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mephisto-reporting · 8 days ago

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Jealousy, Jealousy with Sylus

Plot: Reader becomes jealous of Sylus and MC's closeness, distancing herself and seeking comfort in another LI. Sylus notices her growing distance and takes action. Based on this request. Pairing: Sylus x Non MC reader Content Warning: Insecurities, injuries, mention of blood, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort Note: Reader is not the MC of the game. I think I got quite carried away writing this because I am a sucker for angst.

The faint hum of the air condition echoed through the Onychinus base, its opulent, luxurious atmosphere doing little to distract from the knot twisting in your stomach. You stood across from Luke and Kieran, their crow masks tilted slightly as if to gauge your reaction.

"Boss isn't here today," Luke said casually, his hands tucked into his pockets. "He’s in Linkon, Boss man’s got other things to handle."

Kieran, his mask tilted slightly to the side, gave a confused grunt. "But I thought he was meeting with her...?"

Luke raised a brow, correcting him. "No, no, he was meeting with Miss Hunter."

Miss Hunter.

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, even though they shouldn’t have. You were a hunter too, an informant who had been feeding Sylus critical intel on the association’s movements for two years now. But she was different. Special.

Captain Jenna’s star pupil, with her rare Anhaunsen-class Resonance Evol, was someone Sylus had spent weeks trying to connect with, both literally and emotionally. You weren’t blind to the necessity of it; resonating with her was crucial for his goals, ones he hadn’t entirely shared with you but that you trusted him to pursue.

Trusted him. Loved him.

You forced a tight smile. "Thanks for the update. I'll let you two get back to it."

Luke and Kieran exchanged a glance, but you were already walking away, the echo of your boots swallowed by the hum of the base.

The ride back to Linkon was supposed to clear your mind. It didn’t.

The cool wind whipped against your face, but all it did was sting the tears pooling in your eyes. The road stretched endlessly ahead, yet the pressure in your chest only grew. Sylus hadn’t seen you in two months. Two months of unanswered calls and messages reduced to half-hearted responses when they came at all.

You understood why he was focused on her. She was crucial to his plans. She was everything you weren’t: poised, pretty, powerful, and, most importantly, someone he needed.

But understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

The world blurred around you as your thoughts spiraled. You had always known your place in Sylus’ life. You were the informant, the quiet insider who helped him stay two steps ahead of the hunters. Somewhere along the way, though, you had fallen for him. For the man who wasn’t as cold and calculated as others believed. It had been two long years since you started working with Sylus. Two years filled with secrecy, lies, and hidden truths. But over those years, you'd found yourself tangled in emotions for him that you couldn’t shake. Sylus, with his cold authority, his dangerous smile, his complex nature… He was all you could think about. He wasn’t as dismissive as people thought. He had a way of looking at you when no one was watching—a fleeting softness that you cherished, even if you couldn’t be certain if it was real.

And now, it felt like you were losing him.

Your bike screeched to a halt near Meow’s Café. You hadn’t planned to stop, but the sight of the familiar storefront tugged at you. Perhaps a coffee and a moment to breathe would help.

The glass windows glinted under the midday sun, and your breath hitched as you looked inside.

Sylus was there. With her.

They sat at a small table, a deck of Kitty cards spread between them. He was leaning back, his smirk in full display as she laughed at something he said. It was the kind of laugh that reached her eyes, the kind of moment you had only ever dreamed of sharing with him.

You froze, your hands tightening on your helmet.

For a fleeting second, you wanted to march inside and demand answers. To ask him why he had time to play cards but couldn’t return your calls. To tell him how his absence had hollowed you out.

But you didn’t.

He looks so happy... you thought bitterly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The truth gnawed at you. Every interaction, every ignored message, every unread notification on your phone—it was because of her. Because Sylus had more important things to do. She was the one who mattered now. She was the one who he had to resonate with, had to bond with, had to make fall for him.

And you? You were just a pawn, a tool—forgotten. And there you were. Alone. Watching through a window, the warmth of the cafe contrasting the cold, empty feeling in your stomach. He hadn’t even bothered to let you know he was back. He was with her. You couldn’t bear to watch any longer, but you couldn’t look away either. It felt like the world was spinning faster than you could catch up, and you were left stranded, dizzy, and abandoned.

Instead, you turned away, your chest tight and vision blurred. The world felt suffocating, the weight of your unspoken feelings dragging you down as you climbed back onto your bike.

It was for the best, right?

You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep waiting for him, couldn’t keep fooling yourself that there was something real between you two. He was busy. He had her. And you.. well, you didn’t even know why you bothered anymore.

The ride back to your apartment was a blur of taillights and muffled engine noise. The city’s glow that usually brought you some sense of comfort felt glaring and alien tonight. By the time you made it inside, the suffocating silence of your small space was overwhelming.

For someone who prided herself on being strong and independent, you barely made it to your couch before the sobs overtook you. Hot, angry tears streamed down your face as you clutched a pillow to your chest, trying in vain to keep your cries muffled. It felt as though something within you had been ripped apart, leaving an aching, hollow void that throbbed with every thought of him.

You replayed the image of him at the café in your mind, over and over, as if some part of you wanted to punish yourself further. His smirk. Her laughter. The ease of their interaction. It contrasted so sharply with the heaviness that now weighed on your heart.

Every chime of your phone made you flinch, hope briefly sparking to life, only to be cruelly snuffed out when the screen lit up with messages from others—work updates, pointless notifications, or friends checking in. Nothing from him. Of course, there wouldn’t be.

You wiped at your face, your chest tightening as you scrolled through the last few conversations you’d had with Sylus. They were short, clipped responses. A "thanks" here, an "I’m busy" there. You’d convinced yourself for weeks that he wasn’t brushing you off, that his focus was just elsewhere. But deep down, you knew. You’d always known.

You weren’t as important to him as he was to you.

That realization settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and final. And yet, you tried to convince yourself it was okay. He doesn’t owe me anything, you told yourself, though the thought only twisted the knife deeper. He’s free to choose who he spends his time with.

But it didn’t stop the tears.

The days that followed were a haze of exhaustion and numbness. You threw yourself into your work, spending long hours tracking and confronting wanderers. The physical exhaustion helped, even if just a little. At least when you were in the middle of a fight, the pain in your chest was drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Still, the nights were the worst. Alone in your apartment, the quiet crept in like a suffocating fog. You tried to distract yourself—reading, cleaning, even organizing old mission reports. Anything to keep your mind from drifting back to him. But it was impossible.

Each time you saw his name in your contacts, you hesitated. Your thumb hovered over the call button more times than you cared to admit, but the fear of hearing his indifferent voice stopped you every time. What would you even say? That you missed him? That you wanted to see him? That you’d fallen for him, even though you knew it would never be mutual?

No. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

You worked harder, pushed yourself further. Every wanderer you fought became a stand-in for your frustrations, your insecurities. You told yourself that if you could just stay busy enough, the ache would go away. But no matter how many missions you completed or how many late nights you spent staring at your phone, the weight in your chest never fully lifted.

By the end of the week, you were exhausted—physically and emotionally. But you were surviving. Barely. The bell above the door jingled softly as you pushed into the chocolatier’s shop, the rich scent of cocoa and vanilla wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The day had been grueling—hours of chasing leads, a narrow escape from a particularly aggressive wanderer, and not a single bite of food since morning. Your stomach growled in protest, a sharp reminder that you’d been running on fumes for too long.

Rows of meticulously crafted chocolates gleamed beneath the glass counter, their perfect swirls and shimmering finishes almost too beautiful to eat. Almost. You leaned forward slightly, scanning the display, your reflection ghosting over the pristine surface.

Dark chocolate truffles. Raspberry ganache. Caramel hazelnut clusters. The options were overwhelming, and your indecision felt heavier than it should’ve. Your chest still ached from the lingering emotions you’d been suppressing all week. The quiet joy of the shop felt alien, like stepping into a world you no longer belonged to.

Just pick something and go, you thought, your fingers tightening on the strap of your bag. But the choices seemed endless, each one whispering promises of sweetness you weren’t sure you deserved.

"If you’re struggling," a soft, measured voice spoke behind you, "the pistachio crème chocolate is an excellent choice."

Startled, you turned, your gaze falling on a man standing a few steps away. Tall and lean, he exuded an understated confidence that was both intimidating and captivating. Dark hair fell in against his forehead, and sharp hazel-green eyes, softened by gold flecks peered at you from behind thin-framed glasses. His white doctor’s coat was open, revealing a simple black shirt beneath, and he held a small paper bag in one hand.

You blinked, caught off guard by both his suggestion and his presence. "Oh, uh… thank you," you stammered, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. "I’ll… I’ll try that."

The shopkeeper nodded and carefully packed your selection as you stole another glance at the stranger. There was an air of calm authority about him, a quiet assurance that made you feel oddly exposed, like he could see straight through you.

He waited patiently as the shopkeeper handed you your bag, but just as you were about to leave, his voice cut through the quiet again—this time, more direct. "Chocolates shouldn’t be your first meal of the day."

The statement was delivered without malice, his tone stoic and matter-of-fact, yet it hit like a stone to the chest. Your lips parted in shock, the question forming before you could stop it: How does he know? But before you could say anything, he was already moving toward the door. The bells jingled softly as it closed behind him, leaving you standing frozen in place. The stranger’s words lingered, intertwining with the rest of your messy emotions. Your fingers clenched the small bag of chocolates as you tried to process the brief encounter.

A soft gleam on the floor caught your attention, breaking your spiraling thoughts. A wallet, its sleek leather worn but well-kept, lay just inches from where the man had stood. You knelt and picked it up, your heart thudding as you opened it to check for identification.

The name embossed on his hospital ID was like a jolt: Dr. Zayne. Your eyes widened. Doctor Zayne? The name was familiar—a renowned surgeon whose skills and precision were legendary, often described as a miracle worker. You’d imagined someone older, more weathered, not… this.

For a moment, you stared at the ID, piecing together the puzzle of the composed, enigmatic man who had called you out so effortlessly. You tried the number listed on a card tucked into his wallet, but it rang unanswered, the sterile monotone only adding to your frustration.

"Of course, he wouldn’t answer," you muttered under your breath, chewing your lip as you debated your next move. The idea of keeping his wallet overnight felt wrong, and leaving it here in the shop seemed equally careless.

That left one option.

The hospital loomed ahead as you approached, its towering structure illuminated against the evening sky. Anxiety gnawed at your insides, twisting with every step you took through the sterile white halls. You weren’t sure why you felt so on edge—maybe it was the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that had been haunting you lately, or maybe it was the lingering impression of Zayne’s knowing gaze.

At the reception desk, you hesitated, gripping the wallet tightly as you cleared your throat. "Hi, um, I’m here to return something for Dr. Zayne. He… accidentally dropped this."

The receptionist barely looked up, taking the wallet with a polite but indifferent smile. "Dr. Zayne isn’t in right now. I’ll make sure he gets this when he’s back."

"Oh," You nodded, murmuring a quick thanks before retreating back toward the exit. You thought nothing of this interaction as you left. You did what you thought was right and left the hospital back towards your apartment.

The days blurred together in a haze of work and routine. You buried yourself in assignments from the Hunter’s Association, throwing yourself into dangerous missions with a single-minded intensity. Anything to keep your mind occupied.

Sylus messaged you once during that time, his tone professional as he asked for updates regarding a lead he was tracking. You’d responded quickly, sticking strictly to business. No pleasantries, no banter—just the information he needed. He didn’t press, didn’t call you out for your uncharacteristic coldness. Maybe he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and chose not to say anything.

That night, you jogged through the dimly lit streets, your breath fogging in the cool air as you tried to exorcise the restless energy gnawing at you. The rhythmic slap of your sneakers against the pavement was grounding, steady. Jogging had always been your go-to, a way to clear your head and silence the endless stream of "what-ifs" and "if-onlys" that plagued your mind.

You shook your head, annoyed at yourself. There was no point in dwelling. Sylus wasn’t the kind of person to give you what you wanted, and even if he did, could you trust it? Could you trust him?

But no amount of movement could completely shake Sylus from your thoughts.

His voice, his presence—it clung to you, even now.

Why didn’t he ask how I’ve been? Why didn’t I?

The sound of skidding tires yanked you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Look out!”

Before you could process the warning, a cyclist veered wildly toward you, their momentum too strong to stop. There wasn’t even time to brace yourself. The impact hit like a freight train, and suddenly, you were on the ground, tangled with the bike and its rider. Pain blossomed sharp and hot in your knees as the asphalt scraped them raw.

For a moment, you just lay there, stunned. The world tilted unsteadily, the city lights smearing together like a watercolor painting.

“Hey, you okay?” The cyclist’s voice snapped you back. They were scrambling off you, helmet slightly askew but otherwise unscathed. You shook your head to clear it, wincing as you sat up. You pushed yourself up, shaking the dizziness from your head, and checked on the cyclist who had crashed into you. They were already scrambling to their feet, looking slightly dazed but otherwise unharmed, their helmet and guards having done their job.

“I’m fine,” you managed, even as your knees throbbed in protest. “Are you?”

“Yeah, thanks to the gear,” they said, pulling off their helmet to inspect a small crack along its surface. “Guess it did its job.”

Relief washed over you. “Good. Let me just—”

“Wait.” A different voice cut in, firm but calm. You stood there, still trying to regain your bearings when a figure appeared beside you, moving with a grace that immediately caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was. Dr. Zayne. The same man who had crossed your path in the chocolatier's shop just days ago. His sharp eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, everything else seemed to vanish. His expression shifted from mild surprise to something more concerned as he took in your state.

Without saying a word, he immediately began assessing you, his gaze narrowing at the blood now staining your knees. You winced, feeling the sting of the cuts that had begun to bloom with a fiery intensity, but you were determined not to show it. You were used to pain—used to the sharp discomfort that came with being a hunter. You didn’t need help. You could handle this on your own. You’d always been able to.

But Dr. Zayne wasn’t having any of it.

His voice, low and steady, broke through the haze of your thoughts. "You’re bleeding. Those need first aid," he said firmly, his frown deepening as he glanced at your scraped knees. "Sit. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him you were fine, but the words caught in your throat. He wasn’t asking. His tone, though gentle, was authoritative—demanding in its own quiet way. There was something about the way he carried himself, that calm, unflinching presence, that made it impossible to argue.

"I’m fine, I am a hunter." you managed to say, your voice rougher than you intended. "I can handle it at home. Really." You tried to force a reassuring smile

“Is this a hunter thing?” he interrupted, one brow arching skeptically. “Are all of you this stubborn about basic care, or is it just you?”

The words should have been biting, but his tone was almost... patient. Like he was accustomed to dealing with difficult people.

You flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of the sting in your knees and the heat of his gaze. “I’m not being stubborn,” you muttered. “I just don’t want to bother anyone over something so small.”

“Small injuries have a way of turning into bigger problems,” he said, folding his arms. “And I’m not bothered. As a doctor, I’m asking you to wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Without waiting for your protest, he turned and strode off, leaving you no room to argue.

You sat stiffly on the bench, gripping the edge as the minutes dragged on. The ache in your knees was nothing compared to the gnawing discomfort blooming in your chest. Anxiety clawed at you, whispering insidious doubts.

He’s wasting his time on you.He probably thinks you’re pathetic and weak.Why couldn’t you have just gotten up and left?

Your fingers curled into fists, the tension radiating through your body.

The sound of footsteps interrupted your spiraling thoughts, and Dr. Zayne was back, carrying a small first aid kit. He knelt in front of you without a word, his hands steady as he cleaned the cuts on your knees. The gentle pressure of his fingers as he worked felt almost surreal. His silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just… calm. You found yourself drawn to it, to the quiet that seemed to settle around him.

"You’re lucky," he said, glancing up at you as he bandaged your knees. "That could’ve been a lot worse."

You nodded, the words caught in your throat. There were so many things you wanted to say, things you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know where to start. So you remained silent, watching as he finished his work, his hands moving with the practiced precision of someone who had seen too many injuries to count.

When he was done, he straightened up and met your gaze. "You should be more careful," he said softly, his voice a little lighter than before, though there was still a note of concern underlying his words. "Next time, don’t run so late at night. You never know what could happen."

You forced a tight smile, the words feeling like they were coming from someone else. "I’ll keep that in mind," you said, your voice quieter now.

Dr. Zayne took a step back after finishing the bandages, his sharp gaze softening ever so slightly as he packed the first aid kit. You glanced at him, your mouth opening to thank him, but before you could get the words out, he said, almost in unison, “Thank you.”

Both of you froze, the simultaneous expressions of gratitude hanging awkwardly in the air. A surprised laugh slipped out of you, breaking the tension.

“You first,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “I was just going to say thank you for… you know, helping with this.” You gestured vaguely toward your knees, the bandages clinging to your skin. “You didn’t have to.”

The moment stretched between you, awkward yet somehow comforting. Zayne gave a small, almost amused smile at the simultaneous gratitude, but his gaze softened when it landed on you, his concern still present.

"Thank you for returning my wallet," he said, his tone steady but with a hint of appreciation.

His words caught you off guard. “Oh, right! That. It wasn’t a big deal, really.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, avoiding his gaze. “I found it at the chocolatier shop. I figured it was better to bring it to the hospital than leave it lying around.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “I appreciate it. Not many people would go out of their way like that.”

You tried not to let his kindness throw you off, but it wasn’t easy. There was something about Zayne that made you feel... small in a way you didn’t like to feel. He was kind, yes, but that kindness made you wonder if you were deserving of it. Why should you be the one he cared about?

But before you could dwell on that any further, his voice cut through your swirling thoughts.

"Have you eaten today?" His tone was light, but there was an edge of sincerity beneath it, one that made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. It reminded you of that conversation in the shop, of how he had so effortlessly read through your tiredness.

The sheepish look that crossed your face must’ve been obvious, because Zayne sighed, the sound so deep that it almost felt like a reprimand. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was both familiar and surprisingly endearing.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself,” he said, his voice almost too gentle for the weight of his words. “It’s not healthy to go without food, especially if you’re going to keep running around like you hunters do.��

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but Zayne didn’t give you the chance.

"There’s a diner close by. It’s the least I can do to thank you for returning my wallet."

You shook your head instinctively, trying to backpedal. "It’s really not necessary," you said, but Zayne wasn’t having any of it. His eyes were firm, and there was an undeniable warmth behind them that almost made you feel guilty for refusing.

"Yes, it is," he replied, his tone steady but with a hint of finality. "Now, come on.”

You hesitated for a moment, the unease building in your chest like a brick wall, but the thought of Zayne’s calm, commanding presence made it impossible to say no. So, with a quiet sigh, you relented.

"I’ll pay," you muttered as he led the way, the words almost reflexive. You always felt like you had to pay your way—like it was your responsibility to do so, especially with someone who had helped you, even in the smallest of ways. You were used to standing on your own two feet.

Zayne only gave you a side glance, his lips quirking up in the barest of smiles. "No, you won’t. It’s my thank you, remember?"

The diner wasn’t far from where you had been, a cozy, low-lit place with a soft hum of quiet conversations and the clink of silverware against plates. The familiar scent of warm food—steak, mashed potatoes, and the unmistakable aroma of fresh bread—immediately filled the air as you stepped inside. You followed Zayne to a small booth in the back, the vinyl seats creaking under your weight as you slid in.

You wanted to say something—thank you, maybe—but the words felt stuck, trapped somewhere in the pit of your stomach, along with everything else that had been piling up for weeks. Zayne didn’t seem to notice, his focus already turning to the menu as he gestured for you to pick something.

You wanted to ask him more, to understand him in the same way you understood the empty streets you ran through, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just end up looking foolish. So, instead, you stared at the menu in front of you, unable to focus on the choices, as your mind churned with questions that had no answers.

Zayne ordered for both of you, his voice low as he made his choices, and when he looked at you, you caught a flicker of something—perhaps curiosity, or was it concern? It was hard to tell.

"You should eat more regularly," he said again, as though the words were a reminder he had to repeat for his own peace of mind. You nodded, letting the silence fill the space between you for a moment.

The food arrived, warm and satisfying, and you took a bite, surprised at how hungry you were despite the earlier denials. Zayne watched you for a moment, his gaze softening as you ate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. His concern, his care—it felt too much. You weren’t used to people worrying about you.

But as the meal went on, you found yourself starting to relax, the initial tension loosening from your shoulders. Zayne was easy to talk to, his calm, steady presence settling you in a way you hadn’t expected. By the end of the meal, you felt... lighter.

"Call me Zayne," he said when the check came, his voice quiet but sincere.

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the request. "Zayne?" you echoed, testing the name on your tongue.

"Yes," he replied with a small, patient smile. "It’s easier than 'Dr. Zayne,' don’t you think?"

You blinked, taken aback. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve earned the title—”

“And I’ll still have it in the hospital,” he interrupted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But here, it’s just Zayne.”

You nodded slowly, testing the name in your mind. It felt strange, almost too personal. But there was something grounding about it, too.

By the time dessert arrived, the knot of anxiety in your chest had loosened considerably. The warmth of the diner, the steady cadence of his voice, and the shared laughter over a poorly made joke had a way of pulling you out of your own head. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you weren’t obsessing over your failures or doubts.

As you finished your meal, Zayne pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. “Here,” he said simply. “Add your number. In case you ever need anything.”

You hesitated, the gesture feeling far more intimate than it probably was. But his expression was patient, expectant, and you found yourself entering your contact information before you could overthink it. When you handed the phone back, his lips twitched into a faint smile.

“Thanks again for returning my wallet,” he said, his tone lighter now. “And for the company.”

You felt your cheeks flush, but this time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “It’s not a problem,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

As you stepped out of the diner and into the cool night air, a strange sense of calm settled over you. Zayne walked you to the corner where your paths would diverge, his presence steady and reassuring.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate.

“You too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The diner’s warmth lingered even as you stepped into the cool night air. For the first time in what felt like weeks, your chest didn’t feel as tight, the oppressive weight that had been bearing down on you now lifting slightly. You still felt the ache of Sylus’ absence—a hollow, gnawing sensation that seemed to creep in whenever you let your guard down, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been. Instead, a new sensation fluttered in its place, tentative and fragile: excitement. It was strange to feel this way, to look forward to the possibility of a friendship formed under such unlikely circumstances. Zayne’s calm demeanor, his steady presence, had surprised you.

As you walked, the sound of fluttering wings caught your attention. Instinctively, your heart skipped, your mind jumping to Mephisto. You tilted your head to the dark sky, half-expecting to see the telltale silhouette of his familiar. But it was just a cluster of pigeons, their wings catching the faint glow of the streetlights as they soared away.

Right. Of course. It was unlikely that Sylus was watching you tonight.

You exhaled, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and forced your thoughts away from him. Zayne had offered you a rare moment of normalcy, and you weren’t about to let your memories of Sylus overshadow that.

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The following weeks were a blur of activity, and before long, you found yourself stationed at an outpost on the outskirts of Linkon. A metaflux surge had disrupted the area, and the temporary makeshift hospital was bustling with injured workers, hunters, and even a few civilians caught in the chaos. The air was thick with tension, the metallic tang of metaflux faint but persistent, a reminder of the unseen dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of the encampment.

Zayne was assigned as the doctor for the outpost, and you often found yourself crossing paths with him. At first, your interactions were brief—a nod here, a shared glance there—but over time, you began to talk. It started with simple pleasantries, discussions about the metaflux readings or the influx of patients, but it wasn’t long before the conversations deepened.

You learned that Zayne had a dry sense of humor, his sharp wit often catching you off guard. He’d tease you about your stubbornness, and you’d retort with a quip about his overly serious nature. Despite his professionalism, there was a warmth to him, a quiet compassion that made him easy to trust. And though you’d never admit it, you found yourself looking forward to those moments of shared laughter, those fleeting glimpses of something lighter amidst the chaos.

But even as your friendship with Zayne grew, Sylus lingered at the edges of your thoughts, a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. The conversations you had with him were sparse and strictly work-related—updates from the Association, bits of intel you passed along to him. It felt transactional, a far cry from the intimacy you once shared. Yet, every time his name appeared on your screen, your heart still raced, betraying the fragile boundaries you’d tried to set.

One evening, a message from Sylus broke the monotony of your routine.

‘Come over tomorrow night, Darling. I have an exquisite wine I’d like you to try—procured it during a recent deal.’

The invitation was simple, almost casual. For a moment, you imagined it—the rich scent of wine filling the air, his sharp yet alluring gaze fixed on you as he poured you a glass. But reality quickly crept in, dragging you back to the present. You couldn’t go. You couldn’t risk it. Not when your heart was still so fragile, still aching in ways you didn’t want to admit.

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as your mind raced. The truth was, you wanted to see him. But you knew better. You had to keep your distance—for your own sake, if nothing else.

‘I’m tired..'

You typed, the words feeling hollow as they formed.

'Busy day tomorrow. Maybe another time.’

You hesitated before hitting send, the weight of the message pressing down on you. When his reply came, it was as simple as his invitation.

‘Okay.’

The finality of it hit you like a brick, and for a moment, you felt like your breath had been stolen away. He didn’t push. He didn’t argue. That empty “okay” hung in the air, leaving you with the quiet realization that, once again, you had lost yourself in the haze of someone else’s world.

You tried not to read too much into it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had already moved on. That he didn’t care enough to fight for your attention. Instead, it felt like you were just a passing thought, like an aftertaste that wasn’t worth savoring.

Miss Hunter. The words echoed in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears to stay behind your eyelids, but they pressed hard, a sting that never seemed to fully fade. You rubbed your forehead, trying to push away the thoughts. But even as you did, you couldn’t escape the suffocating feeling in your chest—the one that always came when you were reminded of how little you meant to him. You felt foolish, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to come back, to pull you back into his orbit with that practiced charm, that voice that made you feel wanted, if only for a little while.

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The dinner with Zayne had been a welcome reprieve. It had been two weeks since you last saw him, the demands of work pulling both of you in different directions. But tonight, seated across from him in a small, cozy bistro, you found solace in the familiar rhythm of your conversations. The mellow lights softened the sharp angles of his face as he recounted a mishap earlier in the week involving a particularly irritable patient.

His dry humor, paired with the subtle lift of his brow, drew a laugh from you—a genuine, light sound that felt foreign after the weight of recent days. For a while, the world outside blurred away. You weren’t Miss Hunter; you weren’t anything other than a person sharing a meal with a friend.

As the meal wound down, Zayne looked at you over the rim of his glass, his expression calm. “You’re doing better than when we first met.” he remarked softly.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Am I?”

He nodded. His calm demeanor always had a way of grounding you, and tonight was no exception.

The meal wrapped up with the two of you trading small updates and light banter. You paid for your half of the meal, Zayne insisting it wasn’t necessary, but you’d insisted back. There was a sense of normalcy here, something you weren’t willing to let go of easily. When you parted ways outside the diner, the night air was cool and quiet. Zayne’s warm farewell echoed softly in your ears as you waved goodbye and headed back toward your apartment.

As you walked, you felt lighter somehow. The stress of the past few weeks hadn’t vanished, but Zayne’s steady presence had reminded you of something important—moments of peace still existed, even in the chaos.

The faint scent of lavender greeted you as you unlocked your apartment door, a hint of the candle you’d left burning earlier. The lights were off, and the air felt too still—unnaturally so. Your heart skipped, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. A lump formed in your throat, panic curling its fingers around your chest.

You flicked the light switch, and the sudden brightness flooded the room, revealing the figure sitting on your couch. Sylus.

You froze. Your body stiffened, caught between fight or flight.

Your yelp of surprise filled the space, your pulse racing as you clutched the doorframe for support. “What—Sylus? What are you doing here?”

He was sitting on your couch, one arm draped casually along the backrest, his other hand resting on his knee. The dim light of the room softened the sharp edges of his face, but his expression was anything but gentle. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, tracked your every movement as if he were dissecting you with just a glance.

“How—what are you doing here?” you stammered, your voice shaky as your pulse raced.

Sylus didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze dragging over you slowly, deliberately. His silence was louder than any words he could have spoken, and it made your skin prickle.

“Darling,” he finally murmured, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “You look… exhausted.”

You blinked, still standing frozen by the door. His tone was soft, almost tender, but it was the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers tapped against his knee, that betrayed his underlying tension.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your voice wavering as you took a cautious step forward. “It’s been a long day. What are you doing here?”

Sylus leaned back, the leather of the couch creaking faintly under his weight. “A long day,” he echoed, his lips curving into a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yet you had time for dinner.”

“I…” you faltered, scrambling for a response. “It was just…”

“Just dinner,” he interrupted smoothly, his tone unreadable. “With… someone else.”

The air felt thick, charged with a tension that made your skin prickle. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still calm but his body language telling a different story. The way his fingers drummed against his knee, the slight clench of his jaw, the flicker of something dark in his gaze.

Your heart pounded, your thoughts racing. Why was he here? What did he want? And why did his presence—his very existence in your space—make your chest ache in that familiar, suffocating way?

“I didn’t think…” You stopped yourself, your voice trembling. “You didn’t say you’d be coming by. You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft as he rose from the couch, his movements fluid and deliberate. “Show up to see what’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his height and presence suddenly overwhelming. “Nothing’s wrong…”you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that so?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, his eyes boring into yours. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’ve been avoiding me, Darling.”

The accusation hung in the air, sharp and unyielding.

“I’ve been busy…” you said weakly, your voice lacking conviction.

“Busy,” he repeated, his gaze flicking over you again, this time with something close to disdain. “Too busy for me, but not too busy for… him.”

Your hands fidgeted at your sides, your breath coming in shallow bursts. You wanted to move, to put distance between you, but your legs felt rooted to the spot. “I didn’t think dinner with a friend would..”

“Friend?” he interrupted, the single word slicing through your sentence. His lips curved into something that might have been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, the anxiety swirling in your chest mixing with something else—something raw and painful that you didn’t want to name. The memories of your last exchange with Sylus came flooding back—the curt messages, the unspoken finality of his “okay.” You had tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you didn’t need his validation. But standing here now, under the weight of his gaze, you felt every crack in the fragile walls you had built to keep him out.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” you said finally, the words trembling as they left your lips.

His eyes softened slightly, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, something important, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gesture so gentle it felt almost foreign.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability that made your chest ache.

Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you. The words echoed in your mind, repeating, twisting, until all you could hear was the raw edge of betrayal laced in his tone.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and bitter, a little too loud in the quiet of your apartment. Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you felt the space around you grow smaller. You couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. All you could feel was the heat of anger building inside of you, raw and unrefined.

“That’s rich,” you scoffed, finally managing to find your voice. “That’s really rich, coming from you of all people.”

Sylus blinked, a subtle flash of surprise crossing his face, but it quickly masked over. His lips tightened, his brow furrowed ever so slightly, but it wasn’t enough. You had to push, you couldn’t hold back now. The words were tumbling out before you could even stop them. Your breath hitched, a strangled sob lodged somewhere in the back of your throat, but you refused to let it spill. You wouldn’t let him see you break—not like this, not in front of him. You knew the truth. He knew the truth. It hurt, yes, but you weren’t the one to blame.

