#i missed writing angst hehe

[calmlb]

WIP Wednesday

babyzai 3 angsttttt </333

[gomzdrawfr]

The night was quiet as the Captain stepped out into the open air, fresh out from a mission, the sharp chill of the morning bit at his skin but he hardly noticed due to the exhaustion. The sky was dark, save for the faint halo of the light from the idling helicopter in the distance, painting the floor and wall in hues of turquoise.

There he was, Nikolai.

He leaned casually against the aircraft, a cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers, one foot propped, his broad shoulders relaxed. His jacket was unzipped just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of his chest and all the hairy goodness beneath.

Even from a distance, Price could see the way Nik’s eyes were fixed on him.

Always waiting. Always there. Always steadfast. Just like he always had been. 

The first few snowflakes drifted slowly from the sky, mixing with the faint fog of Nikolai’s breath curling in the air and the smoke from his cigarette. Nik looked hot—there was no other word for it.

Okay, maybe there were few more words to describe the love of his life, but John couldn’t give a single bollock digging through the dictionary now. Not when Nik was standing there with his arms crossed, black hair slicked back yet slightly tousled. He looked like he belonged on the cover of one of those old male model magazines he’d been caught sneaking glances at in secret.

Something giddy and nearly childish bubbled in John’s chest, like spotting a bright candy from afar, something precious you’ve waited for your entire life. Before he knew it, he began walking. Boots crunched against the concrete beneath each step as his hands moved almost automatically, shrugging his helmet off, letting it fall to the ground with no care as his walk turned into a small jog, then a run. 

His goal was clear: to kiss his hot pilot husband.

By the time he reached Nik, his breath was shallow and his chest was heaving with something that wasn’t exertion, excitement maybe, but he stopped just short, his gaze lifting to meet Nik’s. 

Price paused, just for a second. He always did, right? Even after all this time, after a hundred kisses and then some, Price always had that fleeting moment of hesitation. A combination of gratitude, love and guilt stirred inside his chest. Nik had always waited, even now, through all the years it took John to come around, to gently removing and breaking down his defenses brick by brick, until he’d finally admitted what they both knew was inevitable. 

But tonight, John thought it wasn’t the nerves holding him back.

It was the way Nik was looking at him, staring at him like he was the centre of the universe, with those dark eyes softened and the corner of his eyes crinkled with adoration. The kind of look that had John’s knees buckled, the kind of look that screamed worship, that he was enough, that he was loved for exactly who he was. 

For Nik, he was roaming his eyes around John, observing the way the snowflakes gathered around John’s hair, blending with the white strands already there, the way they aligned and caught in the faint light made it shimmer like constellations, presenting John- his husband, in an otherworldly look. It was as if every star and planet had aligned to bring the John Price here, shaped from stardust gathered from the debris of the abyss and sent John crashing into his heart like a meteor.

If Nikolai too, could see himself as one of the stars in a galaxy of thousands, colliding with John to create the brightest supernova, perhaps then, he could erase the darker thoughts that lingered behind his love.

Nikolai had always thought himself akin to the black hole, pulling everything he loved into himself, consuming it with a selfish, unrelenting hunger. It was, and still is, a daily struggle to fight the unforgiving part of himself that believed he wasn’t worthy of Price. 

Nik leaned down slightly, nudging his nose against John’s, hearing the faint hitch in John’s breath, the reaction that always pulled a smile to his lips. The way Nik moved his nose to John’s cheek was slow and intimate, pressing lightly into the softness of the skin. Even as Nikolai can feel the way John breathed him in, the faint tang of ash and smoke with a mix of engine oil, the smell that reminded John something of warmth, of home, Nikolai still couldn’t quite shake off the pang of guilt. 

Nikolai wanted John wholly, completely, all of him, and that weight of need and want felt almost cruel. To love someone so much that it physically hurt, to want someone to the point of selfishness–it was hauntingly beautiful and unbearable at the same time. 

“Kissing under the first snow of the year,” Nik murmured, the cigarette between his fingers sizzled and forgotten, his voice rough with affection and a hint of the usual tease, batting off the uneasiness of his heart with humor, “like boys in a love story…звезда моя”. John huffed, rolling his eyes as his cheeks burned, a cute shade of red dusting his skin like apples. Nik almost cooed when the snowflake landed on his cheek melted away instantly, the heat of his embarrassment clear as day.

John didn’t bother responding, wanted to kiss Nik stupid as he leaned forward. Yet, as their lips were barely brushing and their eyes closed, the moment dissolved into something softer. Their breaths mingled, warm against their cold skin, and when they finally closed the distance–the kiss was slow and tender, like they were learning how to kiss all over again, and their worries faded away like the snow melting on the ground. 

Nik kissed the same way he loved, completely, boundlessly, consuming, and John allowed himself to be swallowed whole, to be taken completely by the gravity of Nik’s affection.

Because if there was any man that John would start a war for–even a cosmic one at that, it would always be him, and only him, his Nikolai. 

When they finally pulled back, with more snowflakes gathered around their head and their foreheads pressed together. Nik breathed out a quiet chuckle, “you’re blushing, John.”

John groaned, shaking his head, voice low yet filled with fondness. “Cheeky as ever, Nik.”

Merry Christmas Nekros!! I hope you like this lil present I wrote based on the breathtaking art :D special thanks to my friends and @karlachismylife for the help and inspiration :) ho ho ho to the nikprice community too!!

Returning from an op and immediately running to kiss your hot pilot husband under the first snow of the year 🌨️🚁

[astraystayyh]

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

[dissociative-waffle]

When sad boi hours happen, read angst! It’ll help tear you down further so when you read fluff suddenly everything doesn’t hurt as much

[acid-ixx]

brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

[forhyune]

‧ ❆ ˚ everything has changed (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth. 

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies. 

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.” 

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost. 

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It always did something to you, seeing how good Felix was with Byeol, how good he was to her. But it was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place. 

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?” 

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead. 

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too. 

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

permanent taglist (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ♡

© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

[mrs-weasley-reid]

JULY REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! I wanted to try something out to provide my full and utter support to all the amazing writers I've come across in the form of monthly rec fics (starting this month). Join me in giving them love through comments and reblogs. It really is a joy to hear how you're doing as a writer. It makes up for all the angst we write lol

I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. And the number of fics will depend on how much I've read the entire month. Also, please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+, so MINORS should not be interacting in any way, especially when the authors themselves specify it.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer Reid

✿ a question unasked by @easy-there-leftovers ↳ SOOOO ADORABLE. I'm a workaholic craze gal, so it speaks to me on a silly level.

✿ missing the happy hormone by @lavenderspence ↳ I'm a sucker for Spencer fluff this month, what can I say? This fic Tina made had my waterworks going on for about a minute because it's so sweet

✿ desk duty by @reiderwriter ↳ All you have to know is the amount of evil laugh I made while reading this

✿ the theory of love by @ophelia-is-complex ↳ Genuine intimacy is quite a challenge to write, but THIS ONE, this one had me in a sappy mood

✿ like nothing matters by @cerisereids ↳ gagged and had to pause the reading so many times because HELLO— had me spiraling at work

✿ the devils disguise by @qlossytbh ↳ I said I sobbed a little bit, but I actually cried so much I ended up taking a nap and felt better afterward. It's all fluff, though, don't get me wrong. I'm just very dramatic when the red devil's on the clock

✿ not so funny by @reidmania ↳ Angsty, that made me wanna start a fight with some random twiggy tall guy. Sooooo good!

✿ cloaked in passions touch by @raekensluver ↳ If you don't like Spencer's hands, you're fucking lying to yourself!!!!!

✿ language of devotion by @gghostwriter ↳ I'm in love with reid, and this fic just had me stumbling back onto his lap like a good gal

✿ this req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ Sorry, I'm not sure what the title is, but it's so adorable and got me to go to work, so kind of a lifesaver tbh

✿ hallucinate by @gghostwriter ↳ Oooo, this one was so cute, hehe. Honestly, I lean towards Spencer fluff lately just because I've been too overstimulated with work this past month, so READ THIS ONE ITS CUTE

✿ it's golden, like daylight by @dudeitiskarev ↳ I actually felt like I was reader the entire time I read this. It's well-written and so adorable and something that should be framed in a museum

✿ much ado about nothing series by @incognit0slut ↳ binged it all morning, and I was whipped !!! It's ongoing, so if I have to wait, so does everybody else

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ choiceless hope series by @hotchfiles ↳ This series had me rolling over my bed on a Saturday. A lot of feelings getting played (mostly mine)

✦ beanstalk by @solardrop ↳ I kid you not; I was giggling like a weirdo when I read it. And that itself deserves the recommendation.

✦ too busy being yours by @hotchfiles ↳ Lari knows how to get a sick gal to giggle. I love bau!rossi!reader. I love Rossi as reader's dad, so I enjoyed it more than I thought I would

✦ ignorance by infatuation by @boneblushed ↳ Oh, this one was a nice snack while on my break at work. LOVED IT SO MUCH

✦ hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi ↳ Mmmm, such a good read! Plus Jemily is there sooooo

✦ from across the bar by @hotchscoffeecup ↳ Evil laugh ensues. A nice cuppa of some good ole kinky stuff

✦ doomed by @hotchfiles ↳ guys, I stopped my car in the middle of driving home just to read it, so it's THAT good. Honestly, I strongly encourage everyone to read all of Lari's works! She's my writer crush, if none of you realized it by now

✦ a bunch of cuties in love by @lavenderspence ↳ hehehehehehe this definitely did not remind me of that one older guy I used to flirt with who had an adorable younger brother that I babysat🤭

✦ schrodinger's cat by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ angst on a Saturday morning is like taking a shot of soju before 11 am, and this one felt like it <3

how about you also comment your top 3 fave fics for this month to spread more love to our great writers?

[hyukascampfire]

𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗

  ⨾𓍢ִ໋ ˒˒ 𝚑𝔢art𝚠𝔬rm

[𝑛]. a relationship or friendship that you can't get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

〝﹙ 📼 ﹚“I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?”  ˛ ､､

wc ➛ 17.9k

𝔭airings childhood bsf!kai x reader (lowkey soulmates?) ⤷ ft. asshole!yeonjun x reader

𝒢 ‎; smut ˒ angst ˒ some fantasy

𝔴arnings angst, family issues, fingering, jealousy (i’m sorry i just love ts), yeonjun really is an asshole, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, unprotected sex (they're stupid!), strength kink a lil bit, breeding kink, possessiveness, creampie, choking... i think that's all, lmk if i missed any

✎୭ ashlynn's note omg. this was such a fun palate cleanser to write. this wasn't supposed to be as big as it is, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and i got super into the story. this kai is SOOOO!! yeah. i’m so nervous posting this because i’ve only ever posted TSFAWC, but…. here you areee (^^;; this is not proofread, so if you see a mistake... give me a sec. i'll get to it. hehe

Though you fan your hand furiously over your face, the little breezes washing over your clammy skin are not enough. The air is thick and heavy with summer’s heat. So thick that you almost feel it each time you swallow. It’s better than just letting yourself melt away, though. The cushion at your back doesn’t help much. It holds your warmth and returns it to you the longer you sit slumped back into it. You suffer it though—you’ve gone too sluggish to move.  

You let a leg dangle over the arm of a chair, watching a hopeful moth dance in the light of the buzzing porch light overhead. It flutters frantically in it, making a grand fight to reach that false moonlight, only to drop away when it realizes that it’s being burnt. You watch it rinse and repeat, relentless and sure, for who knows how long. It’s no special moth—no luna moth or the ones with the pretty pink wings—but the light falls down on it and colors it a pleasant stardust silver.  

You delight in letting your conscious brain turn off to watch it. It lets you forget the sweltering under your skin, and also that Kai had drug you out here. His dad gives him shit when he plays inside, but it’s way too hot to be out here. Isn’t it supposed to cool off after the sun goes down? It doesn’t feel like it. The deep acoustics are drowned out each time a car whirrs by. Playing outside should be the best option, but you and Kai live right on a busy road.  

When the roar of some car going ten miles over the speed limit doesn’t obscure his playing, though, you admire the intricacy of it. His fingers work up and down the neck, jumping frets that you imagine would be impossible to anybody without those long fingers of his. You had always been a loud supporter of his playing, even way back when the most he could play were simple chords, but you became especially so when a few years back he put a guitar in your hands and tried teaching you. Even with his fingers guiding yours, it was quick to learn that the effortlessness with which Kai handles the instrument is hard earned.  

He practices on the acoustic guitar, but that’s not his domain. With houses just a dash across the street from each other, Kai had grown up at your home more than he had at his own. So vividly, you remember the stars in his eyes when he’d listen to your dad’s music. Metallica, The Smashing Pumpkins, Linkin Park, any of it. He had fallen in love with it a long time ago. Your whole life you knew that it was only a matter of time before he was in his own band, chasing his dreams with a boundless mind and an indelible vision of himself on stage. How had that time come so soon, though? You don’t know if the notebooks full of inky lyrics that live wherever he deems inspiration might hit him make you proud or nervous. He’s making good on his dazzling aspirations, and you? 

You speak finally into the air, cutting through heat waves and his music and the night. “Isn’t it weird that we’re not going back to school after this summer?” 

He doesn’t have to even stop playing to answer you. Playing comes to him as a second nature. “Kinda,” he answers, brown eyes flitting up to you. “But it’s not like you won’t be back to it in September. College is the same shit.” 

The leg you’d been dangling and bouncing pauses. That’s right; you’re supposed to be going to that college you’d chosen because it was only a three-hour drive away from here. You pluck at the seat’s threadbare fabric, and the moth, still there, becomes oh-so-interesting once again. When his playing stops, you drop your head back with a cushioned thud and a groan that you wrangle in your throat. 

“Why are you acting like that?” he says, voice gone sharp like accusation. He doesn’t even know the truth, but he’s known you too long.

Can’t you just keep secrets for yourself, sometimes?

Kai, arms clad in a well-loved hoodie even in this dreadful weather, lays the guitar down. You maintain your silence. “Seriously, what?” 

Some secrets have timers, though. This one could only last you until about September, or even August when he realizes that you’re not preparing to return to school. A controlled sigh from your chest isn’t enough to soothe the nerves that sparks. “Nothing.” 

“Secrets, huh?” Kai says. When you do finally look to him, black spikes of hair frame his eyes and the accusation in them. 

It’s a simple poke, but it gets under your skin as sharp as any thorn might. It’s not like you don’t keep secrets from him, and you’re sure he keeps some from you too. But those are the little kinds, the inconsequential ones—like I ate already when asked why you’re not eating or like Yeah, I’m fine when it’s been a bad day. You don’t hide this kind of stuff from each other. Usually, you’d run over to his place to tell him whatever’s bothering you. Why not, when he’s known even the worst details of your life for almost the entirety of it? You’ve been holding this one close to your chest since somewhere around the end of senior year, though. The longer you let it fester, the worse your nervousness snowballs. “C’mon, Kai. Let’s not do this. Can you keep playing?” 

He doesn’t like that, of course. But you watch recognition dawn over his chocolate brown eyes, helpless to stop it. “You’re not going,” he says. It’s not a question nor a suspicion, it’s a bone-dry fact.  

Well. There that goes. You want to tear every hair on your head right out. Why had you even thought you’d keep him in the dark about it? When he’s not out in some garage making music, you two are together. The conversation was going to stroll by at some point; this was only inevitable. His disappointment radiates off him in waves and blisters you. He hasn’t even said anything yet, but you know exactly what he thinks of it. It’s why you kept it from him in the first place.  

Your silence is enough confirmation for him. “Why?” he says. “I thought you were excited to move out.” 

Wincing, you nod slowly. You were. Even went through the whole application process, along with most other kids your age. Ultimately, you never went through with declaring a college. You don’t exactly know why, but somewhere weaseled down in the shadowy recesses of your soul, you know. Taking those steps, the massive and terrifying ones from adolescence into adulthood, meant agreeing that this form of your life was over. It meant that at some point, you’d be moving away from here to where living your days away in Kai’s room would not be a choice. Everybody has to do it eventually, you know that. Kai’s music gig could take off any day, too. He’s going to make it happen. And then what? All this stalling and wishing on just a bit more time would mean nothing, he’d be off and chasing that dream. As excited as you are for it to finally become reality for him, there’s a nasty bitterness that’s budded in your chest, infecting your person.  

Can’t things just stay like this? 

“I was,” you say. It comes out of your mouth heavy.  

“Then why aren’t you going?” he says. Crickets, never seen but always heard, sing their song into the night’s darkness. “You didn’t get rejected. You’re too smart for that.” 

An ache sits heavily somewhere near the center of your chest, maybe over your heart. All those good grades, nights spent bent over a desk and AP paperwork—you’re wasting it. You shake your head. “No... just...” It’s an effort to dress your thoughts in a way that might appease him. A quiet moment stretches with your thinking before you continue, “I don’t know what I want to do.” 

He doesn’t like that, the yellow wash of the overhead light dancing over his taut lips and hard eyes. “Don’t know what you want to do?” he says, bringing his legs up onto the seat to crisscross them. He wears his favorite jeans. They’re heel-bitten and baggy enough over his legs that he can wear them around the house without any bother. “You’ve wanted to be an artist your whole life. You know exactly what you want to do.” 

Your chest only seems to ache harder. When the both of you were only young and hopeful, you both had big dreams. Kai was going to be the face of a metal band, and you were going to be an artist. A painter, potter, sculptor, even doing animation for those big companies like Dreamworks and Disney. You wanted any of it, just as long as you were doing art. You’d even promised him that you’d do the cover art for his albums with interlocked pinkies and flushed, hopeful cheeks. That passion and love wasn’t gone from you, it blazed strong in your veins. This blaze wasn’t the kind that kept you warm and excited to push forward into life, though. It had morphed into something that scalded you when you got too close or started imagining yourself pursuing its call. It’s a taunting silvery glow, no longer a guiding north star. Taunting words of family members stamped down on that hope hard. When you were little, it was said lighthearted and in passing. The older you got, though, the more serious their faces became. They wouldn’t say it outright perhaps, but you hear what they think well enough. Art is a dead-end career.  

Shifting in your seat, you tell him, “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean?” Kai says. “There are good colleges for that.” 

“I just... don’t know.” 

Shaking his head, he tells you, “But you love it.” 

You do. In its every form, you love creating. But loving it doesn’t mean that it’s right for you, or that you should trust your future in its hands. “I think I can do it in my own time,” you say, finally pushing yourself upright from the cushion. “Don’t wanna kill the passion by doing it for a living, you know?” 

He thinks on that for a moment. “If you love it, you should do it,” he says. 

An awful frustration bubbles in your chest. Kai has always had a clear life path, the steps ahead of him set in stone and waiting for him to follow in them. It’s hard for him to see why you might not want to do the same. There’s nothing that makes you as happy as the fact that he has it all figured out, that he knows just where he’s going and that he’s so incredible at it that he doesn’t have to worry about meeting the requirements, but your path seems obscured and untrodden. Punctuating a deep, resonant sigh, you say, “It’s not that easy, Kai.” 

“If you’re not doing that, then what are you going to do? Are you just going to settle for a nine-to-five?” he says full of accusation, the tapping on his knees gone still.  

A dry laugh, you say, “Maybe I’ll marry a super rich guy and just do my art for a living. No nine-to-five.” 

His face flashes. He’d always been a bit reserved, especially around others, but he bared his emotions freely around you. You hold them dearly to your chest and made sure to do your best to make good on that trust. He says, “You’re more than some guy’s housewife.” 

Cheeks radiating in the heat, you snort. “I know, dork. I’m a rockstar’s best friend. It’s my personal favorite achievement.”  

His face sours when you reach out and pinch hard at his cheek, but he doesn’t pull away or brush you off. The skin there is warmed and clammy. Really, the two of you should go meet the cool AC inside before you suffer heat stroke. But this moment feels so nice—your shoulders feel tons lighter without something to hide. If you had it your way, things would stay like this forever. Just the two of you, sat here like you have so many times before, just taking for granted the time you’ve got together.  

His mouth opens to banter, probably something about how he’s not a rockstar yet or to get you back for calling him a dork. Wingbeat and sterling dashes about your face send the image into a blur, though. You’re a quick mess of limbs and a whipping head, as if it’ll chase the thing away from you. 

“Seriously?” Kai says. You’d climbed halfway over him, elbows digging into him and knee doing a number on his thigh. “It’s a moth. You’re not scared of moths.” 

Lingering for a few moments later to ensure the flying thing was nowhere on you or around you, you hold back a laugh before you climb off him and fix your hair with undignified tucks behind your ears. “He was in my face,” you say around a laugh, because you know it was a bit too much. Nobody likes wings in their ears and spindly legs in their face, though, and you’re in no control of what you do when anything with six legs tries and get too friendly. Even moths.  

“You just wanted me to protect you,” he says. A sarcastic, shit-eating smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.  

“Oh,” you scoff, batting your eyelashes and clasping your hands together all saccharine-sweet. “Yes, Romeo, won’t you kill that bug for me? This girl’s heart just can’t take it!” 

Kai’s nose crinkles, and the playful light twists into a glare. “Nasty.” 

“That’s how you sounded,” you say. “I only reacted accordingly.” Laughing, you kick your legs out over his lap and sprawl back out. He takes the guitar back into his hands. 

As much as you want to escape the mugginess, you’ll survive it for just a little while longer—if only with the force of an indulgent heart. The eternal moments are those you allow to linger.  

⚝⭒ 

Some things, you forget when you’re older. Maybe it’s time’s hand, eroding memories down and stuffing more in the longer you live to experience them. But also maybe because they’re the sort of things you can’t say in the adult world without a laugh in the face and a look from down their noses.  

This memory is one of those forgotten things. It’s moth-bitten and dusty, something you one day folded up in a moving box and decided to never revisit. 

You’d been down at the creek. Kai and you had spent so many summer days there. It wasn’t too far from home, just past the filbert trees and into the shallow neck of the backwoods, but there you were out of sight and free to get up to nothing good. It was a wonder your mom ever let you do it. Kai’s dad didn’t care too much where he went or what he did, but your mom dug her claws in deep. You like to think that she imagined you two would have each other, if anything ever happened. 

Usually, you’d be there holding your jeans up from the stream and Kai would be letting his jeans go dark with it. The bite of water was nice as it washed over warm skin. Fun was a simple thing to find, then. You dug your fingers into the mudbanks and tossed stones way too big to be throwing at each other, just because you two remembered how much the adults hated it when you did. Then, you’d drag tired limbs home avoiding sweetgum tree spikes that had fallen to the ground and dug splinters out from your feet.  

This day, you had been in the blackberry bushes. It was maybe late July or early August, and they’d gotten heavy on their branches. You’d waited until the smell of them, summer-warmed, was sweet and cloying in the air to pick them. With buckets in your hands, you plucked only the fattest berries from their bunches. Your fingers were stained a delightful purple and perhaps a bit thorn raw, but you didn’t mind much then. You plucked for hours, and it was dusk before you could catch it. Dinner was no doubt waiting for you back home. 

“There’s a bunch over here,” Kai had said. He reached a long boyish arm, still awkward and lanky with puberty, up high for ripe bush. You finished off picking before climbing around thick branches sticking out to take a peek. A bunch, there was. 

When you went to drop a handful of them into your bucket, Kai hissed. He’d been snagged by a vicious looking branch, those ones as thick as a finger with thorns to match and you’d warn each other tongue-in-cheek to watch out for that one. He’d worn those ridiculous shorts that day, the ones that looked half pants half shorts with how long and baggy they were, and the claws of the bush had jumped at the opportunity. At first the scrapes were white, but then red blood crawled out and down his leg.  

“Kai,” you said, some parts chiding and some parts just wondering how he’d managed that. You surveyed his leg for a bit, and then determined that he should wash his leg off in the stream. He walked there strong, but of course you noticed the hobble beneath his acting. When you squatted down into the dry grass and cupped water to wash off his leg, you laughed. 

“What?” he had said, holding the shorts up. You covered your laugh with a hand, but it erupted past your palm. You remember the glare on his face very well.  

You still laughed. “You’re stupid,” you had told him. 

“I didn’t see it,” he said. “I tripped over it because it was sticking out.” 

That time when you brought your hands to catch some water, there was a twinkle in its surface. You didn’t notice it for a second. The creek moved fast and you could see a lot of things in its reflection. When it lingered, that’s when your brows furrowed. It seemed to twirl, dancing around like alive over the stones. 

The sound of Kai’s voice remains with you. “Hey,” he had said, strong to call your attention but also wavered with uncertainty. 

When you looked up, there was silver dust dancing around you. 

It was fluffy and whorling, fine silver stardust. It’d moved weightless in the air, as though it barely existed. In the center of it were a few moths. They seemed to be made of sterling powder just as the dust was, and they glowed against dusk’s backdrop. If your memory serves you right, there had been a sweet hymn of coos from them. They beckoned you. Summer’s heat felt lighter, and so did your chest. You wondered where they had wanted you to go. 

Almost afraid that if you spoke they might have fluttered away, you whispered soft and low to Kai. “What is that?” He was stood frozen there, pant leg still scrunched up in his fist. Stardust glowed soft in his brown eyes while he took it all in, you remember. It wasn’t a scared frozen. You weren’t scared, either—rather, it was as if that lightness had found its way into the core of your being and brushed over it with mending hands. 

He whispered back, “I don’t know.” How could he have known? It was absurd. 

Those whisps had beckoned you, flowing toward the deeper woods. The soft moths, their murmuring brushing up against your ears, seemed to wait for you to follow. You remember a pull, soft tendrils wrapping themselves around your heart and the yearning it planted there.  

But there was also this reluctance, a bone-deep answering that had told you: No. You’re not ready. 

“Kai, I wanna go,” you told him. 

You didn’t even need to tell him twice. Berry buckets forgotten; the journey home was a stranger one. When your dad asked why you returned from berry picking emptier handed than you had left the house, Kai and you only shared a look. You pair kept that evening at the creek hidden so well that it became more forgotten than shared secret.  

⚝⭒ 

Once, you had been the type of girl that loved being around family. Some of your favorite days of your life were spent in this living room, T.V. roaring over bouncing conversation. Some of those nights ended in rosy cheeks and laughs, and some ended with words thrown angry like fireworks. You never knew which you’d be getting, but you endured the fear of not knowing because it was a simple love—the basic kind built with biology into you the moment your infant skin touched your mother’s. You endured it because eventually, sleep washed away the bad taste left in your mouth and you forgave them quick, sometimes quicker than you ought to, and things would go on as if it hadn’t even happened. You endured it because you could handle its burden, if only to feel the warmth you feel when it’s a good day.  

Kai was always there—his dad was hardly home, so he found family in yours. When you were younger, you’d been embarrassed he was there for caustic, spitted words and intimate fights. Now, you’re just grateful for his shoulder.  

So, yes. Once, you had loved being around your family. But things feel tenser now, nights spent all together less frequent and when they do happen, they’re tainted by a strange air. You think that this strangeness is new, but an awful worry also makes you think that it’d always been there, that you only feel it now because you’ve grown into your adult mind. A hollow ache stakes its claim in your chest, declaring that it won’t leave until you find that youthful ignorance and joy once more. You think that it might stay there forever. 

Bare feet bounding down the stairs, you make a rare appearance downstairs. The cupboard is only half open to make way for a snack raid before your mom’s voice cuts through the air. You know quickly just by the look on her face that you should’ve stayed upstairs. 

“Hey,” she says, gathering laundry into a basket. “You’ve been applying to jobs?” 

With an anxious belly, you tell her, “Yeah. A few. They’re not really, like, ideal, but I sent applications.” You don’t remember when it got hard to look into your mother’s eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to do so now.  

“Not ideal?” she says. “It’s not like you can be picky. Mcdonalds or wherever, I don’t care, you’re going to need to get a job if you’re staying here.” 

“I know. I applied,” you reiterate around a mumble. You close the cabinets, not so interested in a snack anymore. “I just... I don’t know, ma. I don’t want to do that for a living, going between those sorts of jobs.” 

Face hard and abrasive against the truth you bare, she does that awful taunting smile that makes you feel small. Stupid. “You’re not going to college, so that’s what it’s gonna be. You can’t sit up there and draw for a living. You’ve gotta get into the real world, get some real experience.”  

There’s a burst of hurt in your chest, dazzling and gnawing. She’s getting closer to saying how she really feels about your dreams out loud every day. Your face burns and so do your eyes, knot thick in your throat. “Yeah, okay. Got it,” you say, nodding. You’re at the front door before you even know it, slipping on shoes and fighting the greatest internal battle to will back tears. She’d use those against you, no doubt about it. “I’m going to Kai’s,” you throw over your shoulder.  

Whatever she barks back at you, you’re glad you don’t hear. Bells on some old Christmas decoration hung on the door that had yet to be taken down, even into summer, jingle and wash it away for you. 

Kai’s brows shoot up when he opens the door to your face crumpling. You’d done so well at damming it up, but the wall cracks and the water crashes through once you see him. If it were anybody else, you’d feel icky and attention seeking, but you’d held Kai to your chest through gut-wrenching sobs as much as he’s done it for you. Without question, he takes you into his arms, warm hand running up and down your back. The warm soothing is so familiar. You melt right into it.  

He keeps you there for a long moment. Then, his chest rumbles as he tells you, “Come on.” The walk through the AC to his bedroom is nice. Having a house like Kai’s to come to where it can just be you is nice, too. You step around the mess of clothes and scattered belongings on his floor like you have a muscle-memory roadmap of his room. Boxsprings creak and hard mattress welcome you back home. His room is dark as always, a night-dweller you call him. The array of peeling band posters plastered over walls you two had painted blue some years ago, when it’d been his favorite color, don’t help to lighten it up. He keeps a low lamplight on.  

“She never listens to me,” you say, crying gone to occasional sniffles from your chest. You rest your cheek on your bent knee. 

“I know,” he says. “But at least she cares about you. Pays attention to you.” His voice is soft and deep and right next to you. Always right next to you, there for you even when you might not appreciate it as you should.  

His dad cares too little what he does, and yours care too much. The grass is always greener on the other side, you know it. Still, you hold a fantasy where you’re able to do teenager stuff. Where you’d allow yourself to do bad things, because you weren’t so intent on painting yourself with their will. You two hold eyes for a long moment, your twinkling ones caught in that steady brown. “I just want to get away. Be my own person.” Your words are muffled in the softness of your skin. 

“You had the chance to do it,” Kai says, hand playing with your fingers. “But you didn’t.” 

Holding your legs closer, you lick your lips. What do you say to that? Would it ever be the time to tell him that you did it because you think that your soul is pathetically intertwined with his, and that it might snuff your lifeforce out to even try pursuing life without him? Without this? How do you tell him that you’re so frozen and unwilling to pursue any sort of future because it means accepting that this chapter is over? You clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge its end.  

“Kai,” is all you say, trembled and thick. It’s not just your mother’s words that dig at you and tear to shreds the last bits of what dreaming you had left in you, but so many other reality checks too. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard those sorts of words, urging you forward. You can only dig your heel into the ground for so long before you’re swept away in time’s ruthless, endless moving.  

He understands. Lifting your face with warm fingers against your cheeks, he says, “Hey. How about we go get ice cream, or something?” 

Ice cream does sound nice. “Dairy Queen?” 

Smirk tugged over his mouth, he says, “Yes, Dairy Queen. A blizzard. C’mon, let’s go.” Sliding off the bed, he offers you an urging hand up. 

But you falter. “I don’t know if we can. She’s mad at me. I don’t think she’ll let me go.” 

“Let you go?” he says, eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to let you go. You’re an adult now, you go if you want to.” He offers his hand to you again. 

It’s so him, freely going wherever he ordain it. The bullheadedness is very him, as well. Always the devil on your shoulder, he was the root of any rebellious thing you’ve ever done. He could never understand your apprehension, or why getting in trouble was such an awful thing to you. “I have to ask to get money.” 

Brows pinching, he says, “You think I’m not gonna pay for you? You don’t need them to give you money, I’ll pay. I’ll take care of it.” He drags you up from the bed this time. “Live a little. Do you want to go?” 

It was never the punishments or the getting in trouble that you were scared of, though. Disappointment was a scarier word than grounded. Sneaking out and those sorts of things, it’s not like you had angel wings at your back and never considered them. It’s that you are deeply, utterly terrified of changing how they look at you. You begin to tell him, “I do, but—” 

He cuts you off, adamant. “Then do it. Let’s go. If you want to go, then go,” he says. “At some point, your life needs to become your own. It’s not sneaking out when you’re graduated and eighteen years old, it’s going wherever the hell you want. You’ve... You’re gonna end up stuck here, in this town, forever. You don’t deserve that.” 

That sounds like both the best and the worst thing you’ve ever heard. You take his hand.  

⚝⭒ 

Your frozen fingers nurse your ice cream. The cup itself is cold, but the Dairy Queen on your side of town is always thirty degrees below what it should be. It’d always been that way. Even way back when you two couldn’t drive, you’d get dropped off here to escape the melting weather and get a frozen treat with a handful of dollars. Each time, you’d start off sagging with the relief of summer’s weight off your shoulders and left the place shivering and sugar-mouthed.  

It’s really only you two in here. You crinkle your nose when he takes a spoonful. “Out of all the flavors...” 

Unbothered and no doubt expecting you to say it, he offers you a flat, “You get your flavor, I get mine.” He makes a point of taking an extra-long bite. His lips linger around the red plastic of the spoon and his brows rest high in silent challenge.  

The corners of your lips twitch up. “Hmm. Well. I just have a hard time believing that Oreo... or, like, brownie fudge, is right there, and you actually want M&M. I don’t get how M&M your favorite.” A familiar banter falls over your tongues. Your heart buzzes and your cheeks radiate. This is the first you’ve done this all summer, and it’ll be weaning off into fall soon. Any other summer, you would’ve been here on all the hottest days. You hate that Kai’s been so busy with his music; you hate that you can hear the resounding ticks of the clock counting down your time. You also hate that the stubborn depths of you still believe that if you freeze yourself here in stasis that the world will relent and stop along with you. 

You look over the sharp lines of Kai’s jawline as it feathers with his chewing, and the broadness of his shoulders where his jacket stretches around it, and the starkness of his collarbones against his chest and the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallows. No, time doesn’t stop. Some of him remains the same, though. In it, you see the boy that had love creeping up on you so long ago, with all its aching and all its hope. That freckle on the column of his neck, the bump in his nose leading down to the button tip that beckons your lips to steal a quick kiss.  

And, those lips. They’re as soft as ever around the discontented grimace he pulls. “M&M isn’t my favorite.” 

