#his works feel like genuine photos from the past

[gilverrwrites]

I love imaging Dick, Tim, and Damian sneaking around trying to meet Jasons new gf because they just wanna be involved in his life and they know if they they leave it to Jay they wont meet her u til they're married with kids 😭

AND ‘omg us meeting Jason’s siblings when’

AN: Ngl I love this idea too, its so shitty of them but they have the best of intentions.

Damian

A boy no older than 14 with eyes that pierce the soul was not what you'd expected to find on Jason's couch the very first time he'd left you alone there. Jason had to dip out unexpectedly early, and had promised you run of the place until he got back so you'd slept in as long as you could and were on your way to make breakfast when you're greeted by the hell-child.

Once your initial fright wears off you realise you recognize him from a photo Jay had showed you which makes you feel slightly more at ease.

“Good morning? Damian right?” You offer as you pass him, be-lining for the coffee machine, you're gonna need caffeine if you're meeting any member of Jay's family for the first time. “Can I get you anything?”

“Alfred says it's unbecoming to sleep past 9.” Besides the initial glare he'd graced you with as you emerged from the bedroom, he doesn't even look up at you, his eyes glued to the pages of a book. Like brother like brother, you guess.

“Oh, well. Good thing Alfreds not here then.” You add a small laugh, trying to inject some humour to the situation. Damian does not respond in kind. “Is that a no? I think there's some chocolate cereal around here somewhere.”

“What do you do for work that allows you to be in my brother's home in the middle of the day?”

Jeez this kid is no-nonsense. “Or I could make pancakes, I make really good pancakes.”

“And tell me what exactly are your intentions with my baby brother?” Baby?

“I think there's some chocolate chips around here somewhere. Jason says you like chocolate. Chocolate pancakes?”

“Do you always avoid questions?”

“Are you always so intense?”

He slams the book closed and you nearly jump on the spot. He finally looks at you, really looks at you and as you stare back his features begin to soften slightly.

“I’ll have a coffee.”

You're certain from the sly look on his face that he's probably not allowed coffee. He certainly doesn't need any. But screw it, he's not your kid and if it gets him to like a little, you'll take the risk.

So you pour two coffees and join him on the couch. His questions do not cease until Jason returns about an hour later. He couldn't care less about the coffee, but he does care about Damian breaking in to interrogate his partner and immediately kicks Damian out.

Dick

Dick finds out about your existence from one of Damian’s letters, and he's subtle but pushy about meeting you. Not that you're aware. He keeps ‘dropping by’ Jason's apartment ‘just to see his lil brother’, no other reason but is told to get lost or downright ignored anytime you're there, until he decides to cut out the middle man and turn up at your home instead.

“Let me tell you, you are a hard person to get a hold of.” He informs as he invites himself through your front door.

“Um, hello Dick?” As you stare at his lush hair and sculpted abs you wonder what Alfred feeds these boys.

“Yep! I can't stay so I’ve gotta make this quick.” he gestures for you to come closer, speaking in a playful, conspiratorial whisper. “Jay doesn't know I'm here.”

That would be why he can't stay, Jason is due at your door any minute now.

“But you two seem to be getting pretty serious and I think it's important that we all get to know each other. You following?”

You nod, and he gives you the perkiest, most genuine smile. That or he has that exact look practised to a T. From what Jay tells you, either is possible.

“So, Barbara and I, that's my wife” You nod once more, you're aware of Barbara also. “have booked a table at Casa Gotica for Thursday night. We need you to get Jason there without letting on that it's a double date.”

“I don’t know.” you finally give your nodding head a break. “Jay and I don’t lie to each other.”

“Right. I can't begrudge that. Very glad to hear he's picked an honest one.” He takes a moment to straighten his thoughts, but his moment is cut short but the echo of Jason’s combat boots approaching your door. Dick’s eyes rapidly scan the room for a secondary exit before he settles on an open window. “Don't think of it as lying, think of it as omitting the truth. Whatever you have to do just be there for 6.30. Oh, and it's great to meet you!”