“You've been treating me like a stranger for months,” you continued, your voice trembling with anger you hadn't fully realized was there. “Barely responding to my messages, not answering my calls, and when I do see you, it’s like you can’t be bothered. You don’t even see me.” You felt the weight of every unreturned message, every unanswered call, every promise left in limbo. “I’ve had to hear from Luke and Kieran that you’re in Linkon. But you couldn’t even make time to see me.”

You felt the ache deep in your chest, that familiar, suffocating knot forming. He didn’t deserve your pain. Not anymore. You wouldn’t let him have that. Not this time.

You took a shaky breath, suddenly feeling raw, exposed. “You don’t have to feel obligated to check on me, Sylus,” you said, your words clipped and cutting through the thick silence between you. “You don’t have to feel pity for me. I know where I stand. I know my place in your life.”

His expression, that unreadable mask, cracked for the briefest of moments. His lips parted, his gaze flicking to your face, then back down to the floor. His jaw clenched. But his eyes… They weren’t the same as they’d been earlier. The hardness was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, something even more intimate. The storm was gathering, but it wasn’t just in the air—no, it was inside him too.

“You know where you stand?” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, a slight tightness you hadn’t noticed before. He took a step forward, his body closing the space between you, like a wave of raw energy crashing toward you. His proximity only made your pulse race faster, but you couldn’t back down. Not now.

“I’m just an informant, right?” you bit out, every word feeling like it sliced through the night air, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You don’t have to pretend you care, Sylus. So don’t stand there with that look on your face like I’m some important thing you need to check on.”

The air between you grew heavy, thick with unsaid words and stifled tension. Every inch of your body was telling you to get away, to shut down, to stop this before it tore you apart. But your feet felt heavy, stuck in place. Sylus’s presence was like gravity, pulling you toward him.

"You think that's all you are?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low, like the calm before the thunder. The way he said it made your heart stutter in your chest. It was both a question and an accusation or a challenge.

But there was something else in his voice. Something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were intense, too intense, and they searched yours like he was looking for the answer. The truth.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he continued, his words clipped, as though they were difficult for him to say. “But I couldn’t....couldn’t make sense of it. Of you.”

It was the first time that he seemed genuinely vulnerable, and it left you breathless and confused. You had always wondered if there was more beneath his cold exterior. You had always told yourself that he cared. But you had never dared to confront him.

His hand was close enough now to reach out, his fingers barely brushing the edge of your wrist. The air between you was still thick with everything unsaid, everything unhealed. And yet, despite the words that had been thrown between you, there was something undeniably magnetic in the tension. The ache in your chest, the rawness, the feelings of betrayal—they didn’t wash away just because you said them out loud.

God, you hated him for this.

But part of you yearned for him. That part that still felt tethered to him, despite the distance.

Sylus’s fingers hovered over your wrist, his touch like fire against your skin. For a moment, the storm between you calmed, leaving only the faintest echo of it behind. The weight of his gaze, the force of his presence—it seemed to drown out the rest of the world.

He said nothing for a moment, his lips parting as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. His eyes darkened further, not with anger now, but with something you couldn’t quite define.

You took a breath, your body suddenly feeling too small beneath his gaze. The storm was still inside. You had to move away. Your heart pounded as if it were trying to escape your chest, desperate to flee from whatever was stirring inside you. You couldn't—no, you wouldn’t—let yourself get caught up in whatever this feeling was. You were not some fool, ready to throw everything away for the temporary pull of his presence. You knew better than that. You had to.

Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to put some distance between you and the mess of emotions bubbling under your skin. His sharp gaze was enough to make your knees tremble, and it took everything in you not to look back, not to let him see the quiet devastation that flickered inside you.

“You need to leave… Sylus.” You whispered. You staggered back a few steps, your breathing shallow, desperate. Your feet felt like lead, yet you forced yourself to walk away. You turned your back to him, willing your legs to move, hoping to escape before you got sucked into whatever dark vortex of feelings he was drawing you into.

He didn’t move. Instead, you heard the familiar click of his boots against the floor as he took a single, deliberate step forward. “Why?” His voice, low and curious, sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost too intimate, as if he were searching for a piece of you, trying to understand what you couldn’t explain.

You didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see the quiet confusion on his face—the faint flicker of disappointment that stung like salt in an open wound. You couldn’t let him see your weakness, couldn’t let him know how badly it hurt to be around him, how badly it hurt not to be around him.

“Is it so you can run back to your precious ‘friend’?” The words dripped with something unspoken, something that made your stomach twist.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Not when his voice—that voice, the one that threaded through the air like silk—was digging into your mind like this. The word echoed in your ears, almost mocking you, and you felt something fragile snap inside you. The weight of the years you’d spent keeping distance, of guarding your heart against him, against whatever he made you feel, started to unravel. But you couldn’t let it.

You took another step away from him. One more step, you told yourself. Just one more. You didn’t need this.

Dark tendrils wrapped around you as you move, pulling you back. He was using his evol to pull you back. You didn’t need him pulling you in again. But then it came. That touch. He pulled you to him, forceful yet intimate, and your breath caught in your throat. You were too close. Too close to the edge of losing yourself, of falling into his presence.

His hands...no, his fingers—snaked around your waist before you even knew what was happening. You gasped, body going stiff in surprise, but his grip tightened, pulling you back into him. You tried to keep moving, tried to pull away, but it was useless. His hold was ironclad, his presence consuming. His grip tightened slightly, but there was an almost comforting pressure there, a subtle reminder that despite the dispute between you, there was something undeniable between the two of you.

“Why are you running?” His voice was a whisper against your ear, the words smooth like silk, but there was something jagged beneath them—something urgent, raw.

You struggled to hold yourself together, but the more you fought it, the more it pulled—this unbearable need to lean into him, to give in to the chaos that his proximity stirred in you. You knew you shouldn’t, but everything in you wanted to. You felt the ache of wanting something you couldn't have, the sting of the distance you had put between you and the thing that was somehow both poison and relief.

His hands tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your ribs in a movement that sent a jolt through your entire system. The words you wanted to say, the reasons you needed to get away from him, all felt so small and pointless now. How could you possibly explain this? This tension, this pull? How could you say that being near him felt like the most excruciating thing in the world, but also the only thing that made you feel alive?

“You’re not just an informant to me,” he breathed, his words slipping under your skin, curling into the tight spaces of your chest. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you this much. That you’d want to distance yourself from me...” His tone softened at the end, but it only made everything worse. The tenderness in his voice—his tenderness—was like a dagger in your side, making the blood in your veins freeze. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could hear was the deafening rush of your own heartbeat. You tried to stay composed, but the words were caught in your throat, and your body was still pressed so tightly against his, your breath shallow, your pulse thudding painfully against your ribs.

Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t you just say it—say that you couldn’t let him get close again? That you couldn’t survive another wound, another aching, empty feeling in your chest because of him? But the way his hands tightened, the warmth of his body against yours, made everything you were feeling a little too real.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, the rhythm in sync with your own, and the pull of him was growing stronger. You could feel your anxiety bubbling up, the gnawing fear at the pit of your stomach. Was this just him toying with you? Was he trying to pull you into his world of darkness and manipulation? Or did he really care?

Your head was spinning. The emotions warred within you—anger, confusion, guilt, and something else. Something that made your heart race faster and your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

“Let me go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm that raged around you.

But you didn’t pull away. You didn’t push him off.

Sylus' grip on you tightened, his arm like a steel band around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His chest rises and falls against your back as his breath brushes against your ear, warm and heavy. It’s as if he’s afraid, like if he lets go for even a second, he’ll lose you forever. You can feel the tension radiating from him, but also something softer, something desperate.

“No, Darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with emotion, his tone possessive, as though the very idea of you slipping away shatters him. “You’re not going anywhere and neither am I.”

"You’re going to stay," He pulls you even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks again, quieter this time, but laced with something raw and vulnerable. "...and you’re going to listen to me. I won’t let you walk away from this."

You can hear the flicker of something beneath his words—regret. And then, his lips ghost over the sensitive skin of your neck, lingering just a little longer than necessary. He slowly spins you around, to face him. His voice softens, almost apologetic. “I know I was a dick. I know I didn’t respond to you, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to handle it… handle us. It confused me, and instead of facing it, I pushed you away.” His breath catches slightly, and you feel his chest tighten against your back.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your face slightly toward him, his thumb brushing over your skin as though it’s a promise, an apology. The weight of his gaze is intense, but there’s also something tender there, something that wants to pull you back in, closer. “I know you’re still hurting, darling. I see it. And I... I’ll spend a lifetime making up for it, because that’s what I want. A lifetime. With you. Not as some informant or some... thing, but as my beloved. You. By my side. Always.”

He pauses, letting his words hang in the air between you. His voice drops, the quiet sorrow of his confession sending a twinge of guilt through you. "I don’t have the right to ask this of you, I know," Sylus continues, his voice thick with emotion. "But seeing you push me away… It’s harder than I ever thought it would be. Harder than I want to admit." He presses his forehead lightly against your temple, his breath shaky. "I’ve never needed someone the way I need you, and I didn’t know how to tell you that. But I do. I need you."

You can feel him tense slightly, the shift in his demeanor telling you that his thoughts have turned darker. His voice lowers, the jealousy evident in the way he speaks, though it’s wrapped in a softness that almost makes it harder to bear.

"And Dr. Zayne... I can’t stand the thought of him being so close to you," Sylus adds, his voice low and thick with a possessiveness that unsettles you in its intensity. "It kills me, you know? Watching him with you, hearing you laugh like that with him, as if I don’t even exist." His arm tightens again, almost painfully, as if he needs to remind you, remind both of you, where you truly belong. "I know I have no claim on you... but... I can't help but feel like there’s a part of you that wants him in a way that... I can't compete with." His voice hardens, jealousy dripping from every word. "It eats at me, knowing he has a part of you that I’m fighting for."

"Sylus..." Your voice cracked slightly as you repeated his name, your breath hitching, caught in the tension between you. His name felt heavy on your tongue, like it was both a question and an answer. You had never said it so quietly, so vulnerably. The memories of earlier came rushing back—him with her, that delicate smile he gave her, the way she leaned into him just a little too comfortably. It had burned in your chest, the jealousy creeping in with a venomous ache.

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, too fast to gather, too painful to hide. "I felt the same... when I saw you with her," you confessed, swallowing thickly. "I felt so... so useless, Sylus. When I saw you with her, it felt like... like she was everything you needed. Better than me. And that... it broke me, Sylus. I felt like I wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t... worth it.”

The words stung, bitter and unrelenting, but the weight of them was finally lifted as you let them spill out. You felt exposed, naked in your insecurity, but somehow, it was all you could do to stand there and wait for him to respond. You could feel the weight of it, of how small you’d felt in that moment, how unworthy you had become in your own eyes. The self-doubt gnawed at your insides, each thought of her with him twisting like a knife in your gut.

Sylus’s expression softened, his features melting into a tender sadness, as though he were seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you. His hand reached out slowly, almost hesitantly, as if afraid to shatter the fragile space between you. His touch was a gentle comfort, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his voice a low whisper, "Darling, you're none of that... none of it, I swear."

You shook your head, feeling the tears threatening, but you couldn’t let them fall, not yet. His words were kind, but the ache in your chest was still there, an unhealed wound.

He continued, his voice steady but thick with something deeper. "I didn’t know you felt that way... about her, in the same way I feel about Zayne." His gaze met yours, and for the first time tonight, it wasn’t uncertain. It was so gentle, so soft, tender. "But you need to know, you're it for me, Darling…" he murmured, his fingers curling around yours, grounding you in the quiet storm of your emotions. "Yes, I want help from her, but..." He paused, as if weighing his words carefully, "...I need you more." His words were a balm to the wounds that had festered within you, but the tenderness in his eyes was what finally reached you. His hand slid down to your shoulder, his thumb grazing the skin there. His warmth surrounded you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of his words. The jealousy, the insecurity that had burned so fiercely in you when you saw him with her, melted in the face of the tenderness he was offering now.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself as your heart raced, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming. “Zayne… Zayne’s just a friend,” you said, your voice fragile but firm, “someone who helped me... helped me see past the stuff in my head. After everything, I just... needed someone to remind me that I’m not broken.”

Sylus's eyes softened even more, the depth of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. He nodded slowly, his expression filled with understanding. The tension between you didn’t disappear entirely, but it was now laced with something more tender. More real.

“You’re not broken, Darling.” he repeated, and there was a quiet strength in his voice, something that made you believe him more than you ever had before. “You’re everything I’ve ever needed... and more.”

"I... I’m sorry," you whispered, a lump in your throat as you looked up at him. "I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t care. I just... I was afraid you’d choose her over me."

Sylus’s fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "You never have to apologize for that, Darling." he murmured, his voice warm, his breath mingling with yours. “It was my fault and I accept that.”

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of your breathing, as Sylus stood before you, his face drawn with intensity. The flickering light from the lamp cast soft shadows across his features, but his gaze... his gaze was sharp, focused entirely on you.

"I love you, Darling" he said, his words lingering in the air as though they were the first time he had allowed himself to say them out loud. "I’m in love with you," he confessed, his voice steady despite the raw emotion that tinged it. "I’ve been in love with you for a while now, and I’ve tried to deny it. Tried to hide it from you and myself, but I can’t anymore. I won’t. I love you, and I need you to know that."

The breath you hadn’t realized you were holding caught in your throat. Everything in you froze, then splintered. The confession, so pure, so vulnerable, hit you with a force you hadn’t been prepared for. You stood there, unable to move, a mix of surprise and relief flooding your chest.

He loves you. Sylus. The one you had longed for, yearned, and hoped for in silence. Your heart stuttered in your chest, the world around you growing impossibly still.

"I…" you whispered, voice trembling, and you had to stop, had to steady yourself before the words could spill from your lips. "I’ve love you too," you said, your voice barely more than a breath, but it carried all the weight of everything you had kept inside. "I’ve loved you, and I never told you because I was afraid. Afraid that I was asking too much. Afraid of the rejection. Afraid that I wasn’t enough."

Sylus’s expression softened, his lips curling into a frown as he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His hands reached for you, but not in the way you had feared or expected. They were gentle, his touch a plea for understanding. "Oh, darling," he whispered, shaking his head slowly. "I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you ever felt like you needed to hide it from me."

He reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek, and you flinched slightly, your emotions suddenly overwhelming you, raw and untamed. "We’re both idiots," he continued, his voice almost tender with the weight of the admission. "We’ve been skirting around each other, afraid of saying the one thing we both needed to say."

Your laugh came out soft, almost fragile, the tension in your chest breaking for the first time since Sylus had walked into your home. It was a quiet sound, but it was the first time you’d laughed all night, the first time you’d allowed yourself to feel something other than fear or uncertainty in the past few weeks with him involved. But that laugh didn’t last long. As soon as it came, the tears followed, the ones you had been holding back for so long, finally slipping free. The dam you had built up crumbled, and before you could stop them, hot tears streamed down your face. before you could even reach up to brush them away, his hand was there, steady and warm against your cheek.

"Don’t," you whispered, your voice thick with the ache you could no longer hide. "Please, don’t look at me like this. I’m—"

"Stop," Sylus interrupted softly, his hand holding yours gently, his gaze unwavering. "Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you… everything you’ve been hiding. I know you think I don’t see it, but I do." His eyes locked onto yours with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. "I see it when you think I’m not watching. I see the way you pull back, the way you hide the parts of you that you think I can’t handle. But I am looking. I’ve always been looking. And I don’t want you to hide anymore. Not from me. And I’m here and I want all of you."

His words were a medicine to the parts of you that had been bruised, the parts that had feared being exposed, vulnerable. But in his eyes, there was only love. No judgment. No pity. Just... love. And it was enough. It was more than enough.

The tears that had slipped down your face slowed, but they didn’t stop. You didn’t try to wipe them away this time, allowing yourself to be seen for the first time in ages. The sobs that followed were soft but trembled with relief, with something finally breaking open inside of you.

Sylus’s arms were around you in an instant, pulling you close, holding you in the kind of embrace that made you feel as though you could finally breathe, as though the weight of everything you had been carrying could finally be set down.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, almost broken. "I’ve been so scared, Sylus. Scared of this, of being cast away... of losing you."

"You’ll never lose me, Darling." he murmured, his voice firm and unwavering as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You tilted your head back slightly, your face still damp with the remnants of the tears that had fallen, and through your wet lashes, you searched his face. Sylus held you close, his arms wrapped around you in a way that made you feel safe, even as the doubts lingered in your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, buried deep beneath the surface.

He must have seen it in your eyes, the way you still hesitated, the uncertainty you couldn't quite shake. Sylus made a half-frustrated sound in the back of his throat, his hands tightening around you for a split second, before they slid up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, a tender, pleading touch, before he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a sudden, urgent kiss.

The kiss was unlike any other. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t soft. It was intense, filled with desperation, as though he needed you to understand just how deeply he felt for you, just how much you meant to him. His hands cupped your face, holding you as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment, as if the world had stopped turning just for you. His lips pressed against yours with a kind of fire, but it wasn’t angry, no. It was passionate, desperate in its own way, like he wanted you to feel how important you were to him, how much you had been wanted, loved.

Your hands trembled as they reached up, gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting to bridge the distance between you, as though the kiss itself could erase every lingering doubt in your heart. Your breath hitched when you felt his pulse quicken under your touch, his heartbeat matching the frantic pace of your own. Each breath you took seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, mingling with the heat of his kiss, our lips moving together with a quiet urgency, the world beyond the two of you fading into a distant blur. You felt everything—every brush of his fingers, every subtle shift of his body against yours, the way his chest rose and fell beneath your palms, how his breath felt against your lips as if he couldn’t get close enough to you.

Your chests rose and fell together, the world spinning around you. You could feel the heat of him, the urgency that still lingered in his touch, the way he kept you close, almost as if he were afraid to let go.

Breathing became an afterthought, both of you gasping for air when the kiss broke, but neither of you pulled far enough away to lose the connection. Sylus’s forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispered, voice still heavy with emotion. “Every day, from henceforth, I will work to make sure you never feel the need to doubt yourself. Not in my life. Not with me." His words, slow and deliberate, sank deep into your heart like a promise he would keep.

The intensity of the moment hung between you both, the room still, save for the soft sound of your breathing as you both slowly came back to reality. But in his eyes, you saw nothing but certainty—certainty that you were enough. That you always had been.

His hand found yours again, fingers weaving with yours, and he gave it a gentle squeeze, as if the simple touch was a quiet reassurance.

"You are everything to me," he murmured, his voice steady now, grounding you as much as his embrace. "And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing his words, his warmth, his certainty. In his arms, you could feel the truth of his promise, somewhere deep inside, the doubts began to fade.

For the first time in a long time, you believed him. And when he kissed you again, this time softer, it was like the beginning of something new.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

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flokali · 1 year ago

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♢ I love you, I own you | Tartaglia

warnings: yandere, dub-con, penetration, coming inside, unprotected, undertones of misogyny, toxic parents, manipulation and gaslighting, obsessive, paranoid, and possessive behavior, toxic mindset, coerced submission, getting walked into, bribing, murder, torture, self-doubt and insecurities (mc), arranged marriage, implied financial insecurity, implied virginity (mc & childe), spoilers for tartaglia’s story/lore, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unreliable narration (at times). ask to tag.

pairing: afab! fem! reader (bottom) x childe (top)

word count: 13.3k

a/n: ahhh; hopefully this is good >_< i love him so much… after almost a year, ‘tis done ^_^

part two: here

— 18+

Childe is horrified and incredibly angered, if not down right homicidal, when he finds out your parents planned to have you engaged to a no-name Fatui henchman, it’s only a further blow to his already weakened heart when the news don’t come from you nor your family but from the loud mouths of your “soon to be fiancé” and his goons. His blue eyes widen and he feels himself grow lightheaded, his stomach feels like it’s turning itself inside out and, oh Celestia, he thinks he’s going to puke.

While perhaps not the most befitting behavior for a Harbinger, Ajax couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he had first heard the mention of your name and while he’s extremely glad he did, - he’s silently thanking the Tsaritsa for telling him now so he could do something - he almost wishes he didn’t as he’s now forced to go back to his office and wordlessly deal with the intrusive thoughts racing through his head.

All he can think about are the countless pinky promises you’d both made to each other during your childhood, the coos of both of your parents when they had first heard him declare his love for you, the feeling of your hands against his when you kissed his cheek goodbye before the fateful day he stumbled down the abyss, the way you and only you were the sole thing keeping him together during his time there, the way you sobbed in relief when he first approached you after emerging victorious from hell itself; did those moments mean nothing? Had only he been impacted by them? Had you forgotten his love for you - your love for him?

No, he thought as he marched to his desk, there’s no way - you had to have felt it too, you must have kept those memories deep in your heart as did he. You both were meant to be, childhood sweethearts, one soul in two different bodies, created from the same stars and carved out from the same earth, put into the same world to meet and love each other from your first life to the last. You were his and he was yours, you were one and the same, you were lovers - it was written in the stars and in his very flesh, it was a fact as true as his love for you.

His breathing is ragged and he can’t contain his shaking body, he never should have trusted your parents - they obviously didn’t have your best interest in mind, if they cared about you at all they would have never promised your hand to another, they would’ve realized he, Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax, he was the best man for you.

Granted, they hadn’t heard from good little Ajax for years, not ever since he’d left for the Fatui - he only ever kept consistent correspondence with you and his family - but that’s no excuse, there was no excuse for their actions, they were disgusting pests that were blinded by greed. How much money had they taken to accept such a disgusting agreement? 500,000 Mora? No, that was too cheap… 1,000,000? 2,000,000? More? Maybe it was in the tens of millions, there was no way you were being given away for less, right?

“Ahhh,” the ginger sank in his chair, his trembling hands finding his hair and pulling at the soft strands in frustration, “what do I do now? What should I do? What should I do? Shit… this can’t be happening.”

He wanted to cry and destroy everything. Destroy that man, no… that poor, pathetic excuse of a man that had dared try and stake his claim on you. This wasn’t your fault, there was no way you knew – never once in your letters had you mentioned a lover nor a wedding, you would have told him - would have begged for him to save you - if you did know you must have cried and begged for them to not marry you to that bastard, sobbed as you muttered his - Ajax’s - name like a mantra, begging to be taken by him and finally wed to the true love of your life.

It felt like the world was falling and crushing him alive.

How could they do this to you? How dare they do this to you? To him, to you, to the both of you.

He could just have the man killed, sent on a suicide mission disguised as an essential step for gnosis hunting - maybe even under the pretense of a promotion, he was sure he’d accept anything, he was a no name soldier that would probably be forgotten by the next round of recruitment -, and make your parents go bankrupt, burn their house and have their businesses fail before delivering the final blow of jailing them due to fraud or maybe even executed under claims of treason; the thoughts calmed his rapid heart, if only slightly.

They needed to be taught a lesson, they shouldn’t put their dirty, greedy hands where they didn’t belong.

But no, that’d be too light of a punishment, and there would be so many loose threads - he’d rather be on good terms with your family - if only for you -, could it maybe be a misunderstanding? It could be, right? They were like family to him once, after all, and a part of him hates the idea of them having grown so vile and corrupted, they were supposed to be his in-laws and he’d rather his children have both sets of grandparents. Not to mention, you’d be so sad to see them gone, even if there was a chance they were worth nothing more than dirt.

No, that wouldn’t do, his wife couldn’t be sad - he’d confront them as soon as physically possible, question their actions and propose a better arrangement, and depending on their answer they would become the Fatui’s latest show of loyalty to the Tsaritsa or officially join the perfect future he’d dreamed of with you.

Yes, that’s what he’d do, his shaking heart finally comes to a rest as he begins to plan his trip. If things went south he could easily have his initial plan executed quickly, and while he doesn’t particularly like the idea of having to plan their execution arrangements, justice wasn’t always pleasant.

It’d be alright, surely all of this could be resolved through a mature, adult conversation. And if not, then Childe wasn’t a Harbinger for naught.

It takes him a few days until he’s able to find the time to meet up with your parents, though, honestly, it’s more like barging into your home unannounced and demanding answers. He has a job - a serious job, after all, one that demands his presence and takes true effort and work, unlike that shitty excuse of meat your parents wanted you to marry - and he had matters to attend to – after all forging evidence for a possible execution isn’t easy and he wants to be prepared, it was one of the few times where he wanted to come in with a proper battle plan.

He had it all planned out if things went south, a few reports here, some testimonies there, a lengthy transcript or two, a handful of bank reports, and soon your parents would look like traitors to the crown and be sentenced to public execution.

All he had to do was confront them in person. He wasn’t sure if your parents would be home, he hoped so as to not prolong such a troublesome process any longer, but he was willing to wait. He was getting his answers today, one way or another; he’d free you from this horrid arrangement and whisk you away to give you the life you truly deserved.

Luckily for him, you live in the same neighborhood as you always had, so no time had to be wasted searching for your family’s whereabouts. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to come back to his childhood neighborhood and he can’t help the giddiness in his heart as he strolls through memory lane while making his way down the streets you two shared a childhood in, it looked almost the same - a few differences here and there like a new house or someone’s place having been renovated, but it felt just like home. His parents had long since moved houses into a fancier side of the city, the money Childe managed to bring home as a Harbinger long since allowing them the luxuries that had once felt impossible, but he almost wishes they hadn’t as he spots your family’s humble abode, his heart longing back to the days of your shared youth.

It’s a two story house, built with strong wood made to resist Snezhnaya’s harshest winters and the cold summers, the roof was made of strong wood and designed so that snow would fall as to not sink, the front yard still held the swing you’d begged your parents for on your tenth birthday, the mailbox was still slightly crooked from the time he had head-butted it when racing you back from the park, the flowerbed still held the same flowers and plants that were able to withstand Snezhnaya’s harsh weather, the tree somehow still seemed to harbor the countless balls you two had gotten stuck there back when you were in your preteens; it was like it had been frozen in time, the only true difference he could spot was your older figure sitting on the front steps looking as if you were waiting for something, maybe someone; maybe him.

His heart stops as do his steps, he’d been so busy the last couple of years he hadn’t been able to pay you a visit in person, he’d had a few soldiers patrol the area before, but nothing could prepare Ajax for the surge of emotions that coursed through his body as he laid eyes on you.

Your body was taller and you had grown into your features, but you were still you - your eyes still shined with the hope and love he’d long since lost while your lips were still as tempting as he remembered. There was no doubt it was you, he’d recognize you anywhere; no matter how much you changed. But you looked sad, your lips downcast, your eyes filled with tears, and your frame hunched over, it was clear you were cold by the shaking of your frame but you didn’t falter - still sitting down with a flimsy blanket wrapped around you as you waited.

The scene made him pick up his pace, he was desperate to reach your side; what had happened? Why did you look so sad? Were you hurt? His men had not informed him of anything happening that would explain the crystal like tears that pooled in your eyes, just the sight was enough to have his blood boiling and fists shaking as he wondered who was responsible for the pain you so openly displayed.

Have you found out about Andrei and your parents’ sins? The thought of them being the reason for your sorrow made him grow dizzy with rage, but the negative feelings can only last so long as he has you in his sights. Your mere presence seemed to lull his emotional heart into a more tranquil state.

“[Y/N]?” Childe asked, he was only a few feet away from you but he didn’t dare walk closer, “Is that you?”

“A-Ajax?” Your eyes widened, hope evident in your voice and it’s like all traces of the previous pain in your face had vanished, “Oh, Ajax!”

You hesitate for a second before breaking into a smile when you realize it really was him. It almost looks like you want to burst into tears and he’s sure he probably doesn’t look any better, seeing you in the flesh after so long felt like a dream and as if every moment without you until now had been but a nightmare, he can’t help himself from running towards you and throwing himself into your arms. He looks older, definitely more mature, his is build stronger now - probably due to the fighting and training he endured as a Harbinger, you thought - but his smile was still the same, perhaps a bit empty but it still filled your heart with a warmth that could battle Snezhnaya’s unforgiving cold. It felt right to have him back in your arms as if time had never been cruel and taken him away from you, you could have sweared your worries disappeared the moment you took in his warmth.

His white coat floats through the air as he lands between your arms, and you can feel his smile in your chest as he hugs you tight.

He was finally home, he thought, in your arms and back in the neighborhood that had raised him - he was with you and that was all that mattered, the man was filled with so much ecstasy he could almost forget why he’d come here.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, your voice is shaky and the ginger feels himself melt at the familiar tone of your voice.

“I should be asking you that,” he laughs, his eyebrows becoming furrowed in concern as he speaks, “it’s freezing, darling, you shouldn’t be outside.”

“I… I was waiting for one of your letters,” you whisper shyly, during your time away from each other - weekly letters had been your primary source of communication, something you’d learn to love and cherish as one of the few forms of contact you and Childe could have without your parents knowing his dangerous job and position.

“You’re so cute,” he coos, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders as he realizes you were safe, if anything he feels ashamed he hadn’t been able to send you anything and caused you such pain, his heart aches as he tries to wrap around his head he may have hurt your feelings, his gloved fingers find your cheek and squeezes it tightly, “however, it’s too cold for you to be outside with just a blanket, my love.”

“I know,” you shake your head, you go to lift a hand to wipe the stray tears that had escaped you but Childe takes care of it for you as he delicately caressed your face, “it’s just, I hadn’t heard from you in almost two weeks and I got worried, I thought… maybe something had happened in Liyue and you’d gotten hurt.”

“O-oh… I’m sorry,” his deep blue eyes look downcast as he processes your words, “I never meant to worry you, I had so much to do and to say that instead of a letter I decided to come meet you in person, i-isn’t that better, love? I simply couldn’t be away from you any longer, it’s my fault, though, I should have told you so earlier, ahh… I can’t believe I’ve made my angel cry.”

A poor soldier would have their head cut off tonight, he thought, for he was certain he’d sent a bag full of letters meant to last you at least a full season to be delivered everyday to you while he arranged for this mess to be solved.

You nod as stars fill your eyes before shaking your head as if assuring him you were alright. You loved Ajax and you had loved him for almost all your life, from the moment you met him you’d been charmed by his boyish good looks and charisma, of course a few things had changed, but he was still your sweet Ajax, the boy who’d stolen your heart and kept it safely within his arms for as long as you’ve known him.

“Come on,” you signal him to stand up with a soft pat and the man has to stop himself from begging for more of your touch, “let’s go inside, you must be tired and we have so much to talk about.” He nods and lets himself be pulled up by you as you giggle and smile about finally being able to talk face to face after years of not being able to physically see each other.

You feel like a teenager again as you lead Ajax into your house, your heart beating like you were confessing your love for the first time - the excitement was practically the same, your head felt fuzzy from the warm feeling holding Childe’s hand gave you; you had missed him terribly. You feel like you were about to explode into a million piece from excitement, your head filled with everything you’ve ever wanted to say to Ajax’s face ever since he left, all the news that felt too important to simply write out and that had you hoping a day like this would finally come, you’re scared of coming off too intensely but your heart truly feels like it’ll burst from joy, unfortunately your excitement comes to an abrupt end when you finally drag him into your living room. You turn around to offer him a drink or something to eat, the trip from the capital all the way over here was a couple hours long and he’d always had quite an appetite, but you’re faced with a look of disappointment and slight anger as he looks around the room, your heart sinks - just seconds ago he was all smiles and laughter as you two embraced each other in the harsh winter, having created a warm paradise between each other, but now he looked as if he couldn’t stand to be in your house and you wonder if maybe you’d angered him somehow even though you logically knew you’d done nothing other than invite him inside.

