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lovrre · 2 days ago

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|HAUNTED

Wally Clark x blk female reader

Word count: 6k.

Warnings: cursing, mentioned of death, smut, unprotected sex, a little bit of cock warming, slightly rough. And probably some other stuff

Summary: The ghost of Wally Clark has been stalking Y/N since she step foot inside of Split River High, his obsession only growing as the years went on. During her last year of high school Y/N finally gets to meet secret admirer…

Author note: I found this in my draft from early season one and haddd to finish it because it's so good, this is also like very season on Wally which isn’t that different but it’s differentt!. This wasn't supposed to be so long but now you understand why it took 8 years enjoy pookies.💋

Wally watched kids come in and go from that school year after year and had no interest. Until you, you had a presence that demanded attention, and he had no issue giving it to you. Your pretty face, smooth skin, and sweet laugh were enough to keep him intrigued for a lifetime. He knew you couldn’t see him, but he didn’t care, he’d follow you from the minute you walked on campus to the moment you went home. He’d read your friends' texts over their shoulder to see if you were still coming and if you were even a minute late.

Sometimes, when you’d fall asleep in the study hall, he’d sit next to you and play games on your phone and pretend you knew he existed. (He knew your password, of course). Sometimes he’d go through your messages and notes to get a better understanding of you. At first, he felt guilty, but then it became the highlight of his day. Seeing pictures of what you did outside of school and who you hung out with. What boys were you talking to too? He knew it was silly, but he got jealous every time he opened your phone to see you were texting your ex again.

“C’mon girl, what happened blocking his ass?” Wally mumbles, putting his feet up on the table in front of him. You mumble something like you can hear him and Wally sits quietly for a second, enjoying the fantasy.

It was a Friday and your best friend convinced you to keep her company at the football game as she cheered for her boyfriend. You usually didn’t come to games, but you weren’t opposed to it. You sat on the cold bleachers trying to concentrate on the game even though the cold ass air blowing in your face was making it almost impossible. Kat was getting you two hotdogs. So Wally decided to keep you company, (even though you couldn’t see him). During the game, your eyes drifted to a Wally Clark memorial on the scoreboard.

“Who’s Wally Clark?” You ask the empty seat next to you, forgetting Kat was away getting the hotdogs. When the words left your mouth, Wally felt like his heart dropped in his stomach. He didn’t know how to react. When you remember Kat left, you pull out your phone to Google. Wally looked over your shoulder into your phone intently as you searched for “Wally Clark Split River High School” in the Google search bar.

Wally couldn’t help but celebrate at just the idea of you knowing he even existed. He watched as he read an article with his least favorite picture in the upper right corner. “Aww…he was such a cutie,” you say, letting out a small sigh. “You think?” Wally asked with a big smile on his face, forgetting for a second you couldn’t hear or see him.

“That line was long as hell”, Kat says, waddling through the bleachers with two hotdogs in hand. “I told you to wait until half-time,” you say, taking a hotdog from her. “Then it would have been WORSE if that was even possible,” Kat says getting herself situated. “Probably,” you say slightly muffled taking a bite of your hotdog. Wally watches everything in awe, just happy he’s been acknowledged, and called cute. You finish chewing and wiping your face with a napkin Kat brought. “You ever heard of Wally Clark?” You ask, stuffing the napkin in your pocket. “The guy's name on the banner thingy?” Kat asks seconds away from stuffing her hotdog in her mouth. “Yeah, I just looked it up, he was a footballer player here in the 80s, he got tackled on the 5-yard line and broke his neck, died on the scene, ”

“ Technically I didn’t-“ Wally tries to cut in.

“-Damn,” Kat says, still muffled by the hotdog in her mouth. “I know, right? "He was a cutie too”, you say, showing Kat the picture of your phone. “DAMN”, Kat says, mouth still full. “Right?” You say, nodding with a smile of agreement. Wally sat behind you smiling ears to any of the other ghosts he’d look insane. “Rest in peace beautiful”, Kat says, finally swallowing her food, looking up at the sky, shaking her head from side to side. You laugh and do the same. “Ooo you should do one of your rituals and try and connect with him like you did with Lee,” Kat says, taking a sip of her drink.

“Hard pass,” you say, trying to return your focus on the game in front of you.

“Why not?” Wally and Kat say at the same time. “It worked, didn’t it? "You can have a hot ghost friend?” Kate says before taking another bite. “ Yes, but I don’t do that shit anymore, I get nightmares,” you say taking another bite of your food. “Welp, who’s winning ?” Kat says sitting back slightly returning her attention to the field. “I have no idea,” you say making the both of you laugh.

On Monday you stayed after school a little later to study. You only did three assignments before passing out like you usually did. Wally had been a bit busier so he didn’t have time to watch you as intently. As he usually did, but when he found you in the library, he pulled out the chair next to you and started doodling on the edge of your paper. Once he was bored with that, he picked up your phone and started his daily scroll. He scrolled through TikTok for a minute, then Instagram, and found nothing fascinating. Then he went to your camera roll and his heart dropped. There were pictures after pictures of him. You went on a deep dive after the game. Something about Wally felt familiar, you just wanted to know everything. You found out his mom was your neighbor and that you two even shared a birthday. You wonder if you were born at the same time as you were friends or if was he the dick jock type.

“Someone’s got a crush”, Wally says smugly, scrolling through the screenshot of him on your phone. You quickly jump out of your sleep like you’ve heard a loud noise. You jump back once your eyes land on Wally. “Can you see me?” Wally asks, unable to hide his excitement at the possibility. “Excuse me? "Is there any reason in particular you’re so fucking close to me WHILE I'm SLEEPING?” Wally tries to answer but just starts stuttering. He looks familiar to you, but you don’t know where you're from. “AND WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE MY PHONE,” you say, attempting to grab the phone outside his hand. Your hand goes straight through his palm like he’s not even there, and you try the same thing again. And suddenly it hits you, “the football player?” You say not even sure of yourself.

Wally gives a small nod the fear from your interaction seconds ago still on his face. “Oh, this is a dream” you smugly laying back on your seat. “No, I don’t think-“ Wally starts, but is cut off by you. “No, I have these sometimes when I get obsessed with something,” you say laying your head back on the table. “You’re obsessed with me?” Wally asked the big smile from earlier right back. “Obsessed is a big word,” you say putting your head down” A word that YOU used,” Wally says with a smirk.

“Doesn’t matter because this is a dream” you say, closing your eyes.

“It’s not”

“It is”

“It’s not!”

“It is!”

“ it. Is. not”

“Yes.it.is.”

“Are you OK sweetheart?” the librarian says, placing her hand on your shoulder. Suddenly, you become very aware of the fact that you have been yelling. “Yeah, sorry I was just trying to tell-“

“-Good, good because I overheard you talking to yourself. "I was worried you’d lose it”, she says with a small chuckle.

“Oh uh… I talk in my sleep sometimes, it’s terrible, eyes open and everything. "Thanks for checking up on me though,” you say with a tight-lipped smile, before beginning to quickly pack up your stuff, internally panicking. “Nice save”, Wally says when she finally leaves. You ignore him speedily, walking out of the library.

“Hello? Y/n, can you still see me” You continue to ignore him walking to a hidden corner of the school. “HEY, HEY, HEY I know we got off on the wrong foot but don’t ignore me that’s brutal”. You quickly pull your phone out of your pocket holding it to your ear. “Hello?” You say almost embarrassed. “You know the phones off right?” Wally asks scrunching his face in confusion. “Yes dumass, I’m trying to not look completely insane,” you say trying to keep your voice down.

“Oh,” Wally says sounding a little defeated. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be a Dick, I’m just not trying to go back to a mental hospital,”

“You’ve been to the nut house before?” Wally asks lifting an eyebrow. “Yes, and nobody calls it that anymore,” you say walking down the hallway phone still to your ear. “Oh, my bad,” Wally says trying to keep up with you. “it’s ok you didn’t know,” you say checking the time on your phone. “Shit I gotta go,” you say walking a bit faster, “wait wait wait,” Wally says standing in front of you in an attempt to keep you from leaving. “I’ve been watching you since sophomore year, And I know how weird and crazy that sounds but you don’t know me I think I know you pretty well, And I don’t know if you know this but, “This” he gestures between the two of you.

”isn’t normal, This isn’t like an everyday occurrence, I haven’t spoken to a Living person since the 80s. So I’d like to talk to you before you run back home” Wally says speaking a mile a minute.

“Wally- Wally right?” You say slightly unsure. He nods “Well Wally, I’d love to, I really would but this just seems like it’s gonna end up with me on more medication than I’m already on or a 48-hour involuntary hold wearing grippy socks. I don’t know if you know this but TALKING to ghosts is also something that doesn’t happen every day, and quite frankly I don’t know if you’re real or some hallucination, and I’d rather not find out.” You say walking away from him.

“Wait- let me prove it to you,” Wally says catching up to you.

“How will you do that?”

“Just follow me”

Wally runs ahead down the empty hallway and you follow him until you two stop in front of your now-empty history class. “Open it,” Wally says gesturing for you to turn the knob. You do and surprisingly it opens, you’re greeted by a dark empty classroom. “Why am I here again?” You ask Reaching for the light switch. “No, Don’t turn it on,” Wally says with his hand slightly outstretched. “The janitors walk past this room a lot and they’ll come and check if the lights are on, use your phone flashlight,” Wally says jumping up to sit on the teacher’s desk. “ok…” you respond with a nod and drop your hand from the light switch.

“How does this prove you're real again?” You ask turning on your phone flash. “Because I’ll tell you exactly what’s in Mr. Kankerys desk,” he gives it two hits to bring attention to the desk under him. “then you’ll check and if I’m right, which I will be, because I’m real, Dead, but real” Wally says with a chuckle,

“ok, what’s in the desk?” You ask walking a little closer to Wally. “ wait, Stay over there” Wally says jumping off the desk and opening the drawer. “Ok so…there’s a stapler on the left next to some color-full sticky notes and a blue calculator.

There are also a couple of old lady candies scattered around. “Ok, you’re turn,” Wally says moving from behind the desk. You walk behind the desk and open the drawer to see exactly everything Wally described. “shit…it’s all here” you mumble under your breath. “Is that a bad thing?” Wally asked confused by your reaction. “I don’t know…what if I saw what was in his desk while asking for help or something and just imagine you looking at I’m just talking to myself right now.” You say your words coming out a mile a minute. “We both know you haven’t walked up to Mr. Kankerys in at least 4 months,” Wally says stealing candy from his desk.

“Yeah…..Wait how do you know?” You ask scrunching your eyebrow in confusion before quickly remembering. “Oh yeah…that whole stalking me since Sophomore year thing,” you say walking from behind the desk. “Uhhhh I wouldn’t call it stalking, more like admiring from a distance…or sometimes not so distant,” Wally says walking slightly closer. “Oh!” You say surprised. “So You’ve been watching me sleep and stuff?” You ask slightly worried. “No, no, no,” Wally rushes out. “Nothing like that, I can’t even leave here”

“Like at all?” You ask walking out of the dark classroom. “Like at all,” Wally says following behind you. “So what happens when you try to leave?” You ask walking down the hallway to your locker. “I just poof back on the field where I died,” Wally says still walking behind you. “Damn…so what can you do,” you ask opening your locker. You lock eyes with a janitor at the end of the hall and he gives you a worried slash weirded-out experience. “Shit, I forgot,” you mumble pulling out your phone and placing it in the crook of your neck. “Sorry to say that again I couldn’t hear you,” you say desperately trying to look normal. He walks away but you keep the phone up to your ear.

“ to answer your question, not much, I can eat, I can interact with everything, but it just won’t change the living world. Like with your phone, I can pick it up on play on it but as soon as you leave with it, it leaves too” Wally says leaning against your locker as you stuff your book bag. “ OMG YOU WENT THROUGH MY PHONE TOO!” you yell almost dropping the phone from your shoulder. “Ummm” Wally hums not knowing how to answer. “…yeah, but not like in a creepy way, like in an I’m bored I have nothing else to do way,” he says trying not to scare you off.

“Okkk….well it was nice to meet you Wally, but the sun is almost completely down and I have to get home before that happens so... I think this is where we say our goodbyes,” you say putting on your coat. “Can we hang for just a little longer, I haven’t talked to a living person in yearssss, Years y/n, PLEASE just 20 more minutes” Wally asks almost begging.

“I can’t, I wish I could but I have to get home before my mom goes to work” Wally's face visibly drops “Here let’s make a Deal,” you say closing your locker. “We meet again tomorrow at lunch, in the library”

“What if it doesn't work?”

“Then it was nice to meet you,” you say with a smile

“But I have soo many questions,”

“Well you can ask me while I walk,” you say putting on your book bag and being your walk away.

“Are you a Chris still together?”

“Wow you really know all the tea”

“Yes or no times ticking” Wally says tapping on his bare wrist.

“No, we broke up last month”

“Did Kat ever find that expensive bracelet?”

“No, she didn't”

“ ok, I know The pink haired girl who used to be in your class stole it”

“What-Anne?” you ask genuinely confused.

“ yep, she's been wearing it since the first semester, she added a K charm on it”

“Oh my god…I asked her about that too,” you say slightly shaking your head. By the existing doors. “are those all of your life-alternating questions?” you ask, the rays from the setting sun outside on the side of your face. “No, but I'll ask the rest tomorrow,” Wally says looking into your eyes. The pre-existing crush plus the sunlight make you look like an angel. “Tomorrow,” you say with a nod “It was nice to meet you, Wally,” you say giving him a sad smile. Wally watched you leave through the exit doors a for the first time in a long time he felt alive.

~~~~

The next morning you woke up more confused than you had been in a long time. Did you dream all of it, was he really a ghost, was everyone right were you actually a nut case? You didn’t know all the answers but you did know you were late for school. You hurried to get ready putting in a little extra effort just in l look case your hot ghost wasn’t a figment of your imagination. On the way to school, you picked up Kat and stopped for a Big burger.

“Is that all?” the worker asked over the speaker after you finished Kat's order. “Uhh, no could I also get two big burgers with extra cheese one with extra tomato” you order leaning your head out the window slightly. “Your total is $21.35 you can pull up to the next window. “Thank you,” you say before driving up the window. “Extra hungry today” Kat chuckles looking through her purse. “Didn’t eat dinner” you lie.

Lunch felt like it took years to arrive, as greedy as you were you never found yourself so excited for lunch. You convinced yourself it was because you wanted to know you weren’t crazy and not because you just wanted to see Wally again. You sat at your usual study table waiting for something, anything that showed signs of life or at least undead life but it was started to seem like you’d be eating two Big burgers for lunch.

“Miss me?” You hear from behind you making you jump. “Shit, sorry I didn’t want to scare you” Wally apologized quickly sitting down in the chair next to you. “What took you so long I was starting to think I really lost it,” you say slightly irritated. “You usually wait outside Kates class before lunch so I went there, and then when I got here you were reading that book you like so I didn’t want to interrupt and I usually just watch so-“ Wally cuts himself off taking in your facial expression.

“Too creepy?” He asks raising an eyebrow

“a little” you nod, you see someone watching from the corner of your eye so you put in an earbud. “You wanna go somewhere a little more private” Wally whispers “Here’s fine” you respond with a shrug. “Is it?” Wally asked looking around at the library packed with students.

“Come on, I know a place,” Wall says standing up. “I’d like to remind you that people can still see me, please don’t lead me anywhere that can get me expelled,”

Wally leads you to a room on the first floor hidden behind some old door in a corner of the school you haven’t seen before. “You think anyone saw us-well me” you correct “I don’t think so, and there are no cameras in this wing, hasn’t been updated since the 90s,” Wally says cutting on the lights to reveal a slightly dusty old teachers' lounge that looks more 70s than 90s.

“You hang here often?” You say dusting off an orange couch before sitting down. “Only when I want some privacy,” Wally says sitting next to you on the couch while also giving you your own space. “ why would a ghost need privacy?” you chuckle. “I mean I still” Wally starts but you cut him off “Eww on this couch,” you say laughing “No, no, not that- well that too, but I mostly come here when I don’t want to be bothered”

“Bothered by who? Are there other ghosts?” You asked interested “Yep, there’s a good bit of us here” You scrunch your face in confusion as you take the burgers out of your bag, “ I wonder why I can only see you,” you think out loud grabbing your water bottle. “Maybe we have a special connection?” Wally suggests with a flirty smile “Maybe” you shrug looking for napkins in your bag.

“Is that for me?” Wally asks pointing to the other burger you put on the coffee table. “Mmh” you nod with a mouthful, Wally grabs the burger unwrapping it excitedly.

“A Big burger with extra cheese and tomatoes, I haven’t had one of these in forever” Wally announces excitedly before taking a big bite. “How did you know?” Wally asks his mouth still full. You finish chewing before answering, “You said you could eat and I read it was your favorite on your obituary” you say before taking another bite. “Who’s the stalker now?” Wally says with a smug smile as he takes a bite. “Still you” you respond covering your half-full mouth causing him to chuckle.

This had become your routine—lunch in the lounge with Wally. Kat had a different lunch period, so she never questioned why you always ate alone. Some days, you grabbed food from the cafeteria; other days, Wally asked you to bring something special, something he hadn’t eaten in years. You quickly learned that while he could interact with food, he couldn’t consume it in the living world. So, you shared. It was an odd arrangement, but you liked it. You liked him.

~~~

The air was crisp as you stepped outside, the garbage bag swinging lightly in your grasp. The scent of damp leaves lingered in the evening breeze, the sun close to setting. As you reached the trash bins, a movement from the neighboring yard caught your eye.

An old woman, frail but steady, stood just outside. Shimming a blue cardigan over her shoulders. Her white hair was neatly curled, and her wrinkled hands trembled slightly as she gripped the railing. You had seen her before, countless times, in passing but it wasn’t until now that recognized her.

Wally’s mother.

You stopped in your tracks at the realization. You had seen her picture before, in old articles and on Wally’s obituary. His only family. The woman who had pushed him to be the best, and in doing so, had lost him forever.

She glanced up, her tired eyes meeting yours.

“Evening,” she greeted her voice kind but carrying the weight of loneliness.

You hesitated before offering a sweet smile. “Evening, ma’am.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Her expression brightened, and she took a few small steps toward you. “I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced,” she said. “I’m Mrs. Clark.”

You nodded. “I’m Y/N. I live just over there.” You gestured toward your house behind you.

“Oh, so close!” she mused, then chuckled softly. “I swear, I hardly know my neighbors these days.”

There was something achingly sad about the way she said it. Before you could dwell on it, she clapped her hands together suddenly.

“I just was making dinner and made a little too much stew,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Would you like to come inside? It’d be a shame to let it go to waste, if you don't eat it, it'll just get frozen, lost in my abyss of a freezer.” She chuckles

You hesitated, but the eager look in her eyes made it impossible to refuse. “Sure,” you said with a small smile.

Her home smelled warm and like spices and slow-cooked broth, a scent that wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. The house was modest but well kept, though there was an undeniable emptiness to it. You could tell it was once a home. Old school Pictures of Wally and other family members decorated the wall. Wooden steps worn out in the middle from years of use, you imagine Wally walking up and down them, as a child or teenager leaving for school and such.

“So, what school do you go to, honey?” Mrs. Clark asked as she placed the bowl in front of you breaking you out of trance.

“Split River High,” you answered, picking up your spoon.

Her hands stilled slightly before she sat across from you. “My son went there,” she said, her voice softer now. “He… passed away some years ago. On your football field.”

You nodded, feigning a casual curiosity. “Wally Clark right? I’ve heard of him.” You downplay, “my teacher said he was a great kid very…personable” you chuckle.

Her eyes brightened slightly, followed by a sad smile. “He really was” She rose suddenly, moving toward the bookshelf. “A lot of people don't know but Wally was quite the handsome young man, he used to have girls line up at the door” His mother reminisced with a chuckle. “ should have seen the flowers those girls left on my porch after the wake” she chuckles, “but it was Girls like you he especially liked”

“Like me?” You ask slightly confused

“Pretty girls,” she clarified “With nice smiles and brown skin, he’d like you ,” she says causing you to involuntarily smile. “can see him now in mind catching glimpses of you across the living room, stuttering over his words” she smiled again to herself.

