#last time i was in the presence of the object i literally had to be held down by 5 burly men

[myrtaceaae]

People's reactions to significant phobias is so stupid "you just need to be a little bit brave" "don't you know that it isn't rational" "you can hold my hand" "don't make a fuss of yourself"

Babe. Do you even know what a phobia is , or are you just applying your distaste for spiders onto me, who has to be sedated when the object of my phobia is being forced on me

[anisespice]

“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.

parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.

notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol 

notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)

tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen

“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”

When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.

Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.

You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”

One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”

“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”

You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.

“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.

You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”

He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”

“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”

Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.

Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.

“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”

The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.

Well, consider the waters tested.

“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”

Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.

“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.

He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…

However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.

Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.

“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”

Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”

You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”

“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.

“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”

Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”

“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.

With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.

Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.

The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:

“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”

It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.

Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.

When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.

It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.

“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”

“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”

Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”

You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”

“Welcome, gorgeous.”

The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.

“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”

Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”

You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”

Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.

Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.

“Next time, pretty baby.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.

Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”

He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”

“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.

That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.

“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.

“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”

“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”

Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”

You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”

“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”

“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”

You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”

Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”

“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.

“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”

“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”

He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”

You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”

“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.

Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.

And he knew how much you hated doing that.

“Ten minutes.”

He sighed. “[_____]…”

“Five minutes?”

“We can’t-“

“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.

Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.

“Better me than Kaku.”

“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”

Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…

Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.

“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.

You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”

“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”

“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”

“Now, hold on—”

Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.

You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”

However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.

“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”

Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.

“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”

“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.

“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”

Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.

Remorse.

Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…

And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.

With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”

“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”

“-and I don’t care. I just…”

Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.

Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.

Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[mentally-gone002]

surprise coffee kisses

(collage made by moi)

summary: literally the title ^^^

————————————————————————

paper bag in one hand, a coffee cup in the other and a visitor badge clipped onto my shirt accompanied me up to the floor in which spencer worked on in the FBI’s headquarters in quantico. 

i’d been in the building lots of times which meant finding my way around was no problem at this point whenever i’d visit. 

on this occasion my appearance was secret. spencer had left his badge at our apartment on his nightstand and by the unseen bowl in my sink i had a feeling he hadn’t had breakfast before he left, so i’d taken the liberty of running by his favorite cafe on my way to him. 

once i had stepped out of the elevator and strode through the large glass doors with the FBI symbol and the printed title of the unit “behavioral analysis unit” on them, i made a beeline directly to his desk where he was seated. his back was arched over and he seemed to be writing. 

i smiled, slowing my strides as i got closer until i stopped. the paper bag holding his breakfast and his coffee cup was placed quietly on his desk prior to my gentle arms wrapping around the front of his shoulders from behind his desk chair. “hey, handsome.” i kept my voice low so as to not startle him. my lips quickly stamped a kiss to his cheek. 

spencer leaned his head back until it met my shoulder. his brown eyes fell over what of my face he could memorize for the millionth time. “hey, what’re you doing here?” he was gentle with asking and didn’t mean it in a rude way, he was just curious of my sudden presence in his place of work. it made him instantly forget about what he was doing.

i hummed. “you forgot your badge at home, and i brought you breakfast.” my eyes flicked to the items i’d brought for him so that he knew where they were. “and i didn’t get to see you before you left.”

he smiled lovingly as i told him about my reason for being there. he never had to worry about the feelings i felt for him because i expressed them every chance that i got. “thank you, so much.” he beamed up at me as i unwound her arms from around his shoulders. he almost frowned at the absence of my touch but he hid his disappointment. he knew his coworkers would teas him later after i’d left. 

“you’re welcome.” i leaned against spencer’s desk facing him. “what’re you working on?” my hands reached blindly into my sweater pocket to retrieve spencer’s badge as i stared down at the open file on his desk. 

he shrugged. “just some paperwork i didn’t finish last night.” he wheeled his chair to the side and stopped in front of me. “what’re you gonna do today?” 

i sighed, looking up at the ceiling as i thought. “probably run a few errands. we need a few things food wise, and then i might clean the apartment.” i answered him with a soft smile. “when do you think you’ll be home?” 

spencer looked at his watch and then at a stack of files in a paper basket at the end of his desk. “maybe… five thirty. i’ll see if i can leave earlier though, if you need any help cooking.”

i smiled at his consideration but shook my head. “i’m gonna have it all done by the time you get home, if that’s okay. i’m trying something new and don’t want you to have to see me angry if i end up ruining it.” 

“oh you mean like the time you tried to make crepes at one in the morning?” he laughed quietly while i sighed with closed eyes. “you woke me up because you started cussing at inanimate objects.”

i laughed at the remembrance even though i wanted to stay serious. “you scared the hell out of me when you walked into the room to try and calm me down.” 

spencer nodded, leaning forwards in his chair and slid his hand up onto my knee. “they turned out pretty good though.” 

i nodded as i also leaned forward. our faces were inches apart. “they did, didn’t they?” 

we silently stared at each other, eyes just wandering over one another’s faces while the buzz of the bullpen filled the space of our ended conversation. spencer looked at my lips a few times so i decided to lean in and kiss him once, since i didn’t get the chance to this morning. 

as i was pulling away i whispered, “i should get going so you can work.” 

he frowned immediately but nodded. “okay.” he kissed me again before wheeling his chair back to where it was before i had gotten there. “thank you again.” 

i nodded, squeezing my hand over his shoulder. “of course.” my lips were continuously pinned in a smile when i was with him. “i’ll see you at home, okay?”

spencer nodded. “okay. i love you.” 

“i love you.” i smiled, waving as i walked backwards towards the glass doors. 

“you’re in love with that girl.” morgan said across the bullpen to spencer, earning a few nods of approval from their coworkers to which spencer replied with just a roll of his eyes as he went back to work.

morgan was right, as much as he hated to admit, he was right.

spencer was undeniably in love with me.

[yuikomorii]

I got a question but I need an objective answer please. So I saw a lot of people complain about Yui being written in a very bad way in Ayato’s routes starting with More Blood and was curious if you think that she became a bad girlfriend as the story progressed?

// I will analyze Yui’s versions from Ayato’s routes and provide an answer at the end of this post.

More Blood:

Even from the first two chapters we are aware of the fact that Yui got a big crush on Ayato merely because of his looks and pleasure he gave her. At first sight, these reasons seem very superficial, but at the same time you can’t blame her completely for that. Yui went to a normal school and used to read magazines for teens, therefore it’s obvious she would have hormones and fall in love with someone who got features portrayed as the beauty standard.

It's understandable why some found her annoying, as she repeatedly cried for Ayato's love without making any real effort to earn it. Apart from giving him her blood, she didn't try to understand what he was going through, even when she noticed changes in him that made him crave so much blood.

Nevertheless, I believe that she did redeem herself in the last chapters, where she admitted being selfish and only thinking about her own desires, instead of focusing on Ayato’s struggles too. I know she paralyzed him out of jealousy and cheated on him in the bad endings, but in the good one, she’s actually a really loyal person. Yui waited years for Ayato to wake up from the coma and Ayato searched for Yui for years in his dream until he finally woke up. This ending confirmed the genuineness of their love.

In the After Story, Ayato planned to attend university for Yui's sake, aiming to get a job and buy a house. Yui helped Ayato with his studies and praised his skills. Initially, she fell for his looks, but in the After Story, she mentioned falling in love with him again because of his caring, determined, and hardworking personality.

Vandead Carnival & Lunatic Parade:

I really liked Yui in both of Ayato's routes and honestly, I can't find anything to criticize about her behavior.

It's not that Yui was a bad partner; it's just that Ayato was portrayed as too good, such as when he ran through flames for her or protected her from a bomb explosion. But that's likely because these are fan service games, where the love interests are designed to be your knights in shining armor. xD

Dark Fate:

I absolutely loved Yui’s portrayal in that route. It was the sweetest version of Yui I’ve ever seen, and I really enjoyed seeing her so happy and soft. Regarding her relationship with Ayato, he was truly the apple of her eye, lol.

The only problematic thing she did was pushing Ayato to face his abuser, Cordelia, even though he didn’t want to. I honestly don’t care if a character does something to another character, as long as it doesn’t affect them and the story, so since Ayato didn’t get mad at her for that, I didn’t mind it much either. However, from an objective point of view, I agree that doing such a thing is quite bad. Being in the presence of someone who ruined your life can trigger intense memories and forcing a confrontation removes the victim's agency in deciding how to cope with their trauma. Ayato might not have been mad at Yui for planning that, but if it had been Laito, I’m sure he would have shown why Yui was in the wrong.

Other than that, she was a kind and supportive girlfriend throughout the whole route, clearly having no ill intent, and I appreciate that she had an actual important role in the route.

Lost Eden:

Ok, I really can’t defend her anymore there. She literally had no redeeming qualities, no matter how many times she got the chance to fix herself. I discussed my thoughts about LE Yui in this post, but I’ll sum it up.

She tried to convince Ayato that despite Cordelia abusing him, she actually did it because she “cared about his future”, and then acted surprised when Ayato started feeling uncomfortable because of her words.

Yui knew the reasons behind Ayato’s behavior, yet when his brothers started mocking him, she didn’t even try to defend him. Everyone ganged up on Ayato, and he was on the verge of a panic attack, yet she remained silent.

Another terrible scene was in one of the last chapters, when Ruki admitted to turning the Vibora Clan and Church organization against Ayato out of envy, aiming to kill him. Instead of criticizing Ruki’s actions, Yui justified them and spoke ill of Ayato behind his back. I wouldn’t like to date someone who claims to love me but keeps hurting me without learning anything… It felt as if Ayato only continued being together with her because he had no one else. No wonder he didn’t marry her there.

Chaos Lineage:

I found Yui quite boring in CL in general, but she started off as determined and sweet in his route, so I liked that.

For most of the route, Yui’s entire personality seemed to revolve around Ayato, and she didn’t do much. There were many cheesy moments between them that made me cringe. Still, I’m sure a certain audience enjoyed those.

My only complaint is that when his brothers started treating Ayato unfairly, despite the fact that he came up with the idea of breaking the glass floor of the church, Yui did nothing to defend him, again.

However, I do appreciate that she gave him that adorable monologue. I just wish she had done it in front of others instead of only acting when Ayato was already insecure and sad.

Now… let’s see what kind of girlfriend Yui was in each route by judging her progress:

MB: Good

VC: Good

DF: Very good

LP: Good

LE: Very bad

CL: Decent

[youryurigoddess]

The summer that was never supposed to end

You’ve probably noticed how in Good Omens 2 Crowley’s eyes are brighter, more saturated, as if glistening with liquid gold. We’ve already covered his hair. And it’s not only the visual aspect of him — even in objectively stressful conditions, Crowley appears mature and put together, way cooler and more protective than before. Even his faults are heavily romanticized in the past and present scenes, reminding of the S1 body swap, when Aziraphale projected his love to him on the way he played the demon in Hell.

It’s not just the demon. The whole season is more vibrant, bolder, filled with sunshine. Just like a summer that was never supposed to end. Like a memory of a loved one seen through the eyes of someone who thinks of them every day until the end of the world.

S2 seems ridiculously saturated, whimsical, and full of red and gold, just like a certain demon. Aziraphale not only painted his bookshop in his image, but literally colored the whole world in Crowley’s colors. It was such lush and saturated and blooming with warmth and hazy light.

It’s either that all the newest events are just another memory seen through a certain angel’s eyes, or said angel actively made it appear this way — as in, his feelings grew so strong that they’ve started to warp the reality around him. And it’s a well-known fact that Aziraphale has a tendency to affect his surroundings, either unconsciously, when his presence in the bookshop literally lightens up the sky seen through its windows, or very much consciously, when he takes over the position of a master puppeteer and manipulates people with or without the help of his miracles.

S1 was more dramatic and apocalyptic, but not particularly gray — at least not as much as the color grading typically used in portrayal of similar apocalyptic narratives. S2, at least as seen through Aziraphale’s own La Vie En Rose lens, is vibrant and saturated. And those colors drastically fade in the heavenly light of the elevator during the credits, suggesting that they won’t be as visible in the course of S3.

But I don’t want to ramble about the apocalypse sandwich and the three-act structure here, so let’s circle back to S2.

Good Omens 2 was really set in a summer that was never supposed to end. But it did, autumn crept in, and there was no chance of hearing the nightingales sing. They all had left by the time an angel and a demon finally kissed.

In the most literal sense: the very last nightingales usually migrate from the UK to their wintering grounds in Sub-Saharan Africa in the first days of September.

Aziraphale was right that nothing lasts forever — and the passage of time on Earth is marked by subtle details invisible to the immortal eyes.

The main thing about autumn migration is how sudden and hard to predict it is. The birds start disappearing gradually, often without notice, until at some point they are no longer here. Much like the angel leaves the bookshop — their shared nest — to spread his wings and fight.

And it was basically announced on the poster.

Can you see the migratory formation of birds up in the sky? It looks like Aziraphale is the last one to get off the ground and fly.

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”

You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.

That opportunity had long passed.

You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.

…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.

Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.

“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.

You’d shrugged.

“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.

Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.

“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else…  If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”

That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.

It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.

Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.

You didn’t know how to feel about that either.

On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.

What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.

Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…

…and there were many times you worried that would be you.

As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.

“Hello, Peter.”

The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.

“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”

“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”

She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.

Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.

Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.

It was your birthday?

You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.

The thought made you…sad.

This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.

Now…

Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”

You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.

“I shouldn’t be here…”

Realization hit Peter as he sighed.

“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”

“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.

“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”

Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.

“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”

You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.

“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.

You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.

Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.

You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.

Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

You blinked, frowning a bit.

“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”

You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.

“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”

You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.

You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.

“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”

You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.

It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.

When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.

“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”

He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”

He rested his chin on the back of your hand.

“Just like I am every time I look at you…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.

“You understand…?”

You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.

“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”

Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.

The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.

You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.

You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.

Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.

…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.

The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.

You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.

“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”

“Sit down, Peggy.”

Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.

When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.

“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”

You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.

“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”

“Steve-.”

“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”

You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.

“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”

Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.

“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”

More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.

“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”

“Steve,” Margaret murmured.

“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”

With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.

“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”

You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.

“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”

The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.

“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”

Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.

The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.

Nothing about any of this was good.

You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.

“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”

Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.

“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”

“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”

You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.

“I want my mom,” you cried.

The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.

“You don’t want to be mine…?” he slowly asked.

You pressed your lips together, looking away.

“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”

Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.

“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”

“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.

“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”

“Peter-.”

“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”

He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.

“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”

He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.

“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”

You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.

“…maybe it still can be…”

You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.

“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.

“Peter-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.

“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.

He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.

“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.

His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.

“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”

You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.

He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.

“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

[retirementhomewriting]

Fraudulent Flowers

Features: In which the author decides that Valentine's Day is today

Fem!Reader, poor attempt at dialogue, can you tell I haven't written anything in a long time it's been literal years

"Neuvillette?!"

You felt your eyebrows raise and your heart leap all in one second.

In your hand you held an exquisite bouquet of red roses, having been delivered to you just a few moments ago on this morning of Valentine's Day.

You hadn't expected the breathtaking delivery. You weren't seeing anybody.

But what you expected least of all was that when you read the card that came with the flowers, the sender's name was written as Neuvillette—in other words—the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and although you hadn't admitted this to anyone yet, the man you loved dearly.

Never in a million years did you believe you would receive such a gift from him. Still staring at the bouquet in shock, you tried to make sense of the situation.

Neuvillette had sent you flowers. Roses, in particular. Red ones. On Valentine's Day.

This gift could only mean the sender had feelings for you. Neuvillette must have feelings for you.

For a moment, you felt that familiar flutter in your heart, only for it to be stopped by your mind.

Had it been anyone else, you wouldn't have questioned their intentions. But Neuvillette? How would he have known to send such a present? Could there have been a misunderstanding on his part of the flowers' meaning?

No, you thought. Although not a human himself, Neuvillette had lived amongst humans for centuries. Surely at some point, he must have observed the habit humans had of gifting flowers to the object of their affections on Valentine's Day.

...

Oh my.

You felt the corners of your mouth pulling into a smile. You had to see him right away. Quickly reaching for the first vase you could find, you arranged the flowers neatly, sending their beautiful blooms one last glance over your shoulder as you hurried out the door.

"Lady (Y/n)! Good morning!"

Your feet gradually came to a stop as you walked through the halls of the Palais Mermonia, a group of Melusines calling your name when you came into view.

Chuckling affectionately, you gave each of them a smile.