With a pursed mouth and patronizing brows arched over your eyes, you say, “Oh, huh. That’s funny, because if my memory serves me right, it’s the only flavor you’ve ordered for the past... six years.”  

Kai husks a laugh at that. “That’s because they haven’t had my favorite for years,” he tells you, scooping up the final bit and then pushing it off to the side. “It was a blizzard of the month that they discontinued. The blackberry cheesecake one. I made peace with it, though. It lives on in my heart.” He grins, arms crossed over his chest and his back settled into the booth seat to let you finish your cup.  

“Blackberry cheesecake,” you say, voice made taunting. Your nod is slow and taunting, too. “Well, forget M&Ms. Why would blackberry cheesecake be your favorite? Ever?” 

His face falters, a moment where something flows over his eyes as if reliving a memory in a few short seconds. Then, he shrugs. “It just is.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever,” you laugh. “Maybe my palate is unrefined.” Imagining the tarte fruit in purple swirls of ice cream, you’re taken back to a humid July day and the scent of churned mud.  

The strange memory unfolds itself quick. As if it were waiting for you to find wherever it’d hidden itself away. With a sharp gasp, you say, “Oh my god, Kai. Do you remember that one day? That weird stuff we saw down at the creek?” 

He nods. “Yeah. I was just thinking of that the other day, actually...” 

Less interested in finishing your cup now, you let the spoon rest. “What?” you say, the word peaking in the middle. That day hadn’t crossed your mind once since it’d happened. “How weird is that?” 

Scoffing a laugh, he says, “Weird, yeah. Just as strange as two kids high on fermented berries.” 

That draws a breathy laugh from you. “Is that what you think it was?” you ask him with knitted brows. The berries had been fresh, and you two had popped plenty into your mouth. But no doubt, you’d have spat them right back out if they were that ripe. “I mean, we saw the same thing.” 

“It happens to animals all the time. Squirrells, and stuff.” He lends you a gallic shrug. “We just freaked ourselves out. Like that one time you said you saw the shape of something in the dark and we freaked out. And it was clothes.”  

Well, hallucinating, in tandem, a glowing mist because you two by chance ate fermented berries is a very long shot. However nonchalant he acts about it, he seems to have thought long and hard about it. Enough to reason it away with some far cry explanation. Would you have even been able to get drunk off a handful of fermented berries? And, god, you’re really sure that you’d have noticed. That taste isn’t really one you just don’t notice.  

Whatever. Maybe you were just drunk idiots. That’s a lot easier to swallow, anyway. 

“Okay, but you saw that. Did it not look sinister?” you say. With your spoon back in your hand, you punctuate the sentence pointing it at him. “You freaked out with me, too.”  

An unsatisfied scowl on his lips, he steals a spoonful of your dessert. You don’t even swat him away—your phone buzzes in your pocket. 

Catching sight of who’s calling, you share a long look with Kai. It’s funny, how fast those three white letters scramble you up. When you hesitate to answer, Kai tells you, “Answer.” 

You hope she can’t tell you’re not at Kai’s by the refrigerators’ dull buzzing. It’s an effort to tussle that invasive worry back. You’re at Dairy Queen. Getting ice cream with the boy she’s known since childhood. She should clutch her hands and thank the sky that you’re here, not out in some nasty frat house like you could be. You thumb the green button. 

Her voice comes through the speaker crackled and asking you to run over to do a quick dish load. For a heartbeat you consider telling her that you will and then start rushing home. Instead, you fork out the truth through resistant lips. 

The hangup tone sits heavy on the air between you and Kai. Having listened to the whole thing on speaker, he says, “What was so hard about that? The world didn’t end, did it?” 

The plush of your lip takes a hard gnawing. No, it hadn’t. “I know she’s not going to get mad at me for just going here,” you say as you rest your elbows onto the table. “It’s that they’re supporting me right now. I still live under their roof. The more I go around and insist I can do whatever I want, they’ll start reminding me of it.” 

His face drawn, he lets his mouth twitch to one side. “Yeah,” he muses. “I never thought yours would be the type to kick you out.” 

Kai’s dad had started threating him with getting kicked out years ago, when he first started telling him that he wanted to do music. How many times had he let reluctant tears flow into your shoulder over it? Because music wasn’t a real job? Back then, you’d whispered in his ears that he’d become everything he’d dreamed of and more as your fingers carded through shaggy locks of hair.  

“I don’t know,” you say, humming it out noncommittally. “Is your dad still... y’know?” 

Nodding slowly, his eyes tell. “Yeah. Always.” 

“Because you’re taking the band seriously, now?” you ask.  

“Probably. I don’t give a shit what he thinks about it. If I’m just his goddamn problem, I’ll give him what he wants soon enough.” His eyes blaze with promise of it.  

It takes a bit out of you to not wince. Kai living anywhere but in the house across from yours is wrong. “I don’t think he necessarily wants that, Kai...” You take his hand in your icy ones, the urge to reach out to him thinly veiled under the guise of searching out warmth. He’d always run warmer than you—your personal heater. “It’s probably because he can see that you’re doing it for real. Not just saying it anymore.” 

“Yeah, well,” he spits, “I can’t fucking wait to see what he’ll say to me when I make it. That piece of shit, though, he wouldn’t even care. It’s not like he ever gave a shit about me enough for it to matter.” 

But, it matters to you, you want to tell him. You understand his need to throw it all in his face, though. “Is that one label going to sign you? The one you were talking about?” 

His tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “They haven’t yet. I don’t know. But I don’t need that money to get out of here, I’ve been working on it.” 

“They will,” you say. “But, where would you go? Not too far?” You try and keep it light and playful, even as your heart aches. 

“Come with me,” he says. It’s painfully blunt, as if it were that simple. “Let’s go get and apartment; you and me.” 

“Kai...” you say. “You don’t have to drag me along because you feel bad.” 

The idea doesn’t sound half bad, though.  

“What?” His face tightens, as if somewhere under the surface your words had scraped somewhere tender. “You don’t have to stay here forever. Please. I want... I want you to come with me. You wouldn’t have to even tell them; just bring all your stuff and go together. We could do it together. Like we said we would.”  

“We were like, five. Everybody tries to pretend running away at five,” you deadpan. It’s a washy attempt at lightening things back up. 

Living with him, moving out together, should feel like everything you’ve ever wanted. And, maybe it is. But, he’s not asking you to live with him the way you want him to. Not in the way that your aching heart wishes he would.  

Kai doesn’t share the laugh you give him. “Yeah, okay,” he says, leaning into the table.  

Perhaps you should consider the potent disappointment he’s terribly masking with a face of indifference, though. 

⚝⭒ 

Slowly, the knots in your belly have worked themselves out. When Kai had dropped you off, they’d been so awful that you felt borderline sick. You sat the whole ride there in his old beat-up truck picking at your nails and rambling to him. He listened to you the whole time. And then when it was time to walk in, it had least felt a little easier to do so with his eyes on you, watching to make sure you made it in safely. 

You’d gotten a job. It’s not too bad, folding clothes out on display. It would be nice if they kept the lights a bit brighter, but you’ll get used it eventually, you hope. 

Most of your coworkers are around your age, but the one showing you the ropes... your heart had fluttered. 

“You’ll get it,” Yeonjun says. The smile you find on his lips once he straightens up from placing product on a display is smooth and smug. Sleek strands of black hair fall over his eyes. You fluster under his gaze.  

With arms crossed over your chest you say, “Yeah, probably.” You reach into the cardboard box for stock to practice on. 

“Where’d you work before this?” he asks, leaning back into a wall to watch you. Suddenly, you make sloppier work of your folding. “Your first retail job?” 

Some obnoxious pop song falls down from the speakers over the store. Nobody’s in here yet, thankfully; you’ve got some time to try and get a handle on everything. “No, this is my first job. I was so nervous walking in.” 

Interest catches in his eyes. It encourages that smooth smile on his lips further. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll show you the reins.” 

Your mind stalls. The suggestive, sly flicker to it—are you looking too much into it? Maybe that’s just how guys like Yeonjun act. It’s hard to pretend that you don’t see how he’s looking at you, though. It has your belly twisted up in fluttery knots. It’s not like you hadn’t had your share of his type. But, for some reason you’d rather not address, he’s got your heart thumping in your chest. 

He laughs at your fifth attempt to fold up the shirt. When he takes it from you to help, he smells of musk and vetiver. “You going to college near here?” he continues.  

“Nah, just doing this, I guess,” you answer, watching him fold it up to try and soak it up.  

“Really? Why not?” he hums, crossing his arms about his chest. “You seem like a smart girl.” 

Buffering, your blood buzzes in your veins and your cheeks burn. “Dunno. Not really sure what to do. Are you in college?” 

“Nah. I’m trying to figure things out, too.” 

The both of you pop your heads up when the bell rings to announce the arrival of a customer.  

“Yeah,” you say, eyeing him. He’s a few years older than you, no doubt, and yet his life hasn’t fallen apart because he’s not done anything grand yet.  

Time’s hand around your neck loosens. Just a little bit.  

⚝⭒ 

You sit crisscrossed on top of Kai’s bedsheets. He’d thrown the windows open because the AC died, but it’s no help. The hot air wafting about the room sits heavy on your skin. You’d dressed in as little material as possible to let it breathe, bare thighs clad in a pair of loose shorts and a thin tank top, but it’s still miserable. 

Perhaps you two should be going over to yours, but you haven’t had time alone with him for a few weeks now. You hate this busier life, where you struggle to make room for this. 

Your new job isn’t so awful, though. Especially with Yeonjun there. A bout of nerves flows up through your stomach. That reminds you. 

Sitting up a bit straighter, you consider not doing it. In fact, you really shouldn’t. But your mouth moves before you can put a stopper on it. 

“Hey, Kai,” you say. The thickness in your throat makes you believe that your heart’s jumped up into it, caught. God, what are you doing? The unsure waver in your words has you regretting. 

His eyes flicker up to yours. He hums out a, “Huh?” 

No, this is wrong. You mess with the thin cotton strap of your tank top where it’d slipped down. “Never mind,” you tell him, trying to shrug it off.  

That piques his interest. “No, what?” His brow pinches.  

You lick your lips and shake your head. “Nothing, never mind. Really.” 

His eyes search you from where he sits up against the wall. “Tell me,” he demands. 

Really, you shouldn’t have said it in the first place. It was a ridiculous idea. But now you know he’s not going to let it go. And, ridiculously, you say it. “I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?” 

Insects buzz outside as he looks at you, frozen in spot. You reject the urge to dart away or throw up. You’re honestly just as shaken as him. But really, who else could you trust with something like that? You don’t want Yeonjun to be disappointed if he kisses you, or to seem inexperienced to him. 

And, perhaps, the hopelessly in love part of you hopes to at least feel his lips on yours at least once. If you’re going to be alone forever in your longing, you just wish that you can have this. 

“What?” Kai says. He looks rattled.  

Of course, he’s shocked. You shift. “Forget I said that,” you tell him, unable to meet his gaze.  

String-roughened fingers wrap around your upper arm. “I didn’t say anything,” he says, voice strained and face less shock-fallen and more darkened. “But... I mean, you want me to teach you to kiss for some other guy.” He spits out the last bit as if bitter in his mouth.  

“You don’t have to do it,” you say. “I just... thought that I might ask you to do it. I don’t know, I’m sorry I said it. I’ll just wing it or something.” His room’s grown ten degrees hotter, if that was possible. Especially where you feel his eyes on your face.  

Almost imperceptibly, his hand tightens around you. He swallows hard. “You want to learn how to kiss?” he says. “Fine. I’ll teach you.” 

In a heart-stopping moment, your eyes snap to his. Brown and familiar, they hold you with an intensity that turns your limbs into jelly. The air is stifling. “What... do I do?” you ask when the silence becomes too heavy.  

A muscle feathers in his jaw, reflected in the low light of his room. It’s quick and so easy to miss, but it tells you everything you need to know about how this is making him feel. How much disbelief he’s in. “Come here,” he says, stilted around the absolute absurdity of it. He pats on his lap. 

You make a hesitant crawl across the bed toward him. It seems as though your elbows might buckle beneath your weight, but you make it despite the odds. A fog settles over your brain when you rest your hands on his shoulders and bring your legs to straddle his lap. 

But you shove it back; you want to live and breathe every last second of this. No matter how unbelievable or blistering it is.  

Breaths fan out over your face. It’s seizing your mind like undiluted liquor. “Where do I put my hands?” you ask him. It’s breathless, the air stolen right from your lungs though your mouths haven’t even touched.  

“There is fine,” he says. His words sound breathless, too. The weight of his touch on you as he runs his own up to support your back is unsure. “And then...” he says. It falls out on your mouth slowly, and then he’s taking your lips onto his. 

The walls melt away, sound does too. All that is real is the taste of his lips and how they move against you. Your lips start tentative, but you try his mouth movements yourself. It feels like a timid dance—it feels like deep, deep down, finally everything is right. That mist, thick and blinding, falls back over you. 

Something changes. Something in it, where you two meet, changes. He becomes hungry. Softly locked lips turn biting and nipping, shaky breaths exhaled slow through your nose. His hands on your back become surer, and one even ventures off to grab your chin. The other holds you to his chest, melded together despite the intense smoke and flame rolling off your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heart beating a mess there. 

Reluctance paints you both when you pull back. You’re panting deep drinks of air. It’s hard to think; your mind’s run off and sits just out of reach. Licking your messy lips, stained with illicitness, you can only manage to brush your fingers against it to form words. “How... was that?” you say, searching his eyes. You find his pupils blown so wide that they consume the warm brown. You’re ready to jump out of your skin with that look pointed at you.  

Kai doesn’t answer, though. He slams your mouths back together as if starved by just the brief moment you’d parted for air. Nips on your bottom lip and emboldened hands—he moves like roaring water through a dam. A dam that he’d worked hard to fortify, and yet, at a crack it’s all falling down. Fingertips digging through the fabric of your shorts down to your soft hips, his chest rumbles. You feel it reflected in your core, electricity charging there and shooting up your spine and down your thighs. 

You kiss him for all the times you wish you would’ve, but didn’t. The slight rolls of your hips down onto him come easy. You love how it has him making a sound into your mouth and taking the fat beneath his fingers harder into his hands. He helps you. 

He drops his head into your neck. Your head swims for air and he has you shuddering with just the brushing of his nose against the column of your neck. The walls of his room spin around you. “Kai,” you whine, every bit of friction his jeans provide, even clothed as you are, just enough to rile you but not to give you what you need. 

“God,” he growls, thumbs hooking under your waistband. “You always fucking run around dressed in nothing,” he says, letting his fingers linger like a suggestion of undressing you. “Did you do it on purpose? Expect to make me crazy, knowing I couldn’t touch you?” 

And, in those words, it seems that he steals every last bit of breath from you. How often had you gone braless or worn something like this around him? Laid here, in his bed, like that? 

Grown tired of your fruitless grinding, he brings a hand down to support your lower back and says, “Turn around.” 

Though you explode with the prospect of what he might be intending to do or what’s next, if you’re really going to do this, you do so in a flash of eager limbs. His chest is solid against your back, you melt against the feeling of it. He’d become such a man lately, filled out, and you watched it happen. It was hard for your eyes not to catch on muscle-corded forearms while he picked at strings or to not appreciate the timbred rumble of his voice when you’d feel it come from his chest. How could it not do things to you? Now, he’s dragging your shorts down your legs and you’re in disbelief.  

“Fuck,” he breaths out. His fingers find your panties soaked through. “So, you’re the type to get dripping wet.” 

An embarrassed blush decorates your cheeks. Kai drags his index finger in circles around your clit through the fabric as if enamored with how much of a mess you’d made of it. Your hips twitch every time he rolls right over it. It’s strange how he’s got your body acting on its own volition with his touches. Even stranger that it’s your best friend doing it. “Sorry,” you tell him, wavering.  

He continues those terribly slow circles. “Sorry?” he says, chin on your shoulder. He’s got you wrapped up in him, with nowhere to go but to melt back into him and let his fingers work. Free hand on one of your inner thighs digging divots into the plushness there to hold it still, he tells you, “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s hot as fuck. You’re so excited for me to touch you, huh?” 

The words wreak havoc on you, feeding the flame that has your belly twisted up tight and the ignition point between your thighs pounding. To hear them coming from him, reserved Kai, has you digging your fingers into his forearm to prove that it’s real. You’d never have imagined him being so... filthy. You imagine him behind falsely nonchalant eyes, devouring you with a perverted mind all the times you’d spent innocently sitting together in this room.  

Your cheeks squish beneath his fingers as he takes your face and turns it to him. He wants to make sure you’re look at him as he asks you, “Do you want me to finger you?” 

Like a record, your brain skips. Between the blunt, lewd question and his hand on you, it’s in overload. How could he ask something like that so simply? Stunned as you are, of course you want him to. You want him to do anything to you. You nod.  

Every last nerve and neuron in your system, just below the skin, cry out when his fingers slow down to nothing. “Hmm?” he says, ignoring the chasing of your hips and the opening of your thighs to invite him into paying your poor pussy the attention he’d ripped from it. He wants to hear you say it.  

About ten minutes ago, you lost your mind. It does not return to you now. “I want you to,” you say, chest beating in tandem with your cunt. 

“You want me to, right? Not some dumbass you met a week ago, huh?” he says. “Because you know that this is what it’s meant to be. Me, doing these things to you. Not some twenty-five-year-old piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you, baby. Understand?” 

His fingers slider under your panties. Dumb brained and cognition gone muddled, you nod. All you can really think about is the moment his fingers slide over you. Fire licks up your lower belly and your insides as he brushes calloused finger tips finally right against your clit. 

Puffed breaths of a scoff raise goosebumps over your skin. “Teach you to kiss so that you can go over there and get his hands on you,” he says, middle two fingertips prodding at your entrance. “As if you were ever anybody’s but mine. You’d come crawling back to me, baby, because it was always meant to be us. He could never satisfy you.” 

His words might alarm you or have you asking questions if he hadn’t pushed his fingers into you and begun curling them with strong, pointed presses, pulling soft mewls and hums from you until he finds a spot that twists up your insides. Even through the palm you press over your mouth, your moans come out more like wavering grunts and croaks. Your thighs quiver and twitch, threatening to snap closed against your own will with each. Only your feet stay planted to the mattress. Like a cone of soft serve under the sun’s blistering attention, you melt down him. Just his frame keeps you upright. 

“Right there, huh?” he says. The smirk on his mouth filters his words into something taunting. “That’s where you like it.” It’s like he’s learning your body step by step, fulfilling all the questions he’d been forced to only guess at before this.  

“Uh-huh.” It comes out whiny and cracks in the middle, but you can’t find even an ounce of you to care right now. If this moment had been a long spiral, a fall from grace, down into a dark pit of forgotten inhibitions, you’ve just hit the bottom. Cheeks blazing cherry blossom pink and with your fingers curling into his pant leg, you don’t doubt that you are a picturesque mess. The kind of mess that’s beautiful because it’s dirty. Your teeth are not gentle on your plush bottom lip. It stings, tugged back and bitten and still a bit swollen with kisses. Perhaps you taste the tang of metal on it, but you pay it no mind. 

Kai redoubles his efforts. Now that he knows exactly how to play you, he’s fucking you on his fingers without mercy. The sounds coming from your cunt were wet, but now they’re different— nasty squelching. The only noises coupling with your pathetic keening. Forget anchoring yourself on his thigh, forget muffling your sounds. Instead, your hands fly to encircle his flexing forearm. Under your nails, angry red crescents dig into the muscle there. What had been a languid, building pleasure suddenly becomes everything. Your breaths run away from you, and you chase them frantically. Deep down in your core, the muscles spasm and rage against his fingers. “H—oh god,” you groan. Even the muscles in your thighs and tummy tighten up. 

“So whiny...” Kai mumbles, voice taut with the effort of eroding you down into pure, blinding-white pleasure. 

And then, in a swoop of mercy, your belly tightens. You hover here, on the precipice of something so consuming and voracious that your muscles and bones reject it, and yet your heart sings. Your eyes and cheeks and lungs and belly burn, the flame charring the edges of you in a beckon. You answer its call. Kai doesn’t mind the snapping of your legs shut around his arm, nor does your bucking or shaking deter him. He just holds you through it, arm like a metal bar around your waist. He’s everywhere, in this moment—the smell of him, leather and utterly familiar, his mouth dusting hot kisses over your skin, his fingers guiding you through orgasm. Where you’d gone silent in the initial crash of it, you devolve into mewls and grunts as you come down.  

He holds you even as you slump against him boneless. Afterglow simmers in your veins and has your brain all lethargic and lazy. Neither of you speak for a while, your pulse thumping a rhythm. His breaths rise and fall against you; it grounds you in this moment where you feel all spacey and gone. You become aware again of how disgustingly sweltering it is in his room, your skin sheened. 

That brainless bliss only lasts you for so long, though. When rational mind returns to you, no matter how you wish it wouldn’t, you’re hit in the chest with regret so hard it knocks the wind out of you. 

How will anything ever be the same after what you’d just done? Stricken still by the thought, you barely register him pulling his fingers out of you. After all your worrying about making sure no wedge comes between you two, look what you’ve gone and done. No; nothing ever will be the same again.  

⚝⭒ 

A couple of weeks ago, you ruined the one friendship you were supposed to have forever. It presses down heavy one you while you sit sprawled out on Yeonjun’s couch, his arm around your shoulder. His phone casts a glow over his features with all the lights out. 

It doesn’t smell like home. He, pressed against your side, doesn’t smell like home.  

Some stupid movie that he’d picked out, yet somehow you’ve ended up the only one still watching it, weaves a hum into the quiet of his apartment. Tangy hurt wells up in your throat. Even the moments when you and Kai would sit in mutual silence on your phones never felt like this. This is different.  

You haven’t seen Kai since that night. He’s been busy getting ready to move out, and you’ve been here most days. How fast all of it had changed. You wish you’d feel whiplashed, left empty, by the drifting that you’d been so terrified of. But you don’t. It’s just been you, locked on land, watching him being taken away by the ocean’s tide with no way to change its course. You tried and screamed to call him back, but now your voice has gone hoarse.  

And instead of watching him go, you choose to look elsewhere. It’s all you can do to protect yourself from the hurt. 

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, finally addressing you rather than whoever’s he’s got in his phone. “Did you bring anything to change into?”  

“I brought stuff to sleep in,” you say, eyeing him. You know that’s not why he’s asking. If it came down to it, you could just steal something from him and pull it on. He means going out clothes. Your jaw tightens. “But nothing nice. Why?” 

He stretches his arms behind his head in a flaunt of long arms and tanned muscle. Hours spent at the gym lent him those; you appreciate the look of it with a watering mouth. Kai had earned his build by hours spent outside with your dad, because his own could care less, helping him fix up cars and vehicles of all ridiculous sorts. You remember when Kai had first gotten his truck—junk on wheels, honestly—he’d spent so much of summer out there getting it running. And, well... the sun-kissed bronze of his skin and frame that came with it, you had no qualms with. 

But those memories only sit heavy in your chest as you’re sat here beside Yeonjun. You banish them elsewhere; you need to let him drift off. If you can’t have each other, and your feelings won’t permit just being friends, then you have to. You want him to do amazing things, and you fear that it’s your presence in his life that will interrupt that. As much as your feelings are real, they are selfish. You, your unsure direction and all your dead weight, should let him go. Because you love him. 

“The guys want to come over,” he tells you, pushing off from the couch. “You should probably into change into something less showy.” 

Less showy. Your mouth drops into a scoff of disbelief, looking down. A pair of shorts and a shirt, showy? You have to laugh, or else you’ll succumb to the strange embarrassment crawling at the back of your skull. What’s he trying to say? Is that what he thinks of you? “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, face tilted up to him in a twist of distaste. “I’m wearing something comfy.” 

He shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his black sweats. “Don’t want to give them the wrong idea about you, that’s all, baby. They’re guys; I just want to protect you.” 

“No,” you say, the word falling out in a barked laugh. “Why would you even be bringing over dudes that you think will look at me like that? Why are you even friends with people that you think are gonna make moves on your girlfriend?” He holds a hand out to you, but your hands stay right where they are: crossed solidly over your chest. 

Throwing that hand up in audacious exasperation, he gives you a look that makes you feel small and petulant—like you’re throwing an overblown fit. And, maybe you are. You should probably just do it; him seeing you as some overbearing or high maintenance girl has that embarrassment flaring like wildfire that’s found dry brush. “C’mon, baby,” he says, a lazy smile on his mouth that gets under your skin. “Let’s just have an easy night. Don’t make it a big deal.” 

Let’s just have an easy night. As if you’re the one ruining the night. Something snarky tries to seize your tongue, but you hold it down. “I thought it would be just us. We wanted to watch the movie together, Yeonjun. Can’t you wait to hang out with your friends? Let’s enjoy our time together; you’ve got your shift tomorrow.” 

“My fucking god,” he groans, running a hand through his hair furiously. “You’re needy, you know that? The neediest I’ve ever had to put up with. I don’t put up with needy, baby. Can’t you just chill out a little? My last didn’t mind when I’d have friends over.” 

Your eyes burn. Your cheeks burn. He’d been with plenty of other girls before you; that, you’re well aware of. It’s been a corrosive source of self-doubt for you. You don’t want that title: the neediest he’s ever had. Don’t want him to think of you as some prude that won’t let him have fun. Just... hearing him bring up the other girls he’d been with before you stings and leaves welts no different from a slap in the face. Feelings of inadequacy shackle you and have you saying, “Fine. I’m gonna borrow some of your clothes.” 

Heavy resentment blooms on your skin where he bends down and presses kisses to your cheek, and then mouth, and then down your neck. “Thank you, baby.” 

And, where those ugly, wilted flowers of it bloom, you hear echoes of something. Something that tells you that Kai wouldn’t treat you like this. But you’ve made your bed, decided to do it yourself, and now you’ve got to lay on it. 

⚝⭒ 

The frat parties are the worst kind of social outing that Yeonjun insists upon. The smaller kinds, more intimate gathering with just his closer friends, you tolerate much easier. You’re not fond of the circles he chooses. Breathing in thick, smoked-out air surrounded by alcohol-coated breaths is not your type of fun night. Somehow, you end up doing that more than date nights. But that’s better than being here. The base rumbles up through your feet and makes your stomach sick, and it reeks of grinding bodies and body odor, and condensation coats your fingers from the red solo cup as full as when you’d first gotten it. 

But, still, you come along. Not every time, but when you don’t, you lay in his bed sickening yourself with images of what he might be doing here. How pathetic is it to attend parties with your boyfriend because you fear that otherwise, he might stick his tongue down the throats of other girls? 

You’re looking for him right now, awkward and left alone. He’d promised to stick around; you had begged him to. That was pathetic, too. You know that you put up with too much. If he loved you, or honestly even liked you, you two would be in the thick of the throngs dancing or off somewhere talking with others. Together. The frantic skimming and weeding of your eyes through the blur of faces is not right. That’s not how he should make you feel. It’s not how Kai would make you feel. 

Well, Kai would never have you here in the first place. 

Venturing out from your little corner, you sift between the bodies of people have a hell of a lot better time than you. Drunken, some you bounce off of like bumper carts. You press your palm over the round face of your cup to spare the floor from spillage threatening to pour over the lip. It’s not like a splash from yours would matter much, though. The linoleum has already been made a fetor mess of dirt off shoes and the sticky sugar of liquor. Your shoes peel from it as you walk. God, what would your parents think of you being here? 

You peek around corners and eye big groups. He’s not in the kitchen when you look there, either. Your stomach feels sick in a knowing way—a gut feeling that doesn’t justify anger or tears just yet, but you know. Right in the center of your chest, you know. 

It’s in some room that you find him. Sat on the floor along with a few faces you don’t know, he pulls from his bottle. And on his shoulder, he lets a girl with shining curls and pink cheeks rest her head. At your busting in on the intimate gathering, Yeonjun’s eyes slide to you. Recognition flashes over them and wars with bleary drunkenness. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. Their gazes all fall on you, but you can hardly see them through blurry eyes. 

The girl lifts her head from his shoulder. She’d caught the memo. 

“I think I’m gonna go.” You make it sound resigned, try to not let them see your shame, but your voice betrays you and crackles. Maybe it’s better to pretend it doesn’t feel like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach and left to reel against the force, but you can’t. You’re nowhere near shocked, nowhere near blindsided, but still you hurt. 

He follows you down the hall. “What’s your problem?” he says, the few, plain words mending and waving into a slurring. 

You’ve got one goal: get to the front door, away from the shitty music and him. His words, sharpened, fall off your skin despite his efforts. What good would fighting do you, anyway? It was always going to end up this way. This is just who he is, and he doesn’t give two shits enough about you to want to change that. 

“Baby, seriously? That made you this mad? I didn’t even fucking do anything. Stop being insecure,” he says. At the gritting of your teeth, he sees an opportunity and pounces on it. “You don’t need to be jealous. I don’t do jealous shit. We can dance, or something. Shit, I don’t know what you want! Just stop throwing a fit.” 

Didn’t do anything? You have to laugh. Maybe you didn’t walk in on him fucking someone else, but that’s not what this is about. Not even a little bit. You’ve checked out, and the fact that he thinks he can make you believe that it’s your fault this time only drives the killing stake in harder. 

Maybe you’re bitter. It claws at your insides—turns your face hot and screams in your face that you’ve been used. But beside it sits a sadness. Not the slow kind, but the quick sadness of hurt. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him to love you? To like you? You’d left behind Kai and rested your new life on Yeonjun’s shoulders. You’d wanted so badly for his approval, or for him to want you. You did your best to try and make this work out because you needed it to. You needed so desperately proof that you could fall in love with somebody else. But your best was not what Yeonjun was interested in.  

Pins and needles prick your skin as you step outside, like jumping into an ice bath. It shocks you out of dizziness. Words surge up and out in a flash flood like hard reality. You spin on him. “Jealous?” you say, choking out a scathing laugh. “The last thing I’d ever let myself suffer over you is jealousy. Get over yourself. I’m going, stay here if you want. I don’t care.” 

“How are you gonna do that, huh?” he says. The flickering yellow of the porchlight paints his features. The shadow of something fluttering around it cuts dark spots in the light, and then a small little moth comes down and jumps around in his face. He waves it off. “Gonna have bitch boy come pick you up? You can’t leech off him forever; he’s gonna get sick of picking up another man’s girlfriend.” It seems like you walking in on that had sobered him up, but his breath still curls out onto your face with the reek of alcohol. “It’s not a big deal. You’re making this a bigger deal than it has to be. Do you not trust me?”  

“You are such a piece of shit,” you grit out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Ever. I don’t know how I let this go on for so long.” You don’t like him having Kai in his mouth, don’t like him trying to act like you’re conflating things, and especially don’t like that face he’s making. As if you’re acting crazy and overblown. “No, I don’t trust you. You didn’t fuck her, but come on, Yeonjun. Seriously? You think I’m stupid, and I’m sick of it. You thought this would be easy because I didn’t have the experience you have, but I’m sorry. I don’t like being walked over.” 

“If you’re gonna be so goddamn jealous, then maybe we aren’t gonna work,” he says. 

That moth, floating light in the air, is right back in his face. Yeonjun takes two hands and smashes it between a clap of his hands. He shakes its flattened, broken body off his hand. Looking down at it laying there on top of dirt-caked concrete, you get this... feeling. A tickling around your person.  

“See if I care,” you snap, throat aching against the onslaught of emotion and held back tears.  

⚝⭒ 

Rivulets of raindrops dilute the tears on your cheeks. Your hair plasters to your face and your clothes to your body.  

For a week, you’d went about it all as if it hadn’t happened. And then you came here.  

It’d not been this rainy when you first got down to the creek—just a gentle trickle, really. You hadn’t been crying then, either. But, watching the water work at babbling over stone, you let yourself feel it. Here, where you’d had so many good memories. You’ve gone and tainted it, now. But for whatever reason, you’d just wanted to be here. Arms curled around yourself and fingers digging into drenched sleeves, you don’t wipe away the tears or cover the sounds of your crying. You let the stream hear it; it’ll sweep it right up and down the way. Somewhere far off, where you don’t have to feel it anymore. 

You realize that, usually, you’d be over at Kai’s right now. The fact that his room was not the first place you thought you could go to anymore is a punch to the gut. You drop your face into your hands and cry harder. Really, you’ve got to stop doing that to yourself. Thinking of sad things—putting your hurt under the microscope to see it closer. It’d be easier to just fold it up and tell yourself that it’ll pass, and that relationships end all the time. 

It’s not him that you cry over. Well, maybe some of it is. Rather, it’s that you have absolutely no idea where you’re going. Where you are. Finally, you’d built yourself a raft to get off the shore and go out to sea, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, and it’s breaking apart right beneath you. And, stranded and alone in the water, you’ve got no way to get back to shore to build yourself another raft. You’re stranded, and the scariest bit is that you’re doing it all alone. You weren’t supposed to do this alone. You two made promises back then. 

You suppose that a promise is one of those things you were supposed to leave faith in back on shore. 

The raindrops are heavy over you. The fall of it roars against the ground, a torrent downpour. It’s not coupled with whipping wind or flashes of lightning—just straight, still falling. It’s a somber feeling no different from the gnawing in your chest. 

Like chimes, there’s a distant, gentle sound. Maybe water falling over creek rock, but it’s more like suggestion. A sweet sound that you shouldn’t even be able to hear over the rest of it, it’s as if it’s right in your ear. A whisper.  

You fix your blurry eyes with a wet sleeve. Rain falls right back into its place, but you see it: a silvery, whimsy haze. And the moths. They jump and call you, this time. Their glow bounces off the rainy mist against the grey of night’s arrival. Then, all you can hear is the whispering. Where you stand frozen, your feet beg to move. To follow them. 

So you do. 

Their entourage of moondust trails them where they go, wrapping you up and weaving between raindrop and space. You don’t worry where they’ll take you, or even try to wrap your head around this happening again. You just follow, mind glossed over and entranced with how beautiful it is. When you’d seen them before, it’d made you uneasy. Mostly because it looked so unearthly and unbelievable. But this time you just follow. 

A far-off voice, one oh-so-familiar, peaks through the haze. It’s not enough to stop you, but then you hear it again, louder and closer. 

You blink a few times. Once to break away the fog, and then twice to focus your eyes on Kai stood in front of you. His hair lays in wet spikes over his eyes and beads of rain trace the planes of his face. He’s as soaked as you. 

“Kai?” you say. Looking around you, you’ve ended up somewhere in the field between your houses and the creek. But you’ve got no recollection of walking here. Whatever that mist is, sentient or not, had swept you here.  

