#eventually let go of. and that if she puts in enough effort in looking out for him he will fall in love with her

[coltermorning]

A Standing Offer Pt. 2 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: When your car ends up with a minor problem, you’re forced to interact with Arthur again.

Author’s Notes: Part two of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, eventual smut

AO3 Link

~

A Standing Offer

Word count: 3418

Part Two

“That aren’t gonna buff out, Artur.”

Arthur was doing his best to ignore the Irishman at his side, sweat beginning to bead across his forehead for his efforts. He was trying hard to get your bumper back in working order, but it was proving more difficult than he’d thought.

“What is it they call insanity? Doing the same ting over again and expecting different results?”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Arthur grumbled.

“Exactly what you should doing there.”

Arthur stood so fast that Sean jumped back to avoid him. Arthur laughed at him. “What you so jumpy for? I’m just getting another cover for this buffer.”

“Oh, sure you are,” Sean said. “Very funny.”

“Unless you think I have reason to beat your teeth in,” Arthur suggested.

“Me? Never,” Sean answered, following Arthur along as he made for the part he was looking for.

“Shit, there’s reason enough to give you a good beating every day,” Arthur said, scanning the shelves on the wall. He found the right cover for the buffer machine and took it off the shelf, feeling along it to see if it would do the trick. He wasn’t quite pleased, but it was worth trying at least.

“You always this nasty toward your friends?” Sean teased.

Arthur finally turned to him. “To my coworker who won’t go work his job, keeping me from mine in the process? Yes.”

“Ahh, you love me though. Besides, I know what it is. You’re just hung up on that girl. What’s her name? Ruby?”

Arthur really could have punched him then, and John and Javier too for ever mentioning you in the first place.

“I ain’t hung up on anyone. Now go do the job you’re hired to do before I fire you myself.”

Sean let out a bark of a laugh. “You wish you could, English.” But, thankfully, he let Arthur be and went back to the old Chevy he had been assigned a week ago.

Even though Arthur’s shadow was gone, he found himself even more aggravated when he continued buffing out the bumper. The breaks in the plastic that resulted when the piece bent back into its proper shape weren’t going anywhere.

Arthur put the buffer down and rocked back on his knees, hands on his hips. This weren’t good. Either you’d need a new bumper, or you would have to come up here and confirm that you were all right with the damage. The second one was cheaper, but Arthur wanted no reason for the boys at the shop to keep ribbing him over you. It didn’t make any goddamn sense, as far as he was concerned. John and Javier were the two idiots who had cornered you in that club. He’d barely even spoken to you in comparison. But no, all he’d heard since was how sweet on you he was, volunteering to fix up your car cheap. He wished he’d never even offered.

Truth be told, Arthur didn’t quite know why he’d done it. There was the obvious, that he felt bad for all the damage his truck had caused that you would have to pay for. But beyond that, he’d told himself the minute he left the Rouge that he would block all thought of you off. True, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you that night, and also true, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d spoken to him. But it was your job to act as you had toward him. He didn’t think he’d ever have reason to see you again anyway. When he got out of his truck in all that buzzing traffic, the last person he’d expected was you, shouting at some poor girl enough to make her look like she was shrinking into her clothes. He was so amused by your change in behavior that he’d told himself right then and there to be done with it all. He couldn’t fall for a stripper who had only paid him any mind because she was getting paid to do so. So, he’d told you the damage, determined to leave it there, then the words that he would help you came spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them. And he’d regretted them every moment since.

Arthur wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his arm, knowing either way, the shape the car was in at least warranted a call. Best to get it over with sooner rather than later.

~

A number you didn’t have saved in your phone crossed your screen, distracting you from your reality TV. You would normally damn whoever it was and ignore it, but a lot of random numbers had been calling you since moving and starting a new job. You groaned loudly and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? This is Arthur.”

Well, well. You didn’t like the excitement that bolted through you one bit.

“Hey,” you said simply, not wanting to make this some big deal. Simple phone call, back to your show.

“I got a problem with your car.”

Just perfect. Couldn’t you have one relaxing day?

“What is it?”

“I got the front bumper back in place, but the breaks in the plastic won’t buff out.”

“So…”

“So you’ll either have to keep it like this or order a new bumper.”

“Oh.” That was an easy decision. “It doesn’t affect driving it, does it?”

“No, just cosmetic.”

You grinned at his use of the word cosmetic. “Easy enough. Leave it like it is.”

“Can do,” he said. And, just before you were about to hang up and go back to your show, “I’ll need you to come look at the damage and sign off on it.”

Christ. You really didn’t need to go see this man in person again. You would have to go back up there to get your car anyway, but you were hoping Arthur would already be busy with another car by then. “Can’t you just sign it for me? Take this as my personal attestation that I won’t sue you?”

“Afraid not,” he said simply.

“Ugh. Fine. When do I need to come up there?”

“It’s ready now. Anytime before five.”

“Great,” you said with as much sarcasm as you could muster. “Be there soon.”

“Bye,” he said, and hung up before you could.

“Bye,” you said in a sing-song voice, tossing your phone across the couch. This was just not what you needed right now. You were thrilled the car was done so soon, but you were determined to get this man out of your head. Going to see him at his shop, where he dressed like masculinity given form, would not help. But you sucked it up and called an uber anyway, at least glad that you wouldn’t have to inconvenience Janiyah by bumming a ride anymore.

The entire ride to the shop, you watched the traffic from the back seat and did your best to hold your tongue. But truly, you would have to move closer to the club or something. This road rage was taking years off your life.

Before you could do something stupid enough to ruin your uber rider rating, you arrived at Arthur’s shop. It was named Van der Linde Auto Shop—a mouthful of a name that you’d told them to change upon learning it. Because of it, though, you’d learned that Arthur didn’t own the place, that his last name was Morgan, and way too many other personal things about the guys who worked here. John and Javier included. The owner hadn’t been in the last time, and neither had the rest of their little gang of merry men. But today as you walked up in broad daylight, the place was crawling with them.

“Y/N,” someone called out from your right, and you squinted into the sunlight to find John. There laid another problem—because of the business with the cars and the cops, they now knew your real name.

John loped over, pausing his work on a ridiculously jacked-up truck you had a sneaking suspicion was his.

“Hey. Arthur’s just inside. Said to let him know when you got here.”

“Well, here I am,” you said, curious over John’s enthusiasm. You wondered if it was due to flattery or guilt. Most men couldn’t help feeling one or the other toward you after meeting you a second time.

“This way,” he said, sure as ever. You followed him in through the shop’s big bay doors, thinking he was likely feeling both. But you refrained from calling him on it, remembering the woman he and Arthur had been arguing about at the club. No need to insert yourself there.

“Arthur! Y/N’s here,” John called out to the floor.

You couldn’t see Arthur but heard him call out, “Give me a minute. Almost done here.”

You turned to John and smiled. “Thanks for the help.”

The scars across his face stretched as he smiled back. “No problem. See you.” Then he turned to go, and you could only laugh under your breath at his confidence.

“Yeah, see you.”

Wanting to get out of here as quick as you could, you went looking for Arthur. There were cars in the way and four other men you could see working—Javier and three others you’d never met—but no Arthur. Javier waved at you with a shit-eating grin on his face. You didn’t even want to know, just waved back. But you did spot your car near the back of the shop, so you made for it. Only, you saw sudden movement by your feet and stopped, taking in the sight of…holy fuck.

There were two work boots and a very familiar pair of well-fitting jeans sticking out from under the car at your side. Arthur was on his back on one of those stupid roller things, and the way he reached up to work on the underside of the car revealed a sliver of very chiseled, deliciously sweaty abdomen. You had two seconds to imagine your tongue on those muscles before you mentally kicked yourself and behaved.

You nudged one of his boots. “So, should I come down there, or..?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before he pushed himself out from under the car, rising up and putting those abs to work. You forced yourself not to watch them. Even though the rest of him looked just as good in a black shirt that stretched across his broad chest. He had black streaks across his arms and hands from whatever he had been doing with the car, and he started to wipe them away with a dirty rag.

“What part of ‘give me a minute’ didn’t you get?” he asked, though he sported a smug look as he said it.

You just shrugged. “You look done to me.” Not just done—hot as fuck, you thought to yourself. The way he cleaned his hands with that rag made his forearm muscles turn over, bulging. Something about the movement and the black shirt as opposed to the white one he had been in the last time...

Now that you took him all in, you realized he was undoubtedly threatening in a way that ran past the seams of his shirt and down his coarse arm muscles to his able hands. This man was barely-contained power. And yet, you still wanted it all for yourself.

“I am done,” he said. “But make no mistake, if I weren’t, you’d be waitin’.”

“You sure know how to charm a girl,” you replied lazily, easily. It was so easy to flirt with him you made a point to keep the chit chat to a minimum from then on.

He smirked and threw the rag on top of the car, rolling the contraption he’d been lying on back under the car with his boot. “Car’s over here,” he said, leading the way. You watched his ass in those jeans again, not really caring to divert your gaze. If this was the last time you saw him, it was best to take in the view.

He stopped just before your car and pointed at the front bumper. “Scratches are just there.”

You leaned down to get a better look and were pleasantly surprised. They really weren’t bad. You certainly wouldn’t be buying a whole new bumper just to fix a few pieces of fractured plastic. They were noticeable, but the thing was drivable and had two properly-shaped bumpers again. That was the best you could ask for at the price he was offering.

You straightened up and turned to him, and his gaze flicked back to your face. From where it had been on your ass.

This was a dangerous game the two of you were playing.

“Looks fine to me,” you said. “Where do I sign?”

He just grunted in response, motioning for you to follow him. You really wished he wasn’t so gruff. Rude, really. If he’d just accepted your dance back at the club, he would be gone from your thoughts entirely. But no. He had to make things difficult, like he knew you were a sucker for a challenge.

Arthur led you back to the shop’s corner office, one you noted was walled with glass. Likely so whoever was in here could see what was happening on the shop floor, though your mind went to less innocent things, like what all those workers would think of what a mess Arthur could make of you on this very desk. You shook that thought off before it could take root and looked to Arthur. He had found the form he wanted from the filing cabinet and laid it down on the desk, beginning to fill out the details of the repair. You watched his shoulders and back muscles work against the tiny weight of the pen on paper. This man really was a sight to admire.

“There, if you’ll just…sign there,” he said finally, flipping the paper around for you to sign. He held the pen out to you, and you impulsively tried to catch his gaze as you took it, but he wouldn’t look up. Coward.

You set your purse down in the chair at your side and signed. When you finished and handed him back the pen, he gathered up all the paperwork and the receipt. Then you paid and knew it was time to go or else risk getting hung up on this idiot.

“Here’s the keys,” he said, handing them over. “Try your best to drive a little better from now on.”

“Shut up,” you quipped. “Like you wouldn’t be happy to have me back in.”

He chuckled and shook his head, his face tingeing red. “Go before I charge you for keeping me from my job.”

You gave him one last long look, memorizing that handsome face, before turning on your heel. “Thank you, Arthur.”

All he said in response as he followed you back to the floor was, “Be sure to put it in reverse to back out of here. That’s the one with the ‘R’.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you shot back, though you gave him a smile and a laugh as you did, secretly hoping that just as it usually did at the Rouge, the look would linger.

~

It took you until you got out of your car back at your apartment to realize you didn’t have your purse. It, and your phone, and your wallet, were still sitting in that goddamn chair at Arthur’s shop.

You let out a groan and slapped a hand to your forehead, debating turning right around to go get it. You would need it for work tonight. But you also didn’t want to see Arthur again. You’d spent the entire ride home cursing yourself a fool for how you’d acted toward him at the shop. It was infuriating, really, how you just wanted to be done with him, but seeing him made you turn into the world’s biggest, most obnoxious flirt. You could not get involved with this man. It went against every instinct you had in your professional life. So, you did what any sane person would do when faced with such a problem and avoided it. You stomped upstairs and slammed your apartment door shut behind you, leaving that problem for a later, much wiser, version of yourself.

After eating a ridiculous amount of junk food and bingeing reality TV for the rest of the day, you finally gave in and left a little earlier than usual to go get your purse back before work. You only hoped that John or Javier or literally anyone other than Arthur would be the one to retrieve it for you when you got there.

Upon arriving, not only were you disappointed, you were debating turning right back around and leaving. It was late enough on a Wednesday night that everyone else had left for the day, and only Arthur’s gray truck remained sitting just in front of the office. Fuck.

All you could do was go in and get your shit and leave with as few words as possible, and that’s exactly what you aimed to do as you parked beside him and walked up to the door. But then you saw him through the glass office windows walking around the shop carrying some power tool, lifting his shirt up to wipe his sweat away. You watched that glorious body in silence, not moving a muscle to go inside as he used the tool to saw a piece off of a car. Fuck him and his stupid sculpted body.

Before you could move, he looked up and saw you standing there. He startled a little but set the tool down and walked over to you, opening the door. “Jesus, you trying to scare the shit out of me?”

“Sorry,” you managed. “I was just…I left my purse.”

“Oh. Where?”

You pointed inside the shop to the chair that held the tiny bundle of leather you could have burned up with the spite you felt toward it.

He held the door open wider for you and motioned for you to come in.

“Sorry about that,” you said honestly. “Didn’t mean to take up so much of your day.”

He huffed a laugh. “You sure about that?”

You stopped and turned toward him. “What do you mean?”

He crossed the room and took your purse, handing it to you in an annoyingly courteous way that made you think get out now before you do something stupid.

“Just that I’m starting to think you like my company,” he said, meeting your eye with a smile so charming that it made your flirting look pitiful in comparison.

You were lost on a comeback and settled for a simple, “I’m just forgetful is all.” Even though that couldn’t be farther from the truth—he had distracted you into forgetting your purse earlier.

“Uh huh,” he quipped. “And you just happened to be looking my way when I spotted you watching me work through that window, right?”

You felt your face heat. “Something like that.”

He really smiled now. “‘Course.”

He let the silence stretch enough for you to feel a panic you normally never did when it came to men.

“Well, thank you,” you said, turning for the door. “I owe you.”

“Nah, you don’t owe me anything. We’re even,” he said as he stepped forward and opened the door for you.

You passed him and walked into the night air, about to do the very thing you knew you shouldn’t. But you did, because he was a good person under all that toughness.

“Not even a dance?” you quipped, turning on him with a raised eyebrow.

His face hardened, his jaw clenching just a heartbeat long enough for you to know the comment had its desired effect. But then he leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms in amusement.

“You want to know why I turned you down before? Why I will every time you ask?”

Your heart started racing in a way no man had made it race in years. “Why?”

“Because I don’t pay for it. If I get what I want from you, it ain’t going to be for any money.”

You just stared at him. He stood straight and let the door fall in, retreating back into his shop. “Night,” he said without looking back. And you were left watching him go, for once the one allowing a man’s words to linger.

[bananaman-mp3]

this is probably a hot take a lot of you are not gonna like but leopika is kinda what sasusaku would be like if sasuke and sakura were actually good friends that mutually respected each other

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

Lone Warrior

summary : reader is put into emergency foster care after a tragedy , despite living with the Wayne family for a bit , reader takes it upon herself to move away and start anew since she clearly wasn't welcomed , after many years have passed Damian finally joins the family and after a particular spat w his father he finds himself in reader's room and an interest in them has sparked.

a/n : this story is a wip ( work in process )

part 2 , part 3

Reader's POV

Beginning

Everyone knows biologically , a child needs a father and mother to come into existence . Growing up I had exactly that , a mother and a father . I had what many would consider a good childhood , a mom who brushed my hair everyday before I went to school , a mother who would have prepared meals and would have read me several stories . I had a father who would pick me up everyday and let me get a treat from the nearby parlor everyday after school. We certainly weren’t rich but we had enough to make do and I was content with it - I was content with my life until life struck.

My mother got laid off from her job - it was some run down mill cashier job at an old mechanics pit stop but it brought in money no matter how grimy the place was . I remember my younger self sat in front of the television when it was broadcasted - Joker , Prince of Gotham held three hostages at gunpoint in the shops and sadly despite Batman’s efforts , one hostage suffered a car falling onto their legs - crushing them instantly - the news anchor panned their camera onto the car and how it’s green front bumper was smeared in crimson blood.

Since then mom had been home while father went to work . It was fun at first , we had dinner earlier than usual , mom started back sewing and she even took up gardening since she loved planting tomatoes in our backyard garden . Everything was good but gradually - mom began feeling trapped like a bird in a cage . It started off slow - mum and dad arguing every night after dinner , sneering at each other as they walked past one another . It evolved into dad sleeping on the couch and mom sleeping in their bed . I was young and too naive - I assumed like the silly little girl I was , that mum and dad were just arguing about the dishes in the sink.

One day, it got extremely bad. It was a Tuesday morning and I had ran into mum’s arm’s , comb in hand, waiting for her to brush my hair like every other morning but instead she screamed at me to get out of her face . I ran away, of course, crying and brushing my own hair since then. Every day since that point had been utter agony - mother grew even more distant - began shouting , screaming at everything and everybody .Every day was a new struggle , she had no luck finding a new job, and there was no luck of her getting any better .

One day , dad just hugged me before he left out the front door . He kept muttering ‘sorrys’ and ‘i love yous’ and he kept weeping . I recall hugging him back , telling him it was okay, and he just smiled at me and left . He hadn't come back since. Mother grew furious that night, and for the first time - she screamed at me , blamed me , cursed me , cried about how I ruined everything, and then she choked me . I remember my young , frail body clawing at her tight grip desperately - pleading with her to let me go, but she didn’t let up . She kept squeezing me, and I remember going in between conscious and unconsciousness - I remember hearing police sirens blazing in front of our house.

I don't remember anything after that point . Memories were all a blur, but I recall a police officer handing me off to Mr. Wayne at his porch step. I remember the look of uncertainty, the look of pain and burden flashing in his eyes when he looked down on me . I remember him holding me by my elbow and guiding me through his foyer until he reached his butler.

I watched them both converse , the butler glanced at me every other moment. Eventually , Mr. Wayne leaves me alone with the butler and returns deeper into the mansion. The butler smiles down at me, though, and I just looked at him as he guides me down some halls and into a room.

It's been a full week , I've only ever known my room , the garden, and school. I haven't met anyone besides Alfred - the butler and my teachers. Alfred kept assuring me that I had brothers who would love to meet me and that my 'dad' , Mr.Wayne was busy, so I should bear him patience.

I hadn't really cared about Mr. Wayne's absence , as far as I considered my father, was out there somewhere and had left me, and I had no interest in having siblings. I hadn't told Alfred any of that, though - I had been silent since I had arrived here . Two weeks passed, and Alfred introduced me to someone named 'Ricard' , Mr. Wayne's eldest .

This Richard had given me a tight-lipped smile and a half hug that I didn't reciprocate . I could tell he felt uncomfortable and forced, and I respected his boundaries because I would of reacted the same way if I got introduced to my new supposed 'sibling' .

Alfred had told me that Richard lives away and visits when he can since he too has work . Since then, I haven't met anyone . Maybe if you count seeing Mr. Wayne walking in and out the foyer then maybe .

Months passed, and it's been the same process - I wake up , scarf down whatever Alfred makes , go to school , come home , sleep, and repeat. Now and again, Richard may perhaps drop by, but our meeting were just exchanging pleasantries before we go our own ways.

I was still mourning my parents. It's weird to mourn when they aren't dead. Today I had I.T class , meaning I had access to a laptop . Using what minimum sites I could , I dug up that my mother was admitted to Arkham asylum and was deemed ' mentally unstable ' . It's weird seeing her in that old , grimy straight jacket and her worn hands in silver cuffs . It's weird that she is the same person who used to bake me fresh cookies when I was sad and used to so attentively braid my hair everyday - It's weird to know that somehow my pure , kind mother somehow turned into what she is.

I hadn't found out nothing about my father - reports just suggested he moved to another city or somewhat - some speculated he manipulated her into the abuse - but I knew my father went far away to start a new life - a new life that hadn't involve me .

It stings every time I think about that, though , that my dad thought I was so much of a burden he had to leave me to start anew . A part of me loathes him - wants to tear him out , another part of me wants to cry and scream ' how could he ', but the biggest part of me has already grown numb to everything around me and has accepted the fact that it's better off being on your own.

Months continue to pass on - nothing really changed , I haven't 'bonded' with anyone at the mansion , Alfred keeps making excuses for their wariness and coldness. I discovered through him that recently, one of Mr.Wayne's children , Jason, had recently passed due to a mishap with the Joker . He hadn't gone into full detail, but I understood the pain and grief - the pain of losing your loved ones and having to bury them.

Days blurred into one another, but as recently, I have been seeing advertisements for a youth camp. It's new to be supposedly based in Russia and aims to teach children survival skills, and for some odd reason, it called out to me . I became further intrigued when on one particular evening , my English teacher pulled me across after class and handed me a pamphlet for it , I remembered her saying " I thought ...maybe you can use this Y/N maybe they can help you " . I remember taking it home and staring at it for a good while.

That same day - apparently we got a new member to the family named Tim , I saw him walk in the foyer , Mr. Wayne's hands practically draped over his shoulder with a proud 'dad' smile on his face . I exchanged pleasantries with both, but the Tim guy was giving me a dirty look .

After that night , after careful consideration, I decided to join this youth camp but in order to do so I would of course need money so that very nigh I applied to some jobs . A week passed since Tim and I didn't really get along . He kept glaring at me, and I just kept ignoring him .

Apparently he didn't like that and one morning when I was leaving for school he pulled me across and with a nasty snare said , " can't believe Bruce and I bust our asses every night protecting the city and people like you get to squander away - you know for someone who uses so much of Bruce's resources I don't understand why he hasn't gotten rid of you ".

I slapped him in response and walked out - I won't and don't tolerate shit - especially from someone so far up their ass . Alfred walked in on us in the foyer and began lecturing me on the spot, but I had a cold, hard look - challenging him . Alfred just tutted and carried us both to school.

Yes - apparently, this Tim person goes to the same school as me, and I had to listen to him nag Alfred about it on the way there . I rolled my eyes - seriously, he sounds like an entitled brat . Alfred dropped us off . The moment Tim stepped foot in school lots of kids approached him - probably because it was publicly known he was a Wayne , I on the other hand wasn't- hell I didn't even take his name I still kept my father's surname .

I left him and continued my day like normal, and after school, I went to my waitress job on the block. It's a quaint little cafe waitress job . It was nice and had good pay, so I wasn't too bothered. Of course, a week into my job and Tim had to already cause a scene .

The brat had to walk in with his group of little friends and had the audacity to demand I get them a table . I sat them down, took everyone's orders, and this man had to order some complicated shit with absurd add ins. Why order expresso and complain it's too bitter ?? Why order no flat decaf when decaf is already flat ? Why , when I explain to you , you snare at me .

The brat even had the audacity to say ' I was embarrassing the family by working here ' . I stepped on his foot, causing him to flinch and whispered to him , " Frankly I don't give a fuck what you or anyone thinks or has to say - you can frankly kiss my ass and see if I could care " and walked off .

He didn't leave a tip sadly and walked out of there with a nasty glare . I came home that evening and met Alfred, leaving out my dinner in my room , " Master Wayne restricts you joining dinner tonight since you are behaving too violent." I just gave him a look . For one pathetic of Tim to tattle to Daddy darest - another many reasons why I don't want siblings and secondly I've never joined anyone at dinner , I live and breathe in this room and unless the mansion is burning down I won't leave it to go anywhere unnecessary.

Months like this pass , Tim and I glaring at each other. Occasionally, Richard stops by to check on Mr. Wayne, or simply hang out with Tim and I was steadily saving money to go to this youth camp.

On my final day , I paid off for the youth camp registry and began packing my things - I simply began packing my clothes , I left behind any things deemed unnecessary like my record players , little nicks and knacks friends gifted me , the very painful photos of my parents and I and the home sewn clothes I once made in tech Ed.

Everything held very little value to me here , especially since I wanted a fresh start there . I packed my bags that night and left without a trace. Downtown Gotham was dangerous but had useful people for the wrong things. I carefully knocked on a banged up door and waited .

I heard a latch move itself and a wrinkly , obese man peers through at me . " What you want, kid?" he grunted . " A passport and a straightway ticket to Russia tonight," I say monotonous. He stared at me for a moment and left . Moments pass and he returns and slips me a passport and a ticket . I let our a small grun before slipping a $100 dollar bill in the latch before taking off in the night.

Training

Russia was cold - but for some odd , maybe sick and twisted way, I loved it . I loved the feeling of the cold nipping at my fingertips , I love the ghostly feeling when the cold air blows in you and I love the way it makes me feel alive .

The youth camp was a successful idea - marvelous even . Though many in my unit complained about how strenuous the training was , I enjoyed it . Every morning , from 4 am to 6 am , our mentors took us on a two hour long jog in the snowy forest of Cheremkhovsky .

It was hard at first , I had literally fainted on my first go, but as I eased into this , it became easier . After that jog , we had breakfast, and then we trained in our combat , hand to hand , handling weaponry such as guns and knives, etc.

My mentor , Kerry Lenz, took me under her wing when I joined . She saw my raw potential, my greedy need to feel alive and belonging . She had practically made me into what I am , a trained assassin .

While most of my peers were asleep in the dead of night , she took me out into the forest , regardless of whether it was snowing , raining, or a massive heatwave . There, under the start nights, she taught me the art of murder , she taught me how to effectively hide a body in plain sight and taught me how to read a person thoroughly , taught me how to stalk a prey and how to notice the tiniest details no matter how absurd .

She taught me like a mother hen would to her chick, and it made us closer. I came here to Russia at fourteen, and now here I am, graduating at eighteen into Russia's CIA program.

She kissed both of my cheeks that day and hugged me, and for once , I reciprocated it . " My beautiful rose , be the strong daring girl I taught you to be," She sobbed into my shirt . I smiled and hugged her , my eyes brimming with tears as I nuzzle into her shirt - her smell of rose scented perfume and Columbian cigar wafted into my nose .

" I promise to be that strong girl , mom," I promised her that day . She smiled at me and patted my shoulder . " hun , this life is a life you can't back away from , it digs its claws into you and keeps you hostage, promise me , you would not deter."

I nodded into her and tightened my hold on her . Since my graduation , I , out of the twenty five candidates at the youth camp , graduated into Russia's CIA task force . Our missions were never easy , every one we face the brutality of human nature - from sex traffic rings , child predators , serial killers to huge organizations abusing civilians , we were tasked to handle them all.

Every mission had its difficulty, a loss albeit one of our own or a victim, or maybe it's the mind-numbing pain of killing . Every mission had its fair share of shit but that didn't deter me one bit - I loved my job - I lived knowing that when I killed another child predator that I saved another child.

What's the use of arresting them in a system we're they are bound to be free and face no repercussions? Doing this job made me look at persons like Batman and his folk and a bit differently - he knowingly puts people like the Joker back into the Arkham asylum, knowing they'd break out and wreck havoc again.

Damian's p.o.v

If anyone told me that I of all people would feel out of place I would laugh at you . For my whole entire life - I've been a man sure of everything - down to the nitty things - I've been sure of everything.

I knew what I liked to eat , what shirt I wore with its specific pants , what show I like to watch , knew for certainty I wanted to be Robin but here - in this family I'm at a loss.

I'm always cleft confused and rather frustrated . My father's eldest , Dick , keeps lecturing me about how 'violent' my ways are , how I'm not suited to be Robin , that Robin is not 'violent'.

How is a boy supposed to believe the methods he's had instilled in him from birth are considered wrong - considered too orthodox. We both always argue - he always pushes me to my wits end . Today, though - today, he took it a notch further .

Today he involved father in our spat . It was a simple situation - a simple stake-out , a robbery being done in some small local supermarket , the robber noticed us before we noticed them and took off running and I had simply launched a batrang into his leg to stop him.

It led to the robber bleeding out in the road and almost dying, but wasn't the objective met ? Father and Dick seemed to think otherwise considering I was berated for it for fifteen minutes straight.

But what got me was when dick said , " You're a monster like your mother." I literally launched myself at him - almost prying out his eyes but father managed to pull me off and send me off to my room with a glare.

I didn't go to my room - I was far too angry, so I just roamed around the mansion . I have never been to this side of the mansion - to be fair, I don't even think Alfred ventures down here, but somehow - the quiet halls bring a bit of peace to me .

I walked down a hall and stopped at a door left abit ajar - weird I thought all doors in this house automatically closed . Approaching it , I carefully opened the door and peer in , inside - inside looked like a bedroom.