"Hello dears. Would Monsieur Neuvillette happen to be in his office right now?" You asked, your heart beating in anticipation.

The Melusines glanced at each other and quickly nodded.

"Monsieur Neuvillette would be happy to see you!"

"Thank you," you told them. "I'll be seeing him now."

With a mixture of anticipation and giddiness rising in your chest, you lifted your arm to knock on the doors of Neuvillette's office, not even noticing the giggles of the Melusines as they trotted happily away.

Knock knock.

"Enter."

The mere sound of Neuvillette's voice was enough to cause your heart to jump. In just a few moments, your relationship with him could change.

"Good morning, Monsieur Neuvillette," you greeted the Iudex warmly as you walked into his office, shutting the door softly behind you.

The sight of Neuvillette poring over paperwork cut as regal a figure as always, you vaguely noted.

"Good morning, Lady (Y/n)," Neuvillette responded, his gorgeous eyes flitting up to meet yours. "I was not expecting your presence today. Not that your presence is unwelcome," he added, the faintest of smiles ghosting his lips.

His words cycled through your brain as you took a seat in front of him. He wasn't expecting your presence today?

"Well," you began carefully, "I believe these types of matters are best not delayed." You inhaled quietly, facing these next important words. "I received your flowers. I must say, I was touched. They were beautiful. And... I really appreciated that you would send them to me."

You smiled, albeit a bit bashfully, at Neuvillette.

Neuvillette, for as much as he wanted to bask in that beautiful smile of yours that threatened to purge all other concerns from his mind, could not combat his confusion.

"I'm afraid I do not understand," he said. "I do not recall sending you any flowers, and yet you say you have received them from me?"

"... I'm sorry?"

Neuvillette... didn't send you any flowers? The information hit you like a bucket of ice water, the bashful smile on your face rapidly turning into a frown of mortification.

"I... well..." you stumbled miserably around your words as you tried to make sense of the situation while also fighting the confusion and shame that tore at your dignity. "I received a bouquet of roses this morning that were supposedly sent as a Valentine's gift...from...you...."

Your final word slipped out weakly from your lips.

You couldn't believe what was happening. That bouquet you got wasn't from Neuvillette. But then who would play such a cruel trick on you?

Oh you felt like such a fool, having gotten your hopes up when Neuvillette wasn't even thinking of you.

Suddenly straightening in your chair, you forced yourself to make eye contact with the Iudex.

"I'm sorry," you choked the words from your throat.

Neuvillette only looked at you in confusion.

"I do not believe you have anything to apologize for. It was not you who falsely sent those flowers in my name, after all."

"I know," you muttered, "but I apologize for charging into the matter so blindly and being so quick to believe in a lie. I in no way wanted to make you uncomfortable by misreading the situation. Please," you swallowed bitterly, "disregard my intentions in coming here to see you today."

Your intentions? Your statement gave Neuvillette pause.

If he stopped to think about the situation clearly, what were your intentions in visiting him?

You believed you had received flowers from him, specifically Valentine's Day flowers. Neuvillette had personally never celebrated Valentine's Day himself, but he knew at least the basic significance of the holiday for most Fontainians.

It was a day to celebrate love.

You thought he had sent you a gift... to celebrate his love for you?

And you had accepted that gift.

Had you perhaps come here to... reciprocate his love?

At the thought of that possibility, Neuvillette felt a warmth bloom across his chest, a warmth that seemed to awaken often in him these days.

He quietly breathed in and out, trying to regain his composure and quell the urgent tremble he knew would break his voice if he spoke too soon.

"Lady (Y/n)."

At the sound of your name, you reluctantly looked up.

"If it would not incommodate you, I would prefer not to overlook your intentions in coming to visit me today." Neuvillette gazed into your eyes steadily. "In fact, would you be willing to tell me your favorite species of flower?"

"My favorite flower...?"

"If you would allow me," Neuvillette continued, the tips of his ears turning the lightest shade of pink, "it would be my honor to truly gift you a Valentine's bouquet. I may not have the most experience in these sorts of human customs, but... I would be willing to learn more about them if it pleases you."

Two beats later and you were staring at Neuvillette as if on today of all todays your ears chose to fail you.

Two beats more and Neuvillette was graced with what surely must have been the most precious gift of all: your smiling face, which could evaporate the rain from the sky itself.

You were right.

Your relationship with Neuvillette was about to change.

And as the Melusines listening from the hall giggled triumphantly to each other and took note of what your favorite flower really was, the love you shared with the Chief Justice allowed itself to grow.

[genshinology]

(UN)PROFESSIONAL APPROACH. alhaitham

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing; alhaitham x gn!reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ genre; enemies to lovers au (idiots to lovers but they really don't want to admit how whipped they are to e/o), slightly platonic relationship but make it flirty and hot.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count; 1.9k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary; when alhaitham offered you a temporary job that just might require you to be by his side all the time, and you objected him without a second thought.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ content; sumeru archon quest spoilers!! this is written before his story quest just to satiate my self-indulgence so some things are not really in line with him in-game, profanities (when i say enemies, i really mean it), it is mentioned that reader is smaller than him, maybe alhaitham is ooc in this, sexual tension (slight suggestive ig but NOT nsfw), kissing, basically he puts reader in their place *wink wonk*

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes; his title of “acting grand sage” makes me feral for real.

"the acting grand sage is asking for your presence in his office," one of the scholars, or to be exact, alhaitham's personal and unofficial right-hand man firmly bowed to you slightly, his hand on his chest as of to give respect to you.

that kind gesture, however, weirded you out. the fact that you were no more than an ordinary adventurer casually strolling around akademiya's house of daena to find one of the books the matra asked you to find, and the fact that alhaitham knew you were here made you felt somehow unpleasant. what did the man want? why did he often interrupting the little peace you had?

it wasn't a great topic for gossip when almost everyone knew how horrible your term was with the akademiya's scribe. in fact, it was an infamous one. how you bickered with him most of the times, except that one time when he was serious enough to ask for your help during sumeru's worst case of scenario; helping lesser lord kusanali from the evil deed of former grand sage.

you couldn't remember the countless times others tried to stop you from strangling alhaitham back in the days. his words always found their ways to irk you, so much to the point that you dropped your mannerism to one of the respectable figures in sumeru, just to prove your point that you hated him as mush as he did.

the fact that alhaitham was offered to become the grand sage in the first place made you almost laughed dryly. sure, he had the brightest mind, but not the brightest attitude. especially not towards you.

someone liked him, heartless to his core, not even toning down his ignorance towards you, shouldn't even be the one that hold the highest position within akademiya itself.

maybe you were too harsh, but alhaitham was never kind to you since day one.

"what is it this time?" you sighed, the book in your hand was placed abruptly back in its place. you'd already made a mental note of where was the last place you searched to find that ancient book.

"please, sir alhaitham said it is a urgent matter," the scholar bowed again, and you almost huffed annoyingly. even this poor scholar was a hard-headed man just like his upper hand.

you didn't want to spend any more time with alhaitham, especially when you were running low on time for this one commission. the thought of discussing certain things with the scribe for more than 15 minutes already made you nauseous.

so, you did what you know was the best. to quickly meet him, and then moved on.

because that was how things had always been.

"you.." your voice was trailing off, and you seemed to not find your balance despite you first barged in to his office without a cue, and shamelessly sat down on his desk that was littered with papers—much to how you wanted to show him how rude you could've been to him. "you're seriously out of your mind," you shrieked, hopping down quite aggressively from his desk as he could only leaned back on his chair and arms spreading across his chest, watching tentatively at how you were literally throwing a tantrum in his office.

"if i am out of my mind, then so be it," alhaitham's voice was booming with seriousness—fuck, you thought. he didn't lie when he said that he wanted you to become his assistant for a while.

despite how messy his desk had became from your frustrations more than 15 minutes ago, he didn't do anything to stop you.

fuck him.

"i am seriously going to leave you hanging if you still insist on me taking up your proposal and shove down my throat like you want to," you almost ripped a paper apart, until you realised how doomed you would be if you accidentally messed up his work.

"have you ever think that this may be a good chance? if you want to leave, then i am not against it," alhaitham's calm yet scary voice sounded way too hoarse. and you immediately knew, your action was slowly getting on his nerves.

"i don't even know why you chose me," your eyebrow lifted, as if trying to mock him. the audacity of this man was way too much, he even had the courage to ask you to work for him? hell, no. "i am an adventurer, sir," you almost scoffed at the title people insisted you to address him. "if you could find me a position as a matra, then i am totally okay with it."

obviously you didn't want your skills to be of no use.

"i don't even know how, or why you are even capable of this position. and now you want me by your side almost all the time? i truly apologise, and i am kindly rejecting it," you rolled your eyes instinctively, and you just could see how your words made him shuffling from his intimidating position on his chair to him standing up to show how superior he was from you.

he was fucking looking down at you, as if his eyes were mocking you back. "you hate me this much?"

sure, the tension was unparallel when he boldly moved closer to you. and sure, you might be quite scared to see him up this close since he never really acted verbally on how annoyed he was at you. always used his words instead of actions. and you were truthfully slightly alarmed at the situation.

despite how dizzy you felt at the smell of him, you snickered. "yes, and what about it?"

your bravery was something alhaitham adored. cute, he thought. it was honestly disgusting how he found you cute when you already knew how different your physique was when compared to him.

"i have told you," he was way too close, oh no. your mind went overdrive, and you thought you might have pushed his buttons a little bit too far. "you can walk out of this office if you want to," he said sternly, almost trapping you from a distance only god knows how weak you suddenly felt against his desk and the overwhelming presence of him.

"but your pretty brain decided to be foolish, or being deliberately obtuse, in my own office and messing up my paperwork," he was at the breaking point. the way you eyed up his lips made him felt the sudden urge to shut your mouth up for running wild against him.

"and now you're questioning my capabilities?" he chuckled darkly, seeing how defeated you were behind those eyes, for the first time in his entire life, he would just admit out loud that he found you more interesting as a person rather than all things he had been documenting thus far.

"as much as i despised you for dragging my years of hard work along that sharp tongue of yours," his hand was suspiciously inching closer to the back of your head, and your body shivered at the subtle contact. "you really are endearing when being lost just like this."

you were trembling, a lot more than you were used to. something about him successfully trapped you in between his big arms, with his desk behind you, and the way you unknowingly puckered your lips in annoyance—or did you really do this on purpose? to irk him this much? he would never know—made everything in him to not actually did what his mind wanted him to. to finally show you how oblivious you were at the sheer amount of attention he had given to someone else besides his work for the past months. how oblivious you were at him and his feeling.

it was just like that since forever. how true feelings were unspoken of towards one another in this whatever push-pull relationship he had with you.

yes, he was a practical man with thousands of logics that didn't give a single care towards anybody else, but god, you were so fucking cute when you tried to act brave in front of him. when he knew you were attracted to him, much like him towards you.

it was a lot to maintain eye contact and continued with this facade. not when he was getting closer and closer, not when you could feel his warm breath hitting repeatedly against your nose and lips, not when you could feel how hot your surrounding atmosphere was, and totally not when you felt so bothered by the fact that one tiny move from you and you could feel his lips on yours.

"kiss me, sir. do it," it was a miracle, honestly, how you could still muster up some courage and dignity left in you to challenge him to not succumb into the thick air of tensions. his eyes told million stories behind them, and alhaitham's one side of his mouth could only curve upwards.

fucking cute, he thought. how you were so sure of yourself that this was a challenge for him, when in fact, he didn't mind losing if this was really the opportunity for him to finally stop your mouth from hurting his ego.

his hand now was undoubtedly gripped your nape tighter, and it was a sickeningly sweet gesture of him to massage your nape momentarily, as if to tell you that he would do it and you should relax for him.

everything about this man was driving you insane. you felt the way he caved in to the temptation as the heat radiating off of his body and into yours.

he stopped in his track, teasing you slightly by brushing his perfect and beautiful lips—you might be already smitten all over him if you really thought of him that way—against your parted lips. his breath hitched when he could also feel the way your ragged breath practically telling him that you wanted more than just a mere teasing.

he was the winner, after all, wasn't he?

"i know you want to shut me up. i dare you," you whispered against his annoyingly attractive face, feeling as if you would collapse if he continued on holding you like this in such a suffocating position. "kiss me."

"gladly."

his lips were on yours the moment you wanted to come back with a snarky remark. your breath was knocked out of your body from the intensity. the way alhaitham's official name plate on the desk was knocked over by you and onto the floor made him smiled against your lips as your eyes fluttered.

he really had you smitten, there was no doubt of it.

the metallic sound came from the clashing with the floor made you flinched slightly against his hold, and alhaitham took it as a signal to pull you by the waist, other hand purchased its way to push you deeper into him. for him to feel you more, for you to know how desperate you were despite those constant bickerings you threw at him just to get his attention, and they were effective for god's sake. because now alhaitham couldn't deny how relieved he felt that he could finally get you where he wanted.

maybe you really should have accept his proposal in the first place. it was definitely his fault for making you felt butterflies in your stomach right at this moment.

all rights reserved © genshinology 2023 strictly on tumblr only. any form of wrongdoings under the copyright law is strictly prohibited.

[interlunium-opus]

► TEMPESTUOUS DESIRES [Jake.]

Abstract: For a messenger of love who effortlessly intertwines hearts, Jake himself remains untouched by the desires he kindles. This wasn’t a problem until he met you. Being disinterested in love and somehow always able to evade his shots, you soon became the object of his fixation but those very pure intentions to find you a good match soon gave way to obsession and temptations. As his golden arrows can’t be used to bewitch you to him, he ended up delving further into darkness where the lines between love and obsessions becomes blurred, corrupted by the insatiable need to own and possess you for himself. As he spirals down this treacherous path, he becomes entangled in a web of deception and manipulation, forsaking his once noble purpose.

Genre: fantasy | forbidden romance | supernatural | mythology | wc: 13k

a/n: inspired by New Jeans “Cool With You”. This has been marinating in the drafts for who-knows-how-long now. My brain can't shut up so here it is finally. Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. Do leave me some feedbacks or comments, it keeps me from sliding back to hiatus and descend down the writer's block hellhole lol.

© 2024 interlunium-opus. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarize, post or translate anywhere.

— i.

Figuratively and literally, Jake leaves trail of attraction and desire in his wake. As a messenger of love with unparalleled mental acuity and formidable archery skills, every arrow he draws from his quiver meet its target with unerring accuracy, ensnaring the unsuspecting victim with someone who is best matched, trapping them in a web of attraction and desires that would last the test of time. But it is not just his archery that captivates; Jake's ethereal presence, striking good looks, and flirtatious nature are a force of nature in their own right — captivating both humans and non-humans, leaving trails of attractions, desires and temptations in his wake.

He would have made the perfect Messenger of Love — one who is poised to go down in history. After all, the prevailing modern mindset which glorifies individualism and instant gratification has put lasting love in the backseat, making the job harder for the other Messengers of Love who could only strike attraction and lusts that lasts for one night. Hence, with every union that Jake successfully brought, he had become somewhat of a legend — someone with an innate, perhaps unlearnable, understanding of what makes love lasts.

Except, the truth is not as rosy. 

While beings like him are capable of feeling the emotions and desires that humans feel, Jake himself remains untouched by the all-consuming desires he sparks in others. His mental acuity helped him understood the mechanics of love — an intricate dance of personalities and the delicate balance of emotions — but the feeling itself eludes him. While he used to see it as a flaw when he was young, he now understood that it was this very detachment that grants him an edge in the field. Unburdened by personal biases or the clouding of intense emotions, Jake is able to navigate around with a clear and calculated mindset that allows him to dissect the intricacies of human nature, identifying the traits and compatibilities that foster enduring connections. 

Such mental acumen however, while providing him with a detached understanding, fails to bridge the gap between intellectual knowledge and the visceral experience of love’s consuming fire. In fact, despite all the flirtatious banter, sweet nothings and passionate touches he is capable of engaging and eliciting — his feelings remain only surface deep, that of attraction and lust which dissipates as soon as his conquests are bedded.

Perhaps it is exactly this lack of attachment that fuels his libertine tendencies — one that has been increasingly trangressed boundaries as he sought to not just bed his own kind but also humans, despite such liaisons being frowned upon. Perhaps the excitement and thrill of forbidden liasons is what he revelled in or perhaps, without him realising, he was seeking to fill in the void within himself which grows with each connection he forged.

Regardless. Tonight, was one of those days.

