Sideblog for fanfics

“-isn’t what they really want just conforming to their mold?”

You’re turning around. 

A faint smile on your lips. “Then what can we do about all the different molds?”

Nanami nods. “No one person is correct. It’ll never be good enough.” He lets out a soft sigh before pushing up his gold-rimmed glasses; they were a delicate kind that seemed to have a faint glow whenever they caught the light filtering in from Tokyo’s busy morning. Perfectly paired against Nanami’s handsome face—in the sort of classical, movie-star manner that might have caused him to be hung up on posters in teenage bedrooms or emblazoned outside of theatres.

Or so you’ve heard human customs tend to do so.

And yet, here Nanami Kento was: standing in a cream-colored suit with ink smudges on his fingertips. It often surprised you how a perfect Earthling like this was simply tucked-away in a little cubicle at Daily Planet Newspaper.

You certainly have never seen another like so.

But you got to see his face everyday—so you weren’t exactly complaining.

Nanami’s eyes drop at the growing smile on your face, and he pushes up a strand of golden-blond hair. That was just about as mussed-up as that perfectly slicked hairstyle of his would ever become. “Apologies. It’s just- it really bothers me to see the shit being written about Supergirl with no basis. Especially in respectable newspapers.”

“Well, it is the gossip column.”

“The sports section?”

“Same thing.” It was all human mish-mash to you either way. Beside him, the corner of Nanami’s lips give the faintest twitch. You’re flipping through the latest print of Daily Planet to another page; this time one with your (Supergirl’s) face plastered centrespread. Mid-air and your red cape flying behind you. It’s been only a few years since you’d landed on Earth after the destruction of Krypton. Then only a few weeks since you’d debuted as a superhero: stealing the spotlight from Green Lantern and the rest of the Justice League as you swooped in and defeated Metallo. 

Ever since then it’d been an explosion of newspaper headlines and television shows and even sketches; both good and bad. Mostly bad. You weren’t sure what got you off to the wrong foot. Maybe it was the uniform that too-closely resembled Superman’s? Maybe it was the crude words you’d spit out at villains mid-fight? Maybe it was that one time you flipped off the Justice League for being too late to the fight? 

In your defense, you thought Earthlings said something about early birds getting the villains?

And maybe all those were correct.

But whatever it was—they would tear you apart. Then piece you back. Then tear you apart again. You weren’t the family-friendly image of a superhero that most were; and it made something at the pit of your stomach feel saturated and dark and useless to have to edit such articles time and time again. To have to write them yourself, if you wanted to get approved by your higher-ups.

Perhaps that was a part of human culture?

Fuck those windbags either way.

You didn’t understand how any other hero did it - then again it wasn’t as if you could easily ask them. You weren’t an official part of the Justice League—and you didn’t see yourself getting welcomed with open arms anytime soon. So you hid yourself away and semi-hypnotized those at your workplace to see a forgettable face whenever they looked at you - not Supergirl—even so, it was brittle at best. 

Kryptonian hypnosis wasn’t as powerful as Martians. What you could merely do was suggest. “So- you don’t think Supergirl’s too crass?”

Nanami looks up, brows somewhat furrowed. “I quite frankly don’t think it matters. Who am I to judge?”

“Oh yeah? What about too destructive? Too disrespectful of the Justice League?”

“Again, who am I to judge?” Now, Nanami’s taking a seat—his desk was opposite yours, your backs to one another as you tap-tap-tapped away at new articles everyday. “Maybe she could do with a little less destruction of public infrastructure and that’s fine, but if she’s too crass then she’s too crass. That’s just her. Just as I’m not forced to like it—it’s silly to expect every superhero to conform to the ideal. Not one person nor mold is completely correct.”

From his seat, he tips his head up and looks at your standing self.

“But, personally, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Green Lantern in the first place.”

This time, it’s your turn to attempt to keep a too-big smile off your face. 

You give him a pointed look. “I dunno. I heard she steals candy from babies—says so on Page 9.”

“Ridiculous.” Nanami cocks his head and beckons for the newspaper from you; after you hand it to him he flips through to that very page and scans it. “And precisely without proof. This is why I’ve been investigating Supergirl, beyond what these pages or secret sources say—”

From where you were, you could hear Usami loudly bragging to his colleagues a few desks over about the ‘exclusive source’ that gave him that little tidbit of information. You wanted to roll your eyes again.

“-and I’ve been working on something.”

“What is it?” You lean over to look as Nanami unlocks one of his desk drawers and pulls out a thick file. Unmarked. Your heart leaps to your throat as he sweeps it open to reveal pages upon pages of…pictures of you.

Not you—

—but you as Supergirl.

You mid-flight amongst thunderclouds. You amongst rubble. You pushing a kid behind you in order to shield him from a villain. You with your face twisted in fury as you’re pummeling that very same villain with a ferociousness that scared most - even civilians.

Which explained the headlines.

You skulking off into an alleyway before the medics and police could arrive, as you always did.

You. You. You. You. You.

And around them were notes scribbled in Nanami’s own neat hand.

Hero analysis:

Best skills: Superhuman strength, superhuman speed (comparable to that of the Flash), heat vision, physiological control, martial arts (see more on…)

Costume is that of similar style of Superman however with the added adaptabilities of…(sketch on back)

—one of the strongest debuts of any superhero in history. The supervillain Metallo has been terrorizing—

—though at odd relations with the Justice League, it seems that clashes over justice enactment—

—train—

—the greatest—

Female. 20’s to 30’s. Features may be changeable with Kryptonian powers (follow up with…). Suspected resident in Tokyo—concentration of fights here; in close contact with the Justice League who has headquarters here in Tokyo. Furthermore, seems familiar with the alleyways for her ‘disappearing act’ (for more thorough analysis see more on…) and mapping (more on…) has revealed that Supergirl tends to head in the wider direction of—Kabukicho. 

(Follow up).

Your eyes widen.

Fuck.

You have to change up the bars you hit after fights.

And just when you think your heart can’t leap any higher; he flips through a few more pages and stops on one particular piece of evidence - the biggest of them all - a frontpage newspaper clipping of you…and him. Nanami all dust-covered and dishevelled, bleeding from a cut on his forehead, as you threw his arm over your shoulders and helped him out of Tokyo Downtown Bakery. You had your face twisted in fury, and Nanami…you never noticed it before, but Nanami was looking at you like you were the Sun.

The fight had happened just last week: you’d been heading home after work when your superhearing told you something was off. An explosion downtown. 

Tokyo Downtown Bakery was a favorite of gods, mutants, aliens, and other non-humans alike. Known for it, in fact. And there was only one villain you could think of that wanted to take down such non-humans—Kenjaku.

You’d zipped there as fast as your flight could take you, and only once you were there had you heard a familiar heartbeat. More frantic now, of course. But familiar.

Nanami was trapped underneath the rubble.

Kenjaku saw your momentary distraction - the realization that made your blood grow cold - and had taken the chance to disappear into the shadows. 

After making sure that every other customer and employee didn’t have to be flown to the hospital urgently, you dropped onto your knees in front of the mountain of rubble and dug and dug. And dug. And dug. You dug until you felt the control over your physiology slipping, and small cuts started to apply at your fingertips—healing over instantly. Then getting ripped open all over as you just kept- on- digging.

In reality it must have been less than five or ten minutes, but it felt like months, before you finally flung away the last block of debris from a soft body. And Nanami Kento stirred.

That was what had resulted in the photograph, and the headlines that followed.

SUPERGIRL A WEEK INTO SUPERHEROISM AND ALREADY LETTING VILLAINS ESCAPE?

SUPERGIRL PAUSES FIGHT FOR BREAK?! MORE LIKE LAZYGIRL (Exclusive)

SUPERGIRL SAVES THE DAY AGAIN—BUT WHAT ABOUT THE INFRASTRUCTURE?

SUPERGIRL SAVES RUBBLE-TRAPPED CIVILIANS: “I owe her my life.” 

That last one boasted the picture. And the byline of Nanami Kento. 

You try to control your breathing.

“Ever since she saved me, I’ve been trying to understand Supergirl better. That fury on her face…I’ve been trying to figure out who she is-”

“To…expose her?”

“No.” Nanami shakes his head. The both of you were breathless - though for very different reasons. Excitement practically makes him glow, “To maybe try and interview her- personally. I want to see what she’s like beyond all those cashgrab headlines and the rumors. And…” 

You’re silent as he pauses.

“-and I want to thank her personally.” So soft.

“Oh.” Your voice sounds small. Smaller than you’ve ever heard it. 

 He’s then closing his file and looking up at you so sweetly—“And if you’re interested, then maybe we could work together on it? I actually got a tip that I’m about to go do some field work on right now.” A sudden burst of shyness makes Nanami’s cheekbones burn a pretty rouge as you stare at him intensely. That was one thing you loved about humans - immense control over your physiology meant Kryptonians couldn’t blush unless you made yourselves. Humans couldn’t control when they blushed and it was just the sweetest thing to you. Was Nanami’s heartbeat picking up? “That is…if you would like to? I know you likely have better articles to work on, but just in case…”

He trails off and you’re trailing behind your head and your heart.

Your heart that wanted you to say yes.

Your head that made you say—

“I’m sorry.” You feel your heart fall. There’s a simmering of anger at yourself; soothed partially by the understanding that the more time you spent with Nanami…the higher the chance was of him finding out who you were. There were countless people out to get you: villains, henchmen, reporters. And the second-best thing to getting you was getting someone you cared for that knew you. About you. 

The only powerless humans that knew about you were Clark’s- Superman’s adoptive parents. 

And whatever misery that might put you in - you’d take it twofold if it meant keeping one more normal Earthling like Nanami safe. You’re taking a step back and giving him a sheepish smile. “It’s just I have this really ah- riveting story to write about the erm- tax refunds and the economic implications of Supergirl’s last fight and…”

“Oh!” Nanami nods fervently, pushing his glasses up. Embarrassment radiated off of him like a miniature Sun, and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and tell him this was on you. But alas. “Oh, right, of course- I wish you luck with that.”

“Thank you.” You smile, lips pressed together to prevent a sigh. “I’m going to need it.”

“A journalist like you? Not in the least.”

With a nod of graciousness, you’re just about to leave Nanami’s table and pretend that the latter half of this interaction perhaps never happened. You almost wished Kryptonians had the ability to hypnotize themselves as they could to others. And you’re considering a much more interesting article about that before you’re stopping in your tracks and half-glancing at Nanami over your shoulder. 

He was hard at work gathering his things for what you assume to be the extra field work regarding his Supergirl article.

You feel your heart clench.

“Nanami?”

He looks up eagerly. “Yes?”

Your words are slightly less than steady once you speak again. “If- when you discover Supergirl’s identity…you might be…disappointed. They say she’s nothing like Superman.”

“She doesn’t have to be.”

As Nanami throws his messenger bag over his shoulder and stands to leave—“I’ll see you tomorrow, my darling.” But he calls everyone that, doesn’t he?

“And I’ll…be working late.”

“Be careful not to miss your train.”

You don’t look at him until the very last second. When his tall frame is ducking beneath the doorway to the Daily Planet journalism department; cream-colored suit and golden glasses; old movie star looks drawing eyes, but not too close so he’ll never know that you stared at him from afar. Never.

You sink into your chair.

“What was that about?”

Had your superhuman senses not told you about Shoko’s nearing presence, you would have been startled. But you’re throwing in a slight jump just for the sake of it.

“Oh- come on.” Shoko says with a roguish grin. There was a slender cigarette tucked between her index and her middle finger; as was wont to have if one was Ieiri Shoko. You honestly don’t think you’ve ever seen her without one. “Not dramatic enough. Next time try throwing in a little gasp there.”

It seems that you still had work to do on your human reactions…“What have I told you about the cigarette smell getting on the papers?” You grimace at her - this particular human pleasure was especially sensitive to your nose.

“Can’t remember.” She replies, blowing out her last puff of smoke.

Shoko was perhaps your one exception to humans not knowing about your true identity—for the sole fact that she wasn’t your average human. Smooth. Silent. And stupidly intelligent - Shoko was perhaps the best investigative journalist Tokyo had to offer.

Which was to be expected, of course, given that she was the protégé of The Question.

A normal human journalist—just with enough combat skill and power to get him inducted into the Justice League. The Question had been a master in hand-to-hand combat even amongst the most trained superheroes; which paired well with the depth of investigative journalism that he would do. He exposed criminal underworlds that led to likely half the lodgers at Tokyo Island Penitentiary. 

When you’d been reading up on the superheroes of Earth - both current and inactive - it was his sheer heroism as a mere human that’d inspired you to become a journalist as well.

The Question had hand-picked Shoko as his successor—and for good reason. After his passing due to old age, Shoko quickly proved herself to be a master with the pen; she cracked her ink like a whip. Just last week, she’d exposed that damned Lex Luthor’s embezzling which at least got him out of Superman’s hair for some time. And despite the publicity of the event, the covert nature of her heroism meant she didn’t have to deal with the constant headlines.

Shoko was no different than those at the Justice League. Than you.