Maybe you were overreacting, you think, you’d been quite paranoid as of recently, your family had been distant and you’d been feeling lonely and anxious for a while. It’d been an embarrassingly long time since you’d had guests over, at least, guests that mattered to you and hadn’t been your parents’ friends or siblings spouses. The look in Ajax’s face makes your stomach churn; had something happened?

“Are your parents home?” He asks, his voice tinged in a mixture of distaste and sadness, it’s lower than when he’d spoken to you earlier and you wonder what could have happened to create such a drastic change in his behavior. If you took the time to notice you’d see how his eyes glare at the family portrait; the two traitors clear as day as they embraced their children, Childe couldn’t help but see them in a new, more negative and hateful light.

Not after two weeks of research, not when he was now certain they wanted to get in his way.

“No, they said they weren’t coming home until later tonight, but if you want to stay till then I’m sure they'd love to see you again,” you try to reassure him thinking he was perhaps saddened at not being able to see your parents, it’d make sense since, unlike you two, they hadn’t been able to keep in touch since the young man’s career in the Fatui began.

“I… I don’t think I want to meet them, no,” Ajax shakes his head, his hair bouncing as he makes his way to your sofa, his legs tremble slightly – cowards, he thinks, not even able to show their faces, “I actually came here to talk to them but, ha… now that I’m here I’m not too sure.”

“Hmm, how so?” You ask, your heart - which was already quite nervous at his sudden change of mood - sinks further, a sudden uneasiness fills your lungs.

He’d come here in hopes of finding you parents and confronting them with his findings, he would have offered them a chance to redeem themselves and cancel the wedding without you even finding out about the secret dealings they’d been making in your name, but they were not here, you were. Maybe, he could change his battle plan, if he couldn’t talk to your parents… why not simply talk to you? If he’d offered a higher sum and never asked you himself, he’d be no better than that lowlife and your parents, not that you’d reject him - but the thought of steeping as low as they did made him sick.

“What are your thoughts about marriage?” The question is so sudden and unrelated to the previous topic you instinctively frown.

“Marriage,” you sit down opposite of him, it feels like you’re in a job interview as he questions you, “I mean, I’ve thought about it but I’m not sure I want to get married, at least not now, I’m not too sure I’d want to give it all up; I mean, I have a job and friends, there’s so much to do, so much I want to do… and I can’t say I’d be able to do it all if I was married. I’d like to travel and, I… I don’t know, learn more I guess, I feel like if I settle down it'll be once I’m more, you know, confident or mature?”

You trail off awkwardly, it was true - the only times you’d ever seriously thought about marriage often included you being significantly older and, most of the time, with an already retired Ajax — though you wouldn’t admit that to his face unless you were certain he felt the same. You’d rather keep that last part hidden, if not for fear of making him uncomfortable, for the sake of your heart and fear of being brushed aside. Your parents had made it quite clear; you were no marriage-material, you’d be lucky if you even manage to get a partner at this rate, and you doubted a man as accomplished as Tartaglia, Ajax, the 11th Harbinger, would settle for a average, clumsy, pessimistic small town girl such as yourself.

He stays quiet as if a million thoughts were racing around his head; that wasn’t the answer he particularly wanted, he’d rather hear you’d been fantasizing of marrying him, hear you ramble on and on about how you’d been waiting for him and were just about ready to go down the aisle with him and promise yourself to one another but he was glad you weren’t against the idea of marriage, even if he wished you’d been more open about doing it sooner rather than later; but that would change, he was sure of it.

“And, uh, what about you?” You ask, the air felt heavy and you desperately wanted to ease the tension, only one thought was really running through your head that you were too afraid to ask; “What was going on with Ajax?”

“Me?” The question snaps him out of whatever mental trance he’d caught himself in, “Well, I want to get married, the sooner the better, I want to have a family, but it’s gotta be with the person I love the most in this world, I couldn’t bring myself to imagine living without them.”

Neither the words themselves nor the sentiment are crazy, even if you’d only just gotten to know him, it was obvious Ajax wanted a loving family to call his own and it was a pretty common desire for many, it more so was the way his eyes seemed to bore into your own as he spoke, as if he were trying to let you know it was you who he was talking about. You flustered at the thought, it was perhaps selfish to think it was you he was talking about but the thought pleased you nonetheless even if your parents’ words echoed in your mind.

“That’s, ah,” you mumble, breaking eye contact and looking elsewhere, trying to calm your beating heart, you should stop being so silly - he was here to talk with your parents, not you, both of you meeting was mere coincidence, nothing else, “really nice, I hope you find them soon..”

“You do?” He smiles, seemingly pleased with your words, but it’s significantly weaker than usual.

There’s an awkward silence as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’d come here to propose. You know it sounds crazy and incredibly sudden but the mention of marriage and wanting to talk to your folk, the fact he’d made the time in his incredibly busy schedule and travels to come over to your house, it made it sound like he had ulterior motives for coming here and just the thought of them had you flustered. You may have just said you wanted to hold off on marriage, that you doubted someone like him would even think of being your partner, but you felt certain that if Ajax asked for your hand you would agree with no hesitation – out of a pitiful mix of love and desperation.

You’re unsure of what to do and are about to speak up, willing to say almost anything to move the conversation forward and away from the topic, but he beats you to it and breaks the silence first.

“Listen, dove… I-I love your parents and I wouldn’t accuse them of something like this if I didn’t have evidence, okay?” He lies through his teeth, after finding out the way they were so willing to get in between you two he could barely stand the thought of them now, but he’s lucky the rest of the words come easy, “I really didn’t want to believe this either, but I have many a reason to suspect they may be trying marrying you off soon to a stranger.”

“W-What?” You breathe out, you struggle to process his words, it’s as if they’d bounced off your brain and floated off elsewhere, “M-marrying me off? What’s - what do you mean?”

No, no, no way.

You feel yourself grow tense and light headed.

What sort of messed up prank was this? There was no way… right?

“It seems they found a member of the Fatui,” he shakes his head, “a guy named Andrei Galkin, and they’re planning to marry you off to him, so I decided to ask around - it seems like it’s been a topic for a while now, money may be involved too, the reason I came here was to… have a talk with your parents, see if I could change their mind.”

“D-do you even have proof?” You ask with a shivering voice, heat rushes to your cheeks as you begin to feel hot in embarrassment and anger; your parents were meaning to sell you off to some man? This had to be a joke Childe was playing, you’d known he’d become a bit off after the Abyss incident and you knew his time as a Harbinger probably messed him up, but this wasn’t funny. It was disgusting, the mere prospect has you trembling as you try and grasp what on earth was happening. However, the more you look at him, you wonder if this is a joke at all. You studied him and his expression, desperately trying to see anything on his face that’d indicate this was a sick prank from his part, a cheeky smile or maybe lack of eye contact - anything would do, you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate as you realized how absurd it’d be for him to come all the way to a village hours away from the main city to play such a horrible joke on you, one he must have known would cause you pain and anguish — you doubted he’d want to see you like this, at least you hoped he wouldn’t want to see you like this.

Oh, the realization makes you grow lightheaded, he was probably telling the truth.

“There’s correspondence between them and his family, there’s also a wedding venue booked under their names,” Ajax mumbled, his voice a mere whisper against the sound of your beating heart, he pulls a few files from his coat and hands them to you - your last name is printed on the cover and you quickly open them and browse through the pages, your heart sinks, “I also found money transactions between your family and the Galkin family, about… I’m sorry but I can’t —“

“How much, Ajax?” You feel stiff and your hands start shaking making it hard for you to continue flipping through the countless reports, photographs, records, bank transactions, and letters, your blood feels terribly cold as you try to calm down the whirlwind of feelings that coursed through your body, but you couldn’t bring yourself to calm down, not when your family, your parents of all people, have seemed to been able to calmly put a price on not only your love but your person as well.

“About 900,000 Mora,” he mutters, cold blue eyes avoiding your gaze as he continues, “to Uncle and Auntie from Andrei’s family.”

“900,000 Mora…” You feel your heart shatter as Childe brings a comforting hand towards your shoulders, his calloused fingers massaging your tense muscles, “You’re… you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I’d never lie about such a thing,” he approaches you slowly, Ajax continues speaking as he envelops you with a hug soon after removing the papers from your trembling hands,“this pains me as much as it pains you.”

All of this was true, it’d taken him a long time to gather it all, but the reality was simple and cruel;

your parents had begun arranging for your marriage to an older Fatui soldier for after his retirement.

“Why… why would they do this?” You mutter, feeling sorrow slowly fill your lungs up - making it harder to breathe comfortably, “H-how could they? How could they? Why… Ajax, w-why?”

You felt like an idiot, just minutes ago you’d naively thought you may be getting proposed to by your childhood lover, a childish and hopelessly romantic thought, but now you’re sitting in your living room, on the verge of a breakdown as you tried to think of why on earth your parents would be willing to accept such an offer on your behalf, why they’d use you - their daughter - for Mora.

“Shhh, it’s okay, let it out,” he brings your head into his shoulder, caressing your back in a soothing manner, “it must feel horrible, I’m sure.”

And so you sit there, sobbing into your old friend as you try and process the information presented in front of you. It takes you a good couple of minutes to calm down, by then you two have once again sat down on the couch.

“What am I going to do?” You bury your face into your hands, your body shook as you thought about having to confront your parents once they arrived now with the knowledge you had.

It takes Ajax a couple of seconds before he speaks up, he needed to make it seem like he hadn’t been thinking of this from the moment he’d gotten his hands on the evidence himself; “I have an idea but...”

Your head shoots up in record speed, you could practically feel your neck crack from the sudden move but you didn’t care, you were desperate for a solution - no matter how good or bad it may be; “Oh come on, just spit it out, nothing could be worse than this.”

“Marry me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches; “M-Marry you?”

He nods, sapphire eyes staring you down like a hunter would prey - you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.

“Why?”

“Why?” He echos, you can see him stifle a laugh, “Because it’s either that or marrying some lowlife named Andrei who paid to wed you.”

You feel your body stiffen at the harsh words, they were true but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear. You avoid looking him in the eyes, your hands anxiously twiddle each other.

“… and what if you’re wrong?”

“What?” He asks as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said.

“What if my parents aren’t marrying me off…”

“Darling,” Ajax laughs but his eyes didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, “are you doubting me? I gave you evidence, it’s right there.”

“Not necessarily,” you look away, you couldn’t help but wonder why you needed to explain yourself, “but, come on, I can’t accept this, it’s too sudden and mom and dad, t-they’d never do this to me, right? I’m their daughter, you know? They love me, they said they did and you don’t do this if you love someone, right?. So… so w-what if you’re wrong?”

“Wrong? There’s no other interpretation that makes sense of what we’ve both seen. Why would I lie to you about this? Come on, love, look at me, do I look like I’m enjoying this?” He questions you, “Look at me, come on, listen to me, if it were up to me,” he grabs your chin when you refuse to meet his gaze, his dark blue eyes stare deeply into your soul; they don’t shine the way the once used to, “I would have asked them for their blessing and proposed to you in the plaza, I would have had a ring ordered from Liyue costume made for you, I’d organize for their to be flowers of every color imaginable, even arrange food and music too, there would be hundreds onlookers who’d die to experience a fraction of the joy we would be feeling, I would have invited my family and yours, I’d have you wearing a custom dress, you’d be the happiest woman in Teyvat if I’d have my way… but look where we are instead, can’t you see? This isn’t what I wanted for us, this isn’t what I wanted for you, but we still have time, we can still fix it. But before that first, you have to believe me and get it through your head; this is who they are, this is what they’ve done, your parents don’t love you any more.”

“…” You can only look at him in shock as you feel tears swell in your eyes because it was not far fetched to say that the last few months your family had been distant, that they’d begun to act strange, and that you’d been short on cash for Tsaritsa knows how long, it hurt because a part of you felt like this was plausible. Because it was true, you were the youngest and that you didn’t exactly pull your weight the same way your siblings did, it was true you’d been more of a casualty in your family’s life but that didn’t mean they’d sell you off. No, they had treated you with love and kindness, they’d been there for every big step in your life, they loved you… right? They’d never do this to you, they would never accept Mora in exchange for your hand in marriage. They would never trade their love for you for some Money… right?

Maybe their love was ensuring you had a better future, one where your lover took care of you even if you didn’t exactly choose them, it was true your love life had been awfully stale, that the only person you’d ever been interested in who had also liked you back was in the army, and that you were never quite able to secure a full time job, it was always part-time and you were always booked the least compared to your coworkers. It was true you didn’t have many friends, most of the people your age had moved away by now, you were the only one of your siblings who wasn’t married or dating someone, out of all of your siblings you were the only one who seemed to remain the same no matter how many years passed. Maybe it was exactly what this was, a misunderstood, misplaced, and ill-fitting way of showing their love; but maybe you hated the thought this was their way of expressing it more than you were moved they’d tried at all.

“Shhh, my love,” you didn’t quite catch when Ajax had started wiping your tears away nor when he had managed to get so close, but at that moment – the moment where your whole life felt so uncertain and shaken – you were willing to ignore it all, “it’s okay, I know what you’re thinking… My offer still stands, you can still marry me.”

“And then what?” You sobbed, holding his gloved hands tightly against your cheek, “What am I going to do after that?”

“You’ll move in with me,” he responds matter of factly yet his tone is still soft, as if he feared speaking too loudly would scare you away, “and we’ll tell them together and you’ll make your bags and we’ll be on our way away from all of this mess. Please listen to me, sweetheart, as of right now, I’m the only choice for you – it won’t be bad at all, it’ll be lovely in fact, don’t you want that?”

“…”

“Please, please trust me, I only want what’s best for you,” he continues, ignoring your silence and instead continuing to caress your skin, “I’ve worked with Andrei, he’s no good, he’s older and cranky, he’s always in a bad mood, he won’t satisfy you, and I don’t want you to be miserable, I mean look at you, is this what you want? Hear me out and put trust in me, you won’t regret it; I’ll get you out of this, I promise.”

“But…”

“I love you and I know you love me,” he whispered, drawing closer to you, his voice low as he slowly leans into your lips, he stops right before they can touch his own, “and I’m sure you’ll grow to love this too.”

There’s a silence as you let your options cross your head, you feel yourself grow overwhelmed, being struck with grief and regret in such strong waves you have no choice but to simply give in to the only secure stone you currently see in the storm that was brewing in your mind.

He loved you, he said so himself, and he’d protect you, he’d promised. You could trust him, you had to trust him; you had no one else.

“I’ll… I’ll marry you.”

“That’s my girl.” He boasts, his face – which is now close enough for you to smell the mint in his breath – breaks into a smile before he’s leaning into your face to kiss you; You reciprocate the action and close your eyes, secretly hoping that today was but a nightmare.

You feel his gloved hands wander around your body, the leather-like material is smooth as his skilled digits play around. There’s barely any time to breathe as he continues kissing you until you grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen entering your lungs.

You had always liked Ajax, always dreamed of marrying him, but as your dreams were coming true you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the circumstances that brought it up.

“Darling,” he moans, as he finally parts himself from your abused lips, “you’re not kissing back, don’t tell me you –“

“Ajax,” you interrupt, your voice barely above a whisper as you desperately try to dive into his eyes, seeking an answer, “why are you doing this?”

The question spoke for itself, no further clarification was needed; why had he come? Why had he revealed your parents’ plans? Was it even as awful as he made it seem? Why did he care? Why now? Did he really want to marry you or did he just feel responsible for you? Why did he bring himself into this mess? Why you, why him, why, why, why, why? Simply; why?

A part of you couldn’t quite believe what you’d heard, you still struggled to grasp the idea that your parents would even think of giving your hand away for Mora, and yet the intensity in his voice, the anger in his tone as he relayed the information he’d gathered could have convinced anyone, you doubted he’d lie about something as severe. If this was the truth, it’d been revealed to you too quickly, you’d been expected to get over it too soon, one moment you find out your parents were getting rid of you and your trust in the most materialistic of ways and the next you’ve been proposed to by a man you hadn’t seen in person for over half a decade. You can’t help but wonder if you said yes because you loved him or because you were desperate, for what - you didn’t know.

“Because I love you,” he speaks, his dull eyes finding yours and you wonder if they’d always lacked light, “I love you… and I’m not letting anyone get in my- our way.”

In his head, this was the only way to have you, this was the only way to love you, he was going to save you.

He doesn’t stop to wait for your response before he’s picked you up with ease, years of training and hard work evident by how nonchalantly he walks around your house and goes up the stairs, ignoring all the other rooms and picking up the pace the closer you got to the destination; you were going to your bedroom, you realize, the one you’d been occupying since you were a child. You never thought your house to be small but the speed in which he was walking made you aware of how short the distance between your bedroom and living room was.

“Ajax, what are you doing?” You whimper, you hold on tightly to the ginger, you’re so close you can smell his cologne, afraid he’d let you do if you let up even for a second.

“I’ll show you,” he continued down the hall, there’s an edge to his voice that gives you a chill, he sounded almost angry but with whom you did not know, “I’ll show you why I’m doing this.”

You two finally make your way to your bedroom where he kicks the door open and plops you, quite unceremoniously, down onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes and wiggles his heavy coat off before climbing the bed with you, he tugs you around until you’re below him.

“You’re doing all of this too fast, calm down,” you argue, pain and sorrow still evident in your voice and it hurts his soul to hear it, “you don’t have to prove me anything, I…”

“Everything I’ve said is true, love,” the red-head insists, “and I’m doing this equally for me as I’m doing it for you.”

You don’t respond, instead you opt to look away; his gaze was becoming too intense and it was making you feel funny in ways you hadn’t felt before.

“Look at me,” his hands find your jaw and he redirects your gaze forcefully, “you’ve already said yes, unless… don’t tell me you,” his eyes darken as they narrowed, an almost animalistic look took over his features, “you lied and you don’t want to marry me.”

“I… I do, I’ve always wanted to, but,” It’s embarrassing to admit but you do so anyway in fear of creating a misunderstanding between the two of you, everything was going so fast you were struggling to keep up, “but… is this really how you want to do it?”

You were certain you could take things slower, maybe wait for your parents to come home and talk to them, you didn’t understand why he was in such a hurry, was this healthy? Was this okay?

“Yes,” it seems like he can sense your hesitation so he continues, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His words held so much certainty you almost feel stupid for even questioning him, he drew near your lips once more before engulfing your mouth in a kiss, this time with much more vigor than before.

His teeth nip at your lips, begging for entry and you shyly grant it, slowly parting your mouth open. It’s all so messy as you feel his tongue enter your mouth, the muscle seemingly had a life of its own as it mapped your mouth, teeth clashed against each other as if he were desperate to dominate you.

His hands find your waist and insists on pushing you further into the bed, molding your body into the mattress, as he rubs your sides with slow, sensual movements that light your body ablaze. The contrast between the continuous attacks on your lips and the soft stroking of your body left you dizzy, he handled you as if you were made of porcelain and yet ravaged you like a beast when granted access.

You unknowingly whine as your lips finally part, taking a deep breath of air in the process, a thin strip of saliva connected you both, a lewd indicator of the passion Ajax wished to imprint on you. You’re both panting, clearly riled up from the heated kiss, but the man on top of you insisted on letting his hands work their way through you. Your eyes trail downwards where his gloved digits traced the shape of your body, the way they glide across your curves and dips was hypnotizing, and you miss the way a smirk overtakes his features as he realizes how tightly he’s got you wrapped around those very same fingers.

You feel his breath before you hear his words; “Can I take this off?”

His voice is barely above a whisper yet his question rings around the room like a scream, you feel yourself grow hot under your clothes; the same ones he’d just asked to remove off of you.

You’re too embarrassed to answer him, still slightly hesitant to continue going, you can feel your cheeks heat up into a burning mess and you’re scared that if you speak you’ll make a fool of yourself, so instead you nod slowly, trying to calm your racing mind, moving your eyes elsewhere in hopes you wouldn’t have to see the smug look his face was sure to take.

However, he’s quick to catch your face and redirect your gaze back to himself; “Thank you.”

You let him pick you from the bed to fiddle with the claps on the back of your dress, his fingers are swift in figuring out how to free you from your outer layers, it’s almost amazing how quickly he’s able to take your clothes off until you’re clad in your modest undergarments.

Due to Snezhnaya’s unforgiving winters you often layered multiple articles of clothing and prioritized warmth over aesthetics, the thought your underwear might be underwhelming doesn’t cross your mind until you’re left with your thigh-length woolen socks and plain bra and panties. You wonder if maybe the sight would be disappointing for a man as well traveled as Childe, he’s probably seen much more appealing bodies and clothes during his travels, but that idea goes as quickly as it comes when you finally see his reaction to your partially bare body.

Even though he still wore multiple layers, you could see the way his chest had begun to fall and rise unsteadily, his cheeks have taken a feverish glow, and his breath has become noticeably ragged, the hands that held the clothes he’d recently taken off your body were clearly shaking, his fists tightened their grip on the soft fabrics of your garments until they wrinkled. His eyes never left you, even as they traveled through your body, mapping out every nook and cranny he so desperately wanted to mark and savor, he didn’t dare let his gaze wander as if afraid the minute he did you’d disappear and he’d wake up in his office, cold and alone.

“Hah…” Ajax lets out a soft moan as he takes in the sight in front of him, he feels weak and bothered as he watched your breasts rise and fall as you breathed, he lets his eyes go downwards until he’s face to face with your covered pussy and he feels his underwear slowly moisten as he catches sight of a small wet patch that had formed in your panties.

“Don’t look at me like that…” You mumble into your arms, your body instinctively tries to hide itself but your friend doesn't allow it. The minute he feels your legs try to bundle together he slots himself in between them and throws your clothes away so he can fully grasp and force them apart.

There’s silence as you both stare at each other, waiting for one of you to make the first move and fully pass the point of no return.

Surprisingly, this time it’s you who grows impatient and drags the ginger down to meet your hungry lips.

Maybe it’s because right now, Ajax felt like the only person who cared about you and you felt desperate to feel comforted, you felt betrayed and hurt and you craved to be reminded you were loved. It wasn’t healthy and a part of you felt guilty, like you were using him for momentary comfort, as if you’d forced him to come and offer his hand in marriage, if you were smarter and stronger maybe you would’ve realized what was going on and could have stopped it. But he’d said he loved you, right? You loved him, you knew you did and he’d gone and declared his love for you first, even when you were kids he was always dedicated to reminding you of his adoration, but your parents said that too and where did that lead to? He wasn’t doing this out of feeling obligated to care for you, was he?

Maybe this was a mistake, you probably should not be initiating sex with a man you haven’t seen in person in years after he came to tell you your parent had sold you off to marry some rich old, gross soldier, you instead should have sat down and talked for longer, tried figuring out what was going on and perhaps find a solution that didn’t include you marrying your childhood sweetheart, not out of love but out of fear of being forced into an arranged marriage with a stranger. But the fact of the matter is that you didn’t do that, you let yourself be dragged along by his passion and desperation, you now laid in bed making out with Ajax as you desperately tried to push the thoughts of self-doubt and disgust away.

You try to focus on the present without thinking of the past nor the future; The almost one million Mora your parents had pocketed didn’t mean anything, there was no Andrei Galkin, Ajax had never left you, the Fatui didn’t exist, there hadn’t been any betrayal or hurt feelings, you were safe and you were free, there was nothing. In this room, at least for this moment, all that existed was you and Tartaglia.

His shirt is a barrier between your greedy hands and his naked body that’s becoming increasingly annoying as you parted your lips to grant him access to your all of mouth, which he gladly accepts as your tongues caress each other in a sloppy manner, you feel your teeth sometimes clash with his own but you’re too focused on tugging at his clothes, trying to get them off with the least amount of space between you both to care. They could rip, you didn’t care, you wanted to feel his body and warmth, you needed to feel alive.

Your body is starting to feel tingly, your nipples feel hard against your bra and your lower region becomes needy. You want him to touch you more but his hands are busy fiddling with your hips and waist, alternating between the two spots as he caresses and pinches your skin.

You both seem hesitant to let each other go even if it’s for something as necessary as catching your breaths, but even if things seemed to have slowed down it didn’t mean something isn't happening.

“Ajax,” your voice is soft and breathless, you feel your lungs beg you to not speak, “take ‘em off, wanna touch you…”

You gesture at his clothes, slowly running a finger around his chest and stopping at - where you guessed - his nipple was and pressing down hard.

A deep grunt of approval escaped the man’s lips at the feeling and it took him a second to nod, busy trying not to focus too much on the way he felt his cock throbbing, and back off to make way for him to take his clothes off. Childe refuses to completely climb off you, instead leaning backwards to unbutton his shirt and click off the harness he wore, his coat falling behind is his figure, and his shoes long since thrown elsewhere, his pink nipples are clearly sensitive as his eyes shut off tightly as his clothes graze them, his whole body felt on fire - as if your mere presence were an aphrodisiac to the man. Next is his pants and socks and he does his very best to be as quick as humanly possible, they’re all off in record speed and he’s soon only wearing his underwear.

The minute he’s done, he’s thrown himself back onto you as if trying to make up for the few seconds he’d parted from you.

You’re flustered as you finally feel his skin freely come in contact with yours, as if the situation slowly began sinking in just then. Not to mention, you’d caught sight of his raging boner through the thin layer of fabric that constituted his undergarments. It looked big and thick and you wondered, if you even reached that point, if it was even possible to feel good from such a thing pounding on your hole, it looked like it’d hurt more than anything. But a greedy part of you was desperate to find out how it’d feel to have all of him inside of you, to have his fat tip caressing the deepest corners of your body, painting your gummy insides white.

This time, you both skip the kissing and go straight to touching each other, this time more shamelessly and with less hesitance. Your hands find his neck and you pull his head into the crook of your neck where he dedicates his time to litter kisses across the area, you let your hands wander across his shoulders and neck, softly scratching the skin under your nails whenever he kisses a particularly sensitive spot. On the other hand, Ajax let his hands travel across your chest and cup your breasts, he molds the flesh like a stress ball, tightening his grip and pulling at them like they were toys. The feeling of your bra coming into contact with your hardening nipples makes you whimper and moan while your body contorts in an attempt to meld deeper with the man on top of you.

Your movements are restricted and awkward as you were currently caged between the bed and him, but you do your best to communicate your growing neediness.

“A-Ajax, mhmm~!” You gasp, his teeth gnaw at a spot in your neck that has a shot of neediness reaching your privates in electrifying waves, “… more, I wan’ more…”

You can feel his lips curve into a smirk as he hears the desperation in your voice but he’s not better at concealing the very obvious way your words affected him; “My dove wants more? Hah—haha, a-aren’t you such a cute ‘nd needy little thing.”

You huff slightly at his teasing words but you can’t deny that the way he addressed you as “his” made you grow increasingly horny. He seems to hear your soft complaint and finally parts with your neck, which was now littered with hickies and love bites, to allow himself to gaze deeply into your eyes.

You could never deny that Ajax’s eyes were the prettiest shade of blue you’d ever seen, they resemble sapphires and noctilucous jade but with less shine. When you both were younger you’d spend hours gazing upon them, admiring the intensity they held. Now, however, you can’t say you aren’t slightly intimidated as he gazes at you like a predator. His hands leave your body and you’re immediately missing the warmth they provided you, in fact, you’re about to complain and ask him to touch you again when he suddenly cups your clothed pussy with his hand.

His hand is large, his fingers are long and the palm is in no way small, which meant most - if not all - of your cunt was now being held in one of his hands. His thumb is hovering over your clit and you gasp as you feel him tighten his hold and trace his fingers across your slit and up to your sensitive nub.

You squirm, letting your bottom grind against his hands, slowly building up your pleasure until you’re letting out soft moans and whines. Tartaglia decides to aid you as he himself works towards getting his member hard and oozing with release by moving his hand across your pussy and grinding on your thighs simultaneously. Your mind grows hot and dazed as you sense your pussy begin to drool, you could feel the way your juices leaked, the wet trail they’d leave and traveled across your your entrance, down your slit and across your thighs, soaking your underwear with release; you wondered if Ajax could feel your excitement too.

You could certainly feel him. His cock had long since been hard and leaking precum, you could make out through hazy eyes and desperate movements a wet patch on his boxers. It looked so big constrained against the fabric, you wanted to free his cock and feel it inside your hole, any of them, his balls seemed to hold unceremonious amounts of cum as the wetness kept growing more and more visible to you, you wondered if he’d be willing to come inside of you if you asked.

You both work together, trying to make the other as aroused as possible until someone snapped and began demanding the intercourse you both clearly wanted.

You don’t want to give in, not yet, but he’s begun to tease your slit with his fingertips and you’re growing aggravated from the empty feeling in your cunt. You feel yourself clenching onto nothing, your walls closing desperately trying to find anything to grip onto, you are growing desperate to feel something inside, be it his fingers, his tongue or his cock — you wanted him inside of you, now.

“Ha… hah~” You can feel his tongue hanging from his open mouth, drool escapes his parted lips and coats your breasts, you’re surprised he’s managed to keep himself up for so long, all the training he’d endured paying off and allowing him to mount your thighs and grind his length against your skin, his expression is one of extreme arousal that makes you tense and grow lust-drunk, “T-Tell me… d’ya wanna feel my cock in your pussy yet, darling?”

“…! M—mhk?!” You let out a high pitched whine as a particular stroke of his hands delves momentarily into your clothed hole, you can feel your cum slowly dirty your underwear.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, his movements growing erratic, his ginger hair seems darker and less vibrant against his reddened face, “your… your pussy is beggin’ for me!”

“Please…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your body still rocks alongside his own as he uses your body to get off and bring you close to a mind-numbing release, your voice wavers as your whole being is shocked from the pleasure Ajax’s hand toying with your clothed cunt brings, your legs twitch and your body keeps contorting and folding.

“Hmm, please what? I need you to tell me,” he mumbles, his voice takes a deep, desperate and animalistic tone as he continues, he takes his fingers and starts to circle your clit with an unimaginable force, “What do you want, huh? If you want me to fuck y-you, you’ll need to use your big girl words. Say; “I want my husband’s cock inside of me”, come on, ask for y-your husband’s cock…!”

“A~Ajax…! Please-uh…” Your body begins to hurt, your very own genitals seem to be burning in fire as you desperately try to soothe the ache in your womb and clit. You begin to rut against his hands at an embarrassing, almost objectifying, pace, absolutely desperate to cum and lift the cloud of lust that seemed to haunt you from the moment Ajax laid your body on your mattress.

“That’s not who I am,” he mumbles into your skin, his teeth beginning to bite and mark the flesh of your breast, “I’m y-your husband now, right? So, ask for it properly… hah~ won’t you?”

“… want my h-husband’s cock, I… inside of me, please,” you whine between heavy breaths, “I… want to fuck my—hah… h-husband…”

The moan that leaves his lips is loud and primal, his whole body shudders as he hears your plea. He didn’t think he could get any harder and yet hearing your shaky voice ask for him sends a rush of blood through his body and straight to his dick.