Assuming his human form — which is similar to his usual form except for the lip ring, gigantic wings and laurel wreath — he crashed into an after-party of a prestigious award ceremony, eyes immediately set on the apple of everyone’s eyes: the current IT girl of the industry whose looks could rival those from his realm. She was like a vision of ethereal beauty. Her doe-like eyes were large and expressive, capable of softening the hardest of hearts; her lips was full and luscious — both innocent and tantalizing — inviting unspoken desires; her slender frame, with its graceful lines and subtle curves, captured the essence of feminity, evoking not just attraction but a sense of protectiveness.

Jake smirked as his mind parsed her life history and pieced out the kind of person she was, finding his competitiveness instantly triggered the moment he learned of her iron-clad discipline and control when it comes to romance. As a young woman in a competitive industry that is still plagued with double standards against women, she knew her success stands at a precipice so despite all the love interests showered towards her over the years – she managed to stave them off, no matter how tempting. She had it all under control and she was poised for greater things given her diligence and discipline. 

But then she met Jake’s eyes and for the first time in her life, she felt her guards threatening to crack especially at the weight of Jake’s unflinching and seductive gaze throughout the night. Jake didn’t even need his poisoned arrows for he, himself, was almost like the poison that is laced over his arrow tips — the very object of desire for almost anyone he decides to charm. 

The next thing you knew, they were already locking lips in the hallway, the act of which quickly escalated as they moved to the van, hands absolutely glued to one another, roaming freely and wildly, before it all culminated in throes of passion that lasted for hours on her bed — a place she vowed never to bring a man over. Like the torn designers over the floor, all traces of controlled perfection she had masterfully maintained over the years crumbled under the weight of Jake’s intoxicating touch and seductive sweet-nothings. She was absolutely moonstruck and Jake did not even need his arrows for it.  

“You’re going to have to call in sick tomorrow if this goes on-” Jake mumbled in between the soft kisses that he trails down her neck as she whimpered his name again and again, delirious in pleasure while begging him not to ever let go, promising him absolutely everything — from her money to her career.

“Look at the industry sweetheart,” Jake cooed, eyes adoring what he had made out of her: a whimpering and clingy mess that is completely seized in desires and lust, “what would they say if they see you like this?”

She shook her head, breathing ragged from the umpteenth high she had raked with Jake, before pulling him into a hungry and messy kiss. “Love,” Jake mumbled in between kisses, saliva stretching between their lips, “you’re tired. It’s time to go to sleep.”

“You’re not going to leave me right?” she stared at him all bleary-eyed. Jake simply smiled, rubbing her cheeks softly as she tried hard to keep her lids open against the enchantments that Jake had justwhispered into her system, “this is all just a dream.”

And just like that, he would become a mere figment of a dream for her — just like all the other human he had bedded before. Sure, it was hypocritical of him to play around with them like that but he always reassured himself sickeningly that he wasn’t doing any harm by doing so. If anything he just gave yet another human a good time — a time they would never find in the touch of any other human. He also induced partial amnesia in them so that they would not go insane from longing for him. It’s a win-win, Jake thought to himself, smirking, as he pulled his suit over, fixing the placement of his lip ring with a flick of his tongue.

As he climbed out of the window ledge however, he heard the familiar sound of wings fluttering.

“Sooner or later, they’re going to catch on Jake.” Jake knew who it was immediately.

“Stalking me isn’t going to rake you scores Sunoo,” Jake scoffed as he turned around, meeting the eyes of the pale messenger who used to be his deskmate during his training days, “you’d be better off striking hearts instead. Your scores last quarter is dangerously low – you know you’d get demoted if you keep at it right?”

Sunoo swallowed thickly, “I can’t help it, love doesn’t last that long anymore these days. I can’t strike their hearts to one another knowing that it will only end in heartbreak.”

“That is exactly your flaw. You care far too much,” Jake sighed, “Come on, our threshold for successful matches is only in love that lasts for 5 years. Just keep that as a goal — ignore what happens within and beyond and you’re on your way to glory.”

“Not all relationship that lasts 5 years is love,” Sunoo’s voice hardened, eyes quivering as if trying to not believe the words that came out of Jake.

“Does it matter?” Jake shrugged, “love takes various forms. Innocent, tempestuous, scandalous, obsessive, toxic. Whatever happens, heartbreaks are part and parcel of life isn’t it? If it’s too much, we can always mend their heart by latching them onto another which then counts into our tallies and-“

“They’re not mere scores Jake. Hearts can break irreparably,” Sunoo interjected, brows twitching in what looked like a mixture of disbelief and disappointment, “you’ve changed.”

“As if you haven’t,” Jake winked as he slipped off the windowsill, his large wings fluttering open, keeping him afloat, “I know you’ve ventured down the Abyss to procure certain spells to alter your scores every quarter Sunoo,” Jake smirked, feeling triumphant at the hint of guilt evident on Sunoo’s gaze, “you’re not anymore moral nor ethical as I am. It's okay, we all got our vices. Just keep out of my affairs Sunoo and we’re cool.”

And just like that he disappeared, feeling re-energised from his night-long endeavour. In fact, he raked more scores than normal that day — the success of which was also aided by the fact that it was the first sunny day after weeks of torrential rain, bringing more people out and about, all in their Sunday best and in the brightest of moods, making it easier for his poisoned arrows to work its magic.

That was probably why you stuck out like a sore thumb to him when he was lingering at the traffic intersection for in the midst of people in bright and colourful get-up, with a delightful expression to match, you were decked in monochrome, with expressions so somber and eyes on your phone screen. When you finally looked up, your face contorted into a grimace, absolutely disgusted by the couple who was kissing in front of you.

The so-called Love cynics, Jake remembered a lesson back then, someone who is aversed to love. Could be Asexual, could be a product of trauma, could be just hardened by age and cynical outlook. They will be the hardest to bend but the biggest of catches. Jake’s hand was already reaching for another arrow in his quiver, his mind working hard in analysing your personality and trying to match it with dozen of other men within the vicinity — the perfect match of which he found in no time at the PhD student just across with whom you could share your intellectual interests with and with whom your more rational and logical tendencies could live in harmony with.

“Perfect,” Jake thought to himself as he directed his arrow in your direction, the strings taut in his fingers. Just 2 seconds after the light had turned green, Jake let his arrow go. That was an easy kill, Jake smirked triumphantly, confident that his calculations on timing, distance and strength, would have struck you precisely when the other guy would have come into your direct line of sight.

But then you suddenly ducked and all hell breaks loose for not only had Jake missed but his arrow struck the worst of targets: an expecting mother and, just across, a man who was on his way to his own wedding. It was a potential multiple breach of ethics that would have summoned him right to the Court Office.

“Fuck,” Jake cussed, blazing past the throng of crowd, scrambling for a lead-tipped arrow that is meant to reverse his magic, and stabbing it onto the woman just seconds away before she lurched towards the man.

“Can I help you?” the man asked, puzzled, as the lady who had stopped right in front of him with arms outstretched paused, looking dazed, before apologising. Jake exhaled sharply at the close call. Brushing his hair back in annoyance, he looked around, eyes frantically scanning for the you - the troublemaker - though by then you were long gone, swallowed by the bustling crowd.

“That’s a bit annoying,” Jake grumbled, shooting another arrow at someone else whom he quickly found a match for on the other side of the road. That union, he projected, would last at least 9 years but even that couldn’t quell the distaste he felt in his mouth after his near-miss – the distaste of which lasted almost all day despite the successes he raked.

And so that night, he stayed back in the human world during forbidden hours, finding you very easily through his network of friends. While you weren’t his first miss, you somehow continued to linger at the back of his mind, haunting him all day.

Sitting by your windowsill, he observed your every move as if you were a specimen to behold. He watched you get so engrossed in your report; watched you get annoyed by how your regressions didn’t come out the way you expected; watched in amusement at the way you’d accidentally dozed off, only to spring back to typing when you jolted awake.

“What are you so engrossed in?” Jake wondered out load as he floated inside, peeking over your shoulders, “Aww,” he cooed, “look at you, burning the midnight oil to finish up a policy paper to save the poor,” he sat onto the empty space on your table, next to your screen, “but who’s going to save you, you miserable poor loveless thing.”

“I could I guess,” he brought his knees up, hugging it close to his chest, “I do love a challenge,” he mumbled, chin resting on his knee as he watched you with a specific glint in his eyes, “I’ll make your first your last, how’s that?” 

It shouldn’t be hard, he thought, after all, there are 8 billion of people in this world. There are already about a hundred in your apartment building and a couple of hundreds more in your office block, and a couple hundred thousands more between your journeys. The probability is enormous, the possibility is endless, he smirked to himself as he lowered his face towards you, leaning in so as to whisper something in your ear, “you’ll thank me.”

Such optimism and excitement however quickly dissipated in the span of a few days as you somehow magically always evaded his golden arrows in time, causing him to have to use his expensive and hard-acquired lead-tipped arrows to reverse most of the effects. 

“You can’t see me right?” Jake floated in front of you, waving his hand maniacally before inching his face so close towards you as if trying to confirm whether or not you had a built-in radar for him.

As he parsed your history more, it became clearer just how difficult it would be to match you with anyone. Not only was your interest in a getting a partner or dating almost nil but you minimise any opportunities to find one as well: not engaging in social niceties beyond necessary; being oblivious to any interests towards your way; distancing yourself when you detect any hint of interest; and the list goes on. Indeed a ‘Love Cynic’ to the T.

The thing about hardened love cynics is that, while they are the biggest catch, they could also be your biggest downfall if you fail. This is because love cynics, once heartbroken, would feel despair and anguish like none other which just serves to fuel their skepticism and opposition to love afterwards – the result of which would burn holes in the records of any messengers who was in charge of them. Hence, they are always avoided especially by the average messengers.

But then again, Jake was not just your average messenger. He was amongst the best, rivalling some of his predecessors even with some scores made in turning love cynics around. So it was not all surprising just how obsessed he was with getting you a match.

One day, an opportunity came in a silver platter for him as the elevator you guys were in opened to a lad from IT, whose attraction for you was very evident from the way his face lit up, “y/n, it’s a been a while!”

“Well would you look at that,” Jake sung as he pulled an arrow from his quiver, grinning triumphantly. Jake did not even need to parse his mind to see the interest he had for you as it drips from his gaze to his voice. But as he looked back at you, who had shot the other guy the briefest of smile before whipping your phone up to mindlessly scroll your email, Jake’s grin immediately faltered. “You are seriously helpless y/n,” Jake sighed, looking almost as if he was in a trance as he inched closer, pressing the golden-tipped arrow against your back – the puncture of which would have struck your right through your heart, “your attitude needs fixing y/n or else you’ll never find someone—”

Jake was really just 3 seconds away from puncturing you when you recoiled. He initially thought you might have somehow felt the sharpness of his arrow but turned out the guy’s hand was just trailing languidly down your arm.

“Are you still angry about last time?” the man scoffed, the seemingly-warm smile fading almost immediately, “I told you last time, that night was a mistake. I was drunk and I tried to kiss you. That was it. I didnt even managed to do it since-“

“I don’t care about your reasons, you crossed the line,” you replied curtly, “and right now you are one step away from crossing another line. Remember what HR said last time? The next time it happens, they’re just one visit away and you’d immediately be out of the Ministry.”

His lips contorted into a wry grin, the annoyance becoming evident in his voice and face, “you must feel all high and mighty just because you’re in a more superior position than me,” he inched closer, looming ominously, “do you really want to know what true assaults are like-“

Almost too calmly, you hit one of the elevator buttons, its door opening just 3 floors before your destination as you turned your phone towards him, the screen showing a recording in progress, “show your face to me once again and this recording will get sent straight to a public forum. You won’t just be laid off here but this would burn holes in your record making it hard for you to find a new job.”

The man backed away finally, looking every bit flustered, “no wonder you’re still single, you’re a fucking witch-“

“And you’re just one fucking phone call away from being hauled off,” you interjected as you stepped out of the elevator despite it being 3 floor away from your destination. You hear him mutter curses loudly as you walked away. 

Jake was still open-mouthed as he trailed behind you, “that was,” he caught up, hands clapping, “pretty badass. I really thought I needed to step in for a second there but you,” he slipped through the closing door of the emergency staircase which you had just opened, “you were fearless. You were-“ he stopped short as he watched you stood immobile as soon as you entered the emergency stairwell. As if losing the strength in your knees, you leaned weakly against the door, head bowed down.  

Jake watched in confusion as you slid down, your breathing growing rapid, chest heaving, hands trembling as you muttered through gritted teeth, “get it together, y/n. It’s nothing.”

Jake knelt next to you, his mind delving into a specific parcel of memory from the night when you first met the guy earlier — the night when, under the pretense of drunkenness, had tried to corner you into an empty meeting room and tried to kiss you. “Shit,” Jake finally said, brows furrowing in a mixture of concern and guilt. Just moments ago, his competitiveness could have gotten you ensnared with the guy who almost assaulted you — the guy who had caused so much terror in you.

“I’m sorry,” he scooted closer now, feeling guilty. Now Jake may not be a saint nor would he call himself virtuous by any means but he was no devil either. As much as you grinds his gears with your aromantic and callous ways he would never match you with someone like that. 

He sunk beside you, forlorn, his hands ghosting your shoulders. He wanted to apologise but it's not like you could hear him anyway. He wanted to comfort you but his hands would just go through you. He felt oddly powerless. So instead, he stayed next to you in silence, straining his muscles so that his arms just ghost around your shoulders. When you finally calmed down, you leaned back against the door, exhaling sharply. 

Jake watched you intently, his gaze softening. “You know what,” he muttered quietly, “I’ll find you a really good guy — someone who will give you the world. Give you everything.”

For the first time in a while he didn’t see a mere tally to be crossed off the list. Instead he saw a person — a person who deserved the best and most purest form of love he was capable of finding. He rose up, his body curling over your back, leaning down to whisper a promise in your ear, “I give you my word.”

— ii.

Days turned to months and still Jake Sim could not find a match for you. Except this time, the fault lay mostly in him for he could not find anyone good enough for you. They are always lacking or excessive in something and he didn’t want to risk it falling apart. 

Not for you at least. 

And so in between entwining others’ hearts, he would linger around you, following you closely wherever you go, whatever you do. Like a specimen to behold, he watches your every movement and ponder over it up to the point that he remembers your habits and quirks like the back of his hand: how you like your coffee; how salty you like your food to be; the detours you take; your music tastes; the changes in your jogging routes; when you will get cold; when you’d start getting bored of something; and so on.

Eventually, it all fell into a routine. As you settle into your home, he settles with you – as if he belonged there. As you try things out and push boundaries, Jake was also always around, cheering you on – as if his morale support counts. As you considered your choices such as during shopping or working, Jake would share his thoughts and opinions about it to you as well – as if you could even hear him. 

Soon he begun to fill in the silences with you, telling you of his day; the matches he made; the realm he is from; his past and so on – venting on and on, as if you could hear him. 

And whenever you retire to bed at night, he no longer takes it as his cue to return to his realm. Instead he settled right next to you — watching you over like a Guardian Angel.

At least that’s what he deluded himself of until his eyes begun to wander farther each nights, pulling his mind deeper into the recesses of which he never ventured to before with you. It started slow, from eyes wandering, tracing the outlines of your face and body; to gaze lingering at your lips and your exposed skin, heartbeat racing as he wondered how they would feel under his. Soon he would find his hands balling into fists, fighting an invisible battle between desire and duty. Still he could never tear his gaze away from you.

The true test however came one night when you suddenly rolled over to his side, your face perfectly aligned with the crook of his neck and your hand perfectly landing to where his hand was. While this was nothing major compared to whatever he had gotten up to in the sheets, it sent his heart racing like none other. Almost automatically, he brought his hand up to your face, ghosting the outlines of your jaw, pausing by your chin as his gaze become fixated on your lips which was plush and parted slightly — so innocent yet so tantalizing and inviting. 

Desires begin to muddle his mind, self-control cascading as he transformed himself to his human form. The space he occupied sinking instantly with his weight, causing you to stir in your sleep. Alarmed, Jake immediately hovered over you, his hand gently covering your eyes as he whispered words laced with enchantments in your ears, “it’s all just a dream love.”

He slowly slid his hand down your face, thumbs caressing your cheek softly as he watched how your brows furrow as your instinct and will to wake up warred with his enchantments. Jake leaned down, planting soft kisses on your neck, “go back to sleep.”