But she was an enigma.

So you couldn’t have asked for anyone better to have walked in on you hurriedly changing into your supersuit in the cramped cubicle bathrooms at the Daily Planet - there was a train about to go off-course a few thousand kilometers away - than Shoko.

“Oh.” You remember it like it was yesterday. The door had swung open as you had one foot into the suit. “The lock’s broken.” She’d said.

“Uh…occupied?” You’d murmured then, in a voice higher-pitched than usual. You considered hypnotizing her twofold- no wait, there was some power to do with amnesia even though you weren’t sure whether it would be—

“I know what you’re thinking.” Shoko had smiled then. “And don’t you dare try - not because I’d say anything, but because the Justice League’s paperwork is a pain in the ass when you try to fight another superhero.”

Your jaw had dropped. “Another…?” You’d shove that paperwork up their asses- but another superhero?

“Haven’t guessed it already?” Shoko shoved a hand into her long jacket, pulling out a square piece of what almost looked like rubber. It was in the exact shade as her skin tone, and when she placed it over her face—

“Featureless.” You’d gasped. Pseudoderm. “Just like The Question.”

“Flattered you know us, Supergirl.”

But there was no more time for chit-chat—that train you’d been hearing was dangerously close to going off-tracks now, and you’d hastily begun stuffing yourself into your supersuit. To which Shoko hadn’t flinched - instead appraising you curiously. “Why don’t you just wear that underneath your suit?”

“Because…” Because you were too afraid of someone sneaking a peak at the suit underneath. Because you were too afraid of being Supergirl when you were your ‘human’ self—hated. At least as a human you weren’t hated. Because you were too afraid of walking around as two halves making up one whole, when one half was all you needed at a time to feel content.

Ultimately you settled for not saying anything at all. “Listen- please don’t-”

“Yeah, yeah- I’ve already been through this song and dance.” She waved you off absent-mindedly. “Don’t reveal your secret identity to anyone. Don’t make it obvious when you’re off saving the world.”

You felt a smile come to your face at those last few words.

“You don’t think I’m…ruining justice instead?” A rush of embarrassment ran through you for even asking.

But Shoko merely cocked her silky head. “Hah, no? And who cares what the Justice League thinks? Now go do superhero things, superhero.”

The train and its passengers were saved in record time that day. And just like she’d said, Shoko hadn’t spilled a word.

Though for all the secrets she kept- she did love hearing them.

“So…” She relights her cigarette. “Did Nanami finally ask you out and you rejected him?”

“What-” You’re turning to her with a yelp. “He did not—” She takes the moment to blow a cloud of smoke at your papers, and you’re snatching the cigarette from between her lips and snuffing it out on one of your ceramic desk decorations. 

“Hey…” Shoko whines.

Finally you’re whispering to her in a low tone - “He did not ask me out. And I did not reject him.”

“Then why’d he leave all sad and puppy-eyed?”

You’re turning around—almost as if expecting Nanami there still. “He didn’t…did he?”

“Maybe. I didn’t see. But you looked, didn’t you?” Chuckling. The Question takes the cigarette back from you, and holds it out of your reach.

“That was only because you-” You find that you don’t quite have much to say - at least not something that Shoko would pay heed to. And so you’re settling for a few grumbled curses—“No. He just asked me to be part of one of his articles.”

Shoko looks up in interest. “Oh? About what?”

“Supergirl.” You cross your arms. “He said he wanted to figure out who she was so he could interview her- I said no, of course.”

Shoko - who’d now newly relit her cigarette - takes a long drag and lets it free into the air. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why’d you say no?”

You take her cigarette and put it out again. “Because the more time I spend with him, the more likely he is to…find out. And with everything going on, I can’t risk putting him in danger.”

“Hm…” Shoko thinks for some time. “Putting him in danger? Or putting his image of you in danger?” She stares at you intently. “Are you really afraid that he’s going to be captured by villains you’ve been defeating time and time again these past few weeks? Maybe.” Then she’s gently tugging the cigarette from between your fingertips - to light it again. A final time. “Or are you more afraid that once he finds out who you truly are- he’s going to be just like the rest of them?”

You don’t bother reaching for the cigarette anymore. “I…”

But Shoko wasn’t done just yet. She blows her smoke into the air and lets it linger. “It’s just like these papers and this smoke. When the nicotine sticks to them, it’s invisible but it’s there—even if you don’t like it. But that doesn’t change its contents. Nor does that make it any less worthy than any other article here.”

You crinkle your nose. “But others won’t like it either.”

“So fuck them.” She stands. “It’s gonna be printed into a damn article, it doesn’t need to smell like rainbows and roses. No two newspapers are printed the same.”

And with that said, Shoko striding off. Cigarette and all.

And you’re left staring at a blank paper—ready for typing.

.

.

.

Nanami Kento had never quite been to this area of Tokyo.

It was one of the seedier places; an amalgamation of everything your mother advises you against. Past the bars and the spas, past the graffiti-tattooed walls and the alleyways that seemed to stretch into darkness endlessly. Past men slouched on roads - drunk or dead. Past the rattle of trains in the distance and rats who chittered at the only abode they truly ruled. Where even those cowered standing next to—and one goes to share the same fear doused upon this neighborhood, doled, perhaps to replace that of their own.

Then again, there was a strange beauty in it itself - like a giant wound mending itself.

There was a stun gun in his pocket. He wondered what this place would look like in daylight. 

He ignored the knot in his throat as he kept on walking.

It wasn’t the place you’d expect to find a superhero - then again, Supergirl didn’t listen to anyone’s expectations of her. 

Often after fights, he’d see you disappearing into the shadows of a building or a lone alleyway such as these. As if never there. You didn’t wait around for any authorities or paparazzi. And it was only after weeks of investigation that he’d managed to narrow it down to one district that you were frequenting: Kabukicho. 

Even afterwards, he’d quickly learned that it wasn’t simply the entertainment district that you were fond of.

You were fond of hiding.

Asking around for sightings of a person of your description took Nanami meters away from actual Kabukicho, and down narrow alleys and underground streets. Into clubs and behind hotels. Into the seediest, smallest establishments hadn’t even the faintest waft of a main street. Currently he was heading towards a bar he was directed towards by an anonymous tip; the tip had said that you came here at least once a week or so. Sometimes not even to drink - just to people-watch.

And if Nanami Kento knew anything about you: it was that you found humans fascinating.

He’d seen it after fights, when you’d watch families rush to one another and embrace. He’d seen it even during fights, as you analyzed villains that were easy prey.

And he wondered…did you find humans interesting as much as they found you? Or at least, he did. 

It’s after a few minutes of walking down this small street, lit only by the angry neon signs of underground clubs, that he stops before a squat bat. THE CHAMELEON—the sign said.

He pats the stun gun in his pocket. 

And with a deep breath, he’s walking in.

The stench of liquor dances a frenzied waltz with cigarettes; it reaches his nose though he doesn’t cringe as he weaves between closely-pressed tables. Patrons hunched over nursing their columns of glasses look up at him suspiciously as he walks past them. He knew he should have changed out of his cream-colored suit. 

It was barely visible in the bar, due to the faint light buzzing solely from a few spots on the ceiling, surrounded by wine-drunk flies, but Nanami managed to sit himself down at the counter. A bartender with long greyish-blue hair wiping greasy glasses with an even greasier rag looks up at him.

“Ah…” Nanami’s eyes fall to the glass and the rag - he himself was a good drinker, though the establishments he frequented were nothing of this sort. “Just a beer, please.”

The bartender asks, “Mmm, tap?”

“Do you have bottles-”

“No bottles.”

“Then ah- just a water, please.”

“No water either.” He says in a strangely melodic voice, “Just cider. Just cider. Apple, peach, and pear~!”

Nanami looks at the man warily, “Then…a peach cider please.”

The bartender shrugs then takes the rag—blowing his nose into it- before he throws it somewhere over his shoulder and fetches a peach cider for Nanami. It pools condensation onto the counter as it’s set in front of him, but he doesn’t reach for it even a single millimeter.

“What are you trying to find, young man?”

Nanami almost flinches. 

The voice comes from the seat next to him; gruff and gravelly like when one has smoked far too many cigarettes for far too long. As he turns—the man next to him laughs. He had a white, wide-rimmed hat tipped low over his face, and was wearing an equally stark white suit. It was just about the only things he could make of him - nothing of his actual features.

And though Nanami didn’t know the man, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of kinship as the two patrons of the bar that didn’t seem like they belonged there.

Despite this, however, this other man’s fingers found a chip in his cider glass with familiarity. 

“There are only two reasons that folks come down to a bar like this: either to lose something—pain, memories, fatigue; or to find something.” He nods his head over at the younger man, but still doesn’t reveal a sliver of a face. “And since you haven’t touched that cider of yours, young man, I’m assuming…”

“Finding something, I suppose.” Almost robotic, Nanami grasps his glass. 

He thinks he sees a flash of a smile from the other man.

Nanami continues, “Maybe you can help me? Would you happen to have seen someone come in tonight-” His heart thunders as he lists off the features written down in that file of his—and the man keeps nodding with each one. “-perhaps around my age, though-”

“So it’s love problems.”

He stops short. “What?”

“Love problems.” That man clucks out a wet laugh, then takes a swig of his cider.

Nanami responds hesitantly. “I’m…afraid you misunderstand. I’m just trying to find-”

“I know perfectly what you mean.” He displays a set of paper-white teeth, gleaming. Reaching into his coat pocket, he slaps something down on the marble counter. “Her, right?”

Nanami peers in and finds it to be a blurry polaroid of you at this very bar, taken like you hadn’t known it was happening. And you weren’t revelling like one would have expected you to after a constant winning streak against villains. You weren’t even lamenting your woes with your fellow bar patrons.

You were just…watching. 

Alone at a booth. Nothing in front of you but a water- perhaps that bartender had lied to him. 

It was a night livelier than this one, evidently, as bachelor celebrations and 21st birthday parties and seemingly drunken singing surrounded you from all angles. But you simply watched. Waited. There was something so sorrowfully beautiful about you that it made Nanami’s heart ache. 

“It’d been my buddy’s divorce party and someone had pulled out the polaroid. He snapped a picture and somehow I just couldn’t find it in myself to part with it…there’s something so haunting about it.”

Nanami merely stares speechlessly, running his finger down the edge of the picture.

“Trying to understand someone is, too, an act of love isn’t it?” The other man says. Before Nanami could respond, he’s polishing off the last few drops of his cider and getting off the chair—he seemed much taller when he was standing. “Come now. This Supergirl of yours is quite the party- after draining The Chameleon she tends to head East towards the Golden Gai. Finish up your cider and then we can go.”

“R-right.” Nanami’s hand almost falls to pat his stun gun reassuringly- but under the man’s scrutiny he reaches for the cider instead. “And sorry- what was your name again Mr…?”

“Come now, come now. We can save the pleasantries for when we walk there, young man.”

“Right.” 

Bringing it up to his lips. 

Almost. “But how did you know I was searching for Super-”

He sighs. “You journalists ask too many questions.”

And with a forceful shove, he’s making Nanami chug down the cider - blood and peaches coating his tongue. And the sharp shot of something else he couldn’t place. 

“And you can call me Kenjaku, young man.”

And then it’s black.

“I saw the way Supergirl—” Spit. “—looked at you. And I must thank you for leading her to me.”

Kilometers away, you’re in the middle of heading to the train station with Shoko. You’d both gotten off work late and were lamenting what a pain it’d be to get up tomorrow morning—

Your head snaps up.

You’re immediately looking behind you.

“What is it?” Shoko asks with no small sense of emergency.

That gasp. That thud. 

You’ve never heard it; yet you’d recognize it anywhere.

“Something bad has happened.”

.

.

.

Alleyways. Bar. Rats. Love Hotel. Alleyways. Bar. Bar. Alleyways. Alleyways. Alleyways.

Why did you have to go down so many alleyways?

It was a bar that you’d only been to once; the shadows were long and the cider was sweet—but ultimately you’d decided that you didn’t want to return. It was the day after you’d saved Nanami Kento. 

And now you were doing the very same thing.

THE CHAMALEON had wound down for the night by the time that you skidded to a halt before it - with the tar road cratering beneath you as you stopped. There’s a thundering noise that echoes down the gloomy streets of this forgotten part of Kabukicho. You don’t waste a single second longer before kicking the door open and storming inside—

“Ah~ my lovely Supergirl.”

“Kenjaku.” You spit. The bar was empty save for the man seated at the counter - a dark waterfall of hair, darker eyes - and in his hand he held a single glass of what you assumed to be cider. “Where is he-”

“Slow down, my dear.” He croons. “Why don’t you sit back? Have a drink or two? And then maybe we can-”

“Where the fuck is he.”

It happens instantaneously—in a jerky movement you’re picking up an entire table by its leg. Using a mere fraction of your strength, you chuck it at the man - not quite to hit just yet - and it flies past him with naught a hair’s breadth of space between the side of his head and the table. Crashing against the wall of alcohol bottles in the back; liquor and shards of glass explode behind Kenjaku, yet he doesn’t move a single muscle. Not a single muscle.

