#TDMLM

[creampie-capital]

║My Ex, The Oni║║━ Pt. 1 ━║

ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ║21,113

The Devil May Lick Me Masterlist ━━━➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞

↳.·:*¨༺𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧༻¨*:·.

Photo Reference Cred ━━━➤ 82PIGEON on X (Twitter) Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately. Now onto the story :)

Steam wafts off your skin, a transparent whisp that floats from the intense heat emanating from your body. Soaked hair sticks to your limbs before you lean forward and wrap a towel around them to flip over. 

The ringing continues from your bedroom, blaring like scratches on the walls that spur you quickly exit from the bathroom. 'Don Juan,' his nickname since forever, flickers on the screen with the image of his stupid face. 

Fixing your robe, you answer and place it on the speaker. "Hello!!! I've been callin' for the past ten minutes." Rafe drags his voice out, stretching his vowels in the way he loves to when he's irritated. 

"I was in the shower, babe. You already know eight o'clock is shower time." You jeer and respond in the same manner. 

"Right, right." His response is calmer now as he releases a deep sigh. "Sorry, It's just busy at work, but I needed to know if you were busy tomorrow. My parents are visiting, and they want to see you. I know last time they were kind of rude, but that is just how they play around. My entire family is blunt like that, so I guess it's just in blood, haha." 

In an instant, you're biting your lip while your dominant hand curls into a fist. That a**hole, how many times do you have to tell him that you're not going to meet them again after last time? They blatantly insulted you and passed it off as jokes and gags in front of your face and his presence. 

You were surprised you were able to grin and bear it, taking their backhanded compliments and disrespect with awkward laughs and bows of your head. Not again; you're not going to take it again with Rafe sitting right by your side with silence on his tongue. 

"Rafe, come on. I've already told you I'm not going to see them again unless I get a genuine apology." 

"How can they give you a genuine apology if you won't see them again." 

He silences you in that moment as you stop mid-movement from grabbing your panties. "Touché, Don Juan." Rafe had a point. However, your body is engraved with pettiness. The hurt and humiliation they gave you had riddled your very bones with hatred. 

Forgiving them feels like losing the battle and accepting their disrespect. It's been one of your negatives since a young age, bearing rage and grudges even if they affected your closest relationships. Even your therapist struggles to help you settle those internal grievances. 

"I've talked with them, you know. It's hard for them to understand that their bluntness is not something everyone appreciates." You're both silent after his words; the only noise coming from the club is the muted music from the club he bartends at. 

Standing in the middle of your room, with only your panties and damp robe on, you find yourself fighting your resolve as water dries off your skin from the a/c. Now that the heat cools into a mellowness, even your anger somewhat subsides. 

Rafe then cuts the silence as he speaks. "It's only for coffee at Selena's. With the holiday coming up, they wanted to see you and me before they leave. And that means a lot, you know, the fact that they want to see you again." 

Ugh, you're starting to feel bad for constantly rejecting their invites. Only slightly bad, however, because you cannot forget those snide remarks that yeiled your blood to boil. Though...maybe they weren't that bad, but you took them the wrong way because as soon as someone offends you, you close off and refuse to listen anymore. 

However, that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. 

"Fine. I'll come but only for an hour. But if they act the same way they did last time, then I'm out. I'm not just going to sit there and take everything while you act like a coward. Got it?" 

"Got it." He murmurs while you hear the sound of his clothes shifting. "And again, I'm sorry about how I acted last time. It was cowardly, and I didn't consider your feelings." 

With a nod of your head, you part your lips to respond; however, a ring from the foyer of your apartment solidifies you in your spot. Immediately, you're on the defense, body tense and eyes narrowed. 

"Hold up, someone's at my door." You whisper before grabbing your phone, muting it, and stalking close to your door. The emergency services are already dialed, only awaiting the call button in case something goes wrong. 

Pressing a button on your apartment intercom, the blank screen flashes to show the video imaging outside your door, and you cannot believe who stands in front of your entrance with a smug a** grin. 

"Oh, my f*cking god." You seethe with the blood inside of your heating up before unmuting your call. "It's nobody important. I call you back; love you, babe." 

"'kay. Be safe, and I love you too. I finish at two, so if you're still up, I call you later." 

Ending the call, you undo the towel in your hair to throw it aside and unlock your door. With a harsh tug, you open it with a deep glare. "What the hell are you doing here, and how the hell do you know where I live?"

Kohaku stands there with that stupid a** grin and glint in his heterochromia eyes. "Come on, can't a guy just say hi?" 

He looks the same as he did in high school, only more muscular as his clothes stretched across his limbs. His hair is still that ink-black slop with the strip of white strands, only longer and slightly styled. 

The little horns on his forehead remain as cute as ever, as much as you hate to admit it. Piercings riddle his pointed ears, and you wonder how he got them done when he's always been a little b*tch about the sensitivity of his earlobe. 

"Not even on my grave would I let you even say hi. What the f*ck do want?" You sneer, though it does nothing to wipe off his grin. 

With a snap of his fingers, he points them at you like finger guns. "First off, you look cute in that robe, but it's a little too short. Not that I mind~." Your face heats up with the boiling of your blood. "Second of all," He suddenly twists around and picks up a...a little girl!? "-I need you to watch this sprat for a couple of months."

He hands her to you, holding her up from under her armpits like he's attempting to hand over a stray pet. The kid doesn't even seem phased, staring with a bored(?) expression as though nothing is going on in her head. 

She's small, maybe five or six, wearing an oversized pink sweater and knee-high black socks with beat-up sneakers. Her eyes, her eyes hold two different colors, one icy blue and the other lime green. She had her own pair of horns that matched her tan skin with the tips slightly peachy red. Even her hair was the same ink black with the one area in the front white from his genetic disorder. It was long, down to her ankles, and unruly. Tangles are everywhere, and the frizz overtakes her head like lions made. 

"Excuse me...? Ex-f*cking-scuse me!?" The roar of your voice was louder than you meant, and you knew in an instant that your neighbors were going to complain. "F*ck, f*ck." You whisper to yourself while opening the door wider and pointing inside. "Get in, quick." 

That grin grew as he waltzed in and immediately began inspecting your place. 

Shutting the door and locking it, you turn back with your arms crossed and a wicked glare. "You got some explaining to do because what in your right mind thinks you can just waltz up in here after everything you did and think I would do you favor? Much less-" You point to the kid he's still carrying. "The favor being taking care of a brat from when you cheated on me?" 

Finally, Kohaku's smile drops as he frowns awkwardly. "Well...when you put it like that, it makes me look like a really bad guy." 

"You are the bad guy." It seems your words nicked a nerve as his blue and green eyes flickered to your face, and his frown withered. 

The Oni set the girl down on your laminated wooden floors before swiping a hand across his mouth and looking away. "It wasn't like that. You know I would never cheat on you. I just-" 

You cannot even handle hearing anymore. The sound of his voice that you used to love trying to justify the way he broke your heart is something you can't bear. "You just what? You got some f*cken freedom in college and went off to do your own thing? Got to finally get away from my 'overbearingness' and 'clinginess' so you could f*ck around with, how did you put it, 'woman that wasn't like me'?" 

Kohaku inhaled a deep breath and finally met your gaze as he placed an open hand on his broad chest. "I was childish and selfish. People were treating me like someone important, and I let it go to my head. I said things I didn't mean-" 

Tears are burning in your eyes, burning like poison, as you step forward to grab the front of his shirt and tug. "You called me in the middle of the night while you were at a party just to tell me things were over! You had been neglecting me for weeks, and when you finally called, when I could finally hear your voice again, it was just to break up so you could f*ck some skank without a guilty conscious!"

He suddenly grips your wrist, the heat of his touch almost shocking you like electricity as he tears off your hold. "The way I broke up with you was f*cked up, I admit it. I apologize for that. But at least I had the f*cken decently to break up instead of cheating on you, instead of hiding it behind your back. I loved you enough to not do that sh*t to you." 

"...What!?" You laugh in disbelief while yanking your arm out of his grasp. "Loved me enough!? If you had even loved me, you wouldn't have been ignoring me when you entered college! You wouldn't have stopped answering my calls! For f*cks sake, if you had really loved me, you wouldn't have broken up with me for some one-night stand when I was your girlfriend you promised to marry!" 

Banging erupts from your living room wall, most likely from your neighbor to tell you to shut the f*ck up. It was already late, people were trying to sleep, and you were having a breakdown. Now that you could hear the silence of the apartment and feel the blood pumping in your veins, you then also realized tears were snaking down your cheeks. 

"Damn." You whisper and turn your head away to march towards the kitchen. "I can't deal with you sober." It didn't take long for you to pour yourself a shot and downing it before grabbing a beer can and gulping half so the effects could hit you sooner. 

From the entranceway, Kohaku says something to the girl before making his way over. You don't even look at him, leaning against the counter as the can hangs loosely between your fingers. So many years have passed since then, yet the wound of it all remains unhealed. He was your first love, someone you gave yourself to wholeheartedly. 

You loved him with everything you had and believed that you both would go to the same college together, then marry later on, have a family, and grow old together. Truthfully, you should have known better; you romanticized that relationship. You both were just kids from a small town, not realizing how big the world was. 

Well, you didn't. Because he was a grade above you, he went off to university first, and that's when he got a taste of what the real world was like. That's when he experienced so many things that a small town just can't provide. 

He had his eyes opened while you remained blissfully ignorant. 

Now that time has passed, you have experienced those feelings firsthand. The world was so different; there was so much going on that you would have never encountered if you stayed in that town. You get it; you get that you were just holding him back. 

But that doesn't stop the hurt from becoming any less painful. It's been how many years, yet the feeling of betrayal still feels so fresh it's almost pathetic.

Were you the one who was more in love than he was? Is that why you're still hurt after all these years, even though you've already moved on? 

"I'm sorry."

His voice right now is no longer pissing you off; it's just making you feel even more pathetic. You don't know if you ever quell the hatred from how he broke up with you, and that's sad. He did the adult thing and ended it instead of just lying behind your back. 

How he went about it was wrong, but he did the right thing and left the relationship. You should be over it by now, but with his reappearance, those feelings have returned.

"...Don't... You're not sorry. You're just tryna make me feel better, and it's only make me feel worse." You murmur while covering your mouth and burping slightly from the carbonation. "So... who is the kid? Gotta be your daughter 'cause she's got that same stupid a** white streak." 

Kohaku laughs in his throat before leaning against the wall on his side and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You used to love it." He teases, and you can tell he really is trying to lighten the mood, but you don't want any of that. "Well, today is actually the first time I've met her." 

"Oh." You release like a breath of air before turning your head to face him. "Do tell." 

He rubs the back of his neck with the leather of his jacket, squeaking from his movements. "That girl from college, we actually started dating after we...you know." 

Something stings in your heart, but it drifts away in slow rolls as you breathe it out. "Wow. I guess it wasn't just some one-night stand, then. Don't know if it makes me feel better or worse, though."  

He clicks his tongue while shaking his head. "Well, a couple of years later, she cheated on me, so we broke up. After that, I transferred to a different university and never saw her again or remained in contact with her. That was until this morning, she just showed up with the girl and some papers and declared I had full custody. She told me that the girl would be my full responsibility and I could do whatever I wanted without getting my ex involved. Then she just left." 

You laugh under your breath. "Drops the responsibility on to you, huh, and now you're doing the same to me. And that girl isn't even mine." Whether you meant to or not, the last part poured from your lips with petty abhorrence. 

It was your dream to have a child, to share a child with him that was from the both of you. Someone else got to have that dream, yet they threw it away so carelessly. 

Kohaku stands to his full stature and steps forward. His height grows, and you remember the enormous height difference that you used to love. Somehow, he feels even taller than you remember. 

"I'm sorry." He exclaims and places an open hand on your back. Was his hands always this big? It feels like he could cover so much space. "I'm really sorry for doing that. I'm not in the position to take care of her, nor is it safe for a kid to be around me. There's no one else I could think of but you to ask for this favor." 

You lick your lips and stare into those multi-colored eyes. "Safe? And you couldn't ask anyone else's in your life? No other friends or girlfriends? Not even your dad?"

He removes his hand to place it against his chest as though he were wounded. "First of all, aren't you honored that you're the only one I can think of after all these years?" 

You give him a deadpan expression while pointing a finger at him. "No." 

"You're literally no fun." He whines. "And for your information, Dad would make things more complicated than they would need to be. I don't need that right now when I've got to figure things out." 

A laugh ripples from your mouth and echoes out. "Ahh, your dad would grab you by the horn and go and on about family values 'till your ear would fall off. Then he'd put that girl to work on the farms. That old fart wouldn't miss any opportunity for free labor." 

Even speaking of it brings forth memories of helping around the farm because you were too nice to say no. He always managed to keep you around for hours until your mother would come to get you. You'd be all dirty, sweaty, and (tanned/burned) from being under the sun for so long. 

You hated those times, but they are memories you will never forget. They were part of your childhood and adolescence, and they did give you some muscle that helped you do well in sports.

Sighing, you lean forward to rest your arms on the counter and your cheek on your wrist as the dizziness comes forth. "How is your old man?" 

"Same old, same old." He responds and maneuvers so he's resting his behind against the counter and elbows on it to hold up his weight. "He'll honestly outlive us from his sheer stubbornness." 

That statement couldn't be any more true. If you were the queen of pettiness, then his father was the king of stubbornness. Whatever his dad decided on, he would stick with it to the end, even if he were in the complete wrong. 

As much as you love the big world and the big city, there is that nostalgic feeling of sitting on his father's porch in that big squeaky rocking chair and drinking a fresh glass of lemonade. It would be nice to do that again and stare out onto the massive field of his farmland, feeling the cool breeze on your skin. 

The same four country songs always seemed to play from his beat-up radio, yet he refused to let anyone change the station. You used to hate that and dread even the sound of a guitar. Now, you find yourself missing it. 

"I miss your batty old dad." You state, mumbling under your breath and blinking heavily. 

Kohaku laughs and nods his head with a slight grin. "As much as that old man gets on my nerves, I miss him too." 

Nothing more is stated; instead, sharing a deep silence that would have been awkward to others but was comforting to both of you. 

Surprisingly, you were looking at the past and yearning for the simpler times. Doing so usually would just leave you aggravated, but tonight, it was pacifying. Life is always so busy, and you like that it never leaves you a moment to dwell on the past and what could have been. 

Maybe you just needed to get those feelings off your chest. After the breakup, you were never in contact with him again. The anger from the heartbreak had you crumble up all those feelings and throw them down in a void. 

They were a weakness, something you refused to give in to. But the anger remained, and questions you always wanted to ask were stuck in the back of your head. They didn't push forward, they didn't take precedent, they were just there, waiting. 

Sniffling, you stand up and step over to the sink to dump the rest of your beer. "What is her name?" 

"Simat? If I could name her, it would have been something cooler." 

You angle your head back to sneer at him. "Don't kid yourself. You would have named her something ridiculous like your Gamertag. I don't even want to hear it." If there is one thing he should never get his hands on, it's naming. 

Abpruplty, your phone rings, and you see Rafe on the screen. You didn't realize how close it was to one o'clock. 

"Ouu, your boyfriend." Kohaku teases as he snatches your phone to look at the picture. "Hmm, he's decent looking and has good nose genetics. However, you could do better. And what's with that name? Don Juan is so ridiculous. And you're the one saying I suck at coming up with names." He utters with a finger on his chin as though he were profoundly contemplating. 

"A**hole." You exclaim and snatch back your cellular device, only for the call to end. "It's a joke nickname from our friend group. And as an ex-boyfriend, you have no right to judge my boyfriend."

The Oni falls back comically while holding a hand against his chest, tugging at it as though he were having a heart attack. "You wound me, (Y/n). As an ex-boyfriend, I have every right. I have to make sure the men you get with aren't better looking than me!" 

His response yields another deep sigh, and you shift your weight onto one leg and cross your arms beneath your bust. "Get the f*ck out of my apartment." 

"What about-" 

"I will do you this favor one time, but after, don't ever come back asking for anything. Don't ever come back, period. You're from my past; you don't belong in my future." With that said, you stride past the muscular man and back to the living room, where the little girl sits playing with a big Orc doll. 

Kohaku follows you around your couch and kneels in front of the girl. He places his big hands on her knees and gains her attention. "I have to go now. I'm sorry for leaving your side, but it's not safe at my place. I'll be coming around every few days to see you, okay?"

Simat doesn't speak, but she nods her head before resuming her attention on her big green doll. The older Oni appears to be observing her appearance for a few seconds before standing up and placing a hand on her head to ruffle her already disorderly hair. 

With one last look, he begins making his way to your front door, with you following behind. "Should I give you my email so you can notify me when you're coming to see her or-" 

"No, I've already got your number," Kohaku states before winking and exiting the front door. "By the way, you need a new robe. I can see your a**cheeks, not that I mind~!"

"Kohaku, you pervert! Wait, how!? I changed my number after high school!" You question in the hallway, but he refrains from responding, only waving his hand until he disappears around the corner. 

With a defeated sigh, you close the door and lock it. Now, it's just the two of you alone in your apartment. It's awkward, and you cannot help the painful feelings. Resentment fills your veins, a nasty bitterness that corrodes your insides. 

You have to remind yourself that this child is an innocent bystander, someone who had no say in what had transpired. It was not her fault she was born, much less from your ex-boyfriend. It's just the way things were. 

Finally, you were able to shake yourself up enough to go to your room, grab some undersized clothes that she could fit into, and return. 

"Simat?" She slowly looks up from her doll and stares with her heterochromia eyes. From the moment you met her, that dead expression has remained, not once going away. She's not crying for Mommy or Daddy; she's not afraid of some stranger standing in front of her. 

It's eerie, almost scary, and it slowly eats away the corroding of resentment. "Do you want to shower or sleep?" You ask her softly, yet she only stares at you with those lifeless eyes. If it were not for the slight movement of her chest from breathing, you would have thought she was some broken, dirty doll thrown out. 

"Okay, umm. Take these clothes and change in the bathroom. I'll make the bed for you." Without wasting time, she stands up to take the clothes and make her way down the hall to the bathroom. You didn't tell her where it was, but she must have been looking around while you and Kohaku were talking. 

She looks pitiful; you cannot help but feel bad for her. 

With her changing, you push forward the coffee table to pull out the bed. It was an expensive couch you bought a while ago for when your girlfriends were too drunk to go home. With their picky choices, you were able to find this one that they actually liked, so it should be good enough for the girl. 

It already has clean sheets, so you go to the closet to grab the piles of pillows and blankets you have before making the bed. Simat returns soon after in your PJs before placing her sweater, socks, and shoes in her little pink bag. 

"Do you want to watch something or..." Simat only stares at you as she stands in her spot. With a slight narrowing of your eyes, you point your hand that had the remote at the bed. "Go lay down." Instantly, the girl listens, grasping the blanket to help haul herself on top. "Simat, get off for a second." Without a complaint, she does so, sliding off and standing right next to it with no change in her expression. 

The pity you felt had intensified, and you suddenly regretted the way you had spoken to her earlier. She seems very closed off for a young girl when she should be expressing herself at this age. Even more, she's incredibly obedient, following orders without a word or complaint. 

"Come sit here for a second. I want to talk to you." The girl listens, climbing back up before crossing her legs and holding the doll against her chest. 

Slowly, you sit on the edge and lick your lips while trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry for all the yelling you heard earlier. I was just really upset, but that is no excuse. My name is (Y/n). I was your daddy's friend from a long time ago." No words, just a blank stare. "Uh, you'll be staying with me for a while, but your father will be here every few days. I don't have a daughter, so I'm not sure how to take care of you, but if there are things that you don't like, then don't be afraid to tell me. I don't know how things were at your mom's, but here you have every option you want, whether it's if you want to watch TV or not. Okay?" 

No response; her nose barely even flares as she breathes. "To make things easier, nod your head for okay or yes. Shake for no. Okay?" For a second, she seems to hesitate before finally she moves her head up and down a little. 

It feels like a small victory, and you cannot help but smile. "I'm not good at this stuff, but let's learn together, okay?" Again, it takes her a few seconds as though she is thinking about it, but she nods. "Alright. I'm going to put a kid's movie on, but if you don't like it, then here is the remote. You can stay up however long you want for now. In the morning, we'll have breakfast, and then we'll go from there."

Slowly, she nods her head, which spurs you to softly pat her head before standing up and pulling the covers over her lap. "Goodnight, Simat. I'll see you in the morning." The girl doesn't say anything, only sinking into the pillows and staring at the large TV screen.  

Without making much noise, you go to your own bed only to pass out once your head hits the pillow. You hadn't even changed out of your robe, and you're too tired from the emotional rollercoaster no one but your ex can make you ride. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

In the morning, you are woken up by the ringing of your phone. Your eyes are still closed, and your mind is half awake as you answer. "Hmm." 

"'Morning, babe. I'm almost done getting ready. Then I'm going to come get you to go to Selena's." Rafe's voice comes out from the device, and you hum in response. 

However, after a few seconds, your head shoots up as your eyes widen. Sh*t, how are you going to explain to him that you're babysitting your ex-boyfriend's kid after no contact for like six years? Rafe is already super jealous and not trusting of any males in your life. His parents would be even worse if you showed up out of the blue with some kid who wasn't their son's offspring. 

Dammit 

"Sh*t babe, I forgot I've already made plans with my sister." You lie straight through your teeth as you sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Your sister isn't even in the same country, busy on her own holiday voyage that he hopefully doesn't know about.

"What?" Rafe questions and scoffs. "Come on, can't you just take a raincheck? You keep skipping out every time they want to see you, and I already told them you were coming last night. You know how it's going to look when you cancel again." 

It does look bad that you are ignoring them, but so what? They were so incredibly rude last time, and seeing them would ruin your day, even if they want to apologize. "It's not my fault they found it so funny to call me slurs and laugh about it in front of my face. I can take a slur as a joke, but they weren't joking. I'll see them when I want to see them. I'm getting ready; I'll call you later." Rafe begins saying something, but you do not even let him get his words out, quickly hanging up and collapsing onto your back. 

Staring up at your ceiling, you take deep breaths to calm your vexation before slowly sitting up. Your back and neck hurt from falling asleep in that awkward position without moving. You must have been exhausted to sleep like the dead.

After taking a moment to center yourself entirely, you get up and open the door to step down the hallway and into the living room quietly. The TV is still on, playing the Lorax halfway through as you peek over the couch. 

Simat was awake, hugging her Orc doll while watching the movie. "Good morning, Simat. Did you sleep?" She looks over before slowly nodding her head. "Are you hungry?" Another nod. "Okay, come. Go sit at the counter over there and wait while I make something." 

She does need to be told twice, obediently following orders as she crawls out of bed and shuffles to the bar stools. You had to hold back your laughter as you watched her struggle to get up, climbing like a little monkey. 

"Alright, let's see..." you murmur while opening the fridge. You look through its contents before removing some strawberries, butter, and milk and setting them on the counter. "I'm going to make pancakes. Are you okay with that?" Another nod. 

Silently, you begin pulling out all the other ingredients you need before setting up the skillet. Simats eyes are watching you the whole time, and you wonder if she's just curious or if she watches your every move out of fear to watch for danger. 

Her silence and obedience already strike you as odd, but it might not be far from a stretch to assume she was abused or, more so, neglected. There is not much you can do as an outsider; she's not even your daughter. But for now, you can just try to give her options and help her understand that it's safe in this place even though you are a stranger. 

"When I was a kid, my mom used to make pancakes that looked just like characters from my favorite anime. Have you heard of Sailor Moon?" When you turn, you see that she shakes her head no. "Really? We should watch it some time then. It's an older series, so the graphics are not that great, but I prefer it still over the remake. Just something about the new one; I just don't like it." 

With the batter mixed, you begin pouring small pools onto a hot skillet. "You know, when I don't like things, I won't do them. If I don't like it, if it hurts me or would make me unhappy, I don't do it." Flipping a pancake, you reach up in the cupboard to grab a plate. "I want you to understand that you are safe here to express yourself. You won't get hurt or yelled at if you say no. I will respect you enough to listen to your feelings, but I need you to respect me enough to listen too, okay?" 

You don't turn your head to look at her, but you can feel her nod. You're unsure if she is truly listening to you or taking your words seriously. Hopefully, she'll keep your words in mind while she stays here. 

After the food was done, you cut up some strawberries and lathered the pancakes in butter before presenting them to the girl and giving her two different bottles of syrup, one with a rich taste and another with a more robust flavor. 

She didn't eat or even lift her fork, only continuing to watch you as you made your way around the bar and took a seat next to her. Her eyes observed as you grabbed the first bottle, poured it over your food, and began cutting it up. Once you had put the bottle down, she grabbed the one you had and poured it over her plate almost the same way you did (dousing it/light covering it). 

Only when you started eating did she tear off a small piece and eat. It was both cute, as though she were mimicking you, but sad as you wondered if she wanted to make sure it was safe to eat or if she even had the right to eat. 

Silently, you both ate together until you finished and stood up to begin washing the dishes. Simat was still eating, but when you turned to check up on her, you noticed she was eating slowly and took smaller bites than before. 

"If you're full, do not force yourself to eat more than what you can handle. I won't yell or hurt you if you are done. And you're not wasting food; you just can't eat anymore." It seemed your words were exactly what she needed to hear as she dropped her fork and leaned back, seeming to pat her belly softly. 

It was too cute, like an arrow to the heart. "Good girl," you told her, then took her plate, emptied the rest away, and finished the clean-up. 

After a few minutes of cleaning, you heard the chair scrape, and Simat came over to the kitchen. She stood right by your side, with her eyes never straying from your figure. Is food the way into this little girl's heart? 

"Woo, I hate washing dishes." You joke with a little laugh before turning to the kid. That unruly hair needs to be taken care of, and she's even got some syrup on her chin that's shining in the light. "Alright, let's bathe you. Come follow me." 

Obediently, she follows you down the hall to the bathroom, where you turn the shower handle, and water bursts into the clean, porcelain basin. "Do you want hot water and bubbles?" she nods. "Good; I love bubbles, too." 

As the tub fills with an obscene amount of bubbles, you begin to help her undress. Other than her matching markings beneath the eyes she obtained from her father, there don't appear to be any scars or markings. 

It was a sigh of relief; you don't think you could hold in your anger if there were physical signs of abuse. She's not you're kid, she's not your daughter, but hurting any child in a manner was unacceptable. A slap here and there if a kid really needs discipline, but anything more would earn your fist in the parent's face. Every kid deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a kid. 

When Simat enters the tub, her attention is immediately stolen by the piles of bubbles, and she begins to play with them. She places them on her chin and cheeks, almost mimicking a beard that brings forth a laugh. 

For a second, she glances at you before returning it to the tub and adding more to her fake beard, the shape taking the form of a long wizard beard. "You make a good wizard. Should I buy you a cape and a wand?" Your joke, which you said more to yourself, had earned the child's gaze. Finally, those dead eyes hold a twinkle, a soft sparkle deep inside her colored irises. 

In an instant, you make a mental note to buy a wand and a cape immediately after this. 

While she continued to play, you washed her lengthy hair, which was way thicker than you expected. You thought you used a lot of conditioner, but this girl gave you a run for your money. You're going to have to buy more while she stays here, in fact, you need to buy lots of things. 

Not that you mind, shopping is fun, and even more fun when you have that Christmas bonus your boss gave everyone for the holidays. 

Once the water begins to turn lukewarm and the bubbles cease, you help her out and give her one of your robes. It was too oversized for her, but she looked cute in it. The two of you enter your bedroom, where you lift and sit her at the edge of your bed while you go scouring through your clothes for something around her size. 

There isn't any underwear that would fit, so you put down a pair of black biker shorts that shrunk in the wash. Even most of your shirts, other than your office clothes, are inappropriate for her age, so for now, you give her one of your crop top sweaters that is just long enough to reach her hips. 

"Alright, you can change into these and then meet me in the bathroom so we can take care of your hair." She nods and reaches for the clothes while you exit and shut the door for privacy. While she does that, you'll brush your teeth and do your own hair since it dried awkwardly last night. 

It's still unbelievable what is happening. After six years, your first love shows up on your doorstep to drop off a daughter he didn't even know he had; what a joke. It feels like a joke, a cruel joke being played. 

When you were just a teen, you used to dream about your future and imagine all these different scenarios of what your life would be like together. You'd probably have a couple of kids, all taking after their father, considering that Oni's blood was seriously dominant. 

Simat really does look like her father other than her tan skin, which made her eyes really pop. There's a knock at the door, and you tell her to come in just as you finish (throwing your hair up/pinning it back). 

She looks charming in your clothes, almost looking like you, frankly. Waving her over, she takes a step in front of you by the sink as you reach for a brush. "It doesn't seem like anyone took care of your beautiful hair, so I'm going to brush it and then cut a little. Is that okay?" Another nod so you diligently get to work. 

Her tangles had mostly calmed down after you soaked it in detangler, so you didn't have to struggle much. However, the ends were really poor, with a considerable amount of split ends, so you had to cut off quite a few inches. Those precious locks that reached her ankles were now just a little past her bum, but now that you see curls coming in, you realize she had curly hair. 

No one seemed to take care of it, so there's no way those curls would have flourished. Luckily, you had some curl cream that would do wonders for the shape. 

"I'm going to use the blow dryer, so be prepared for the loud noise, okay?" Simat nodded as she raised her hands to cover her face, which was too cute. For now, you put it on medium and scrunched her hair while drying it from below. 

"When I was younger, I wanted to be a hairstylist so bad. I thought I was so skilled when I gave all my dolls haircuts. Looking back at it now, I was actually pretty terrible, but my dad told me I was good enough to be a professional." You look at Simat in the mirror and see her daddy in every aspect. "Dads love their little girls very much. Sometimes, they're a little too overbearing, dictating everything we can and cannot do. I used to hate my dad, who always embarrassed me in front of my friends and never let me stay out late. But I look back on it and think how grateful I am that my father took my hate silently so that I could be protected." 

You don't know what Kohaku has been doing these past years or what he's up to, but the one thing you know is that he would be a good father. After all, he brought Simat here to put her safety above all else, even if it made it look like he was abandoning her. 

"Alright, you're all done! Look at these curls! You don't even know how much money girls spend just to get something similar." Simat lowers her hands to look in the mirror, and it is another arrow to the heart as she curiously raises her hair to play with the bounce. "Okay, go to the living room and finish your movie while I change."

You didn't even ask her a question, but she nodded her head and went down the hall. Slowly, she seems to be opening up, and hopefully, you can get her to be as comfortable as possible. 

After cleaning up and putting everything away, you change into jeans and a turtleneck before grabbing a jacket and making your way over to the kitchen, where you left your phone. There are a couple of missed calls from Rafe and a few missed texts from his parents, but you don't even want to see them, so you just swipe them away. 

To your surprise, there was a text from an unknown number.

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Arise sunshine, I hope u got ur beauty sleep in. I'll be busy today and tomorrow, so I won't be able to talk much throughout the day, but before she goes to bed, try to give me a call. I'd like to speak to her. 

Also, thanks again for taking care of her during my absence. I know it took u a lot to put aside everything and accept it, and I really appreciate that. No one is as reliable as u r. 💖 😘

◢

What a kissa**, trying to butter you to lessen your anger. Unfortunately, It's working. With a sigh, you lean against the wall and respond.

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Yeah, yeah.

So far, Simat's doing really well. She's still pretty nonverbal, but I have her nodding yes and shaking her head for no. It seems like your ex really neglected her, but I'm trying to get her to open up at her own pace. 

I'm going to take her shopping. I need to get her clothes that fit and some other necessities that the kid needs.

◢

To your surprise, right when you are about to put your cellular device away, it vibrates to show a reply from your ex. 

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Ur so responsible I'm envious😙😙

If there is one thing I miss, it's being coddled by u. It was nice to lay in bed and have u bring evryt to me.😪😵‍💫 

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Why do you still text like a teenage girl?

The amount of emojis you use makes me sick. Please get them off my screen before I block you and take your kid away.

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

There is nothing against a grown man using abbreviations.

Stop being prejudiced (Y/n)😠🥶. U really need to fix that stereotyping.

+get Simat wtv she needs and get urself a little smth on the side. 

Ps. If u still like cherry panties and end up buying sum, pls send pics.

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

First of all, I'm an independent woman, and I make good money, so I can buy whatever Simat and I want. 

SECOND OF ALL YOU LITTLE PERVERT

I'M IN A RELATIONSHIP!

DO NOT ASK FOR PANTY SHOTS UNLESS YOU'D LIKE MY BOYFRIEND TO HEAR ABOUT IT.

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

I can fight.

◢

He is literally so damn obnoxious you cannot stand him. You're just going to leave him on read, but you will take your money, not because you need it. Who would give up free money? 

Shutting off your phone, you place it in your back pocket, grab your purse and keys from the nightstand, and then call out to the girl. "Come, Simat. We're going to go to the store and get you the things that you need." 

The kid turned to face you before glancing down at her doll and then back at you. "Yes, you can bring your doll. Just don't drop it, okay." she nods quickly before hopping off the bed and running up to you. 

With everything ready, you exit your front door and lock it with your keypad and fingerprint. Once that's done, the two of you make your way to the elevator, which requires a key card to operate, and begin your descent to the parking lot. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Simat didn't mind your music while on the ride; she seemed infatuated with the city, watching everything that could be seen. As she sits in the back seat, you give yourself a mental note to buy a booster seat as well. 

Due to the morning traffic, it took a little while to get to the mall, but you both made it safely and parked close to the entrance. With there being many people on a Saturday morning, you crouch down and meet the girl's gaze. 

"Do you want to hold my hand so you don't get lost in the crowd?" It didn't take much convincing for her to nod her head and stick out her left hand. With a smile, you grabbed it gently but held it firmly as the two of you entered. 

With the holiday coming up, it was a bit hectic with all the people there, though the discounts and sales were a nice bonus. First, you wanted to get everything Simat needed before you even looked at your favorite stores. 

Once you enter the mall and start looking at the things you like, you lose all sense of time and are there for hours. 

The little Oni held your hand in her own as she obediently followed you and stayed by your side. While you shopped and picked up clothes that looked in her size, she surveyed everything she could. She watched people like they were in a movie, almost like something she didn't see very often. 

After filling up your basket, it came to your favorite part: the try-on! Of course, you don't mean to take advantage of how obedient she is, but it is crucial that her clothes fit and look good. 

Sitting by the bench by the mirrors and dressing rooms, you giddily awaited every outfit. And you were not disappointed! Every fit looked perfect with her adorable face, cute baby horns, and gorgeous curly hair. Honestly, if you hadn't gotten the job you did, you could have pursued fashion. 

She looked good in everything, and you had to make sure to get a few onesies and animal sweatshirts. There was a hoodie with cat ears that she particularly liked looking at—geez, it was just absolutely adorable. 

Even though Kohaku pissed you off, you still sent him a few pictures of his daughter that you were sure he'd appreciate. 

With the clothes bought and paid for, you went to a store and let Simat look around. She seemed to like playdough and legos. Then, when coming across the stuffies, her eyes sparked on the dragon and wolf. Of course, they were a must, so you bought three each. 

The Oni refused to let them pack it up, so she carried her Orc doll, one dragon, and one wolf stuffed toy. It was both adorable and funny how she carried around these massive toys with a blank look on her face. 

Another snap of a picture, saved and sent. 

Now that her part of the shopping was done, you decided to skip a few unimportant stores since you've already been shopping for so long. It helped that you rented out one of the children's push carts that have a fake car attached to the front so Simat could sit down when she got tired. 

Surprisingly, it was nice shopping with Simat, although her obedience and non-verbal speech made it easy. You wonder what it would be like having your own child by your side to shop with. They'd probably be rowdy, complaining about being bored and exhausted from being on their feet.

And now that you're thinking about it, you don't even see having kids in the future, at least with Rafe. He's a good man; he makes you happy, and your relationship is decent and healthy. But right now, you can't see that far in the future with Rafe. You wonder if it's because your ex-boyfriend suddenly showed up again after six years to stir up your old feelings. It's hard to forget your first love when that was the person you believed wholeheartedly was yours forever. 

But just like before, you'll have to let him go as he is only in your life again for a short while. 

When the music quieted down, you were surprised to hear Simat's stomach growl. She even looked down, embarrassed. You told her that you were going to buy whatever was in your hand, and then you'd both get something to eat. 

It was bustling in the food court with so many people talking and so much general noise. Holiday music was blaring through the speakers while the rings and dings that food was ready echoed out. 

There's just something you love about places that are filled with vigor. Thankfully, Simat didn't seem to mind either as she rode in her little fake car. You got her some chicken tenders and fries and something simple for yourself since you wanted room for dinner, considering you both were eating a little later. For a dessert, though, you did decide to buy some cinnamon pretzels. 

They've been your favorite snack since forever, something you always get whenever you're shopping at the mall.

Just like this morning, she seemed to wait until you started eating before digging it, but when she started eating, she didn't stop until it was empty. Again, she was even patting her full belly like earlier; geez, it was so cute!

Arrow to the heart!

A couple of times, Rafe tried to call, but you texted him that you were busy, and eventually, you just shut your phone to have some space from him. As much as you love him, you don't want to see him questioning if you're hanging out with other men while you're trying to enjoy the outing with Simat. 

Once you both were done, you looked around a little more until an hour or two passed by, and then you decided it was time to move. You drove to the general store and bought the actual necessities Simat would need while also getting groceries and more toys. She got a few bubble blowers and bath playthings before you called it quits. 

If you'd let her, she'd probably grab the entire bubble toy section. 