His voice is strained, but you appreciate hearing it. “Break up with him,” he tells you. 

In his eyes, as you search them, there’s stardust glowing like reflection. Your face twists up. “What?” you say, breath a puff of smoke ahead of you. Summer had come and gotten away from you so fast, and now it’s gone all cold again. 

“Break up with him,” he echos, face solemn. He looks ruffled. 

“Why?” you ask, “And why are you out here?” 

“Because I’m moving out today, and I think I deserve to at least see you before I go.” His eyes look over you. “And... your dad said you went down to the creek.” 

He’s moving out today, and you had no idea. And really, it’s your fault. You’d driven that wedge between the two of you. “I did break up with him.” 

Downpour fills his quiet for a few moments, his face swirling with emotion like the clouds above you. He nods. “Good.” 

There are a few more long minutes between you; just you two searching each other's faces, antsy to say so much that it bunches up in your chests and stalls. It’s what a summer of longing does to you. Even with Yeonjun, even trying to slowly chip away the stitching that had connected the two of you at the hip, you were helpless to stop the gnawing of the love you bear for him. Even just seeing him now, you feel those threads mending back up. God, why does it have to be so hard? 

He just looks at you. For a few beats, he just looks at you. There are so many questions in his eyes. They flit across and turn over, but all he settles on is, “Why?” 

There’s so much you want to tell him. Words pile up to the top, some threatening to spill over. But you know that if you tell him some of it, just to make up for all the time you’d missed out on together, it’ll all come crashing out. And you don’t think you want him to know just how much you accepted, the way you let yourself get treated. So, you shake your head and say, “It doesn’t matter.” 

Kai looks like he wants to push that issue, but whatever look he finds on your face deters him. “Come with me,” he pleads. “I want you to come with me.” 

Your throat tightens. Curling your arms around yourself harder, the rain only coming down on you harder, you say, “Kai, I want to. I want to. I just... I don’t want to freeload off you, because you’re doing great things, and I’m just...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, but they’re already as soaked as the rest of you. “I’m just going nowhere. And I don’t want to be a burden, or ever be the reason that you can’t do what you dream of. If staying here means that you become everything that you’re destined to do, then I’m happy with that, Kai. I am.” 

He shakes his head, stumbling toward you. “No, no you don’t get it,” he says, frantically taking your shoulders into big hands. Under his touch, every taut muscle goes slack. You melt. “You don’t get it. You are the music. Every single song is about you. Every single fucking song is about you. I want you to come with me, please. I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you, and I thought you’d loved me too, and I don’t want to do this alone. I can’t do it alone.” 

He loves you. Kai loves you. The enormity of it rumbles the ground where you stand on legs you fear might just give in. You flex your fingers to combat the tears pricking your eyes. It doesn’t work; they brim and well up, spilling down over your cheeks. “What?” you say, voice softly breaking. “Kai, I didn’t...” 

“And just when I thought I finally had you, you left me,” he says, throwing a hand up beside him in a big gesture. “You left me! I woke up thinking you’d be there, and that maybe you loved me too, and you had left me. And then you threw me away for some piece of shit, and you stopped coming around.” His chest heaves for breaths. 

Your face contorts. That night, the one where you two had slipped up, you’d fallen asleep curled up against his chest on undiluted contentment. When you woke up, you had panicked. You thought he’d wake up and pretend it hadn’t happened, or he’d be uncomfortable, or even be disgusted and regretting. You couldn’t handle that, so you slipped out before he woke up. It’d been an attempt to protect your tender heart, but looking at the twitching of his lip now, you begin to think it’s the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. He thinks you used him and left him. Your stomach twists. Voice thick, you say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you, Kai. I thought you didn’t... I thought you didn’t see me that way. I was scared. I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

Brows knitted together, he says, “Thought I didn’t love you?” His hand cups your cheek, warm against the soft frozen skin he finds there. “I’ve... I’ve dreamed of you almost every night of my life. In my sleep, I see you, and you’re happy and glowing, and that damn... mist is all around you. I couldn’t get away from you even in my sleep.” 

Darting between his eyes, soft and reflecting your face back to you, it’s hard to breathe. Kai’s dreamt of you; he’s as sickly in love with you as you are him. Thunder claps, and the ground shakes, and the heavens open up above you, the trumpets belt, and you two are in love. Somewhere deep in your center, you feel it—your soul nodding yes. 

The mist. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “I saw it. That stuff, those moths. The stuff we saw back then.” 

“I did too,” he says, wet spikes of hair bouncing with a nod. “Not that long ago. It was the first time I saw it out of a dream since that day.” 

Back then, you two had only budding, innocent love for each other. Things hadn’t become mangled and lost to confused hearts or expectations. When they’d appeared to you, you hadn’t needed it. This time, you’d followed it. And it had led you here—somehow had led you right to the very spot you needed to so that every last piece might fall into place. For this moment to happen. You know why it did. 

“I’ll go with you, Kai. I’ll go wherever you go; I love you. I’ve loved you since forever,” you say, each and every word massive and lovely on your tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.” 

So unlike the last times your mouth had met, he brings his mouth to yours with a dazzling clarity. No longer is it confused kisses; he locks his lips against yours with the urgency of so many years being unable to. Kai’s hands cradle your wet cheeks, hold you so tenderly into his kiss. His touch grounds you, makes the moment real. You melt into him—your fingers curled into his shirt as if holding him there so that he won’t disappear like something of an incorporeal dream. He sighs through his nose, kissing you harder. Even if it all were fake and this was nothing more than a feverish figment of your imagination, you think you could die happy just knowing this once. 

But it is utterly real, and utterly yours. You kiss him harder, too. 

When your lungs start to burn and plead for breath, you two pull away from each other. Your eyes flutter open to capture his. Warm and brown and the same ones you’ve stared into so many times before, but not like this, you sink into them. He runs his thumb over your cheek as he sinks into yours. His tongue darts out to lick lips painted with you. In the inches between you, space no longer feels heavy or charged with grievances. Every last unsaid thing had been answered. 

“I have my stuff up in the truck,” he says, breaths soft. Brown eyes dart around your face. “I’ll help you add your stuff to it.” 

You shudder out a breath. Add your stuff to it. A nervous energy settles down over you, but it doesn’t seem so bad if you’re doing it with him. Together.  

“Okay,” you whisper, a balmy secret just like the ones you used to share in small, giggly voices so many years ago. “Okay.” 

⚝⭒ 

Shivers seize you like jittering bones, all wrapped up in a blanket. The velour cushion seats beneath you have soaked up water and become damp, but Kai’s got the heater blasting. You wind around back roads, headlights illuminating the way ahead of you. Stray droplets whip in them, but nothing much. Isn’t it funny how the rain had just stopped like that? That’s just how the weather is, out here. You wonder how the weather might act wherever you’re headed. 

Your teeth chatter as if your jaw had its own will. The two of you had the windows down thinking that the wind might dry you off, but all it’s done is lap at your bitten cheeks. You reach down for the handle to crank it up. You’ve got a long drive ahead of you—either you’ll eventually dry off, or you can pull off at a rest area to change in a bathroom. The wet clothes are really not helping. 

With an arm up on the steering wheel, Kai turns his attention on you. You know that smile. “Cold?” he asks, eyes darting between your face and the road. With the hand he’s not got working the steering wheel, he runs fingers over your thigh. Soft, gentle massages, yes. The number it does on your core is absurd. Each mindless digging into your thighs and brush of his thumb, sparks sputter there. You’ve sat here, right in his passenger seat, so many times before. Day trips up to the lake, the one he’d joined your family camping at for so many summers, all the times he’d driven you to school in this truck, and even just a quick run down to a convenience store for a late-night snack. You’d deemed it your seat. But never once had you sat in it like this. Your heart does a flip. All those times you’d wish he’d reach over and do just this—a small gesture that would’ve been so big then. And it’s your reality, now.  

“Freezing,” you say. A brush of his fingers nearer the apex of your thighs sends you pressing them together and shifting in your seat. “But not everybody runs as hot as you, though, so.” 

His eyes catch the movement in just the split second he looked over to you. “Huh,” he says. He turns to look at you, his gaze flickering with something anew. Something that you’d only ever seen once before. “Is that it?” 

It’s hard to swallow. His fingers brush higher, and higher, feather-dustings of calloused fingertips that sends tingles shooting up your spine at the slightest suggestion of where he’s headed. “Yes,” you say, feigning indignance to cover the shiver that threatens to overtake you. When his fingertips dance at the waistband of your bottoms, it does so anyway. “Kai,” you say, blood hot in your veins. “You’re...driving.” 

His eyebrows pinch into a taunting furrow. “I am,” he says, nodding. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got us.” 

And he does; fingers slipping under the band of both your bottoms and your panties, he doesn’t even tear his eyes off the road. He’d driven these roads so much, you think he might be able to do it asleep. Even drawing a mewl from you with a brush over your clit, he doesn’t look away more than a quick glimpse at your pinkened cheeks. 

Two fingers dragging up your folds, right over the source of the mess. “You get excited so easily, huh?” he hums. “You like it when I play with you.” 

When he presses those fingers at your entrance, you can’t help but be taken back to that night. It echoes and reverberates through you. Long fingers, strong and punctual brushes against the sweet spot—he was criminally good with his fingers. Playing guitar did more for him than just music. He seemed to know exactly how to utilize those roughened fingers and trained flicks. Your muscles flicker as he abandons your hole for more brushes at your bud.  

Those teasing, sly touches turn to something more serious. His fingers roll over your clit, slow but enough to have you sighing and rolling your hips against the seat belt. But last time had gone just like this, him touching you and receiving nothing. He should feel good, too. “Shouldn’t you pull over?” you sigh, muscles taut. Your breaths come out shuddering and half-controlled, interrupted by the tightness that each delicious swirl provokes. The door takes the brunt of your grip, white-knuckling the interior. 

He laughs, a husky sound that is tinder to fire. He knows what you mean. “Maybe,” he says. “But I think I’m enjoying this plenty. I think I want to see you cum on my fingers again.” 

Fingers pinching and flicking faster, you grow breathy and whiny, hips rolling against the seatbelt and back into the seat. Your muscles, all the way down your thighs and deep in your belly, jump and twitch each time his fingers run over your clit in just the right spot—that tender spot that’s so good that it teeters on overwhelming. The kind that makes you hiss and then want more. “Shit, Kai,” you whine. “Right—there, keep going."  

He doesn’t answer with any teasing words. No, he just doubles down right at that angle and pressure, leaned back into his seat and driving as if he wasn’t fingers-deep in your panties right now. His sculpted profile at total ease—it does something for you. A delicious tightness curls its fingers over your center, promising a sugary ecstasy that you can’t help but chase. Bucking into his hands as best you can, you go quiet. Right there—right there, you feel it. The cusp. Your fingers brush over it, clenching around nothing and squeezing your thighs tight around him. Every last drop of blood in your body reaches for it, singing and dancing through your veins and making you dizzy. 

And then he stops. Your mouth drops open, whiplashed and helpless to its slipping away from you. You whittle your gaze into something sharp and turn to him. “What—why?” you complain. The tide slips further and further and further back, but you still taste sea salt on your tongue. Frustration sets in its place as you feel it go. Seriously, you’d been right there. “You’re so mean.” 

He slows and then with the clicking of the turn signal, he’s off the road and pulling the truck into park on a little secluded side road. Where the headlights pierce the pitch black, nothing but gravel and field surrounds you. He doesn’t kill the engine, instead pulling his hand free from you. 

Your heart, still stuttering with your lost orgasm, kicks back to life as he smears your slick over your mouth, dragging it over your lips and then taking his thumb to run it right over the plush of your mouth. “Am I?” he says, fingers taking your chin to meet your eyes with his. Endless hunger, pupils so blown that his eyes look black, pins you. “I don’t think you’ve seen mean yet, baby.” 

Darting your tongue out to clean your lips, you look at him through your eyelashes. “Show it to me, then.” 

Something dark passes over his face. It has your skeleton jumping out of your body. Then, he says, “Is that what you want? You want mean?” 

Brain gone to mush that can only really think about him touching you, a slow nod is all you can manage. 

The engine’s hum prevails for some long, thick seconds. And then, he tilts his head in a gesture. “Get in the back.” 

Holy shit. You want to sit there frozen in an overwhelming sort of excitement, but his seatbelt clicks undone and you’re set into motion. In a flurry of giggles and clumsy limbs, you climb up over the center console and into the backseat. He slips out of the front seat, not bothering to even kill the engine. 

The door beside you opens in a swirl of cold wind. In nothing more than a blink, a strong hand has both your wrists pinned to the cushions and your back flush against it. Nose-to-nose, his breath hot over your face. “I’ve got plenty of ideas as to how I can warm you up.” 

You appreciate each other’s faces for a beat more, you looking up at him big-eyed and waiting. Kai breaks the moment to attack your neck in a procession of bites and kisses. Your mouth falls into a silent sound. 

“You know,” he says, free hand working your pants off. His eyes are trained on you, though. “I thought about doing this to you all summer. Touching you again.” He moves on to your top, pushing the fabric up until your chest is freed, clad in soft cotton. He eats the sight up. You want to reach down and cup the back of his head or feel his hair between your fingers as he presses his mouth against the soft beginning of your cleavage, but he’s got your wrists firmly planted. So much so, that you wonder exactly how he’s got you so secure with just one hand. Kai is strong, but maybe you hadn’t seen just how strong. Your skin aches under the purple bites he decorates you in. The sight of him—face in your chest and marking you up so lazily—has your teeth abusing your bottom lip. Whatever sounds you might make otherwise would be embarrassing. Kai lifts his eyes to you. “And I think you thought of me, too. Didn’t you?” 

“Oh, god, yes,” you say, writhing beneath him. He’s going so slow. You want him all over you. “So much.” 

He likes that. He takes your pebbled nipple into his mouth through the fabric. Soft grazes of teeth and sucks, you’re burning all over. When he pulls back, he’s left you dark wet patches when the bra had only just dried against your body heat. “Good,” he rasps, taking his big hands demanding and hungry over your torso. They swallow your frame up, soothing skin but lighting it aflame all the same. “Good girl.” 

You never thought just words could unravel you, but those did the job. Not a gasp, nor a sucking in of breath—no, you go silent and brainless, fumbling for rational thought. 

The dropping of your jaw has Kai delighted. “You’re so pretty,” he says. In a swift and powerful hoist, he’s tugging you down the cushions toward him with greedy fingers. He’s got your thighs pressed up to your chest. You’re bent right in half. 

Out of breath, you huff out, “You too.” 

A quick laugh falls from his mouth, lips pulled into a smug tilt. He nips at your calf up by his face. “So sweet, it almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do to you.” Reaching down for your panties, he pulls back on the suffocating press for only enough time to drag them up your legs. Those get discarded somewhere on the floor. Who cares about that right now, though? All you can register is the metallic clinking of his belt being undone. It’s got your nervous system twisting up. 

And, those words. Electricity shoots bolts of pure, sizzling revery into your core. What I’m about to do to you. You imagine a great deal of things that he might mean, but still, you think that none could hold a candle against the promise his voice held in saying it. 

Kai presses his body to your thighs and hooks your calves over his shoulders, and it all becomes real. The press of his heavy cock to your folds, the digging of his fingers into your outer thighs, his pretty eyes sparkling with something feral. As real as it gets—more real than anything you’ve ever felt in the entirety of your life. Your hands find perch flattened to his broad chest. 

The position leaving you two no option but to look right into each other, he holds your gaze and begins slow drags of his hot length up and down your slit. Tantalizing, awful, awful drags. When his tip nudges your eager clit, you jolt. And then he does it again. And again. 

“Kai,” you mewl. A press against your hole has you hopeful, and he lingers there for a moment, but doesn’t give it to you. Can’t he just fuck you? You’ve never been more pitifully in need of something in your life. 

“Shh.” His ruts get more daring, smearing your slick up onto your belly. “Take it.” 

You wiggle your toes in the air and make passes at arching yourself into him in search of better friction. He’s got you pressed so suffocatingly into the seat that it does absolutely nothing for you. In fact, he holds your harder and changes tack so that your thighs press together. At the very apex of them, his weeping cock slips through the seam. 

Pressing his cheek into your calf, he watches you. Every gasp and shaky inhale, he watches. It spurs his rutting on, sticky sounds and pants eating up the air. Your nails claw at his hands as, finally, a knot tightens in your core. 

“Yes, please,” you breathe. He fucks your thighs harder. Faster. Every nudge at your clit and hole becomes euphoric. “Kai, baby—I’m gonna—” 

Just as furiously easy as last time, he rips it all away from you. The rushing away of the buzzing and promise of shaking thighs—he takes it from you again. It brings prickling tears to your eyes. “Kai?” you hiss. “Again?” 

His eyes aren’t playful. He pulls your calves back over his shoulders, handling your hips into a better position to press his cock right at your entrance as if you weigh nothing. Face utterly straight, he says, “I don’t think you deserve it, do you? Not after what you did with Yeonjun.” 

A swallow goes down your throat hard. He presses himself just a bit harder into you. Not in yet, but right there. 

When he does begin sliding in, the stretch of it... You cling to him and squirm between him and the warm cushions behind you. Each inch is a heady feeling, all the way up to the hilt of him. He shudders a controlled breath. “You’re so fucking tight, though,” he grits out. “Did he not fuck you right?” 

Slaps of skin bounce off the car interior and between your bodies. He starts off at a brutal pace; you know it’s meant to make your brain go foggy. Squeezing your eyes closed, you manage, “I... didn’t fuck him.” It comes out strangled, voice bouncing as he fucks you into the car seat. 

Thumb tugging your bottom lip down and then dipping into your mouth, he watches the show of your ecstasy down to every last detail. “Yeah?” he says, voice shaking and almost desperate. “Always thinking of me, huh? Such a good little princess. You know exactly where your heart belongs.”  

You want to answer him, even just with a whine or moan. You try to. But with his thumb pressing down on your tongue, enough to pin it to the floor of your mouth, it’s not gonna happen. He tastes salty in your mouth. 

His truck consists of his grunts and whines, and your taut groans for some moments that seem to stretch forever. The planes of his groin grind against your clit when he delivers occasional pointed rolls, but mostly it’s just an animalistic, feverish dancing of your two sweaty bodies, holds growing more frantic the closer you get.  

Thumb wet with saliva; he frees your mouth. The hand trails slowly down your face and your chin, brushing feather touches, until he finds your neck. 

Your eyes fly open, wide. He pressed his fingers into your neck—no real pressure yet, he looks at you through damp strands of dangling hair and says, “Want my fingers around your neck?” His thumb brushes over the buzzing pulse point there. 

“Yes,” you grit out, body bouncing and back raw with friction against the coarse cushion’s surface. Your breath stutters, your mind stutters. Even your blinks stutter, eyelids too lazy to keep up. “Please.” 

The pressure of his fingers there—it frightens you and has you tightening around him at the same time. But you would trust nobody more with your life than Kai. 

He presses his cheek to your calf to indulge in the sight of you like this: underneath him, folded in two, nowhere to go but to take his pistoning hips, cheeks blazing, and his fingers pressed into your windpipe. If the way he becomes sloppier and more desperate in his tempo has anything to say for it, it does something for him. 

“Gonna be my pretty little girlfriend, huh?” he says. His voice is tight—so is your belly. You’re both so close. Hopefully, this time he’ll let you cum. “Take you to every show; show you off to everybody. Fuck.” 

Brain like static and swimming with a pinched flow of oxygen, you slur your words. “You’re—hah—gonna have other girls all over you.” 

The taunting, split-second raise of his brows flips your belly. You tighten around him again. If he keeps hitting that spot, tip ramming into the soft spot deep inside you that he’d taken such delicate care of finding last time, you’re going to burst into sparkling flame and firework. He growls, “Well, I’ll just have to knock you up so that they know I’m yours, huh?” 

Holy shit. You like the sound of that. Your nails dig into his wrist around your neck, but you cry out a pitchy, “Yes!” 

“Oh, you like that?” Kai releases your throat to take both your hips. You gulp for air, finding nothing but the thick air of sex and humid breaths, at the opportunity. He’s ramming into you like he’s found a purpose. “Isn’t this the perfect position to do it? Get you pregnant?” 

With every last bit of brain power you’ve got, teetering on the edge excruciatingly close to salvation, you groan a long, hoarse sound. “Fuck, yes! Please, Kai, inside—” A hot trail of tears roll down your temples. 

It’s all he’s got to hear to still inside you. His growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you in place and filling you with his hot cum deep in your cunt. That feeling, coupled with his short grinds against your clit as he fucks his seed deeper, takes your soul by sinful claws and crumbles it down into nothing. You burst into a shaking, whimpering peak, sucking your lips into your mouth to bare through the sheer twisting of your insides and the flame that consumes up your thighs and cunt. 

He falls on you heavy, face in your neck. Warm kisses against your clammy skin meld with your slow floating down, the two of you a beautiful, nasty picture of fucked out. He stays right inside you—the absolute stillness of him, you think he has no plans of pulling out any time soon. His long fingers card through your sweaty locks of hair. 

Finally, he presses himself off you. You get a glimpse of the window behind him—fogged up and filthy with your affairs. Anybody to see the truck from the outside would know exactly what went on inside, but right now, you don’t care. Not one bit. Your panted breaths drag in nothing but musk and thick, hot air. The drumbeat in your chest tells you that, despite how you feel ripped straight from your body, you are very much still alive. More alive than ever. 

“Warm?” he says, pushing sticky hair off his forehead. He’s a mess, too. His hair is ruffled with your touch, his clothes rumpled the same, beads of sweat rolling down the planes of his cheeks and neck, and his eyes a lazy smolder. As much as he looks like sex personified, a soft smile twitches at his lips. 

You snort. You can’t help but feel giddy, here with him. You’re with him. Nothing has ever felt more right. Unplugged when he pulls out of you, your mess trickles down onto the seat below you. “Yeah,” you say. “Very.” 

Warm is not enough to begin to describe how you feel. In your ears, you hear whisperings. Soft and gentle. Perhaps it was divine intervention, or the fates lending you their word, or maybe just rational thought. It says: 

Home. You are home. 

✎୭ ashlynn's note how do we feel about this pair? i really didn't mean for this to get so long, but i ended up RLLY liking their chemistry. i had to do their story justice. also, i finished this with kai as a guitarist and then his drummer performance came out... hmm.

﹙🏷️ ﹚@lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[daemour]

I Can See You

Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn

Word Count: 10,137

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences

Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.

Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay

thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa (Bittersweet Neighbours), we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long

-

“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”

“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”

When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.

“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.

Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.

He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”

Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”

You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.

“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”

You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”

“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.

Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”

Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.

“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”

You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”

A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”

The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"

The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."

Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"

Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.

"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."

Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.

Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"

Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.

"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.

"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."

You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”

"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."

"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"

Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"

Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."

Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.

“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”

With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”

You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”

Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”

You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”

Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”

You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”

Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.

A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.

As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.

-

You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.

Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.

But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.

“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”

Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.

You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.

You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.

Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”

It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”

You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”

You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.

“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”

You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”

You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”

“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”

Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.

“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”

Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”

“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”

“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.

“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”

With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.

“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”

Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”

Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.

“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”

Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”

Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”

You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.

“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”

A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”

Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.

“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”

Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”

You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”

Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.

“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”

You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.

“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”

You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”

Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”

“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.

“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”

You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”

Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”

The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.

“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.

“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”

Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.

You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”

He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.

“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”

You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”

As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”

You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.

-

These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.

Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.

Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.

You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.

With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.

At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.

“Is that me?”

A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.

“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”

After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”

You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”

One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”

You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.

But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.

“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”

Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.

You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”

“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.

Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.

But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”

Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”

You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.

“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”

-

It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.

And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.

These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.

It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.

That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.

As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.

As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.

Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.

But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.

Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.

“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.

“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”

Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”

You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”

“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”

“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”

The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.

“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”

The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.

-

Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”

Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”

He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”

He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.

“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”

He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”

He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”

As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.

It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.

But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.

“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.

“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.” 

Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.

As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.

He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—

Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.

-

When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.

You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.

“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”

A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.

“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.

“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.

“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”

You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”

“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”

Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”

As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.

With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.

After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”

Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”

You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”

Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”

Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”

“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.

“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”

You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”

As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.

His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”

An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.

“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.

He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”

“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.

With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.

“Seonghwa–”  you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.

“Then don’t.”

Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.

“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”

You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”

Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.

You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.

“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.

The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”

You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.

As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.

And he still hasn’t come.

“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.

His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.

You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”

Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.

You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?” 

Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.

His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.

“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.

“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.

“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.

“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”

You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”

With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.

[sageispunk]

your writing never fails to amaze me👏🏾👏🏾

Neighbors 🩵 Lovers

Part Four

Shutting his door, he placed his sturdy back against it. His head collided gently with the surface and he shut his eyes tightly. An even breath escaped his nose and his built chest rose up and down. Diesel’s barking brought his attention down to his pit bull. Erik slid down his door until his bottom touched the floor. Diesel relaxed next to him and Erik rubbed his back. His obsidian eyes stared off into space, but his mind replayed scenes from the night’s festivities over and over.

He dragged his other hand down his face.

Faedra McAdams almost made him say those three words.

Erik brought his left knee up and rested his elbow there while stroking his bottom lip with his thumb. He couldn’t believe it. From the outside looking in, you’d think he’d only known her for several weeks. Truth is, he’d known her for months. Five long months. From a distance. Through his telephoto lens while parked in a car or on a rooftop at night through a 10-power scope.

To understand why, it’s best to know what Erik does for a living more extensively. He is a Mercenary nicknamed Killmonger turned professional Hitman and a top agent for the International Contract Agency. Both Killmonger and his partner, Diana, work together during missions and she controls what jobs he’s hired to take on.

Before the ICA discovered Erik, he was a JSOC Special Ops who was kidnapped and became the product of a HYDRA experiment. The Winter Soldiers were HYDRA's elite group of assassins that were administered with Howard Stark's version of the Super Soldier Serum. Due to the mental side effects caused by Stark's serum, the Winter Soldiers were all kept in cryostasis at the HYDRA Siberian Facility, during which they were killed by Helmut Zemo. All except for Killmonger who escaped.

His genetically-engineered and enhanced body and mind (combined with his extensive knowledge and training) made him become the world's deadliest and most efficient assassin. Killmonger was a relatively emotionless assassin until Fae came into the picture. He couldn’t understand how this woman altered his controlled lifestyle so much. For once, Erik was able to relax and be himself. He was able to have real emotions.

The Ghost Fugitive was his current elusive mission he’d been hired to do months ago but Erik stalled because of Fae. He decided to move into an apartment here to keep an eye on his target. He was told to eliminate everyone involved or suspected to be involved. Instead of getting the job done, he purposefully dragged himself. He knew soon enough, Diana would come along asking questions. And that’s why he’s currently stressing. How was he going to explain this to Diana?

Erik’s phone buzzed and he turned his hip to retrieve it from his back pocket. Looking down at his phone, he paused when he’d seen her name. He hated the way he left her. She’s probably in her apartment right now questioning his change of plans. She’s probably blaming herself. Erik picked himself up from the floor and took off his shoes. He placed his jacket on the couch and took a seat.

Erik’s leg bounced as he tried to figure out what to say. She’s probably overthinking.

It wasn’t okay. He fell for her. He wasn’t supposed to fall for her.

She did have a point. He was supposed to be snugged behind her in her bed—well, that bitch nigga slept there too. He’d much rather she be in his bed right now. Cuddling with Fae beneath his sheets sounded so much better.

Erik stood up from his couch and strolled over to his door. He could see Fae leaving her apartment with Deuce in her pajamas. She knocked on his door and Erik opened it quickly. Fae slipped inside with Deuce in her arms and he shut the door. Fae’s big brown eyes looked up at him and Erik looked down at her beautiful face. Fae had her braids up in a messy bun and the cutest nightgown on. One of those nightgowns you get from Target.

“Hi.” She greeted him with a soft-spoken voice.

“Hi.” Erik replied.

“You wanted to talk?” Fae questioned.

Her eyes followed Diesel as he walked up to her. He sniffed her feet in a pair of Ugg Tasman slippers. She placed Deuce down on the floor and both dogs scurried off.

“Yeah,” Erik reached out for her hand, “Let’s go to my room.”

Fae took his hand and they walked to his room. Once inside, Erik cracked his door. Fae climbed onto his bed and kicked off her slippers. Erik took off his cargo pants and settled next to Fae. She was resting on her side while her head is propped up in her hand.

“…I’m sorry that I stormed off. I just…I was worried about Cordell popping up unexpectedly. I was thinkin’ about how he comes home every night after doing whatever the fuck it is that he’s doing and just…laying next to you after all that like shit is cool is fucked up to me. It’s manipulative. I don’t like it.”

Fae listened intently. Her eyes blinked slowly at Erik.

“…you’re too sweet, too beautiful, too much of a good woman to endure that. I love that you’re cheating back, I love that you let me do you in your apartment. I love it, I just don’t like that he’s still there…with access to you…and for that I’m sorry. It’s not my place to feel that way. You don’t owe me an explanation, ma.”

Erik turned away and stared down at his hands. Fae sat up on her knees and grabbed Erik’s shoulder. He looked up at her through his curled lashes. Fae’s eyes scanned his handsome face before she scooted closer, pressing her soft lips against his. Erik’s brows furrowed and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in closer. Fae swung a leg over him and plopped down in his lap. They kissed for a while, Erik’s fingertips rubbing up and down the dip in her spine, Fae’s hands tugging on his locs.

Erik broke their kiss and he stared into Fae’s eyes before his gaze dropped down. He couldn’t look at her without those three words echoing in his conscious. Fae kisses along his neck, causing Erik to grunt.

“Faedra,” Erik said with a hushed tone.

“Hm?”

Fae’s face was so close to his that their noses touched.

“You’re asking for it, girl…”

Fae giggled softly, “What if I am?”

Erik’s low eyes stared her down. Fae bites her lip and Erik licked his own. Fae leaned back and grabbed the bottom of her nightgown, lifting it up and over her head in one motion. Erik’s eyes fell to her breasts with stiff, brown nipples. His hands came up to palm them and Fae grabbed his face, pulling him in for another kiss. Erik’s hands roamed all over her body. He couldn’t get over how soft her skin felt.

“Don’t think, just fuck me,” Fae shoved Erik and he fell back against the bed, “Let me ride it.”

She didn’t give Erik any time to pull his briefs down. Fae’s dainty hands tugged with force and his dick bobbed out and stood tall, pointed towards her mouth. Fae slid down his body in a rush and wrapped her plump lips around his tip.

“Fuck, girl,” Erik hissed, “Damn…”

Fae swallowed him and she gagged a little. Erik’s hand curled around the base of her head and he forced his dick deeper. So deep that his balls were almost touching her chin.

Fae drew back and started sucking his length down her throat. Erik’s toes dragged across the carpet of his bedroom floor and his thigh muscles flexed. This is probably the best head he’d had in a long time. She had him shaking.

“Dayum,” Erik formed a crease in his brow and pouted his lip, “You’re such a nasty girl….ughhhhh—”

His orgasm caught him off guard. He fell back against the bed completely and dragged both of his hands down his face in disbelief. Fae’s lips popped off his thick pipe and she licked her lips before climbing up and straddling him. She squatted over him and Erik help her up with his hands beneath her ass.

Fae aimed his fat tip at her wet hole and she circled her hips over his sensitive head before slowly lowering her hips. They both sigh in unison. She placed her hands on his chest, arched her back, folded her feet beneath his strapping thighs, and bounced. Erik’s hands fell to his sides and he stared up at her with his eyes ablaze.

“Uhuh, Uhuh, Uhuh, Uhuh,” Fae moaned.

“You love this fuckin’ dick…look how you’re taking it,” Erik bites his lip, “Don’t stop.”

Fae forced her eyes shut and focused her attention on giving Erik the best ride he’s ever had. The sound of her wet pussy and skin slapping against his thighs filled the room. Fae’s braids fell from her bun and crowded her face. One of her hands came up to grip Erik by the jaw and her eyes crossed.

“You cumming? That pussy cumming?” Erik questioned with a soft voice.

Fae could only nod her head.

“You’re so fucking sexy—”

“Oh!”

Fae fell and she was pressed against Erik. Erik wrapped his arms around her and rolled over so that she was on her back again. He dragged her towards the edge of the bed and spread her thighs. With her ankles in his hands, Erik stood up and started fucking her. Fae clung to the sheets for dear life. Erik watched the way his fat dick split her pussy open wide. That clit was poking out at him, her labia was spread open and wrapped around his dick like a pair of lips, his dick was glossy from her arousal. It was beautiful.

“Erik!” Fae shouted.

He hunched over her and wrapped his hands around her neck. She looked up at him with surprise and her mouth agape.

“Oh! Uh! Yes! Daddy!”

Her body seized up and her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head.

“I love making you cum, baby…”

He slipped out and Fae gasped. Erik picked her up and placed her on her stomach with her head on a pillow. Fae’s hand slipped beneath his pillow and she could feel weighted steel. She withdrew her hand quickly and Erik noticed. Fae looked back at him over her shoulder and Erik eyes were steady on hers while his hand slipped beneath the pillow to grip the handle.

“Why do you keep it under your pillow?” Fae asked.

Erik revealed his GLOCK G20 and sat it down carefully on his bedside table with the barrel pointed in the opposite direction.

“Just a habit.” Erik said.

He spread her thighs a little so he could find her entrance. Fae’s eyes shut when his dick pushed inside deep. He propped himself up on his fists behind her and he fucked her in flat doggy-style.

Fae smashed her left cheek against the pillow and both of her hands fisted the sheets. The constant clapping and bouncing of the mattress was enough to prove how deep Erik was dickin’ Fae down.

“You’re mine..your ass is mine,” Erik said with a shaky voice from the way Fae’s pussy clenched around him.

“Yes! Yes!” Fae shouted.

Erik dropped to his knees and grabbed Fae by her braids. One hand came down on her ass with a wide open palm.

“Bring that ass up,” Erik watched with hard eyes as Fae arched her back, “Good girl…”

He went in like he never stopped. Erik used Fae’s hair to turn her head so she could look back at him. Hot tears stained her cheeks. Tears of ecstasy. Erik released her hair and placed one hand around the front of her neck. His hot tongue slipped into her drooling mouth and he licked and sucked all over her lips.

“Mhm…mmmmm,” Fae could only moan.

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” Erik spoke against her lips with a smirk.

“Please?!” Fae begged with a whiny voice.

“Ask me better than that, Fae.”

Erik released her and Fae dropped forward, hiding her face when Erik started going faster. In and out his thick pipe thrusted.

“Ask me…,” Erik whacked her across the ass again, “Open your mouth and ask me, Fae.”