Not even his lips to speak. 

It infuriates you that he can remain sitting and sipping his cider without a care in the world- and so you’re striding towards him. Though striding was perhaps a kinder word.

Grabbing a bottle off the counter, he breaks its end and attempts to stab you.

You dodge.

He stabs.

You dodge.

He swipes your cheek—

“Motherfucker you better know that I don’t care what you do to me-” Each word leaves you like a dagger. “I don’t care how you hurt me-” And within a few seconds, you’ve closed the gap completely to grip him by the collar and raise Kenjaku a foot off his chair. “But what the fuck have these innocent people ever done to you?”

Suddenly, his eyes go wide and he starts laughing.

And you’re only watching in stunned silence.

You only can watch—Kenjaku laughs long and unabashed, with a strange hitch like a crow’s call - he laughs so hard that he has to wipe away a tear. It sends red-hot fury curdling in your veins.

You reel your fist back.

Tightly-coiled. Trembling with anger.

And you’re just about to swing—

When Kenjaku raises a single finger - the gesture humans often do when asking for a moment of your time - that makes you halt in your tracks. Whatever tricks he had up his sleeve, you didn’t want to risk anything that might put Nanami in danger.

And so you wait.

And you watch.

As Kenjaku’s eyes fall to the glass of cider that had been kept on the counter. He takes it in his hand. He clears his throat, “You should have been here earlier, oh- your little boyfriend was just drinking away his woes. Something about his love being a filthy alien, you see?” Those deep amethyst eyes—they were so dark that they seemed to leave a stain where they then turned to look at you.

You can’t take your eyes off of him - even as you bring your raised punch back and instead grasp Kenjaku’s neck with both hands. If you can’t pummel him to death, you were ready to strangle him.

Your hands tighten.

“O-oh.” Kenjaku’s hands claw down your forearms, but he’s powerless against you. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

They tighten.

“And you already know it’s true, don’t you? You know that deep down—you’re everything they say you are- you’re everything and worse-” They tighten. His skin starts turning blue then purple. “Why else would they hate you so? They know- they know it and you do, too.”

They tighten.

And even though you had the upperhand, seemingly, Kenjaku seems to crane his head down to whisper to you.

“You were nothing. You are nothing. You will always and forevermore be nothing.”

Your breath hitches- and Kenjaku knows he’s got you.

Unbidden from your senses, you’re letting go of him - he stumbles to the ground but manages to catch himself on the bar counter. Throwing an arm over it to steady himself, Kenjaku looks down at his cider glass once more, with only a few drops at the bottom of it.

He throws back those last few ounces and holds the glass out to you- “Be a dear for me, and help your little boyfriend get me another glass, will you? It seems he’s gotten his…hands full.”

Shit.

Shit.

You’re forgetting to even fly down to the bar—you’re breaking off a leg of a nearby stool then bending the metal into something that resembles a handcuff, quickly restraining Kenjaku for the time being before darting downstairs. There was a dingy staircase in the corner of the room, of which the rusty handrailing bends and warps as you grip it with your superhuman strength.

As you do, Kenjaku calls after you…“But do be careful not to miss your train~!”

It doesn’t take long before you find yourself at the bottom of a damp cellar- running to a Nanami Kento who’d been hopelessly bound and gagged. His golden hair falls in front of his face. His skin glistens with sweat.

And as soon as you reach him, you’re noticing the sheer heat that radiates off of him.

It was as if he was on fire—

Was this…?

“Nanami- Kento.” You’re hissing - you don’t need to untie those cloth restraints, you’re tearing straight through them. Removing the fabric gag and cupping his face, you look deep into his eyes. “Kento- oh, are you alright? Speak to me-”

“Go.”

“What-”

“The train.” Tears fell down his handsome cheeks. His bottom lip was trembling as though he was cold - even though he felt like an inferno to the touch. “My darling, don’t worry about me worry about the train-”

You insist. “What about the train, Kento?”

“Kenjaku- fuck, I overheard him telling his henchmen to destruct the Yurikamome line on the Rainbow Bridge- the train is going to go over it any second now—”

Brows furrowing, you focus your supersenses. Hearing. “But that can’t be, I should hear…”

The zooming of a train. The distant rattling of train tracks that sounded different than usual - too different, too distant. 

Then it hits you.

“Kento, while you were here, did you encounter anything…strange?”

He strangles out. “The peach cider he gave me- a-after that I just…”

“I understand.” Your mind was racing a mile a minute—Kento. The train. Kento. The train. Kento. “Kenjaku probably laced it with something to weaken you, and amongst that he must have added…”

Your blood goes cold.

“Hold on tight.” And without another word, you’re scooping the man into your arms - a princess carry. You hold him to you like the most precious thing on Earth and Krypton as you crash! through the top of the cellar—past several stories without a single scratch nor ache. Past bottles of liquor and ceramic tiles. Past layers of concrete and your fear.

Once you’re out into the wild night, you’re taking in incredible lungfuls of crisp air, soothing the burning sensation in your lungs.

You could almost ignore the gasps around you- as people whip out their cameras. This time, you don’t shy from them.

Gently; you’re hovering down to the street below and setting Nanami down. “Are you okay, Kento?”

“Yes- yes.” He’s gasping as he struggles to stand- you’re attempting to help him, only for Nanami to back away as though afraid. Something painful twinges inside you.

And he must see the breaking of your expression - because he’s immediately rushing to answer. “The thing that was in that cider…it was Kryptonite, wasn’t it?” Your silence is enough of an answer. “You have to go.”

You step towards him. “We have to get you to a hospital. The Kryptonite-”

“The train-”

“Just let me-”

“The Kryptonite will poison you before it ever even thinks of poisoning me. Do you really think I’d ever- fucking ever put my life above yours?” Nanami Kento doesn’t exactly yell—but his voice carries to your superhuman senses above anything else. Anything else. “Save the people on the train. Save the world. Save yourself- for everything I love, please please leave me- save them, Supergirl.”

You’re straightening.

“I’ll be back for you, Kento.”

Stumbling back a few steps; you have to shake your head to do away with the fogginess of the Kryptonite.

And then you’re in the air once more.

Wind whipping your face. Cape thrashing behind you.

The clouds stick to your features and form condensation with how fast you’re flying to the train- fuck.

Once you get there, you’re seeing exactly what Nanami had been talking about.

The train track where the Yurikamome Line was going on top of - the lower deck of Rainbow Bridge - was completely obliterated in the middle. Throngs of metal sticking upwards. Train track rattling like a wounded snake. The train was charging full speed ahead, the driverless transit unaware of any anomaly in the track. 

Just enough of a gap that it would prove fatal to the 160,000 passengers aboard. 

Just enough of a gap that you could zip down—as fast as you could go. As low as you could afford. And as fearful as any human would have been in that moment - and just as foolhardy. 

And as the Yurikamome Line heads towards the broken railroad, you’re lifting the train once it passes. The dip in the train track; you’re making up for it with your hands and your shoulders—never letting the Line falter even a single decree—it stretches and stretches and sinks its heavy metal body down onto yours. Rolling over your shoulders. Like nothing you’ve ever felt before- you have to keep your shoulders up. You have to keep your shoulders up. You have to keep your shoulders up. 

Your body was indestructible. But you’re feeling cuts on your palms. But you’re feeling the strain on your core and your deltoids.

Every single axiom in your body was screaming—

Towards the middle mark of the Yurikamome Line, you feel a dip- fuck.

Gritting your teeth, you let out a clenched groan as you push the train up. From inside you can hear passengers scream. And from the horizon, you can hear news helicopters thundering.

Please.

A tear runs down your cheek. You struggle to move. 

Please. Please. Please.

You’re pushing the train upwards with all your might. 

Humanity above, only you know how strong you can be. 

Be strong.

.

.

.

Birds are twittering.

You would have assumed that the afterlife had no shortage of birds, too; but it’s a bit odd to you that they’re singing a tune so jolly.

Personally, since you were dead, you’d like to sing something more lamentable.

“My darling?”

It’s so quiet that you almost don’t hear it - but of course, you do. You’re Supergirl—and you hear everything everyone says to you whether you want to or not. But this one in particular sounds quite pretty in your ears - even prettier than the spring melodies of birds - and it makes you realize ah- angels…

But at the same time you’re realizing that angels didn’t exist on Krypton.

And then you’re shooting awake.

“Fucking fuck!”

Your graceful resurrection is marked by knocking your head with none other than Nanami Kento - whom you found quite understandable to mistake for an angel. As you’re clutching your forehead and letting out a few swears, he lets out nothing but the sweetest, soft chuckle—and as your vision slowly grows used to the light and unblurs, you’re seeing the most beautiful smile on his face. 

His eyes crinkled at the edges, framed by golden glasses. His cheeks had one faint dimple each. And he was looking at you with something humans had never looked at you with - love.

It couldn’t…

Was that your heart thundering or his?

“You don’t know how happy I am that you’re awake.” Nanami whispers, as if afraid to break this fragile piece. This suspension in a place that didn’t quite seem to be Earth nor Krypton. He presses his forehead to yours—“I wanted to thank you first, my darling.”

“Thank me…for what?” You ask- your voice is incredibly hoarse. How long have you been out for? 

Once you clutch your throat, Nanami hastens to pluck a glass of water off the bedside cabinet. And as you drink- you’re looking around the room. The next time you speak, it’s with a slightly steadier tone. “And where are we?”

“Ah- I guess I should apologize first.” Nanami says, sheepishly rubbing the blushing back of his neck. “We’re at my apartment. You’ve been asleep for about sixteen hours now.”

Your lips part.

He hurries to explain. “Chief Yaga from the police station wanted to keep you under their protection at the hospital, the Justice League insisted on keeping you at one of their quarters- your fan club wanted you all to themselves but…I…insisted you wake up in a place that’s somewhat of a home.” Eyes darting shyly downwards. “Just until you wake up- I asked Shoko and she wasn’t sure where you lived, either. You’re a very private person, Supergirl. And Superman is in outer space right now so…”

“Oh…I…I see.” You hold the glass limply in your hand. “And ah- fan club, you said?”

Nanami nods - you don’t see any humor in his eyes. “Your rescue of the train was shown on every channel and program- every breaking news. The Daily Planet won’t stop printing, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That…” You feel strangely numb. “I don’t even know what to say. And the casualties-”

“Zero.”

“How did you get to the hospital?”

“Just after you left, Shoko arrived with the police to save me and arrest Kenjaku. Did you know that she’s a vigilante?”

You bite back a smile. “I did.”

He unabashedly smiles, as if meeting you for the first time. “And did you know that I know?”

“I figured by now.” Cocking your head.

“I always had a suspicion but…I don’t know what hypnosis you did but it just wouldn’t make sense in my mind. But when you came down to save me at the cellar, when you were affected by that Kryptonite it just…clicked.”

He’s reaching a hand up to softly cup your right cheek.

“It wouldn’t have made sense to be anyone else.”

It’s warm in Nanami’s bedroom. And it’s even warmer underneath the thin nightdress you’re wearing- you wonder where he got such a thing? And when you’d been put into it? It seems that he catches the questions in your gaze as it dawns upon you what you’re wearing—“I bought it for you after you got discharged at the hospital.” Nanami says. “Shoko helped you into it- althought…I did help.” With a shy blush, he’s looking away.

And you’re closing your eyes and leaning into the touch of his hand. “Thank you.” 

You don’t need to specify for what.

“And then there’s that.” Nanami surprises you as he says, reinvigorated. And how completely correct you were in him having those old movie star looks - that smile of his, with the soft little dimple on each cheek, should be on the big screen. He has a knowing glint in his eyes. “Thank you for saving me- that time at the bakery.”

You feel a little breathless. “It’s no problem.”

“No but it was- it’s how Kenjaku managed to escape. And I know how much you got torn apart in the papers for it—” His jaw clenches. “I saw it everyday.”

You look down at your hands, clasped on top of Nanami’s sweet cream-white sheets. “It’s nothing.”

And slowly - but surely - at a pace that matches the hesitant staccato of your heartbeat, Nanami’s own larger, roughened hands are sliding across the sheets. Intertwining with yours. “It’s not.” 

Your gaze was now flickering between your tangled hands and his unyielding gaze—you didn’t know which was more beautiful.

He continues, “And I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. I know you don’t feel as if you’ve done enough to be thanked, but I can assure you- w-well, I don’t know how much my word will mean to you if anything at all, but just-”

“Kento.” You cut him off. “Kiss me.”

His lips meet yours and you never wish for them to leave; he tastes like coffee with a hint of honey and everything you’ve ever wanted. You feel as though you can finally breathe.

And he feels as though he can’t—and he’s searching for his first breath between your lips. Nanami gasps as you clutch his baby-blue button-up. 

Nanami’s hand caresses the back of your neck, and he’s cockin’ your head to the side so he can deepen the kiss. Eventually you’re feeling that initial sweetness of first contact melt into somthing…more…something that makes your skin simmer, as he’s letting his pinkish tongue brush your lower lip.