The bed looked like it was purposely shoved up against the window , it only had two pillows but frankly sat plush in-between them was a small plushie of a penguin. The room held minimum decor - whoever lived here may have been a minimalist or has long since moved on .

It had a quaint dark oak desk covered in dust and had several stacks of books that looked well used . Next to it was a wardrobe in matching oak that had a red,very worn , backpack hung on it's round handle . The room had a vanity , a cute miniature white one that every little girl must dream off , it held a simple comb and hair ties in a singular cup but the mirror was covered in old polaraid pictures.

So someone definitely lived here - but who ? I've seen Dick's room , even though he isn't here often Alfred cleans it and he has those stupid posters all over , it can't be Tim's either because his room is all dark and has a bunch of clothes strewn around , it's clearly a girl's so Cassandra? No she's too neat for this - steph ? No , I remember her decorating her room with pink frilly ribbons last Christmas- Jason? - no so then who -

" I see you've come across y/n's room " comes a sudden voice behind me . Turning around , I am met with Alfred, who looks around the room so - so sullen ? " Pennyworth, why such a cres- fallen face ?" I enquire . Alfred looks everywhere but me .

" This is y/n's bedroom " he says as he steps in. " y/n ?" I ask perplexed - father - hell no one has mentioned y/n to me ever .

ty for reading !!!

incorrect quotes

[leyiorr]

you and satoru decide pretty quickly that you want your daughter’s ears pierced.

she’s a gorgeous baby; bright blue eyes and soft white hair just like her father. her nose and lips are your genetic touch, and satoru insists that it’s your features that make her look so adorable.

you’d asked your husband what he thought about getting her ears pierced so young, and obviously he thought it was a great idea - his two favourite girls should match earrings.

and so, once she’s old enough, the two of you bring her to a store to get her ears done.

satoru has her sat on his lap, entertaining her as you spoke with the piercer about the placing and colour of the earrings. he talks to her like he can understand her baby babble; no one understands his daughter better than he does.

eventually, the time comes, and the piercer lines up the piercing gun with your daughter’s ear after marking the spot with temporary ink. she’s giggling gleefully, trying to grab hold of the piercer’s hair.

satou’s anxiety is on high, he doesn’t want his daughter to flinch and cause an injury that no one wants. the peircer seems nice enough though, and her friendly smile coupled with your hand on his shoulder and his baby’s laughter settles his nerves marginally.

but he speaks too soon.

the minute the metal pierces her skin, your daughter instantly breaks into tears, twisting her small body toward her daddy as she lets out dramatic screeches of pain. satoru’s heart sinks immediately, large hands gently trying to soothe his daughter - her tiny ones fist his shirt like a lifeline.

she cries and cries like she’s dying, and satoru feels his soul bleed.

“daddy’s sorry, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “it’ll go away soon. i wish i could help you, sweets.”

but she’s having none of it, crying harder when he tries to put her back into position. he feels his own eyes sting; his heart aches from being unable to take away his precious daughter’s pain.

his eyes snap up to your face, hoping you’ll have some insight on how to help her. you’re smiling fondly, softly pinching her cheeks in effort to distract her from the pain.

“don’t be dramatic,” you scold sweetly, dropping into a crouch to press sloppy kisses to her chubby cheeks.

she hiccups, letting her father’s shirt go in favour of trying to grab your nose instead. her cries turn into wet giggles within a few seconds and satoru feels relief fill his veins.

you look up at him with a raised eyebrow, “i mean you, mister.”

it takes him a full second to realize that there are tears rolling down his face, and he quickly wipes his eyes in embarrassment. he hears the piercer giggle; may the ground open up and swallow him whole.

“you’re such a baby,” you say, but your heart felt so full - your husband just cried at his daughter getting her ears pierced? you were never going to let him live that down.

satoru doesn’t say anything, obediently allowing you to tilt his head back to meet you in a kiss. through the salty taste of his tears and your fingers holding his throat he doesn’t even notice when the piercer approaches again, quietly lining up with the other dot.

she looks to you for consent, and you give a subtle nod as you continue to distract your husband with kisses. he breaks it in surprise when he feels your daughter flinch, though this time there’s no wails.

he looks down. her face is scrunched up in effort not to cry, cheeks puffed up as she looks up at her father proudly as if to say: look, daddy, i didn’t cry that time!

he feels his eyes fill up again. his head drops to rest on his daughter, kissing her all over her face and eliciting a series of giggles.

“that’s my girl,” he boasts proudly, grinning wide while bouncing her on his knee, “i knew you could do it!”

he hears you laugh from the counter, “you cried the most, satoru.”

he scoffs, picking the baby up and nuzzling his face against hers, “i don’t know how you didn’t! her cries broke my heart!”

[pathologicalreid]

christmas (baby please come home) | s.r.

in which Spencer isn't home to put his kids to bed on Christmas Eve, but they wake up to a surprise on Christmas morning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: spencer's first post prison christmas, frankensteined the plot of "surface tension", the same family as "here with me", crying, christmas word count: 3.19k a/n: merry christmas!! this is kinda like my gift to you, mostly since it's been sitting in my brain for forever!!!!!!! i love u all! also happy first day of hanukkah if you celebrate <33

“But Daddy’s not home,” your daughter whimpered as she shuffled under her covers, she looked up at you with wide, curious eyes.

You carefully smoothed out the top of her floral comforter, “I know, baby,” you whispered, reaching up to pinch her cheek affectionately. You’d let them stay up late to watch the Santa tracker, but eventually, Finn fell asleep on you, and Livvy’s yawns were enough to convince you that it was bedtime. “You still have to go to sleep. Santa will come whether Daddy’s home or not, and we’ll just do the gifts from Mommy and Daddy when he gets back.”

At three years old, Olivia was beginning to understand Spencer being gone the same way Eleanor did; she knew his absence was entirely out of her control, and that didn’t sit well with your middle child. You knew you had gotten incredibly lucky when Spencer had been home for Finn’s birthday and Livvy’s had fallen during his sabbatical, but you also knew that you were due for a missed holiday, you just wished it could’ve been Thanksgiving or New Year’s.

You kissed her forehead before leaving, making sure to leave the door open a crack so the monsters wouldn’t get her before you went to Nell’s room. “Hey, honey,” you whispered, closing your eldest’s door behind you before going to sit on the edge of her bed. She had her own Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room, the artificial purple tree providing the glow that her nightlight normally would. “Are you ready for bed?”

Nell was lying on top of her covers, staring at her still ceiling fan as she ignored your question. While Livvy was just starting to understand what it meant when Spencer was gone, Nell understood it best, and she had for years now. She’d understood when Spencer was in prison, and she understood that he was missing Christmas now.

Slowly, you laid down next to your daughter, propping your head up on the bed and smoothing her hair back. “It’s still Christmas,” you tried to reassure her, but part of you knew that it was a thankless effort, there was nothing you could tell her that would fix her father’s absence. “We can call Dad in the morning while we open presents,” you offered, hoping she’d appreciate you coming halfway. “If he’s not busy, maybe we can video chat, and you can show him everything Santa brought you.”

“It’s not the same,” she told you, furrowing her brows and turning away from you on the bed.

Sighing, you pressed a kiss to the back of her head, “I know, Nellie. I know it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to be here for Christmas, but Daddy will come back.” There was a sense of urgency in your voice; you were afraid that if your five-year-old lost the joy in Christmas, you’d somehow failed her as a mother. “He’ll be home for your birthday, I promise,” you whispered.

“You can’t promise,” she reminded you, knowing that you and Spencer were generally very specific about your promises, leaning toward the ‘I promise I’ll try’ variety.

You hummed in response, “I’d pinky promise you that. Dad will be home for your birthday.” You held up your pinky finger, waiting for her to roll over and reciprocate.

Eleanor rolled over, holding up her pinky finger while brown eyes watched you apprehensively, “Okay,” she breathed, hooking your fingers together and kissing them.

As soon as Spencer told you about the bureau’s contingency to him returning to the BAU, you’d done the math. Eleanor’s sixth birthday would fall near the beginning of his next sabbatical, so you didn’t hesitate to make this promise. “It’s time for bed, my girl,” you whispered, smiling at her softly as she pulled the sleeves of her Christmas pajamas over her hands. “Santa can’t come if you’re not asleep,” you reminded her, sitting up on the bed and getting up, tucking her purple comforter under her chin before you made your final stop of the night.

You’d brought Finn to his room before getting the girls settled, but now that you knew they were alright, you came back to his room. The white noise machine was going, and he was fast asleep in his crib. His pacifier, which you were trying to wean him off of, had fallen from his mouth and onto the sheets, so you set it to the side. To you, the second Christmas was always more exciting than the first, now that he was fourteen months old, he had the dexterity to help open presents.

Ruffling his hair, you kissed him goodnight, just like you’d done with the girls, and you left his room, closing the door so that no one would disturb the light-sleeping baby.

There was a late night ahead of you, but first, you settled yourself onto the couch in the living room and pulled out your phone. Upon opening your messages with Spencer, you couldn’t help but be disappointed to find that there was nothing unread. You thought about sending him a text telling him that you all miss him but eventually decided against it. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty. At least, no more guilty than he likely already did.

You turned on the TV, quietly playing a Christmas movie as you began the festivities. All of the gifts had been expertly hidden in the master bedroom, split between being shoved under your bed and in your closet, but a new playhouse for the girls had been dropped off earlier. It was too big for your room, so your parents had stored it in their basement in the interim.

That would be a struggle to bring in from the garage, so you decided to start small, pulling all of the kids’ stockings from their hooks and laying them out on the floor before going upstairs to get the stuffers.

With the movie playing, you filled the stockings with treats and little toys. A few times you imagined your phone buzzing, but each time there was nothing on the screen. The loneliness started to set in as you rehung the stockings, making sure the kids’ names faced forward above the fireplace.

This wasn’t your first Christmas alone, Spencer had been in Idaho for Olivia’s first Christmas, but neither of the girls remembered it.

They’d remember this one, you thought to yourself, walking back up the stairs to grab a load of boxes. Thankfully, they were already wrapped, but you did have to avoid getting ribbon in your mouth as you carried the armful of gifts down the stairs.

Masterfully, you adjusted them beneath the tree, trying to visualize where they’d all end up in the end as you heard something distantly, but you brushed it off as someone leaving your neighbor’s holiday party. You stood up, wiping your hands on your pajamas as you evaluated your handiwork, shrugging before you turned around for the next load, “Oh,” you breathed, watching the handle on the door from the garage turn.

The door opened slowly, revealing your husband on the other side, his black peacoat draped over his arm and purple scarf looped around his neck. He hooked his car keys on the key hook before he noticed you, brown eyes finding your pajama-clad figure. His lopsided smile was all-knowing as always, he knew he had surprised you. In fact, it had been his goal.

You remained exactly where you were, watching him from the den as he put his shoes away and hung up his outerwear. It was almost as if you’d convinced yourself he was a mirage, and any sudden movements would cause his visage to dissipate. “Hey,” Spencer said, cocking his head at you as if he were confused why you hadn’t come any closer to him. He peeked around you to look at the tree, “Did the kids get to bed okay?”

Instead of answering him, your body naturally responded to what seemed like the miraculous appearance of your husband by producing tears. At first, they just welled along your lash line, but as they started to fall, you buried your face in your hands.

Spencer was there, not only in the house but also taking the initiative to approach you, he wrapped his arms around your torso, taking your tearful form under his care, “Is everything alright?” He asked, slowly dragging his hand up and down your spine, humming as you reciprocated his embrace and pressed your face into his shirt, drying your eyes and taking in the moment.

“Everything is wonderful,” you responded, your voice muffled by his shirt. He smelled like stale dark roast and the jet, but you were too relieved by his arrival to truly mind.

Tightening his grip briefly, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Right, well. You’re crying, so I had to make sure,” he murmured, swaying gently to the music coming from the film.

You loosed a breath of relief, “I can’t believe you’re here. The kids were miserable at bedtime, Nell wouldn’t even talk to me until I told her you’ll be home for her birthday,” you informed him, keeping your arms wrapped firmly around him while you tipped your head back to see him.

Spencer nodded in understanding, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “We made the arrest at eight and wrapped up around nine. Somehow, Emily convinced the pilot to leave in the middle of the night, and we were on the jet by ten. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent holidays in worse places, but I’d rather be here with you than in Milwaukee.”

“I will kiss Emily Prentiss on the mouth,” you told him candidly.

He raised his brows curiously, “Mhm, and what about me?”

Grinning, you pushed up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his, an amalgamation of a welcome home and a Merry Christmas kiss, but you pulled away before you could get carried away. “Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid, we have work to do,” you told him, taking on a mock seriousness as you nodded your head toward the Christmas tree, which only had a fraction of your kids’ gifts beneath it.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Spencer reciprocated, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “Let’s get started.”

Spinning out of his grip, you found you had much more pep in your step with his arrival, beaming as the two of you went through the house as quietly as possible, gathering the gifts for the kids without rousing any suspicion. Even grabbing the playhouse from the garage didn’t seem like as much of a task with him around.

You adjusted the stockings as it neared two in the morning, Spencer returned from upstairs with the last few gifts, having changed his clothes into pajamas that neatly matched yours—a family set that was a gift from your Penelope. “They look great,” Spencer assured you, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he stood back, admiring your handiwork.

Walking backward until your back was against your chest, you tilted your head to the side, appraising the mountain of gifts beneath the tree, “Do you think we went overboard this year?” Between the gifts from Santa and the gifts from the two of you, the heap was rather intimidating.

“No,” Spencer answered, “bigger kids, bigger gifts.” He put his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head, “besides, they’re good kids.”

You hummed in response, leaning into him ever so slightly. Part of you felt like Spencer was still experiencing guilt surrounding the three months he spent away from you and the kids while he was in prison. No amount of time at home or therapy would ever absolve him of that guilt, but it never hurt to try, “Hey,” you whispered up to him, “I got you something.”

He frowned down at you, “I thought we said no gifts this year?”

Scoffing, you walked over to the home office, “We say that every year and neither of us ever stick to it, so go get whatever it is you got for me.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but even so, he made his way upstairs to where you knew a gift was hiding in his bedside table. Upon his return, he faltered at the large box you’d placed on the coffee table and held up the small box in his hands; you beamed at him as he eyed the behemoth of a present.

He handed you the smaller box, instinctively, you admired the wrapping before starting to open it, recognizing the jewelry box before you had even discarded your wrapping paper. “Oh, Spence,” you said, looking at the necklace in the box, a dainty chain with five small gemstones on it. His birthstone and yours, followed by Nell’s amethyst, Livvy’s sapphire, and Finn’s tourmaline all strung next to each other, “it’s perfect,” you told him, lightly touching the gems with your fingertips. You’d mentioned wishing you had an everyday necklace a few weeks ago while getting ready, and he must’ve been listening more attentively than you’d thought.

Finally, you had him open his gift, and he was entirely speechless as he opened the cardboard flaps. His mouth gaped as he lifted one of the books in his hand, the title and edition identical to one that had been previously ruined in your house. “Fuck,” he cursed, looking from you to the books and back again.

You shrugged, “It’s not all of them, but a pretty good amount of them. Some of those editions are proving difficult to recover, but I’ve—” You’re cut off, startled by Spencer pressing his lips to yours. “I’m still looking for some,” you said breathlessly once he pulled away.

Spencer seemed unsure of what to do with himself; you’d managed to find replacements for three-fourths of the books that had previously been burned by an accidental fire set earlier this year. The only time your marriage had ever been on the rocks was when Diana lived with you, but even then, you’d been planning this surprise. “You are…” Spencer started, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, “This is incredible,” he told you, shaking his head in disbelief, setting the book down in the box and nearly tackling you in a hug.

Laughing, you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound, “I love you,” you murmured to him, his body now next to yours on the couch.

“I love you too,” he said, looking at you with glassy eyes. “Wow,” he said, sniffling, “I need to get you something else. A necklace isn’t enough,” he told you, likely already thinking of options for addendums.

You shook your head, “Trust me when I tell you that your being here is worth all of the rare books in the world to me,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair. Humming, you adjusted your head on the pillow, “Are you gonna fall asleep like this?”

He nodded, “If you keep playing with my hair like that. How long do you think we have until they wake up?” He asked, keeping his eyes closed while you peeked over him to check the time.

Last year, Finn had woken up the whole house on Christmas Day at four in the morning, and seeing as it was nearing three, you wondered if it was worth sleeping at all. You continued combing through Spencer’s hair, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“This is a really great couch,” he mumbled, already falling asleep on the couch, leading you to grab the blanket that was thrown over the back and haphazardly drape it over the two of you.

Unfortunately, it felt like you’d gotten no sleep at all when you heard the first stirring upstairs, “Mommy,” Olivia called out, which would likely wake up Finn and Nell.

You got up from the couch, waking up Spencer in the process. Your poor husband, who was probably already running on little sleep, got up and folded the blanket you had been using, returning it to its home while you went upstairs to get the kids.

Livvy’s eyes went wide when she saw you come from downstairs, “Did Santa come?” She asked you, nearly bouncing with excitement.

As you expected, the door to Eleanor’s room swung open, revealing your sleep-deprived five-year-old in her rumpled pajamas, “Yes, Santa brought gifts for everyone,” you answered, ruffling her hair before going into Finn’s room, hoping to wake him gently before the voices did a less delicate job. “Hi buddy,” you whispered, looking back to see the girls gathered at the door, completely unaware that their dad was waiting for them downstairs. “Merry Christmas,” you said softly, his scrunched face not processing what you were saying, but happy to see you, nonetheless.

You picked him up from the crib and herded the girls to the stairs, letting them lead the way down while you carried the baby. Right behind them, you watched the realization dawn on their faces as soon as they caught sight of Spencer, “Daddy!” Nell shouted, leading her little sister as they ran to him.

Laughing lightly, you let a squirming Finn down, running to Spencer in the same way the girls just had. From a distance, you watched as all three of your kids entirely bypassed the gifts under the tree and on the mantle and went straight to what was more important—their father was home for Christmas.

Spencer crouched down to get Finn, and at the same time, Livvy jumped in excitement, leaving Spencer falling backward and sitting on the ground while the kids formed a less-than-graceful dog pile on the floor. You took that as your cue to join in on the festivities, kneeling on the floor next to the familial pile, uncontrollable giggles emanated from everyone involved.

You wrangled the two littles in your arms, giving each of them dozens of kisses and receiving more laughter in return as Eleanor settled down. Your eldest took her moment of alone time and laid her head on Spencer’s chest, the grin on her face overtook the rest of her face, “Best Christmas ever,” she whispered before rolling off of him, Spencer instinctively lifting his hand so she doesn’t hit her head on the leg of the coffee table.

Nellie sat up giving you a toothy grin, sticking her tongue through where she was missing a front tooth. Everyone took notice of Olivia pointing at the tree, her mouth shaped like an “o” in awe, “Can we open that one?” She asked, pointing to the largest present in the stack—which, of course, had her name on it.

“Stockings first,” Spencer said, leading to a pout from your middle child, but it was quickly wiped away when he kissed the crown of her head. Your husband got up first, taking Finn from where he was tucked into your side, and set him on his hip, “Okay, who wants their stocking?”

Everyone’s hand went up—including yours.

[ellswritings]

Double-Booked

Seth Rollins (Colby Lopez) x reader

TW: Enemies to lovers, one bed trope, real names are used simply because I can. Smut!!! Minors DNI!!!!! PnV, creampie, choking (if you squint), pet names used (sweetheart, slut, etc), dirty talk, oral (f receiving), aftercare. Okay I think that’s it, but please tell me if I missed anything. This is my first ever time posting smut (it was a struggle frfr), but I’m always open to constructive criticism. I hope yall enjoy!

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

It had been a long week.

With SummerSlam fast approaching, Y/N has been operating at one-hundred percent at all times. Her foot has been on the gas pedal, desperately needing to win the women’s title. With the way her story has been playing out, Paul Levesque had already assured her that the match would ultimately work out in her favor, and even lead to a bigger match during War Games season.

Things are on the up and up, that’s why she doesn’t mind putting in the extra effort. Staying a few hours later than the other stars to run over certain moves, spending more time with the writers to fine tune her story, cutting more promos, even making extra appearances on SmackDown when she’s signed to the Raw roster. It’s all been paying off.

The only time she regrets it in the slightest is on nights like this. She has to catch a red eye flight out of Knoxville Tennessee to get to Cleveland Ohio for a charity event on Sunday before Raw on Monday. Some days she truly doesn’t understand how she does it. Eventually she knows she’s going to run out of gas, but thankfully, that day hasn’t come.

The plane ride itself was uneventful. Not many people were coherent enough to bother her anyway. She didn’t see anyone else from the roster on that flight, most of them opting to take an earlier trip out. Y/N had stayed behind to do a few extra meet and greets, choosing the latest flight possible.

“Yeah, I just landed,” she says with a small huff as she walks down the stairs to find baggage claim.

“All right, well I’ll send you the address to the hotel we’re all staying at,” Paul Levesque tells her, his voice showing his lack of sleep. “There should be a rental car already waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Y/N says gratefully, grabbing her f/c bag from the conveyor belt. “You’re genuinely a lifesaver.”

“Least I could do, kiddo,” he waves off. “You did us all a favor by staying late and doing all that extra stuff. You work hard, making sure you got a rental car and a room was nothing.”

“Well, I appreciate it nonetheless,” she replies fondly. “I should be there shortly. I’ll send you a message when I get there.”

“Thank you. All right, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then. Bye.” Y/N swiftly hangs up the phone before walking over to the rental car desk and picking up her keys.

Y/N’s eyebrows rose in surprise when she came face to face with a sleek black Mazda. It looks almost brand new and for a rental, it couldn’t have been cheap. She can’t help but shake her head with a fond smile. Sometimes Paul does too much, but she couldn’t be more grateful for the man who took a chance on a scrappy woman from y/h/t.

Arriving at the hotel, Y/N was ready to collapse on her bed and get at least four hours of sleep before heading to the arena early in the morning. She walks through the sliding glass doors, her body already winding down because of the quiet music playing in the hotel lobby. She heaves her luggage along with her, shooting the concierge a friendly smile as she approaches the desk.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

Y/N places her carry-on bag on the floor, letting out a relived exhale at the release of pressure on her shoulder. “Hi, I have a reservation under L/N with the WWE.”

The woman smiles, nodding her head as she types in Y/N’s last name. “Perfect. I’ll just need to see your photo ID to verify.”

Y/N pulls out her driver’s license, quickly handing it to the woman. She continues to type as Y/N glances around the lobby. She’ll be able to enjoy the beauty of it tomorrow morning after she’s gotten some proper shut-eye. The only thing occupying her mind right now is a pillow and warm comforter. The bed upstairs is so close she can practically taste it.

“Oh…” The concierge makes a small noise of confusion, pulling Y/N out of her daydream.

Her eyes snap back over to the lady behind the screen, “Is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m very sorry Ms. L/N, but it appears the room has been double booked.”

Y/N’s face falls at the news. She sighs, but keeps a smile on her face. There’s no point in getting angry. “Oh. Well, is there any other room’s available? I can pay extra if needed. I just genuinely need some sleep.”

“Unfortunately we’re completely booked,” the concierge says apologetically. “But, this might make things a bit easier. The room is actually double booked by one of your colleagues. Perhaps they wouldn’t mind sharing?”

A beacon of hope. Y/N nods her head rapidly. She has a great rapport with all of her coworkers, she wouldn’t mind sharing a room with any of them. “That would be great!”

“It’s under the name Lopez.”

Except him.

She has a great rapport and wouldn’t mind sharing with anyone… except him.

Colby Lopez, also known by his more colorful moniker, Seth Rollins, was the bane of Y/N’s existence. The two of them have clashed since their early days in NXT. Both of them were wildly competitive and had a strong thirst to prove their worth in the company. The two of them would always go head to head whenever they could, whether if it was backstage or in kayfabe, they always found a way to go against each other. But what they viewed as competitive, many other people would consider flirtatious.

The tensions between the two of them were constantly at an all time high. Somehow their personalities in the real world contrasted and matched each other so perfectly that they couldn’t stay apart for long. And by some cruel twist of fate the characters they chose also did something very similar. They grinded on each other’s nerves in a sickeningly entertaining way that kept the fans hooked, but also kept the other coming back for more.

Y/N huffs as the woman in front of her gives the number to Colby’s room. 608. The exhausted wrestler trudges towards the elevator, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. This was not how she envisioned her night going. A quiet, peaceful room all to herself had been the goal—maybe a hot shower, an actual bed, and a few hours of much-needed sleep. Instead, she was about to step into what was bound to be a war zone.

She knows Colby isn’t going to be thrilled when he sees her standing outside of his room. He might throw a couple of insults her way, maybe antagonize her a little bit, but she’s hoping that they are both too tired to actually engage in a fight.

When the elevator doors open, Y/N feels like the ride was suddenly much too short. Part of her wonders if she would get kicked out of the hotel if she just decided to sleep on some of the furniture in the lobby. Y/N grunts quietly before continuing forward down the hallway. She keeps track of the room numbers until she stops at the one she’s been dreading the most.

608.

She stares at the number for a beat too long, still trying to convince herself that this is the best course of action. Before her mind convinces her to go back downstairs, she brings her fist to the door in front of her and knocks. SHe shifts her weight from one foot to the other, bracing herself for whatever is on the other side.

No answer.

She knocked again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

Y/N exhaled sharply, pressing her lips together. “I know you’re in there, Lopez. Open the damn door.”

There was a beat of silence, then the telltale sound of footsteps, slow and reluctant, before the door swung open.

Colby Lopez stood in the doorway, shirtless, hair pulled back in a messy man bun. Small pieces are frizzed out at the top due to lack of hair gel. She's not used to seeing his usually luscious locks look so messy. But the real head turner was when she glanced down and noticed he was wearing nothing but gray sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips.

She blinks, thrown off for a moment. She forces herself to keep her eyes above his neck and that seems to help as her usual annoyance returns at the sight of his deep brown eyes.

Colby immediately is overtaken by an expression of pure annoyance. He runs a hand over his face, eyes squinting as he still attempts to adjust to the light of the hallway. “What the hell do you want?” His voice is thick with sleep, rough and hoarse in a way that makes Y/N body tingle.

She refuses to acknowledge her own body's reaction. This is Colby Lopez, the only tingle he’s ever given her is in her fingers when she gets the irresistible urge to strangle him.

“Before you decide to throw a fit, just know… this isn’t my fault,” she prefaces before pushing her way into his hotel room. He stumbles back slightly from the sudden intrusion, his eyes blown wide as he watches her set her bags down in his space.

“I don’t remember inviting you in,” he says with his usual amount of sass. “So why don’t we take this conversation back to the door where I can comfortably slam it in your face and go back to bed?”

“I don’t need to be invited in,” Y/N shrugs, bending down to unzip her suitcase. “It’s my room too.”

His brows furrow, “What the hell are you talking about?” He snaps. “And stop– stop that,” he points to her luggage. “Stop unpacking your crap. This isn’t your room.”

“It is though,” Y/N corrects, standing back up. “The hotel double booked the room. So it’s either this or I have to go sleep in the lobby.”

“So go do that,” he replies instantaneously.

Y/N scoffs, “Are you serious? You’d really make me go sleep in the lobby?”

“Yes,” Colby nods with no hesitation.

“Okay, well… tough shit,” Y/N shrugs remorselessly. “I’m staying.”

“No, you’re not,” he points towards the door again. “Get out.”

“I have a huge match tomorrow, Lopez. I need a comfortable space to rest in.”

“So go find that somewhere else,” once again he points out into the hallway. “Because I promise you if you stay here I will make sure you are anything but comfortable.”

“Knowing I’m ruining your night is actually helping me relax already,” she says with a smug smirk, enjoying the angry fumes billowing out of his ears. “So I think maybe this is exactly where I need to be to get a good nights sleep, especially if it means you won’t.”

Colby stares at her for a moment, growing more frustrated by the second. He can see that she’s not going to leave, so he angrily slams the door, no doubt waking some of their sleeping neighbors. He tries to find any hesitation in her features, but he doesn’t. He huffs out a dry laugh, shaking his head, “This is a nightmare.”

“I can assure you I’m way worse than whatever nightmare’s you have,” Y/N counters cockily.

This is what infuriates Colby the most. She has a quick quip for everything. Her mouth is the same as her wrestling style, always having the perfect counter for what’s thrown her way. She snaps fast like a shark lurking beneath the waters. Every move is cold and calculated, meant to pierce the skin of whoever she’s going against. That’s why most people don’t like going up against her on the mic. She’s too quick-witted.