“Daddy–Daddy please?—can I cum?” She spoke with a hushed tone.

“You wanna bust on this dick you better fix your arch!!!”

Fae whimpered as she pushed herself up and arched her back. Erik hummed in approval and it sent a shiver up her spine so intense her shoulders buckled. Even the kiss he placed in the center of her spine made her gasp as if she’d been doused in cold water.

“Better?” Fae replied with a trembling voice.

“Good girl, that’s my good girl!!!”

Fae couldn’t believe how fucking wet she was. That dick was sliding in and out her pussy with ease. She felt a heat in the pit of her belly and it caused tears to stream down her cheeks. She almost saw heaven. It was that intense. An out of body experience. Like her soul left its vessel for a brief intermission. She didn’t even have to announce her release, Erik felt it.

“Oh, yeah? Oh fuck yeah,” Erik grunted, “FUCK.”

He slipped out and his hot cum painted her backside. Fae dropped down on the bed like she’d been knocked out. Erik sat back on his haunches and tried to catch his breath. He was sweating so much that it dripped from his nose.

“Fae?” Erik called out to her, “You okay?”

“…mhm.”

Erik’s chest was burning from trying to catch his breath. He carefully climbed off of the bed and walked up to Fae. He smoothed her braids from her face and wasn’t surprised to find her sleeping. He palmed her booty and gave it a light slap. She squirmed and scrunched her face in such a cute way.

“I love you.” Erik said.

“Mhm.” Fae responded.

Erik knew she didn’t really hear him. But damn, he wanted her to. So bad. He grew to love her from a distance before they officially met. It was hard to explain. It hit him so fast. What was supposed to be a mission turned out to be a pleasant distraction. Erik honestly didn’t know if they would ever be together. That stung worse than the blade once wedged in his side.

Erik brought the sheets over Fae’s body and she snuggled against one of his pillows. Erik went to take a piss and when he returned he could hear his work phone vibrating. His chest grew tight with anticipation as he retrieved the phone from his side table drawer. Bringing the screen to his gaze, he shut his eyes briefly.

Diana.

Erik walked out of his room, cracking the door behind him before walking into his office. He cracked the door and answered the call.

“Meet me at Liberty State Park.”

She didn’t even wait for a response from Erik before ending the call abruptly. Erik slowly moved the phone away from his ear. He knew exactly what this was about.

Twinkling night sky, glassy ink-black water, and the reflection of the New York skyline ablaze with many lights was the view that greeted Erik’s eyes. Hands in his all black hoodie pockets, he spotted the statuesque figure of Diana with her back turned towards him. She glanced over her shoulder and her golden eyes met his briefly before she tore them away.

Erik took his place beside her silently, eyes scanning the lively city. His black Doc Martens tapped the concrete impatiently. The forty-five minute drive over felt like a waste. Whatever she has to say she could have said over the phone.

“Killmonger.” Diana greeted him.

“Diana.”

Erik looked at her with a tight jaw.

“The Ghost Fugitive.”

Erik exhaled.

“I’m handling it—”

“Faedra McAdams has been a distraction, Killmonger. Since when do you get distracted?”

Erik remained silent. He had no reason to argue Diana’s point. He had been distracted and thrown off his game.

“Do you know how long it took? Do you understand that if you don’t end this now, it would have been for nothing?” Diana said.

“Listen—”

“I know you don’t care about politics, Killmonger, but we decided to do this together because of the ICA. We can’t allow ourselves to be manipulated. You know all about manipulation, don’t you?”

Diana fully turned to stare at Erik. Her wind blown shoulder-length hair fell into her eyes and she combed her hair away. The chilly air caused her to slightly shiver.

“They’re asking questions. Do you want them to step in?”

“No.” Erik replied begrudgingly.

“Let me give you a brief reminder of how the ICA system works, Killmonger. You get three penalties. Three,” Diana emphasized the number three with her fingers, “which is generous compared to other agencies like HYDRA, but after those three strikes are up, they send a top agent such as yourself, to eliminate the Assassin. You should know about that, you do it all the time.”

Erik closed his eyes and released an even breath.

“I’m aware of the logistics, I know what the fuck I’m up against—”

“Then get it done. You have until the start of the Bankok job. If you have to burn it to dispose of your little distraction, do it. Otherwise…”

Diana retrieved an all black pistol from the back of her tight black pants and Erik’s eyes didn’t leave hers. He knew that Diana would kill Faedra. Without hesitation. In that case, he’d have to kill her. No one was going to lay a finger on Fae.

“…I’ll do it for you.”

Silence stretched on for another five seconds until Erik’s sinister chuckle caused Diana to narrow her eyes.

“…Let me make myself clear, Diana,” Erik rolled his shoulders in a threatening manner and his voice took on a deeper more menacing tone, “I’ll kill you.”

Erik’s face was centimeters away from Diana’s. His eyes didn’t blink and they looked cold and dark.

“…You don’t touch her. You don’t speak to her. You don’t even breathe around her.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed at Erik and that pistol was still in her grasp.

“Partner or not, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes, Diana,” Erik looked her up and down, “Do we have an understanding?”

“How dare you—”

“I SAID…do we have an understanding—”

“How long have you known about her? Five months?! What will she think when she finds out who you really are? Then what? You think she’ll love you, Erik? You’re incapable of love. Maybe I should remind you about what you did all those years ago to your ex. You almost killed that woman. If Fae was in her right mind, she would run so far away from you—”

Erik snatched up Diana’s gun and pointed it at her forehead. Diana stared at him wide-eyed and he could see the fear beyond her gaze. He took the safety off of the pistol and Diana stared into the barrel.

“You don’t talk about my past, Diana. You don’t get to stand there and fucking judge me. You don’t know what the fuck I’ve been through!”

Diana stared at Erik with a stony expression.

“Get that gun out my face, Erik.” Diana commands with a low, threatening tone.

Erik didn’t do it right away. After another minute he slowly lowered the gun and placed it behind him in the waistband of his pants. Dianna scuffed and shook her head before creating space between them.

“Doesn’t matter. If I don’t kill her, they will.” Diana said matter-of-factually.

“I’ll get it done. Get off my ass about it.” Erik replied.

Diana looked at Erik with disappointment. He could feel her judgment through her hard gaze.

“Have you been training for the Bangkok job?”

Club 27 is Killmonger’s current high-profile mission. He’s tasked to kill Jordan Cross and Ken Morgan. One year ago, promising young actress, Hannah Highmoore, fell to her death from Cross' penthouse loft in Dumbo, New York. According to the police, Ms. Highmoore's death was a tragic accident but her parents remain unconvinced. They firmly believe that Cross murdered Hannah and only escaped justice due to the power and influence of his father: billionaire media mogul Thomas Cross.

A secondary target, Ken Morgan, corporate fixer and attorney to the Cross family, is also staying at the hotel. Cunning and unscrupulous, Morgan was a key agent in the cover-up of Hannah Highmoore's murder and Jordan Cross' subsequent acquittal. The Highmoores understandably want retribution. And while the system may be powerless, Killmonger is anything but.

“There’s a room waiting for me at the Himmapan Hotel as we speak.” Erik replied with a dry tone.

“In that case, we’re done talking.”

Diana turned to leave and Erik caught her by the arm. She didn’t look back at him.

“…I’m really sorry about putting that gun in your face. I don’t take threats lightly.”

“What a way to apologize,” Diana chuckled, “it’s just a phase, right? You fuck her?”

Erik released Diana’s arm and she finally faced him with a sly smirk.

“You did. Oh, Killmonger…”

Erik looked at her with unblinking eyes. Diana held her hand out for her gun and Erik lifted the back of his hoodie up, retrieving the pistol. He placed it in Diana’s hand and she accepted it.

“Expect a debrief in two weeks…”

Diana walked away, leaving Erik alone to his thoughts.

Fae tried to calm him down. Her tears flooded her vision. Cordell stood there with his hands up and a frightened look in his eyes. Erik was in full rage mode. It was understandable, Cordell was really asking for it.

“I’ll kill you for what you did to her!” Erik barked out.

They were standing on the rooftop of the apartment building.

“Erik, listen to me, put the gun down.”

Fae placed one hand on his arm tenderly. Her eyes were pleading with him to put the gun down. He took one look at Fae and then his eyes were back on Cordell molten hot. He lowers his P365 slowly, eyes unblinking.

Thump!

Fae watched with wide eyes and her mouth dropped open in shock.

Erik kicked Cordell off of the rooftop. Erik watched with sinister eyes as his body dropped to his death.

Erik!

He looked back at her with a villainous smile.

Fae opened her eyes and her heartbeat settled to a lower rhythm. Sleeping on Erik’s bed felt like sleeping on a cloud. Fae yawned and her sleepy eyes looked down at Erik’s side of the bed. She had a nightmare about Erik and Cordell fighting over her. It ended with Cordell falling to his demise. Fae sat up fully and climbed out of bed to use the bathroom.

When she returned after freshening up, she stared down at his Glock on the bedside table. Fae reached out and picked up the heavy gun. She turned it every which way, wondering to herself if it was a habit of his because he was a Bodyguard for important people. That would explain why he was always on high alert.

Speaking of Erik, he disappeared again. She went on a search for her phone and found it on his dresser. Fae called Erik and each time she did, it continued to ring and ring. She started to grow worried. It was so early in the morning, why would he leave so suddenly?

She opened his closet and grabbed a random hoodie from a hanger, pulling it over her head. She left his room and walked down the length of the hallway, her eyes searching from room to room. Fae sat on the sofa while Diesel and Deuce were stretched out on the floor. All of them were waiting for Erik’s return.

She reached for his remote and powered on the TV. As she flipped through random channels, an episode of House Hunters caught her attention. Time stretched on until It was six o’clock in the morning. Fae had tried his phone multiple times again and that’s when she started thinking the worst. She figured she could feed the boys so she gave them both a quick meal. She knew that they needed to go for a walk and relieve themselves.

After another hour, the door knob jiggled and Fae shot up from the couch, almost hitting her knee against the coffee table. Both Diesel and Deuce were on their feet, tails wagging expectantly. Fae watched as Erik opened the door and he looked at her then down at the dogs. He secured the door and pushed his hood off before approaching Fae.

“Erik? I tried calling you.”

He stared at her for a second and then his eyes scanned the room. What she didn’t know, was that he’d left last night in such a hurry, he forgot his personal cell phone.

“I had to step out to prepare for that job. I’ve been caught up lately and I needed some time to get it done. I gotta leave in a matter of days…I’m sorry I didn’t let you know.”

Fae’s expression softened and she tried to hide her annoyance with a smirk and a dry chuckle.

“I was—I was just worried—how did training go?”

“Good. I feel better about the job now.” Erik replied.

“Great,” Fae rocked back and forth on her heels, “I was thinking we could walk the boys? I know they need to go to the bathroom…”

“Yeah…yeah. Go throw on a pair of my sweats and meet me out here.”

Fae disappeared down the hall and Erik exhaled. She took two minutes and she was back out and ready to go.

“Ready, pretty girl?”

“Yep.” Fae replied with a blush.

They left the apartment together and Fae walked ahead of Erik to catch the elevator. Erik caught up with her and grabbed her hand. Fae looked from their intertwined fingers and up to his face. Erik smirked at her and she returned the smile.

“I had an idea. I don’t know if you’d be down for it our not…”

The elevator doors opened and they walked inside.

“What’s that?” Fae responded with curiosity.

She leaned against the wall of the elevator and stared up at Erik with attentive eyes.

“Since this is going to be my last few days with you before I leave for Bangkok, I was wondering if you’d be okay if I took you to work in the mornings? I could even pick you up…”

Fae’s brown eyes widened and Erik chuckled.

“Uhm…yeah, I would like that. Cordell usually works late and he doesn’t come home until an hour or so after me. You can’t get enough of me, can you?”

Fae wagged her arched brows playfully.

“Nahhhh,” Erik smiled, “You got me in a trance.”

Fae giggles. The elevator doors opened and Erik gave her two quick pecks to her soft lips. They quickly left the elevator and strolled out of the apartment building and onto the busy sidewalk. They made their way to the dog park hand-in-hand.

“We could have a quickie before you clock in. A quickie before I drop you off…”

Fae nibbled on her bottom lip. Erik’s eyes scanned her body. Deuce and Diesel were both sped up at the same time, pulling Fae and Erik along.

“Looks like we’re moving too slow for them!”

“Guess so—AYE!”

Erik almost stumbled over the pavement from Diesel taking off running when the dog park came into view. Fae laughed boisterously at Erik trying to gain control of the leash.

“You should have seen your face! Priceless,” Fae was bent over laughing, “Looked like your life flashed before your eyes!”

Erik shook his head before crouching down to let Diesel free, “Aight, Fae, wasn’t that funny.”

“If it was me, you would be laughing, shut up!” Fae teased.

“You shut up, midget,” Erik fired back.

Fae shoves Erik and he fell back on his hands. He looked up at her with a glare and he shot up to his feet, wrapping his arms around her trim waist and lifting her from the ground. Fae writhed in his grasp and Deuce circled Erik’s body, barking at him.

“Momma’s good, Deuce!” Erik shouted.

“Put me down, Erik!” Fae yelled.

They were causing a scene. Others that occupied the dog park were looking their way.

“Manners.” Erik said.

“Please?!”

Erik placed Fae onto her feet and she gave him a death glare.

“Aww, you’re so adorable,” Erik teased before reaching out to pinch her cheek.

“You better had let me down or Deuce was gonna bite that ass!” Fae argues.

“Deuce is my friend,” Erik placed a hand against his chest, “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

After Diesel and Duece went to the bathroom, Fae and Erik let them both run around for a bit. Fae sat on Erik’s lap and they both watched their dogs sprint around. Fae looked down at Erik and she reached up to play in his hair.

“Hmm,” Erik gave her a tired look, “That feels good.”

“You haven’t slept. You know that?” Fae said.

“I know, mamas. I’m gonna take a long nap when we get back.” Erik reassured her.

“I don’t wanna go back to my place…”

Erik’s exhausted gaze stared up at Fae.

“Then don’t. Stay with me.”

“…you know I can’t.” Fae replied.

A silence filled the space between them. Erik scratched the side of his nose and looked down at his feet.

“Why can’t you?” He questioned.

Fae sat quietly for a few seconds. Erik knew she was trying to figure out what to say. But what was there to say? He cheated on her multiple times. He’s no good for her.

“Fae?” Erik called out to her.

“Huh?” She replied with a small voice.

“What’s up?” Erik peeked up at her.

“Nothing…I don’t know why…”

Erik felt his chest tighten with anxiousness.

“Hm, okay.”

Fae was struggling to look at him. She turned her head towards the front. Erik exhales.

“Fae…what’s it gonna take for you to leave this nigga?”

“I am gonna leave him—”

“When?” Erik cut her off.

“Soon—”

“Soon as in when that nigga get home or…?”

“Erik…”

Fae climbed down from his lap.

“I just don’t understand what the hold up is.”

Fae rolled her eyes.

“You still love him?”

She looked at Erik and opened her mouth to speak but Erik could tell.

“You do, don’t you?”

“That’s hard to just say—to stop—I don’t want to—he’s been there for me through a lot—I’m gonna leave him it’s just hard. I’m gonna be on my own. The apartment is expensive—”

“You don’t need him. Trust me, you don’t.”

Fae’s sad eyes made Erik feel guilty.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I keep overstepping. I just…I don’t understand why you just don’t leave.”

“…You’re right.”

Fae exhaled a shaky breath.

“You know, I’ve always been so dependent on a man. Even now with everything, I feel like I’m lost, you know? And it sucks. It hurts.”

Erik’s eyes softened as he stared at her.

“You don’t need to feel that way. Fae…listen, look at me, you’re such an amazing woman. You deserve so much better. I don’t want you to feel like you have to settle. So what if he lives there? The more you allow him to stick around, the more in control he is. He’s been in control long enough.”

Erik’s jaw clenched and his eyes were ablaze. Fae’s big brown eyes became watery and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Erik thumbed her tear away and Fae released an uneven sigh.

“I’m gonna leave him today.”

Erik nodded his head and he couldn’t hold back his smile.

“This is gonna be tough…”

“I’ll be right there if you need me, Fae.” Erik said.

Crazy enough, two days had gone by with no trace of Cordell. No text, no call, nothing. Fae was more than prepared to confront him about his cheating and end things for good. She contacted his mother and even she hadn’t heard from him. She was very very worried. It wasn’t like Cordell to disappear without letting her know. Even if it was a lie, he wouldn’t have gone this long without checking in. Fae couldn’t sleep, work, or think without wondering where he was.

She checked the news and even a murder page on Instagram for any updates but wouldn’t his family know? Wouldn’t the police have shown up to her door by now? Erik had been busy himself. He would call Fae whenever he had time to check in to see how she was doing and if there were any updates, but it was getting closer and closer for his departure. She had to reschedule brunch with her friends because she was distracted mentally. Plus, she knew they would start asking questions and Fae wasn’t prepared to tell them.

Fae got herself dressed for work on a chilly Wednesday morning and Erik knocked on her door. Fae grabbed her work bag and made sure everything was good before leaving. She opened the door and Erik greeted her dressed in lounge wear like he just rolled out of bed. His head was covered in a black beanie. Fae accepted a kiss from him but she wasn’t really in the mood to kiss. Cordell was missing and she didn’t have any answers. Erik however didn’t seem fazed at all. Not that she was expecting him to.

“How are you?” Erik finally questioned when they were both in his car.

Fae adjusted her black spectacles and exhaled, “I’m worried. I don’t know where he could be or what he’s doing.”

Erik pulled out of the garage. He one-hand whipped his car.

“Do you think he might be with that woman?”

Fae shut her eyes and shook her head.

“I don’t even want to think about that. I’d probably kill him when I see him.” She said.

Erik glanced over at her.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on the news myself. Nothing out of the ordinary. Unless…he was abducted—”

“Who would want to kidnap Cordell?” Fae laughed, “He’s just a teacher from NY who can’t keep his dick to himself.”

Erik bit his tongue. He had a lot to say but he remained silent. It was best for him to remain silent.

“I don’t know. I’m just worried. I have this nervous feeling in my gut. I just…I don’t understand why he hasn’t reached out. I know he isn’t shit, but this isn’t like him at all.”

Fae rubbed her temples. Erik caressed her thigh.

“Relax, Fae. I know it’s easier said than done, but you can’t keep stressing out over it. You’ve been in contact with his family. I’m sure they’re looking into it.”

“I hope so,” Fae sighs, “I even tried his job and they acted like I was crazy.”

Erik formed a crease in his brow, “Whatchu mean?”

Fae exhaled, “Apparently they don’t know a Cordell. Which makes absolutely no sense. He’s a teacher there and a coach. How the fuck wouldn’t you know?”

Erik cocked his head to the side.

“Maybe you spoke to someone who’s a new hire?”

“Maybe. I need to speak to Miss whatever her name is. The girl he’s been sleeping with.”

After another twenty minutes, Erik pulled up at Fae’s job and he reached behind him to the back seat. He got out of the car and jogged around to open her door. Fae slipped out and Erik handed over her work bag. He kissed her cheek and rubbed her arms.

“Have a good day at work. Call me when you get a break. I’ll see. You at five.”

“Thanks, E.” Fae gave him a small smile.

“No problem.”

He got back in the car and watched Fae enter the MET. When the coast was clear, Erik drove off.

Fae greeted her coworkers as she made her way to her desk. After taking her seat, she checked her work phone voice messages and none were from Cordell. She booted her laptop and tried his phone again. A hand to her shoulder startled her and Fae jumped.

“Faedra! So sorry.”

It was her supervisor, Linda. Linda was a tall, lanky Caucasian woman with salt and pepper hair that she wore in a neat bun. Her oblong face with alabaster skin came into view. Fae stared into her concrete gray eyes with a startled look.

“I came to say goodmorning and to remind you about the field trip this morning? From the middle school? Manhattan Middle?”

Fae completely forgot about that.

“Oh! Yes, yes I remember. When will they be here?”

“In about twenty minutes or so. The teachers name is Miss. Rio.”

Fae couldn’t believe her ears. She didn’t know if this was the universe giving her a sign, but Miss. Rio being here at her job had to mean something. She was with Cordell this past weekend. He could be at her home right now. Fae was going to ask questions.”

“Great. I’ll go greet them.”

“Excellent,” Linda smiled before sauntering away.

After twenty minutes, a small history class of students in a single-filed line with their name badges and wandering eyes headed towards her. Fae could make out Miss. Rio and it took a lot of strength to be professional and smile. Miss. Rio looked at her and for a second, Fae knew that she’d recognized her.

“Hello! My name is Fae! Welcome Manhattan Middle! I’m so excited to be your tour guild for the day. We have a lot of ground to cover. Please, stay together and pay attention. We’re going to start in the African Origin of Civilization exhibition first.”

Miss. Rio was dressed in a dark purple, form-fitting pencil skirt with a black blouse and black flats. She walked to the front of the line while a substitute teacher remained in the back as an extra eye on the children. Miss. Rio gave Fae a nervous smile and Fae returned the smile.

They started making their way into the exhibit and while Fae did her thing, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of Miss. Rio.

“Scholars today recognize Africa as the source of our common ancestry. But in 1974, Senegalese scholar and humanist Cheikh Anta Diop shocked and challenged historians by asserting the influence of ancient African civilizations in his groundbreaking book The African Origin of Civilization: Myth or Reality…”

Fae continued, “This exhibition pays homage to Diop by presenting masterpieces from the Museum’s collections from west and central Africa alongside art from ancient Egypt for the first time in The Met’s history.”

Fae spent time on each exhibit and answered any questions the students had before they went to the next exhibition. Three exhibits in, the children took a lunch break before finishing up. Miss. Rio excused herself to the restroom and Fae took that opportunity to corner her. The substitute teacher had an eye on the children. Fae stepped to the side to allow a mother and her two daughters to walk out before she entered. Ironically, Miss. Rio was the only one remaining in the bathroom.

Fae only waited two minutes and the bathroom stall door opened. Miss. Rio walked out and her eyes landed on Fae’s. She shut the door behind her and walks over towards the sink. Fae locked eyes with her through the mirror and after Miss. Rio dried her hands off, she turned around to face Fae.

“What do you want to know?” She said.

Fae chuckled. Miss. Rio crossed her arms and shifted her weight on one hip.

“That’s what you have to say? After sleeping with my man? Coming to my apartment and fucking him in my bed? Are you serious?” Fae fired back.

“I didn’t know he was with anyone at first—”

“So, you just went to my apartment and not once noticed anything that made you think, oh! He’s in a relationship?!” Fae whisper-yelled.

“Listen, what do you want me to say?! An apology wouldn’t be enough, right?” Miss. Rio fired back.

“Wow…You’re a joke. Anyway, that’s not why I’m confronting you, you can have him. My beef is with him. I just want to know was he with you this weekend and is he still there? He hasn’t been home in two days.”

Miss. Rio hesitated.

“Well?” Fae pressed impatiently.

“Yes. Yes he was there this weekend. He left this morning.”

Fae turned away from Miss. Rio and shut her eyes. This motherfucker has been staying with that hoe for two days and didn’t even bother to say anything.

“I have to get back to my class.”

Fae didn’t have anything further to say. She didn’t like the woman, but what good will it do to whip her ass? She’d lose her job. Miss. Rio left Fae standing in that public bathroom with tears in her eyes. She felt like a fucking bozo. Fae grabbed a few tissues and blotched her cheeks before exiting the bathroom. The students, Miss. Rio, and the substitute waited for her.

“Okay! Who wants to see the European Paintings?”

Erik was seated in Grand Central Station. He could make out an old friend of his that worked with the ICA. His name is Ethan and he’s Asian. Ethan sat behind Erik, dressed in business attire to not draw attention. Erik turned his head slightly to his right to speak.

“Sean Thomas is missing. Anything you can tell me that I need to know?” Erik spoke with a hushed voice.

Ethan took out his phone and slipped it behind him so Erik could grab a hold of it through the opening in the bench. He retrieved the phone and his eyes dropped down to look at the screen. What he could make out was that the ICA attempted to exterminate him two days ago and Sean got away. This was bad news for Erik. He’s most likely lying low until things died down. A hoard of people made their way towards them. Ethan started speaking in mandarin.

“Tòuguò zhècì xíngdòng, tāmen zhèngzài shīqù duì nǐ de xìnrèn, kè'ěr máng gē.”

Erik nodded his head and cocked it to the side. Losing their trust in him meant penalty number one.

“Wǒ gāi xiāngxìn dài ānnà ma? Wǒ gǎnjué tā duì ICA gànrǎo wǒ de rènwù fù yǒu zérèn…”

Ethan pondered before he spoke, “Dài ānnà zhàozhāng bànshì. Guòqù yīgè yuè tā yīzhí zài niǔyuē. Wǒ bù huì xiāngxìn tā.”

So, Erik shouldn’t trust Diana. His guess was correct. She’s discussing things with the ICA behind Erik’s back. He needed to call her after this and schedule another meet up. He was going to cut ties with Diana and work alone. A lot of Hitmen work alone. It’s just a heavier workload and room for more mistakes.

They waited until the coast was clear. When the last person walked past, Erik cleared his throat.

“Have they been keeping an eye on her?” Erik asked.

“They plan to do whatever it takes to find him, Killmonger. If that means taking the girl, they’ll do it.” Ethan whispered.

“How long before they strike again?”

“Twenty-four hours.” Ethan said.

Silence stretched on. The background chatter and rushed footsteps of people surrounded them. Ethan stood up and adjusted his suit jacket before retrieving his work satchel and the phone from Erik’s hand between the seat.

“Rúguǒ nín xūyào wǒ de bāngzhù, nín zhīdào rúhé liánxì wǒ.”

Ethan pat Erik on the shoulder before walking away. Erik leans forward and props his elbows up on his thighs. This was his fault. If he didn’t get caught up with Fae and tapped into his cold, blood thirsty nature, Sean Thomas would already be dead.

He had to remain ahead of the ICA.

On his way out of Grand Central Station, Erik walked up to his car and hopped in. He dialed Diana’s number and after four rings, it went to voicemail. Erik checked the time and Fae would be off within the next hour. He made his way to her job to wait for her since he was on the other side of town. He knew that he had to be honest with Fae now. It wasn’t fair for him to keep his life a secret knowing that she had a target on her back. Even if the truth would push her away, protecting her was his number one priority.

Sean Thomas is a murderer, and a Con Artist. He’s good at stealing identities and disappearing under a new alias. He’s responsible for murdering four women across the U.S from Detroit, to Chicago, to Georgia, and now New York. He got landed in prison for a robbery charge that led him to a man named Cornell. Cornell has a history of drug-related crimes and he’s from New York. While locked up with Cordell for three years, he learned everything about his cell mate.

His family, his dream job, where he grew up. Sean planned on stealing his identity and creating a new life for himself. He got out of prison and hooked up with an old partner of his to help him with his new life. He settled in N.Y.C and reunited with his “family” who hadn’t seen him in years since he was adopted at the age of three. They welcomed him in like he never left.

What he didn’t know was that he’d been tracked down by Erik. Erik was hired to find out everything he needed to know about Sean and kill him. He’d burned too many bridges and stole from too many people. While Erik finally secured his target, he was also informed to kill anyone else who may get in the way, and that included a significant other.

Fae.

Erik had to keep an eye on Fae as well and the more he watched her, the more he fell for her. He did the one thing he normally wouldn’t do: get close. Now, he’s sleeping with his targets girl friend.

Erik’s car came to a slow stop outside of Fae’s job and he called her to see if she was finished for the day. Her phone rang and went to voicemail. Panic crept up Erik’s spine the more she wouldn’t answer. He opened his car door with force and stepped out onto the busy street. His eyes searched for anything that would give away someone watching her. From what he could tell, there was no sign of danger below.

His obsidian eyes looked towards the tops of the skyscrapers and buildings. His eyes double-backed to a short building with an open window across from the MET and three spots over. Erik knew that the window hadn’t been opened before. He had a snipers eye as well, so his gut instinct told him that a sniper was camped out in that building, waiting for Fae to arrive.

The best way for Erik to know for sure was to enter that building himself. It was broad daylight and rush hour in one of the busiest cities in the U.S. Erik rushed across the street as fast as he could and took long strides towards the building. He noted an alley and a back entrance to the building. Erik dipped down the alley and ran towards the end until he came across a lengthy fire escape. From what he remembers, the open window was on the top floor.

Erik climbed the fire escape two steps at a time. It took him five minutes to make it to the top since the building was only eight stories tall. Once there. Erik retrieved his gun and stood stealthily to the side of the cracked, dingy window. He risked a peep inside and all he could make out was a bunch of plastic sheeting since the building was still under construction.

Erik crouched down and with his back pressed firmly against the brick wall, he used his. Right hand to open the window carefully. Once fully opened, Erik ducked inside swiftly, his foot crunching down on broken cement and dust. His Maxim 9 pistol with a silencer integrated into the gun aimed in front of him, Erik moved haltingly with his eyes scanning the abandoned floor like a hawk. He made it into a room almost the size of a box and there, propped up in the window was a Mk 13 Mod 0/5/7 sniper rifle.

Erik surveyed the area to make sure the coast was clear. Whoever had been occupying this pot must have been here for less than eight hours. Erik got down on his knee and peeked through the sniper scope. It was aimed for the MET. He knew that Fae hadn’t been killed, but the sniper would have taken a shot if Erik hadn’t shown up. Just then, Erik’s phone vibrated deep in his back pocket. He quickly stood up and when he grabbed his phone, it was Fae calling him.

“Fae?” Erik answered.

“I’m sorry. I had to leave work earlier today. I took an Uber.”

Erik paced back and forth.

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have picked you up.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I know you’ve been busy lately. I’m at the apartment now. Just got here.”

“Any luck with Cordell?” Erik questioned.

“No. Still nothing.”

“I’m on my way, Fae. Just—”

A garrote wire wrapped around Erik’s throat from behind, cutting off his airway. His phone dropped from his grasp and fell to the hard floor, the screen cracking and blacking out. Erik’s fingers gripped the edge of the wire and he could feel it cutting into his fingers and drawing blood. He planted his feet firmly against the floor and with brunt force, Erik shoved the person trying to choke him back, their body hitting the wall with a loud thud.

The wire slipped from Erik’s neck, leaving behind an indentation and slight blood. Erik didn’t have time to properly catch his breath. He turned and came face to face with a masked man dressed in dark camouflage and boots. The man charged Erik and Erik’s closed fist planted between the bridge of their nose and forehead. It was a sharp punch with a lot of recoil. There was no coming back from that. Erik put them to sleep.

Their body went limp and they were splayed out on the dusty floor like a starfish. Erik took that time to rub his neck and catch his breath. Suddenly, the man clipped Erik and he fell backwards on his hands to catch himself. The masked man did a kick up and was on his feet within seconds. Erik did the same move and they both broke out in combat with hard punching, dodging, kicks, and grunts.

Erik caught both of his arms and head-butted the man before body slamming him so hard his back bowed. While he squirmed, Erik’s fingers fisted the front of his camouflage jacket and he dragged him over to the wall where he tossed him against it like a rag doll. Erik put his foot in that man’s stomach before using his bloody fist to take off the mask. A Caucasian male with a rough face covered in blood and bruises met his ferocious gaze.

“The ICA sent you?” Erik questioned with a hoarse voice, “ANSWER ME!”

Erik pressed the barrel of his pistol into the man’s chin. He was probably seeing double with how hard Erik thumped him.

“Y-You’re supposed to-suppose to be one–one of us.”

As he attempted to talk, blood sprayed from between his lips.

“So that’s a yes,” Erik chuckled darkly.

He pistol-whipped the sniper with the handle of his gun, knocking him out for good. Erik emptied his pockets and found a phone, wallet, keys, and a few knives. Erik combed through his wallet before pocketing it. The phone was locked, so he wouldn’t be able to figure out how to hack it until he got back to his apartment.

He needed to get back to his apartment.

Fae was alone and an easy target without him there. Erik rushed to grab a dust barrier, snatching it from the wall and he shielded himself from the blood splatter that would come from killing the sniper. Silencer aimed at his head a safe distance away, Erik fired his pistol and the bullet hit his target in the temple. Erik cleaned up any other traces of him being there and wrapped up the dust barrier, tucking it beneath his arm before making his escape.

“Erik? Hello? Erik?”

Fae stood outside of her apartment with her phone to her ear. The call dropped suddenly between her and Erik. She pulled the phone away from her left ear and gave the device a puzzled look. Dialing him again, Erik didn’t answer.

“What the fuck?” Fae mouthed.

Confused, Fae fumbled with her keys while trying to enter her apartment. The door opened and she pushed her way inside, exhausted mentally from the amount of stress she’d been experiencing because of Cordell. Fae sat her work bag on the hardwood floor beside the door and removed her shoes. After tossing her keys on a small table next to the door, Fae proceeded to walk further into her apartment. Just then, rustling could be heard coming from her room. Fae paused, her ears perked to catch the noise again. She knew that Deuce was there, but he wouldn’t be in her things like that.

Fae walked towards the back of her apartment, her eyes staring straight ahead cautiously at her cracked bedroom door. A hard thump followed by soft cursing had Fae paralyzed with fear. One hand pressed to her chest, body frozen in that hallway, Fae’s eyes fell on her guest bedroom door and noticed it had been shut. She didn’t close it before she left that morning. Deuce was most likely in there so he wouldn’t get in the way. Deuce would be barking right now if it were a stranger. So it had to be someone he was familiar with rummaging around in Fae’s room.

Fae rushed towards her bedroom door with a fresh wave of courage, pushing the door open with force and coming face-to-face with the cheating man himself.

“Cordell?!”

The room looked as if a stampede passed through. It was filthy. Papers everywhere, clothes littering the entire room, dresser drawers out turned and hanging from the hinges, closet ras at nsacked, mattress hanging from the box spring. Fae’s wide, shocked eyes looked back at Cordell with her mouth parted.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” She shouted.

Cordell simply looked at her with distant eyes before focusing back on finding whatever the FUCK it was he was looking for. Fae was livid.

“HELLO?! I’m talking to you!!”

Fae stomped over to Cordell, almost slipping on the papers scattered across the carpet. She caught herself by falling backwards onto the bed.

“Hey, HEY!” Fae gripped Cordell by his shoulder and forced him to turn back, “ANSWER ME ASSHOLE!”

“Get off of me, Fae.” Cordell finally spoke with a cold tone.

“Get off of you? Why don’t you explain to me why you’re vandalizing my fucking room, dick head?!!”

“WHERE DID YOU PUT IT?”