With a gasp you’re welcoming him inside.

And before you know it, you’re being laid flat on your back with Nanami hovering on top of you. With a tap at his broad shoulders, you signal him to get up—and when Nanami’s on his knees before you you’re letting your hands…wander.

“O-oh.” His breath hitches. His Adam’s apple bobs. And a sizzling heat takes over the man’s body as your fingers trace the line of this throat- the valley of his pecs- the bumps of his abs. 

All your knowledge of human anatomy led you to believe that he must be hiding immense strength beneath suits too-big for him, but even this was a surprise.

And then lower, lower, lower—until you’re reaching his rock-hard erection. 

“Shit…” The soft grunt escapes the back of Nanami’s throat—unbidden. He immediately brings one roughened hand up to his mouth, chewin’ on the insides of his cheek as he watches your workings down below. Watches through half-lidded eyes as your palm’s meeting the bulge of his perfectly plaid pants. Cupping. Caressing.

Nanami’s breath grows more n’ more ragged as you keep palming- fuck, he was so big.

You don’t even have to use your x-ray vision to figure that out - but you’re doing so anyway. And what you’re seeing are about seven- eight? Inches of his swollen cock, all throbbing and pulsating underneath your touch. And beads—no, puddles of precum were constantly tearing out from the top of his shaft, creating a mess underneath that made Nanami feel shy.

You swear he’s growing even bigger once he feels the staring.

“A-are you using your…?” Nanami asks, pushing his thick glasses up.

“Mmm, maybe.” You’re cheekily replying. And in mere split-seconds you’ve used your heat vision to incinerate Nanami’s fabrics without actually hurting him.

He gasps and instinctively goes up to cover his aching erection-

But you’re stopping him with a hand of your own. Those fingers of yours wrapping around Nanami’s pale pink cock—he’s oh-so-thick at the base of it, surrounded by a scattering of golden tresses that graze the bottom of your hand.

You’re squeezing the hilt of Nanami’s shaft and he lets his head drop backwards with a moan- “Fuh-fuck. I could cum right here and right now, you know….”

“So do it.” You’re tugging his cock- until you’re reaching the mushroomy top of it and wipin’ away a speckle of precum. It feels so warm underneath your touch—he was just melting for you. “But just know that this is going to be a looooong night, Nanami Kento.”

He gulps.

Meanwhilst you’re pressing your lips to Nanami’s while you keep a constant pace fisting his length. Breaking off from the heated kiss only to lean down and spit-

A direct glob of your saliva gluing to Nanami’s puckered tip.

He’s shivering as it gleamingly trickles down his length—then reeling you into a kiss once more. “Mmm- I can hear your heartbeat, Kento.” You smile into the kiss. “Any reason why it increases when you’re around me?”

“I’m in love with you and I cannot lie about it.” And you don’t know what you expected - banter? Denial? But it certainly wasn’t outright confession, and it certainly wasn’t for Nanami to pant against your lips—to push you back onto the coiled mattress, and shuffle his body down until he’s between your legs. 

With languid movements, he’s pressing your legs to the side until each one is pinned to the soft cotton sheets. And you let him.

Your peripherals locked with his. Nanami’s gold-rimmed glasses tracing your skin. You’re running a hand through Nanami’s blond mane as he presses a line of kisses up your right thigh, up your left thigh, before finally…“May I?”

“Please.”

The next sound escaping you is a deafening trill—as in that very moment Nanami pushes his face nose-deep between those legs. And his tongue’s darting outwards and swabbin’ up - eating you out as though he was starving.

Almost wolfish.

Mouth gaped wide open. Honed canines stickin’ against the opened sides of your folds. 

Your eyes dart to the back of your head- as you’re feeling the dots of his tastebuds push through your nightgown. He was eating you out through your nightgown—

“Kento, take a breather.” You’re whispering down at him, peeping at the ravenous man through struggling lids. The pleasure was consuming every inch of you rapidly; and before long you snake a hand to lift up the nightgown. “Let me just take this off-”

“No.” Nanami’s warm hand comes gripping yours - with surprising strength for a human. “Please- please keep it on.” He struggles.

To even speak.

To even keep his breathing even.

To even unlatch himself from your pussy for the mere moments he has to speak- he didn’t want to waste a single second. And it’s with carnal ferocity that he’s stuffin’ himself back between your legs, flattening his tongue and pressing it against your hot folds. “A-at this point, it might just be the only thing keeping me sane, my darling…if I feel you in all your entirety then I might just-” Nanami’s voice cracks. “-break.”

“What do you mean, Kento…?” You’re breathing. 

There was something…off about the handsome man. Sure, it could’ve just been the heated proximity that was warping your perception of him; but—

But that couldn’t explain the nearly-frenzied pace of his heartbeat - 112 BPM to be exact - or the furious red flush creeping down his neck, or the way he was plastered in a cold sweat. Golden tresses gluing to his forehead and the forefront of your pelvis. One of those beads of perspiration runs down his attractive nosebridge n’ ends up positioning where he was pushing and pushing his sensual face into your puffy folds. Cheeks hollowing as he’s sucklin’ on them through the barely-there barrier of your nightgown.

And you’re swiping your thumb across it - feeling the slightly-sticker consistency of his sweat. 

More so than normal.

And somehow…sweeter?

It doesn’t take your heightened senses to realize—you start to tug on Nanami’s sweaty scalp- but he’s hesitant to remove himself. Merely parting an inch or so with the most agonized groan. “Kento- Kento, don’t you feel a little different right now?”

“Hmmmgh?” He asks with his bleary eyes struggling to focus on you.

“A little different? Maybe a little…warmer?” You watch as he has to think a little bit before nodding. “Don’t you feel like you’re going to- hah, shatter on my pussy?”

“I do.” Nanami spits a glob of spittle down on your cunt, kissing it away before it trickles. “Fuck, I do.”

“Mmm—” Your back arches as his tongue straightens then starts dragging up and down your sopping slit languidly. “And aren’t you wondering h-how exactly I know?”

“How do you know, my darling…?” Sounding barely awake as he questions so.

“It’s because…” And then you’re sitting up and starin’ down at his movie-star face, eyes half-lidded and his blond hair a mess. A few strands of it were falling in front of his gorgeous eyes—so you’re pushing them away with your hand- and Nanami shivers as though just splashed with cold water. “-I’m feeling the same way.” A shiver runs down Nanami’s spine. “That aphrodisiac seems to be contagious.”

“A-aphrodisiac?” Nanami’s eyes widen behind his spectacles.

And you’re giving him a soothing nod. “Mhm. Back at the bar, it seems that what Kenjaku spiked you with was a Kryptonite solution. But what he hadn’t accounted for was the fact that sometimes…Kryptonite can have a bit of an…aphrodisical effect on humans.”

You’re leaning down and kissing his pussy-drenched lips. “Mmm, yeah, I can taste it on you still.”

Nanami’s immediately lurching back- but this time, it’s your turn to be reeling him back in. 

Keeping him delightfully hostage between your legs. “And where do you think you’re going, Earthling?”

“But the Kryptonite-” Nanami pants. Even though his eyes kept constantly flickering down to your cunt as if his favorite baked good set out right in front of him. Syrupy-filled. “It can’t be good for you-”

“At the weakened state it’s in now, it’s not bad for me either.” You smile. “The aphrodisiac shouldn’t impair you, either. But if you do not wish to fully continue-”

“I do.” The words can’t leave Nanami’s lips faster. He’s shoving your legs further apart and whispering. “I do I do I do—”

Then pressing such a harsh open-mouthed kiss against your swollen folds - so hard that it honestly felt as though he was trying to permanently imprint its outline against your pussy. And then when he’s pressed hard enough and long enough and deeeep enough—Nanami jerks away with a wrangled moan.

“But then since I’m already broken…”

And in robotic movements- he pushes your nightgown up until your tits- and he’s plastering his hot lips aaaaall over your cunt. Tongue swiping urgently between your folds and fuckin’ inside like a damn animal.

“Shit—” Moans bubble to your throat- seeping out with bubbles of spit. You’re clawing through his sweaty locks, holding onto him for dear life. “Shit, shit, shit- I didn’t expect humans to be so…”

“S’this your first time on Earth?” He peeks up at you through his long lashes.

“It is.” You’re nodding. Biting onto your lower lip.

And something seems to shift behind Nanami’s darkened eyes; he fixates them on you and doesn’t waver a single second as he lets his tongue fully out. Lavishes the tender in-betweens of your pussylips with all his sensual kisses- “Then I better give you a proper welcome to Earth.”

And it’s with absolutely no warning that he’s increasing the speed of his thrusts.

Flarin’ that sopping wet muscle out so that it stretches out your first ring of muscle- you can feel the sides of Nanami’s tongue slide-slide-sliding all down your channel. He was just so thick- you were feeling him so perfectly like this- and you can’t help yourself…you’re activating your x-ray vision to see how deep Nanami’s really going.

“A-a bit more to the left, Kento…” You murmur. “And a little deeper- ngh.”

He looks up at you in slight surprise. “Oh? You can see where I’m going, my darling?” Experimentally, Nanami stabs a few more thorough probes- deep.

“X-ray vision, remember?” You gasp. Buckin’ up in a sloppy staccato every time Nanami’s nearing with his tongue and his prominent nose- fuck, you loved how the tip of his nose pressed into your clit every time he surged forwards. “Just a bit deeper- oh, your fingers?”

With two of his calloused fingertips slidin’ up and down your vertical slit - accumulating the dewy droplets of slick you were letting out - he smiles. “I may not have superpowers, but something tells me you’re going to like this, Supergirl.”

“Oh- shiiiiiit.” It’s letting out the sloppiest squelch to have Nanami’s fingers easing inside. 

They’re so large- oh, your mouth drops as he’s burgeoning inside. Through your x-ray vision you could see that he’s scissoring inside- stretching aside that velvety channel- letting the doughy tips of his fingers probe inside like two searchlights attempting to pinpoint your most treasured spots. He’s rovering in deeeeeep- and you’re letting your face press into the damp mattress. “You’re enjoying this, Supergirl?”

“I-I am.” You huff. You’re humpin’ up into his pretty face so hard that the bedframe was creaking and moaning. Just as you must have been.

“And is your- hah, favorite Earthling making you feel good—?”

You’re levelling a half-hearted glare at him. “Bold of you to assume- but yes.” His fingers are just so close- “To the right…”

And he’s immediately heeding your every word- meanwhile, his mouth seemed to have felt a little lonely. Because Nanami hastens to latch his kiss-bitten lips around your throbbing clit. “Good. Because I’m just made to make you feel good, my darling. I need this. I need this. M’made for this.” Huffing. “Don’t be afraid to fuck my tongue as hard as you want- don’t be afraid to s-suffocate me, because m’here just to make you—ngh, feel good—”

Pushing up into you.

Pressing himself between your legs even harder.

“I don’t need to breathe- I need you to tell me where that g-spot is.”

Your head’s throwing backwards, thighs trembling around him- you’re soon wrapping your legs around Nanami’s perspired head and locking your ankles around him. Digging his tongue even deeper- he crashes and crashes them against your clit in time with his probin’ fingers. “A little more-”

“How much more?”

“Just about an inch- oh.” You’re squawking out in a way that’d be so embarrassing if it was anytime but now. “And to the left…upwards.”

He notices that you’re almost shying away from his touch with every plap! of his palm hitting the forefront of your cunt. Harder. Faster—even though he may have been a gentleman, Nanami’s fingers were decidedly not. They’re ravenous; managing to curl against the side of your walls, with your direction perfectly locating that one spot you’ve been aching to be touched this entire time. And the human wastes no time pushing against it- you think you’re seeing stars—hey, was that Krypton?

Too occupied to come up with a concrete answer, however, you’re simply basking in the pleasure that Nanami was pouring through your veins.

And he only seems too happy to have your hips hikin’ higher and your pussy pushing up all the way until his nose- with every single thrust he was battering. Your gooey insides are shuddering at the sheer force, you’re feeling a tightness start to formulate at the pit of your stomach. 

Something sore - blissfully so.

“I think…” You gasp. “No I know—” And the thing about being Kryptonian was that it came with immense control over your physiology- which also meant that you could cum on demand. But oh, how much better it felt when it was being drawn out of you by Nanami’s sweet sweet fingers.

Plunging - each time from the rounded tips of his digits and down until those knuckles, reddening at the persistent skin-to-skin contact - towards your g-spot every time. Multiple times a second.

“-Kento, I’m going to cum—”

“So cum f’me, Supergirl-” Nanami spits against your cunt. He sounds ragged- he sounds gone. His tone was a barely-there husk of what it had once been, and his eyes seemed unable to focus on anything but the pretty soakin’ pussy right in front of him. He kept his mouth so fucking full of your throbbing clit as he continued speaking. “Cum f’me…my girl.”

Shit—he’s blushing just saying it. But the effect on you is undeniable - you’re throwing your head into the fluffy pillows and finally letting loose. 