Finally you eased up, gradually laying limp in his embrace. Jake smiled softly at the sight, that was close. He should have pulled away then but as if there was a magnetic pull, Jake could not tear himself from you nor did he want to. As if his senses were on overdrive, he could feel everything amplified. The way your body was perfectly dwarfed under his larger frame was evoking something primal and protective within him. The warmth emanating from your body was warming his own, enveloping him, making his skin tingle in anticipation. The scent of your hair and the lingering fragrance of your soap — a mélange of florals and greens — enticing him, intoxicating him to draw closer.  

His fingers begin to trail down, tracing patterns along your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbones. Your skin was soft and smooth and he marvelled at the sensation of it all against his fingertips. Every touch sent jolts of electricity through his body, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole.

Eventually his eyes returned back to your lips — these damned lips, he thought as the pad of his thumb brush softly over your lower lip, watching the soft flesh softening and bending under the subtle pressure of his fingertips before springing back to its plush and supple form, plunging his mind to treacherous depths where he envisions that it was his lips doing the undoing, mouth devouring yours, tasting the sweetness that he knew could be savoured on his tongue.

That was when something snapped and the next thing he knew, he had lowered his mouth to yours, gently pressing his lips against yours, intoxicated by the softness of your lips and the warmth which was enveloping him whole.

That should have been it. He should have pulled away then. After all, he just wanted a taste. But the more tasted, the more he craved and soon he found himself claiming your lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. As your lips parted under his insistence, his tongue plunged deep inside your mouth, as if seeking to devour you whole. You tasted like honey and sin and Jake just couldn’t get enough, yearning for more.

Desperate for more contact, his hand was already gripping your clothes, tugging it down, resulting in a slight tear – the sound of which knocked him back to his senses. He pulled away, breathing ragged, startled by the state he had reduced you to. Your hair was slightly disheveled, lips swollen, and shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, exposing a bruise that was blooming on your collarbone – physical manifestations of the intensity of his desires. Guilt seized him as he realised the extent of his actions and almost immediately, he backed away from you, recognising the depths of depravity he was capable of reaching. With self-control hanging by a thread, he knew he would lose all forms of control if he stayed any longer so with a heavy heart and mind still reeling from conflicting emotions, Jake teleported himself back to his realm.

You jolted awake not long after, your heart pounding in your chest as you sat up in alarm. It must have been another nightmare, you thought, trying to shake off the lingering sensations of paralysis that still clung to your body. With a dismissive shake of your head, you laid back down, your lips feeling strangely sore and dry. As you licked your lips, your eyes flickered open, tasting something metallic on your tongue. Curious, you brought your fingers to your lips, probing the spot that throbbed. To your surprise, your fingers came away smeared with blood.

— iii.

Back in his realm, Jake wasted no time in seducing a couple of others, spending the rest of the night in a blur of ecstasy in a bid to distract and numb himself with pleasures. Perhaps, the temporary pause in his libertine pursuits had led such desires to fester dangerously, he thought.

Except when he woke up the next day, you still bore at the back of his mind. Almost as if scalded, he could still feel the warmth of your skin in his hand, the softness of your lips on his lips. Worse, he yearns for it – yearns to feel more.

Something was going wrong, he thought to himself as he lingered around the market just outside of the apartment where he had spent the night at. Eager and desperate for a distraction he wandered further, letting himself be lost in the hustle and bustle of the morning crowd, looking aimlessly at the selection of fruits and flowers being sold.

As he passed by one of the exits however, he caught a glimpse of an archway materializing at a desolated corner, dark and thorny vines crawling out from within as if calling him. He had passed by this corner of the street a billion times before but he swore he had never seen the archway.

He called upon one of the boys playing nearby, “Hey, is that like the entrance to a new market or something?”

The boy squinted to where he was pointing but only looked back at Jake weirdly, “what do you mean? What archway? It’s just the unsightly brick wall-“

“There,” Jake pointed again, adamant, “the alley-“

“Sir, you’re either trying to scare me or you need your eyes checked because I’m seeing nothing but a dead-end,” the boy grimaced, shaking his head as he rejoined his friends in the crowd.

“What an insolent bast-“ he stopped short, looking back at the alley, the vines getting longer and longer. He suddenly realised what it was and why no one was seeing it. The Abyss, he muttered to himself, recalling all the tales he was told during his schooling years about a portal to another dimension – a dimension that is akin to a black market, having absolutely anything one could ever desire especially the most forbidden and illicit of desires. Hence why entering the realm has been forbidden, especially to those like Jake who hold official positions and is considered amongst the most noble and elite of beings.

But curiosity got the best of him. After all, the Abyss cannot be sought for it seeks on its own instead. In fact, rumours has it that only those with dark desires could open up the portal and Jake was confident that he had none of that. After all, he has absolutely everything anyone covets: good looks; wealth; reputation and glory. If he wanted he could get promoted; get the hottest girl in town; get the most lavish manor in the realm; and so on. Feeling haughty, Jake pulled his cloak over his head, slipping past the crowd towards the archway, "let's see what you think you can offer me then."

To Jake's disappointment, nothing had materialised so far no matter how deep he ventured. It was just an misty alley with faint cacophony of noises like murmurs, bells, and chatters. Jake scoffed, see, he thought to himself, no dark desires.

When he turned around to go back however, his grin faltered as the alley now disappeared, replaced by a literal abyss.

“Everyone has dark desires young man.”

Jake jumped, startled. Behind him was an decrepit old man, face hardened with wrinkles, “you’re not the only Elite who has walked these paths,” he grinned lopsidedly, “I can assure you they all thought the same way you did. Head held high, face grimacing in contempt as if they had just walked into muck. But in the end, they were always the ones who went so far as to trade their powers and long life – always the one ended up becoming the most wicked. Exactly the ones tragedies are made about.”

Jake swallowed thickly. He can see shadows forming behind the man, making the outlines of a mass of people congregating as if he was an exhibit. The muffled sounds now growing louder – almost like a bedlam. “Nothing is materializing though,” Jake managed, trying to cover the fear that was brewing within.

“Young man,” the elderly scoffed, “you being able to open up the Abyss alone is a feat no ordinary goodie can do.”

Suddenly a gust of wind hit him, causing Jake to cover his face with his cloak. By the time he pulled his hand away, he was back in the market – right where the arch was – except this time, there was no arch. Like the boy from earlier said, it was a dead end. There was a sudden ringing in his ear, causing him to double down, before everything quietened almost too deafeningly.

Come again once you know what is it that your heart truly desires boy.

Jake spun around, alert. But the old man was nowhere to be found.

— iv.

Troubled and unsettled, Jake went back to the human realm to find you. You had, after all, became his own little solace – like a home to return to. Even if you couldn’t see, hear nor feel him — all he needed was you close by. 

Except just when he needed you the most, he couldn’t find you. You weren’t anywhere you were supposed to be nor anywhere you could be. This would not have alarmed him so had he not also been able to sense you.

Fuck, he panicked, wings almost set ablaze as he rushed from one place to another at impossible speed. There could only be one reason as to why he could not sense someone he had 'targeted': the target had been struck by others.

“No no no no no,” he muttered in disbelief, chest heaving in panic. Jake never lose control nor composure but right now, he was spiralling. Gone was his pride by the time he appeared by Sunoo’s doorstep, dishevelled and manic, spitting out his version of events.

“You weren’t supposed to go down the Abyss!” Sunoo chastised him the moment Jake told him about it, “you know just venturing there robs you of your power – albeit momentarily.”

“Is that what this is?” Jake paced back and forth, “must be right? that I can't sense her simply because of whatever curse the Abyss had put on me?” He grasped Sunoo by the shoulders, eyes wild with fear, “–not because she has been struck?”

“Jake–“ Sunoo croaked, caught off guard by Jake’s sudden outburst and outpour of emotions, “–just, please calm down first. Since everything seems fine to you, it’s possible your loss of detection is the momentary punishment for going down the Abyss but... we can’t also be sure that she has not been struck yet.”

Jake knows that very well. Except, he didn’t expect that the loss would have impacted him this greatly. It was true what they say then. That the Abyss is so wretched and cursed, just venturing down will rob you of something that is very valuable to you. He never considered it before, thinking that losing his ability momentarily would probably do him good – giving him the respite he so badly needed after working so hard. Little did he know, it struck him exactly where it hurts.

“When will it come back?”

“If it’s your first time down there, probably a night. But the more you go, the longer the effects last,” Sunoo sighed, “Just wait until tomor-“

“I can’t fucking wait until tomorrow,” Jake bellowed, infuriated, before sinking onto a nearby couch, head buried in his hands as he tried to calm himself down. Sunoo sighed. It was the first time he saw Jake so wrecked, it almost pained him. "The Royal Scotts Rooftop," Sunoo muttered quietly, guilt evident in his voice, "I followed the girl earlier, hoping to find you. When you weren't around, I thought maybe you've lost interest- that'd be good-" he paused, "but I guess, you've never lost it."

Jake rose up immediately, he wanted to berate Sunoo for not telling him sooner but at that time nothing could top his desire and urgency to find you so before Sunoo could even finish, Jake had taken off.

— v.

Despite the sea of people on the rooftop of the 5-Star hotel, he could immediately spot you.

His face immediately lit up, materializing behind you within seconds. “I’ve searched everywhere for you,” he sighed, gaze softening, before suddenly feeling a hand go through him towards you. He turned around, seeing that the hand belonged to a well-dressed man with ‘Jay’ on his name tag – a consultant from another company who had worked with you on a project a year ago, “the confettis,” Jay mumbled, inching unnecessarily close – at least by Jake’s standards – towards you to try and ruffle some from your hair.

“Oh thanks,” you reached over to your hair, trying to take them out yourself, before breaking into laughter over the fact that Jay had a lot of glitter in his, “dude – you’re worse-“

Within seconds Jake had already parsed Jay’s character and his history – finding that, despite the clash of characters, Jay would be good for you. He was very giving, affectionate, and selfless – something you, Jake thought, definitely deserve. Jay definitely is the best match out of all the potential matches so far, Jake thought to himself.

This should have been enough for him to rejoice at, for him to start reaching for the arrow in his quiver. After all, it’s rare to see you interact socially with men and have a good time with them — even rarer to find that particular man to be one of the best match he had come across for you. Sure, you two had really strong characters that would square the other at times but Jay would ultimately always be willing to break himself for you and give you the world. 

Had you been any other person, Jake would have already struck you both in seconds, latching you both together. But peculiarly, his mind was working on overdrive finding 1001 reasons not to instead. “Come to think about it,” Jake reasoned, feeling irked by the second, “this man is too affectionate and too selfless. You wouldn’t want someone like that right?” he materialised behind you, whispering in your ear as if you could hear him.

When you excused yourself to get some refreshments, Jake continued trailing behind you, ranting on and on as if trying to justify his actions. Or lack thereof, “I mean, eventually people like those will just bog you down,” he overtook you, stopping right in front of you, gesticulating wildly, “the kind that will make you stay out of guilt – make you second guess your own personality and character. I can see it happen y/n.”

He could see then that a tall guy near the podium was staring right at you — the interest and attraction evident in his eyes. “Heeseung-“ Jake read the name on his tag, his mind already parsing through him, seeing that Heeseung was one of the senior officers in the department just across of yours to whom you had always held high regard of. Him to you too. Again, this would have been a perfect match. Unlike Jay earlier, his personality and character would hardly ever square yours. He’d always relent to your choices and your ways, letting you call the shots. 

You caught a glimpse of Heeseung, giving a quick nod of acknowledgement and almost immediately Jake blocked your view, as if it even does anything, “not him either y/n,” he argued defensively, “he’s a hopeless romantic. You’d get sick of him in the long run.”

Just next to Heeseung is another guy who also by then kept throwing glances at you. Ni-Ki, an intern who was under your tutelage just a year ago but has since then moved on to other department. Jake grimaced as he parsed through the young lad’s memory, “definitely not him. Too young, still childish.”

Eventually, you turned away from the crowd, and looked out at the street below, your mind reeling from all the socialising you’ve had to do earlier. As your mind wandered, you find yourself becoming increasingly lost in your own thoughts, unaware of the intense gaze fixed upon you. “No one here is deserving of you y/n,” Jake murmured softly as he leaned sideways against the baluster, his eyes transfixed on your profile. 

As if spellbound, Jake studied your features as if you were a work of art. His eyes traced the delicate lines of your face, the curve of your cheek, the gentle slope of your nose, and the soft fullness of your lips. He inched closer, drawn to you like a moth to a flame, until he was so near that you could have felt his breath on your skin, had he been tangible.

And then, in a sudden twist, you turned your head abruptly in his direction, your eyes locking with his in direct precision almost as if you could sense his presence and see beyond the veil of invisibility that cloaked him. He watched, completely paralysed, as your brow twitched ever so subtly, hand raised close towards where his cheek were as if you could really perceive him. Jake’s breath hitched — enchanted — as he gently angled his face towards your palm, slowly resting his cheek against your hand, imagining the warmth of your touch, the softness of your skin. 

Lulled by the possibility, Jake's throat tightened, bringing his invisible hand up to yours, ghosting over it as if cupping it — yearning for the connection to be tangible, for you to see him, to feel the touch that he so desperately wanted to give.

He still have not fully understood the swirl of emotions and feelings he harboured for you but in that moment — when it felt like there was only you two in this world — he knew he wanted this. You for him, and him for you. 

He wanted to freeze time, to prolong this moment of connection that felt so right, but a voice broke through the intimate silence, shattering the fragile bubble he had created.

“You haven’t changed a bit-“

Jake felt a large hand pass through his, taking hold of yours, and his heart constricted with a pang of longing. The hand he had wanted to grasp, to hold, was now in the possession of another man — a tall and pale senior coworker who was supposed to still be on an overseas posting. Jake's breath hitched as he looked up and witnessed the smile on your face, a smile that he had never seen directed at anyone else. 

"Sunghoon?" your voice lit up with surprise and delight, and Jake felt a stab of jealousy at the warmth in your tone, "I thought you won’t be back for another two years!”

Jake stepped back, his invisible form fading into the shadows as he witnessed the reunion between you and Sunghoon. The hand he had longed to hold was now entwined with someone else's, and the smile he had wanted to claim for himself was shining for another. The warmth, familiarity and endearment between you and the man was so evident that it begun to stir something unfamiliar within Jake — a mix of protectiveness and longing that he couldn't quite name.

“Thought life here was much better so I sped the contract up,” Sunghoon shrugged haughtily.

“I bet it's because I wasn’t there,” you joked, trying to match his playful haughtiness. Usually Sunghoon would have replied with something equally as smug but somehow, something has changed and you could feel it in the way his eyes bore into yours and the way his hand had tightened over yours, lingering purposefully far too long for it to be casual. “Exactly,” he answered almost too genuinely you find yourself at a loss for words so you do what you do best — feign nonchalance, “oh bugger off,” you playfully yank your hand away, “What have America done to you!”

He grinned mischievously, “well, you know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

You shook your head dismissively though the smile that has never left your lips and the way your eyes never broke his conveyed more than words could ever.

“Can I get a hug now? You never visited like you promised you would,” he extended his hands, brows wriggling playfully.

“I never made such promises but fine-“ you shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance, as you let him draw you nearer, let him engulf you in his large frame. You have hugged him before but this time, this too, felt different. “I’ve missed you y/n,” you feel him bend lower so he could bury his head in the crook of your neck and you feel his hand slide over your waist almost too intimately for it to just be a friendly hug. 

This time however you didn’t feign nonchalance, deflect nor playfully reject him. Instead you let yourself sink fully into the warmth of his embrace, your hands reaching up to hug him back as your head leaned against his chest, eyes shut as you murmured softly, “me too.”

Jake had never seen a more perfect pair. Sure you two had your differences but together, you guys complement each other seamlessly like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. Your strengths balanced each other''s weaknesses, and your personalities would harmonize in a beautiful and enviable symphony of love and understanding.

Now would have been perfect, Jake found his rational self thinking, his hand automatically reaching for a golden arrow from his quiver. But instead of nocking the arrow and releasing it toward its intended target, he found himself hesitating, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip.

In a surprising twist, Jake turned the arrow on himself, driving it into his own chest, directly over his heart. Immediately, the arrow exploded into a shower of glittering dust, as was its nature. Although the arrow had no physical effect on beings like him, with the way his interest and attention on you has dangerously warped with a mix of attraction, desire, and lust — he might as well have been shot with one. 

How peculiar, he thought. He had always wondered how does such intense love which human shared with one another feel and yet now that he felt it rising from within, all he felt was bitterness rather than joy. 

The glittering dust that lingered in the air seemed to mock Jake, serving as a tangible reminder of the complex emotions swirling within him — emotions of which was increasingly blurring the lines between duty and desire. While usually symbolising some sort of celebration, the glittering particles which was still dancing around him now felt like a warning, a sign that his path was veering into uncharted and potentially dangerous territory.