But most people aren’t Colby.

He lets out a dry chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the door. His biceps flex just enough to make it infuriatingly obvious that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You know, it’s kind of cute how much effort you put into pissing me off,” he says, tilting his head as he watches her with amusement. “It’s almost like you want my attention.”

Y/N scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Lopez. You’re just an easy target.”

Colby smirks, tilting his head slightly as he pushes off the doorframe and prowls toward her, stopping just close enough to make it feel intentional. "Oh yeah? Then why do you keep taking shots if you know you’re gonna miss?"

Y/N scoffs, crossing her arms. "I don’t miss. If anything, I just enjoy watching you squirm."

"Squirm?" Colby chuckles, his voice dipping low as he steps even closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space. "Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but if anyone’s squirming tonight, it’s gonna be you."

Her breath catches for half a second before she narrows her eyes, willing herself not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "In your dreams."

Colby raises an eyebrow and glances at the bed—singular, of course, because fate has a twisted sense of humor. "Speaking of dreams, considering there’s only one bed, and i was here first... Hope you’re comfortable sleeping on the floor."

"You wish," she scoffs, turning her back to him and grabbing her clothes to change. "I’m taking a shower. Try not to cry about it while I’m gone."

"Take your time, L/N. Just means more peace and quiet for me."

She flips him off over her shoulder before shutting the bathroom door, locking it just for good measure. She places her pajamas onto the counter. It’s a simple oversized white t-shirt and a pair of black spandex. A small sighs escapes her lips as she enters the shower, allowing the days worth of travel to be washed off of her. The hot water however does little to cool her down, her mind still buzzing from her interaction with Colby. It’s never made sense to her how one man could possibly be so annoying. Yet she found herself wanting to antagonize him. Watching him clench his jaw tightly whenever she did something to irritate him was the best part of her day.

The water cascades down Y/N’s body as she lathers herself in her lavender scented body wash. She hums a small tune as she finishes rinsing the rest of the soap off. She steps out of the shower, wrapping one of the complimentary towels around herself as she moves towards the sink. She squeezes out just the right amount of lotion from the bottle she brought with her and runs it over her soft skin, exhaling as she rubs out a knot in one of her shoulders.

Y/N loves her job, more than anything in the world, but it does take its toll physically. Yet she wouldn’t trade it for anything. She would break every bone in her body twice if it meant getting to wrestle for the rest of her life. She understands retirement is inevitable because there’s only so much the human body can handle, but she doesn’t dwell on it, choosing to focus on the present.

That’s when she remembers who’s waiting on the other side of the bathroom door. Her relaxed expression turns back into a scowl as she realizes she’ll have to deal with Colby again before finally being able to go to sleep. Her jaw clenches as she mentally prepares a series of comebacks for anything he tries to throw at her.

Y/N gently grabs her large T-shirt, throwing it over herself before pulling on her underwear and spandex. She throws her hair into a bun, pulling out two loose strands to frame her face nicely. After taking a moment to put moisturizer on her face, she finally opens the bathroom door. The feeling of serenity she built in the bathroom vanishes once her eyes land on the cocky man sitting in the lounge chair in the corner of the room.

He looks up from his phone, no doubt with something snarky to say, but the comment dies on his lips once his eyes fall on her. The constant smirk he wears drops for a moment as he takes in her appearance. The shirt somehow manages to fit her loosely yet perfectly at the same time. It hugs her in just the right places, the hem of it reaching just mid-thigh. He has to blink a few times before he finally sees her spandex poking out from beneath the large fabric.

He’s never taken the time to actually look at her like this before. Whenever he sees her at work, he is always too busy arguing with her to truly see what she looks like. She looks so natural. The e/c of her eyes is very prominent without the mascara and different amounts of eye makeup she usually has to wear at work. The muscles in her thighs are much more prominent than he would’ve thought. Every step she takes, they flex, showing how much work and training she truly puts in.

He realizes his eyes have lingered a little too long and he forces himself to look away. He just caught himself staring, but no part of him feels guilty about it. His jaw clenches as he continues to try and act normal, turning his attention back to his phone. But Y/N doesn’t miss the sudden stiffness in his posture.

“Something wrong, hotshot?” Y/N asks with a quirked brow as she puts her dirty laundry in the spare bag she brought with her. She’ll have to wash it all tomorrow after the show if she has time. Thankfully, the amenities at the hotel are free to the Superstars.

“No,” he mutters, but not before stealing one last glance at her bare legs. He looks away once more, rubbing the back of his neck as another attempt to remain causal. “Just surprised you can actually wear clothes that don’t suffocate. With how stiff you act all the time, I just didn’t think you could dress so comfortably.”

“Funny, I was gonna say the same about you,” she fires back, turning to face him as she eyes his sweatpants. It takes every ounce of self control not to stare for too long as she crosses her arms. “Considering the fact you walk out in heels higher than mine every week, woulda thought you slept in matching leopard print.”

Colby smirks, “You saying you’ve imagined what I look like before bed?” He says mockingly. “I’m flattered.”

“Oh I’ve imagined you in lots of different ways,” Y/N says, her voice dropping an octave. Hearing that sentence leave her lips catches Colby off guard. He watches as she slowly walks over to him, like a predator stalking its prey. He hates how smug she looks, but he can’t bring himself to say anything. “Like how you would look with my foot shoved down your throat.”

And the trance was broken.

He glares at her, “Feelings mutual.”

“That all you got?” She grins. “Did I throw you off your game, Lopez? You can’t think of one decent comeback?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the stench of your own mediocrity,” he says without missing a beat. Y/N’s cockiness falters and that’s all the victory Colby needs, “Was that decent enough for you?”

Y/N simply rolls her eyes, turning to walk over to the bed. “I hate you,” she grumbles.

“No, you don’t.”

Y/N stomach flips at the way he says it. Like he’s so sure of himself. Maybe he’s right. Perhaps she doesn’t hate him as much as she lets on, but she’s not going to let him know that. Instead of replying she simply ignores him and goes to pull back the covers. However, the sound of shuffling and his voice stops her.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Y/N looks at him like he’s stupid. Which isn’t really a change from her usual expression when it comes to him. “Getting in bed?” She says, feigning confusion. “Isn’t that what people do when they’re tired?” She stops herself, “Oh wait, I forgot– you probably sleep in tiny holes in the drywall ‘cause you’re a damn rodent.”

“Wow, you should really consider being a comedian. Maybe you’d have better luck there than with your wrestling career.” He insults with no hesitation, storming over to the mattress where she stands. “And you’re not taking the bed.”

Y/N narrows her eyes, “Last time I checked, you don’t own the hotel, Colby. We’re sharing the room, which means we share the bed.”

“Like hell it does,” he scoffs, yanking the covers towards him. But Y/N doesn’t let that slide before she’s pulling the sheets towards her again. “I’m not sleeping on the damn floor, Y/N.”

“Well, neither am I,” she snaps.

They glare at each other, neither willing to back down. The air crackles with unspoken tension, the kind that has been simmering under the surface for years. It’s in the way his chest rises and falls a little too fast, in the way her grip tightens on the blanket like she’s daring him to do something about it.

Y/N can’t help the way her eyes travel over his toned chest. She has to fight off the butterflies that erupt in her stomach from the way he’s staring at her. She bites the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from giggling at his scowl. If he’s angry with her now, that would definitely make it worse.

Colby watches as an unknown emotion briefly crosses her face. He’s not blind to the fact she’s blatantly checking him out, but he’s not going to point it out. One, because he had done the same to her not too long ago, two, he knows she would somehow turn it into a way to tease him. But it does catch him off guard when unbeknownst to her, she licks her lips before returning to her usual cocky expression.

He frowns as a mischievous smile takes over her face. Her fingers dance over the comforter before she smoothly slides one of her legs on top of the mattress. His chest puffs out with anger as he goes to protest, but her voice cuts him off.

“Well, if we’re both adamant about not sleeping on the floor… why don’t we share?” She suggests, raising an eyebrow.

Both of them know she’s bluffing. She would never want to share a bed with Colby, and vice versa. But even if they are both aware that she’s all bark and no bite with this threat, it still doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy making him squirm.

“I’m not sharing a bed with you,” Colby says stiffly. His jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to physically will her to move.

Y/N tilts her head, feigning an innocent expression as she bats her eyelashes up at him. “Why not, Lopez? Afraid you won’t be able to control yourself?”

Colby scoffs, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “Please. The only thing I’m afraid of is waking up to you stealing the blankets like the gremlin you are.”

Y/N hums, slowly shifting so she’s lying on her side, one leg bent just enough to make the movement look intentional. “I don’t know, Colby,” she drawls, dragging a finger along the edge of the pillow. “I think you’re scared of something else.”

He rolls his eyes, refusing to acknowledge the way his throat suddenly feels dry. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

She grins, biting her bottom lip as her eyes flick over him. “That you might actually enjoy it.”

Colby stares at her for half a second, then scoffs, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the thought. “You’re delusional.”

“Mmhmm.” Y/N stretches her arms above her head, letting the oversized t-shirt ride up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin. She sees the way his eyes flicker down for the briefest moment before he catches himself and looks away.

She has him.

“Then what’s the problem?” she presses, her voice teasing. “It’s just a bed, right?”

He clenches his jaw, taking a step back as if putting distance between them will give him the upper hand. “It’s not the bed that’s the problem.”

Y/N just smiles, barely holding back a laugh at how rigid he looks. He’s gripping the sheets like they’re his lifeline, like if he lets go, he might do something reckless.

Good. That’s exactly what she wants.

“You know, I really thought you’d be tougher than this,” she sighs, feigning disappointment. “All that talk about being a badass, being a visionary… and here you are, too scared to share a bed.”

Colby exhales sharply through his nose. “I’m not scared.”

“Prove it.”

His grip tightens. She can see the internal war playing out in his mind, the struggle between his stubbornness and whatever it is that’s making his jaw tick.

“Unless you think you’d lose control,” she adds, her voice dropping just slightly, just enough to be dangerous.

That’s when it happens.

One second, she’s feeling victorious, practically tasting the win, and then—

Colby moves.

Fast.

Before she even processes it, he’s rounding the bed, closing the space between them in two strides. Her breath catches as he suddenly looms over her, his face inches from hers. His nose brushes against hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Y/N’s throat runs dry at their proximity. Her smirk falters. This wasn’t what she was expecting.

“You really want the bed that bad?” His voice is low, rough, a challenge wrapped in something sharper.

Her heart pounds. “Uh—”

“Fine.”

Then, without another word, he grabs her wrist, yanks her forward, and in one swift motion, throws her onto the mattress.

A gasp barely escapes her lips before his mouth is on hers.

It’s not gentle. It’s not slow. It’s teeth and heat and frustration, years of back-and-forth boiling over into something neither of them can take back. His fingers dig into her hip, his body pressing her into the mattress as if he’s trying to prove a point.

She should be mad. She should shove him off.

Instead, she kisses him back just as fiercely, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. A small whimper escapes her lips as Colby bites down on her bottom lip, a silent command to get her to submit. She allows his tongue to slip its way past her lips, the feeling of it being foreign but not unwelcome. Her nimble fingers work at the rubber band in his hair, pulling it out so she can get the full experience of tugging at his long locks.

Colby moves swiftly, pinning her to the mattress without disconnecting their lips. His fingers are still digging deeply into her sides, and part of her wants it to leave bruises. That way she has evidence that this wasn’t some fever dream. That she really let the man she’s been feuding with since they met do this to her.

Y/N carefully removed her fingers from his hair, smoothly sliding them up his back. She feels him shiver under her touch, no doubt from the tension and how cold her hands always are. Colby moves his attention from her lips to the exposed skin of her neck. His lips trail downwards until he finds her pulse point. He can feel the way her heart hammers against his lips and it causes a small growl to erupt from his chest. He bites down, sucking hard as Y/N gasps loudly, her nails digging into the skin of his back. The action only spurs him on more, the feeling of her scratching him makes it all the better.

“Tell me to stop,” his voice comes out gruffly as he continues placing chaste kisses against her neck. He has to squeeze her hips to prevent his hands from wandering elsewhere. “Tell me…”

Y/N could think of one million reasons on the spot as to why she should tell him to stop. One being that they’ve convinced themselves and each other for years that they despise one another. But feeling him this way, the way he’s looking at her like she’s the only thing in his world… How could she turn that away?

“Colby…” her voice is a mix of a plea and a whimper.

He tenses, the kisses suddenly stopping. He sits up slightly, chest heaving as he closes his eyes as a way to restrain himself. Y/N’s breath hitches as she feels him twitch in his sweatpants, his erection brushing against her thigh. “Don’t fucking do that,” he warns.

Her pupils are dilated, the once bright e/c color much darker. He can see the lust swimming behind her irises and it makes it that much harder to keep himself together.

“What?” She asks him innocently.

“You know what you did,” he replies, his muscles still taut.

Y/N suddenly leans up, reconnecting their lips in one swift motion. It takes Colby by surprise, his mind not fully wrapping around what is happening. That is until she nips at his bottom lip and it pulls his mind back into focus. Or rather pulled it towards the growing problem in his pants.

“Colby…” she whimpers again, smirking slightly when she feels the involuntary spasm of his hips. Her lips start moving wherever there’s exposed skin. His neck, his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. She teasingly slips one of her fingers in and out of the waistband of his sweats and it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to rip the spandex off of her, and fuck her til she can’t walk.

He freezes when he feels her lips ghost his ear, the feeling of her breath sending chills rippling down the exposed skin of his arms. “I don’t want to stop.”

That was all he needed to hear.

He crashes his lips against hers like a man starved. Y/N can’t help the small moan that leaves her lips as his hands start roaming beyond their designated post at her hips. She could feel the tingle that was between her legs turning into a much bigger problem, her desire growing as his skilled fingers work their way up her shirt.

Her back arches into him as he finally reaches her perked nipples. He tweaks the sensitive peaks, earning a loud noise of pleasure from the woman below him. It really shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, but something about hearing how good he’s making her feel, hearing her mouth make noises that aren’t her shit-talking, it’s affecting him more than he’d like to admit.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” Colby’s voice, raspy and perfect, coaxes her. “You like to run your mouth, so let me hear you.”

Y/N bites her cheek to keep herself from giving him what he wants. Despite how good it feels, she won’t let him win. Her eyes bore into his, a teasing sparkle within them. She smirks, “You’ll have to work harder than that, Lopez.”

Colby’s eyes turn completely black. Even when he has all the control, she still has the nerve to talk to him like she has any sort of power. Y/N feels the wetness pool between her legs as his gaze shifts into one of a predator stalking its prey rather than the man she’s grown to love making angry.

A gasp leaves her as suddenly her shirt is ripped off of her in one swift motion, her spandex following shortly after. Any creative quip she could come up with dies in her throat as she’s now left naked and vulnerable in front of Colby. However, his anger seems to subside for a moment as he fully takes in her form.

He exhales, “You’ve really been hiding all of this from me? This entire time… you’ve kept all this to yourself.”

Y/N feels her face flush. She’s never felt the urge to squirm around Colby, but with how he’s looking at her like she’s the most beautiful thing, it makes her try to cover herself up. She’s not used to this kind of attention from him. However, Colby grabs her hands, pinning them above her head to stop her from obstructing his view.

“Don’t,” he growls lowly. He can see the insecurities behind her eyes, plaguing her mind. It blows his mind that she could ever think she’s anything short of gorgeous. Even while they’ve been feuding, he has never blind to the fact that she is stunning. He meets her eyes, leaning down to place a kiss on her jaw, moving up to her lips. It’s soft, much less rough than the kisses they shared just moments ago. He’s careful with her, almost reassuring her without saying a word. They break apart for a split second, his forehead pressing against hers, “Don’t hide from me.”

Y/N shifts underneath his gaze. She sees nothing but admiration on his face, despite looking for some sort of reluctance, his expression remains the same. Even though her hands are pinned above her head still, she can’t help but lean up and kiss him again. Nobody has ever made her feel as beautiful as he did with those few simple words. She never would have thought Colby would be the one to make her feel this way, to make her feel so special. If someone would have told her this morning that she would end up in bed with the “Visionary” she would have laughed and probably thrown up directly afterwards. But now… there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles against his lips.

Colby shakes his head, removing his hands from her wrists, “Don’t apologize…” He smirks, slowly moving his entire body downwards. Y/N watches with hooded eyes, feeling herself growing wetter at the sight of him kissing down her body. “Just don’t do it again.”

His lips leave no stone unturned on her body. He kisses along her clavicle, before moving towards her breasts. He can’t help himself, sucking little marks into the supple skin before popping one of her nipples into his mouth. Y/N groans, hands moving to his hair as her hips buch upwards, begging for some sort of friction. Colby chuckles.

“So sensitive…” he teases.

“Shut up,” she says with absolutely no bite. “Are you actually gonna do something or just keep stalling?”

He laughs again, now traveling down her stomach, relishing in the way she spasms underneath his touch. “I knew you’d be impatient.” He says, pressing kisses to the top of her thigh. Y/N fights the urge to force his head where she needs him the most, knowing that will just give him more ammunition to tease her.

The moment he moves his attention to her inner thigh, Y/N physically can’t stop herself as she tugs at his hair. Seth pauses immediately, lifting his head from in between her legs. He’s so close. Her chest is heaving, breathing wild and he hasn’t even given her what she wants yet.

“Don’t be a brat,” he scolds, his voice dropping an octave. “This can either be a reward or a punishment. So don’t piss me off. Be grateful for what I’m giving you.”

What he just said wasn’t as much of a threat as he thought. The idea of him punishing her is almost more enticing than the reward. Y/N bites her bottom lip, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Colby. He quirks and eyebrow, his hand inching closer to her core. Y/N decides to test her luck once more, pulling at his hair a bit more roughly than before.

Colby shoots her an incredulous look. He lets out a dark laugh, one that’s not too far off from the one he used on camera. “Oh… so you like that, huh? You want me to be rough with you?” Y/N nods along with his words, and she sees something snap within him. “Should’ve known you’d be such a slut.”

Without so much as a warning, his finger plunges into her. The intrusion makes her moan much louder than intended, her hand slapping over her mouth. She gushes around him, his filthy words from just a second ago playing their part in her pleasure. He doesn’t give her much time to adjust before he’s increasing the pace.

“I didn’t have to do anything besides kiss you and you’re already soaked,” he comments, his smirk smug as he watches her throw her head back in pleasure. He wastes no time before slipping another finger in. He groans at the sight of his hand being coated in her juices, slipping in and out with ease. “Take that hand off your mouth. I wanna hear you.”

Y/N’s eyes practically roll into the back of her head as he lowers his head, tongue going to work on her clit. Pure ecstasy is all she feels. She uses her free hand to push his head even closer to her core. Colby though refuses to give her any sort of control. He immediately pulls his mouth away, sending her a pointed look. Y/N already knows what that means.

Be grateful.

She immediately removes the pressure she placed on the back of his head, but she keeps her hands entangled in his hair. It’s a guilty pleasure being able to run her fingers through it. She waits patiently for him to continue his onslaught on her pussy, but he continues staring at her.

“I thought I just told you to take your hand off your mouth.” He starts moving his fingers back and forth at an agonizingly slow pace. “Are we already having problems with listening?”

Y/N writhes underneath him, needing more than what he’s giving. Colby responds by placing his free hand over her hips, holding her in place. He starts moving his fingers in and out of her at a much quicker pace when she doesn’t answer, “I. Asked. You. A. Fucking. Question.” He punctuates each word with a strong thrust. The final one manages to hit that special spot inside of her, causing her hand to fall away from her mouth.

“Fuck, Colby,” she cries out of pleasure, grinding more into his fingers.

“Yeah?” He grins cockily. “Right there, huh?”

“Mhm,” Y/N nods rapidly. “Please…” she begs desperately. For what? She doesn’t know.

“Please what?” He eggs on, slowing his pace once more. He loves watching her fall apart for him. “Gotta use your words, princess.”

She groans out of frustration, “Stop teasing.” She tries her hardest to sound intimidating but it comes off as more of a whiny plea than anything.

“Or what?” Colby tilts his head mockingly. “What are you gonna do?”

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Or I’ll go find someone else to get the job done,” she threatens. As soon as the words leave her mouth, she regrets even thinking it. She knew she wasn’t going to go anywhere. But that was the threat that flew out of her mouth.

Y/N feels the air she was once privy to leave her lungs as Colby lunges forward, wrapping his hand around her throat. His other hand is still playing with her pussy as he squeezes the life out of her. Colby feels her clench around his fingers, but he doesn’t relish in the feeling as his mind is too clouded by anger.

“Yeah? You gonna go find someone else to put up with your bitching?” Colby seethes through clenched teeth. “You really wanna threaten me? Nobody can take care of you like I can, and you know it. That’s why you constantly come back to try and piss me off. You know you can’t stay away from me.”

It kills her to admit it, but he’s right. Sometimes the best part of her day was messing with Colby, getting inside his head. But right now, he’s inside of hers… as well as some other places. He’s the only person who truly matches her energy in and out of the ring. And she would never admit it, at least not yet, she’s never felt this satisfied, this turned on by anyone before, and they’ve only just started.

“Isn’t that right?” He releases the grip on her neck just barely in order for her to give him a verbal response. “You know you’re not going anywhere. I’ve got you hooked, don’t I?”

Y/N nods but doesn’t say a word. Colby’s eyes flare with anger for a moment before pinching her clit. She gasps, her juices flooding his fingers again. The pain and pleasure mixing in the most intoxicating way. “Fuck! Yes, Colby. Yeah. I can’t- I can’t. You- You’ve got me.” Her response is erratic, clouded by the aura of lust surrounding them.

He grins, “Good girl.”

And within a second, his head is back in between her thighs, his tongue working on her like a man starved. His once busy fingers are now playing with the small rose bud between her labia, making her arch further into his mouth. She can physically feel his iconic smirk against her that he wears as Seth Rollins. She wants to knock it off his face, but with how good she feels, any thought that wasn’t about his tongue has left her mind.

Colby grips her thighs, keeping her in place as he continues his assault. Y/N’s head rolls back into the pillows but Colby pinching her lightly forces her to look back down. She sends him an incredulous look, but ends up biting her lip as Colby takes one long and tantilizing lick of her before sitting up enough to speak. “Eyes on me sweetheart. I want you to watch as me as I destroy this pussy.”

The way he says it keeps her in a trance. His mouth vanishes once again and Y/N does her best to keep her eyes on him. He doesn’t make it easy as his ministrations on her clit become much more rapid, his tongue moving in sync with his fingers. Y/N can feel the coil in the lower part of her belly getting tighter with each passing moment.

Suddenly, his fingers and mouth switch places, his fingers working inside her soaked hole as his tongue and lips move to her clit. “Holy shit–” Y/N gasps, her body rocking back and forth with each violent thrust.

“Squeezing my fingers like a vice,” he mumbles against her. “Can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.”

Then he looks up, his gorgeous brown eyes meeting hers. She can see the filthy thoughts swimming behind his eyes, most of them probably mirroring her own. Y/N can feel her climax approaching rapidly, trying to hold on for as long as possible. But the way he’s talking to her, looking at her, she knows it’s not gonna be long.

“Tastes like heaven… Could stay here forever if you let me.”

That’s when Colby’s eyes roll back into his head and that does it for her. Seeing him so drunk on her sends her over the edge. “Colby,” she whines breathily. “I– I’m gonna–”

“Let go,” he commands. “Come for me.”

Y/N doesn’t need to be told twice. Her body shakes as a wave of euphoria passes over her. She swears for a moment that she’s left seeing stars. Her mind is sent clear into hyperspace, the pleasure almost too much and she’s only orgasmed once. Slowly she comes down from her high and is met with a sight that could make her unravel all over again.

Seth’s beard is coated in her juices. His eyes are hooded, his mind clearly still on the dripping core in front of him. Once he looks back at her, Colby raises his finger, slowly sinking it into his mouth, groaning as he sucks off the remnants of her. Y/N’s mouth waters at the sight as he makes his way back up towards her.

“I’m definitely gonna need to make a habit of doing that,” he mumbles flirtatiously before bending down and planting his lips onto hers.

Y/N’s heart flutters at the insinuation, loving the way she tastes herself on his lips. She could get used to this. Him having his way with her and then going to work together the following day, sending teasing remarks to each other, trying to act like he hadn’t had his tongue buried inside her.

Her hands wander towards his sweats, her mind clearing enough to realize she’s the only one completely naked. She tugs at them, speaking between kisses. “Take ‘em off,” she begs in the most polite tone she’s ever spoken to him in.

Colby can’t help the small smile that takes over his lips as he continues kissing her. He never imagined enjoying having this much control over Y/N L/N. But hearing how small she sounds, begging for him, it makes him feel larger than life. “You want me to take ‘em off, sweetheart?”

Y/N nods along dumbly, her hand wandering over to the prominent bulge in his pants. She starts palming him gently, making Colby hiss. “Shit,” he mumbles. She moves her hand around him perfectly, pushing and tugging at all the right moments. For a second he forgets what she even requested of him. He could have let her keep going like that for hours.

“You want it that bad, you take it,” he whispers to her, granting her permission to remove the sweats off his body.

She wastes no time in easing the pants off his legs. It even takes Colby off guard how quickly and smoothly she maneuvers. He adjusts, lifting his leg up one at a time as she removes them. He didn’t even realize she managed to hook her fingers through his boxers, dragging them off along with his sweatpants.

His thick and being cock springs to life, smacking against his toned stomach. He might not have been the most girthy she’s ever seen, but he sure as hell makes up for it in length. Her mouth practically waters at the sight.

“Like what you see?” He teases, his ego inflating just by the way her eyes widened.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “You already know I do, asshole.”

Colby swiftly reaches down and smacks Y/N’s pussy causing the woman to flinch. She feels herself clench around the air, enjoying the small bout of pain. He kisses her roughly, biting her bottom lip, “Watch your mouth,” he whispers against her.

Y/N feels herself falling under his spell once more as the smoothness of his voice renders any sass useless. As soon as he sits up, her eyes zero in on what she really wants. Y/N shifts into her elbows to push herself up, desperately wanting to just feel him in her mouth. Unfortunately, she doesn’t get very far as Colby pushes her down.

“As much as I would love that… I don’t think I can stop myself for much longer,” he admits gruffly, kissing her neck as he tries not to rut against the firm muscle of her thigh. “Soon as I got you naked I wanted to be inside you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Y/N whispers in a tone that makes shivers roll down Colby’s spine.

In one quick movement, Colby readjusts his position before sliding his cock between her folds. He coats himself, a small moan leaving Y/N’s lips at just the feeling of him circling her hole before he finally sinks in. She gasps at the stretch and slight burn he provides, but it has to be the best burn she’s ever felt.

“Shit,” Colby hisses with a small exhale. “So fucking tight.” His hair hangs over his shoulders in a messy yet beautiful way. The corner of his lip twitches upward, an indication to her that he’s trying his hardest not to pound into her at a relentless pace. He’s giving her time to adjust to his size. Most people wouldn’t notice that little shift in expression, and to add to it, it would be extremely rare for them to know what it meant.

But Y/N knows.

As someone who dedicated most of her adult life to terrorizing the man above her, she could read him rather easily. And while she appreciates him taking her comfort into consideration, waiting is the last thing she wants to do.

Y/N laces her hands through his hair, pulling him down towards her as she roughly clashes her lips with his. She can feel him twitch inside of her as she slips her tongue into his mouth. “Move,” she commands against his lips. “I didn’t ask you to be gentle.”

Colby’s eyes darken at the instruction. He surges forward, continuing to kiss her as he pulls his cock all the way out before pistoning it back inside of her with no remorse. Y/N can’t hold back the guttural sound that leaves her as she throws her head further into the pillows.

“Oh my God, Colby!”

Her mouth falls open, any coherent thought she could have had leaving her mind. His tongue and fingers felt amazing, but this was otherworldly. She could feel every ridge and vein as he continued pounding into her. She didn’t understand how he could multi-task and continue kissing down her neck, moving to suck on her right nipple. Y/N could barely even keep her eyes open, the pleasure and Colby’s name being the only thing playing in her head.

It only gets better when she feels him sinking his teeth into every inch of her exposed flesh. It doesn’t take long for that familiar tension to build up inside of her again. Colby grabs her chin, forcing her to continue looking at him.