Wrenching on Nanami’s hair. Squeezing his head till he almost suffocates- you’ve got the feeling that he gladly would. Dragging your slick-glazed folds against his face and cumming and cumming.

As your euphoria rips straight through you - Nanami leaves his mouth further ajar and swivels his tongue inside as well. In addition to his fingers, he’s now attempting to squeeze his tongue inside to fuck you silly- to make your dazed peripherals roll to the back of your scalp. “This is what I’m made for.” And you’re unsure whether that was him or the aphrodisiac talking. “This is all I ever wanna do now—mmm—” He moans as syrupy juices stream down either side of his mouth and he’s sucking in your pussy. “My darling, you don’t know how badly I mean it when I say m’made for you. For this pussy.”

You whimper as he perfects his tonguing thrusts to the rhythm of your orgasm. Hitting every single peak. “Sh-shit…it’s becoming sensitive…”

“My darling, I’d rather die than leave this pussy from now onwards.”

“Never expected a gentleman like you to be so filthy.” You huff- rather difficult, considering how much he managed to take your breath away. As he prolongs your high until you’re dizzy—

And then some.

“Mmmm, I’m sensitive.” Fondly; you tug on his golden strands. Nanami lets out a rumble of acknowledgement, but he doesn’t move a single inch - merely grazing- not even properly eating you out anymore, he’s just sloppy grazing his hungry mouth against your sensitive cunt. 

Lapping up the last few dredges of your slick.

Occasionally wishing to feel the clench of your hole- and letting it dip inside—

“Hck!” Tears start to well up behind your eyes. And you have to speak to something deep and carnal within Nanami - otherwise you’re getting the feeling that he’s never going to part his lips from your own drenched ones. “Kento, you can stay here if you want…”

“Mmm-” He eagerly runs his tongue between your velvety folds again.

“-but I was really thinking that we could use my x-ray vision…” That seems to finally pique his interest, and he’s looking up at you. “-for something else. Something bigger, hm?” Pointedly, your eyes dip down.

He knows exactly what you’re talking about.

And in no time, Nanami Kento’s shuffling up your twitching body - still oh-so-sensitive from your previous high. And his hips are closing towards yours, his ruby-red tip is slipping between your legs and sandwiching between your pussylips for a few thrust-thrust-thrusts—“A-are you sure, my darl- oh.”

Before you claw at Nanami’s muscular back and crush him against your body.

Against your hips- your readily awaiting cunt.

Just that sopping, sap-covered tip of his manages to fit inside in that moment - and you’re feeling it throb like he’s always wanted to be here. Filling up the cavern of your cunt and making your toes curl- such a delicious streeeetch—! you’ve never felt before. And Nanami watches as you’re on the verge of shattering just as he already has—and he leans down to press a quick press on the edge of your chin. “M-mmmm.” 

But it’s hard even think let alone fucking speak with your soaking wet cunt wrapped around him like this. His very own taste of heaven.

Nanami’s letting escape a few botched moans- before he decides to preserve whatever is left of his dignity, and bites down on his pathetically wobbling lip. Trying his very best to keep any noise from leaving him as he experimentally moves his hips behind and probes back inwards with his plump, puckered tip. Just the round girth of it openin’ you up even more. “Sh-shiiiiiiit—my darling, am I even…”

You’re looping your arms around him and dragging him even closer. But Nanami’s too far gone to even kiss you properly- and his lips end up sliding around your jawline. “Even what, Kento?”

Bleary eyes damn-near popping out of his skull. Skin flushed ever-redder due to the aphrodisiac or simply just…you. Cock spurting out wad after wad of eager precum—he just couldn’t stop himself.

“Alive…” Nanami rasps out.

And your jaw drops at the question. “Is that…is that a joke, baby?” Although you already knew the answer- Nanami Kento was never the type to just joke.

And just as you’d expected, he’s furiously shaking his head and pumping out a few more overeager semi-thrusts. So overeager, in fact, that he’s ending up plopped out of your wettened cavern- and Nanami almost blows a fuse trying to get himself back in.

“Let me help you with that, Kento.” You giggle. Pushing aside his fumbling fingers, you’re wrapping your own around his incredibly thickened base - enough to make your mouth water.

Pointing the globular top of his shaft towards your cunt, you allow him to push inside once more. Breath hitching. Thighs shaking. Pants erratic as he does so- “Are you alright, baby?” You ask him—this time opening your legs wider to let his furious inches shovel in. “D’you think you can handle it if I use my powers to bring all of you inside?”

“Yes but…no.” Nanami admits. He wears a sheepish smile on his face - almost shy. Which was in direct contrast with the way he’s scrapin’ his right hand down your core and resting it atop your womb. He looks at you with raised brows. “Here?”

You nod. “Right there.” Then you’re wiggling your hips down in order to take him deeper—

But Nanami’s stopping you with a hand at your waist- practically glued onto your skin. He’s firm in his touch though not unkind. And Nanami’s boring deeeeply into your eyes - your very soul - as he’s giving you light, shallow thrusts. Poking himself past that ruthless squeeze of your entrance. “I…hah, I’ll need your superpowers to tell me where I am, my darling. And exactly where you want me.” 

Then Nanami plants you with a particularly hard strike that sends his long cock digging. His sides were decorated with a zig-zagging pattern of veins that massages your delicate insides.

“But as for fitting inside…” His mouth fucking waters at the prospect - and you already know with your senses. The gentleman leans down and spits in your mouth. “-we’re gonna do it the human way, okay?”

“Please-” Your nails start to dig into the shifting muscles of his back. “Please-”

And he’s not doing it the human way—not instantly. Before that; Nanami removes your palms from his shoulders and pins them above your head. Using but a single hand of his.

And you know you could easily overpower him - you just know it - but in this instance it makes something carnal twitch inside you to have the calm, soft-spoken gentleman shatter in this way on your pussy. It wasn’t just the aphrodisiac: he was using one hand to restraint yours- so hard that you feel his nail marks, he was using the other to push your knees up until they hit your tits, he was pulling his cock out until it was juuuust the pretty, pinkish top of his shaft.

And then plunging back in.

As deep as he could go - until he’s feeling the little tightness of your entrance. Then reeling back out to repeat. And repeat.

And repeat.

And repeat.

Nanami Kento was stabbing you with his cock nearly a dozen times a second—and he wasn’t sweet with it- he wasn’t fucking gentle. 

He was utterly pussydrunk and fucking you just like it. “Please, please, please—” Nanami’s attractive baritone hitches at the very end of his sentence, breaking into a million pieces just as he was. “Sh-shit, it’s like the deeper I go…the more I can’t- hngh.”

“Think?” You flutter your lashes up at him.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “That.”

And you can’t help but let out a little giggle—the way his flared tip rubbed your insides was addictive. He was so wiiiiide above his sensitive slit, and that was pushing forcefully into every one of your hidden spots. “You’re so close to my- hck! favorite spot, Kento. Do you remember where that was?” 

“Mmm, my darling- remember?” Nanami looks down at you with crazed eyes. “I can’t even remember my own name right now.”

“Then I’ll guide you.”

Though your arms were pinned to the bed, you’re able to careen your hips up into his. And that ruggedly handsome v-line of his was slowly growing redder at the repeated contact- to which you’re only pushing up even harder. “Just a little deeper- two inches?” You’re using your x-ray vision to map out the perfect route to your g-spot. “And then a little more- fuck, angle your hips a little more to the left.”

“Like this?” He asks. Beautiful hazel eyes almost fluttering shut at the onslaught of sudden squeezes that your cunt was blessing him with. “Fuck, how are you squeezing me even- deeper?”

“My superhuman powers?” You’re joking- joking.

But that doesn’t stop Nanami from asking- “Then does that mean you can…snap my dick off with that pussy, my darling?”

At first you’re in disbelief that such words could have possibly left Nanami Kento’s - the Nanami Kento’s - mouth. And then when it’s finally sunken in, you’re debating whether he was actually serious about it—he looked serious enough. “Ah…” Your lips part. “Kiss me.”

He does.

And as he does, that winding restraint of your legs tugs n’ tugs him ever-closer. Ever-deeper.

That bulbous tip of his was openin’ you up so fucking well—hidden nooks you hadn’t even known existed. And after a few more jerky thrusts, Nanami breaks the kiss with a rather lecherous slurp! and moves to huff against your ear. “I-is it all the way in, my dearest?”

“Shouldn’t you be the one to know that?” You’re chuckling before looking down using your x-ray vision once more.

“Tell me, my darling- tell me.” And Nanami Kento was always rather the stoic man—never combusting, never overreacting. But at this moment, it feels as though the longer he’s not fully stuffed in your cunt, the more and more he’s fucking losing it-

“Well…just a few inches longer until you’re gonna be- hah-” Untangling one of your hands from his, you’re running it down your core. Your womb. “-here.”

And Nanami can’t hurry up enough to pin your hands back on the mattress, replacing it with his own. He fucking moans when he realizes that - if he presses down hard enough, perhaps through your superhuman powers - you can make him feel himself bumpin’ thrusts from the outside. You continue. “But you’re actually pretty close to- ah.”

Just then your words are taking on a trilling tone.

Almost matching his in terms of neediness.

Nanami’s running his lengthy cock so deeeeep inside that he ends up rubbin’ his flared tip along either side of your channel—perfectly massaging that one spot you’ve been yearning for this entire time. It’s like a pretty target then that he’s never failing to hit over and over and over again- until you’re throbbing and raw inside.

And every one of his thrusts end up puncturing that spot. That sweet bundle of nerves that makes his mouth water- you’re shattering around his shaft every time he repeats the motion. “Deeper.” Nanami chokes out. “Deeper- now I just need you to take me even deeper. I don’t just want it- I need it.”

And pressing your legs apart with his strong pelvis- he’s murmuring as he hones in.

That target at the back of your pussy.

That gummy surface that just seemed to be calling to him.

That area at the very bottom that just seemed soaked in his never-ending precum—“I need it. I need it. I need it so fuckin’ badly.” He was slurring on his words by this point, and Nanami noses down the column of your throat. “It’s like every atom inside me is burning up. Not just because of the fuck- aphrodisiac.”

“Not just…?” You ask with widened eyes.

And he’s grinding down on the heavenly spot between your legs - so hard that the scruff of his happy trail massages your clit. And it’s such a primal sensation that you don’t think you’d ever be able to replicate—not even with your hypercontrol. “Not just.” He dips his face into the crook of your neck, hair sticking to your clammy skin. “My darling, your body’s liquor.”

Harder and harder. 

With a few more thorough strokes, Nanami’s finally - finally - bottoming out. 

You feel the moment he empties out those thick, throbbing inches with a rough bang! The velvety end of his tip swipes across your cervix- and you’re shivering at the rope of goey precum he’s leaving behind. “Sh-shiiiiiit.”

“Have I…?” Nanami’s pupils dilate. “Have I…” And he keeps fucking you in merciless thrusts.

You smile, “Why don’t you see for yourself, Kento?” He seriously didn’t realize, yet?

Nanami blinks dazedly a few times- before he’s slowly ducking his head downwards and staring at the place where you two were connected. Where your puffy pussylips were struggling to swallow down his red cock—and his heavy balls were thwack-thwack-thwacking away. And it’s enough to make his mouth water.

“Oh.”

His breath hitches as he sees that lil’ tummy bulge he was fucking into you.

And Nanami falters his hips - for just a split-second - so that he could reach down and give that tummy bulge a kiss—a fucking kiss. Coming back up with the most accomplished smile- “I-I think m’close, my darling.”

“So then cum, Kento.” You’re breaking free of his restraint to throw your arms around him again. “And I’ll-”

“No.” The blond man already knew what you were going to say. Shaking his sweaty head, “I won’t let you make yourself cum using your powers, my dear—this Earthling is going to do it himself.”

So you’re keeping your mouth shut and giving into the pleasure - and on Krypton you may have had to use your physiological control to get yourself off most of the time- but Nanami was hellbent on making you feel better than he already was. He’s slammin’ away into your g-spot. He’s using his now-free hand to roll over your clit.

Again and again and again—

As many times as he needed to in order to push you towards your high - even if it meant rubbin’ his reddened cock raw against the sopping hot insides of your cunt. In next to no time; Nanami has your toes curling at the sheer amount of pleasure shooting up from them.

And you’re babbling away into the grove of his neck, “K-Kento, I’m close…”

“Please-” He sounds very much ruined by how he’s had to push his own orgasm for yours- gladly, at that. “P-please…” A ribbon of spit glides from the corner of his mouth, and Nanami pushes down on your tummy bulge using his chiselled abs. “Cum on my cock, my girl.”

You’re both reaching your highs at the same time - Nanami’s with a few more choked-up groans and the sloppiest thrusts you’ve ever had the pleasure of receiving, and you with a few more replays of his name and the bed frame shattering underneath you. It’s solely from using your super strength to fuck back into Nanami’s cock - something you hadn’t even realized you’d been doing.

Your brain feels completely fried by the crescendo of your high- getting every peak of it smacked! by Nanami’s ruthless hips.

Again and again—he’s pumping out scalding white globs of cum.