Now that everything was purchased, you began the drive home with her new booster seat. Only a few minutes into the drive, she had fallen asleep against the door. You had to wait until a stop to take a picture of her mouth open and arms draped by the side. 

You wonder if she felt safe enough to fall asleep in your presence. Most neglected children would probably stay awake for survival, so seeing her ease up like this was a blessing, 

For the rest of the drive, you took your time with the music calm and on low. Oddly enough, this has probably been one of the most gratifying off days you've had. It was peaceful and fun...something you've been missing from life for a while now. 

Pulling into the underground parking lot, you came to a stop and softly called out to the girl. She jolted awake quickly, blue and green eyes wide open as she assessed her surroundings before rapidly calming down and her expression resuming the usual blankness. 

"Hey, girl. Did you have a good nap?" She slowly nodded her head while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "We are back now, but if you are still sleepy, you can finish your nap when we get upstairs." With another nod, you both exited the vehicle, grabbed all the bags, and made your way to the elevator. 

With everything you got, it was actually cumbersome, but Mama ain't raise no b*tch, and you're going to take everything in one trip. "Press the button with the number 5." She studied the buttons for a second before clicking the right one and glancing up at you as though she were waiting for something. "Good job!" She nodded seriously. 

On your floor, you took a deep breath before picking everything up again, speed-walked down the hall, and took the corner before reaching your place at the end. You entered the security lock and your thumbprint and pushed it wide open to carry everything in. 

Quickly, you dropped everything down in the foyer and stood back to full height while shaking your arms. "Phew, my wrist." You complained softly before turning your attention to Simat, who stood silently by your side. "Alright, you can go watch TV while I put everything away. I'll start dinner after, and we'll eat together, okay?" 

With one of her nods, she takes her three giant dolls and walks over to the living room before doing a little hop to get on the bed. 

Now that you were preoccupied, you took your time putting away the groceries and necessities. With her clothes, you pulled out a couple of your collapsable bins and folded her clothes inside. It'll be in your room for now against the wall, so when she needs to change, everything will be right here. 

For dinner, you made loco moco, which should be easily digestible. And who doesn't like hamburgers, rice, a sunny-side-up egg, and brown gravy? Like before, she waited until you took your seat and took a bite first before eating. 

After this big plate, you honestly could go to sleep right then and there, but it was too early, and you didn't want to leave Simat alone. Her toys are all in the ottoman in the living room, so after washing dishes, you let her pull out the things she wanted and played along. Her obsession right now seemed to be the bubbles, so you stood around blowing them as she jumped around, trying to catch them. 

You even sent a video to Kohaku, who still had yet to see the images from earlier. He must be pretty preoccupied if he couldn't look at them yet. Hopefully, he answers when you put her to bed; it would be good if he showed consistency.

"Alright, Simat. It's bath time. Put your toys away, okay?" She nods, following your orders until the living room is clean again, and shuffles towards the bathroom, where you have already filled the tub with warm water and more soapy bubbles. 

Simat's hair texture and scalp didn't seem to need to be washed every day, though you'll scrub it again just for tonight, but this time with products that align with her hair type. All clean, you took her out and gave her a robe her size before traveling to the bedroom, where you pulled out a matching set of kitty pajamas. 

She changed while you cleaned up the bathroom and wiped water that fell out of the bath. When you checked the time, it had just hit eight p.m. At her age, she shouldn't go to sleep any later than nine, so you ushered her to her bed in the living room. 

It now looked more like it belonged to a child with her seven stuffed animals and pink fluffy blanket. "Simat, it's bedtime. Come lay down, and I'll try to call your father." You tell her, and she comes over to hop on the mattress and snuggle beneath the covers. 

Taking a deep breath, you called and hoped he answered for the sake of his daughter. However, it seems your prayers fell on deaf ears as it continued to ring and ring before ending when the call dropped. You tried again, and still, you received no response; it was just the automatic voicemail coming up. 

Now, you have to be the bearer of bad news. "I'm sorry, Simat-" Kohaku's number pops up on the screen, and you breathe a sigh of relief. "About time you answer!" 

He laughs on the line as you hear the sound of cracking and buzzing fading off in the distance. "Sorry, sorry, please don't rip my head off! I said I would try to answer, but I get even busier at night." 

"Doing what?" You challenge only to receive an awkward chuckle in response. Sighing, you lean back against the bed and speak. "Whatever, I don't wanna know. I'm going to hand over the phone to Simat." Without waiting for an answer, you give your phone to the girl, who holds it close with both hands. 

Geez, it looks so cute, arrow to the heart!

While the two 'talked, ' you got up and went to your room to grab a change of clothes and hair products for afterward. He seemed to be talking a lot, so you took a seat in your office and checked over your work emails. 

It appears everything has been running smoothly while you've been off. This is not a surprise, considering most get their act together for a holiday bonus at the office during the holidays. Less work meant less stress and less stress meant happier days and more off time. 

There's a soft knock on your door frame, and you look up to see Simat in the doorway with your phone in her hand. "Oh, are you done speaking with Daddy?" She nods and comes closer to hand over your phone. "Okay, go lay down, and I'll be there to tuck you in." 

You wait for her to be out of sight before raising your phone and asking, "Hello?" 

"Hey, it seems like you two had a good day." 

"Yeah, did you get a chance to look at the pictures and stuff I sent?" You ask and lean back in your swivel chair. 

"I did!" He responds with a slight laugh. There's a flicking sound, something you recognized as the flicking open of a zippo lighter. "I saw you cut and did her hair; it looks really good. Also, she looked so cute in the Christmas dress. Try to have her wear that during the holiday." 

A smile plays on your lips while you shake your head. "She looked so cute in everything else, too. It seemed like she really liked clothes with cat or dog ears that she could play with. For Christmas, you should get her some Legos, probably a medieval castle with a dragon. She seems fascinated with dragons and wolves." 

"I love that. She's creative!" 

You hate the way you can practically hear and see his smile from his voice. It brings about that nostalgia and deep yearning you've been pushing down. "Do you want to hear about our day?"

"Of course, I'm surprised you even asked." 

B*stard, you wish he was just an asshole so you didn't feel this way. But right now, all you can do is keep it in the back of your head, as this is not permanent. In a few months, both of them will gone, and you'll never see them again. 

So, you told him everything about the day, starting with breakfast and the little things you noticed all the way down to her snuggling up in bed and eagerly awaiting to hear from her father. You wanted him to know everything that you've observed so it would be easier for him to understand and take care of her. 

Switching dominant guardians would probably be stressful, but hopefully, it'll be easy for her to assimilate to the change. 

"And that's everything. I'm off tomorrow and the next day, so if you're going to come over, give me a heads-up so I can make food or something." You murmur while playing with the ends of your hair. 

"I got sh*t to do tomorrow, but the next day, I'll definitely come by. It will probably be later in the afternoon, so have some mochi crunch ready for me to pound." 

"For real?" You question while rising from your seat. "You're going to bloat up eating all that soy. Do you really want to scare your daughter by turning into a mush monster?" 

He gasps on the line and murmurs something in Japanese that you cannot hear. "First of all, you need not to be so judgmental, you judgmental b*tch. People get canceled over things like that. Second of all, I ain't hearing sh*t from you, who eats like two bags of hot Cheetos a week."

After all these years, he can still joke like it were just the two of you again, sitting at the small theater and making a fool himself. It makes sense; everyone always wanted to be his friend with his high charisma and colorful humor. 

It makes sense why he couldn't be yours forever. A man like that belongs to others, not to a small-town girl like you. "Whatever. I need to take a shower, so I'm hanging up now. Just be aware I'll be calling you every night at eight because I don't want her going to bed too late." 

"Got it—good night (Y/n). And thanks again for taking care of her. You've always been good at taking care of other people. I just know you're going to fill her with every bit of love and joy you bring. People have always liked coming to you to feel better." 

There's that warmth again in your belly, that little sting that both hurts and feels good. You both want him to get out of your life and stay. 

"Goodnight." Is all you could muster before ending the call and exhaling a deep breath. For now, you don't want to think about him anymore. "Did I take too long?" You ask the little Oni as you come over to the couch. 

She shook her head sluggishly, proving her point wrong as she struggled to stay awake. With a small smile, you tuck her in and lay her stuffies by her side as she snuggles the Orc one. "Goodnight, Simat. Sweet dreams. I'll come wake you in the morning, and we'll have some bacon and eggs, okay?" 

Simat doesn't nod this time; however, you do see the faintest smile on her lips when the TV screen flashes brightly. 

Arrow to the heart! 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The following day, you two stayed in your robes and ate breakfast together before lying in her bed together. With the rain wreaking havoc on the outside, you both decided to stay in and pass the day on.

She seemed to want to watch the Dragon Ball movies, so you had a marathon all day with candies and fruits in the living room. Of course, you made sure to fill her in on the lore since there was so much that happened throughout the series that she was not aware of. 

When there are things that catch her interest, she becomes consumed by them, having to indulge in all forms of content before letting it go. It kind of reminds you of yourself and your unhealthy obsession with certain books when you were younger—some of the worst and best times of your life. 

For lunch, you had hot dogs and chips before watching some more, and for dinner, it consisted of smoked pork and green beans. The cycle repeated as you played a little bit longer before she showered and lay down to talk to her father. 

This time, he thankfully answered on the first ring, and two could talk. When they were done, she handed the phone right back to you, only for Kohaku to ask how your day was again. You both spoke for a little bit before you ended the call and tucked Simat in. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

It was the day when your ex-boyfriend would be coming over, and you couldn't stop the anxiety you were feeling...nor the excitement of seeing him. So wrong; it was wrong for you to feel like for another man while you were in a relationship. 

But it's fleeting, it should be. 

Today, you both ate some cereal and changed into different clothes. It was not raining, but heavy gloomy clouds remained, so you decided to take Simat out to an arcade. Her blue and green eyes had sparked in the flashing lights of the game room, and you could for once see her excitement. 

Whatever she wanted to play, she got it, and when you played air hockey with her, she just kept beating you. It made no sense; you used to be the undefeated champion?! Even Kohaku fell to your power; it was absolutely unbelievable. 

She ate your a** up in almost every other competitive game; at some point, you just had to let her go off and play the games herself. Eventually, it was a little past one, and you wanted to be back before her father arrived, so you brought her to the reward section and let her get whatever she wanted. 

An arrow stuck you in the heart when she bought matching mood rings and gave you one. 

The drive back was peaceful, and when you arrived at your apartment, you were surprised to see Kohaku leaning against your door as he scrolled on his phone.

"Hey, you pig." You call out and start approaching him. "I thought I said to give me a heads-up. It's gonna make me look suspicious if some emo creep hangs around my front door." 

Kokahu fakes an injury as he holds a hand to his heart and swings a plastic bag by his side. "I'm hurt. How can you get even prettier but meaner as the time goes by." He whines. "I even brought you your favorite dessert from the bakery back home, and this is how you treat me?" 

Damn, now you feel like sh*t and bashful from his compliment. His stupid a** continues to be such a smooth talker, and he doesn't even realize the effects they are having on you. 

"Whatever." You mumble and enter your password, making sure to cover it from prying eyes before opening the door and letting everyone in. 

Simat heads in first and goes straight to her bed, where she tries to grab all her stuffies and brings them over to her dad to see. "Wow, what is all this?" He exclaims and kneels, only for her to shove them into his arms. 

"I told you, she has an obsession with dragons and wolves." You respond while placing her arcade bag down on the coffee table. 

"Did they not have any Oni stuffies?" he asks, coming closer so he can collapse on the couch bed. 

You turned to him with an expression as though you couldn't believe the dense sh*t that came out of his mouth. "Are you dumb? Have you seen the Oni stuffies they sell? It'll give her nightmares!" 

Kohaku only mocks you, clicking his tongue and smacking his lips as he looks away. 

"Simat, why don't you take out your bubbles, and your daddy can set up the automatic one?" She nodded enthusiastically before removing the ottoman's top and all her bubble toys and devices. 

With those two busy, you get out the snacks and make them a tray, placing them down on the nightstand before returning to the kitchen to start dinner. 

The two seemed to get along; it was easy for Kohaku to get along with anyone. He was also the one the kids always liked, no matter their sass or attitude. 

Simat is in good hands; she probably won the game by getting him as her father. He'd honestly spoil her so rotten that you're going to have to instill gratefulness into her so she doesn't get a nasty attitude later on. 

For today's menu, there were buttered noodles and shrimp with a side of fresh Cezar salad. Wait...you don't know if Simat likes seafood or is allergic to it. "Hey, Kohaku." 

The man hums before you hear him shift and make his way over. "What is it?" When you look up, you have to stop yourself from audibly gasping. He took off his leather jacket and shirt, leaving him in a black tank top and jeans. 

His arms have grown to a much larger and sculpted shape, not to mention the wiggly veins that protrude against his pale skin. He's always been fit and attractive, but he seemed to have gone through a second growth spurt, and he exerts masculinity right in front of you. 

"Uh. What was I saying..." You state out loud before shaking your head and returning your gaze to the pot. "Oh, right. Did her mom say anything about allergies, like seafood? I'm making butter noodles with shrimp, but I don't know if she's allergic." 

He shakes his head while stepping forward and leaning over the pot. "No, not from what I'm aware. And I've got to say, I really missed your cooking. My dad still nags me about getting some beef stew that he had last time all those years ago." 

Your heart skips a beat, and blood rushes to your face as you focus on cleaning the shrimp. "Well, nothing beats a home-cooked meal, and your dad could never cook for sh*t." A laugh rings out from your lips from just the memory. 

Staying over at his dad's place on the farm always resulted in you and Kohaku secretly feeding the dogs whatever his father made. It was nearly unedible that only an animal could genuinely eat. Because of that, you'd go up to his room later and snack on all the treats you hid in the mini-fridge. 

The thoughts bring about nostalgia, but you quickly push it away when you feel that bubbling pressure in your chest.

What the hell? Why do you want to cry? Why do you still care? Why doesn't he care like you do? 

"Anyway, uh, that's all I had to ask. You can go back to playing with her." You mumbled and waved one of your dirty hands at the exit of the kitchen. 

"You sure?" Kohaku inquires while taking a step forward. "I can help, you know." 

Why does he have to be so nice!? No one told him he had to be so considerate; no one told him he had to make up for obliterating your heart. "No, Kohaku. I already said you can go back. You didn't come here to hang out with me, so don't waste your time." You didn't mean for attitude to spill from your lips, yet the building anger at yourself was unleashed on him. 

He doesn't say anything, but you can feel his gaze following your movement as you take the tray of shrimp to the sink to clean. No way could you face him at this moment; the embarrassment mortified you, and it would literally kill you to see him giving you a pitiful expression. 

How pathetic it must be when he can see that you still care so much about him. 

"Just give me a holler if you need anything." He responds after a moment of silence, and you only hum back. 

His footsteps fade, and only once you hear his voice faintly from the living room do you allow yourself to turn and face the spot he was standing in. 

Dammit, he fell out of love while you never left. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Alright, everyone, wash your hands and come to the dinner table!" You inform them while plating their dishes in your fancy bowls. 

Kohaku says something before you hear little fit pitter-patter against the wooden floors as though she were running. He's quick to follow behind, laughing slightly until you hear him praise her as they reach the bathroom. 

Carrying their food, you place them down on the table and return to pour them glasses of water. This feeling of domestication riddles through your brain, igniting flares of satisfaction from within. You've always been a giver and a provider, and doing exactly so scratches a burning itch. 

"Look at this!" Kohaku exclaims while entering the dining room, carrying Simat on his hip. "No one cooks as good as (Y/n). I swear, you are so lucky you get to her food every day." While he speaks, he reaches over to pinch her little chubby cheeks. 

"You're a grown man. You can make your own food." You murmur as you leave to place the pitcher of water back in the fridge. 

"What a killjoy!" He shouts before saying something inaudible to his daughter. 

Now that everything is ready, you grab your own bowls of food and return to eat with them. As you approach, you hear his usual 'itadakimasu' and almost trip over your own feet. In that moment, you could practically be transferred right back into the past.

This is eating you up alive... You're not going to be able to last before you die again of a broken heart. 

It took you a moment and a few deep breaths until you could return and settle down. By then, he was already halfway through his food, chowing down like a pig, with his heterochromatic eyes twinkling in enjoyment. 

He suddenly burps loudly and apologizes before turning to face his daughter and pointing his chopsticks at her. "Why aren't you eating? Do you not like it?" 

"She does this often," you say, your attention on your bowl as you prepare your own pair and start collecting the noodles. "She only starts eating after I take the first bite." 

Kohaku's gaze settles on your body, but you don't say anything anymore before taking a bite and chewing. Now, Simat follows and splits her chopsticks before eating, too. 

"You're cute, Simat." The older Oni states as he reaches over to swipe a small piece of garlic from her face. 

The girl blinks, almost looking stunned, even if her expression remains neutral, and it breaks a smile on your face. "She is, very much so." 

Nothing more is said as everyone continues to eat. Kohaku went back for seconds and made an even bigger bowl than what you made initially, but you're not going to complain. It's better he eats it all than letting it rot in the fridge before you throw it out. 

A sudden ringing from your room grabs your attention, and you realize you are getting a phone call. "Oh, I'll be right back," you murmur and shift to get up and make your way down the hall. 

However, your eyes nearly widen when you realize it is Rafe calling. "Shit." You had been so preoccupied with Simat that you hadn't been in contact with him at all this whole time. 

"Hello?" You answered and quietly shut your door for privacy. 

"Hello? Hello!? Babe, how can you not talk to me for two days straight? Not even just a quick text goodnight or good morning!?" 

He had every right to be mad because it took minimal effort to stay in contact and let him know you were still alive. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've just been so busy, you know-" 

"With what!?" He snaps, and you nearly recoil from his blaring tone. "You don't work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, so what the hell have you been doing? 

There's a lump in your throat that nearly chokes you dead. "First of all, watch your tone when you talk to me. I already apologized for not staying in contact. Second of all, if I'm busy, then I'm busy. It's the holiday, I still haven't bought any presents, and I still need to help management prepare for the office party. Just because it was my off days doesn't mean I hadn't work to do." Straight lying through your teeth, you swear you could have been struck down for such a vice. 

Though you weren't wrong, there were still things you needed to do...you just haven't gotten to them yet. 

"And that warranted not even a text? You know what, I'm coming over. We need to talk face to face." Your breath hitches, and alarmed 'no!' comes from your lips without your will. 

"I-I'm not going to see you when you're pissed off. You know you say things you don't mean when you're angry, and I'm going to take that right now. I'm really sorry for not keeping in contact, and I'll do better. I'm in the middle of eating, so don't talk to me until you've calmed down and thought thoroughly about what you want to say." 

You don't wait for him to respond and hang up. A sigh expells deep from within your lungs as you collapse on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. Rafe was not entirely in the wrong; you could have done better. It does make you feel awful keeping this from him; you've never been one to carry such big secrets. 

If he were just more understanding, you could let him in, and he could even help if he really wanted. But if you think about it, if one of his ex-girlfriends dropped off their kid, who wasn't even related to Rafe, and told him to care for them, you don't know how you'd feel. 

"Ugh!" You're an awful person; everything you've been doing is just reinforcing that. You're in a relationship, yet you're letting these past feelings for an ex affect you! It's not right; it was never right.

You should have slammed that door in his face the minute you saw him. You should have left him alone to deal with his own responsibility. You should have gotten rid of these feelings a long time ago before moving on and getting with a different person. 

But you thought you had. You spent years working on yourself and your career, getting to the point where you didn't need a man in your life to be there for you. In the time being, you went on a few dates here and there, but when you really felt ready, you settled down with Rafe. 

No more, you don't even want to think of this anymore. For now, you just need to handle this. It's only a month or two more, and then they're both gone. 

At this point, your stomach is queasy from the mess inside your head, and you're no longer hungry. You return only to grab your bowls and dump the remaining food. Simat was still finishing what little remained, so you began washing the dishes and attempting to busy yourself. 

Work starts tomorrow, and you have to go in early. Once you finish this, you'll have to call the nursery school or a pre-k so they can watch Simat while you are at work. You'll have to explain some circumstances, but overall, most daycare workers are understanding and accommodating, so you shouldn't have much to worry about. 

Hopefully, Simat will be okay. It's probably too early for her to make friends when she's still opening up to you and her father. However, the environment would most likely do her some good, and she can see how children her age act with one another. 

"Thank you for the meal!" Kohaku beams as he steps into the kitchen to hand you their empty dishes. 

You only hum in response and continue what you are doing. The Oni sighs, and in your peripheral, you see him lean against the counter. "Is everything okay? You've been kind off since-" 

"Since what?" You interject and finally turn your head to meet his beautiful gaze. "I'm busy taking care of your responsibility and trying to make sure your daughter gets everything she needs while you're off doing god(s) knows what." He didn't deserve your anger; all that is happening is your own Karma. Nevertheless, you just need him to stop this good guy act at this point. Receiving his kindness just makes it harder to move on. 

A pathetic laugh makes its way from your lips as you shake your head. "Honestly, you show up at my door in the middle of the night after no contact for six years just to drop off a kid from the relationship you left me for. How ironic is that?" Another laugh echoes out from the sheer audacity. "It's so ludicrous that I can't even believe I let you just walk all over me like that. Am I just a joke to you?" 

"What!?" He exclaims and shakes his head while standing straight up. "Of course not. I-" 

"Not a joke, yet you treated our relationship the way you did once you went to college?" Your interjection silences whatever words are on his lips as he looks away to bite his lips. 

Shutting off the water, you begin drying your hands on a dish towel and keeping your gaze away. "It's whatever. You fell out of love, right? I wasn't what you wanted, and that's just the way life is. But I will never forget the feeling of not being enough. And you're only making it worse by pitying me and trying to make up for how you did me so dirty." 

Finally, you turn and face him, standing right in front of him and craning your neck to stare into his beautiful eyes. "I'm your ex. You're my ex. You're not obligated to do anything for me." 

"I just... can't." He murmurs with a frown. "Before we were even in a relationship, we were best friends." 

With a scornful laugh, you find yourself at your limit. Shaking your head, you step past him, only stop midway and turn back. "We're not friends now and will never be again. Get that through your head." 

You don't let him say anymore, leaving him in his spot as you make your way to your office and shut the door.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

You stayed in your office working on backed-up drafts and clearing fallen deals for the rest of the night. The two continued to play for a while until you got up, only to open the door and yell down the hall that he needed to bathe her.

He's a grown man; he should know how to bathe his own daughter so you can just leave them be. While you worked, they seemed to spend a long time in there before you heard their feet padding across the floor back towards the living room. 

You're not sure how much time had passed before there was a knock at the door that spurred you to jump in surprise. Sighing, you mumbled a 'come in' or something along those lines as you resumed reading the documents on your screen. 

The door parts slowly, and from your peripheral, you see Kohaku sticking his head in as he takes in the appearance of that room. "I just put Simat to bed, so I'm gonna get going." 

"Okay. You can show yourself." You reply without giving him your full attention. 

He remains still as though there is still something left on his tongue. And you were right as you heard him take a deep breath and open his mouth. "I'm sorry-"

"F*ckin A." You sneer and snap your head to face him. "Is that all you know what to say? Your head f*ckin broken? Can't come up with anything other than useless, thoughtless apologies? Just shut up and leave." 

Those words hit the nail on the head as he suddenly nods his head and runs a hand through his black and white hair. "...You're right." That is all he says as he turns and begins walking away. 

You sit stagnant, listening to his fading footsteps before the front door opens and shuts quickly with a faint click. 

Alone, you finally break down, and a sob stuck in your throat finally pours out in strained waves. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The following day, you got ready for work and made breakfast for the both of you. While dressing her up for the day and packing her bag with snacks and her toys, you explained what was going on. She seemed to understand, but you made sure to tell her everything about how the day was going to go. 

With a nice drive, you took her to the daycare and talked with the lady there a little bit to remind them of Simat's unique qualities. She seemed genuine, so you gave the little Oni a big hug and told her to be a good girl before leaving for work. 

Everything was normal; it went by with the usual minor annoyances here and picking up the slack of your department. Half of them usually get so lazy during the holidays, and the other half works their finger to the bone to get that second Christmas bonus. 

As you busied yourself, you couldn't help the little anxiety in your heart. You worried about Simat and hoped she was doing well. If anything happened to her, you would go off; it doesn't matter if they're just kids. There is this intense desire to protect her even though she is not yours. It's surprising how easily you grew attached to her, but then again, she is just a little girl.

Honestly, you couldn't wait to pick her up, but of course, someone messed up an insurance deal, and you had to stay behind to fix it. You're the unit supervisor; this should be designated to someone else, but they're all incompetent. 

Once you finished it, you were out the door. People were trying to talk to you, yet you ignored them as you rushed to your car and sped towards the nursery. You were at least an hour later than what you promised, and I hope she was not resentful. 

When you arrived, you threw the car in park at the front and rushed to get inside. Glancing around, you tried to find Simat, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

"Ms. (L/n)?" 

Your head whipped around to see the worker from earlier. "Hello! I'm sorry I'm late. I was pushed into overtime." Words spill out of your mouth as you attempt to calm yourself. 

The young lady only nods in an understanding manner. "It's no worries; most parents usually end up working later than expected. Follow me. Simat's been waiting eagerly for you." She expresses and waves an arm in an indication to follow her. 

Leading over to another space, you see it's a small room with desk put together where some kids are coloring. In the corner, Simat sat by herself with her head down as she played with her Orc doll. Even though her face always remained in the usual neutral expression, her sagging shoulders and low gaze felt close to melancholy. 

Quietly, with soft steps, you strode up to her from behind before kneeling carefully in your work skirt. "What are you playing?" As soon as she hears your voice, her entire body perks up. Her head snaps in your direction with a slight glimmer of tears glossing over in her colorful iris'.

Unexpectedly, her little hands drop her favorite doll to reach forward and grasp the front of your button-up and conceal her face in your chest. You hadn't expected such a reaction, nor did you think she'd display an expressive depiction of emotion. "Simmy, did you think I abandoned you?" She nods after a moment of hesitation, which strikes you right in the heart. 

Softly grasping her shoulders, you pull her back so you can look into those icy blue and line green eyes. Tears are staining her tan cheeks, which you wipe away softly. "I would never. I have you, and you have me. I'm not going anywhere. Now, let's go home and make something to eat, okay?" 

Rubbing her tiny fist against her eyes, she takes a deep breath, nods, and turns back to grab her pink bag and doll before returning to you. She even holds your hand without you asking, squeezing tightly as though she were afraid you'd slip away. 

How are you going to be able to let her go when the time comes? 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Through a consistent cycle, you continue to care for Simat, with her father calling every night before she goes to bed. Every two days, he shows up to see her while you maintain your distance. Sometimes, he takes her out to the arcade or ice skating, which you know does wonders for her development. 

You can see the evolution of her opening up and expressing herself without constraint. She conveys her dislikes more without fear and actively does her own thing without having to be told to. You didn't think you could be so proud of a child that was not yours, but here you are. 

Still, she has yet to speak, which had you severely worried, but the daycare tried to explain some situations to you. From Sim's early childhood, she went through a lot of neglect and stress, which probably formed a health condition called SM, Selective Mutism. It's an anxiety disorder that were affecting her verbal ability to communicate in regular or social situations. 

There were many paths you could take to help her: mental health therapy, speech therapy, or even medication if it comes down to it. At her age, you'd really like to stay away from medicating her, so it will only be acknowledged in a desperate need. 

For now, you and Kohaku agreed to continue what you have been doing and assimilate her into a healthy dynamic. After a few months, she'll go back with him, and then he'll take his daughter to get her recommendations for mental health and speech therapy. As much as you'd like to give her the proper treatment now, it would be best for her to participate in it when she can be in a more permanent environment. 

This is only temporary, but the effects you have on her, as well as the effects she has on you, will become permanent. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

November passed, and most of December did before it finally became Christmas Eve. You had your work party, and luckily, it was on the day Kohaku came over. And because it was the holiday, he agreed to sleep over for Christmas.  

Currently, the two were outside playing in the snow. You can see them from your window as you peek to check up on them. 

Three snowmen are built: a little one, another slightly bigger, and a humongous one. The small one has the oversized pink sweater she wore when she first showed up. The middle one has a giant smile and a huge heart drawn over the middle. The biggest one was wearing Kohaku's leather jacket, which slightly sagged on its stick arms. 

Snow continued to fall and build up in the yard; you could practically hear the crunch of it beneath their feet. Simat suddenly fell back, staring up at the clouded grey sky that began to grow dark with the passing of the afternoon. You can see her breath in the air, the cold whisp drifting as she breathed out. 

Kohaku smiled as he came over to pat her face and collapse next to her lightly. He said something you couldn't hear before moving his arms and legs, which his daughter mimicked. They both stood up together and took a step back to look over the snow angels they made. 

Someday, you'd like to be down there and play along as the cold numbs the tips of your fingers and burns the surface of your face. But your place isn't by their side, and very slowly, you are coming around to accept. 

You're almost done getting ready for the party, finished with your hair and makeup, and are now just waiting for Rafe to come pick you up, as he is your plus one. Leaving your spot from the window, you make your way to the kitchen, where you fill a kettle with water and place it on the burner. 

Checking the oven, dinner is almost done; it should be ready a little after you depart. You're not worried about leaving the two alone while you're out; they'll be fine. After all, you're not part of their family. 

The front door clicks and unlocks as you hear the sound of Kohaku's voice. Then the kettle started screaming, steam spewing out of the spout in rapid waves. Grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, you shake the hot chocolate packets first before pouring a little milk and then the boiling water. 

A cacophony of sounds blares from the TV, as it sounds like they resumed their Christmas movie from earlier. Your phone from the bathroom starts to ring, so you quickly place spoons in the mugs and bring them over to the two. "Here," you mumble, placing them down on the coffee table before wiping your hands on the sides of your pants and vacating down the hall. 

Answering the phone with a hello, you hear Rafe's voice on the other line. "Hey, I'm about five minutes away. Should I park downstairs or in the front?"

"In the front. I just have to put on my dress." You respond while entering your bedroom. "Love you, be safe." 

"Of course, love you too." 

The dress for the occasion was a red satin dress, strapless, with a tight-fitting corset that snatched in your waist. You wore a pair of mesh sleeves that reached your upper bicep with white fluff around the band. With a slit on the right side, it was slightly provocative but appealing to show the shape of your leg. Because of its wide flair and slightly long train, you needed to wear a pair of high heels. 

To be honest, you felt overdressed, but there are not many events that you go to where you can really dress up and make yourself feel like a pretty princess. Dress on, makeup set, and hair done; the only thing that is left is to grab your matching clutch purse and your keys. 

"Alright, I'm going. Try not to stay up too late or burn my place down." At the sound of your approaching voice, Kohaku and Simat turned their heads from the movie to face you. Simmy's eyes twinkled, gleaming in the light as she sat up straighter. 

"Wow, gorgeous as ever." The older Oni praised and rested his head against his fist with a smile that showed off his fangs. "Is this prom? Do I need to walk you out to your date and make sure he brings you home at an appropriate time?

Your jaw clenches, and it takes everything in you to eat the words that nearly spewed from your lips unapologetically. It's so funny how he mentions prom when he gave you that promise ring and made a vow to marry you when things settled. 

How naive you were to believe it all. 

Instead of replying, you step forward to kiss Simmy's forehead and tell her goodbye before leaving and locking the door with the passcode and fingerprint. 

You take your time going to the elevator and traveling down, and right as you arrive at the lobby, you see Rafe's vehicle pull up. 

When you got in, Rafe did a double take. He smiled and leaned back in his seat. "Who are you dressing to impress?" 

"Can't I just dress up for myself?" You inquire with a teasing smile. "I practically planned the entire party myself; I deserve to enjoy it. '

With a nod of his head, your boyfriend placed a hand on your thigh and began to drive towards the office. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

At a party, regardless of whether it's work-related or not, there's obviously going to be alcohol. You tried to stay away, but it teased you with its fuzzy taste and mind-numbing burn. A lot is going on in your life, including a lot of pain and inner turmoil that you have no outlet for. 

The source of it dwindles in your home, marking everything with their presence. The bed smells of her, and the air reeks of his cologne. Her hair products lay about in the bathroom; his clothes hide in the closet, obscured but there. 

Their shoes sit right there by the door; muddy snow melted on wooden floors. When they leave, getting rid of everything that belonged to them doesn't remove the memories engraved in that place. 

Really, what did you do to deserve this pain? Hadn't you suffered enough? 

Your head is dizzy; your coordination is off, as though you were out at sea. Everyone at the party was enjoying themselves, with faces red and flushed or lighter and hot. Rafe is somewhere, off in some corner, gambling while playing pool. 

Everything tastes the same: the champagne you downed and the water you sipped—it all tastes like bitter resentment. 

"Shouldn't the supervisor who planned the party be enjoying it?" You're barely able to turn your head to see one of your co-workers and fellow supervisor approaching. 

He was at least a decade older than you, with age lines slightly forming around his slim nose. His hair was dark and slicked back, a single stray over his forehead that contrasted against the bright lights of his blue eyes. While others wore ugly Christmas sweaters, Reno refused to wear anything other than his tailored black suit and red satin tie. 

"I'm enjoying it." You hold in a burp and swallow it down. "Don't you see all my drinks?" With gestures at the table, the focus is on the multiple cocktail glasses and stacked shot glasses.

Reno pushed his thin glasses higher up his nose while stepping on the footrest and lifting himself to sit in the high bar chair. "That many drinks are a prescription for a broken heart, supervisor." 

You scowl, twisting your face into a scornful expression. "What you know about a broken heart? You married your high school sweetheart." The words burn worse than whiskey down the throat. "Both of you went to prep school in this big a** city but still married each other." Your pettiness comes forward in full sight as your grip grows tighter on your half-drunken glass. "I hate you and your happy little relationship. Get out of my face." 

Unit one's supervisor laughs in the throat, his gaze shifting to the window. Even this late at night, the city doesn't sleep. Lights blare and flash, horns blare and whine, and people still walk out, even with the snow amassing on the sidewalk. "Everyone is lucky you're a professional, and do not let your emotions affect your work performance." His response sounded so bureaucratic that it only worsened your mood. 

"You are literally the worst person to talk about relationship problems with. I need someone from the streets." Your drunken blunder earns a faint chuckle as the older man reaches for a drink. 

He swirled the burgundy liquid around in the Pinot Noir-shaped glass before shifting to face you. "Whether it is someone with expressive slang or not, we'd presumably provide the same advice." With a reserved sip, he drank from his wine with poise. "Whatever troubles you, the most responsible thing is to confront it head-on. Do not dwell in it, do not prolong it, do not tell yourself that if you just wait it out, things will get better." 

Vibrations from the holiday music rumble beneath your chair, tingling your toes alongside the alcohol buzzing in your veins. How comical it was when he knew nothing of what you were experiencing but nearly hit the mark. 

His simple words somewhat calmed your mind, even managing to get you to sit up and release the glass you had been nursing. "Was Cora your first love?"

Reno licked his lip slightly before setting down his drink. "Actually, no. I had only engaged with my wife a few years after my first love and I became estranged." 

That surprised you as everyone always thought Cora was his first love, considering their dedication to each other. "Do you still think of your first love?"

"Ah, I see where this is going." The supervisor declared with a knowing grin. "I will recount my feelings; however, there is a likelihood that you will hear remarks that do more harm than good." You just wave off his concerns and usher him to continue. With a sigh, he glanced down at his left hand and twiddled with the wedding ring.

"Experiencing your first love is something that no one prepares you for. They do not tell you about the overwhelming emotions or passionate romanticization of every little thing. There is no time to ready your hearts that become utterly consumed by one another. I experienced that firsthand with a young woman at prep named Wilhelmina. A lovely girl connected with a duke in Europe, but even without the knowledge of knowing she harbored royal blood, it would not be far-fetched to think she was a princess. Everything about her was dignified, married with elegance and grace. Many men competed for her hand, and of course, I was one among them." 

You laugh and drunkenly shake your head. "Why am I not surprised that you had relationships with an actual princess? You truly are a man from a different social class than me." 

"Yet we both partake in the same profession," He praises with a raise of his wine glass. "As I was saying, I was attracted to her physical appearance, yes. She was a gorgeous woman; even to this day, many could not even compare. Regardless, her brilliance and compassion outshined all. She was a woman who was all-consuming, and I mean that in the best possible way. Mina treasured knowledge and fell into deep fixation when researching or reading. I was particularly fond of her many tirades when she denounced any bias encountered in educational texts. Very passionate, I must add." 

You narrow your eyes and pucker your lips. "This is all sounding too rich for me. Get to the part where she broke your heart."

Reno scrunched his nose. "I suppose you only have forbearance during work hours." 

"I'm drunk and suffering. What do you expect from me?" You remark, which yields a hum from the older man. 

"Touché, demoiselle. Alright, to the crucial details. Together, our relationship was fiery and passionate. And when I look back at it, I realize it was significantly unhealthy. We became each other's will to live. Life devolved into a diminutive, secluded bubble that others could not penetrate. Every waking moment, we were together, sharing and experiencing the first of certain situations with the other. Many nights, we spoke of what our future would be like, and at the time, neither one of us could fathom a separation. We planned to marry after graduation and move to the Netherlands, where we would live a simple life with a child or two and grow old together. It was idealistic and hopelessly romantic, but to this day, I will never be able to forget that devotion. Nothing I have experienced at this age has even compared. However, it was that strong passion that ended our relationship." 

"What...?" You expel with a harsh gasp. "You broke up for what!?" 