“I have pictures! Would you like to see them?” She asks breaking herself from her trance.

Before you could answer, she was already pulling out a large photo album. She settled beside you, flipping through the pages with a kind of reverence only a mother could have.

And there he was, Wally. His grin was the same, full of cocky charm, his big brown eyes bright with life. In one photo, he stood in his football uniform, helmet tucked under his arm. In another, he was just a kid, quite the chunky one , no older than ten, holding up a trophy with pride.

“This is when he was still my chunky monkey,” she chuckles finger tracing the picture. “Used to scarf down damn near the whole kitchen before he hit puberty and got tall, I told him my kitchen was not an all you can eat”

It was your turn to chuckle “his appetite was always big?” you smile.

“always” she responds amused flipping the page. She landed on a picture during a college tour, the together smiling holdings flags with the school logo.

“He was such a determined boy,” Mrs. Clark said, her voice thick with emotion. “determined to make me pleased”. She sighed, her fingers ghosting over a picture of him laughing at his last birthday party, cake on his chin. “I pushed him too hard”

You swallowed, unsure what to say.

Instead, you listened.

You listened as she told many stories bout his stubbornness, his humor, and his love for extra cheese on everything. About how he’d sneak out past curfew, how he once tried to fix a broken fence and made it worse, how he never left the house without saying goodbye.

And for a moment, Wally wasn’t just a ghost. He was someone’s son. Someone’s whole world.

You stayed longer than you meant to, eating warm stew and flipping through pages of his life. When you finally left the comfort of the couch to use the bathroom, you walked past an open room door. The light blue walls of a room catch your attention. You reverse taking two steps back, curiously, and you peek inside, before checking down the steps to see Mrs. Clark seated on the couch. You open the slowly sliding into the room. “ it was undeniably Wally’s. Almost every genre of Old movie poster scattered the wall, two or three tasteful Playboys, footballs, and metals on top and the floor of his dresser.

You walked over to his bed, sitting on it softly imagining what it would be like to be here with him, watching him fill the space of the small room. You looked around the room Against your better judgment you bent down to smell his pillow hoping Ms. Clark was still downstairs. you inhaled the smell of old wood almost masking his sent, it was so light you almost didn't catch it, a mixture of cologne like a musk and grease most likely from his hair. All these years later and you could smell Wally on his sheets. You savor it for as long as you can without being overly creepy, not knowing if you’ll ever get the chance to smell him again.

You stand up from the bed looking around once more, an untouched prom suit hanging in the closet stopped you in your tracks cause your chest to tighen, how was it possible you were grieving someone you could still speak to every day? You turn your attention to his wooden desk filled with a bunch of items. Old movie tickets, sketches, and lots of composition notebooks. A gold ring catches your eye, lying on top of some dog tags you assumed belonged to him grandfather.

“You can take something, if you see anything you like,” Ms. Clark says behind you causing you to jump slightly. “ I've been meaning to donate some of this stuff but…” her words die out in her throat. “I think he’d like the fact some pretty girl to have something of his more than another old lady at the goodwill,” she says with a smile. “Ok, I‘ll look,” you say with a smile, with that, she turns on her heel back down the stairs. You take the ring and on of the beat-up composition notebooks. On you way out you see a blue jersey poking out of his bottom drawer, you quickly take the jersey stuff it into your purse.

“It was nice to meet you Ms. Clark” you say with a tight smile.

“You aswell” she responds with a small nod, “feel free to visit whenever” she suggestes with a hopeful smile.

“Of course I will, you know where to find me if you never need anything”

You're Goodbye to Ms. Clark is a sweet one filled with tight hugs and a promise to visit, you left feeling like you gained a friend and simultaneously also like you lost one.

The next day, you sat in the lounge, eating off your lunch tray in front of you, Wally moving in close behind you, leaning over eating a fry off the tray, using another to balance on his fingertip.

There was something there between you two an electricity you felt even through his undead body. But you knew better than to act on it. Wally was a ghost, and you were alive. It could never work.

That didn’t stop you from noticing him, though.

And it definitely didn’t stop him from noticing you.

Like today. It was hot, so you had on a tube top, your braids pulled back into a ponytail—exactly how he liked. Your shorts were just a couple of inches shorter than the dress code allowed, but Wally wasn’t complaining. At the end of the day, he was still a teenage boy. Correction: a horny teenage boy.

“I met your mom last night.”

The fry slipped right through his hand and onto the floor.

“What?” He sat up, his full attention now on you.

You told him everything, minus what you felt didn’t need to be shared(aka sniffing his sheets and stealing clothes)

Wally was silent, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well It’s good to hear you’re getting along well with the in-laws,” he muttered. “OH MY GOD Wally ” you yelp “Can you be serious for one moment?“ he doesn't respond staring at you blank-faced.

“What?” You ask genuinely confused.

“That was me being serious” Wally responds causing you to roll your eyes.

“Did She pull out the albums, ?”

You nodded. “ Yep, and She has all of your stuff exactly how you left it.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips before fading into something sadder. “She was always sentimental even though she hate to admit it.”

You hesitated before reaching out, your fingers passing through his arm. You sigh internally “She misses you.”

His jaw tightened. “Yeah. I miss her too.”

A pause. Then, in a softer voice, “Did she seem… okay?”

“She’s lonely,” you admitted. “But she’s holding on.”

Wally let out a slow breath, leaning back against the couch. “I always figured she’d move away. Start fresh somewhere. Guess I was wrong.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you let the silence settle between you.

Then, after a long moment, Wally chuckled, shaking his head. “You really sat there, eating my mom’s stew, flipping through my childhood like some kind of undercover investigator?”

You smirked. “I do my research.”

He laughed at that, a genuine, full-bodied laugh that made the weight in the room feel lighter.

“Damn,” he said again, shaking his head. “I wish I could’ve seen her and you together .”

You looked at him then, his usual bravado had cracked just enough to let something real slip through.

Maybe, just maybe, the ritual was a possibility.

Your eyes returned down to the leftover food on. Your tray, you took about fry dipping it in your ketchup mayonnaise concoction before offering Wally. You didn't notice at first but a bit of mayonnaise fell on your lip. “You finished?” you asked, completely unaware of the effect you had on him. He bit his lips holding back his inappropriate joke. Unaware You wiped some mayonnaise from the corner of your mouth, and Wally’s eyes tracked the movement, laser focused on your lips.

“Yeah I feel bloated,” he joked, forcing himself to look away.

“Ghosts can get bloated?” you giggled, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“This ghost can,” he said, flopping onto the couch across from you. In reality, he wanted to lie on your couch rest his head on your thighs, and let you play in his hair. A fantasy he kept to himself when he was bored.

But today, something was different. Maybe it was the heat. Or the thought of you being in his room touching his things or Maybe it was the way you looked at him through your lashes, sipping your drink, eyeing him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. Whatever it was, the words slipped out before he could stop them.

“I wish I could touch you.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Where did that come from?” you asked, chuckling, trying to keep your cool. Wally let out a breath. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but now that it was out there, he wasn’t going to take it back.

“Do you think… if we had met under normal circumstances, you’d like me?”

Your fingers tightened slightly around your cup. “Like, or like like?”

“Like like,” he clarified.

You took a moment, pretending to think about it, but you already knew your answer. “Well, I wouldn’t have started a fan club in your honor or anything, but…” You popped a fry into your mouth, shrugging. “You’re attractive. And nice. I could maybe see myself having a little crush.”

Wally sat up straighter, intrigued. “You think I’m attractive?” He says with a cocky smile. You roll your eyes “And you maybe could’ve had a crush on me?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, You just seem like you’d be a good boyfriend,” you admitted.

Wally grinned, leaning forward. “I’d be the best boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, suddenly animated. “I’d carry your books—well, your laptop, ’cause let’s be real, who uses books anymore? I’d pick you up for school in my car, you’d love it. I had a black 1970 Chevrolet Monte Carlo, sleek as hell. We’d go on so many dates and trips, plus unlike Chris, I’d have no problem posting you on my Instagram.” He said, causing a laugh from you.

“Chris was a dick”

“Chris was a double dick,” Wally corrected. You chuckle into your hand causing Wally's face to scrunch in confusion, “What?” Wally asks like a lost puppy. “your age is showing” you laugh again unable to contain yourself. “ no one says that anymore, actually don't think anyone ever said that��

“ Well, I’m trying to say You deserve someone better, someone who is proud shows you off, Thst woudn't be a problem for me.”

You stared at him for a beat too long, your pulse fluttering. It was stupid, how easily he got to you. How easily he made you want.

“Too bad you’re dead,” you say as a joke but you sound more disappointed than you intended. “Right” Wally mumbles coming to sit next to you, bored or out of curiosity he begins trying to poke your arm, and when that doesn’t work he starts mindlessly putting his whole hand through your body. “What are you doing ?” You ask confused. “Hoping for a miracle,” Wally says throwing his head back. “There has to be a reason only you can see me, this doesn’t just happen,” he says. “I mean you’re not the first ghost I've spoken to” you admit.

.“What? You’ve talk to other ghosts?” Wally asks surprised and slightly jealous. “Well one other ghost, my older brother Lee” you say putting your cup on the coffee table. “I remember you saying something about that at the football game” Wally recalls

“You were there too?” You ask surprised “ I go with you everywhere y/n, we’ll accept the bathroom” he confessed “That’s…good to know,” you say with a smile, it was weird but you felt a sense of comfort knowing he was always around even when you couldn’t see him, like a guardian angel. “How did you speak to your brother?” Wally asks breaking you out of your daze,

“I did a ritual,” you admit. “Something my great grandma told me about. She told me where descendent from witches but she’d never really told me the history behind it. She’d flip through her big old book telling me what each spell did what.She also told me never to do it, that the spell, that lt was too unpredictable. But he died so suddenly, he had a heart defect he had always dealt but I thought it had gotten better. he Just went to sleep one night, coming back from some frat party and never woke up. He was away at college at that time an just had no closure. I just wanted to talk to him one last time, to tell him how much I loved him and missed him.”

Wally stays quiet, watching you. He never thought it was possible to feel so close to something yet so impossibly far away. Some days, he wondered if it was better when you didn’t know he existed because now, being acknowledged but unable to touch, unable to truly be with you, felt worse than being invisible. All he wanted was to hold you close, comfort you.

“The spell worked at first,” you continue. “I got to talk to him. I even got to hug him, like really hug him as if he was actually alive.” you pause takinga breath. “But then… after it was like he haunted my mind. I’d dream about him calling me, begging me to help him, to let him free. Sometimes my dreams were just red, like blood, with his screams echoing in the dark. I’d wake up drenched in sweat, screaming my chest tight. It went on for over a month. And when I finally told my parents what happened, they sent me to a mental hospital.”

Wally listens, completely still.

“While I was there, I called my great-grandma and told her everything. She said it was because I disrupted his passing—that Lee didn’t want to leave, so he tried to use me to come back.” You exhale shakily. “I don’t know what she did, but I was told she came down from Louisiana for a weekend and when I got home, the nightmares were gone. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably chalk it all up to grief.”

Wally is quiet for a long time, his fingers drumming idly against his knee. You could tell he’s thinking, the gears in his head turning as he pieces something together. Then, suddenly, he sits up straighter, eyes locked onto yours with a determination in your eye.

“You could try it again,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“The ritual,” he clarifies. “You could try it on me.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “Wally—”

“I know what you’re gonna say,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “That it’s too dangerous. That it didn’t end well last time. But it’s

different with us.”

You raise your eyebrow slightly confused “How, exactly?”

He leans forward, his gaze intense. “Because I’m not like Lee. I don’t need to reach you through dreams, and I’m not trying to cling onto life, I already exist here, with you. You see me. You hear me. I just… can’t touch you.” His voice dips slightly, frustrated. “But maybe the ritual could change that.”

You exhale, shaking your head. “You don’t know that.”

“I don’t,” he admits, “but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

You hesitate, your mind racing. Every instinct told you this is a bad idea. This is exactly what your great-grand

Ma warned you about. But then Wally looks at you, really looks at you with his big brown eyes you know you’re gonna fold.

What if it worked?

What if, for once, things didn’t end in heartbreak?

You swallow hard, in an effort to push down the thought. “…I’ll think about it.”

A slow grin spreads across Wally’s face. “That’s not a no.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Monte Carlo.”