He knew then, perhaps a little too late, that he wanted you. Wanted you for himself.

— vi.

Since then gone was the desire within him to match you with anyone. In fact, gone was his desire to match anyone at all as he becomes increasingly preoccupied with you — more specifically, his desires for you.

He had begun to take on human forms longer than usual, trying to get your attention, trying to slip himself into the fabric of your life. But the task, which usually had been easy for him, was difficult this time because apparently his face and charms weren’t enough.

Having observed you for a long time he knew that blatant attention and attraction would put you off so he made sure to lay and play each parts carefully and strategically, making it seem as if everything was coincidental.

“Hi, I believe this is yours?” You asked innocently when Jake opened his door. In your hand was a parcel which had his name and address but somehow wrongly delivered at your doorstep.

Finally, Jake thought to himself, his heart almost leaping out of his ribcage. He had been waiting impatiently the whole day for you after having paid someone to deliver the package wrongly at your doorstep.

Almost effortlessly he feigned surprise and confusion, “right, sorry about that, I’m new in this apartment block so maybe there's a mix-up," he shrugged, careful to not look overeager, "been waiting for this limited copy of 1984 to arrive, thank goodness it got wrongly delivered in the right hands otherwise it would probably get resold in ebay or something—"

“1984?” Your face lit up. Of course my dear, it’s one of your favourite books isn’t it, Jake answered in his mind. Oblivious to the glint in his eyes and the subtle twitch of his lips, you continued excitedly, “I rarely see anyone around me read 1984!”

“Now you do,” he said charmingly as he offered his hand, satisfied at the way you have eased up, “my name is Jake. Jake Sim. I’ve just moved.”

“Oh I’m y/n,” you introduced, “I live in the apartment right under yours.”

I know, he muttered to himself in his mind, “thank you for this y/n. I’ll see you around.”

You nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to the way his words seemingly had double meaning.

The next few weeks Jake busied him by encroaching your life ever so subtly and strategically. You bumped into him in the same aisle at the bookstore and ended up chatting in a nearby coffee about your favourite books which somehow is similar to his. You bumped into him at dawn just outside your apartment complex before you go on your run, he himself was warming up for his, and that ended up with you two going on a run together.

Eventually you two became closer than mere neighbours that he could somehow orchestrate to get himself inside your place, “sorry about that-“ he apologised, coming out of your shower with the robe draping loosely and casually over his shoulders, making a poor effort of covering his chiseled chest and abs. 

While Jake was indeed very good-looking, you’ve always thought something about his looks seems so ethereal. But now, shed of all the sleek suits and tidy hair, he looks humanely good-looking and you found yourself almost stuttering in surprise when he got out.

“You should report it to the Head Office tomorrow," you averted your eyes towards the kettle in your kitchen, "I mean it's an expensive penthouse, how can the hot water be broken so soon? must be shoddy construction job or lack of maintenance."

“Burning the midnight oil?” He asked, leisurely leaning against the counter as he dried his hair.

“Yeah,” you sighed, pouring it into the flask where you had already added some coffee grounds and sugar. You felt the weight of his stare and out of pure courtesy, offered him as well, “oh, would you like–" you hesitated, "maybe not right? It’s almost 12.”

“Actually, yeah, that would be great,” he smiled, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that felt almost spellbinding. While Jake wanted nothing more than to bridge the physical gap in between you and him, and take your lips right there and then, he knew better than to submit to his desires this early. With others, it might have worked but with you he definitely had to take it slow. It pained him but like a prized conquest — he was willing to go through it.

Except regardless of how well-crafted his plans were, nothing could outpace what is really written. While he struggled to escalate the friendship he had built with you, Sunghoon had gotten closer and closer to you. 

When you did not come home one night, Jake re-assumed his non-human form, immediately locating you back in your office where you were burning the midnight oil with Sunghoon. 

Jake feels his anger simmering as he watched how Sunghoon latched onto you, following you wherever you go. He watched in frustration as Sunghoon hands hover close to you, as if being territorial; how his hands would even sometimes linger over yours more than necessary.

But it was the sight of you seemingly reciprocating him that was the most painful to bear: the way you let his hand lingered; the way you held his gaze instead of staring away; the way you never shifted as he drew nearer. 

The next thing he knew, Sunghoon had closed the distance between you and him, his lips gently pressing against yours, his hand snaking up your back to hold you ever closer. Jake was mortified. When you pulled away not long after, seeking a moment to catch your breath, Jake was sure then that you would have shoved Sunghoon off, perhaps even slap him for his boldness. But nothing of that sort happened for when Sunghoon re-attached his lips to yours, you didn’t resist, surrendering to the sensations he elicited, letting him devour you as you melt slowly into his embrace and touch.

Jake could feel the fury consuming him as he trudged up behind you, stabbing you with a lead-tipped arrow which would have sowed seeds of dislike for the other person but to his surprise, the arrow dissolved into dust the moment he stabbed it onto your back – telltale signs that the arrow will not work on you and nor Sunghoon.

That was when Jake knew that you were already written for Sunghoon and when that happens, nothing can usually be done because messengers are just really lower spiritual beings. That should have been Jake’s cue to give up but instead, it became a tipping point of when it all started going awry.

As his feelings festered in the worse of ways, he became more relentless and persistent in his pursuit of you. Except any small space he could have slithered himself ‘coincidentally’ into was becoming narrower as it becomes increasingly filled by Sunghoon. Soon it was Sunghoon who accompanied you running; Sunghoon who ate lunch with you; Sunghoon who accompanied you at bookstores; Sunghoon who sent you home; Sunghoon who stayed in your place until late.

There was absolutely no space for Jake anymore.

“Yes?” Sunghoon answered your apartment door one evening, not even bothering to conceal the distaste he felt within to see Jake at the door.

“Is y/n in?” Jake asked shamelessly.

Sunghoon shook his head, “she’s in the shower.”

There was an almost casual and domestic vibe to which Sunghoon was answering that question and Jake did not like it one bit. "There was a party at my workplace earlier," Jake passed on the box of cake and bouquet of flowers to him, "thought I'd share."

"Roses?" Sunghoon raised his brows, "She actually doesn't like roses. While she does like flowers, she actually doesn't like receiving them". Jake had to muster an insurmountable amount of energy not to let Sunghoon's words affect him even when he can clearly feel the venom laced in every words, "Oh and cake?" Sunghoon went on, "don't bother, she just like a spoonful or two, not the whole box."

You bastard, Jake muttered in his mind, wanting nothing more but to punch Sunghoon squarely in the face. More than that, he hated how Sunghoon knew the nuances of your likes and dislikes, making anything that Jake knew felt surface-level. If Jake knew your favourite colour, Sunghoon would probably know the exact shade of it; if Jake knew your favourite book, Sunghoon could probably cite your favourite quotes from it; if Jake knew you couldn't handle the cold, Sunghoon would probably know the precise timing of when to turn the heater on and off like an automatic thermostat. It was a sickening testament to the history and nature of your relationship with Sunghoon – of how far and deep it goes, the gap of which Jake could probably never bridge.

But Jake knows the subject of love well. With a mastery over the mechanics of love, he therefore knows exactly where the weakest links could be; where doubts and concerns can be sowed over time to topple the whole structure. In between you and Sunghoon, Jake knew your aloofness and romantically-inept nature can be a problem in the long-run with Sunghoon's possessive tendencies and predisposition towards jealousy. So Jake wanted to capitalize that.

"I mean, I just wanted to also thank her for the other night," Jake emphasized, noticing the way Sunghoon's jaw was already tensing, "when she let me shower at her place. It was so late but she was such an angel."

Jake could see the way in which the poison in his words worked it way through Sunghoon's system from the subtle ways in which Sunghoon's brows twitched and the way his jaw ticked though he tried to mask it with a diplomatic grin, "she has always been such an angel to the point of not sensing the ulterior motives in others," Sunghoon remarked with a hint of diplomatic sarcasm, "I'll make sure to pass the message. Next time it happens, let me know instead, I'll send a plumber right to your doorstep."

With that, the door closed and Jake's grin widened in triumph as he walked away, certain to have sowed instrumental doubts between you two. Except, as he lingered around the common area of your apartment floor, Sunghoon showed no signs of leaving. When 2 hours passed, he got even more agitated, impatience taking hold. It almost felt as if he was the one that has been toppled out of control. Jake had to do something though knocking at your door again is probably not the best idea.

So Jake transformed back to his non-human form – the ability of which was diminishing as days passed, the result of slacking in his duties and staying too long in his human form.

When Jake slipped inside your apartment, he could feel the dread rising, seeing the hallway too dimly-lit. “y/n,” he sighed in relief as he entered the living room and see you seated at the couch but soon the smile faltered as Sunghoon, who was beside you, leaned in and pressed his lips against yours – kissing you softly and tenderly. It was all cute and lighthearted – something Jake would have rejoiced seeing had it been any other person. But this was not just any other person. It was you. His you.

His hand gradually balled into a fist as he watched Sunghoon curled his hand over your nape, seizing you in place as he leaned in further to deepen the kiss. As the moment lingered, there was a palpable shift in the air – the sizzling tension of which was only mirrored in the way the kiss was escalating beyond it ever has with Sunghoon’s passion and desire growing more intense by the second as if he had been struck by countless of golden arrows.

Jake’s gaze hardened and as if possessed, he took out countless of lead-tipped arrows, stabbing it onto Sunghoon’s back in a desperate effort to stop him – only for each arrow to dissolve into black dusts – leaving Jake with no choice but to watch the horror unfold before him.

“Stop,” Jake croaked, hoping that you would pull away, that you would resist. But you didn’t. Instead Sunghoon’s body surged forward with urgency, forcing you to lean back onto the couch, his lips still glued onto yours. His movements were almost territorial now as he caged you in, his figure dwarfing yours completely while his hands rove possessively down your waist and up your back, tracing every curve and contour of your form, causing shiver to run down your spine.

Breathless, you pulled away, eyes locked into each other, breathing ragged, hearts racing wildly — the air almost catching fire from the sizzling tension. Sunghoon’s gaze, usually soft and doe-like, had darkened with raw passion and desire. Without anymore pretense nor hesitation, he plunged back in, crushing his lips down upon yours with fierce hunger, leaving you reeling from the force of his kiss. 

In a clear display of dominance and possession, Sunghoon pressed himself firmly against you, his lips parting yours, tongue slithering in to delve deeper, devouring you whole. It was clear then that this wasn’t just a simple kiss anymore. Jake knew exactly where it was all heading. 

And yet Jake was powerless to stop it.

— vii.

Jake re-entered the Abyss easily now for this was his 4th time. The 2nd was when he converted almost all of his riches for human money just so he can buy his disguises and play pretend in the human world. After all, the designers he wear and the penthouse above yours cost a fortune. The 3rd was when he bought more energy so he can stay longer in his human form. 

By now, the Abyss was no longer just a hazy dark alley of market with only one or two sellers visible. As Jake begin to understand and embrace all the dark desires he harboured for you, the place was now teeming with sellers.

It was true what the old man had said then, that the Abyss only reveals itself and the fullness of its world when you acknowledge your dark desires. In fact, the sellers that he can see are those who sell anything related to love and hate – as if the Abyss perfectly curates what you can see according to what your heart desires.

Jake marched to the corner where potions are being sold, the lady materialising out of nowhere, slithering in and out of the colourful fumes like a serpent. He reached for a ‘love potion’ — a bubbling concoction in deep red, “I want this but the strongest one. Get me the strongest hate potion too.”

“Gladly,” the seller cackled when suddenly the old man from the other day appeared behind Jake, “a messenger of love buying a love potion – do you, yourself, not see the irony in that young boy?”

Jake glowered at the man.

The man continued, “if someone like you can’t change her feelings, what makes you think potions can?”

Jake balled his fist, “tell me what to do then,” he lurched at the man, crumpling his collar, “you said this place has everything I could want, tell me where I could go then- who I should find- what I should buy-"

“What you want,” the man smirked, his eyes a pool of darkness, “carries a hefty price beyond all the wealth you’ve amassed.”

“Anything-“ Jake pleaded, memories of earlier replaying in his mind like a broken record, “I want her.”

Suddenly with a snap of a finger, Jake found himself transported into what looked like an underground cistern. Everywhere he looked were stretches of gigantic columns, dimly illuminated by an eerie red glow. 

Jake almost jumped, startled, when he turned around to see the old man sneering, his face contorting oddly. "The Netherworld?" Jake asked almost spitefully, "you've brought me to the Netherworld?"

“Get off your high horse young man,” he brushed past Jake, “entering the Abyss was one thing but being able to follow me into the Netherworld is another. You remember all the cautionary tales don’t you? It takes a very corrupted heart for a being like you to break through the veil and enter here-“

Jake watched the man descend down the stairs, alarmed when he saw his shadows bearing horns. When his eyes snapped back up the old man had turned into someone younger and taller — more than 2 ft — with horns curving out of his head and robes that seemed to be made entirely of black smoke, “what? you didn’t think I was an Angel did you?”

Jake took a step back, “you must be out of your mind to think that I would want to work with you, a wretched Evil Spirit of some sort?”

“You say that as if you’re spitting venom and yet the desires you have are just as wretched,” the man cackled, the shadows behind him growing imposingly large, “face it, their fates are written to be intertwined, how else do you expect to win her then? Parade as human? For how long exactly? You know you cannot overstay in the human world.”

“I saw a spell for partial mortality earlier,” Jake reasoned, startled when the man suddenly reappeared behind him, his long bony fingers gripping Jake’s shoulders, immobilising him from any attempts to run away, “right, at the cost of what Jake? Half of your wings? Entertain me then, how does mortality make you any more attractive to her.”

Jake opened his mouth, ready to answer but found no argument left. He heard the demon scoffing, his slender fingers brushing over Jake’s large wings which had by then turned a weird shade of grey from its original pristine white — symbolising the gradual corruption that had took hold, “in fact all of your converted riches would soon be used up before you can even get an ounce of additional interest from her. She is after all written for him.”

The demon snapped his fingers, reflecting you and Sunghoon at your most intimate moments on a dark pool nearby. It was a picture he had often been fantasising as of late except, the man that was taking you right now wasn't him. Consumed in fury — the emotion of which seemed to have amplified now that he was in the Netherworld — Jake shot his arrow against the reflection, the ripples causing the images to disappear. 

“Ooo, calm down lover boy,” the demon cooed, feigning fear by backing away, “I didn’t just plunge you down the murkiest of depths just to taunt you”.

“Then what?” Jake’s chest heaved in anger.

The demon smirked, suddenly looming larger than life, “there is possibly another way for you-“

“Spit it.”

“Take her away,” the demon suggested almost too lightheartedly, “bring her to this other plane. It's the only way you can fortify against the string that connects them. Wipe her memory clean, keep her preoccupied and just like that, she is all yours."

“But humans shouldn’t live in our realm.”

“Shouldn’t not can’t,” the demon corrected, “though no sooner than you can make love to her will you have the guards on your doorstep, sentencing you to death for breaking laws and ethics.”

Jake’s brows furrowed, "you call that a solution?"

The demon floated towards him, stooping to Jake's height as if wanting to appear as an ally now, "of course not, I'm just laying out all the options for you because I want to make sure that the choices you make are informed."

Jake's brows furrowed, patience wearing thin, "stop with the dramatics. You're a fucking demon, you will never make a deal that would be of the best interest for the other party."

"Well, I can shelter you both in this domain," he gesticulated wildly, "it's the only place that the guards don't venture into." The demon's grin widened as he watched the muscles in Jake's face easing, "told you I am on your side."

Visions of you in Jake's arms swirled in his mind. If he brings you here then indeed nothing else could come in between. Not Sunghoon, not anyone. There would just be him for you and you for him. Jake exhaled sharply, “what’s the catch?”

“Good boy,” the demon cackled, a throne materialising behind him and he sunk on it, “just work for me.”

Jake watched him in confusion as he looked around, wondering what would he need an extra hand for. The demon continued, “your arrows,” he motioned and suddenly his golden arrows turned black, trail of black smoke emanating from it, “use it to sow hatred and chaos. One strike on someone and his darkest desires would amplify to the point of action.”

“You-“ Jake swallowed thickly, the fables of when he was young ringing deafeningly in his head. He had heard of so many tragedies during his lifetime but he didn’t know he’d end up as the very man people cautioned him against: the elites who held the most potential but eventually turning to the dark side. Jake always thought of himself as incorruptible and yet here he was in the Netherworld, about to give up everything just to strike deal with a demon.