Cordell stood at his full height, towering over Fae. His voice seemed to change. It was deeper. Unfriendly. Unfamiliar. Cold. Fae cocked her head back and created space between them.

“Put what, Cordell?”

Cordell blinked at her and then he dropped his eyes down to the floor, “Doesn’t matter. It isn’t here.”

He was on his knees now, spreading the papers out, important papers that belonged to Fae. What is his deal?

“Where have you been, Cordell? I’ve been calling your phone and texting you for two days now!”

He ignored her again. Fae was shaking with rage.

“You know what! I’m sick of this shit. I’m so fucking sick and tired of your no good, CHEATING ASS!”

Cordell halted in his pursuit to find whatever it was he was looking for. His eyes slowly ascended to meet Fae’s. His face was void of expression.

“Yeah, I’ve known for days now that you’ve been cheating on me. Not one, but two women! One of which had a field trip at my job today. Miss. Rio?! She tells me you’ve been shacking it up with her all this time!”

Cordell bowed his head and exhaled.

Fae had a finger pointed at him aggressively and her voice was so loud it bounced off of the walls, “How could you disrespect me and bring these nasty women to MY APARTMENT WHERE I SLEEP?! How could you do this to me?! After everything I opened up to you about?! How I’ve been cheated on and mistreated in the past?!”

Fae’s vision blurred as tears flowed from her eyes. Cry-face and all, she was on a rampage. Cordell finally stood up and he just looked at her with no ounce of remorse. No sorries, no care as to how she felt. Nothing. Just a piece of shit man.

“YOU NEVER LOVED ME, HUH?!!! I loved you! I would have done anything for you!!!! How could you—just–how could you just stand there and say nothing?!!”

Fae threw her hands up and stared at Cordell with sadness. She was broken. He broke her. She tried to stop herself from crying, but the more she stood there, waiting for him to speak, the clearer it was to her that he didn’t care. He didn’t love her.

“ANSWER ME, CORDELL!!!!”

Cordell slowly blinked at her and then he started smirking. SMIRKING?! Fae was taken aback. She didn’t even know how to react to that. What kind of sick individual do you have to be to stand there and find this situation amusing?

“…what is wrong with you?” Fae questioned with a tremble in her voice.

Cordell turned his gaze towards the ceiling and released a slow, even breath. Fae waited, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.

“You wanna know why I was so drawn to you, Fae?”

Fae squinted her eyes at Cordell with confusion.

“…it’s because I could see that you were broken. I could see the pain. I could see that you craved love and affection. No matter how many times your heart had been broken, you still loved hard. An easy girl. Easy to manipulate. To control. To trick. That’s what I craved. And guess what? That’s exactly what I needed to secure what I really wanted from you…”

A hand covered Fae’s mouth and she scanned Cordell’s face, in full disbelief of what he was saying to her right now. It was so disheartening and cruel. She was stunned to silence even though she wanted to break down and cry.

“You see, I’d just gotten out of prison before I met you. I had no place to go…to start fresh…to make a new living for myself. Just like the other bitches before you, I played my part and used my skills to weasel my way in. As soon as I found out about all that money you were sittin’ on…fuck…I knew I hit the jackpot.”

Fae couldn’t believe her ears. She lowered her gaze and scanned the floor. She’d recently moved her paperwork that had all of her information regarding the money she’d gotten from her mother’s death. It was a lot of money. Fae hadn’t thought about it much lately because she planned to use that money to purchase a home soon. A beautiful home in upstate New York. Now, she wondered if Cordell had been planning to stealing from her all this time.

“And now, I need that back, Faedra.”

Cordell stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to reveal where she’d put them.

“…Do you even work as a teacher?”

Cordell narrowed his eyes at her.

“No.” Cordell replied nonchalantly.

“So, what was all that shit about seeing Miss. Rio at school?!”

Cordell shook his head and chuckled with annoyance.

“I go to the school during her lunch break and fuck her, Fae.”

Fae was numb to it all now.

“Wow…wow…”

She placed her hands on her hips and tried to fathom why she ended up in this situation.

“I know it’s a lot to take in right now….but I need that bank information.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me for it?” Fae mocked.

Cordell tilted his head and stared at her unblinking. Fae stared at him with a mixture of shock and fear.

“Believe it or not, Miss. Rio is in on it. The other chick? She had bank too until I cleaned her out. Miss. Rio and I have an understanding where no matter how pissed off we are with each other, we’ll always get back together. It’s been that way for years. Anyway, I played my part to get what I wanted.”

“Wow…Congratulations, Cordell. You really fooled me. Too bad I fooled you too.”

Cordell gave Fae a confused look.

“You wanna know what I’ve been up to these past few days? Closer than you think. Right next door actually.”

Cordell’s entire demeanor switched to anger.

“That’s right, I’ve been fucking the neighbor.”

Cordell balled his fists up and his nostrils flared. He was becoming even more aggressive. Fae folded her arms and smirked at him.

“It was good too. The first time. So good I ain’t never have dick like that before in my life. He’s big, he’s attentive, he knows how to work my body, he spoils me, he adores me, Deuce loves him. He fucked me so good in our bed when you were gone this past weekend…mmm…all over the bed. In the shower…on the sink…”

Cordell’s eye twitched. He was ready to snap. Fae knew she was pushing her luck, but one thing about Cordell, he hated Erik. He knew deep down that Erik is more of man than he ever was. He was afraid of Erik. Afraid of what he was capable of. Not only did Fae feel his big dick energy the moment she laid eyes on him, Cordell did too. Erik stole the one thing Cordell thought he could control forever. That struck a nerve.

“I can still feel him inside of me right now…raw…thick…long…”

Cordell took a step towards Fae.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it? Knowing that another man makes me cum with his mouth and his dick? Treats me with respect? A man I barely knew? Stings, doesn’t it? I hope it does. Because that’s how I felt. You’re right, I do love hard. I did allow myself to be mistreated more than once. Guess what? I took back my power! And it felt soooo good.”

Fae’s tears rolled down her cheeks. She shook with rage. She felt empowered.

“Damn,” Cordell shook his head with disgust, “Just desperate, huh? You think that’s a flex? You offered up the pussy to a random nigga you barely know just to get your lick back? That’s some wild shit…”

Cordell broke out into a fit of laughter. He doubled over and laughed. Fae simply stared at him. She knew he would deflect and turn it against her. Didn’t matter, she still won. She could see past it all. His ego was bruised.

“Now, since you got that off your chest, back to the main issue,” Cordell started walking towards Fae, “Where…is…the…bank information, Faedra?”

Fae backed away and almost tripped over a dresser drawer. She caught herself against the wall and eased towards the bedroom door.

“Don’t act scared now, Fae. You were so bold not too long ago.”

“I’m not giving you the information, Cordell.” Fae said.

“Hm, you will. Even if I have to choke it out of you.”

Fae took off running and Cordell was right on her heels. He pushed her and she fell to the floor in the hallway. Deuce started clawing at the door and aggressively barking. Fae lifted herself by her arms and looked up at Cordell. He grabbed her by her hair and forced her to look at him. Fae gasped, trying to unravel Cordell’s hand from her braids.

“It’s okay. You must want me to take it by force, huh? I got just the trick…”

Reaching behind him, Cordell revealed a Glock 17. He aimed it at Fae’s sternum and pressed the barrel firmly into her chest. Fae squeezed her eyes shut and her tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Now, I’m not gonna kill you here. I’m taking you with me. On your feet, NOW.”

He yanked her by the hair to control her movements and it felt as if he ripped her hair from her scalp. Fae whimpered in pain and looked up at Cordell with a petrified gaze. He trailed the barrel of the Glock 17 up the side of her neck and then stuck it deep into the flesh of her cheek.

“Get your shit, we’re going for a ride, baby girl.”

With one forceful shove, Fae stumbled further down the hallway, afraid to look back at the gun aimed at her head, ready to fire.

Ding

The elevator doors separated and Erik didn’t wait for them to fully open before he rushed out and into the hallway of the thirteenth floor. He jogged up to Fae’s apartment door and banged.

“Fae?!”

He couldn’t use his cell phone because it had blacked out. His other phone is in his apartment, but all he cared about at the moment was whether or not she was safe.

Erik tried that door knob and was shocked to find it opened. Shocked and anxious. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, looking from left to right.

“FAEDRA!!!”

Erik shut the apartment door and sprinted towards her bedroom. Deuce’s barking stilled his footsteps and he opened the door for him to come out of the guest bedroom. Deuce leaped up at him, continuously barking as if he had something important to communicate to Erik.

Erik’s heart practically rattled within his rib cage when he followed Deuce in the direction of Fae’s room. Erik’s thick finger pushed the door back and as it creaked open, his eyes grew wide and his lips parted. It was a disaster.

Sean had been here. He was looking for something and Fae showed up at the wrong time. He’d taken her. Erik combed through the room to find anything that stood out at him. Most of the papers chaotically covering the floor were important documents like bills and work information. Erik made his way back out towards the living room, scooping up Deuce and leaving the apartment.

Out in the hall, Erik quickly opened his door and rushed inside, placing Deuce on the floor and locking his door. He knew no one had been to his apartment? Because he would have seen them coming and going. He couldn’t check the surveillance on his broken phone so he entered his room and retrieved his work phone.

Erik had placed a tracker on Fae’s phone the night she’d discovered Sean AKA Cordell had been cheating on her. It was the best way to keep tabs on her while he was away. Using his private tracking app, Erik was able to see where she was. Sean was on his way to the Bronx. Erik was never able to track Sean’s phone. The man may be a coward, but he was a great criminal. He was good at what he did. Swindle, rob, and murder.

Erik made his way towards the foot of his bed and after placing his cell phone within his back pocket, he used both of his hands to lift his mattress. Underneath was a gun safe filled with all types of weapons. Erik tucked a few hand guns in his waistband, two blades in his socks, extended clips, and a few silencer attachments

Lastly, he retrieved a full face, tactical mask in all black. Diesel tried to gain his attention, and Erik didn’t want to leave Deuce and him alone, but he had to save Fae or Sean was going to kill her. Rushing into his office, he opened his closet door and grabbed a vest and a pair of biker gloves. Before Erik left the apartment, he made sure there was enough food for the boys and then he was out the door.

Erik was out of that garage and onto the street. He used his all black sport bike to get their faster. The sun was setting and the longer it took to get there, it would be too late. Erik would never forgive himself. He refused to let anything happen to her. Bluetooth connection from the bike allowed him to follow their trail. Her sensor paused on Edson Avenue. Erik was fifteen minutes away.

Fae was led towards a beautifully maintained residence, a place where comfort meets convenience in the vibrant neighborhood of the Bronx. The large fenced-in private yard is adorned with men who didn’t look like the type to mess around with. One look past the weed smoke, you could sense the evil within.

She was taken around the side of the home to a set of concrete steps that led down towards a door. Cordell forced Fae to walk down the steps and she took her time so she wouldn’t fall. When they finally reached the bottom, Cordell banged twice and five seconds later, the door swung open and Fae locked eyes with Miss. Rio.

“La trajiste aquí, Sean?!” Miss. Rio argued. Rolling her eyes at Fae.

“Cálmate, I had to, Alejandra.”

She kissed her teeth and stepped to the side. Cordell entered the basement and Alejandra shut the door.

“Did you find it?” She questioned impatiently.

“No. I combed that apartment and ain’t find shit.”

“After playing house all this time you still don’t know where it is?!”

Fae cut her eyes at Alejandra and mugged her. She had a gun pointed at her back, there was no use in fighting her way out of there.

“She moved shit around, baby!” Cordell fired back.

“We had a plan! Our plan was to take that money and get out of New York! What now? No money, no leaving. I thought we were going to give Gabby a better life?”

Who’s Gabby?

“We will, we will. I promise. I’m not going anywhere, we’re back together as a family. Stop stressing.”

“estúpido,” Alejandra rolled her eyes, “you fucked her because I gave you permission!”

“Alejandra, I’m not getting into this argument with you right now. Listen, baby, while you stand there yelling at me, we’re wasting time. Get the chair and the rope for me.”

Alejandra turned on her heels, jet black hair swaying behind her as she walked away to get the chair and rope Cordell requested. Fae was beyond dumbfounded. Who the hell is Sean and who the hell is Gabby?! Alejandra appeared and with an aggravated look on her face she sat the folding chair down and presented red rope for Cordell to take.

Fae was reminded of the gun aimed at her spine when Cordell aggressively shoved her with it. She winced, walking over to the chair while Alejandra forced her to take a seat with her hands on Fae’s shoulders pushing downward. Fae took that opportunity to raise her leg and put her foot in her back so hard Alejandra fell face first on the floor of the unfinished basement.

“You BITCH!”

Fae didn’t see it coming. She wasn’t prepared for Cordell’s assault.

WHACK!

A hard, crisp, head-hurting, back-handed slap to Fae’s face caused her bottom lip to split open and bleed. Hot tears flooded her vision and she bowed her head, stunned and embarrassed.

“I FUCKING HATE YOU!” Fae shouted.

“YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED HER FOR WHAT SHE DID!”

Alejandra wrapped her small first around Fae’s hair and yanked. Fae looked her in the eyes with a rage beyond words. Alejandra smirked with her glossy lips before spitting in Fae’s face. Fae squeezed her eyes shut to avoid it from getting in her eyes.

“perra estúpida…estás muerta perra…”

Fae wipes her face free of tears and spit and she used her tongue to lick up the blood. Cordell pressed the barrel of the gun into Fae’s temple.

“I need you to give me your information so I can get the money myself. I want you to write out a check for the full amount and take it from there. Do you understand?”

“…Yes.” Fae responded.

“That’s all you had to do, baby. I wouldn’t have put my hands on you if you weren’t being so fucking difficult.”

Cordell disappeared behind Fae and he tossed Alejandra his gun so she could keep it locked on Fae. Cordell wrapped Fae to the hard, metal chair tightly.

“We’ll keep you here for the night. First thing tomorrow morning, we’re heading to the bank.”

Fae watched as Cordell strolled over to Alejandra. He gripped her chin delicately and used his thumb to caress it. They closed the space between them and kissed passionately, like lovers would. It was just a reminder that he never loved her. It was all a game to him.

“Who’s Sean and Gabby, Cordell?” Fae questioned with a shaky voice.

Cordell slowly turned his head to look at her.

“…I guess I owe you that much. Gonna be dead within the next twenty four hours anyway…”

He leaned his back against a wall and folded his hands over his crotch.

“…My real name is Sean. Cordell is a stolen identity from a cell mate of mine some years ago. I decided to make a new life for myself since I was on the run from other shit that went down…anyway, I got in with his family. They accepted me without hesitation, because Cordell hadn’t been in their life since he was three. I knew that I needed money, so I did what I do best. I found you, did my best impression of the perfect man, and finally I get to take what I’ve worked so hard for…”

Fae listened, hanging on to every word. She was dealing with a real criminal mastermind. The worst kind of individual.

“Alejandra and I go way back,” Cordell laughed and Alejandra blushes, “She’s been my down-bitch since I could remember…yeah…I met her in ‘08 through her brother which is a partner of mine. Derrick and I used to get into some shit back in the day. We reunited when I got out of prison and we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other…she got pregnant with a beautiful baby girl, and it made me want to work harder to get us a better life. We plan to get away to Mexico hopefully.”

“Wait…you have a daughter?” Fae was stunned.

“…All those times I went to work? I was actually spending quality time with Gabriella. She’s three, almost four. Full of life, funny, smart. The best thing to ever happen to me…”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. A secret child? A life of crime? An ex-con? On the run?

What the fuck?

“Story time is over, papi. She knows too much already.” Alejandra said.

“When the lady speaks, you listen.”

Cordell wrapped his arms around Alejandra’s waist and stared longingly into her eyes. Fae wanted to vomit.

“Make sure Pedro and his guys keep an eye on her. You know what I want, right?”

Cordell smacked Alejandra on the butt through her jeans.

“Está bien, papi.”

With a bite of her lip, Alejandra peeled away and towards the basement door leading to outside. She shouted at the men standing in front of the house. Two of them descended the stairs into the basement. They stared at Fae with amusement. Sinister smirks and dark chuckles.

“You know what to do if she tries anything. Slap her around.”

Cordell and Alejandra leave Fae alone with the two Latino men.

4403 Edson Avenue.

The night sky and flickering street lights made Erik blend in. He parked his bike a few homes down and slipped on his tactical mask. Erik knew a little about the neighborhood. It was a community full of Latin Kings. One of the biggest Hispanic gangs in the U.S with a power base built on massive amounts of drug trafficking and a reputation for violence. So much power that the law couldn’t even control them.

Derrick Rio is a member of the Latin Kings and Sean’s partner in crime. Alejandra Rio is a wolf in sheep clothing. She’s a friendly teacher by day, and a drug dealer by night. Erik had known about Sean and Rio for a while now. However, he doesn’t know what their plan is with Fae. Why hold her hostage? Why not just go on the run again?

As Erik stealthily made his way towards the house, he couldn’t help but blame himself. Fae wouldn’t have been kidnapped if he killed Sean when he had the chance. He brushed this job off as a side hustle. If he’d known from the beginning that it was much bigger than he initially thought, he would have handled it before the ICA intervened. He called himself trying to be multiple steps ahead. Turns out he was wrong. He’s never wrong.

Outside of the single family home, Hispanic men littered the front yard smoking weed and goofing around. Erik assumed this house was Mis Rio’s. His assumption was correct when the lady herself appeared from the side of the house.

“Oye, ¿podéis ustedes dos vigilarla hasta que regresemos?”

She asked if two of the men could keep an eye on Fae. That meant that Erik didn’t need to go on a search for her. She was in the basement. Two men separated from three others and headed towards the side of the home. Erik crouched down and moved along the side of a black Chevrolet Tahoe. He could smell their weed and his eyes searched to see if there was a way he could get around them and do a sneak attack.

Two mean were leaning against an all black Honda Civic while the other was pacing back and forth. As far as physical appearances goes, they didn’t appear to be a threat. All three of them looked between the ages of eighteen and twenty five. Erik guessed that they didn’t have a say in whether or not they would join the Latin Kings. If your friends and family are affiliated, then it’s destined for you to be.

Erik got down on one knee and grasped the handle of his B&T SS9 pistol and plucked a silencer out of his front vest pocket to screw on. With a full magazine, Erik took a second to position his pistol and then he shot up from behind the car so fast they didn’t see it coming.

The muzzle blasted off followed by a reduced pop similar to the sound of a puff of air. The first two young men slumped backwards against the car and the last man was two seconds two late trying to grab a hold of his gun before Erik put a bullet in his head.

Erik made his way over to them to make sure he’d finished the job and after close inspection, all three of them experienced instant death. Erik moved as quickly as he could and he dragged their bodies one-by-one towards the yard of the house, stacking them next to a trash can. Now that he had that taken care of, Erik jogged over towards the stairs leading down into the basement.

There is a short, black curtain concealing the window within the door. He was able to get a tiny peek inside of the basement and he could see two men guarding and watching Fae like a hawk. Straining his neck, Erik could only see Fae’s lower half sitting in a folding chair and restrained with red rope. The best option was to draw one of them out. Erik knocked on the door with two quick rasps before speeding up the short concrete stairs and hiding.

Like clock work, a short, beefy, latino male with buzz cut hair opened the side door and stepped out. Erik tightened the grip on his pistol when he started to climb the stairs. His shadow could be seen coming closer so Erik turned fully to face him. With quick precision, Erik raised his gun, and as soon as his feet touched the top step, Erik gave him a head shot to the temple. With all his strength, he caught him before he hit the ground hard. He slowly lowered him to the steps.

Now, he descends the stairs. He didn’t even waste time. Erik appeared within the doorway and the other guy—slicked back stringy hair, tattoos all over his face and arms—did a double take and stood up. He raised up on Erik and grabbed his hand gun from the front of his jeans. Erik was faster; swifter. He snatched his gun and used his pistol with the silencer to kill him.

He hit the floor with a hard crash. Fae could be heard trying to catch her barely audible breath. Erik turned his relieved eyes onto Fae and he quickly revealed himself so she wouldn’t think he was trying to harm her. The way her face transformed in front of him almost made him emotional.

Fae looked as if she’d seen a guardian angel. Her eyes lit up like sparklers in the summer and her lips spread into a slight smile while tears streamed down her cheeks. As Erik approached her, Fae continued to cry, only this time she was breaking down. As Erik got closer, he could see a blue-black bruise on the side of her face and her lower lip was swollen and bleeding.

She looked as if she wanted to shout his name. Erik watched her writhe and cry, too anxious to wrap her arms around him. Erik worked fast and after a final knot the rope fell from her body. Speedily, Fae shot up from the fold chair and turned, embracing Erik with a hug similar to a boa constrictor. Erik rubbed her back and with one gloved hand he cupped the back of her head, leaning in to plant a few kisses to her forehead.

“Thank you…thank you…thank you…”

Fae wouldn’t let him go. She was cutting off his circulation.

“It’s okay…I’m here now…you’re safe…no one’s gonna hurt you any more…it’s okay, Fae. It’s okay…”

He pried her arms from around him and stared down at her.

“We gotta go. The longer we stick around, the more dangerous this shit becomes…”

Erik gripped Fae’s much smaller hand and they both made their way towards the stairs leading up. Erik halted his steps and turned his eyes onto Fae with intensity.

“You have to stay back at all times, do you understand? I refuse to let you die.”

“Okay,” Fae swallowed spit, “What about Sean and Alejandra?”

Erik looked at her for a second before speaking. So, he told her his real name?

“I’m going to kill them.” Erik replied.

Fae nodded her head and let out a sigh of relief.

“Listen to me, stay right here. I’ll come back for you.”

Erik kissed Fae’s forehead one more time, put his mask back on, and made his way up the steps.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

The music continued to blast and all eyes turned towards Erik materializing from the basement. In unison, they all stood to their seat, guns raised and aimed at him. Erik put both of his hands up and slowly backed away towards the door. The closer he went, his eyes scanned the room and one of the thugs closest to him had an AK47 pointed at Erik. Erik didn’t take his eyes off of him.

“NO TE MUEVES!”

Derrick Rio marched out from the kitchen. Erik locked eyes with him. He’s a pretty boi with slicked back wavy hair, earrings in his ears, and swagger. Teardrop tattoos on both sides proved that he was a killer. The scar on his right cheek let Erik know that his face had been sliced open. Nothing scary to Erik. Just a wanna be gangsta. He’d killed plenty of those types.

“Do you know who you’re fucking with?”

Erik remained silent.

Derrick squinted his eyes, “Can’t speak, brother? Hard of hearing?”

“HABLAR!!”

The AK47 almost touched Erik’s cheek. Erik finally parted his lips to speak.

“…quita esa arma de mi cara antes de que te haga.”

The man laughed in Erik’s face.

“KILL HIM, ACE—”

Erik did a move similar to Denzel in The Equalizer and now he had possession of the AK47. His finger didn’t hesitate to fire off rounds in Ace’s ugly face. Erik dropped behind a couch and it was guns blazing. Erik would appear from behind the couch and fire off rounds into anybody he had his eyes on. He didn’t miss. He was better at this. In the middle of it all, Sean and Alejandra were at the top of the steps, no intentions on going down stairs. They didn’t know what was happening or who the masked man was.

Bullets flying, holes in the walls, shattered glass, ruined furniture. Derrick was the only one left standing. He couldn’t believe one man took out a room full of Latin Kings. Erik walked from behind the couch and made his way over to him. Derrick didn’t know whether to point his gun at Erik and shoot or run for his life.

“Ima get yo’ ass either way, Derrick. Just put the gun down and put your hands behind your head.” Erik said.

Derrick hesitates, but eventually he complied. His pistol dropped to the floor and both of his hands raised and his fingers interlocked behind his head. He tilted his chin up and gave Erik a prideful look.

“I’ve waited for the moment I get the chance to kill off a Rio…”

POP! POP! POP!

Derrick’s body slowly and dramatically slid down the eggshell-white wall, a vertical trail of crimson painting the surface. Derrick’s head dangled to the side and he went limp. Erik peeled his eyes away from his lifeless body and just then, from the stairs, Sean began shooting at Erik. Erik ducked and moved out of the way just in time.

“COME OUT MOTHERFUCKER!!”

“Derrick! Oh my God! NO—”

“STAY BACK ALEJANDRA!”

“MY BROTHER! mi hermano esta muerto! ¡DERRICK!”

Erik looked at Fae from the top of the basement stairs. She was holding onto the railing with a vice grip. Erik extended a hand for her to take and Fae clung to him as Erik pulled. Fae rushed up the stairs and pressed her small frame against Erik’s back. Sean continued to fire off rounds at nothing.

“COME THE FUCK OUT! FACE ME!”

Erik dropped the AK47 to the floor and grabbed another fully loaded pistol with a silencer.

“Get down, Fae.”

Erik walked out and shot back at Sean. Fae crawled out on her hands and knees, staying back while she looked up at Erik putting in that work. If it was any other moment, Fae would have been turned on. Right now, all she wanted to do was get her hands on Alejandra. Sean didn’t stand a chance with Erik.

POW! POW! POW!

POP! POP! POP!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“URRR! UGH!”

Erik got Sean in his shoulder. Sean quickly scurried backwards up the stairs, shoving Alejandra as he went to get her to move. She got to her feet and tried her best to move Sean.

“BITCH! GET BACK AND HIDE!” Sean shouted.

Alejandra dropped him and ran away towards the room they were having sex in. She wasn’t even full dressed. She only had on a pair of panties.

“Shit,” Sean hyperventilates while trying to apply pressure to his wound, “Fuck—”

POP! POP!

Sean fired off his gun and Erik dodged a bullet to the face. Sean got to his feet and stumbled into a vacant room to his right. He pressed his back against the door and tried to catch his breath but each time he breathed in, his lungs were on fire.

Erik was at the bottom of their stairs and Fae came come out of hiding. She creeped over towards the side of the staircase and out of sight. One look at her beautiful face, Erik wordlessly reminded her that everything was going to be alright.

“STOP HIDING, SEAN! WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT TOUGH GUY SHIT?” Erik yelled up the stairs.

“FUCK YOU, NIGGA!” Sean replied with a shout.

“YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON FAE! YOU COWARD ASS NIGGA! I SHOULD’VE KILLED YOU A LONG TIME AGO!!”

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TO QUESTION ME?!”

Sean peeked his head out of the room and his eyes widened and bulged. Erik had taken off his tactical mask.

“You…” Sean spoke with astonishment.

“WHAT’S UP, NEIGHBOR?!”

POP! POP!

Cordell moved out of the way and two holes formed in the door. Erik took two steps at a time and Sean jumped out at him, swinging a bat and hitting Erik in his ribs. Erik couldn’t feel the impact too much since he wore a vest. Snatching off his gloves, Erik gave Sean a mean uppercut in his stomach and then a jab to his face, clipping him in the jaw. Sean stumbled backwards, blood gushing from his mouth.

“THAT’S FOR PUTTING YOUR HANDS ON FAE!”

Fae cautiously climbed the stairs. She remained a safe distance away while Sean and Erik tussled.

“GET THE FUCK UP!” Erik barked out with a sonorous voice and spit flying, “NOW!”

Sean would try to stand on his two feet and Erik would knock him back down again with his fist colliding with his jaw. Erik released a menacing chuckle with his fists covered in blood.

Alejandra dashed out of the room and charged at Erik. She started windmilling him and Erik grabbed her frail arms and shoved her ass back. That was Fae’s moment.

“ALEJANDRA!”

Brown eyes connected and Alejandra tried to escape but Fae grabbed her by the ankle and she fell to the floor in the hallway. Fae clawed her way up towards Alejandra’s face and she wrapped her fist in her hair and yanked so hard a chunk of her hair ripped out.

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” Alejandra screamed.

“Baby!” Sean shouted.

Erik put Sean in a head lock. Sean struggled, his left fingers grabbing a vase from a small table and smashing it over Erik’s head. Erik ate that shit like he had a skull made from steel. He picked Sean up and like Bane, he put his knee in his spine and dropped him to the floor.

“SEAN!” Alejandra cried out.

Alejandra punched Fae in the face and kicked her off before racing down the hall and back to the room. Inside, she found a gun and turned on her heels. Fae moved out of the way and Alejandra fired off the gun into the hall. Erik took this opportunity to use Sean as a shield. He picked him up by the back of his neck.

The bullets entered his torso and his body shook from side to side. Erik had Sean by the neck and he brought his lips to his ear to give him one last word before he fell into eternal slumber.

“That fake LV bag you gifted Fae? That shit was a chew toy for our boys.”

Erik let out a dark chuckle and then dropped Sean to the floor. He could see Sean crawling and Erik cocked his head back and scrunched his face up in a disgusted manner.

“Nigga, you still moving?”

POP!

Fae was paralyzed. To witness her ex being murdered in front of her felt unreal. She turned away so she wouldn’t look into his dead eyes.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!”

Alejandra shot at Erik and he caught a bullet in the chest. Fae gasped, ready to come to his aid, but Erik’s vest is bullet proof.

Click click click

She was out of bullets.

Fae ran so fast towards her Erik didn’t have time to do it himself. She tackled Alejandra to the floor in the room and Erik jogged over, watching them tussle. He went to grab Alejandra by her arm but Fae pushed him back.

“No! No Erik! Let me handle her!”

She drew her fist back and jabbed Alejandra in the face.

“She spit on me!”

Erik furrowed his brows and looked down at Alejandra like she was the scum of the earth.

“That’s some nasty shit.” He said with a hushed tone.

Fae climbed on top of Alejandra and wrapped her fists around her neck. She squeezed and squeezed, Alejandra turning purple in the face.

“AYE!”

Erik had his pistol in his grip fast and turned to shoot down the hallway. More thugs came to the rescue. The entire neighborhood was full of Latin Kings. A neighbor probably put word out that they were in trouble.

Alejandra used Fae’s hair for leverage and flipped them over so that Fae was on her back. She stood and dragged Fae by the hair towards the bathroom where she lifted the toilet seat with her foot, preparing to water board her. Fae saw what she was attempting to do, so she used her legs muscles to stand and she had Alejandra by the hair again, twisting her neck.

“GET OFF ME!” Alejandra screamed like a banshee.

“YOU GOT MY HAIR, BITCH!” Fae yelled.

Alejandra tugged and Fae tugged harder. They were out of breath, muscles fatigued, and hearts racing.

“LET ME GO, STUPID BITCHHHHH!!!!!!!” Alejandra screeched.

POP! POP! POP!

POW! POW!

Erik was holding it down at the top of the stairs. They just wouldn’t stop coming. At first, he was shocked that the police hadn’t shown up, but then he remembered the power that the Latin Kings had, and that most of the police were on their payroll.

Back in the bathroom, Fae was finally able to get Alejandra off of her hair. She picked up a rat tail comb with a metal tip and stabbed Alejandra in the thigh. She let her go and leaped back, pulling the comb out, blood spraying out of the small puncture. They were both pumped full of adrenaline that any pain they felt didn’t register in their minds.

B-cup titties swaying, Alejandra lunged at Fae and Fae stepped out of the way, watching her trip over the toilet. She got behind her and smushed her face along the rim of the toilet seat.

“AHHHHHHH!!!!” Alejandra shouted.

Water covered the floor and Fae slipped.

“COME HERE!”

Alejandra grabbed Fae by the ankle and Fae kicked her in the face. Fae fell back against the wall and pushed up on her feet. Before Alejandra could attack Fae again, Fae pushed her so hard, her head hit the mirror and put a crack in it. Alejandra fell to the ground and Fae could see a laceration on her scalp and blood.

“FAE!”

Erik returned to the room, face sweaty and locs wild in his face. You couldn’t tell from his dark clothing that he had blood there. Fae’s knees buckled and Erik caught her. He gripped her face and examined her.

“I gotta get you outta here,” Erik looked down at Alejandra, “I’ll finish her off.”

Erik didn’t hesitate when he aimed his gun for the back of her head and pulled the trigger. Blood pooled out of her head and onto the tile floor.

Erik grabbed Fae’s hand and they ran so fast down the hall and steps. They decided to leave through the basement. Fae collected her things and Erik made sure he didn’t leave any of his guns behind. They left the home in just enough time, taking the back way and down an alley. Just then, like a scene from a movie, the entire home exploded. Fae had never seen anything like it.

“How—”

“Let’s go, Fae.” Erik urged.

They ran two blocks until Erik could spot his sport bike. Putting his mask back on, Erik worked quickly to take off his vest. He had a hoodie on underneath that he slipped over Fae’s head.

Fae’s tired eyes scanned his body covered in a fitted black beater. Erik put the vest back on and hopped onto the bike. With his strength, he wrapped an arm around Fae’s slim waist and placed her on the bike behind him. He revved it up and Fae wrapped her arms securely around him. Hood up, Erik zoomed off down the street. When he finally made it off of the block and onto the busy rode, he could see NYPD, Paramedics, and two Fire trucks.

Even as the bike slowed down to a stop, Fae didn’t take her cheek off of Erik’s back. She opened her eyes and looked around, noticing that they weren’t back at the apartment. They were parked outside of a warehouse in Staten Island. They’d been riding for an hour and a half. Time was lost to her, all she kept thinking about was the nights events. Erik climbed off of the bike and turned towards Fae.

Fae looked up at him as he removed his mask.

The tears began to pour. She will be forever grateful that Erik rescued her. He removed his gloves and cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs smeared away her tears.

Fae parted her dry lips to speak, “He was trying to steal the money I’d gotten from my mother’s death.”

“That explains why your room looked the way it did. How much money did you get?”

“About 100k…”

Erik strokes her cheek.

“I moved the information to a safe that I have hidden in my guest bedroom. That’s where I keep all of my personal documents.”

“Smart,” Erik smirked at her, “I’m just happy to be looking at you right now. I thought I was too late…”

“How did you know where to find me?” Fae questioned with a trembling voice.

Erik hesitated speaking and Fae noticed. She searched his eyes and then Erik dropped his gaze to the dirt.

“Fae…I haven’t been honest with you.”

Fae tilted her head but remained silent. Exhaling, Erik took both of her hands in his and squeezed.

“…I’m not a bodyguard.”

Fae nodded her head slowly her eyes lowering to their hands.

“I’m a professional Hitman.”

Fae’s head lifted to look at him again.

“I’ve been assigned to a job to track down Sean and kill him. He has an extensive history of murder and scamming from all across the U.S. I’ve been assigned to the job for five months…”

Fae stared at Erik with an intense gaze.

“I have something to show you.”

Erik helped her off of the bike and they headed towards the warehouse.

“As a Hitman, we have these specific safeguards implemented in different states. In New York, there’s three. I’m stationed here until I decide to relocate.”