It empties out midway down your walls and smears once he’s hittin’ your cervix. “Cum on my- cum on my…oh, fuck.” Nanami’s pupils tremble- “Don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before…”

“Mmm, me neither.” You coo up at him. Your own orgasm was taking over you nerve by nerve—flooding it with white-hot pleasure. Back arching. Knees trembling. It thrums inside of you - and you’re wondering just how potent that aphrodisiac is, because your heartbeat’s almost concerningly fast—

“S’that so?” Nanami slurs. Pressing a chaste peck to your lips as he fucks his cum inside you. “Because I’m not just talking about the sex.”

Oh.

The realization hits you like a freight truck - or maybe a block of Kryptonite. Your heartbeat wasn’t increasing just because of the aphrodisiac. Not at all.

You’re pressing your lips to Nanami’s once more, and you can see yourself doing it over and over and over again.

“Me too.”

And then after a moment, you laugh.

“Kento, we broke the bed.”

.

.

.

SUPERGIRL SAVES 160,000 AT RAINBOW BRIDGE—A TIMELINE OF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE’S NEWEST ADDITION.

EXCLUSIVE: LOCAL JOURNALIST SAVED BY SUPERGIRL (THE COVERPAGE OF THE YEAR?)

SUPERVILLAIN KENJAKU FINALLY ARRESTED! REVEALED TO BE BEHIND RAINBOW BRIDGE SITUATION AND SLANDER CAMPAIGN AGAINST SUPERGIRL…

“I spy with my little eye…” Shoko’s knowing gaze flickers between you and Nanami. “-a smile. Two smiles.”

Nanami’s warm gaze turns to you. “Ah, what’s there not to smile about?”

“Considering I’ve finally cleared up my name.” You respond. And it was true; ever since the highly-publicized double heroism in which you saved both Nanami and managed to prevent the Yurikamome Line accident, the headlines couldn’t get enough of your name. Except this time…it wasn’t a bitter taste on their tongues. 

Were we wrong about Supergirl? Was Kenjaku behind the hate campaign?

(Partially. You don’t doubt that that man had his fingers in every pot and scheme possible, but you don’t doubt that most of it was pure human vitriol. And you hoped Kenjaku continued seething…from Tokyo Island Penitentiary.)

It was sweet.

And you weren’t naive enough to believe that the criticism would stop immediately - or in fact ever - but that was alright now. That was fine. 

When you were you.

And you had Nanami beside you—

He intertwines his hand with yours- and Shoko pretends to gag at the sweet, sweet act. The both of you are shaking your heads at her dramatics; which you know she didn’t mean considering the cover page that she’d been staring at at that very moment.

That second headline.

EXCLUSIVE: LOCAL JOURNALIST SAVED BY SUPERGIRL (THE COVERPAGE OF THE YEAR?)

By Nanami Kento.

Underneath those words were a picture snapped from the night you’d save Nanami for the second time. 

You’re crashing through the ceiling of Kenjaku’s bar. You’re carrying Nanami Kento in a princess carry. You. You. You. Powerful and precise. And the way that Nanami was staring at you- oh, he had stars in his eyes brighter than the night sky in the background. His arms were holding onto you like a lifeline, and you were unfettered as you held him close like a star himself.

It was the very picture of heroism.

But to you, it was also…

“Love.” Shoko whispers. “You’re in love.”

And you’re opening your mouth in response - but you’re spared from answering, as you hear something in the distance—a scream. Downtown Shibuya. There was a mugging in occurrence and the perpetrator seemed to have a weapon.

You’re looking at Nanami and Shoko, and both nod as they recognize the hardened glint in your eye.

They’d come up with some believable excuse for your absence, surely. And if they didn’t…

You’re sweeping a glance at the mundane cubicles to make sure no one was watching- then ducking out of the nearest open window as fast as light. On strong summer winds, you’re flying off to save someone—and underneath that grey coat of yours flapped your iconic suit. You tear it open at the chest to reveal the ‘S’ underneath.

-it didn’t matter, anyway.

You were Supergirl.

A/N. Hehehehehe-

“Sorry baby I got held up,” you bat your lashes at him, glancing at the man following you, he stares right back at you. 

“Do you have business with the Farspace Fleet?” His voice is sharp around the edges, eyes narrowing as he addresses the man. He quickly shakes his head ‘no’ and turns on his heel. Caleb can't help but scoff, his arm swinging over your shoulder and turning the two of you to walk the opposite direction. “Are you okay?’ the colonel asks you, his voice gentle as he smiles down at you, soft violet eyes catching your own. 

“I am now, I can't thank you enough,” you breathe out, willing your erratic heartbeat to slow down. “Sorry for getting all on you colonel,” you blush, smiling when the taller man laughs at your words. 

“No worries, I'm glad to help,” he pauses for a second, “and you can just call me Caleb.”

“Thank you so much Caleb,” his name feels nice on your tongue, “I’m y/n, can I buy you a drink or something?” 

Caleb’s mind short circuits for a second, his whole life he’d rejected everyone's advances, he always had MC by his side. But now she's in Linkon and thinks he’s dead, he's not the same Caleb she loved. His heart unclenches when he meets your shy gaze. 

“Do you like coffee?”

Conversation seemed to flow easy between the two of you after a couple minutes, soft laughter leaving your lips, blushing when you see Caleb laughing alongside you. 

Caleb frowns when you beat him to the bill. “This is my thank you for helping me out,” you shake your head, “no way you were gonna pay.”

“Alright, alright” he sighs dramatically, “I’ll just have to get the next one.” You cock your head slightly. 

“Next one?”

“Would you wanna get dinner with me?” Caleb finds himself wanting to make you flustered more, cute he thinks. 

You debate it for a moment, you didn't exactly put yourself in the dating scene as much as you wanted, what's there to lose? 

“I would like that very much,” you finally say, your smile widening when Caleb lights up. 

Months later the leaves turned shades of orange and pink, your hand in Caleb's as the two of you walked in the park, a small breeze brushes past the two of you making you shiver slightly.

“Don’t” you groan, seeing the look on your boyfriend's face. Caleb bites his tongue, a smirk on his face as he silently shrugs his jacket off and drapes it over you, pulling you in by your waist.

“Told you to bring a jacket,” he taunts, laughing when you launch yourself at him, a small ‘oof’ leaving him as you smack his chest. 

“Caleb?” The feminine voice makes the two of you stop and turn to face them, she was gorgeous, and she matched the description Caleb gave you of his first love. You felt your blood go cold, head spinning as you looked at Caleb. His mouth was agape, eyes sparkling as he stared at her, hand dropping yours instantly. Your heart clenched. 

“MC,” he breathed out, he said her name like it was something holy, had he ever said yours in that tone?

“Oh my god it's really you,” her eyes watered, she didn't hesitate to run into his arms, and Caleb caught her like it was second nature. His eyes closed, burying his face in the crook of her neck, memories flooding back. 

You stood there awkwardly, he had explained the situation to you, how were you supposed to react? While, yes, it sucked seeing someone hold your boyfriend so deeply, she was also just discovering he was alive. You bit your lip, insecurities creep up on you, finding yourself comparing yourself to her when you hadn't even introduced yourself. 

When they finally pull away, you stare at Caleb, he quickly moves away from her, clearing his throat, “pips this is y/n” he gestures to you. MC smiles at you, waving before focusing back on your boyfriend. 

“What the fuck happened?” she scolds, smacking him roughly and Caleb smiles down softly at her, like you weren't standing a couple feet away. 

You suddenly feel out of place, your throat tightens up as you shift your weight on your feet. “I’ll um- I’ll let you guys catch up,” you speak up, only then does Caleb tear his gaze from her and focus on you. 

“I’ll text you, okay?” he gives you a tight lipped smile, the same he gives cashiers and kind strangers. You don't say anything, turning on your heel and wrapping the jacket tighter around you. 

“Who was that?” you hear her say, ears twitching back to listen out for Caleb's response. 

“Just a friend of mine.”

You let the stray tear fall from your eye when you finally reach your car, taking a deep breath before driving home, alone. You leave Caleb’s jacket in your car, stomach twisting as you imagine what they're doing, is he still staring at her like that? 

“Just a friend of mine,” the words echo in your head, anger and sadness brewing in your chest, a bitter taste in your mouth as you try to eat dinner. The same dinner you and Caleb had cooked together earlier. 

The buzzing of your phone tears your blank stare from the tv, a random show you didn't care for filling the silence of your apartment. 

[new messages from caleb <3]

Sorry about earlier I get how weird that must've been for you :/  I appreciate how understanding you were, thank you so much Shes pretty shaken after i told her everything so shes spending the night at mine I’ll text you tomorrow ?

You stare at your phone, heart breaking further as you reread the messages. She's spending the night with him? A new message makes you focus on your phone again. 

Wanna go to that bakery you like tomorrow ? my treat :3

Your heart softens, maybe things won't change, he's still your Caleb. With shaky fingers you reply to him. 

its okay,, i hope everything works out between you guys Bakery sounds good tomorrow :3  Get some rest i love you

Goodnight, see you tmrw :P

You wait for him to say I love you, but it never comes. You don't let yourself ruminate, instead you get off your couch and head to your bedroom, eyelids heavy as you try to sleep, ignoring the growing pit in your stomach. 

The next morning you stare at the ceiling for a handful of minutes before finally getting up and checking your phone. Caleb always sends you a good morning text, he was always awake before you were. You bite the inside of your cheek when there's no new texts from him. It's fine, he must've been emotionally drained from yesterday, it's good that he sleeps in, you reason, shooting him a quick ‘good morning :)’ before continuing on with your day. 

You deep clean your room, trying to ignore the anxiety gnawing at you as you continuously glance at your phone. You’d made it to your living room when your phone buzzed, practically leaping at it to see the notification. Caleb. 

meet at the bakery at 2? sorry i slept in  also is it okay if mc comes along ? 

You feel nauseous as you read the second text. Were you being irrational? You had to be kind, you had to be understanding. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. 

It wasn't bad, it was worse. You smiled at Caleb, instinctively going to wrap your arms around him, he moved back slightly to evade your embrace, eyes shifting to mc. He caught the way your face fell, the way your smile wavered as you swallowed thickly before turning to the girl by his side. You ignored the way your eyes stung as your boyfriend pulled a chair out for her, sitting next to her. You sat alone across from them.

“It's nice to see you again,” you spoke, giving her a small wave, “are you doing okay?” Your genuine concern made Caleb's heart ache. You were so kind, and he knew you didn't deserve this. 

Time seemed to pass terribly slow, your words were rare and movements careful as you picked at your favorite pastry, appetite reduced to nothing as you listened to MC and Caleb reminisce on their past. 

“I had forgotten how good your breakfasts were,” she smiled, turning to you, “have you ever tried the fried eggs he makes? I had them this morning and god it was like a part of me came back to life.” 

“Did you guys wake up early today?” your voice soft, glancing up from your plate and at Caleb. He opens his mouth to speak but MC beats him to it, 

“Yeah, Caleb has always woken up before me, he woke me up with breakfast at like 9 this morning,” she gushes. “How long have you been friends for?” 

Your stomach hurts, heart aching as you nod at her words, Caleb stares at you apologetically, eyes swimming in, remorse? Guilt? You couldn’t pinpoint it. “Only a couple months, I wouldn't know him as well as you,” you reply, "I'll be right back,” you excuse yourself. You hear Caleb's chair scraping the floor, heavy steps hot on your trail as you rush into the restroom, closing the door and locking it quickly before he can stop you. 

“Baby please let me explain,” he pleads through the door. Your ears are ringing, eyes burning as you try to regulate your breathing. What the fuck was happening? How can someone who made you feel loved one day make you feel like day old garbage the next?

You send a text to your friend quickly, begging her to call you in two minutes as a way out. She replies quickly, asking where you were. 

Caleb retreats back to the table with MC, a smile on his face when he sees her. “She’s fine, I think the coffee didn't sit well with her.”

“She’s your girlfriend, right?” It's not a question, MC wasn't stupid. Caleb lets out a deep sigh, running his hand through his hair before replying. 

“I didn't think I would ever get you back, I thought you wouldn't love me for who I am now.” MC stares at Caleb, he can't help the way his gaze softens as he looks at her, he can't stop the flutter in his chest when she reaches for his hand and he doesn't even try to pull away. He lets his fingers intertwine with hers.

“I love even the worst versions of you,” she replies softly, squeezing his hand. Caleb almost leans into her, forgetting where he was. He’s only pulled out of his trance when you pull the chair out from the table and take a seat, making him quickly pull away from MC. 

“Sorry about that,” you mumble, “was I interrupting something?” Caleb is quick to shake his head. 

“Y/N dont you like cats? MC has a stray cat she feeds-” Caleb's words are cut off by your phone ringing. 

“Sorry I have to take this,” you mumble, answering quickly, expression morphing into shock and faux concern. “You’ll be okay, I'll be there soon okay?” You hang up quickly, gathering your things before turning to the pair in front of you. “I have to go, my friend needs me, see you guys around,” you rush out, not daring to look back as you exit the bakery, rounding the corner and rushing into your car, pulling out of the parking lot and speeding down the street. You pull over as your vision blurs, parking on the side of the road as broken sobs leave your body. 