“You too.”

“Thursday, 6.30!”

Before you can agree he’s gone, presumably scaling the side of your building as Jay steps inside.

Tim

Tim was actually the first to be aware of you and your relationship with his brother, however, the very real possibility of being gutted by Jason for snooping in his personal life was too high for him to make a move.

But you seeking him out is a different story; or rather, you being the first to say hi when you bump into each other in line at the grocery store is different. It would be rude not to respond to your attempts at initiating a conversation.

“Hello, hi, are you Tim? You don't know me but I’m Jasons partner. Its so great to meet you.”

“I know who you are.” He states rather ominously, eyes darting around behind you. “Is he here?”

“No, but he's picking me up after.” His shoulders visibly ease.

“Cool cool cool.” He’s suddenly much more personable. “So, I hear you're into…”

That chatting doesn't dry or lul at all as the queue dwindles and both buy your groceries. He waits with you until you get confirmation from Jay that he's on his way. He's easily the chillest sibling you've met thus far.

When Jason arrives he gets out of the car to open the boot and passenger door for you as always, but not before he thrusts his phone in your face. “Where is he?”

Displayed on the screen is a selfie of Tim with you in the background, you absolutely do not remember it being taken.

[rafecameronssl4t]

73 Questions with Vogue || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: just you participating in 73 Questions with Vogue and it goes viral!!!

Warnings: fluff!!!

Word count: 1,935

A/n: It's been so long since I've written a Drew fic!!!!!!! Also I got inspired by my previous acc's fic so if it seems familiar to some of you who followed me from there, don't come at me, I loved the idea too much lol. CAN SOMEONE PLS SEND ME REQUESTS FOR DREW FICS???

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

"Hello!" You greet the interviewer with a bright smile, swinging open the door to reveal him and his camera. "Hi, Y/n! Mind if we come in and ask you 73 questions?" he asks, his tone friendly and warm. "Yeah, of course! Come on in," you say, stepping aside and holding the door wide open, gesturing for them to enter as the camera pans through the foyer of your house. The space is beautifully designed, with soft lighting that gives it a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

"Wow, what a gorgeous house you have," the interviewer remarks, his voice filled with genuine awe as his eyes take in the sophisticated yet comfortable décor. "Thank you!" you respond, the compliment warming you as you flash a radiant smile. "Is this your favourite house?" The interviewer asks, already settling into the rhythm of the questions as you lead them down the hallway and into the open-plan living area.

"Yes, it definitely is. It's in my home city, and Charleston means so much to me, just like this house does," you say, your eyes lighting up as you gesture around. The view of the beach through the large windows makes the space feel even more special. "I love the view," the interviewer comments, looking out at the sunset that bathes the room in warm golden light. "The sunset looks amazing from here."

"It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?" you say with a soft chuckle. "I love spending time in this room specifically. It feels like a little sanctuary." You both share a laugh, enjoying the peaceful moment. "What's your morning routine like?" The interviewer asks as the camera follows you through the coastal-themed living room toward the kitchen. You pause for a moment, thinking about your answer.

"I haven't had much of a routine the past few months because of work, but currently, I wake up to a strong cup of coffee and a walk through downtown," you share with a soft smile. "It’s become a little ritual to clear my mind before everything gets too busy." As you stroll through the warm, inviting spaces of your home, the camera captures the personal touches that reflect your personality—a mix of elegance and laid-back comfort.

A question about your career comes next, and you happily share some behind-the-scenes anecdotes from your latest film. "This," you begin, the affection in your tone unmistakable, "is a magnet Sydney gave me when we wrapped filming Immaculate earlier this year." You glance at the picture, a grin spreading across your face. "It’s a photo of the two of us in our nun costumes... let’s just say, not doing very nun-like things." You laugh, the absurdity of the memory still fresh, and hold the magnet up for the camera to focus.