“Ahaha… that’s right, isn’t it? I-I’m your husband now,” an unsettling grin starts to form on his face, one that, if you weren’t so desperate and vulnerable, would probably have sent a shiver down your spine; it was an expression that resembled his face after ending a powerful opponent, one that meant victory was his, that he’d won, it was the face many people would see before departing the realm of the living, one of pure, unhinged bliss that could only be understood by a man such as himself, “I’m your husband, your husband… a-ah! Ha-ah, that means… hah, that means it’s my duty to fuck you, to make you feel good, a good husband makes love to his spouse, right? S-so as your husband, I get to be inside of you… a-and make you cum lots. Yeah, I… I’m going to be the best husband, you’ll feel good too… So be a good wife and take all of my love, ‘kay?”

During his incoherent rambling, which you barely could understand, he works to rid you of your underwear with desperate movements. His hands pull at the fabric with enough force that they tear, allowing him to rip the fabric off your hips and discard it on the floor. The cool air in your room hits your lower end and makes you shiver, your body had been previously engulfed by Childe’s warmth, the feeling of his own heating body and rapid blood circulation had sheltered you from the freezing temperature outside of the sinful haven between your bodies. The difference in temperature and its effect on you seems to have been noticed by your partner, who looks around the room trying to find a solution.

You want to hurry him up, tell him you didn’t mind the cold, that you just wanted to feel him inside you for the first time, but before you know it he’s pulling something from behind; his white coat soon is back on his shoulders, lazily throw on, barely holding up as he quickly pulls his underwear off. He’s quick and precise, never wasting a moment as he adjusts himself on top of you once more, this time with his bare cock leaking on your stomach.

“I’ll heat you up… inside and out, hah…” He mumbles, adjusting the coat so it covers both of you, the long, heavy material immediately worked wonders as your body regained its warmth.

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, you’re both trembling as he slowly lowers his pelvis to meet your own. You were right, he was big and he was long and thick, but he made sure to go slowly as he inserted two fingers to stretch you out in preparation.

Your slick facilitates the intrusion, there’s not much pain as he opens and closes his fingers, curling and extending them, as if trying to gauge how far you could stretch. His cheeks are a bright red, sweat runs through his forehead as he feels your body accommodate the feeling of his fingers. Ajax was big, always taller than most in your village, and his time in the Fatui had definitely contributed to his size – his shoulders were broad, his chest chiseled, and his fingers, the ones that slowly danced inside your pussy, were long and calloused. This was your first time feeling something other than your own hands and Ajax was making sure to show you all the places you could have never reached on your own.

You don’t even realize you’d begun panting, soft whines and moans had been leaving your lips forma while now, noises that only served to encourage Ajax further. But he had to stop, he needed you both to cum together as one. Your first time together had to be romantic like that, both of you climaxing together and coming undone at the same time.

There’s a feeling of emptiness and disappointment that follows the feeling of his fingers leaving your body, you’re about to complain when you see him bring his fingers to his lips to lap at the slick that had stuck to them. You’re mesmerized at the lewd image, gazing hopelessly at the way his face melted into one of pure pleasure as he tasted you. He makes sure to lick his fingers clean, his tongue lapping at the cum.

You catch his eyes and they soften, a lovestruck look taking over his features, you nod and open your legs wider than before; encouraging him to finally fuck you. He positions himself outside of your opening, making sure you grasp your legs and pull them as wide apart as he physically could without hurting you.

Even with the previous preparation, your breath is knocked out of your lungs as his tip slowly makes its way through your slit, past the muscles and finally inside your gummy walls.

He uses his arms to adjust his body, making sure to be as careful as possible as to not hurt you. This was your first time making love to each other, and he’d be damned if he were the one to cause you pain.

He gives you a second before pushing the rest in, he’s still slow, attempting to coax your body into adjusting to the feeling of being so full. His blue eyes are closed, his breath is heavy and you can feel the bed shake as he tries to control himself, you’re not faring much better, your head felt light as all your body could seemingly concentrate on was the feeling between your legs, your body was heating up and you could feel the warmth radiate off your skin.

You know he’s fully sheathed himself when you feel the soft “thud” of his balls hitting your ass, you’ve become hyper aware of the proximity and situation you’re in as his cock begins to throb inside of your pussy, his head comes to rest on the crook of your neck as you both adjust to the feeling of each other's body.

A moment passes, your walls that had previously been gripping Ajax like a lifeline slowly weaken, finally allowing both of you to relax and begin to experiment.

“I-I’ll start…” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze as if feeling shy, he begins to move around as if to grip the bed’s headboard, all while still inside you, his arms allowing him to cover your body from the world.

As you look up, you realize how he’s become all you see, his imposing frame and coat acting as a curtain blocking the outside from entering your view. Your heart feels heavy but you try and pay it no mind.

The movements are slow and clumsy at first, his cock never truly leaves your warmth fully, his tip always kept inside of your cunt - one way or another. The feeling is strange, you’re not used to the way his length would gaze at your walls or the feeling of the veins on his dick caressing spots inside of you that made you gasp and curl your toes. It’s new and it takes some adjusting before you begin to rock your own hips to meet his, suddenly it begins to feel good, really good in fact. There was something about the stretch, maybe it was the feeling of being so full, the way his cock curved and hit spongy spots in your pussy becomes addicting, or maybe it was the fat vein that decorated the underside of his cock, but it wasn’t long until you’re trying to entice a faster, tougher pace.

He takes his time teasing and easing you into the rhythm of sex, he wouldn’t tell you, but a part of him was scared that if he picked up his pace he wouldn’t be able to stop until you were leaking his cum - not to mention, he wasn’t sure he’d last long if he started to fuck you even faster. The feeling of your walls gripping him was divine, there are moments his thrusts grow unsteady and out of sync, as if his body was trying to take control and allow itself to set the animalistic pace he so desperately wanted, it’s these exact moments where his patience is tested, where he wants nothing more than to pick up your body and use it as a toy to fill with his semen.

“I wan’ more,'' you moan and he freezes as he feels your hips pathetically lift up to meet his heated thrust, your lower region coming up and rolling, rocking, and sloppily caressing his own pelvis in an attempt to suck him deeper into your sex, this was the first time you’d ever experienced such fullness and pleasure, your mind was numb and you’d forgotten all about previous sorrows, you truly wanted to feel more and more until all you could think of was Ajax’s cock and feeling good, “… wan’na feel my… my husband’s c-cock…?!”

At the title, the ginger truly can’t help the way his hips basically crash into yours, it was purely instinctual – just the sound of your calling him yours and acknowledging him as your husband, even if you’d only gotten engaged less than an hour ago, was enough to drive him mad with lust. He feels his head grow dizzy as thoughts of breeding you and claiming you as his take over. It’s as if a switch is turned on because from that moment onwards the atmosphere changed completely.

His previously considerate and soft strokes become harsh and rapid, you can feel your bed move rhythmically with his thrusts, your whole body jolts as he begins to fuck you with the sole goal of filling you so deeply your body was to be conditioned to respond lewdly to his mere presence. They’re deeper too as he now focused on feeling and claiming as much of your hole as possible, it’s impossible not to feel the way his cock imprinted itself deeply inside your body.

Your hands are desperate to grasp onto something, so you clutch at the sheets under you as tightly as possible, your body feels hot and heavy; your legs twitch and you're left gasping as Childe grabs your hips to adjust your position. You’re still lying down but your back arches itself to allow him easy access to your bottom, it’s surprising how easily he’s able to manhandle your body while never quite pulling out, always making sure to insert himself as quickly as he exited, never truly pulling out all of his dick.

The new position allows for him to hurry his pace, you’re soon moving like a rag doll with no control over your limbs. You’re left a moaning, whining mess as your brain struggles to process the waves of pleasure that bloomed from deep inside your pussy.

You feel your heart beating and you can almost hear the sound of your slick pouring out and lubricating your walls, making it increasingly easy to continue the Fatui’s pounding of your cunt. You’re not too sure if you’re even able to talk, the thought of forming a coherent sentence felt farfetched, all that leaves your lips are whines, sounds of pure pleasure and bliss that sound like an orchestra to Ajax.

He’s not doing much better, his vocabulary seems to have been reduced to declarations of ownership over you, boundless love, and immense pleasure. Your name soon becomes the only coherent sound leaving his lips as he lets his head fall back, his body almost working on autopilot as he allows his hips to ram inside you while his hands focus on teasing your nipples and forcing you to face his reddening face. His chest shines with sweat as he makes sure to fill the room with the sound of your skin meeting him and the growing wet mess between your merging bodies.

You’re both soon leaking arousal, Ajax’s cock starts to slowly redden and grow inside of you as he approaches orgasm, drops of precum start to form on the tip, and your torso starts to heat up as it feels heavier the better you feel; your cum is soon coating his dick white, a clear indicator he’d been inside your drooling cunt. You let go of the sheets and bring a hand to your clit, desperate to bring yourself closer to release.

“Ah-! Just like that,” Ajax exclaims, lurching forward as he feels your walls tighten around his cock, “tighten around me like that, fu–uck! I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in your pussy, gonna shoot my cum inside you… Haha–hah! You’re… you’re gonna be full with my cum, are you ready?”

You nod mindlessly, too busy playing with your clit and pressing kisses into Ajax’s skin. The feeling of being filled by your childhood sweetheart was intoxicating, it left you an overstimulated mess, moaning and whining as you gripped the man’s shoulders to bring him closer to you.

You couldn’t tell who came first, only that your final push was the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours. Maybe it’s the desperation you felt radiating off him as his tongue caressed your own, the way his hands tighten around your body as he begins unloading his cum begins seeping into your pussy and deep inside your body. You’re a shaking mess as you continue riding your orgasm on his dick, prolonging the pleasurable feeling by rocking your hips into his in an almost shy manner, it’s addicting and you’re left gasping and moaning for more. On the other hand, Ajax was trembling on top of you, his arms seemingly giving out as he collapsed into your body, allowing his head to rest beside your own on your pillows while his cock throbbed and painted your insides with his cum. He gives a few weak thrusts, as if making sure that his balls have been thoroughly emptied, before he looks over at your panting face.

You’re trying to catch your breath, desperately trying to calm your heart down into a stable rhythm, while your body twitches in a post-orgasm afterglow. You’re sweating, your eyes shut tight as you feel your pussy swell around Ajax’s dick, which was very much still inside you, and grow sensitive. Even in this state, where you’re too shaken to do anything other than breathe and try to relax your body, he thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

His hand, which trembled ever so slightly, travels to find yours and intertwine your fingers together. He subconsciously traces your ring-finger, trying to estimate your size, you’d accepted his proposal, going as far as acknowledging him as your husband, it was now his responsibility to find a suitable ring for you, one worthy of resting on your fingers.

He smiles, cuddling deep into your bare skin, pressing his softening cock deeper into you, which earns him a soft whine from you, essentially plugging his semen inside your pussy.

“… I love you, Ajax.” You mumble, eyes still closed shut, your voice drowsy and far away as exhaustion slowly catches up to you. Today had been hard on you, physically and mentally, you’d learnt more than you’d wished to have known, your relationship with those around you now forever changed; you’d agreed to marry your childhood friend in response to your parents’ betrayal, you’d given up your virginity to him and now laid in bed, struggling to know if you’d made the right decisions. An inner turmoil was growing inside you, a storm of emotions you were not ready to deal with, but right now, as you lay beneath the man who’d promised to save you, you decide to rest and let him take care of it, for now. Your breathing slows down, your body finally succumbing to sleep.

You’re too tired to hear the sound of the front door unlocking, your mother’s voice booming across the house as she calls out for you as she ushers your father and guests inside your family house. Ajax makes no move to leave your bed or even remove himself from inside of you, not even as he recognizes the distinct sound of footsteps that belonged to your parents moving around downstairs, grinnin softly as he hears your mother call out for you again, while your father talked to someone and merrily laughed, joking around, easing the tension of the first meeting between two people set up in an arranged marriage – where only one of them knew.

He can hear your parents talking, making an excuse at where you were, he can hear your mother climb up the stairs, he can hear her getting closer to your room.

What a lousy move, he thought to himself, to ambush you one day and try to dump the news on top of you like this, you didn’t even seem aware of guests coming over to your home at all, he frowned; he had expected more of uncle and auntie. Alas, he’d long since given up on them, he just hopes your mother doesn’t scream too loudly when she sees you two in bed together.

He’d hate for you to wake up to such an awful shriek.

There’s a knock on your door, Ajax smiles but makes no move to answer, and then another as your mother calls out your name. She sighs before threatening to open the door, Ajax has to stifle a giggle, pressing his lips into your shoulder to not let out any noise, too afraid to ruin the surprise for his soon to be mother-in-law, she hears no response, she clearly feels agitated and annoyed, he can hear it the way she knocks once more with a stern calling of your name.

There’s a second of silence before the door is swung open.

Ajax looks over to your mother, his coat covering both your naked forms enough that a semblance of modesty is kept but not enough that what happened between the two of you was misunderstood, it would be clear to anyone who could walk in, and he smiles, leaning his body into your own, further embracing you and pushing your sleeping face into his chest, he rolls over as a playful wave is sent her way, she stands frozen in place. Your bottom halves are still covered by the oversized coat, but the bruises and bites that litter your bodies are enough to paint a picture, his hand moves to caress your body, a smug smile takes over his features as he watches your mother try to come up with the right words to say.

“Hello, ma’am,” his tone is playful but the look on his face is one of pure venom, she looks beyond flustered but isn’t able to say a word; too shaken by the sight, the combination of her daughter and a man in bed together and the Harbinger’s insignia that seemed to shine with even the smallest movements from the ginger was enough to send her stumbling back, “it’s been a while, we have a lot to catch up on, huh?”

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hauntedraggedyanne · 3 months ago

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Writing extreme emotions

How to convey specific feelings in an in-character way

—Body language

How do they behave? Are they jumping around and cheering, or do they quietly shake their fist in rage as they stare through the other people? Depending on the character, one can mean a lot more than another. For example, a quiet, shy character getting worked up means a lot more to the audience because we get to see a new side to them

—Breathing

Obviously everyone breathes. But irregular breathing patterns (especially when they’re noticed by someone who’s not the MC) can tell a lot about what their reaction is. Are they losing their breath from laughing to the point where they begin to laugh and cry? Or is the world spinning around them as they begin to hyperventilate, going lightheaded and feeling overwhelmed?

—How they interact with their location

Are they throwing things, staring straight through all of the beautiful scenery, or are the bright colors blinding them? The more public and busy the location is, the less they may feel inclined to really act out, or maybe part of it is that they’re so emotional that they don’t care. Just try to keep the setting in mind for any dramatic, emotional scenes.

—Other people’s reactions

Consider how much the outburst is out-of-character when thinking about reactions. Do people run to console the anti-hero when they break down into tears, or do they stand there awkwardly not knowing what to do? Or, does this happen so often that others know exactly what to say and do, or are they so tired that they stand in the corner, defeated?

—Remember to stay in character

If you want this scene to stand out, you need to remember the characters themselves. Everybody gets emotional and breaks down, and when you can make it true to the character, you will make it real to the audience

#Writing #writing tips #writing advice #writers on tumblr #Writeblr #Creative writing #Writers #writerscommunity #writer stuff

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mammonscheeks · 4 months ago

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obey me brothers reacting to a malnourished mc

⤑ a/n: I feel like this is the most canon writing I’ve ever done yet... enjoy!

⤑ warnings: none

obey me masterlist | requesting rules

DEMON BROTHERS REACTING TO A MALNOURISHED MC

“Hey, MC! You’re lucky because you get to go out with The Great Mammon tonight! We’ll hit the casino n’ leave with our pockets stuffed, and then we can go clubbing! What d’ya say?”

“...”

“MC?”

Mammon put his warm hands on your shoulders and shook gently, not used to your lack of response. He furrowed his eyebrows as he caught sight of the dark bags under your dull eyes.

“Yeesh, MC! Did ya get into a fight or something?” Mammon joked, trying his best to hide the fact that he was worried about his human.

“Huh?” you blinked as you realized you had just been zoning out. “I, uh.... Shit! I forgot my potions textbook in my room, I’ll see you all later!”

“Language,” Lucifer sternly reminded you as you haphazardly scurried out of the classroom, your mind "lagging” as Leviathan would put it. The demon brothers watched you leave, shooting odd looks at each other.

“I don’t think MC’s been getting enough sleep,” Belphie yawned.

“As much as I hate to agree with Belphegor, he’s right. They seem quite fatigued.” Lucifer said, staring intently at his brothers. “Leviathan, did you force MC to play video games with you all night again?”

“Don’t accuse me first,” Leviathan grumbled. “But no, I was catching up on some anime alone last night.”

“Maybe MC needs to eat some more,” Beelzebub said, snacking on some chips despite the ‘no food’ sign in the front of the classroom. “Oh, I have an idea! Let’s get Luke and Simeon to cook a celestial feast.”

“You obviously only want that for your own self interest,” Satan rolled his eyes. “I’ve read a book on this. Maybe MC’s malnourished? Humans are fragile, of course. Additionally, the Devildom provides little natural light from the sun like in the human world.”

“I know just the cure!” Asmodeus gasped, pulling up Akuzon on his D.D.D. “Aaand it’s ordered!”

“You better not have used my Akuzon account for whatever beauty product you bought,” Leviathan raised an eyebrow.

“Oh hush, Levi. Trust me, this will fix MC up right away!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The package arrived by the end of the school day, thanks to Levi’s Akuzon Prime subscription.

Mammon held up a colorful piece of gelatin in his hand, inspecting it thoroughly.

“So this... Vitamin gummy... Is gonna help MC? This tiny little colorful thing? Seriously?” He grunted.

“Wow... Humans are weaker than I imagined,” Satan frowned, squishing one in his hand. “They have to eat these to stay alive?”

“Beel, don’t you dare think about eating MC’s gummies,” Belphegor scolded his twin.

“And don’t forget, I also got MC a sunlight lamp!” Asmodeus’ eyes glittered. “Apparently, these provide light therapy by tricking the human body into thinking they’re receiving natural light!”

“It seems that humans have weak minds then,” Lucifer sighed. “Either that, or we’ve been fooled.”

You walked into the HOL, stifling a yawn. Your entire body felt heavy from fatigue. It seemed like you had taken the human world’s abundance of sunlight and Vitamin D for granted. Solomon had helped you by casting a energy spell for the first few months you had lived here, but even that was starting to wear off.

“MC!” Mammon basically tripped over his brothers to rush to you. “Take one before you die!”

Startled, you looked up just in time to see Mammon basically shoving a gummy in your mouth, before you were immediately blinded by Asmodeus holding a warm light in your face.

You covered your face and squinted your eyes, seeing the eager and expecting eyes of the demon brothers.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You questioned. This was pretty unexpected, but you were used to the brothers pranks and shenanigans.

“We just wanted to help! We heard you were malnutritioned because it’s always dark in the Devildom!” Mammon said.

“So we bought a sun lamp and some vitamin gummies for you,” Belphegor yawned.

“Aw, guys... Thank you!” You smiled happily. Even though you hadn’t told the brothers explicitly what was wrong, thinking you could take care of it yourself, they had of course, noticed. Your heart swelled with appreciation, until you noticed that the brothers were still staring at you expectantly, like you were about to turn into some mutant creature.

“Uhh.. You guys do know that it’ll take a few days for my body to recover, right?” You shrugged.

“Oh..” Satan sighed, as the brothers looked disappointed. “I thought the effects would have been immediate.”

“Laaame,” Leviathan said. “A power-up type feature would have been way cooler! Like, imagine if MC ate that thing and grew 10 feet in size to defeat the final boss!”

“That’s fine, MC. Just focus on resting. I’ve excused you from classes for the rest of the week,” Lucifer said. “This is an quality of humans we should have researched more during the planning stage of the exchange program. Diavolo also sends his apologies.”

"Thank you Lucifer, but it’s no big deal,” you smiled. “Well, I’m going to go take a nap now.”

"I’ll come with,” Belphegor yawned.

“Oh no you don’t!” Mammon yelled, running after the two. “I’m the only one allowed in MC’s bed!”

“Hey, don’t forget about me! I’m bringing the lamp!” Asmo cried, waving it in the air.

“You know, I also read that cuddling with a partner can help fatigue,” Satan blushed, following behind.

“I’ll bring some snacks for us,” Beelzebub called after.

“I’ll bring my TSL movies so we can have some background sound!” Leviathan ran after. “Don’t you dare start without me!”

Lucifer sighed, looking after his brothers scrambling to get to MC. From having spells backfire on you, battling unique health concerns, and getting preyed on by lower-ranking demons, your acclimation to the Devildom had faced many obstacles. However, Lucifer knew that he and his brothers would do anything to ensure you had a support system.

As you fell asleep with the weight and warmth of your favorite people around you, you couldn’t help but feel loved and cared for.

#obey me #obey me hc #obey me mammon #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me x mc #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #obey me x sick mc #obey me shall we date #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines

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wildfairies · 9 months ago

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daphne did not plan on spending valentine's day crying over grayson! so she went clubbing, went home with someone random, and spent february 15th crying over grayson

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 edit #sims 4 edit #mind blind #interactive fiction #mc: daphne wiseman #guys wait i think i love my new cas setup #lush.chars #lush.ts4

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fruifruit · 6 months ago

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@kitidoodles YOU ARE SO RIGHT (check their tags im responding to them)

i can’t find a way to transform this into a comic right now but i truly believe “i don’t want to battle you anymore” is one of the worst things that mc can say to kieran

#YEHA YOU GET IT TOO #im insane about them .#i love kieran wanting to prove himself to mc but just. going about in entirely the wrong way #baby boy they liked you from the beginning!! but you are letting your insecurities blind you!!#to the point that /you/ dont listen to them anymore. the person you idolize #plus idolizing them in general is. bad.#LIKE i know in canon ofc mc is pretty. bland.#but in my head they are remorseful for lying to kieran. in my head carmine just sprung this on them and they felt #so pressured they just blurted out the lie #WHICH IS ON THEM!! its their fault they still chose to lie!!!#but they are not. perfect. but kieran is acting like he has to be for them #even though they dont want that. the way hes acting in fact is like. terrifying #second worse thing they could say is 'i want the old kieran back' in my head #because i think hed take it as not only a dismissal of how hard he's worked #but because his insecurities blind him to the point where he hates his past self. and you want him BACK?#unthinkable.#anyways thank u so much for rambling man i loved ur tags i am having Fun i hope u dont mind me tagging you JLKFJSL

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astrobydalia · 2 months ago

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September Observations

This post has a TW I do not allow the repost on any others platform

Something I forgot to mention in this post about 8th house synastry!! I've noticed for some reason this overlay tends to manifest more positively when the house person already has 8th house placements in their natal chart (not a guarantee tho). I feel like its because this makes the house person be more naturally in their power and the planet person no longer feels like they can have control over the house person. In these cases instead of envy the planet person feels admiration and "positive" obsession over the house person like "Im obsessed with you, queen!🥰😍🤩" kinda vibe

If Libra Moons didn’t have the ability to detach fast they could easily pass as water moons 100%. They are such hopeless romantics and love having someone to love be that friends or partners. And yes they can be codependent but only to an extent imo. I’ve seen Libra Moons actually detach surprisingly fast specially if they feel like you don’t match their energy

Im sorry but Libra Suns are not people you can count on imo. They have this very elitist/opportunistic mindset when it comes to people. They treat people based on some kind of unspoken social hierarchy they have in their minds like how successful or intelligent or interesting you appear to be for example. They'll be loyal for as long as they see benefit from associating themselves with you, otherwise they'll be distant, elusive and flighty af. Socially they appear to be super chill but they aren’t like at all, they’re very passive-aggressive and extremely judgmental of others

If you have Venusian MC/10th house (Libra or Taurus MC/10th or Venus in the 10th house), I've noticed people care what you think of them and really feel the need to make a good impression on you, specially the sex you're attracted to romantically. This placement makes people feel like your love and affection is a privilege to have, that’s why a lot of trophy wives have venusian 10th house/MC

Jupiterians (Pisces/Sagittarius but specially Sagittarius placements) are just the best people to be around tbh. Even when they have other toxic placements/energies in their charts, I’ve noticed they are ultimately all about the ✨vibes✨. They detach from negativity quite fast and avoid getting too deep into drama and controversy cause really all they want is to chill and have fun. The “no worries, bro” kinda people. The negative side of this tho is they tend to turn a blind eye when they get called out on their own issues and/or have a tendency to be dismissive when it’s time to take things seriously

^^^You’d say Venusians relate to this peaceful description too but tbh I didn’t include them cause Venusians tend to have a lot of repressed shit and are secretly all about drama (but watching it go down from afar tho)

I’ve noticed water mercury tend to be more diplomatic and charming with their words, the way they speak about things tends to be more soothing yet nebulous/confusing/cryptic. However earth mercuries are more direct and critical which makes them more prone to openly talking shit LMAO

There's a lot of posts victimizing and romanticizing Lilith in the 1st house/conjunct the ASC but I've seen this placement a lot in bullies and genuinely fraudulent people?? I've seen Lilith energy is commonly prominent in the charts of criminals too. Like idk why people act like the hate Lilith gets is ALWAYS unjustified 💀 They can truly be really dark and shady individuals that’s literally what Lilith signifies (this does not apply to everyone of courseeeeee)

Furthermore, I'm sorry to say this but prominent Lilith natives have a habit of living too much in the victim mindset and constantly make everyone else the problem as a way to justify their shitty behaviors

What I’ve noticed with Lilith natives who are not sketchy people (so just normal decent individuals) is that they have huge self-destructive and self-derogatory tendencies. They tend to become very cynical of the world, lose hope in their own value and humiliate themselves behaving in ways that are rebellious to them but make other people think the native has no self-respect

Libra/7th house Lilith tend to assume the worst in others. Envy placement. They struggle finding genuine and healthy relationships

I've noticed MC ruler in the 12th house is common in the charts of sex workers since 12th house is related to bed pleasures, secret affairs, etc

The sign that actually behaves like a child irl is Gemini. That’s why I've noticed Gemini placements always want to be the 'cool and fun parent' just like Phil Dunphy

TW: mentions of c**** abuse and s******.

I've noticed Cancer energy (Leo too but mostly cancer) is very common in the charts of p*dos, gr**mers and s*xual predators. No placement will determine someone being this way!!!

Chiron in the 1st house/conjunct the ASC/Harshly aspecting chart ruler is common in the charts of people who have or have tried to commit s******

End of TW

An underrated god complex indicator is Sun-Mercury conjunction. I can't stress enough how much these people's ego revolve around their intellect. Their entire personality to them is being the smartest person in the room

When it comes to pride and ego (Sun) fixed and mutable suns are the most likely to have a superiority complex

Mutable Suns take the most pride on their own knowledge and judgment, deeply believe they know better or have most if not all the answers. They have a tendency to often dismiss, correct or contradict others

Fixed Suns take pride in their own ‘essence’ if that make sense. They LOVE the idea of being special and irreplaceable. Feeling like there’s something intrinsically unique about them

Cardinal Suns are okay tbh. They can have other negatives but when it comes to ego theirs is usually pretty balanced I noticed. They usually take pride in their ability to level-up and improve themselves which often makes them rather competitive or in extreme cases have this heavily predatory mindset when it comes to what they want

This will not be accurate for everyone of course but when it comes to future children if you have Water/Earth moon you are most likely to have girls whereas if you have Air/Fire moon you're more most likely to have boys

Air Venus people are the most open-minded when it comes to taste in general. I've noticed they're the type to enjoy almost every music and movie genre, they can appreciate different aesthetics.... They're also the most likely to date outside their race I've seen cause they can really find beauty in all sort of features as long as it looks overall good/attractive to them. It's not that they don't have preferences, but they're type be open to being impressed and mentally stimulated

EARTH and Fire Venus people are the most selective when it comes to their taste. They know exactly what they want and like. In the case of earth Venus this can be to the point of strong reluctance to try new things. Fire Venus appear open minded cause they have this attitude of trying everything once but the usually have a very hard-set type of things they will actually commit to

Water Venus people aren't that open about their tastes. They hide or repress them cause they really tend to be into obscure or hidden stuff. If you ask them what they like, they'll give you an evasive and generic answer, specially if it's in the context of small talk

I've noticed Capricorn and Scorpio Moons have an innate understanding of the uglier sides of human nature which is what makes them pretty cynical (scorpio) and pessimistic (cap). They are hyper-aware of how most people can be bought and corrupted. This makes them AMAZING business people tho.

Aries ASC natives embody the active, wild and spontaneous stereotype more than the other aries placements. They come across as pretty chill at first but there's actually very little they won't dare to do, they love adventures

I've noticed Venusians can do really good in anything related to sales or business counseling, because they are good at estimating and promoting the value of things

I know we relate Neptune to otherworldly and glamorous vibe but all the people that I've met who made me go "wow, girl, you don't feel real" were people who had air signs in their big 3. They’re not real people, they’re concepts, I swear that’s the vibe they give me💀💀

Also, air signs in the big 3 is an underrated fame/success indicator imo. Nowadays networking is everything in order to succeed and these natives naturally attract popularity and connections SO easily. They effortlessly use their charm and likeness to gain opportunities

I once saw an observation that said Gemini risings give off dumb blonde energy and Im here to confirm it’s true, specially when Mercury is also in an air sign. This happens cause they're up in their minds all the time but this makes them appear VERY disconnected from their environment so they really just be looking like this 24/7 😀😃😄😁😆🙂 and that's why they come across as empty-headed. They also often have this manic pixie dream girl energy which results in people not taking them seriously. This is enhanced when you see that they have a tendency to get talkative about superficial or random topics but their more intelligent or deep thoughts they keep to themselves for some reason.

Taurus Moons actually are actually very very very strategic??? Other earth moons look messy af beside them. They're so grounded that they know exactly what they want, how they wanna get it and they are so sure of themselves they have no issue taking their sweet ass time with it. Every single step they take is so intentional and "organized" if that makes sense, but they pull it off as natural and spontaneous??

Also this is an obvious thing to say but Taurus Moons are so emotionally stable. They work extremely well under pressure, will literally be the calm person admist a chaos or extreme situation. I've seen Cap/Virgo moons getting triggered many times but Taurus moons???? I've known some of them for years and I've never seen them triggered EVER no matter happened which as a water moon that's fucking insane to me 😭💀💀 Like sure depending on their personality they can be more or less expressive of their feelings but its always on their own terms, they don't let other people or situations just get reactions out of them if that makes sense

I've noticed Mercury in the 4th house creates a divided and scattered family. Just like Mercury in the 10th house indicates traveling for work, Mercury in the 4th indicates traveling because of your family. The people I've seen with this placement have all of their family members scattered around the world living completely different lives

Sun-Neptune harsh aspects are very impressionable people and very easily influenced

Also, a lot of people point out Sun-Pluto aspects have like a hidden dark/toxic side to their personality but I've seen it's actually Sun-Neptune that match this description

Libra placements can potentially be very disciplined and do well in demanding and/or serious occupations like corporate, military or athletes since Saturn is exalted in Libra.