Fae allowed Erik to lead her towards a door on the side of the warehouse. Erik used his thumb against a fingerprint identifier and it ignited green. The door clicked open and Erik walked inside. The door shut on its own behind Fae and as if the warehouse was controlled by some artificial intelligence, everything came to life.

She didn’t know which area to take in first. On one end of the warehouse, there were parked cars and bikes. On another side there was an area for combat. In the middle there is a work station with many computers and a giant TV screen suspended from the ceiling. Fae’s eyes fell on a wall covered in weapons from guns, to knives. Finally, she spotted another wall with a spotlight. This wall was covered with a diagram of photos thumbtacked together.

Erik made his way over to that specific wall with Fae in tow. As they inched closer, Fae recognized something that caused her to pull her hand away from Erik’s. She walked around him and over towards that wall. Fae’s footsteps paused right before the giant billboard and she looked back at Erik with a mixture of confusion and frustration.

“Erik…why am I up here?”

Fae’s eyes scanned the billboard. The covert photography of her made her feel uneasy. There were photos of her leaving work, her apartment, New Jersey, walking Deuce, out with friends, on dates with Sean. Any and everything she could be doing. There were even photos of her through her apartment windows from a distance.

“Wha–wha—I–I don’t—I don’t understand. I—”

Fae wrinkled her nose and her mouth fell open. She blinked her eyes rapidly, as if trying to make sense of what she was staring at. Erik stood in front of her, a guilty expression on his face.

“Fae…I was given the job to Kill Sean—”

“You told me that already.” Fae spoke.

“…So, with that job came rules. Rules that can’t be broken. Not only was Sean a target…you were too. I had orders to assassinate you and him.”

Fae’s lower lip quivered.

“All this time? So what? You moved in next door so you could keep tabs on me? You showed up and tricked me into having sex with you—”

“NO.” Erik cut Fae off.

“So why did you get close to me?! Why did you even do that knowing the risk?!!”

Erik shrugged, unable to find the right words. He looked towards the ceiling, hands in his pockets.

“I just…Fae I fell for you.”

Fae narrowed her eyes at him and tightened her jaw.

“This may sound crazy, but all that time I spent following you, watching you, learning everything about you…I started catching feelings—”

“STOP.”

Fae put her hands up and shut her eyes.

“This is crazy,” She ran a hand over her frizzy hair, “So you fucked me and sent me back to a psycho when you could have told me the truth?! What is wrong with you???!!!!”

“I COULDN’T TELL YOU THE TRUTH!” Erik shouted.

“”WHY? WHY NOT?” Fae yelled back.

Erik put his hands together, leaning in with his face inches away.

“WHY NOT, ERIK?”

“Fae, please. I fucked up, I know that, okay? But you gotta understand me when I say this…what I do, and the people I work for…they don’t play about shit like this. They will interfere and fuck shit up. The ONLY REASON why shit hit the fan, is because of my partner. I have to update her on everything that’s going on. She put a bug in their ear, making me look bad. SHE WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU.”

Fae flinched when Erik’s tone went dark as his tone elevated. He was pissed. Locs in his face, slugs peeking through and muscles flexed.

“AND I WOULD HAVE KILLED HER!!!!…okay?” Erik lowered his voice to a soft timbre and tucked his chin, looking at fae through his lashes with a penetrating gaze and flared nostrils, “I fucked up because I caught feelings. It was deeper than a hit, baby. I fell in love with you. I couldn’t be cold-blooded Killmonger. All eyes were on me 24/7. If I would have said one thing to you, I could have found you dead in your apartment.”

His chest rose and fell with deep breaths. Fae hugged herself and her vision blurred with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Erik shook his head, “I truly am, baby. I know I fucked up. Sean would have had fhe entire Latin Kings coming after you if he so much as caught a whiff of anything. Alejandra and Derrick are a part of the Latin Kings. She was in your apartment. They knew where you worked, where you lived…Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?!”

Fae nibbled on her bottom lip to try and calm her hiccuping from crying. She nodded her head rapidly in understanding.

“You have every right to hate me right now. I wish I could go back and fix this. I wish I could, baby. I wish you never met that fucking nigga…”

Erik’s hands pulled Fae into his body. She looked up at him and her hands were pressed against his chest.

“…I wish you didn’t have to go through what you went through tonight…”

Erik’s body shook with rage.

“I knew where you were tonight because I put a tracker on your cell phone that night after the bar. I’m glad I did. Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to find you…”

Fae shifted from one foot to the other. She was nervous. Erik lifted her chin so she could look at him.

“I want to be honest with you. I want…”

Erik’s eyes went from her lips to her eyes.

“I want what you want. Even if that means you want nothing to do with me.”

Fae lowered her head and stared at her hands against his chest. She had a migraine, her face hurt, her body hurt, her hair was a mess, her ex was a murderer and used her for her money, Erik is a Hitman. It was all too much. Her head was ready to explode. And now, she’s finding out that she was supposed to be dead too? Not only did Sean want to kill her, so did the people that Erik worked for. But wait did he just say—

“Fae?”

Erik’s voice snapped her out of her daze. She slowly lifted her head to look at him.

“You love me?” Fae asked.

“…Yes.”

It all made sense to her now.

“Was that why you left my apartment that night? You were going to tell me that you loved me, weren’t you?…”

Erik smirked, “Yeah, I was.”

Fae chuckles as tears rolled down her cheeks, “You should have.”

She broke down crying and Erik wrapped his arms around her and hugged her right.

“This is a lot,” Fae said with a shaky voice.

“It is. I couldn’t wait to tell you tomorrow. You deserved to know…you been deserved to know.”

“…Wow,” Fae shakes her head, “I can’t believe this is my life…”

She pulled away from Erik so she could look at him.

“Erik, I’ve only known you for such a short while, but when I’m with you…I’m a better version of myself. You bring out this confidence and self worth in me that I never knew I had,” Fae released a shaky breath, “I’ve been so broken so many times,” Her bottom lip trembled, “And you showed me the true meaning of what it’s like to be loved.”

Erik stared at her, a soft smile on his face.

“…You didn’t have to fall for me, you could have just—just done your job and got rid of me. And as much as I don’t like that you kept this a secret, all of it just proves that you cared for me, a girl you barely even knew…you saved my life in so many ways. And I just want you to know, I love you too.”

Fae pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes to control her tears. Erik felt his own eyes sting. He blinked his eyes rapidly to stop himself from crying.

“Fae,” Erik picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, “I told you, you’re special. You’re amazing. I love you...”

She buried her face into his neck and Erik rubbed his hands up and down her spine.

Fae sniffled, “I want to go home…”

Erik couldn’t agree more.

The energy felt different.

The moment she entered his apartment, she felt like it was her home. Her apartment didn’t feel like home anymore. It was tainted with Sean. Everything he touched, his side of the bed, his clothes, his scent. She didn’t want any part of it.

Erik took her bag from her and helped her remove her boots. They silently walked together, Erik guiding her to his room. Diesel and Deuce were excited to see them. In Erik’s room, he shut the door behind him and proceeded to undress Fae. His eyes never left hers as each layer of clothing peeled away from her frame. Erik walked her to his bathroom and sat her down on the toilet while he ran her bath.

Fae watched him take off his vest, beater, boots, and socks. They were both filthy, but Erik was concerned with making sure Fae was clean and comfortable. The bath water ran and Erik poured in epsom salt. He opened his medicine cabinet and grabbed all the first aid items to tend to her injuries. When the water had finished, Erik turned off the tap and he helped Fae into the tub.

He got down on his knees and went to work cleaning her off. He gently washed her off and after each pass of the sponge, he would press his lips into her wet flesh. Fae felt an instant jolt of arousal. She couldn’t control the pleasant tingling between her legs when he washed her there with a rag. She gripped his wrist and they locked eyes. Even with a bruised face and scared lip, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Fae’s hand covered Erik’s and she guided his fingers lower. He got the hint and sat the rag on the edge of the tub. Two thick fingers found her entrance and pushed inside. Fae gasped, Erik muting her noises with his lips. Fae gripped the edge of the tub and fell back so that she could tilt her hips for deeper access.

Erik didn’t take his eyes off of her. Fae pressed her face into his arm and nibbled on his skin. Erik could see her juices and feel how creamy her pussy is for him. Her nipples were rock hard and making Erik’s mouth water.

“Erik…”

She squeezed her thighs together and the water sloshed as her body moved back and forth with her climax. She exhaled an airy breath and her walls convulsed around his fingers. Erik slipped his fingers out and sucked them clean. He let the water out and helped Fae to her feet. Erik grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. Back in the room, he sat her down on his bed and proceeded to rub her body down with a soothing and calming body oil scented with a sweet aroma of vanilla combined with a surprising touch of lemon.

“Killmonger.” Fae spoke.

Erik chuckled while massaging her body with the oil, “That’s my nickname.”

“Why Killmonger? I mean, I know you’re a killer…”

“…I earned the nickname from the amount of kills I racked up. It was so impressive that they had to give me a nickname for it…”

“Okay,” Fae giggled, “I like it…it’s sexy.”

Erik’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared behind his locs.

“Hmm, really?” His dimples popped out while trying to hide his blush, “I’m glad you think so.”

Fae rolled her eyes, “I mean…it’s fitting…”

“Fitting for what else?” Erik looked down at her while massaging her feet.

“…with the way you kill this pussy—”

“Huh? What was that, Miss Fae? I couldn’t hear you.” Erik teased.

“I said, with the way you kill this pussy…”

Erik bowed his head and laughed. When he finished, He dressed Fae in an old graphic T-shirt of Jimi Hendrix and he excused himself to take a shower. Fae used that opportunity to go see Deuce. The last time she’d seen her dog was before she left for work that morning. Fae walked out barefoot with her frizzy and loose braids up in a bun. Her scalp felt so tender and sore. She found Deuce and Diesel both lying in Erik’s office. Deuce ran up to her as Fae got down on her knees. Up on his hind legs, Fae hugged him and couldn’t help but to cry.

Sean could have killed Deuce. She was so happy that he was safe. She was so happy that she didn’t die and she could come home to her boy. Diesel rubbed his head against her and Fae gave him a hug too. She smiled brightly at both of them and couldn’t help but to giggle. I guess that means Diesel was her dog now too.

Fae stood up and walked around Erik’s office. Her curious eyes moved about the room, taking it all in with a new perspective. Sure, he was in Special Ops and she understood that killing people came with the job, but it felt different knowing that he’s a Hitman. Fae skimmed her fingers over his books when Erik appeared. He was oiled down himself and wearing a pair of all black ball shorts.

“I came to see the boys and I started snooping around. I know, I’m pryjng,” Fae tucked her chin bashfully.

“It’s okay. You’re curious.” Erik said.

“It just seems so…mysterious…”

Erik walked up behind Fae and pressed his lips against her exposed neck.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

That made Fae feel good knowing that. She turned to him and Erik’s lips were on hers. They tongue kissed while their hands roamed all over each other’s bodies. Erik had his hands full of Fae’s ass and he backed out of his office. They walked backwards into his room and Erik slammed the door shut to keep the boys out. With only a single lamp light on, it gave off the perfect vibe.

Erik sat down on the edge of the bed with Fae between his legs. She cupped his face while they continued to kiss. Their heads moved back and forth and their tongues reached crevices that elicited sounds of pleasure. Fae needed him. She didn’t care that her body was sore, she needed him inside of her. Erik did too, his dick was brick hard and tenting the front of his shorts.

Fae broke the kiss and she lifted his T-shirt over her head, naked body the perfect shape in Erik’s eyes with the softest skin that glistened similar to honey. Fae took her place in his lap with her pussy sitting directly over his clothed erection. Erik couldn’t get over how soft and smooth her skin felt beneath his calloused hands.

His lips kissed her neck, her collarbones, and between her breasts. He tilted Fae’s body back and her breasts were pushed out towards his mouth. He sucked each dark brown nipple into his mouth and flicked them greedily with his thick tongue. Fae arched her back and gripped Erik’s shoulders tight when he started humping her from underneath.

“Unh….”

Fae’s moans sounded angelic.

Erik pressed his face between her breasts and grunted. His dick was twitching between her pussy lips.

“Fuck…I need you,” Erik whispered.

“I need you too…”

Fae dug her fingers into Erik’s shorts and they wrapped around his fat dick. She whipped it out and lifted her hips while her hand pointed his tip towards her opening. Erik exhaled a longing breath. She sat down on him fully and Erik bounced her.

“Fuck…fuck…” Erik was staring up at Fae through hooded eyes, “I missed this pussy…”

“Mm!” Fae’s mouth fell open, “Mmm!”

Her moans were driving him crazy.

“Mm! Mm! Unh! Uh! Ooo!”

“You’re a fuckin’ angel, baby,” Erik praises.

He secured one arm around her waist, sliding his hips lower so he could plant his feet on the floor, and he pumped upward while simultaneously bouncing Fae, bringing her down on his dick himself. She had a death grip on Erik’s shoulders. She was so small and limber while Erik’s much larger and more powerful body controlled her movements.

“Ahhhh, ahhhhh…” Erik couldn’t hold back from making his own noises, “That’s it baby…let me do all the work…”

“Oh gosh,” Fae moaned, “Yes!”

“I’m deep and I ain’t leaving, baby,” Erik groaned, “Mhm…too much big dick?”

“No,” Fae said with a whiny voice.

“That’s my good girl…”

She came on his dick and Erik raised his hips to the bed again. He lifted her off of his dick and got down on his knees. He started eating Fae’s pussy while she was standing up. She couldn’t believe it. He hiked her thigh up and proceeded to suck on her pussy while his other hand fisted his dick.

“Shit,” Fae wrapped her fingers around his locs, “Mmm!”

Fae’s leg shook out of control and she fell forward against the bed. Erik’s hand smacked her on the ass and she positioned herself so that she was hanging over the edge of the bed. Erik turned and started eating it from the back. Fae rocked her hips back and forth, feeding her pussy to his plump lips and thick tongue. Erik spread her cheeks as best as he could so he could get every inch of that pretty, pink puss in his mouth. He was sucking that shit off the bone and Fae was losing her sanity.

“Daddy, please don’t stop,” Fae moaned weakly.

He slurped her pussy, put his tongue in that pussy, sucked on that clit, tongued her folds. Fae was drooling into the sheets.

“OH FUCK!”

She bit down on her bottom lip, the pain from her scar mixed with the pleasure of getting her pussy devoured giving her a big orgasm. She convulsed and released into Erik’s waiting, gluttonous mouth.

He sat up and Fae turned her body. Erik was on his feet and with his lustful eyes watching her, he took off his shorts, revealing his fat dick and balls. It was so hard that the veins in his shaft popped out. His tip is covered in pre-cum and dying to be sucked on. Fae arched her back and grabbed his dick. She looked up at him and wrapped her lips around him.

She took her time putting him down her throat. It’s a big boy. Erik’s humming and grunting caused her clit to jump. It was thick enough to make her jaw muscles sore and long enough to trigger her gag reflex.

“There you go…good girl…such a good girl,” Erik tilted his head so he could watch, “Get daddy’s dick in there, baby…”

She started sucking him while tugging on his sack. Erik’s brows furrowed and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. His eye rolled shut and his head went back. All Fae could see was his beautifully-sculpted body and the long swath of his neck.

“Just like that…look at you…mmm, mmm, mmm…”

Erik groaned when Fae focused on slurping his wide tip between her lips. She knew that’s what he liked. He loved it when she did it nice and slow. Her spit rolled down her chin and she looked into his eyes while sucking. That’s what did it.

“Fae…”

She loved it when he said her name.

“Fae…”

Keep saying my name.

“Damn, here it comes—”

Fae swallowed him whole. She tightened her throat and milked him while the tip of her tongue wiggled in his slit. Thick, warm, nut coated her tongue. She slowly released his dick from her mouth and it popped out covered in spit. Erik stuck his tongue down her throat with his fingers around her neck to control the flow. Fae sucked on his bottom lip like a pacifier.

“I’m gon’ fuck you all over this bed,” Erik said with a husky voice barely above a whisper, “And your ass gon’ take it every single time…”

“I need it, big daddy,” Fae whispered seductively.

Erik raised a single brow at her.

“I can handle it,” Fae spoke confidently with a smirk.

Erik picked her up and put her ass on the edge of his dresser.

“You can handle it, huh? Yeah?” Erik plopped his dick down on her pussy and guided his hips so his dick could glide up and down between her fat, outer lips.

“Yes,” Fae moaned.

“Your pussy is wet and gushy, mamas…”

He hooked his arms beneath her knees and with his hips, he thrust forward and his tip slipped between her labia and popped right into that wet pussy. He pressed further inside until he was halfway in before retracting his hips slowly, only to thrust back inside again.

“Fuck,” Fae gasped when Erik twisted her hips, “Mmm!”

She gripped the edge of the dresser with one hand while the other wrapped around Erik’s neck. His crotch and lower abdomen collided with Fae’s inner thighs and it stung so good.

“Daddy, you’re fucking me so good!”

“Mhm…I know it is, look at this dick.”

Fae tried to watch but he was digging her out so good she couldn’t focus.

“Oooo…I know whatchu finna do, pretty mama…daddy making that pussy cum, I know it.”

“I can’t control it, daddy—”

Fae’s pussy pushed Erik’s dick out and she rubbed her clit back and forth, her juices like a fountain.

“So that’s what I gotta do to make that pussy squirt like that?”

Erik crouched down to lick it up. Fae couldn’t control her legs from squirming and shaking. Erik needed to make her do that again. He moved her to the bed and parted Fae’s legs with his hands on the back of her thighs. Erik got up on that bed, dug his toes into the mattress, and started grinding his hips so that his dick could hit her spot. Each time he would thrust, his hips would grind, making his fat dick hit her spot.

“Oooo!” Fae started crying, “I’m gonna squirt again!”

“That’s what I want, give me that shit,” Erik commanded.

“It’s all for you!”

That was music to Erik’s ears. Fae looked up at him and he had his bottom lip between his teeth and a smirk on his face. She was falling apart beneath him and he just fucked her like that with a dimpled smirk and a big dick. He was dangerous.

“My pussy, daddy!”

Fae’s eyes crossed and Erik was pushed out once again. It just kept going. He beat her clit with his tip and she just covered him and the sheets.

“Dayum, you’re my little waterfall for real, fuck. I love it when you make a mess on me…”

“It’s so much, I’m sorry,” Fae shielded her face with her arm to hide her blush.

“Don’t be sorry about what that pussy can do, baby…”

He had his mouth on her pussy again. Fae was growing lightheaded. Erik looked up at her through his lashes and licked his lips.

“You okay?” He questioned.

“Mhm,” Fae replied.

Erik gave her a moment to catch her breath and then he sat up in the middle of the bed. He made a come-hither motion with his fingers and a bite of his lip and Fae crawled to him. She straddled him and Erik lined his dick up with that beautiful pussy again for more. Fae sank down on him fully until her ass was sitting on his balls. Erik dropped his thighs out and leaned back on one hand. He rolled his hips up slowly and fae rolled her hips down on him. Her hands were on his shoulders and she was looking down at him from above. They were locked in a sensual gaze.

“Tell me you love me.” Erik whispered.

“I love you,” Fae whispered back.

“Say it again.”

“I love you…”

Erik hooked his arms beneath her armpits and gripped her shoulders from behind. Fae cupped his face and they kissed passionately. Erik broke the kiss and his tongue licked along Fae’s jaw. He dug his heels into the bed and surprised Fae with sharp upstrokes with his hands planted on the bed. She was squirting again.

“UNH! UNH! UNH!”

It was ball-slapping strokes. Erik lowered his hips back to the bed and his dick slipped out with ease. He shook his locs from his eyes and lifted from the bed.

“C’mere…bring that pussy here.”

Fae took one look at that dick and she whimpered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll l be back in there. Arch that back.”

She did as she was told. Erik nibbled and kissed all over her ass. He put a humb in her butt and his dick deep in her pussy from the back. Fae’s hips bounced off of him causing her cheeks to turn red.

“Go head, cry into the sheets, tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels so good!”

“You taking it, mamas. Just watching you take this dick makes me so hard.”

“Yes, daddy!” Fae moaned.

“Don’t stop taking this dick…don’t stop taking this dick…”

Fae turned her head back and forth, she fisted the sheets, she cried out. Erik would speed up, then slow down. Bring her to the peek, then edge her.

“Can I cum daddy?! Please?! Can I cum, please?!”

“Cum on this dick right fuckin’ now.”

“Unh—ahhh!”

It was creamy and slippery. Erik watched with his bottom lip pouted and gold slugs gleaming. That pussy was hot and tight.

“Daddy, I feel you throbbing inside me!”

“Yeah?” Erik growled, “SHIT—”

“YES! Right there—”

“UGH!”

Erik gripped her waist for leverage and he withdrew his hips. Fae spun around quickly and opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Erik held her gaze through his locs and his mouth formed an ‘O’ while he jerked himself. His cum shot out like a spider’s web. It covered Fae’s face and tongue. Erik couldn’t believe how much it was. Fae cleaned off as much as she could and then Erik left to grab a wet rag.

He returned and cleaned Fae off. They both went to the bathroom and after using the toilet, took a shower together. Fae let Erik fuck her up against the shower wall with her chest pressed against it. She reached behind her to hold onto his thigh while he took that pussy from behind. He slipped out and Fae got down on her knees again to clean him off. They were both satisfied.

When they were done, they both rubbed eachother down with the oil again and stood at his sink to tend to their scars. Fae sat on the sink and Erik took his time tending to her. She did the same for him, it was mostly his knuckles. It was so intimate.

Teeth brushed, Erik put a towel down on the bed to cover Fae’s mess and snuggled together beneath the sheets. Fae rested her head on Erik’s chest with one arm draped across his torso. Erik stared up at the ceiling while playing in her hair.

“I love you, Fae. I mean it.”

Fae sat up and looked up at Erik through her lashes.

“I know you do. I love you too.”

Erik shut his eyes and smirked. Fae caressed his thick lips with her fingertips. Erik caught them between his lips causing Fae to giggle.

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[the-thing-withfeathers]

know your worth

a/n: thank you to the anon that requested thisss!! this is my first time around writing some angst for billie so it was actually a cool learning experience hehe. there will 100% be a part two to this.

part 2

request

pairing: billie eilish x reader

warnings: annngggst, toxic relationship, billie neglecting you, cursing, arguments.

summary: billie’s been neglecting you recently to the point of standing you up sometimes and you finally decide to say something about it.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you stood outside the restaurant you were supposed to meet billie outside of, in the rain, in the cold.

you had spent too long waiting for her to the point where you felt embarrassed when the waiters would check on you. you just decided to leave without grabbing anything to eat, making sure to leave an apologetic tip.

you finally called it when you opened up instagram after texting & calling relentlessly. you saw that she was partying with her friends on one of their stories. your look of disappointment was one that was hard to miss. tears started to form in your eyes when you realised your girlfriend either forgot about you or didn’t care at all. both were equally as painful.

you took an uber here as you & billie were going to drive back together in the car you two often shared when she wasn’t been escorted in limos. you had no time to wait for one so you whistled and called a taxi instead.

it took everything in you to hold back crying so that the poor taxi driver didn’t have to witness the mess you were.

while in the back of the taxi, you thought about how this all started in the first place.

billie had come home after a long year’s tour, you were waiting for her at the airport. it was pure bliss to feel her arms wrap around you again for the first time in a long time. you lifted her into the air and spun her around.

despite her being home from tour though, she still worked everyday. she spent time in the studio and it felt like days would never end. you did work too but you got home much earlier than she did. however, it was comforting knowing she would come straight home to you. you would greet her with home-cooked meals, already doing most of the housework. she was grateful at first, but then you noticed her mood started to change.

she started just going straight to bed, ignoring your meal that you had set up for the two of you. you would join her in bed but she’d shelter from any touch you tried to give her even if it was just a cuddle. you started suggesting date nights like movies but she always gave the excuse of being too tired. part of you felt horrible for feeling neglected as you know how hard she worked and if you were in her place, you’d be tired too.

you started to tell your friends about this. they made you see that you worked long days too despite coming home earlier, but you still made an effort. you had no idea why billie was suddenly acting this way.

even more pain came when you realised that she was free some nights, you just had no idea. she spent those nights partying with her friends, without you there. sometimes you’d even see her getting close to some other girl in a video your mutual friend took. you felt your heart break at the thought that maybe billie just outgrew you.

when you arrived home, you handed the cash to the driver, quickly making your way back to your apartment. you slammed the door behind you, leaning your back against it. you finally get the tears go, finding it harder to breathe.

you had gotten dolled up in hopes that she may finally choose you just for one night.

you ran into your shared bedroom, swinging open the closet door and grabbing a bag for yourself. you started packing some clothes just to last you a couple of nights, you rang one of your closest friends asking them if you could stay the night.

you heard them sigh at the other end of the phone, knowing they were holding back an “i told you so.” or maybe even an “about time.” you just weren’t in the mood to hear it. they understood that and just responded with an “of course you can stay.”

you felt humiliated that you allowed yourself to put up with it for as long as you did. you just loved billie too much to give up now. your relationship was hard work, you’d hate for it to become futile.

you just wanted the girl you fell in love with back. the girl that had an endless list of romantic gestures to surprise you with, the girl that used to write songs about you and perform them before she showed it to anyone else, the girl that loved you just as much as you loved her. you missed that side of billie, and you wondered if maybe that girl was too far gone.

you heard the door swing open, soft footsteps making their way across your apartment. you felt yourself freeze, fight or flight kicking in. for the first time in your life, you were scared of billie. not scared of what she might do but scared because it was practically like interacting with a stranger. you had no idea what she might say to the sight of you packing up to leave her.

would she be mad? would she let you go? would she try to fight? all those questions terrified you. the uncertainty scared the living daylights out of you.

you finished up packing your clothes just as she entered your bedroom.

“hey baby, what’s going on?” she asked, slurring her words a little bit. she was inebriated, of course she was. you didn’t answer her, making your way to the bathroom to grab your toiletries.

“baby.” she said, a bit more firm. you stuttered in your step when the nickname came out of her mouth but shook it away. she just looked confused at you when you chucked them into your bag.

“i’m done, bils.” you said, grinding your teeth as you zipped your bag shut. you walked to your bedside table to grab your chargers. “i’m done being treated like shit.”

“c’mon baby, i don’t treat you like shit.” she said, letting out a dry chuckle as a smile formed. “you’re being dramatic.”

“really?!” you said, angry. your tears started to form again, you tried to hold them back as you didn’t want to show weakness in front of her. “you fucking ditched me today, i was all alone in that restaurant waiting for you.”

her smile suddenly faded. she forgot. she didn’t care. you didn’t know.

“i’m so busy, baby. you can’t seriously expect me to be perfect and remember all our dates.” she tried to make up an excuse. you were hurt that she didn’t even apologise.

“busy enough to go to a party with your friends?” you snapped, aggressively shoving your charger into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “be so fucking for real right now, billie. you didn’t forget. you just don’t give a shit anymore.”

“oh fuck you!” she said, pointing at you. “if i didn’t give a shit about you, you wouldn’t even be here right now!” she yelled.

“wow. that shows me how fucking disposable income am then. i didn’t realise you saw me that way.” you said, walking past her and shoulder bumping her. “after everything i’ve done, how can you say that?!” you asked, turning around to look at her, standing in the living room.

you should have walked away, but given the fact that this is the most attention billie’s shown you, you wanted to stay and fight.

“you know what? you are disposable. i could have anyone! they’d be okay with me going out and partying.” she scoffed.

“yeah? well when you find someone that loves you just as much as i do despite you neglecting them, you let me know!”

“i will!” she said, walking closer to you. “i bet it won’t be hard.”

you laughed, anger seeping through your voice. “fuck you, billie. maybe you can go ask that girl you were grinding on at that party last week. tell me, did you sleep with her? is that why you’re being like this? did you cheat?”

“no, i didn’t. but maybe i should have, she was more fun than you’ll ever be. at least she wasn’t a damn shut in with no life.” she spat out.

you went quiet, did billie actually say that to you?

you were so hurt by her words, you thought you had been a good enough partner to her. maybe you weren’t enough for her, and the thought of that brought you to your breaking point.

“fuck…” you whimpered out, covering your mouth. “you’ve changed so much… you’re not the girl i fell in love with anymore…”

she scoffed at you, “well maybe i should’ve been this way all along. i feel good like this.”

“fine… be that way.” you said, turning around and twisting the door knob.

“you’re nothing without me! you love being useful to me” she called after you. “where are you gonna go?!” she asked.

“anywhere but here.” you slammed the door shut as you made your way out of your apartment, leaving the love of your life behind.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

billie woke up the next morning, groaning with a pounding headache that she couldn’t seem to best. she didn’t remember much about the party last night— nor did she remember the argument you had.

she only remembered when she opened up your shared closet to get dressed and found the majority of your clothes missing.

“oh… oh fuck.” she said, grabbing her phone and immediately trying to call you. it went straight to unavailable. she started to send a few texts.

‘baby, baby, i’m so so sorry.’

‘please answer my calls.’

‘please call me.’

‘i’m so sorry, please forgive me. i didn’t mean it.’

she went straight to social media, trying to find you but noticing that you had blocked her on most of your accounts. she found herself starting to cry, all the regret building up in her chest.

her tears fell onto her phone as she searched for any way to contact you. she sat down on the bed you used to share, it still smelled like you. her head was in her hands, she was trying to figure out where you could have gone in hopes of going there and talking to you. but because she hadn’t been around you, she wouldn’t know which of your close friends or relatives would house you.

she had stopped her crying, making it her mission to find you today. she had gotten dressed and her muscle memory took over, swinging the fridge door open in hopes of finding some leftovers of one of your famous home-cooked meals that you would have tucked away. her tears started to fall again when she realised there was nothing there waiting for her.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

it had been a week since you left your apartment. billie found it to be an incredibly insufferable week.

she had gotten home that week in a pissy mood, chucking her keys into the table beside the door and dumping her bag on the floor.

she had noticed that the apartment had changed, everything was suddenly clean. this past week, she hadn’t gotten the chance to clean anything up or do any chores. she heard running water from the kitchen and practically sprinted over there.

she found you placing the last dish onto the drying rack.

“baby.” she said, a relieved sigh leaving her lips. “i’m so glad you’re okay.”

“i’m just here to pick up the rest of my stuff.” you said, sighing a less relieved sigh, it was more of a disappointed one. you had hoped to be gone before she returned.

“you don’t have to go, please. we can work this out.” she begged you. you wouldn’t even turn to look at her.

“we can’t. not with the way you’ve handled this. there’s nothing to work out.” you finally turned around to look at her. your eyes looked tired and your face drooped in sadness, she still thought you were incredibly beautiful.

“but i’m sorry… i’m just so sorry.” she stepped towards you but you walked past her into the bedroom you used to call yours.

“sorry’s just not going to cut it, billie.” you said, picking up a box of your things. “i don’t think you understand how much you’ve hurt me. the things you said? they really pushed me over the edge. i thought that maybe i was the terrible person. but i was wrong, you were treating me horribly.”

“i can change, i promise.” billie cried out, trying to stop you from leaving.

“please move, bils.” you asked her, your eyes going soft. the nickname made her weak to her knees, she loved when you called her that. she stepped aside, sniffling softly.

“please… give me the chance to change.” she walked after you.

“i believe you can change, billie. i know you can. i just don’t think i can stick around for it.” you sighed, opening the door with your free hand. “maybe the next person that you find yourself with will reap the benefits of your change.” you said, walking out the door and closing it behind you.

she fell to her knees as the door closed. from that moment onwards, she vowed to change for the better. but she wanted the person that reaped the benefits to be you.

and you only.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

a/n: part 2 with billie redemption arc incomingg!

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Project: Aeri

synopsis: you get paired with the campus’ mean girl Aeri Uchinaga to work on a semester long project together

cw: cursing, tension, alcohol, rich/mean girl aeri, angst (?) idk, it's barely suggestive near the end, barely proofread, college au! reader runs track and aeri is a cheerleader but it really doesn’t pertain to the plot too much! also I don't think i used any pronouns for the reader :D

word count: 6.1k

notes!! hi (: this was fun so fun to write!! I loveeee the dynamic between reader and aeri hehe

Lmk how you feel about this or if you'd just like to chat!

read part two here!!!

You found yourself with a decent amount of time, arriving at your lecture hall with a good 15 minutes to spare. When you got through the door, your eyes looked through the room, scanning for the perfect seat, preferably in the back.

A fair number of students had claimed their spots but thankfully, the seat you had set your sights on remained empty. With a soft plop, you settled into your seat, ready for your last first class ever! (finally)

You mindlessly scrolled through instagram before a girl walked past you in the aisle trying to get to a seat. A snobby “oops” escaped her lips as her designer leather purse missed your head by a hair. Her purse may have missed you but her excessive amount of perfume did not.

You slumped back in your seat, stifling your frustration just as the professor began setting up her laptop, fumbling with the projector. But all your irritation fizzled out the moment you caught sight of the girl again, now seated a few seats from you. A pretty familiar face.

You sighed, the earlier instance clicking in your head after recognizing who it was.

Aeri Uchinaga.

Of course.

The name itself was practically legendary around campus. Aeri or better known as Giselle to her inner circle—was sort of everyone’s campus celebrity as she was effortlessly popular and untouchably cool. She was the girl everyone wanted to befriend, date, or at least be seen with. Aeri was on the cheer squad and she was the one who had it all—beauty, charm, and an air of superiority that made your skin crawl. 

It’s not like you disliked her per se, but it was her superiority complex that irked the living shit out of you. It bothered you how much of a bitch she was.

The professor, blissfully unaware of your internal groaning, launched into a painfully slow breakdown of the syllabus. You tried to pay attention, but your mind drifted as she agonizingly detailed each project and the writing part of it. Luckily, no exams—just two parts of a project to do for the whole semester.  

How is this an hour and fifteen minutes you thought as you sighed, slumping back into your seat

“So, throughout my years of teaching I’ve done these partner projects. I have asked for feedback each year. A lot of my students expressed that the most difficult part of the semester project was initially finding a partner. I know you’re all adults but this is a great way to make friends you normally wouldn’t speak to! So, I’ve already randomly assigned you partners! When I call your name can you please raise your hand and find your partner” She beamed at her great idea

Honestly she did have a point, and it was less work/anxiety trying to find a partner 

She listed pairs after pairs until she said name making your ears perk up 

“Y/n..  L/n !” Her eyes scanned the room for you

You raised your hand from way back and did a small wave paired with a bright smile

“Oh! Hi- and your partner is... Aeri Uchinaga!” Her eyes scanned the room again looked for a raised hand 

Oh of course

She didn’t scan long as the girl that shuffled passed you earlier rose her hand with a fake smile

Despite Aeri’s complex, it wasn’t hard to see why people gravitated towards her. Her hair was in a perfect ponytail and you caught a glimpse of a smile that could disarm anyone. Her demeanor was effortlessly charming and her presence dominated each and any room she was in. 