The image shows the two of you mid-laughter, each holding a cigarette with exaggerated defiance, your habits slightly askew, as though caught mid-rebellion. "What's the best compliment you've received?" the interviewer asks, a hint of curiosity in their voice. You pause, your expression thoughtful. "Oh, that's a tough one," you say, your lips curling into a playful smile.

"I think the best compliment I’ve ever gotten was when someone said, 'You're like Meryl Streep… but, you know, with fewer Oscars.’" You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. "It was the kind of backhanded compliment that made me laugh for days." The interviewer laughs along with you. "That’s a good one," he says, clearly entertained. As you make your way towards the outside deck, the interviewer continues with another question. "Texting, calling, or FaceTiming?"

You grin as you lean casually against the railing, looking out at the beach below. "Oh, definitely FaceTiming," you say with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I’m terrible at replying to text messages. I’d much rather see people's live reactions, y’know?" A more personal question comes next, and you smile thoughtfully as the interviewer asks, “How do you handle the pressures of fame?”

You nod, taking a moment before responding. "I lean on my family and friends—they keep me grounded. And I remind myself that pressure is a privilege. It means people care about what I do, and that means a lot." Your voice softens as you speak, the sincerity of your words clear as you step into your home office, showcasing the awards and accolades lining the shelves. The conversation turns to your personal life, and a warm, affectionate smile spreads across your face.

"Congratulations on reaching your two-year anniversary with Drew!" The interviewer says with a grin, and you beam in response. "Thank you!" you reply, your eyes sparkling as you think of him. "Drew is incredible. He’s my biggest supporter, my partner in everything, and honestly, just my favourite person. It’s been such a special journey since starting my career, and I’m so grateful to have him by my side."

"What's the key to a successful relationship?" He asks. You pause as you walk through the hallway, your gaze softening as you think. "I think it’s communication and a lot of patience. No relationship is perfect, but being able to talk things through and genuinely listen to each other makes all the difference." You smile, adding, "Oh, and laughter—if you can laugh together, you can get through just about anything."

The sound of the front door creaking open interrupts the moment, and a familiar voice rings out, instantly making your face light up. "Oh, there’s Drew right now!" you say, smiling brightly as you move toward the foyer. The camera follows you, capturing the scene as Drew enters, with Nellie, your cocker spaniel, bounding beside him. "Hey, baby," He greets you as he slips off his sunglasses, pulling you close for a tender kiss

When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he spots the camera. "Oh, 73 Questions with Vogue?" he asks, a playful grin tugging at his lips. You giggle, nodding your head. "I forgot you were doing that today," he chuckles. “Go ahead, continue your interview," he adds with a fond look before walking off with Nellie. As the camera returns to you, you make your way toward the stairs, glancing over your shoulder to find Drew already on the floor, happily playing with Nellie.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, captured by the camera momentarily fixated on the fleeting connection. "What's something people don’t know about you?" the interviewer asks, pulling you back into the conversation. You pause, thinking for a second. "I’m actually allergic to most flowers," you reveal with a sheepish laugh. "Really? I wouldn’t have known," the interviewer responds, clearly surprised. "Oh, absolutely! When we film Outer Banks, they have to shoot around the flowers, or I'd be a sneezing mess," you confess, casually walking backward while maintaining a steady gaze with the camera.

The tour continues through luxurious walk-in closet, filled with designer attire. “What’s your pet peeve?” You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, definitely when people chew loudly. It’s like nails on a chalkboard for me. Chase is notorious for doing it on purpose, so I avoid him during my lunch breaks," you add, giggling at the memory. "Where was the best vacation you’ve been taken to?" the interviewer inquires as you step into your shared bedroom with Drew, the ocean stretching out just outside the windows.