Reno smiled like a parent with a secret they won't tell you. "The connections we shared were strong, overpowering, but unforgettable. I loved her with everything I had to offer, and she reciprocated that fact, if not pouring even more than I did into our relationship. Perhaps that was when the fire of our devotion fizzled out for me while hers burned even brighter, hotter. Mentally, I struggled to maintain a rhythm at her pace and found myself overwhelmed by the fissures forming. No matter how fast I ran or how long I jogged, I couldn't arrive at the same destinations alongside her anymore. Things changed, feelings changed, and I knew that the responsible thing was to confront her and end the relationship." 

Your mouth is dry as the tips of your fingers tingle. "F*ckin A, that's now what I expected. Hey!" You waved over attendance and snatched a shot from her tray before quickly downing it like water. "I wanted your heart shattered! I wanted your heart stepped on and kicked over and utterly obliterated. I hate you men who just fall out of love like it's nothing!" You attempt to grab another shot, but Reno grasps your wrist to stop any movement. 

"Go on ahead." He informs the attendant, who quickly departed from your area. Alone, he lowers your wrist to the table and inhales a deep breath like he couldn't catch a break. "I never fell out of love with Wilhelmina. I still loved her, but what we had could not be maintained. I still love her passion; I still treasure her smile, and I still adore her covetousness for knowledge. I still love that woman, but not in the same manner as before. I was too immature to understand when and where to implement boundaries. I was too young to comprehend that a relationship should not be so obsessive. Wilhelmina and I had loved to live when we should have lived to love. It was not until I spent the years working on myself and maturing that I realized the validity of that statement. Engaging with Cora was not out of necessity or compulsion. I did not need to be with her always or see her constantly. I invited her out for excursions when I wanted to, when I was free. I did not need to ignore my duties and cast aside all responsibilities just because I could not handle being away from her for one second. We took things slow and at our own pace that people often thought we were not together. But it was good for us; we both gave fifty, fifty. Now we've been wedded for nearly fifteen years with not a single lingering issue." 

You've never thought of it at that angle, only burning with wrath from your own overbearing emotions. Wilhelmina sounds just like you; you're relating on a personal level without ever meeting her. The fire of your devotion to Kohaku was so bright that it must have been blinding. It must have been all-consuming, burning away everything that made him who he was. 

Now you understand. You were a flame, small at first, but with all that Kohaku poured into the relationship, into you, you grew into a blaze. You took his kindling without even knowing, consuming his fuel until he could no longer manage his own fire. While your flare evolved into an intense and raging inferno, Kohaku's had extinguished, smothered, with nothing but ashes remaining. 

He did everything and gave you everything to such an extent that the inferno inside of you still burns to this day. 

"I still think of her every once in a while." Reno's voice cuts through your thoughts as your eyes rise from the table. His head faced the window, staring back out at the snowy night sky. "We have remained in contact after all these years, providing updates here and there when we can. Of course, I do lament the way I shattered her heart at the time, but we both agreed that it was the best decision I could have made. Where we are in life currently is everything we could have wanted. It's a shame that such intense flames have become extinguished, but what we love now is a part of our lives, not our entire lives." 

You can only stare at him, tears glossing over and a sting forming in the corner of your eyes. Perhaps this is precisely what you've needed to hear. After the breakup, you cried only once, letting everything out, then buried deep down in a cavern where everything was cold and frozen. You did not heal or express your pain to anyone. So, it formulated into resentment as the years went by, and you could no longer see it rationally, only emotionally. 

For once, you see things clearly and understand what you must do. 

"I guess I didn't need the streets to learn this lesson." You joke softly, attempting to lighten the mood so you do not wail audibly in front of your co-workers and bosses. 

Reno reaches forward, his warm hands settling over your hands to stop tremors you didn't even know that you were experiencing. "You are a good woman, (Y/n). Whatever had transpired in the past is not anyone's fault. Things just worked out the way they did, and you should not blame yourself or your past partner. There doesn't need to be any more blame, just healing." His grip tightened the slightest when you breathed out a trembling exhale. "That man, Rafe(?) I can tell that you hold back with him. Do not try to pacify your flames, (Y/n). Either you share the burdens together or end it responsibly, but it is only advice. Do whatever you need to do." 

Sharing a moment of silence, you both sat there while staring out the wall of windows. The flurries continued to collect on the ground, though it had yet to stop the traffic. Life went on, and life progressed. 

"Now!" Reno had patted your hands before reaching over to his pants and removing his car keys. "Are you in need of a ride, or will you leave along with your date?" 

You didn't answer at first, letting your gaze fall into the distance in the room where Rafe was located. He was enjoying himself, laughing and drinking. He was letting loose, finally releasing all the built-up stress you were causing to accumulate with your lies and hidden secrets. 

"Could I trouble you, good sir, for a ride?" You tease with the first smile you've had all night. 

Reno shared that grin and stood off his seat to offer his elbow while gesturing towards it. "No trouble at all, demoiselle." He remarks in the same joking manner. 

Drunkenly, you wrap your arm around his elbow and allow him to guide you toward the elevator that leads down to the parking lot. Surprisingly, you were aware enough to text Rafe that you were leaving because you didn't feel good. He'd probably not take that too well and be angry with you in the morning, but it's better than nothing. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Your heels hang from your fingers as you shuffle down the hall. Your skin is hot, still burning from the alcohol, so the cool tiled floor alleviates some of that heat. Finally, you reach your door and have to rest your forehead against the wooden partition to steady your coordination. 

When you input your code and fingerprint, the door buzzes slightly, and you attempt to enter as quietly as possible.

The TV is playing, but the volume is low. Not a single light is on but the nightlights and the illumination from Kohaku's phone screen. 

At the sound of the door, he sat up from his position on the living room couch bed, and you could hear the sound of his footsteps against the laminated floor. 

"You were out late." He teases. "Thought I was going to have to track you down and give your date a stern talking to." 

You're still facing the door, you're still holding your shoes, you're still drunker than you've ever been. But it was enough for you to turn around to face him after gathering what little bearings you could muster. 

He stands only a few feet away, shirtless, only in a pair of low-hanging Christmas pants that leave practically nothing to the imagination. The shape of his body was so manly, close to inhuman, with his muscles so profoundly shaped. 

You are starting to understand what Reno meant by boundaries.

"I'm still in love with you." 

Kohaku's heterochromia eyes widen, the whites largely visible as he stands stagnant in his spot. His expression from earlier had fallen, leaving his lips pursed tightly. Even his built chest and broad pectorals hadn't moved, as though you gripped his lungs and tore them out. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You slur with a heavy tongue and a slight tilt of your head. "I thought it was obvious." 

He doesn't respond at first, either trying to collect his bearings or figure out the right words to say. "I-, you must have really drank a lot. You always said such nonsense when you had too much to drink." The Oni attempts to jest and laugh, but you do not share that giggle. 

"There you go again, taking me for a joke again." Your murmur at that point was more to yourself as you dropped your shoes and stumbled your way to your bedroom. 

Kohaku followed after a moment of hesitation, lingering in the doorway while you heaved yourself on your bed at the edge. No one says anything, just listening to the faint rumble of the TV. 

"Tonight, I spoke to my co-worker..." You begin faintly. "He married his high school sweetheart, but not his first love." Your attention lingers on the window at the side of your room, staring out at the snowy weather. "I did not tell him what I was going through, but he offered advice that was exactly what I needed to hear. Before...I saw what happened to us as you just abandoning me, completely ditching me because you didn't love me anymore. It was more complex than that, wasn't it?" 

Tears gloss over once again, but this time, you let them fall and smudge whatever makeup remained. "You still loved me; it just became too much. It must have been so exhausting to give your all every waking moment." Everything tastes bitter on your tongue. "I don't fully understand because I still have so much to give...I still had so much to offer. But you...I must have taken everything and still begged for more. I should have understood, but I was young, and immature, and passionately in love with the idea of love." 

The guilt is so evident on his face it's sickening. If this were you just a few hours earlier, you'd probably snap and insult him, unable to bear with his pity. 

"Why are you feeling bad? You made your decision, and you did what you did. It was for the best because if you stayed, we both would have gone up in flames." 

Kohaku inhaled deeply while reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I just..." His gaze was anywhere else but your face. "I still loved you. I still couldn't forget you. You were...you were everything. What we had was unforgettable; most things can't even reciprocate the feelings I had with you." Everything mirrored Wilhelmina and Reno so closely that the irony spurred you to laugh. 

Kohaku falls silent as you hold your belly with your arms crossed, hunching over and laughing with your eyes shut. It wasn't funny in a humorous way anymore. It wasn't even funny in a pathetic way, either. 

Loving to live, obsessing over the idea of devotion, you were addicted to the unhealthy toxicity of it. 

Finally, after a moment, you calmed down, only for your face to be soaked in tears and smudged across your skin. "I wish you had told me everything you felt instead of leaving me to my own thoughts and suspicions. My heart was bleeding and it never stopped." 

"I'm...I'm sorry. I know you don't want-" 

"It's fine." You interject and clear your throat. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to dump all this on you and make you feel bad. It wasn't to make you try and fix things by being with me out of pity. I've realized that I was stuck in our history, in love with the you from the past. The man you are today isn't the same person... I don't even know who you are anymore." 

The Oni in front of you had parted his lips, but the words wouldn't leave his tongue. Fangs poked out, glinting in the moonlight before he finally closed his mouth and swallowed strenuously. 

Gingerly, he stepped forward and stopped right in front of your body. His large hands reached down, taking your gloved ones in his and squeezing. For a second, you let yourself immerse in the warmth of his inhumanity before pulling away and pushing his arms back towards himself. 

"I had told you to maintain your distance because I could not handle being around you. Now I realize what we need to have: boundaries." Softly patting his hands, you urge him to let them drop by his side. "You cannot treat me like the (Y/n) from before. You cannot compliment me or praise me, or suck up to get what you want. You can't just walk around my place half-naked. In fact, you can't be here anymore while I work on myself. We are not friends; we can't be friends, at least right now... Can you do that?" 

With a solemn nod, the Oni stepped back and shifted to leave the room, yet stopped midway through. His shoulders turned as he looked back to face you and spoke in a hushed voice that you almost missed. 

"Will you at least let me do one more thing?" 

You didn't expect him to ask such a question, so you sat silenced and stunned, your drunk brain buzzing with the remnants of a hangover peeking through. "S-Sure." 

With your approval, Kohaku steps back to stand in front. He's in your bubble, invading it as his hands rise and softly hold the sides of your head. Then he dips down, letting his lips press against your forehead with a fleeting kiss that still lingered when he pulled away. 

"Being with you was an unimaginable experience that I could never forget. You are amazing, just an incredible person. There is no one like you in this world, small town or big city." His voice is soft, precious as he speaks by your ear. "Take all the time you need, (Y/n). I can wait for the day until we can be friends again. Even if I have to wait a hundred years." 

You cannot stop the burning hot tears from expelling past your lids and trading down your neck. The insides of your chest aches; it stings and tightens in your heart as though Kohaku reached forward and tore his way through. 

"I love you."

"I love you too."

And I, oop, I wrote this in three days. It took longer than I expected because I didn't know where I was going with the idea. This also turned out longer and broken into 2 chapters bc as you know, I love writing realism. I want to showcase real emotions and it just wouldn't make sense for Kohaku to get with the reader at the end of this chapter when the whole time he didn't even share those feelings. 

Of course, my heart is hurting bc DAYYUMM, I could never. Reader is better than me. I'd really be way too petty and once I feel wronged, you'll never be in my good gracious ever again.

Anyway, I wanted to try something new and write a love interest that isn't hopeless in love with the reader (*cough* Zagan *cough*). It just hurts so good, the angst rn. The next part is supposed to have a lot of character development and growth + as you know me, we get a little more gang affiliation bc I love bad boys. 

Also Simat is a W and she will go off in the next chapter bc whoever hurts 'mommy' reader will get their throat torn out.

Might kill the reader, idk yet, still jotting it down.

Ps.

I just want to apologize also for being gone for so long without a single chapter update in like 6 months. I had completely lost all motivation after my wattpad, which I spent NINE years curating, was deleted in one night over nothing. It literally felt like all my hard work and recognition was just stolen and left me with nothing.

Of course, I have my quotev and Tumblr, which I am thankful for. Wattpad just had the most engagement and following, and it was easier to communicate with me. I just want so many people to read what I can do and enjoy the creativity of my storytelling. 

↳If you'd like to support me or read 30+ drafts of TDMLM or my other stories, please consider buying me Kofi. You can find the link on my profile or here! Thank you :) 

ᴍᴀᴍᴀ ꜱɪɢɴɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ

[musicnewsweb]

FYI: Win Catfish and the Bottlemen The Balcony 10th anniversary vinyl. Just follow & RT/share with @competitionsC or sign-up here https://www.music-news.com/competition/5533/Win-Catfish-and-the-Bottlemen-10th-anniversary-The-Balcony-vinyl Good luck! T's & C's apply. @TheBottlemen #catfishandthebottlemen http://dlvr.it/TDMLMS

[creampie-capital]

Hi everyone! I've been so busy if I forgot to say something, but I just had my 22nd bday on Nov 11th! I had a good time and bought some cool things. but to celebrate that together, I'm putting a free draft on Kofi, one you can read without paying just because I wanted to. I hope you all enjoy it and give me some feedback on how you're feeling about it.

[creampie-capital]

║The Demon Childhood Friend║║━ Pt. 1 ━║

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Male Monster x Fem! Reader Word count║12,600

The Devil May Lick Me Masterlist ━━━➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞

↳.·:*¨༺𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧༻¨*:·.

↳║The Demon Childhood Friend║║━ Pt. 2 ━║ - in development

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Photo Reference Cred ━━━➤ 9taeX on X (Twitter)

Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately.

Now onto the story :)

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Six years old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Hey! Why are you sitting there all alone?" 

The movement of your legs stalled on the swing as you peered up through your hair. You hadn't expected two boys to appear in front of you like a flash of lightning. 

One of them had leaned down while tilting his head of light bubblegum pink hair. It was long, pulled into a high ponytail with bangs that split in the middle over his pale forehead. He observed your small stature sitting on the swing with otherworldy optics like he held the ocean in his iris. 

His eyes were doe-like and hooded, gracing him with a curious, youthful face that probably won over the hearts of young and old women. Lastly, before you diverted your attention away, you observed the golden halo hovering above his head.

The one beside him was a lot shorter and appeared apathetic as if he were annoyed to be here at the park. He had rather dark, woolly blond hair with nice curls that were longer by the back of his head. Even as he kept his small body at an angle, looking off into the distance, you were still able to see the vibrant scarlet colors in his iris'. 

Small angled eyes with long dark lashes could have had him mistaken for female if it were not for his facial features or body. Interestingly enough, unlike his counterpart, a pair of crystal-like horns sprouted from the top of his head. 

They were small, too, like little baby horns of a goat. It would be blind of you not to mention their set of wings, one a soft fluff of white feathers hidden beneath a long-sleeved shirt. The other, dark, leather in texture and featherless, curled inwards behind his back.

"Mom and Dad were arguing again." You murmur while dropping your small hands that held onto the chain on top of your lap. 

The angel boy raised his brow as his small lips formed into an o-shape. "Ah! You're the new girl that just moved in next to mine!" He stuck out his hand and offered it as he grinned boyishly. "I'm Javan, and this is my bestfriend Zagan. He also lives just down the street." 

You stared at his rather thin fingers for a moment before reaching for it with a bleak expression. Yet once your skin touched him, your entire stomach became a ball of heated lava, and the cynical emotions running rampant in your young mind became non-existent. 

The dark thoughts omitted from your mentality...it all became so clear. 

"What's your name?" Javan questioned as he held your hand firmly while that bright grin remained on his face. 

You had to swallow thickly before you could answer. "(Y/n)...I'm (Y/n)." 

"Nice to meet you!" He beamed before looking over at the demon boy. "Why don't we include (Y/n) into the group!? You know we kids need to stick together!" 

Zagan glanced at you for a moment before sighing and crossing his arms over this sweater. He didn't speak; probably didn't want another person to come into their already-established friendship and steal his best friend. 

It was understandable. 

"Oh, Zagan agrees! Then help me push her!" Before you could reply, Javan and Zagan appeared behind you and began pushing your back on the swing. 

It didn't take long for you to start moving. Creaking reverberated around the park as the setting sun painted the sky with molten gold. 

The wind rushing past your ear felt exhilarating, your heart skipping a beat as the sensation of your stomach dropping provoked tingling sensations to surge through your body. 

You had never gotten so high, so high that you can touch the clouds. It felt like you could finally do it... as if you could finally flutter away on a pair of wings. 

Weightless, feather-like, you could fly away anywhere but here. 

One of your arms stuck out to the dimming sky. You wanted to grasp that warmness and hold it close to your heart, never to let it go ever again.

And for a moment, it felt like you were doing it. Until the air swooshed past your ear, and your body was descending swiftly. 

"(Y/n)!"

The darkness of night took over as the lamps flashed with murky color. 

And the chill ate you alive until you were swathed in that same lava-like heat from before. Your eyes drifted from the sky to Javan's face, who held you firmly.

His wings had torn from his clothes to beat in the air as he slowly descended until he kneeled and sat you down on the tire chips. 

"Are you okay?" He questioned you, face full of worry, ocean blue eyes filled with dread. 

The words felt caught in your throat. 

A burning sensation sprouted in your chest, and it took everything in you not to cry. But when Zagan ambled over to kneel on the other side of your figure and lightly touched your shoulder, you felt overwhelmed. 

So you cried and bawled and wailed so hard that you were choking on air. Your face burned, the heat on your cheeks and ears hot like the burner on the stove. 

Wet tears fell as though they were never-ending, wetting your face and drenching your top. An ache so tense and strained gripped at your heart, squeezing to where you felt lightheaded. 

Zagan and Javan hadn't said a word as they kneeled by your side and let you cry your heart out. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Ten years old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

A tap resonated from your window as you hid beneath your comforter, reading the superhero comic book with a rather bulky flashlight. 

You had ignored it, mouthing the words on printed paper to yourself to practice your pronunciation. Turning the page, your lips parted to speak, and yet another tap at your window startled your movement. 

For a moment, you sat in silence, hearing it again before thrusting the blanket overhead. It was hot and stuffy under the covering that once you were out, the chilly breeze of the central air rose goosebumps over your skin. 

You nearly tripped, scooting off your bed and running over to your window. Kneeling over the cushioned bench, you forced it open to stick your head out. 

Zagan and Javan hovered in the air of your second-story house with their wings. They've grown a lot since you first met them; well, the pink-haired one grew the most.

He grew taller, his limbs longer, and his hair, tied in a high ponytail, reached the small of his back. His halo now pulsated brightly with the pure white aileron's lengthier, far longer than the length of a car.

Zagan, on the other hand, remained the shortest, shorter than you. He still had a lot of baby fat on his cheeks that were framed by his golden curls that grew longer, reaching his shoulders. Though, if something had grown, it had to have been his leathery bat-like wings that extended to such a length that you were surprised it was not getting stuck in the tree branches. 

"Baby girl!" The angel boy greeted as he smiled brightly and fluttered his white feathered wings.

That nickname used to be an insult because of how you cried your eyes out when they first met you. But then they both casually referred to you by it since you liked to call them Angel Boy and Demon Boy. 

When they call you it, you swear all your worries melt away, and you become a small little jewel that they cherish like a national treasure. 

You felt special and valued, adored by people who didn't see fault in your every move.

Instead of responding back joyfully as you usually would, you crossed your arms and turned the other way. "I'm not talking to you two! Not after you guys got me grounded!" Your young adolescent voice expresses out. 

The demon boy frowns while he twiddles his fingers behind his back with his batty aileron's twitching.

J had clicked his tongue and shrugged rather nonchalantly in his grey windbreaker. "You can't blame us forever, Baby! You were the one that wanted to fly to the satellite tower-" 

You flung your head towards the angel while sneering. "Yeah, but you both were the ones that flew into the camera with the news reporter! When my dad saw it, he flipped and took away all my privileges! That's why I'm still grounded after three months!" Your response only spurs the young boy to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. 

He could only grin and hope that bright smile he knew you loved would cheer you up. It was irritable how right he was. Although you were still upset, you wavered without even a fight. 

Javan was just someone you couldn't be mad at, and Zagan as well. Not when the demon looked like he would faint when you would ignore him and vice versa for you with the angel. 

"You guys are so lucky." You whine while sitting down on your bench and resting one of your arms on the windowsill. "Your parents never ground either of you."

The angel quirks a lopsided grin as he wags one of his fingers. "You can't get in trouble if they don't know~" His teasing remark spurs you to flick his forehead harshly. 

He winces slightly while you train your attention to the ends of your hair. "Easy for you to say when your parents don't monitor everything you do like a hawk. They only just recently allowed me to be in my room by myself during the day..." 

Zagan's scarlet red eyes flicker upwards to meet your gaze. "Sorry..." He whispers so softly that you almost miss it over the loud wooshing of the wind due to their flapping wings. 

You parted your lips to speak, yet it was interrupted by a voice. "(Y/n)! Who are you talking to when you're grounded!?" 

It was your father, and you could hear his heavy footsteps already stalking up the stairs. 

"Crap!" Javan groans. The angel boy flew over to kiss your forehead before waving goodbye and flying over to his house next door. 

You watched him glide so effortlessly away as the warmth on the spot he touched was mind-numbing and addicting. 

Z glanced down at the ground for a second before shuffling for something in his pants pocket. Just as the footsteps arrived at your door, he placed something in the palm of your hand and whispered softly against your ear. 

"I thought of you." 

His soft, boyish voice rose the hair on the back of your neck. 

The door squeaked open, and Z was gone like a flash of lightning. "Who said you could have your window open? Close it now." His voice is grating, pungent with authority as the man of the house. 

"Yes, Dad." You responded immediately and slammed it shut. Your blood is running cold, a type of chill that burns bitterly.

His presence lingers, staring at the back of your head like you are little prey unable to escape its trap. Then there are his eyes, those cold, lifeless eyes.

You never liked seeing those words in the books. Cold...Lifeless...how can one look like that? But as you grew older, you became aware. 

Nothing behind the eyes, empty and void of basic compassion. Or maybe he's only like that with you. Fathers know best for their daughters, right?

"Do you want more privileges to be taken away?" He questioned, which spurred you to immediately shake your head, gaze still situated on the wooden floor. "Should it be your bed or your books next?" 

"N-No, please." Your voice was feeble, powerless like an injured animal. "I'm sorry." 

His bulky body leans against the door frame while his arms crossed over his chest, and remains in silence. He lets the stillness unnerve you, the unknown of what is to come to scare you into compliance. 

So he just stood there while you sat on the bench, cornered and head bowed. 

The silence is so deafening. No, it's suffocating. As though quietness manifested into hands to grip your little neck and squeeze-

"Dad, the show's back on!" Your younger brother's voice cuts through the tension and gains the older man's attention. 

He huffs audibly and finally speaks. "When I say you're grounded, that means you're being punished for disobeying." The man retorts. "Don't piss me off again." And with that, he grasps the door handle and slams it shut. 

A hanging frame on the door tumbles from the force, with the walls of your room rattling. You don't move for a second, remaining stagnant to cease the quivering in your lips. 

"I hate you." It seethes from your lips before you rub your eyes free of a burning sensation. 

Now that you were alone, you allowed yourself to relax and unclench your fingers over the object Zagan had given you. What you come to see is a silver necklace with a small pendant. It's a pair of wings, silver and shiny, with something engraved on the smooth backside. 

'My Favorite Girl'

How gorgeous. It brought a smile to your face as you ran your finger over the present. The metal and jewels felt cool to the touch. 

You swiftly ran over to your vanity and chained the necklace around your throat like your life depended on it. 

Often, it felt as though Zagan was annoyed with you, rarely ever speaking while looking disinterested. But sometimes...sometimes, he did things that brought a smile to your face. 

Just like now. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Fourteen years old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Javan settled down in the seat next to you as he placed one of his arms around the back of your neck. Your gaze rose from the school Chromebook while you smiled at the male. 

The more he ages, the more he continues to grow. His limbs became lengthy, his pink bubblegum hair down to his knees, and all the youthful fat in his face graced him with a prominent jawline and hollowed cheekbones.

"Hey, you. I thought Mr. Voitier was going to keep you after class for not paying attention." You tease while reaching for an apple on your tray. 

It's lunchtime during eighth grade; you had sat in the courtyard attempting to fix homework you made a mistake on before it was due. 

The angel winks while wagging a finger. "Not some good 'ol persuasion couldn't help with." He states before sticking out his tongue. 

You scoffed, pinching his tongue before wiping the saliva on a napkin. "Threatening to tell the school that he's being biased because he's a demon isn't going to work forever. Eventually, he's going to lose his patience." 

J merely waves a hand, dismissing your words before he leans back in his seat. His ocean eyes peer over to your screen, which provokes a groan. 

"Sh*t. I didn't even know that was homework." 

"How did you not know? It literally says the due date at the top." 

The angel shrugs, and you roll your eyes. "This cannot be a habit, you know." His gaze is burning against the side of your face, provoking little tingles to run up your spine. "Fine...Fine, you can copy." Once you spoke, he beamed so brightly that his halo pulsated almost blindly. 

He's like the sun that you could have in your arms. 

"You're a lifesaver! Mom would kick my a** if I got anything below an A." He expressed with his white wings fluttering behind his back. 

He's so cute. 

"Yeah, yeah. If you would just stop being lazy and forgetful, you'd never have to worry." As you return your gaze to the Chromebook, you catch a glimpse of dark wings and light hair.

Blinking, you tilt the screen down as you hone in on the background. It was Zagan, for sure.  

You actually have not seen him around for a while now. He's always busy or off doing his own thing. Your parents do not trust you enough to have a phone, so it is not like you can just message him. 

Often, you do see him around his house down the street, but in school, it's like he's a ghost. 

Matching your sight, Javan stands up while unfortunately removing his arm from your shoulders. "Yo! Z, bud!" 

Zagan's movement froze as he removed his earbuds and directed his attention to the wall of windows. 

The demon boy was still the same as when he was years ago—chubby cheeks, short height, stick-like limbs, baby crystal horns, with his shaggy curly blond hair reaching his shoulders. 

What really changed was his wings, which were just massive, even longer than Javan's. He had to have it folded behind his back and buckled with a binding due to how difficult it was for him to keep the huge ailerons closed. 

It must hurt.

The male beside you waves his hand over, and at first, it appears as though the other person in the trio looks hesitant. 

But after a moment, he shifted his path and opened the doors to enter the courtyard. His scarlet horns glimmered like a gleaming diamond under the sun. 

Javan and Zagan share a quick handshake before he nods over to acknowledge your presence. 

"Whatchya been up to, man? We barely see you anymore." The angel starts as he returns to sit down next to you. 

His right hand found its place on your thigh, and you swore your heart nearly lurched out of your stomach. The heat of his skin that you could feel through your clothes was swathing you in a bubble of delight. 

It was addicting and comforting and had shot tingles all across your abdomen. 

The demon boy swallowed rather audibly as he turned his head away. "Just been busy." He states, his voice slightly cracking. 

Hmm, why wasn't he telling you two about it? You all shared everything with each other. 

"I get it, man. Just don't forget about us. We've been friends for way too long just to grow apart." Javan expressed, and you nodded your head in agreement. 

"We are here for you, Z." His scarlet eyes fling down to meet your gaze. "With whatever's going on, we'll listen. We'll support you through anything. That's what friends are for." 

He swallows thickly again, his one hand hanging by his side twitching before curling into a fist that he hid in the pocket of his sweatshirt. "Yeah, I know. Thanks for that." His phone abruptly vibrates, and he snatches it swiftly, reading something on the screen with hard eyes before sighing. "I gotta go." 

Before either of you can tell him goodbye, he was trekking back into the school with his tied wings beating against the binding. 

A scowl laces your lips as you slouch in your seat. "I hope he's okay." You murmur, which prompts the angel to squeeze his hand on your leg. 

Your fingers twitch as you train your attention to meet his bright eyes. "He's fine. You know he's just always been moody." The pink-haired being expresses while reaching for his own phone.

Either on instinct or tendency, your dominant hand rose to graze over the winged pendant beneath your blouse. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Knocking audibly on the door, you could hear courses of children screaming and laughing with objects falling to the ground. 

It took a moment for the front door to be opened, and you were welcomed by the sight of Jahi, Zagan's mother. 

She's a beautiful woman, blessed with beautiful features, a small mole on her chin, and small, sharp cat-like eyes with long lashes. You could see where Zagan got his hair from, his mother sprouting bright golden curls that reached her hips. 

Her wings were something else, still leather-like but marked with swirling scarlet red lines that seemed to glow.

There was a small toddler hanging off her shoulder with one on top of her head and another babbling in her arms.

"Hi, Aunty!" You greet and grip the straps of your backpack. "Is Zagan home?"

"Baby!" She gushes down at you from her tall height while using the childhood nickname the two boys in your trio used. "It's been a while since you've been over. Everything alright?" 

For a moment, you feel the inner corner of your eyes tense and burn, but you push it down to smile and nod your head. "Yes, Aunty! Eighth grade is just so busy." 

Jahi nods before she catches one of her kids that fell from her head without even looking. "I understand. Don't be afraid to come over more often, even if it's just for dinner. Come in; Zagan's down in his room." 

You bowed slightly before entering her large home and immediately removed your shoes. Two other kids covered in paint ran past swiftly while knocking over a vase. 

Aunty Jahi practically teleported over and caught the porcelain object with one of her wings. "It looks like the kiddos are rather active today." You jest while helping her to put the vessel back on the stand. 

"No kidding." She murmurs while leading you over to the kitchen. Easily, she holds two of the tykes in one arm as she rummages through the refrigerator before pulling out a bowl of fruit. "Have a snack. I'll be making dinner soon." 

A lopsided grin forms on your lips from the habit you've always had. Every time you all used to come over, the older demon woman had snacks for you to eat. 

Whether it be fruit, candy, or pastries. Carefully, you took the bowl and nodded. "Okay, Aunty. I'll see you in a bit." 

She waved you away as you strode through the home like second nature. The residence was big, bigger than all the houses in the neighborhood. 

It made sense with all the children in the Lamia household—at least seven children, with Zagan being the oldest. He likes to say that he can't stand his siblings, but he's cared for them like a third parent. 

He'll say he hates them, but you've never seen someone who'd go to the ends of the world to find a cure when his brothers and sisters have just a cold. 

Yeah, the demon boy goes on and on about wanting to move away, but you both know he'd worry himself sick about the other kids.

Watching your footing, you strolled downstairs to the basement, where you passed one of Z's younger brothers by a year reading on the couch in the common area. 

They were rather similar looking, except he was taller, a little more aged in the face, and his horns had grown to curl back over his ears. 

If you weren't family friends, you would have guessed the second and third oldest had come before Zagan because of how fast they grow...it's something Zagan's very insecure about.

"Hey, Alastor." You greet him as you pass.

He peers up for a second before returning to his book. "Hey, (Y/n)." 

Down the hallway, the last door at the end, you approach unhurriedly before knocking loudly. You wait for a response, and once you get a quiet 'what,' you open it. 

Zagan's changed into a pair of sweats with a matching dark sweater. His attention is on the gaming computer as he effortlessly clicks the buttons on his controller without even looking. 

Once his gaze flickers over to you for a moment, he's startled and bangs his knee against the desk. "F*ck..." He curses under his breath as he yanks the headphones off his head.

You hold in a giggle and step in fully to close the door behind your figure. 

"What are you doing here?" He snaps, practically hissing it out as he slides out from the desk to rub his knees. 

"Why else?" You retort, dropping your bag against the wall to settle on his wide bed. "I miss you and came to check in because it feels like you're ignoring us." 

Zagan frowns at your words; his gaze focuses on his legs for a second before he returns them to his screen. "You should have just texted-" 

"I don't have a phone, remember." 

He's silenced as you begin plopping the fruits into your mouth and snacking on them as if you had been starving. 

The demon boy returned to his game, placing back on his headphones but keeping one earpad off so he could hear if you spoke. 

Indulging in the comfortable ambiance of his button clicking and the muffled screaming of his siblings upstairs, you watched him play silently. 

Not long after, you grasped your bag and took out a folder with homework that needed to be completed. You lay on your stomach, kicking your legs back and forth while reaching for fruit in the bowl. 

When it came to spending time with Zagan, you both enjoyed doing your own thing in each other's presence. And considering that the demon boy didn't often speak either, you did most of the talking as he either nodded along to what you were saying or grunted in response. 

It was comforting and something you've missed. For a while now, there felt to be this distance growing, like he were on the other side of the bridge with the path crumbling apart. 

You didn't want to lose him. 

"Where's Javan? Thought you'd be with him." He abruptly speaks up, cutting off the neutral silence. 

"Javan had something to do with the Angel community." You state while turning over the packet to the next page. "Something about reconnecting with their beliefs or whatever." 

Although you do not see, the demon nodded his head while saving his game. He removed his headphones to hang them on his monitor before turning his gaming chair to face your figure lying on his bed. 

Feeling his gaze, you peered up while smiling. "Hey, there, Demon Boy. I missed you." 

Zagan swallowed thickly at your words, his throat visibly bobbing as he gripped the rest of his seat tightly. You didn't notice earlier, but beneath his vibrant eyes were dark undercircles.

Had he not been sleeping well? He was always the last one to fall asleep and the first one up during sleepovers. 

Even Jahi used to take him to the hospital for chronic insomnia, and they thought it was resolved. Guess not. 

"Do you-" 

"I know that you are in love with Javan." 

You choked on a bite of fruit, a stinging sensation sprouting in the back of your throat as you sat up to cough. "W-What?! No! What are you even talkin' about?" Zagan's expression was not pleased. "Was it...Was it really that obvious?" 

He scoffed while nodding and leaning back in his seat. 

Groaning, you ran a hand through your hair while keeping your eyes down. It felt difficult at that moment to meet his gaze. "I didn't want anyone to know. I don't want anything to ruin our friendship, you know? We're already becoming distant." 

The embarrassment was eating you alive. 

"Baby Girl..." It's been years since he has called your name, even longer since you've heard him use that nickname. It makes shivers run up your spine as a tingling in your abdomen flutters. "You know that Javan's not really..." He stops himself from speaking anymore as if he couldn't find the words. "Javan's not really who you think he is. Don't you see fast he switches up when you're around?"

Raising a brow, you shook your head. "Actually, no, I don't. What do you mean by that?"

He respired a heavy breath, appearing unsure and doubtful as he shifted in his seat. "F*ckin' A... Listen, you might think you know Javan, but you really don't. He's not...He's not a good person-" 

"What are you talking about!" You interjected, feeling heat flush through your body and a wave of vertigo. "I've known him since forever. I know him. Why are you talking down on our friend like that?" 

His constrained wings twitched, pushing against the binding that had the straps whine. He attempted to speak, his lips parting, but only wheezes escaped. 

Cursing again, his thin, bony fingers gripped tightly onto the armrest as his right leg began to bounce. "Please, if you value our friendship, just listen to me." 

Oh, how you wanted to walk away right there, but what he said halted you in your spot. Of course, you valued your friendship with him; he was your best friend. 

He was your family. 

"Baby, Javan knows you like him. Everyone knows." Your face was burning in embarrassment; it felt so humiliating for some reason. "He doesn't feel the same. H-He's rather ashamed and disgusted-" 

"You're lying!" It was practically a scream as you shot to your feet off the bed. "Javan would never say that!" The inner corner of your eyes stung as tears glazed over the conjunctiva. "He's not like that! You're just envious that he's always been better than you!" 

Due to your words, the rage boiling your blood had now transferred over to the demon in front of you. Zagan stood up almost dangerously slow, like a predatory. "You think that's why I'm envious..." He nearly snarled while his canines visibly grew longer and sharper. "I don't give a flying f*ck that he's taller, bigger, smarter. He could be better than me in a hundred more ways, but it wouldn't even come close to why I'm envious of that b*stard." 

Seething hot tears trailed down your face, seeping down your chin to wetten your throat. You didn't know how to feel, what exactly to feel. 

All your emotions were taken for a spin: disoriented, puzzled, dumb-struck. Who is telling the truth? Who is right? 

They both are your best friend, the people closest to your heart that makes your days brighter and nights calmer. 

But how do you react when the one you're utterly in love with isn't who you thought he was? Or when the other confronts you with what could be the truth...but also a lie? 

"Please, Z. Just...just tell me that you didn't mean it, and I'll forget-" 

The straps containing his massive wings had snapped from the force as they extended outwards. The dark, leathery ailerons knocked over objects and slashed through metal shelves attached to the walls. 

You nearly fell over from the sudden action, intimidated by the spikes that lined the edge at the top. Not only was it long in width, but the height of it was nearly double his stature.

They don't grow their wings like that; they don't get so big they are nearly twice their size. But his had the possibility of rivaling Satan.

"Ever since we were kids, you've let him get away with everything. You've overlooked too many flaws for me to stand here and let you get your heart broken." He reached forward to wipe a tear away, but you couldn't stand the touch of him at the moment. 

It can't be true. 

"What does it matter to you..." It's a broken cry, whimpering from your lips as your heart shatters inside regardless. 

It just can't be true.

"I-" His chest decompresses while his wings descend like a deflating toy. "Baby, I care about you-" 

"Then why are you lying to me!?" 

Zagan startles you as his hands latch onto your shoulders and squeeze. "I'm not lying! Not to you! Not to my Baby." His already slightly high pre-teen voice squeaked, and he cringed at his tone. 