Venus in the 1st house can tend to only value the superficially good things in them (lovable, likabale, beautiful, etc) and are more concerned with the image they present rather than building a real personality deep down. This make them ignore or downplay their flaws thus not reacting well to criticism and/or when someone does not like them.

All the men that I’ve met who were actually providers and had this involved father and husband vibes always had VIRGO, taurus and cancer placements

Men with capricorn placements aren’t providers, they’re just controlling af😭😭 They will also be emotionally distant and manipulative af too if they do not have other energies in the chart to balance it out

Honestly water suns (sun in a water house natives too) fascinate me. They just go around life casually hiding who they really are like they don’t have the most intricate personality deep down. All of them have mysterious and intriguing vibes it's not just scorpio!!!

5th house placements (including vertex) will stay behaving like teenagers regardless of their age. The song "forever young" by alphaville really describes them

Neptune in the 1st house/asc are prone to attracting lots and lots of creepy individuals because they have this aura where people project all sorts of delulu and twisted shit on them. Mentally and/or emotionally unwell people feel very attached to these natives unfortunately

Leo MC/10th house really does indicate a career where you're some kind of performer. That’s why many celebrities (specially ACTORS and singers) are Scorpio risings. This can also apply to careers like politics, public speaker, standup comedian, etc. All of these involve some level of fame ofc

Cancer MC/10th house indicates being some kind of creator (cancer=birthing something new, bringing something to life). This a lot of times relate to some art form of course but it can be other things for example a friend of mine has this placement and she works in science and she told me she works in a lab with substances and materials she created herself (idk how it works but you get the idea)

Pisces Suns have a major in gaslighting from the university of never taking responsibility. This can be the case for any unevolved pisces placement but I’ve noticed the lying to your face and twisting reality is much more blatant in Pisces Suns for some reason. They make arguments in such a way that you can tell something of what they’re saying is off but you can’t exactly prove them wrong either so 🤷🏽‍♀️💀

Mercurial placements (Gemini/Virgo) and Venus in the 3rd house may really love wearing rings or lots of bracelets, big watches, etc. Accessories that bring attention to the hands essentially

Libra placentas may or may not want to be "liked" but Libra Moon is a placement I've seen is genuinely liked by everyone. They have this calming and loving energy to them. Celebrities with this placement are generally unproblematic (Anne Hathaway, Emma Stone) or if they are problematic they can easily recover from backlash (Ariana Grande, Leo DiCaprio)

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #zodiac #birth chart #astrobydalia #astrology observations #astro community

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harunayuuka2060 · 20 days ago

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Crowley: MC, would you mind personally delivering this invitation to Malleus?

MC: ...

MC: Who's Malleus?

Crowley: Ah, that’s right—you haven’t met him yet.

Crowley: Malleus Draconia is a tall student with horns. He's the dorm leader of Diasomnia.

MC: A tall student with horns, Diasomnia. Got it.

MC: How can someone with such a noticeable feature be this hard to find?

Trey: It's Malleus. He's a bit like Idia, except some students here actually prefer to avoid him.

MC: Oh.

Trey: If you want to spot him easily, look for this trio: a guy with light green hair, one with silver hair, and another with mid-length black hair with magenta bangs and peekaboo highlights.

MC: Why does the last one sound more specific than the other two?

Trey: He's the vice dorm leader. His name is Lilia Vanrouge.

MC: I see. Thanks, Trey.

Trey: You're welcome.

Malleus: Lilia, what are you doing?

Lilia: *winking at MC*

MC: ...

MC: You're... winking at me, aren't you?

Lilia: Oh! So, you're not totally blind?

MC: ...

MC: I can recognize facial gestures, so since you were close enough, I could tell you were winking.

MC: But please, I advise you not to do that again; I almost mistook it for a fly.

Lilia and Malleus: ...

MC: *looking serious with that advice*

Malleus: *smirks* You were almost on the receiving end of a slap, Lilia.

Lilia: Interesting.

MC: ...

MC: I'm leaving. *walks away*

Lilia: Visit us again~.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst lilia #twst trey #twst malleus #twst crowley #twst unseen

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karlachismylife · 2 months ago

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The Queen of the Clan Masterlist

When you decide to shake up your life a bit and partake in a trip with a documentary crew, you have no idea that meeting an unnaturally friendly hyena and have it mark your backpack would be only the beginning of weird things to come. Whatever will you do when a leaderless clan of four male hyenas chooses you as their matriarch?

CW: hyena shapeshifters 141 au, fem!reader, written with chubby!reader in mind. Will be adding tags as the story progresses.

Part 1: Spotted Your first big animal encounter goes a little bit wrong. Or does it?

Part 1.5: [redacted] Johnny tells the rest.

Part 2: Tough Spot While trying to get over your things being ruined and get back to work, you find a new human friend. And four non-human ones. Which can save your life though?

Part 3: Blind Spot A respectful ghostly guest guards you through an important mission to pee in the middle of the night.

Part 3.5: [redacted] Simon comes back to the den.

Part 4: A Spot of Lunch You forget about your weird feeling for a moment, when two playful furry babies come visit and bring a gift.

Part 5: Spot on the Mark You have an unexpected visitor on a night stakeout.

Part 6: Local Spot A short procedural delay sends you back to your temporary home at the sanctuary, and a friend shows you around.

Part 6.5: [redacted] Coming soon.

Singular spin-offs/AUs to the AU

Hyena Cerberus!Ghost headcanons

It's a Trap!

Tale of Four Danaës Coming soon.

Taglist: @elaineiswithyou-blog @creepingeva @my-halo-is-a-little-broken @sillymanjaro @ihatethinkingofnames10 @ravensfeatheruniverse @yaminax @ljh861 @darkangel4121 @ginger-n-coco @grey-shadow6475 @cryingpages @mothsdrabbles @mc-glare-is-king @vixxie22 @aldis-nuts @terraantarctica @henhouse-horrors @blizzivy @perfectus-in-morte @danielle143 @llavalada @yukichan67 @sleepisfortheweakpooh @ilxina @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @misscaller06 @etherealinthewoods @svnh6021 @pleasedontaskme @shadowentity6

If you want to be tagged in each part of the series, comment under this post! Keep in mind that this series will contain NSFW moments, so minors and ageless blogs DNI!

All headers and dividers used in the series by @saradika-graphics

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sylusjinwoon · 5 months ago

Text

{ 194 }

hello morning light.

sylus x (non mc)fem.reader

warnings: some suggestive themes, but nothing too explicit.

you were the first to awaken when you felt the blinding rays of the morning sun against your closed eyelids. the nearly burning sensation causes you to let out a soft moan when you reluctantly open your eyes.

upon awakening, you attempt to move your limbs to stretch them after laying still for so long, only to frown when you realized that you couldn’t move-

and instead heard a soft snore against your ear.

a gentle huff escapes from your lips when you trail your eyes toward your lover, seeing sylus in a deep sleep as he held you close to his chest. you take a moment to admire his handsome features, drinking in his silver locks of hair and full lips. his rufescent eyes were currently hidden beneath a pair of closed eyelids, but that didn’t stop you from gently running your fingertips against them, feeling them flutter beneath your touch.

“sylus…” you whisper his name, a sense of longing filling your heart when you lean closer to press a lingering kiss against his cheek.

“hmph… if your goal was to awaken me with a kiss, then you have completely missed your mark.”

a gasp escapes from your parted lips when you feel sylus’s large hand gently grasping at the back of your neck, opening one eye to observe your every expression before forcing you to come down to him, his lips meeting with yours in an almost searing kiss that left your mind reeling from the impact. you found yourself moaning against the kiss, allowing him to deepen it as he eagerly basks in your taste.

it was at that moment that you felt the embarrassment coursing through your veins, immediately pulling away from him as you let out a shaky breath in response. while sylus smirks at you, you could feel yourself becoming shyer.

“uhm, good morning…”

“hn, morning, love.”

sylus takes a hold of your hand, placing a kiss against the back of it, making you giggle in response as you visibly relaxed against him. “i suppose this means that you’re not letting me go anytime soon?”

“and why would i ever give you the freedom to leave me?”

his haughty words makes you roll your eyes in response as you lean down to press a kiss against his cheek before whispering in his ear, “i guess that means… you don’t mind if i offer to shower together with you, right?”

a mischievous glint was seen in sylus’s eyes, darkening his burgundy gaze to an even deeper hue as they became dilated with desire for you. with a growl of your name, sylus scoops you within his embrace, entering the bathroom while slamming the door shut, proceeding to lock it so as to give you and him some much needed privacy.

your clothes were tossed on the floors, with you and sylus sharing the shower together. the misty glass keeps the evidence of your intimacy hidden; the steamy heat of the shower, combined with the achingly intimate atmosphere creates an almost palpable energy between you and your lover. the sensations of hot water, of skin gliding over skin, and of the steam surrounding you enhances the experience…

needless to say, you both spent a long time indulging in each other, exploring each other's bodies under the shower's spray, your passion and desire intensifying with each passing moment before reaching a breaking point, the sensations of it all making you cry out to sylus as he merely smirks at you in response, watching with a fascination as you fell apart for him.

by the end of your ‘morning routine,’ sylus dons you in one of his silk robes, wrapping your form in the expensive material as he carries you out of the bathroom whilst dressed in only a pair of his sweatpants. you shiver, still feeling the pinpricks of pleasure coursing through your veins as you tease him, “mmm… i hope you’re ready to cook a huge breakfast for me… because i need some sustenance after that…”

he lets out another rich chuckle before leaning down to press a kiss against your damp cheek, “well, lucky for you, i happen to be quite the chef, my love. i’ll make sure to feed you so well, you’ll forget what it’s like to be hungry.”

after reassuring you, he places you against one of the stools of the kitchen counter, giving your lips another chaste kiss before heading towards the stove. with his back facing you, you felt yourself biting down on your bottom lip, actively checking him out as you basked in the sight of him only wearing his signature pair of grey sweatpants.

even as he gathers the ingredients to make breakfast, he can practically feel your hungry gaze lingering on his body, making a cocky smirk appear on his face as he begins preparing breakfast. the powerful man knows you’re watching his every move, and he takes great pride in putting on a bit of a show for you.

sylus allows his muscles to flex and stretch with every movement, his bare upper body glistening in the light as he cooks. it’s clear that he enjoys your attention and is silently relishing the effect he has on you, as if knowing that you were practically drooling at the mere sight of him.

after realizing how you were in a bit of a trance, you quickly snap out of it when sylus began flexing while cracking some eggs into the skillet, making your eyes roll once more as you made a poor attempt at keeping your pride intact, acting as though you hadn’t been drooling over him for these past 10 minutes.

“did you really need to flex while cracking some eggs?”

sylus meets your gaze with a smirk, purposely rolling his shoulders back before telling you, “what seems to be the problem? you’re clearly enjoying the show, and it is only my duty to make my cooking routine more entertaining for you.” he ends up finishing his statement with a wink that was hot enough to make your toes curl.

but you refuse to give into him so easily. “you’re so hot, but dorky and adorable at the same time.”

your lover feigns a wounded expression. “i’m dorky and adorable to you? ouch, and i thought i was supposed to be an intimidating leader.”

“intimidating? is that so? then why are you so achingly soft with me, hm?” you tease him once more, your question being rhetorical in every sense of the word since you didn’t expect a genuine answer from him.

yet still, sylus manages to surprise you. he goes back to the task of making your breakfast, keeping his gaze on the skillet before admitting to you, “achingly soft? well, i wouldn’t say i’m soft, darling. but with you… i can’t help but be. you just bring out something in me, love… something that i have never felt before.”

the sincerity heard in his words makes your heart melt in response, the adoration you felt for him coursing through your veins as you gently slid off of your seat, allowing your bare feet to pad across the floor before pressing yourself against sylus’s back.

you bury your head against him, placing both of your arms around the front of his bare abdomen when you murmur against his skin. “i love you, so fucking much.”

a gentle huff escapes from his lips when he returns your embrace, “i love you, too…”

you hear him shut off the stove, moving around a bit before revealing two plates with a heaping portion of omelettes with some bacon and sausages to the side. “come, my love. let us enjoy this meal… and once you’re all fed and satisfied, it’s time for you to satisfy me in our bed.”

you could only manage to let out sounds of protests, stuttering his name as your lover simply basks in your adorably flustered expression, knowing full well that he had found the love of his life in you alone.

a.n. - this may be ooc, and that’s a fair criticism to make. i have never been interested in the love and deepspace fandom (hence why you’ve never seen me in the tags before), but seeing sylus made me feel a plethora of emotions. if this oneshot is hated, rest assured this may be a one time deal, lol just kidding unless 👀

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace x reader #lnd x reader #lnd sylus #.stories

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shuaflix · 2 years ago

Text

my guardian demon sucks at his job (not clickbait)

❝ look, i accidentally summoned jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the olive garden. ❞

PAIRING ▸ demon!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, angst, supernatural, demon au

WARNINGS ▸ not so biblically accurate, profanity, slowburn, found family, inspirations from mythology and h. p. lovecraft, lots of banter, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, palming, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), mc is painfully horny, ft. demon!shua and demon!wonwoo

SUMMARY ▸ just when you thought your luck couldn't get any worse, you accidentally manage to summon an ancient demon prince named jeonghan out of a scrap of paper from your statistics textbook. now, you're tasked with figuring out how to return your so-called "guardian demon" back to where he came from before he can stir up more trouble.

PLAYLIST ▸ our dawn is hotter than day by seventeen • cruel summer by taylor swift

WORD COUNT ▸ 23,610 words

TAG LIST ▸ @byunfirstlady @90s-belladonna @knucklesdeepmingi @xlovette @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hatesbutlovespeople7734 @goquokka

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i had so much fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy this one!! thank you so much for supporting my works ♡ lmk what u think!

TO BE FAIR, YOU REALLY DIDN’T EXPECT THE SPELL TO WORK.

You initially thought the scrap of paper you found in your statistics textbook was someone’s torn-up Latin homework. You borrowed the copy from the library earlier in the day, realizing that the only way you would pass your midterm would be if you actually studied. Wedged between the pages of Chapter Three - Linear Regression was the dubious piece of paper.

You thought nothing of it at first. You turned a blind eye to how it was yellowed due to age, thinking it was just left behind by accident. It didn’t even cross your mind about how strange it was that someone left their Latin homework in a statistics textbook.

There was no real reason why you read the words aloud. You thought it could act as some sort of good luck charm—something that could manifest good grades on your exams—but you ended up with the exact opposite.

The paper started glowing, but it wasn’t bright light; a void of pitch darkness emitted from the scrap instead. Mind you, it was nearly the middle of the night. It was already dark, but your room was starting to look like you had opened up a schism in space.

You dropped the paper in the middle of the room instinctively, hissing lightly at how it nearly froze your fingers off. Your room’s temperature dropped by several degrees, and if you weren’t internally freaking out about the random black hole in the middle of your room, you would have curled up in your blankets.

This was one hell of a karmic retribution for slacking on your work for half the semester.

You could hardly see the paper, but you could see faint smoke coming from the middle of the source. It seeped along your bedroom floor, and you contemplated calling your roommate for help before realizing that you, in fact, had no roommate and lived alone.

From there, the paper seemed to crumple up and dissipate into thin air. Instead, a shadowy figure emerged from the smoke. You were not religious by any means, but you felt like this was probably the best time to start praying to whatever higher power was out there.

Light returned to the room once the darkness and smoke faded away. You could now make out the entity’s figure more clearly, noting how it towered over you with sharp horns sticking out from its tuft of hair. Once you could see well enough to make out its face, you were met with what you thought was a human, though the horns and red eyes were throwing you in for a loop.

Humans often had four different psychological responses to traumatic or stressful experiences:

Fight: facing any perceived threat head-on.

Flight: running away from the perceived threat.

Fawn: resorting to appealing to the perceived threat to avoid potential conflict.

Freeze: being unable to move or act against the perceived threat.

Being the absolute weapon of survival you were, your body chose to freeze.

The thing just stared at you until its mouth stretched into a lazy smirk. “Hey, I’m—”

In seconds, your body moved on its own. As soon as you heard the smallest sound come from the being, you grabbed your backpack that was leaning against your bed frame, and you started swinging at the entity with it.

You chose to fight.

You were no longer useless.

“Ow!” the thing winced, shrinking back with each blow. You were slightly worried about breaking your laptop inside, but you were currently prioritizing your life more. “Cut it out!”

You got a better look at this thing. He was clearly attractive with his strong jawline and dark, sleepy eyes—assuming he was even a dude in the first place. You still kept your guard up around Pretty Boy, though, considering he had just Harry Potter’d his way into your bedroom.

“Who—what are you?” you spluttered, holding your backpack up in a (hopefully) threatening way.

“Me?” Pretty Boy grinned. “I’m your demon.”

What in the Wizards of Waverly Place was this man talking about? You stared blankly at the guy before taking a careful step backward. Of course, there were far too many supernatural elements packed into the last minute for you to completely shut down the idea, but it sounded downright crazy. This was something that only happened in books and movies, and they weren’t supposed to be hot!

“A… a demon? From Hell?”

“Yes, that’s usually where demons tend to be from.”

Great, this “demon” was a smart-ass, too.

“What’s a demon?” you asked. It took you a few moments to realize that you had, in fact, asked an extremely stupid question. Of course you knew what a demon was; you didn’t have to be a religious studies major to know about all the Jesus and Satan lore.

“I’m glad you asked,” said demon started, although he didn’t seem to be glad at all. “There are demons that should be summoned, and there are demons that should not be summoned. Can you guess which one I am?”

“Uh…” You deliberated carefully. “You’re a demon that can be summoned.”

“Wrong!” Pretty Boy answered. “I’m a demon that shouldn’t be summoned, so I need you to explain how on Earth you summoned me.��

“I—I thought you said you were my demon.”

“I am,” he said, “because most demons can only be summoned by their designated human, which you did, but I, of all demons, am not meant to be summoned and trapped in this realm! How in Lucifer’s name did you summon me, human?”

You held up a hand to keep him from charging forward at you. “First of all, my name is Y/N. Shouldn’t you be familiar with your own human’s name? Second of all, what do you mean by ‘designated human’?”

Pretty Boy sighed. “I’m supposed to be your assigned demon.”

You frowned. “Supposed to be?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve kind of been neglecting you. Totally forgot your name and everything.” He hummed inquisitively. “Remind me of it again?”

“Y/N,” you repeated carefully, slightly offended. “What the hell is an assigned demon?”

“If I tell you,” he started in a somber tone, and you hung onto every word, worrying at your lip and fearing something dreadful would happen, “then it’s no fun.”

He had to be fucking with you.

“No fun?” you questioned. “Are you kidding?”

“I happen to be very serious,” he answered, “and I’m getting the feeling that you’re a bit of a kill-joy, human.”

“Listen,” you spat, “I have a stats midterm tomorrow, so you better start talking before I get back to studying and ignore you.”

“Fine,” he complied. “Think of it, like… a guardian demon.”

“Damn.” You looked up at him with wide eyes. “If I give you my soul, can you help me pass my midterm?”

“That’s not quite how it works, and I may be a demon, but that’s a pretty stupid request in exchange for your soul,” he deadpanned. “Okay, now tell me how you summoned me.”

Your gaze dropped to the spot on the floor where the black void opened up. You recalled the slip of paper disintegrating into thin air once the demon appeared. You were certain that was the key to this bizarre merging of two realms.

“Uh,” you said, “there was a piece of paper with some Latin written on it. You appeared after I read the words out loud.”

And after turning your room into an arctic tundra.

Pretty Boy’s face fell upon your words. You were shocked that the demon looked so crest-fallen all of a sudden, and it was making you feel a bit guilty for dragging him out of Hell.

You decided to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I am not okay, I am Yoon Jeonghan, one of the seven princes of Hell,” he started angrily, causing you to take a cautious step backward. “I am Greed, the creator of alchemy, forger of the Twin Blade, constructor of the—” The demon cut himself off when you held up a fist to your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. “W-what? What’s so funny, human?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, accidentally letting a giggle slip from your lips, “but there’s no way some pretty face like you is a demon prince.”

“I emerged from an opening in the ground, and you still refuse to believe I’m a demon?”

“Well—”

“Human, do you know why a ‘pretty face’ like me is a demon prince?” Pretty Demon Boy a.k.a Jeonghan inquired, stepping closer until you were backed up against your desk. “The King of all demons himself was once considered the most beautiful of all angels. Why?” With three fingers, he tilted your chin up enough for you to take a good look at him—at the swirling dark red in his eyes. “Because demons represent temptation.”

“Temptation,” you echoed, embarrassed that your voice came out more strangled than intended. “Yeah, well, I’m really tempted to kick your ass back to Hell right now.”

You supposed he was onto something, in a sense. Maybe Jeonghan was telling the truth because you couldn’t focus on anything else but how his lips were nearing yours. It was as if your senses had completely clouded over.

Upon your words, however, he dropped his gaze and pulled away from you. Jeonghan looked saddened, which was a sight you had not expected from the smug-faced demon. You weren’t educated on demon lore or anything, but you were quite surprised that they were capable of feeling such human emotions.

“There are ways demons can be summoned,” he said in a somber voice. “If we are summoned by our names, then we can appear and promptly return to Hell. Incantations, though, are tricky; with negligence, there is a possibility that I’m stuck here.”

“Stuck here?” you asked, raising your voice. “What do you mean? You can’t go back?”

“Well, do you remember the words on that piece of paper?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t have a way of going back, dumbass.”

You huffed. “I didn’t know a demon prince could have the vocabulary of a middle school boy.”

“We can speak any language on this planet and adapt to modern slang,” he explained. “I can also speak dolphin. Wanna hear?”

“No, let’s circle back to getting you back to Hell,” you shut him down before he started using echolocation. “There has to be some other way, right?”

“We have a few options, actually,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. You cringed at the thought of the intruder making himself at home, but you supposed you were the one who got him in this mess, anyway. It wouldn’t be smart for you to boss him around, especially since he could overtake you easily. “Either you remember the incantation, or… actually, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

“So, we only have one option?” you clarified. “I have the memory of a goldfish, so I think you’re fucked.” You scratched your neck in thought. “Can’t you call one of your demon buddies to bring you back?”

“Demon buddies?” He laughed coldly. “We aren’t exactly buddy-buddy down there.”

“Then why do you wanna go back so bad?”

“This materialized human form of mine will not last me very long,” he replied gravely, though you weren’t quite convinced the horns and red eyes were doing him any favors. “Normally, I could be up here for as long as I want, but my powers are weak right now. I will eventually perish like this, unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless I kill an angel.”

After your morbid conversation with Jeonghan, you decided you would deal with the issue after your midterm. The demon insisted that he would not be able to leave your side since you summoned him, so that led to him sleeping on your floor. To your horror, he was pleasantly satisfied with this sleeping arrangement, claiming it was “better than being boiled alive in oil.”

His bedroom in Hell didn’t sound very cozy.

The next morning, you woke to an email notification that your midterm had been canceled. Something about your professor falling sick out of nowhere.

You wanted to rejoice, but you couldn’t help but feel that this was because of Jeonghan. This was probably the whole “guardian demon” thing, but he was causing chaos and disorder to get you what you wanted. It left an uneasy feeling, but, regardless, you were satisfied with not taking an exam.

Anyway, why was Jeonghan, self-proclaimed prince of demons, assigned to be your guardian? When you turned in your bed to see him sitting at your desk and staring at your textbook, you asked him the question that was bugging you.

He scoffed and replied, “I don’t know. Luck?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is it really lucky that a demon prince was assigned to me? Sounds a little unnerving.”

“That just means you have a powerful demon on your side.” He smirked and leaned in to ask, “Were you happy to see your midterm canceled this morning?”

“So it was you!” you exclaimed. “Look, I appreciate it and everything, but you can’t just make people sick to help me out.”

“I can’t?” He looked surprisingly innocent when you reprimanded him, like a seven-year-old being told not to color on the walls. “I didn’t even murder him or anything.”

“That—that’s also pretty bad,” you stammered. “Let’s not do any of that, okay?”

“But that’s no fun.”

“This isn’t about having fun! These are people’s lives. How would you feel if I harmed one of the other demon princes for fun?”

“That’s hot. I’d probably cum in my pants.”

“Okay, maybe that was a bad example,” you grumbled. “Is there anyone you care about down there?”

“Not down there, not up here,” he replied. “I’m a demon, remember? There’s no one who cares for me, so I don’t care for anyone either.”

“Wow,” you said. “You could be the poster boy for 2012 Tumblr angst.”

“I’ll pretend I understood that, human.”

There was something bothering you, though. Jeonghan’s words last night about killing an angel were parroting in your head. You couldn’t shake off the guilt that he could potentially die on Earth because of you, but it felt immoral to kill an angel to return to his prison in Hell. On the other hand, you couldn’t bear to see him perish because of you.

“How long do you have?” you asked. “You know… to live.”

“Hm… I’d say about 718 years?”

“Oh, what the fuck? You’re chilling.”

“In Hell time.”

You frowned. “How long is that in Earth years?”

Jeonghan’s gaze flew to the ceiling as he tried to calculate the math in his head, using his fingers to count off. “That’s about half an Earth year, so, like, six months.”

“Oh no,” you replied in absolute dread, “and you’re still planning on killing an angel?”

“If that’s the only way to save me—yes.”

“Well, how do you even find one?”

“I can sense their presence,” he said before standing up. “Come on, human. You’ll have to show me around your world so that I can remember the mortal way of life.”

“I guess, but first”—you stopped him by raising your hand—“you’ll have to get rid of those horns.”

Once Jeonghan concealed his horns and changed his eyes to a more socially acceptable color, you gave him the green light to go outside. He looked good like this, but he was attracting too much attention. The demon simply had too big of an ego to tone down the attractiveness, so you were stuck walking around with a chick magnet.

“You’re a demon,” you whispered harshly. “You’re telling me you don’t have any ugly forms?”

Jeonghan sighed. “That is the unfortunate curse of a demon. We can’t help that our beauty is so blinding.”

You wanted to punch him. The boiling oil prison bed wasn’t a curse, but this was?

“Well, people are staring, and it’s making me uncomfortable. I’ve never been the center of attention—or, well, around the center of attention.”

“Then would you like me to gouge out their eyeballs with a dagger?”

“No!” you yelled. “No, there will be no gouging of eyeballs!”

You started going off on your Murder Is Normally Socially Unacceptable And Wrong tangent up until you realized that Jeonghan was no longer next to you. Fear shot up your spine right before you spotted him standing in front of an Olive Garden that you two had walked past earlier.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing?” you asked, frowning. “Let’s keep walking.”

“Human,” he said, clearly ignoring your words, “take me into this restaurant.”

“You’re hungry?” When he nodded, you sighed and complied, saying, “Alright, then, I’ll pay.”

You were worried that the demon wouldn’t behave properly, but, to your surprise, he stood to the side and let you do the talking. You found his shy smile strangely endearing, especially when he tilted his head after the waitress asked if you two were a couple.

“Yes,” he answered before you could shut it down. “We’ve come in a pair.”

You forced a laugh, glancing at the waitress to make sure she didn’t think you two were absolute nutjobs. Well, you supposed it had no effect on you if your psychotic demon was perceived as one, but you were 100% normal across the board. Thankfully, the waitress laughed it off and asked if either of you wanted anything to drink.

You smiled. “Just water, please.”

“Do you have any blood?” Jeonghan asked at the same time.

Your head shot up to see his furrowed brows as he tried to decipher the Italian dishes on the menu. At this point, you were mortified and could positively say that you were not taking Jeonghan outside after this. You’d rather be stuck in his boiling oil prison than be put through this torment.

“B-Bloody Mary?” the waitress asked.

“Oh, is this Mary providing the blood? I don’t really care to know who exactly she is, but I appreciate the—”

“Yeah, he meant a Bloody Mary,” you cut in loudly, putting on a sugary sweet smile for her. You turned to the demon with a warning look in your eyes, but you kept up the playful act as you chided, “Jeonghan! I told you to quit with the pranks here!”

“Oh, you two are so funny,” the waitress gushed. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“Thank you!” you chirped. When she was out of sight, you dropped your fake smile so you could kick the living crap out of the demon’s shin. He winced and raised a brow at you. “What made you think you could ask for blood at a restaurant?”

Jeonghan scoffed. “I’m a demon.”

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t have guessed from the hundred times you’ve mentioned it.”

“I can’t eat this food.” Jeonghan put the menu down and ran his fingers down the list of options. “Well, I suppose I could stomach it for sustenance, but it won’t satisfy my hunger.”

“Then what do you need to eat?” you asked, expecting to hear something morbid.

“Well, human blood or flesh would help,” he said. Just as you thought—morbid. Then, after a moment of thought, he added, “or… I’d need to have sex.”

“S-sex?!” you exclaimed. You tried not to choke on air, which failed about five seconds later. Never in your life did you expect hellbound demons to be so lecherous. Well, it made perfect sense, but it was still odd to think about. “You’re telling me the only way you can be fed is by cannibalism or sex?”

“Cannibalism is a strong word.”

“Cannibalism is the only word for people who eat other people!”

“I’m not a person,” he defended. “I’m a demon. I believe you humans call this ‘the food cycle,’ am I right?”

You leaned back in your seat to groan into your hands. “I guess we’re just gonna have to find a way to get you back before you get too hungry. How long can you go without food?”

“Probably forever if I was in Hell,” Jeonghan said, “but I feel really hungry.”

“Is this some ulterior motive to get into my pants?”

Jeonghan barked out a laugh. “Human, do you know who the Seven Deadly Sins are?”

“Sort of? I’ve seen the anime.”

“They’re the seven human vices, and I’m Greed,” he explained. “Other than me, there’s Lust, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, Gluttony, and Pride. Many say that Pride is the worst of them all, but I am destructive at every level. Greed is what breaks a person down and then brings them to destroy the world around them.”

His voice was pitched deeper when he continued, “Greed is the sin that can never be satisifed.”

“O-okay,” you said carefully, “so why are you telling me this?”

“I’m telling you this because you’re pretty naive for someone who summoned a demon as powerful as I am,” he replied calmly. “I’m Greed, so of course that was an ulterior motive to get into your pants.”

Oh.

Awkward.

You weren’t sure if you were blushing because Jeonghan was hot or because no man had ever been so direct with you. For what it was worth, you were positive that the warm feeling in your chest wasn’t because you were flattered or anything. Being asked for sex in the middle of a restaurant wasn’t hot in the slightest bit, and especially after he proceeded to mansplain how he was a manipulative, conniving bastard.

“Don’t feel pressured,” he said.

Although those were the words that came out of his mouth, you could feel the impatience seeping from him. However, it had you thinking that this could become some sort of transaction. You would surely feel used if you let him get what he wanted so easily, but you would definitely be swayed if there was something in it for you. Plus, Jeonghan was unmistakably attractive, which was probably simply the devil’s temptation getting to you.

“If I let you satisfy your hunger… um, sexually,” you started, “then I want something in return.”

A mischievous glint flashed in his dark eyes. “Oh? You’re making things fun, human.”