He’s never seen someone so beautiful even when they’re completely wrecked. He’s been with his fair share of women, even thought he loved some of them, but none of them have ever felt like this. None of them have ever made him feel the way she does. She feels absolutely perfect around him, squeezing him at just the right moments. It’s almost like she was made for him.

“Fit me like a glove, don’t you?” He grunts out, his hips stuttering as he feels his own climax approaching.

Y/N nods. She tries to verbally agree but with one strong thrust, he hits the spongy spot inside her which only permits a pornographic grown to leave her. “I’m gonna ruin you,” he tells her darkly. “Won’t ever be able to forget me. How I make you feel.”

Y/N swears she can feel her heartbeat in her head. She can only hope he fulfills that promise. The thought of walking around with a limp tomorrow because of him was enough to make her come again on its own.

“This pussy’s mine, huh? Nobody else’s.”

“All yours,” Y/N manages to get out, not finding it in her to disagree or make him work for it. “No– no one else’s,” her voice comes out shakily and that’s when Colby knows she’s close again.

“Good girl,” he mumbles, kissing her again. “You wanna come? I can feel you clenching around me.”

“Yes– fuck! Yes, yes, I wanna come. Wanna come for you,” Y/N cries out, her hands moving to his back, her nails digging deep into the skin as she feels herself unraveling. “Please, please, let me–” she cuts herself off with a gasp as he starts moving faster.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he hums softly. “Come for me.”

And just like that, Y/N’s sent back into that blissful state of hyperspace. She swears she sees stars as all of her senses are overcome with pleasure. Her vision goes black and the only thing she can hear is a dull ringing in her ears. It had to have been the best orgasm she’s ever had. Her body quakes under him and as she spasms. It takes her a minute to come to, but as she does she can still feel Colby moving rapidly in and out of her. Suddenly that feeling of overstimulation starts to take over. Tears start brimming at the corner of her eyes, but it’s out of pure ecstasy. At this rate she may come again if he doesn’t stop any time soon.

A low moan leaves Colby as her pussy squeezes him, still recovering from the hard hitting climax she just had. He can feel himself reaching that point so he leans down, kissing the soft spot behind her ear. “Where do you want it?” He asks her, his voice completely strained.

Without a second's hesitation, Y/N replies, “Inside me,” she continues raking her fingers up and down his back. “Please… Want it inside me.”

That had to have been the single hottest thing Colby has ever heard. That woke up something inside of him that he didn’t even know was there. Fortunately, he doesn’t think this will be the last time the two of them share a moment like this, so they’ll have a conversation about what he’s feeling later.

After one more strong thrust, Colby stills, spilling his seed deep inside of Y/N. He curses quietly under his breath as her pussy practically milks everything out of him. Y/N watches Colby, his eyes squeezed shut as he tries to bring himself back down to the real world. She can’t help the small smile that takes over her face seeing him like this. He looks almost peaceful.

Not putting much thought into it, she threads her hands through his hair again, scratching lightly at his scalp to help keep him relaxed. She feels him lean into her touch, his cock softening in the process. After a few more moments, his eyes finally reopen, gaze much softer than it was two minutes ago when he was dominating her.

He slowly and gently slips out of her, not wanting to hurt her in any sort of way. Y/N grins, moving one of her hands to cup his cheek. He shifts his head slightly, placing a soft kiss to her palm. This felt different, domestic almost. And neither of them minded it.

“I’ll be right back,” he says gently before moving to get off the bed. Y/N’s brows furrow as she watches him walk over to the hotel bathroom. She almost allows herself to start overthinking, but he doesn’t give her enough time to. In less than a minute, he’s walking back out with a damp washcloth in his hands.

Butterflies flutter in Y/N’s stomach at the sight. Colby climbs back onto the bed, carefully moving a few of the pillows upright against the headboard before hooking his arms underneath Y/N’a body and effortlessly sitting her up. She watches him with a certain curiosity. She’s never seen this side of him. Careful, gentle, tender. She winces slightly when he places the washcloth on the inside of her thigh, wiping up the beautiful mess they both created.

“What are you doing?” She asks him curiously, tilting her head.

Colby furrows his eyebrows. He nods down to the rag in his hands as he continues his mission, “Taking care of you?” He says it like a question, almost as if he doesn’t understand why she even asked that.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek. No one’s ever done this for her before. Every time she’s had sex or any other kind of sexual encounter, no one’s ever taken the time to care for her. Normally she showers, cleans herself, has an awkward goodbye, and leaves. So this change of pace was different. Never would she have thought that Colby would be the one to show her what she was missing.

Colby can see the thoughts swimming in her mind. He raises an eyebrow, “What? No one ever wiped up their mess before?” He asks with a small laugh, not knowing he was completely right. When he looks up and watches her look away, almost embarrassed, that’s when he realizes. “Wait… are you serious?” He scoffs at the obscurity of it. “No one’s ever–”

“No,” she cuts him off stiffly, suddenly feeling much smaller than she did before. She can’t bring herself to look back at him and that’s when Colby realizes she wasn’t joking. Y/N can feel his eyes boring into the side of her face so she tries to pull her legs away from him and to her chest, but his firm hand stops her. He grips her thigh tightly enough to prevent her from moving, but with a warmth she knew couldn’t be faked.

“Hey…” he says tentatively. “Look at me.” When she doesn’t, he lets out a small sigh before lightly massaging her legs as a way to get her to not ignore him. “C’mon, Y/N/N… please?”

The sound of her nickname catches her attention. Only a handful of people know that name, and considering they’ve been feuding since the dawn of time, she doesn’t know how he came to know it. She tilts her head, “How–”

“I pay attention,” he cuts her off. “I don’t know if you realize this, but I’ve spent the past decade of my life making your life hell. I was bound to pick up a few things,” he says sarcastically, earning a small yet reluctant grin from the woman in front of him. “There it is,” he teases. “There’s that irritatingly beautiful smile.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, feeling her cheeks heat up from the comment. She grabs a pillow, smacking him with it, “I really don’t like you right now.”

Colby shakes his head, throwing the washcloth into some random corner of the room before carefully climbing into bed next to her. He props himself up on the headboard before lifting her chin up with his finger and kissing her lovingly. Y/N practically melts into his chest as he uses his free arm to wrap around her waist, pulling her into his chest.

“Yeah, really getting the feeling you don’t like me,” he says cockily.

Y/N can’t help but scoff as she rests one hand on his stomach, shoving the other under his back to get comfortable, “It’s almost like you want me to kick your ass.”

Colby hums, “Maybe I do,” he quips before kissing the top of her head. A small best of silence passes between them before he leans his head on top of hers. “I’m sorry.”

Y/N frowns, “For what?”

“That no one’s ever bothered to take care of you,” he says, disgusted with the entire male population. “That no one’s taken the time to make sure you were okay afterwards. You deserve better than that.” Y/N meets his gaze and her heart begins to beat a little faster. Since when did he become so damn charming? …Maybe he always has been and she’s just been too stubborn to see it. “And I’m sorry for laughing.”

Y/N sits up fully, swinging one leg over his lap to fully straddle him. She collapses into his chest with a small huff, her arms wrapping around his neck as she adjusts, “You don’t have to be sorry,” she says with a small smile. She leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before resting her head on his shoulder. “Y’know, for being my enemy, you sure seem to care about me a lot,” she teases, tracing small shapes on his broad chest.

Colby chuckles, his chest vibrating which makes Y/N smile. She loves his laugh. “Yeah, I could say the same about you. Clinging onto me like a damn koala bear.”

Y/N lifts her head, quirking an eyebrow, “Oh, I can get off if that’s how you wanna play–” she moves to get off of his lap but is halted when his hands shoot out to grab her waist, pulling her right back down.

“Don’t you dare,” he says seriously before hooking his arms around her to keep her in place. “I’m comfortable.”

“Hmm,” she hums mockingly. “Then don’t talk shit if you’re comfortable.”

Colby exhales loudly, closing his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Y/N shakes her head, but doesn’t argue. She knows they have plenty of playful quarrels in the future. But for right now, she’s going to close her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his body pressing into hers. She’s not sure what the morning will bring for them, but she is certain of one thing.

She’s never been more grateful to have her hotel room be double booked.

[oneoftheextras]

lockjaw | j.t three

masterlist | help me fund my top-surgery?

paring: hybrid puppy!jayce talis x f!reader

request: after a recent breakup you find yourself adopting a hybrid to keep you company, but he's more feral than you can handle

series warnings: 18+, hybrid jayce (ears and tail), slight a/b/o traits (could argue alpha jayce), eventual smut, protective jayce, size difference

words: 7.3k

chapter warnings: size difference, a smidge of hunter/prey, and anxious reader

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

want a handwritten letter from a character? / join the discord

The following weeks were filled with interviews and background tests in between work shifts; you were mentally and physically exhausted.

The vet had pre-warned you with how many hoops you’d have to jump through, but this was more than you had previously anticipated.

They really weren't joking when they said they don't let just anyone adopt a hybrid.

Today was your home inspection. The whole morning had been spent deep cleaning every inch of your home and making it look like something you'd see walking through IKEA.

Once you were done, your apartment was spotless - a bit too spotless.

You sat down on your couch and shuffled around a bit to make it seem at least like someone lived here.

Admittedly, when they told you they would be visiting your home, you'd spent hours searching the internet for how to make your place more comfortable and appropriate.

Looking at different adoption forums to give you an idea of what the inspectors would look for as hazards and immediately removing them from your home.

Candles were bought, lit and then blown out because you didn't like the scent.

Eventually you baked some cookies and left them in the oven after reading that it was an old realtor trick to make a place seem more homely.

Never before had you made such an effort to make your home so appealing.

There was just enough time to shower and get dressed before they arrived, even then, your hair was still slightly damp at the ends when the first knock hit your door.

You gave it one last ruffle with the towel before you opened the door, not wanting to keep them waiting too long and having your first impression be one of tardiness.

"Hello!" you smiled brightly as you swung the door open, seeing the vet who introduced you to Jayce the first time - you'd come to learn that her name was Dr Nala - with a man you'd never met before. His expression was pretty stern.

She greeted you with the same enthusiasm. As she stepped over the threshold of your apartment, your heart thumped in your chest, this was the last sprint to the finish line.

"Have you been baking?" she asked almost immediately and you tried to hide the grin that crept up on your face, not wanting to seem too keen, "I have!" you confimed.

She nodded and continued to follow you through to the living room area, "I'll admit, I don't think I'm very good at it, but when you follow a recipe it's pretty simple," you rambled nervously.

You gestured to the couch for them to take a seat, "Oh, would you like a drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?" the speed at which you were talking wasn't normal for you, and you had to mentally tell yourself to slow down.

"Water would be lovely," Dr Nala spoke gently, but the man just shook his head no.

Hurrying to the kitchen you grabbed your nicest glass and filled it with water, your had was visibly shaking. Inhaling slowly through your nose and out through your mouth again, you took a second to compose yourself.

They had only just got here, you needed to show them that you were capable of looking after someone else, and you weren't going to do that if you were falling apart already.

"I've got this," you muttered to yourself, "I've got this!" you repeated with more confidence.

Handing her the glass of water and sliding a coaster onto the table in front of her to put the glass on, you took a seat in the armchair adjacent to them.

She eyed the coaster carefully and sipped her water, the silence was killing you.

"Your apartment is lovely," she complimented after she'd swallowed her sip, but you could tell she wasn't done, "Is it always this tidy?" she asked kindly, but bluntly.

You let out a small laugh, but when you realised it was a serious question your mind went into overdrive - what was the correct answer?

"For the most part," you settled on, "I try to keep it clean as much as I can, but I'm not obsessed with it being like this all the time," you said with honesty.

The man, who was yet to speak or introduce himself, started taking notes and your heart dropped. That must've been a wrong answer.

"But I'm not a slob or anything!" you quickly redacted what you said, trying to make up for any blunder you'd already made.

"May we have a look around?" Dr Nala asked politely, and you didn't know if you were thankful or not that she didn't address what you'd said.

The speed at which you stood up was too-eager, "Of course!".

'Chill, you need to chill!' Your inner monologue screamed at you.

The two stood almost in unison and followed you out of the room, "As I said to you when we first met, it's nothing big or fancy, just a one-bed apartment," you showed them your bedroom first.

They glanced around the room; one starting with the left-hand-side and the other starting with the right, meeting in the middle at some point to cross over - whilst you stood awkwardly with your arm out like you were presenting a gameshow prize.

"So, this is my bed, obviously," you tried to make it humorous but were really worried it didn't come across that way.

Dr Nala hummed, "Have you thought about where Jayce would sleep?" she turned to you, giving you her full attention and awaited your answer.

"Uh-" you started. No, you hadn't. You'd been panicking so much about passing all these exams that you hadn't given it a moments notice, "-Wherever he wants, I guess?" you couldn't have sounded more unsure.

A dog bed just felt wrong and dehumanising. Yes, technically he was going to be your 'pet', but imagining him trying to curl up on one of those small circular beds on the floor didn't sit right with you.

The idea of finding one big enough to fit him was even worse.

She raised an eyebrow at you, and you knew for sure that wasn't the right answer to give.

"I mean, honestly, I thought he'd like the couch. It's pretty comfortable, and a lot of my research said that's what hybrids prefer!" you began to ramble again.

She watched you as you spoke, "I guess, my plan was to ask him the next time I saw him." you confessed, "And if he didn't like what I have here already then we'd go together to get something he did like," you were thinking aloud and for once you weren't trying to think of the perfect answer.

"Your research?" she repeated your words back to you and you felt a pang of embarrassment. "Yeah! I've been looking up things when I've had the time, to make sure I know what I'm doing before he-" you stopped yourself, "If, he gets here," you corrected.

She stared at you for a moment before admiring your bedroom again, "You care a lot," she commented and left the room, showing herself the rest of your home.

She walked into the bathroom, there was a shower-bath and the essentials with a small roof window for ventilation.

"Is this the only bathroom?" she pointed at nowhere in particular inside the room, "Uh-huh," you nodded, but when she didn't say anything else and simply left, you wondered if one bathroom was enough.

Finally, they moved into the kitchen, observing the area the same way they had every other room.

There was an island in the centre that doubled up as a table with the high stools you'd put there.

"Have you thought about meals?" she asked as her small heels made a clicking sound against the tiles.

It was strange to think that this woman was the same person who had been so excited to show you the hybrids in the first place.

"Yeah, protein is a priority but he'd be able to eat the same things as me as long as it's balanced correctly," you practically regurgitated a sentence that you'd seen online.

She nodded slowly, "He does have his likes and dislikes-" she started to say but you interrupted her, "-I know," you opened a draw and pulled out a notebook where you'd copied the things he didn't like from the file she gave you and slid it across the counter to her.

The pair shared a glance as she read your notes.

"Okay, well we wont take up any more of your time," she smiled again, and the suddenness of their departure made your heart sink, it couldn't be a good sign.

You hurriedly put the notebook back into your draw, "Is it okay? My home I mean?" you were speaking quickly again, "Is it suitable? I know it's small, and he's, well, big, but there's a park close by and I need to get out mor-", she interrupted you by saying your name before you started to spiral too much.

"The main purpose of these visits is to make sure the home is safe and welcoming, the main factor being the person living in it," she chuckled, her pleasant demeanour returning.

She tapped her fingers on the counter delicately and glanced around the room, "It's evident that you care a lot, and want the best for him, and that is the most important thing. I have no doubt he will be very happy here with you,".

"Does that mean I'm approved?" you held your breath, "Well, there's paperwork to fill in, but I see no reason why he wouldn't-", "-thank you, thank you, thank you," you shamelessly jumped off of the floor with excitement.

There were happy tears building up in your waterline that you hadn't expected to be there, just over a month ago you had no clue that Jayce existed, now you were the happiest you'd been in a long time.

"Don't thank us, thank you for giving him a second chance," her tone was kind and full of sincerity.

"Could I try one of those cookies?" the man who'd been taking notes finally spoke. You laughed and nodded, wiping at your eyes to make sure you wouldn't actually cry, and plated the cookies that were still sat in the oven.

He ate one happily and hummed to show his enjoyment. Goodbyes were said and they promptly left, taking the anxiety and weight of the encounter off of your shoulders with them.

The following days were torture. A monotonous cycle of getting up, going to work, spending the evening alone, going to bed and repeating.

Wednesday was the day you were bringing him home.

They'd suggested you visit him one more time so you could let him know the good news yourself, but your workload had increased tenfold due to someone being on maternity leave.

Oftentimes you were working through your lunch break, and the sanctuary didn't allow visits after 6pm.

However, you'd booked Wednesday off as holiday and you were collecting him at 4pm, giving you most of the day to buy some last minute things.

By the time you'd done all of your shopping and put it in the right place inside your home, it was almost time to leave.

All too eager to see him again, you left early - driving perhaps a little too fast along the roads, you made one stop along the way, but you made it there safely.

"Hello, I'm here for-" you started as you walked into reception but they were already expecting you, "-Big day today!" the male vet from your last visit brimmed with excitement.

You chuckled at his enthusiasm and nodded, swallowing back how nervous you were.

He lead you through the corridors that were all too familiar to you at this point, but you took a new turn away from the sanctuary you were used to.

The delay in your footsteps as you slowed at the corner you normally took didn't go unnoticed by him, "He's not in there," he called from the other hallway.

Twisting your head back in the other direction, you continued to follow him, "We have a different pick up point for the ones leaving us, it would be too distressing for them and the other residents to do it in the communal area," he explained.

"Yeah, that makes sense," you shook your head, annoyed at yourself that there was yet another thing you didn't think of, but you didn't have time to self-scold.

He stopped at a singular white door and you felt like your lungs had rolled themselves up like when you're trying to get the last bits of toothpaste out of the tube, all ability to breathe was gone.

The vet grinned at you as he pushed open the door, allowing you to step in first.

For a second you thought your knees were going to give out on you. You couldn't remember the last time you were this nervous.

What if he didn't want to go with you? What if he didn't like you as much as you liked him? What if they were forcing him to leave so they could say they were able to get the feral hybrid adopted?

You shook your head to try and get rid of the bad thoughts but they swam around in your brain like algae in a pond, clinging to every surface.

When you finally entered the room he was in the corner next to the window overlooking the parking lot with his arms folded across his chest, he'd watched you arrive.

"Hey," you spoke softly and made sure your tone was as friendly as it could possibly be to not startle him.

He turned his head towards you and the side of his mouth twitched upwards into a smile for just a second, and you felt a tiny piece of worry fall from the mountain you'd created.

"I assume you know why I'm here?" you queried and slowly approached him, he nodded and his tail swished slowly behind him, but the vet vocally responded for him, "Oh yes, we told him yesterday!", causing his tail to stop just as quickly as it had started.

His interruption irritated you. There was a small part of you that wanted to remind him that you hadn't asked him.

Instead, you tried to not let him sour this moment and kept your focus on Jayce. Watching his body language and facial expressions intently for any signs of discomfort or distress.

"Are you okay with it?" you asked him quietly, your voice unintentionally more hushed than usual so though you were trying to make sure that your words only fell on his ears.

He gazed at you, not really giving too much of an indication of a reply to your question; he seemed somewhat indifferent to the idea.

The pang in your chest returned, it felt like your muscles were closing in around your heart - squeezing just enough to allow it to keep beating but hard enough to make it hurt.

Was this your sign that he didn't like you? That he didn't want to leave?

You shuffled forward but made sure to keep your distance, "If home isn't with me, that's okay," you focused on keeping your voice strong and confident, but couldn't tell if you were failing.

One of his ears perked up when you said 'home', leaving the tips to bounce at the sudden muscle movement.

You noticed it but didn't want to give yourself any false hope, instead you let the sensation flutter across your chest.

"I'd really like it if you did," the sleeve of your hoodie was suddenly very interesting. "But it's your choice," if you were paying attention to him, you would've noticed how his eyebrows lost their tension at the sound of your sincerity.

Inhaling, you braved meeting his eye, "Do you want to come home with me?".

His ear twitched again but other than that his expression remained unchanged, until he nodded.

It was subtle and quick; down and up, down and up, but it was certain.

You exhaled and felt instantly lighter, "I'm glad," you tried to let yourself relax, the first hurdle was done, "Where are your things?". Other than him and the empty table and chairs, the room was barren.

"He doesn't have any belongings," the annoying observer said from the corner he was lurking in, "What do you mean? He has clothes and...", you stopped to think, "What about his chess set?".

"They're property of the sanctuary, they can't go with him," he smiled, but that was the last thing you wanted to do in this moment.

With gritted teeth, you glanced between Jayce and the vet. Apart from the basic necessities to survive, he truly didn't have anything to hold onto here.

How could you have been so ignorant to ask him if he was happy here before? How could he be? The entire structure was a constant reminder that nothing he touched was his to keep. That it could be taken away at the click of someone else's fingers.

Even his own freedom was not his.

That stopped today. You'd make sure of that.

"What about his boat?", "What boat?". The desire to lose your temper was strong, but you knew that would get you nowhere.

"The boat that he made with Viktor?" there was a new tension to your voice that he should've taken for a warning, but unfortunately, he was as oblivious as he was ignorant.

His eyes found the corner of the room as he feigned thought, "I don't recal-", "It's on the top shelf of the cabinet closest to the door," you didn't allow him space to speak.

The look you gave him dared him to try and dispute it with you, "Once we have that, we'll be out of your hair," you forced the polite and soft lint to your voice.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his eyes drifted to the shadow behind you and it promptly closed. He managed to mutter a simple, "I'll take a look," before he left the visiting room.

The air felt calmer now that he was out of sight, but that creeping feeling of anxiety clawed it's way up your throat as you realised that Jayce had witnessed that whole scene.

"I'm sorry," you turned your body to face him but still avoided his eye - instead finding an interest in the scuffed up black brogues he wore, "I'm not usually like...that," you tried to explain, "I just know it means a lot to you and I couldn't stand the idea of them keeping it,".

Jayce observed you as you spoke. He felt no malice in your words, not even when you were addressing the man who made his ears hurt.

He noticed how you rubbed your own arm for comfort, and how you avoided eye contact with him - he wasn't surprised, most people did. He wished you wouldn't; your eyes were kind.

When you found the ground more interesting than him, he resided to the window. All he could do now was wait.

"This one?" broke the silence, alongside the sound of the door swinging shut.

The vet was holding the mechanical boat between his fingers by a thin part of the mast, and a part of you knew he was doing it on purpose.

"Yes, that's it, thank you!" you quickly took it out of his grasp and nestled it into your own like a baby bird that you'd found injured on the ground - like it was the most precious thing in the world.

The sooner you removed Jayce from this building the better.

Something that hadn't exactly crossed your mind was how he would be on the journey home.

You took the lead with him trailing behind you at a larger distance than you'd hoped for, you suppose it was natural for him to be uneasy being outside. It wasn't clear as to whether the vets let them go outside of the sanctuary.

Someone like Jayce probably wasn't given that luxury, with his size and obvious athletic build, they would stand no chance of getting him back if he decided to run.

Influenced by your own train of thought, you peered over your shoulder half-expecting him to not be there anymore. Much to your joy, he was.

Opening the door to your car for him and waiting for him to catch up to you, the thought occurred to you; had he ridden in a car before?

Surprisingly, he sat down in the passenger seat with no issue. Apart from having to duck quite significantly to not hit his head.

Once you'd taken your own seat and closing the door softly, he mirrored your movements, clicking his own door shut.

His nose twitched as he scanned his surroundings. There was a sweet smell that tingled his nostrils and filled his senses, but he couldn't place it.

He checked the seats behind him but it wasn't coming from there. The space between his eyebrows wrinkled in frustration at not being able to locate the scent, it was surrounding him.

"I, uh-" your voice drew him out of his search, "I got you coffee on the way here," you were holding up a light brown cup and he noticed that there was an identical cup in the holder separating your legs from his.

He wrapped his fingers around it and accepted the gift, the cup seemingly significantly smaller in his hand compared to yours.

"I'm sorry if it's cold, we were a little longer than I thought we'd be," he lifted the lid of the cup and appreciated the remnants of an intricate flower design in the foam, parts of it had dissolved whilst it had sat in the car.

He inhaled above the liquid, the scent not dissimilar to the one that clouded his brain, but there were elements missing. As if this was one ingredient in the recipe.

He tentatively sipped the coffee, it was luke-warm, but he didn't mind - it was a gift from you.

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered up into your chest as you watched him; his eyes closed and enjoying his drink. You'd had the coffee the sanctuary offered, and it wasn't good. So, you wanted to treat him to something of quality to start your journey together off on the right foot.

When he stopped for breath you chuckled at the milky foam that had clung to the ends of his moustache, the pleasant sound of your laugh turning his attention to you.

"There's- you've got a little bit there," you tapped your top lip and he quickly wiped it with the back of his hand, missing some bubbles.

Subconsciously, you picked up a napkin and reached for him, intending to clean up the patches he'd missed but he moved back sharply, his ears pressed flat against his head and eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Your breath caught in your throat, a wave of guilt crashing over you. Instead, you left your hand in the air, presenting the napkin for him to take.

"Sorry," you muttered as he slowly took the napkin from in-between your fingers and wiped his mouth.

Be mindful. Let him come to you.

When he seemed to be back to the picture of indifference that you'd come to know, you started the car with a rumble and scrolled through your phone for music to put on for the drive home.

What would he even want to listen to? Did he like music?

Overthinking was going to be the death of you, and you hadn't even tackled getting home yet.

Hitting play, you let shuffle decide for you as you reversed out of the parking lot.

Approximately 10 seconds into the song Jayce leaned over to where your phone was in the holder and pressed the pause icon, the tip of his sharp nail making a pleasant sound against the glass of your phone.

With your concentration being on not hitting any of the other parked cars, or running someone over, you didn't have the opportunity to watch what he was doing.

When the song started from the beginning again, then abruptly stopped and a new song started playing, you knew he'd figured out what each button did.

He eventually settled on a slower song with quieter female vocals and leaned back again, placing his coffee cup into the holder next to yours, and you were on your way home.

The time was closer to 5:15pm and with the colder weather seeping in, it was getting darker earlier than usual, but it worked in your favour as somehow you'd timed this journey almost perfectly.

Whilst you couldn't enjoy the scenery as much as you would've liked to, the orangey-yellow hue of the setting sun traced over the road and cars in front of you.

When you eventually hit the rush-hour traffic and your car became stationary in the line of other vehicles just wanting to get home after a long days work, you allowed yourself to take in the world around you.

It wasn't anything too glamourous, and you'd driven along this road multiple times in the past, but somehow it felt different this time.

The city skyline was silhouetted by the backdrop of the golden hour sun, leaving nothing but tall blacked-out shapes for you to view. It was as if someone had stolen an oil painting and pinned it to the outside of your window.

But the vision that caught your eye was Jayce.

His eyes were closed so gently you may have thought he'd fallen asleep if not for his fingers tapping his thigh to the beat of the music playing. The sun rays were trailing through the glass of the window and laying delicately across his face, highlighting freckles that you hadn't noticed before.

He was at peace, basking in the last pieces of warmth this day had to offer him, and for once his face was relaxed - no scowl or caution on his features.

How long had it been since he'd been allowed a moment of tranquillity to truly appreciate something so minimal, something that you'd taken for granted?

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the line of cars starting to move forward again and you debated whether you should hold up the traffic so he could stay like that for just a little while longer, but the honking of horns wasn't worth it.

The car slowly started to move again and, as you'd expected, he opened his eyes at the sensation - for a second you caught how the sunlight refracted in his irises, illuminating the colour to create the illusion of liquid gold.

You wished you could admire them for longer, but with home so close, you didn't want to shatter the moment.

Unlocking the front door was proving to be the hardest task yet. Your hand would not stop shaking.

The constant tremble that plagued your wrist and fingers made it almost impossible to slide the key into the lock.

Did you tidy everything up before you left? What if he didn't like the space?

Well, he'd just climbed three flights of stairs with you and didn't seem the slightest bit out of breath, so he could always run away if he was that offended by your interior decorating.

The door creaked as you held it open for him, "This is us," you said in the softest voice you could muster - the word 'us' felt foreign on your tongue.

He jutted his chin forward, gesturing for you to enter first. Maybe he was just being cautious?

You walked into your apartment the same way you had every day for as long as you'd lived here, putting your bag down on the table and turning towards him.

He stood in the doorway unmoving, his shoulders and the top of his head almost touching the frame, surveying the room with hooded eyes.

Your best guess would've been that he was checking for any dangers, or simply mustering up the courage to breach the threshold of his new home.

His eyes met yours and you realised you were staring. That probably wouldn't help encourage him.