But even as you try to play it off, you can’t ignore the way your heart pounds in your chest, in anticipation Because deep down, you already knew, you were gonna do it.

~~~~

You placed Wally’s folded jersey on your vanity inside the circle of chalk you created, your new makeup brushes replaced with lit pink candles. You’d brought up the fire extinguisher from the basement just in case and left a window open so his soul could enter. You didn’t know how to feel, a part of you felt scared that you might do something wrong and not be able to talk to Wally again, or worse you’d stop his soul from possibly moving on. But there was another part of you that felt excited, excited to Really see Wally for the first time. Look into his alive eyes touch his skin, hold his hand possibly more.

You cleaned your room top to bottom, lit one scented candle took a nice everything shower, and put on your cutest pajamas. You felt more like you were getting ready for a sneaky link than a resuscitation, but it was always better safe than sorry.

“Might as well start” you say taking a deep breath walking up to your vanity. You quickly opened the old notebook belonging to your great grandmother. Reading over ritual once more, You prick your finger with a pin causing a small drop of blood to form. Putting down the pin you smear your blood onto a small bay leaf with your request scribbled on it before taking a match to burn it. You hold the burning bay leaf in your hand until it turns completely into ash. For some unknown reasons it didn’t burn you, honesty you couldn’t even feel the heat. You pace your ash covered hand on his jersey before speaking.

I would like to speak with Wally Clark” you say with your hand placed on his jersey eyes closed . When the words leave your mouth you feel a chill down your spine. “ I invite Wally Clark into my home, his spirit, and his flesh” As you speak you feel a gust of wind through your room, there was a sense of electricity running through you, you could feel it the strongest in your fingers. “I offer my blood as his living passageway, I invite him to breathe my air, live his life if only for tonight” As soon as the final words left your mouth the wind blew through your window blowing out your candles.

When You open your eyes you’re surrounded by mostly darkness, the only light being the fairy lights above your bed. Before you could decide what to do the candles were re-lit. But nothing, with your brother, his bracelet disappeared and he appeared right in front of you but now nothing. Just when you were about to start putting everything up you felt a tap. You scream turning around when your eyes land on him.

Your hands fly to your mouth. “WALLY!”

His eyes are wide, stunned like he barely believes it himself. “It worked.” His voice is rough, breathless. “I can’t believe it fucking worked.”

You practically launch yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck, feeling his warmth, his solidity, the realness of him. His arms come around your waist instantly, holding you tight, one hand sliding into your hair. He turns his head into the crook of your neck taking in your sent. “You smell so fucking good” Wally whispered absentmindedly into your ear. He genuinely couldn’t help himself.

His words causing you to feel a shiver all the way down to your core, you’d hope for your dignity say he stop. “Thank you” you whispered slightly breathless removing your head from his chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, pressing your hands against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. You look up at him, breathless. “It’s like you’re alive.”

“I feel alive,” Wally murmurs, his hand trailing down your back, gripping your waist.

You suddenly realize how close you are, how his body heat radiated against yours, how you could smell him, just like on his pillow some type of cologne and a natural warm, not quite musk but close something uniquely him.

Your breath shudders as your fingers mindlessly trail lower, brushing over his stomach.

You glance up, suddenly shy. “Sorry. I just… I never thought I’d be able to actually touch you”

“Don't Apologize.” he says with a big smile lifting the same hand to leave a quick Kiss on your knuckle, “How long does it last?” He asks his eyes falling to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“I don’t know, a couple of hours probably, with my brother we only had two, and during the ritual, his bracelet disappeared. So I had no way of contacting him again. But your jersey didn’t disappear so…”

“I could come back again” Wally finishes with a smile. “Yeah” you respond almost dazed staring at him, it wasn’t like you didn’t see him every day but it was different now, the scent of him now lingered in the air, and you could feel the body heat radiating off of him, it was different a good Different.

“Your room just like I imagined it,” Wally says walking around. “Well with more teddy bears,” he says picking up a stuffed unicorn from the big stack of stuffed animals on your bed. “Don’t Judge, I remember your mom saying something about you sleeping with a Stuffy” you say taking the unicorn from him. “She told you about Stuffy?” Wally asked a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. “Mmh, she told me a lot of things”

Wally raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

You bit your lip, debating whether to indulge him. Finally, you shrugged. “She told me about your chunky monkey days,” you say with a sly smile. “She showed me pictures too” You continue pressing your lips together in an effort to hold your laugh.

The color drained from Wally's face instantly. “What” Wally muttered the embarrassment visible in his face. You chuckle at his reaction “Don’t worry, I think you looked cute with a little meat on your bone” you joke causing Wally to drag a hand down his face. “I can’t believe she showed you that”

You giggled,“ I think she just wanted someone to talk to, I told her I’d come over again to visit,” you say readjusting one of you’re figurines. “ will you?” Wally asks looking at you as he walks around the room. “ of course, we're friends now” you respond honestly. He smiled at you before returning his attention to your room.

You watched as he wandered around your room, fingers grazing your desk, your bookshelf, the little trinkets and photos you had scattered around. It was surreal seeing him interact with your world like this. Normally, he just hovered watching, talking, existing in a way that felt just out of reach. But now?

Now he was here.

Really here.

You couldn’t stop staring. His presence was tangible—the warmth of his body, the way the scent of cologne and old leather clung to him. His movements had weight. You could hear the soft shift of his shoes against your rug, the quiet exhale of his breath.

It made your heart race, It made you think.

“So,” Wally said suddenly, turning back to you. “You got me for a couple of hours. What now?”

You hesitated, a hundred different thoughts running through your head, but only one stood out.

“…Do you want to go for a drive?”

Wally’s expression flickered, something unreadable passing through his eyes before he grinned. “You serious?”

You nodded. “You had that whole speech about picking me up for school in your car. You loved that thing. If I were you, the first thing I’d want to do in a real body again is drive.”

Wally let out a low whistle. “Damn. You get me Girl”

You laughed, grabbing your keys from your nightstand. “Come on, before this shit wears off.”

The night air was warm, thick with the lingering heat of the day as you and Wally slipped outside. The street was quiet, the world oblivious to the impossibility of what you’d just done.

Wally looked around like he was seeing everything for the first time. The streetlights, the parked cars, the trees swaying in the faint breeze. He ran a hand over your car’s hood, fingers splayed against the cool metal, before turning to you with a soft smile.

“Shotgun,” he said.

You rolled your eyes but unlocked the doors, sliding into the driver’s seat as he got in beside you.

When you turned the key in the ignition, the dashboard lights flickered on, casting a soft glow over Wally’s face. He looked almost reverent like he was trying to soak in every detail. You pulled out of the driveway and onto the empty road, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

“This feels… insane,” Wally admitted, watching the streetlights blur past. “I forgot what wind felt like.”

You glanced over, watching the way he stuck his hand out the window, fingers cutting through the air like he was trying to hold onto it.

You smiled. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

He nodded, looking over at you. “You feel good.” Your breath hitched. Again Wally's brain spoke for him, as much as he enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face and the adrenaline of a late-night car ride. Nothing felt better than your small hands running down his chest, how your breast felt pushed up against him. For you It wasn’t just the words, it was the way he said them. Low, warm, like he wasn’t just talking about the drive. Like he was talking about you.

Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“I—” You cleared your throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Wally didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, quietly, “Me too.”

You drove for a while, neither of you in a rush to get anywhere. The town looked different, a lot different than Wally remembered but somehow it also didn't. New stores sprinkled the streets, plazas new street lights, but the roads were the same, and when you turned the corner Big Burger was exactly where it had always been. Now remodeled of course, but the bench he sat at so many times in his youth was stationed in front of the restaurant right where he left it. at night the street were quieter, softer, like it existed just for you two.

After a few minutes, Wally reached for the radio, flipping through stations until he landed on an old rock song.

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

He grinned. “What? This is classic.”

You snorted but let the music play, the familiar tune filling the car. You let your mind wander to a reality, a different time where Wally would be driving, you’d be in the passenger seat fixing your makeup and singing to music while he drove you to school. A different reality where he wasn't a resurrected ghost.

Wally leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes for a moment, just existing. And he looked alive, real. The air between you was electric. It wasn’t just the thrill of the ritual working it was the way his presence filled your space now, the way he felt real in a way he never had before. You could hear the faint sound of his breathing, feel the warmth of his body near yours, and when his fingers brushed yours when you put the car in park—whether by accident or intent—you felt it down to your bones.

More real.

More dangerous.

You parked in the driveway, shutting off the engine. Neither of you moved to get out.

“…So,” Wally said, voice softer now. “Same time tomorrow?” he joked but a sense of seriousness laced his tone. You turned to look at him, taking in the way the porch light cast shadows over his face, highlighting his strong jawline, and the dark warmth in his eyes.

Something inside you snapped, the last string of restraint.

“…Yeah,” you murmured. “Same time tomorrow,” you said you're eyes lingering on his.

“You keep looking at me like that,” Wally murmured, “and I’m gonna start thinking real crazy.”

You swallowed, pulse hammering in your throat. “Like what?”

“Like maybe you brought me back for more than just a joyride.”

Your stomach flipped. He wasn’t wrong.

The truth was, you had imagined it. Countless times. What it would be like if he were alive if you could touch him. You’d pushed the thoughts away because they were pointless, but now? Now nothing was stopping you. So you did the one thing you’d wanted to do for weeks. You reached out, placed your hand on his chest, and felt his heart beating beneath your palm. His breath hitched.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

Your fingers flexed against him, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your eyes met his, and for the first time, you saw something different in them—something hungry.

“I don’t know how long I have,” he admitted, voice rough. “I don’t wanna waste a second.”

You exhaled shakily. “Then don’t.”

That was all the invitation he needed.

Wally was on you in an instant, his lips crashing into yours, all heat and desperation. His hands cupped your face, thumbs tracing your jaw as if he couldn’t believe you were real. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

He groaned when you pressed against him, his grip tightening. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” you whispered between kisses.

You stumbled back into your room, His hands were everywhere—your waist, your thighs, slipping beneath the hem of your pajama shorts, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped when he bit gently at your neck, his voice a low growl against your skin.

“I’ve been wanting you since the first time I saw you,” he admitted, his breath hot against your collarbone. “Every time you walked around in those tiny ass shorts, every time you licked your lips when you ate—fuck.”

You arched beneath him, dizzy with want. “I want you to fuck me so bad Wally.”

His eyes darkened. “Really?” he asks almost not believing it

You nodded. “Yeah.”

And he did. Wally quickly helped you remove your top, his eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you. "God, you're fucking gorgeous," he growled, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you onto the bed with him.

You straddled his hips, grinding down against the hardness you could feel his girth pressing against your core. "Someone's eager," you teased with a chuckle before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.

"You have no idea," Wally groaned into the kiss, his hands roaming your body, caressing and squeezing every inch of exposed skin. You broke the kiss, trailing your lips down his neck and chest, pausing to bite at the skin.

"Fuck, Y/N," he gasped, his hands fisting in your hair. Grinned up at him, giving him another bite before sliding further down his body. You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs and tossing them aside. His cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

You moan at the sight electricity running straight to your center. “oh my god” you whisper wrapping your hand around his shaft and giving it a slow stroke. Wally let out a low moan, his hips bucking up into your touch. His eyes were heavy-lidded with lust. You leaned down, running your tongue along the underside of his cock from base to tip. Wally cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. Emboldened by his reaction, you took him into your mouth, sucking him deep and swirling your tongue around his head.

"Fuck, Y/N," Wally panted, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Just like that. Your mouth feels so fucking good baby."

You continued to work him with your mouth, taking him deeper each time until he hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, but pushed through, determined to bring him to the brink. Wally's moans grew louder, his hips thrusting up into your mouth as you sucked him hard and fast. He didn’t push your head down, his hand coming to your head to gather your braids into a ponytail away from your face.

"I'm going to cum," he warned, his grip on your hair tightening. "Fu- Fuck shit Y/N, I'm cumming!" With a loud groan, he bucks his hips into your mouth as he pulsed in your throat his hot seed spurting down into your stomach. You swallowed it all, every single drop and you enjoyed the feeling of his warmth dripping down your throat. Continuing to suck him until he was well spent. Whiney mess above you until he was as gently as possible trying to pull you off of his dick. “shit baby” he says whining out a moan. “ I can't take anymore” he says his voice shaking slightly.

You released him from your mouth with a pop, licking your lips. “And I thought you were innocent, Now I definitely can't let you out my sight,” Wally chuckles before he pulled you into a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep as he tasted himself on your lips.

"Your lips are so soft" he smiles against yours. You breathed when he finally broke the kiss.

"I wanna try so many things with you." He groans, With a sudden move, he flipped you onto your back, settling between your legs. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading you open for him.

"You're so fucking wet," he groaned, running a finger through your slick folds. "You get wet like this from sucking me off” he chuckles ”I can't wait to taste you." He smiles excitedly. You squirm underneath him, his finger rubbing against your clit. “You like that?” he asks with grin Rubbing his fingers against your wet center the warmth making it hard to stop. Wally enjoyed watching as your chest rose and fell faster, the small moan you contained by biting your lip. “You want me to taste you?” He asks the cocky smile never leaving his face. You don’t respond, audibly nodding eagerly. “ I want to hear you say it” Wally says with a mischievous smile. “ I want you to taste me”

Wally shakes his head, “No baby say my name”

“ I want you taste me Wally” you comply causing him to groan in satisfaction. “Good girl” he smiles

With that He leaned down, burying his face between your legs and licking a long stripe up your slit. Before looking back up at you to savor your reaction. You cried out, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. Your responses only spurred him on further

Wally groaned against your core lapping at you like a man starved. Looking back up every

once in a while to enjoy your reaction., every often to He circled your clit with his tongue, flicking and teasing the sensitive bud with his fast paced thumb until you were a writhing mess beneath him.

"Fu- Please, Wally," you begged, your hands fisting in his hair. "I can’t”

“You got it, baby, you can do it” he hummed against your cunt the vibration causing your leg to shake. “take this tongue, and ill give you this dick,” he groans talking you through it, his eyes locked onto your face. Sliding two fingers inside you and curling them just right. “Tell me how much you want it” he demands and you physically can't answer Your head falling back against the pillow. “ Tell me baby” he repeat. “ I want it so fucking bad baby” you moan out as he worked you with his fingers and tongue, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you were about to cum, he pulled back, leaving you panting and desperate.

"Not yet," he said with a wicked grin. "I want to be inside you when you cum." he groans positioning himself at your entrance. He pushes into you slowly enjoying the feeling of stretching you out until he was all the way inside, filling you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to maintain control. His hands roaming over your torso, “This is my pussy”

"You're so tight. So perfect for me." He groaned starting to move, thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper as you met him thrust for thrust. He wanted so badly to go harder to fuck you into the mattress until your legs were jello but he didn't want to hurt you.

"Harder," you demanded, digging your nails into his back. "Fuck me harder."

“ I won’t be able to stop” he warns with a chuckle and you nod in acknowledgment Wally complied happily, slamming into you with renewed vigor. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall as he pounded into you relentlessly. You were grateful your mom worked nights because you were sure your neighbors could hear you two. Wally looked down every so often to enjoy the sight of your wet cunt sucking him in. “ you take me so well baby”

"Don't stop," you cried, your walls starting to flutter around his cock. "I'm going to cum."

Wally reached between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit as he thrust into you. That was all it took to send you over the edge. You came with a scream, your body convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Wally didn’t stop chasing his orgasm pound into you until your cream coated his cock.

When he did cum he, burying himself deep, pulsing inside you. He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and sweat-slicked as you tried to catch your breath. You tried to move slightly his big now soft cock twitching inside you. “ let me stay in a little longer” he hums against your throat. His hands wander down to your waist. “ it’s so warm” he smiles against your skin bucking into you slightly, he thrusts two times before pulling himself out.

"That was... fucking incredible," Wally murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his damp curls. "It was," you agreed with a small smile.

“I don't think I’m not done yet," Wally confesses looking down between you at his somehow hard cock.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I want you from behind" Wally confesses with a smile biting at your shoulder causing you to giggle.

~~~~~

Later, when you lay tangled together in the sheets, your body still thrumming with pleasure, Wally traced lazy circles on your bare hip.

“We should make a deal,” he murmured.

You turned your head, meeting his gaze. “A deal?”

He smirked. “You summon me every night. And we do something new. Could be anything. A drive, a date, a movie…” He kissed your shoulder. “Or more of this.”

Your heart pounded. “Every night?”

“Every night,” he confirmed. “Until we figure out how to make this permanent. After tonight…” he paused his finger tracing down the spine of your back.”you're really never getting rid of me”

You turned staring at him, searching his face. He wasn’t just talking about sex he was talking about being with you.

You bit your lip. There was no way possible way this could end well but for some reason you responded “Okay.”

His grin widened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

His fingers tightened on your waist, and he kissed you again, slow and deep. His body pressing hard against you.

Suddenly a hefty breeze hit your face knocking the air from your nose. And just like that, he was gone, a poof followed by a breeze left you alone in your bed, the warmth of his hands gone. The only proof he was there was the sticky slick between your thighs. You rolled over in your bed rolling yourself tight in your blanket tears stinging your eyes and as you drifted off to sleep you wondered…what would tomorrow bring and, how the fuck where you gonna explain this to Kat?

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

#black reader #wally clark #school spirits #lovrre #wally clark x reader #Wally Clark x black reader #school spirit smut #Wally Clark x fem black reader #smut #slow burn

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moonstars-tro · 2 days ago

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definitely agree, this is absolutely something that needs to be brought to light.

i personally favor leo and donnie because their blue and purple, i always have 😭 (like honestly in every iteration it’s leo and donnie for me just because they’re blue and purple, i start from color and then love the character next. u can look at my favorite characters list and you’ll just see different shades of blue)

HOWEVER, i love raph and mikey so much and i don’t think they deserve to be dismissed or mischaracterized or ignored at all. they’re incredible characters and even moreso, incredibly well written. i do think a large factor that contributes to their lack of popularity is the lack of focus on them in the show, due to the many cut episodes (so many, poor guys… i would’ve loved more sunset duo and brains and brawn) and the lack of a full season 2 in general, it’s the cause of many issues i fear.

little rant abt my love for raph and mikey

mikey is so creative and i love how they made that a bigger part of him in rise, and he’s not ‘just a baby’ he can be childish and immature but he’s also angry sometimes, he isn’t just a manipulative crybaby like some of this fandom makes him out to be…. but he’s funny, he’s got a short temper, he loves so hard, he wants the best for everyone. he’s the baby brother but he’s also the heart and the glue and he deserves the world my baby UAGAHJ i want more attention on him i read two mikeycentric fics lately and they changed my life and one of them wasn’t finished. bc i never checked if it was my heart broke guys.

rise raph is so WELL WRITTEN that it is INSANE. like holy omigosh. he just wants the best for his little brothers but there are so many little moments in episodes that remind you that he is just a child who was forced to grow up too early. he’s so sweet and silly and he’d give the world to protect his brothers. AND HE LITERALLY DID. HE SACRIFICED HIMSEKF FOR LEO IN THE MOVIE that moment still makes me so ill sorry because he cracked his shell that HURTS. omigosh anyways i love how rise kept some small things that make him RAPH, like how he’s impulsive and likes to smash things LOL ❤️ when i first started watching i couldn’t really see how he as raph aside from being physically intimidating and then it hit me as time went on.

point is they are very loveable i feel they deserve the world and so much more attention than they get these poor guys. although sometimes people do this wrong, i don’t think we should start hating on or disssing the twins (i mean u do u i guess 😭) i just think we should start loving sunset more. because they deserve so much love and appreciation and more popularity than they get, i love mikey/raph fans so much because. they always get them so well i don’t know how to put that better, like it’s easy to understand ur favorite character so it helps me a lot with understanding them as well. (mwahaha im actually in the midst of making a mikeycentric fic wish me luuck)

AAALSO i love drawing them i used to hate it because raph’s spikes were hard (i kept making them go the wrong direction sigh) and mikey had a round face when i was used to the twins being like a square and a triangle 😭 but i got practice and they’re super fun !!!!!

leo is my favorite for blue, illusion of ego, flamboyant, funny, and he is my reference for living. i do feel genuinely attached to him but ill never let that be a reason for me to dismiss raph or mikey, they deserve love and respect and SO MYCH MORE POPULARITY. there’s so much depth to them despite the missing episodes and the fact that racism and sizeism is a reason for their lack of love is.. like, genuinely sickening.

sorry about this reblog probably being a whole lot of nothing i yap a lot

Why Rise Raph and Mikey are Unappreciated and Underrepresented in the Fandom: Leo/Donnie Favoritism, Anti-Black Racism, and Sizeism

It's refreshing to see that more Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fans nowadays seem to be waking up to the fact that Leo and Donnie get way more attention from the fandom than Raph and Mikey do. However, what's still missing from most of these discussions is exactly why that's the case.

With Raph and Mikey being voiced by Black actors (Omar Benson Miller and Brandon Mychal Smith, respectively) and Raph being a character with a big, burly physique, anti-Black racism and sizeism (in the case of Raph) are definitely factors in all of this. In contrast, Leo and Donnie are voiced by white actors, and both characters have a much smaller build than Raph does. And in the world that we live in with both anti-Blackness and sizeism, sadly and upsettingly, being the norm, it's easy to see why Leo and Donnie receive the favoritism that they do compared to Raph and Mikey.

But this favoritism doesn't just begin and end with the RotTMNT fandom because the series itself shows a preference for Leo and Donnie as well. Arguably, it's those two who receive most of the focus in the show, with many episodes revolving around them or being from their point of view.

The way both the series and the fandom downplay Raph’s parentification due to Splinter’s neglect also is a notable example of how a Black-coded and big teenage character like Raph is treated so dismissively by the creators, writers, and fans. After having raised his three younger brothers for years, Raph has his role as team leader stripped from him by his neglectful father with that role given to his much thinner, white actor-voiced brother, Leo. And, that's not even going into the proverbial mess that is the season two episode "Raph’s Ride Along," which makes light of police brutality and profiling against a Black(-coded) child. The adultification of Black children, and in this instance, specifically large Black boys, is likewise tied into the implications of "Raph’s Ride Along" as well as Raph’s treatment within the series overall. Honestly, all of that deserves its own write-up, but that'll have to be for another time.

Anyway, my point is that Raph and Mikey, especially Raph, haven't been given as much appreciation or grace by pretty much anyone, including the folks who made the series. All this also serves as a reminder for why it's important to have Black talent on all levels of production, not just as performers but as creators and producers. Or if not that, at the very least, projects should have non-Black creators who have enough know-how to portray Black/Black-coded characters adequately, treating them with as much care, attention, and respect as they would their white/white-coded counterparts. RotTMNT fans could also stand to do more questioning as to why they don't feel as drawn to represent Raph and Mikey as much as they do Leo and Donnie.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #rise raph #tmnt michelangelo #mikey tmnt #rise mikey #rottmnt mikey

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mehwmidklpe · 2 days ago

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hiiii, i have a request. So its a Percy x reader where reader and Percy meet up at the beach to go on a little date, but Percy arrived early and waits but starts to draw readere initial in the sand like a love sick puppy (and maybe starts talking about her to some sea creature) and then she comes and sees percy and just smiles and realized yup that's the love of my life:)

Thank you beforehand!!!!

that's so cute!!

Yes, Percy knows the date wasn't planned till after like 10 to 20 minutes. But what's wrong with being early to make sure everything is perfect?

After many years, Percy Jackson, the most oblivious demigod of all time finally got the courage to ask you on a date.

He hadn't expect you to call him out as an idiot for taking so long to ask that question.

But hey! At least you didn't judo-flip him. And he got a date on the beach out of it, too!

After Percy had set everything up, he was sitting on the picnic blanket, waiting for you to arrive. He was so happy, like he's litteraly a lovesick idiot.

So lovesick he found himself drawing your intial in the sand with a cute smile on his face.

But when he heard a sound and looked up, he didn't see anyone. When he looked back at the sand and the intial of the most beautiful name he'd ever heard, he saw a turltle.

"Ohh. Hey little guy! What's your name?"

He frowned as he heard the turtle answer. "No name yet? Well then I'll give you one!" He started thinking.

"Ooh! How about Leo- No, wait, not Leonardo. I know a boy named Leo. He's pretty cool, but you deserve the best ninja turtle name out there. Michelangelo." He decided.

"Yeah he's totally my favorite." He then said as he watched the turtle crawl towards the pizza he had set on the blanket.

"Woah there buddy. I know turtles love pizza. So do I. But that pizza is reserved for a special lady."

Percy felt a smile growing on his lips as the turtle spoke to him again. "Yeah.. I have a date with this amazing girl. It's our first one. I still can't believe she said yes."

The son of Poseidon hadn't even noticed a sea star coming up to him. "Oh, another friend! What's your name? Also none. Mhmm.." The boy started thinking of a name again.

"Patrick. You're definitely a Patrick." He nodded.

"Wait? About my date? You heard that?" He asked the sea star as the turle crawled atop of him.

A giddy smile rested on his lips at the thought of you. "Her name is Y/n." He looked at the turtle once he heard his voice.

"I know Mickey, that's a beautiful name. But not as beautiful as she herself." Once the star asked about you, Percy knew there was no way back.

So now he found himself talking to at least 18 sea animals. Some of them were in the sea, but you could still see them, others were sitting right infront of Percy.

And Michelangelo, of course, sat in Percy's palm.

Gods did Percy feel like a disney princess.

"Yes, Flounder, she took all of them out. Singelhandedly." Percy confirmed to the fish at the edge of the sea.

"Squidward! Language!" He said to the octopus. "But yeah she's a fucking badass." He silently agreed, but every creature heard it.

Percy turned to the other fish. "Nemo. What did I tell you? She's not going to marry you. I will be her future husband, okay?"

"Don't worry, Alberto. We'll do two weddings. One in land and one in the sea. You can all be there, I'm sure she'll love you guys!"

He then looked at the crab. "Yes Sebastian. Y/n is the most beautiful, gorgeous girl you'll ever see! She's breathtaking! Divine! Aphrodite loosk like shit next to her! I don't understand how she's not full goddess, but I can totally see her godly half."

"Why thank you, you don't look too bad yourself."

Percy froze at the sound of that voice. The voice he'd recognize anywhere. He gulped and turned around to see you in all your glory.

"Y/-Y/n." He stammered.

When he heard the voice you couldn't hear, he leaned in closer to Michelangelo on his hand.

"Yes Mickey, I told you she's breathtaking." He wishpered to the turtle, agreeing to what the turtle said about your appearence.

Oh yeah, this boy is totally your endgame.

You stiffled a giggle as you walked over to him.

It was only then that Percy let his eyes rank over your body, taking in your outfit, your hair, your eyes, everything about you.

"You look–" "I heard you the first sixteen times, Percy." You said as you sat down next to him.

You tilted your head, lookign at the sand. "Is that my name?" By now, the intial had turned into your full name with hearts and stars around them.

Percy had done that while he rambled on about you to his new sea friends.

"No? It's your dyslexia who's fooling you." Percy lied. "I can read, Percy." You state.

He stayed quiet for a bit, before his head turned back to look at you again.

"I uh.. I got us pizza! Well actually Connor traveled to new york and get me some for us. He wanted to go to Italy first, I don't really know why the plans changed." Percy said, adjusting the two boxes of pizza.

"And uh.. I got us some cola, too. Don't tell Mr. D that I stole the from him though.. Uhm.. And I got some other snacks if you–"

"It's perfect Percy. Thank you." You assure him, taking his hand in yours.