"I think I’d have to say Vienna with Drew for my birthday," you say, smiling over your shoulder as you look out at the view. “A song you replay often?” "Hm, I think Charlie, Last Name Wilson," you say with a grin, rifling through the records. "It never gets old, and it’s super catchy." You smile as you pick it out. "Most of you guys would know that this song is also Drew and Austin’s favourite, so we always play it on set," you chuckle. "Does the rest of the Outer Banks cast like it too?" the interviewer asks, laughing along. "They don’t have much choice," you joke with a grin.

"Is there anything from any set that you've taken home with you?" The interviewer asks eagerly. “Oh, I love this question!" you exclaim, opening a drawer to reveal a variety of souvenirs. "This is the bag my character 'Whiskey' from Glass Onion owned," you say, showing off the brown frill bag. "And here’s a pack of Italian cigarettes from Immaculate, they’re just props, by the way," you add with a wink.

You pull out a cowboy hat. "This one’s from Tom on the set of Billy the Kid," you explain. "And this," you say with a smile, holding up a ring on a necklace. "This is Rafe's ring, the one he gave my character." "What a beautiful photo of the two of you," the interviewer notes, pointing to the large black-and-white photo of you and Drew at a Vogue photoshoot above your bed.

"It is! That day was actually so special for us. We both got the call saying we’d been cast in our respective roles that we’d been auditioning for," you explain, your face lighting up with nostalgia. The interviewer then asks about Drew’s upcoming movie. "Speaking of which, Drew’s film Queer is coming out very soon. Are you excited to watch it on the big screen?" "Yes, of course!" you say, your voice full of pride.

"I was so incredibly proud of him when he got the role. He was definitely excited too, especially since it’s, you know, the Luca Guadagnino." You chuckle. "I got the privilege to actually be on set for a bit, and it was amazing. Plus, I got to catch up with Daniel," you mention. "It was really nice to see him again." You smile, the pride evident in your expression as you talk about Drew's accomplishments.

The conversation is interrupted by a gentle knock at the door, and both you and the interviewer turn your attention toward it. Drew’s head peeks around the corner, his grin lighting up the frame as the camera zooms in on him. "I made some iced teas—yours is half and half," he says casually, stepping into the room with a tray holding two glasses. You can’t help but beam as he hands you your drink. "Aww, thanks, babe," you say gratefully, your fingers brushing his for a brief moment as you take the glass.

Drew hands the other glass to the interviewer, who looks pleasantly surprised. "Wow, thank you, Drew!" he says with a wide smile. "Of course," Drew replies warmly before glancing at you. "Let me know if you need anything else," he says, shooting you a quick wink before stepping out of the room. The camera lingers on him for a beat as he walks away, capturing his effortless charm.

You take a sip of the iced tea, the cool, refreshing taste spreading through you as you let out a content sigh. "Is this something you drink often?" the interviewer asks, clearly curious. You nod enthusiastically. "Oh, absolutely. I like mine half and half, and I drink it like 24/7," you say with a chuckle, the glass still in your hand. The interviewer grins before asking a more personal question. "I can tell Drew is very thoughtful. What’s your favourite trait of his?"

You laugh softly, caught off guard by the difficult question. "You can’t make me choose—I love everything about him!" you say with a playful grin, your tone light but sincere. The interviewer chuckles along with you, clearly charmed by your response. "Okay, okay, fair enough. But if you had to pick just one thing that comes to mind?"

You pause for a moment, your expression softening as you think. "Hmmm," you hum, swirling your iced tea absentmindedly. "I love the little things he does," you begin, your voice warm with affection. "Like how he always remembers my coffee order or when he leaves me little notes when I’m on set. It’s those small, thoughtful moments that really mean the most to me."

The camera captures your tender smile, and the interviewer smiles himself, visibly touched by your response. "That’s so sweet," he says, his tone genuine. "It really is," you smile, a soft, almost bashful grin spreading across your face. "He’s the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for," you say, your tone filled with warmth and sincerity.