So overwhelmed, filled with grief and disbelief, you stepped backward and spoke to him in a way you never have before. "No, I'm not your Baby. Not anymore." 

It was as if you watched his world crumble in his scarlet eyes. "(Y-(Y/n)...please." 

You couldn't breathe at all, as if someone had your lungs in their hands and were depriving you of any air. With blurry sight, muddled with tears, you turned away and shoved your things into your bag. 

His wings were still in the way; those beautiful things that you loved to play with when he would allow it made the tears all the worse now. "Let me out." You ordered. 

The hands that were once holding your shoulder dropped to hang limply by his side, weak, frail, unstable. "If I let you go, then that's it." 

You were losing strength in your legs.

"(Y/n), don't leave me...please." He begged while stepping forward, but you turned your head away. 

Your grip on the straps of your bag was not enough padding to save your palms from being burrowed into by your nails.  "Goodbye, Zagan."

That was it. You both knew that it was final; there was no going back from this. The friendship has been tarnished, and trust broken. 

It will never be the same again. 

Hesitantly, Zadan curled in his massive wing, and you didn't waste another moment running out of there.

You flung the door open and scurried down the hall. 

Alastor was still in the common room on the couch and waved to you without looking away from his book. "Goodbye, (Y/n)." 

"Goodbye, Alastor." 

You passed the other Lamia siblings who called out to you, and you had to say goodbye, knowing you'd never be back here again. 

On your way to the front door, you tried to be silent, holding down a sob, but when you heard Jahi calling out to you from behind, you nearly bawled right then and there. 

"I'll see you soon, right, Baby?" 

You sniffled, hiding your face as you forcefully shoved your feet into your shoes and half-a**ed-tied them. "Of course, Aunty!" Faking the enthusiasm hurt like a punch to the gut. "I'll see you again soon."

Before she could reply, you left as fast as you could. There's no one left to turn to but him; you need to see him. 

Without a phone or any way to contact him, all you could do was return home and wait for him to get back from the event. 

At first, you walk as if your legs are broken, but the ardent emotions spur you to bolt down the street back to your house. 

You fling the door open and hasten down the hallway to get up the stairs. Your father yells out to you, followed by your younger brother, whose mocking words pierce you like blunt knives. 

The sobs raking your body are excruciating, aching as if your entire figure is cold rubber being pulled. It feels even worse here with all the memories. 

Pictures of the three of you are everywhere: the unfished projects worked on together, and the clothes still left over from when they used to sneak in for a sleepover. 

You cannot stand it; you cannot handle it. 

Everything must go.

There is no carefulness or being mindful of how you handle the things in the room; you throw them into plastic bags with the full intent of being rid of everything. 

Yet when you collapse to your knees to catch your breath, the necklace he gave you slips out from underneath your shirt. 

The sight only provoked your wails to become silent, merely broken, stuttering wheezes as the stress spurred sleep to hold you tightly and close your eyes. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

A warm touch ran through your hair while the same heat traveled up and down your spine in a soothing manner. 

"Hey, it's not good to sleep on the cold wooden ground." 

Your awareness was returning, and you groaned audibly while cracking your puffy eyes open. "Mmm, Javan...?" 

He hums in acknowledgment, and as your vision focuses, you see that you are moved onto your bed, the angel boy sitting at the edge as he comforts your head in his lap. 

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, Baby." He cooed softly as the singing of grasshoppers filled your room due to the open window. 

His presence, the god-like radiance, was cathartic, like the pounding of raindrops on the roof. Everything had felt so cold, and you felt so alone. 

With Javan here, as he holds you, it's like heaven. 

You tell him everything, everything that happened when you visited Zagan at his home. Without mentioning your feelings for him, you skidded over that part, but it wasn't needed to explain the event.

It hurts inside as if you swallowed a cluster of needles. 

The angel listens silently as he continues to rub your back and send tingles through the muscle. By the time you finished, a new set of tears had befallen your face; however, your throat ached too much to wail audibly. 

"I'm so sorry he did that to you. I knew he had always been rude and inconsiderate, but I didn't think he would ever try to smear my name or break your heart." He murmurs while tilting his head. "I really thought our friendship meant something to him." 

You could barely nod with exhaustion interwoven in your limbs. "Me too..." 

One of Javan's hands lightly grazed over your lips as he trailed it down your neck. "You know how much I care about you, right?" 

【"What does it matter to you..." It's a broken cry, whimpering from your lips as your heart breaks inside regardless. 

"I-" His chest decompresses while his wings descend like a deflating toy. "Baby, I care about you-" 

"Then why are you lying to me!?"】 

You do not trust your voice, only nodding your head as you turn over to hide your face against his abdomen. 

"I cannot tell you enough about how important you are to me." Javan's hand reached down as he clasped his fingers with yours. "You are my everything, Baby. You are my sun-" He squeezed your conjoined hand. "-my moon-" Leiursurely, he leans down to hover by your ear. "-you are the air I need to breathe-" And finally, you felt the softness of his succulent lips caressing the skin of your neck. "-and the strength that lets me fly. I cannot be without you." 

He kisses down your throat until he reaches your shoulder so he can hide his face in the crook of your neck. "Don't let his hurtful lies make you question our friendship, our relationship. We don't need him anyway. Right?" 

When you don't reply, he pulls away and lightly swivels your head to look up at him. "Right, Baby girl? We don't need him. Can you say it?" 

"W-We..." It feels as though you have no voice even to speak. No one wants to drop a friend, let alone one from childhood that was like family. 

Shaking your head, you attempt to pull away; however, you are not permitted to leave. Javan maneuvers your position, with you on your back, as he leans over from above. 

The beautiful white feathered wings flap lightly in the air as the moon glimmers behind him, darkening his halo. 

"You can do it, Baby. I know you can." The angel boy lightly pressed his open palm on your stomach as he stared down with otherworldly eyes. "Here, I'll even say it with you."

 

"I-" 

His hand on your belly lifts so his fingertips trail up to your neck. 

"I-"

He wraps them around your throat, tingles jolting across your skin. 

"-Don't-" 

The angel leans down just close enough to where your nose barely touches.

"-Don't-"

You feel hot beneath your clothes as if you were lying in a sauna. 

"-Need-" 

Your heart hurts, filled heavily with the distraughtness of losing your best friend. 

"-Need-" 

The closeness...the proximity of your bodies were suffocating your lungs. 

"-Him-" 

It's one word, but the impact of it was greater than an asteroid colliding with the moon. 

"-Him-"

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Eighteen years old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Even early in the morning, the common room of the high school was bustling with activity. You felt heated beneath baggy clothes as you chewed on a piece of gum. 

The insides of your stomach ached as though they were eating its self alive. 

With your cracked phone in hand, your fingers danced over the keyboard as you debated whether or not to double-text. 

Javan has left you on read again without a single response. You've been attempting to get in contact about when you could give him the essay that he needed help with. 

During senior year, you know he's busy with Track and Lacrosse, and he doesn't have the time to check in with you like he used to. 

It doesn't help that it's hard to get close to him. High school does what high school does. 

Angels run with run angels, devils and demons congregate together, and any other monster type sticks with their kind. 

There obviously were a few outcasts, but even then, it was hard to be included. Not even mentioning how the small populations of humans weren't a fan of you. The humans said you were too close to the monster, and the monsters didn't like you because you were human. 

Lose/lose situation. 

Just thinking about it always puts a damper on your mood. The isolation and seclusion were nothing new; it was merely exhausting to have to do everything by yourself. 

You threw the broken phone on the round table in the common room and leaned over the AP history textbook that was open. Its cold, plastic-like texture felt pleasant against your warm skin. 

Sleep hasn't been gracing you for a while now. There have been just too many things to do. So much homework, more than half, not even yours. Javan already had so much on his plate. As his best friend, it felt only right to help him as much as you could. 

Resting the side of your head on your arms, you stared out at the entrance of the school. More students poured into the halls as the time grew closer to the first period. 

Hopefully, Javan arrives by himself, so you won't need to deal with the other angels questioning your presence. 

For beings that were made to be messengers of god, they were rather concerned about their vanity. Well, that's what happens when they are left to themselves.

They become rather human in their sins. 

Your already sour mood became acidic as the one person you wish you didn't have to see walked through the door. 

He had to bend down from his 6'6 (198.12cm-1.9812m) height, the grown crystal horns on top of his head only causing more hassle; it nearly scraped against the already lofty door frame. 

Zagan used to believe that his horns would never grow, considering his younger siblings had curled and extended way earlier than he ever did.

The demon boy was just a late bloomer. 

He used to be this short, scrawny little guy who was never in the slightest popular. Many of your peers picked on him, mocking him for his appearance, calling him a pathetic excuse of a demon. 

Now, he was practically the poster child. His muscles grew, making him beefy and bulky. His upper torso was wide, more specifically, his shoulders, with his chest broadening. 

Through his tighter clothes, anyone could see the muscle definition of his abbs and v-line. Before, Zagan was never one for such fitted clothes; you knew he was always insecure about his skeletal limbs and hid them beneath sweats and oversized attire. 

Similar to his upper body, his legs grew just as muscular and thick. They fitted dark jeans perfectly to where you could see the curves and meat beneath the cloth. 

What has also changed is his hair. His blonde curls were less defined, and he cut them so they were just slightly beneath his ear. 

His earlobes are now pierced and riddled with embellishments and rings. Those beautifully dangerous batty wings of his had somehow grown even larger; the width was nearly unbelievable, with the height a little past his head. 

The spikes were pointier, more ominous. 

At first, when he was younger, he needed to bind his abnormally large wings for his size because he didn't have the control to keep them closed or out of the way. Now, he still has to bind them only because they are so oversized that even when he curls them in, it's like he walks with a wall behind him.

Zagan Lamia went from being super nerdy and a loner to a big shot that everyone wanted to be affiliated with...everyone but the angels and you. 

Now, your ex-friend ran with the other demon students. He was like a celebrity, someone the girls threw themselves at, and the boys always tried to get into his good gracious with. 

Sometimes, when you look at his mature appearance, you wonder if it was you who was holding him back from his potential. 

For a moment, it felt as though Zagan's scarlet red gaze rose to meet yours as he swiped his tongue over his plump bottom lip. A small black ring pierced the left side of his lip, and he appeared to fiddle with it as he neared. 

Your heart abruptly skipped a beat, and the back of your neck was drenched with sweat. 

It's as though he's deadset on making his way to you, but a warm hand on your neck startled you. Your head flew up as you swung your gaze in the other direction. 

Javan plopped his body down in the seat beside yours and tilted his head while smiling almost coyly. "What were you looking at, Baby?" 

Your stomach coils like two hot wires being twisted around each other. Glancing back swiftly, there doesn't appear to be any trace of Zadan. He's nowhere to be seen, and that's saying something.

"Nothing." You murmur softly and return your attention to the angel. "Just thought I saw something, must be my mind playing tricks on me." 

He hummed slowly, staring at your phone tossed aside on the table before glancing at your face. "I can see that you haven't been sleeping. Bad dreams?" His words are laced with honey, so sweet that you devour it like a greedy little kid. 

You don't want to seem incompetent by confessing that you feel overwhelmed by your workload, so you attempt to smile and nod your head. "Yeah, bad dreams and Yose's little pranks getting out of hand." 

Javan laughs lightly; you're sure that he can easily imagine that annoying little menace of a brother bothering you. 

Similar to Zagan, the angel had grown and matured just as much. He didn't get beefy like the demon; his build was more athletic and toned. 

His muscular limbs were proportionate to his 6'2ft (188.976cm - 1.8796m) stature, the white feathered wings just as big and as tall as himself. They curled perfectly behind his back; wouldn't be a problem unless he unfurled them outwards. 

That long hair of his was no more. He cut it so it was long bangs over his forehead and a mullet of some sort down the back of his neck. 

There was just something about the angels and the way they dressed; they were always on trend, stylish, and attired in a manner that always made their bodies look the best. 

It was like having supermodels strutting down the halls, not accounting for the succubus' or Incubi. 

Realizing why you were upset in the first place, you dig through your heavy backpack to pull out your Chromebook. "Before I forget, let me send the essay to you." 

Javan beamed, his ocean eyes practically glimmering as he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. "I literally forgot. You really are a lifesaver!"

【The angel shrugs, and you roll your eyes. "This cannot be a habit, you know." His gaze is burning against the side of your face, provoking little tingles to run up your spine. "Fine...Fine, you can copy." Once you spoke, he beamed so brightly that his halo pulsated almost blindly. 

He's like the sun that you could have in your arms. 

"You're a lifesaver! Mom would kick my a** if I got anything below an A." He expressed with his white wings fluttering behind his back. 

He's so cute. 

"Yeah, yeah. If you would just stop being lazy and forgetful, you'd never have to worry." As you return your gaze to the Chromebook, you catch a glimpse of dark wings and light hair.】

It's been four years, but that memory from the courtyard in middle school suddenly flashed in your mind. So long ago, but the recollection still feels as though it were yesterday. 

The loss still feels so fresh. 

"Right..." You wheeze out before clearing your throat. "What are your plans today? I've been wanting to get out of the house and go somewhere other than work." 

J appears to think intently, his gaze almost out of focus, before he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "I don't think I can. The community is meeting up at the grand church for a ceremony tonight." 

The dejection is evident, your shoulders sagging, but it's what you expected. He's ever so busy; you should be more considerate of his schedule. 

Humming, you sent over the documents through email as you kept your gaze away from meeting his. "Are you still going to senior formal?" You question just to start a conversation. 

It's been weeks since you've actually been able to speak face-to-face with him. You're soaking his attention in as much as you can.

"Yeah, I wasn't gonna go, but the others convinced me." 

"Oh~?" Your lips form into a faux smile. "Javan Wyn was peer pressured?" 

The hand on the back of your was removed to flick at your forehead. "I don't get peer pressured." He stated, which spurred you to roll your eyes. 

"Alright, whatever you say, Angel Boy. Do you have at least a date?" 

"No." 

The heat beneath your baggy clothes grew worse, and a sudden surge of anxiety flushed through your bloodstream. "Are you going to ask someone?" 

You don't know whether you want him to say yes or no. He's so handsome, his appearance nearly a blessing of god. It's astounded you that he isn't in a relationship. 

Everyone flocks to him. 

And you're still in love with him after twelve years.

"Hmm." He leans over the table and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. "I haven't really put any thought into it." 

A breath of air you hadn't realized you were holding in was released as you laughed. What did you expect? 

He's never voiced anything about liking any of the girls at the school, and you'd know. Best friends tell each other everything. 

"Well, if you come up with someone in mind, won't you tell me first?" You offer while leisurely closing your Chromebook. 

"Sure, Baby. You'll be the first to know." Javan laughs under his breath while swiping a loose strand of hair over to behind your ear. Doing so, he was able to see a very small hair clip you had to keep some frays out of your face. 

"What's this?" He questions, and you're unable to meet his gaze. 

You immediately remove the clip and conceal it within the palm of your hand. "Oh! I-It's nothing. I just forgot to take it out. My hair was just getting in the way." 

Whatever the angel says goes a long way for you. If he says a certain color looks good on you, you're altering your whole theme. 

When he tells you, 'I really like it when you wear baggy clothes. You don't look good when you wear anything tight.' You change your entire wardrobe, so maybe he'll like you more. 

Maybe his eyes would linger on you more when you listen when he says, 'Don't wear make-up, you look so much better bare-faced. Make-up just doesn't fit someone like you.' 

Perhaps he'll tell you he likes the way you look when you do your hair just the way he likes it. 'It's ugly when you put those clips in your hair, ya know. I only like girls who keep their hair up in a bun. Yeah, yeah, that suits you much better.' 

You would do anything for him. 

"Don't forget next time." Javan reprimands and reaches for the colorful metal clip in your hand. "It's ugly when you wear it." 

Your throat tightens, constricting with the sensation of sobbing, attempting to force its way through. But you swallow it down and nod your head with a small, frantic smile. "Of course." 

His warm fingers graze over your palm to take the clip in his own and leans back to aim and toss it in the garbage can against the wall. "There." He murmurs while turning back to face you with a gleaming smile. "You look so much better when you're like this." 

Simple, he likes it when you appear simple and clean. He likes it when you wear ill-fitting clothes, even when it's hot, and you're swathed in sweat. He likes it when you tie your hair up, fringes, and lose hair gelled back. 

He likes it when you do nothing more. 

The bell rings, which draws his attention as well as that of other students who scatter to get to class on time. The angel stands and pats your face lightly while grazing his thumb over your lip. 

Your entire stomach is doing front lips, and you could melt in his angelic touch. 

"I'll see you around, Baby." And with that, he departs from the common area to leave you alone just as you were before.

It was nice while it lasted, but all good things must come to an end. 

"See you around, Javan." It whispers from your lips as you shift in your seat to collect your things.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂ 

You hate that sensation, the feeling of chlorine in your hair. Even as you try to scrub and wash it out after aquatic fitness, that awful tacky and dry sensation sticks to every strand. 

It sucks, considering how much you enjoyed swimming. Weightless, fluid, as if you're flying away from here. The way your hands split the water, the manner in which your body glides through it so easily, drives all your worries to melt away. 

Shutting off the shower in the female locker room, you reach for your towels and wrap them around your body and hair. 

There should still be at least ten more minutes before the bell rings for the end of class. You can take a little bit of time to look presentable-ish. 

As you enter the lockers, it appears that all the other girls had finished before you, already gone. Not that you minded either; you didn't like their eyes on your body, judging in the way they always do. 

You're just a little human in a world of monsters.

Sighing, you undid the code to the lock and opened the locker. Instead of seeing your change of clothes and other items, it was bare.

Not a single object or article of clothing. 

Your entire stomach filled with dread, and dropped to your knees. 

"Awe, whatever happened to your clothes~?" It's a sickeningly sweet voice that originated behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as your heart skips a beat. 

Laughing lightly even though you desire to scream, you remove the towel from your hair and slowly turn around. "I just can't seem to keep my things together." 

It's suffocating, standing in only thin, short clothes as six other students surround you, four angels and two humans. 

Water trickled down your neck while you swallowed thickly. 

"Oh, we agree." One of the angels expresses and steps forward. "Which is why you need to learn a lesson~!" She's so pretty; is such a shame her personality is rotten.

You latched onto the front of your towel as you stepped back, only for the locker to shock you with the contrast of heat. 

"I-I'm sure I'm innocent." You're losing your voice, becoming guttural like you had been screaming it away. "What did I do?"

A human girl latches her hand on your bicep and tugs you so hard that you nearly slip on the cold concrete ground. 

"You need to be reminded of your place." 

Before you can attempt to de-escalate the situation, your other arm is latched onto, and you're being dragged away. 

There is no grip on your bare feet that you are just sliding on the floor. You can only hold onto that thin towel to keep even a bit of your modesty. 

"Stop it! Hey!" They bring you closer to the exit, where loud chattering emanates from. Classmates and other students must fill the large open area where the hallway had opened up for gatherings. 

Your elbow slams back, knocking into one of the girl's noses. She gasps, and blood immediately begins to trickle down. 

She licks it while a terrifying sneer forms on her plump lips. "You bitch!" Her hand latches onto the back of your knotted, wet hair as two others open the door. 

They managed to drag you through the door and thrust you outwards so you fall forward. You're barely able to catch yourself, striking your knees on tile that immediately spurred an onset of blood to stream down your shins. 

Laughter...Laughter reverberates outwards, so loud that the vibrations echo beneath the ground. 

You feel sick. 

The one you had hit grasped onto the back of your hair again. She tugged your head upwards to look at everyone while also grabbing onto the bottom of your jaw. 

At least more than half of your grade had congregated in this massive area, and they surrounded you like a school of fish.

"Look, everyone! It's the girl who thinks she's better than us!" 

Ice runs through your veins, so cold that it's a burning sensation. The insides of your throat swell up, depriving you of air. 

You're scared.

You're humiliated. 

They're laughing at you, their giggles and cheers so deafening it's as though they are bursting your eardrums. 

"Come on!" A different girl locks onto your wrist and pulls you to your feet with her pure strength. "Where did all that entitlement go!?" 

Not even a second after you are standing, were you kicked down and forced to collapse on your bruised and rived knees. 

A strangled gasp wheezed from your lips as the inner corner of your eyes stung. Tears clouded your conjunctiva before trickling down your heated face. 

"Doesn't she deserve a little humility!?" Courses of 'yes' and cheers echo like the booms of fireworks. They begin chanting...chanting to take everything away. 

These people wanted to ruin you. 

Your hand holding up the towel was yanked away as another gripped the cloth to tear it off your body. 

"No!" Just as you finally release your voice, a vociferous snapping sound overtakes the shouting and replaces it with gasps. 

Scarlet red eyes meet your gaze as his wings tear apart the binds and extend outwards, knocking nearly half the crowd to the ground. 

He practically teleported in front of your figure to yank you up to your feet by one of your wrists and hold you tight to his body. 

The massive size of his wings is not just for show as he flaps them; the force sends everyone tumbling away, skidding across the ground and hitting the walls. 

You cannot breathe, even with your lungs expanding and retracting vigorously and your mouth gulping in the air like a fish; lightheadedness only grows more intense. 

Zagan's burly arm wraps firmly around your back as he hauls you back into the locker room, the male locker room. 

A clamorous cry echoes out from your lips as you grip his shirt, burrowing your nails in his thick, muscled waist. You didn't mean to cry, to wail out and release this visceral wail that rattles through your entire being.

He doesn't say a single word, merely picking your much smaller figure into a bridal position. His body heat contrasted against the chill of your damp person in such a way that you immediately succumb to his warm hold. 

To be against his body brings back so many memories, all before the fallout, before the trio became nothing anymore.

You've missed him so much. 

Why did it have to be this way?

The strength of your sobs worsens, racking through your bones. Zagan's wings surround the two of you, blocking out the light and muffling the sounds from outside.  

It's only the quiet hum of the internal conditioning and your blustering cries. Your face is hidden against his pecs, wetting his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind. 

He only continues to hold you like you're a cracked vase, precious, broken, and needing his undivided attention. 

Even though your nose is stuffed, this close proximity and protective surroundings of his wings allow you to smell his scent. 

Zagan smells like an early dawning, with fog concealing the world and honeydew drops garnishing the grass. 

This is not the smell of heaven, but damn, does it feel like paradise. 

Soon, without a single word being spoken, your cries cease to become hiccups and whimpers. Strength has dissipated from your muscles, leaving your entire being exhausted. 

You just want to fall asleep and never wake up. 

The demon boy leans his head down, and though it is void of light while swathed in his batty wings, you can feel his gaze on your face.

His one arm under your shoulder gingerly pushed up upwards so you were sitting on his lap. He held onto your bare thigh while allowing your head to rest on his shoulder. 

There are tingles erupting beneath his fingers that ignite your nerves. You've never been touched like this before.

"Better?" Not the voice of an angel, not the singing of the devil; it's something entirely different. Deeper, coarser, it's manly and rugged. 

The sound of it reminds you of a rustic cabin, lost in the woods with a fire burning in a stone pit. Everything, from the foundation to the wiring, was done by hand. 

It feels personal. 

Slackly, with barely any strength, you nod your head and raise a hand to swipe at your face. 

"...You...You still have it." 

It is obvious what he's referring to; that cold pendant abruptly feels warm at the mention of the necklace. You hadn't the heart to remove it or to throw it away. 

Doing so would be completely removing him from your life, even more than he already was. "Yeah..." You didn't want to tell him anymore. 

You can't tell him that sometimes you'd grip that necklace and pray that everything would revert back to the way it used to be. Or that you'd run your fingers on the engraving on the back, remembering when he was always there for you...always there until that event. 

Feeling him nod his head, his massive spiked wings part very carefully to let in the light. Zagan stands up to place your body in the spot he was just sitting in and strides over to a wall of lockers. 

The way he just manhandles you sends shivers across your stomach and farther down.

He undoes the lock and shuffles through a bag before turning to face your figure. You can't believe the man standing in front of you is Zagan. 

This is really the same nerd who had to look up at you; now you have to crane your neck even to meet his gaze. 

It's really been four years without even acknowledging one another.

"Here, It's obviously not going to fit, but it's better than nothing." Zagan murmurs as he steps closer to lay a set of clothes on your lap. 

That sweater...he still had that same dark red sweater that you bought him once at the mall. You said it went well with his eyes, made them as bright as stars. 

It most definitely doesn't fit him now, which means he's kept it even after he had finally developed. 

"I'm going to turn around to make sure no one comes in while you change." 

His speech breaks you from your thoughts. You peek upwards just as he folds his wings and trekks over to the locker room door. 

You feel more self-conscious now with Zagan's back turned than you did in front of the other students. The tips of your ears are burning along with your cheeks. 

It's almost like the clothes are made of glass the way you gently handle them and set them on the seat as you stand. Your body has long dried after the shower, yet you keep the towel over your shoulder as you shuffle on his attire. 

The sweater was soft, lined with cushiony fabric that felt nice against your skin. Without a bra or support system, you were lucky it was rather oversized and thick to obscure your chest. 

Next is the pair of black fleece sweatpants. You end up fitting it well; you're definitely sure that this was from when he was smaller. 

Luckily, there's a drawstring that you end up tying to tighten at your waist. 

"I'm done." You meant for your voice to be firm, but it's gravelly and coarse, as if you need to clear your throat. 

He tilts his head back to look, but he audibly sucks in a breath of air before flinging his head in another direction. One hand covers his mouth as the other holds onto the wall for support

Your brows crease tightly, and your fingers form into fists in the sleeves that are too long for you. "Is something wrong?"  

It took a short moment for him to clear his throat. He shook his head as if he were freeing himself from thoughts while extending a large, coarse hand outward. "Grab my hand, and I'll take you home." 

It's as though he steals the air right out of your lungs.   

After everything? After what you said to him, after dropping him...he's still caring for you. 

You want to hit him. If only he didn't accuse Javan of what he said, nothing would have changed. 

"I-I can go home on my own." You state, yet it only prompts him to click his tongue and step forward. 

He immediately dwarfs your smaller stature by his much larger one. The demon peers down with an unknown expression, one where you can't even tell what he's thinking. 

Those gorgeous wings of his softly flutter to gain your attention just as one corner of his succulent lips quirk upwards. "And miss the chance to fly?"

How right he was. 

As kids, you begged them to take you flying. One of them would hold you close and raise you to the sky so you could feel utterly weightless. 

Nothing mattered while you soared, not your f*cked up family, not your unrequited love, nothing at all but that freedom. 

You haven't felt it in four years because Javan was always too busy and Zagan...

"Fine." It whispers from your lips as you shift your gaze away. "Just home, please." 

His small, angled eyes squinted as if he knew what you were thinking while he nodded his head. "Let's go." He states and reaches for one of your hands. 

That warmth surrounds you again as he holds on tight and departs from the male locker room. It's empty within the common area; seems that everyone knew better to leave than to stick around and face the poster boy's wrath. 

It's sunny outside as you both exit through a side door. The sun is high, with a few fluffy white clouds clumped together. You were maneuvered into a new position, one where Zagan held your body in the bridal position again before taking off. 

Those massive wings of his are so powerful, so strong that he could probably outfly any fighter jet. He's arrived in the sky in the blink of an eye.

Wind is whipping around your baby hairs and striking against your face, yet you welcome the little stings. 

You're light, fluid, and weighed down by nothing in this moment. Zagan's flying through the clouds, allowing your fingers to feel the slight chill and moisture like before. 

It earned a laugh from your lips, a genuine one that hasn't graced your face in a long, long time. The demon's grip grew tighter at the sound of laughter and peeked down at your face. 

Your eyes met for a second, and his lips parted as though he desired to speak, but they shut upon arriving in your neighborhood. 

Not yet; you didn't want to go home just yet. 

"We could fly around a little longer." Your eyes fling upwards to meet his as he swallows. "If you want, that is." 

No, no, you don't want to go home at all. 

You feel an ache in your stomach, a burn in your eyes, and a pressure in your throat.

Doesn't he hate you at all? 

"Just...Just take me home, please." You spoke a lie, and god should have struck you down right then and there. 

How is it that you both look-feel so dejected?

The scarlet-eyed demon descends from his high place in the sky to your window on the second floor. You manage to crack it open before slipping inside and shifting around to face the dirty blond-haired man. 

He hovered in his spot, taking in the view of your bedroom after so long. All the pictures of him are gone; all the gifts he's given you are nowhere in sight. 

"I'll uh-" His tongue fiddles with the lip ring as he drops his gaze. "I'll get your bag from school and bring it over."

You want to tell him not to worry about it, but you do not trust your voice, so you merely nod your head. 

Zagan mimics your action and lightly taps the windowsill before flying away. Your puffy eyes follow and watch his figure until he's too far to be seen. 

Too far gone. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂ 

When Zagan returned from gathering your things from the school, he lightly tapped on your window to gain your attention. 

However, he received no response, none at all. The blinds were pulled together so that he couldn't see inside...nor feel your presence. 

The demon knocked again, a little louder this time, with again no response. He reacted without thinking, thrusting up the old window and nearly tearing off the blinds.

It was the same as he saw earlier: slightly messy, books splayed open, clothes folded but not put away, yet there was something different. 

On the bench by the window was the folded set of clothes he allowed you to wear...and a note on top. His fingers were shaky for some reason, filled with dread as if he were inches away from death. 

Flipping it open displayed just a few words with messy handwriting, like writing in a rush. 

《

I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore goodbye

》

The paper tore in his grasp while the pair of fangs in his mouth elongated and sharpened. Every muscle within his body tensed and constricted. 

F*ck, f*ck, f*ck! 

This can't be happening!

You can't be gone! 

He tried to control his breathing, attempting to calm himself just the slightest so he could figure out where the f*ck you had gone. 

But your scent is decamped with not a trace of or trail leading anywhere. Even your presence, the very feeling of your soul, is nowhere close. 

He can't feel it, he can't feel you. 

After years of saying it, knowing you so well, even after four years of disregarding each other, he knows you did it. 

You ran away. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Twenty-Two Years Old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Continuing on in pt.2

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Short and dramatic, but it's better than nothing, right? This had been in the drafts for a long time, but I decided to break it up into 2 parts just to get it out. It also allows me to focus on the second act of the story. 

This is setting up for pt.2, where all the drama is going to unfold. The reader gets found and realizes the truth, more daddy Zagan screen time (he's gonna be in a gang hehe), and Javan is confronted. There's gonna be fistfights, tears, and a lot of sl*tty demon s*x. 

Psst, I'll let you in on a little secret. The Lamia household has lots of siblings, right? Well, certain demons have a little...hmm, how do I say this...have a breeding trait passed down through generations. Jahi has it, which explains the seven children, and well...Zagan's very much like his mother.

Which makes him a 'Breeding Bull'. So that's something to look forward to in pt.2 ;)

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳If you'd like to support me or read 30+ drafts of TDMLM or my other stories, please consider buying me Kofi. You can find the link on my profile! Thank you :) 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚 signing out

[creampie-capital]

║The Half-Fae Police man║║━ Pt. 3 ━║

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Male Monster x Fem! Reader

Word count║23,548

The Devil May Lick Me Masterlist ━━━➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞

↳ ║The Half-Fae Police man║║━ Pt. 1 ━║

↳ ║The Half-Fae Police man║║━ Pt. 2 ━║

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Photo Reference Cred ━━━➤ Found on Pinterest, so I'm unable to cred the artist. If you know who created the image, please let me know.

Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately.

Now onto the story :)

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"You're kidding!"

Ambrose grinned while shutting his rust-red eyes and leaning in the booth. "I cannot lie, my love." He hums.

A frown replaced the smile that was once on your lips while you settled down your half-eaten burger. "I know we've been together for some months, but moving in? Isn't that a little too fast?" You murmur carefully, although you can't help but feel warm from his dedication to your relationship.

The police chief shrugged his shoulders like it were not such a significant matter. He merely munched on a few of those deliciously salty and crunchy fries while continuing his handsome smile.

"I suppose it is a little fast, but honestly, I'm f*ckin stressed with you still working all those jobs and staying in that bad part of town." The half-Fae states. "You're still pushing yourself like you've got fines to pay, and the idea of still working to the bone makes me feel like an incompetent boyfriend."

You hum in acknowledgment before reaching over to hold his free hand. He's quick to respond, rubbing his thumb over the burn scar in soft, tender strokes.

"If I move in with you, then I'll feel like I'm mooching off of you. You're already well off, so how will I contribute? And then there's Tyrion, and he's already in the middle of his semester. And-And then there's also my dad-"

"(Y/n)." He cuts you off and squeezes your conjoined hands. Your lips purse curtly while your shoulders sag. "I know it's a lot and a bit fast in our relationship, but I'm only offering it because I care and want to make things as easy as possible for you." The man suddenly grins again and presses one of his fries to your lips. "If it makes you feel any better, I've already mentioned the idea to Tyrion, and he was on board."

You sigh but munch on the delicacy. "Of course he is. What sixteen-year-old would give up the chance to live in a mansion and be catered to by servants?"

Continuing to feed you his fries, the police officer nods his head in agreement before resuming his persuasion. "You don't need to make your decision now, but the offer will always be on the table. If you do, then you'll have the chance to do whatever you like finally. Maybe a hobby or a sport. Baby, it can be anything that you want now that you finally have the time to be selfish."

His offer is very tempting, and it is not something you can just disregard or tell him no. For years now, you have been working day and night to cover all kinds of bills and necessities.

The selfish ideas of ever continuing your education or finding a career you'd enjoy were so very distant that they would have not even existed at all.

But it has been so long that you really do not know what you would like to do. What do you even like? What is there to do if you had all that free time?

And there was also the situation with your father. He's a terrible human being who abused and neglected his ex-wife and children. His jealousy and obsession ate him alive and turned him into a repulsive creature who was left to rot in his room.

But even as awful as he was, the man was still your father. And you know just because you share the same blood doesn't mean you have to care, but you cannot help it.

If you were to kick him out of the house and have him fend for himself, he'd be homeless and jobless on the streets. Always drunk and highly inebriated, he could easily be killed or taken advantage of.

You hated him for how he treated Tyrion, but abandoning him would make you feel just like your estranged mother. And you'd rather be caught dead than be anything like that woman.

"Alright, Ambrose. I'll think about it."

The half-Fae appears to grimace as you speak his name. He raises your conjoined hands to his face, where he allows your fingers to graze over his warm lips. "Can you also think about calling me something other than my name? I'm your boyfriend. After all, be a little more loving."

"Okay, then I call you my moneybag."

Ambrose shrugs his shoulder but sighs with a lopsided smile. "A wins a win."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The fragrance of curry fills the kitchen first before invading every room of your home. A random video plays from your laptop on one of the counters.

It was one of those rare nights you had off from the hostess club, Sin Maria. Usually, you'd retire to your bedroom to get extra sleep, but considering the fact that it has been a while since you've cooked, it would be nice to make something fresh.

Though your cooking usually clears your head, you can't help but continue to think about Ambrose's offer a week ago. You still haven't provided him with a clear answer, and you really don't think you can any time soon.

Your gaze wanders across the kitchen walls to the tiled floors. There were so many memories in this place, many before your mother left that have you standing there missing the nostalgia.

Never had you ever given the thought of leaving this place. It was your childhood home, and as someone that didn't like change, you preferred what was familiar.

You sigh and lower the turner to simmer, and begin washing the dishes. Tyrion and Ambrose should be home soon, and they're probably starving.

The policeman was already so f*cking big, so it was a no-brainer that he ate just as much. And your brother was still a growing boy but towered over you like you were the younger one.

Even if you ate like them, you'd never reach their height or build.

"We're back!"

Tyrion's muffled voice from the foyer brings you back from your thoughts. "Hi, boys. Everything went okay?" You ask while finishing the dishes.

You can hear their heavy footsteps near, and when your partner's warm hands caress your hips and kiss just below your jaw, you practically melt.

Who would have thought there would be a man out there that holds you close and make you forget all your worries?

Definitely not you.

"Thank god(s) you made curry. I wanted something thick and filling." Tyrion murmurs as he removes his jacket and shuffles onto the high chair at the island.

"Lucky sh*t," Ambrose whispers before leaning down to kiss your lips real quick. "I'd love to stay for supper tonight, but I've got a family dinner with my relatives."

You feel slightly dejected and disheartened, but you push it aside. He wasn't your first love, but he still tends to make you feel like a young girl obsessed with her relationship.

"I see. I hope everything goes alright. Just keep me updated, okay?" Although you try to hide it, you know the older man can tell you are upset.

He tends to know your emotions better than you do.

One of his hands rises to caress your face as his rust-red eyes meet yours. He's in his officer uniform with his dark bomber jacket still on. Even his utility belt with his weapon and cuffs was still around his hips.

"I'll make it up by cooking for you next week when I sleep over. It'll be your favorite meal and everything."

You attempt to fight a smile, but you cannot hide it from him. Nodding your head, he places a lingering kiss on your lips before peering over at your brother.

"Take care of your sister, yeah? I'll be over tomorrow morning to pick you up for work." He states. Tyrion nods his head with an exhausted expression but does not fight back like he used to.

He's gotten the hang of his new schedule, and though he likes to complain about being babysat, you know he genuinely enjoys working beside the police chief.

With the larger man leaving, it was just the two of you left in the kitchen.

"How big of a bowl do you want, Tyrion?"

"A big one with a lot of rice."

It's nice and comfortable as the both of you settle in the living room on the couch. You put on a show that you usually watched for dinner and ate in a cozy silence.

When you were nearly done with your meal, your brother began to speak up.

"I'm ready for a new change." He abruptly murmurs with his green eyes still focused on the screen.