Your friends pick you up, taking you back to their place and having one of them drive your car to theirs. You don't answer any of Caleb's texts or calls for the next two days. 

You go through the motions as you get home from work, heart empty as you toss your keys haphazardly on the entrance table. You barely make it to the shower, hot tears blending with the searing water on your skin. You're glad the steam has fogged up the mirror, pulling a large t-shirt over you, hair still dripping wet as you trudge out into the living room. 

A knock on your door has your stomach dropping, you didn't need to check to know who was on the other side of it. With a deep breath you open the door, red rimmed eyes meeting Caleb’s purple ones. 

Caleb’s breath caught in his throat as he saw you. “Can we talk? Please?” He’s holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands, tulips. You didn’t like tulips, but he always got them for you.

Maybe it was how utterly emotionally drained you were already, but you opened the door further, stepping aside and letting him in. He doesn't hesitate to walk inside, setting the flowers down and letting his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. You let yourself melt into his touch, body tensing when you smell her perfume.

“You wanna talk, so talk,” you state, voice shaky and cold as you sit on the couch, pulling your hand away from Caleb’s as he tries reaching for it. 

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting the last few days, everything has been so hectic. I care about MC so much, and having her back feels strange,” he fumbles out, “I care about you too, it's just there's a lot of stuff that she and I need to talk about and work through.” He scrunches his face up, pinching the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath and speaking again. “I promise I’ll do better, I already set boundaries with her and she's staying somewhere else. I love you y/n, I know I’ve been a shitty boyfriend and I am so fucking sorry but I promise I’ll do better.”

“You called me your friend,” you say softly, eyes focused on a loose thread of your t-shirt. 

“What?” Caleb feels his heart pound against his chest, he can hear the blood rushing through his ears. 

“When she asked who I was, you said I was your friend.” He had never heard your voice so small. You turned to look at him, bags under your eyes as you stared at him. 

“I panicked, I didn’t know how she would react and-”

“What about how I would react?” You question, your eyes still focused on him, he breaks eye contact first. 

“I cleared it all up with her, I promise you I’ll do anything for you to believe me.”

Would you cut her off if I asked? The question rests on the tip of your tongue, you don't ask it, too afraid of what the answer might be. 

“I need you to prove it to me, I can't just be okay because you say what I want to hear,” you finally say. Caleb lets out a relieved sigh, he places his hand over yours cautiously, intertwining your fingers when you don't pull away. 

“I will,” he whispers, “it's only me and you.”

You don't say anything, searching his face but only finding remorse. When he pulls you into him slowly you don't pull away, letting your lips move with his, relishing in the feeling of his body heat radiating onto your exposed thighs. You don’t pull away as he deepens the kiss, pushing away the images of them together as you tug his shirt off, fumbling with his belt buckle. 

“Lillies,” you breathe against his flushed skin, “I’ve already told you before my favorite flowers are lilies.” You're both moving around, completely undressed as you look him in the eye. 

“Okay, lilies” he mumbles, letting out a low groan as he slowly enters you, lips catching yours as he swallows your moans with his every thrust, eyes fluttering shut. 

“I love you” you moan, your lips still pressed against his as he lets out a soft whimper, “I love you so much Caleb.” Your legs wrap around his waist, holding him closer against you, letting your nails leave deep red marks on his back, an attempt at claiming him as your own. You don't see the faint marks left by another that morning.

“Fuck baby, I’m so sorry,” he pants, “don’t deserve you.” He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck as he finishes with a soft groan, holding you against him tightly. 

You stare at the ceiling, fighting back tears as he pulls out of you slowly. He didn't say it back. Caleb stands to get a rag to clean you up, but you give him a soft smile, “I got it.” He furrows his brows, about to protest when you close the restroom door in his face. 

Two weeks, you’d decided. You’ll give Caleb two weeks to show you he’s choosing you. 

But as the days pass you feel your resolve growing weaker and weaker. You noticed the way his eyes glimmered when staring at her, but never at you. You noticed the way his eyes had never crinkled as he smiled the entire time you’d known him, but they do with her. You noticed the way his ears would flush when they’d brush hands, the way he’d force himself to look at you instead. You noticed how he invited her everywhere, even when it was meant to be just the two of you. When was the last time you'd held his hand? The last time he kissed you with love and not lust?

You decided to surprise him one day, your feeble attempt at making him remember the spark you'd felt upon your first encounter. You caught a train to skyhaven and made your way to his place. You’d bought a new plane model, one he hadn't gotten yet, hoping to build it with him. The sun was shining brightly between the clouds, hope still burning in your heart as you knocked twice on the front door. You bounced on the ball of your heel, smiling as you recalled the fond memories with Caleb, having built a handful of planes with him as date nights, kissing him when he let you add the final piece, giggling as he praised you gently. 

When his front door opened, MC’s eyes met yours, smile dropping the second they did. You felt your heart fall, your stomach twisting as you gave her a small smile. “MC, I didn't know you were here,” you hope she doesn't catch the tremble in your voice. 

“I thought Caleb told you I was staying here for a couple weeks?” She cocks her head innocently, “I offered to get a hotel but he insisted I stay with him, isn't he so sweet?” You force a smile on your face, knuckles white from how hard you were gripping the model plane box. 

“Must have slipped my mind,” you say quickly. 

“Did you need something?” she asks, you realize she's wearing Caleb's shirt, you can see a hickey peaking out by her collarbone, your mouth feels dry. You shake your head, blinking quickly before taking a step back. 

“No I was gonna tell him something but it can wait, don't tell him I stopped by.” You turn away before she can reply. 

“Pips, who is it?” Caleb calls out, emerging with his sweats hung low on his hips, no shirt on. MC turns to him with a sweet smile, the one that always makes him melt. 

“Some sales people” she responds, her hands sliding up his chest as she leaves a kiss on his adams apple, “where were we?” Caleb thinks he smells your perfume. 

“Was that Y/N?” He mumbles against her lips, violet eyes staring into hers, she pouts as your name leaves his lips. 

“Does it matter?” She grumbles, hands sneaking under the hem of his sweatpants, “You think she knows about us?” Caleb bites back a whimper as her hand wraps around him, languid strokes make him lose his train of thought. 

“Maybe,” he breathes out, “she won't break up with me anyway,” he moans out, head thrown back as she presses a wet kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck, "she's too nice to do that- cares about me too much.”

You gave the model plane to the first kid you saw, sitting on the train and staring out the window as the scenery flew past you in a blur. The last bit of hope in your heart had been extinguished, stomped out until no embers remained. He loved her in a way you knew he would never love you. Nothing would change that. 

Three days later he picks you up for a date, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, tulips. The same kind as always. They weren't your favorite. You put them in water nonetheless, forcing a smile on your face as the two of you drove to the restaurant he’d made reservations at. Caleb tried to make small talk with you, giving him short responses and only half listening to his words. When he mentioned MC you turned your attention to him, listening to him gush about how she was promoted at her job. 

“What are her favorite flowers? Does she like tulips?” You ask, hoping you were wrong. Caleb's smile seems to grow as he nods. 

“They are! How'd you know that?” He doesn't see your face steel over, oblivious as he changes the topic to something a rookie said at work today. 

He was never going to choose you. It was never going to be you. Your mind blanks for a second, a shooting star catches your eye as he parks the car, getting out and opening the door for you. You don't move. 

It's a funny thing when someone gets an epiphany, some jump for joy while others scramble to take action, lest their idea slips their mind. You seem frozen in place as your mind seemingly resets. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” you laugh dryly, eyes meeting Caleb's for the first time this evening. You can't stop the incredulous laughter that leaves your mouth, “Oh my god what the fuck am I doing?” You repeat yourself, a hand covering your mouth as you smile in disbelief. 

“Baby? Are you alright?” Caleb’s face contorts in panic, reaching out to you only to pull away when you smack his hand “Hey what-”

“You were right,” you say, a smile still on your face as you turn to him, getting out of the passenger seat and standing next to him. 

“Right about what? You're scaring me, you need to calm down, you're not thinking straight,” He glances around, grateful no one is around to see the state you were in. 

“I deserve better.” You state, your voice wasn't small and apologetic, there was no kindness left in your words. “I don't know why I stayed when I realized you were choosing between me and someone else.” You shake your head, “I deserve to be the only choice, I deserve someone who wouldn't even think about entertaining another while they're with me.” Caleb opens his mouth to speak, you cut him off before he can. “I should have never been a choice, I should have been the only one,” you spit out. “Only me and you right?” venom drips from your words, Caleb flinches slightly. 

“Did you say that to her while you fucked her too? After you lied to me about her staying somewhere else?” Caleb’s blood goes cold, face paling as the words leave your  mouth. 

You held out hope, you tried harder, he did nothing to change. He prioritized her the second she came back, he ran to her the moment she let him. He made a fool out of you, played you in plain daylight, and you all but let him. When did you become okay with being second best in your own relationship? When did you settle for less than you deserve? 

“You were a good boyfriend for a bit there, but I don't deserve this shit.”

Caleb feels his throat tighten, he never thought you would actually leave him. He wants to tell you that you aren't a second choice, but he can't bring himself to lie to you any longer. He wants to convince you to stay, tell you he’ll do better, but he knows you deserve better. He knows he can’t let go of MC, he needs her, he loves her; It will always be her.

He doesn't try to chase after you when you walk away from him, hailing the first cab you see. Caleb thought he would feel relief, knowing he and MC didn't have to sneak around anymore, but as he watches your cab drive away he feels sick. A sinking feeling in his stomach as he realizes you weren't coming back. 

It took you a while to get over Caleb, countless nights spent sobbing in your pillow and picking yourself apart. You’d go through the motions everyday; Go to work, come home, cry, sleep. It was a never ending cycle of you and your insecurities. 

Your sadness slowly turned to anger, going out drinking with your friends as you worked through your emotions. Your friends were there to pick you up and piece you back, reminding you of your worth. It took three months for the memories to not leave a bitter taste in your mouth. You even found yourself feeling a bit grateful for the experience, vowing to never lose sight of your worth. 

Slowly you’d reintegrated back into the world, hanging out with friends and visiting new bakeries and restaurants. It felt nice feeling free, knowing you didn't have to worry about anyone betraying your trust. 

The AC feels nice against your skin, walking slowly around the art pop up your friends had invited you to. You’d heard the artist's name in passing, familiar with a couple of his more famous pieces. When you pause in front of a particularly interesting one you feel someone’s presence next to you.

“Seems kinda pretentious doesn't it?” The man stares at you, a playful smile on his lips. You smile back at him, focusing back on the painting before humming. 

“I like it,” you reply, “kinda reminds me of a seagull choir or something,” a small chuckle escapes your lips. “You’re pretty harsh on yourself, don't you think?” 

The artist's smile only widens as he follows you to the next painting. “I should've known better than to try and be mysterious,” he sighs out, you laugh. “Well since you know my name I think it's only fair I get to know yours, don't you think?”

“You saying I owe you something just because you're famous?” you quip back, biting back a smile as his eyes widen, waving his hands quickly. 

“No! God no!” your laughter makes his panicking cease, jaw dropping slightly as he laughs in disbelief. “Oh you’re evil,” he smiles. You half expect him to thank you for attending and leave, but he follows you to the next painting. 

“I’m y/n” you finally say, leaning closer to the painting and humming in appreciation, “I really like this one, my compliments to the artist.” 

Rafayel smiles, chest puffing out in pride as he moves closer to you. “You can have it if you want, it'll only cost you a date with me.” 

You scoff at his words, there was no way that was happening, you weren't nearly ready for a relationship. “Right,” you reply. Rafayel pauses, did he just get rejected? At his own art show?

“Was that a yes?” He asks, walking quickly to catch up next to you, leaning against the railing and staring at you when you grab a brochure and look at him. The painting he’s willing to give you is worth a couple million. 

“I don't have room in my apartment for a painting that big,” you evade, flipping the brochure open before moving onto the next installation. “It was really nice meeting you, I love your work” you smile sweetly, Rafayel feels his knees buckle. 

“What if I made you a smaller painting? One of a kind, one that fits in your apartment?” He stands in front of you, it's the closest you've ever seen him. You're suddenly aware why there's so many people swooning at his very move, his blue eyes stare into yours, you can see flecks of red in the lower half of them. 

“One of a kind painting by Rafayel himself?” you gasp, “I could buy a house with that kind of money” you tease. 

“I’ll give you all the money from this exhibition if you agree to go on a date with me.” 

“Yeah okay” you say, the playful smile on your face slowly drops as he smiles back at you. 

“Okay done, what bank do you use? I don't know exactly how much I'll make, it can take days for people to negotiate- I'll just send you the higher ballpark number,” he replies, not missing a beat as he pulls out his phone, typing away. “Also what’s your favorite flower?”