As if sensing his hesitancy, the pool nearest to him begin to reflect an image of you and Sunghoon in yet another intimate moment and just like that, something within him snapped. "I'll do it," Jake muttered in a low, yet steady voice, eyes glinting, "but you have to make her mine. Completely mine.”

The shadows that emanated from the demon's robe grew thicker, consuming him, leaving only loud his loud cackes echoing deafeningly throughout the cistern, "deal."

— viii.

You felt Sunghoon's hand seized your wrist, his touch firm as he pulled you onto bed. His lips found yours, tangling it in a passionate kiss, as his body clambered over yours, his touch possessive as he held you captive in his embrace. It took a considerable effort to pull away and break free from his grip which was almost like talons, "Sunghoon, come on now, I'll be back after my run-" you wedged an arm in between, stopping him as he attempted to reclaim your lips again. He sighed, burying his head lazily in the crook of your neck, "do you have to?" he murmured. There was a hint of plead in his voice, "it's not even sunrise yet."

"Exactly," you chirped, "best time to run."

Sunghoon sighed again, his grip reluctantly loosening as he rose from the bed, his hand gently snaking over your back to help you up. He hated letting you go alone for all he wanted was to keep you safe and close, by his side. But if there was anyone who understood you best in the world, it would be him. He knew how much you cherished your independence and freedom and he respected that, willing to give you the space and the alone time that you need, "promise to stick to well-lit and well-trodden paths?" he murmured softly with a gaze that is so soft and tender while his thumbs drew circles on your back, his touch both soothing and protective.

"Always," you reassured him, voice steady and calm.

You got off the bed, Sunghoon trailing closely behind, his hand never leaving yours. Once you had put on your shoes, you tiptoed towards him, planting a kiss on his lips as a reassurance. You could feel him smile into the kiss, his hand gently cradling your nape to stop you from drawing back, wanting to make the moment last longer. "Seriously," you hit him playfully and he captured your hand in his, holding onto it until you slipped out the door, lingering up until the very last moments.

Little did you know that your little kiss — an act you'd rarely initiate — would be your goodbye and little did he know that his reluctance, which was oddly so strong and defied all logics that dawn, was almost like a premonition of the tragedy that would befell you both.

— ix.

When you arrived at the park where you usually run at, you remembered feeling the dread rising. The trail was too foggy, the lights flickering doing nothing but making the whole place looked like a copy of Silent Hill. But you were always so fearless for your good, so you quell your doubts and anxieties — putting them aside as baseless.

Except when you began running, the fog only grew heavier and as you approached a bend, a massive black dog appeared out of nowhere, barking wildly at you. Startled, you veered off the main trail, hoping to outpace the menacing creature. As you hurried, your foot caught on an exposed root, and you stumbled. Before you knew it, you were tumbling down a steep embankment, the world spinning around you in a dizzying blur. You tried to grab onto something, anything, but your descent was swift and uncontrollable. Finally your tumbling ceased, leaving you in a crumpled heap, your body throbbing in pain.

As you lay there, numb and in pain, blinking against the dizziness, you noticed something peculiar about your surroundings. The familiar pine forest had transformed into a grove of ancient trees, their massive trunks reaching high into the sky. The sky, starless and moonless, was bathed in an eerie shade of dark blue as if suspended at dawn.

A sense of unease washed over you as you realized something was amiss. The air was heavy and thick with an aura of mysticism with an eerie silence enveloping the forest. You knew instinctively that something was wrong, and the urge to flee began to stir within you. But as you tried to gather your bearings and rise to your feet, your head began to reel, and your eyelids grew heavier. It was as if an unseen force was lulling you into a deep slumber.

You fought against the encroaching darkness, but your efforts were in vain and the last thing you remembered before your world turned black was a huge mass of shadow drawing nearer, its presence filling you with dread.

— x.

You woke with a start, your heart pounding in your chest as the familiar nightmare plagued your sleep once again. The dream was always the same—a black mist enveloping you as you ran, the sense of something sinister chasing you through the darkness. You sat up, burying your face in your hands, when you feel the space on the bed beside you dip. You feel a strong hand wrapped around your waist, its body curled protectively around yours. You feel him bury his face at the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses against it to calm you down. You turned your head, "Jake..." you whispered softly, meeting his warm gaze.

"Nightmares again?" he asked, voice soft and concerned, "you know dreams are just the Devil's plaything."

"Yes but-" you struggled to find the words, your mind still clouded with the remnants of the nightmare. Before you could say more, Jake hauled you onto his lap, his lips claiming yours in a passionate kiss, stealing your breath and your thoughts away. It was a kiss that made you forget the nightmare, a kiss that always felt like the first, no matter how many times he had kissed you before.

His hands roved hungrily over your back, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume all rational thoughts. You kissed him back, surrendering to his passion, feeling him press forward, his lips parting yours with a gentle urgency as his head tilted to deepen the kiss, his tongue seeking yours. The kiss consumed you, sweeping away the remnants of the nightmare and replacing it with a different kind of darkness—one that was intoxicating and exhilarating. You finally managed to catch your breath when he began trailing kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at certain spots, marking you as his own, claiming your skin with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through you. You could feel his desire, his need, and it only fueled your own.

Jake could himself hardly believe the moment would ever come: of him being able to call you his, of him being able to hold you close, of you actually reciprocating his love and touch. But indeed, this had become his every day now. Yet still, he could never get enough of you, wanting to imprint every touch, every kiss, onto your skin. You could feel yourself about to fully lose yourself to the overwhelming intensity of his touch when your eyes drifted to the window behind the bed, where the grove of ancient trees stretched as far as the horizon.

"Those ancient trees outside—" you stammered, trying to fight the overwhelming sensations, "it kept on haunting me in my dreams. Like a memory—" your voice trailed off as you felt yourself thrown back against the mattress, Jake hovering over you, his eyes burning with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You know you can't go out there," his voice was calm but there was an unmistakable warning in his voice, an edge to his tone that you hadn't heard before, "it's too dangerous."

You opened your mouth to protest, to ask why he always cautioned you against venturing into the forest, but any form of protest was muffled by another searing kiss. This kiss was different, hungrier, more primal, making you breathless and weak in the knees. "You're only safe with me y/n," he muttered in between kisses, "you're mine after all," his hips pressed against yours, his hands slipping under your shirt, making you shudder.

Jake had always been gentle towards you so the aggressive and almost primal way in which he was taking you right now was making you feel uncomfortable. The warning bells in your head rang faintly, but the sensations he elicited drowned them out. His kiss was like a drug, clouding your judgment and leaving you helpless to resist. As you felt him press you further into the mattress, your hands instinctively tangled in his hair, pulling him close, your body responding to his touch with a will of his own. Just like the clothing that were shed one by one, any remnants of doubt and hesitation begin to disappear. The morning after, you would wake up as if this castle had always been your home, as if this bed had always been the one you slept on, as if Jake had always been the love of your life.

But sometimes, when the nightmare comes, striking the deepest fear in your heart, a flash of images would surge through your mind, offering a glimpse of another life. Through it all, one constant remained — a man. His face was unclear, his features blurred by the haze of dreams, but his presence loomed large, leaving you with a sense of longing and an ache in your heart that you couldn't quite explain. It was as if your soul recognized him, even if your conscious mind could not recall his name or his face. The man may not possess Jake's gentle and warm nature but he oddly felt so safe. Like home. In fact it weirdly occurred to you that even if you didn't know him, you felt like you'd run towards him on instinct if you were made to choose between him and Jake — as if he's a sanctuary.

But then you wake up, and your heart would pound from the terror of being chased while your heart ached from what felt like loss and longing. While the terror would eventually dissipate throughout the day, the ache lingered, as if a void had opened up within you. That's why you always surrendered to Jake eventually for only it was under his soothing words and tantalizing touch could you fill the void and the quiet of yearning.

Until the next nightmare strikes.

a/n: damn writing the goodbye with Sunghoon made me ache lol. Hope you like this one. I actually enjoyed writing this one even though it did took quite some time to finalise. No, there won't be a Part 2 because I suck at writing continuations lol. And yes, there will be a Part 4 for Dancing with the Devil but patience friends.

>>> | Masterlist |

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer x Artist!Reader • Part 4 [Sneak Peek]

Hey you! 🫵

Waiting for the next part of your epic love story!? Well TOO bad! This bad boy is a beast (literally 13k words) and I ain’t quite done yet.

Buttt~ I love you so much that i’m giving you this lil sneak peak to feast on before I drop the entire thing sometime in the next few days. Enjoy! 😈

Warning: Swearing & mentions of violence

…

You were about to turn away before you felt Lucifer’s grip on your wrist, preventing you from moving. Your gaze met his, but you couldn’t make out what he was feeling behind the sunglasses masking his eyes. The slight tinge of fear laced in his voice gave you a clue, though.

“You should wait,” He spoke soft, but firmly, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You shook your head at him, your gaze scanning the large crowd, before turning back with panicked eyes.

“It’s Angel Dust who’ll get hurt if I don’t find him quickly.” You spoke breathlessly, your heart quickening with every second not searching for your friend.

Leaning forward, you grazed his lips with a quick kiss, “I promise, i’ll be alright.”

He looked at you for another moment, as if contemplating whether to force you to stay in the safety of his presence. He didn’t though, instead letting out an exhale of breath.

“Fine. I’ll distract them for you, then, and try not to make too big of a scene,” Lucifer’s adjusted his sunglasses, before continuing, “but, if I don’t see you back here in ten minutes, there won’t be a club to come back to.” He threatened.

You sent him a reassuring smile, his protective nature making your heart flutter. There was no time for swooning now, though, you had a spider-demon to save.

“Oh, and take this. Just in case. You know how to use one of these, right?”

You looked down at the object in his other hand, your eyes widening at the sight of a small pistol.

“Enough.” Was your only answer as you took it from him, adjusting it between your fingers. You weren’t going to ask him about where it came from, instead just sending him a silent thanks as you turned away.

Quickly, you slid your wrist out of his grip, and hurried off. Lucifer watched you leave, your form melting into the rest of the partierers on the dance floor.

His gaze lingered on the spot where you had disappeared, before he turned towards the group of demons across the room.

They stood in a huddle, snickering between themselves near the entrance to a mysterious back room. Lucifer cleared his throat loudly, and their heads snapped to him.

The dark corner they were standing in partially masked their features, but that bloodthirsty glint in their eyes was unmistakable.

“So, tell me,” Lucifer began, no hint of emotion in his tone, “Which one of you douchebags has a kink for throwing people off of balconies?”

“Who the fuck are you?” A tall, shark-faced man sneered.

“Oh, you know…” Lucifer responded, a slight growl dripping from his voice, “Just a concerned citizen.”

“If you don’t slither back to whatever shit-hole you came out of, Shorty, i’m gonna make sure your last memory is my dagger between your eyes!”

“Oh, I’ll remember you, alright,” Lucifer chuckled darkly, rolling up his sleeves as he stalked forward, the tips of his horns protruding from his head, “As the latest bottom-feeder who thought he could fuck with the Devil.”

The group of demons regarded him with a confused expression for a moment, their gaze bouncing between each other in silent questioning. Unsure about the stranger’s lack of fear.

The shark-demon turned to face them, his frown deepening as he watched them stand there like children waiting for their mommy’s instruction.

“Well? What the hell are you waiting for!? Kill him!”

Brandishing their close-combat weapons, five demons charged at Lucifer. Their menacing frames towering over the smaller man.

“Finally,” Lucifer grinned wickedly, before rolling his shoulders, “Some fun!”

Fingertips igniting with a golden flame, he surged forward, meeting the oncoming gang-members halfway. The closest one gripped their axe tightly, before pulling it behind them. In a blink of an eye, they swung their arms forward.

The axe sliced through the air, aimed right at Lucifer’s throat…

…

The unedited start to the scene of why Luci is the king 😩 This is only a tiny glimpse of what part 4 has to offer, I might even need to separate it into two parts if Tumblr’s character limit waggles its finger at me. We’ll see!

Now back to google docs. See you soon! 🦢

[adnauseum11]

Restricted Operating Zone (John Price x Reader)

Kate has a job offer for John.

850 words

CW: swearing, reference to oral sex

Kate considers it lucky that John is about as relaxed as she’s ever seen him, because he’s not going to be pleased when she delivers the lines she’s been asked to say. John’s a pro, surely, he knows how it goes. Kate’s orders aren’t her own half the time, and often not a first choice. 

“You’re looking better every time I see you, John, still having fun in retirement?”

John nods slowly, a flicker of something crossing his face before he replies. 

In a split second he’s called forth an image in his mind’s eye of his love, her leg thrown over his shoulder and fingers tangled in his hair while he knelt before her in the shower. Her head thrown back as she cried out into the steamy room. She had given him shit over making her cum that hard before work, which had made him laugh. She would be back by now, rattling around alone in that drafty, shitty place she was calling home for the moment.  

“Yeah, you could say that.” He plays a card and leans back, observing her. “Any particular reason you mention it?” He may be out of work but his senses are still keen to corporate grade bullshit. 

“We’ve been having issues with an objective-“

“Oh hell –“

“Just hear me out John” Kate’s trying to get a word in edgewise but John’s not entertaining it.

“No, I don’t need to hear what you’re gonna say. The answer is no.”

Kate sighs, knowing it would go this way and yet, she still has a job to do. She presses on, pushing her luck as much as she dares. She waits a few extra beats to play her card – both literally and figuratively - not because she is unsure, but because she needs John to settle. It works and the anger bleeds out of his eyes, replaced with the cold calculating look she’s more intimately familiar with. 

“They’re offering a wildly lucrative contract. It’s a highly sensitive mission, small task force, Gaz is available and will sign on if you do. An intercept and collect. Exfil already lined up. Just need a signature on the dotted line.”

“Laswell, I’m going to get you a hearing aid for your next birthday. No.”

“John, I wasn’t authorized to accept ‘No.’ This needs to happen, or shit gets hairy on a global scale. Hence the price tag. One last job and you can set up shop with your little missus. I’m guessing you two are still seeing each other?”

The mention of John’s love in the same breath as work makes him clench his cards. His focus narrows onto Laswell, and she has the presence of mind to be uncomfortable with his sudden laser focused attention.

“What did you just say?” There’s a very real threat of menace in his tone.

“Hey – ho. This is a friendly card game, folks. Kate, don’t talk shop at the card table.” Kate’s wife attempts to intercede, placing her own cards down and looking from guest to guest with concern. 

Every invited guest around the table has worked with Kate, and understand the implications of the work. None have worked as long or as closely with Kate as John, and even retired he’s a leader. All eyes swing to Kate to see how she will react. 

“I never see him anymore unless it’s here at cards.” Kate says by way of defence, petulant even in the face of a pissed off John Price. “All I’m saying is it would be nice to start a new life with a nest egg, is all. What if she gets sick?” Her tone is innocent but John sees red.

Kate’s wife is shaking her head in warning, but Kate is too bullheaded to take the advice on. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to see you unless we’re playing cards, Kate.” John responds coolly, folding the cards in his hands flat against the table. “I served my time. I’m moving on with my life. Don’t mention her again, that’s a warning.” His big frame is sitting fully upright now, the loose-limb posture he’d been in since he’d arrived evaporating. 

“You’ve got 96 hours to decide John, or the offer disappears.”

“I don’t need any hours to decide, Laswell, ‘cause I won’t be attending your latest clusterfuck. In fact, I’m not going to attend this poker game.” John throws what could have been a winning hand on the table and stands abruptly.   

“John, there’s no need – “ 

Kate’s backpedaling, realizing she’s overstepped far too late. 

“I’ll see you in a few weeks. In the meantime, don’t contact me.” 

John tucks the chair back into place with way more force than necessary, spilling Kate’s drink as it collides with the frame of the table.

“Jesus Christ Kate – “ 

Her wife is wide-eyed, staring at her with disappointment as John yanks his coat from a peg, slamming the door on his way out.

“Shit.” Kate curses, holding her dripping cards up.

“Did that go how you hoped? Maybe listen to your wife next time.”