The interviewer watches you with an amused smile, clearly endeared by the dreamy, almost schoolgirl-like look on your face as you think about Drew.

~

The Vogue 73 Questions interview quickly becomes an internet sensation, captivating fans. It was everywhere. Clips of your candid answers and sweet, unscripted moments—especially the one where Drew casually walked in with iced tea—became the ultimate proof of why you were Hollywood’s darling. Within hours of its release, the hashtag #73QuestionsWithY/n trends worldwide.

The comments section was flooded with fans losing their minds over the glimpse into your life. "Can we talk about how Drew KNOWS her iced tea order by heart? If this isn’t relationship goals, I don’t know what is." "Y/n casually being gorgeous, funny, and real in her Charleston dream home? I’m in love." "The way Drew looked at her when he walked in… I CAN’T. He’s so whipped, and I’m here for it."

Memes circulate, celebrating your witty remarks and playful demeanor, while your thoughtful insights and open vulnerability spark heartfelt discussions. The part where Drew sneaks into the interview with iced tea becomes a fan-favourite, with many dubbing it "the cutest boyfriend moment of the year."

“I love how real she is,” one fan tweeted, accompanied by screenshots of your answer about Drew’s little notes and coffee orders. Another post with a screenshot of you laughing at Drew’s confused “Oh, Vogue’s here” reaction read, “You can just tell they’re best friends. I want a love like this.”

The media couldn’t get enough, either. Everyone from gossip sites to prestigious magazines weighed in on how you’d managed to blend the glamour of your career with the warmth of your personality. The buzz reignites interest in your past projects and elevates anticipation for your upcoming ones. Your social media following soars as fans, old and new, praise your ability to remain grounded despite your success.

Meanwhile, Drew’s small but sweet cameo sparks renewed admiration for your relationship, with countless threads and videos dedicated to celebrating your bond. “Y/n and Drew are proof that true love exists,” one viral tweet declares, garnering thousands of likes and retweets. Another fan edits together a montage of your cutest moments from the interview, set to a romantic song, which quickly racks up millions of views.

Drew couldn’t stop teasing you about how viral the iced tea moment had become. “You’re lucky I didn’t walk in shirtless,” he joked one night as you scrolled through TikTok, finding yet another edit of you two. “Please,” you said, giggling, your hand affectionately stroking Nellie, “half the internet would’ve fainted.” “Half?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I think you’re underestimating me, babe.”

[newobsessionweekly]

She's my wife

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x wife!reader Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You are Tim's wife and join him to the station for the day, looking for a Metro recruit.

Fluff

A/N: I loooove this, I start to love writing fluff. Thank you for this request. I have so many ideas and I don't know where to start. Also, I'm looking forward to your requests. Thank you for your support and your feedback is more than welcomed and appreciated! Have a wonderful day, bubs and enjoy this story! Lots of love

Warnings: None, pure fluff, not proofread yet

Requested: Yes! Words: 3.8k Photo not mine, credits to the owner @renegadesstuff !

The familiar scent of stale coffee and printer ink hits you as soon as you step through the doors of the station. It's been years since you last set foot in that place, but the memories come rushing back with startling clarity. The station hasn't changed much—it's still a hive of activity, with officers rushing to and fro, phones ringing off the hook, and the occasional burst of laughter echoing through the halls.

As you make your way through the bustling room, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. This place holds so many memories for you—the late nights spent poring over case files, the adrenaline-fueled chases through the city streets, the quiet moments of comradery with your fellow officers. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memories are as vivid as ever.

You pause for a moment to take it all in, your gaze sweeping over the familiar surroundings. The bullpen, with its rows of desks and cluttered bulletin boards, holds a special place in your heart. It's where you once stood as a training officer, guiding rookies through their first days on the job.