“Wait, no I was just joking!” Now it was your turn to panic, quickly running to his side to try and stop whatever he was doing on his phone. Your eyes narrow at him when you see the screen, it wasn't even on. “You’re evil” you echo his words from earlier. 

“I’d say we’re even, cutie” the term of endearment has your face flushing, “your favorite flower?” he questions again, head tilted to the side as he awaits your response, the motion causes his purple bangs to cover his eyes ever so slightly. 

“Lilies,” you reply, a pang in your chest as memories flood in. 

“What time should I pick you up?”

You finally don't have a remark for him, mouth opening to protest, only to close it as his eyes glimmer at you. It must be from the lights shining on the paintings, you reason, there’s no way he's looking at you like that. There’s a reason you hadn't thrust yourself onto the dating scene, heart still fragile, insecurities still waiting to pounce. 

“I can’t,” you finally say, tearing your gaze from his and placing the brochure in his hands, “I’m really sorry.” Rafayel furrows his brows, watching as you walk towards the exit. He takes a step forward, ready to chase after you, Thomas grabs his arm, pulling him towards the patrons who he’d kept waiting while he flirted incessantly with you. 

A week later your phone buzzes while you're at work, casually sneaking a glance at it before your eyes go wide, slapping a hand over your mouth as you quickly excuse yourself outside. 

[RAFAYEL QI has sent you $10,000 dollars]

your daily limit is only 10k, i’ll send you the rest tmrw or i can give it in cash when we go on our date?

You’re scrambling to try and contact him, calling his office number and being greeted by an exhausted voice. “This is Thomas, what can I help you with?”

“Hi, is there any way I can speak to Rafayel? It's urgent,” you bite your bottom lip, frowning when the man on the other side of the line laughs at you. 

“And who is this? His long lost lover I presume?” His condescending tone makes your fists clench. 

“Tell him it's y/n,” you snip back, bouncing your leg as you watch the cars drive past. There’s a brief pause on the line and a minute later you hear Thomas’ voice. 

“Are you still there ma’am?” He seems much more respectful now than before. When you respond he lets out a sigh of relief, “Apologies for my attitude, Rafayel has asked me to give you his number so you can contact him directly, do you have something to write it down?” 

You dial the number right after hanging up with Thomas, knee still bouncing anxiously as it rings once before being answered. 

“Did you get your money, cutie? I can give you the rest cash if you'd like, it'll take a couple days for me to send-” 

“Are you insane?” you hissed, “I thought you knew I was joking! How did you even get my bank information?” Rafayel is smiling on the other line, leisurely brushstrokes on his canvas as he listens to your scolding. 

“I’m a man of my word, I don't intend on letting you slip away from me so easily,” he pauses for a second, “it's not everyday that someone sees the seagull choir inspiration behind my painting y’know.” You can't stop the scoff that leaves your lips, it only eggs him on. “One date is all I'm asking, please?” 

“Why do you want to go on a date with me so badly?” You question, confidence wavering since the first time you'd met him. 

“You’re beautiful, witty and funny, what more could a guy want?” He laughs.

His first love, you think, pushing the thought to the back of your mind. You let out a sigh, staring up at the clouds before biting your lip. He got his happy ending, what's stopping you from finding yours?

“You can pick me up tomorrow at 6 o’clock, I hate when people are late” you finally say, “I’ll text you my address.” You bite your bottom lip when you hear Rafayel thank you. 

Rafayel shows up the next day at 5:59 PM, knocking on your door the second the clock hits 6 pm. You can't help but roll your eyes, smiling as you open the door. He's holding a bouquet of flowers, pink and white lilies. 

The date goes well, much to your dismay, falling for his charms more than you anticipated. The two of you sit on the hood of his car, parked by the side of the highway overlooking Whitesand Bay. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, the ocean breeze makes Rafayel's purple hair seem model-like, like he was made to be by the ocean. 

“Can I ask you something?” His voice is soft, eyes focused on the waves breaking on the shore. You let out a hum for him to continue. “Why did you say you couldn’t come on this date with me?” There’s a brief pause, “you don’t have to answer, I’m just curious.” 

You debate not answering, figuring it was much too soon to trauma dump and bring up exes. His index finger brushes against where yours rested on top of  the car's hood. You steal a glance at him, his ears are flushed.  

“My ex was in love with someone else,” you say plainly, sitting a little straighter, “He told me he only loved me, it was obviously a lie seeing as though he fucked her a couple days after telling me that.” You don’t tear your gaze from the ocean, letting its rhythmic sounds keep you grounded. 

“As embarrassing as it is, I tried to make it work, let myself believe his empty words. My insecurities were eating me alive and it was just a bad situation. When I finally realized how stupid I looked I left, realized I deserved better than that.” 

Rafayel turns to look at you, dumbfounded on how someone could treat you so terribly. “I didn’t want to rush into anything and make the same mistakes, I’d like to think I know my worth now, but you know how it goes.” You shrug, as if you hadn’t just bared your heart to him. 

His hand finds its way over yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a soft squeeze, his eyes flickering to your hands before settling on your face, unwavering when you look at him. “Give me one chance and I’ll show you the kind of love you deserve to know.”

The moonlight illuminates his features beautifully, the slope of his nose, curve of his lips, the color of his eyes. Your breath hitches as his gaze intensifies, honing in on you. “Please, let me be the one to show you,” his voice is gentle but firm, it sends a shiver down your spine in the best way possible. 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat before speaking up, “okay,” you whisper, “one chance.” Rafayel smiles softly, using all of his willpower to not kiss you on the hood of his car. 

You’re greeted by a bouquet of lilies the next day at work, a note in cursive sitting between the blooms. 

“Thank you for last night, I hope to see you again soon- Rafayel”

The gesture makes your cheeks flush, your phone buzzing in your pocket. 

[1 new message from Rafayel]

Did you get my gift? :3 

yes they’re beautiful thank you so much I’m shocked you remembered i like lilies lol

how could I not? they’re your favorite flower <3

Your cheeks burn as you lock your phone, embers of hope burn in your chest. What if it’s different? What if it’s worth a shot? You know your worth now, you won’t let yourself be treated as second best, not anymore. 

Rafayel romances you hard. He takes you to dinner, sends you packages, and flowers to your home and at work, and shows up when you’re about to take your lunch break in his fancy sports car. “My horoscope said to appreciate the beautiful things in life, can I take you to lunch?”

You try to fight it, try to keep your words sharp and tone light. Slowly you find yourself wanting to let your guard down, letting your eyes linger on him for a second longer, embracing the flutter in your chest when he takes your hand in his to lead you through a busy street. 

It’s scary to let yourself be vulnerable after being hurt viciously. But how beautiful is it to be loved? How wonderful does it feel to know you will be chosen over and over again? 

And so you stop fighting it, heart pounding in your ears as Rafayel talks about a painting he was working on, telling you he’d found a new muse to inspire him. 

“Someone new?” You feel the familiar pit in your stomach, eyes scouting the beach to see which way would be better for you to leave him. The sense of impending doom creeping up your spine, you should’ve known better, you would never be enough. 

“Yeah, met them at an art pop up, I’m totally head over heels for them,” he smiles, eyes moving from the moon to your face, his smile morphing into a frown when he takes in your panicked features. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry- I think I just got the wrong impression about this” you shake your head, blinking rapidly and moving to stand up. Rafayel grabs your wrist and pulls you down, causing you to lose your balance and land on top of him. 

“You’re my muse,” he states, “it’s only you.” His eyes glance at your lips, you notice. Your heart is still pounding, your ears ringing. “Can I please kiss you?” His breathing is shaky and you respond with your lips on his. 

It’s electrifying to be kissed like you’re someone’s lifeline, to be held like they never want to let you go. His grip on you is bruising, like he’s finally letting himself free of any restraint as his tongue moves against yours. 

“Been wanting to do this since our first date,” he growls between kisses, lips still pressed against yours, pulling you impossibly close to him. “Please be mine, only mine,” his voice is desperate, whiny almost. 

When you finally pull away from him your face is flushed and gasping for air, hair messy as you stare down at him. Your cheeks burn, hyper aware of the growing hardness beneath you. 

“I had something more romantic planned out next week,” he admits, shyly looking to the side, you grab his chin and force him to look at you. “Would you do me the honor of letting me be your boyfriend?” 

And when he’s looking at you like the greatest treasure in the sea, like you hold his heart in your hands, how can you say no?

“Yeah,” you breathe out, a smile on your lips as you place a gentle kiss to his nose. Rafayel can’t contain his happiness, a grin on his face as he pulls you against him, the two of you laughing loudly as you roll around in the sand. 

You’re still a bit guarded around him at first, grateful with how patient he is with you, never once pushing your boundaries or pushing you for answers. Instead he shows you how much he cares about you, still buying you flowers (always lilies), taking you on surprise dates and buying you the things you mention in passing. 

You open up to him about Caleb after your two months together, and it all seems to click for him. 

“Last name Xia?” he asks, you nod, brows furrowed. 

“How did you know that?” 

“The girl he cheated on you with, was her name MC?” You feel your blood go cold, you give him a slow nod. “She’s supposed to be my bodyguard,” he chuckles dryly. 

You go quiet, maybe you should’ve stayed cautious, you should’ve moved cities or countries, or-

“I’ll fire her, I can get the information I need some other way,” he shrugs, taking his phone out and sending an email before you can even process his words. 

“I don’t want to get in the way of your work,” you finally sputter out, you suddenly feel small, the evil voice in the back of your head growing louder. 

“It makes you uncomfortable for me to work with her, yes?” He watches you carefully, only continuing when you nod ever so slightly, opening your mouth with a rebuttal, he cuts you off before you can. “She played a part in hurting you in the past, yes?” You bite your bottom lip, nodding once more. “Then why would I want someone like that to work for me? I would do anything to make sure you’re comfortable, cutie.” 

Your eyes burn, your bottom lip wobbles as you wrap your arms around him. Rafayel is stunned for a second, quickly reciprocating your embrace and rubbing your back. 

“I love you,” you whisper, face buried in the crook of his neck as you say the words, half hoping he didn’t hear you. 

Rafayel holds you tighter, you feel his body relax beneath you. “I love you so much,” he breathes out, neither of you daring to move. When you finally pull away you feel lighter, your heart seems fuller as you look at Rafayel. He giggles and blushes when you press a myriad of kisses on his face, a sloppy wet one right on the mole on the apple of his cheek. 

You let your walls down, showering him in love and allowing yourself to be clingy. You let yourself love to the fullest, it’ll be scary, but you’re willing to try. 

When you bump into Caleb two years later you don’t hold any resentment towards him.

“Y/N?” the familiar voice makes your head whip around, Rafyel turns and looks as well.

“Caleb? It’s been a while!” you smile softly at him, he looks tired. “How have you been?” His colonel uniform is just as pristine as it was the last time you’d seen him.

“I’ve been alright,” his eyes flicker to the man next to you, a pit in his stomach when he notices the two of you holding hands. It should’ve been him, he should’ve fought harder, he should've been better. 

“Oh this is my boyfriend, Rafayel!” your eyes sparkle when you say his name, the purple haired man puffs his chest out a bit, holding his hand out, Caleb puts his hand in Rafayels, biting his tongue when your boyfriend's grip is bone crushing.

“Nice to meet you,” Rafayel smiles, Caleb notes the way his eyes narrow at him momentarily.

“Likewise,” before he can say anything else you speak up.

“How are you and MC?” your eyes hold no ill intentions, and Caleb’s knees buckle as he remembers how kind you were, kindness he used against you. 

“We aren’t-” he pauses, eyes flickering over your face. You were so happy. Caleb’s eyes catch the necklace you’re wearing, a starfish and the letter ‘R’ dangling off a chain. He notices the cardigan you're wearing is a size or two bigger than what you usually wear, it must be his. 

You were doted on, you were first choice, loved unconditionally. You deserved that.

So instead of telling you the truth, that he and mc didn’t work out and he regrets his decision every night. Instead of telling you he’d do anything to get you back, he’d do whatever it took for you to give him just one chance, he swallows his words and gives you the best smile he can.

“We're doing good, I’m glad you found someone you deserve,” he hopes you can’t hear the waver in his voice, his eyes don’t dare glance at Rafayel. He can feel the daggers being sent his way without looking.

When you say your goodbyes Caleb has a bitter taste in his mouth, his head spinning as he watches you walk away, forcing himself to tear his gaze from you.

You smile up at Rafayel, giggling when he presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “Raf!” you gasp as he picks you up, carrying you to the car before setting you down gently in the passenger seat. His eyes soften as they look at you, face flushed as you hold his gaze, “I love you,” he mumbles. You smile widely at his words, kissing his lips gently, laughing softly when he melts into the kiss. 

You were thankful to Caleb. If it weren’t for him, you’d still be settling, you’d brush off your hurt for the comfort of others and never put yourself first. It wasn't forever, but you found yourself and your worth. 

Rafayel talks about a new exhibit he was putting on, every painting inspired by you. His words seem to fade into the background as you stare at him, a soft smile on your face. You found your forever, and you’d never have to worry about settling again.