She was a bit intimidating, you had to admit

And you? Well, you were a runner. Literally. Your life kinda revolved around those early morning track practices and late-night study sessions. The university’s track team didn’t exactly have the same hype as the football team, basketball team or the cheer squad that went with them. 

But you didn’t mind, you were perfectly content with not being in the spotlight and pretty happy with the (very) small fan group you had attracted throughout your four years.

You just didn’t crave attention the way Aeri seemed to

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. Out of all the people in your large lecture, it had to be her.

You tried to play it off, extending an olive branch to her through a kind smile–Aeri caught your eye again, her smile dropping the second the professor looked away. She didn’t seem any more thrilled about the arrangement than you were– but at least you tried to fake it! You could practically hear her thoughts: Great, stuck with you.

You slumped back into your seat, inwardly groaning.

What. A. Bitch. 

Class ended with the usual shuffle of students packing up their belongings, but you remained in your seat, feeling the weight of the project announcement settle heavily in your chest. The thought of working with the Aeri Uchinaga was... daunting, to say the least. For most people, partnering with her for an entire semester would be a dream come true, but you couldn’t care less about her social status or the attention she commanded. Her world of endless appearances and surface-level bullshit wasn’t one you ever wanted to step into.

As you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder, a voice stopped you.

"Hey."

You turned to see Aeri making her way down the aisle toward you, her steps purposeful, confidence radiating from her like always. “Let me have your number,” she said sharply. It wasn’t a request but more of a command.

You hesitated, offering a tentative way out. “I mean, I can just handle the project myself and put your name on it. You don’t seem too excited about working together.”

Aeri paused just a few feet away, her expression unreadable but her eyes flashed a flicker of consideration. “If this was any other class, I’d let you do it and wouldn’t think twice,” she replied, her voice clipped. “But my dad says I actually need to pass this one. So, no, I can’t coast through.”

The bluntness in her words caught you off guard. You weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or even more nervous. You sighed softly, “I see.”

Aeri extended her hand without a word, and you typed in your number. She glanced at it briefly, then slid her phone into her bag, her expression never really changing.

"Thanks," she said, the word sounding more like an obligation than gratitude. She muttered a quick  “I’ll text you.” And without even waiting for a response, she walked off right past you, already scrolling through her phone as if you or your interaction had barely registered.

You stood there for a moment, watching her retreating figure, your thoughts swirling. 

What a fucking bitch. 

The reality slowly settled in as you made your way out of the lecture hall...

You’d be spending more time with her than you ever imagined nor cared for.

A few days passed, and true to her word, you got a text from a number:

"It’s Aeri. Come over to my place at 6. We’ll start on the project then." With an address attached.

No pleasantries, no extra fluff. It was straightforward—just like her.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you showed up at her apartment, but it definitely wasn’t this. The building itself was pristine, the type of place you’d expect from someone who never had to worry about rent money. The lobby alone screamed "daddy’s money," with its sleek and modern decor.

When you reached Aeri’s door, she greeted you with a casual nod, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on, let’s get started.”

Her apartment was just as fancy as you imagined. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the room with natural light, and sleek designer furniture was perfectly arranged, like something out of a magazine. It wasn’t just nice—it was borderline intimidating. You couldn’t help but feel out of place in your university hoodie and sweatpants.

“Nice place,” you muttered as you took your shoes off by the door.

“Thanks,” Aeri replied nonchalantly, already making her way to a small table where her laptop was open and ready. “Let’s try to knock out the outline for the project tonight.”

The evening went smoother than you’d initially imagined it to go, and to your surprise, Aeri was focused and typing away at her laptop. She was of course still cold, only speaking to you about the project and there was plenty of chilling silence.

Three weeks had already passed since the project began and you’re already at your wits end with her. You have made every effort fucking possible to be nice to Aeri. Every time you went over to her apartment you tried your hardest to alleviate the awkward silence. You’d ask about her day, how the cheer team was doing, or what her plans for the weekend were. But most of the time, you were met with a huff, a roll of the eyes, or a dismissive answer that felt like she couldn’t care less(she couldn’t). Still, you pushed through and your kind heart gave Aeri the benefit of the doubt.

But today was different.

You’ve had a long day. After leaving Aeri’s apartment last night at 1AM, you were up again by 5AM to get ready for your track meet. You had planned to sleep on the bus ride to the meet, but you remembered a paper you still needed to finish for another class, so instead of sleeping, you spent the entire ride hunched over your laptop, working.

The meet itself was grueling. You competed in four different events, your body screaming for rest by the end of it. What stung the most was your individual race—the one you were supposed to win. You lost by 0.5 seconds. It was frustrating knowing how much time and effort you had poured into preparing for this moment, only to fall short by the tiniest margin.

By the time you got back to your apartment at 8PM, you were completely drained, both physically and emotionally. You had barely collapsed onto your couch when your phone buzzed.

It was Aeri.

Her message had a cold urgency that made your eye twitch. 

"You done yet? Come over already. You said you’d be done by 7:30. I have something to do at 11."

You thought about ignoring it. You thought about telling her off right then and there. But instead, you sighed, had a quick shower, changed into something more comfortable, and made your way to her place, frustration bubbling beneath your surface.

When you finally arrived at her apartment, exhausted and frustrated, Aeri barely looked up from her phone while giggling at something. 

“So, I did the third section of part two today. Look over it,  kay’? ” Not even a greeting nor eye-contact. At this point you were used to it but today it rubbed you the complete wrong way.

You swallowed it, you couldn’t help but try with her. “Yeah.. I can do that” You tried to excuse her behavior with “that’s just how she is”

For the first few minutes, you worked in silence, one-sided tension from your end was building in the air around you like a heavy cloud.

“So.. how was your day today?” You politely asked while making some grammatical adjustments to her part

“Good.”

“Oh good, did you do anything?” Trying to lead with a better question this time

“No.” 

“Well, I had a track meet today and Aeri!  it was so–” You excitedly began your anecdote with a chuckle, in hopes of sharing a story for conversation’s sake.

“Cool.” She interrupted, not even looking up from her laptop 

Your smile instantly dropped and you tried your best to keep everything in but after everything you had been through today along with these few weeks, something inside you finally snapped.

You shut your laptop harder than you meant to and looked up at her, your voice was tight with frustration. “Can you at least try to pretend to enjoy my company?”

Aeri glanced up, her eyes widening slightly surprised at your tone. “Excuse me?” her eyebrow raising in defense

“I’ve been nothing but nice to you for weeks,” you continued, your voice rising with each word. “I ask about your day, your stupid ass cheer team, and all I get is a roll of your eyes or some half-assed response. I’m really trying here, but it’s like fucking pulling teeth to have a simple ass conversation with you.”

Aeri blinked, clearly not expecting this 'out-of-character' outburst. “What? I– ”

You cut her off, your emotions finally spilling over “Please don’t ‘what’ me Aeri,” tears of frustration or exhaustion glistened in your eyes, “You think this is how I want to be spending MY Saturday night? You think this is how I want to spend each or every other day? I ALSO don’t want to be here. I’m so fucking tired Aeri but here I am because YOU wanted me here to work on this stupid fucking project even though I told you I had a meet today. Or did you just not care to remember?” You stood up, placing your laptop in your bag with a sharp motion. “You know what? We don’t even have to do this together. You can just text me if you have any questions, and I’ll do the same. We shouldn’t waste more of each other’s time”

Aeri’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. She just stared at you, stunned, as you turned on your heel and walked out of her apartment without looking back. This was the first time someone had spoken up against the ‘untouchable’  Aeri Uchinaga.

Aeri’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. She couldn’t quite place a reason as to why she felt like she wanted to cry. Maybe she enjoyed the idea of being around someone so kind and genuine as you.

For the next week and a half, you didn’t hear from Aeri. You worked on the project alone, silently making adjustments and adding content without bothering to ask for her input. She hadn’t reached out but she did notice your silent additions while you genuinely couldn’t care. You were just frustrated because you really thought she wasn’t how she seemed.

But then, after days of silence, your phone buzzed with a text from her:

“Can you come over Y/n?” 

“Please?”

You stared at the message for a long moment, debating whether to go or not. But something about the way she said “please” tugged at you. Reluctantly, you agreed.

“Omw”

When you arrived at her apartment, the energy between you was completely different from before. Aeri opened the door, her usual confidence replaced with something more.. Timid?  She stepped aside to let you in, her eyes, for once, weren’t glued to her phone and onto yours.

The silence between you was thick, uncomfortable. Normally, you would have made an effort to break it, but this time, you remained cold.

“Hey so, how was your day?” She asked

After a few moments, you spoke up

“I think we should just get this section done and over with” you said flatly, settling onto the table without even glancing in her direction.

Aeri hesitated, biting her lip as she sat beside you. For once, she didn’t have her usual snarky remarks or her dismissive scoffs. She just quietly opened her laptop and got to work. The silence between you felt suffocating. Every now and then, you’d catch Aeri glancing at you from the corner of her eye, her usual sharp confidence was completely absent. She seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting more than usual as she worked.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aeri broke the silence.

“Y/n...” she started, her voice soft and hesitant. You didn’t look up, keeping your focus on your laptop.

“I... I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper. 

That statement caught your attention. You slowly lifted your eyes from the screen, glancing at her. She wasn’t looking at you, her gaze fixed on her hands as she fidgeted with her perfectly done acrylic nails.

“I don’t think I’m used to people spending time with me just because they want to,” she continued, her voice quieter than you’d ever heard before. “Most people either want something from me or whatever. I didn’t know how to handle it when you actually tried to get to know me. And I guess I pushed you away because of that.”

She sighed, her fingers tracing the edge of the table as her words lingered in the air. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I just... didn’t know what to do with someone who cared.”

You stared at her for a moment, her words sinking in. Part of you had expected her to never acknowledge the way she’d been treating you, but now that she had, you couldn’t help but soften. Her vulnerability felt real, and it was clear she wasn’t used to letting people see this side of her.

A small, shy smile crept onto your face as you leaned back slightly. “Did you miss my attention or something?” you teased lightly, hoping to ease the tension.

Aeri finally looked up, rolling her eyes playfully as they met yours. “You know, I actually did, you idiot,” she quipped back, a small smirk tugging at her lips. But as she continued, her voice grew softer, more serious. “I honestly didn’t think I would... or that I would care, but when you stopped trying…” She paused, her tone becoming more vulnerable. “I noticed.. or that I realized I actually missed you... missed having someone who wanted to be around me as much as I wanted to be around them.”

Her words settled between you, and in that moment, you realized something. The cold, distant facade Aeri had been putting up wasn’t about you at all—it was about her. She had been pushing you away because that’s what she was used to. That’s how she protected herself from getting hurt.

“You had some way of showing that” You let out a small chuckle with a soft sigh. The anger you’d been holding onto for the past week and a half slowly melting away. “You could’ve just said that earlier ya know?” you replied gently, your voice free of the coldness it had held before.

She offered you a small but genuine, almost shy smile, and for the first time, it felt like the walls between you were starting to come down. 

“I’m sorry too, Aeri,” you added, offering her your goofy smile. The air felt lighter now, and for the first time in weeks, you both seemed to be on the same page.

She really did have a smile that could disarm anyone. 

Another three weeks had passed, and after that night, you found yourself spending more and more time with Aeri. At first, it was just to work on the project, but as the days went by, things slowly began to shift. You learned to navigate her moods, her sarcasm, and even her occasional backhanded compliments. To your surprise, Aeri started to let go of her ‘mean-girl’ persona.

She no longer seemed as guarded with you, and the more time you spent together, the more she let you see sides of her that weren’t wrapped up in the image of being the perfect cheerleader or the richest girl on campus.

It wasn’t until one evening that everything truly changed.

You were back at her apartment for what was supposed to be one of your final work sessions before the project deadline. As usual (now), Aeri was focused for most of the evening yet still actively conversing, but as the hours ticked by, you noticed her energy faltering.

“Ahh~ fuck! We’ve been at this for way too long,” she finally said, closing her laptop with a sigh. 

“Let’s take a break.”

You leaned back in your chair, “Thank god you said that,”  stretching your arms above your head. ”I’m starting to lose it too”

Aeri stood and walked to her kitchen, rummaging through her fridge before pulling out a couple of drinks. “Wine or White Claws?” she asked, holding them up with a smirk. “I thinkkk~ we deserve a little something for surviving this long.”

You hesitated, glancing between the two options. “Uhh~ wines too classy for the occasion,” you said with a laugh, completely taken aback at her sudden behavior

“White Claw it is,” she said, tossing one to you before cracking open her own. She plopped down beside you with a smirk. “To surviving this stupid project,” she said, raising her can in a mock toast.

“To surviving, Ms. Uchinaga,” you echoed, tapping your drink against hers.

You took a sip, the cold fizz of the seltzer hitting your tongue, but your face instinctively scrunched up at the taste.

Aeri noticed and burst into laughter. “Not a fan, Y/n?”

“It’s free, so I can’t really complain,” you replied with a grin. “But if I’m being honest, I prefer beer.”

“Ew! Beer? Really?” she cringed playfully, shaking her head. “It’s like carbonated piss!”

“Oh, so you know what piss tastes like? Weirdo,” you teased without missing a beat. 

Aeri's mouth dropped open in mock offense, and she gave you a playful shove. “Shut the fuck up you’re soo annoying!” 

You both laughed, the tension that had lingered for so long between the two of you seemed to dissipate, replaced by something softer.

You saw a side of Aeri that you hadn’t seen before—one that wasn’t wearing her usual cold mask. For once, she was real. Laughing about stupid things, opening up about her dad, venting about her struggles with balancing school and her social life.

Somewhere throughout the conversation, Aeri had absentmindedly turned on a random show in the background, though neither of you paid much attention to it. The drinks kept flowing, and you two lost count after a while, but it didn’t matter. You both found yourselves laughing at god knows what, the sound filling the room. But when the laughter finally died down, the air between you shifted again—heavier with something unsaid yet undeniably present.

Your eyes met hers, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The noise from the TV faded into the background as the silence between you, heavy with something mutually unspoken.

Aeri smiled softly, her guard lowered even more this time. “You’re not as bad as I thought, ya know?”

You laughed nervously, “You’re also not exactly what I expected either, Ms. Uchinaga.”

“Well, who is Ms. Uchinaga to you, hmm~?” she asked, lazily sipping her drink.

You paused, taken aback from the heavy question.

“Well, at first, Ms. Uchinaga was a bit... stuck up and... kind of a bitch,” you teased with a chuckle. But then your tone softened as you continued, “But now, I see someone who's actually really hard-working and driven. She’s not cold—she’s just protective of herself. She’s witty, smart, and honestly? One of the greatest people I've met. I’m really lucky I get the pleasure of knowing her.”

You shrugged, finishing your drink while reaching for another, and Aeri smiled, something soft yet needy flickered in her eyes.

She met your eyes and the moment lingered—just the two of you, sitting in her ridiculously nice apartment, sharing drinks and paired with a conversation that was so.. intimate.

Your held eye contact had so much unspoken tension. Her eyes were basically longing for you.  

As much as you wanted to kiss her,  something held you back. 

Maybe it was the fear of misreading the situation? Or maybe you were both afraid to cross that boundary. 

So, as much as you cherished the soft, tender moment, you let it pass, pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind as you broke eye contact to take a big gulp of your freshly opened drink. 

You paused, glancing at your half-full can before turning your gaze back to Aeri. Her smile lingered as she lazily sipped her drink. 

You felt your heart racing as you decided to push the moment just a bit further. “Well... who is Y/n to you?” you asked, your voice soft but direct. “I just shared who you are to me, Uchinaga”

Aeri blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. Her drink froze halfway to her lips, and she lowered it slowly, her eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words.

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her expression was contemplative. She placed her drink in her lap and leaned back slightly, her gaze dropping as she fidgeted with the nails again. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—more like she was deciding how honest she wanted to be.

“Y/n...is” Aeri started, her voice softer than before. “Different.” She glanced up, meeting your eyes, and you could see the hesitation in hers. “Kind. Not like most people I know. You pushed yourself into my life, and you still... stuck around, even when I wasn’t the easiest person to be around.”

She let out a quiet laugh, more at herself than anything. “Honestly, I didn’t get it at first. Like.. Why you kept trying with me? But now... I think I do.” her voice hinted at  knowing something. 

Her fingers traced the edge of her can, her voice quiet but steady. “And you’re patient. And I’m not used to that. You’ve seen sides of me that I don’t let most people see, and I think... I’ve been scared of that.”

You swallowed, her words hanging in the air. “Scared?”

“Yeah... I think so,” she admitted, her voice almost a whisper. “Like I said before, I’m not really used to people sticking around just to get to know me. They’ve always stuck around to use me for some type of gain. But you... you’ve just been here. And I think at first, I was afraid that you’re gonna turn out like everyone else but now I’m scared because I don’t feel the need to push you away”

A confession?

The weight of her words pressed down on you, the vulnerability in her tone echoing in the room. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say, the truth of what she’d just admitted settling between you both. You could feel the walls between you crumbling, and this time, it wasn’t just a fleeting moment—it was real, raw.

You smiled gently, leaning forward just a little. “I’m glad you’re not pushing me away,” you said softly, placing a reassuring hand on her own fidgeting one, your voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Better not.” Aeri’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, her eyes softening.

Both of your eyes flickered to each other's lips, though the distance between them never closed.

After a few days of wrapping up the project, your mind kept drifting back to that night. The intimate moment between you and Aeri replayed in your thoughts, and the regret of not kissing her gnawed at you. You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever reach out again, if she even wanted to, or maybe she was waiting for you to reach out? 

But then, as if she had been reading your racing mind, there she was. Full of surprises, like always.

A text from Aeri popped up on your phone unexpectedly

“Y/n! Come to this party tonight (:”

You stared at the message for a moment, a smile creeping onto your face like a fool while your fingers hovered over the screen as you debated your response.

"Where? And why? You miss me too much, Uchinaga? Lol," you typed back, trying to play it cool, though your heart raced as you hit send.

Her reply came almost immediately.

“Sig Chi House! Starts at 9. And duh, I wanna see you there ;)”

Your heart fluttered at the last part, the winky face sending a warm buzz through your chest. You reread the message, biting back a grin, unable to shake the excitement that suddenly pulsed through you.

Aeri Uchinaga what are you doing to me 

Sig Chi was exactly how you remembered it—loud music, a packed crowd, and the heavy smell of liquor and cheap cologne wafting through the air. It didn’t take long to remember why you stopped coming.

As you weaved through the party, you managed to snag a beer off a random table (which you quickly chugged and put back on the table) before spotting her in the kitchen. She was surrounded by a small group of her cheerleader friends that you recognized and one guy you didn’t, all laughing and drinking.

Despite her simple crop top and jeans, she stood out effortlessly. Her hair fell in perfect waves down her back, like a dark waterfall catching the party lights, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.

Then her eyes landed on you, and for a split second, something flickered in her expression. She quickly excused herself from the group, making her way over to you with two drinks in hand—a solo cup in one and a beer in the other.

"You made it!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug, her scent a mix of straight vodka and the sweet perfume you remembered from the first day of class. Her smile was wide and genuine. "I wasn’t sure you’d come, but I saved you a beer."

“Wow, thanks, Aeri,” you said, doing your best to keep your nerves in check as you realized she remembered your favorite drink. “Couldn’t make you suffer without me for too long, right?” you added with a playful smirk.

Aeri laughed, nudging you lightly. "Oh, shut up!” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “But I’m glad you came."

She then began going off about something that looked important, but with the noise of the party and the way her lips moved a mile a second, you couldn’t quite catch it. Honestly, you probably just looked like a lovesick puppy, completely entranced by her without even processing a word. Just perfectly content being around her.

“Are you even listening to me?” She tried to say over the music, her eyebrows furrowed

“What are you even saying?” you asked, leaning down to hear her better, the height difference making it harder.

Aeri leaned in closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder close to your neck. Her breath was warm against your ear, and the contact sent a shiver down your spine. “Let’s go outside, I can’t hear a fucking thing in here!” she laughed, her voice low. Before you could respond, she wrapped her arm around yours, leading you through the crowded house and out the back door. 

The noise of the party faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in the cool night air. For a moment, it felt like the party was miles away, just the two of you caught in an orbit only you could understand.

“Ah~” Aeri sighed, stretching an arm above her head. “This is sooo much better.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” you sighed, raising your drink slightly.

She leaned in a bit, a playful smile on her face, her voice slightly slurred. “So... you’re not much of a party person, huh?”

You chuckled. “What gave me away?”

Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she laughed softly. “You should’ve seen the look on your face when I saw you inside. You looked so lost,” she teased, then giggled. “It was cute.”

You opened your mouth to say something but something or someone interrupted, causing you both to turn your heads 

The porch door swung open, and the guy you had noticed earlier stepped out. He carried himself with the arrogance of someone used to getting what he wanted, his greasy gaze glued to Aeri like she was the prize of the night.

“Giselle, I didn’t see you run off earlier,” he said, sliding in too close, completely oblivious to your presence.

You saw how Aeri stiffened slightly but forced a smile, clearly not interested in making a scene. “Hi Mark,” she scoffed, her voice cool, though the venom was unmistakable.

Mark leaned in even closer, his arm brushing against Aeri’s, his smirk making your blood boil. You had no right to feel this possessive, but something surged within you at the sight of him invading her space.

“You wanna.. come back to my place after?” His words were extremely slurred, his eyes quickly shot to you  “You’re hot too, you can come if you want,” he added with a smug grin, as if he was doing you both a favor by suggesting it.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, reaching out to gently pull Aeri back toward you. She glanced at you, a flicker of surprise in her eyes before you gave her a look she hadn’t seen from you before. Jealousy and desire.

Aeri raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your boldness. Mark noticed, his cocky smirk faltering.

“She’s already got plans to come to mine, so you can just fuck off” you said, keeping your voice steady even though your heart was pounding.

Aeri, catching onto your energy, stepped closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. She turned to Mark, her tone ice-cold. “I don’t even know why you would ever think to ask me that?” she asked, emphasizing the absurdity of his request, her head tilting slightly as if she couldn’t believe the audacity.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by Aeri’s cold tone. “Wow chill.. No need to be such a stuck-up bitch,” he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he stumbled back. His gaze flicked to you, bitterness in his eyes. “Fuck you too”

You didn’t realize Aeri was holding onto you until you started to step toward Mark. As soon as he was gone, Aeri turned to you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, look at you,” she teased, her voice low. “Didn’t know we had plans tonight.”

“Oh whatever, ” You tried to play it cool, but your heart was still racing from the surge of possessiveness you hadn’t expected. “I just said that because I didn’t like how close he was getting. He seemed like a total douchebag too.” You huffed

Aeri chuckled, stepping in even closer, her breath warm against your neck. “Were you jealous or something n/n?”

Your cheeks burned. “Well- no! I…He was just being an asshole.”

She grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Uh-huh~ Well, for the record, I liked it.” Her voice dropped, more serious now, as her hand brushed against yours. “You were kinda hot.”

“Oh, shut up.” You tried your best to shrug her off, but the burning red tips of your ears gave you away.

Aeri tilted her head, her teasing grin widening. “Now, I’m curious,” she said. “Was that all it was? Or do you have something you wanna tell me?”

You blinked, you were soooo caught but still feigned innocence. “What! No..”

“You pulling me away from that guy back there,” she said, crossing her arms as she leaned back. “You really did look like you were about to tackle him ya know? Was it really just because he was an asshole?” she giggled, she was so messing with you right now

You felt your face heat up. “It wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—”

“You’re cute” She laughed, her amusement lighting up the darkness of the night. "Relax, I’m jus–” 

You had to say something, even if it made you feel like a fool. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

“Okay fine Aeri it’s because I like you and I have for a while now so of course I didn’t like seeing anyone flirt with you or let alone talk like that to yo–” You said it so quickly, you barely breathed between the words. But even in her tipsy state, Aeri understood you perfectly

Before you could finish, Aeri stepped forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. Her lips crashed against yours, fierce and sudden, cutting off your words. The kiss wasn’t hesitant—it was full of the tension that had been building between you for weeks.

When she pulled back, she let out a soft, teasing breath. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“What?” you breathlessly asked, your eye wide

“I like you too, stupid,” she whispered, her lips brushing yours as she spoke. “For a while now too”

“Wait, what?” You blinked, trying to process what just happened

“Really?” You managed to get out

“Yes! You dumbass,”  she smirked, her voice a low murmur. “Now shut the fuck up and kiss me again before I change my mind.”

Who were you to deny Aeri Uchinaga?

Maybe now she really did have plans to come over tonight.

[itneverendshere]

addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!

i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌🫢 thank you for the request 🩵🫂

i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.

It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.

The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.

But you know that sound. That’s Rafe.

You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.

"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.

“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.

“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.

God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.

His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.

But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.

“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”

You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.

It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.

“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.

“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you lel yourself really look at him.

All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?

He’s a goddamn masterpiece.

“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.

You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.

“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”

You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.

The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse. 

“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.

You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.

“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.

“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.

“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.

Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard. 

“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.

“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”

“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me.” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”

He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”

“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”

He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.

He’s gonna get you good.

Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face. “So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.

Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.

“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.

More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does. 

He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin.

Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your panties, you are already trembling. “Please,” you whimper, rocking your hips against his hand.

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick heat and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on. You gasp, hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow and close to your clit.

Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are.“Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”

You’re past patience.

You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it. “Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”

He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, like he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.

He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your slick folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance, warm and insistent. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a slow, deliberate stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls. It’s intimate, almost unbearable in how good it feels, the way he’s taking his time, drawing it out like he’s savoring every second. You tighten around him, wet and hot, and he groans softly as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open, is filthy and intoxicating.

“Like that, baby?” His voice is thick with lust, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.

You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—embarrassingly quick, but it’s been a while. 

His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

“Oh God—please,” you gasp, your fingers clutching at his arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.

His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots. Your breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as your body answers to his. You can feel the heat coiling tight in your belly, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”

You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath. 

He leans in, lips caressing your ear, “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”

His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement.

You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it. 

“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”

His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up. You cry out, a broken sound, your hips bucking uncontrollably as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder. He finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, and when he pulls them out, you feel the emptiness like a loss. You’re still catching your breath, body buzzing from the orgasm he just wrung out of you, but you notice the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.

He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine. 

"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”

You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again. He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”

You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”

"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”

You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways. 

As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.

His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”

You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter. 

You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.

“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”

Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.

You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses to his skin, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.

“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.

You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.

You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.

His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.

You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, like he wants to feel every second of it.

“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."

His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”

His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.

Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.

“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”

He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.

“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”

His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.

And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.

The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy. 

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”

You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.

"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.

You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.

His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium. 

He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him. "Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line. 

He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”

You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.

The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.

“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure. The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”

You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. 

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”

And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.

He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”

You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release

His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.

His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.

You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.

You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk. 

“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”

You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.

“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”

You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.

“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”

He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.

“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”

His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.

“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”

He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”

He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”

“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”

You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You have no idea what you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.

You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does. 

“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.

Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”

The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”

He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”

He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.

But you peck him, simple and sweet.

“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”

The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.

As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.

“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.

You choke on your cereal like an idiot.

“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.

Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.

She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”

You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”

Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”

“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”

You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”

She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”

“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”

“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.

For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.

[cookielixie]

Hiii, Jeongin’s calling you clingy was too good like chills and now I’m at a dilemma - like I want to ask prompt 2 for Chan, Minho and Jisung BUT like part 2 calling you clingy sounds really good too, DECISIONS 😫

Okay, may I ask for Chan, Minho and Jisung for prompt 2? (If 3 members is too many then you can pick one of them) 💙💙💙

𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲

pairing: chan x reader, minho x reader, changbin x reader, hyunjin x reader, jisung x reader, felix x reader, seungmin x reader (jeongin is in a separate post)

genre: angst, fluff

A/N: I'm so sorry to keep you guys waiting, i had a lil mental breakdown so I haven't been able to write much these weeks :( i'm so happy you liked jeongin's, i got the same request for all the other members so here is the rest hehe! i hope it is as good as the last one - enjoy!

masterlist

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍:

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎:

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍:

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍:

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆:

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗:

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍:

taglist: @angelzforu @tinyelfperson @ujimoo @hey-i-really-miss-you @justastraymoa @gurneetsadhra23 @hyune-ssne @velvetmoonlght @luminouskalopsia @fackeraccount @wildtokay @katchowbbie

[buck-star]

A love least expected | B.B

Bucky thought he found the love of his life in Steve, but little did he know that Steve going back in time would give him the opportunity to fall in love with someone who really loves Bucky.

Pairing: BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Fem!Reader, past Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Boyfriend!Steve Rogers

Wordcount: 6.184 Words

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, Bucky being insecure, Steve being mean, taking less care of themselves (Bucky), best friends to lovers, bit of idiots in love/mutual pinning, reader reads letter Bucky wrote to Steve (he doesn’t mind), more fluff, so much fluff, love confession

Authors Note: Thank you to my loveliest best friend @thevillainswhore for helping me find the pictures, a title and for always listening to all the ideas I throw at you hehe. I love you so much!❤️❤️ Dividers made by me.

Events: Trick or treat | Bucky Barnes, trick and treat, soulmates, best friends to lovers | hosted by me | Stevie BB 200 Follower Writing Challenge | Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, soulmate AU/ bit of idiots in love/mutual pinning, “Are you fucking kidding me?” | @steviebbboi | Writing Challenge | Soulmates AU, 🥐 ༄ؘ “ I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.” | @elixirfromthestars

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

The cold wind was blowing harshly, cutting into his skin. But the coldness outside was nothing compared to the one he felt inside him. His lips turned into a thin line, and the usual light blue eyes are now filled with pain and sorrow. His heart was broken, shattered in the tiniest pieces, and not even a sorry couldn’t fix what broke just a few minutes earlier.

The brown-haired man watched his boyfriend — ex-boyfriend — walking closer to the others. Time tracking, Bucky knew when he just heard that Steve would bring back the stones that he wouldn’t come back as the man he used to be.

The hug was too long, the gazes too intense, too hurtful. And Bucky knew it’s the last time he would hold his boyfriend — the next time he will hold him, it will only be his best friend. He couldn’t blame Steve; he didn’t want to. His heart was broken, but his feelings were still as strong as they used to be — as they always were, in the forties already.

While Bucky couldn’t imagine moving on without the man he thought would be the love of his life, he watched Steve move on without him. All the years, all what they went through meant not enough for Steve to be happy with him.

And once again, his mind ran wild. Was it Bucky who gave Steve a reason to move on? Maybe it was the winter soldier that made him less lovely for Steve. Maybe it was everything he did all those years. But why… why was Steve looking for him? He went to war for him and would even have walked to Austria for him. And now there was a man walking to the others; he did look like his Stevie, but he was so different.

Bucky wanted to call the other man’s name; he wanted to run after him and hold him. A few silent tears were rolling down his cheeks, his body shaking slightly, and he tried to hold back his sobs. With every step Steve was taking away from him, he felt his heart ripped out of his chest. There was nothing left.

The words Steve said earlier were still echoing through Bucky’s mind. ‘Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back.’ Until he gets back, but the way Bucky’s stomach dropped when he looked into the usual lovely blue eyes of his boyfriend, he could tell that things would be different when Steve would be back.

‘I’m gonna miss you, buddy.’ Bucky had to reply. He knew when Steve was lying, when Steve had something planned without saying it out loud. And this was one of these moments, where the slightly sad expression on the other man’s face gave away the truth. His lips curled up so softly that Bucky would have missed it; wouldn’t he have to find a little bit of hope for them in his boyfriend’s expression.

‘It’s gonna be okay, Buck.’ It was then and there the moment Bucky was sure that Steve wasn’t going to come back as the man he was going to leave. The man Bucky used to love will be back in the forties, being lost somewhere there; maybe he found true love while Bucky was in the war. Or maybe… maybe he would just go back to Buck and give them both a life they deserved without the pain the army and hydra caused.

But deep down Bucky knew the truth; he felt that Steve would change. Just the hope and the love made him believe that his boyfriend could come back to him and could be with him.

The further Steve walked away, the colder it got inside and around Bucky. He was shivering. The strong arms of the other man were still around him, at least the feeling of them. But with every inch of distance between both of the men, Bucky felt the warmth of the touch disappear, and he regretted even letting go of his boyfriend. But he had to; he had to let him go so at least Steve could be happy and live the life he wanted while he left Bucky with no more faith in love.

You were standing a bit away from them, watching your best friend literally break while he watched Steve. Your heart was aching, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and give him the comfort he needed, but you also didn’t want to embarrass him because he was crying and shaking from the pain he felt.

So, you decided to walk over to him and try to give him as much comfort as possible without jumping around his neck with a blanket to wrap him in it and keep him protected and warm.

“Hey, Buck,” you greeted him with a soft smile. His eyes were stuck on the other man, watching every muscle moving and the way his hips swung. You followed his eyes, your smile turning sad, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart shattering.

It’s not that you were in love with Steve; of course he was a good friend. But you know for Bucky he meant the world, that Bucky thought he found the love of and for his life in Steve. Still, he has to watch the person he used to love more than everything, leaving for a life Bucky couldn’t give to him.

You noticed the tears rolling down Bucky’s cheeks; his breath got heavier, and you could almost feel the way your best friend broke from the inside. The deep blue eyes were suddenly so empty; the smile that was always across his face was replaced by a thin line of his lips. The sweet scrunch of his nose that always got everyone’s attention was now replaced by the tears that were quietly falling down his cheeks.

“W-why…?” Bucky asked, his voice only a hoarse whimper. The self-doubts were crashing down on him like the heaviest building ever. Maybe he wasn’t enough; of course he wasn’t. Would he be ever enough for Steve, then he wouldn’t have decided to travel back to have a life with a woman — without Bucky. “Why doesn’t he love me?”

You swallowed thickly; there was no simple answer for that. You didn’t even know if Steve loved Bucky or not. With a soft sigh, you looked at Steve, then at Bucky, and took another step closer to him. “Sometimes… Sometimes love isn’t enough for someone to stay. But that’s not your fault; some people just can’t… they can’t appreciate what they get from another person. They think they can ‘do better’ even though they have everything they need. Sometimes it takes distance for one to notice that he was in the wrong.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up slightly. His eyes still on Steve as he placed the helmet on his head and stepped into the machine for time travel. “So, maybe he will come back to me… to us… to that here as the one he is now?”