You felt something hot roiling deep inside your core, making you nearly lose your breath for a moment. The effect he had on you was otherworldly. (You supposed this checked out considering he himself was otherworldly.)

Before you could lay down your guidelines, a voice called from behind, “Sorry, your previous waitress had something come up, so I’ll be taking your orders for your meal. My name’s—whoa, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened. “Seokmin! Oh my god, you work here?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, laughing lightly at your surprise. “Is this your, uh, boyfriend?”

You met Jeonghan’s stare with an awkward smile. “N-no, we’re just friends.”

Seokmin beamed at the demon, who, to your dismay, made no effort to reciprocate. “Nice to meet you. I was in one of Y/N’s classes last semester. Where are you from?”

Jeonghan reached out to shake the hand that Seokmin held out. You knew he was blunt, but you really didn’t expect him to respond by saying, “Hell.”

You were stabbing metaphysical pitchforks into Jeonghan’s side, fighting the urge to groan into your hands. Seokmin let out a stilted laugh, pausing for a moment to give Jeonghan time to clarify. When the demon didn't, however, Seokmin probably determined that Jeonghan was messing with him.

“You’re funny,” he praised with a grin. “Anyway, can I get you two started on anything?”

Seokmin had the brightest smile you had ever seen. In fact, he seemed to glow brighter just by showing his teeth. You were almost blown away for a moment, just looking up at him and trying not to stumble over your words as he set your drinks down.

“Um,” you started after regaining your composure, “I’ll take the stuffed ziti fritta, please.”

Seokmin turned to Jeonghan, who nodded in your direction with a distracted look on his face. “Yeah, I’ll get the same.”

“Great! I’ll bring those over soon.” With that, Seokmin took both of your menus and walked off.

You smiled to yourself. “What a small world.”

“I have to kill him,” Jeonghan muttered at the same time.

“Excuse me?” you nearly cried. “Jeonghan, are you crazy? You can’t just say things like that in public!”

“Why not?”

“People are gonna think you’re a homicidal maniac! Which you are, but… at least pretend to be normal.”

“Whatever, we’re alone now.” He rolled his eyes. “Your little friend has angel blood in him.”

“What? You’re crazy.”

But then, when you took a moment to consider his words, the lines were starting to draw themselves. It was starting to make sense in your head, with Jeonghan randomly stopping in the middle of the street, as if he was drawn to the restaurant. There was also Seokmin, who almost had an aura of light radiating from him.

Of course, there was the possibility that the demon was speaking nonsense and trying to get in your head. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to deceive you, but there was no reason for him to lie. Jeonghan needed an angel to live longer, so he wouldn’t waste his time dealing with those who weren’t of use.

You asked, “How can you tell if he’s an angel or not?”

“I’m a demon. I can sense these things,” he answered, “but I’m sure you can see some of it, too. You saw how he glowed a bit? Maybe even made you feel a little happy out of nowhere?”

It was true that Seokmin’s smile made you forget all of your worries for a second. You thought his radiance was just contagious, but this sort of made sense now that you were semi-familiar with the supernatural. If angels were able to make people feel contented, though, did that mean demons had the opposite effect?

That could probably explain why Jeonghan got on your nerves so easily.

You leaned over the table a little, whispering, “Wouldn’t he know what you are, then?”

“Doubt he knows it himself. He’s a Quartarion—quarter angel. I bet he doesn’t even know he has wings.”

“So… you can’t use him, right? You need an angel, and he’s mostly human.”

“No, I could kill him, actually,” he replied. “I just need to kill an angel-blood. In fact, killing a Quartarion instead of a pure-blood would make my job a lot easier.”

You felt trapped. It wasn’t like you were in any position to argue about Jeonghan’s decisions, considering it was your fault he was in this state. However, you felt sick to your stomach over getting blood on your hands because of him. Even if you weren’t the one killing Seokmin, it was indirectly your fault.

“You are not killing him,” you said firmly.

“What?” Jeonghan almost sounded like a child. “Not even a little?”

“You can’t kill someone a little.”

“Well, maybe if I sliced his—”

“Okay! Be normal, be normal, be normal,” you chanted, trying to get him to hone in some morals. “No murder, no cannibalism, no—”

“Two stuffed ziti frittas!” Seokmin chirped, shutting you up effectively. You swallowed thickly as he set the plates down in front of you and Jeonghan. “Can I get you two anything else?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jeonghan spoke up, a sly grin spreading across his face, “are you free this week?”

Poor, poor Seokmin, you thought miserably.

Jeonghan managed to sweet-talk Seokmin into hanging out with you two later in the week. The very idea was absurd, considering you and Seokmin have only spoken about five times. You thought the demon used some sort of demon power to get Seokmin to comply, but Jeonghan later told you that he was just naturally charismatic.

You decided to deal with the Seokmin issue later, though. Now, you had another problem at hand: the proposal you initiated earlier.

Currently, Jeonghan had you pinned up against your door, his head dipping low so that he could look into your eyes despite your efforts to avert your gaze. Jesus, you knew this was a terrible idea, but every nerve in your body was telling you to just go with it.

He hummed. “What was your offer?”

“This isn’t very guardian demon of you,” you squeaked out.

“I just can’t kill you,” he said. “Sex is still on the table.”

This piqued your interest. “Wait… you’re not allowed to kill me?”

That just made you feel like he would’ve murdered you already if he had the chance.

“I could try, but I physically can’t harm you. I can harm others for you, though,” he said. “Now let’s go back to that offer you were going to make.”

“Let me clarify,” he continued, “it’s not the act of intercourse that feeds me, it’s your taste.”

He was basically saying that he needed to eat you out. You would be lying if you said you were opposed to the idea. You weren’t sure if it was the whole devil’s temptation thing or whatever, but you found yourself wanting to just let Jeonghan have his way with you.

You sucked in a sharp breath. Back at the restaurant, you weren’t ready to lay down any guidelines for the exchange. However, it was clear to you now.

“I’ll agree as long as you don’t kill Seokmin.”

The demon pulled away from you, frowning. “Why can’t I kill him?”

“He’s my… friend,” you tried.

“He appears to share a deeper connection with me, a complete stranger, than he does with you, an established acquaintance.”

Okay, ouch. That stung.

“Okay, he’s not really my friend,” you admitted, “but it’ll make me feel really guilty if you kill him. I know you need to kill an angel-blood to get back, but there has to be another way, right?”

Jeonghan’s voice was pitched lower when he said, “I don’t know about that.” Silence hung heavy in the air for a few moments before he spoke up again, “Fine. I’ll accept your offer. I won’t kill Seokmin for now, but I can’t promise that in the future if I’m left with no other choice.”

That was probably the best you were going to get out of him, so you nodded in agreement. “Deal.”

Before the demon could reply, you shimmied down your shorts, kicking them off your ankles, and then you sat back on your bed. You pressed your thighs together, waiting for him to come forward and take the lead.

Jeonghan just stared at you, jaw gone slack.

“What?” you asked with a frown. Slowly, embarrassment started to heat up your cheeks. “You don’t wanna do it anymore?”

“Human, I feel a bit strange doing this with the stuffed animals lined up on your bed.”

“I just had to convince you not to murder my classmate a minute ago, and you draw the line at this?” You sighed in exasperation. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Jeonghan just moved closer until he was right in front of you. He pushed your legs apart, surprisingly gentle, and he reached his hand between your legs so that he could prod at the thin material of your underwear at the apex of your legs. You shivered instantly at his touch, grabbing his sleeve when you felt your core ache for more.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, observing how wet you were getting with his gentle touches. “You seem to enjoy bickering with me a little too much, human.”

“T-that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” The question sounded genuine, but the smirk on Jeonghan’s face was unmistakable. You swallowed hard as his free hand traveled up your thigh slowly, inching further and further until he tugged your underwear down past your thighs. You kicked it off your ankles while he started to position you properly on your bed. “What’s ridiculous is having these adorable playthings watching us.”

You turned your head to see your Sanrio MyMelody Squishmallow staring at you with its big, empty eyes and mocking smile. It almost felt like you were being judged by your own plushie.

Okay, you were starting to get why it was capable of freaking a demon out.

You propped yourself up on your forearm and rose up enough to grab your Squishmallow by its bow and turn it around. Now that it was facing the wall, you strangely felt more at ease.

“Okay, now you can go,” you said with a grin.

Jeonghan scoffed, amused. “Thanks.”

“You’re wel—oh,” you moaned, pressing a fist to your mouth when you felt Jeonghan’s tongue work its way between your folds. “Give me a warning next time, damn.”

He paused for a moment to look up at you, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes. “You’re already thinking about the next time, huh?”

“Just shut up and keep doing your thing.” When he raised a brow at you, you added a frantic, “Please?”

This moment may have been the first time Jeonghan had complied so quickly. He got to work right away, gripping your hips and licking a stripe along your cunt. You arched your back once you heard him groan at the taste of your arousal, and the demon had to push you back down to make sure you weren’t fidgeting too much.

You turned your head to the side, digging your chin into the mattress as Jeonghan’s tongue rolled around your clit in torturous motions. You were fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure because you knew you would never hear the end of it from him. Eventually, though, the feeling overtook your pride, and you let yourself moan for more.

Jeonghan was insatiable. That probably came with being a demon, especially when he represented the sin of greed.

But, the thing was, you didn’t expect him to be so mind-blowingly good.

Your sounds must have spurred him because Jeonghan gripped your thighs harder and ate you out with more fervor. It was a back-arching level of pleasure, but he forced you down every time you tried to squirm. When his tongue snaked past your folds, flicking against the walls of your cunt, you truly understood the sheer power of temptation.

Jeonghan didn’t neglect one inch of your core, flattening his tongue so he could cover the surface completely. He switched from plunging his tongue into your cunt to licking long stripes along your slit so quickly that your vision was starting to curl at the edges. You felt like you were going crazy when you grinded your hips against his tongue and felt his smirk.

No man had ever made you feel this good—no, you were positive that no man could ever make you feel this good. Even Jeonghan’s nose brushing against your clit made you feel like you were combusting.

He brought you to the edge so quickly, and you wondered if you had even made yourself orgasm so fast before. The sensation left your legs shaking around his neck and your head turned to the side in a desperate attempt to hold back your moans. You managed to let out strangled whimpers that left Jeonghan chuckling once he pulled away.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you felt a touch disappointed when you looked up at him. There was absolutely no hint of a boner tenting his pants.

“I’d ask,” Jeonghan started with a smirk, “but I can already tell you liked it by the way you were moaning for me.”

You raised yourself onto your elbows, huffing a little. “What about you? Are your powers back now?”

“It doesn’t exactly work like that.” Jeonghan patted his stomach, satisfied. “I’m full, though.”

“Interesting.” You left it there, not wanting to divulge further into his demon diet. “So, you don’t ever have sex for pleasure? Just when you’re hungry?”

“I don’t care for pleasure all that much.”

“Figured,” you mumbled. “Anyway, I’m going to sleep.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, I’m tired. Wake me up in a few hours if I’m not already up.”

“Sure. I’ll go do human things and not kill people.”

“Keep up the good work.”

When Jeonghan left your room, you pulled the covers up to your chin and let out a long sigh. The feeling was fleeting, but long enough for you to take notice. A gentle quickening of your heartbeat and a warm feeling in your chest.

You pushed it down as a brief moment of confusion.

Living with Jeonghan felt like having a guard dog that you kept off its leash.

Not only did you have to stop him from attempting murder on several occasions, but, on the flip side, you also had to warn him about being too nice to make up for his twisted imagination. Jeonghan was far too attractive to be human, and from the numerous times you went outside with him, you realized that he drew too much attention. You were left standing to the side idly while he was chatted up by the umpteenth random girl that wanted his number.

Over the past week, you ended up explaining a lot of things to the demon. Going into depth about the criminal justice system was your favorite because Jeonghan looked flabbergasted by the levels of punishment they had.

(“A six month sentence for theft?” he asked with a frown. “That’s absurd. I got eternity in Hell while being boiled alive in oil!”

“Well, what was your crime?” you asked.

“Uh…”)

Once, you even found him staring at the TV screen with a somber expression on his face. You had never seen Jeonghan so visibly upset, so you asked him what was going on, only to be even more confused when he explained that his pet died. You suspected the demon’s pet to be a hellhound or something. Never did you expect him to pull up a picture of Mount Fuji.

(“His name was Doljjong,” he explained sadly. “He was only 1,359 years old when he erupted for the last time.”

Apparently, Mount Fuji was now extinct. In Jeonghan’s crazy demon lingo, that meant it died.

“You basically had a pet rock, dude.”

“He was more than a rock in my heart.”)

You also had to adjust to living with another man in the house. Thankfully, Jeonghan wasn’t messy or as disgusting as you had expected, but you still had to adjust to some of his living habits that took you by surprise.

For one, Jeonghan preferred showering in scorching hot water. This would not bother you if you hadn’t been dragged into the shower with him on one occasion, which he didn’t seem to think was improper at all. While you were trying not to look at his (beautifully-chiseled) naked body, he was urging you to help him turn down the cold water. As soon as your skin made contact with the water, though, you couldn’t stand the scalding heat.

Strangely enough, although the thought of having a demon in your house terrified you, it was kind of fun to live with him. You liked having someone around that could keep up with your antics, someone who challenged your thirst for argument. Jeonghan was the perfect match for you, and maybe that was why he was your assigned demon.

You finally decided to give him your old phone. It was supposed to be a hand-me-down for your younger brother, but your parents ended up getting him a new one. Since Jeonghan was pretty much ancient, you figured he wouldn’t mind an old phone.

“I want an iPhone 14 Pro Max.”

“What?!” you exclaimed as he took the used iPhone 8 from you, inspecting the home button with a frown. “How do you even know what that is?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, human.” He scoffed. “I don’t care for outdated possessions.”

Oh, right. Greed.

“Well, if you’re gonna live in my house, then you’re gonna learn to be grateful for what you’ve got.”

“Wait.” Jeonghan paused, looking between you and the phone about three times before he asked, “Can I contact Seokmin with this?”

“Uh, yeah, but—”

“Give me his number,” the demon insisted.

“Jeonghan! You said you weren’t going to kill him!”

“I never said I was going to kill him,” he said, “but I did invite him to hang out, so I should follow up on the offer. Didn’t you tell me that keeping promises is important?”

Ah, right. He was using one of the rules from Y/N’s Guide To Being Human against you. You saw this coming, though; you were no stranger to Jeonghan’s manipulation tactics by now.

“Keeping promises are important, but leading someone on is also wrong,” you chided. “Do not text him if you plan on hurting him in any way.”

He let out a petulant whine before agreeing, “Okay, okay, I won’t.” He thrusted the phone in your direction. “Give me his number, though.”

You bit your lip before you complied. “Fine.”

A few days later, when you had just gotten back from getting lunch with your best friend, Park Sooyoung, you entered your apartment to see Seokmin sitting on the couch.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. You were so startled that you couldn’t even process how furious you were with Jeonghan for inviting him without informing you. “Hey, Seokmin. What’re you doing here?”

The older boy flashed a kind smile. “Sorry to intrude. Jeonghan invited me. I think he’s in the bathroom right now.” He pointed in the direction of where Jeonghan went, and then he said, “I had no idea you two were roommates!”

You recalled last week when you asked Jeonghan if demons had to use the bathroom like humans did. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine it at all. The demon answered that he didn’t have to do such things in his own dimension, but his body was subjected to the same biological system as humans on Earth.

“Ah, yes. Roommates.” You forced a laugh, trying to not sound bitter. So that was the narrative Jeonghan cooked up. Honestly, you were just glad he said something normal. “He didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Seokmin said.

Meanwhile, it was just Jeonghan. Well, on second thought, he was kind of right.

“What’re you doing at home?” the demon asked, sounding more accusatory than welcoming. “I thought you were getting lunch with your friend.”

“And we finished lunch,” you answered. “What’re you and Seokmin doing?”

“We were gonna watch a movie,” he said. “The Notebook, I think?”

Your anger fizzled. Now, you felt like you were interrupting something.

“Do you wanna watch it with us, Y/N?” Seokmin asked, voice all sugary and light.

You found it way too hard to refuse him, so you sat down on the couch next to Jeonghan. Every time Seokmin spoke, you felt your nerves ease up. However, coupled with Jeonghan’s presence, you were undergoing a never-ending state of easing and tensing up again.

“By the way, why’d you guys pick The Notebook?” you inquired.

“Oh, ‘cause Jeonghan hasn’t seen it yet,” Seokmin replied, looking distracted as the film started playing.

Jeonghan hadn’t seen a lot of movies. It wasn’t like there were limited options to choose from.

Thankfully, the lights were off while the movie played, masking how bored you looked for its duration. You were convinced Jeonghan wasn’t enjoying it either considering he started up about ten different conversations unrelated to the movie. Seokmin, being the sweetheart he was, responded to him enthusiastically as he watched. You, on the other hand, were sulking on the other side of the couch and praying for this to be over because you felt like a third wheel.

You almost didn’t notice the mood shift when the kissing scene came up. Seokmin seemed to feel a bit awkward, so he laughed and made lighthearted remarks throughout the scene. You had stiffened up and lowered your gaze, remembering once again why this was an odd choice for a movie night.

Jeonghan, though, turned his gaze to you for the duration of the scene. You could feel his eyes drift to your lips, and it made you hyperconscious of every little movement of his. Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were praying no one else could hear it, and the blood rushing in your ears drowned out the audio from the movie.

The demon dipped his head to whisper in your ear, “Frankly, human, I’m enjoying your reactions more than this movie.”

You had no idea why, but you felt something unsettling in your chest. Your heart felt like it was going a hundred miles a minute, but not in a good way; the organ twisted painfully in your chest.

You had no idea why.

Seokmin came around a few more times over the next four weeks. You found yourself feeling less like a third wheel over time, and you were finally comfortable hanging around the both of them. Movie nights became more common, although The Notebook seemed to be so traumatizing that Seokmin and Jeonghan only watched horror and sci-fi movies now.

You were honestly surprised that Jeonghan hadn’t made any moves to kill Seokmin, but you were happy that he honored your agreement. The two of you had gotten closer—or, well, as close as a demon and a human could get. He still called you “human,” but you were banking on him calling you by your name at least once. Moreover, Jeonghan wasn’t completely convincing just yet, but he was starting to learn how to act like a proper human. (There were the occasional murder threats that you had to fend off, though.)

Jeonghan found himself between your legs nearly every other day. You feared that you would get too comfortable, but he still made you orgasm every single time. It was strange, to say the least. You knew demons weren’t capable of feeling anything remotely romantic, but your heart was still acting like a fool, twisting painfully whenever he pulled away.

Today, Jeonghan had followed you to the library. He met your friend, Sooyoung, who kept gushing earlier about how she was dying to meet your new “friend.” The rest of the day went smoothly, save for Sooyoung asking you and Jeonghan if you’ve ever made out. (You shut her up with a smack upside her head.)

Back at home, Jeonghan, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, leaned his head back to look up at you. You found it strangely endearing, resisting the urge to run your hands through his soft hair.

“Did I do good today?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, “you were like a proper human—no weird demonic antics or anything.”

Jeonghan lifted his head up again, and then asked in a quiet voice, “Human, could I perhaps try something?”

The demon was asking you for permission? Strange, but you went along with it.

“Hm? What is it?”

“Let me try kissing you,” he said. His words were so clear that you couldn’t even pass them off as something you misheard. You only managed to let out a few incoherent stammers before he added, “Move your laptop. I’m getting on top of you.”

“Y-you didn’t even ask me!” you stuttered, although you were putting your stuff to the side as you spoke. “Is this about what Sooyoung asked? About if we’ve made out?”

“I’m asking you right now: yes or no?”

You frowned. It was as if all your nerves were cut wire, electrifying every limb in your body. Even though you couldn’t comprehend what came over Jeonghan and what possessed him to ask, your brain was screaming at you to just accept his offer.

“Fine, go ahead,” you murmured, feeling your face go hot when he smirked right after.

“Good,” he said. “Thank you for being my experiment.”

You couldn’t ask any further questions because Jeonghan already started moving on top of you, straddling your lap and placing his hands firmly on either side of your face. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, until he leaned down and brushed his nose against yours experimentally.

He was so close. So close that you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips. So close that you could see the gold flecks in his dark eyes.

You shuddered. There was that twist of your heart once again.

You swore you could hear his breath hitch, and you almost called it out before a crevice started opening up in the center of your living room.

“What the fuck?” you shrieked, scrambling back against the arm of the couch and holding up one of the throw pillows to defend yourself. Jeonghan had gotten off of you and stood up, eyebrows knitted into a frown. It looked like he knew what was going on, so you asked, “What is it, Jeonghan?”

It was the same void of darkness from before—the same one that Jeonghan came from. The room was freezing this time, too, and the windows had iced over. You swallowed hard, wondering if this was one of your mistakes again. You hadn’t said or done anything this time, though, so it must have been someone here for Jeonghan.

From the wisps of smoke emerged the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Or, well, second after Jeonghan.

“Mammon, you bastard.” Second-Most Beautiful Man scowled. “If this is one of your conniving plots to escape Hell, then you will face punishment worse than being boiled alive for damnation.”

You looked to your right to see Jeonghan with his arms folded across his chest. Smiling.

“Asmodeus,” your demon greeted with coldness in his tone, “you planted that scrap of paper in my human’s book, didn’t you?”

Asmodeus’ glower slowly morphed into a wicked grin. “You don’t leave any room for entertainment, do you? I came here to drag you back, anyway, so don’t be so bitter.” His red, beady eyes shifted to you. “This must be your precious human.”

Jeonghan’s voice was deeper when he warned, “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her, Asmodeus.”

“Or what?” he mocked. “What could you possibly do to me in that pathetic human body of yours? Have you gone soft already? Your powers have weakened, Mammon. Face it. You’ll die out here—no, you’re already dying.”

“What do you want?” Jeonghan snapped. “If you want me dead, then you have no need to be here.”

“I need you alive,” Asmodeus muttered, “in your true form.”

He scoffed. “I’ll just die and be reborn.”

Reborn? You straightened up at Jeonghan’s words. Why didn’t he tell you he would be reborn? Here you were, like an idiot, worrying over his possible death.

“The other five princes are requesting to see you, so—”

“Oh, why should I give a damn about the other princes?” Jeognhan fussed. “They only care about using me for their trivial schemes!”

“Jeonghan,” you spoke up loudly, and both of the demon princes turned to you with shocked looks on their faces. “If I’m interpreting this correctly… then aren’t you being offered an easy way to get back? You should take it, right?”

“Human—”

“Oh, I forgot you go by your human name here,” Asmodeus said with a chuckle. He walked toward you and reached his hand out, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Joshua, if that’s easier. I’m the demon prince of lust.”

“How do you know my name?” you asked, cautiously shaking his hand. You looked toward Jeonghan with a scowl. “Wait, how does he know my name and you didn’t?”

“My bad.”

“You’ve truly gone soft, Mammon,” Asmodeus observed. “You’re on Earth entertaining a human girl instead of doing your job back in Hell. Aren’t you the one who told the rest of us to be happy with what we’ve got in Hell?”

“My job,” Jeonghan corrected, “is rotting in Hell. My other job is taking care of my human.”

“Your allegiance is with the princes, Mammon,” Joshua hissed. “This human is insignificant—”

“Do not speak about my human with that filthy mouth of yours, Asmodeus,” Jeonghan interrupted sharply, his eyes darkening. “Tell me what you want from me and leave this place at once.”

“Pythius wants a seat with the Seven Princes.”

Jeonghan raised a brow. “He wants to rebrand to the Eight Princes? Doesn’t have as nice of a ring to it.”

“No, you idiot.” Joshua groaned. “He wants to overthrow one of the Seven Princes, which is why you need to come back. Greed must have a seat at the throne room of sins.”

“Tell him to go ahead. He can be boiled alive in my place.”

“You’re still on that? That was eons ago.” Joshua sighed. “Don’t be a fool, Mammon. If you die on Earth—sure, you’ll be reborn in Hell again, but you will still waste your time by dying on this planet.” He continued, “Think about how disastrous the situation would be if Pythius actually takes your place. You will be stripped of your title, your powers will weaken, and greed will no longer be one of the Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad, honestly.”

“Mammon,” Joshua growled. “Take this seriously. You’re acting like Belphegor with that flippant attitude of yours.”

“Ah, Belphegor.” Jeonghan turned to you with a light laugh. “I think you’d like him. He goes by Wonwoo here. Seriously, such a—”

“I will slice up each limb of that mortal body of yours, Mammon,” Joshua warned. “You’re not understanding the severity of this situation.”

“I understand it well enough now,” he replied. “So, you can leave. I’ll figure out what to do on my own. Either way, Mammon will be reborn as usual. Happy? Good, now get lost.”

Joshua sighed, frustrated. “Do you even have a way to get back, you fool?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Then I’ll be on my way,” Joshua said before his body started to tessellate out of existence, vanishing piece-by-piece into thin air. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, Mammon.”

You were the first to break the silence once the demon of lust disappeared, asking, “You’ll be reborn? So you never even had to worry about dying?”

“Demons can be killed, but they can’t die.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks. Really cleared things up for me with that.”

“Let’s just drop it.”

You couldn’t just drop it, though. “You weren’t actually imprisoned in Hell, were you?”

“I was. Sort of.” He paused. “Haven’t been for a while, to be honest.”

“Then why didn’t you go with Joshua? It doesn’t sound like he wants you back to throw you back in the lake.”

“I don’t want to be a pawn in their silly games anymore,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “It’s infuriating.”

“Then what are you gonna do? That was the easiest way for you to get back!”

“I have time, human.” Jeonghan didn’t seem to want to be pressed further, so you backed off. “Don’t worry about me.”

He walked into your room and slammed the door shut, so you settled back into the couch and hugged the throw pillow to your chest. How could you not worry? You couldn’t understand Jeonghan at all, and although you wanted to respect his decision not to go back with Joshua, you were at a crossroads; staying here was killing him. He had far too much pride to think rationally.

Plus, the longer he stayed with you, the more it stung when you realized time was running out. Fast.

The next day, Jeonghan appeared as if he was back to normal. It was odd, though, given how he was brooding yesterday. You made a conscious effort not to mention Joshua, but you knew the topic was still weighing heavy on his shoulders.

(He was insatiable once you were awake and sitting up in bed, prying your legs open and begging you for a taste. Although you had several questions for the demon, your carnal desire overtook whatever curiosity you had.

“Feeling better?” you asked cautiously.

“I’ll feel better soon. Anyway, good morning,” he purred. “You’re dripping already, human. I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your chest felt hot. “Yeah, yeah, just get to it.”

“My pleasure.”)

“Hey,” you called out later during breakfast. “I’m going out with Sooyoung tonight. Are you gonna be okay being alone at home?”

“Where are you going?” he asked instead.

You paused between your spoonfuls of cereal. “Uh, just a party.”

“I love parties,” Jeonghan said. “Will there be human sacrifices?”

You grimaced. Although your guardian demon was making impressive improvements on his transition to human life, there were still some flaws in his way of thinking. On the bright side, though, he made sure to pass his morbid comments by you before he tried them out in front of others.

“No, it’s a college party,” you replied. “The most deadly thing there will be alcohol and Old Spice.”

“Boring,” he mused before getting up from his seat and heading to the living room. “Well, be safe.”

You nearly choked on your cereal, completely forgetting to respond to his words. Did Jeonghan—Mammon, manifestation of greed, one of the Seven Princes of Hell—just tell you to be safe? You had to be hearing things.

Or, your heart offered, maybe some part of him cares about you—deep, deep down.

You pushed down the thought entirely, forcing yourself to think of other alternatives. After all, there was no possible way for a demon to feel those sorts of emotions.

It was almost midnight and Sooyoung was passed out on the couch.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you said in dismay. “We literally just got here.”

“That’s tough,” Kim Mingyu, president of Sigma Omega Nu, replied sympathetically. “At least her boyfriend’s here to take care of her. That means you need to drink more and get on her level.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Hey, that’s what college is for.”

You whined when Mingyu handed you a new cup of jungle juice. Normally, you didn’t accept drinks from strangers; Mingyu was harmless, though, and you two were well-established friends for a few years now. However, you were on your third cup of juice by now, and, if you kept it up, you were probably going to end up like Sooyoung. Since she was the one who drove you two here, though, you had to stay sober enough to find a ride home. No matter what happened, you were determined to not fall asleep on the musty frat house couch.

(It already happened once last year. You woke up the next morning to Kwon Soonyoung yelling, “Someone take a picture of Y/N sleeping on the couch I got laid on!”)

“I can’t get drunk,” you insisted. “I have to get home.” To make sure my pet demon is behaving, you wanted to add.

Mingyu let out a snicker. “Call someone to pick you up or I can ask one of the sober monitors to drop you off.”

You pondered for a moment. Technically, you could call Jeonghan. Now that he had gotten the hang of using his phone, you saw him texting Seokmin every once in a while. You were sure he would be able to pick up a call, as well.

“Fine, whatever. Hand it over.” You took the red solo cup from him and downed its contents—just under ten seconds, counted by Mingyu himself. “I’m gonna go call my friend before this starts hitting me.”

You walked out into the backyard where the music wasn’t as loud. The cool air hitting your flushed skin made you feel like you could breathe properly again, but you still weren’t walking nearly straight enough. With careful hands, you searched up Jeonghan’s number in your contacts.

Your phone rang three times before he picked up.

“Human? Are you dead?”

You frowned. “If I was dead, how would I be calling you?”

“I was hoping I could keep your soul around as my pet in Hell,” he said.

You must have had some sort of degradation kink by this point because that comment was not supposed to make you feel butterflies in your stomach. It was time for you to consider therapy.

You cut straight to the point. “Can you come to the party?”

“What? No.”

His refusal normally would’ve stung, but you were too tipsy to back down now. “Please? Sooyoung already passed out and her boyfriend’s taking care of her. I’m getting drunk all by myself now.”

Sort of an exaggeration. You were going to use every card up your sleeve.

“Then walk home.”

“I can’t. Home’s too far to walk.”

“Then sleep over at whoever’s house you’re at.”

“It’s a house full of frat boys. Their living conditions are probably worse than yours down in Hell.”

“Then sober up.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my guardian demon?!”

“If you want an angel to come rescue you, I would try Seokmin’s number.”

You let out a groan and crouched down, letting your head hang between your knees. This was fruitless; Jeonghan was stubborn as a mule, and you were getting nowhere with this conversation.

But this wasn’t just about getting someone to take you home. You certainly had other options, so you could hang up on Jeonghan right now and find someone else to drive you back. However, you just didn’t want to admit out loud that you wanted to see Jeonghan. You wanted him to come over and take care of you, even though that was impossible for the demon.

You were just foolish.

“Fine, Jeonghan,” you snapped. Your head started to feel fuzzy, and you were quickly losing control over your own tongue. “I’ll get home all by myself. I’ll walk home in the cold, dark night, and hell, I’ll even walk on the road if I feel like it. Maybe I’ll lay down and take a nap if I get really tired, and if I can’t even make it to the door, I’ll just sleep in Mingyu’s bed—” You didn’t realize you were pacing until you hit a solid surface. “Ow—wait, what the hell?”