The son of Poseidon fel the heat rise up to his cheeks, and you didn't hear it, but the animals were all 'ooh-ing' and 'aah-ing'.

"Now back to the whole 'talking about me to some animals' topic. You said you wanna marry me." You recalled with a smile.

Percy froze, he had no idea what to do.

"Uhm.. Well- I didn't- I mean we're still young, a-and we're not even an actual couple so.." His voice trailed of, noticing how stupid he sounded.

You bit your lip. "If you ask me we might just be one."

Did you just say that?

Like actually?

"Uhm.. Y/n.. would you want to be my girlfrie– Wait. You're not messing with me, right??" Percy asked you. "I'm not, Seaweedbrain."

Percy shot a look at the octopus. "Shut up squidward! Only Y/n gets to call me that!"

And you giggled. "You're cute, Percy Jackson. And yes, I would like to be your girlfriend." You smile again.

His heart was racing faster than a black marlin can swim. "That–That's cool–yeah.. cool." He tried to play it off, but even the animals weren't buying it.

Then Percy's eyes randomly widened. "No, we're not gonna do that!" Percy shot back at Patrick. "What'd they say?" You ask him. "He said. that we should kiss."

You frown at that. "And you're not gonna listen to him? C'mon Perce, he's a star." You say to him.

The sea anmilas were probably encouraging him cause he looked around at them.

Then finally, he scooted closer to you. "Is this okay with you?" He asks you, tone soft. You nod. "Yeah."

And so his lips found yours in a soft, loving, sea-animal-proof kiss.

The animals cheered, but it honestly sounded like a ton of gibberish to you, especially the sound that came from the dolphin who's name you did not know.

It didn't matter though, cause Percy Jackson was kissing you.

When you pulled away, he smiled. "Was that okay?" You nod again. "More than okay."

This time, you both blushed.

"So..?"

"Yes Percy. They're invited to the wedding."

And the animals cheered again.

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babble28 · 1 day ago

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Illicit affairs (Spencer x curvy! Hotch reader) part 1

An: hey guys, this is my very first fic EVER so pls lmk if I missed anything or if something is wrong, or unclear. thanks for reading! let me know if you like it and I could do a part two :)

words: 1,889 (ish)

Warnings: insecure reader, mention of death of a parent, slight age gap (like 5 years), reader is Aron's daughter, mentions of dating issues/friend issues, reader is bad at math, reader is in college lmk if I missed any warnings thx

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"𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔰"

Special agent Aaron Hotchner, or as you would call him, Dad, was never one for taking things lightly. Which, in your mind, was both a blessing and a curse, as you seemed to get the brunt end of the stick when you were in danger or in trouble, being his only daughter and all. You know your father's love for you was boundless, but growing up with an FBI agent for a dad meant little to no spontaneity in your life.

You were not allowed to stay out late, even into your later teen years, and you were definitely not allowed to have boys around the house without your dad’s approval.

However, dating wasn't much in the cards for you. Growing up you had always been a little chubby. After going through puberty and not quite losing all your “baby fat” as your mother used to call it, you became increasingly more self-conscious into your teenage years. Feeling dejected as your skinnier friends soon began to get boyfriends and girlfriends, while you were left alone in your room watching your latest favorite show as you internally sulked over being by yourself.

It’s not as if you hadn't ever had boyfriends, or dated before, just that no one lasted long enough to mean anything. In your early teen years, there was Liam, he lasted approximately 74 days before your best friend at the time, Melanie, asked him out and he left you for her.

Although it hurt at the time, you were young and had long since brushed it off. Your senior year of high school brought you Aiden, who was kind and made you feel better about yourself, or so you thought. That didn’t last long, considering he cheated on you with his ex and when you found out, you forgave him before breaking up a few months later after one of your friends had let slip what he had done to you in front of your father. Your dad was never explicitly rude or harsh about boyfriends, but after Aiden, he became far more protective of you.

The protectiveness only grew after your mom's passing just after your 18th birthday. And ever since it's just been you, your dad, and your new half-brother, Jack.

Now, a sophomore in college, you are as lonely as ever. All your friends are either in school themselves, or moving out with their partners. You had never been very good with making friends so, despite your efforts, you had about two people you talked to in your classes, but nothing too close to friendships.

It was finally Saturday, which meant no school, and best of all one of your father’s only days off. He had promised to spend more time with you, feeling guilty that he was off working more than he was home. Plus, Jack spent most of his time with his mother Haley, so most of the time you were alone, and truthfully, you just missed your dad. After your mom's passing, it was you and your dad against the world as you liked to say.

You woke up early, to surprise your dad with pancakes in the morning. He worked so hard for you and supported you through so much, you truly enjoyed helping him out when you could.

When the pancakes were cooking your dad came down the stairs, still in his pajamas with his hair tousled slightly in the back.

You both had a great morning, talking about school, work, and other anecdotes throughout the week you two had experienced.

As you guys started cleaning dishes, you heard the most irritating sound of your father's phone going off, usually meaning duty calls.

Knowing now, you had wished that's what the call was about.

Your dad responded to the person on the other line curtly, almost… disappointed, “Thank you, Mr. Harris, I’ll be sure to get this all sorted out by the end of the weekend,” your dad hung up the phone and gave you a stern look.

“Well, your school counselor just called me, he said you’ve failed your last two math tests?”

He gave you a quizzical look as if he was asking about the validity of your counselor's statement.

“I’m sorry Dad” you began to tear up, math had always been a struggle for you, but last year you had a tutor, Mrs. Hansen, an old widowed school teacher who had lived just down the street from your house. However, over the summer she moved in with her daughter in California. So, your grades have been slipping. “Hey, it’s okay sweetie, I just want to make sure you are okay” he soothed, “Do you think we need to get you help again?” he asked, pulling you into a hug. “Y-yeah, I think that would be best” you cried into his shoulder. “Okay, let's talk about this later and have a fun day,” he said, giving you a reassuring squeeze and going to get dressed.

The following Monday you woke up and did your usual routine, getting ready for school was always hard. Seeing the new shirt you bought cling to your body in all the wrong places made you feel stressed. Looking at yourself in the mirror you pinch and pull at your clothes, seeing if they would change but, to no avail. Sighing, you changed into your go-to, big shirt, and sweats, trying to hide as much of yourself as possible.

As you walk into the kitchen you notice a Tupperware of last night's dinner left out, you quickly realize that your father had left his lunch at home. Deciding to take it with you, you wrote him a little note and put it in a bag with an apple and a cookie that you two had made together on his day off.

You had visited your dad's place of work quite often considering he basically lives there. However, in recent years you have tried to stay away from that place. While your dad had assumed it was due to the horrifying things they had to look at and deal with on cases, for you it was due to an entirely different and frankly scarier reason.

Dr. Spencer Reid was that reason.

He was around your age, a solid 27 to your 21, nearly 22. However, he was incredibly smart and, in the past few years, you had developed quite a crush on the unassuming doctor. You knew nothing would come of it, considering he was not only your father's colleague but also the fact that he was so incredibly smart and handsome and you were… well just you. He would never fall for someone who looked like you and who could barely remember the Pythagorean theorem. Let alone any of the crazy things he knew, that you probably couldn't even comprehend.

Taking a deep breath, you flash the guard your permanent visitor badge your dad had given you when you graduated high school for “emergencies only” he had said sternly. You walk in and head straight for the Bau department.

Entering the bau always caused a wave of nostalgia for you, as you had been coming here since before you could remember. Entering the bullpen, you were immediately greeted by Penelope (your fairy godmother, as she liked to call herself) who practically squealed when she noticed you entered. “y/n!! My sweet baby! Oh, have I missed you” She embraced you, her vanilla perfume causing a smile to spread on your face. Being around one of your favorite people was always a plus of coming here.

“Is that the beautiful y/n?” you heard Derek come out of the kitchenette with a fresh cup of coffee. “I missed you guys” You hug them both. “I just brought my dad's lunch, then I have class, so unfortunately I won't be here long, but I'll see you guys this weekend at Uncle David's dinner” you explain to the two. SSA David Rossi and your father had been close since before you were born, and due to your parents not being married when having you, your father decided that the best person to be there for you when he wasn’t was his friend. Ever since, you have called him uncle.

“Have you decided on a major yet?” Derek asks, he helped console you last summer when you weren’t quite sure what you wanted to major in, stating that he himself wasn’t sure what he wanted to do when he went into collage, and said that no matter how long it took,things would be alright.

“Criminal psychology” you smirked at him, knowing he’d be impressed with you following in your makeshift family's footsteps.

“That's my girl,” he chuckles.

“Is that my bella (y/n)?” Detective Rossi emerges from your father's office with a smile on his face. “Hi Uncle David, just dropping off Dad's lunch,” you say walking towards the door he had just emerged from.

After exchanging pleasantries with your godfather, and the promise of attending his dinner party that weekend, you finally entered your father's office. However, as you stepped in, you knew someone else was there, you first saw those beautiful brown curls, your breath caught in your throat, and you prepared for embarrassment. His hazel eyes lock on yours and you swear time stops. That is until your father promptly asked your reason for being at the office. “O-oh, uh, right sorry, you forgot your lunch at home I just came to bring it to you,” you said swiftly looking away from Spencer's piercing gaze. “H-hi Spencer” you stubble out, avoiding eye contact. “Hello (y/n)” he waves back.

“Alright, well I gotta get to class so, I’ll see you later” You wave to your dad goodbye. “Wait (y/n)!” your dad calls after you as your turn to leave his office. You hum and turn around, catching Spencer’s eye in the process. “Your teacher sent me the link to the study guide for your math test, I printed it out for you, so you can work on it with your tutor,” he said, ignorant to how embarrassing it was to be told that in front of THE Dr. Reid. he grabbed the packet from his desk drawer and set them onto his desk. Spencer, who had been sitting on the chair directly in front of said packet, had glanced over at it and said “Oh, I loved doing my sophomore math, did you know that the word math derives from the ancient Greek word Máthēma? Meaning something learned” Your dad looked at you, as though a cartoon light bulb had turned on over his head. “I have an idea,” he said. You stayed silent, curious as to what he was about to say.

“Spencer, how would you like to help tutor (y/n) with their coursework?”

Spencer's eyes widened slightly, he looked at you, then your dad, and nodded his head. “I suppose I could do that, Morgan says I need more interaction with people my age anyway, and frankly I think this could be a good learning experience for both of us, you know, studies show that interacting with people your age significantly increases-”

“Reid, that's enough.” your dad stops him.

Meanwhile, your cheeks were heating up as the thought of Spencer Reid in your house teaching you math flooded your brain.

You were truly and utterly fucked.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #spencer reid x curvy! reader #spencer reid fluff

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pinkaditty · 1 day ago

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snippet bc im so tired (perv!haku x reader)

ok i wanted 2 finish it 2day butttttt my body is screaming at me 2 go 2 bed. and i need 2 pack 4 a beach trip so. yea. i should go 2 bed.

anyways i hope i post it 2mrw or the day after but in the meantime please consume and enjoy this little snippet of the perv!haku fic im writing bc my mutual aya filled my dashboard with his recent perverted activities.

context is that u and haku were caught in the rain as he was walking u back 2 ur dorm. enjoy!

“I hope you don’t invite just any guy over when you’ve got your clothes lying around like that.” Haku jokes, scuffing his shoes against the wooden floor. A wry smile twists his face again, and his gaze flickers from you to where you hid the hamper. “Some of them might get the wrong idea, you know.” With the way his gaze fixates on you as he says that, you are almost inclined to believe that was a warning against him specifically. You suppress a shiver and blink at him curiously instead, smiling amusedly.

“Well, I know I can trust you!” You turn away, heading towards a closet to collect some towels for the two of you. “You’re my favorite ghoul.”

You grab two white towels and shuffle back to Haku, noticing he seems rather stiff and wide-eyed. He clicks his tongue as he regains his relaxed composure, smirking at you as though he were fine moments ago. “You say that to all the ghouls I bet.” He chuckles.

“No, just you.” You’re standing rather close to Haku, using your own towel to dry off your hair. You’re uncomfortably aware of how your uniform sticks to your body. It makes you shiver, holding the towel tight against your neck. When you look up again, Haku’s gaze snaps upwards to meet yours. You were sure he’d been looking at your chest just now, but maybe you’re overthinking it. “I know I’m technically not allowed favorites,” you start, a teasing smile growing on your face, “but you’ve been so kind. How could you not be my favorite?” You smile cheerily at him before stepping back and focusing on drying your hair, relieving yourself from some of the stagnant chill of the rapidly cooling water.

Instead of painstakingly attempting to dry your uniform blazer, you decide to try and peel it off. You’ve barely managed to shrug it off your shoulders before you turn back to Haku. He jumps slightly, his gaze flickering to your face, as though he’d been in a trance. “You should take off your wet blazer, too. You’ll still catch a cold if you keep wet clothes on.”

You turn away and struggle with your blazer a bit more, the sleeves and back insistently stuck to your skin thanks to the rain. Haku laughs behind you, and you hear approaching footsteps. “You know princess, I am always down to help you undress.” His voice lowers in tone by a few notes. You shiver as a warm hand settles on your shoulder. Even warmer breath curls around your ear and you fight the urge to shiver again. “All you have to do is ask.” You can almost feel his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, but choose to ignore it, letting him take hold of one of the sleeves of your blazer.

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yea its short i knowwwwwwwwww im disappointed in myself too. i promise im working on it. please feel free 2 motivate me orsomething. writing this has been cathartic i feel rejuvenated and sucked dry at the same time. ok goodnight

#minors dni #tkdb #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #tdb #tokyo debunker mc #tokyo debunker haku kusanagi #tokyo debunker haku #haku kusanagi x mc #haku kusanagi x reader #haku kusanagi

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favefandomimagines · 2 days ago

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I Know Places 4 (r.c)

Summary: Rafe’s mistakes might be finally catching up to him; Y/N tells Kie the truth

AN: things are beginning to happen!!!!

Previous part

Taglist: @luvrclub

It had been a week since Y/N and Rafe’s first date, and she felt like she was floating.

Every text from him sent her heart racing, every late-night call made her stomach flip. He had a way of making her feel important, like she was the only thing that mattered when he was talking to her. She’d never had that before—not really.

Growing up, she had always felt like the friend of the pretty girls. Kie and Sarah were the ones guys gravitated toward, the ones who turned heads without even trying. Y/N never felt invisible, not exactly, but she had never been the one to have someone’s full attention.

But now, she did.

And it was hers and hers alone.

Keeping it a secret, though? That was the hard part.

Rafe had been adamant about their second date being his idea. He wanted something lowkey, something personal, but wouldn’t tell her anything else.

“Just trust me, Pretty Girl.”

And she did.

The problem was Kie.

Kie knew Y/N better than anyone, and the past week, Y/N could feel her best friend watching her. She wasn’t outright suspicious—not yet—but Y/N could tell she was waiting for her to slip up.

And today, with the bait shop quiet and no one else around, Y/N decided it was time to tell her the truth.

The shop smelled like salt and baitfish, the usual scent of their summer days. The morning rush had ended, and now, with John B and JJ out doing scuba tours, Sarah handling inventory, and Pope and Cleo getting groceries, it was just Y/N and Kie.

Y/N leaned against the counter, her fingers tapping anxiously. Kie was organizing some fishing lines, humming to herself, completely unaware that Y/N was about to drop a bombshell on her.

Y/N took a deep breath. “Hey, Kie?”

Kie looked up immediately, raising an eyebrow. “Oh no, what happened?” she teased.

Y/N huffed a small laugh, but it died quickly. “I have to tell you something,” she said, her voice a little too serious. Kie’s teasing expression softened.

“And I’m telling you as my best friend first, not my brother’s girlfriend. And I need you to let me explain fully before you react.”

That got Kie’s attention. She set the fishing lines down and turned to face Y/N completely, concern flickering across her face.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I’m listening.”

Y/N inhaled deeply, bracing herself. “I’ve been talking to Rafe.”

Kie’s expression didn’t change, but Y/N saw the way her shoulders tensed.

“Since the night of the beach party,” Y/N continued. “We went on a date last week. And we’re going on another one soon.”

Silence.

Y/N forced herself to keep going. “I really like him, Kie. He’s different than he used to be. Something happened that made him finally grow up and start treating people like humans.”

Kie was still unreadable, which only made Y/N more nervous.

“He asked me about me,” Y/N said, her voice softer now. “My favorite books, my favorite memories with you, what I want to do with my life. No guy has ever cared enough to ask me that. And I think I really like him.”

The silence stretched, and Y/N’s stomach twisted uncomfortably.

Kie finally spoke, her voice even. “Are you done?”

Y/N nodded slowly, preparing for the absolute worst.

Kie exhaled through her nose, then tilted her head. “Was he nice to you?”

Y/N blinked. She had expected yelling, accusations—not this. “Yeah, he was really nice to me.”

Kie studied her. “And you’re positive you think he’s changed?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, her voice firm. “There’s something different about him. I told him about my dad, and he actually wanted to defend JJ. The Rafe we knew wouldn’t say that.”

Kie was quiet for a moment before stepping closer. She placed her hands on Y/N’s shoulders, looking her straight in the eye.

“I just want you to be happy, Y/N,” Kie said, her voice filled with sincerity. “You’re my best friend. And though I’m not thrilled about keeping this from JJ, you were my friend first. And I get why you haven’t told him.”

Y/N felt her throat tighten. “So… you’re not mad?”

Kie sighed. “I want to be, but no. I trust you. And if you trust Rafe, then I’ll try to trust him too.”

Relief washed over Y/N, and before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around Kie. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

Kie hugged her back, squeezing her tightly. “Just don’t let him hurt you, okay?”

Y/N pulled back, nodding. “I won’t.”

But deep on the Cut, someone was getting hurt

Rafe’s truck came to a screeching halt outside Barry’s place, the tires kicking up a cloud of dust as he yanked the keys from the ignition. He barely registered the familiar surroundings—the rusting cars, the half-collapsed fence, the dim glow of a single flickering porch light. His mind was only focused on one thing.

Finding them.

The second he slammed the truck door shut, Barry was already stepping onto the porch, lighting a cigarette like he wasn’t about to have the shit beaten out of him.

“Damn, man,” Barry drawled, exhaling a plume of smoke. “You look pissed. Gotta be careful with all that pent-up rage, Cameron. Might give yourself an aneurysm.”

Rafe didn’t say a word. He crossed the distance in three strides, grabbing Barry by the collar and shoving him up against the wooden porch post.

Barry let out a choked laugh, unfazed. “Oh, we’re doin’ this already? Usually, we at least have a drink first.”

Rafe’s knuckles connected with Barry’s jaw before the man could finish his sentence.

Barry grunted as his head snapped to the side, the cigarette dropping from his lips.

“Where the fuck are they?” Rafe growled, his voice low, dangerous.

Barry wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking despite the fresh bruise forming. “Man, you’re gonna have to be more specific. I know a lot of people.”

Rafe hit him again. This time, Barry stumbled, his back slamming against the porch railing.

“Don’t play with me,” Rafe snapped. “I know you were the middleman. I know you know who came into my house.”

Barry laughed, shaking his head as he leaned against the railing like they were just having a friendly chat. “You think I got control over those guys? Shit, Cameron. You don’t owe me money. I was just the guy making introductions. You’re the one who decided to play businessman and not pay back what you owed.”

Rafe’s fists clenched, his breathing heavy. He was losing control. He could feel it slipping, just like it always did.

“I swear to God, Barry, if you don’t start talking—”

“They know about her.”

The words cut through the rage like a knife.

Rafe stilled.

His grip loosened. “What did you just say?”

Barry wiped at his bleeding lip again, his smirk widening despite the fresh bruises. “The guys you owe? They know about Y/N.”

The air between them shifted instantly.

Rafe’s breath came short and fast, his chest tightening, panic seeping in through the cracks.