You swallow the bite in your mouth and shift your body to face him. "Hmm, what do you mean?"

He doesn't respond at first before laying down his empty bowl on the coffee table. "I mean... It would be a good idea to accept Ambrose's offer. If we move, then I'll have to change schools, but honestly, I don't mind. I'd rather go somewhere else where no one knows me than stay at the academy with people that look at me like I'm just a problem every day."

Tyrion sighs and leans back in his seat. "Everyone knows what happened at Everlong Crest. The kids talk about me behind my back everywhere I go, and since the news reported that we were affiliated with the Rigels, they want to get close to me to be near his money." You can hear the exhaustion in his voice and feel his sincerity. "I hate this place. I hate my used-to-be friends. I really don't want to be here anymore."

You don't know what to say. There has been a lot you've done for the benefit of your brother, and putting him in that overly-expensive academy was one of your ways to give him a better future.

Your eyes descend from his face to your left arm, where the burn scars are visible.

For as long as you can remember, you've done everything on your own.

The thought of asking others for helping or accepting others' generosity would make you sick to your stomach. People could easily take advantage of your need for help and spin it around on you.

Just like your desperation months ago to pay for the fine.

Sometimes, you swear you can still smell the stench of your burning flesh, a horror that still keeps you up at night.

"Tyrion.." You sigh and set your bowl down as well to scoot closer to your sibling. He refuses to look at you, even as you grasp his hand and hold it tight. "Are you sure? We'll be moving to a whole new area. You'll be put in a new private academy in the middle of your school year. And we'll be using Ambrose's generosity. Who knows what-"

"Do you really think Ambrose would manipulate us just because he's helping?" The green-eyed boy questioned as he finally turned to face you. "He's not like everyone else who has hurt us. I trust him."

Your lips are pursed tightly together as you take in his words. Ever since the fire at Everlong Crest, you've become even more closed off from asking for help. That fear of being lied to and betrayed still lingers so heavily in the back of your head.

It was your own flesh and blood that looked you in the eyes and said you should be thankful for her help.

"I...I'm still thinking about it. Quitting all my jobs and moving everything we have into Ambrose's home feels like we're intruding. He already has everything that it's hard to help or offer assistance in anything."

Nodding his head of dark hair, the boy descends slowly until his head rests on your lap, and he covers his face with his arms. It's dark in the living room except for the glowing light of the Tv.

There's a lot to think about...can you really be selfish and leave everything behind to be cared for and pampered by Ambrose Rigel? Will he ever betray you? Will he ever threaten his support to get you to do what he wants?

You love him, that is for sure, and if anything were ever to happen...you don't know how you will ever make it through.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Your stomach rolled and coiled, and sweat beaded down the side of your face as your right leg bounced against the floor in an erratic manner.

In the meeting room, your coworkers sat around, either bored or exhausted, whilst your manager dragged on about the monthly production rating.

His voice was mind-numbing, and the sound was annoying you more than anything. Everything seemed to aggravate you like a pot of hot water about to boil over.

The cathartic taps of rain against the office windows had your fingers twitching and desiring to form into a fist. Beeping and mechanic whirring from the printers and scanners could have blown your damn eardrums apart.

"-/n). (Y/n)...(Y/n)!"

Like being pulled out of the water, your eyes flung to your manager's hazel ones as he frowned beneath his beard.

"I-I'm sorry, what were yous saying?" You ask after clearing your throat and anxiously smoothing out the ends of your pencil skirt.

His small nose scrunched as he sighed. "It's time for your monthly report on our data intake and input." He states while settling in his seat at the head of the table.

"Oh." You swallow thickly and nod your head even though a wave of vertigo is sweeping through your skull. "Y-Yes, of course."

You stood to your feet and stalked over to the live whiteboard. The beating of your heart felt so strong yet so slow in your chest.

The irregular palpations had risen to your ears and overtook every other minuscule racket that boiled your blood.

Was the floor caving in, or was your mind just playing tricks on you? You attempted to grasp the pointer on the desk by the wall, but you missed and grabbed nothing but air.

"What?" You attempted it again, only for your coordination to be completely off and your knees to give out. Your body tumbles into the desk, and though you try to grasp the edge to catch your fall, there is no strength in your limbs to do as such.

The first thing to strike the floor was the right side of your hip before your head collided with the carpeted floor of the meeting room.

You can hear your co-workers speaking and yelling, but you can't understand a single thing. It was like you were underwater, with liquid filling your lungs and pressure building in your head.

Strength in your body dissipates, and the last thing you saw was the blurry figures of the other workers hovering above you.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

It felt like only a second had passed by the time you opened your eyes again. Instead of hearing the slowed palpations of your heart, you hear the rhythmic mechanical beeping of a heart rate monitor beside you.

Your eyes weigh heavy with exhaustion, desiring to remain closed, but the scenery before you were not the office meeting room.

There is a tv hanging from the ceiling in the corner of the room that plays some old Spanish telenovela. It's muffled with your monitor being the loudest noisemaker in the place.

Ambrose is on your left, slumped in a chair by your hospital bed. His muscular arms are crossed over his broad chest while his head is dipped down to signify that he is asleep.

On your right is Tyrion, who held onto your hand as he leaned over and slept on your bed. His face is turned the other way, but the grip on your fingers is rather firm.

You attempt to speak, but it seems your throat is nothing but dry sandpaper. Rough, coarse, and painful, you needed anything to drink.

Thankfully there appeared to be a pitcher on a small table by the Chief's side.

"Oh, baby, you're awake."

You're so lethargic that what should have scared you merely felt like another normal moment. You peer over at the older man, who begins to pour you a glass of water and holds it to your lips.

"I'm glad you're awake now. Any longer, and I would have freaked." Ambrose murmurs as you drink so desperately.

You exhale a breath of hair through your nose like a laugh. The last time he freaked had been at the hotel when it was burning down. Everyone got to see what a powerful and talented Fae he was, even more so than a full-blooded one.

Luckily these poor overworked doctors did not have to deal with a worried and pissed-off police Chief.

"What happened? I was just at the office in the middle of a meeting." Your voice cracks and softens due to your unconsciousness, but the man still understands.

He reaches over with one of his large veiny hands to caress your leg, which is covered in a thin blanket, as he meets your eyes. "You passed out at work, and the ambulance had to bring you over to the hospital. They called Tyrion, who was with me, and we both rushed over as soon as we heard."

The right side of your head aches from where you hit it on the ground and prompts you to shift awkwardly. Through the large windows in your personal room, you can see that it was dark out with the moon hidden behind thick clouds.

Rain still pours from the storm across the city, thumping against buildings, and you could practically smell that petrichor scent.

"It was probably just the stress. There's been a lot on my mind, and it doesn't help that I haven't been eating as much." You try to joke and smile to lighten the mood, but it appears the usually goofy half-Fae wasn't grinning this time.

You immediately dropped your expression and subconsciously squeezed the hand that your brother was holding.

"You're not wrong; it was partially the stress. But baby..." He swallows thickly. "The doctors said you are pregnant." Your eyes enlarge and pop out of their sockets as your lips fall agape.

Maybe you misheard him; the Tv probably distracted you for a moment.

"You're three months pregnant, and the stress of you constantly working and not caring for yourself had your body overwhelmed." He states, the warmth of his hand nearly burning your skin.

"I-I..." You don't know what to say. It should have been expected, considering how intense and loving Ambrose is...and how everything you do provokes him to give you 'your reward.'

Though, there really had never been a moment you ever thought of being pregnant. Life had not had you in their favor, and it had just been about enduring until the next day.

For the longest time, it's just been you and Tyrion. You were each other's family; nobody else needed to be part of it.

But now there's a baby growing inside of you. It was your child...yours and Ambrose Rigel's. Your very, very small and minuscule family tree just grew exponentially.

Ambrose's hand on the left side of your jaw gained your attention. He smiles as he caresses your skin, and the magic from his fingertips manages to calm your raging mind.

"I know it's so sudden and a lot to take in, but baby, I'm so f*cking happy. I love you so much, and this-" His other hand finds its place atop your stomach, which you hadn't even noticed was slightly pooched. "-I wouldn't want to be having a child with anyone other than you. You're the love of my life and family. No one can ever replace that."

A sting in the inner corner of your eyes began to ache as tears welled over in your eyes. His comforting hands, his genuine words, and that loving look in his eyes had you feeling overwhelmed, but in a good way.

Ever since Ambrose showed up in your life, he's done nothing but help you. He's given you so much good, allowing you to look forward to the joys of partnership.

He was the best male role model your brother needed and the best support system that you weren't even looking for.

"I'm not trying to pressure you, my love. But now I'm even more adamant that you both move in with me. You're working two jobs for no reason." The half-Fae leans closer. "All that stress while not taking care of your body can have you get really sick, baby. I thought I lost you in that fire, and it was like having my whole world destroyed. If anything else happens-If, I really do lose you. I swear I-"

You cease his rambling by covering his lips with your free hand. He's confused at first, but as you grace him with a small smile, he calms and releases his boxed shoulders.

"It's not easy for me to just let you do everything. But I trust you."

Sharing a grin, you both lean into a soft and tender kiss that feels so affectionate.

"Alright, it's time for me to go." Tyrion suddenly speaks as he rises from his slouched position and rubs his eyes.

You don't scowl or grimace. Instead, you reached to scratch his head. "Guess you should start packing, Prince."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

You returned home that night, exhausted but filled with so many emotions due to the news. Ambrose decided to sleep over, becoming suddenly even more protective than he already was.

His arms were even more secure as they held you to his chest. The scent of him holds you in a bubble of comfort, and his presence makes you feel like you're the most protected person in the world.

In the morning, he nearly missed work to stay home with you. Worrying over leaving you home alone was tying him down, but with a kick in his butt, you managed to get him and Tyrion out of the house in time.

You were supposed to work at the office as well, but you called in and quit. Usually, you would have given two weeks' notice, but a.) Ambrose probably was already going to have you move before that. and b.) you hated that f*cking place.

The old yokai from the hostess club was more understanding as you told her the news. She had watched over and wanted the best since you joined years ago.

It feels as though she's more satisfied that you found a competent and rich partner than finally getting to quit working, but you know she's happy that you're happy.

Now...the biggest issue was your father. You didn't know what to say or how to break the news to him. Thankfully, Ambrose decided to take it into his own hands. While you were at your jobs to pick up your things one day, you came home to find that your estranged father was nowhere to be seen.

That's when the half-Fae informed you that he had Sorren transferred over to an institution for supposedly 'people like him.'

You didn't want to know more. He's someone you don't want to be involved in your family anymore. He's just another x on the tree.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Oh, wow." You murmur as you lean over through the open truck window. Ambrose lived in the rich neighborhood of the city where the sky was bluer, the air was more breathable, and the houses were several stories bigger.

Your old home was situated on the farthest side of the city, and this drive was at least an hour and a half long. To think your partner had been driving so far to be at your house and to work at the station.

This was going to be the view you'd see every day, the streets you'd now walk through when you needed a breath of fresh air.

Tatiana Belle Lane was where your new home was situated; it's your new address, your new identity.

Where the rich look down at the poor beneath these hills.

You suddenly grow very anxious, shifting in your seat. It was so sudden and hasty, a pregnancy and a new move.

"I can feel your nervousness from here." Ambrose's voice cuts through your fluctuating thoughts as he reaches over to grasp one of your hands. "It's okay to feel like that, my love. I know it's a big change."

His warmth is so reassuring, and the tingling sensation of his magic really grounds you in your place.

It feels like you've been through so much that you're afraid to be happy. Was it all fake? Will this new life be ripped away?

"Right here. Your guy's new home."

You and Tyrion's jaws drop as fancy golden gates part, and the half-fae continues down a long driveway.

All throughout your relationship, you hadn't once stayed over at his house. It was out of your way for work that you hadn't once accepted his offer, well, until now.

The home is modern, but instead of being made of sleek material, it is more like a comforting home of bricks and stone. Made of four floors and what appeared like three different extended garages, wealth seeps into the air and spurs your stomach to roil.

Or was that just your baby doing front flips?

Pulling up by the front, Ambrose shuts off his truck and exits the vehicle. You're slow and tedious as you undo your seatbelt, but the half-Fae is already by your side to help you out of your seat.

"Come on, Tyrion. I'll show you to your room." He beckons your brother over so the three of you can enter together.

His hands were firmly around your body, and you were sure it was to keep you upright from the sight of money everywhere.

Just like the outside, everything inside could easily be discerned as expensive and luxurious—fine walls, chandeliers, maids, and butlers who bowed while going on with their jobs.

"Do you think if I stayed here long enough, I'd become gold?" The young teen murmurs to himself as his green optics shimmer in amazement.

Both you and your partner share a laugh before the Chief walks the two of you on a tour. There were so many rooms, so many hallways and corridors that you were going to have to remember.

Tyrion's bedroom, study, gaming room, and observatory were on the east wing on the third floor, while yours were situated on the west.

Your baby's nursery was already set up close to yours, and the sight nearly brought you to tears. It felt so surreal to see it.

You were really pregnant, growing a baby that is a part of you and Ambrose. The tiny family you were breaking your back to care for had grown like a flower blossoming.

And that flower had become rooted in better nutrients, where it didn't have to fight for sunlight or scavenge for water.

Everything it needed was provided.

Leaving your brother to get situated in his new bedroom, Ambrose settled you on the vast and luxurious mattresses covered in (soft/smooth) sheets and comforters.

He kneels in front of you to hold one of your hands while caressing the small of your back.

"You okay, baby? You look like you're about to pass out." He jests while smiling that handsome grin and cocking his head of sepia brown hair.

You nod your head and focus on his face, viewing his rust-red eyes that glimmer like jewels and pale skin that flushes brightly when he blushes.

"It's just...a lot, you know? This big home, maids and servants...this just isn't me. Everything I owned, I worked for."

The half-Fae nods his head in understanding and holds you close. "I know there's so much going on; a new home, our baby, but this is what you deserve. You deserve to be pampered-" He leans forward to kiss your nose. "-and spoiled." His lips drag down to reach your lips, where he graces you with a deep and intimate kiss.

He's lowered his smoking intake after being informed of your pregnancy, so the taste of tobacco on his tongue is not as potent as usual. It's more of strawberries and mango.

Gingerly you are pushed onto your back as he holds down one of your hands above your head while caressing your pooched tummy over your sweater.

The scent of spices mixed with his masculine fragrance practically makes you drunk in your spot. Your mind melts like ice, and your strength weakens to where it feels as if he were sucking the energy out of you.

His massive hand on your belly migrates to slip in through the hem of your leggings, but before he can go farther, his phone rings from the back pockets of his dark jeans.

Ambrose pulls away with an annoyed huff and snatches the device from the pouch. He glances at the screen and sighs as he gets off you to answer the call.

"Hey, dad." He speaks while wiping his mouth with the back of his costly button-up. "Yeah, (Y/n) and Tyrion are here and are getting settled into their rooms."

You sit up to center your ragged breathing and clench your thighs to alleviate the need for friction. The human father and full-blooded Fae mother live very close to the main building, just off in one of the annexes less than a minute's walk away.

It feels weird to be spoken of by his parents, but it's like they acknowledge your presence and your relationship with their son.

"Mmm, it's already a lot for her right now, so I don't know about that," Ambrose states as he glances over at your figure. You tilt your head curiously, and apparently, you must have looked so cute because the older man blushed like fresh flowers took their place on his cheeks.

He rushes over to kiss your lips in a desperate manner so that you can feel his magic spike and shoot warmth through your veins.

"Mhm." He murmurs while grasping the back of your head and deepening your intimate closeness. The talking on the other end is mumbled and barely coherent, but you can make out your name being mentioned a few times.

Abruptly pulling away, he sighs and glances down to meet your hazy gaze. "Fine, I'll ask." The Chief pulls away his phone to provide a little privacy. "My parents want to come over for dinner to meet you and your brother."

"H-Huh!?" You exclaimed while your eyes nearly bug out. It hasn't even been a day since you've come to your new home, but now his parents want to meet you!?

Yes, you do hold their grandchild in your tummy, but it feels all so sudden.

Easily taking your shocked reaction as an answer, he brought the phone back to his ear and answered with a bit of annoyance. "She's not feeling good, so not tonight. Now goodbye."

"Wait!" You called and grasped one of his firm forearms. Ambrose raises a thick brow out of confusion, and for a moment, you feel rather timid. "I-It's okay. Dinner shouldn't be too bad."

The older man seems worried by your answer. "Baby, are you sure? We can reschedule for another day when you've settled and are more comfortable." He offers.

His words bring you comfort and remind you of the many reasons why you love his man. With you, he's so considerate and caring. Your feelings are a priority to him, and before he does anything, he asks for your opinion first.

"Yes. Better sooner than later, and I'm going to meet them eventually, considering they often stay in the main building."

"Ah, if you weren't already pregnant, I'd be giving you a baby right now." Ambrose gushes, his face flushing as he kisses your lips once more before standing to his feet. "If the dinner doesn't drag on too long, it should be alright. Around six in the main building? We'll have some vegetarian options as well."

They speak not too long before the call ends, and he returns his full attention to you. Your tummy is so warm from his gaze that you don't think that you can get used to it.

"Do you want to shower now or take a nap before getting ready?" He sought while taking a seat next to you on the massive bed.

You meet his gaze, a mischievous gaze glinting in your eyes. "If I shower now, you should join me then."

A smirk grows on his lips, and before you can even react, he sweeps you into his arms like a fresh new bride. A squeal echoes out as you clutch onto the back of his neck in surprise.

"Oh, baby. We've got a little time before dinner, so I think I'll snack on you for a bit."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"(Y/n), if you keep fixing my damn hair like this, it's all going to fall off." Tyrion laments which freezes your movements.

You stand stagnant, realizing your hands have been combing through his hair anxiously as the time nears closer.

"Sorry." You whisper and drop your hands by your side. The first time you meet your boyfriend's parents, it's when you're pregnant, just moved in, and now no longer working.

They probably are going to think you are some freeloader that trapped their son with a baby.

Ambrose's hands settle on your hips and keep you from toppling over. "It's okay, my love. You can go to our room, and I'll send someone to bring over dinner so you can eat in private." He offers while meeting your gaze.

Even through everything, your feelings are what matter. But it probably would look bad if you left right now.

"No, it's alright. I-I think I need to sit down." Your brother and boyfriend help you into a seat at the head of the table as you drink from your water cup.

"Rose. My dear, we are here." The voice of an older woman infiltrates the corridors of the mansion, and you immediately freeze up in your seat.

You can literally feel the authority reeking in her tone. His mother was a cutthroat businesswoman who was the reason why they had the money they did now.

All of these luxuries were because of her, and she could take them away as she deemed fit.

"Mom, dad, glad to see you both in good health," Ambrose announces as he leaves your side to meet his parents at the entrance of the dining hall.

He hugs his father first, who is nearly the spitting image of himself. The same sepia brown hair, only greying at the roots. They share the same prominent jaw shape and physical build. Their both tall, and their presence holds space.

But then your eyes divert to his mother, and your blood runs cold like ice. She, too, was tall, at 6'3 (190 cm), with a slender build. Cold rust red eyes stared into yours, and her golden hair pulled into a thick tight bun at the top of her head hardened her expression.

Wearing a navy blue blouse and a similar colored skirt that reaches the ground, you see the confidence in her stance, not to mention the eye-catching and massive wings that looked so ethereal and sprouted from her upper back.

"(Y/n)'s not feeling well, so I apologize if she doesn't stand. Come meet her." He ushered them both closer to your figure in the seat, and you swear you're shrinking under their gaze.

"Mom, dad, this is my partner and the woman with your grandchild. This is (Y/n) and her younger brother Tyrion. (Y/n), Tyrion, this is my father, Oberon, and my mother, Ursula."

What you had not expected was for the father to smack the back of Ambrose's head and tug on his ear. "You little sh*t! Your partner looks like she could pass out right now, and you're forcing her to attend dinner with all of us?" He reprimands him harshly.

"N-No!" You catch their attention as you rise from your seat while holding onto the table to keep yourself up. "He desired for me to rest, but I said I wanted to be here for dinner to meet you both."

Oberon releases his son to hold his hands together and turns to face his wife. "Look at her; she's being so cute!" He gushes though the wife's stern expression remains the same as she stares at you.

"Well, we shouldn't let the mom-to-be starve any longer," Urusula states while taking a seat at the other end of the table. "Let's commence with the dinner."

You sink into your seat as Tyrion gives you a sympathetic look. "Just say the word; I'll start a distraction so you can leave." He whispers.

This was a serious moment, but you couldn't help but crack a smile and push him away to his seat. "Alright, I'll let you know."

Once everyone settled down and took a seat at the table, servants came in with delicacies and cuisines only those fancy restaurants would serve for hundreds of dollars. Ambrose, Oberon, and Ursula do not seem phased at all at the sight, but you and Tyrion share a side-eye expression.

No one speaks at first, everyone just eating to their heart's content with the adults drinking wine. God(s), you could go for a glass yourself if you weren't pregnant.

You glance down at your stomach beneath your turtleneck and breathe in deeply. Every once in a while, you need to remind yourself of this fact.

As much as you love this little thing in your tummy, it's hard to accept the reality that your body isn't just yours anymore. There's a baby completely dependent on you for safety, nutrients, and nurture.

"Is the food to your liking?"

Your vision shifts over to the golden-haired Fae, who swirls the wine in her glass. Her pomegranate-hued wings flicker behind her, and speckles of light fall from the tips.

"Oh, yes. I'm just not used to such cuisines; I usually cook at home."

"You cook?" She rephrases and crosses one leg over the other. "I should have you over the annex for a session then. Do you prefer Asian or European cuisines?"

"I don't have a preference." You respond and smile to appear as harmless as possible.

The older woman hums while nodding her head. "I see. I should have a nutritiousness doctor visit. It's obvious you don't eat well or often. Your body isn't your own anymore, and you should really remember that fact."

It feels like you are being reprimanded at the table, but you know she is right. Ambrose and Tyrion look over at you to see your expression, but you merely nod your head and resuming your eating.

"You are right, and I will. I thank you for your consideration and will follow through with the nutritiousness."

The golden-haired Fae nodded, too, as if she were pleased with your response. There's a small smile just barely noticeable on her face that she conceals behind a wine glass.

"You should rest more and lay off your feet. And also hold off on the intimacy until later on your pregnancy."

Your face burns at her words, and your boyfriend blushes in bright ruddiness. Tyrion scrunched his nose in disgust and turned to face you. "It's time to take my leave." He whispers.

"Mom." Ambrose nearly hisses, and she faces him like she is wrongfully being accused of a crime.

"What. You're the exact copy of your father, personality and all." She states while crossing her arms beneath her bust.

It was a moment where you couldn't help but laugh at the embarrassed expression of the half-Fae and his father. They both were making the exact sheepish gaze with their head dipped down, eyes closed, and twitching smiles.

You don't know what it was, but you found enjoyment in the scene. It's obvious he was relatively close with his parents, and they shared a connection of deep love.

But that was soon interrupted by the salivating in your mouth, the pressure in your throat, and a sharp stab to your stomach.

"Baby?" The Chief questions with all attention landing on your figure, but you are unable to respond as you bolt from your seat.

You're lucky a half bathroom was near, but the harsh burning of retching was less than desirable. Everything you just ate had left your stomach to desecrate the once clean basin.

Ambrose was quick to be by your side, grasping your hair to keep it away while rubbing soothing circles on your back.

Tears well in your eyes with the acid burning the back of your throat.

"My love, if I could take away all your pain, I'd do it in a heartbeat." Your boyfriend sounds so pained, like your distress was shared with him as well.

There's a knock at the door, followed by his mother speaking. "(Y/n), you should take a rest now. I'll be back to bring over some tea and some snacks I ate when I was pregnant." The older woman informs.

You want to thank her, but your focus has returned to the intense dry heaving.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Heh, you don't look very nervous."

Tyrion peered over at the older man beside him in the truck before leaning against his hand against the door. "It's whatever. All schools are the same." He murmured.

Ambrose laughed to himself while driving with one hand. He subconsciously reached for his pack of cigarettes, but after a moment, he realized what he was doing and shoved it into the side compartment of his vehicle.

"I went to this one back in my day, my brother and me."

Your brother's clover green eyes flickered to view the strong side profile of the Chief. "You don't talk about your brother often."

"Well, he's dead for one." Ambrose utters before reaching over to pat the top of the teen's head. "It's been years, but it's why I can understand your pain. It is traumatizing, something you just can't easily forget."

'Sh*t, why did I say ask that!?' Your sibling reprimands himself as he hides his mouth in the palm of his hand.

In the distance, they could see the massive private academy nearing. His old school was expensive and costly, but it barely compared to what he was seeing in front of him.

The air from his open window reminded him of the chief, infused with magic that was so warm it could be numbing.

"Hey, there's been something I've been wondering for a while." The green-eyed teen begins so he can gain the older man's attention. "I've always wondered why you work as a police chief and not take over your mom's position."

Ambrose licks his bottom lip before leaning back in his seat. "Mm, there's quite a few reasons, I guess. Originally the heir position was supposed to go to my older brother, Preston. After what happened, It was 'transferred' to me. But it didn't feel like it ever belonged to me, so I found something else that I enjoyed. Plus, I think it helps my mom to work still and busy herself so she doesn't think about it."

Tyrion hummed. "Do you think you'll ever quit as chief to take over?"

"I don't know." The sepia-haired man laughed and glanced over at your brother. "Maybe one day it'll be you who takes over."

Your brother feels his face heat up and snap away to hide his expression. "W-What about your own kid?" He questions.

"You are my kid." Tyrion had to swallow down a sob. "But they'll have a choice to be whatever they want when they grow up.

It's quiet in the vehicle, with not a single male speaking. Just quiet ambiance and the rumble of the vehicle.

Only after a bit does the half-Fae interrupt the silence. "There aren't many humans in the academy, but you have our family's pin, so wear it with pride."

Tyrion stomach rolls and flips. It wasn't 'My family'; it was 'Our Family.' It's still difficult to accept that it was no longer just you and him against the world. But the presence of Ambrose was like a father, and it felt too good to be real.

Sometimes, he fears that one day he's going to open his eyes and that all of this is just his imagination. He'll be right back at the old house, staring at his bedroom door and worrying if his father will ever step through.

"Everyone here comes from prominent families or clans. You'll meet other Fae's, Elves, and dragon descendants. They each wear a brooch to signify their 'power household'-" The sepia-haired adult rolled his eyes at the words but continued on. "-and you know its, the typical stuff where one feels more entitled than the other because their family has a deeper history or their ancestors won wars."

They pull up to the front, where other students are bustling around. Some wear wings like Ambrose's mother; others have pointed or angled ears, and a few even sport horns.

"But don't feel discouraged, and don't feel like you have to bow your head. The Rigel clan is a powerful and prominent family, and we hold our heads high."

It's a foreign concept to Tyrion. He's always felt like a lesser being to his old schoolmates, who looked down on him for being impoverished.

They took advantage of his desperate situation and manipulated his fitful heart to fill it with false recognition.

But things are different now.

Your brother and partner step out of the vehicle to enter the private academy. Ambrose hadn't been in the police uniform, instead dressed in a fine dark suit with a black button-up. He looked expensive and like a man that belonged to the Rigel family.

On the other hand, Tyrion wore the uniform for his sophomore grade. Dark slacks, a black button-up with a cyan-green vest.

The Rigel family brooch was a pair of gold wings encrusted with diamonds and a pearl-shaped blue diamond dangling from the middle of the wings.

Easily anyone could tell that this one simple brooch could buy the country. Never before did your brother think he'd be wearing something so precious and pricey.

"Come, let's go meet your headmaster." Ambrose articulated in a comforting tone as he placed his hand at the top of your bother's back in between his shoulder blades.

The students were eyeing them up as they passed, ceasing whatever they were doing to stand and watch.

He felt those judging eyes before who looked at him like he were filth. But now they seemed like the gaze of a predator, eyeing up the new bait.

"Mr. Rigel! I can't believe how much you've grown!" An older Fae with grey hair in a high ponytail and straight bangs exited an office to stalk over to the two. Her lilac eyes seemed to reminisce at the sight of the older man while holding her hands on her hips. "All big and tall, you look just like your mother!"

Tyrion snorted, which earned a small glare from Ambrose. "It's good to see you as well, Ms. Nimue. It appears like you haven't aged at all since my day."

The headmaster waves her hand like she is embarrassed before training her angled eyes on the teen. "This must be Tyrion. Hello, how are you, my boy?" She sought.

He feels nervous now. "Oh, I'm good, Ma'am."

Nodding her head, the older woman reaches down by a desk to grab a packet and hand it over. "For reasons, you'll find out later, your last name in the academy will be Rigel." She shared a wink with Ambrose and began down the wide corridors. "You appear to be farther ahead in your academies, so you should have no trouble settling in. Your home room is here; math, English, and creative writing will be over here in the Green Wings. The other courses are down by the Blue Wings."

The headmaster continues her tour, with Tyrion and Ambrose following behind. It is a huge academy, even larger than his old one. He's sure to struggle and get lost multiple times.

Other students continued their staring, but it wasn't a bother anymore. Not only was he wearing the Rigel family brooch, but he was also aided by Ambrose Rigel himself; no one would even think about messing with him.

Finally, the tour was done as they returned to the homeroom. "I trust you'll be good." Ambrose muses as he messes with the teen's styled hair. "I won't be able to pick you up after school since your sister and I will be at the hospital for natal care, so my dad will be here instead."

The headmaster holds her face like she is in disbelief. "I still cannot believe you finally have a child. I thought the bloodline would end with you." She gushes.

Your brother sighs, feeling exhausted already. "Alright. I'll see you later."

"Be safe, and remember what I told you. Oh, and try not to cause trouble."

"No promises."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Going from the kid everyone used to make fun of that came from that side of town to now the new guy everyone wanted to get to know...was a nuisance.

It was easy to tell that the other students were trying to suck up to him because he was a 'Rigel.' Apparently, good luck would come to those associated with the family, or so the legend goes.

Kids his own age wanted to carry his books or offer their snacks. They presented their notes and homework, anything to get on his good side.

He was getting sick of this.

In his last period, it was a study hall in the massive library that finally got him a chance to take a break. For the first time, he was alone and could finally think for himself.

The teacher kept it quiet and serene, and he was thankful for it. His phone suddenly buzzed, and he peered down at the screen to see that it was a text from you.

◤

Lord & Saivor🙏

Hey, I'm about to head to the doctors with Ambrose.

How's your new school going? No one is teasing you or causing you problems, right?

◢

He found himself laughing at the message. Shouldn't you be asking if he were the one causing trouble or getting into fights?

◤

1 (XXX) XXX - YYYY

It's going okay. I'm being treated like a prince.

◢

"Oo~! What a bad boy you are."

Tyrion's green gaze flung up to meet molten golden ones. A girl wearing the school uniform to his grade but completely styled in an almost alternative way descended into the seat in front of him.

Her hair was white like untouched snow and pulled into pigtails that reached the floor. Clips and bows decorated it and were similar colors to her eccentric makeup and eyeliner.

What caught his eye the most were the two charcoal-grey baby horns protruding from the top of her head.

"What do you want?" Tyrion snapped as he concealed his phone in the pocket of his slacks. The girl shrugged her shoulders and leaned back in her seat.

There was a pin on the white button-up of a golden dragon. The eyes were a yellow diamond, and the claws were made of ruby in a manner like they were dripping blood.

"Just checking out the fresh meat." She states while raising her left hand to examine her painted nails. They were long and almond-shaped, painted golden with glitter. "I'm Zafira. Zafira Drakkoth Ormr."

Your brother scrunched his nose and raised a brow. "Kay, now that you're done. I'm leaving." He stated while rising to his feet.

"Wait!" Zafira called only to get hushed by one of the librarians. She sneered before training her attention back on the teen boy. "How rude. You don't just walk away from someone trying to talk to you."

The green-eyed boy snorted and reached for his bag. "I'm not interested in getting to know you or anybody else. If you want to get involved with the Rigel's, you'll have to figure out another way-"

His speech was interrupted as the dragon descendant shanked him in the waist with her hand. Tyrion toppled over, holding his side as he lay dazed on the marbled flooring.

Zafira squatted down, his face in line with her cyan-green skirt that just barely covered her modesty. "You little sh*t. You may be a Rigel, but I'm an Ormr. It's obvious you don't know my history, but I'm from a family just as old and ancient as yours."

"Ormr! Go to the Headmasters." Orders the librarian, who flung to her feet from her desk.

The white-haired hair girl scoffed, and with a raise of her finger, Tyrion's body flew back into his seat. She stands in her chunky boots and meets the other teen's eyes. "See you later, Rigel. And next time, try being a little nicer."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

A few months have passed since the two of you moved into Ambrose's home. It was hard to adjust, hard to accept this easy, pampered life was really yours.

But the baby growing steadily in your belly really grounded you to reality. You were going to be a mother, and even though you didn't have a good one, there was no way in hell that you would ever create a traumatic childhood for your youngin.

It was an early morning on a Tuesday; you hadn't slept at all the night before, so you decided to go for a walk. Ambrose didn't want to leave you alone, so he sluggishly followed you.

Draped in robes with your initials, the both of you traversed through the gardens on the land. Your boyfriend held a mug of coffee to his lips as he yawned for the umpteenth time that morning.

Straying from caffeine, you drank from a cup of hot chocolate that contrasted against the cool early breeze.

The sun was rising, just about peeking through the horizon.

"Should we return back soon and get ready for your appointment today?" Ambrose questioned as he sat on one of the benches. His eyes barely could stay open, with his wide shoulders sagging from exhaustion.

It's still funny to see that this almost perfect man is not a morning person.

"Just five more minutes." You mumble quietly, just appreciating the scenery and fresh air.

"Okay." He yawns, wrapping one of his arms around your hip and resting his head against your bulging belly.

You've been thinking about what to do with all this free time. You wanted to work, but with your pregnancy, the Chief was highly against it.

And surprisingly, even his mother was as well. Ursula would have your head if she found you working or pushing yourself.

Initially, you thought she was going to hate you, but it seems just's more of the type to give tough love. It might have been due to losing her oldest that she closed herself off from being too emotional.

"Madam...Madam, you have a phone call." Your gaze turns to the side where a maid is approaching with a vase in her hand of fresh flowers.

You raised a brow before lightly patting the half-Fae's face to wake him up. "Who could that be so early?" Your words are to no one else but yourself.

The three of you travel back into the mansion and into the tea room, where one of the home phones was at.

Ambrose collapses on one of the long couches as he shields his eyes with one of his arms. You settle on a loveseat while bringing the phone to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Is this (Y/n)?" It was the voice of a young boy in early adolescence, for sure.

With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, you respond cautiously. "Yes, who is this?"

"I-It's Tyr." You're surprised by this response: Tyr, your younger brother from the other marriage of your mother, is calling you.

"What's wrong? Why are you calling me?" It is not your intent to sound harsh, but that side of the family is a side you don't want to be involved in.

With what happened at Everlong Crest, you're practically even more resentful.

There's screaming in the background, followed by hysterical crying. "U-Um, can you take us away? Just for a little bit. Mom is...she's not well." He whispers through the other end.

You peer over Ambrose, whose already sitting up, now appearing fully awake. "Angus, inform my parents that'll we'll be out and ask them to give Tyrion a lift." He orders one of the butlers standing about, who quickly scurries off to follow through.

"Tyr, It's a six-hour drive to your house. Who-"

"Please." The ten-year-old whispers, which were followed by a sound of glass shattering

They're just kids, and you're the adult in this situation. It's not right to still hold this grudge against them when they are the innocent party.

By the sound of it, your mother is having a full mental breakdown. She's screaming and shouting, throwing things, and breaking glass.

"Alright, can you get your brothers into a room that locks from the inside? A room that your mother can't get into."

Tyr stutters but answers with a weak 'yes.'

"Hold off for as long as you can. We're coming."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Hey, big shot!"

Tyrion sighed but hadn't turned around to face the Ormr descendant who called behind him. He merely continued his way through the busy corridor.

He could hear Zafira cussing him out and cracked a smile before letting it disappear once the girl caught up to him.

"You're so mean~!" She whined now that she strutted alongside him. Her arms were covered in that pretty pink jacket crossed below her chest as her heeled boots clicked against the floor. "How do you even have friends?"

"Ormr, I already told you that I don't care about that stuff," Tyrion murmured in a dreary tone. There was some time before their next lesson started, so your brother wanted to find a quiet place to nap.

But with his classmate following, he wasn't even going to get a wink.

"Emo~." She teased while sticking her pierced tongue out.

The green-eyed boy sighs at her remark but doesn't say anymore as the two venture out into the garden.

Its clear and bright, thick fluffy clouds formed shapes, and a crisp breeze felt so good in his lungs.

"What's going on, big shot? You've been more quiet than usual." Zafira comments as she skips around to stand in front of your brother.

The dragon descendant was short, even with her chunky boots. He's 6'2 (189cm), but it feels like he towers over the girl.

Her pointy teeth stuck out from her top lip, and for some reason, it looked really cute.

His face suddenly burned like flames were pressed against them, and he snapped his gaze away. "Nothing. It doesn't involve you."

Huffing, the girl smashed her fist into his shoulder before turning away to show him her back. "Hmph! You're going to be a loner if you keep acting like that!" She warned, but your brother didn't take it seriously.

He simply found a bench beneath a shaded tree and lay across it, using his school bag as a pillow under his head.

Even so, Zafira followed him and collapsed on the seat as well, right next to his pack. She was tapping away on her phone that had dangly little chibi dragons and hearts stringed from the bottom of the pink case.