"Take your time, I need to get something," you tried to hold your head high and straighten your back as if the weight of worry wasn't compressing your spine.

You stepped out of his line of sight and into the hallway that connected to your bedroom and bathroom. Turning right, you chose the former - you'd have to remember to close your door when you slept from now on.

A quick inhale to try and starve off the nerves that lingered, then you picked up a pile of things you'd purchased earlier in the day.

There was a doubt in your head that if you glanced towards the front door that it would still be open but the doorframe empty. If you didn't look then, if you were right, you could live in ignorance.

You exited your bedroom and turned left towards the living room again, but hit a solid wall and stumbled backwards - it was your fault for keeping your eyeline on the things in your arms.

A stupid thought created an unnecessary fear of your own front door and had caused you to slam into a building structure that had been there for a year.

But you hadn't. When your eyelids opened from the shock, you were exactly where you thought you'd be - your back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling of your hallway.

Jayce stood as the blockade between yourself and the living room. He glanced down at you with a cocked eyebrow and a crinkled nose of confusion. He'd followed you once you were out of sight and just so happened to collide with you.

With him staring down at you from such a height, you understood why the other hybrids at the sanctuary didn't invade his space. He was intimidating, even if he wasn't trying to be.

His shadow cast over you and shrouded you with ease, and his bright eyes pierced through the darkness like the sight on a gun lining up it's target.

Your chest moved up and down rapidly, your mouth going dry, the familiar feeling of inferiority fell over you the same way it had when you were playing chess against him.

He stepped forward and your breath hitched in your throat, images of his sharp canines and pointed nails flashed in front of your eyes - was this the type of mistake you heard about in true crime podcasts?

He saw the glossy fear in your eyes. He saw it in a lot of people, he'd become accustom to the gaze of alarm staring back at him.

Something about that tension in your eyes, paired with how helpless and small you were on the ground made his heart beat harder and his mouth salivate. For what reason? He was unsure.

He shook his head - his fluffy ears waving with the motion - and he averted his gaze as he lowered himself to the ground, bending at the knees until he knelt on them.

As his shadow shrunk so did your worry. You were unable to move for longer than you would've liked, it reminded you of a rabbit in headlights.

When he started to pick up the pieces of clothing and paper bags you'd dropped you finally snapped out of it, getting up off your back and helping him collect the discarded objects.

"T-Thank you," it came out as a tremble so you cleared your throat.

He didn't hand you the things, instead he backed out of the hallway and stepped to the side so you could pass.

You shuffled past him and gently dropped everything onto the couch, "These are actually for you!".

The assortment laid in a mess on the couch so you tidied them into piles as you spoke, "I didn't know what you'd like, or what would fit you, so I had to guess," you placed the clothes onto one cushion, and the paper bags on the other.

He picked up one of the tops you'd bought for him and held it up, by visuals alone it seemed like it would fit him. He pinched the fabric of the white button-up shirt he was wearing and looked at you.

"You don't have to wear them if you don't want to!" you stepped back from the couch to give him some space, "But I thought you'd like to have a change of clothes, something more comfortable," you called behind you as you entered the kitchen.

It was getting late; you were slightly hungry, and you weren't sure when he last ate so you pre-heated the oven and got to work.

After around thirty minutes of quiet - apart from the sound of the oven humming and water boiling - you grew worried.

You were sure he would be okay, but were you doing the right thing by leaving him to his own devices so soon after he got here?

Most of the forums and blogs you'd read told you that it was best to let them find their own way around the home. In some cases they recommended isolating them to one room until they were used to the smells and sounds of their new home.

Jayce was intelligent, which was great but it causes other problems to arise.

He'd picked up on things just from simply observing you doing them once, whether you were aware of it or not. Which posed the question of, was he like other hybrids?

Would keeping him in your living room for a few days be helpful, or would that freak him out- no. You promised yourself and him that he would have his freedom, which meant he could go where ever he wanted when he wanted.

Once you'd plated the food and slid it over to the counter where the stools were, you thought you'd better go and find out what he was doing and why the apartment was so quiet.

"Jayce?" your voice carried through the hall and hit his ears like a song. It was the first time you'd called him by his name, and he wanted to hear it again.

It wasn't condescending or overly high pitched like how the vets would say his name, you said it with sincerity and kindness. One he didn't hear very often be associated with himself.

When you found him still in the living room, you were greeted by the sight of his bare back, toned and muscular with scars scattered over the tanned skin. "Oh, I'm sorry!" you apologised for the fourth time today.

Your hands shot up to your eyes to give him some privacy, and you turned around leaving almost as quickly as you'd entered, "Foods ready, it's in the kitchen whenever you're done!".

Eventually, he joined you in the kitchen, having now put on a plain black t-shirt and changed into jeans instead of the tattered white shirt and suit trousers he'd arrived in.

As he entered the kitchen you noticed he was holding one of the t-shirts you'd bought for him. It was a light grey long sleeved polo. His eyes flitted up to yours as he handed it to you sheepishly.

You cocked your head with confusion and looked at the fabric, "Did you not like this one?" you asked as he slinked onto the stool in front of one of the plates.

"I didn't know what you liked-" you held up the polo in front of you and stopped mid-sentence when you realised why he had handed it back to you, and more importantly, why he was being avoidant.

There was a tear across the chest, the soft fabric frayed as evidence of a battle lost against a muscular build.

"That's okay!" you tried to hide the chuckle that wanted to leave you, "At least I know what size not to get you from now,". He visibly relaxed, his shoulders lowered as they lost some of their tension.

You folded up the shirt and put it on the counter next to your phone. Sewing it up was always an option, or you could rip it into pieces and use it as dish cloths?

He seemed more comfortable now, chewing on the chicken you'd made slowly as if he was savouring the texture and flavour with every bite.

Despite his nature, he slowly and cleanly ate the food you'd prepared, there was no trepidation about using cutlery either. So you were beginning to wonder if he was actually as feral as the vet had described.

The atmosphere was pleasant. For once you weren't unhappy with someone else being in your space, normally you'd be relatively uncomfortable when another person invaded your home, but there was a familiarity with Jayce.

Other than his large frame being slightly out of place at your counter, it was as if he'd always been there, part of the furniture.

Your train of thought was disrupted by the sound of your phone vibrating across the hard counter top.

The screen lit up with a name you were sure you wouldn't see again, it stopped you in your tracks like flashbang. "I-" you started to say, as if talking to the inanimate object would make it stop.

With a slightly raised heartrate you reached a shaky hand out and tapped the red 'hang up' circle.

Why was he calling you? You'd made it pretty clear that you didn't want any further contact with you after what he'd done, but you couldn't bring yourself to block his contact at the time, and evidentially, you'd forgotten.

Without realising it, you'd been staring at your phone for a good minute before you came back to the present.

You finally tore your eyes away from the screen, "How's the food?" you managed to say, but any sort of response Jayce could've give you was cut short by the annoying buzzing noise echoing on the polished wood.

Jayce's ears flattened against the back of his head at the intrusive sound, and you blinked in semi-disbelief and semi-irritation.

You pressed the hang up button more aggressively, swiped the screen down to turn it onto do not disturb, and placed your phone face down.

"Go away," you whispered to yourself, and Jayce's left ear twitched forward at the hushed tone of your voice.

You stabbed your fork into your food harshly and put it into your mouth, chewing it as you leaned your cheek on your fist.

Thoughts of the past crept their way into your mind, and it was noticeable on your face. You were so occupied with internal questions that you didn't notice Jayce staring at you.

A low huff came from across the table and you looked up at the sound. He was regarding you expectantly; his amber eyes hard and waiting.

"What?" you mumbled with your mouth still full of food. His eyes darted to your phone and then back to your face, and you knew what he was asking, but you weren't sure if you wanted to go there tonight.

Inhaling deeply, you thought about how to respond, "It's nothing," you waved your hand and glanced back down at your almost-empty plate.

He tapped the space on the counter between your plates and twisted his hand to point two fingers upwards towards his face, silently saying, 'Look at me,".

It worked as you re-met his gaze, his stare was still intense but there was a note of curiosity? No, concern perhaps? It was hard to read him.

"Okay, it's not nothing," you sighed, "I'll explain it to you some day, but not tonight, please," you struggled to hold his eye contact, but your response seemed to sedate him as he nodded and returned to his food.

Once you'd finished your meal you put the dishes in the sink and realised it was much later than you thought. "I guess I should give you a quick tour," you laughed as he stayed sat at the counter.

"Obviously this is the kitchen-dining area-" you waved your arm across the room, "-the plates, mugs, and glasses are in here," you opened and closed one of the cupboard door to show him.

"Dry food in here, if you ever get hungry and want a snack," you did the same with the cupboard next to it. "Pots and pans in there," you pointed at one of the lower doors, then to the one next to it, "Cleaning supplies,".

"Fridge, and oven," you put your palm against each metal surfaces respectively, then started walking out of the room, waving for him to follow you, which he did.

He followed you through the living room and into the bathroom, "There's only one bathroom, and unfortunately there's no lock-" you half-closed the door to show him that you weren't lying, "-So, I guess we can have a rule where if the door is closed then don't go in?" you shrugged as you thought out loud, "Or, knock?".

He seemed to understand what you were saying, so you started to head back to the living room, but stopped at your bedroom.

"This is my room-" you reached around the door frame and switched on the light, and realised that you hadn't actually tidied it before his arrival, "-you can come in here if you want, but you probably wont need to," you turned the light off again before he could fully register how messy it was.

Moving back into the living room to grab the blankets and pillows you'd bought for him, "That's everything! I know it's pretty small but it's cosy," you ran your hand nervously over the fluffy brown fabric.

It was complete coincidence, but the blanket you'd bought him was the same shade as his ears and tail.

Extending it out for him to take, you looked up at his face, "I didn't know how or where you'd want to sleep, but the living room is yours," when he took the bedding, you rubbed the back of your neck.

"We can get a different couch if it isn't comfortable, or one of those pull out ones that turn into a bed," you rambled as you mimed what you were describing.

He just stood, holding the bedding, watching you word-vomit to him. He didn't wait for you to stop talking before he started to set up the couch as his bed for the night, and you took that as a sign to stop talking.

It had been a long day filled with new experiences, he was probably very tired.

"I'm going to leave you to it and get ready for bed, there's a toothbrush and stuff for you in the bathroom, use whatever you want," you pulled at the sleeves of your sweater for comfort.

This was the first time you had a guy stay over, granted the situation was vastly different from the usual circumstances someone would think of if you said there was a man staying the night.

But this one was here to stay. It was his home too now, and things were most certainly going to be different from this point on.

"Goodnight, Jayce," you smiled at him softly and gave him space to take everything in. You just hoped he'd be happy here with you.

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[moonstruckme]

I remember seeing you say a little while ago you would take holiday requests so if this sparks some inspo for you…. How about best friend!Steve being reader’s secret Santa and giving a gift that is so sweet and personal and kind of a confession of his feelings (like Jim’s gift for Pam in the office)

Thank you for requesting!

best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 984 words

Steve’s afraid his wrapping is a dead giveaway. 

He tried his best, but gift wrapping is a new skill for him. There’s an overabundance of tape and plastic bows covering up a hasty patch job. Nancy laughed when he gave it to her to put under the tree for the secret Santa exchange. She called him sweet for trying with a weird look in her eyes and a little smile. 

You and Steve are sitting together as always. Sometimes he wonders if it’s more habit at this point than anything else. You walk into a room and you just go to him, unthinking, like a magnet. Steve does the same thing, but, well. He knows why he does it. 

So far, Eddie’s gotten a large pack of socks without holes in them, Robin’s gotten a Bangles album, and Steve has gotten a t-shirt with the words Big Dick printed on it that he’s sure Eddie—it had to have been Eddie—thinks he won’t wear, and so he will wear solely to Corroded Coffin shows, out of spite. When it’s your turn, you find Steve’s gift with your name under the tree and your eyes move between your friends suspiciously. He’s not sure whether to be relieved that you don’t immediately guess it’s from him. 

It’s painful to watch how carefully you unwrap it. You peel back layer after layer of tape, unfolding without ripping, the paper crinkling gently. 

“Come on!” Eddie jokes. “That’s not the spirit of Christmas. You’re supposed to tear it up.” 

“No!” you laugh. “Someone put a lot of effort into this. Look at all the bows!”

“Look at all the tape,” Robin mutters. She’s got Steve dialed, for sure. 

The box underneath the wrapping is plain cardboard, found in Steve’s basement. Your lips part as you open it. 

“Oh, my god.” You lift a large ceramic mug from the box. “This is—it’s my mug. Steve?” 

Steve fights a smile as you look at him, eyes wide and happy. “Can we say?” 

Robin makes a derisive noise. “Like she doesn’t already know.” 

“Steve,” you say again, stretched out and sweet like taffy. Your face softens as you reach around him for a hug. “This is so cool. Where’d you get this?” 

“Well, they didn’t only make one,” he jokes. He’s working hard to contain the full scope of his smile. God knows Eddie would never let him hear the end of it if he saw. “I found a lookalike.” 

Behind you, Robin makes a face, widening her eyes at her girlfriend dramatically. Steve is sure Nancy’s heard all about how Robin was dragged from thrift store to thrift store, town to town, one long Saturday until they found the right mug. He’s glad when she doesn’t launch into her tale of complaint again now. 

“Harrington got you your own mug?” Eddie asks, perplexed. “Did he, like, steal it from you and give it back?”

“No,” you laugh. “No, it’s…” You turn, your eyes meeting Steve’s. 

The mug is from a coffee shop you and Steve used to go to. You went together for years, starting back in school when you wanted a place to study and Steve was willing to pay three bucks for a cup of coffee to talk at you while you worked. It had become your regular spot. You had a couch you always sat on, and the baristas recognized you, so eventually there was a mug your drink order always came in, too. It was wide and green, curved with a thick lip. Plain enough, Steve thought, but you loved it. Maybe it was more that you loved having a regular drink order at a place that felt like yours, but for some reason the mug was special to you. The coffee shop closed down last summer. Steve couldn’t get you your couch (he thought about it, but it wasn’t sure where you’d put it and it seemed like a bit much), so he got your mug. 

“It’s from this place we used to go,” you say to Eddie. Your thumb brushes across the smooth ceramic, still looking at Steve. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, sure.” He shrugs, leaning back against Nancy’s couch and trying not to look too obviously pleased with himself. “It wasn’t a big deal.” 

Robin makes a half-suppressed guffawing sound. Steve sends her a look to tell her to zip it. 

⋆⁺₊𖠰₊⁺⋆

You lean into Steve’s side, and Nancy watches his face turn into something so tender she almost wants to grab her friend’s heart and keep it safe for him. But she thinks it’s safe with you. 

Anyway, there’s no saving Steve now. He’s been looking at you that way for years, practically since he’s known you. It’s only that now you might be starting to see it. 

You’re speaking to him quietly, holding your new mug between your hands like it’s the most precious thing you own. Your legs are nearly in Steve’s lap. He says something back to you, and you smile, bright and beatific. Your eyes stay glued to him like he's the center of your world. 

“Still can’t believe it took a whole Saturday to find a green mug,” Robin mutters, too low for anyone else to hear. She’s stolen Steve’s Big Dick shirt and put it on over her long sleeve, the large fit comical (and adorable, if you ask Nancy) as she tucks one of her knees up under it. 

“I don’t know,” Nancy says, leaning sideways so their shoulders rest together. “I think it’s sweet. It obviously means something to her. Don’t you think that’s sort of worth it?” 

Robin makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, but she softens when Nancy turns her eyes up to hers. “I guess so,” she sighs. 

On the other side of the couch, you erupt in laughter at something Steve’s said. He lights brighter than the Christmas tree.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - blood, mentions of death, slight kidnapping, and spoilers for dungeon meshi.

You could remember Laios once mentioning that dragons mate for life.

It would've been impossible to remember why he brought it up, whether you'd been foolish enough to ask him or if he'd offered the unwanted information in a more general conversation on monster behavior, but the fact stuck. Dragons, like most birds and reptiles, mated for life, and were unlikely to take another partner if their first died. You remembered thinking that it made sense, at the time. Like most monsters in the dungeon, dragons relied on a cycle of reincarnation and didn't age, meaning there was no environmental pressure to reproduce. And, even if it was only on some base, animalistic level, the reincarnation cycle meant that dragons knew their fallen mates would eventually return, even if they would have to wait a few months, a few years, a few decades. If you'd been a kinder person, you might've went so far as to call it romantic.

Dragons mate for life. You guessed that went for Falin too, now - or, the vicious creature that was wearing her face, at least.

You could only be thankful that you didn't have very long left to live.

You could feel it coming. Falin had managed to get you away from the battlefield, but you'd been injured in the fight - whether by her claws or an ally's sword, you couldn't be sure. Blood was rushing out of the deep gash stretching across your chest without reservation, soaking into the leather of your armor and pooling on the stone floor beneath you. You couldn't remember how you got hurt, and you couldn't remember how you'd gotten here, either - to a bell tower tall enough to overlook most of the abandoned city, decorated only with a few colorless feathers and bones you could only hope belonged to yet another wretched creature. Your vision was fogged and dim, your arms too heavy to raise and your legs too numb to move, but you were almost thankful for the paralysis - it kept the worst of the pain at bay. You were thankful to die, too, even if you knew you shouldn't be. There'd be no one to resurrect you, no one to drag your lifeless body back to the surface, but you didn't mind. If you died here, it would mean that you'd never have to find out just how many lives were ended because of a monster with Falin's face, her hands, her magic. If you died here, you'd never have to see the creature she'd become again.

You tried to close your eyes, to let go of the last of your strength before it could be taken from you forcibly, but the sound of talons scraping against stone brought what was left of your conscious back to the surface. With no small amount of effort, you managed to turn your head to the bell tower's largest window - or, more accurately, to Falin, perched on the stone ledge, taking care to tuck her wings against her side in a way that was not totally unsimilar to how she used to take precious seconds to comb her finds through the knots in your hair. Her wounds were still fresh, many of her ivory feather still soaked with red, and she was already looking at you, already smiling so gently that your heart might've beat a little faster, had it been able to beat at all. Despite yourself, you smiled back as you met her eyes. Your smile had never been quite as pretty as hers, of course, but she'd always liked it when you could pretend to believe it was.

Your kept your eyes locked with hers as she approached, the movements of her great body slow, only somewhat labored. The floor of the bell tower shook as she lowered herself to your height, her hand coming down to cup your cheek. You couldn't stop yourself. You leaned into her palm, into her warmth, letting out a rattling exhale as her thumb traced idle patterns into your skin. Maybe she would be kind enough to put you out of your misery a few seconds early, but even if she didn't, you wouldn't mind. So long as you could die in Falin's arms, you'd be happy.

Her lips didn't move. She didn't move. She said nothing, did nothing, and yet, with little more warning than a dull, green glow in the corner of your vision as warning, you felt warmth flood out of her skin and into yours. There was a single bolt of pure, unforgiving agony around the edges of your injury and then, nothing.

For a second, you let yourself believe that you were dead. Falin killed you, and you were dead. You had to be dead.

Your gaze shot back to Falin. Her smile didn't waver, but her hand fell away from your cheek and found your own. Tenderly, she brought to her chest and with her free hand, slid something onto your finger. It took you a moment to recognize the cold burn of chilled metal, the way the ring glinted gold when it caught the light. It was her ring - the ring you'd given her after Marcille's resurrection, the ring you'd fumbled into her palm as you asked her to marry you, then apologized for not having a matching pair.

And then, something hot and thick caught in your throat and you lurched forward, coughing into your hands. By the time you pulled away, your palms were fleshed with bloody tissue and the gash across your chest was gone, replaced with a blank expanse of exposed, in-tact skin. She'd healed you.

She refused to let you die.

She cupped your hand, when she was done, her eyes darting up to meet yours. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse, low, a poor imitation of something wonderful. If you hadn't been so terrified, you might've called it beautiful.

"My love."

[illbegottenfaith]

2001 - theo nott x reader

Honey, what you runnin' from? When you comin' back to bed? Toss and turnin' all night long with me instead Honey, what you runnin' from? Where the hell you headed to? Do you like the way I run after you?

or, theo doesn’t understand what’s holding you back from taking things further

a/n - I think I would classify this soft core smut at best? But adding an 18+ tag jic

tropes/warnings - 18+ MDNI, fluff

word count - 1.6k

“Fucking hell. Hide me.”

You shrunk yourself down the best that you could behind your best friend, Ivy, laser-focused on the boy at the other end of the hallway. Ivy rolled her eyes, making no effort to help.

“I can’t believe you still won’t tell me what happened that night. It can’t have been that bad.”

“It was,” you muttered, stupidly trying to get Ivy to cooperate. It was no easy task, especially on days like today when she was feeling particularly stubborn, which was a problem since the boy looked fully intent on approaching them.

“Will you relax? You look like an idiot. Like an even bigger idiot than usual. He probably doesn’t even remember whatever-“

“Ivy. Happy birthday. Sorry I couldn’t make it to the party.”

Damn. You thought you had more time. Curse him and his unfairly long legs. Ivy did the grown-up thing, which was literally anything other than pretending she didn’t see him. “It’s alright, Theo. You can make it up to me next year.”

“How was it?”

“It was nice, actually. We got a discount on -“

Ivy was cut off by a gentle tug, revealing a hunched-over you. You straightened hastily, clearing your throat, refusing to meet his gaze.

“L/N.”

“Nott.”

“Planning on dropping by tonight?”

You put on a straight face, looking politely confused. “Hm?”

“The party. Tonight.”

“Oh. Where?”

Theo narrowed his eyes, and your face burned under the intensity of his gaze. It took everything you had to keep your features schooled while he shamelessly searched your face for what felt like far too long.

“The Slytherin common room,” he replied, finally tearing his eyes away from you. You relaxed, blinking hard and a little breathless, your palms a little clammy. “Can’t miss it. Just follow the stench of firewhiskey and bad ideas.”

Internally, you nearly passed out. Externally, you shrugged noncommittally. “Sure. Maybe.” Definitely not. You weren’t going to spend a second longer in Theo’s presence if you could help it. 

You and Ivy get to the party and, as expected, you’re abandoned the second she finds Ivan through the crowd. You wander around before you decide to join a group of Slytherins on the couches, next to Theo. You get handed a drink. It burns your throat and makes your eyes water. The loud bass starts to sound more tolerable. Another drink. Theo’s frowning at you. You wonder if anyone’s told him how good concern looks on his face. Everything is now ten times funnier. You press up against Theo, laughing yourself silly, leaning into his touch as he drapes an arm around you. Another drink. You’re more than lightly flushed. Theo places a hand on your thigh. You don’t move it away. 

Eventually, you end up pressed against the door of Theo’s room, your mouths a heady mess of heat, teeth and tongues, your bodies moulding to each other’s. Your eyes flutter shut, blissfully able to let go with your senses dulled by alcohol. You can’t tell if it’s the music or your pulse vibrating through your body, but you’re aching for his touch. He presses a knee against your core and you groan into his mouth, melting into a boneless mush in his arms.

“Theodore,” you sighed desperately, breath catching in your throat. It was enough to slow his ministrations on your neck which had been filling your head with the most delicious kind of static. You never used his first name despite your best friends being glued by the lips since sixth year, mostly because you never went beyond exchanging civil pleasantries. Occasionally, you’d have a chat that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, or you’d let your thoughts wander to his disarming blue eyes or wicked smile, but that was it. It never did, and it never could, go any further than that. You were too different. It would never work. You’d only be setting yourself up for heartbreak. Nothing good could come of entangling with the illustrious Theodore Nott, figuratively or otherwise.

And to use his first name was to acknowledge the existence of this softer, kinder Theo - a version worlds away from that Nott boy with the aloof face and the piercing eyes. He hummed against your neck, thumbs restlessly skimming the waistband of your skirt.

“We can’t - we shouldn’t,” you continued, once you were able to make sense of your fuzzy thoughts. You pushed him back gently, cool air rushing in to douse the heat of the moment. “Our friends have a whole thing. We’d only get in the way. It’s just a bad idea.”

His hands stilled on your hips. “I don’t understand. What about our thing?”

He looked so dazed and so adorably dishevelled that you almost felt sorry for him. It was late, Theo’s words sounded dangerously close to slurring, and if you were being honest, you should have left the party hours ago. You stroked his cheek absentmindedly before gingerly slipping out of his hold, recovering your shirt. You slipped it on, fumbling at rhe buttons with trembling fingers, and turned back to see Theo still watching you, uncomprehending, his swollen lips parted in confusion.

“Get some sleep, Nott. You’ll get what I mean in the morning.”

“Bye, Theo,” Ivy was saying now. “Give Ivan a kiss for me.”

“Should I feel him up while I’m at it?”

“It only seems right to give him the full experience.”

Ivy grinned as he walked off while you all but dragged her down the hall towards your next class.

“Aw, come on, Y/N, he’s not that bad.” She glanced at you, eyes twinkling with mirth. “You know, I always thought he has a thing for y-“

“Aren’t you late for Herbology?”

Ivy cursed as she fumbled at her wristwatch, hurrying down the corridor. In about a minute, she’d realise that she didn’t have Herbology today, but you decided to let her find that out herself.

Hours later, you were holed up in the library, desperately trying to plug your ears with all the ruckus going on floors below. Trying to focus was a losing battle.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Your head snapped up too see Theo leaning against one of the bookshelves. Busted. To be fair, she was nowhere near the world’s best liar, so it was doubtful whether he had even believed her in the first place.

“Nott,” you greeted, in a pleasant enough voice. “Is that the time? I hadn’t realised the party had already started.”

The music continued blasting, more than audible to the two of them. Theo arched an eyebrow, slowly walking over, and you had the decency to look embarrassed over your bald-faced lie.

“I was planning to drop by later.”

“Well, you should.”

“Maybe I will:”

“It’s almost as fun as that last party ages ago.”

You stiffened at the memory. “Ah. Yes.”

Theo leaned over you, broad-shouldered and hypnotising. He dragged his gaze across you inch by agonising inch, undressing you with his eyes. You were starting to feel uncomfortably warm in your uniform. He dropped his voice.

“First and last time I see you in my bed, hmm?”

You choked, failing to suppress the shiver prickling over your skin. “That’s - stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Talking like…that.” You felt your face heat up all over again, cursing yourself for your inability to even pretend to keep your cool in front of him. “Looking at me like that.”

His gaze flickered to your chest, so brief you’d have missed it if you blinked. “Like what?” 

You let out a frustrated, overwhelmed sigh, your brain becoming oddly fixated on the memory of his hands on your hips, travelling up your ribcage, at the nape of your neck, grip tightening on your waist -

“Go on. Use your words.”

His breath tickled the shell of your ear, the closest he’d been to you since that night. 

“Like…like you actually want me. Like I’m something special.”

“You are something special.”

You groaned and looked away. “I’m seeing someone,” you tried, half-heartedly. Theo snorted.

“What, that Davies guy? Yeah, like that’s going to last.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel all that indignant on Davies’ behalf. Not that you were going to let Theo know that. “I’ll have you know that Mac is a perfect gentleman.”

“My point is-“ Theo started, irritatedly. You took a perverse sort of pleasure in ruffling his feathers. “- why the fuck are we talking about Davies when you could be in my bed, doing far more interesting things with that mouth?”

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Perhaps you like having me run after you. Is that where you get off, hmm? The thrill of the chase? Being a tease?”

“I am not a -“ you began hotly, before you caught the mischievous twinkle in his eye. You rolled your eyes. “You’re too cocky for your own good,” you muttered. 

“I thought you like me cocky,” he teased. His expression softened the next second and you watched him trace lazy circles on your wrist.

“Besides…I’ve never tried this hard to get into someone’s pants.”

You gave a shaky laugh. Theo bent down once more, this time to press a kiss to your lips, then another, and another, until you were lying on your back on the table, looking sinfully ravished, blouse long forgotten.

One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign Down on Me - Part 11

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: Thanks everyone for sticking with me 💕

-🐺-

“So, Pup, now that we’re acquainted I want to start the session by doing a quick check in to see how you’re feeling. For the first few visits with my clients, I usually like to provide a sheet just to help you express yourself properly. So I’m gonna give you this and then once you’ve made your selections we can talk about them and I can answer any questions you have. Don’t be afraid to pick as many as you need to!”

You stared dead eyed at Dr. Beale, already plotting a bloody murder attempt on Price; one befitting of the betrayal that you felt by being subjected to a therapist with all her gentle tones and well meaning smiles. She appeared nice enough, dark coils of hair twisted into a bun, a bright watercolour patterned dress, a small pair of black rimmed glasses; she could’ve passed for a school teacher honestly. 

