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Gabriel loves like a war declaration.

Possessive. Intense. Overwhelming.

The moment someone looks at you for too long, his hand is already around their throat.

“Look elsewhere,” he growls, voice distorted behind the helmet visor. “Before I remove your eyes myself.”

The terrified soul stumbles away instantly.

Gabriel watches them leave with visible disgust before turning back toward you. His wings flare wide, glowing sharply in the dark, halo crackling with light behind his head.

“You keep attracting insects.”

His armored hand grabs your jaw suddenly- not enough to hurt, but enough to force your attention onto him completely. Gold-plated fingers press against your cheeks while he leans closer, towering over you.

“You are mine.” The words come harsh and immediate. “Act like it.”

Even dating him feels dangerous.

Gabriel demands attention the same way he demands obedience: aggressively, unapologetically, like refusal is impossible to imagine. He crowds into your space constantly, keeping a hand on your waist, your throat, your shoulder, always grounding you beside him like he’s daring anyone to challenge it.

And Heaven help the person who does.

“I am the Judge of Hell,” he snarls one night after catching someone flirting with you. “Do they truly believe I lack the authority to make examples?”

His swords scrape from their sheaths with a metallic hiss.

Justice. Splendor.

The air itself feels terrified.

But when you touch his armor lightly; just your hand against his chestplate.

Gabriel stills instantly.

The aggression doesn’t vanish.

It redirects.

His head lowers slightly toward you, halo dimming to a softer glow as his grip settles around your waist.

“…Stay close to me,” he says quietly, possessively. “I do not tolerate threats near what belongs to me.”

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