"Somethings bothering you, Rigel, I can tell. I've known you for a couple of months now, and you're usually a lot more talkative. Even if it's only to argue with me."

Tyrion sighs and parts his eyes to come into the view of the dragon descendant. Even though her molten golden eyes are on her cellular device, he can feel the warmth that comes from it.

"Do you have siblings?"

Zafira scoffs and shakes her head. "You f*ckin bet. I've got three older sisters and two younger brothers. You're an only child, right? Well, for now, at least. I've heard your mom's pregnant with Ambrose Rigel's child."

Your brother grimaces before glancing toward the blue sky. "She's actually my sister but technically adopted me. But, yeah...(Y/n)'s not due for another couple of months-"

"I see what's going on."

He sits up swiftly at the white-haired girl's word and rotates to face her.

She smiles while turning off her phone, her little fangs on display as her eyes shine in the light. "You're jealous of an unborn child! How cute~!"

Tyrion could feel his face burn at her statement and swiftly grabbed her cheeks, tugging on them so crocodile tears welled in her eyes. "What are you talking about!? You have too much of a vivid imagination!"

Zafira snatches his face, and the two begin pulling each other's cheeks, but the tugging, unfortunately, leads to the two tumbling off the small bench.

Her back strikes the grassy floor first, with Tyrion just barely catching himself above her. His hands are pressed into the ground beside her head while his knees are on either side of her hips.

Their faces on near each other, and her hands are pressed firmly against his chest. For a moment, their both stunned and unable to move; even their breathing seems to stutter.

To his surprise, Zafira's hands suddenly begin to squeeze around his pectorals. "For a human, these are quite developed..."

Your brother's face burns so hot he nearly passes out and flings himself off of her. "You pervert! This is why you have no friends yourself! Manhandling everyone!"

The dragon descendant pointed a finger at him and shouted back. "It's not my fault your big a** boobs fell in my hands! Maybe you're the pervert!" She bellowed.

In the garden that was scarce of any other students, the two began to bicker back and forth until the bell rang, and they went their separate ways...

...With their faces burning and hearts beating.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Later that day, Oberon picked Tyrion up from the private academy, and the two shared a conversation until they returned home.

Ambrose's truck was parked right in the front, which had the teen raise a brow. If he were home, then why didn't the Chief pick him up?

Entering the mansion, Tyrion made his way towards the living room, where he heard laughing and the sound of your voice.

Curious, he stepped closer with his hands in his pocket and parted his lips to speak, but they fell agape at the sight.

To his surprise and horror, the three Qadir siblings sat on the couch while drinking hot chocolate from small mugs.

"What!?" He can barely get his voice out as he meets the boys' scarlet red eyes before meeting your gaze. "Why are they here!?"

"Tyrion, calm down." You scold while standing to your feet. "Their mom is having a breakdown, and it's not safe for them to be around her. They'll be here just for a bit until she gets better."

Your brother sneers at you while pointing a finger at your left side. "I don't give a f*ck! You almost f*cking died because of them! Because of him! You wanna test it again by having them here!" He bellows, his body filling with so much fury that his ears are popping.

You frown, eyes drooping and lips scowling. It's easy to understand your brother's hate, the fury hidden in his heart. All that envy sticks to his throat like glue.

To have your own mother not love you at all and have another family, she cherished must be eating him alive.

"Tyrion." Ambrose calls as he nears your brother, but the teen steps back like the Chief's hands were poisoned.

"Don't touch me!" He sneers while backing up. "I should have known better. I'm always going to be nothing but a burden you'll try to get rid of. To think you'd replace me with them pisses me off!"

"Tyrion, wait!" You attempt to follow after him, but you feel so heavy with your bulging belly and nearly lose your footing on the kitten-heel shoes you are wearing.

The half-Fae sighs before strolling closer to you. "It's okay, baby. We knew this would happen, and it's a lot for him to take in. He probably feels overwhelmed."

You can only nod your head and slump in your seat again. The Qadir siblings are observing you, their eyes following your every movement.

They are just kids, but kids are incredibly observant. It's not difficult for them to understand that their Older half-brother Tyrion doesn't like them; in fact, it's just easier to say he despises them.

Tyr, Mikhail, and Raoul had the good life with a loving mother and a doting father. But now, the powerful old vampire is in prison, and the mom is mentally ill; their perfect world is crashing down.

Now they're in a foreign home, with an older half-sister they know nothing about and a half-brother who hates them.

This could lead to a lot of developmental issues and have them struggle to grow attachments or connections. Tyrion already struggles with abandonment issues and other problems.

It might not be too late for them.

"Are you guys tired? Hungry?" You ask softly, finding that there is no strength to speak any louder.

The half-vampire brothers glance at each other for a second before nodding their heads. "We haven't eaten in a few days," Tyr replies, and your heart nearly splinters apart.

"I'm sorry. I'll make something really quick; wait a little while." You tell them before meeting the eyes of your partner. "Can you watch them for a moment?"

He nods his head of sepia-brown hair and struts closer to kneel in front of the boys. "How about we take a walk around the stables? Would you three like to see the horses?" He questions in a tender tone.

They're hesitant at first, but they cautiously stand from the couch to follow after your partner.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"You're acting like a little b*tch," Zafira states on the other end of the headset.

Tyrion scoffs and swiftly kills her character in the game before returning to what he was originally doing. "Mind your own business." He snaps.

The dragon descendant scoffs as her player respawns on the map. In his game room, it was only him with his friend from school in a video call on one of the other monitors.

She can be seen biting into a lollipop before flicking the stick into a trash bin. Her room that he can observe is exactly what he thought it would be.

Pink and girly. White walls with posters of her favorite artist and hello kitty decorations. Her pillowcases and comforters are hot pink with hearts and stuffies.

Even on a Saturday when they had a day off from school, the girl is dressed in a white tennis skirt with dark stockings that have hearts cut into them and an oversized pink sweater full of baby chick prints.

For once, her hair isn't in those iconic pigtails, but she has it up in a messy bun, so it was easier for her to wear her cat ear headset.

"It is my business, Rigel. You're my friend."

Tyrion's shoulders sag at her words, and he slouches in his gaming chair. "It's family stuff. You wouldn't want me getting involved with you and your siblings."

She giggles and continues gathering materials in the world. "Please, my sisters are just like me, and you can barely handle one Ormr, let alone five."

Your brother shudders; merely thinking about it makes the tips of his fingers tingle in dread.

"Every time you're upset, you get even moodier. And when you're upset about your sister, your extra snappy."

"Zafira!"

"Exactly!"

He respires heavily and returns to the game.

"It's been a few weeks now since you yelled at your sister. Why don't you talk to her now."

"Why should I?" He snaps. "I didn't do anything wrong. I'm right!"

"Are all men this dense?" Zafira asks herself before pausing her game. She reaches for an energy drink while giving her attention to the camera. "(Y/n) is an adult, so she's obviously more mature than us. But they're just kids and had their whole world turned upside down. No father, and a psychotic mother, now they have to live in a home they know they don't belong in. You need to pipe down the jealousy because your sister is giving other things her love and affection."

Tyrion throws his hands up. "Why am I being reprimanded!?"

"Because you're acting like a selfish, petty little boy-

A knock at the door interrupted her words before they were opened. Ambrose's giant figure peered in from the small space as he glanced at your brother.

"Hi, Mr. Rigel." Zafira greets him as she waves on the monitor.

The Chief smiles as he waves back. "Hello, little Ormr. Are you two busy right now?"

The dragon descendant shakes her head while scooting closer to her computer. "No, we were just done playing. I'll message you later, Tyrion."

Nodding his head, the schoolmate ends the call leaving the two males alone in the game room. Ambrose's shut the door behind him before grasping one of the other gaming chairs and heaving his giant figure into it.

It's awkwardly silent, with tension filling the air.

"Look..." Ambrose begins, and the two meet each other's gaze. "I'm actually not supposed to be here, Y/n wanted me to give you space, but this is enough. I'm very lenient and sympathetic with you, but I'm not going to let you continue to act this way-"

"Why, or you'll kick me out because this is your house?" Tyrion snaps, but the Chief has no negative reaction to it.

He merely clasps his fingers together and folds his bottom lip inward. "Never. This is your home, and it's not something I'll ever threaten you with. But that doesn't leave you exempt from punishment either."

Your brother scoffs. "You're not my father or even my guardian."

"Your right; I'm not. But I do care about you, Tyrion. I understand that you've been upset with us for a while, and it just got worse after the Qadir brothers began to stay here." Ambrose respires a deep breath and leans in his seat. "We've already talked about this, but (Y/n) is never going to abandon you. Both she and I are not going to forget about you just because there is a baby on the way. Nor because we're fostering the Qadir brothers until their mother gets better."

The green-eyed teen doesn't respond, instead looking everywhere else but the man in front of him.

Clasping one of his massive veiny hands on Tyrion's shoulder, he wanted the boy to look at him, but they both knew that if he looked up, tears would fall from his lids.

"I noticed for a while you started to become quieter when all everyone started talking about was the baby. When I couldn't pick you up due to the natal care checkup, you'd be extra snappy when I'd see you later. And when (Y/n) didn't want to play games with you because she was too tired, I could see the resentment and disappointment in your eyes. Just because me and (Y/n) are now having our own child doesn't mean that you don't matter or your needs are being put onto the side."

Ambrose sighs before leaning down to attempt to meet his eyes. "You're like a brother and a son to me. I think about you and your future all the time, and I think about things that we can do, just you and me. You've gone so long alone that I try to be as involved with you as I can so you can remember that you're not just by yourself or going to be abandoned."

Inhaling a shaky breath, Tyrion snaps his gaze up as tears befall his warm cheeks. "How am I supposed to believe you when you bring those f*ckin' kids in? For f*cks sake, even one of them has practically my name!"

The Chief frowns and attempts to wipe the tears away, but they only continue to pour. "I know, Tyrion, I know. It's a lot for a kid to take in when you finally thought things were going to get better. You were handed a rough start in life with what you dealt with. And then having all these other people suddenly show up and take your spot as our main attention, it feels like you're going to be replaced." Your brother's head falls forward to rest against the older man's chest. Almost immediately, the teen was surrounded by your partner's arms and hugged firmly.

His magic tingles through his nerves and warms his stomach. The headache that was once forming had dissipated with that familiar sandalwood scent grounding him to reality.

Ambrose Rigel feels like a miracle that not only showed up in your life but Tyrion's as well.

"That's never ever going to happen. None of us are ever going to abandon you like your mother or beat you like your father. The Qadir brothers may come from the life your mother left you for, but they are not your enemies. They are not the ones who hurt you or the ones who made it all happen. Just kids, Tyrion. Their only worries are what they're going to eat next and how long they can push their bedtime."

Your brother huffs and squeezes his hands together. "I hate how you always know the right things to say. I can't even be mad at you for it, either." He manages to release a weak laugh that has the man patting his back tenderly.

Finally calming down, the green-eyed teen pulls away to wipe his face and run a hand through his hair. "I'm tired of you always making me cry." He rues.

Ambrose snickers before standing to his feet. "You're just a big crybaby when you're with me. You might as well clean up and get ready for dinner. (Y/n) and my mom is cooking something together."

Before leaning, the Chief turns back to your brother while snapping his finger. "Oh, and you should also bring over that Ormr descendant soon. It'd be nice to meet a girl able to put up with your attitude-"

"You're done! Get out!"

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Your eyes are drooping, and your head feels heavy.

The words in the book you are reading are dancing across each other, and you find yourself repeatedly reading the same sentences over and over again.

Wood splinters and cracks in the fireplace only a few feet from where you sit in a sofa chair, your feet resting on a footstool.

Subconsciously you're stroking your bulging stomach through your shirt, caressing the mound where your child sleeps peacefully under your protection.

The sudden sensation of a blanket being set on your body awakens you slightly. Your shoulders fly upwards, and your eyes fling to your left, where Tyr appears to be covering your body in the comforter.

"You'll get sick, and your baby can get hurt if you don't cover up." The ten-year-old states before holding his pale hands behind his back once he is done.

Your smile is lethargic due to your drowsiness, but you still sit up slightly. "Thank you. But it's rather late, and a tutor will be coming tomorrow morning. You should be sleeping."

It wasn't certain when the Qadir brothers would be returning home, but it would be unfair to let their academics fall behind. To put them in an academy when they could be taken out at any moment would do more harm than good.

Highering a tutor would be the best option to keep them up to date until their mother's health gets better and she can handle caring for her sons...so she doesn't ruin any more of her children's lives.

Tyr purses his lip, twiddling his thumbs together while spinning slightly. "I just...I couldn't sleep." He murmurs faintly.

"Okay." You hum before standing to your feet. Your joints hurt from carrying the weight of a baby, but you ignore it as you cover your body with the blanket like a cape. "Let's get a drink."

The both of you held each other's hand as you traveled from the tea room over to the kitchen. It's dark, but the boy swiftly flicks on the light so you don't stumble into anything.

"Do you want warm milk or hot chocolate?" You ask while opening the fridge.

"Hot chocolate is fine."

You boil milk until it's at a perfectly heated temperature and pour it into mugs of chocolate powder. (You're a wh*re if you make hot chocolate with water! Milk gives it a taste! Using water makes it bland, bland! You are exempt from this if you're lactose intolerant.)

Handing him one of the mugs with a small spoon in it, the both of you mix the powder until it's just right and sip from it.

"Do you think mom will ever get better?"

Your eyes flicker down to see the half-vampire staring into his warm mug. His slightly long hair was more curly than usual at the back of his head.

"Your mother is going through some hard times right now." You articulate softly while tightening the blanket around you. In no way do you want to make excuses for that woman, but you'd be horrible yourself to speak badly of her in front of her son. They don't know how she abandoned her oldest son and attempted to sell off her only daughter. It's not fair for you to ruin their childhood just because yours were awful. "People don't get better in an instant; it takes work and sometimes medication to get better."

Tyr's lips are in a straight-lipped expression, with his tiny fingers twitching against the cup. Even though he was tall for his age, he was still just a kid and in a vulnerable state.

"I don't want to go back. I like it here, with you, with Rose."

Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at his words. "Tyr, what are you talking about? This isn't your home-"

"Mom and dad are obsessed with each other. They only ever paid attention to each other and rarely took care of us. My nanny was more of a mother than her." The boy's words come as a surprise.

You thought they had a perfect life, with a mother who actually wanted to be around her sons and a wealthy, well-off father who finally had his heirs.

But to think that f*ckin woman was being so selfish and raising three boys like they were a bother suddenly had your blood boil.

Maybe it was because your hormones were uncontrollable or because you've had to deal with Thyra for so long, but you felt like hitting something.

"You are nice to me, and I don't feel like a burden here. I don't want to go back there...please don't send me back." He sounds like he's going to cry, his voice wavering and his throat tightening.

What do you do?

For the longest time, you've considered them not even of the same blood, even if it's half. You've assumed the brothers had the life you wished Tyrion could have had.

But maybe you, too, were pushing an unreliable narrative on siblings that you didn't even know.

This is all just a big a** mess.

"Okay, Tyr." He glanced over as you spoke, and you reached down to hold one of his hands. "I'll talk with Ambrose, and we'll see what we can do."

Gradually he nodded his head before clasping your fingers with his smaller ones firmly. The both of you venture over the main elevator and ride until you are on the third floor.

You can hear Tyrion in his game room with muffled talking echoing out. Apparently, Ambrose says there's a girl...friend in his life.

When he's not super mad at you like he is now, you'll tease him about it later.

Entering their bedroom, Mikhail and Raoul are already asleep in their beds. The second oldest is practically upside down with his feet at the headrest and his head nearly hanging off.

Unlike the middle child, Raoul practically slept like a log. Straight and almost unnatural, but the loud snoring from his open mouth showcased that he was sleeping well.

Tyrion used to sleep like the both of them when he was younger; he had tossed, turned, and snored so vociferous you had to wear earplugs.

It was hell when he wanted to sleep in the same bed as you after a nightmare, but there are times you miss holding the small boy close to you.

Climbing onto the mattress, you helped tuck in the oldest while sitting at the edge. You can feel his scarlet eyes on the visible skin of your left side.

The scars are healed, but they've left a white waxy texture that catches anyone's attention when they see them.

Still, to this day, you do not regret saving him from the collapsing columns. As an older sister, it was both your duty and role to help if you could.

It didn't matter if you hated them; they were innocent in the animosity between adults.

"It doesn't hurt." You murmur quietly, not to wake the others resting. "I'm all healed up."

Tyr flickers his eyes to meet yours and sinks slightly so the blanket covers his lips. "I'm sorry."

You sigh and begin to run a hand through his soft hair. "It's okay, Tyr. None of this was or is your fault. You're just a kid. It's the responsibility of the adults to worry about these things." Softly pinching his nose, you grace him with a small smile and lean down so your lips can kiss his warm forehead. "All you have to do is grow up big and strong."

"Big like Rose? So I can protect you next time?" He asked, and it was the cutest thing you'd seen all day. Those big red eyes gleaming in hope and admiration were breaking the cuteness meter.

Pressing your forehead against his, your smile grows, and your fingers caress his chubby cheeks. "Yes, Tyr. Now have a good night's rest, and I'll be here in the morning to wake you up."

The ten-year-old nodded and closed his eyes, calming his heart to fall under sleep's hold.

After putting him to bed, you snuck out as quietly as you could and made your way to Ambrose's office. His reading glasses were on with his shirt unbuttoned halfway down to show bits of his pectorals.

His rust-red eyes flickered up to glance at who entered before swiftly setting down his files. "Baby, what's wrong?"

You don't exactly know what to say or how to feel, so you make your way over to him and lay in his lap. He's quick to surround you in his thick arms and hold your body against his chest.

It's dark in here besides the lamp on his desk, and it highlights the much police paperwork he's been taking home to do so he could spend more time here at the mansion.

"Tyr just told me that he doesn't want to go back home to his mom. They apparently don't get a lot of attention from their parents, and their nanny is the one who took care of the brothers." You say after taking in a deep breath.

The Chief appears to think for a second before he responds. "I see-"

"You know what makes me furious?" You suddenly begin, which prompts the man to raise a brow. "Even though we are human, anyone from my mother's bloodline is born immune to charms and curses. So that means it's not like Quillion has my mother enchanted. She's voluntarily obsessed with him to the point where her other sons were just an afterthought."

For some reason, you can feel the inner corners of your eyes sting and tears well up. "Even when she left to be with that man, and she had everything, she still couldn't raise her own children."

Ambrose doesn't say anything, merely holding you close, so his magic touch gives you comfort.

You want to cry for yourself, for Tyrion, and even the Qadir brothers.

"Some people are just not meant to be parents, my love. They hurt everyone else for their own happiness and don't care about anyone else but themselves." The half-Fae comments while migrating one of his hands to rub at your belly.

The child within your tummy awakens from their slumber and kicks at their father's touch.

"So what do you want to do? We could adopt the Qadir brothers, but Tyrion's going to have a fit." You laugh at his words and sniffle softly. "We could just keep them here and send them back when the mother gets better like we originally planned?"

It feels too cruel to send them back to a place where they will never be the first priority.

"I'll think about it later. Can we go to bed now?" You don't need to tell him twice as he carries your body bridal style and strolls back to your shared bedroom.

He surrounds you with his delightful smell and holds you close like you would disappear at any moment.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Tyrion descends on a chair in front of Zafira at the library. The girl glances up from her pink laptop covered in stickers before grinning at the sight.

"To think you'd come to sit by me first~! Have you finally warmed up to me~!" She cooed, which spurred your brother to scrunch his nose.

He takes out his homework while settling his own computer on the desk. "All the other tables are full-"

"Sure." She murmurs while returning her attention to the essay on her screen.

The two sit in silence for a while, productively completing their work so they don't have to do it at home.

After forty minutes or so, the green-eyed teen flickered his gaze to the girl in front of him. Her lashes look longer than usual, darker too, and grazing over her faux blushed cheeks.

"Am I ugly?" Zafira abruptly questions; however, she makes no move to look up.

"Extremely so." He replies without any hesitation before leaning back in his seat. "Are you busy after school?"

She giggles and grasps her screen to tilt it down. "Are you finally asking to hang out? The ice prince is actually melting!"

Your brother sighs and raises his long arm to flick her forehead. She immediately recoils back and holds the area, tears welling in her eyes with her bracelets jingling from her movements.

"My da-" He stops himself quickly and clears his throat. "My guardians want to meet you. Apparently, they're shocked I have a friend."

After the pain goes away quickly, the dragon descendant hums like she is contemplating, but Tyrion already knows what her answer is going to be.

"Sure! I can't wait to meet Ambrose Rigel and-" Her eyes suddenly widen, and her lips fall agape.

Your brother raises a brow and parts his lips to speak, but he is interrupted by his classmate. "Oh, my god. I'm going to meet your sister."

Surprisingly, Tyrion began to laugh at her reaction and held a hand to his stomach. "What, are you scared? You're more scared of my sister than the...Ambrose Rigel? (Y/n)'s not even that-" Your brother fell silent before he could finish his sentence. His mind flickered through his many memories, which spurred him to slouch in his seat. "Actually...you should be scared."

"That's not funny!" Zafira snaps and throws a pencil at his head. "You're supposed to comfort me, not make my anxiety worse!"

"Sshhh!" The librarian hushes the girl as usual, which prompts her to huff and cross her arms beneath her chest.

Tyrion glances at the clock before packing his things away into his bag. "It's going to be fine. My sister is heavily pregnant and doesn't get as mad because of her blood pressure, and she likes cute things, so you're going to be okay."

The molten gold-eyed teen frowned at his words before raising her brow at the end. "You think I'm cute~?" She gushes.

"I think you're annoying now. Come on; the bell is about to ring." He snaps back while standing to his feet.

Giddly, his friend swiftly packs her things while whispering to herself: 'He thinks I'm cute.'

Heading to the front of the academy, they see that Ambrose is there with his truck to pick them up. The Rigel and Ormr family have known each other for years, so Zafira was not too uncomfortable with the half-Fae.

They regularly conversed about the small things, and the Chief asked about how her mom and dad were doing. He shared funny moments with her parents from when he went to the academy with them, and the ride continued comfortably.

It wasn't until their home came into view that both Tyrion and Zafira found themselves growing anxious. Your brother has not been giving you as much attitude since his talking with your partner, but he's still been keeping his distance until he felt like he could get the right words out.

And you've never liked any of his friends from his school, albeit some were bad influences and other's just stuck up.

"If I pass out, will you pick me up and carry me?" The girl beside him suddenly questioned.

"I'll drag you if it comes to it."

"Still a win."

The three exit his vehicle and enter the mansion. Some of the servants greet them as they pass, and it appears like his friend is used to that as well.

"Angus, do you know where (Y/n) is?" Ambrose questions one of the butlers.

The elderly man nods his head and points down the north corridor. "I believe Madam is out in the garden with the Qadir brothers."

Tyrion rolls his eyes at the mention of his younger half-brother, but Zafira shanks him in the waist with her hand to stop him.

He glares at her with narrowed eyes and has yet to drop the stank face as they all traverse to the side door.

Outside, the sun is high, with thick fluffy clouds creating shapes. The breeze is cool and perfect, too, shaking the leaves on trees and blowing flowers into the air.

Under the pavilion by one of the koi ponds, your figure is there, sitting at the table. You're attired in a bodycon dress to your knees that show your baby bump with a kimono over your arms.

Tyr is right beside you and being fed snacks from a treat tray as Mikhail and Raoul play a game of tag around the garden.

"We're back." Ambrose comments as he leans down to kiss your lips and settle in one of the chairs beside you.

You smile at him before dropping it when your attention falls on the white-haired girl's figure. Zafira freezes for a moment, appearing unsure if she should bow or curtsy, or kneel.

It's not like you were royalty, but damn, did the teen girl feel intimidated.

"I-I'm Zafira Drakkoth Ormr. One of Tyrion's friends from the academy." She finally manages to greet you.

Your expression is unreadable and doesn't help the intimidated as you appear to eye her up. If the dragon descendant knew she was going to meet her friend's older sister, she would have dressed a little more normally!

Her hair was up in its usual high pigtails with all her clips and bows and hair decorations. Her makeup was flashy and bright with her big eyelashes. Not to mention she was wearing her pink jacket and legwarmers over her turquoise blue boots.

Usually, she doesn't feel so insecure about her appearance, but she wants to make a good impression.

"She..." The girl could feel her throat tightening upon your response. "She's so cute!" You smiled brightly while holding one of your hands to your face. "I always wanted a sister, but all my life, I've been surrounded by men."

Both Zafira and Tyrion released a breath they didn't know they were holding in.

Ambrose grins at your words and reaches over to feed you one of the treats. "Should we visit the doctor soon to find out the gender?" He sought.

"I kind of want to be surprised, but I hope it's a girl!"

You and the Chief begin to go back and forth in a real lovey-dovey manner that has Tyrion pretend to retch. "We're going to go to my game room now."

"Okay." You wave them off and give Zafira a discreet wink. "I'll call you both down for dinner when it's ready."

The two teens swiftly leave and make their way through the corridors. "That went really well." He abruptly mutters.

"How, we barely talked." The golden-eyed girl questions.

"You don't know my sister well enough. For some reason, she's always been able to tell which one of my friends was a good person without even hearing them speak."

Setting down their bags, they hop onto the plush couch while Tyrion turns on his console. They begin to play multiple games together, conversing here and there when needed.

They're both quite good players, so every game was evenly matched. A few hours passed by relatively quickly until they decided to cool it on the competitions and switched to open world game they could play together.

It's rather chill and quiet besides the ambiance of the music. By this point, Zafira had chucked off her shoes and rested her legs on Tyrions lap.

"Hey, I've got a question." Your brother abruptly asks, which gains his friend's attention.

She raises a brow but nods her head.

"Why did you suddenly get close to me? It's not like you needed to benefit from getting close to the Rigels or gain advantages from being associated with me." He doesn't look at her even though he feels her eyes burning holes on his face. "You've stuck by my side even though I'm mean and don't usually reach out to you first."

Zafira pursed her lips firmly together and gazed back at the large Tv screen in front of them. "Some people need a friend-"

"Don't lie to me." Tyrion pauses his game and shifts to face the girl beside him. "By now, I can tell when you're not telling the truth. You squint your eyes and tap your foot."

She hadn't even realized what she was doing and swiftly ceased her actions. It's apparent the girl is starting to become nervous.

The dragon descendant pauses her game as well and sets her controller on the coffee table. "Um, well..." She laughs awkwardly while rubbing at the back of her neck. "It's because you smelled good."

Your brother is taken aback, blinking at first before slightly grinning. "Well, it is an expensive cologne Ambrose gave-"

"It's not like that," Zafira interjects and shifts so her body is now in line with his. "I may be a descendant, but that still means I'm a dragon. My hearing is better, and my sense of smell is intense."

"O...Okay?" Tyrion's dumba** is not getting it.

It provokes her to sigh and hold a hand to her heart. "Tyrion, when my kind meets someone who smells so good it's irresistible, it means they're a potential mate."

Slowly, your brother begins to take in her words. His brain is whirring like a machine, and his breathing is slowing.

"I wanted to get to know you after I smelled your scent, but now I don't just want to be your friend. I want to be with you. It's okay if you don't feel the same. You're not the only potential mate out there, and it's up to me to choose who I want, even if they don't have that scent."

Tyrion didn't appear to have any reaction, and it scarred the white-haired girl. She swallowed thickly, and the fear of having ruined her relationship with the green-eyed teen was making her stomach roll.

"Look, we can just forget-" Her speech came to a halt when your brother rushed forward. One of his hands found its place on her throat and squeezed as he neared his face to hers.

"You have other potential mates!? You're going to leave me for them!?" His voice is hostile, and his fury is evident.

Zafira stares up at him with wide eyes before smiling as tears well in her golden eyes. "Oh, you f*ckin' jealous dog. I don't want anyone else." She raises her hands to caress his face. "I want you."

Your sibling appears shaken for a moment before gingerly releasing her throat and holding his weight up by the side of her head. He presses his forehead to her sternum with what appears to be warm tears wetting her top.

"I'm sorry." He barely manages to whisper. "I shouldn't have done that...but when you said there were others you could choose from, I got so angry. I already lost my sister; I can't lose you too."

The dragon descendant hums and runs her long nails through his thick hair. "You're such a baby, Ty." She mumbles while continuing to comfort him. "You're not going to lose me, and you haven't lost your sister. For one, you haven't apologized to her for flipping out, and two, I've practically fallen in love with you, so I'm not leaving anytime soon."

She suddenly giggles, which spurs Tyrion to raise his head so he can face her. His teary-eyed expression was so beautiful that Zafira had to calm her heart down from exploding.

"What? Are you making fun of me?" He's not as snappy as he usually is.

She shakes her head leisurely before speaking. "No, but did you know that dragon's mate for life? So if we complete it, then you'll really never be able to get rid of me. Plus, you will start to get some of my attributes!"

To her surprise but delight, Tyrion's head dipped down to capture her plump lips in his. For their first kiss, it tasted of soda and sugar.

One of his hands dips into the arch of her back to push their body closer, with his other holding her jaw firmly. She responded just as eagerly, one hand buried in the back of his hair to deepen the kiss with her other pressing her nails into his back.

Their faces are burning heat, and their minds are swirling in pleasing hormones.

A knock at the door echoed in before the hinges squeaked as it opened. "Tyrion-Oh my!"

The teens snap their eyes open while turning to face the entrance. Both you and Ambrose stood in the doorway, shielding grins behind your hands. "Ou, um, dinners ready, but you guys can come down when you're both hungry."

The Chief giggled. "For food, that is." He mumbles, which provokes you to elbow him in the rib.

Before you closed the door, you winked at Zafira, who returned a wink.

Now alone again in the room, Tyrion removed himself from atop the dragon descendant to hide his face and rub at the back of his neck. "Well, that was embarrassing. She's never going to let me live that down." He mumbled under his breath.

Zafira giggled as she sat up leisurely. "I think they already had an idea." She states, standing to her feet to go up behind him and hug his back. "So...I guess you're my boyfriend now~!"

He can feel her grin against his skin and smiles to himself as he bites into his bottom lips. "I guess I am."

Her hands caressed his fit abdomen above his shirt as she sighed pleasantly. "You know, you're really attractive when you're jealous."

"Do you wanna break up?"

"I'm sorry~! :p"

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

It's around midday on a Saturday. Both Tyrion and Ambrose had off work at the station, so they decided to stay home for the day. Everyone in the family was slacking off in the manor, relaxing.

The Chief had a long night before, so he was sleeping in just like your brother, who stayed up all night gaming. Ursula came over from the annex to bring you to the new garden she constructed and just began to plant.

Tyr, Mikhail, and Raoul remained in the study room in the morning to catch up on their work. It's now their main mission to do everything they can to make you and your partner satisfied with them.

So on this Saturday, it was just an undisturbed day.

...

Tyrion's phone began to ring, awakening him from the deep slumber he finally fell into just as the birds outside began to tweet.

He barely even parts his lids as he answers the call. "...Hello?"

"Wakey wakey, lazy a**. How long are you gonna sleep in?!" It was his girlfriend on the other line, with what appeared like yelling in the background. Sounds just like her other siblings were as active as her at the moment.

Groaning, the teen turns over onto his stomach as he continues to obscure his eyes from the sunlight peeking in through the open windows. "As long as I want." His reply is clear and concise, which prompts the dragon descendant to release a hefty sigh.

"You're so annoying!" She snaps before respiring heavily. "Sorry, I'm just mad because I wanted to invite you over, but since you slept all day, everyone else is awake- Wait a sec!" Zafira must have covered her phone with something considering the noise in the background became more muddled. "Hey. Hey! Shut the f*ck up before I come over there and knock ya' a** out!"

Her interaction with her siblings spurred a teeny smile to form on the teen's lip.

"Sorry 'bout that. My brothers have way too much energy."

"It's okay. I'm sorry we couldn't hang out today, so how about tomorrow? I'll be over early, and we can go out."

Tyrion can practically see the beaming smile on her face. He knows that whenever he offers to do something or comes up with a plan, she really appreciates it.

"Okay! You should get up, though, and do something so you can sleep early tonight." She reminds him, and by this point, your brother has leisurely sat up while rubbing his eyes.

He's sluggish with his movements as he heads over to his private bathroom and turns on the light. "Alright. I'll text you after." He murmurs, staring into his reflection, where his hair is disarrayed and eyes crusty.

The call ends, and he spends the rest of his time brushing his teeth, showering, and changing into a new set of clothes before departing towards the main set of stairs.

All the servants were either performing their jobs or resting as well. It really was just a slothful day.

Making his way into the large kitchen, he hadn't expected to view the side profile of the oldest Qadir brother. Since he's come here, his bangs have grown along with the bottom of his hair.

It's curled more to appear as somewhat of a styled mullet. Tyr seems to be cutting something on a small board, filling the room with a sweet aroma.

Heaving heavy breaths inwards, Tyrion ignored the boy as he made his way to the fridge. Behind him, he can hear the sound of the knife slicing across the cutting board with every contact.

"You should apologize to (Y/n)."

Your brother knits his brows together while his grip on the handle tightens at the sound of the boy's voice. He's starting to get irritated, so he ignores him to continue scavenging for something to eat.

There doesn't appear to be any more speaking, but the sound of him cutting has ceased.

It feels like his skin is burning alive at the sensation of half- vampire's eyes on him. "You should apologize," Tyr repeats, which earns him a scoff from the older boy.

"And you should learn your place. You don't belong here." It came out in one breath, something he's been holding back for a while now.

He cannot help the fury in his heart at the mere thought of the Qadir brothers. His own envy clouds his mind, along with his disdain for the fact that you risked your life to save him.

You were his sister; you shouldn't have even done something so selfless for somebody who shouldn't have mattered to you.

"Oh, I know my place." Those words spurred Tyrion to whip around, his eyes narrowed, and lips pulled into a sneer.

Though, that expression fell when the sight of Tyr right in front of him nearly gave him a fright. His blood-red eyes, which were already round, appeared wider as if he were staring right into the teen's soul.

It was no help at all, considering his expression was oddly impassive, but his gaze held the hostility he felt. No help at all when the knife he had used to slice the fruit was being held tightly in his left hand, down by his side but pointed upwards...

...As if he were going stab Tyrion.

"I know my place very well, right by (Y/n)'s side."

Your brother swallowed thickly. This little sh*t... Whenever the oldest Qadir brother was in your or Ambrose's presence, he acted meek and innocent, like he couldn't even hurt a fly. But right now...this wasn't the look of a little boy but a psychopath ready to lose it.

"All you do is make (Y/n) sad...I'm tired of it." Tyr states as his voice drops and fangs press into his bottom lip. "So apologize before I make you."

Why did Tyrion freeze the way he did? Ha ha, he's six years older than this kid. He's the big one, yet...why did he feel small and incomparable beneath this kid's gaze?

Abruptly, the half-vampire raised the knife upwards by his chest and pressed his pointer finger at the very tip of the blade. "You know, I'm very envious of you, Tyrion. You get to be (Y/n)'s full-blooded brother and the one she has always sacrificed a lot for. Every choice she makes has your well-being and feelings put into consideration...You know...I'd kill for that."

Tyr spun the blade so the light caught the sharp end. His eyes were down at the knife at first before rising to meet Tyrion's. "I'll be nice for now, but if you continue to take big sister for granted...sleep with one eye open." He murmurs.

Before the eldest could retort or even breathe, footsteps echoed from the hallway, and the half-vampire nearly teleported back to his position behind the island. His knife returned to the cutting board as he turned his head to the entrance and smiled innocently.

"Big sister! I cut some fruit for you and your baby!" He calls with his voice in a light and joyful tone with a vibrant grin on his small face.

What a complete turnaround! That two-timing little sh-

"Tyr, how thoughtful!" You call as you and Ursula step into the kitchen.

Flyaways stuck to your foreheads with sweat from being under the sun for so long. The both of you were outfitted casually, in light dresses and sunhats.

Ambrose's mother seemed pleased with the boy's words, holding a thin finger to her chin while nodding her head. "Yes, what a competent little boy. Rose nor Preston ever did such a thing when they were his age." She comments.

Tyrion couldn't help but narrow his eyes.

Your gaze abruptly darted to his green ones, which prompted you to tilt your head to the side. "What are you doing up? I thought you'd be asleep longer." You tease, and he nearly heats up from being put on the spot.

It doesn't help that Tyr is staring at him, smiling all cocky and sh*t.

"W-Well, Zafira called me, and we made plans to hang out tomorrow, so I needed to be able to get up early tomorrow." He got it all out in one breath; he felt lightheaded

The blonde-haired Fae hums as she struts over to the cabinet to pull out a bowl. "Ah, yes. The Ormr descendant. I'm somewhat familiar with her mother, a relatively good girl that had such a green thumb."

You laugh lightly while transferring the knife Tyr was cutting with over to the sink, where you begin washing it. "Should we invite the Ormr family for dinner then? I met their daughter, and she seems fairly like a good girl. She's cute too!" You gush before returning to the young boy's side.

Both Ursula and you continue a conversation, with Tyr holding your free hand.

At that moment, it felt like Tyrion had realized something. When had this distance started? The three of you stand right in front of him, yet he feels like he's miles away, only able to watch from a distance.

It must be mental of him to wish for those times again where it were just the two of you...before the Qadir brothers, before the baby, before Ambrose.

Really, the green-eyed boy had taken you for granted. No, he has been taking you for granted.

"I don't feel good." It mumbles from his lips before his brain can even register what he said.