You decided you wouldn’t be fooled by her outward appearance though, plenty of people could put on a good front afterall. She was probably going to play mind tricks on you. That’s what everyone said about therapists, right? She was going to find out about the things you resolved to tell no one about…

Besides, It wasn’t fair! Surely everyone in the team had their shit to deal with. Why were they allowed to romp around and continue with normal training while you’d been dumped into the quacks office? An office beckoning secrets to march out in the dreary reality of it all. 

The room itself was painted a now worn yellow with a bobbly carpet across the expanse of it that looked like it was about to match the walls with just a little more foot traffic. Despite that, Dr.Beale had clearly tried to make her best effort to cheer the place up. A string of fairy lights glowed behind her across the wall, illuminating the colourful art that was pinned up all over the place. She’d stuffed a few pot plants by the one window that did its best to shine a little light into the room, and from your puffy old armchair, you could just see a ‘plant mother’ mug sat at her desk to the left of her. 

Plants and fairy lights or not, you still felt like you were in hell. Waiting to be condescended to, waiting to be told what your feelings are and how to deal with them as if you hadn’t been managing yourself your whole life. Not to mention be shaken down for that one thing you said you purposefully wouldn’t discuss with her. 

“Here you go! Circle the ones you think fit best right now.” 

Dr. Beale finished shuffling through the papers in her hands and reached over to give you the floppy laminated sheet she selected. After that you were handed a whiteboard marker and given an expectant smile. 

You sighed and looked down at the assignment, almost groaning out loud when you saw what was on it. A few rows of cartoon faces greeted you and underneath each was an emotion. At the top of the sheet was a big thick fonted title that read ‘today I feel…’ 

Today I feel like I’m gonna puke up breakfast, you thought. 

For a moment you considered walking out and begging Price to give you one more chance, to drop the whole therapy thing. However once you remembered back to Ghost dropping you off, you let your ears sag against your head and dismissed the idea. The last thing you needed was Ghost marching into the room and getting in the middle of it all. 

Besides everyone had their work cut out for them. That’s what you told yourself. Soap and Gaz had to train, Ghost was at a meeting about the parade and Price was busy fuming over dead end leads and uncooperative guests. 

With that in mind you circled the orange grumpy face that said annoyed, the grey neutral face and at the last minute, also circled the light blue embarrassed face. After your selections were made you handed the sheet back to Dr.Beale and watched as she studied it. Of course when she looked back up at you she greeted you with that same neutral little smile. 

“Ok, thank you so much for sharing that with me. Now why don’t we talk about this a little. Would you like to tell me why you’re annoyed?” 

You bit your lip, undecided if you’d be honest or if you’d try to brush her off. Once you looked into her steely eyes though, you knew she didn’t look like a woman that was going to be easily fooled. Besides, over the time you’d been with him, Ghost had hammered the need to be honest into you till you felt sore at the idea of deflecting anymore. Well, deflecting about most things anyway. 

“I don’t think I need therapy,” you shrugged. “I could be doing something worthwhile right now, training with my team, or helping Ghost, even the gym seems more productive. No one’s ever stopped to talk about my emotions before and I don’t get what use that’s gonna be now. It’s not like any of the others have to take time out to talk about their feelings, why should I be any different?”

“I see,” she nodded. “And is that why you’re embarrassed? You think that being away from your team and talking with me is something to feel ashamed of?”

You nodded. 

“Well, I can see why you feel that way, it’s valid from your perspective, but i think it’s worthwhile remembering that your team have different needs than you.”

“What, you think all hybrids need therapy?” You frowned. 

She laughed a little at that and shook her head. The silence of her pause rang out, prompting you to look away from her and focus on a leaf on one of the plants. You watched it bounce and sway with the slight draft that swept in through the window. 

“I meant that as an individual we have different needs, is all,” she finally said. “We all struggle with different issues, need a little help with things now and then. Can you think of a reason why your captain signed you up for your sessions with me? Is there something you need to work through that you need help with?”

“I uh…” you paused this time, recognising that her tone conveyed that she knew exactly what you were supposed to say, Price had already told her of course. “I…black out sometimes when I’m put to work. I give into my instincts and I stop- stop being myself.”

She nodded, giving you space to add anything else with a gentle smile. It unnerved you. Never in your long career had you ever been given the space to sit and tell someone all your problems before, and only in that moment did you realise how much you could actually talk about if you let the dam break. 

Everything rushed through your head at once, the pressure bursting through your skull and reverberating across your clenched teeth. Your parents leaving you, Maddox torturing you, moments where you had no one to talk to, no one to comfort you, getting practically thrown out of helicopters and Jeeps and sent into the line of fire, sweating for hours in hot climates and assisting aid workers till you passed out, shivering and breathing out fading pillars of steam in the Norwegian mountains because your clothing was in such poor condition, starving in the kennels, begging for medical attention-

“Are you alright? Would you like a cup of tea or some water or something?”

You blinked over at Dr. Beale. Suddenly you were back in your body and you realised you’d been clenching the arms of your chair so hard that your claws had stuck themselves into the puffy lining.

You apologised and asked for some tea in as even a tone as you could muster. 

“When Price reached out, he told me about the instinct driven black outs- said Ghost had been managing you mostly, but that in a recent mission you wouldn’t listen and you almost died,” Dr. Beale said, standing by the kettle you hadn’t spotted before as it rumbled to life. “He also said, despite the blackouts, you’d been enjoying your time with your new team, said your relationship with Ghost was solid. Is that how you feel?”

“Yeah.”

“Care to share more on any of that?”

You had to take a second to process what you were going to tell her. Words weren't flooding to you in those moments. Your mind was still busy turning different possibilities over, sifting through possible outcomes of telling her or not telling her certain things. Was Beale to be trusted, would she actually help you? Why would Price make you speak to someone who wasn’t being genuine in their intention to help? But then how well did he know this doctor? 

“I dunno, the 141 have been nice to me. They all look after me and I like that I get to feel…like a part of something.”

“That’s great! It’s important to have bonds like that in your line of work. It’s hard when you’re a hybrid though, huh?”

“Mmhm, I didn’t think I’d ever have a handler,” you shrugged. “I’m lucky to have gotten Ghost though. He’s been…really nice to me.”

She stirred the tea bag around in the mug a second, the tinkling sound of the metal against ceramic causing your ears to flick. After quickly asking if you wanted milk and sugar, you were soon handed the warm mug, giving your hands something to clench onto. The steam gave you a sense of clarity, reminded you to breathe more. 

“What kinds of nice things does Ghost do then?”

-🐺-

“Get your coat on, we’re heading out.”

You looked up from the colourful pages of your graphic novel and huffed out a sigh as Ghost passed by your room. The day after getting back from Mexico you had been looking forward to catching up on your reading and doing nothing for most of the day. Apparently Ghost had other plans though. 

He was already at the door getting his boots on when you emerged, your ears drawn back and mouth set in a firm line. Your fingers curled into the warmth of your jacket sleeves, waiting on Ghost moving out the way so that you could get your own shoes on. The hall was cold since the heating hadn’t been on and the smell of the recent rain fall had managed to permeate around the door all the while. You liked that smell, didn’t mind that Ghost took a few extra seconds. 

“Where we going?” You asked, only speaking once you started to do up your laces. 

“Out.”

“Why?” You tried again, smiling when you saw his own barely concealed grin in the crinkles of his eyes. 

“Because I found somethin’ you’d like.”

“And what is it I like?” You pressed, ears standing fully to attention now. 

“Asking too many bloody questions apparently, fuck me,” he chuckled.

He ruffled your hair and was rewarded with a growl for his effort. He didn’t back down though. You playfully went to chomp on the edge of his palm, trying to discourage him from messing up your appearance right before going, but he drew his hand back in time before your teeth could connect. Your fangs biting into air.

“Naughty.”

“You started it,” you said with a smirk. 

“And I’ll put an end to it too. Anymore tryin’ to bite me and I’ll bite ya back.”

You folded your ears back in fake alarm, but of course Ghost knew exactly what you were doing and laughed you off. After ordering you to get your boots on it didn’t take long before you were out the door and following him into the car. The destination was still a mystery and Ghost remained stalwart in refusing any clues. It was to be an off base trip, that much was obvious, but to where?

Once Ghost got driving the scenery flashed by like a rolling screen, the barracks houses soon fading to country lanes and then springing back up to houses, then blocks of flats, the familiar route to the city splashing out ahead of you. All the way through the roads, classical music played softly in the background, the dramatic violins willing the road to pass under the wheels faster and faster while the road roared above it all. You liked car rides with Ghost, appreciated that you got to sit in his quiet company while he concentrated on the drive. 

After about a half hour, once day had quickly faded into night like a blinking eye, the car rolled up and up until eventually coming to a stop in a tall parking structure. When you got out of the car, the chill of the air bit your cheeks and beckoned you to come closer into its winds. You peeked over the edge of the barrier, staring down over the solid fencing at the city below with a cautious head tilt. You thought of the many vantage points you’d waited at throughout your life and couldn’t help but wait to be told to track a target. 

“C’mon, Pup. This way.”

Ghost pulled up his neck gaiter, newly ordered for the parade, and marched off toward the doorway. He knew you’d follow. Both of you milling past cars and toward the doors of the shopping centre beyond. Through the frosted glass you could already see the beginning glow of the lights beyond, smell the scattered scents of different shops teas and perfumes and chocolates among the mingling aromas.

“Gonna take me on another shopping spree?” You enquired. 

“Oh yeah, gonna make sure we get you kitted out. Get you all the clothes you’ve been begging me for,” he deadpanned. “Little fashionista.”

His flat voice gave nothing away. Only the crinkle of his eyes indicated to you that he wasn’t serious. It was hard to resist playing along with the bit however. 

“You think I’ll finally get that cowboy hat I always wanted?”

“Mm,” he grunted thoughtfully. “Get you the boots to match too.”

“And a whip?”

“Now that’ll do, I’ve only got so much budget.”

Finally you both entered through the double doors, Ghost holding the door open for you and letting you walk into the warmth first. The twinkling lights were easy to see now, all brightly sparkling amongst the banners that rolled down  from the ceiling, all advertising great deals to be had and fun places to go to. A couple of the banners even seemed to show a few hybrids. You stood for a second to to take them in, still surprised that hybrids were shown on advertisements now, blinking up for a few moments before you followed Ghost again. 

“So where are we actually going?” You huffed, finally falling in line with his huge steps. 

“You’ll see soon,” he laughed.

He waved you off with his hand when you tried to whine at him. It didn’t matter what you threw his way, he was quite content to swat you off like a fly. At one point he started digging his hand into your neck just to make you laugh and distract you from asking any more questions.

After some amount of shoving from each of you, you soon ended up in front of a bookstore. It was one of the chains you were used to going to, the fuzzy purple carpet the same as all the others, the tall stacks of colourful shelves gleaming with promise of adventure, romance and cartoon ass kickings. 

“You were being all secretive about going to the bookshop, why exactly?” You asked, cocking an ear back in confusion. 

Not that you weren’t grateful. However you’d gone to the book shop before with him, it was hardly worthy of being a secret. Ghost was cryptic as ever though. He merely shrugged his shoulders and lead the way inside, already beelining for the graphic novels without any input from you. You followed after him with a shake of your head after. 

With the next three books in your favourite series secured, plus another novel ‘without bloody pictures in it’ at Ghost’s insistence, he took you out of the shop and lead you up to the food court afterwards. The ‘adventure’ wasn’t at an end yet. You stood on the escalator and looked out at the people walking around - all to absorbed with themselves to worry about you, you’d now learned. It wasn’t a very busy night either, as stairs flattened at the top, it was revealed the food court was much the same as the rest of the place. 

“What do you want then?” He asked, stopping at a pillar and letting you survey the floor while he leaned his back against it. 

All the usual offerings filled the place, random Chinese, Italian, and sandwich shops, chains dotted in between them, and of course some random desert stalls. The smells invaded your senses, most tempting you to choose them, until one particular one won out. Pizza.

“I’ll not bother asking what you want on it,” Ghost snorted.

You’d protest if you didn’t know your own predictability. Besides there were more important things at stake than a wrong order. Once you were situated behind a young couple, you couldn’t help diving into your bag of books and pulling out your new book. It’d been a while since you’d read something with full sentences, the graphic novels were too addictive and easy to read after a long day, but this story seemed interesting at least. 

“You’re a nonsense, you are.”

“What? You’re the one that was encouraging me to get the thing and now I can’t read it?”

“Didn’t say you couldn’t read it. Most people just wait till they’re sat down to read.”

“I’m not most people,” you shrugged, shooting him a sly smile and a flick of the ears. 

He didn’t protest that. In true Ghost fashion, he nodded and made some gruff comment about you being a ‘harmless weirdo’ at least. Which, of course, you wouldn’t let stand. Harmless? It would be an insult to let him call you harmless when he knew exactly what you could do. You gave him a flash of your teeth, but were quickly disarmed when he squeezed the funny spot between your neck and shoulder again. 

“Stop doing that!” you whined, slapping his arm.

“But it’s funny,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And you like it when I tease ya.”

“Do not.”

“Yeah you do. Your tail’s wagging.”

“That’s an annoyed wag actually. There’s a big difference,” you said, ensuring you weren’t looking anywhere near his eyes. 

If you had made eye contact you would’ve been afraid that Ghost would figure out you just liked it any time he touched you - no matter if it was teasing or not. After so long a time spent isolated and shoved away in kennels or bunks, every casual gesture felt like another drop in the cup that had been empty for so long. Now it felt like that cup was filling up more and more by the day, and you weren’t sure that there was an end, but knew that the bottom was just a bad memory now. 

The people ahead of you in the line stood off to the side a moment after, and soon you were snapped out of your thoughts and watching the Lieutenant. Ghost parted from you to get the pizzas and pay, quickly reeling off the order and tapping his card on the machine. He motioned his head for you to follow him to the next nearest pillar. His back once again easing against the solid surface. 

“You’re getting better at making shit up. Must be all that reading you’re doing,” Ghost noted, forcing you to remember what you’d just been talking about. “Or too much time with Gaz, cheeky bastard.”

He pulled you into him and mussed your hair, paying special attention to your ears. You whined but it didn’t matter. His knuckles relentlessly went on and built static between his skin and your hair and fur. Even without a mirror you knew that you were going to look a mess. You grabbed onto his hand and tried to separate yourself from the big lump holding you down, but it was no use.

“You’re not funny,” you huffed.

“Now that’s a lie,” Ghost laughed, finally letting you go. “Tails still waggin’ an’ all.”

“What my tail does isn’t any of your business,” you said petulantly.

“Everything you do is my business, Pup.”

“Oh yeah? Why that?”

“Cause you’re mine,” he said, a smile in his eyes while he smoothed the back of his hand across your jaw. 

In that moment, you couldn’t be more glad that he was called to go pick up the pizza, otherwise he might’ve caught the way your pupils expanded like a playful cat’s and the obnoxious speed of your tail. With a gulp and ‘get yourself together’, you walked toward a nearby table and waited for him to bring the food. There was no way you could muster looking toward him without crumbling into an overexcited bundle of nerves. 

“Excuse me,” called a small voice, capturing your attention.

You tilted your head and turned, soon finding the source of the sound. A small boy that had somehow materialised next to you on the bench that you’d chosen, his ears folded back and tail in his hand. At first you wondered where his parents were, worrying about what could happen to a hybrid child that found themselves missing, but then you remembered he’d tried to get your attention. 

“Are you ok? Do you need help?” You asked, still glancing around for a parent or some other family member who he might belong to. 

“No, no I’m fine,” he said, releasing his tail and sitting up tall on his knees. “I wanted to ask you something.”

You tilted your head again and looked him up and down. He was maybe seven or eight, quite tall even while on his knees on the bench, but he was all lanky and fluffy with his small age still. You weren’t much older than him when you’d been sent off to Branhaven. Had you looked so fragile and sweet once?

“What is it?” you finally asked, trying to forget about your own thoughts for the moment. 

“Are you a soldier?” he asked, pointing to the collar at your neck.

“I am,” you confirmed, a smile forming. “Why do you wanna know?”

“My daddy’s a soldier,” the boy shrugged, “he has a collar like that, but he only wears it when he has to work. Are you working?”

Now you could only frown. His father was a hybrid? And a soldier? It raised a few different questions for you, namely how could he have had a child with the lifestyle he led, and furthermore how could he be present when he’d be bound to a handler. Had you felt it appropriate, you would’ve thrown a thousand questions at the boy, but instead you answered him. 

“I’m not working,” you said. “I just don’t like taking it off.”

“Why?”

“I feel like I’m naked without it,” you shrugged.

The boy giggled at your answer, his bushy black tail wagging with delight. He was thoroughly impressed until Ghost walked over, sticking your pizza down and giving you a questioning look. Then the boy cocked his head, unsure of what to do. 

“Did you multiply while I wasn’t looking?” he asked, eyes crinkling.

The boy smiled again and wagged his tail, clearly sensing that Ghost must be safe. When you’d first met him it had taken a while to convince you of that, but then you supposed in his civvy clothes there was more of a softness about him. 

“Uh, kinda,” you said sheepishly, again wondering about where the kid’s parents were. “He was asking about my collar. Saying his dad is a hybrid soldier like me.”

“That right?” Ghost asked, taking the chair out across from you both. “What’s your name then?”

“I’m Ben Killroy,” the boy said proudly, puffing his chest up. “And I’m gonna be a soldier just like my dad and your hybrid.”

That made your stomach drop. A weight settling somewhere deep in your bones at the very idea of being driven down and delivered off into the same life you were. How long until that little smile washed off his face? A whole day or maybe just a few hours?

“That so? And your dad wants that for you does he?” Ghost asked.

“Well no,” he huffed, his ears folding back in annoyance. “Him and mum told me I’m not allowed to go, they keep saying I have to keep going to stupid school and get an education. Except they can’t tell me what to do once I’m eighteen, so then I can join!”

“School isn’t stupid, you’ll have a lot more fun there than the army,” you said sternly, firmly agreeing with his parents. 

“Ugh, you’re just like my parents,” he groaned, throwing his hands up. “School is crap! You have to sit in a room and pay attention to a stupid blackboard and you only get like… forty minutes outside. Plus there’s bullies that pull your tail and call you big ears in my school. If I went to a hybrid training program then no one would bully me for my tail or ears because everyone would have them! Except my dad says that’s not true and you do get bullied, but then when i ask him to prove it, he doesn’t tell me how its not true! That means he must be lying.”

At that you couldn’t help but snort, wishing you could pat his dad on the back. How right he was. Before you could tell him just how ludicrous the idea of not getting bullied in the army was, Ghost got in before you. Leaving you simmering to yourself.

“You know in the army you have to stay inside all day sometimes, and you have to sit in meetings for hours where you’re not allowed to speak or move?” Ghost said, peering over at you. “Isn’t that right, Pup?”

You nodded at him, watching as Ben narrowed his eyes.

“Why would you have to be in meetings not speaking or moving for hours?”

“Sometimes your handler has to be in them and talk about the mission you were on. You have to be there too, just in case you have to answer questions as well, but most of the time you’re expected to sit quiet and in the same spot without fidgeting- otherwise you get punished,” Ghost explained, nodding toward you. “Pup knows all about that, don’t you?”

“One time I had sit in a ten hour long meeting, and the one time I let out a yawn I got written up for it,” you said, full to bursting with unsavoury experiences you could regale him with. 

“But that’s not fair, ten hours is like…its like basically a whole day!”

“Uh huh, and after that I had to sleep outdoors all night,” you shrugged.

“You have to sleep outside? In the cold?” He asked, frowning deeper now and holding his tail again. 

“Yup. That’s one of the punishments you get the most when you’re in training.”

The boy didn’t look pleased about that at all. Though before he could question it any more a tall woman in a rain coat came by and snatched him by his hand. Not a hybrid, but still she clutched at him protectively and wore a panicked look in her eyes. 

“What has mummy told you about running off in public places, Ben! I went to the play area and got a shock when you weren’t there, that’s not very nice to mummy is it? ” She said sternly, ushering him to her side before addressing you and Ghost. “I’m really sorry about him. He always has to talk to every other hybrid he sees, even when he’s been told not to go wandering off.”

“Muuum,” he whined, ears glued to the side of his head. “You’re embarassing me in front of the soldiers.”

She raised her brows and looked properly at you both, eyes flickering to the collar around your neck and then over at Ghost. Knowing what you were, she seemed to tense a bit more.

“He hasn’t caused any trouble has he?” She asked, wrapping an arm around the huffing boy.

“He's fine,” Ghost said, dipping his head a little. “Was just telling us how he wanted to join up is all. We were saying that there’s no rush, school first.”

“Oh,” she said, relaxing again and smoothing a hand over her son’s head. “Yes, that’s very good advice. Do you hear that, Ben? School first!”

“But dad didn’t have to go to school,” Ben grumbled. 

“Well that’s because he didn’t get a choice, did he? C’mon, we’ve been enough of a distraction to these nice people. Let’s get you home, you little rascal,” she said sternly, looking to you for the last time she went on to say, “thanks for looking after him. You're a good soul.”

With that she ushered the protesting boy away and left you and Ghost to your food. At first the silence lingered between you both like a chasm, both of you digging in to your pizza. You staring off into the distance after the woman, while Ghost looked on at you with a calculating gaze. 

“You alright?” He finally asked.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes when he did nothing but raise his brows at you. “I just…I dunno. His mum was scared for him. She cares about him and wants him to go to school…”

Another moment of quiet passed. You chewed thoughtfully on a bit of pizza, barely tasting it, while figuring out what to say. Truthfully you didn’t really know how to put coherent words to what you were thinking beyond, ‘it’s not fair’. The beat of that particular drum almost outweighed all other thought. 

“And his dad… is like me. How does a hybrid soldier have a kid he’s raising?”

“Things have gotten a bit better the last few years. If you met someone and had a kid with them, you’d be given time off and be allowed to stay with them outside your work hours,” Ghost shrugged. “Did you not know that?”

“No… I suppose that never really applied to me till now though. Nobody ever took me off base, so it’s not like I would’ve met anyone.”

Ghost reached across the table and settled his warm hand on top of yours, his roughened thumb tracing the outline of yours. Your ears perked up at that. 

“Well it’s not like that anymore. You’ve got options, and people that care about you,” he murmured, his hand still caressing yours. “Just don’t go runnin’ off too quick. We’d miss ya.”

You smiled at that, a swish working its way back into your tail. The strange look Ghost wore on his face had a wave of giddiness washing over you. If you weren’t mistaken it was almost like…

“Are you jealous at the idea of me going off to live with someone else, Ghost?” You asked, tone light enough that it could pass for a joke. 

He snorted at that and drew back, looking away for a second before returning his eyes to yours. His stare was just as piercing as always. Vats of molten honey. 

“I told you in Mexico, I didn’t like it when you were gone. Feels wrong.”

“But you’d let me go if I asked?”

Ghost said yes. Tone clipped, shoulders hunched as he shovelled his way through another slice of pizza. He didn’t know it, but you smiled then and could hardly look at him as you thought about the possibilities that a lifetime with him could entail. 

“I don’t think I could imagine living with someone else now,” you said thoughtfully. “Not even the others. Especially not Price.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Too scarred after Mexico, the snore levels that man is capable of. I think health and safety should do a decibel test on him,” you said with a grin, watching on with glee as Ghost’s smile returned.

“It’s funny you say that because Price had similar complaints about you,” he said slyly. 

“No he didn’t!”

“Yes he did. Said you were squirmy and all, that you kept trying to shift yourself under his arms till he was cuddling you,” He laughed, pointing his pizza at you. 

“No I didn’t, that’s a lie!” you protested, a full whine breaking out into your voice.

Ghost’s dirty laugh came into full affect then, a full body thing that had your cheeks warming with the sound. Despite feeling mortified at the idea of unconsciously making Price spoon you, the fact that you were back on track with Ghost again couldn’t help but derail your shock. It was another moment of feeling normal, feeling almost human. It had you shaking your head at him instead and finishing your pizza with a little sigh of ‘unbelievable’.

“He didn’t actually say that, but you always do that with me.”

And thus the back and forth continued, the two of you fighting good naturedly while putting the pizza boxes in the bin, then still as you walked to the unknown next location and so finally stopping when you reached the cinema. The big dark lobby encased you, the dim lights making Ghost’s eyes sparkle all the more while he still refused to tell you what the big surprise was. 

Even when you reached the screen and sat in your big comfy chairs, you still couldn’t get the answer out of him, no more than a ‘wait and see’ was given. Not that it mattered to you of course. It had been many many years since you’d gone to the cinema and truth be told you were happy to watch just about anything. The smell of your popcorn filled your senses, while the low lights and quiet conversations lulled you into a relaxed state, drawing you closer and closer to Ghost’s chair next to you until you were leaning your head against the bulk of his shoulder. 

“I forgot how much I loved the cinema,” you sighed. “Thanks for bringing me.”

“S’alright.”

You were quiet a few moments more, watching with rapt attention even at the adverts, noting some of the trailers in your head for later so that you could see those movies later. A comedy that made you full on snort till Ghost was giving you a funny look, and a romance film that you would never confess to Ghost to wanting to see and would find a way to watch yourself, were among the few you’d catalogued away. 

Soon the lights blackened almost completely and any hushed conversations then died down. Your ears perked up when the screen went black and you tilted your head, waiting to read the title of the movie. When the screen showed, you blinked a couple times and tilted your head again. It was… the same title as the graphic novels you read. You frowned and turned to Ghost, waiting to see if your assumption was surely wrong, but the smile that inched onto his face told you otherwise.

“No way!” you whispered ecstatically. 

“Surprise,” he whispered back, bumping you with his shoulder. 

At that point you were sat up straight in your chair, full attention directed onto the screen as the opening music blared on and vibrant colours and shapes that seemed to have been pulled right off the pages of your books were dancing into life on the screen. Characters that you had spent hours thinking about began to appear, lines that you could remember reading and rereading were spoken and it was like magic itself was woven into the world in that moment. 

Ghost’s secrecy had paid off. Perhaps it had paid off a little too well - for hours after the film you were going on and on regaleing him about similarities and differences to the graphic novels, making sure he knew that one of the characters was different but so much better, that the ending of that film would lead to the next few comics in the series, that the lore of the world was worked into the film so well while covering the 3 books that it was based off. At times he would sprinkle in some questions here and there, but mostly you hit him with your full analysis until it probably felt like to him that you had seen the movie twice together.

Once you’d gotten home and into the bathroom, delving into your nightly routine, something in your chest simply wouldn’t let you settle into your own bed. Everything in you vibrated like a spring that needed to bounce, so much so that after trying to read the same line of your book five times, you admitted to yourself that you couldn’t get back into your routine after the day you’d had. And so you did the only thing you could think to do. 

Creeping into the hallway, you padded downward until you reached Ghost’s room, perking an ear up and listening for any sounds of sleep. Even with your superior hearing you couldn’t really make out much, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t already knocked out.

“Ghost,” you said, hoping your voice would pierce through the door just enough to hear. “Are you asleep yet?”

A moment passed. 

“Did you have another bloody thought about that movie?” came his bleary reply.

You grinned to yourself and opened the door, revealing Ghost propped against his pillows and sitting on his phone with the dull lamp on. His hair was fluffy with static, and his eyes betrayed his tiredness. Contrary to you, he looked like he could fall back and rest the second he could. 

“It’s not about the movie,” you affirmed, closing the door behind you and settling onto the foot of his bed. “I just wanted a minute.”

He grunted over at you, continuing to finish up whatever he was doing on his phone. You clutched your knees in your hands, in the meantime, looking around at all the familiar cracks in the wall and bits and pieces on the floor. It was warm that night, but even so you curled up into something small. 

“Come on up then,” Ghost finally said, chucking his phone to his bedside table before lifting up the sheet. “Might as well get comfy.”

Even worming your way into his sheets felt like a hug, his scent spilling from the cotton as if you were pressed in close to him. However, you remained across from him, propping yourself up on an elbow and looking up at him like a worshipper to a god. His pale chest was revealed now that the covers had shifted, and so while you stared at him your eyes lingered there while your mind whirred, not really sure what to say. 

“I wanted to thank you again for today,” you finally said, looking him in the eyes. “And I wanted to say that I really appreciate everything you do for me. I don’t think I ever would’ve been able to come up with anything like this if you’d have asked me where I’d want to be months ago and I just wanted to say that you’re amazing. I’m not sure what I did to deserve all this, or you, but I’m really glad I got to.”