Tim Bradford was your favorite and a handful from the start—a troubled rookie who struggled to follow orders and grasp the basics of the job. You remember the frustration of trying to teach him the ropes, the countless hours spent drilling him on the rookie book, only for him to push back and resist at every turn.

You remember the determination in Tim's eyes, the way he refused to give up even when the odds seemed stacked against him. And despite his rebellious nature, there was something about him—a spark of raw talent and an unwavering sense of loyalty—that set him apart from the rest.

But amidst the nostalgia, there's a sense of purpose driving you forward. You're here on official business, after all— you were sent there to find a new recruit to join Metro. And while part of you wishes you could stay lost in the memories of the past, another part knows that you have a job to do.

You're greeted by familiar faces at every turn. The joy radiating from your former colleagues as they see you again warms your heart, and you can't help but return their smiles with genuine affection.

Among the crowd, you notice Tim watching you from across the room, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. You shoot him a reassuring smile, silently promising to explain everything later.

Lucy stands beside Tim, a look of bewilderment on her face. "Who's that?" she whispers to Tim, nodding in your direction.

Tim's brow furrows for a moment as he studies you, then he turns back to Lucy with a shrug. "That's Y/N," he answers simply. "She works with Metro."

Lucy's eyes widen in surprise, her gaze darting back and forth between you and Tim. "What's she doing here?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.

Tim gives a nonchalant shrug, trying to downplay the situation. "No clue," he replies, though a hint of curiosity lingers in his tone. "Maybe she's just passing through."

As Tim watches you from across the room, a wave of warmth washes over him. Seeing you here, in the midst of his workplace, brings back a flood of memories—of late-night patrols, of shared laughter, of the bond you forged as rookie and TO. Despite the hustle and bustle of the station, his attention is drawn solely to you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of your beauty.

It's an understatement that he adores you. He loves you with every breath, every heart beat and he couldn't get enough of you. Since you were recruited for Metro, he missed you every shift, longing for you to make his duties more bearable.

There's a softness in his eyes as he approaches, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Despite the secrecy surrounding your relationship, seeing you there fills him with a sense of comfort and belonging. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the station, all that matters is the connection you share—a bond that transcends the boundaries of your professional lives.

"Hey there," he greets you warmly, "What are you doing here?"

Seeing him there, in his element, reminds you of the journey you've taken together—from a rookie and his training officer to partners in both crime and love.

You return Tim's smile with one of your own, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd drop by and say hi," you reply casually, purposely avoiding his question. "How's your day been?"

There's a twinkle in your eye as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the love and understanding that binds you together. Despite the complexities of your situation, there's an unspoken agreement between you—a shared understanding of the sacrifices you've made for the sake of your relationship.

Tim chuckles at your playful evasion, rolling his eyes. "Smooth as always," he replies, though there's a hint of amusement in his tone. "But seriously, what are you doing here?"

You feign innocence, batting your eyelashes at Tim with exaggerated sweetness. "You know I can't tell you." you tease, knowing full well that your response will only fuel his curiosity further.

Tim lets out a mock sigh, shaking his head in amusement. "Fine, keep your secrets," he says with a playful grin. "But just remember, I know where you sleep at night."

You laugh at his playful threat, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Wouldn't dream of it," you reply with a wink, before turning your attention to Lucy, who's been watching the exchange with interest.

A curious expression played on her face as Tim takes the opportunity to introduce you. "Officer Chen, meet Y/N," he says, gesturing to you with a fond smile. "She's a pain in the ass sometimes, but if you ignore her, she's ok."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy," you say, your tone friendly and inviting as you offered Lucy a warm smile, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard so much about you."

Lucy returns your smile, her curiosity piqued. "Nice to meet you," she replies, shaking your hand. "How do you know Tim, if you don't mind me asking?"

You glance at Tim with a mischievous twinkle in your eye, a playful smirk playing at your lips. "Oh, you know," you reply cryptically, earning a raised eyebrow from Tim. "We go way back. Let's just say he owes me a few favors."