Taglist:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos

Next Chapter

[mamawasatesttube]

hi! i wanted to know if you had any thoughts about possibilities for the interactions between kon & matrix? as she was supergirl when he came into the scene and i know they interacted at least a little

they did! this is gonna get kinda long, my apologies, but lets gooo.

so kon and mae's relationship is... fascinating. they started off pretty sweet, with her being a warm and friendly presence when he started off as superboy - she invited him for dinner with lex, and all that, plus helped him with the stinger bridge incident. i often also think about the bit during the trial of superman arc where he tried to teach her to play magic the gathering with him:

however. their relationship took a significant turn for the worse shortly after this, during the arc in which knockout groomed kon into a relationship and manipulated him into helping her run from accountability for a murder he thought she was falsely accused of committing. the press turned very negative about kon aiding and abetting her escape, and mae showed up to confront him about it:

superboy (1994) #28

now there is a LOT to say about this arc and this issue, but there are two main things that stand out to me the most. firstly - this is pretty much a textbook example of what NOT to do when someone is in an abusive relationship, i.e. throw an ultimatum that they have to listen to you and leave immediately. it's how to drive them further into their abuser's arms, and that's exactly what happens with kon and knockout (she even literally tells him he doesn't need anyone but her, which is a classic abuse tactic. isolate the victim from his other would-be support.) ironically, this is also exactly how mae herself reacted when clark and the kents objected (much more gently than she did here!) to her relationship with lex luthor. it is so textbook "what not to do when someone you care about is in an abusive relationship" that i really wonder if kesel did it on purpose. i can't say he did with any confidence, though, given how victim blamey the rest of the narrative gets towards kon and how much he clearly still has a boner for knockout even after this arc ends, but... it is fascinating, i guess.

secondly, though, as much as it sucks, i would say this is completely consistent with mae's characterization in her own run (supergirl '96) which starts not too long after this. mae fuses with linda, which means... she and kon never actually work this out between them. however, mae is consistently characterized as someone who means well but can be hotheaded, judgmental, and prone to being pretty holier-than-thou when she jumps into situations without assessing them fully beforehand, like when a priest of a scam church in her name dies in front of her because she ignored him having a heart attack, not realizing he was trying to reach for his pills and begging her to help him reach the bottle he'd dropped, because she thought he was just scared of her and pleading for mercy. so her harshly judging kon for being in an abusive relationship, having recently escaped her own with lex luthor (in supergirl 1994), is in line with her characterization; in fact, it's entirely possible that she's so angry with kon here because it's the misplaced remnants of her anger at herself.

this is pretty much the last nail in the coffin for kon and mae's relationship. as long as mae is the more dominant personality in the linda-mae fusion (i.e. the first 50 issues of supergirl vol 4), she and kon don't really interact much anymore, and when they do it's without the warmth their relationship used to have (the "skyhog!" moment, hilarious as it is, comes to mind). HOWEVER, once mae and linda separate, and linda becomes supergirl, she has other opinions on it:

young justice (1998) #38

kon and linda have a much better relationship than kon and mae - this is the first time kon talks to her since her split from mae, and from there on, their interactions are pretty warm! linda gives him advice on how to patch up his friendship with robin after their fight on apokolips, and takes some inspiration from their conversation to patch up her bond with buzz, too. i won't get too far into linda & kon since that's not what you asked about and this is already a long post, but i do love them dearly 🥺

tl;dr my thoughts on kon and mae are mostly like, i think she saw herself in him in a lot of ways (the naivety, for one), but she didn't always like what she saw, and that put some significant strain on their relationship. there was love to be lost between them, like, in sb94 #28 kon even mentions they were just working together and helping free superman from false accusations, and mae is trying to reach him; she just doesn't go about it in the best way and it blows up in both of their faces, and her run establishes that she's got a proud streak and doesn't really like apologizing. so it's.... complicated! oof.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Hi, I saw some of your IDV smut line prompt

If you still taking request from that and write for Wu Chang, can you do ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ and ❛ i don't care if someone sees us. i need you, now. ❜

More specific for Fan Wujiu/Black Guard just being needyhorny for his S/O ( ╹▽╹ )

I did my best! I like the idea of Wu, Fan, and Xie being three different ppl

Rated: Explicit | Warning: Aphrodisiac

“I want you,” You jerk in surprise, so hyper-focused on decoding you had paid attention to your heart racing alerting you of the hunter's presence. “It hurts how badly I want you.” Wujiu, the black guard, is currently in control. He looks like a mess! You thought it was because of Naib kiting him for so long but he looks actually in pain. “You will help us.” Grabbing you and placing you over his shoulder. 

Wu Chang is the person they make, the souls within him are Xie Bi'an and Fan Wujiu. They are bound by the umbrella they carry, forever together but not able to see one another. During matches, the white guard and black guard are separate but whole, Wu's personality disappearing leaving the original two to hunt. It is very complex and you, the partner originally to only Wu, decided to just go with the flow.

In the manor, only Wu exists. He is a stoic man, very reserved. It took quite a bit of work to try to talk to let alone be in the current relationship you are in with him. Later, you met the pieces of the whole. Bi’an, the white guard, is the calm one who approached you post-match as Wu Chang was very eager to see you.

The eagerness one has when a loved one has been hurt. Your match with Ripper was scary, the map was new and London-based (Soho if you remember correctly). The fog everywhere, the dark alleys, all of it to his advantage. You barely escaped with another teammate.

Thank God that map was a one-time deal!

Wu grew worried and risked punishment crossing to the survivors’ portion of the manor to see you.

“Such love merits our meeting. You are his sun, his moon, the very earth he envies as it holds you up.” 

You… Well, you have never been described so highly.

As introductions are important, Bi'an greets you pleasantly as you are the object of Wu Chang's affection.

Later came Wujiu, well, he bared what he wanted from you very quickly.

You have been intimate with Wu Chang once, it was an emotional moment and intimacy was necessary. You love cuddling, love skin-on-skin contact, but sex never seemed on the table— Rather in other words: it scared you. The trust, the work, and then the fear if you mess up.

Lots of anxiety.

With Wu, it was nice, slow, and you felt at ease and content.

With Fan Wujiu, you discovered so much in two hours!

Being currently in the Chinatown map, he knows exactly where he is going to hide you and him until the ciphers are completed. His victory is already claimed as he chaired two of the survivors before grabbing you.

“I do not care who sees us,” The top floor with the mannequins, “I need you now.”

You nearly scream when literally pounces on you, something you are sure Bi'an will scold him about. You scare easily.

By the time the last cipher is popped (poor Weeping Clown), you are a mess and Wujiu does not seem any better.

“Please, we need– God, I physically can't!” How much more can this man give!?

“You can, you must.” And you do as you bite his shoulder to contain your voice. “Blame. That. Bug woman.” His thrust is erratic, clearly desperate, and you are getting more and more drunk off his cock.

You have no clue what that means but you can guess by the way he smells sweet and weird then her ability must have affected him.

Stay put. I'm coming.

Hunter has detection! Go, I'll take the dungeon.

“Wujiu…” Shit, you might pass out.

He squeezes you in his arms, “Stay awake.”

“Hmm,” Oh, you feel lightheaded. “Tíngzhǐ.”

And he listens, “You took me so well, little bird.” Praising you as he stops immediately, “Are you hurt?”

“Just dizzy. And hot. Fuck.”

“I can't give you the care necessary,” He wants to keep touching you, “My apologies.” You know he means that.

“Widow's peak. There.” You try to get your words out, “Later.” It is a spot where you meet Wu Chang often, a private neutral area.

“Of course.”

He gives you a moment before carrying you to the dungeon.

[wyvspike]

123 TMAGP (CAT#) Theory

So I haven't seen my theory about how the CAT# works on here so I'm not sure if anybody else has noticed this but I figured I should share! I'm pretty sure that whether a statement is labelled 1-2-3 defines what kind of content is paranormal in the episode.

EDIT: Spoilers below the cut

Here's my spreadsheet ordered by CAT# ("code" in the last column):

I noticed that when I put the statements in order of "code", the main focus of each episode had something in common. Looking at statements coded "1" I noticed that they all had to do with a person. Episode 6 -- Needles, Episode 10 and 12 -- Bonzo, and episode 1 "reanimation" was the zombie guy. Okay, so statements labelled with a 1 seem to have something to do with people.

Next set, the 2s. Episode 5 -- the cinema. Episode 7 -- Hilltop Centre. Episode 8 -- Pennine Tower. These episodes all have to do with place that are paranormal by nature.

Finally, the 3s: episode 2 -- a tattoo. Episode 4 -- the slaughter violin. Episode 9 -- bone dice. Episode 13 -- the app. These episodes all have an "artefact" of some kind, whether that be a physical object or something literally tattooed into someone's body, that doesn't seem to matter. It's some kind of thing or object.

Of course, as we've noticed, CAT#s have appeared as 1 / 2 / 3, but also as groups of numbers, such as 23 in episodes 1 and 11, and on the Klaus spreadsheet as 12 and 13. This indicates that statements with multiple types of paranormal presences can have multiple IDs. In the case of episode 1 "transformation," the Magnus Institute is the paranormal place, and the box might be the object. In episode 11, the graveyard and the tattoo are the two major appearances.

Here's my spreadsheet with who / where / what

I just thought it was cool! And the episodes seem to align with my theory the majority of the time (the only one i'm mildy uncertain about is episode 3, because that implies that the reason the guy turned into a tree was because of the place but it's been a while since i listened to that episode so maybe it makes sense lol).

[nymphie66]

God Bless America pt 3

Part One

Part Two

Description: Things are back on track between you and Ben, and you've found a sort of peace. Vought is determined to ruin that.

Author's note: This hyperfixation is really serving. This may be the last part of this mini-fic, as I've literally just been writing things as they've entered my mind and they just happen to be cohesive. But who knows! Uni starts up again imminently, hopefully I'll catch a break. Feel free to send in prompts or scenarios and I could probably bang something drabbley out. Also, thank you everyone for your support, I love each and every one of you motherfuckers.

Warnings: gore, darkfic -kinda, this came out slightly fluffy (don't know what happened there lol), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex, swearing, implied forced testing, cringey language

S/N : Supe Name

Suit: random office worker that I didn't bless with a name or description

---

You span in your desk chair in absolute boredom, hands on your swollen belly, the only modicum of joy you got was from the movements of your darling baby, only four more months to go now.

Which is why you were sat in said desk chair, in a Vought meeting room with a bunch of suits from HR and legal, negotiating over your maternity leave and, much to his horror, Ben's paternity leave.

He couldn't understand why he would have to take time off as well. As he put it "My part is done, I got my soldiers to your base, your turn to lead the charge." After saying such a thing he promptly had the nearest object in your vicinity thrown at him.

You tried to explain to him, that you would need help as the pregnancy progressed, that there could be complications leaving you bed-bound till it was time to push the little one out into the world, that you could even be hospitalised. You expected him to put his fingers in his ear and start singing the national anthem at you, desperate to drown you out, but what happened instead shocked you.

He stilled, and you could see the thoughts churning in his head, and gradually his brow furrowed and he turned away from you. You walked towards him, arms encircling his waist, face pressed against his back, the texture of his soft cotton jersey brushing against your cheek. You knew exactly what he was doing.

Ben cleared his throat and took a sharp inhale of breath. He couldn't show weakness in front of you, especially not now. It wasn't the manly- let alone fatherly- thing to do. But he felt that resolve weaken by the way you held him so tenderly, leaned into his back so softly. It reminded him of the earlier days in your relationship, when you trusted him so blindly, believed in him so faithfully.

He'd get home from work, usually in a pissy mood, ranting and raving about whatever fuckery his team had put him through. And you would be there, smile on your lips, eyes filled with joy just at the sight of him. You'd listen, never probe but when he was just winding himself up, you would circle your arms around his waist and press your face into his back, leaning on him for support. The action was simple but made him feel like he was your whole world, that he was all you needed, that he was enough.

Things were better now. Ben had followed your instruction to the morbid T, and in turn, you allowed his presence, tolerated it even, though you soon fell back into the trap of loving him wholeheartedly again. The way he doted on you, adored you, the way you were 'his girl' again.

It didn't mean that things were perfect - far from it. You still had the occasional shouting match that led to the replacement of many crushed/shattered mobile phones, and though you wouldn't admit it, your attachment to Ben had become positively possessive. If his gaze strayed from you for more than a minute, you could feel yourself freeze up, a blend of uncouth rage and desperation flooding you that was only sated when he looked back at you again. You were needy, and it was pathetic- to you, not to him, he found it hot as fuck and told you so.

Ben would press a hand to your lower back, hover smugly above your ear and whisper assurances to you, though they were less than PG. Often involving a detailed description of him fucking you in front of whoever you were jealous of. You blamed the pregnancy hormones, but every time he did it you wanted him to make good on his promises and you quickly escorted him to a (mostly) private section of wherever you were.

In fact, as you sat there, listening to the drone of legal and HR, you realised that you had been in this meeting room before. Though you could hardly blame yourself, you didn't really take in decor when you bent over the conference table, getting your brains fucked out. You cursed yourself for not making Ben read that pregnancy book earlier, ever since he found out making you cum was good for the baby, the man was on a mission - not that he wasn't before, but there was definitely an added level of determination that you appreciated.

"So it's agreed? S/N will start her maternity leave now and once she reaches her third trimester Soldier Boy will start his paternity leave." Your Vought legal representative consolidated. You tuned back into the conversation, hopeful that this meeting was finally coming to an end.

"Agreed, we have already arranged for the samples to be taken in the next half-hour if S/N is ready?" The other suit asked, casting you an expectant look. You froze, your hand gripping your bump and leaned forward, a panicked look directed to your rep, but before you could continue the suit continued. "May I remind S/N that it is in her signed contract that sample matter from a resulting pregnancy is legally Vought's to take. This includes amniotic fluid, blood and foetus tissue sample."

You felt your stomach lurch and you swallowed thickly, you didn't argue that it wasn't in your contract, it was exactly the type of sick and twisted clause Vought would stick in there.

"S/N?" Your legal rep asked, seemingly completely unbothered by what was going on. You didn't question if it was safe, nothing that Vought did was ever safe.

You surveyed the room, there was about eight people there, none of them particularly intimidating but that's not what you were worried about. They would have known you were going to show resistance and you now realised that the abundance of office workers was to merely lull you into a false sense of security. This meant one of three things. 1) There was a supe nearby ready to make you comply 2) One if not all of them had tranquillisers on them 3) all of the above.

Knowing Vought it was probably number three.

You could try and do a runner but you would get caught, you could try and fight them but that meant risking the baby. Whatever supe was going to show up would hardly care about your condition and who the fuck knew what Vought put in those tranquillisers.

Your eyes looked around the room, pretending to think about if you had any scheduled plans after this meeting. Your eyes settled on a wonky painting that had been hastily put back up- in fact, you had put that back up after it fell during your 'de-stressing session' with Ben.

Ben.

"Yes, I think that should be just fine." You smiled sweetly at them, "You wouldn't mind me calling my fiancé Be- Soldier Boy to let him know, would you? He likes to be included in anything related to the baby. Plus he would love to know that our little creation is helping advance the research at Vought. Anything for his country- you know him!"

You laughed and waved your hand, praying that they were convinced by your little show. They didn't know him, but it flew that Soldier Boy, the living and breathing embodiment of the good ol' red white and blue, would be behind such a thing. It was for his country after all.

"Great, that's just great. I'll call him now." You took the general shrugging from them as a go-ahead and quickly called Ben, mouthing 'busy man' to them with a big smile as it continued to ring, you were half afraid that he wasn't going to pick up until you heard his gruff voice on the end of the line.

"What baby? Can't even go to a meeting without-"

"-Ben, honey!" You smiled tensely as you cut him off his surely sordid sentence, and prayed that he could pick up on your forced cheeriness, from experience he should. Considering you only spoke in that tone to him when you were threatening to get rid of his baby or extreme violence. "I just wanted to let you know that Vought are going to collect some samples of our little star-spangled bugaboo. Amniotic fluid, blood, a bit of tissue matter, nothing our little super trooper can't handle, especially considering her old daddio! I was just hoping you would be able to join your darling doll at the doctor's, honeybuns."

You wanted to pull your own tongue out of your mouth, stuff it down your throat and throw it back up again.

"I will be right there."

And just like that the line dropped, you smiled, taking the phone away from your ear and holding it to your chest. You gave a thumbs up and chuckled nervously, "He's on his way!" You sat back down into your chair and exhaled, muttering the phrase to yourself again. "He's on his way.."

The time it took for Ben to get there was filled with awkward silence, interrupted only by the odd question from a curious suit about your pregnancy and the baby. Which was met with a vague and elusive answer. There was no way in hell you were going to give them any more information about it than what they already had.

Then finally, Ben appeared, bursting into the conference room decked out in his suit, hair dishevelled, panting ever so slightly, knuckles bruised. So you were right, there had been a supe nearby. He looked at you with a loving urgency and you stood up, one hand on your stomach as you nodded your head. You were okay, the both of you were, but more importantly, you were ready.