He blinked syrupy slow and kept looking at you with an easy smile on his face, now turning to meet you in your sideways position. Ghost’s heat now began seeping into you, your heart rate thumping as he pulled you into his orbit. His own pulse danced in your ears and soon you were hypnotised by it, just looking his eyes while he looked into yours.

“You’re too sweet,” he murmured, reaching out and stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’m glad you had a nice night. Though I’m not someone that you need to worry about deserving, darlin’.”

“Yeah you are,” you said breathily, smile growing.

In a moment of impish fun, you turned your head and pretended to bite his thumb, fastening your two sets of teeth around it and letting the points of your canines graze against his skin. He raised his eyebrows and used his other hand to grab your cheeks, giving you a warning squeeze. You let him go, but his grip still remained on you. 

“What’d I say about you biting me, you little shit?” he said, good humour still written on his face.

“You said you’d bite me back,” you shrugged. 

“Wouldn’t want that now, would you?” he grunted.

“Maybe I do,” you smiled, raising your eyebrows at him again. “What then?”

He shook his head, his teeth on full show from his smile. His full face seemed to glow like white gold, the lamplight casting its rays onto him. Things moved slow then, he got closer to you, breaking the space between you until he was pushed right up against you, releasing your face finally, but still keeping you pinned with arm against your back. He watched you carefully, and you stared right back, breathing slow but expression alight. 

“Feels to me like you’re after something else now,” he said as fact, you both knew it. 

Even if he didn’t need a response, you nodded slowly. Your heart was pounding like a train in your ears, body rattling with stray energy now that you were in a position you’d thought of only in daydreams. For a little second of panic you wondered if this was him about to admonish you of thinking such things. Though he didn’t let you worry long. 

“You sure?” he asked, voice thick with something you couldn’t explain.

“Yes,” you whispered.

He bit his lip, the scar there tightening with the action.

“Ask me.”

“What?” you frowned, shifting back and feeling his hand press into your back. 

“Ask me for what you want. Go on,” he said, an indescribable look crossing his eyes. 

“You want me to ask you for…” you trailed, waiting for him to interrupt, but he didn’t. “I want- for… you to kiss me.”

He chuckled at you stumbling on your words.

“You what now?”

You growled out a frustrated sigh and turned your face into his pillow.

“I want you to kiss me, alright?” you snapped, words muffled in the fabric. 

At that he ushered you out of the pillow and brought his lips to yours. His mouth hot and firm against yours as every little cell in your body seemed to dance. His hands gripped your waist, making sparking little fires dance across your nerves and his body pushed into yours once again. He allowed you to come back into your body, continuing to kiss you gently, until eventually your lips moved with his and soon enough opened so that your tongues could meet. 

A few seconds later and you were parting. Finally catapulting out from a stupor you soon opened your eyes and met his searching ones. Ghost breathed heavily, but then so did you and for a few seconds neither of you said anything. You simply weren’t capable. Your lips felt like they were tingling still. 

“You alright?” 

-🐺-

“Pup are you alright?” Dr. Beale asked, her worried expression dragging you back into the room.

Only then did you realise your chest was pounding and you accidentally squeaked, feeling as though her gaze was seeking out forbidden information. You cleared your throat, pretending that was all you were doing the whole time, and took a sip of your tea, thinking back to the last thing you’d told her.

Of course you’d regaled her about your trip out, about meeting the boy in the food court and going to your movie, however when it came to going home. You figured you’d skip that part. Instead you looked off into the room and shook your head. Your body dispelling the last paranoid nerves that told you she was psychic and knew your every thought. 

“Sorry… I just had a weird dream that night was all. Anyway, basically Ghost is really nice, yeah. What else did you want to know?”

[wwinterwitch]

feels like fate – joel miller

summary: you've had a crush on joel for quite a while now and you suspect that he might feel the same, hopeful that something happens at the new year eve's party

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

tags: tons of fluff, mutual pining, reader is a kindergarten teacher, age gap (wrote this picturing joel in his 50s and reader in her 30s), maria, drunk!dina, ellie and jesse briefly featured

a like and/or reblog is always appreciated!

all masterlists | pedro pascal characters masterlist

You feel like a complete fool walking into that New Year's Eve party, not really anticipating just how mortifying it would be to walk through those doors after spending a ridiculous amount of time doing your hair and your makeup...just in a silly attempt to impress a guy.

It felt almost unreal to you. Something so incredibly out of your character. Yet here you are, dressed to impress, making your way further inside as some people that knew you started acknowledging your arrival. Thankfully, everyone you make eye contact with offers you a friendly smile as you walk past them, which helps to ease your nerves.

Most of the people that greeted you were parents of the little kids you teach at the local kindergarten, a colorful building next to the new library. Aside from your job as a teacher, you really don’t stand out much. You tend to keep to yourself, with modest amount of friends and an almost inexistent love life. 

A few dates here and there over the years... casual flings that never really led anywhere...nothing remarkable. Eventually you just didn’t care about that aspect of your life, already used to the same couple of guys trying to get your attention here and there. Nothing that was worth getting excited for.

But that's until Tommy Miller's brother showed up.

That man somehow found a way to turn your world upside down from the moment the two of you met. He caught your eye almost immediately, and even though you could be wrong, you're pretty sure you made a good first impression on him too.

Why else did he offer to fix that light in your front porch when he heard you complain about it with a neighbour, just to then show up at your house a few days later asking if it was working properly now? And why would he sometimes stop by at the school when all the kids are going back to their houses to have a chat with you? It's not like he's the most friendly person either, so why would he bother with you, right? Right?

It sounds ridiculous– maybe a bit embarrassing, too. To let your brain convince you he might like you back. That you’re somehow special enough to break all of the barriers Joel has seemed to build up over the years to push people away. That you could steal his heart just like he has stolen yours. Well…there’s really no harm in fantasizing about all of that.

And yes, you sound completely delusional, but it truly feels like fate. You've never felt this way about anyone before, and you still struggle to comprehend how you ended up in this situation. How exactly did he manage to slip into your heart like it was nothing? Like it’s been waiting for him all along? One day you're shaking hands with a complete stranger and before you know it, you're unable to get him out of your mind.

But maybe you are delusional, and that's why you took extra time to get ready tonight in hopes of Joel noticing the efforts you've put in looking like this tonight. Perhaps he won’t notice. Perhaps he won’t even show up.

You keep walking, looking around for someone familiar enough to strike up a conversation. That’s when you notice Maria walking towards you, a grin on her face.

"Looking good," is all she says, her tone oddly suggestive.

You immediately feel self-conscious, trying to avoid eye contact as you clear your throat. "Thanks."

She could tell you started to feel nervous, so she immediately tries to be reassuring. "I really do mean it, by the way. I just couldn't help teasing you."

"Is it too much?" you ask, slightly panicking. “It is, isn’t it?”

"Absolutely not," she replies almost immediately, like you just said the most ridiculous thing she has ever heard. "Do you feel like it's too much?"

"Well...I don’t know, but I like how I look."

Maria smiles at that, nodding. "And that’s all that matters. If you like how you look then it's absolutely perfect." She takes a brief pause before leaning closer, smirking. "And I'm sure Joel will like it too."

"W-What?" you asked in shock, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "I don't–"

"Oh, please! Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You two always look at each other like you could quite literally start drooling at any second...heart eyes and everything. It's almost sickening," she comments in a playful voice, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I, uh..."

Before you can answer properly, you locked eyes with the one person you were expecting to see tonight. He has just entered the bar all by himself, looking a bit lost at first, brows slightly furrowed. Then, he notices you’re there at the party, and a soft smile immediately appears on his lips.

"Yeah, that's the look I'm talking about," Maria muttered, right before placing a hand on your shoulder as a way of saying goodbye. "See you later."

You immediately turn to look at Maria again, watching as she walks away to greet other people. Panic sets in when you realize you’re all by yourself once again. Not knowing what else to do, you look down at your hands, fingers nervously fidgeting, very much aware that Joel is walking towards you. It's ironic how the initial desire to be seen by him has somehow turned into the urge to become invisible. You've always been more confident in your head, definitely not anticipating what it would actually feel like to be here in this scenario and how you'd truly react.

His presence is practically overwhelming at this point, forced to look up at him now that he's standing before you. As you take a look at him, you can't help but notice he's done some effort tonight as well. His hair is brushed back and the nice smell of his cologne almost makes you want to lean closer to him.

"Hi." He's the first one to speak, making you that much nervous when you notice his eyes travel down your form. He clears his throat as soon as he realizes what he's doing, immediately looking up. "You look...you look great."

"Thanks, Joel," you reply, a soft smile on your lips. "I was wondering if you were gonna show up tonight, since these types of events are not really your thing..."

"Oh, yeah, well..." he shrugged, staying quiet for a few seconds while he tried to come up with something else to say. You could tell he was nervous, which made you smile even more as you waited for him to continue. "I guess I'm...trying new things. Step out of my comfort zone."

Before you could say anything, the two of you are interrupted when you hear someone nearby. "Dude, this is embarrassing to watch! I told you he's got no game!"

You turn around just in time to see Ellie and Jesse telling Dina to shut up. She giggles as she wraps an arm around the other girl that stands next to her, and her movements let you know she's had a lot to drink already.

Ellie and Jesse look embarrassed that they got caught eavesdropping, although you could tell Ellie is trying very hard to hold back her laughter. "Sorry," the guy says, looking at Joel with an apologetic look on his face.

That's when Dina realizes what's happening. "Whoopsie," she giggles again, dragging Ellie and Jesse away. "Sorry, Joel. Good luck!"

You can't help but laugh at the situation, watching the three of them walking away, noticing how Jesse's lecturing Dina while she keeps clinging to Ellie and trying not to stumble on her own feet.

When you turn back to look at Joel, you notice a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment on his face, barely able to even make eye contact with you anymore. "I'm so sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," you replied almost immediately, knowing you had to say something else to make the situation between you less awkward. "I believe they’re having a good time."

Joel smiles, watching as the trio walks off. "Dina definitely is," he points out. "Can't say the two babysitters look like they're enjoying themselves that much."

"Yeah, that's probably true. Poor kids."

There's a brief silence, not necessarily an awkward one, but you can tell he wants to say something else. Eventually, he speaks again. "How have you been?"

"Fine. I mean, just the usual. A lot of the kids wanted to have a bonfire soon to celebrate the new year, but I still haven't started planning all that. Maybe I'll ask some of the parents for help."

"Sounds fun," he says with a soft smile. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"You can be in charge of the hot chocolate."

The little joke makes Joel laugh. A true, genuine laugh that makes the butterflies in your stomach multiply. "Hey, if that'll make me useful, I'm in."

You can't help but keep smiling at him, feeling so incredibly giddy. Is this perhaps what Maria was talking about before? You probably have the exact same look she was describing earlier.

Almost as if you were in some cheesy romantic movie, the cheerful music drastically changed to a much slower tune, noticing a bunch of couples deciding to start dancing together. Joel seems to notice what's going on too, but doesn't dare to acknowledge it, silently watching a couple that walk past the two of you.

Hesitant at first, you eventually decided to test your luck. What’s the worst that could happen? "Would you like to dance?"

The question definitely took him by surprise, quickly turning back to look at you. "What?"

You had no problem repeating yourself, letting out a soft giggle. "I asked if you wanted to dance with me, Joel."

"I don't really–"

"You said you're stepping out of your comfort zone," you remembered, which makes him grin. His usual playful grin that makes you feel like a teenage girl developing her first crush all over again.

"That's really outside of my comfort zone."

Trying to encourage him, you reach out to grab his hand as you start walking towards the other people dancing. To your luck, he doesn't hesitate one bit as he starts walking with you. "I promise it's not as difficult as you probably think it is."

The two of you find a spot in between all the couples dancing and you turn around to look at him. Despite feeling incredibly nervous at this moment, you knew he probably feels even worse right now, agreeing to something you suggested that he probably hasn't done in years. It's only fair that you take the lead for now.

You could feel his body tensing slightly when you place both of his hands on your waist before placing yours around his shoulders. With a reassuring smile, you start softly swaying from side to side, hoping he'd follow your lead.

"See?" you say cheerfully when he immediately starts imitating what you're doing. "It's not difficult."

He nods swiftly, looking down at his feet. "I guess," he mutters, his extreme concentration to every single one of his movements making you laugh. "I don't want to step on your shoes," he says, letting out a nervous chuckle right after.

"You're not gonna step on my shoes," you reassured him, and that's when he finally looks back up into your eyes. "You're a natural."

He shrugs, looking slightly more comfortable now. "Or maybe I just have a really good teacher."

The comment makes you playfully roll your eyes. "And to think Dina had the audacity to say you have no game."

Joel laughs at that, shaking his head at the memory of that little incident that took place a few minutes ago. Rather than replying right away, you feel his hands move to the small of your back, gently pulling you closer to him. "So you disagree with her?"

"Maybe. I'm still not sure."

You can see something shifting in his demeanor, looking a lot more confident than ever before. He pulls you close until you're resting your chin on his shoulder, heartbeat rising when you feel his beard tickling your neck and his big, strong hands still firmly placed on your back.

"How about now?" you hear him whisper. In that moment, your knees could've easily given in and make you lose balance. He's really getting comfortable now.

You were unable to speak at first, simply hugging him tighter. A few people around you couldn't help but stare, probably intrigued by you and Joel's evident display of affection. Of course the possibility of a new couple forming in town would peak their interest, especially one so...unpredictable.

Joel's not necessarily a very approachable person, and he definitely looks quite intimidating. You, on the other hand, are known as the sweet kindergarten teacher all the little kids talk about with so much affection. It really is an unexpected pair.

Snapping out of it, you remember what Joel just asked you. "Now...I might disagree with her."

He chuckles against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Good," he says, right before moving back enough to lock eyes with you again.

You both dance together in silence, simply looking back into each other's eyes as you enjoy the proximity and undeniable chemisty. Like you have said in the past, it feels like fate. Somehow, in this doomed world, you were meant to find each other.

"You look so beautiful," he says out of nowhere, smiling down at you. "Early when I got here...I wanted to say you look beautiful."

"Great's also a nice compliment." He's still looking back at your first interactions tonight, feeling critical about his approach then. You didn't want him to feel like he did something wrong, or that he could've done things differently.

Joel nodded. "But that's not what I wanted to say," he insisted. "I'm sorry I was weird earlier. This whole thing is...it's just been a very long time since I've felt this way."

"And how exactly do you feel?"

He notices your little smirk, which inevitably makes him smile back at you, immediately noticing your playful tone. A few seconds later the smile on his face disappears, replaced by a serious expression. "Like I've finally found someone that makes me want to give love a second chance," he says, sounding incredibly sincere.

At first, you don't really know what to say, your heart instantly melting at his words. All you can do is smile, trying not to get visibly emotional, because this is truly fate. This all feels like it was meant to be. As crazy as it might sound, you can easily see yourself falling in love with Joel, spending as much time as this godforsaken world grants you next to him.

Last thing you wanted was to leave him hanging after what he said, quickly snapping out of your thoughts once again. "I think I'd like to give this a chance too."

You could see Joel's entire face light up after what you just said, like he has been waiting for you to say something along those lines. He presses you closer to him, right before leaning down for a kiss.

Sharing a kiss with Joel is exactly what you expected and just so much more at the same time. It almost feels like fireworks are exploding all around you, no one but the two of you existing at that moment. It's so sweet and gentle, yet so incredibly passionate. Is it possible to feel this much just with a kiss? Perhaps this is exactly what it feels like to connect with your soulmate.

As soon as you pull away, you could feel a lot more people staring at the two of you, but all you could really focus on is Joel. There's absolutely nothing else that matters more right now.

"I bet Dina doesn't think you've got no game now," you joke.

Joel quickly scans the room searching for the girl, smiling softly at something before looking down at you again. "I believe she's distracted right now."

Intrigued, you turn around to look in the direction Joel was just seconds ago, noticing Dina and Ellie dancing together. "I didn't know they were a thing."

"Me neither," Joel replied. "I mean, I knew there was something going on with Ellie...poor kid's awful at hiding her feelings. I wasn't sure if Dina liked her back, though."

"Well, it looks to me like she really likes her back."

Joel shrugs playfully. "Us Miller's, you know? We're kinda irresistible."

"Please, don't you ever say anything like that again," you laugh, immediately shaking your head. "It gave me actual chills."

He laughs back. "Sorry," he whispers, leaning in for a quick kiss as he stops dancing. "But you gotta admit it's true."

"Stop it," you warn him playfully.

"Fine." He stops himself for a few seconds, uncertain, before speaking his mind. "Uh, so I was thinking...it's movie night at the old theater tomorrow, so maybe we could go together."

"You'll get me popcorn?"

Joel looks offended by your question. "Of course."

"It's a date then," you reply. This time it's your turn to lean in for a kiss. It's like you could spend your entire life kissing this man. You're addicted already.

He nods in agreement, taking your hand to guide you out of the dance floor. You really didn't care where he was intending to go, you were just happy to get the chance to spend the rest of the party by his side.

[lila-lou]

✨Temper - 2/2✨

Summary: Being with Ben was tough... more than tough, actually. Yet, you stayed because you loved him. But when he thought you were going to leave, he snapped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader (Kinda dark)

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Angst, Hurt, Manipulation, Humiliation

Word Count: 5224

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient.💜

But instead of softening, of giving any hint that he might understand the weight of what you’d shared in the kitchen, Ben only seems more closed-off. He leans back on the couch, eyes fixed firmly on the TV screen, his expression colder than before, as though he’s erected an extra layer of armor. His shoulders are rigid, jaw clenched, every line of his body screaming distance.

You pause by the couch, hesitating as you consider sitting back down next to him. For a second, you wonder if maybe you should reach out, say something, bridge the space between you. But he doesn’t even look your way, doesn’t acknowledge you as you stand there, feeling the weight of his silence. Instead, he takes a swig of his drink, eyes never leaving the game, his focus fixed as if you’re not even there.

Butcher, sitting beside him, glances over, raising an eyebrow in mild amusement at Ben’s newfound stoicism. “Oi, what’s with the long face, Soldier Boy?”, he asks, smirking. “Your team losing or something?”.

Ben shrugs, his tone dismissive. “Nothin’ wrong here, Butcher. Just watchin’ the game. Maybe the air’s just gettin’ a little too sentimental for my taste”. He takes another drink, his tone light, but there’s a hardness underneath that digs deeper than usual.

You swallow, the familiar sting of his words sinking in, as if he’s choosing to put even more distance between you two after overhearing that vulnerable moment.

You manage a tight smile and murmur, “Excuse me for a second”, before slipping away from the living room, keeping your head down to avoid meeting anyone’s gaze. As soon as you’re in the hallway, you quicken your pace, feeling the burn of unshed tears press against the back of your eyes.

By the time you reach the bathroom and close the door behind you, you can no longer hold back the wave of emotion you’ve been fighting all night. You’re not usually like this—not the kind of person who lets tears come easily, not the kind to let Ben’s callous behavior hurt this deeply. But tonight, everything feels like it’s been piling up, and now, in the quiet solitude of the bathroom, you finally let yourself feel it.

You take a few deep breaths, gripping the edge of the sink as you stare into the mirror, forcing yourself to steady. M.M.’s words ring softly in your mind, reminders of the patience and kindness you’ve poured into Ben despite his walls, his careless words. You’ve spent so much time defending him, telling yourself he’s trying, that he’ll eventually see you the way you see him—someone worth protecting, worth showing softness to. But tonight, that hope feels fragile, worn thin.

You close your eyes, letting the sting of tears finally slip free, and you bite down on your lip to hold back a quiet, frustrated sob. Part of you wants to shake it off, to return to the group and pretend nothing is wrong. But another part of you aches with the weight of it all—the unspoken question that’s lingered ever since M.M. voiced it: Is it enough?

A soft knock on the door startles you, and for a second, you freeze, instinctively wiping at your eyes, hoping to erase any evidence of the hurt you’re feeling. “Just a second”, you say, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to steady it.

“It’s me”, comes a gentle, familiar voice—Annie. “Hey… can I come in?”.

You hesitate, glancing at yourself in the mirror one last time before unlocking the door and letting her in. She slips inside, closing the door quietly behind her, her eyes soft and understanding as they meet yours.

“Are you alright?”, she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, as if sensing how fragile you feel.

You let out a shaky breath, shrugging slightly. “I… don’t know. It’s just been a lot tonight”. You force a weak smile, but it fades quickly. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would hurt this much”.

Annie steps closer, resting a reassuring hand on your arm. “It’s okay”, she murmurs. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. You’ve been carrying this, trying to make it work with him, and… I can’t imagine how hard that must be”.

Her words unravel the last bit of strength you’re holding onto, and you let out a quiet, bitter laugh. “I keep telling myself he’s trying. That I’m the one person he actually lets in. But tonight, it’s like…”. You trail off, unable to finish the sentence as a fresh wave of tears rises.

Annie squeezes your arm gently, her expression filled with empathy. “You deserve someone who treats you with the same kindness and respect you give to him. And I know it’s hard, believing in the best parts of him, but if he’s not showing that side to you… maybe he’s not ready. Or maybe he doesn’t know how to be with someone like you”.

You nod, the truth of her words settling deep. “I keep hoping he’ll change. That if I’m patient enough, he’ll finally let his guard down. But I don’t know if he ever will”.

Annie gives you a soft, sad smile. “And that’s not something you can fix alone. You don’t have to set yourself on fire to keep him warm”. She pauses, her voice gentle but firm. “Maybe it’s time to think about what you need, too. You deserve someone who doesn’t make you feel like you’re too much—or not enough”.

Eventually, you find yourself back in the dining room, taking a seat at the table with the others. The laughter and chatter around you feel muted, distant, like you’re watching it all from behind a thick pane of glass. Plates are passed, conversations flow, and people share stories between bites, but you barely touch your food, your appetite diminished by the turmoil churning inside.

Ben is sitting beside you, clearly more interested in his meal than in anyone at the table. After a while, he glances over, noticing your untouched plate. With a low grumble, he mutters under his breath, “You gonna sit there and just pick at your food all night? Better eat somethin’ or you’ll be cryin’ about bein’ hungry later”.

His voice is rough, dismissive, as though he’s addressing a child rather than a partner. The comment is meant to sound casual, even teasing, but it lands with a sharp edge, cutting through you.

You manage a tight smile, more out of reflex than anything else, and nod faintly. “Thanks for the concern, Ben”, you murmur, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the hurt simmering just beneath the surface. But the words feel hollow, the effort draining you more than you’d like to admit.

Eventually, as you help Annie clear the table, you notice Ben’s gaze fixated on you from across the room, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with barely contained impatience. He’s been tapping his fingers against the table, his body language tense, and you can sense that he’s reached the end of his patience.

Just as you’re stacking plates and heading toward the kitchen, you feel his hand clamp down on your upper arm. The grip is firm—bordering on rough—as he leans in, his voice a low, irritated growl in your ear. “Time to go. I’ve had enough of this damn charity act”.

You glance up, startled by the intensity in his eyes, and something in his expression sends a chill down your spine. There’s a sharpness there, a quiet fury that feels darker than his usual detached attitude. It’s almost as if he’s hurt, but the look in his eyes isn’t vulnerable—it’s accusing.

Caught off guard, you hesitate, glancing back at Annie, who’s watching the two of you with a worried frown. She gives you a questioning look, but you can only offer her a small, apologetic smile, not wanting to make a scene. “Alright”, you murmur to Ben, forcing a calmness into your voice. “Let me just finish up”.

Ben’s grip tightens around your arm, his fingers pressing into your skin. He leans in closer, his voice a harsh whisper. “Hurry. Don’t make me say it again”.

You suppress a wince, your heart pounding as you meet his eyes. The raw anger there catches you off guard; it’s darker, colder than the usual jabs and sarcasm he throws your way.

You take a steadying breath, pulling your arm back as gently but firmly as you can.

You whisper, “Yeah”, your voice barely audible. Without another word, you turn back to the table, gathering the last of the dishes, ignoring the prickling sensation Ben’s grip left on your skin. You can feel him standing near the door, his presence a heavy, impatient weight as he watches you, his annoyance practically radiating off him in waves.

As you move through the motions of clearing the table, Annie steps up beside you, her hands moving silently, her expression focused but tense. She doesn’t say anything, but the quiet support in her eyes is unmistakable, her presence grounding you in a way that reminds you you’re not alone in this.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see M.M. watching the scene from a distance, his gaze sharp, a mix of concern and restraint on his face as he chooses not to interfere, but you know he’s clocking every detail.

With the last of the dishes stacked, you manage a small, grateful smile at Annie, feeling the strength of her support. “Thank you”, you whisper, keeping your voice low.

Annie nods, her hand brushing your arm briefly in silent reassurance. “Remember what I said”, she whispers back, her eyes earnest. “You don’t have to do this alone”.

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before turning to Ben, who’s waiting by the door, his arms crossed, his expression hard and unyielding. He doesn’t say anything, just jerks his head toward the exit, his impatience clear.

“Ready?”, he mutters, his tone clipped.

“Yeah”, you say quietly, nodding as you follow him, a heavy silence settling between you as you head out. The night air is cool, a stark contrast to the tense warmth inside the apartment, and as you step into it, you feel a brief sense of relief. But Ben’s presence beside you keeps the tension simmering, his silence cold and cutting as he leads you to the car.

The drive begins in a tense, oppressive quiet, and you can feel the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on you. The ache in your arm from his grip lingers, a sharp reminder of how far things had slipped tonight.

Meanwhile in Ben’s mind, the plan was already locked and loaded. Tonight would be it—the final line he’d draw. He was sure you’d reached your breaking point, that after tonight you’d finally be the one to walk away. But he wasn’t about to give you that power. No, he’d make the call, end it on his terms. He’d have you one last time, with no pretense of holding back, and then he’d kick you out. That way, when the end came, he could tell himself he was the one in control, not you. Not his feelings.

As the two of you stepped into his apartment, you hesitated, the air between you heavy and charged with an uneasy silence. Your steps were slow, cautious, as if you could sense the dark determination simmering beneath the surface. The warmth of the apartment felt like a trap, and the usual comfort of being here was overshadowed by the cold tension in Ben’s gaze as he closed the door behind you.

You set your bag down, casting a wary glance his way, your body tense, braced for whatever was coming. But Ben just watched you, his face unreadable, the smirk he usually wore replaced with something sharper, harder.

“What? Nervous now?”, he muttered, his tone laced with challenge, almost taunting, as he took a step closer.

You swallowed, choosing not to respond, your eyes drifting to the floor as you tried to make sense of the distance he was creating. But that only seemed to fuel him further. He grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, his grip firm, a hint of something dangerous in his eyes.

“Look at me”, he commanded, his voice low, rough.

Ben’s gaze hardened as he tightened his grip on your chin, his voice dropping to a bitter, accusing hiss. “Guess I haven’t fucked you good enough if you’ve got the fucking energy to talk shit behind my back all evening”.

You opened your mouth, starting to speak, wanting to explain, to tell him that it wasn’t like that, that this wasn’t what you’d intended. But he didn’t give you the chance. His hand moved quickly, dropping from your chin to your waist, gripping you with a firm, possessive strength. Without warning, he lifted you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing at all, his movements rough, almost dismissive.

A startled gasp escaped you as he carried you into the bedroom, not slowing down, his intentions clear as he all but tossed you onto the bed. You barely had a moment to gather yourself, to process the intensity in his eyes, before he was there, looming over you, his gaze searing, an unyielding mixture of anger and desire flickering across his face.

“You like running your fucking mouth to your little friends, huh?”, he sneered, his voice a low growl as he leaned over you. “Talking about me like I’m some fucking project you’re just waiting to fix”. His eyes narrowed, the bitterness in his tone biting deep, and you could feel the weight of every unspoken word pressing down on you.

“Ben—”, you tried again, but he cut you off, his mouth forming a tight line as he shook his head, unwilling to hear whatever you had to say.

“No”, he spat, his voice sharp and final. “You don’t get to explain yourself this time”. His hand pressed down against the bed beside you, his face close enough that you could feel the anger radiating off him. “Tonight, you’re gonna listen”.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding, emotions tangled between fear, defiance, and a strange, overwhelming sadness.