Jeonghan, in the flesh, sighed heavily and hung up the call in front of you. “Human, you’re really such a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“H-how’d you get here?” you asked, your cheeks starting to feel hot. “Did you teleport or whatever again? Didn’t you say that eats up your power? Are you—”

The demon clamped a hand over your mouth. “I materialized here, and yes, it eats up the little power I have left,” he whispered harshly, “but you wouldn’t stop running your mouth, so here I am. How could you get intoxicated so easily?”

“Well… I’ve been here for about an hour,” you defended. “It doesn’t take that much for me to get drunk. I’m pretty lightweight.”

“How much did you have?”

“Like, three cups of jungle juice.”

“Jungle… juice?”

You snorted. “This one’s got vodka, rum, and fruit punch. It’s pretty good.”

“Three cups?” Jeonghan asked with a scoff. “I forget that humans have such weak tolerances for alcohol. I can drink eight bottles of wine without getting drunk.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. You dragged the demon inside the frat house, not giving him the chance to take in and process his surroundings. You poured him a cup of jungle juice in the kitchen and handed it to him. “Drink up, then.”

Jeonghan raised a brow at you before chugging down the liquid like water. He handed it back to you with a light smirk playing on his lips.

“Are you sure there’s even alcohol in this concoction?” he asked, barking out a laugh. “Human, you’re too cute. This is nothing for a powerful demon like…” he trailed off, looking down at his feet and letting out a soft exhale. “My chest feels hot.”

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, stopping yourself from bursting out into laughter. This sight was absolutely priceless. You didn’t think you would ever be able to see Jeonghan so vulnerable.

“Are you drunk off one cup of jungle juice?” you asked, and, at this point, you weren’t able to stifle your laughter. “Oh my god!”

“Shut up, human,” he grumbled. He blinked a few times and held onto the edge of the counter. “I’ve never felt this way before. My body isn’t used to having a human’s biological system.”

“Whoa, this guy is fucked,” Lee Chan retorted, showing up out of nowhere. “He’s talking like something out of I, Robot.”

You rolled your eyes at his pop culture reference, but Jeonghan didn’t seem to follow at all. For all the movies he and Seokmin had been watching, you were surprised that they didn’t get around to this one.

“Robot,” Jeonghan mumbled, moving to lean against you. You grabbed his arm and tried to hold him steady, but he just wrapped his arms around you and let his head rest on your shoulder. “I feel like I’ve just been expelled into the Outerverse with Yog-Sothoth. Ah, fuck, those guys owe me…”

You had to get Jeonghan out of here fast. Before he started speaking crazy demon lingo again.

“Are you sober monitoring tonight?” you asked Chan. “You think you could drive us home?”

“Yeah, sure,” Chan agreed with a smile. Gauging that Jeonghan wasn’t responsive enough to answer any questions, the frat boy decided to ask you, “Did you bring a friend from another school, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you mumbled. “This is Jeonghan.”

Chan ducked his head to get a good look at Jeonghan’s face. “Nice to meet you, Jeonghan.”

“Hi, Robot.”

“No, my name’s not Robot.”

Jeonghan’s biggest weakness wound up being seatbelts.

You and Chan had to fight him down to get him to sit down properly in the back seat. Since he was fussing too much, you decided to sit with Chan up front, letting Jeonghan moan and grumble incoherently in the back.

(“Unchain me, human,” the demon kept whining. “I refuse to be imprisoned in the mortal realm.”

When he was stopped at a red light, Chan threw a glance over his shoulder before telling you, “I think your friend watches too much anime.”

“He’s going through a phase,” you lied.)

While you made light conversation with the frat brother, you felt like your guardian demon was glaring daggers at the poor boy. You wanted to smack him upside the head for his rudeness despite Chan’s generous act.

You craned your neck to look back at Jeonghan, shooting him a warning look. He simply scoffed and looked the other way, although he ended up resting his head against the window once he realized his world was still spinning.

“Come on, Jeonghan,” you murmured once Chan parked the car in front of your place. “Get up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

You tugged the sleeve of his shirt impatiently. “What? Why?”

“Not going back with someone who ignores me.”

Your jaw nearly went slack. Was he jealous? Yoon Jeonghan, Prince of Greed, was jealous over frat boy Lee Chan? Over something so miniscule as you sitting in the passenger’s seat? This was definitely something you were going to hold over the demon’s head for as long as you could.

“I’m not ignoring you, okay?” you tried. “Come back home with me, and you’ll have my full attention.”

Jeonghan hesitated before he let out a begrudged grumble. “Fine.”

You and Chan hauled the drunken demon to his feet, taking one of his arms and throwing it over your shoulders so that you could help him walk. Chan assisted you by slinging Jeonghan’s other arm over his shoulder, but you still found it hard to walk properly with Jeonghan’s head lolling to the side. His face was so close that you could feel his hot breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“You smell so good, human,” he murmured. Jesus, he was saying all this while Chan was still here? You were glad that Jeonghan couldn’t tell how flustered you were, but it was probably evident to Chan. “What perfume is that?”

“This guy sure does call you ‘human’ a lot,” Chan observed with a light laugh.

“Uh, yeah, inside joke,” you explained quickly. “Let’s just get him to the couch.”

Once you and Chan let Jeonghan’s heavy body drop onto the couch, you walked the frat boy to the door. He stuffed his hands deep in his pockets, a shy smile playing on his lips. He looked at you expectantly, like he was waiting for a tip or something. You were considering handing him the crumpled-up five dollars you left in your back pocket.

“We should hang out sometime, Y/N,” he started. “I feel like I barely see you around the house anymore.”

“Oh, yeah, I haven’t been in a partying mood lately,” you explained, “but I’ll try to drop by more.”

“Alright. I’ll see you around.”

Before you could respond, a voice from behind you loudly interjected, “Bye.” With that, Jeonghan slammed the door shut with one hand.

“That was rude,” you said.

“Can I gut him like a fish?”

“That’s even more rude. Please don’t.”

“Whatever.”

You looked back at Jeonghan, who had one hand against the door that was right beside your head. “What’s your deal? He was nice enough to drive you back and help you to the couch.”

“Why do you keep ignoring me?” he asked, proceeding to ignore you at the same time.

“I-I’m not ignoring you!” you stammered. “I’m the one who helped you get back to the apartment!”

He had you backed up against the door, looking up at him with worry knitting your brows together. Jeonghan let his head drop to lay on your shoulder, leaving you frozen in place. You figured it was the alcohol rushing to his head, but you couldn’t help the fact that your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Human,” he mumbled against your collarbone, “why can’t you just stay by my side?”

“Huh? But—”

“I wanna be human, too.”

The words sounded strange coming from him. Almost like he was at his tipping point. Tender. Raw. Vulnerable. You were absolutely dumbfounded by what you had just heard. With no coherent response coming to mind, all you could do was raise your hand to gently thread through his soft strands of hair.

“Let’s get you to bed,” you replied softly, letting the demon stay in your embrace as you walked him back to your bedroom. He looked up at you quizzically when you sat him down on the edge of your bed. “It’s about time you stopped sleeping on the floor. I’ll take the couch, so—”

You cut yourself off when Jeonghan wrapped his arms around your legs and pressed his lips to your thighs. “Stay here with me.”

You stared ahead, straight at the wall, a dull ache throbbing in your chest. “What are you doing, Jeonghan?”

“What?”

“Why are you doing this to me?” you asked. “You only have months left to live. You should’ve just gone back with Joshua.”

He stiffened. “I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, I guess you’ll just be reborn, anyway,” you muttered. “You never had anything to worry about to begin with.”

Jeonghan suddenly pulled away from you, his eyes cold as ice. Since he was always docile around you, there was never any reason for you to feel scared around the demon. However, the look he was giving you left you backing up slowly from him.

“I’d rather stay dead than be reborn,” Jeonghan said, “and I wouldn’t feel so agonized about it if I didn’t have to meet you.”

Tears pricked your eyes. You felt a lump rising in your throat, and you felt the hot, salty tears hitting your feet before you even realized you had started to cry. It took all of your willpower to keep the waterworks at bay. The demon’s cruel words were never supposed to get under your skin this bad. You held him at arm’s length for that very reason.

Maybe, all this time, you had been pulling him closer unintentionally.

“You think nothing hurts for me just because I’m a demon,” he continued, “but it stings every time you try to chase me away.”

“I’m not trying to chase you away.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me to go back to Hell?” he asked. You couldn’t exactly read his expression, but it was clear that Jeonghan felt tormented. The pain in his eyes was telling of that. “Why did you want me to go back with Asmodeus?”

You huffed. “I really don’t understand you. You don’t want to die and be reborn, but you don’t want to go to Hell either? Aren’t you going to die if you stay here?”

“You don’t get it.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be reborn because I lose all my memories of the mortal world. I lose all my memories of you.”

“And you don’t want to go to Hell because…”

“The only reason you summoned me was because of Asmo—I mean, Joshua’s—need for pointless entertainment. Surely, with what’s been going down in Hell ever since I left, they won’t let me leave again until Pythius is quelled. That could take hundreds or thousands of years.” Jeonghan scoffed, shaking his head. “Pythius… one of the most fearsome and hideous demons. There’s no telling what he’d do for a seat with the Seven Princes.”

“I’m sure if I go back, he would try to kill me over and over again,” he continued, “because he detests me the most. That group of them—the Malebranche—they might be more sadistic than Lucifer himself.”

You frowned. “What’d you do to him?”

“Why do you assume I did something to him?” Jeonghan scowled.

“Because you’re the demon prince of greed,” you replied. “I’m sure you pissed him off somehow.”

He snorted. “Pythius rules the eighth circle where frauds are punished. He hates nothing more than the greed that consumes those humans. Of course he’d loathe the demon that represents the very sin.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you act that greedy here, though. Are you different when you’re down there?”

The dark glint in Jeonghan’s eyes nearly went undetected. You only managed to catch it because of the way his smile dropped in tune. His normally easygoing expression was replaced with the same serious look he wore when Joshua was around.

“I haven’t been this greedy in eons, human.”

You tried to think back to when Jeonghan had acted in such a way. Sure, there were the multiple times he gave you (mind-blowing) head and the time he asked you for the newest iPhone, but those didn’t seem as drastic to you. You expected the very demon of greed to be more selfish.

“Really?” You forced out a stilted laugh. “I think you’re about as greedy as a toddler, like, in a bratty way, but that’s it.”

Jeonghan stood up.

You took notice of his broad shoulders before, but now you felt swamped under his gaze. He towered over you with ease, looking down at you with a storm brewing in his eyes. There were no words exchanged at first, but one look at the demon told you that whatever he was experiencing was far too human for him to understand fully.

“I’m so greedy that I would let the hierarchy in Hell fall to shambles because of you,” he started. “I would abandon my seat and let Pythius take control just so I can stay here with you. I would rather wither away on Earth instead of going back to Hell where I can’t see you again. I would let Alastor, the chief executioner, torture me over and over again until the ache in my heart finally goes away—the ache you caused.”

His next words were no louder than a weak whisper when he grabbed your forearms and said, “I’m so greedy that I wanna just give up everything for you, Y/N.”

With that, Jeonghan muttered something about sleeping on the couch before he walked out of your room and shut the door. That was the first time he had ever called you by your name; yet, it didn’t even make you feel happy. The first salty tear hit the floorboards, then the next, then more. You could only watch the demon leave in silence, finally letting yourself cry once he was out of sight.

Crying because you didn’t want him to leave. Crying because your feelings were already running too deep.

Crying because you knew a botched confession when you heard one.

Just as you were about to settle in bed, burrow yourself in the sheets and sob until you fell asleep, you heard Jeonghan’s footsteps coming back from the living room. You had no time to regain your composure when he flung open the door, his eyes stony and his lips pulled down in a frown.

“I can’t sleep if you’re crying like this,” he murmured, walking over to cup your face with his large hands. “That’s foul play.”

He kissed you.

The motion was swift—a gentle grab of your jaw and tilt of your chin, and Jeonghan was kissing away your disquiet with surprising tenderness.

Temptation.

Temptation was the utmost desire that demons could draw from mortals, but you weren’t quite sure this was it. Jeonghan’s kiss felt different—more intimate. His lips moved against yours with hesitance at first, and he only deepened it once you reciprocated. It felt like he wasn’t trying to pull you closer; rather, he was waiting for you to find him.

Once you two were lost in desperate kisses and heavy breaths, Jeonghan jerked away with a light gasp. You stared at him, dazed, before he grabbed your wrist and pressed your hand firmly against his chest. At first, you weren’t quite sure what he was having you do, but the realization was a slap in the face.

A heartbeat.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

It was fast, like he had just run a marathon. You looked up at the demon quizzically, but he was already pulling away. Your hand hung in the air before dropping to your side, registering too late that he had already let go.

“You think nothing hurts me,” he mumbled. This time, he had his own hand flat against his chest. “I torture myself every day like this because I know, deep down, there’s no happy ending for us.” The demon’s eyes, normally masked with golden brown irises, glowed a dim red.

It started drizzling outside. Soft pattering of rain that drowned out the silence.

Everything would fall apart—slowly, gently, inevitably. Jeonghan, too, would eventually become nothing but a ghost of a raindrop that once streaked your window.

Post-party hangovers always called for breakfast at The Veranda. It became a tradition between you and Sooyoung to go there after a night of partying. That, or you two would skip straight to lunch and get pho. There was no telling when either of you would wake up the next morning.

Today, however, Sooyoung texted you early enough.

“We should get cocktails,” she suggested while looking down the menu.

“You already blacked out last night, you crazy bitch.”

To be frank, you had ulterior motives for this outing. For one, you wanted to get out of the house because the tension between you and Jeonghan was making you suffocate. The other reason was because you wanted to consult Sooyoung with your problems.

You started with, “So, there’s this guy,” and your best friend was already at the edge of her seat. Once you finished giving her the rundown (which only concluded after you ordered your food and were halfway done with your herb roasted chicken sandwich), Sooyoung paused to think, which stretched into about five minutes. More than enough time for you to finish your sandwich.

“I don’t get what the problem is,” Sooyoung finally said, tilting her head curiously. “If you two like each other, then just ask him out.”

If only it were that easy, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t spare her the details of how impossible the situation was. You weren’t in the mood to hear “if he wanted to, he would” when you were dealing with a guardian demon who was literally dying in the mortal world.

You hesitated. “Let’s just say that he’s not exactly available right now.”

“He has a girlfriend?” Sooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. She looked ready to start telling you off for being a homewrecker, so you had to clarify immediately.

“No, no, he’s single,” you said. “He’s just not… emotionally available to date.”

“So, he’s been getting all close to you without wanting to date you.”

“Uh, not really? He’s just—”

“Cut him off, Y/N.”

“What?” you asked, eyes widening. You figured the situation sounded bad from an outsider’s perspective, but there was no way for you to break it down without explaining that Jeonghan’s your guardian demon from Hell that ended up being trapped on Earth because of your statistics midterm and demonic intervention from Joshua, the other oddball from Hell. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” Sooyoung replied. “It’ll hurt at first, but you’ll get over it eventually.”

“But he’s…” you trailed off, wondering how the fuck you were going to defend a demon prince of greed. You settled with saying, “He’s funny.”

“So are clowns, Y/N. You don’t see me asking out Ronald McDonald.”

“Okay, it’s not that simple, Sooyoung!” you cried out. “It’s more like… he doesn’t have that much time left here.”

“Oh.” She sounded lost at first, but the confused look on her face was slowly replaced with somber understanding. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, you’re good. I didn’t know how to say it.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” she said, “why don’t you just make the most of the time you have left with him?”

Sooyoung’s words hadn’t left your mind ever since breakfast. Even after she dropped you off at your apartment, you were still replaying the conversation in your head.

You thought about it in the shower.

You thought about it while doing your homework.

And you continued to think about it when Jeonghan was spreading your legs apart later that day.

“Didn’t we just fight?” you asked, your voice unnaturally high. Despite your words, you came to realize that you were sort of feral when it came to your sex life. A little fight was just a chip on your shoulder.

“That was a fight?” Jeonghan asked. “I’ve been in fights before. They’re pretty gruesome. Usually some heads roll or someone gets disemboweled.”

“A verbal fight,” you clarified.

“I’ve been in verbal fights before, too. They usually end with someone getting stabbed.”

“Okay, well, that’s not a verbal fight.” You sighed. “I mean, aren’t you upset with me? You were acting like being around me was hurting you.”

Jeonghan looked down and went completely silent.

“Hello?” you called. Did you break him?

Jeonghan looked back up. This time, his cheeks were tinged scarlet red. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the demon fully blushing over your words. You were definitely adding this bullet point to the Blackmail on Jeonghan folder you kept in your Notes app.

“I let my emotions get the best of me, okay?” he mumbled. “Let's just drop it.”

You, however, were brimming with questions. “Hey, but you let me feel your heartbeat last night,” you started. “Did you always have a heart?”

Jeonghan pulled away to look at you with distaste dawning on his face. “Did I always have a heart? Of course I’ve always had a heart, human. How would I be giving you the head of your life if I was a corpse?”

Your demon was gradually evolving to develop a filthy mouth. You weren’t sure if this was improvement or regression.

“You have a human heart and you can feel human emotions,” you said. “What makes you and I so different, then?”

Jeonghan opened his mouth, but before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. You glanced at Jeonghan suspiciously, wondering if he invited Seokmin without your knowledge, but even he looked clueless. There was no one you were expecting, so you wondered if it was just the UPS guy dropping off a package.

When you opened your door though, it was indeed Seokmin, and he was pissed.

You had never seen him like this, with his nostrils flaring and his skin flushed red. It was almost as if steam was coming out of his own ears. But there was something very glaring about Seokmin that had you gawking at him.

His wings were on full display.

Snowy white wings fanned out behind him. You could hear a low, angelic hum faintly resounding from the feathers. You were in shock for a moment, unsettled and overwhelmed by the heavenly light that Seokmin was bathing in.

It seemed to have an even worse effect on Jeonghan. You noticed how he flinched at the sight, backing up slowly.

“Get back, Y/N,” Seokmin ordered. “I know this is gonna sound crazy, but your roommate’s dangerous.”

You wondered if he had some unexplainable power over you because your actions were going against your words as you found yourself stumbling away from the two. “Seokmin, don’t do this,” you begged.

He frowned. “What?”

But Jeonghan got his words in before you could. “Looks like the both of us figured it out before you did. You just found out you’re a Quartarion, huh?”

He was jeering, like he was taunting the angel to attack him. You couldn’t understand what the demon was thinking when he was clearly overpowered right now. Even if Seokmin wasn’t a pureblood angel, Jeonghan’s powers had considerably weakened ever since he entered the mortal realm.

“How…” Seokmin was shocked for a moment, straightening up and glowering down at you. “How did you know?”

“You found out recently, didn’t you? Mommy or daddy told you they were half, which meant you’re quarter—weaker than them,” Jeonghan pressed. “They kept it from you all this time, huh? Because your angelic presence wasn’t strong enough to be a threat, but then you started glowing brighter.”

“Jeonghan, enough!” you yelled, trying to mediate whatever was happening. You had no idea what Seokmin was going to do, but it definitely didn’t seem like he was here for another movie night.

“Mammon,” Seokmin said through gritted teeth. “That’s your real name, right?” Suddenly, the angel turned on you with an accusatory stare. “And you—how did you know about all of this? Did he tell you?”

You gulped before starting slowly, “Look, I accidentally summoned Jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the Olive Garden.”

Seokmin tilted his head, looking utterly puzzled. None of those words were in the Bible.

“I knew he was a demon,” you continued, “and he told me you were an angel. He could sense it, or something like that.”

“Oh,” Seokmin replied rather sadly, as if he had just discovered he had been the brunt of a joke all along. “Well, I’m sorry you were caught up in this Y/N, but I have to kill your roommate before he hurts anyone else.”

“Whoa, hold on—he hasn’t hurt anyone!” you cried, holding onto Seokmin’s shoulder to keep him from charging at Jeonghan. “You’re an angel; you can’t kill him!”

“Technically, he can,” Jeonghan noted as he just barely avoided the angel grabbing him. “Some angels are specifically assigned to keep demons away from humans. I think Seokmin’s just mad, though.”

“I’m not just mad,” Seokmin spat, although he was visibly seething. “I just feel stupid that I befriended someone who was trying to kill me this whole time!”

You turned your gaze to Jeonghan, who held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll admit I might have had murderous intentions at first, but come on! You would be dead by now if I really wanted to kill you.”

“You can’t kill him, Seokmin,” you repeated in a desperate attempt. “You owe him!”

Now the angel was lost. “And how exactly do I owe him?”

“Remember when your card declined, and I bought you that croissant on campus last week?” you tried. As soon as the words came out, you heard a loud groan from Jeonghan, and you were sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “You owe me, who owes Jeonghan, so you owe Jeonghan!”

Seokmin was even more lost. “What?”

“Transitive property of equality: A equals B equals C, so A equals C.”

“There’s no way you’re actually applying the transitive property of equality to this situation.”

“And what exactly do you owe me for?” Jeonghan chimed in, equally as confused.

“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m agreeing with him on this one, but he’s a demon, Y/N,” Seokmin said. “If you feel like you owe him anything, it’s likely you were manipulated by him.”

“No, I wasn’t!” you protested before the demon could object himself. “I owe him because…”

You trailed off, wondering how you were going to string your feelings into comprehensible words. They were all a mess of jumbled vowels and consonants in your head, holding no significant weight until you thought long and hard, feeling it get heavier and heavier on your tongue.

The angel raised a brow. “Because what?”

Letters unfurling in your head. Piecing themselves together. You felt like your head was going to explode until you blurted out, “Because he showed me what love feels like.”

You looked over at Jeonghan to see him staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. He looked helpless at the moment, wild with pain, like he had let down all lines of defense at your declaration. A scarlet red blush stained his cheeks, and it was perhaps the single most human expression you had ever seen from him.

Seokmin moved forward, and an agonized scream tore itself from your throat before you could even think. His sudden movement chilled your blood, and all you could think about was how you needed to protect your guardian demon before he was struck by the angel.

And so you did.

Confession time: you kicked an angel in the balls.

You were pretty sure that was a one-way ticket to Hell.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you kept repeating to a defeated Seokmin, who was now laying on the couch with pain drawn all over his face. “My fight response has been kicking in a lot more lately.”

“I wasn’t gonna hurt him,” he explained weakly. “My foot was just cramping up.”

“So you won’t kill Jeonghan?” you asked, brimming with hope.

“I… I don’t know,” he answered. “Jeonghan’s a demon, Y/N. Just because you have feelings for him doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of manipulating those emotions out of you.”

“He’s as good as human, Seokmin.”

“Y/N,” Jeonghan started, but you shook your head.

“I’m right!” you insisted. “Jeonghan has a heart, and it beats; I’ve felt it myself.” The two men were silent, so you continued, “He can’t handle alcohol at all; he’s more lightweight than I am. He likes building lego sets. He likes the rain, and he said it’s because that means an angel’s crying, but it’s really because he loves the way the Earth smells after rainfall. He likes coffee, but he always pours me some first before he takes any. You think he’d have the vocabulary of a Victorian man, but he knows more slang than I do. He… Jeonghan wants to be human. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Silence hung in the air. You wondered if you overstepped for a moment, aired out too much of his business, but then you could visibly see Seokmin at war with himself. You could see the internal battle in his eyes, fighting to believe in whatever the angels had instructed him to do.

He narrowed his eyes at the demon and asked in a calmer voice, “You swear you won’t kill me?”

“I swear on God.”

“You’re a demon. Swear on something else.”

“Um, okay… I swear on, uh, Y/N.”

“Please don’t swear on me,” you muttered, looking at your feet nervously as if the ground was going to swallow you whole.

Seokmin closed his eyes, exhaling loudly. “So, when did you stop wanting to kill me?”

“Y/N and I had a deal that I wouldn’t kill you in exchange for—”

You slapped a hand over the demon’s mouth immediately, successfully muffling the next words that decided to slip from his lips. It felt like your face was burning from how embarrassed you were. While Jeonghan shot you a confused look and tried to lick your palm to get it to budge, you exclaimed, “That detail isn’t important!”

“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued once you finally removed your hand, “I guess… part of me started enjoying those movie nights. Kinda hard to discuss the endings after you kill your friend, right?”

You could see Seokmin visibly soften, the fondness returning to his eyes. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“You can tell?” you inquired, wondering if it was some sort of angelic ability he had recently acquired.

“Yeah, I’ve always had some sort of sixth sense about these things,” Seokmin said, although you weren’t quite sure about this because you and Jeonghan had lied to him on numerous occasions. “I was only able to tap into it after I saw my wings for the first time.”

You then wondered if the longing etched bone-deep in Jeonghan’s face was also real.

It took a couple of hours for you and Jeonghan to explain everything to Seokmin, from beginning to end. You had to start from how you accidentally summoned him, which seemed to entertain the both of them, and you had to scold them both to take the situation seriously. Then, Jeonghan explained his side of the story, detailing how he didn’t have much time left because his mortal body was weak.

“What do we do now, then?” Seokmin asked, sitting up straight now. “You’re gonna die if you stay here, right?”

“That’s why he wanted to kill an angel,” you said, “but now we don’t have a game plan.”

The three of you sat in silence for several minutes, letting the situation sink in. Your nerves were still buzzing from your earlier confession, still unanswered by Jeonghan, but you knew it wasn’t the time to dwell on that. There were more important matters at hand, but no one knew what to do.

Jeonghan sighed. “It’s fine. I’ve already accepted that I’m going to die here and be reborn in Hell.”

“You think that’s fair to Y/N? Or me?” Seokmin burst out. “You’re basically telling us to watch you die, dude.”

“You think I wanted this outcome?” he snapped. “No, I didn’t think I was going to actually enjoy living in this realm! I didn’t think I was gonna fall in love with my human! I didn’t think mortals had such excellent marketing strategies!”

Seokmin’s eyes went wide. “You…”

“Jeonghan,” was all you could say, and his name came out no louder than a whisper.

“What?!”

“You said you love me.”

You looked toward Seokmin for confirmation, who answered with a quiet nod—an indication that not only had you heard it correctly, but Jeonghan was telling the truth.

To be honest, you were quite embarrassed that this was all coming to light in front of Lee Seokmin. He seemed very out of place in this otherwise tender moment. Yet, you were filled with inexplicable happiness and absolute dread simultaneously.

Once the grief settled, you were born again. Newfound confidence rising up your throat. You were determined to do whatever it took to mortalize Jeonghan.

“Oh, right.” The demon sounded nervous—enough to make you nervous. He simply stared at you for a moment before brushing the proclamation off with a wave. “Anyway…”

“Jeonghan!”

He shot you a withering look, glaring you down with every fiber of his being. “Seokmin is right there. Do you really wanna do this right now?” he whispered in an exasperated tone, turning his back to his friend so that he could converse with you. Although Jeonghan was lecturing, you were enjoying the way his blush rose to his cheeks. “We can talk about this after he leaves.”

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “Why’d you have to blurt out a confession while he was here?”

“You did the same thing!”

“I can still hear you guys,” Seokmin reminded unhelpfully.

Somehow, Jeonghan took this as an opportunity to continue to chastise you. “See? This is all because you can’t keep quiet.”

“I can’t keep quiet?” You knew this was not the time nor place to bicker with your guardian demon, but he was an expert at getting on your nerves. “You’re the one who speaks in crazy demon lingo wherever we go!”

He scoffed. “I don’t speak in crazy demon lingo, human.”

“Yeah? Tell that to Chan. Poor guy had to witness your drunk ass going on about the Yog Sloth owing you or whatever.”

Jeonghan stammered and did a double take, looking at you like you had just kicked him square in the chest. “Wait… what did you just say?”

“Uh, Chan—”

“No, the other thing.”

“The Yog Sloth?”

“Yog Sloth,” he echoed, and then something clicked. “Yog-Sothoth? Wait, the Outer Gods—oh my god! They do owe me!” he all but yelled, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

Seokmin’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What’d she even do?” he asked, and you were glad you were on the same page as him.

“Yeah, what’d I do? Who the hell are the Outer Gods?”

For the next thirty minutes, Jeonghan went on to explain how billions of years ago, the most powerful beings of all creation, that rivaled even God Himself, were ruling over the universe. Before space and time was Azathoth—chaos. Azathoth even tried to disrupt the beginning of God’s Creation by starting a war. Each blow delivered from both God and Azathoth caused a rippling effect, creating infinite multiverses that were birthed from the clashing between darkness and light.

There was a period in time when the angels and demons had to side together for once to seal away the Outer Gods. Although they were no match for these cosmic beings, God was able to lock them in the Outerverse, where they have been slumbering ever since.

The key that locked away the Outer Gods had been missing for several millennia, but it happened to end up in the hands of Mammon and Belphegor. Mammon had the clever idea of reshaping the artifact into a human hand and hiding it in a fiery lake in Hell. It was called the Right Hand of Doom, but it hadn’t been touched ever since its reform.

“You reshaped a key of cosmic importance into a hand,” you summarized in disbelief. “That key has the power to doom all of our existences, and you turned it into a human hand.”

“You know, Belphegor had the same reaction after I created it,” Jeonghan said. “Actually, let me give him a call to fetch it for me.”

“Wait!” Seokmin exclaimed. “That key could wake the Outer Gods from their slumber. What are you planning on doing with it? Are you seriously considering using the Outerverse?”

“No, Seokmin, I’m gonna use it as a back scratcher.”

“Don’t get me wrong; I do want you to stay here, but this is extremely dangerous. It’s a really selfish decision, Jeonghan.”

“I’m literally the Prince of Greed.”

“Jeonghan, no matter how much I want you to become human and stay with me, this is just… it’s just crazy,” you said. “What if it goes completely wrong? What if you’re trapped in the Outerverse and killed by the Outer Gods?”

“Listen,” Jeonghan started. “When I first created the Right Hand of Doom, I was contacted by Yog-Sothoth himself—Azathoth’s grandson.”

“How did he contact you if he’s imprisoned?” you asked.

“These gods have their ways the same way demons do,” Jeonghan explained. “It’s kept on the down-low, but there are numerous worshippers of theirs that seek out ways to release them. None of them are ever successful, though.”

He continued, “Anyway, Yog-Sothoth isn’t as cruel as the others. He’s actually quite generous when he deems someone worthy, and I guess he thought I was that person when I refashioned the Right Hand of Doom. Millions of years ago, I helped the Outer Gods out by bringing them sacrifices to empower them, so they’re in my debt.”

Seokmin's face soured. “Why’d you bring them sacrifices?”

“Dunno. I was bored.”

“Let me get this straight,” you spoke up. “So, you’re gonna risk your life over the slight chance that you could be turned human?”

Jeonghan’s dark eyes pierced yours, as if he was saying, Look at me. Look at how far I’d go for you.

“Relax.” He cracked a smile. “It’s not like I’m going to the Outerverse myself. I just need the Right Hand of Doom to communicate with Yog-Sothoth across our realms. Even if he rejects my bargain, I doubt he’d try to crush me to a pulp from his prison.”