Ben landed the first hit and the HR manager's head rolled down the conference table like a bloody bowling ball. You struck next, your unhelpful rep ended up being useful for the first time in their life by acting as a human shield as you burst through their chest and clawed out the Head of Legal's throat. The others got out their tranqs - right again, but you unsheathed your forearm from your rep's chest and threw their body onto them, knocking them off their feet.

"Glad you got the message." You told him in relief as you crushed an approaching man's skull in your hand, blood decorating your face like gruesome confetti from a piñata. You quickly dropped him and continued walking towards your saviour.

"Well at first I thought you were trying something new-" Ben kicked another suit's chest in, smiling as he fell to the floor, there weren't many left now. "-but by daddio, I started to realise that something was wrong, darling doll and honeybuns was then just obvious"

"Oh so star-spangled-bugaboo and super trooper were fine, but you drew the line at daddio?" You laughed, hands on your hips as he finished the rest off. Happy that the threats had now been eliminated, Ben allowed himself to relax- slightly and turned to look at you.

You looked ravishing.

His little psycho.

Your hair was wild, no longer in the neat ponytail you had agonised over this morning. The blood that drenched your clothes hung to your curves perfectly, showed off your baby bump beautifully. The look light and love in your eyes? Intoxicating.

He quickly strove over and placed a firm hand on the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him. How could he have ever taken this- you- for granted. He would damn himself a hundred times and a hundred times more for it. You squeaked at the force behind his kiss but happily melted into it and for a brief moment you thought you were going to have reenact the last time the two of you had been there. If you ignored the background last time, you could ignore the blood, guts and gore that made it up now.

Unfortunately, Ben pulled away, pressing his forehead against your own. You whined and he smirked. "Sorry baby, but Butcher's waiting outside in the car, gotta get you and bugaboo out of here."

"That's not sticking!"

"It so is."

[koji-haru]

Time Travel AU Part: 20

Adam eyed the angel beside him, the early rays bouncing off his porcelain skin made him appear as if he were glowing, his deep blue eyes looking so soft under the gentle light. Though his mess of a hair, strands sticking out everywhere and slightly wet with saliva, by virtue of Amora’s playfulness, kind of ruined the image of a pristine angel. But Adam felt like his eyes were either broken or he must be wearing rose coloured glasses as he could only see sublimity in front of him no matter how many times he blinked to clear his vision. 

The two were eating a bowl of mixed fruits, made from a variety of berries, bananas and kiwis, chopped and sliced a little too evenly and perfectly by a certain someone. Michael was going to do some ‘cooking’ for Adam, as the human seemed to really enjoy the resulting product, but he remembered the last time he tried, Adam ended up doing most of the work, and that didn’t seem like a good way to start…this – the chance that Adam had finally given him. At least the first man seemed to like the quick breakfast he prepared; he had read somewhere from one of Uriel’s many scrolls that these fruits were good for the human body. Michael took a spoonful of the fruit mix into his mouth, its juices a sweet harmony that coated his tongue, leaving a satisfying feeling as he swallowed it down. He couldn’t believe he actually made something that tasted good on his own, well, he didn’t make it just simply prepared it, but still! He was quite proud of himself, especially when he noticed that the object of his affections seemed to enjoy the breakfast he made as well. 

“Wouldn’t Heaven be looking for you by now?,” Adam asked suddenly, while an odd kind of warmth did bloom in his chest to have literally woken up in front of an angel and having said angel stay with him throughout the morning, he was also curious as to how the ever so busy Michael found time to spend the entire evening and morning in Eden. Did they even know where he was?

“Hmm?” Michael turned to Adam, mouth busy chewing.

“I mean, this is the longest you’ve stayed in the garden,” Adam explained.

Michael finished chewing his food first before answering, pausing briefly to consider his thoughts. “They actually might be looking for me right now…”

“Eh, then shouldn’t you go back soon?”

“It’s alright,” Michael said with a smile. “I’m sure they can forgive my missing presence for a while longer. Besides, I did say I wanted to know who you truly are.”

Adam snorted, “That’ll be your number one regret in the future for sure.” The mask he had been so comfortably wearing during his entire time in Eden was essentially off, save for a certain secret. No more acting all sweet and innocent, he was just going to be himself, one that annoyed and pushed people away, that was who he really was. See if that wouldn’t scare Michael away. Though as the thought crossed Adam’s mind, a sense of both relief and anxiety pervaded throughout his entire being. Sure, he felt relieved not having to act so nice all the time anymore, but what if his actual personality would truly push Michael away from him? Then what? Maybe he shouldn’t have been so rash and acted on his feelings; maybe he should’ve just kept wearing the stupid mask on, that way he would at least still have a friend; maybe he should’ve just outright rejected Michael, that way he wouldn’t have to worry about stupid things like this–

“Don’t say that.” Michael placed his bowl down as he moved closer towards Adam. His gentle hands wrapped around Adam’s, giving it a soothing squeeze. “What’s wrong?,” he asked after noticing the wrinkles between the first man’s brows, the way his lips downturned into a small frown, his golden eyes flooded with unease. 

“N-nothing,” Adam replied as he pulled his hands away, keeping his eyes down towards the ground. This was pathetic. He felt pathetic. “Anyway, thanks for this,” he said as he held his own bowl of fruits up. “It was nice.”

Michael felt himself deflate a little bit at Adam’s deflection, but that was alright, he was patient. “No problem at all, I’m glad you like it,” he smiled. “Though actually, I was hoping if you could teach me more about ‘cooking’?” Learning about Adam wasn’t just through talking; how he liked to do certain things, what he did in his spare time, his favourite spots in the garden – all these were also other ways for Michael to know the first man much better, especially when the door was still open for him. 

Adam eyed Michael up and down, a certain kind of scrutinising look painted plainly on his features. It was a neutral but also quite critical kind of look, in a very judging way, somewhat similar to when the other angels found out that Michael had covered up some of his brother’s antics, though Adam’s was more on the petty side. It was odd, to be looked at like that by Adam, yet also refreshing as he was discovering new things about his human. 

“Hmmm,” Adam contemplated loudly, eyes squinting a little at Michael. The few times he had attempted to teach the angel told him that Michael absolutely had no skill nor talent for the craft, but then Michael only got to try a few times. Maybe he only needed to practise more. 

“Only if you want to, of course,” Michael added. 

“I guess I could teach you some more,” Adam shrugged. What was the harm, right?

There was plenty of harm. In fact, Michael himself was the danger. 

The two stared down at the small tree and the small area that surrounded it that Michael had somehow, by some sort of miracle, managed to set in a fiery blaze. Panicked wasn’t even enough to describe what Adam had felt when he saw the tree burning red with Michael inside the very flames. Thankfully, Michael was one sturdy angel, having left the incident one hundred percent unscathed, though the same couldn’t be said about the nearby plants. The smell of burnt wood wafted in the air as thick black smoke floated up to the skies as the charred remains of the tree barely remained standing in all its scorched glory. In fact, Adam was sure the inside of the tree was still burning slightly. Before, Adam was sure he was safe in the garden, but now Michael had reminded him how close death could be.

“I, uh.” Michael wasn’t even sure how everything happened. One moment he was trying to heat up the pan so he casted a small golden flame from his fingertips to set the ‘kindling’ alight, then the next moment he was engulfed in a large flame himself. Was it the oil? No, maybe it was grease. Had he spilled them and not noticed? Either way, Adam did tell him to be mindful of it, and he thought he was being careful, but maybe holy fire wasn’t a good combination with it. 

“I guess I’ll have to replace your pans and utensils…”

—-

“Okay, no more cooking for you,” Adam declared as they, yet again, have some more fruits and nuts to eat for lunch instead. “Like, ever.”

“Oh,” Michael’s shoulders slumped down, though he understood why Adam had banned him from cooking. It did get a little dangerous, at least for Adam and the garden. That meant he could only practise in places that could withstand some damage, like Heaven. 

Adam noticed Michael deflate, and while he planned on sticking to his rule of banning the angel from cooking, he did feel a little bad; Michael really did try after all, he just didn’t have the sense for it, at least for the time being. Adam sighed, maybe he could teach him about things that were a little easier to handle instead.

“Let me tell you about this new drink I made,” Adam suggested. “It’s made with dried leaves, flowers and fruits. I think you’ll like them.”

Michael perked up at the mention of learning something new, and getting to spend more time with Adam. “Oh? What is it called?”

Adam felt an odd little warmth bloom from within his chest at seeing Michael cheering up again, though he decided not to dwell too much on it. “I’m calling it ‘tea’. It’s a nice warm beverage that helps me calm down or sleep better sometimes,” he explained as he got up from his spot ready to head somewhere. “I’ve got some stocked, I’ll just go get them. Meanwhile, can you go gather some dry wood, twigs and leaves? I need to boil some water.” He had begun walking away already when he stopped abruptly, turning back to Michael. “Oh, and don’t you dare start the fire this time!,” he shouted before quickly making his way to get some of the dried tea he had made days prior. 

By the time Adam had arrived, Michael had gathered plenty of things to be used as kindling, collected some water to be boiled, and had everything set up and ready with no fire or anything burnt in sight. Michael sat on the ground, his back towards Adam as he patiently waited for the first man to come back. His flittered ever so slightly as he hummed a soft tune to himself; his was tilted slightly down as he seemed to be focusing on something else. Adam grinned to himself, a little mischievous thought crossing his mind. With slow, careful steps, he made his way towards the unsuspecting angel. Step by step, he got closer and closer, crouched and ready to pounce in three…two…one…

“Boo!,” he yelled out as he pounced onto Michael’s back, draping his arms around the angel’s neck. “What are you doing there?,” he asked as he peered at what Michael had in hand. “Oh, that kinda looks like m–”

“Aaah!” Michael quickly wrapped his wings around him covering what he had been doing. “N-nothing! Nothing at all!,” he said, a golden tinge quickly spreading on his cheeks. 

“Nono, I’m pretty sure I saw something,” Adam grinned as he tried to pry between the feathers and look inside the wings. But as soon as he did that, a soft ‘poofing’ sound was heard from beneath the wings, and when Michael finally opened them, there was nothing inside besides from the angel himself.

“See? Nothing at all!”

Adam got off Michael as he flopped down on the grass, a pout on his lips. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that right? The flush on your face is literally giving you away.”

Michael touched his face, and yeah, it was pretty warm. “It’s just a little something…It’s not done yet so–”

“Hey, hey, I was joking. You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to,” clarified Adam. He was nosy, but not THAT nosy. “Anyway!” He triumphantly waved three small pouches in front of Michael, a faint fragrant smell emanating from it. “I’ve got our tea, cups and a pot!” 

While Adam ensured that he was the one to start the fire and boil the water, he left the four kinds of tea he made with Michael to examine and smell. Apparently, all three little bags of dried plants made different kinds of drinks. Michael was actually quite excited to try them, each smelled so differently pleasant, some were quite sweet while others had a calming effect to them. Heaven didn’t really offer a lot of choices for angels to drink, they only really had water, angel wine, and certain fruit juices, and the fruit juices were a new addition when the garden was made. So this new warm drink made with dried plants was a completely new concept to him, and he was quite happy to be one the first to try it, especially since Adam had made it. 

“Okay, so which one do you want to try first?,” asked Adam as he made his way back to Michael. The water was simmering already, and he had even smaller pouches ready to be used as tea bags. “That one is made out of dried peaches, raspberries and rose petals; that one from the leaves of Camellia sinensis; and that one from dried apples and elderflower.”

“Can’t I try them all?,” asked Michael, he really did want to try all of it.

“You can, but just one at a time,” Adam replied. “So, which one are you most curious about?”

They all sounded very interesting to Michael, and it didn’t help that they all smelled so fragrant, but he couldn’t help but be a little more curious about the one made out of leaves instead of flowers and fruits; it also smelled differently from the other two, it smelled grassy while the other two were sweet. 

“Then, can I try this one first?,” he said as he handed Adam the pouch. 

“Ooh, green tea. Personally not the biggest fan of it, but they’re great after meals.” Adam took the pouch from Michael, transferring some of its contents into an even smaller pouch before letting it steep inside the pot filled with recently boiled water. “And now, we wait for a bit.”

“And we just leave it soaking like that?,” asked Michael, curiously eyeing the steeping tea. It seemed simple enough. 

“Yup, it adds flavour to the water,” Adam answered. “Though, green tea wouldn’t have too much of a flavour to begin with.”

Michael simply hummed in response, clearly fascinated by such a simple thing. Adam found it kind of funny. Here was an archangel who was literally made from the light of stars, and lived in Heaven, he had probably seen things humans couldn’t even begin to comprehend, and yet, a simple little thing such as making tea captivated him. It was…kind of adorable, if Adam had to be honest. 

A faint grassy scent wafted from the pot, signalling that the tea was ready to be served. 

“Oh, that means it’s ready,” said Adam as he got them their cups and poured the tea into them. 

“That was quick.” Michael looked at the hot drink served to him, he could see why Adam decided to call it ‘green tea’; the liquid was of a faint green colour and it really did smell quite grassy. He pulled the cup closer to him, the mild steam passing by his face before taking a sip. 

“Ah wait! That’s very hot–,” Adam tried to reach out for Michael’s cup but was a little too late. 

“Hmm?” Michael looked up from his cup, still taking a sip of the tea. It tasted quite bittersweet, earthy and a little grassy, a mixture of flavours he never had before. He quite liked it. 

“Nevermind,” sighed Adam. He almost forgot, this was the same guy who didn’t realise he was on fire until Adam had to call out for him. Heaven borns really are freaky. “So, do you like it?,” he asked.

Michael put down his cup, still savouring the new taste on his tongue for a few more seconds before answering. “It’s odd, but I like it a lot. Can I have more?,” he asked, handing his cup over to Adam. 

“Yeah, sure sure.” Adam poured some tea into his cup. “I’m surprised you like it that much.” He took a sip of his tea before pulling it away, tongue sticking out as disgusted look appeared on his face. “Ugh, yeah, still hate it.”

“Really? Then why did you make so much in the first place?,” asked Michael while pointing at the pouch filled with dried green tea leaves. 

“There’s only so much I can do in the garden, and when I get bored, I like to get a little experimental and do things excessively,” Adam answered. “I actually have so much more stashed away. You can take the entire pouch if you want, since you like it that much.”

Michael visibly beamed up at Adam’s offer. “Can I really?”

“Yeah, go ahead, I don’t want them anyway,” Adam waved off, happy to finally have some use for the excess he made. 

As Michael took the pouch and put it inside the pocket of his robes, he felt an odd sensation in his halo as it glowed bright. Adam knew what that meant, but decided to keep his mouth shut, that was the one thing he wasn’t willing to divulge yet. 

“Something wrong?,” he decided to ask instead. 

“Oh, they’re really looking for me now in Heaven…,” answered Michael a little quietly. 

Just from the tone of his voice, Adam could tell that Michael didn’t particularly want to go back yet, and he couldn’t blame him. Heaven for all its splendour was boring as shit when you’re not a simple winner; always stacking more work onto everyone who had at least a  somewhat important role. He couldn’t even imagine how much work the poor guy had to do. Then a sudden thought crossed his mind. 

“Oh, that’s too bad. We still have the other two to try,” said Adam, shaking the pouches of tea. “I personally prefer these ones. Quite sweet, really nice.”

“Um, well…” It was almost evening, Michael was almost away from Heaven for almost a full day cycle. He really should be getting back.

“It’s quite nice to share a drink with someone.” Adam gave Michael a little sad smile, his eyes casting down, looking a little tearful. “It’s kind of sad to enjoy it alone, as I've been doing until now.”

Michael knew he really should head back to Heaven, but then he couldn’t just leave Adam alone like that, could he? Plus, he really did want to try those two other teas. His personal wants wrestled with his sense of duty, tackling each other in his mind, constantly going back and forth with both having good arguments against the other. But in the end, only one ended up victorious. Well, Michael liked to think he thought hard and carefully about his decision, but as soon as Adam gave him that sad, pitiful look, it was quite obvious to him what he was going to do. 

“Well, I guess they can wait a little longer,” he yielded, really it wasn’t even a fight. 

Adam grinned to himself. Oh how he missed getting others in trouble with him, or well, in this case he should be free from any repercussions. He was after all just a human. He made a quick silent prayer for Michael for when he finally does go back to Heaven, knowing how scary an angry Sera could be. But for the time being, he was just going to enjoy their cute little tea time.

Part 19

Part 21