“No,” Rafe said quickly, shaking his head. “That’s not possible. No one—”

Barry let out a humorless chuckle, rubbing at his jaw. “Oh, come on, man. You really think you kept that little crush of yours a secret?”

Rafe’s stomach churned violently.

Barry smirked, tilting his head. “You forget how much you used to talk when you were high, Cameron? You wouldn’t shut the hell up about her. Some Pogue girl you couldn’t stop thinking about, couldn’t stop watching.”

Rafe’s entire body felt like it had been submerged in ice water.

Barry leaned in slightly, voice dropping into something more sinister. “Looks like they figured out your soft spot.”

That was it.

That was the moment Rafe snapped.

His fist connected with Barry’s face one last time, harder than before, sending the man sprawling onto the ground with a loud grunt.

Barry groaned, coughing as he rolled onto his side. “Fuck, man. You really gotta work on those anger issues.”

Rafe stepped back, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his bloodied fists trembling at his sides.

He needed to get out of there.

Without another word, Rafe turned, storming back to his truck and tearing out of Barry’s driveway in a spray of gravel.

His mind was spinning, spiraling, breaking.

They knew about Y/N.

They knew.

Rafe’s pulse pounded in his ears as he drove blindly through the Cut, the weight of the revelation pressing against his ribcage.

It didn’t make sense. There was zero chance anyone knew about Y/N. No one had seen them together, no one knew they were talking.

The only reason Barry even knew about his feelings for her was because of the past.

Because of the times Rafe had been too fucked up to keep his mouth shut.

Rafe had always had a thing for Y/N Maybank.

For years, he watched her from a distance, pretended to hate her, pretended she didn’t make his head spin in the worst way. She was the only Pogue he never really saw as one of them.

She was smart, sharp-tongued, unapologetically herself.

And the fact that she belonged to them? That she was best friends with the people he grew up hating? It only made her more untouchable.

But now, somehow, the people he owed knew.

And that meant she wasn’t untouchable anymore.

Rafe wasn’t sure how long he had been driving before he found himself in front of the Maybank house.

His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might crack a rib.

And then, he saw her.

Y/N was on the porch, her laughter ringing through the air as she helped Sarah carry in large boxes of inventory. Her hair was falling loosely over her shoulders, her sundress swaying slightly in the warm evening breeze.

She looked happy.

Untouched.

Pure.

Rafe tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his jaw clenching.

Then, he glanced down at his hands.

His bloody, shaking hands.

The stark contrast between the two—the warmth of Y/N, the darkness that had seeped into every inch of his own life—made his stomach turn.

He had already dragged her into this without meaning to.

But he’d be damned if he let her get hurt because of him.

Rafe exhaled sharply, his grip loosening on the wheel.

He had to keep her out of this.

He didn’t deserve her. He knew that.

But he’d burn the whole damn world down before he let someone take her from him.

#imagine #imagines #outer banks #jj maybank #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #kiara carrera #john b routledge #sarah cameron #rudy pankow #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe obx

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bestanimal · 3 days ago

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Round 3 - Reptilia - Rhynchocephalia

(Source)

One of the oldest orders with still living representatives, Rhynchocephalia is composed of one remaining species: the Tuatara (Sphenodon punctatus) of New Zealand.

Tuatara are greenish brown and grey, and measure up to 80 cm (31 in) from head to tail-tip and weigh up to 1.3 kg (2.9 lb). They have a spiny crest along their back, especially pronounced in males. They have two rows of teeth in the upper jaw overlapping one row on the lower jaw, a unique feature among living species. Their teeth are not replaced, and as they wear down, older Tuatara have to switch to softer prey such as earthworms, larvae, and slugs, and eventually have to chew their food between smooth jaw bones. They have no external ears, but are still able to hear. Their “main” eyes can focus independently and have good color vision. Tuatara also have a parietal eye on the top of their head, visible only in hatchlings as a translucent patch. After four to six months, it becomes covered with opaque scales and pigment. The parietal eye has its own lens, a parietal plug that resembles a cornea, retina with rod-like structures, and degenerated nerve connection to the brain. It may be useful in absorbing UV rays to produce vitamin D, as well as to determine light/dark cycles, and help with thermoregulation. Tuataras mainly eat invertebrates such as beetles, weta, worms, millipedes, and spiders, but will also prey on lizards, seabird eggs and chicks and, on occasion, smaller tuataras.

Tuataras are more tolerant of, and actually prefer, cooler weather than other non-avian reptiles. They don’t survive well over 25°C (77°F), and can live below 5°C (41°F), by sheltering in burrows and brumating during winter. Temperatures over 28°C (82.4°F) are generally fatal. Their lower body temperature makes for a slower metabolism, and slow growth, taking 10 to 20 years to reach sexual maturity. Females mate and lay eggs once every four years. During courtship, a male makes his skin darker, raises his crests, and parades toward the female. He slowly walks in circles around the female with stiffened legs. Males do not have a penis, and instead mate via a “cloacal kiss”, like many species of birds. Birds and Tuataras are the only reptiles known to reproduce like this. Female Tuataras lay eggs with soft, parchment-like shells. She will lay 9–10 eggs on average, back-fill the nest and guard it for several days before abandoning the eggs to their long incubation period, which takes 11 to 16 months. The sex of a hatchling depends on the temperature of the egg, with warmer eggs tending to produce male Tuatara, and cooler eggs producing females. During their first 2 vulnerable months the hatchlings are diurnal, hiding under logs and stones, to avoid being preyed on by hungry nocturnal adults. Within a year they learn to burrow and become nocturnal. The young Tuatara will continue to grow larger for the first 35 years of their lives. Their average lifespan is about 60 years, but they can live to be well over 100 years old, and possibly up to 200 years in human care,

Despite only having one surviving species, rhynchocephalians were once much more diverse and widespread. They evolved before squamates (lizards), with the oldest record of the group, Wirtembergia, dated to the Middle Triassic (around 238 to 240 million years ago). Rhynchocephalians had achieved global distribution by the Early Jurassic, and were for eons the world's dominant group of small reptiles. Many of the niches occupied by lizards today were held by rhynchocephalians during the Triassic and Jurassic. However, today’s Tuatara emerged in the Early Miocene, around 19 million years ago.

Propaganda under the cut:

The name Tuatara is derived from the Māori language and means "peaks on the back".

Tuatara are the largest reptiles in New Zealand.

Henry, a male Tuatara at Southland Museum, became a father (possibly for the first time) in January 2009, at age 111, with an 80 year-old female named Mildred.

Tuatara feature in a number of indigenous legends, and are held as ariki (God forms). Tuatara are considered the messengers of Whiro, the god of death and disaster, and Māori women are forbidden to eat them. Today, Tuatara are regarded as a taonga (special treasure) along with being viewed as the kaitiaki (guardian) of knowledge.

The eponymous Leo from the Adam Sandler movie Leo (2023) is supposedly a Tuatara. However, he looks more like an iguana and has the tongue of a chameleon. It is also illegal to keep Tuatara as pets, and there is no population in the Florida Everglades. The species may have been chosen to make sure the elderly “lizard” was a long-lived species.

One of the largest known rhynchocephalians was the herbivorous Priosphenodon avelasi. Priosphenodon lived in Middle Cretaceous Argentina and could reach over 1 metre (3.3 ft) in total length. It was the most abundant terrestrial vertebrate in the Candeleros Formation, and the only herbivore found there.

Tuataras are threatened by the egg-eating Polynesian Rat (Rattus exulans), which was introduced to the islands by the Māori. They were wiped out from the main New Zealand islands before European settlement, with populations persisting on 32 rat-free, off shore islands. Attempts to re-establish a breeding population on the New Zealand mainland have had some success. However, climate change may pose a new threat, as Tuatara have temperature-dependent sex determination. Higher egg temperatures lead to males, and as global temperatures rise, more males than females are hatching. Current solutions to this potential threat are to selectively remove adults and incubate female eggs in captivity to then be released.

Tuataras are currently considered “least concern” (ie not at risk of extinction), but their status as a relict species grants them protection and dedicated conservation efforts. Plus, their slow rate of growth and reproduction would make recovery very slow if there is any population collapse. If we lose the Tuatara, we also lose our last living link to an entire order of Triassic reptiles.

#i’m gonna try to make these descriptions shorter but when there’s just one species in the order I do feel like I have to go more in depth #about the species because it may be their only chance to get a spot in the final round #animal polls #Round 3 #Reptilia #Rhynchocephalia

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ellswritings · 3 days ago

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My Hero

CM Punk (Phil Brooks) x Reader

TW: Drinking, handsy dude who follows reader out of the bar, violence, foul language, Phil being extra protective, silly misunderstandings, mutual pining. I think that’s it.

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

✧･ﾟ:*ᴵ’ᵐ ᵇᵉᵃᵘ ᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)*:･ﾟ✧*

Part of Y/N wishes she had listened to Phil. Actually, all of Y/N wishes she had listened to him. Maybe if she had just been content with sitting at the hotel watching movies with him for the night, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

Demi and a couple of the other girls wanted to go out the night before their big show tomorrow. Phoenix Arizona wasn’t necessarily their favorite place to be, but it still had its perks. They all agreed not to get hammered or anything as they had to be up bright and early, but it was really the only time they had to themselves as they had only landed earlier that morning.

The bar itself was nice. It was only a five minute walk from the hotel, practically right down the street which made it convenient to walk to. The inside was well-furnished, feeling more like a speakeasy rather than a bar. It was a nice find. Not that any of them were surprised. The hotel the company got for them was on the higher end of the monetary spectrum as well.

Phil knew she had plans to go out with the girls later that night, but something in him just didn’t set right at the thought of her out so late. He’s always been rather protective of Y/N, having known her since she debuted at AEW in 2022 before getting poached by WWE the following year.

He’s seen her grow into the phenomenon she is today. They’ve only known each other for a few years, but she quickly became someone he relied on. Which speaks volumes as Phil has never been one to rely on anyone. But something is different about her. The way her smile easily lit up a room, or the way her laugh could brighten even the worst of days for anyone. It made him fiercely protective of her.

So the moment that uneasy feeling rose in his chest, he tried to suggest that she stay in with him. That they could hang out in his room and watch movies like they usually do when they’re in a city for more than two days. But since this trip was supposed to be short, she was adamant about going out before having to hop on another flight.

He understood, and he would never force her to do something she didn’t want to, but it didn’t ease that gnawing feeling in his gut. He tried again to get her to stay right before Demi came to get her, but all he got was a small scoff and a teasing remark about how just because he couldn’t stay up past midnight doesn’t mean she couldn’t.

Phil could feel himself becoming anxious at the thought of her being out. It frustrated him. He didn’t get anxious ever, especially over people. The only time he ever got even remotely close to anxious is when Larry ate the tab of his Pepsi can when it fell on the floor.

But he didn’t want to push the subject any further. She was a big girl. She could handle herself. That’s what he told himself. He’s seen her kick some serious ass in their time of being friends, so he knows what she’s capable of.

But even that didn’t soothe his mind.

So in order to preoccupy himself, he turned on some mind-numbing movie to fill the quiet space that is his hotel room as he patiently waits to get the text that she and the girls made it back to the hotel after their outing.

While the night started out lively and fun, funny stories, shots, and laughs being shared between friends, Y/N slowly started realizing how truly exhausted she was. Perhaps it is the fact she spends most of her time with Phil who is an old man at heart. The thought of him already laying in his bed in pajamas at ten-forty five makes her smile. Maybe it’s his fault she’s now having a hard time living it up. Not that she minds. Hence why now she’s secretly longing for the other girls to tire out so she can catch the tail end of whatever crap movie he managed to find on the hotel television.

Demi notices the small yet distant smile on her friend's face. She smirks, nudging her, “What’s got you all smitten?” She asks with a teasing edge, her accent sounding like velvet to anyone with ears.

Y/N snaps back into reality, suddenly hyper aware of all the eyes on her. “Nothing…” she tries to brush off, taking a sip of her Malibu and coke. “Just got lost in my head a little bit.”

“Well that’s a scary place to be,” Victoria quips without missing a beat making everyone chuckle.

Y/N lovingly rolls her eyes, crumpling up a napkin and tossing it at Victoria, “Har har, very funny.”

“Nah, we all know she probably zoned out thinking about how Punker’s sitting up in his room waiting for her to get back, huh?” Demi grins evilly, though she tries to cover it up with a look of innocence as Y/N glares at her harshly.

“Shut up,” she grumbles, pinching the woman’s bicep. Demi lets out a small gasp before playfully slapping Y/N back.

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” Gionna chimes in. “It’s kinda cute how he looks out for you. Not a lot of guys nowadays are like that with their girl friends.”

“That’s not true,” Y/N tried to counter, fighting off the blush that’s threatening to rise on her cheeks. She doesn’t know why talking about Phil is making her feel this squeamish, but it definitely did not go unnoticed by her friends. “Plenty of the guys we know at work are like that.”

“Oh please,” Demi scoffs out a laugh. “I’m willing to bet my kidney that Luis is conked out, drooling on his hotel pillow right now.” Everyone laughs at the image of the powerful ‘Damian Priest’ being sprawled out like a toddler. “While I know for a fact that Brooks isn’t sleeping until he knows your back safely.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she knows Demi’s right. She can practically see him staring off into space, his phone resting on his lap as he awaits her goodnight text. That’s how they’ve always been. Waiting up for each other before allowing themselves to get comfortable. She does the same for him.

“The old dogs got a soft spot for you,” she continues. “We’re not saying it’s a bad thing. Just saying that it’s different. You’ve got a unique dynamic. It’s nice to see.”

“We’re all just jealous,” Victoria laughs. “We all wish we had a guy friend like that.”

Friend.

That’s all Phil was right? Her friend. Her best friend. Someone who has sat with her through all the crazy things life threw at them. It’s all they’ve ever been. She’s always looked up to Phil, admired him, aspired to be as good as him in the ring and as good of a person as he is outside of it. He lives his life in a way that is so effortlessly him, and she is eternally grateful to have been blessed with the opportunity to be his friend.

However, like in every sappily tragic romantic comedy, best friends is not the term she would use to describe how she feels towards him.

It wasn’t obvious at first. There was a subtle attraction in their first meeting. How could there not be? He’s Phil Brooks. The CM Punk. She would’ve been crazy to deny how insanely good looking he is. But at first, that’s all it was. Just a good friend being able to admit that the man she has gotten close with is attractive. Unfortunately, that initial spark of interest grew with every passing day and burned down everything in its path until it became an untamable forest fire.

She hates herself for it. She didn’t want their relationship to turn into some sappy romance that made everyone either coo with jealousy or roll their eyes out of annoyance by how basic of a trope it was. So she swallowed every part of her that found him attractive. Hid whatever aspect of her subconscious that told her it would be a good idea to confess her feelings. And so far it’s worked. Things have remained perfect between them. Well, as perfect as they could be.

There still is that small part that wishes they could be more. But she knows that’s a line that can’t be crossed. Not when things are so great the way that they are.

“Yeah, I guess I did get pretty lucky in that department,” Y/N agrees with a fond smile, wrapping her lips around the straw in her drink.

Conversation easily flows back into other things; work, husbands, drama in the locker room. Y/N listens intently, chiming in when she feels like she has something of value to say. There was a long stretch of laughter when Y/N admitted to not having been in a romantic or sexual situation in over a year. They didn’t believe her until they saw her awkwardly sip her drink once more.

“Wait… are you for real?” Victoria raises her eyebrows. “You seriously havent even been on a date in over a year?”

“Yeah,” Y/N says sheepishly. “I just haven’t really had time,” she admits. “And I dunno… I guess I just haven’t found anyone interesting enough to spend time with. In either sense.”

“Really?” Gionna leans forward. “No one tickles your fancy even in the slightest?”

Y/N can’t help but laugh at her word choice. “Yes, really,” she confirms. “I just haven’t found a person that when I look at them I get those instant butterflies, y’know?”

That was almost convincing. Even she almost believed it. But that lie hasn’t worked for the past couple years, it’s probably not gonna work now.

“Well then we’ve gotta find you a man,” Victoria says, a new mission in her eyes. “ ‘Cause there’s no reason someone as gorgeous as you shouldn’t have men falling at her feet.”

“She doesn’t need a man,” Demi chuckles. “Not unless she wants one.” Her eyes meet Y/N’s with a certain tenderness, “Do you want one?”

Y/N thinks about it and truthfully, she wouldn’t mind having a significant other to come home to. Or to even travel with while being on the road. She’s had a hard time though the past few years finding anyone that excites her or intrigues in that manner. In fact, shortly after she met Phil, that’s when the struggles in her romantic life started. She really has no one to blame but herself. She let her attraction go unchecked and now it’s costing her in the long run.

“I wouldn’t mind finding someone,” Y/N says honestly. “Even if it’s just somethin’ casual for a little bit.”

“All right…” Demi smirks. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ve been hearing some whispers that Bron’s been talking about you a lot,” she revelas like it’s not that big of a deal.

Gionna gasps, “Oh, I heard that too!” She slaps the table excitedly. “Apparently he’s had his eye on you since he saw you in the Royal Rumble last year.”

Y/N’s face flushes red. She wasn’t expecting Bron Steiner out of all people to have had his attention on her. They’re around the same age, Y/N being only about two years older than him. Normally, she would never even consider entertaining Bron, since she’s typically into older men, but knowing nothing is ever going to happen witht he person she wants it to… maybe Bron wouldn’t be so bad.

“I could ask Dom to talk to one of their mutual friends if you want?” Gionna suggests. “Feel it out a bit.”

Y/N doesn’t understand why she forces a smile on her face. She should be thrilled, but she just can’t dig out that genuine emotion. “Yeah, that would be great.”

Once again, the conversation moves on. Y/N feels her battery depleting more and more as the others continue on drinking. She doesn’t understand how they’re not showing any signs of exhaustion. It’s like the later it gets, the more energy they feel. She rests her head in her hand, her blinks becoming slower and slower as things drag on. She finds herself zoning out, longing to be laying down next to her best friend, falling asleep while mumbling that she’s still watching his movie when they both know she’s not.

Her phone buzzes in her lap and she glances down, the exact name she wanted to see popping up.

“You doing okay?” Phil’s message wakes her up a little more, stirring something inside of her as she moves to reply. “You guys have been gone awhile.”

Y/N smiles but it quickly turns into a frown as she realizes how late it actually is.

2:45 am.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Why are you still up? It’s late.”

“Just waiting for my girl to tell me she got back to the hotel safely.”

Her eyes widen and her heart stutters. His girl? She shakes her head, taking a moment to blink rapidly before rereading the message. It’s still there. He didn’t mean it in the way she wishes she could take it. She knows that, constantly repeating it in her head. They’re just friends. She is his girl just like he’s her guy, because they’re close friends. They’ve got a special bond.

That still doesn't stop the way her mind suddenly starts pounding harder than her chest. She can feel her feet pulsing at a different rate and it becomes extremely overwhelming. She turns her phone off, closing her eyes briefly and sucking in a deep breath. The bar suddenly feels much more claustrophobic than she remembers, the dark lighting only helping to soothe the headache that’s building behind her eyes.

She shoves the small amount of her drink away from her, looking at the girls with apologetic eyes. She really didn’t want to be the one to tap out early, but she genuinely just wanted to be in her pajamas. “Guys, I think I’m gonna head back to the hotel. I’m starting to get a little woozy.”

“What?” Demi’s smile falls, concern replacing her joyous expression. “Woozy? What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

“No- no, I’m fine,” Y/N tries to wave her off. “Just like a tired woozy,” she explains, trying not to make it sound serious. “I just wanna go to bed.”

Victoria moves to grab her purse, “Well here, we’ll finish our drinks and walk back with you.”

“No,” Y/N stops her. “No, guys, you don’t have to do that. I’m being the loser leaving early. You guys are still having a good time. I don’t wanna ruin your guys’ night just because I’m ready to hit the sack.”

“You wouldn’t be ruining our night, Y/N,” Gionna assures her. “It’s extremely late. We don’t want you walking alone.”

“G, I’ll be fine,” Y/N insists, standing up as she gathers her stuff. “It’s literally a five minute walk. I’ll text you guys when I make it back.”