“If that’s all there is to it,” Seokmin started, a smile creeping to his face, “then I don’t see why we shouldn’t try.”

Jeonghan left the room momentarily to contact Belphegor, Prince of Sloth. He hadn’t exactly disclosed how he was going to summon the demon, but he returned with a scowl on his face, shaking his head as he explained that Belphegor was too lazy to retrieve the Right Hand of Doom at the moment. You and Seokmin asked when he would return, but even Jeonghan didn’t have an exact answer.

“Give me a call whenever he decides to show up,” Seokmin said before he went back to his apartment. You could tell that he was still shaken up from finding out that his friend had been a demon all this time, but you were glad that they were both being civil for now.

However, there were now other issues at hand. As soon as Seokmin left your apartment, you realized that the tension between you and Jeonghan couldn’t even be cut by a blade. To your surprise, your guardian demon was the first to mention it.

“You love me,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. It was like he was trying to wrap his head around the concept, trying to make sure it was real.

“I do,” you said bravely, “and you love me, I think. Seokmin seemed to believe it was true, and he’s an angel, so…”

“I think I do.” He looked pained. “These feelings are really confusing. I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes. You have a way of making me feel like I’m at the top of the world sometimes, but sometimes I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom.”

You understood that completely. When you and Jeonghan had your good moments together, you felt like you were soaring. However, when you were reminded about how little time he had left on Earth, you wanted to shut out the rest of the world and hide.

“We can figure it out together,” you told him, reaching forward to grab his hand and squeeze it.

Jeonghan’s eyes always looked different to you, like melted amber. They held many millennia of age and experience, so it felt like Jeonghan was unfazed by most aspects of life he encountered. Nothing could make the man falter.

But now, with evident panic in his eyes, newfound confidence surged through your blood that compelled you to get on your tip-toes and press a chaste kiss to his lips. It was a seemingly tame sign of affection, so you were thrown off when Jeonghan quietly slid a finger past the hem of your jeans. With his head dipped, the demon looked at you through his long, feathery lashes.

“Are you… are you hungry?” you stammered out.

“No,” he mumbled, raising his head to meet your eyes with his expectant ones. “Two people who like each other… Normally, this would lead to dating, wouldn’t it?” When you nodded, he continued, “How about it, then?”

“How about what?”

“Let’s go out.”

Your mind went blank for a moment. With how straightforwardly he said it, you would have thought Jeonghan was messing with your head, trying to push your buttons by teasing you. But his face looked determined this time, like he actually meant it. You could see the red glow of his eyes as he waited for an answer.

You blinked. “Like, as boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes, as boyfriend and girlfriend,” Jeonghan confirmed, exasperated. He gripped your hand tighter, as if he was getting his feelings across with a gentle squeeze. “Like Hallie and Noah.”

“It’s Allie.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, surprisingly tender in the way he cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer. You were still a bundle of nerves, but something about Jeonghan made you feel secure. Quite the opposite of how you theoretically should feel around a demon. “Hey,” he tried again, his voice no louder than murmur, “I wanna kiss you.”

You smiled. “Then do it already.”

And so he did.

Jeonghan had kissed you before, but it was nothing like this. It seemed so urgent before, like you both knew you were running out of time. This time, though, he was slow, taking his time to memorize the shape of your lips as he moved his mouth against yours. You felt his long lashes tickle your cheeks, and it almost made you giggle, so you had to pull back to regain your composure. Jeonghan looked down at you, chest heaving even though the kiss was nothing but gentle.

“Again,” you pleaded.

Immediately, his current expression turned cocky. The corner of Jeonghan’s mouth lifted in amusement, and he kissed you not-so-gently this time. He pulled your body flush against his, and you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The moment he slid his tongue past your lips, you heard a soft groan from Jeonghan that made your knees buckle under you.

Jeonghan held your waist with one hand and the back of your head with the other. Even though you were still standing on two feet, you were sure that he could hold you up, anyway. He gripped you like he never wanted to let you go.

“You taste good,” he mumbled against your lips.

“You taste like… coffee.” You made a face and let a giggle slip.

“Well, it’s a good thing you like coffee.”

“Not when I’m tasting it secondhand.”

“You know, a minute ago, I wanted to fuck you properly,” he said. “Now, I’m just miffed. Slightly turned on, but still miffed.”

“Fuck me properly?” you asked, sort of embarrassed by how high your voice got. You inched closer, allowing Jeonghan’s finger to toy with the waistband of your underwear. In return, you placed your hand flat against his abdomen, moving it down slowly until you reached his crotch. Jeonghan hissed when you pressed against his growing bulge. “You mean…”

“With my cock, yeah,” he finished bluntly.

It was silent for a moment. You removed your hand, swallowing carefully after realizing that your guardian demon was hard.

Jeonghan wordlessly slid his hand down your pants, maintaining direct eye contact with you. His hand cupped your clothed cunt, and although you tried to resist, you couldn’t help but throb for more contact. You wondered if he just wanted to see your reactions, and you confirmed this by watching his smirk form when you whimpered.

“Oh,” you breathed out.

“Yeah, you like that?”

His voice was heavy, ragged. You felt like you could get drunk off it, so, naturally, you backed up with him until the back of your legs hit the bed. You made a sound of agreement when he hummed, prompting you to answer his question. You couldn’t even form words when all you could think about was being under him. Jeonghan’s palming grew more intense, and you were having a harder time staying upright.

Then, he was occupied with your neck. Jeonghan dragged his soft lips along the flesh, nipping and biting where he pleased. You let out a soft whine when he sucked on that one spot that turned your brain into mush.

“I’m gonna lay you down,” he said, although it felt like a question with the way he was looking at you. His eyes were careful, like he was holding onto your every word before following through. “Am I doing this right?”

You laughed, delighted as he set you down on your bed and got over you. You looped your arms around his shoulders and asked, “What do you mean?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Am I going about this the right way? I don’t really do this sort of thing.”

You were surprised at his sudden meekness. Judging from Jeonghan’s overwhelming confidence from your past hookups with him, you expected him to carry on with the same arrogance. You never thought he would be so hesitant all of a sudden.

“You’re doing perfect,” you reassured with a chaste peck to his lips.

“Right.” He did one of his breathless laughs, easing your nerves with his grin. “Just tell me if I’m screwing up, then.”

Jeonghan dipped his head again to pepper kisses across your collarbone, working his way back up to the column of your neck. He worked on your sweet spot, biting and sucking until he had successfully left a bruise. You squirmed underneath him the entire time, tugging your hands through his hair and begging for him to fix the ache between your legs.

The demon only chuckled darkly in response. As he bit the shell of your ear, he removed your jeans and underwear swiftly, which you aided by kicking the garments off your ankles. He prodded your cunt with nimble fingers, grinning wider when he saw the desperation in your eyes.

“You’re so wet,” he commented in a silky voice. “All for me, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, “and take your clothes off already.”

Jeonghan rose up to sit back on your thighs, staring at you the entire time he pulled his shirt off and discarded it to the side. You couldn’t help but ogle at his figure; he was absolutely gorgeous—sculpted by God Himself.

“Don’t do that,” he said gruffly when you reached out to poke his stomach. You deduced that Jeonghan was most definitely ticklish and trying to hide that weakness from you.

“But your reaction was cute.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, his hands moving to tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, your turn.”

“H-huh?”

Even when Jeonghan gave you head in the past, you always kept your shirt on. He, too, had never stripped down in front of you like this. Surely, you were expecting this to happen, but the thought of being fully naked in front of Jeonghan was intimidating. It felt like you two were reaching a level of intimacy and closeness that you thought was unattainable months prior.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I already know you’re not wearing a bra. You've gone braless for, like, almost a week now.”

You raised a suspicious brow at him. “You were staring at my tits?”

“No comment.”

Jeonghan placed his slender hands on your waist, squeezing your sides comfortingly as you pulled your shirt off over your head. He watched you with marvel in his eyes, eyes trained on the swell of your breasts. He leaned close to press soft kisses against the skin, whispering praise as he did so. You didn’t peg the demon to be so romantic, but you weren’t complaining.

You heard gentle pattering outside your window while Jeonghan kissed down your chest.

“It’s raining,” you whispered. The two of you broke apart for a brief moment while Jeonghan hastily got rid of his pants and boxers. “An angel’s crying.”

You looked to the side, and you nearly had to look away before Jeonghan could notice how flustered you looked. The demon stood in all his glory. You had seen naked men before, but Jeonghan was, of course, a creature beyond human comprehension. He was the most gorgeous being you had ever come across.

And, strangely enough, for the first time, you didn’t feel that uncontrollable tug of desire when you looked at him. You weren’t compelled to drop to your knees and submit to the demon. Your attraction felt innate, much like how the rain falls so naturally from the sky. Not that Jeonghan ever had you under a spell or anything, but it almost felt like he was becoming more human.

Whether that meant he was losing his powers or was growing accustomed to living as a human, you had no idea.

“You’re beautiful,” he admitted, looking down at you like you were the stars in the night sky.

“Thanks,” you replied shyly.

“That’s your reaction?” He beamed, amused. “Well, whatever. I’d rather you save your voice for when I make you scream, human.”

You thought it would be impossible at this point, but your cheeks grew even hotter. Yet, you couldn’t even chide the demon because he was already getting over you, promptly attacking your neck with more kisses.

You were a soaking mess already, so Jeonghan’s fingers slid into your cunt with ease. You were taken aback yourself by how effortless it was, but you figured two fingers couldn’t hold a candle to the girth of his cock.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch how Jeonghan fingered you. Both of you stared at the spot where his fingers disappeared in you, and the sight only turned you on even more. For once, Jeonghan was pleasuring someone else without the favor being returned, yet you had never seen him so satiated. He was thriving off of your moans and cries, like the sounds itself were feeding him.

A moan escaped your lips, fragmenting off into broken whimpers as Jeonghan’s fingers sped up. You felt your thighs start to shake—the preamble of your orgasm building up. Heat bloomed under your skin, and you dug your nails into the demon’s shoulders to warn him.

The warning only spurred him to move his fingers faster—in scissoring motions this time. His thumb found purchase on your clit, circling the ball of nerves slowly. Finally, you fell off the edge, crying out in ecstasy as boundless pleasure tore through your body. Your mind went blank, thinking about nothing but how good you felt. It was like you were bathed in heavenly light.

“I got you,” Jeonghan murmured, kissing the spot under your ear.

If you had half the mind to kick him in the shin, you would. Pretending to comfort you while torturing your swollen clit throughout your orgasm was pure evil. You expected no less from a demon.

“Will you do me a favor and fuck me already?” you asked, exasperated. For good measure, you flattened your palm against his stomach and slid your hand down his abs.

“Alright. Beg for it.”

You balked. “W-what?”

“You want me to fuck you that bad? Then beg for it,” he said with an air of haughtiness. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but the man didn’t budge. “I’m waiting.”

“I am not begging you, that’s so—” You paused. Jeonghan raised a brow, prompting you to continue, so you admitted, “It’s embarrassing!”

He shrugged. “I think we’re both past the point of being embarrassed in front of each other, human.”

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay, fine. You want me to beg? I’ll beg.” You laid back down, looping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck once more and pulling him close. “I’ve been waiting months for you to fuck me, so please make me feel good and I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” The mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I’ll be good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” you whined, the agitation growing in your chest. “I’ll be a good girl, okay? I’ll be really, really good.”

“Alright, I’m sold.”

Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a light laugh before his demeanor completely shifted. His easygoing smile turned into a proud smirk when he practically folded you in half, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders so that he could line himself up to your entrance. He hummed, teasing your folds with the head of his cock.

You wanted to cry out, to push at his chest and beg him to just fuck you already. All of the teasing had you at your tipping point, and you were about to complain until you felt the tip of Jeonghan’s cock enter you slowly.

Your breath hitched. He hadn’t even completely entered you, and you were already throbbing at the thought of his cock inside you. Jeonghan used one hand to hold your hips down, pushing into you slowly but surely. You could tell he didn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he kept his eyes trained on your face the entire time, gauging whether to proceed based off your reactions.

“Sorry,” he apologized, placing a kiss against your stomach as he continued pushing his way inside you until he bottomed out. Your eyes nearly rolled back once he was fully inside, and all you could do was clench around him until he growled. “Hold still.”

“Keep going,” you begged, holding onto him like he was your anchor. If you let go of him, you were sure you would fall apart.

Jeonghan simpered, looking quite delighted as he started rocking his hips slowly. It seemed as though he was waiting for you to get adjusted to his size. Despite all, you were still clenching around his cock occasionally, leaving him holding onto you tighter and groaning into the crook of your neck. Jeonghan sped up his thrusts and left a bruising grip on your hips.

“You like that?” he asked, and, lord, you nearly came for the second time just by his words.

“Jeonghan!” you cried out, nearly gasping the words. “I… I want—”

“Want what?” he cut you off smoothly, smirking down at your disheveled appearance. He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust. “What do you want, princess?”

You whimpered. “I do wanna be your girlfriend.”

He froze for a moment, stunned. Apparently, that wasn’t the route he was expecting you to take.

Then, the demon’s shock wore off and was replaced with a warm smile. “Yeah?” he asked, leaning down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away to look into your eyes. “I’d be honored to be your boyfriend, Y/N.”

It was like clockwork—the way your orgasm hit you at that very moment. You tightened around him uncontrollably, the sporadic motions causing Jeonghan to cum as well. He pulled out right before his climax, ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach. You watched it pool together with hazy, unfocused eyes, still dazed from your orgasm and sudden confession.

Jeonghan was your boyfriend now.

“I see why mortal men are such fools for women,” Jeonghan said once he collapsed next to you. “If sex is always this good, I would start wars, too.”

“You’re a demon prince. You’ve started wars, anyway.”

“Oh, right.”

Afterward, you taught Jeonghan a thing or two about aftercare. The concept was completely foreign to him, so you informed him that good boyfriends took care of their girlfriends after sex. When Jeonghan told you to just grab a tissue and call it a day, you had to scold him to get him to clean you up.

To your surprise, Jeonghan did a satisfactory job. You half-expected him to do the absolute bare minimum, but you could definitely see that he was trying his best.

So, you bestowed upon him the highest honor: allowing him to sleep with you in your bed.

Jeonghan got under the sheets beside you, wrapping an arm around you once you cozied up to him. It was strange how comfortable you felt with him, especially considering he was your assigned demon. In some parallel universe, you and Jeonghan might have been normal people with normal lives, and you two probably felt the same level of closeness as you did right now.

Neither of you could sleep right away. Jeonghan traced patterns along your arm and you told him countless stories about your childhood. He smiled fondly, intently listening to the life you lived before him.

Later, he kissed you, and, between bated breaths, whispered promises of forever. And eventually, the soft trickling of rain lulled you both to sleep.

You woke up freezing.

At first, you thought Jeonghan had stolen the blanket. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the Prince of Greed to be, well, greedy. However, considering your limbs were entangled with his, that didn’t seem to be the case.

The feeling was awfully familiar. It was the same sub-zero temperature you experienced when Jeonghan appeared in your room the first time. However, it was brief this time, dissipating as soon as it started.

Although you couldn’t identify the strange man who materialized in the center of your room, you had a good idea of who it was.

“Oh, Belphegor,” Jeonghan greeted without a care in the world, confirming your suspicions immediately. You were amazed that the half-naked demon was completely unfazed by his demon friend coming out of nowhere. Maybe this was just a regular morning for their kind. “About time you showed up.”

Belphegor made a noncommittal sound. “Yeah, well…”

“I can’t believe it took you centuries to fetch the Hand.”

“I was going to do it,” he said, “but then I didn’t want to.”

Jeonghan groaned. “You idiot.”

You gathered up the bedsheets, making sure to cover yourself fully before turning your attention back to the two demons. Maybe if you acted like everything about this situation was normal, it would distract from the fact that you only had a blanket to cover your naked body. The stranger seemed to have no interest in you whatsoever, so you figured he wouldn’t think anything of you and Jeonghan sleeping together.

“Jeonghan!” you hissed, glowering at your startled boyfriend. “It wouldn’t kill you to wake me up?”

“Oh, Y/N,” he started, seeming pleased with himself. He gestured toward the demon next to him, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed himself. “This is Belphegor, but you can call him by his human name: Wonwoo.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said cautiously.

“Hi.”

There was clearly no room for conversation between you two.

“Anyway,” Wonwoo continued, shooting Jeonghan a curious look, “what’re you gonna do with the key? You’re not opening the Outerverse, are you?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “I’m not gonna release the Outer Gods, I’m—”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Wonwoo cut him off, clearly uninterested in the conversation. “Now that I know you’re not trying to kill us all, I’ll get going.”

“Yeah, okay, good talk.”

Later in the day, you sat on the floor of your living room with Jeonghan and Seokmin. Jeonghan was giving him a rundown of Belphegor’s visit, which didn’t take very long considering he was there for a grand total of nine moments. You almost made an offhand comment about how Jeonghan didn’t give you any time to get dressed, but that would have exposed what went down between you two last night.

Neither of you had even mentioned to Seokmin about sealing the deal.

“Alright, so,” the Quartarion started, “how does this work?”

Jeonghan pulled out a ten dollar bill, a deformed-looking Twinkie, and a tiny bottle of bath salts from the pocket of his sweater. He laid them out carefully around the Right Hand of Doom before looking up at you and Seokmin. A smug grin spread across his face, but you and the angel were flabbergasted.

“A Twinkie?” you asked.

“He likes sweets,” was the extent of Jeonghan’s explanation.

“Primordial Outer God of space-time likes Twinkies. Good to know.”

“And the ten dollars?” Seokmin asked.

“He likes money, too,” Jeonghan said. Before either of you could question the bath salts, he pointed to the bottle and added, “These are just for the vibes.”

Nice.

“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued, “these types of invocations usually require human sacrifices or something along those lines.” Seokmin and him glanced in your direction at the same time, and you shot them each an icy glare. Jeonghan coughed into his fist. “We’re obviously not sacrificing you. I’m just saying he’s more likely to answer me because I’m a demon prince.”

Seokmin looked on edge. “So… are we starting?”

“I don’t want Y/N in the room,” Jeonghan answered.

“What?” you asked, shocked at the sudden dismissal. “Why?”

“He’s so powerful—even knowing of his existence can drive some mortals insane,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “Seokmin should be fine since he’s an angel, but there’s a chance you’d go mad if you heard his voice, so stay back until I say so.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You were already starting to get to your feet the second he mentioned mortals going insane.

“I’ll stand in the hallway, then,” you decided, far too curious to lock yourself in one of the rooms.

You watched as Jeonghan and Seokmin took each other’s hands quietly and exchanged a silent nod of understanding before closing their eyes. Jeonghan then started reciting some strange incantation that was far more complicated than the one you used to summon him. It seemed to drag on for close to a minute before the air around them went still. It was as if they were trapped in a time vortex, suspended in space while all you could do was wait for them to be released.

You took careful steps backward until you were against the wall, and then you sank down to the floor. As much as you tried to calm your nerves, you were riddled with anxiety. You had to physically hold your thigh down to keep it from bouncing.

Jeonghan didn’t tell you how exactly this would go. Hell, he probably didn’t know himself. Because you were so unaware, though, you weren’t sure if what was happening right now was normal or not. The two men weren’t even twitching or breathing; they were like still images.

Minutes stretched on. You weren’t sure how long it had been, but each passing second felt longer than it should have been. There was nothing you could do but wait. Stare at the motionless air around the two boys and wait.

It had probably been around half an hour when Seokmin’s eyes shot open with a loud gasp. You scrambled to your feet immediately, badgering the poor boy with questions to find out what happened while he was just trying to catch his breath. Jeonghan, on the other hand, looked the very image of tranquility when he opened his eyes.

“What is it?” you kept asking. “What happened?”

Seokmin had a strange, distant look in his eyes. He tried to speak several times, but no words came out.

“Could you get him something warm to drink, Y/N?” Jeonghan asked. “I think he’s in shock.”

“I’ll—I’ll make some tea,” you stammered, stumbling over your feet before you could start walking properly. “How about you? Are you—” You stopped yourself once you saw the hint of fear in Jeonghan’s eyes, and it chilled your blood. You couldn’t even fathom what they had just gone through. “I’ll get you a cup, too.”

It took two hours for the two men to recover—slowly but surely. You brought them tea and gave them time to process what they had just been through. It mainly consisted of you sitting to the side and keeping yourself from asking any questions. You figured they’d tell you if they wanted, but you weren’t in any position to press them.

Jeonghan seemed to feel bad for letting Seokmin tag along. He kept glancing at the angel with sad eyes, seeming remorseful. Then, he turned his attention to you. To your surprise, he walked over to where you sat on the couch to sit next to you and lay his head on your shoulder.

“Hey,” you called softly. “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded, although he didn’t look you in the eyes. “You should probably go to your room. Yog-Sothoth told us he’s thinking about my request, so he could be making up his mind any minute now.”

“You’re going back?”

“I guess. It was more like my consciousness was transported there instead of my physical body.”

He said it like it should have been no big deal, but the two were clearly unsettled by their visit. You weren’t sure how to feel about them going back. It could break Seokmin for good. Even though he was an angel-blood, he didn’t have the power that Jeonghan had.

“The fact that he listened to Jeonghan’s request means that he’s considering it,” Seokmin spoke up after a period of silence between you three. “It’s a good thing you didn’t go, Y/N. The Outerverse is the most terrifying realm I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to Alabama.”

You smiled a little. At least he seemed to be feeling more at ease now.

“They say Yog-Sothoth exists beyond our reality, so he can possibly see other streams of reality that aren’t connected to the branches of Creation,” Jeonghan explained. “That sounds insane, right? When you’re in the Outerverse seeing those pockets of different realities… it can make you go a little crazy. I mean, I’d give Hell a five star Yelp review over the Outerverse.”

Seokmin tucked his head in his folded arms. “I never wanna go to that place again.”

“Well, I’m not exactly planning to have my next birthday party there.”

“Mammon,” a voice boomed in your ears, and the sound itself was weird. There were undertones of echoes in its words, and you couldn’t even tell if the voice was in your head or not.

You didn’t have to ask who it was because the fear in Seokmin’s eyes was unmistakable. Jeonghan straightened up, panicked, but you assumed it was because you were still in the room because he swiftly placed his hands over your ears in an attempt to muffle the sound. You weren’t sure it would help, but you did feel safer that way.

“God of Time, I appreciate your presence.”

“I’ve decided to accept your offer,” Yog-Sothoth said. His voice sounded louder, even with Jeonghan’s hands over your ears. “I’ll help you.”

There was a way.

He removed his hands from the sides of your head, and you sat up straight again. You never thought those four words would light up so much hope inside you, but here you were, beaming like an idiot next to your demon boyfriend. There was a hope for a future between you and Jeonghan—hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives as humans. More importantly, there was hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives together.

For a moment, you were filled with doubt. There was so much at stake for this decision, and you couldn’t fathom someone loving you so much that they would give their world up for you.

“Jeonghan,” you murmured, “are you sure about giving up immortality?”

“I’d rather live a short life with you than spend the rest of eternity longing for what we could have had,” he declared with a fire blazing in his eyes. “I don’t want forever if it’s not with you, Y/N.”

His soft words coupled with his fierce gaze only sent butterflies to the pit of your stomach. You were hopeless when it came to Jeonghan; whatever he said left you like putty in his hands.

“Jeonghan,” Seokmin whispered, looking fearful. He was pointing at the makeshift summoning circle. “The Twinkie’s gone.”

So, the primordial Outer God of space-time was helping Jeonghan out because of a Twinkie. You decided against questioning why the all-powerful being was about to manipulate the fabric of reality over an over-glorified sponge cake.

“But,” Yog-Sothoth’s voice echoed in your ears as he spoke, “for this exchange, I require a sacrifice.”

“A sacrifice?” Jeonghan asked, frowning. “The Twinkie—”

“No, Mammon, not the Twinkie. I want you to bring me a loved one; an eye for an eye.”

You frowned. Jeonghan could split his soul into two—one residing in his demon form in Hell, and the other residing in his human body here—but he had to sacrifice someone he loved? You couldn’t understand how this was a fair exchange; he was already giving up a part of him for this ordeal.

“Sacrifice a loved one in exchange for what I want,” Jeonghan echoed, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’ve seen this before.”

“You have?” Your eyebrows narrowed. “When?”

“Avengers: Endgame.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Dude,” Seokmin chimed in, and you were starting to think you were the only one who understood the gravity of the situation. “This is literally Thanos sacrificing Gamora for the Soul Stone.”

“Stop embarrassing us in front of the Outer God!” you whispered harshly.

“Well,” Jeonghan started, his tone growing serious again, “I’m sure you know my choice.”

“Yes, I do.” Yog-Sothoth hummed, and something about it seemed calculative. You wanted to interject and ask Jeonghan what the hell he was talking about, but you felt like you were immobilized. “Very well, then.”

You looked at Seokmin to see if he understood what was going on, but he seemed just as confused as you were. Jeonghan just stared ahead, refusing to look either of you in the eye, and panic rose in your throat. You wanted to trust him, to confidently know that he wasn’t choosing you or Seokmin, but you really didn’t know who else it could have been.

Like Jeonghan told you before, demons didn’t care about anyone or anything. Only you and Seokmin were able to crack him open.

That was why horrifying realization was drawn across both of your faces. Jeonghan was choosing either you or Seokmin, and considering you were the reason he wanted to be mortal in the first place, you were terrified he was going to sacrifice Seokmin. And it seemed like Seokmin was terrified of that possibility, too.

You stood up and grabbed his shoulder. “Jeonghan, you—”

But before you could get any words out, you were sinking and the ground was swallowing you whole.

Everything went dark, and then silence followed.

You had gone under anesthesia once in your life. It was back when you were thirteen and the doctors had to perform an appendectomy on you. Being sedated didn’t feel like sleeping at all; it felt like closing your eyes and then waking up to a weird jumpcut in your memory. You remembered being extremely disoriented at first, not even realizing what had just happened to you.

Now, as your eyes fluttered open, you felt the same way.

You were tucked in your bed, which had to have been impossible because you were in the living room when everything turned black. You sat up to gather your bearings. Your head was a mess for a second, unable to focus on one thing at a time.

Jeonghan. Seokmin. Yog-Sothoth. Twinkies. Sacrifice.

The words etched themselves in your bones until you felt dread seep in. If you were still in your bed, completely unharmed, that meant Jeonghan had gotten rid of Seokmin. You looked down at your hands, and you realized they were shaking before you could stop yourself.

“Jeonghan!” you yelled, furious. Before he could hurry to your room, you stormed out, fighting back tears. Just as you thought, he was rushing down the hallway to see you, but you weren’t in the mood for a happy reunion. “How could you?!”

He looked confused. “Didn’t… didn’t you want this? I’m human now, Y/N.” A bright smile broke across his face. “Yog-Sothoth split my soul, so Mammon’s back in Hell where he belongs, but I’m here to stay as a human.”

You punched his shoulder. Hard.

“Okay, ow,” he complained. “Y/N, I—”

“Don’t,” you warned. Your voice was wavering and you could feel your throat closing up. “I don’t wanna hear it after what you did to Seokmin. You promised me you wouldn’t kill him!”

As if on cue, the angel-blood, who was supposed to be dead, peaked into the hallway from where he was in the living room. He had a bowl of ice cream in his hands, shaking his head at you repeatedly.

“I’m not dead,” he clarified, even though you could very clearly see that. “I’m alive.”

“Oh.” You had to take a step back because now, you were more confused than ever. “You’re alive.”

“You sound disappointed. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal your boyfriend.”

“I’m not! I’m… really fucking confused—wait, you found out we’re dating, too?” You turned to look up at Jeonghan. “Wait, so who’d you sacrifice, then? What happened after I blacked out? I feel like I’m so in the dark right now.”

Jeonghan looked down at his feet, suddenly glum. “I sacrificed my pet.”

“Mount Fu—I mean, Doljjong? I thought it was dead already?”

“No, my other pet.” He showed you his phone screen, which was on an article about Mount Vesuvius going extinct. “Jjongddol.”

“Oh, another rock.” You tried to sound sympathetic, but it was hard to feel bad for a volcano. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“He’s not even sad about it!” Seokmin argued, pointing his spoon at Jeonghan in an accusatory manner. “He gaslit the Time God!”

Jeonghan huffed. “I am sad, okay! Just because it took me a while to remember his name doesn’t mean I don’t have fond memories with Doljjong!”

“Jjongddol,” you corrected.

“Oh, right—Jjongddol!”

You smiled, taking his face into your hands. “You know what this means, though?”

Jeonghan looked at you, eyebrows lifting in pleasant surprise. “What?”

(“Oh, Christ, they’re gonna start making out,” Seokmin muttered and hurried back to the couch. “I’m gonna look for movies on the TV, Jeonghan!”)

“It means we finally have all the time in the world to ourselves, Yoon Jeonghan.” You got on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips, which he reciprocated almost immediately. “I’m a little sad I don’t have a guardian demon anymore, though, even if he sucked at his job.”

“Hey, I didn’t suck!” He pouted a little, which you laughed at. “Now, though, you get to show me how to be a proper human.”

“Oh, shoot. We need to find you a place to live since my lease only allows one person, and then we need to figure out getting your documents in order, and then—”

Jeonghan cut you off with a laugh. “I’m on board for all that, but I’d really like to celebrate my new life right now by watching a movie with my best friend and girlfriend.” He slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “And then tonight I’d like to—”

“Alright, alright!” you interjected, feeling your face go hot. “You know, the demon part of you might be gone power-wise, but I don’t know about personality-wise.”

“You love it, though.”

“Jeonghan, let’s watch Superbad!” Seokmin called from the living room.

“Okay!” Jeonghan turned to you and held out his hand. “Come on. I heated up popcorn and even put in some jalapeños for you.”

“Hey.” You stopped him, and you weren’t exactly sure why, but you felt so overwhelmed by your emotions at the moment. There were so many forces against you two, yet you still managed to fight the odds. A constant storm you both battled to stay together, and only now you felt like you could finally breathe. So, when Jeonghan looked at you, the words came out naturally. “I love you.”

He looked at you for a moment, before his face broke into one of those heartbreakingly beautiful smiles again. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

Now it was your time to smile and grab his hand. “Let’s go watch that movie.”

“Oh, is Y/N watching with us?” Seokmin asked.

“This may come as a shock, but this happens to be my apartment, Seokmin.”

And, as you three watched the movie, you and Jeonghan kept your hands interlocked, unwilling to let go. You thought it was beautiful how two hands could touch and forge a bond like no other. It must have been why you and Jeonghan had made it past every obstacle that came hurtling your way.

In some parallel universe out there, some stream of reality that didn’t branch from Creation, you and Jeonghan were probably normal people who found each other naturally. In that world, neither of you had to go through all the pain and suffering to find each other, to finally end up in each other’s arms.

But you would choose this reality over that one every single time. You would go through all the trails and tribulations for Jeonghan however many times you needed to because, at the end of the day, the love you two had for each other couldn’t compare to any other reality out there.

And you would never admit it out loud, but he was right; your guardian demon didn’t totally suck at his job.

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