The hope in Bucky's voice caused a cold shiver running down your spine. You really hoped for him that Steve would come back as the one he was. That he only needed to see that he loved Bucky and that he found everything in the man he could possibly find in someone.

But deep down, you actually knew that it’s not true. Steve wouldn’t be the one he used to be. But you weren’t sure; you didn’t want to break Bucky’s heart further, but lying and letting him think that Steve would be his old self? You don’t want to do it either.

“I-I don’t know,” you mumbled and watched Steve. He disappeared. Next to you, you noticed something — or someone — was falling down to the ground. Your eyes widened, and your heart shattered as the scream left his parted lips.

Bucky kneeled next to you on the dirty, cold floor, his eyes red and watery while he pants. It was his scream; it was his pain. He had to let go the moment the love of his life disappeared to live another life. He stared down; his hands were grasping the dirt under his fingers, and tears were falling down his cheeks.

“No…no…no…no,” he panted, repeating the words over and over again. His breath was heavy, and his eyes were unfocused. And then he started to shake his head; his eyes were wandering from the ground up to where Steve was standing and back to the ground. “Please… come back. St-Steve, please.”

You watched Bucky for a moment, considering whether to kneel down or give him a moment for himself. Your eyes were wandering over his shaking form, and when he started to repeat Steve’s name and begged him to come back, you got down on your knees as well.

“Bucky? I know it hurts, but Steve isn’t coming back,” you mumbled. You’re not sure what to say, but trying to hide the truth wouldn’t help Bucky either. “Can you look at me?”

Bucky swallowed, turning his face toward you. His eyes were red and puffy, his lips formed into a pout, and he stared at you with the most hurt expression you have ever seen on his face. He nodded, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine,” you said in a soft voice. You brought your hand to his soft, brown locks. Bucky relaxed slightly, the pain still visible, but at least he had someone who was there for him. You curled his hair around your fingers, stroking his neck softly. “Everything is going to be fine; you’re not alone. I know it feels like that; it feels like Steve took everything with him, but he didn’t. We’re still here for you, and you’re loved.”

Bucky nodded, leaning his head against your shoulder. His arms automatically wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer toward him. The brown-haired man’s fingers were digging into your skin, holding onto you to make sure you’re staying as close as possible to him.

“You stay?”

“I will stay. You’re my best friend; I love you, and I will give you all the hugs and cuddles you need, Buck.”

The days and the weeks felt so much longer and so empty without Steve. Bucky didn’t sleep much at all; he refused to eat and cared about anything but his letters. Since Steve left, he wrote a letter every day, putting all his feelings, all his pain, and all his love into them. Even though he refused to go out, he didn’t mind when you came over and gave him some company.

You sighed when you opened the door to Bucky’s apartment. The air was thick and stinging; you closed the door and walked further into the apartment. You got used to Bucky’s behavior, his less care for everything, but you wished you could help him.

“Buck? I brought some food,” you said as you looked through the door of his living room. His eyes were shooting up at you. He nodded with a slightly sad smile and held out his hands, curious what you got for him. “How are you feeling today?”

He shrugged, taking the bag and looking into it. “‘M not sure. Empty… cold?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, but he smiled softly when he noticed something you got for him. He took it and held it out of the bag, showing it to you. “I love these, my favorite chocolate.”

You watched him for a while before you walked through the room to open the windows and let some fresh air in. Even though Bucky tried to convince you to not clean, you always did it when you were there. Most of the time he even helped you, finding it easier to clean when he didn’t have to do it all by himself.

“When did you shower last time?” Bucky looked up, his face heating up as he turned his face away again. You sighed, knowing it was at least a week ago that he had a shower. “How about you get one yet?”

Bucky shook his head; fear was visible in his blue orbs. You furrowed, walking closer to him. He didn’t look at you, too ashamed to do so. Bucky’s breath hitched as you kneeled down in front of him and rested your arms on his thick thighs.

“Why not?” Your voice was sweet as honey. You knew it was the best way to talk to Bucky without making him more ashamed or making him feel worse.

“Becuase…” Bucky swallowed thickly. “What if I come back here and you’re gone?”

Your eyes widened, and your heart was beating faster. After Steve left, Bucky got more and more separation anxiety, but you didn’t know it would be that bad. That it would cause him to refuse letting you out of your view when you’re there — which you are around every day or at least every other day.

“I’m not going anywhere else,” you mumbled, drawing small circles on his thick. Bucky nodded, his eyes watering as he looked at you. His big hands moved almost automatically to yours; he placed them on top of yours and held them tight.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Bucky nodded at your assurance. He still refused to let go of your hands and move an inch, but he knew he had to take a shower at least. He didn’t even know why he still felt so low. Steve hurt him; he broke him, but he found something that’s worth living again. But whatever he tried, the thought of losing it made him curl into a little ball and feel the depression coming over him again.

“But… you stay here?” Bucky asked once again. You nodded, smiling at him before getting up to sit down next to him and giving him the room to get up. He sighed, his hands shaking, but he finally moved and got up to walk to the bathroom.

His eyes were darting between you and the bathroom, making sure you were still sitting on the couch. Your heart broke slightly about the insecure and broken man who used to be so happy and proud of himself. Someone who was never insecure about himself.

When he finally got into the shower, you started to clean his apartment. Starting with the trash that was placed all over the floor and surfaces. You then changed the sheets on his bed and opened the windows there as well until you reached the big pile of dirty clothes.

With a chuckle, you picked it up and ordered it to put it into the washing machine. You noticed a bunch of letters between some other stuff on the table; you listened to the sound of the running shower before taking them.

It wasn’t your best move, you know that, but you were curious who he was writing a letter — or a bunch of letters. You opened the first one; the first one made your breath hitch.

For Steve.

Your eyes widened, then they moved to the date on it; it was written one day after Steve left. You couldn’t stop the curiosity from boiling over and made you continue reading what Bucky wrote.

I miss you. I miss you more than I thought one could miss someone else. Are you coming back? Please don’t go away; don’t leave me.

You noticed the few patches of tears in the paper; your heart was clenching while you continued to read further through the letter. Bucky told Steve everything about the day he left — that he broke down, that you comforted him, that he couldn’t sleep, and that everything felt so hard. Bucky’s heart was broken, and he put it down in the form of words; even though Steve isn’t reading it, he could at least get it out of him.

Don’t leave me alone in this new world. It’s more than I can handle; it’s so new, so different from the forties. Please don’t leave me alone in this new and modern world.

Your eyes watered at the desperation Bucky probably feels every day. Even though you knew that things changed since the forties, you hoped that it wouldn’t feel that bad for Bucky. Reading those words made your heart clench in your chest, causing you to shiver.

I love you.

Bucky.

Putting the letter away, you took another one, curious what Bucky wrote later. It wasn’t just a letter from a day later; it was one around a month later. You opened it and stared at the first words Bucky wrote.

Hi Steve,

it still feels different without you. I still feel that something about me is missing. It hurts to think about you, and sometimes I still even hear your voice.

You stared at the words; it was different. Bucky wasn’t as desperate as he was before anymore. It still pained you to know that Bucky was suffering so much because of the man he thought he would love. But on the other side, you knew that Bucky felt better now, at least a bit.

I feel less empty; it’s less cold. But I am still mad at you. I hope you’re being happy, but it makes me insane to know that I couldn’t be the one who makes you happy.

I’m mad that you left me alone in the modern world by myself. That you went back in time, that you looked like you didn’t care about me.

Your eyes were roaming over Bucky’s words. His thoughts were all written down on a piece of paper — his anger, his hurt, but also that he loved Steve. You continued to read this letter before you took another one, the one he wrote last night.

You listened closely, the shower still running, so you inhaled deeply once more and opened that letter as well.

Curiosity was stuck to every fiber in your body; you weren’t sure if you should read it. You shouldn’t have started to read them at all because they were private. But on the other side, it was also important to see how Bucky was doing; those letters said so much more than he did. He didn’t like talking too much about his feelings, especially not about Steve. So you were letting your eyes wander over the words of the letter.

I found that girl; she’s beautiful and sweet. I never thought I could look at someone and feel that way ever again, but she made me see the world in a positive way. Her eyes shine like the sun, and her laugh is the most beautiful I have ever heard. She's the light in my nights and the one I can hold onto if I feel like I fall.

Your eyes widened as you read the words Bucky wrote down. There weren’t many people who were around Bucky; it was actually mostly Sam and you. So the only person he could mean was you, and a shiver ran down your spine when your stomach flipped.

Bucky may have fallen in love with you. It was a while back since Steve left him, and you knew about the way Bucky changed that he slowly got over Steve. Even though he was still sad about what Steve did, and even though Bucky didn’t get himself to take care, he also changed slightly into a bit more of a happy self.

I still don’t get my ass up; I don’t find motivation to clean and take care of things or even me. Except she’s around, then she helps me. You know her; she was the only person who helped me get up and who stood by my side when you left me in this modern world to live another life. And she never — not once — left my side since that. She is my strength; she is my everything.

You put the letter back on the table when you heard the door of the bathroom opening. Bucky walked with a towel around his waist into the living room; his expression was soft, and a soft smile played around his lips. You had seen him like that — without a shirt and damp hair — a few times before, but this time it made your knees buckle, and you were glad that you were still sitting on the couch.

Bucky walked closer to you, looking around as he noticed that you really cleaned for him. Then his eyes landed on the letters that were still on the table; one of them was open, and he gasped softly.

“Y-you know you don’t have to clean…” He said, his eyes still focused on the letter. Emotions overcame him: fear, happiness, panic, and love. “Did you read them?”

Bucky smiled softly as he saw your reaction. He knew exactly that you read them, and he even liked it. So he didn’t have to hide his feelings anymore, even though he was unsure what you feel, if you would feel the same or were going to be mad about it.

You nodded, watching him walk closer. Bucky took a short and a pair of boxers from the counter, pulling them on before he focused his attention back on you. His heart was racing, and his breath sped up slightly the longer he waited for an answer from you.

“A-Are you m-mad? I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it,” he breathed out, sitting down next to you on the couch. One of his legs underneath the other while he watched you intensely. “I… we can just ignore it… I-I just… I know you could think I just fell in love because Steve left. But I guess I just needed to realize that Steve and I never worked the way I tried to see.”

Bucky often told you about his relationship with Steve. He loved the other man, but Steve was still stuck in the past. And even though he tried to hide it, Bucky always knew it. The brown-haired man loved Steve a whole lot, but the moment the other was turned into a big, muscular man — Bucky knew that Steve wouldn’t be as much in love with him any longer. He finally got the attention he always hoped to get; he finally didn’t have to feel insecure anymore. As much as Bucky tried, he could never help Steve with his insecurities as much as the serum then did.

“I know,” you mumbled, resting your hand on Bucky's thigh. You smiled softly at him, running your fingers over his knee. “I’ve seen the way you changed after Steve left. I still see it and also how you act around me. And I’m glad I read those letters, and I’m also glad that you fell in love with me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and he wasn’t sure if he heard right or if that was just the most amazing dream ever. His blue eyes were staring into yours, holding your gaze as he waited for you to laugh and tell him that you just made a joke. But the moment didn’t come; instead, you inch closer to him and had the most adorable smile on your face.

“Do you need me to spell it for you?” You chuckled and brought your hand to his cheek. You brushed your fingers over his soft stubbles. Bucky tilted his head, leaning more into your touch. “I. L. O. V. E. Y. O. U. I’m in love with you too.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes still holding yours as you literally spelled ‘I love you’ for him. He inhaled deeply; it was shaky and slow, but the smile on his face only grew the more the words seeped into his mind.

“You really do? Like, in a way that if I asked you out, you would say yes? Like in a way that if I wanted to kiss you, you would let me?” He asked; he was almost stumbling over his own words. The thoughts were racing in his mind, and he couldn’t help but imagine your soft lips pressing delicately against yours.

“I really do. I would definitely say yes. And would you like to kiss me… if I would let you. How about you try and find out?”

Bucky grinned at you, leaning closer to you. “You know, you're my rock in every hard time. You’re the star that brightens up my day. You’re the sun that warms me. And even though I still have some trouble taking care of things and even myself. Never doubt my love; I may not be good at cleaning and all. But I know that I love you more than everything; you know that, don’t you?”

You chuckled and nodded. “I do know that you do. And I would never doubt your love, my clingy, precious boy,” you smirked at him, causing him to growl in amusement. “I do love you too.”

Without another word, Bucky leaned closer and pressed his lips softly against yours. His hands found their way around your waist, pulling you into his lap while he intertwined his fingers behind your back and held you close. Your hands moved almost automatically to his neck, pulling him closer until his nose brushed over your cheek.

Bucky growled into the kiss; his lips were moving softly and slowly against yours. It felt different, like every kiss or touch the two of you ever felt before — this one wasn’t just a kiss with someone you hoped to be with forever; this was a kiss that meant forever. It was the start of your journey together, the start of the most special thing you could have imagined.

“Buc-“ you interrupted yourself the moment you heard the voice of Steve coming from your shared living room. Bucky and you were happier than ever; you had a lot of dates, and after a while you even moved in with him. He was the sweetest man you have ever met, and he feels the happiness back inside of him. But now you had to listen to your boyfriend talking to his ex-boyfriend, to the man he used to love more than everything.

Your heart was beating faster, and you pressed yourself against the wall behind you, scared of what you were going to hear. Bucky loved you; the two of you had enough time and moments to fall deeply in love with you. But you never thought what would happen the moment Steve would walk back into his life because you never thought Steve would do that.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I don’t know what came over me or what made me do that. I should have never left; I don’t… I just don’t know,” Steve mumbled and ran his fingers through his hair. The hair Bucky used to love running his fingers through and playing with the strands of Steve’s hair.

Bucky shook his head. He inhaled deeply before looking straight into his ex-boyfriend's blue orbs. “I accept your apology.”

Your heart dropped when you heard that; a shaky breath left your lips, and you had to fight the tears that threatened to break free. This couldn’t be possible; Bucky couldn’t leave you, could he? You tried to stay as calm as possible, listening carefully to the conversation before freaking out or breaking down.

“So you come back? You let me come back? I missed you; it was all a big mistake. I never cheated on you; I just needed to see that you’re the one for me, I guess. Bucky, please give us another chance. I will be better this time,” Steve said, his voice pleasing, and you knew without having to look at him how he looked at Bucky. You wouldn’t blame Bucky for going back to Steve, even though it would break your heart. If it was Bucky’s wish to go back to Steve, he would never dare to be between them and stop Bucky from being happy.

“Guess you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor,” Bucky said, his voice calm and shaking. He shook his head as he looked at Steve, who had tears in his eyes. “I wish that you had thought this through before I went and fell in love with you.”

Steve’s jaw dropped as he heard the words leaving his ex-lovers lips. “Buck… you-you can’t be serious. I love you; I always loved you.”

You noticed the shaking in Steve’s voice, and you felt almost pity — wouldn't he have been the reason for Bucky being down and broken after he left. You heard Bucky shuffling; he was probably grasping his hair like he always did and turned around. Bucky inhaled deeply before turning back to Steve. “Did you love me when she was sleeping in the bed we made? Don’t you dare forget about the way you betrayed me. ‘Cause I know that you will never feel sorry for sleeping in the bed with her, for kissing her, for looking at her like you used to look at me,” Bucky breathed out.

“I-I didn’t..” Steve gets interrupted by Bucky shaking his head. He didn’t want to hear more; he didn’t want anyone to destroy his happiness ever again — not even his ex-boyfriend. “Please, Bucky, I need you.”

“I’m sorry,” the brown-haired mumbled. He wasn’t sure to tell Steve about you, to tell him about the love he found and the happiness he feels again. “I can't, and I honestly don't want to. You broke me and.. I—“

“You what?” Steve asked in a dominant and angry tone. His eyes widened when he thought about a possible reason Bucky couldn’t go back to him. “No. Don’t tell me you… Bucky, no.”

You took a few steps back before you walked with a few louder steps to let them know that you approached the room. Steve and Bucky looked at you. Steve’s eyes were widened with shock and disbelief, while Bucky looked at you with a soft smile and brightened eyes at you.

“Babydoll,” Bucky smirked and held his arms open for you to walk closer to him. Your eyes drifted to Steve for a moment before you let Bucky wrap his arms tightly around you. He pressed his lips softly against your forehead, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his waist — which you did. “How was the meeting? Everything fine, or do you need anything?”

You smiled softly against his chest. Bucky was always so sweet and caring when it came to you. He always made sure that you had everything you needed and that you got whatever you wanted or needed. Seeing your smile and the love you gave to him made his heart swell, and he just couldn’t help but feel in love with you every time.

“Everything is fine. Just wanted to get a glass of water and ask if you have any idea for dinner today,” you mumbled before pulling back softly and looking at Steve. His eyes were narrow, and he watched the two of you intensely. Steve swallowed thickly when he saw the way Bucky hugged you, the way he kissed your forehead, and how sweet and loving he was around you. “Hey, Steve.”

He nodded, watching you walk toward the kitchen. His eyes were glued to you. Bucky cleared his throat, getting Steve’s attention. The smile on Bucky’s face turned into a like again when he looked back at Steve, who shook his head slightly.

“Are you fu— kidding me? How much do you pay her that you made me suffer like that? Do you want me to get on my knees to beg you to take me back?” Steve asked, determined to get an answer that would make it possible for Steve to get his ex-boyfriend back.

“I’m not doing it to make you suffer. I love her, and she loves me. When you left, I went home, I sat in the corner of the room, and everything reminded me of you,” Bucky said before taking a deep breath.

He didn’t like to hurt Steve like that; he didn’t want to hurt him, but he wasn’t in love with him anymore. Bucky found you; he found his babydoll, someone who would never leave him — for no one else.

“I thought about what could make you go back in time, and then I noticed. Peggy, the way you looked at her in the bar. She was the first woman who gave you attention. It didn’t matter that I loved you more than everything because you got the attention of a woman — a handsome and nice woman,” the brown-haired man’s eyes roamed over Steve’s face, noting the ways his lips twitched. Bucky knew he was right; he knew that Steve loved the attention he got from Peggy; no woman had ever looked at him like that before.

“That’s not… I mean, yes, but that’s not true. I do like the attention I got from her, but that doesn’t mean that I love you less. I do love you the same.” Steve growled; he was annoyed. Not about Bucky but about himself. Maybe a bit about you too, but the most he was annoyed and mad at himself. “You can’t just date someone else. You still love me, don’t you?”

“No. I saw you disappearing; did you hear my scream? She saw it; she fucking heard it. Did you ever think about me before or while you did it? I wrote a letter for you. Every single day. And the only thing I thought about was you being happier,” Bucky mumbled, staring directly into Steve’s eyes.

The other man swallowed thickly. The hurt in Bucky’s expression when he told him about the day Steve left. Or the love in his expression when he looked at you. Or when he kissed you, Bucky was so soft and lovely that Steve wasn’t sure if it was all a game to make him suffer or if it was true. But with every following word, he knew that Bucky fell in love with you and that he really loved you.

“My friends told me one day I'd feel it too. And I do; I finally do. I feel with her what it is to be loved — to know that she will never leave me like you did. I could have tried to smile and hide the truth when you left. When I thought I was happier with you, she would have seen because she always knows how I feel, how I really feel.”

“Bucky, you can’t be serious; you just can’t.” Steve breathed out, the realization that the brown-haired man is now happier with you hitting him. So he added in a softer and quieter tone. “But yes… you look happier, you do.”

The brown-haired man nodded, smiling softly. He felt sorry for Steve, but it was his decision to leave; it was his decision to go back in time to live another life. Bucky looked over to the kitchen where you’re standing with your glass; you watched them. When your eyes locked, you smiled softly, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel his heart beating even faster for you.

Bucky turned back to Steve before he smiled at him as well — it was less happy and not reaching his eyes but assuring. “I knew one day you’d fall for someone new. But that’s okay, cause I found someone who made me feel loved like you never could make me feel.” Bucky said, his eyes wandering from Steve to you and back to Steve.

The other man huffed; he thought Bucky would wait for him to let him come back so they could be happy together. “I hope she’s making you happy. But if she breaks your heart like lovers do, just know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

Bucky’s body tensed at those words. He knew that Steve was hurt and wanted to hurt him as well, but he also knew that he’s happier with you now. He found the love he never thought existed; you would never leave him, and you love him with every fiber of you. With all the words and gestures, the love and affection you give him, you show him that you mean it, that Bucky means everything to you — just like you mean everything to him.

“She isn’t a lover of mine. She is the other half of me. She’s my babydoll; she would never do anything that hurts me,” Bucky mumbled before leading Steve out of the house. Then he returned to you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you tightly against his broad chest.

“Thank you; without you, I would have never felt that love, and I would never have been able to be strong enough to say no to someone who betrayed me. My babydoll, mine, all mine.” Bucky pressed his lips against your neck, then your cheek, until he pulled you into a soft kiss. A kiss that said more than words could ever express — love and affection for eternity.

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[jazjelspen]

my angel baby [part 2]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD oh and angst hehe]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

[tags: @luujjvi @c-lunette @mokisano @ghostdoodlen @wildfire153 @anonymousewrites @bewitchedbymadness @thisbitchreallyneedssleep @22carolina08 @original-person]

[remember if you want to keep in touch with a particular series I write, let me know in comments or messages you want to be tagged! you will only be tagged once unless specified that you want to be tagged till the end of a particular series!]

(also once again, apologies if alastor’s last name isn’t actually altruist qwq it’ll stick till the end of this fic but I’ll try not to mention it as much)

For the first time in years, you feared being in heaven.

Not that you felt unsafe, just that you felt incredibly uncomfortable seeing your serial killer dad who's now a demon be invited to be in the place where light and goodness is it's main foundation.. even reassuring yourself that it was temporary didn't calm you down when you were flying away from him. For your own sake you even avoided where the welcoming was happening.

Ahh but.. it also didn't help that he was following you around after the show without you knowing.

After the angels had performed their song to welcome in the princess of hell, her apparent partner, and-- him.. everyone sort of went their separate ways and the visitors from below started to relax in their new yet temporary places of stay. You felt a bit of relief when you assumed Alastor would also be setting himself in to relax as well.

During heaven's performance you decided to take a breather at a local coffee shop, one where you thankfully always had a spot there where you could hide away from the huge windows of the cafe.

Although right after that, unbeknownst to you at the time, Alastor was looking for you, but obviously pretended as if he was looking for a good bite to eat.. unfortunately for him he had to behave and he couldn't eat a living walking thing until after they came back home.

Oh how bummed out he was.

You were in a far corner inside the shop, as mentioned before anyone that was able to look in through the windows wouldn't be able to see you since you were out of view. Drinking your favorite beverage that the shop offered and eating a filling snack to relax your body and mind. Safe to say you were now more in touch with your feelings and weren't overly panicked as you once were.

'Why is he here.. is he an advisor to the princess? a companion?.. some kind of servant?.. she's really young though, perhaps she's ward to him or something.. but she has her.. dad.. and I'm sure he must be alive still.. ' You thought, different theories and ideas passing by in and out your head trying to make sense of the situation.

'perhaps.. he's here to see me?..' you hoped, then scolded yourself right after,

'nono.. I can't be wanting that.. sure he raised you but he's a monster. he killed you, _____. get a grip..' you sighed deeply while massaging your temples in frustration 'even if he seemed to not.. have meant to do that. he tried to kill someone else anyway, that poor man could've died instead of you.' you tried to reason with yourself, coming to a single conclusion in the end.

Eyes glued to your drink. staring at it with intensity.

"I regret nothing." you claimed to yourself in a low mumble, not enough for anyone close to hear.

Ahh.. but you did miss him very much.. the version of him that you grew up with at least.

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You were in your warm and humble home with your father. It was a fairly cold night with rain dropping onto the roof of your home yet the warmth of the house seemed to make the cold seem almost cozy to you.

Your small footsteps could be heard running around the house, as your little seven year old self ran around you seemed to be giggling uncontrollably with a peculiar circular item in your hand.

"No running in the house _____, remember what I told you." Alastor exclaimed in slight irritation as he could hear you from afar while he was cleaning up the table from the dinner you two just had, he started slightly missing the times when you didn't know how to walk and when you simply just blabbered baby nonsense.. he definitely doesn't miss the sleepless nights of baby crying though.

You huffed and puffed as you then plopped the item on the sofa, it was a disk, a record. You then climbed yourself up and once your little body landed on the cushions you then picked yourself up once more to then grab the disk and turn to the small table right beside the sofa where a large phonograph rested on.

"Papa!" you exclaimed, "Papa! Music music!.." you pleaded, your little voice begging to once again turn on the music playing machine.

Alastor faintly chuckled at your little demands, amusing how such a small thing dares to command but nonetheless he found it silly at how you tried. "Yes yes my dear, I'll be right there." He then set the last few dirty dishes away to be cleaned soon since he couldn't say no to listening to some tunes before bed.

You smiled brightly as your little feet playfully tapped on the cushions, almost jumping. Noticing your developing excitement Alastor hurried over to you.

"Ah-ah-ahh, no jumping on the sofa my dear. I'm excited as well but I can't have you break your little head open, that'd be no fun at all!" Well.. that and he didn't wanna ruin his cushions, but nonetheless he cared for your wellbeing the most even if he wasn't fond of admitting it.

His hands gently took the disk from your hands, carefully setting the disk on the phonograph to have it play your favorite tunes. Once you two heard the amazing first few notes of jazz was when Alastor settled down beside you on the sofa and you started clapping in delight.

Alastor looked at you almost fondly, letting out a small huff of delight at your reactions. Your innocence seemed to be something that contained him from wanting to continue his murder spree, although his bloodlust always wins in the end, he seems to always willingly pause his life for you.

Plus, he loves jazz just as much as you do.. why would he miss out on this?

Your fit of giggles dwindled down but didn't stop, in a sudden burst of energy you jumped off the sofa and then started dancing similarly yet obviously a bit more goofy to how you've seen couples and single dancers dance in the nights of Mardi Gras or just parties your father took you when he would be invited. Your little dance moves seemed to be fiddled with confidence yet they were so off from what you were trying to attempt, nonetheless you were happy, and that's what Alastor secretly liked to see.

"Dance with me papa dance with me!" you pleaded again, your smaller hands grabbing his larger one and tugging at it, trying to get him to stand up.

"_____ darling no tugging, besides I just sat down my dear and I'm exhausted." He sighed, his constant smile always present yet he was visibly a bit tired from the day he had.

But oh how you persisted, and how darn adorable you were as a kid. "But papaaa!.. pretty please! I wanna dance how you and that singing lady did the last time we went on those big loud places!"

"Parties, dear." he corrected you, but let out a long sigh and got up. Because no matter how tired he was or how annoyed he seemed to be he didn't mind keeping you happy.

So that's what he did, he danced with you. Swinging you, twirling you around to the melody and the beat, your cheers of glee and uncontrollable laughter motived him to keep up with your excitement. Not only that but your smile, genuine and pure, it was what he needed to get himself to match your energy. Jazz music was what always connected you two and it always brought you together no matter what.

At the end of the song Alastor ended it by gently throwing you up in the air and catching you, letting you get your last giggles out. You both laughed together, your bond ever growing stronger. You truly did tame this bloodthirsty killer without even trying or knowing, of course you were too young to know.

Once the giggle frenzy ended you both finished your dancing with a long sigh, the phonograph ending it's segment. You then suddenly yawned and rested your head in the crook of his neck over his shoulder, snuggling for warmth and for a sudden need to sleep.

"Seems like my little fawn needs sleep now, almost past your bedtime young lady." Normally he'd scold you a bit more strictly as he usually did, but seeing as how you were basically ready to fall into a pile of dreams he just felt no need to do that.

"Sorries papa.. I forgot.." your little words muffled by your face hidden in his neck.

Alastor was never one for being touched, let alone hugged or snuggled. Oh but he had no right to complain, he's had you this close since you were a baby.. to him this just felt normal now.

Of course no one but you could be this close to him, you're his little girl after all.

"No need to worry, my dear." He stopped in front of your bedroom, carefully opening the door with a creak following after. With careful footsteps he walked towards your bed, pulling the blanket away to then gently place you on your cozy sheets with care.

Alastor gently moved any misplaced hairs away from your face as he then pulled your soft and warm blanket up to your neck. Your sleeping face reassuring him.

"Sweet dreams sweetheart." His usual smile softening a bit more before backing away and slowly heading towards the door of your room, lingering for a few extra seconds to take one last look at you before slowly closing the door and heading off to bed himself.

After the click of the door closing can be heard, you mumbled "Goodnight papa.." with a smile, even if in the end Alastor didn't get to hear it.

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You missed him, dearly.

A weight fell on your chest, your eyes begging to form tears. You missed when you had that childhood innocence, when you didn't know what he was capable of, when he was nothing but a saint to you.

It still hurt after all these years, you thought he was a good man.. a bit strict, blunt, a bit too true to himself and definitely peculiar but.. the Alastor that raised you would never do that. Until you were obviously proven otherwise.

Oh but I guess you were too into your reminiscing that you didn't notice the background gasps and small shrieks of surprise and fear, and you didn't yet feel the eventual stares and eerie presence right in front of you.

"What don't you regret, my dear?"

You choked on your drink in surprise almost spitting it out,

that fucking radio voice again.

For heaven's sake how did he find you?? He couldn't have seen you through the windows. Did he follow you??.. did you just not notice.. Oh geez maybe getting used to having your guard down during all your years in heaven definitely didn't help with this situation.

You continued coughing on your drink, even punching your chest a bit to get that last good cough out. The radio demon pulled the chair in front of you to sit across from you, not waiting to ask permission.

To him he didn't need to, he's your father after all.

Once you calmed down you immediately avoided eye contact, only giving him a once second glance to confirm it was him in hopes your ears were playing a trick on you-- they weren't.

"How.. how'd you find me.." you mumbled in slight fear.

"Oh how would I not! Sweetheart I'm your father of course, as your father I must have those parental instincts.. I always know where you are!" he exclaimed, seemingly proud of this.

"I'm guessing those 'parental instincts' didn't kick in when you stabbed me, huh." you spat with attitude, unafraid to be rude to him with so much sin he's committed.

A sharp static sound came from him, as if in slight shock at the disrespect and comeback you gave. "Watch the attitude young lady, you're still an Altruist you know."

You scoffed, hating at how indifferent you felt about your last name.

"Not by blood though.."

"I raised you, don't forget that." he spat back, starting to get irritated.

"And because of that I owe you?"

"Yes, yes indeed! Smart girl you are."

You scoffed at his response, finally getting the guts to look at him in the face. His appearance frightened you, disgusted you even.

Is this truly the man that raised you?

"As a matter of fact, I actually don't." you crossed your arms in annoyance and a huff. Your eyes couldn't help but to slowly drift to off to the people behind him and you see fellow angels you know continue to stare in awe or fear, of course at Alastor. With all eyes on you and mostly him it made you feel a little embarrassed. You cowered down a bit and your wings went over your head and shoulders a bit as if to hide you behind a 'curtain' of sorts.

Alastor obviously noticed this, but could care less about the stares.

You sighed, "Look, Alasto--"

"I think you mean to call me 'father'." he interrupted as he obviously seemed a bit sassy about it. "Even 'dad' is just simply fine and dandy with me!"

"No, I can't," you frowned, wishing you could "I won't. Not after what you did to me, to that man that night, and to every other poor soul you hurt."

Your face slowly scrunched up in disgust "You don't deserve my forgiveness, my mercy."

In embarrassment and feeling tears want to shed you grabbed your drink and got up to walk out, before you could get past Alastor though he grabbed your wrist harshly.

"Uh-- hey.. let go--"

"I didn't mean to do what I did, my dove." His voice turned into a weird version of gentle, almost uncharacteristically gentle. "I never intended to take your life away."

He sounded genuine.

Could he?.. Would he?..

Maybe, just maybe--

"No." you spat, "Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me, but you definitely meant to hurt others. That's something I can't forgive and I'm sure your victims wouldn't neither." you glared at him, setting your foot down. "I refuse to call you my father, not until I know that you repent for your sins but knowing you I highly doubt that." You snatched your wrist away and for a slight second you stopped caring about what others thought when they'd see this "Besides, you killed me two weeks after I turned eighteen.. don't even include the years that passed since the 30s and present time so clearly you can't control me anymore old man."

But Alastor wouldn't go down that fast nor easily.

His sharp smile widened, you felt immense dread.

"Oh little one, no matter how far you are or how much you try to disown me you are forever connected to me. I made you who you are and you can try to run and fly off however long you want but in the end you're tied to me whether you like it or not. Even in death."

He seemed deathly serious with his statements so much so that you could've sworn you could see his shadow giggling and smirking in a way that seemed even worse and more than evil.

Your breath quietly hitched in fear in noticing this to the point where it even forced you to take a step back. He let out a sinister chuckle before you couldn't help but speed out of the shop and flew out.

You couldn't handle him, he was shameless when showing this side of him.. how could he be this shameless and normal?? How could he act like this and be proud about it? He killed people and doesn't regret it, you being the only exception just didn't feel right and it wasn't fair!

Not to you.

He may have been able to silently control you and vaguely manipulate you to believe he was anything but a bad person back when you were alive and young but now your eyes are wide open and so is your heart.

You have such a bad feeling about this whole thing, he was up to no good he just couldn't be-- he had to be using the princess as an excuse to do something shitty.

Good thing you had plenty of connections, if you just played your cards right...

Hey.. wasn't there something about a court meeting happening soon?

On the other hand Alastor stayed sitting there still chucking devilishly, his intentions and true feelings smeared and unclear.

With a snap of his fingers a cup of black coffee appeared and he began drinking it with a sense of casual glee and eyes closed in delight. Until he felt eyes on him, two nearby to be exact. He opened one eye to look at the angels staring at him and they both seemed like more biblically accurate angels, both having one eye and all. The radio demon shot them an evil grin.

"Oh adolescents these days, rebellious aren't they." He cackled before going back to drinking his coffee, the angels creeped out by his interaction soon scurried away from him.

The fear. He enjoyed it, just not really from you.

(thank you all who asked for part 2!! of course I had to deliver since you all really wanted it and honestly I love adding flashbacks to memories Alastor and the reader had when they were alive, makes their ending on earth just that more painful (as if it wasn't clear I love angst). Honestly I don't mind making more parts for this! If the demand is consistent and you guys still want to keep up with it I have a few ideas to keep this going! Once again thank you so much for reading!! Now I must finish writing for other stories lolllll!)

(p.s: i highly recommend listening to any mitski song while reading this I think it fits well especially with the flashback scene hehe)