You peer up, assessing his figure before slowly nodding your head. "Okay, why don't you lay down, and I'll bring you some soup later." You offer.

Ursula and Tyr look over at your face. "You shouldn't push yourself." The Fae states with the half-vampire nodding his head.

It brought a smile to your face as you waved them off while waddling over to your brother. You grasp his shoulders as you meet his eyes. "It's just soup. Now come on, go lay down."

He stands stagnant for a moment before hesitantly nodding his head. Though, before he leaves, he finds he meets the boy's gaze one last time, who doesn't say a word or make a single expression.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The ceiling of his bedroom appeared so muddled as he cracked his eyes open. He had not a memory of when he fell asleep, but now sunlight no longer pours in through his open curtains but the dim light of the moon.

A crick has formed in his neck from sleeping in one position for so long, and he's sweltering beneath the thick comforter placed above him.

Gingerly he rises into a sitting position to lean against the headboard. His body hurts, and he feels sore all over.

There's a pounding in his head and burning dryness in his eyes; he doesn't even want to grab his phone and look at the screen.

So he sits in silence and looks about his room. On his nightstand, there's an empty bowl with a pitcher of ice water and a cup on a tray. He doesn't even remember eating; he didn't even remember falling asleep!

His throat is so dry. He wants to drink something, but his arms feel as though he forced them passed their limits.

F*ck, he feels like shit.

His eyes water, yet they do nothing to aid the dryness. The teen could only sit there, staring at this huge bedroom where he felt so small.

So minuscule...and so distant.

Cursing under his breath, your brother pushes himself off the bed. Cracks rumble from his back, and his knees almost give out from carrying his full body weight.

Despite the aches, he pushes forward while grasping his blanket to wear like a cape. A migraine is ravaging his head as he attempts to walk down the hall.

Where is he even going? He doesn't know.

But even though his head hurts and his own body is just pleading for him to give up, he pushes forward. He needs to find you; he needs to see you.

He misses his big sister.

A bout of coughs ripped through his chest, and he almost keened over if he weren't leaning against the wall.

Sudden footsteps echo out as they approach. It prompts the teen to gingerly raise his head, blinking rapidly from the movement.

Dread infiltrated his stomach with his already raspy throat tightening.

Tyr Qadir was traversing through the corridor, strolling towards him with his hands clasped behind his back. It seems the ends of his hair were braided and tied in colorful bands that should have been embarrassing, but all it did was build envy in Tyrion's chest.

"Where do you think you're going?" The half-vampire questions once he stalls his movement in front of the older brother.

He attempts to speak, yet the only thing he can squeak out is a wheeze.

Humming, the boy cocked his head to the side. "Are you really going to see big sister when you're like this? You want to bring your sickness to her when she's pregnant?" He clicks his tongue while crossing his arms over his dark sweater. "Can you be even more selfish?"

Tyrion can barely swallow, his bottom lip slightly trembling and his eyes glossing over. The inner corners stung, and he had to do everything to bite down and hold back a sob.

He feels so pathetic.

"I just...want to apologize..." His voice is hoarse and raspy, with the vowels wavering and a wheeze at the end.

Tyr scoffs. "I don't like how you treat (Y/n)." He abruptly clutches onto Tyrion's wrist and rests it on his shoulder. "But big sister cares a lot about you."

Effectively, the small boy is holding up almost all of the green-eyed teen's weight. It's easy to forget that even though the Qadir brother is half human, they come from a strong and ancient vampire bloodline.

It's silent between the two of them as they continue down the hallway. Not one speaks or even acknowledges the other until they arrive at the nursery.

You're only a month away from your due date now and soon will welcome your own child...your own baby.

Inside, you are sitting on a rocking chair as you rub your bulging stomach. Ambrose is slightly by your side, kneeling as he holds a large veiny hand on your knee. You're laughing at something the half-Fae is saying while he raises a small stuffed wolf.

It's no longer just you and him against the world. Your small family has grown exponentially, with Ambrose, the Qadir brothers, and soon this newborn.

He's terrible for wanting it just to be the two of you again. But for his entire life, you were the one who sacrificed everything and more for him.

You deserve to be at peace, finally.

Tyrion hiccuped, gaining both your and Ambrose's attention. Tears are cascading down from his blurry eyes, yet he makes no move to wipe them.

"I'm sorry." He can barely wheeze it out. His vision is fuzzy, and his entire chest is burning alive. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" The teen breaks down into hysterical sobs as he falls to his knees. "I love you so much! Please don't leave me! Please don't abandon me!"

"Tyrion..." You utter his name as if you were in pain. "Tyrion, sweetie, it's okay." Ambrose helps you to your feet as the both of you near him. "I'll never ever leave you. Not ever or again."

Your brother can barely breathe. He's hyperventilating as his face heats up and his throat tightens. "I'm sorry! I'm s-sorry! I-I've been so t-terrible!" His entire face is glossy and wet, shining illustriously in the light. "I can't l-lose you! You're my everything!"

The teen feels so overwhelmed that he could throw up. His crying ripples through his already weak body, snatching away all his strength and air.

You coo softly, kneeling right in front of him, and attempt to touch him, but Tyr places a hand in front of him to block the contact. "He is sick, big sister." The boy states.

Ambrose touches the middle of your shoulder blades, with the scent of his magic suddenly spiking in the air. "It's okay. You can touch him now."

There is no time wasted as you reach forward to comfort the teenager. He's slumped against your chest as you wrap your arms around his head and shoulders, running your nails through his shaggy hair.

"I love you, Tyrion. You're my brother, and you'll always be one of the most important people in my life." His crying finally begins to cease and become hiccups and whimpers. "No one is replacing you or going to abandon you. You're family, my family. So what if it became bigger?" You rub his face clean of tears. "You'll always be my baby brother that I gotta beat some sense into every once in a while."

Gingerly, you raise his head so he can meet your gaze. He can see you smiling, looking at him with so much love and adoration that he cannot help but feel so terrible for all the stress he has caused you.

After a moment, the Chief grasps one of your brother's arms and heaves him to his feet. "Now that it's all resolved, you need to go to bed. Actually, the both of you."

Tyr displays a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck. "I'll take you back, Tyr." You offer while reaching a hand out for him. He nods his head, though before the two of you depart, you pat your sibling's face lightly. "Goodnight, little brother. Get some rest, or you won't be able to see your cute little girlfriend tomorrow~."

He doesn't have the energy to argue back, so he nods his head in silence.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

You sigh in contentment as you swallow down the soothing tea Ambrose's mother left you the day before. Your due date is creeping closer and closer, and so your anxiety is on the rise.

It's nice to have someone who understands your position and knows what you're about to go through. No way would you have ever thought there would be so many people who care about you.

You are glad the things that happened before did because then you would never be in this position with a loving family.

The warm sun beaming in through the windows feels good on your skin, on your face. It makes you almost want to take a nap.

Yeah, a nap sounds really nice right now.

Reclining on the soft sofa, you relax your head on the armrest and gently caress your round tummy. Soon that little baby inside can be physically held in your arms.

A part of you and a part of Ambrose; it feels so sentimental even just thinking about it. There really was a man out there who loved you with all his heart despite your flaws and wanted to give you the world.

You don't know what you did to be blessed with him, but you are so very thankful for it happening.

"Madam. Your phone was ringing from the kitchen."

You open your eyes to view one of the maids approaching and struggle to sit up with your bulging belly. "There's always something when I try to nap."

The staff member laughs lightly as she passes your phone before bowing and departing from the tea room. You don't even look at the caller's I.D. as you answered; your mistake.

"(Y/n), it's your father." You nearly throw up at the sound of his voice. "I need you. I need your help..."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Bonus:

When The Teaser Get's A Taste Of Their Own Medicine

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Zafira giggles between the kiss as she wraps her arms around the back of Tyrion's neck.

"Don't laugh. I'm pissed off." He snarls while he pushes her harder against one of the columns in the corridor at the academy.

She hums in delight and raises one of her legs to wrap around his hips. "I can't decide whether you're cute or hot when you're jealous."

Your brother huffs, biting her lip until he breaks the skin before pulling away. She's grinning so devilishly, gazing at him with desperate eyes as she licks away the blood with her long, pierced tongue.

"You're going to be the death of me, Zafira." He declares before wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeves. "You already know I'm insecure about losing you."

The dragon descendant merely shrugs her shoulders. "I'm just talking to our classmates; it's you freaking out about it."

He snatches her cheeks and squashes her lips together as he leans down to be in front of her face. "You're not dumb, princess." Her knees could give out at the sound of his voice calling her those little nicknames. "You know when guys are eyeing you up, practically undressing you in their mind."

Zafira whines and grasp his wrist to pull his hands off her face. "You know what will make you feel better, Ty."

Tyrion immediately shakes his head. "No, Zafira. We can't do that."

"You meanie~!" She whines and stomps her feet like a child throwing a tantrum, but it has no effect on your brother.

He merely glimpses down the empty corridors before glancing at his golden watch. "Call me whatever you want, but we are not doing it. It's a permanent thing-"

"It's my decision." She snaps and crosses her arms beneath her chest. "I already chose you; I already declared you as my mate, so why not just make it official!"

Your brother stares at her as if she said the dumbest thing possible. "Are we not official now!? Does everything we've been doing not matter unless we complete the bond!?"

Zafira's eyes are glazing over with tears. "We are, but that's not what I'm getting at. I want to do it with you even if it means that one day you will leave me. If that happens, it's my fault, but right now, it's just us. Why is this coming from the guy with abandonment issues!?"

Tyrion shakes his head like to signify that he is done with the conversation. He backs away and begins treating down the hallway.

"Wait, don't just walk away from me!" Her voice bellows through the empty corridor, but your brother waves her goodbye. "Tyrion, ugh!"

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Zafira's nails dance across her desk as she stares (more like glares) at the back of Tyrion's head. He's a few seats in front of hers and a row over.

His expression is barely visible, and his eyes are focused on the professors at the front. Notes are opened on his table, and his hand twiddles a black pen between his thin nimble fingers.

She can't focus on the lesson at all.

The teacher's voice is mumbled like he's speaking underwater, and the beating of her ragged heart is the dominant nose in her ears.

It's been half a day since they argued, and they haven't really spoken to each other. He's not even avoiding her, but he's undoubtedly become quieter.

Finally, the instructor ceased his rambling, and the fifteen-minute free time began. The dragon descendant wanted to get up and make her way to her boyfriend; however, she froze at the sight of another classmate nearing him.

It was an elven girl from one of the Alreda households. Her chest-length silver hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and pointed ears were decorated in jewelry; one of her piercings dangled her family's pin of a silver staff with blue diamonds decorating the stem.

Peering down at Tyrion's notes, her sapphire eyes danced across the papers before training her attention to the Rigel teen's face.

"Hi, I'm sorry, but I haven't been paying attention. Did you get all the notes from section eight?" She asks, and her voice sounds so f*cking high that it's sickening.

Zafira's grip on her desk tightened, and cracks formed.

Your brother glances at his notebooks before nodding his head and opening one of them. "Yeah, here. It's a bit of a mix with section nine, but it's easy to discern which ones which." He utters in that dreary tone he usually uses with people he didn't give a f*ck about.

Hearing this, the white-haired girl nodded her head as if she were proud of him.

The elf smiled to show her perfectly shaped white teeth and took the notes, her thin fingers grazing against his, which provoked your brothers' girlfriend to suck in a breath.

"Thank you very much. You're honestly a lifesaver. If I keep failing this class, my sister will have my head-"

It was obvious that this sentence caught the green-eyed teens' attention. His shoulders perked up, and he leaned forward. "Your sister?"

Zafira raised a brow.

Giggling, the elf nodded while holding the notebook close to her chest. "Yeup. My parents passed in one of the stupid wars between the other elves when I was a baby, so it's been my older sister raising me."

'Oh, no, no.' This girl was using her sob story of being raised by her older sister to get Tyrion interested in her because he could understand and sympathize.

"You know, if you're struggling with this subject, I could help you. I know what it's like to have an older sister breathing down your back."

By this point, her blood was boiling. Was he doing this on purpose!? Tyrion's not nice to people, so why is he suddenly offering his help to some sl*tty elf girl?!

Tyrion wasn't even this nice to her until months into their 'friendship.' If she knew this was how she could have gotten his attention, she would have made up a sob story about an older sibling months ago!

That f*cking sl*tty elf! She knew what she was doing!

By this point, the bell rang, and students flooded out without another thought. She raised her hand to wipe her nose, but a piece of her desk was stuck in her hand from ripping it off.

"Hey."

She flung her gaze up to see Tyrion in front of her as he held onto the strap of his bag. His expression is the usual impassive and emotionless face he always has, but there's slight inquisitiveness in his clover green eyes.

"I'll be in the library tutoring someone. Just send me a text before school ends, and I'll pick you up." He mumbles, and before Zafira can even respond, Tyrion is already walking away to where that elven girl is waiting for him.

She beamed brightly as he neared and began talking once they exited the room.

The golden-eyed descendant felt sick to her stomach. If it weren't against the academy rules, she'd bolt right out of her seat and kick her a**.

For a minute, she had a moment of clarity. Is this how sickly jealous Tyrion gets when other's get too close to her?

Swallowing thickly, Zafira found herself marching to the library like a woman on a mission. Making sure to stay out of her boyfriend's line of sight, the teen hid behind some of the thick bookshelves and spied on her partner.

Notes and textbooks were open on the desk, and Tyrion appeared to be speaking about something seriously.

His shaggy dark hair framed his head shape so nicely, and his green eyes contrasted pleasantly against his (s/c) face.

She found herself growing warm at the sight. Ever since she first laid eyes on him, she began to simp for him like it were no one's business.

His cold attitude, his disinterest in other people, his fit body, and his tall height. She could go on if her thoughts weren't interrupted by an overly forced laugh from the Elven student.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about how you remind me of my sister." Aerin mused as she leaned her head in the palm of her hand.

Zafira's fingers grasped onto the wooden bookshelves and squeezed to the point where the wood splintered.

"I see. We're getting off-topic here." Your brother stated as he reached over to grab another textbook.

The elf laughed awkwardly before clearing her throat.

It felt like a win to the dragon descendant, but it didn't last long, with the silver-haired teen scooting closer to Tyrion. "I don't have my glasses with me. Can you bring it closer?" She asked while folding a strand of hair behind her head.

He nods, either way too oblivious or playing along, and scoots closer to her. The teen didn't know that his girlfriend wasn't here, so he's obviously not putting on a show.

'IS HE JUST THIS DENSE!?'

Aerin's dark uniform had a few buttons undone at the top to showcase her massive cleavage that not only had Zafira hating in envy but also wishing hers was that big.

Did Tyrion like big breasts? Well, she liked his.

As she continued to watch this scene, her heart was getting closer and closer to exploding. But when the elf's hand touched his bicep and slid down to his elbow, Zafira saw red.

Bolting forward, the Ormr descendant snatched Tyrion's face and connected her lips with his. He was frozen for a moment, his eyes wide, but as the girl pushed her tongue down his throat, he succumbed to her wants.

Golden eyes met sapphire, and the clear fury on Aerin's face was the best thing Zafira had seen all day.

Pulling away, she kept her hands on your brother's face while displaying a sickly sweet smile to the other classmate. "Sorry, elfy, but my boyfriend and I got somewhere to be."

The silver-haired teen attempted to speak and stuttered over her words, but the descendant was already pulling the human away.

"Zafira-"

She tightened her grip on his wrist that she had grasped before flinging him into one of the benches in the garden.

"Are you dense or stupid or both!" She snarled, her fangs glinting in the sunlight and her fist shaking.

Tyrion raised a thick brow while tilting his head. "Princess, what are you talkin' about?" He asked, clearly sounding like he had no understanding.

Tugging on her white pigtails, she stomped her feet like throwing a tantrum. "What!? You can't notice when girls are flirting with you!? Or can you not get it through your thick skull that it's not right for a girl to touch someone else's man!"

Once again, his brain was whirring, and his body froze as he thought to himself before suddenly smirking. It was a sh*t-eating grin that provoked his girlfriend to blush brightly on her tan cheeks.

"Oh, I get it now. Is my princess jealous?" He teased and reached to touch her face, but she slapped it away.

"I'm not jealous! I'm possessive because you are mine!" She stepped closer to snatch his collar and yank him down to her height. "My boyfriend! My partner! My mate!"

That grin had yet to fall from your brother's lips as he reached for their hips and pulled her body closer to his. "You know, you're kind of hot when you're jealous."

She screamed and stomped her feet. "You motherf*cker! I'm going to hurt you! This-You did all that on purpose, didn't you!"

Tyrion scrunched his nose and scowled. "Come on, I'm better than that, and you know it. I don't want anyone else other than you." He stated in a calmer voice than his counterpart.

Zafira pursed her lips with her molten golden eyes glossing over. Her feelings are so strong and overwhelming, and as much as she can blame it on the mate bond, it's truly just her own insecurities.

In her eyes, in her heart, the teen in front of her was her literal soul partner. His attention was everything, and his touch drove her wild. Never before had she felt so alive when he kissed her or so important when he referred to her as his girlfriend when introducing her to other people.

Because of his abandonment issues, he fears losing her. But the descendant was not perfect either and felt like she would never be good enough for him.

"I'm scared that you'll find someone better than me." She whispers, finally cooling her boiling blood. "Everyone wants to be friends with you, to get to know you. I fear that you'll meet someone that gives you exactly what you want."

Swallowing thickly, your sibling pulled his girlfriend to one of the benches and sat down to settle her on his lap. He holds her close by her small waist while grasping her chin so she faces him. "Princess, that's never going to happen. I opened up to you. I told you my life story that I find so embarrassing. I introduced you to my guardians because their opinions are so important to me. I don't do that with just anyone, and I most definitely do not care about others' feelings like I do with you."

Clover green met molten gold as the teen girl reached to hold his prominent jaw. "I know. I know that I'm different, but it's hard for my kind. We love our mates so hard, and you walking around without my scent makes it so hard even to breathe." She expressed.

Tyrion's expression looks as though he's fighting back and forth with himself. His thoughts are conflicted, and he can't manage to get the words off the tips of his tongue.

"Princess, I can't do that. I can't hurt you like that if anything ever happens and we have to separate. You'll be bounded to me for life. And If I die, you can die as well-"

"Please." Zafira pleads and wraps her arms around his neck. "I'm willing to take that chance. You're the only one I'm ever going to want."

"Zafira, no. We are still just sixteen, and this is a rash decision-" The dragon descendant ceased his speech by connecting their lips together and pushing her chest against his so their hearts could practically connect.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Tyrion stared up at Zafira's ceiling, her LED lights pulsing between a multitude of colors. He laid bare beneath her pretty pink comforter as his girlfriend snuggled up against his side.

A grin was plastered on her lips that had yet to fall while humming to herself. In her hyper-feminine bedroom, your brother finally came to a realization hours later.

"Did you just manipulate me to get what you wanted?" He abruptly questioned the descendant.

She peered up leisurely, her grin widening and white hair pooling around her smaller figure. "Yes. Yes, I did. Now give me a kiss, mate."

The green-eyed teen laughed to himself before grasping the back of his partner's head and yanking her closer to him. "I get now why Ambrose practically kisses the ground my sister walks on."

"Oh, are you going to do the same to me~?" She mused, only to be silenced by a hand grasping her cheeks.

The human bit his bottom lip and tightened his hold. "You f*cking wish."

"But my prince, I always get what I want."

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

At this point, it just became a Tyrion and Zafira love story, but I support it.

Essentially, I just ended up writing a book. Every single one-shot on here could be its own book.

I did kind of leave off with Y/n on a cliffhanger for a pt.4, and I might get to it one day, but I'm trying to update my other books and work on other monsters.

Tell me if you guys liked it even though it was all over the place, lol.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳ ║The Half-Fae Police man║║━ Pt. 1 ━║

↳ ║The Half-Fae Police man║║━ Pt. 2 ━║

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚 signing out

[memyshelfandi234]

...this shit is fucking 🔥

║The Demon Childhood Friend║║━ Pt. 1 ━║

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Male Monster x Fem! Reader Word count║12,600

The Devil May Lick Me Masterlist ━━━➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞

↳.·:*¨༺𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧༻¨*:·.

↳║The Demon Childhood Friend║║━ Pt. 2 ━║ - in development

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Photo Reference Cred ━━━➤ 9taeX on X (Twitter)

Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately.

Now onto the story :)

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Six years old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Hey! Why are you sitting there all alone?" 

The movement of your legs stalled on the swing as you peered up through your hair. You hadn't expected two boys to appear in front of you like a flash of lightning. 

One of them had leaned down while tilting his head of light bubblegum pink hair. It was long, pulled into a high ponytail with bangs that split in the middle over his pale forehead. He observed your small stature sitting on the swing with otherworldy optics like he held the ocean in his iris. 

His eyes were doe-like and hooded, gracing him with a curious, youthful face that probably won over the hearts of young and old women. Lastly, before you diverted your attention away, you observed the golden halo hovering above his head.

The one beside him was a lot shorter and appeared apathetic as if he were annoyed to be here at the park. He had rather dark, woolly blond hair with nice curls that were longer by the back of his head. Even as he kept his small body at an angle, looking off into the distance, you were still able to see the vibrant scarlet colors in his iris'. 

Small angled eyes with long dark lashes could have had him mistaken for female if it were not for his facial features or body. Interestingly enough, unlike his counterpart, a pair of crystal-like horns sprouted from the top of his head. 

They were small, too, like little baby horns of a goat. It would be blind of you not to mention their set of wings, one a soft fluff of white feathers hidden beneath a long-sleeved shirt. The other, dark, leather in texture and featherless, curled inwards behind his back.

"Mom and Dad were arguing again." You murmur while dropping your small hands that held onto the chain on top of your lap. 

The angel boy raised his brow as his small lips formed into an o-shape. "Ah! You're the new girl that just moved in next to mine!" He stuck out his hand and offered it as he grinned boyishly. "I'm Javan, and this is my bestfriend Zagan. He also lives just down the street." 

You stared at his rather thin fingers for a moment before reaching for it with a bleak expression. Yet once your skin touched him, your entire stomach became a ball of heated lava, and the cynical emotions running rampant in your young mind became non-existent. 

The dark thoughts omitted from your mentality...it all became so clear. 

"What's your name?" Javan questioned as he held your hand firmly while that bright grin remained on his face. 

You had to swallow thickly before you could answer. "(Y/n)...I'm (Y/n)." 

"Nice to meet you!" He beamed before looking over at the demon boy. "Why don't we include (Y/n) into the group!? You know we kids need to stick together!" 

Zagan glanced at you for a moment before sighing and crossing his arms over this sweater. He didn't speak; probably didn't want another person to come into their already-established friendship and steal his best friend. 

It was understandable. 

"Oh, Zagan agrees! Then help me push her!" Before you could reply, Javan and Zagan appeared behind you and began pushing your back on the swing. 

It didn't take long for you to start moving. Creaking reverberated around the park as the setting sun painted the sky with molten gold. 

The wind rushing past your ear felt exhilarating, your heart skipping a beat as the sensation of your stomach dropping provoked tingling sensations to surge through your body. 

You had never gotten so high, so high that you can touch the clouds. It felt like you could finally do it... as if you could finally flutter away on a pair of wings. 

Weightless, feather-like, you could fly away anywhere but here. 

One of your arms stuck out to the dimming sky. You wanted to grasp that warmness and hold it close to your heart, never to let it go ever again.

And for a moment, it felt like you were doing it. Until the air swooshed past your ear, and your body was descending swiftly. 

"(Y/n)!"

The darkness of night took over as the lamps flashed with murky color. 

And the chill ate you alive until you were swathed in that same lava-like heat from before. Your eyes drifted from the sky to Javan's face, who held you firmly.

His wings had torn from his clothes to beat in the air as he slowly descended until he kneeled and sat you down on the tire chips. 

"Are you okay?" He questioned you, face full of worry, ocean blue eyes filled with dread. 

The words felt caught in your throat. 

A burning sensation sprouted in your chest, and it took everything in you not to cry. But when Zagan ambled over to kneel on the other side of your figure and lightly touched your shoulder, you felt overwhelmed. 

So you cried and bawled and wailed so hard that you were choking on air. Your face burned, the heat on your cheeks and ears hot like the burner on the stove. 

Wet tears fell as though they were never-ending, wetting your face and drenching your top. An ache so tense and strained gripped at your heart, squeezing to where you felt lightheaded. 

Zagan and Javan hadn't said a word as they kneeled by your side and let you cry your heart out. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Ten years old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

A tap resonated from your window as you hid beneath your comforter, reading the superhero comic book with a rather bulky flashlight. 

You had ignored it, mouthing the words on printed paper to yourself to practice your pronunciation. Turning the page, your lips parted to speak, and yet another tap at your window startled your movement. 

For a moment, you sat in silence, hearing it again before thrusting the blanket overhead. It was hot and stuffy under the covering that once you were out, the chilly breeze of the central air rose goosebumps over your skin. 

You nearly tripped, scooting off your bed and running over to your window. Kneeling over the cushioned bench, you forced it open to stick your head out. 

Zagan and Javan hovered in the air of your second-story house with their wings. They've grown a lot since you first met them; well, the pink-haired one grew the most.

He grew taller, his limbs longer, and his hair, tied in a high ponytail, reached the small of his back. His halo now pulsated brightly with the pure white aileron's lengthier, far longer than the length of a car.

Zagan, on the other hand, remained the shortest, shorter than you. He still had a lot of baby fat on his cheeks that were framed by his golden curls that grew longer, reaching his shoulders. Though, if something had grown, it had to have been his leathery bat-like wings that extended to such a length that you were surprised it was not getting stuck in the tree branches. 

"Baby girl!" The angel boy greeted as he smiled brightly and fluttered his white feathered wings.

That nickname used to be an insult because of how you cried your eyes out when they first met you. But then they both casually referred to you by it since you liked to call them Angel Boy and Demon Boy. 

When they call you it, you swear all your worries melt away, and you become a small little jewel that they cherish like a national treasure. 

You felt special and valued, adored by people who didn't see fault in your every move.

Instead of responding back joyfully as you usually would, you crossed your arms and turned the other way. "I'm not talking to you two! Not after you guys got me grounded!" Your young adolescent voice expresses out. 

The demon boy frowns while he twiddles his fingers behind his back with his batty aileron's twitching.

J had clicked his tongue and shrugged rather nonchalantly in his grey windbreaker. "You can't blame us forever, Baby! You were the one that wanted to fly to the satellite tower-" 

You flung your head towards the angel while sneering. "Yeah, but you both were the ones that flew into the camera with the news reporter! When my dad saw it, he flipped and took away all my privileges! That's why I'm still grounded after three months!" Your response only spurs the young boy to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. 

He could only grin and hope that bright smile he knew you loved would cheer you up. It was irritable how right he was. Although you were still upset, you wavered without even a fight. 

Javan was just someone you couldn't be mad at, and Zagan as well. Not when the demon looked like he would faint when you would ignore him and vice versa for you with the angel. 

"You guys are so lucky." You whine while sitting down on your bench and resting one of your arms on the windowsill. "Your parents never ground either of you."

The angel quirks a lopsided grin as he wags one of his fingers. "You can't get in trouble if they don't know~" His teasing remark spurs you to flick his forehead harshly. 

He winces slightly while you train your attention to the ends of your hair. "Easy for you to say when your parents don't monitor everything you do like a hawk. They only just recently allowed me to be in my room by myself during the day..." 

Zagan's scarlet red eyes flicker upwards to meet your gaze. "Sorry..." He whispers so softly that you almost miss it over the loud wooshing of the wind due to their flapping wings. 

You parted your lips to speak, yet it was interrupted by a voice. "(Y/n)! Who are you talking to when you're grounded!?" 

It was your father, and you could hear his heavy footsteps already stalking up the stairs. 

"Crap!" Javan groans. The angel boy flew over to kiss your forehead before waving goodbye and flying over to his house next door. 

You watched him glide so effortlessly away as the warmth on the spot he touched was mind-numbing and addicting. 

Z glanced down at the ground for a second before shuffling for something in his pants pocket. Just as the footsteps arrived at your door, he placed something in the palm of your hand and whispered softly against your ear. 

"I thought of you." 

His soft, boyish voice rose the hair on the back of your neck. 

The door squeaked open, and Z was gone like a flash of lightning. "Who said you could have your window open? Close it now." His voice is grating, pungent with authority as the man of the house. 

"Yes, Dad." You responded immediately and slammed it shut. Your blood is running cold, a type of chill that burns bitterly.

His presence lingers, staring at the back of your head like you are little prey unable to escape its trap. Then there are his eyes, those cold, lifeless eyes.

You never liked seeing those words in the books. Cold...Lifeless...how can one look like that? But as you grew older, you became aware. 

Nothing behind the eyes, empty and void of basic compassion. Or maybe he's only like that with you. Fathers know best for their daughters, right?

"Do you want more privileges to be taken away?" He questioned, which spurred you to immediately shake your head, gaze still situated on the wooden floor. "Should it be your bed or your books next?" 

"N-No, please." Your voice was feeble, powerless like an injured animal. "I'm sorry." 

His bulky body leans against the door frame while his arms crossed over his chest, and remains in silence. He lets the stillness unnerve you, the unknown of what is to come to scare you into compliance. 

So he just stood there while you sat on the bench, cornered and head bowed. 

The silence is so deafening. No, it's suffocating. As though quietness manifested into hands to grip your little neck and squeeze-

"Dad, the show's back on!" Your younger brother's voice cuts through the tension and gains the older man's attention. 

He huffs audibly and finally speaks. "When I say you're grounded, that means you're being punished for disobeying." The man retorts. "Don't piss me off again." And with that, he grasps the door handle and slams it shut. 

A hanging frame on the door tumbles from the force, with the walls of your room rattling. You don't move for a second, remaining stagnant to cease the quivering in your lips. 

"I hate you." It seethes from your lips before you rub your eyes free of a burning sensation. 

Now that you were alone, you allowed yourself to relax and unclench your fingers over the object Zagan had given you. What you come to see is a silver necklace with a small pendant. It's a pair of wings, silver and shiny, with something engraved on the smooth backside. 

'My Favorite Girl'

How gorgeous. It brought a smile to your face as you ran your finger over the present. The metal and jewels felt cool to the touch. 

You swiftly ran over to your vanity and chained the necklace around your throat like your life depended on it. 

Often, it felt as though Zagan was annoyed with you, rarely ever speaking while looking disinterested. But sometimes...sometimes, he did things that brought a smile to your face. 

Just like now. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Fourteen years old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Javan settled down in the seat next to you as he placed one of his arms around the back of your neck. Your gaze rose from the school Chromebook while you smiled at the male. 

The more he ages, the more he continues to grow. His limbs became lengthy, his pink bubblegum hair down to his knees, and all the youthful fat in his face graced him with a prominent jawline and hollowed cheekbones.

"Hey, you. I thought Mr. Voitier was going to keep you after class for not paying attention." You tease while reaching for an apple on your tray. 

It's lunchtime during eighth grade; you had sat in the courtyard attempting to fix homework you made a mistake on before it was due. 

The angel winks while wagging a finger. "Not some good 'ol persuasion couldn't help with." He states before sticking out his tongue. 

You scoffed, pinching his tongue before wiping the saliva on a napkin. "Threatening to tell the school that he's being biased because he's a demon isn't going to work forever. Eventually, he's going to lose his patience." 

J merely waves a hand, dismissing your words before he leans back in his seat. His ocean eyes peer over to your screen, which provokes a groan. 

"Sh*t. I didn't even know that was homework." 

"How did you not know? It literally says the due date at the top." 

The angel shrugs, and you roll your eyes. "This cannot be a habit, you know." His gaze is burning against the side of your face, provoking little tingles to run up your spine. "Fine...Fine, you can copy." Once you spoke, he beamed so brightly that his halo pulsated almost blindly. 

He's like the sun that you could have in your arms. 

"You're a lifesaver! Mom would kick my a** if I got anything below an A." He expressed with his white wings fluttering behind his back. 

He's so cute. 

"Yeah, yeah. If you would just stop being lazy and forgetful, you'd never have to worry." As you return your gaze to the Chromebook, you catch a glimpse of dark wings and light hair.

Blinking, you tilt the screen down as you hone in on the background. It was Zagan, for sure.  

You actually have not seen him around for a while now. He's always busy or off doing his own thing. Your parents do not trust you enough to have a phone, so it is not like you can just message him. 

Often, you do see him around his house down the street, but in school, it's like he's a ghost. 

Matching your sight, Javan stands up while unfortunately removing his arm from your shoulders. "Yo! Z, bud!" 

Zagan's movement froze as he removed his earbuds and directed his attention to the wall of windows. 

The demon boy was still the same as when he was years ago—chubby cheeks, short height, stick-like limbs, baby crystal horns, with his shaggy curly blond hair reaching his shoulders. 

What really changed was his wings, which were just massive, even longer than Javan's. He had to have it folded behind his back and buckled with a binding due to how difficult it was for him to keep the huge ailerons closed. 

It must hurt.

The male beside you waves his hand over, and at first, it appears as though the other person in the trio looks hesitant. 

But after a moment, he shifted his path and opened the doors to enter the courtyard. His scarlet horns glimmered like a gleaming diamond under the sun. 

Javan and Zagan share a quick handshake before he nods over to acknowledge your presence. 

"Whatchya been up to, man? We barely see you anymore." The angel starts as he returns to sit down next to you. 

His right hand found its place on your thigh, and you swore your heart nearly lurched out of your stomach. The heat of his skin that you could feel through your clothes was swathing you in a bubble of delight. 

It was addicting and comforting and had shot tingles all across your abdomen. 

The demon boy swallowed rather audibly as he turned his head away. "Just been busy." He states, his voice slightly cracking. 

Hmm, why wasn't he telling you two about it? You all shared everything with each other. 

"I get it, man. Just don't forget about us. We've been friends for way too long just to grow apart." Javan expressed, and you nodded your head in agreement. 

"We are here for you, Z." His scarlet eyes fling down to meet your gaze. "With whatever's going on, we'll listen. We'll support you through anything. That's what friends are for." 

He swallows thickly again, his one hand hanging by his side twitching before curling into a fist that he hid in the pocket of his sweatshirt. "Yeah, I know. Thanks for that." His phone abruptly vibrates, and he snatches it swiftly, reading something on the screen with hard eyes before sighing. "I gotta go." 

Before either of you can tell him goodbye, he was trekking back into the school with his tied wings beating against the binding. 

A scowl laces your lips as you slouch in your seat. "I hope he's okay." You murmur, which prompts the angel to squeeze his hand on your leg. 

Your fingers twitch as you train your attention to meet his bright eyes. "He's fine. You know he's just always been moody." The pink-haired being expresses while reaching for his own phone.

Either on instinct or tendency, your dominant hand rose to graze over the winged pendant beneath your blouse. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Knocking audibly on the door, you could hear courses of children screaming and laughing with objects falling to the ground. 

It took a moment for the front door to be opened, and you were welcomed by the sight of Jahi, Zagan's mother. 

She's a beautiful woman, blessed with beautiful features, a small mole on her chin, and small, sharp cat-like eyes with long lashes. You could see where Zagan got his hair from, his mother sprouting bright golden curls that reached her hips. 

Her wings were something else, still leather-like but marked with swirling scarlet red lines that seemed to glow.

There was a small toddler hanging off her shoulder with one on top of her head and another babbling in her arms.

"Hi, Aunty!" You greet and grip the straps of your backpack. "Is Zagan home?"

"Baby!" She gushes down at you from her tall height while using the childhood nickname the two boys in your trio used. "It's been a while since you've been over. Everything alright?" 

For a moment, you feel the inner corner of your eyes tense and burn, but you push it down to smile and nod your head. "Yes, Aunty! Eighth grade is just so busy." 

Jahi nods before she catches one of her kids that fell from her head without even looking. "I understand. Don't be afraid to come over more often, even if it's just for dinner. Come in; Zagan's down in his room." 

You bowed slightly before entering her large home and immediately removed your shoes. Two other kids covered in paint ran past swiftly while knocking over a vase. 

Aunty Jahi practically teleported over and caught the porcelain object with one of her wings. "It looks like the kiddos are rather active today." You jest while helping her to put the vessel back on the stand. 

"No kidding." She murmurs while leading you over to the kitchen. Easily, she holds two of the tykes in one arm as she rummages through the refrigerator before pulling out a bowl of fruit. "Have a snack. I'll be making dinner soon." 

A lopsided grin forms on your lips from the habit you've always had. Every time you all used to come over, the older demon woman had snacks for you to eat. 

Whether it be fruit, candy, or pastries. Carefully, you took the bowl and nodded. "Okay, Aunty. I'll see you in a bit." 

She waved you away as you strode through the home like second nature. The residence was big, bigger than all the houses in the neighborhood. 

It made sense with all the children in the Lamia household—at least seven children, with Zagan being the oldest. He likes to say that he can't stand his siblings, but he's cared for them like a third parent. 

He'll say he hates them, but you've never seen someone who'd go to the ends of the world to find a cure when his brothers and sisters have just a cold. 

Yeah, the demon boy goes on and on about wanting to move away, but you both know he'd worry himself sick about the other kids.

Watching your footing, you strolled downstairs to the basement, where you passed one of Z's younger brothers by a year reading on the couch in the common area. 

They were rather similar looking, except he was taller, a little more aged in the face, and his horns had grown to curl back over his ears. 

If you weren't family friends, you would have guessed the second and third oldest had come before Zagan because of how fast they grow...it's something Zagan's very insecure about.