“Y/N…” Demi looks at her, unconvinced. “You’ve been drinking. We’re in a city none of us know. You can’t expect us to just let you walk alone.”

Y/N grabs her hand, squeezing it reassuringly, “I promise, I’ll be okay.” A playful smile covers her lips, “I kick people’s asses for a living, remember? I’m sure I can handle a scrawny crackhead that tries to come at me. And like I said, it’s a five minute walk. Nothing’s gonna happen in five minutes.”

“You don’t know that–”

“Dem, I’ll be okay,” Y/N cuts her off, a pleading tone in her voice. “Please. I don’t want you guys to leave on my account. I promise I’ll text you the entire time I’m walking.”

The other three still look more than apprehensive. Y/N impatiently taps her foot, waiting for them to give her permission to go. She just wanted to be considerate of their time. If they’re not tired, they shouldn’t have to leave. Y/N’s never wanted to be a burden on anyone, and she doesn’t want to start now.

They can see the desperation and exhaustion in Y/N’s expression. Victoria’s posture softens, “Can we at least get you an uber?”

Y/N exhales with a fond smile, making her rounds to kiss all of her friends' heads. “No, I’m good. That’ll just be a waste of money. It’s right around the corner. I’ll share my location with the group chat and text you guys the entire way, okay?”

They all sigh, but reluctantly nod their heads. Brief hugs are shared before Y/N takes her phone out, sending her location to their group chat. She sends them a small wave before making her way towards the door. As soon as she pushes it open, she’s hit with a very welcome gust of fresh air. The pounding in her head regresses as she sucks in a deep breath. The fresh air around her was much needed. Things started to get much too stuffy in the bar.

Part of her wanted to take off the tall heels that are making her feet extremely uncomfortable, but she knows better than to walk around barefoot on the street so she powered through. She tugs her jacket closer to her chest, folding her arms over it to keep it in place. She’s only walking for about a minute and a half when she suddenly feels a strong chill cover her entire frame.

And it wasn’t from the wind.

The sound of heavy breathing fills her ears and she’s sober enough to know it’s not her own. Every part of her body is now on high alert. She continues walking, turning her head inconspicuously to see if she can get an image of anything out of her peripherals. Her breath hitches when she notices a tall, rather burly individual walking about ten paces behind her. She furrows her eyebrows, trying to see through the darkness. That’s when she realizes who it is.

It’s the same man they saw from when they walked into the bar. He had tried to talk to them when they originally walked in, but Demi was quick to shut it down so Y/N didn’t think anything of it. In fact, they all thought he left after the interaction.

Apparently he didn’t.

Y/N didn’t want to assume the worst. He might just be headed in the same direction, or maybe even going to the same hotel. But there’s this gut feeling she has that says believing the best isn’t the right move. Her hands become clammy and her stomach twists into painful knots. That’s when she knows there’s something wrong. Her body is warning her before something bad happens.

She keeps her pace, not wanting to alert the man behind her that she’s aware of his presence. Her breathing quickens but she tries to keep it under control. She doesn’t want him to hear her panicking because that might just make him strike faster.

Tears begin to brim at the corner of her eyes, Y/N silently cursing at herself for drinking. She always gets more emotional when she drinks. If she had just stayed at the bar– no, if she had just stayed with Phil, she wouldn’t be here. She wishes she had just stayed with him.

Y/N knows she could probably take down the man following her. It wouldn’t be easy, considering how large he looks, but she could do it… if she was fully sober. She’s not in her right mind, so engaging in a fight wouldn’t get her anywhere. It might just get her into more trouble. So she does the only thing she can think of.

Phil furrows his eyebrows as his phone rings in his lap. He sees Y/N’s name pop up and he becomes even more confused. Is she back? If so why wouldn’t she just text him?

“Kid, you better have some magical fucking energy drink to suck down for tomorrow ‘cause I’m still getting your ass up early to train,” he says jokingly, hoping to hear a drunk giggle come from her mouth. He might not drink, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t find her adorable when she is.

“Phil…” she whimpers , her voice cracking as she says his name.

The playful smile on his face disappears, replaced by worry and concern. His chest tightens and his fists clench. He’s never heard her say his name like that. So broken, scared almost. It puts him on edge more than he already is.

“Y/N…” he says carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“Um– I– I don’t– I don’t know what to do,” she says in an urgent whisper. His heart breaks at the sound of her clearly holding back tears. “We were at the bar, and– and I just got really tired so I told them I wanted to leave. They wanted to come with me, but I told them no because they were still talking, so I convinced them to let me go alone, and then I started walking but then I felt like someone was following me so I tried to look and then I saw this guy…” she hiccups, trying to cover up a sob. “He tried to hit on us when we walked into the bar but Demi turned him down. But Phil… he’s behind me,” she says, terrified out of her mind. “I’ve been trying to act like I haven’t noticed him, but I think he’s catching on. He’s walking faster now.”

Phil sees red. He’s up and dressed within thirty seconds, grabbing his hotel key and rushing out the door. “Where the hell are you?” That’s the only question he has time to ask. He’s furious. She shouldn’t be walking back alone. But he doesn’t have time to be pissed at the fact she’s walking in the dark by herself, the only thing on his mind is making sure she makes it back to the hotel safely.

“I’m like two minutes away,” she tells him. He can feel his blood boiling as he hears her shuffling on the other side of the phone. Her breathing quickens and he can tell she’s moving faster now. “I just need to make it around the corner and I’ll be at the doors of the hotel. I can see it–”

“I’m on my way,” he says, voice stiff. Y/N can hear the ding of the elevator and suddenly his feet are pounding against the tile of the hotel lobby. “Don’t show fear. I’ll be right there.”

“Phil…” she whimpers again. “I’m so scared.”

He sighs, clenching his fists tightly. He needs her in his arms now. “I know, sweetheart. I’m comin’.”

All he knows is this is the absolute last time she goes out late without him there to protect her.

Out of nowhere he starts hearing her heels clicking against the pavement faster. She’s running. “Y/N?!” He shouts into the phone. “Hey, talk to me! What’s going on?”

“He’s coming!” She yells, her worried whisper now turned into a full fledged shriek. “Stay the hell away from me! No!”

Phil’s heart drops as he takes off at full speed, disregarding any vehicles coming into the parking lot. “Y/N?!” He screams.

Y/N rips her heels off her feet, knowing she’s not going to be able to out run the stranger like this. “Where you goin’ pretty girl?” The man’s voice slurs out as he starts sprinting after her much quicker. “I just wanna talk!”

“Stay the fuck away from me!” Y/N takes a risky move as she bends down to grab a large rock. She conceals it in her hand, stopping in her tracks. She can’t run. She won’t make it. So she has to do what she’s good at… Fight.

The man goes to say something else, but Y/N doesn’t even give him a chance. She chucks the rock at his face, nailing him perfectly on the forehead. There’s a loud thud when the stone connects, but due to his drunken state, it only seems to stun him for a moment. Suddenly his eyes transformed from that buzzed haze to something darker. Something much more predatory. Y/N’s heart rate spikes out of fear as he starts stalking forward again, much slower this time.

“You stupid bitch,” he growls lowly. “What’d you go and do that for? I said I just wanted to talk!” Suddenly hes lunging forward and his hand grips her wrist. Y/N reacted on instinct. She swung, her fist connecting solidly with his jaw. The impact sent a jolt up her arm, but he barely flinched.

Instead, he growled, his temper flaring. “Knock that shit off,” he spat, yanking her closer.

She struggled, twisting, her knee flying up to hit his groin, but he dodged at the last second. His hands roamed where they weren’t wanted, his grip bruising, and Y/N’s breath hitched—

Her phone hit the ground with a sharp clatter.

“Y/N?” Phil’s voice was still there, but now much more distant than she wishes it was. “Y/N, what’s happening?!”

“Maybe if your friend was a bit nicer to me at the bar, this wouldn’t be happening,” he whispers into Y/N’s ear as she continues to writhe against his hold. “I was just lookin’ for some company…” Y/N holds back a sob as he moves to smell the crook of her neck. “You weren’t my first choice, but I guess you’ll do.”

She grunted, wrestling against the man’s grip. “Get—off me—”

The sound of pounding footsteps sent a chill down her spine. But they weren’t coming from behind her.

They were coming toward her. Fast.

Before the drunk could react, Phil was there.

He didn’t hesitate. Phil’s fist crashed into the side of the guy’s face with a sickening crack, the force of it whipping his head sideways. The man barely had time to register the pain before Phil grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward and slamming his knee into his stomach. A strangled gasp left the guy as he doubled over, but Phil wasn’t done. He twisted, flipping the man onto the pavement with a heavy thud.

“You think you’re real tough?” Phil growled, towering over him. His voice was low, dangerous. “Putting your hands on someone who told you no?”

The guy groaned, trying to push himself up. Phil kicked his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling again. “Stay the fuck down.”

But the drunk wasn’t smart. He lunged, swinging wildly—

Phil caught his arm mid-swing, twisting it until the man howled. He drove his elbow into the guy’s face, snapping his head back against the pavement with a sharp crack. Blood trickled from his busted nose, his eyes dazed. Phil crouched down, gripping the front of his shirt and hauling him up just enough so their faces were inches apart.

“If I ever see you again,” he said, voice low and controlled, “I swear on my fucking life that they will not be able to identify your body when I’m done.”

The man whimpered, finally going limp. Phil shoved him back onto the ground and stood, breathing hard. He spun back around to see Y/N sitting on the floor, body shaking uncontrollably. Tears stain her cheeks as she stares at the scene in front of her. The strange man lies on the pavement, knocked out cold, blood being the only visible thing on his face. But that’s not what pulls her out of her daze. She sees Phil’s knuckles and it makes her eyes begin to water once more. They’re busted up and bruised. She knows he had to have done extensive damage to his hands with how hard he hit the man.

Phil bends down, grabbing Y/N’s phone for her before crouching down in front of the woman. He can still see a lingering fear in her eyes, and that nagging voice in his head makes him think that it might be him she’s scared of after that whole display, and the thought of that makes him sick to his stomach.

He watches as she opens her mouth to say something, but he stops her. He gently hooks his arms through hers, lifting her off the ground. “C’mon…” he says tenderly, holding her in his arms like an oversized teddy bear. “Let’s get you back.”

Y/N doesn’t know why, but her body reacts instinctively to his hold. Her legs wrap around his waist, arms securing themselves behind his neck. She buries her head into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in his comforting yet familiar sense as he carries her back towards the hotel.

She can practically hear the wheels spinning in his mind. He’s overthinking. She couldn’t blame him. Her mind was moving pretty quickly as well. All that transpired in the last fifteen minutes was traumatic for both of them. Y/N bites her lip, guilt flooding her system as she realizes that Phil heard everything. He heard the guy practically tackle her to the ground. He heard her screaming, fighting for her life.

Then she realizes she has more than that to feel guilty over. Her eyes squeeze shut in embarrassment as she remembers that she didn’t even thank him for coming to her rescue. She was just so stunned in that moment that she couldn’t even fathom saying anything. All she remembers was registering intermittent flashes of him beating the living crap out of the guy before it was suddenly over.

Then he turned to her, that soft gaze in his eyes. The one she’s noticed is reserved specially for her. But then it changed. He became self-conscious, unsure almost. It made her feel terrible for clinging onto him like this as he carries her into the lobby and over to the elevators. She couldn’t even tell him that it was okay. That she wasn’t mad at him for what he did. She just sat in silence like an idiot. And yet he was still chivalrous enough to be her human chauffeur.

Before she could even process where they were, Phil stops walking. She doesn’t want to lift her head up. She doesn’t want to unwrap her legs. All she wants is to stay like this. Him holding her. It not only settles her hammering heart, but it quenches that desire she’s always had for him. That need to be more than just his friend. The “kid” he has always been protective over.

Phil doesn’t make a move to set her down. Instead he rubs her back softly, his mind still full of anger. Anger at the girls for letting her go, anger at Y/N for thinking it was a good idea to walk alone, anger at that dumb asshole he left bleeding out for even looking in Y/N’s direction, but most of all… anger at himself. He should’ve gone with her. He should’ve called. He should’ve gotten there faster when he heard that panic in her voice. He should’ve gone to protect her first instead of beating the guy senseless right in front of her. Y/N didn’t deserve to see that.

She probably hates him for subjecting her to that.

Obviously they’ve seen each other in the ring. But Y/N has never seen him lose his cool like that. He just didn’t know how to stop it. His body was on autopilot and his only mission was to get Y/N out of that situation.

He then realized they’ve been standing outside her hotel room for almost five minutes in complete silence. He reluctantly clears his throat, whispering, “We’re here, kid.”

Y/N exhales, managing to curl up into a smaller ball than she already was. Phil feels an odd warmth spread through his body as she clutches to him tighter, “I know,” she mumbles back quietly.

Phil swallows the lump in his throat, “Well, you should probably–”

“Don’t let me go,” she asks, no, pleads with him. Her voice is so small as she somehow manages to cling to him even tighter. “Please…” her face flushes red with embarrassment. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

He stops for a moment, his mind fully registering what she’s saying. He hesitates before finally speaking, “Do you want me to stay?” He asks gently.

She finally manages to lift her head up. Her e/c eyes are completely glossed over, her cheeks puffy from how much she had cried. Phil can see the small wet spot on his shoulder from the silent tears she shed on the way here, but he doesn’t care. In fact, it made him feel better knowing she felt safe enough to cry on him.

“Would you?” She looks him in the eye for a brief second before she loses her courage, eyes flickering down to the floor. “You don’t have to stay for the whole night if you don’t want to. I just– I don’t think I can go to sleep by myself. Not after–”

“Hey,” Phil stops her, setting her down on the floor as tenderly as possible. Y/N looks heartbroken for a moment before he lifts her chin up with his finger, gazing into her eyes. His lips curl into that soothing smile that she loves. The one where the dimple in his right cheek pops out, making his soft side more apparent. “I’ll stay. You don’t gotta give me an out. I’m here, Y/N/N. For as long as you need me.”

Y/N’s chin feels like it’s on fire from the gentleness of his touch. She blinks slowly, not finding it inside of her to break eye contact. She nods, reaching in her pocket in order to grab her room key. She fumbles for a moment, but manages to get her hands on it. She reluctantly turns around to open the door, her hand shaking as she goes to press it against the electronic lock. There’s a small whir and click that indicates it’s opened. The silence between them isn’t awkward or uncomfortable, it’s familiar. It eases her anxiety to know that he’s behind her, protecting her.

She feels the buzz that was once infiltrating her system slowly dissipating. Getting almost attacked is a great way to sober up. She’ll be sure to keep that one in the back of her mind for later.

Her room is relatively large, a king sized mattress in the middle of the room. The walls are adorned with basic paintings that brighten the dull brown of the wall. There’s a desk in the corner, her script for the show the following day strewn across it, different colors of highlighter covering it. There’s random pieces of her clothing thrown haphazardly on the chair in the corner of the room, even a few pair of shoes are carelessly tossed near the bathroom door. It makes Phil smile at how they had only been there for less than a day and she already managed to make her hotel room look lived-in.

Y/N fidgets with her hands as she stands near the bathroom. Her eyes sporadically moving from him to everything else in the room. “Um… you can sit down if you want,” she gestures to the bed. “I’m just gonna go change.”

Phil nods silently and Y/N continues staring at him for another elongated moment before grabbing a pair of pajamas from her open suitcase and disappearing into the bathroom. As soon as the door shuts, Phil exhales, collapsing onto the bed. He leans forward, his elbows digging into his thighs as he rubs his face frustratedly. Things aren’t weird between them, but they are certainly not normal. He tries not to overthink it, she did just go through something terrible, so her behavior is justified, but part of him feels like maybe there’s something deeper going on.

Looking in the mirror, Y/N can already see a small bruise forming oner her wrist and on her hip from where the man had grabbed her. She stares at the forming marks, her heart beating faster as she relives the moment in her head. If Phil hadn’t shown up when he did… she doesn’t know what would have happened. A flash of the man bloodied and knocked out on the pavement crosses her mind and she feels guilty, but she smiles softly at the thought. Not because he’s hurt, but because Phil was the one who did it. Y/N feels nothing but relief and gratitude for the way her best friend came to her defense, and it’s about time that she thanked him properly for it.

She walks out of the bathroom, her hands crossed over her stomach to block the visibility of the bruise on her her hip. Phil hears her, his posture straightening, but he doesn’t look back. He doesn’t know if he can face her without losing his mind again. There’s too many emotions swirling in his head for him to thing straight. Y/N can see the tension in his shoulders and she exhales sadly. She grabs a wash cloth from the cabinet in her room, walking back to the bathroom to wet it before finishing her journey to Phil. She sits down directly next to him, reaching out to grab his hands without saying a word.

His brows furrow as he feels her soft skin touch his own. Her hands are perfect. Small yet decorated with little calluses to show how often she lifts and how much work she puts in to have the career she does. He watches her as she carefully cleans his knuckles. She treats him like he’s a piece of glass in danger of breaking. Her lips part slightly as she continues to work across his hands gently. The dried blood disappears with every wipe. He winces slightly, sucking in a sharp breath as she presses a tad bit too hard on a sore spot.

“Sorry,” Y/N immediately rushes out, pulling the towel away. “Are you okay? Well, obviously you’re not okay, that was a dumb question, sorry.”

“Y/N…” he gets her attention, trying to prevent her from getting nervous enough to ramble. He tilts his head in an attempt to try and get her to look at him. His attempt was successful, Y/N not being able to fight looking at him anymore. “I’m okay.” He nods reassuringly, placing his hand on hers. He looks apprehensive to do so, but Y/N soothes his mind by lacing their fingers together, her eyes still tracing over his wounds. “Are you?” He asks gently, letting himself relax into her touch.

“No,” she says honestly before gazing into his eyes once more, “but I’d be a lot worse off if it wasn’t for you.”

His face falls and his anger rises as he thinks about what could have happened to her. He goes to clench his fist, but the way her finger brushes softly against his hands prevents him from doing so. After a moment, his anger dissipates into disappointment. Dissapointemtn in himself specifically. He sighs, closing his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Y/N looks at him bewildered, “What?” She furrows her eyebrows in complete confusion, “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I made you watch me beat the crap out of some douche bag,” he laughs but there is no humor behind it. It’s bitter, almost self-deprecating. “Instead of going straight to you like I should have and getting you out of there, I decided to sit there and throw punches,” he shakes his head. “I thought I had better control over myself… You didn’t deserve to see that.”

“Phil,” Y/N stops him, rapidly shaking her head. “You saved me,” she forces him to look at her, using the hand that isn’t holding his to turn his head towards her. “You don’t have to say sorry. You–” she stutters, trying to find the right words. “I– God,” she lets out a humorless laugh. “If anyone needs to be sorry it’s me.” He looks at her with a bewildered expression. She can see he’s about to protest, so she makes sure to finish her thoughts before he can. “I shouldn’t have walked alone. I should have called you or someone else here to come get me. Hell, even an Uber would’ve worked, but I didn’t.” She shakes her head as she dwells on her own foolishness. “And then instead of thanking you for protecting my stupid ass, I stare at you like a deer in the headlights, makin’ you think you did something wrong by protecting me.” She bites the inside of her cheek trying to fight off her frustration. “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. Not the other way around.”

A small silence stretches between them. Y/N starts getting antsy once more, not knowing what to do with the silence. She rubs the pad of her finger over the veins on the back of his hand as a way to try and calm her rising anxieties. The only thing that brings her out of her thoughts is the small chuckle that rumbles through Phil’s chest. Her eyes snap back upward, a lost expression covering her face.

“You were pretty stupid for walking on your own,” he chastises with a playful smile.

Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing his chest with no real bite behind it. She tries to keep an angry face, but she can’t help letting a laugh of her own out. “Hey, only I can say I’m stupid, not you.”

It felt nice to have such a lighthearted interaction. Perhaps it was a bit premature considering the weight of what happened still looms over them, but it was a nice reprieve. Even if it was only for a moment.