“Get undressed”, he ordered, his voice cold and unwavering as he started to unbutton his own shirt, each movement sharp, deliberate. You hesitated, unsure how to respond to the intensity radiating from him. This wasn’t the usual edge he carried—it was something harder, more controlled, as if he were determined to push every boundary between you tonight.

But you knew Ben, knew that sometimes when he was on edge, when the weight of everything built up too high, sleeping with you was the one thing that seemed to settle him. And though he was often rough, letting out his frustrations in ways that left you breathless, he’d always softened afterward, his walls crumbling as he held you, whispered things he’d never say otherwise.

You took a slow breath, eyes meeting his for a moment, trying to find a trace of that vulnerability in his gaze. But tonight, his expression was closed off, his jaw clenched, and his gaze steady, unwavering. Still, you reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head with a slight tremble in your hands, hoping that maybe, beneath the surface, he’d still feel that need for you—not just to prove something, but because he wanted you, because he cared.

He watched you, his gaze flicking over you as he stripped down, his movements controlled, deliberate. When you finally met his eyes, he seemed to hesitate, just for a second, as if something in your expression caught him off guard. But then he stepped forward, and the moment passed, replaced by that unyielding determination as he closed the distance between you.

“Good”, he murmured, his voice low, almost detached, as he leaned in, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you close with a controlled roughness that left you breathless. You held onto him, hoping that as the night went on, he’d let go of whatever anger was simmering beneath the surface, that he’d remember that this was more than just a show of control, that he’d remember the care he’d shown you in quieter moments.

You barely had a moment to process before Ben’s hands were on you again, rougher than usual, tugging you down to the edge of the bed with a firm, unrelenting grip. His usual patience, the attention he would give to every detail, to making sure you were ready, was absent.

"Ben, wait—", your voice was tense, the words catching in your throat, half-swallowed by the shock of his roughness.

His next movements were hurried, forceful, as if he was driven by a need to assert something, to prove a point that was lost to you in the whirl of pain and confusion.

Your breath hitched sharply at the suddenness, the lack of care or consideration palpable and painful. The discomfort was instant, making your fingers tighten reflexively, nails digging into the skin of his underarms, a physical plea for him to notice your discomfort, to maybe, just maybe, remember the need for gentleness.

"Oww”, you mumbled, trying to suppress the wince, but it slipped out anyway, betraying the discomfort that rippled through you. Usually, even when Ben was rough, he’d make sure you were ready, that he’d taken the time to ease you into it. But tonight, his mind seemed elsewhere, his movements harsh, driven by something colder and more mechanical.

You tried again, your voice softer, pleading. “Ben”, you breathed. But he didn’t pause. Instead, he gripped your hips tighter and began moving, ignoring the tension in your body, the way you were bracing yourself against the edge of the bed to withstand the discomfort.

“Sat there all evening for you”, he muttered, his voice thick with resentment, “while you sat with your little friends, talking shit behind my back. Thought you’d enjoy that, huh?”.

You shook your head, trying to reach him, trying to break through whatever anger he was carrying. “It’s not like that, Ben”, you managed, voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t—”.

But he cut you off. “Spare me the fucking excuses”, he growled. “You think I didn’t hear it? Think I don’t know what’s going through your mind?”.

In that moment, clarity washed over you, cutting through the pain and confusion—Ben was hurt. His bitterness, the roughness, the anger—it wasn’t coming from hatred, but from something raw and vulnerable that he was refusing to let you see. He was lashing out, hiding behind the only defense he knew: control, distance, and pushing you to the edge.

“Ben”, you murmured, a quiet plea for him to stop, for him to see the damage his anger was causing. You squeezed his underarms, hoping to pull him back to the reality of the two of you, to remind him that he didn’t have to do this. But he ignored it, his grip tightening, his body pressing you back down onto the bed as he climbed on top, his motions fueled by the bitterness he refused to voice. He didn’t withdraw, didn’t slow down; instead, he thrust harder, as if his anger could somehow be purged by overpowering you.

The pain shot through you, and something in you finally snapped. Summoning all the strength you had, you braced yourself against him, pushing with everything you could muster, managing to roll him over so that you were straddling his hips, your breaths coming in short, heated bursts as you fought to hold his gaze.

“Ben!”, you said, louder this time, your voice breaking through the haze of anger and frustration between you. He froze beneath you, momentarily taken aback by the force of your voice, the clarity of your words cutting through the storm raging inside him.

“I know you’re hurt!”, you continued, your voice strong and unwavering, your breaths coming fast as you held his gaze. “I didn’t say anything wrong, Ben! I’m still here, still with you, still having your damn back! But you don’t get to use that against me. You don’t get to push me away because you’re afraid to let someone in”.

For a moment, he just stared up at you, the tension in his jaw slowly easing, his eyes flickering with something beyond the anger he’d been holding onto all night. Vulnerability. Fear. A struggle he’d tried to bury deep. His hands, which had been gripping you tightly, loosened as his shoulders slumped, the weight of your words landing heavily on him.

You took a steadying breath, feeling the distance between you begin to soften, the barriers he’d put up showing their first cracks. “You think it’s easy for me?”, you asked, your voice softening but still fierce. “You think I haven’t tried, again and again, to break through to you? To be there for you, even when you’re like this?”.

He swallowed, his gaze finally lowering as if he couldn’t face the truth you were forcing him to confront. The anger that had fueled him seemed to drain away, leaving him exposed, stripped down to the raw pain he’d been so determined to hide.

You slowly started to lift yourself off him, reaching for your robe from the side of the bed, ready to pull away and give both of you a moment to breathe, a moment to untangle from the tension that had built up between you. But just as your fingers brushed the fabric, you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, stopping you.

He pulled you back, his grip firm but not rough, drawing you toward him with an urgency that felt different—less about control, and more about something unspoken. Before you could protest, he guided you back onto the bed, hovering above you again, his eyes searching yours, that glimmer of vulnerability still present, though heavily guarded.

You turned your head to the side, still hurt, still processing everything that had just unfolded between you. A part of you wanted to pull away, to tell him that his actions had crossed a line. But then, as his hand found your cheek, you felt a gentleness in his touch that made you pause, a softening in his gaze that hinted at the apology he couldn’t seem to find the words for.

Slowly, he moved against you, easing himself back inside, his motions deliberate, careful this time, as though he were trying to make up for the roughness from before. His forehead rested against yours, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw, his breath warm, his touch featherlight, contrasting sharply with the anger he’d shown moments before. You could still feel a lingering ache, but the change in his demeanor softened the edges of the pain, making it feel less like an injury and more like a quiet plea for understanding.

He hesitated, his hand tracing over your cheek, his eyes searching yours as if trying to convey the words he couldn’t say aloud. There was a moment where you thought he might actually apologize, where you could feel the struggle in his gaze, the hesitation, the weight of the walls he’d spent so long building.

But instead, he just tightened his hold on you, drawing you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he moved with a slow, almost tender rhythm. His silence spoke volumes—a complex mixture of regret, frustration, and an apology he couldn’t bring himself to voice.

You let him hold you, choosing to meet him in that unspoken space, allowing the tenderness of his actions to fill in the gaps that words couldn’t. And though the pain lingered, there was a small comfort in feeling him soften, even if he couldn’t fully open up. For now, this was his way of reaching back toward you, of bridging the distance he’d created.

His breath was warm against your neck as he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear, “I love you… I don’t wanna lose you”. The words were fragile, raw in a way that was rare for him, and you felt the weight of them settle deeply, reaching places his anger and hurt couldn’t.

He continued moving slowly, each thrust measured, gentle, as though he was holding himself back, fully present in a way he hadn’t been before. His hands cradled your hips, steady and grounding, and you could feel the intensity behind his every touch, his quiet attempt to show the care he hadn’t given earlier. With each careful motion, you felt the initial discomfort start to ease, your body beginning to respond, softening into his rhythm, letting go of the pain and resentment piece by piece.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, letting your hands find his back as you held him, feeling the tension in his muscles gradually give way. He nuzzled against your neck, pressing soft kisses along your jawline, his movements unhurried, his breathing syncing with yours. There was something almost vulnerable in the way he touched you now, as though he was finally allowing himself to be seen, to let down his guard, if only for this fleeting moment.

“I’m still here, Ben”, you whispered back, your voice soft but firm. “I’m here because I love you, too. But you can’t keep pushing me away like this. Not if we’re going to make this work”.

He stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours again, absorbing your words, his gaze softened, and in that silence, you felt the quiet acknowledgment, the silent agreement that hung in the space between you.

Slowly, he resumed his gentle pace, his hands trailing over your skin, grounding you both in the intimacy of the moment. Each touch, each kiss, each movement felt like a new understanding, a promise not spoken but felt deeply.

You tried to focus on the present, to let yourself sink into the softness he was offering, his movements gentle now, each touch infused with the quiet vulnerability he was so rarely willing to show. He was trying—so hard—to bridge the distance he’d created, to bring you back to him. But no matter how you tried to let yourself feel grounded in the moment, the ache from earlier still lingered, keeping you on the edge of something raw and unspoken.

Sensing your hesitation, Ben reached up, his hands moving to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. He looked at you deeply, his gaze softened, searching, as if he were trying to reach the parts of you he’d hurt.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead—a gentle, reverent touch that made you close your eyes, feeling a warmth spread through you despite everything. When he pulled back, his voice came in a whisper, barely audible but filled with sincerity. “I’m sorry”, he murmured, the words rough but real, as if he’d struggled to pull them from a place he hadn’t touched in years. “I’m sorry… and I love you”.

He paused, his gaze never leaving yours, his hands firm on your face as he grounded himself in this vulnerable moment. “I need you”, he continued, his voice low, laced with something raw and pleading. “Don’t leave me”.

It was the first time he’d ever said anything like that to you—the first time he’d admitted a fault, or offered any kind of apology, much less a heartfelt one. You could feel the weight of it, the struggle it must have taken for him to get to this place, to peel back those layers of armor he always wore so proudly.

“I won’t”, you whispered, your voice barely steady, trembling with the mixture of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored your own, a raw, unguarded look that spoke louder than any words could. Before either of you could say another word, he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both fierce and tender, as though he were trying to convey everything he felt—all the unspoken apologies, all the love, all the fear of losing you—in that one touch.

His fingers slid down, entwining with yours, and he gently pressed your hands beside your head, grounding you in the intimacy of the moment. With his fingers laced through yours, it was as if he were silently asking for trust, for a promise that you would hold onto each other despite everything.

He shifted his angle, his movements slow and deliberate, each thrust deeper but gentle, filling you in a way that felt like an apology, a vow, a reminder of what you meant to each other. His forehead rested against yours, his breaths mingling with yours as he moved with a newfound reverence, each touch a careful attempt to bridge the rift he’d created.

You let yourself relax into him, allowing the tension and hurt to melt away bit by bit, your bodies finding a rhythm that felt like a quiet reconciliation. His hands squeezed yours, grounding you in the here and now, his gaze never leaving yours, as if he wanted to make sure you felt every ounce of the love he’d finally let himself admit.

“Stay with me”, he murmured softly, his voice barely a whisper, each word carrying the weight of his plea. You could feel the sincerity behind them, the raw honesty he’d been holding back, and you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, silently promising that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere.

In that moment, the anger, the tension, and the pain from earlier began to fade, replaced by a tenderness you hadn’t felt from him in a long time. As he held you, moving with a slow, deliberate care, you felt something deeper settle between you—a quiet understanding, a shared trust that had finally begun to take root.

And as the night went on, you let yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace, feeling, for the first time, that the walls he’d kept around himself were starting to come down.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

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[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 36. an overwhelming realisation

(wc: 2.601 but its worth it TRUST ME..)

it was only around 17:30 when karina, minjeong and you had finally made it back to your apartment complex. even though you initially didn’t plan on purchasing anything, you had returned back bags full of clothing and whatnot as the two had decided to shower you with birthday gifts. of course you had protested, they just didn’t care.

“my legs feel so sore.” you humoured in slight pain, leaning against the the wall of the elevator. “at least we had fun, right?” and minjeong was right. you responded back with a small smile and nod, changing your view to karina who was stuck on her phone. “who are you texting?” you questioned. karina hummed in response, looking up before pushing her phone into her pocket. “no one.” she casually answered back.

with sudden movement, karina had reached forward and tugged the shopping bags out your hands, leaving you barely any time to register it. “i’ll bring these to your room, minjeong has a present for you in her room so you should get off on the third floor with her.” karina suggested, reaching back to grab your purse too. the elevator’s door had opened, leaving you not much choice as karina urged the two of you out before pressing the close button.

you watched the lift go up to the fourth floor and turned to minjeong with a dumbfounded stare. “what was that about?” you mused with a slight laugh. minjeong smiled back at you, nodding her head down the corridor of the third floor. “lets go.” you wondered what both their issues were as minjeong was already walking ahead of you without any other words following.

instead of words, it was you that was following her and you couldn’t help but think there was something off about the silence minjeong remained in. you two reached her door and she turned back to look at you. “i forgot my keys at jaemin’s place, can you get them for me?” she requested with a slight plea, already holding you by the shoulders and pushing you towards jaemin’s door.

again, you were left with no other choice but to comply. jaemin’s room was right next to hers anyways, and you questioned why in the world she couldn’t get it herself. you knocked on his door, and the sound of muffled voices infiltrated your hearing before it went quiet. ‘come in’ was all you heard after, the voice being nothing like jaemin’s distinguishing one. you hesitated, but eventually opened the door to enter jaemin’s dimly lit apartment.

it took you by surprise, the way the dark room had lit up and a chorus of cheers erupted as you entered. your eyes scanned the whole room that had been filled by your 3rd and 4th floor neighbours, all carrying a variant of party decorations. you were even more surprised to see mark and rei, both of them pulling you into the room. “happy birthday (—)!” rei cheered, dragging you to the middle of jaemin’s living room.

at a loss for words, you just gaped at your surroundings, a warmth swelling in your chest. “this wasn’t needed.” you shied away, too embarrassed by all the sudden attention on you. mark, who had found a spot right next to you, threw his arm around your shoulder. “of course this is needed, i’m glad jaemin didn’t listen to your words.” you hadn’t even noticed him slyly slipping a party hat on your head, because something else caught your attention.

“jaemin? this was his idea?” majority confirmed your question, and mark added that ‘both jaemin and karina planned this, they really put effort into it.’ and the surge of emotions you felt as you saw jaemin exit his kitchen with a cake in his grip were enough to almost bring you to tears. he had placed the cake down on the coffee table, carrying a small grin on his face as well as a party hat of his own. his eyes locked with yours a few seconds later.

“(—)! i know you said that you didn’t wanna do anything for your birthday, but i thought it would be nice to spend your first birthday in this apartment with everyone else.. i even invited mark and rei!” jaemin rambled. “i hope you don’t mind.. i also didn’t have time to bake the cake myself so i hope you don’t mind cake from the-”

jaemin almost toppled over from the force you attacked him with. you hugged him with the biggest smile you’ve ever had, almost choking him in the process. “this is so sweet of you jaemin, both you and karina are the best.” you took a step back, placing a hand over your stupidly huge smile. feeling the arms of someone else around your shoulder, you were met with karina who planted a chaste kiss on your cheek. “happy birthday (—), i hope you’re happy today.” it was rare that you’d see karina smile so big, but the smile on her face as she squished you into her for a hug was something you wish you’d see more often.

it was enough to finally bring you tears.

you could hear both mark and who you assumed to be jungwoo, laughing. “no way you’re actually crying.” mark asked in disbelief, though the comforting feeling of his hand rubbing up and down your back showed that it was nothing more than a friendly tease. you really couldn’t help it, and as you pulled away from karina with your eyes filled with tears, you wondered what you had done to gain such friends who’d go out of their way to plan a surprise party for you.

“you’re going to make me cry too.” rei sulked, an endearing smile on her face as she hugged you from the side. jaemin agreed, and if you looked closer, you could see the way his eyes had threatened to gloss a little. he had walked over to you, wrapping his arm around you. “i’m glad you like it, once again happy birthday! and i’m sorry for all the trouble i’ve caused you but i’m glad you’re still sticking with me despite all that.” jaemin also wore an endearing smile on his face.

“this is getting sappy.” jisung cringed from across the room. haewon pushed him aside in return, kissing her teeth at his remark. “let them have their little sentimental moment before we celebrate her birthday.” she muttered warningly. “happy birthday (—)!” isa exclaimed, and a chain reaction of birthday wishes from the rest soon followed after.

“lets cut the cake now.” mark announced right after, already reaching down to the coffee table. jaemin had left your side and rushed to the kitchen to get the utensils as well as paper boards. it gave you time to take a look at the room, it was decorated nicely and everyone was seemingly enjoying their time as they conversed over the soft music playing in the background.

it was too perfect to be to true, though something felt missing. someone was definitely missing.

“we invited him but he said he had other plans, don’t think too much about it.” as if she could read your mind, rei who was still beside you reassured you with a rub to your shoulder. your head turned to her, surprised that she could tell that you were specifically looking for him. you nodded in acceptance. she was right, after all, today was about you, donghyuck shouldn’t be a thought when you were surrounded by all the people you loved.

but it wasn’t that easy, and every now and then, your mind would wander to donghyuck’s whereabouts, as well as his words. he said he would remember your birthday, and all you could wonder for the remainder of the night was how much truth those words really held.

“so i just knock on her door and give her this and the letter?” jaehyun repeated in confirmation, and donghyuck nodded. “just wish her a happy birthday. you can improvise the rest.” donghyuck instructed while he stood in front of jaehyun, grabbing onto his hand before sliding an envelope into it. “tell her to not read it until you’re gone.”

“and do you want me to tell her this is your doing?” jaehyun asked as he started to step towards the door. donghyuck thought about it for a while, before shrugging. “only if she asks.” the response made jaehyun laugh, who’s hand was now on the door handle. “she’s not gonna believe her eyes.” donghyuck claimed with a grin, checking the time on his phone. “i think she came back upstairs like twenty minutes ago, you can go now.” haechan walked over towards jaehyun before patting him on the back. it was their last interaction before jaehyun exited the door and turned to stand right in front of yours.

in those twenty minutes in your room, you had time to come down from the high you were on. you had checked your phone to see if donghyuck had texted you anything, the time already nearing 11 pm, but there was nothing, and you’re not sure if you expected it or are disappointed because you didn’t.

a knock on your door was what broke your train of thoughts, and your first thought was that it must be one of your neighbours. your second thought was unfortunately donghyuck, and it was probably that assumption that made you rush to your front door, heart beating in what you sadly can only assume was excitement.

it wasn’t donghyuck, though you wished it was him even more now. you could feel your stomach drop as you stood face to face with none other than jaehyun himself, the guy carrying a soft smile which displayed his dimples. your heart went from not beating at all, to beating erratically, your breath being anything but regular. were you perhaps dreaming? “you’re (—) right?”

so you were not dreaming. the realisation caused panic to form in your body, your eyes widened in the process. “you’re kidding me..” you muttered. jaehyun found it quite humorous and chuckled at your state. “i heard a lot of nice things about you from mark. its nice to finally meet you.” jaehyun’s words caused your breath to hitch. there was no way jaehyun was right in front of you.

“i’m dreaming right?” you whispered in disbelief which made jaehyun smile. “haechan guessed that you’d say something like that. since it’s your birthday, i’m here with a signed EP, as well as a special envelope that you can only open once you’re inside. i hope you enjoyed your birthday and i hope mark or haechan bring you with them to my next concert, you seem like a sweet person. it was nice meeting you (—).”

it was truly too much to comprehend. you knew that the possibility of meeting jaehyun wasn’t slim due to your connection with both mark and donghyuck, but with their persistent refusals, it was merely a wish, not something you actually expected to become reality. and as jaehyun’s words sunk in, the mention of donghyuck’s name finally caught onto your ears, a subconscious smile forming in your face from it.

“thank you so much.. seriously.” you sheepishly thanked him and jaehyun nodded, taking a step back before his hand motioned into a small wave. “its nothing, i hope you enjoy the rest of your night, happy birthday.” jaehyun bid his farewells before he turned around, leaving you inside your apartment, still not grasping the unreal experience.

you closed the door to your apartment and looked down and the items in your hands. you placed the EP carefully down before opening the envelope. the whole day was full of surprises and you were once again filled with surprise as you pulled out a small paper sheet, containing a hand written letter. the hand writing reminded you of a familiar one that you had seen before. your eyes raked over the words that donghyuck had written to you, a stupid grin stuck on your face as you did so. you weren’t even aware of how hot your body had started to feel, or how your stomach had started to tingle at the stupid words he wrote.

your feet carried you on its own and you exited your apartment with urgent steps. your hand had reached up to knock on donghyuck’s door, and as if he could sense your presence, it had opened after the second knock.

you remember the first time you met donghyuck. he wore a simple white shirt and black shorts as well as his black framed glasses, sporting copper brown hair as he opened the door for you. you remember the resentment you felt when despite his good looks, he was an asshole to you at that time.

now, stood in front of you with the same identical attire he wore that night, you felt nothing but butterflies growing in your stomach as donghyuck looked at you with a smile you could only describe as fondness. “happy birthday sweetheart, did you like my present?” you couldn’t even be annoyed at the teasing tone in his voice, or the use of that nickname you had started to grow fond of.

all you could do was lean forward and wrap your arms around him without any warning. donghyuck stumbled back, taken aback by the sudden affection but quickly reciprocated by wrapping his own arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. and if your heart wasn’t beating like crazy itself, you’d be able to feel the way donghyuck’s heartbeat matched yours perfectly.

“what’s this about?” donghyuck chuckled, remaining his hold on you. you removed yourself from the crook of his neck and took a step back, though donghyuck’s arms remained around your waist to keep you close. you had to physically hold your smile back, not wanting to go overboard. “thank you… that was really nice of you.” you whispered, too scared that your emotions would be overwhelming if you spoke any louder.

donghyuck shrugged, looking at you in amusement. “its nothing. you said you wanted to meet him so here we are.” it felt like the more he spoke, the more your body tingled and heated up. you didn’t even know how to respond back to what he said, which allowed him to continue his words. “now that you met him, does that mean you’ll finally get over this crush you have on him?”

his words were meant to be a joke, simply referencing your previous conversation. but as you continued to stare at him, taking in just how… beautiful he looked up close like this as well as the way your heart wouldn’t stop beating, there was already an answer going through your head.

you think you already have.

your brain wasn’t in the right place, and your body moved before your thoughts did. you leaned closer to him and without much thought, placed your lips on donghyuck’s. it was nothing more than a peck because your mind had registered what you had done. you’re not quite sure why you did it, maybe it was because of the overwhelming excitement you felt, or the gratitude you had, or maybe it was the fact that he had been eyeing your lips for the past five seconds leading up to that.

your excuses didn’t matter, because just as you pulled away, donghyuck pulled you right back in himself, kissing you in the halls of the 4th floor with his hand on your jaw, so soft and delicate that you thought you were dreaming.

you had definitely gotten over jaehyun.

bonus! (haechan’s love letter draft)

previous — master list — next

notes ; happy late mark day 🥳🎊 as celebration we got… ynhae realising their feelings after 36 chapters? POP THE CHAMPAGNE AND FIRE THE FIREWORKS 🔥🎉🥳🎊🍾

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @hcvenue @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @junviadinho @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

[authorhjk1]

Choi Sooyoung Hot Pink Dress

https://search.app.goo.gl/Hyk6RNG

Hot pink

(Sooyoung X Male Reader)

Since you've hired Sooyoung as your secretary, you've wondered if her husband will ever realize how sexy her clothes are, which you make her wear, or how you have used her pussy more often in a day than he has in weeks. It was even him, who suggested her to you, after you mentioned that you were looking for one. And now, you don't fuck Sooyoung after you get off work, you fuck her several times during work and then take her home to fuck her again.

At this point, you're fucking her so often, you wonder if her husband might actually know what's going on and just pretends to be oblivious. Her outfits get more revealing each day as you test the limits, while she doesn't mind openly flirting with you. Several times the two of you almost got caught by him, but that only seemed to turn Sooyoung on even more, once she knew the two of you were safe again.

Even today, you almost laughed at how some of your male employees looked after her, every time she got up from her desk. Her long legs, her naked shoulders, her perfect ass. That dress she is wearing is completely inappropriate and yet, you are the one who told her to wear it.

All of that goes through your mind, while you're listening to her husband's presentation. You and five of your employees sit around a table inside one of the meeting rooms, while following his words. Suddenly you flinch, almost letting out a sharp groan. You lean back a little further to look underneath the table. Sooyoung is kneeling underneath it, her mouth wrapped around your cock the hand with her wedding ring on it holding your base, while her husband is only standing a few meters away.

The two of you didn't plan on doing this. While you were enjoying her blowjob, you lost track of time and only remembered too late that the next meeting would start early. So here you are, with Sooyoung stuck underneath the table, sucking you off while you listen to her husband talk.

At first you tried your best to focus and listen, but she did her best to distract you from the get go. Her lips sliding up and down your shaft, her right hand stroking your base where her lips barely reach, her other hand stroking your thigh almost lovingly, her hair that occasionally gets in her way and tickles your skin before she puts it back again. All of it makes you crazy. Silently.

Now, you're checking your watch every few seconds, while doing your best to hold on. You don't want to cum in the middle of the meeting, you doubt you'll be able to hide it. The last couple of minutes feel like a thousand years and you could swear Sooyoung is doubling her efforts as her husband reaches the end of his presentation.

You almost gasp when she removes her hand from your cock and takes all of you down her throat a second later. Her muscles tighten around your shaft while you hear her muffled chokes. You're so damn lucky that everyone is focused on the Power Point presentation and her husband speaks loud enough to cover up most of her noises.

Once it's finally over, you nod in approval, because you're unable to talk without stuttering. Your employees eventually leave the room and just as her husband walks through the door, you hear Sooyoung spit on your cock, before she strokes your length to distribute her saliva everywhere equally. It seems like he didn't hear her and as soon as he closes the door behind him, you push your chair away from the table.

"Get out of there."

Sooyoung follows your order, a mischievous smirk on her lips.

You knew from the beginning that she didn't just offer her body to you to keep her husband employed. It was obvious that she loved the idea of her husband's boss using her like a toy. But occasionally, just like during the meeting, you feel like she is the one toying with you. And of course, now you need to remind her that you're the boss.

"Bend over."

Once she is leaning over the table, you hike up her dress and align your cock with her pussy. She has been your secretary for maybe two months now and since day one you told her not wear panties at work. It makes fucking her whenever and wherever so much easier.

"Oh, fuck."

Sooyoung moans out as you push past her lips and into her pussy.

Leaning over her, you admire her naked upper back and shoulders by peppering her skin with kisses as you thrust into her again and again. You go rather slow and gentle at first, but Sooyoung's moans and her tight body soon awaken your carnal desire to just ruin her on top of this table. Reaching out, you grab a fistful of her short hair, making her back arch beautifully, while your other hand squeeze one of her butt cheeks.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight."

You groan, praising her pussy as you pound into it.

The table soon begins to shake and makes noises, but they don't compare to Sooyoung's moans and gasps. She shouts your name when you pull her hair a little harder and begs you for more when you slap her ass.

But eventually, you can feel how your orgasm is building. The meeting felt like an eternity, but fucking Sooyoung seemed to only last a second. You're still contemplating on where to cum as she looks over her shoulder at you, her hair now free as you use both your hands on her waist to pull her onto your cock.

"Cum all over me. Paint my body."

Her moaned request makes you grip her waist even tighter. You wish you weren't at work right now. Cuming all over her while she's still wearing that dress sounds like a beautiful sin. But you know that that would be too far.

You can feel how you only have a couple of thrusts left and quickly make a decision. It takes you a little bit of effort to pull out of her tight pussy, Sooyoung's lower lips gripping your cock like a vice. But once you do manage that, you pull her closer. Still bent over, her head is now resting on the edge of the table. You dig your fingers into her hair again, pinning her cheek against the wooden surface.

When you finally orgasm, you paint her right cheek completely white with your cum. Sooyoung gasps at it's warmth hits her skin and opens her mouth when she feels it slowly dripping down. After squeezing all of your cum out, you stumble back into the chair and stare at Sooyoung, who's still bent over the tae, her face on its surface. You watch how she does her best to capture the cum, which is partially falling off her cheek, with her tongue.

Eventually, her cheek is only glistening with a thin layer of your cum. Sooyoung stands up and pulls the hem of her dress down again, before looking at you.

"My parents in law are coming over for dinner so I have to stay home tonight."

You nod in understanding as she walks towards the door.

"I'm gonna ask my husband to invite you too. What do you want me to wear?"