"Hey, Alastor." You greet him as you pass.

He peers up for a second before returning to his book. "Hey, (Y/n)." 

Down the hallway, the last door at the end, you approach unhurriedly before knocking loudly. You wait for a response, and once you get a quiet 'what,' you open it. 

Zagan's changed into a pair of sweats with a matching dark sweater. His attention is on the gaming computer as he effortlessly clicks the buttons on his controller without even looking. 

Once his gaze flickers over to you for a moment, he's startled and bangs his knee against the desk. "F*ck..." He curses under his breath as he yanks the headphones off his head.

You hold in a giggle and step in fully to close the door behind your figure. 

"What are you doing here?" He snaps, practically hissing it out as he slides out from the desk to rub his knees. 

"Why else?" You retort, dropping your bag against the wall to settle on his wide bed. "I miss you and came to check in because it feels like you're ignoring us." 

Zagan frowns at your words; his gaze focuses on his legs for a second before he returns them to his screen. "You should have just texted-" 

"I don't have a phone, remember." 

He's silenced as you begin plopping the fruits into your mouth and snacking on them as if you had been starving. 

The demon boy returned to his game, placing back on his headphones but keeping one earpad off so he could hear if you spoke. 

Indulging in the comfortable ambiance of his button clicking and the muffled screaming of his siblings upstairs, you watched him play silently. 

Not long after, you grasped your bag and took out a folder with homework that needed to be completed. You lay on your stomach, kicking your legs back and forth while reaching for fruit in the bowl. 

When it came to spending time with Zagan, you both enjoyed doing your own thing in each other's presence. And considering that the demon boy didn't often speak either, you did most of the talking as he either nodded along to what you were saying or grunted in response. 

It was comforting and something you've missed. For a while now, there felt to be this distance growing, like he were on the other side of the bridge with the path crumbling apart. 

You didn't want to lose him. 

"Where's Javan? Thought you'd be with him." He abruptly speaks up, cutting off the neutral silence. 

"Javan had something to do with the Angel community." You state while turning over the packet to the next page. "Something about reconnecting with their beliefs or whatever." 

Although you do not see, the demon nodded his head while saving his game. He removed his headphones to hang them on his monitor before turning his gaming chair to face your figure lying on his bed. 

Feeling his gaze, you peered up while smiling. "Hey, there, Demon Boy. I missed you." 

Zagan swallowed thickly at your words, his throat visibly bobbing as he gripped the rest of his seat tightly. You didn't notice earlier, but beneath his vibrant eyes were dark undercircles.

Had he not been sleeping well? He was always the last one to fall asleep and the first one up during sleepovers. 

Even Jahi used to take him to the hospital for chronic insomnia, and they thought it was resolved. Guess not. 

"Do you-" 

"I know that you are in love with Javan." 

You choked on a bite of fruit, a stinging sensation sprouting in the back of your throat as you sat up to cough. "W-What?! No! What are you even talkin' about?" Zagan's expression was not pleased. "Was it...Was it really that obvious?" 

He scoffed while nodding and leaning back in his seat. 

Groaning, you ran a hand through your hair while keeping your eyes down. It felt difficult at that moment to meet his gaze. "I didn't want anyone to know. I don't want anything to ruin our friendship, you know? We're already becoming distant." 

The embarrassment was eating you alive. 

"Baby Girl..." It's been years since he has called your name, even longer since you've heard him use that nickname. It makes shivers run up your spine as a tingling in your abdomen flutters. "You know that Javan's not really..." He stops himself from speaking anymore as if he couldn't find the words. "Javan's not really who you think he is. Don't you see fast he switches up when you're around?"

Raising a brow, you shook your head. "Actually, no, I don't. What do you mean by that?"

He respired a heavy breath, appearing unsure and doubtful as he shifted in his seat. "F*ckin' A... Listen, you might think you know Javan, but you really don't. He's not...He's not a good person-" 

"What are you talking about!" You interjected, feeling heat flush through your body and a wave of vertigo. "I've known him since forever. I know him. Why are you talking down on our friend like that?" 

His constrained wings twitched, pushing against the binding that had the straps whine. He attempted to speak, his lips parting, but only wheezes escaped. 

Cursing again, his thin, bony fingers gripped tightly onto the armrest as his right leg began to bounce. "Please, if you value our friendship, just listen to me." 

Oh, how you wanted to walk away right there, but what he said halted you in your spot. Of course, you valued your friendship with him; he was your best friend. 

He was your family. 

"Baby, Javan knows you like him. Everyone knows." Your face was burning in embarrassment; it felt so humiliating for some reason. "He doesn't feel the same. H-He's rather ashamed and disgusted-" 

"You're lying!" It was practically a scream as you shot to your feet off the bed. "Javan would never say that!" The inner corner of your eyes stung as tears glazed over the conjunctiva. "He's not like that! You're just envious that he's always been better than you!" 

Due to your words, the rage boiling your blood had now transferred over to the demon in front of you. Zagan stood up almost dangerously slow, like a predatory. "You think that's why I'm envious..." He nearly snarled while his canines visibly grew longer and sharper. "I don't give a flying f*ck that he's taller, bigger, smarter. He could be better than me in a hundred more ways, but it wouldn't even come close to why I'm envious of that b*stard." 

Seething hot tears trailed down your face, seeping down your chin to wetten your throat. You didn't know how to feel, what exactly to feel. 

All your emotions were taken for a spin: disoriented, puzzled, dumb-struck. Who is telling the truth? Who is right? 

They both are your best friend, the people closest to your heart that makes your days brighter and nights calmer. 

But how do you react when the one you're utterly in love with isn't who you thought he was? Or when the other confronts you with what could be the truth...but also a lie? 

"Please, Z. Just...just tell me that you didn't mean it, and I'll forget-" 

The straps containing his massive wings had snapped from the force as they extended outwards. The dark, leathery ailerons knocked over objects and slashed through metal shelves attached to the walls. 

You nearly fell over from the sudden action, intimidated by the spikes that lined the edge at the top. Not only was it long in width, but the height of it was nearly double his stature.

They don't grow their wings like that; they don't get so big they are nearly twice their size. But his had the possibility of rivaling Satan.

"Ever since we were kids, you've let him get away with everything. You've overlooked too many flaws for me to stand here and let you get your heart broken." He reached forward to wipe a tear away, but you couldn't stand the touch of him at the moment. 

It can't be true. 

"What does it matter to you..." It's a broken cry, whimpering from your lips as your heart shatters inside regardless. 

It just can't be true.

"I-" His chest decompresses while his wings descend like a deflating toy. "Baby, I care about you-" 

"Then why are you lying to me!?" 

Zagan startles you as his hands latch onto your shoulders and squeeze. "I'm not lying! Not to you! Not to my Baby." His already slightly high pre-teen voice squeaked, and he cringed at his tone. 

So overwhelmed, filled with grief and disbelief, you stepped backward and spoke to him in a way you never have before. "No, I'm not your Baby. Not anymore." 

It was as if you watched his world crumble in his scarlet eyes. "(Y-(Y/n)...please." 

You couldn't breathe at all, as if someone had your lungs in their hands and were depriving you of any air. With blurry sight, muddled with tears, you turned away and shoved your things into your bag. 

His wings were still in the way; those beautiful things that you loved to play with when he would allow it made the tears all the worse now. "Let me out." You ordered. 

The hands that were once holding your shoulder dropped to hang limply by his side, weak, frail, unstable. "If I let you go, then that's it." 

You were losing strength in your legs.

"(Y/n), don't leave me...please." He begged while stepping forward, but you turned your head away. 

Your grip on the straps of your bag was not enough padding to save your palms from being burrowed into by your nails.  "Goodbye, Zagan."

That was it. You both knew that it was final; there was no going back from this. The friendship has been tarnished, and trust broken. 

It will never be the same again. 

Hesitantly, Zadan curled in his massive wing, and you didn't waste another moment running out of there.

You flung the door open and scurried down the hall. 

Alastor was still in the common room on the couch and waved to you without looking away from his book. "Goodbye, (Y/n)." 

"Goodbye, Alastor." 

You passed the other Lamia siblings who called out to you, and you had to say goodbye, knowing you'd never be back here again. 

On your way to the front door, you tried to be silent, holding down a sob, but when you heard Jahi calling out to you from behind, you nearly bawled right then and there. 

"I'll see you soon, right, Baby?" 

You sniffled, hiding your face as you forcefully shoved your feet into your shoes and half-a**ed-tied them. "Of course, Aunty!" Faking the enthusiasm hurt like a punch to the gut. "I'll see you again soon."

Before she could reply, you left as fast as you could. There's no one left to turn to but him; you need to see him. 

Without a phone or any way to contact him, all you could do was return home and wait for him to get back from the event. 

At first, you walk as if your legs are broken, but the ardent emotions spur you to bolt down the street back to your house. 

You fling the door open and hasten down the hallway to get up the stairs. Your father yells out to you, followed by your younger brother, whose mocking words pierce you like blunt knives. 

The sobs raking your body are excruciating, aching as if your entire figure is cold rubber being pulled. It feels even worse here with all the memories. 

Pictures of the three of you are everywhere: the unfished projects worked on together, and the clothes still left over from when they used to sneak in for a sleepover. 

You cannot stand it; you cannot handle it. 

Everything must go.

There is no carefulness or being mindful of how you handle the things in the room; you throw them into plastic bags with the full intent of being rid of everything. 

Yet when you collapse to your knees to catch your breath, the necklace he gave you slips out from underneath your shirt. 

The sight only provoked your wails to become silent, merely broken, stuttering wheezes as the stress spurred sleep to hold you tightly and close your eyes. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

A warm touch ran through your hair while the same heat traveled up and down your spine in a soothing manner. 

"Hey, it's not good to sleep on the cold wooden ground." 

Your awareness was returning, and you groaned audibly while cracking your puffy eyes open. "Mmm, Javan...?" 

He hums in acknowledgment, and as your vision focuses, you see that you are moved onto your bed, the angel boy sitting at the edge as he comforts your head in his lap. 

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, Baby." He cooed softly as the singing of grasshoppers filled your room due to the open window. 

His presence, the god-like radiance, was cathartic, like the pounding of raindrops on the roof. Everything had felt so cold, and you felt so alone. 

With Javan here, as he holds you, it's like heaven. 

You tell him everything, everything that happened when you visited Zagan at his home. Without mentioning your feelings for him, you skidded over that part, but it wasn't needed to explain the event.

It hurts inside as if you swallowed a cluster of needles. 

The angel listens silently as he continues to rub your back and send tingles through the muscle. By the time you finished, a new set of tears had befallen your face; however, your throat ached too much to wail audibly. 

"I'm so sorry he did that to you. I knew he had always been rude and inconsiderate, but I didn't think he would ever try to smear my name or break your heart." He murmurs while tilting his head. "I really thought our friendship meant something to him." 

You could barely nod with exhaustion interwoven in your limbs. "Me too..." 

One of Javan's hands lightly grazed over your lips as he trailed it down your neck. "You know how much I care about you, right?" 

【"What does it matter to you..." It's a broken cry, whimpering from your lips as your heart breaks inside regardless. 

"I-" His chest decompresses while his wings descend like a deflating toy. "Baby, I care about you-" 

"Then why are you lying to me!?"】 

You do not trust your voice, only nodding your head as you turn over to hide your face against his abdomen. 

"I cannot tell you enough about how important you are to me." Javan's hand reached down as he clasped his fingers with yours. "You are my everything, Baby. You are my sun-" He squeezed your conjoined hand. "-my moon-" Leiursurely, he leans down to hover by your ear. "-you are the air I need to breathe-" And finally, you felt the softness of his succulent lips caressing the skin of your neck. "-and the strength that lets me fly. I cannot be without you." 

He kisses down your throat until he reaches your shoulder so he can hide his face in the crook of your neck. "Don't let his hurtful lies make you question our friendship, our relationship. We don't need him anyway. Right?" 

When you don't reply, he pulls away and lightly swivels your head to look up at him. "Right, Baby girl? We don't need him. Can you say it?" 

"W-We..." It feels as though you have no voice even to speak. No one wants to drop a friend, let alone one from childhood that was like family. 

Shaking your head, you attempt to pull away; however, you are not permitted to leave. Javan maneuvers your position, with you on your back, as he leans over from above. 

The beautiful white feathered wings flap lightly in the air as the moon glimmers behind him, darkening his halo. 

"You can do it, Baby. I know you can." The angel boy lightly pressed his open palm on your stomach as he stared down with otherworldly eyes. "Here, I'll even say it with you."

 

"I-" 

His hand on your belly lifts so his fingertips trail up to your neck. 

"I-"

He wraps them around your throat, tingles jolting across your skin. 

"-Don't-" 

The angel leans down just close enough to where your nose barely touches.

"-Don't-"

You feel hot beneath your clothes as if you were lying in a sauna. 

"-Need-" 

Your heart hurts, filled heavily with the distraughtness of losing your best friend. 

"-Need-" 

The closeness...the proximity of your bodies were suffocating your lungs. 

"-Him-" 

It's one word, but the impact of it was greater than an asteroid colliding with the moon. 

"-Him-"

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Eighteen years old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Even early in the morning, the common room of the high school was bustling with activity. You felt heated beneath baggy clothes as you chewed on a piece of gum. 

The insides of your stomach ached as though they were eating its self alive. 

With your cracked phone in hand, your fingers danced over the keyboard as you debated whether or not to double-text. 

Javan has left you on read again without a single response. You've been attempting to get in contact about when you could give him the essay that he needed help with. 

During senior year, you know he's busy with Track and Lacrosse, and he doesn't have the time to check in with you like he used to. 

It doesn't help that it's hard to get close to him. High school does what high school does. 

Angels run with run angels, devils and demons congregate together, and any other monster type sticks with their kind. 

There obviously were a few outcasts, but even then, it was hard to be included. Not even mentioning how the small populations of humans weren't a fan of you. The humans said you were too close to the monster, and the monsters didn't like you because you were human. 

Lose/lose situation. 

Just thinking about it always puts a damper on your mood. The isolation and seclusion were nothing new; it was merely exhausting to have to do everything by yourself. 

You threw the broken phone on the round table in the common room and leaned over the AP history textbook that was open. Its cold, plastic-like texture felt pleasant against your warm skin. 

Sleep hasn't been gracing you for a while now. There have been just too many things to do. So much homework, more than half, not even yours. Javan already had so much on his plate. As his best friend, it felt only right to help him as much as you could. 

Resting the side of your head on your arms, you stared out at the entrance of the school. More students poured into the halls as the time grew closer to the first period. 

Hopefully, Javan arrives by himself, so you won't need to deal with the other angels questioning your presence. 

For beings that were made to be messengers of god, they were rather concerned about their vanity. Well, that's what happens when they are left to themselves.

They become rather human in their sins. 

Your already sour mood became acidic as the one person you wish you didn't have to see walked through the door. 

He had to bend down from his 6'6 (198.12cm-1.9812m) height, the grown crystal horns on top of his head only causing more hassle; it nearly scraped against the already lofty door frame. 

Zagan used to believe that his horns would never grow, considering his younger siblings had curled and extended way earlier than he ever did.

The demon boy was just a late bloomer. 

He used to be this short, scrawny little guy who was never in the slightest popular. Many of your peers picked on him, mocking him for his appearance, calling him a pathetic excuse of a demon. 

Now, he was practically the poster child. His muscles grew, making him beefy and bulky. His upper torso was wide, more specifically, his shoulders, with his chest broadening. 

Through his tighter clothes, anyone could see the muscle definition of his abbs and v-line. Before, Zagan was never one for such fitted clothes; you knew he was always insecure about his skeletal limbs and hid them beneath sweats and oversized attire. 

Similar to his upper body, his legs grew just as muscular and thick. They fitted dark jeans perfectly to where you could see the curves and meat beneath the cloth. 

What has also changed is his hair. His blonde curls were less defined, and he cut them so they were just slightly beneath his ear. 

His earlobes are now pierced and riddled with embellishments and rings. Those beautifully dangerous batty wings of his had somehow grown even larger; the width was nearly unbelievable, with the height a little past his head. 

The spikes were pointier, more ominous. 

At first, when he was younger, he needed to bind his abnormally large wings for his size because he didn't have the control to keep them closed or out of the way. Now, he still has to bind them only because they are so oversized that even when he curls them in, it's like he walks with a wall behind him.

Zagan Lamia went from being super nerdy and a loner to a big shot that everyone wanted to be affiliated with...everyone but the angels and you. 

Now, your ex-friend ran with the other demon students. He was like a celebrity, someone the girls threw themselves at, and the boys always tried to get into his good gracious with. 

Sometimes, when you look at his mature appearance, you wonder if it was you who was holding him back from his potential. 

For a moment, it felt as though Zagan's scarlet red gaze rose to meet yours as he swiped his tongue over his plump bottom lip. A small black ring pierced the left side of his lip, and he appeared to fiddle with it as he neared. 

Your heart abruptly skipped a beat, and the back of your neck was drenched with sweat. 

It's as though he's deadset on making his way to you, but a warm hand on your neck startled you. Your head flew up as you swung your gaze in the other direction. 

Javan plopped his body down in the seat beside yours and tilted his head while smiling almost coyly. "What were you looking at, Baby?" 

Your stomach coils like two hot wires being twisted around each other. Glancing back swiftly, there doesn't appear to be any trace of Zadan. He's nowhere to be seen, and that's saying something.

"Nothing." You murmur softly and return your attention to the angel. "Just thought I saw something, must be my mind playing tricks on me." 

He hummed slowly, staring at your phone tossed aside on the table before glancing at your face. "I can see that you haven't been sleeping. Bad dreams?" His words are laced with honey, so sweet that you devour it like a greedy little kid. 

You don't want to seem incompetent by confessing that you feel overwhelmed by your workload, so you attempt to smile and nod your head. "Yeah, bad dreams and Yose's little pranks getting out of hand." 

Javan laughs lightly; you're sure that he can easily imagine that annoying little menace of a brother bothering you. 

Similar to Zagan, the angel had grown and matured just as much. He didn't get beefy like the demon; his build was more athletic and toned. 

His muscular limbs were proportionate to his 6'2ft (188.976cm - 1.8796m) stature, the white feathered wings just as big and as tall as himself. They curled perfectly behind his back; wouldn't be a problem unless he unfurled them outwards. 

That long hair of his was no more. He cut it so it was long bangs over his forehead and a mullet of some sort down the back of his neck. 

There was just something about the angels and the way they dressed; they were always on trend, stylish, and attired in a manner that always made their bodies look the best. 

It was like having supermodels strutting down the halls, not accounting for the succubus' or Incubi. 

Realizing why you were upset in the first place, you dig through your heavy backpack to pull out your Chromebook. "Before I forget, let me send the essay to you." 

Javan beamed, his ocean eyes practically glimmering as he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. "I literally forgot. You really are a lifesaver!"

【The angel shrugs, and you roll your eyes. "This cannot be a habit, you know." His gaze is burning against the side of your face, provoking little tingles to run up your spine. "Fine...Fine, you can copy." Once you spoke, he beamed so brightly that his halo pulsated almost blindly. 

He's like the sun that you could have in your arms. 

"You're a lifesaver! Mom would kick my a** if I got anything below an A." He expressed with his white wings fluttering behind his back. 

He's so cute. 

"Yeah, yeah. If you would just stop being lazy and forgetful, you'd never have to worry." As you return your gaze to the Chromebook, you catch a glimpse of dark wings and light hair.】

It's been four years, but that memory from the courtyard in middle school suddenly flashed in your mind. So long ago, but the recollection still feels as though it were yesterday. 

The loss still feels so fresh. 

"Right..." You wheeze out before clearing your throat. "What are your plans today? I've been wanting to get out of the house and go somewhere other than work." 

J appears to think intently, his gaze almost out of focus, before he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "I don't think I can. The community is meeting up at the grand church for a ceremony tonight." 

The dejection is evident, your shoulders sagging, but it's what you expected. He's ever so busy; you should be more considerate of his schedule. 

Humming, you sent over the documents through email as you kept your gaze away from meeting his. "Are you still going to senior formal?" You question just to start a conversation. 

It's been weeks since you've actually been able to speak face-to-face with him. You're soaking his attention in as much as you can.

"Yeah, I wasn't gonna go, but the others convinced me." 

"Oh~?" Your lips form into a faux smile. "Javan Wyn was peer pressured?" 

The hand on the back of your was removed to flick at your forehead. "I don't get peer pressured." He stated, which spurred you to roll your eyes. 

"Alright, whatever you say, Angel Boy. Do you have at least a date?" 

"No." 

The heat beneath your baggy clothes grew worse, and a sudden surge of anxiety flushed through your bloodstream. "Are you going to ask someone?" 

You don't know whether you want him to say yes or no. He's so handsome, his appearance nearly a blessing of god. It's astounded you that he isn't in a relationship. 

Everyone flocks to him. 

And you're still in love with him after twelve years.

"Hmm." He leans over the table and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. "I haven't really put any thought into it." 

A breath of air you hadn't realized you were holding in was released as you laughed. What did you expect? 

He's never voiced anything about liking any of the girls at the school, and you'd know. Best friends tell each other everything. 

"Well, if you come up with someone in mind, won't you tell me first?" You offer while leisurely closing your Chromebook. 

"Sure, Baby. You'll be the first to know." Javan laughs under his breath while swiping a loose strand of hair over to behind your ear. Doing so, he was able to see a very small hair clip you had to keep some frays out of your face. 

"What's this?" He questions, and you're unable to meet his gaze. 

You immediately remove the clip and conceal it within the palm of your hand. "Oh! I-It's nothing. I just forgot to take it out. My hair was just getting in the way." 

Whatever the angel says goes a long way for you. If he says a certain color looks good on you, you're altering your whole theme. 

When he tells you, 'I really like it when you wear baggy clothes. You don't look good when you wear anything tight.' You change your entire wardrobe, so maybe he'll like you more. 

Maybe his eyes would linger on you more when you listen when he says, 'Don't wear make-up, you look so much better bare-faced. Make-up just doesn't fit someone like you.' 

Perhaps he'll tell you he likes the way you look when you do your hair just the way he likes it. 'It's ugly when you put those clips in your hair, ya know. I only like girls who keep their hair up in a bun. Yeah, yeah, that suits you much better.' 

You would do anything for him. 

"Don't forget next time." Javan reprimands and reaches for the colorful metal clip in your hand. "It's ugly when you wear it." 

Your throat tightens, constricting with the sensation of sobbing, attempting to force its way through. But you swallow it down and nod your head with a small, frantic smile. "Of course." 

His warm fingers graze over your palm to take the clip in his own and leans back to aim and toss it in the garbage can against the wall. "There." He murmurs while turning back to face you with a gleaming smile. "You look so much better when you're like this." 

Simple, he likes it when you appear simple and clean. He likes it when you wear ill-fitting clothes, even when it's hot, and you're swathed in sweat. He likes it when you tie your hair up, fringes, and lose hair gelled back. 

He likes it when you do nothing more. 

The bell rings, which draws his attention as well as that of other students who scatter to get to class on time. The angel stands and pats your face lightly while grazing his thumb over your lip. 

Your entire stomach is doing front lips, and you could melt in his angelic touch. 

"I'll see you around, Baby." And with that, he departs from the common area to leave you alone just as you were before.

It was nice while it lasted, but all good things must come to an end. 

"See you around, Javan." It whispers from your lips as you shift in your seat to collect your things.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂ 

You hate that sensation, the feeling of chlorine in your hair. Even as you try to scrub and wash it out after aquatic fitness, that awful tacky and dry sensation sticks to every strand. 

It sucks, considering how much you enjoyed swimming. Weightless, fluid, as if you're flying away from here. The way your hands split the water, the manner in which your body glides through it so easily, drives all your worries to melt away. 

Shutting off the shower in the female locker room, you reach for your towels and wrap them around your body and hair. 

There should still be at least ten more minutes before the bell rings for the end of class. You can take a little bit of time to look presentable-ish. 

As you enter the lockers, it appears that all the other girls had finished before you, already gone. Not that you minded either; you didn't like their eyes on your body, judging in the way they always do. 

You're just a little human in a world of monsters.

Sighing, you undid the code to the lock and opened the locker. Instead of seeing your change of clothes and other items, it was bare.

Not a single object or article of clothing. 

Your entire stomach filled with dread, and dropped to your knees. 

"Awe, whatever happened to your clothes~?" It's a sickeningly sweet voice that originated behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as your heart skips a beat. 

Laughing lightly even though you desire to scream, you remove the towel from your hair and slowly turn around. "I just can't seem to keep my things together." 

It's suffocating, standing in only thin, short clothes as six other students surround you, four angels and two humans. 

Water trickled down your neck while you swallowed thickly. 

"Oh, we agree." One of the angels expresses and steps forward. "Which is why you need to learn a lesson~!" She's so pretty; is such a shame her personality is rotten.

You latched onto the front of your towel as you stepped back, only for the locker to shock you with the contrast of heat. 

"I-I'm sure I'm innocent." You're losing your voice, becoming guttural like you had been screaming it away. "What did I do?"

A human girl latches her hand on your bicep and tugs you so hard that you nearly slip on the cold concrete ground. 

"You need to be reminded of your place." 

Before you can attempt to de-escalate the situation, your other arm is latched onto, and you're being dragged away. 

There is no grip on your bare feet that you are just sliding on the floor. You can only hold onto that thin towel to keep even a bit of your modesty. 

"Stop it! Hey!" They bring you closer to the exit, where loud chattering emanates from. Classmates and other students must fill the large open area where the hallway had opened up for gatherings. 

Your elbow slams back, knocking into one of the girl's noses. She gasps, and blood immediately begins to trickle down. 

She licks it while a terrifying sneer forms on her plump lips. "You bitch!" Her hand latches onto the back of your knotted, wet hair as two others open the door. 

They managed to drag you through the door and thrust you outwards so you fall forward. You're barely able to catch yourself, striking your knees on tile that immediately spurred an onset of blood to stream down your shins. 

Laughter...Laughter reverberates outwards, so loud that the vibrations echo beneath the ground. 

You feel sick. 

The one you had hit grasped onto the back of your hair again. She tugged your head upwards to look at everyone while also grabbing onto the bottom of your jaw. 

At least more than half of your grade had congregated in this massive area, and they surrounded you like a school of fish.

"Look, everyone! It's the girl who thinks she's better than us!" 

Ice runs through your veins, so cold that it's a burning sensation. The insides of your throat swell up, depriving you of air. 

You're scared.

You're humiliated. 

They're laughing at you, their giggles and cheers so deafening it's as though they are bursting your eardrums. 

"Come on!" A different girl locks onto your wrist and pulls you to your feet with her pure strength. "Where did all that entitlement go!?" 

Not even a second after you are standing, were you kicked down and forced to collapse on your bruised and rived knees. 

A strangled gasp wheezed from your lips as the inner corner of your eyes stung. Tears clouded your conjunctiva before trickling down your heated face. 

"Doesn't she deserve a little humility!?" Courses of 'yes' and cheers echo like the booms of fireworks. They begin chanting...chanting to take everything away. 

These people wanted to ruin you. 

Your hand holding up the towel was yanked away as another gripped the cloth to tear it off your body. 

"No!" Just as you finally release your voice, a vociferous snapping sound overtakes the shouting and replaces it with gasps. 

Scarlet red eyes meet your gaze as his wings tear apart the binds and extend outwards, knocking nearly half the crowd to the ground. 

He practically teleported in front of your figure to yank you up to your feet by one of your wrists and hold you tight to his body. 

The massive size of his wings is not just for show as he flaps them; the force sends everyone tumbling away, skidding across the ground and hitting the walls. 

You cannot breathe, even with your lungs expanding and retracting vigorously and your mouth gulping in the air like a fish; lightheadedness only grows more intense. 

Zagan's burly arm wraps firmly around your back as he hauls you back into the locker room, the male locker room. 

A clamorous cry echoes out from your lips as you grip his shirt, burrowing your nails in his thick, muscled waist. You didn't mean to cry, to wail out and release this visceral wail that rattles through your entire being.

He doesn't say a single word, merely picking your much smaller figure into a bridal position. His body heat contrasted against the chill of your damp person in such a way that you immediately succumb to his warm hold. 

To be against his body brings back so many memories, all before the fallout, before the trio became nothing anymore.

You've missed him so much. 

Why did it have to be this way?

The strength of your sobs worsens, racking through your bones. Zagan's wings surround the two of you, blocking out the light and muffling the sounds from outside.  

It's only the quiet hum of the internal conditioning and your blustering cries. Your face is hidden against his pecs, wetting his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind. 

He only continues to hold you like you're a cracked vase, precious, broken, and needing his undivided attention. 

Even though your nose is stuffed, this close proximity and protective surroundings of his wings allow you to smell his scent. 

Zagan smells like an early dawning, with fog concealing the world and honeydew drops garnishing the grass. 

This is not the smell of heaven, but damn, does it feel like paradise. 

Soon, without a single word being spoken, your cries cease to become hiccups and whimpers. Strength has dissipated from your muscles, leaving your entire being exhausted. 

You just want to fall asleep and never wake up. 

The demon boy leans his head down, and though it is void of light while swathed in his batty wings, you can feel his gaze on your face.

His one arm under your shoulder gingerly pushed up upwards so you were sitting on his lap. He held onto your bare thigh while allowing your head to rest on his shoulder. 

There are tingles erupting beneath his fingers that ignite your nerves. You've never been touched like this before.

"Better?" Not the voice of an angel, not the singing of the devil; it's something entirely different. Deeper, coarser, it's manly and rugged. 

The sound of it reminds you of a rustic cabin, lost in the woods with a fire burning in a stone pit. Everything, from the foundation to the wiring, was done by hand. 

It feels personal. 

Slackly, with barely any strength, you nod your head and raise a hand to swipe at your face. 

"...You...You still have it." 

It is obvious what he's referring to; that cold pendant abruptly feels warm at the mention of the necklace. You hadn't the heart to remove it or to throw it away. 

Doing so would be completely removing him from your life, even more than he already was. "Yeah..." You didn't want to tell him anymore. 

You can't tell him that sometimes you'd grip that necklace and pray that everything would revert back to the way it used to be. Or that you'd run your fingers on the engraving on the back, remembering when he was always there for you...always there until that event. 

Feeling him nod his head, his massive spiked wings part very carefully to let in the light. Zagan stands up to place your body in the spot he was just sitting in and strides over to a wall of lockers. 

The way he just manhandles you sends shivers across your stomach and farther down.

He undoes the lock and shuffles through a bag before turning to face your figure. You can't believe the man standing in front of you is Zagan. 

This is really the same nerd who had to look up at you; now you have to crane your neck even to meet his gaze. 

It's really been four years without even acknowledging one another.

"Here, It's obviously not going to fit, but it's better than nothing." Zagan murmurs as he steps closer to lay a set of clothes on your lap. 

That sweater...he still had that same dark red sweater that you bought him once at the mall. You said it went well with his eyes, made them as bright as stars. 

It most definitely doesn't fit him now, which means he's kept it even after he had finally developed. 

"I'm going to turn around to make sure no one comes in while you change." 

His speech breaks you from your thoughts. You peek upwards just as he folds his wings and trekks over to the locker room door. 

You feel more self-conscious now with Zagan's back turned than you did in front of the other students. The tips of your ears are burning along with your cheeks. 

It's almost like the clothes are made of glass the way you gently handle them and set them on the seat as you stand. Your body has long dried after the shower, yet you keep the towel over your shoulder as you shuffle on his attire. 

The sweater was soft, lined with cushiony fabric that felt nice against your skin. Without a bra or support system, you were lucky it was rather oversized and thick to obscure your chest. 

Next is the pair of black fleece sweatpants. You end up fitting it well; you're definitely sure that this was from when he was smaller. 

Luckily, there's a drawstring that you end up tying to tighten at your waist. 

"I'm done." You meant for your voice to be firm, but it's gravelly and coarse, as if you need to clear your throat. 

He tilts his head back to look, but he audibly sucks in a breath of air before flinging his head in another direction. One hand covers his mouth as the other holds onto the wall for support

Your brows crease tightly, and your fingers form into fists in the sleeves that are too long for you. "Is something wrong?"  

It took a short moment for him to clear his throat. He shook his head as if he were freeing himself from thoughts while extending a large, coarse hand outward. "Grab my hand, and I'll take you home." 

It's as though he steals the air right out of your lungs.   

After everything? After what you said to him, after dropping him...he's still caring for you. 

You want to hit him. If only he didn't accuse Javan of what he said, nothing would have changed. 

"I-I can go home on my own." You state, yet it only prompts him to click his tongue and step forward. 

He immediately dwarfs your smaller stature by his much larger one. The demon peers down with an unknown expression, one where you can't even tell what he's thinking. 

Those gorgeous wings of his softly flutter to gain your attention just as one corner of his succulent lips quirk upwards. "And miss the chance to fly?"

How right he was. 

As kids, you begged them to take you flying. One of them would hold you close and raise you to the sky so you could feel utterly weightless. 

Nothing mattered while you soared, not your f*cked up family, not your unrequited love, nothing at all but that freedom. 

You haven't felt it in four years because Javan was always too busy and Zagan...

"Fine." It whispers from your lips as you shift your gaze away. "Just home, please." 

His small, angled eyes squinted as if he knew what you were thinking while he nodded his head. "Let's go." He states and reaches for one of your hands. 

That warmth surrounds you again as he holds on tight and departs from the male locker room. It's empty within the common area; seems that everyone knew better to leave than to stick around and face the poster boy's wrath. 

It's sunny outside as you both exit through a side door. The sun is high, with a few fluffy white clouds clumped together. You were maneuvered into a new position, one where Zagan held your body in the bridal position again before taking off. 

Those massive wings of his are so powerful, so strong that he could probably outfly any fighter jet. He's arrived in the sky in the blink of an eye.

Wind is whipping around your baby hairs and striking against your face, yet you welcome the little stings. 

You're light, fluid, and weighed down by nothing in this moment. Zagan's flying through the clouds, allowing your fingers to feel the slight chill and moisture like before. 

It earned a laugh from your lips, a genuine one that hasn't graced your face in a long, long time. The demon's grip grew tighter at the sound of laughter and peeked down at your face. 

Your eyes met for a second, and his lips parted as though he desired to speak, but they shut upon arriving in your neighborhood. 

Not yet; you didn't want to go home just yet. 

"We could fly around a little longer." Your eyes fling upwards to meet his as he swallows. "If you want, that is." 

No, no, you don't want to go home at all. 

You feel an ache in your stomach, a burn in your eyes, and a pressure in your throat.

Doesn't he hate you at all? 

"Just...Just take me home, please." You spoke a lie, and god should have struck you down right then and there. 

How is it that you both look-feel so dejected?

The scarlet-eyed demon descends from his high place in the sky to your window on the second floor. You manage to crack it open before slipping inside and shifting around to face the dirty blond-haired man. 

He hovered in his spot, taking in the view of your bedroom after so long. All the pictures of him are gone; all the gifts he's given you are nowhere in sight. 

"I'll uh-" His tongue fiddles with the lip ring as he drops his gaze. "I'll get your bag from school and bring it over."

You want to tell him not to worry about it, but you do not trust your voice, so you merely nod your head. 

Zagan mimics your action and lightly taps the windowsill before flying away. Your puffy eyes follow and watch his figure until he's too far to be seen. 

Too far gone. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂ 

When Zagan returned from gathering your things from the school, he lightly tapped on your window to gain your attention. 

However, he received no response, none at all. The blinds were pulled together so that he couldn't see inside...nor feel your presence. 

The demon knocked again, a little louder this time, with again no response. He reacted without thinking, thrusting up the old window and nearly tearing off the blinds.

It was the same as he saw earlier: slightly messy, books splayed open, clothes folded but not put away, yet there was something different. 

On the bench by the window was the folded set of clothes he allowed you to wear...and a note on top. His fingers were shaky for some reason, filled with dread as if he were inches away from death. 

Flipping it open displayed just a few words with messy handwriting, like writing in a rush. 

《

I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore goodbye

》

The paper tore in his grasp while the pair of fangs in his mouth elongated and sharpened. Every muscle within his body tensed and constricted. 

F*ck, f*ck, f*ck! 

This can't be happening!

You can't be gone! 

He tried to control his breathing, attempting to calm himself just the slightest so he could figure out where the f*ck you had gone. 

But your scent is decamped with not a trace of or trail leading anywhere. Even your presence, the very feeling of your soul, is nowhere close. 

He can't feel it, he can't feel you. 

After years of saying it, knowing you so well, even after four years of disregarding each other, he knows you did it. 

You ran away. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

(Y/n) - Twenty-Two Years Old

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Continuing on in pt.2

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Short and dramatic, but it's better than nothing, right? This had been in the drafts for a long time, but I decided to break it up into 2 parts just to get it out. It also allows me to focus on the second act of the story. 

This is setting up for pt.2, where all the drama is going to unfold. The reader gets found and realizes the truth, more daddy Zagan screen time (he's gonna be in a gang hehe), and Javan is confronted. There's gonna be fistfights, tears, and a lot of sl*tty demon s*x. 

Psst, I'll let you in on a little secret. The Lamia household has lots of siblings, right? Well, certain demons have a little...hmm, how do I say this...have a breeding trait passed down through generations. Jahi has it, which explains the seven children, and well...Zagan's very much like his mother.

Which makes him a 'Breeding Bull'. So that's something to look forward to in pt.2 ;)

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

↳If you'd like to support me or read 30+ drafts of TDMLM or my other stories, please consider buying me Kofi. You can find the link on my profile! Thank you :) 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐚 signing out