Phil loves watching her laugh. The way the crowd feet near her eyes become more prominent, the way her teeth manage to sparkle like a cheesy toothpaste commercial. She’s such a light in the world. His hand tightens ever so slightly around hers, like he’s trying to find a physical way to keep her tethered to him.

“You scare the hell out of me sometimes, you know that?” He mutters, his tone holding a much deeper emotion. One she’s not used to.

She lets out a deep breath, a small pout on her face. She leans down, resting her head on his chest as she scoots closer to him. Phil allows her to snuggle up to him, enjoying the feeling of her being near him. “I don’t mean to…” she tries to keep her yawn at bay, but it eventually slips past her lips. “I don’t try to find trouble, trouble finds me,” she says with a small grin.

“Hey, I’m being serious,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind. It’s just a lot more gruff than gentle, not that she minds. She likes the small growl in his voice. He uses his other hand that’s not holding hers to rub up and down her arm. He watches as chills form on her skin as he rubs slow and steady strokes across the surface. ““You go running around on your own, get yourself into situations like that, and I’m supposed to just—what? Sit back and hope you’re okay?”

“You act like I’ve made it my mission in life to stress you out,” Y/N pokes his side, trying to lighten his mood. She doesn’t want him to be upset or worried anymore.

“At this point, I think you might have,” He quips back, his tone bordering on playful, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. He looks down at her, Y/N craning her neck up to meet his gaze, “Kid, I can’t—” He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders like he’s trying to shake off a feeling he doesn’t want to admit to. “I don’t like thinking about what could happen to you. I see red when you’re not okay. And I’d do anything—anything—to make sure you’re safe.”

The weight of his words lingers in the space between them. It’s raw, unpolished—just like him.

Y/N exhales slowly, letting her fingers tighten slightly around his. There’s nothing playful in the way she looks at him now, no quips or teasing remarks. Just understanding. Phil doesn’t pull away. If anything, he holds on tighter. And for a while, neither of them speak. There’s no need to.

After a while, exhaustion starts to creep in. Y/N’s body grows heavier, her blinks slower, her head tilting just slightly as she nuzzles herself deeper into him. Her nose grazes the side of his neck, making his breath hitch. There’s a certain completeness having her this close. He tries to swallow the feelings blooming in his chest, but watching the way her eyes droop, he can’t help but admire her relaxed features.

Phil notices her exhaustion immediately. His protective instincts of her are second nature by now. “Alright, that’s enough excitement for one night,” he mutters, his tone softer but still firm. “You need to get some sleep.”

Y/N hums in protest but doesn’t argue as he helps her up, guiding her towards the head of the bed with that careful, steady touch of his. His arm is coiled around her waist as he pulls the blanket back, gently helping her lay down. He tugs the comforter over her, smoothing it down like it’s just another thing he can control.

Then he steps away, moving toward the chair across the room. He doesn’t plan on leaving her alone for the next few months, even if that means sleeping in uncomfortable hotel chairs. He’ll wait until she falls asleep before he can let himself relax. But before he can sit, Y/N shifts, pushing herself up on her elbows.

“Wait,” she says quickly, her voice a little smaller than before.

Phil pauses, turning back. “What?”

“Can you…” Her fingers twist in the blanket, hesitation flickering in her eyes before she forces herself to just say it. “Can you lay with me?”

Phil stills. His lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that. “You sure?”

She nods. “Please.”

He exhales through his nose, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, alright,” he mutters, like it’s no big deal. Like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest.

He moves back to the bed, slipping beneath the covers on the other side. The second his body hits the mattress, Y/N shuffles over to him. He doesn’t stop her, wanting to feel her warmth just as much as she wants to feel his. Not that he’s going to admit it out loud. When she presses into his chest, everything in him settles. His arm drapes over her waist, pulling her in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Y/N exhales, relaxing against him, her fingers resting lightly against his chest.

A beat passes. Then another.

“You’re my hero, you know that?” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

Phil huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… someone’s gotta look out for you,” he mutters. But then he leans down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to her forehead. “I’ll always come to your rescue,” he says, quieter this time. “Whenever you need me.”

And as Y/N drifts off in his arms, safe and secure, Phil lets himself believe that, for once, everything is exactly as it should be.

#female reader #love story #world wrestling entertainment #wwe imagine #phil brooks #cm punk x fem reader #cm punk imagine #cm punk #rhea ripley #liv morgan #raquel rodriguez #wrestling

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zepskies · 19 hours ago

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Finally I'm here to give my full review on this amazing start to this time travel adventure to one of my favorite eras...featuring one of the biggest assholes in existence. (AKA: The Original Asshole) 😆😆

“Move, or I’ll move you.”

Oh what a start. 😂 Unstoppable force meets immovable object?

SB is such a grumbly asshole to start with (my favorite tbh). I'm so glad you started with Homelander already being wrapped up and tucked away where we don't have to see his deranged fucking face anymore. 👏🏽👏🏽

Soldier Boy was obnoxious, loud, rude, sexist, racist, lazy, arrogant, selfish, cruel, deceitful, complacent, vindictive, inconsiderate, paranoid, ruthless and unsympathetic. Honestly, you’d need a whole dictionary just to get through every single character trait you hated about that man.

God the accuracy. 😩🤌🏽

And lol not Hughie causing him to spill his iced coffee! Poor princess. 😝

I love that she's a Led Zeppelin fan too! I feel closer to her already lol. 💜

“Isn’t it time for your nap, gramps? You’re sundowning,” you retorted instead with a teasing smile.

*snorts* Oh yeah, I love her. Again, not him already being the biggest fucking asshole in existence, commenting on her "biological clock" and "feminist bullshit." 🙄 I see it's going to be a long road of slow burn for these two.

Also it's so interesting that she doesn't age too much -- not only does it make perfect sense considering her powers, it allows her to be a good (potential) match for Ben, since he also ages slowly.

All the tidbits about her background were so interesting and excellently woven in:

Led Zeppelin

Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged show

Her shitty parents

The Middle Ages and the Salem witch trials 😅

Her making money on Wall Street 🤣

This in particular was such a rich visual:

When you closed your eyes at night, you could still feel the scorching heat underneath your bare soles and smell the smoke reaching your nose and lungs.

I could smell the smoke myself. 🥲

Soldier Boy laughed loudly at your rejection. “I do like ‘em feisty,” he murmured with a sultry voice, invading your space even more as he shifted closer on the couch. Lion king on the prowl. “You know, you’d be less useless if you spread your legs every once in a while.”

God I hate him!! I hate him I hate him I hate him and his stupid sexy fucking face. 🫠🫠🫠 He really is the worst here, and it makes it that much more whiplash/surprising when she meets the Ben of 1942. You see a stark difference between "Soldier Boy" and "Ben."

But we're skipping ahead here. Going back to -

After your parents found out they couldn’t make money off of you, they kicked you to the curb.

Ah yes, this is such a good theme to explore from the show. Gen V really highlighted this too I think - this idea that parents literally made deals to have this done to their children is so evil and heartbreaking. It tracts that the products of this - all these kids grow up to have major psychological issues and trauma.

And then Vought tried to kill her for her powers! Honestly it tracts too. She has a potentially world-changing power, and anything that fucks with Vought's money is the biggest threat.

You wouldn’t kill anything or anyone, really.

Major respect to her for this - especially in this world!

“Well, currently, there are two working theories on time travel: The closed loop theory and the alternate timelines theory,” you’d explained after he had asked you how actual time travel worked. Most people gave up after a minute, but he had still been in it after five.

I have a heavy suspicion that we're in the "closed loop" theory for this story, and that's why SB is so interested in her powers and asking her all those questions, and then being so fucking obnoxious and mean about calling her broken and useless. I think he remembers her from 1942, and that's why he's so persistent with her in the present. 🤔 Again, I could be totally wrong, because why wouldn't he just ask her if she remembered him? But clearly she hasn't gone into the past to meet him yet...

GAH! All the questions.

Either way, after what you’d seen the Russians do to him, you could understand why someone like him might want to turn back time and get a redo. The unpleasant images, the inhumane torture he’d endured, actually caused you to have sympathy for the supe. For a second.

*snorts* yeah exactly.

Ooh the part where he gets nostalgic about her voice, I feel like that's an important tidbit too. 🤔 Now I feel like a detective, trying to figure out what delicious clues you've left for us throughout this ride.

“What the fuck happened in your life to turn you into such a miserable, toxic, overbearing, narcissistic, insufferable piece of shit?!”

Oof I have a feeling she's about to find out. 😅

“Fucking finally… Took her long enough,” he commented dryly and stretched out on the small two-seater, sighing blissfully.

Holy shit...now on my second read of this, I feel like he pushed her buttons on purpose. He remembered her from 1942, but knows her powers haven't been working, so he put the pressure on hard enough that it triggered her powers to finally work. 🤯 Especially with the line that "he's not finished with her yet"?!?!

If I'm on the right track with that (I know you can probably neither confirm nor deny lol), then he's fucking diabolical for that one. 😂😂 So much that it warrants the Butcher gif:

“Mon dieu, what if she changes the timeline, Butcher? I don’t want to wake up speaking German,” Frenchie threw in. “And I don’t want fucking slavery back,” MM added.

Oh my God, they're both so real for that. 😰

Admittedly, he was hardly recognizable, though. While he was just as tall as his 21st century counterpart, he wasn’t as broad. Instead of the signature green outfit, he wore a long, black wool coat over a three-piece suit and a checkered flat cap. His hair was maybe an inch shorter, his beard replaced by a clean-shaven face. And while Soldier Boy surely didn’t look a 104, he didn’t look as young as the guy in front of you either. No furious lines from decades of anger management issues decorated his freckle-dusted face yet.

Oh my God plsss - this description of 1940s Ben is already sending me/melting me into a puddle. 🫠🫠 Reminds me of 1940s Dean! 😂

To your surprise, however, there was no detection of malice or offense on his features. To the contrary, he seemed strangely taken aback by your aggressive response, his hands swiftly shooting back as if your very skin was made out of scorching coals. They raised in surrender. Surrender. Well, that was new.

LOL poor girl, she's so traumatized from SB and his sexual harassment. 😭 Of course I already know where we go from here, but rereading Part 1 makes me even more excited to dive deep into Chapter 5 this weekend! That 10K is calling to me. Can't wait to see what deliciousness is going to unravel there. 😏

But again, this is truly such an amazing start, Wayne! It's so rich with her background story, her going toe-to-toe with Ben, all the interjections from the boys crew and so much more. People have written 1940s fics with Ben before, but this is I think the first one that explores a time traveling supe meeting him in the past. It feels very fresh and original for the fandom. 💛

(I did read a Bucky Barnes x OC one-shot back in the day that explored this idea. It's here if you ever want to read it/if you're an MCU Bucky girl: Lost in (1940s) New York)

And when you told me this was going to be around 16-ish chapters, I already knew this was going to be a fun, angsty, drama-filled exploration that takes its time with these characters and their development (hopefully Ben's especially lmao). 💚

Time After Time – Chapter 1

Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, angst, Soldier Boy being an insufferable ass, reader is a supe with chronokinesis (time manipulation), post S3 alternate ending, enemies to lovers & slow burn, set partially in 1942

Word Count: 6.0k

Posted on Patreon March 1, 2025

A/N: Weeee, so excited to finally share the first part of this series with all of you! From mortal enemies to classic romance, crazy and angsty time travel theories, and a glimpse behind the green suit (in both ways), we're gonna have a lot of fun with this one 😉💕

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Chapter 1: Of All the Gin Joints...

“Move, or I’ll move you.”

Annoyed, you huffed a sigh and lifted your feet off the coffee table, shifting a few inches to the right, so Soldier Boy could pass by with a deep grumble. You rolled your eyes back slightly when he plopped down next to you on the worn, old couch in the office of the Flatiron Building.

“A ‘please’ wouldn’t hurt you every once in a while,” you muttered with a glare at the supe.

“Disagree,” he huffed.

When Butcher and his team tracked you down and recruited you almost a year ago, you surely hadn’t signed up to spend your days with a fossil from the past century. All they had wanted you to do was find the weapon that could destroy Homelander. That weapon turned out to be Soldier Boy.

And you had found him, freed the man from forty years of Russian torture without receiving so much as a ‘thank you,’ and helped the team take down Homelander, who was currently powerless and safely locked up in a CIA black site. Now, you were still here – as was Soldier Boy.

To your dismay, he wasn’t just the most powerful supe on the planet, especially after his own son’s steep fall from grace, but he was also the biggest motherfucking asshole that ever walked the earth.

This morning he’d been particularly belligerent as soon as he had set foot inside the office and Hughie bumped into him, causing Soldier Boy to spill his iced latte. To be fair, the guy had just been standing in the doorway like a moron for a full three minutes – he’d stared at you the whole time, probably thinking of new ways to torture you.

Today marked your 30th birthday of all things, so it was only natural your over six-feet playground tormentor would be present for the occasion.

“Led Zeppelin, huh?” he noted with an arched brow, eyeing your choice of outfit. You mostly wore band shirts from tours you’d been to from your time traveling adventures.

“Yeah, I got it for my twenty-fifth birthday. I went to Zeppelin’s first tour in 1969. Only wear it on special occasions,” you told him with a smile.

In some rare moments, it was actually possible to have a normal fucking conversation with him. You hoped it was one of those. Aside from his grumpiness in the morning, maybe he’d decided to give you a break on your birthday.

“Oh, yeah, right…” He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Happy fucking birthday, I guess.”

“That is so sweet of you, thank you,” you replied wryly.

He knew what you were doing. His smile rose – and then morphed into a provocative smirk. “So, thirty, huh? How’s that feminist bullshit working out for your biological clock, sweetheart?”

“Don’t kill him,” Annie reminded you of the office mantra with calm in her voice as she sat behind you at her desk, causing Soldier Boy to snort a laugh.

“Isn’t it time for your nap, gramps? You’re sundowning,” you retorted instead with a teasing smile.

You took his taunts lightheartedly. After all, you didn’t think you’d have to worry in that department – much like him. For some reason, you didn’t age… a lot. At least, it was slower than the average supe and human. You figured it might have to do with dropping in and out of wormholes. You had aged just fine as a kid but it progressively began to slow around your sixteenth birthday – the first time you’d traveled through time and jumped to Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged show in New York of December 1993.

You remembered your parents had been fighting behind the broken and yellowing partition slider of a trailer you had called your home. You’d lain on the pull-out bed with your headphones on and a Walkmen, trying to drown out their screaming. You listened to that record and wished you could be there – and then you were.

You’d found your ruby slippers.

To this day, you still got ID’ed at every bar, club, and liquor store alike. Soldier Boy had never been carded. He’d once claimed it was because he was famous, to which you’d almost spat out your drink and told him the wrinkles didn’t lie. Least to say, that little joke hadn’t flown well with the supe.

“You know, doll, if you ever need that tension to disappear from your shoulders, I’m right here.” Soldier Boy smirked cockily at you and spread his legs a little further apart. Not a day passed by when he didn’t hit on you either – or anything with tits, really. “Just say the word, and I fuck it right outta you. I do like ‘em older, you know, so I don’t give shit. But if you wanna get cracking on this baby thing, we better fuck on this couch right now.”

“Please don’t,” Hughie pleaded in a high-pitched sigh, glued in his spot next to Annie.

“No, thanks,” you scoffed and scrunched your nose in disgust. “You’re a fucking pig.”

“Hey, c’mon, I know you want to,” replied Soldier Boy without an ounce of self-reflection, his smirk only widening as his hand crawled up your thigh. “Bet you’ve been waiting for a big dick like mine, haven’t you?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” You slapped his fingers away, huffing in frustration.

Not even your kindergarten bully had been this fucking annoying – and that kid threw a dodge ball at your face and broke your nose.

Fortunately, while your own powers were on the fritz, you still had some superhuman strength. Sure, not as much as Soldier Boy, but if he shoved, you could at least push back enough for him to leave you alone.

For, like, five seconds.

Jumping up from your seat, you rounded the table to bring space between you and face him properly. It was always smarter when he was in your view at all times and you could watch his brazen hands with an eagle eye – the same hands that currently began to roll a blunt on the coffee table.

“Hey, if it weren’t for me, you’d still be frozen solid in a box in Russia,” you bit.

“Well, we’d like to think we would’ve found him eventually, love,” Butcher threw in from across the room, the sly grin on his face telling you he was enjoying the show.

“See?” Soldier Boy sneered complacently. “Fucking useless.”

“You’re fucking useless!” you yelled, anger surging through every inch of your body. “No one fucking likes you! You don’t have friends, you don’t have family, and everyone in this room fucking despises you – just like your old team!”

Slowly, he rose from his spot on the couch, nostrils flaring, his sheer height imposing as he towered over you like the Empire State. A part of you was glad there was still a piece of furniture between you – even though that wouldn’t stop him in the slightest.

“You take that fucking back,” he snarled, one hand balling into a fist by his side while the other pointed a warning finger at you.

However, you stood your ground, crossing your arms in front of your chest, a challenging look in your eyes but a subtle swallow in your throat. “No,” you said defiantly and bristled. “I’ll drop you into the fucking Jurassic era where you belong, fossil. Watch you become a T-Rex’s fucking chew toy.”

Soldier Boy’s grin boldly widened, green eyes shimmering daringly. “Do. It.”

“Oy, simmer down, kids,” Butcher assuaged but didn’t even bother to glance up from the newspaper in his hands. Instead, the Brit leaned back in his chair and threw his legs up on the desk, settling into a more comfortable position.

Soldier Boy threw him a dismissive look, annoyed at the interruption, before his attention turned back to you with a spiteful sneer. “You know, if I were you, I would’ve used those powers properly. I would’ve gone back and fucking killed baby Hitler or some shit.”

You scoffed a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, not surprising you would’ve killed a fucking baby,” you retorted dryly.

“See, this is why you’re a fucking failure,” he taunted and stepped closer, his face only inches away from yours now. You could feel his hot breath against your skin. “Those powers were clearly wasted on you, doll. Women are too fucking soft.”

You snorted, shaking your head. You didn’t even know why you still argued with that asshole. He’d never change. And you sure as hell couldn’t say shit like:

What d’you know? You’ve never seen a war zone from the inside, you fucking bigoted coward.

“I’m not soft,” you insisted instead, narrowing your eyes to a glare.

“Prove it.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate to go back in time and fucking kill you!”

At this point, you wouldn’t. You really wouldn’t fucking mind at all.

However, Soldier Boy only laughed in your face like you were the bug about to hit his shield. “Oh, you can certainly try, sweetheart. But you can’t, can ya? ‘Cause you’re fucking broken. Like I said, useless,” he reiterated harshly, his sneer widening when his hand reached out and clasped your chin between his fingers. “Don’t worry. I’ll find some good use for you. Especially for that mouth.”

Furiously, you thwarted his advances once more. “I said don’t fucking touch me!”

“Yo, Soldier Boy, c’mon! Leave her alone now,” MM warned, finally getting fed up too. He usually avoided the supe to the best of his abilities, only snapping every once in a while when the asshole took it too far.

This time, MM only got involved because Hughie kept sending him frantic looks of panic during your heated exchange, probably worried you’d antagonize the supe so much he’d detonate the whole building.

“Mind your own fucking business, punk,” Soldier Boy dismissed the intervention, his venomous eyes still fixed on you.

The anger was storming through your body and closing your throat with a tight chokehold. You could barely breathe as your chest heaved and your ears rang. It was always worse when you got angry. Unfortunately for you, Soldier Boy had a way of pushing your buttons and setting off your triggers.

Your superpowers had the ability to control and bend time – or at least they used to. You had mostly used it to stop the clock and get an extension on your homework deadlines. But technically, you could also travel through time.

Once you had found out how that worked, well, you quickly became addicted. You went to concerts of bands that didn’t tour anymore, you’d shamelessly make money on Wall Street and placed bets on football games, and sometimes, you even ate dessert twice.

It was all about the little things.

But that all stopped when you accidentally cast yourself into the Middle Ages and almost got burned at the stake for witchcraft. For some reason, your powers wouldn’t work until the last second – you figured extreme distress had been a factor.

When you closed your eyes at night, you could still feel the scorching heat underneath your bare soles and smell the smoke reaching your nose and lungs.

Afterward, you didn’t want to use your powers any longer – not that you could. PTSD was a real bitch sometimes.

You had lived quietly and alone in a cabin near Montréal for years. After your parents found out they couldn’t make money off of you, they kicked you to the curb. And when you knocked on Vought’s doors, asking for help, they told you not to use your abilities – before they tried to kill you. That was the moment you’d realized you might be more powerful than you’d initially surmised. Until then, you had only used your powers for your pleasure and the occasional personal gain.

So, maybe, Soldier Boy was right when he said you had never used your gift wisely.

After your flight from Vought, you lived under a fake name and took up online college classes in physics and history to understand your abilities better and avoid grave mistakes.

And boy, time travel was a fucking bitch.

Years of study could be summarized to this, however: If you even so much so as killed the wrong fly in 1783, the whole world could go extinct.

Or in Vought’s terms: If you accidentally fucked up history, it might fuck with their business and money.

That was the reason why they had been trying to get rid of you for the longest time – until Butcher showed up on your doorstep. You had no idea how the Brit could’ve found you or even known about your powers in the first place. After your escape, Vought had kept your existence quiet. They knew if the wrong people found you, it would end direly for them.

Wrong people like William Butcher.

At first, he wanted you to go back in time and, in his words, “kill the chubby, little cape cunt.” Needless to say, you had declined. Even if Homelander was the worst creature to ever walk this earth, excluding his sperm donor, you wouldn’t kill a baby. You wouldn’t kill anything or anyone, really.

If anything, you could be classified as a bit of hedonist – or “a fucking hippie,” as Soldier Boy once had put it. Which, granted, was probably a trait you both shared. Although, Soldier Boy took the whole fucking cake and ate it, too. At least all you ever did was steal a tiny slice every once in a while.

In the end, you had never asked for these powers. You were just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

But when Butcher then asked you if you could at least “hop back” to retrieve the weapon that had neutralized Soldier Boy in 1984, you finally told him you were essentially useless.

A part of you wanted to help, though. While you had closed yourself off from the rest of the world, you had still followed the news. You knew it had gotten bad out there. You could see Homelander spinning out of control and threatening to burn the world. You knew soon enough your house would burn, too.

You knew the monster needed to be stopped.

So, you offered Billy Butcher the only thing you could – a glimpse into the past, so he could find the weapon in the present.

And you did. You saw how Soldier Boy’s own team had despised him so much they handed him off to the Russians during an ambush in Nicaragua – but they hadn’t killed him.

The diabolical smirk on Butcher’s face had scared you. You knew he’d realized in that moment that you could be valuable after all. So, naturally, he threatened to give up your location to Vought if you didn’t join his team.

And well, here you were.

You’d traveled to Russia, you’d freed Soldier Boy, and you’d defeated Homelander. But even after the job was done, you stuck around.

Hughie, Annie, MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and even Butcher – they had all sort of become your friends. And they protected you, even though Vought had sworn they were done hunting you. No one trusted Stan Edgar, and you knew he would probably still rather have you buried six-feet-deep if he ever got the chance.

So it was nice to know the whole team stood behind you. Well, all but one.

Part of the deal with Edgar had been a request to keep Soldier Boy away from Vought’s business. The guy was smart enough to know he wanted nothing to do with the ticking time bomb, either.

“And what are we supposed to do with that wanker, huh?” Butcher had asked as all of you stood in a very breezy office at Vought Tower – which had still been under heavy construction after the fallout.

“Let him play hero, keep an eye on him, and I’m sure we’ll have no issues, Mr. Butcher.” Edgar had smiled cunningly, his eyes flickering to you.

Afterward, you had decided to pack up like Maeve and finally live your life. You’d even applied as a physics professor at a small college. But then Soldier Boy made his own request: Either you’d stay, or he’d walk. And if he had walked, your deal with Edgar would’ve fallen through.

Soldier Boy was a bully. In fact, he could teach master classes in it. You didn’t think there was one good bone in his body. So far, you could count the times the guy had actually been nice to you on one hand – two fingers to be exact.

The first time had been the very first night you’d spent together in that rundown motel after he’d killed Crimson Countess. You took over the nightshift of babysitting while Hughie and Butcher took a snooze in the adjoining room. That night, Soldier Boy had shown you a glimpse of a human being.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Well, lemme see…” Musingly, you had pursed your lips and thought for a moment. “Terminator came out in ‘83, right? You’ve seen it?”

His lips had slowly risen to a smile. “Yeah… Actually one of the last fucking movies I watched before the fucking Reds got me.”

“Right.” You’d nodded. “Still remember what happened?”

He’d scoffed and rolled his eyes a little. “I’m not that old…”

“Well, it’s been forty years since you’ve seen it…”

“Schwarzenegger comes from the future to kill that blonde chick,” he’d summarized with a cocky smirk that should’ve proven to you he wasn’t demented.

“Yeah, remember the soldier who came back to save her, too?”

“Oh. Yeah, that guy…” His nose had scrunched slightly. Of course he’d be rooting for the killing machine. “What about that fucking wimp?”

“The Terminator was supposed to kill Sarah because her yet-unborn son would defeat the robots in the future, but the soldier who came back to save her is actually the baby’s father.” There had been no way you could’ve explained it any simpler than that. “So, the Terminator actually created the circumstance, which made him go back in the first place. That’s a closed loop. Does that make sense?”

He’d nodded slowly, his brow creasing heavily in concentration. “Yeah, I think it fucking does…”

For hours, he’d asked you questions about your powers, and when he was through all of that, he even asked you about your life, what you did for work, and how you ended up here. And you’d figured he was trying to schmooze up to you to use you for his gain – or maybe he’d just been coming down from all the drugs he’d taken that day.

For a second.

When you’d tried bringing it up and be his friend, he had quickly shot you down. He’d been an even bigger dick since then, as if the sheer thought of someone seeing his weaknesses scared him.

Yes, a little, gray mouse like you apparently fucking terrified the biggest and strongest elephant in this world.

Honestly, you didn’t know why the supe had insisted on your presence. Maybe he just needed the perfect victim to antagonize as he passed the time. Sometimes, you did feel like the new Black Noir of Payback.

There’d only been one other incident where he’d shown something remotely resembling kindness:

He’d complimented you.

A real, sweet compliment – and he’d actually meant it – and he hadn’t hit on you in the same breath.

One night, a few weeks ago, Annie and Frenchie had dragged everyone of you to a karaoke bar to “decompress.” Even Soldier Boy tagged along and seemed in somewhat good spirits all night – there’d been no heinous taunting, only the usual flirtatious teasing.

One of those flirtatious attempts had been a dare for you to sing.

“Oh, c’mon! One song,” he’d begged and shifted closer to you on the small leather sofa in the corner of the bar. “How about something from the fucking 80s? Like Cyndi Lauper! I’m sure you’d like that, huh?”

“What, you want me to sing ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’? Really? You?” You’d arched a brow at him.

He’d chuckled, and it’d been a sweet sound instead of a mocking one. “Hey, look, I’m all about the girls having some fucking fun,” he’d said coolly before a lick of his lips turned him a bit more serious, mysterious even. “How about something a little slower… Time After Time!” He’d grinned proudly and raised his expensive whiskey glass to your cheap beer. “That’s fucking perfect for you!”

And then you actually went on stage and sung. You weren’t a bad singer, either, but you were by far no Mariah. However, you could see Soldier Boy watching you intently the whole time with that strange look he sometimes carried whenever he was staring at you – something he did quite often.

In fact, he’d stared at you pretty intensely when he’d first walked out of his cryo-chamber, too. It gave you the creeps the same way that naked homeless man had once done in a subway after 1 AM. And then, he had fucking detonated, which had freaked you out so much you’d accidentally disappeared back to New York with a five minute time difference forward – the only time you’d actually managed to travel into the future.

But after your performance, Soldier Boy had passed you on your way down from the stage and intercepted you by placing a tentative hand on your arm.

“You have a really beautiful voice,” he’d said and even gifted you a small but genuine smile.

“Thank you.”

Sweetly, you’d even mirrored his smile after no other insults or advances followed. You’d been practically baffled. As you had glanced at him more carefully, though, you’d noticed something gleaming in his eyes, almost melancholic. You’d supposed after 104 years, he had probably been experiencing a ton of déjà vu.

“You okay there, gramps?” you’d checked with a bit of a teasing smile, and maybe that’d been your mistake.

“‘M fucking fine,” he’d huffed. He’d suddenly turned cold again, the hard lines on his freckled face crestfallen. He’d spun around, marched out of the bar, and ditched you there on the spot.

So, that was what you had done for the past few months – babysit Soldier Boy and keep the bomb from exploding. Which brought you back to this exact moment:

“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Seriously!” you snapped, feeling the fury overtaking you. “What the fuck happened in your life to turn you into such a miserable, toxic, overbearing, narcissistic, insufferable piece of shit?!”

“Insufferable?” He scoffed as if your words didn’t affect him, but you could see it was starting to get to him. “You’re the one who’s fucking insufferable, doll. Probably because you haven’t been fucked in a while by a real man.”

Exasperatedly, you gripped your temples. “Oh, it all trickles down to that, doesn’t it?” you deadpanned. “You sound like a fucking broken record, gramps!”

“Oh, you wanna fucking jump on me badly right now, don’t you?” he gritted through his pearly-white teeth, a challenging smirk playing on his plush lips as he leaned closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Please, it’s not gonna fucking make me like you more. Your dick’s not a magic eraser,” you bit sharply, your voice low and poisonous. “God knows you fucked your last girlfriend for years, and she still fucking hated you.”

Growling, he bristled, his jaw ticking. Mentioning Crimson Countess always hit a nerve. You knew as much.

“You’re just a drug-addicted loser with daddy issues. Nothing more, nothing less,” you nonetheless continued bitterly. “No one likes you! And believe me, asshole, I fucking hate you!”

As you looked up at him, you could tell he was close to exploding. Kimiko even desperately tugged on your arm to drag you out of the blast zone – not that it would’ve mattered.

“Butcher…”

Hughie’s panicked voice and wide eyes reached the Brit, who finally got out of his chair and slammed the paper on the desk.

“Oy, you two! Fucking stop it!”

And somehow, that had miraculously seemed to work. Soldier Boy managed to snap out of his temper tantrum, his breathing steadying, his smirk reappearing.

His lips twitched as he dipped his head and whispered into your ear, “You’re not fucking worth it.”

His thick fingers trailed up your hips before he grabbed your waist and pushed you closer to his body. You tried to shove him away, but this time he used his full strength on you to keep you caged.

“Get off of me!”

“Butcher!”

“Oy! What did I fucking tell you lot?!”

Kimiko tried to pull you away harder, but that only made Soldier Boy chuckle more.

“I said stop it! Get the fuck off of me!” you yelled louder, and he finally let go with a cunning laugh.

“Alright, you’ve had your bloody fun, mate. Why don’t you take a bit of a time-out now, huh?” It was the most Butcher could do as far as an intervention went. Everyone in the room knew Soldier Boy couldn’t be stopped.

“Fine,” the supe relented with a roll of his green eyes, but then his gaze landed back on you.

You hated to admit that he had gotten to you, but it was hard to deny when your whole body was trembling and tears stung your eyes.

“Fucking Christ on a cross, are you actually gonna fucking cry now?” Soldier Boy snorted condescendingly.

“Fuck you. Leave me alone,” you snapped with what little strength you had left and wiped the burning tears out of your eyes.

“Exactly why I said you’re fucking useless. This is the problem with women. Can’t even take a goddamn joke,” he ranted. The more he got to you, the more pleasure he took out of it. You could see it by the vicious twinkle in his eyes. “You keep talking how everyone hates me, but what about you, huh? You’ve got fucking no one, too. Your own fucking parents didn’t want you, and I don’t see an army of men lining up to take care of you, either.”

“Shut up!”

“Wanna know why? ‘Cause you’re a broken, useless, stupid, weak–“

“Stop it!”

But he didn’t. You couldn’t even hear the words properly anymore as they strung together into one explosion of abuse. Your vision blurred, and the ringing in your ears only got stronger.

“C’mon, fucking show me what you can do! Prove to me you’re not fucking useless! Do it!”

“I said fucking stop it!” you screamed loudly till he fell silent.

And then, poof. You were gone.

Soldier Boy blinked at the suddenly empty space before him. Knitting his brow, he shrugged your disappearance off only a second later and plopped down on the couch with an exhaustive groan.

“Fucking finally… Took her long enough,” he commented dryly and stretched out on the small two-seater, sighing blissfully.

“This isn’t fucking funny,” Hughie threw in, the anxious expression on his face only causing Soldier Boy to roll his eyes once more.

“Relax, squirt, she’ll be back,” the supe quipped, snickering. “Probably.”

“Y/N’s got PTSD, okay? She can’t control it,” Hughie argued, placing his hands on his hips in upset, his gaze scolding. “You know, you’d think you of all people would be a little more sympathetic to that.”

Soldier Boy’s eyes glowered darkly. “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t have that shit. I told you.”

“You know, kid’s right,” Butcher chimed in, catching the ancient supe’s attention. “I’d be a little more worried if I were you.”

“Why? Not my fucking problem. And like I said, she’ll be fine,” he reiterated with a careless grumble.

“I’m sure you’re right, mate,” Butcher replied with a conniving smirk and a casualness that made the supe wary. “Let’s just hope our little Y/N doesn’t take your advice to heart about the proper use of her abilities. But if I were bloody you, I’d hope old-me watches me back.”

Soldier Boy snorted a laugh of amusement. “Oh, I’d like to see her try,” he replied arrogantly and stretched his spine with a yawn. “Well, anyways, I’m taking my fucking nap now. Just wake me when she gets back. I’m not fucking finished with her yet…”

Hughie and the others hurried around Butcher’s desk, their voices only whispers as not to disturb the grumpy supe, and the Brit knew by the worried looks on his team’s faces that he’d have to deal with this bloody problem now.

“Butcher, what are we gonna do?” Hughie asked, eyes still wide and kind heart surely beating a marathon on his sleeve.

“Yeah, how are we gonna get her back?” Annie agreed, calmer than her boyfriend, questioningly folding her arms and arching a brow.

“Mon dieu, what if she changes the timeline, Butcher? I don’t want to wake up speaking German,” Frenchie threw in.

“And I don’t want fucking slavery back,” MM added.

“Oy, calm down,” Butcher spoke with placating hands. “Y/N’s a smart girl. She knows more about this shite than anyone of you. I’m sure she’ll fucking figure it out.”

“What if she doesn’t, Butcher?” Annie pressed.

“Well, then, let’s hope worst she does is kill the snoring cunt over there.” Butcher smirked devilishly and gestured to Soldier Boy fast asleep on the couch as if he were hoping for that outcome. “God knows I’d be bloody fine with it.”

It took less than a second, a blink of an eye, but you felt it immediately, knew instantly what had happened as gravity itself stretched out its tentacles and wound them around your limbs, tearing and tugging until you ripped at the seams and atoms spilled out of you.

There was a stark drop in temperature – that was the first thing you’d noticed. Goosebumps formed within a beat on the bare skin of your arms, the biting cold making you not only shiver but fear for your life.

Please don’t be the Pleistocene... Death by saber-tooth? No, thank you.

But to your relief, you heard a strange, but familiar set of sounds around you – animated chatter, chiming bells and closing doors, and the occasional low rumble of a car. Your heart was pounding a furious and relentless rhythm in your ribcage as your eyes fluttered open and warily scanned your strange surroundings.

You’d landed on a street, your feet safely planted on a sidewalk. Glistening white snow covered the pavement in a thick veil, the sky a dull gray blanket above. Icicles hung from lampposts with patriotic banners flying in the chill, proclaiming messages to buy war bonds and save scrap metal.

Huh…

Powdered flakes swirled around you as a streetcar clattered past you on a cobbled street, the sound muffled by the snow. Storefronts and shops lined both sides of the road, shoppers bustling by you in coats, hats, and scarves. Your brow furrowed softly at the row of parked, snow-covered cars that looked a tad… old.

Oh no…

You had definitely traveled back a smidge, but luckily not as far as the Middle Ages again. Judging by the moderately busy street, you assumed you were at least still in New York City. A paperboy was shouting loudly further down, but you couldn’t understand him from the distance. The only word that was plastered everywhere was war.

World War I or World War II, maybe?

Wherever – or whenever – you were, you couldn’t get stuck here. Your short-lived fascination with your new environment was then quickly replaced by a rising panic in your throat.

You had to get home somehow.

Squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as you could, you tried to wish yourself back – unfortunately, you didn’t possess your pair of ruby slippers anymore that you could simply click. The more you tried and failed, the more anxious you became, and you knew a full-on panic attack was just waiting for you around the corner.

“Whoa! Hey, careful…”

With your hands on your knees, you bumped backwards into a man, your lungs constricting so much they barely let any air pass. You spun around, eyes wide and body trembling as a set of hands landed gently on your shoulders and waist for support.

“Miss? Are you alright?”

What little breath you had got caught in your throat as you stared into an all-too familiar set of outlandishly green eyes.

Soldier Boy.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

It was a reflex at this point to slap his hands away and keep them as far from your body as possible. Of course the guy couldn’t leave you alone in any era.

Maybe your reaction was ill-advised, considering the power he wielded. You figured any past version of the supe was even more ruthless than the current one you’d gotten to know. Moreover, you didn’t have the advantage of being spared because you had saved him from an ice box.

Surrender.

Well, that was new. He had never, ever, ever done that before. Did you land in some alternate timeline where Soldier Boy was a nice guy?

“I-I’m so sorry, miss. Please forgive me… I was just checking if you were okay,” he stammered and forced a reassuring smile, his hands still held high in good faith.

“Just stay away from me. Leave me alone, okay?”

You backed farther away from him, your eyes desperately flickering around for an exit. Your voice jittered in sync with your body before you bolted down the street and sought shelter in a dark and quiet alley.

“Miss! Wait!” he called after you, his hands picking something up in the snow that you’d dropped during your flight. “You’ve lost your–”

His brow furrowed as he twisted the thin, rectangular device in his hand, his thumb wiping bits of melting snowflakes off the sleek, black glass. As he glanced more closely at it, it lit up brightly and vibrated in his hold. He startled at the unexpected tremble, almost dropping it into a pool of mud by his shoes. Fuddled, his gaze lifted down the busy street in search of you.

“What the hell…”

▶️ Chapter 2: Is This the 40s? – APRIL 4

I think his curiosity is piqued lol... What did you think of his 1942 version vs. the, uhm, less nice future dickbag? 👀

Coming Up:

Ready to fend him off, you were surprised to find his grip wasn’t strong by any means. It was barely a brush before he dropped his hand again and looked at you remorsefully.

“I’m sorry! I just-… Please let me help you,” he reiterated with imploring green eyes. “Look, you clearly seem lost. Just tell me where you live, and I can get you home safely, okay? C’mon, you can’t do this to me.” He tried to loosen you up with a charming smile and a puppy dog look. “If you leave like this, I’m going to be up all night, worrying you’ve died of hypothermia out here.”

And my God, he seemed sincere! No wonder he had gotten attention from women like a goddamn bunny in a petting zoo.

Musingly, you then chewed on your lower lip and assessed the man in front of you. The people who strolled by you threw you the occasional weird looks – you’d chosen a bad day to wear a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and ripped jeans.

Admittedly, you could use a little help here. Maybe if you were being careful with the timeline – and him – you could risk it.

🚀 Read up to 4 chapters ahead on Patreon now

Tag List Pt 1.:

@alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

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@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@impala67rollingthroughtown @star-yawnznn @spnaquakindgdom @thej2report @americanvenom13

@lamentationsofalonelypotato @supernotnatural2005 @stoneyggirl2 @little-diable @kr804573

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