Tim lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing full well that you're enjoying teasing him. "Don't listen to her, Chen," he says with a chuckle.

"You should listen to me if you want to survive him." you winked at his rookie " I created the monster and I'm the only one who knows how to defeat him."

Tim's eyebrows shoot up in mock indignation, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Hey now, watch it," he retorts, feigning offense. "I'll have you know, she doesn't need any help from you."

You laugh at Tim's exaggerated reaction, shooting him a knowing look. "Oh, I'm sure Lucy can handle herself just fine," you reply with a wink, earning a chuckle from Lucy.

"Wait–" the rookie began as realisation hits "You are Tim's TO?"

You glanced at your husband, smiling brightly as he put his grumpy expression on, "Guilty as charged."

As Lucy's eyes widen in shock and excitement, she can barely contain her enthusiasm. Her mind is racing with questions as she tries to process the realization that she's standing face-to-face with the legendary training officer.

The rookie turns to Tim, her expression incredulous. "You never mentioned her before!" she exclaims.

Tim crossed his arms above his chest, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Because my life is none of your business, Officer Chen," he retorts.

She faced you with a barrage of questions, her enthusiasm didn't wane, "What was Tim like as a rookie? I heard he wasn't so keen on following orders, is it true?"

You smiled at her, starting to like her more and more. She's definitely giving Tim a hard time. What you know from Tim and seeing her so curious and exited, you knew she has what it takes to be a successful cop.

Before you can respond, Tim interrupts, his irritation growing by the second. "Alright, that's enough, Chen," he barks, his tone firm and commanding. "Shop, now!"

"Yes, sir."

Lucy's excitement fades as she reluctantly obeys Tim's orders, shooting you an apologetic look before hurrying off to prepare for the patrol. As she disappears from view, Tim lets out a frustrated sigh, the grumpiness lifting slightly as he turns back to you.

"She seems nice," you comment, nodding towards where Lucy disappeared. "She's a good kid."

Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair as he considers your words. "Yeah, you're probably right," he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You reach out to gently squeeze his hand, a reassuring smile playing on your lips. "I know, and I know that sometimes a little kindness goes a long way," you say gently. "She'll appreciate it in the long run."

As Tim gazes at you, a mixture of admiration and gratitude flickers in his eyes. He's more than just a grumpy, hard-to-please man—he's a devoted husband, a dedicated cop, and a man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Despite his tough exterior, there's a vulnerability in his gaze.

The sun filters through the windows of the station, its golden rays dance across Tim's face, casting a warm glow that accentuates his rugged features. He appears even more handsome in this moment, his chiseled jawline and piercing gaze illuminated by the soft light.

His sandy blonde hair catches the sunlight, creating a halo of golden warmth around his head. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, soften in the gentle light, revealing a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

As Tim searched your face, you're bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, the sunlight highlighting the delicate contours of your face and the warmth of your smile. Your eyes, a mesmerizing shade, sparkle with mischief and warmth, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

He peaked around at the officers, everyone minding their business, before he leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hand gently cups your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive, as if he never wants to let you go. You feel the soft brush of his lips against yours, a gentle yet insistent pressure that ignites a fire deep within your soul.

As the kiss deepens, you feel his other hand slide around your waist, pulling you closer until there's barely an inch of space between you. His touch is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you melt into his embrace.

His lips move against yours with a hunger that matches your own, each kiss a testament to the love and longing that burns between you. There's a raw intensity to his touch, a desperate need to be as close to you as humanly possible.

For a brief instant, time seems to stand still as you respond eagerly, your heart racing as you lean into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his embrace. Despite its brevity, the intensity of the moment leaves you dizzy with desire, longing for more even as you reluctantly pull away.

Before the moment can linger, Tim's attention is drawn to something behind you. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you realize that Lucy is watching from afar, a curious expression on her face, sided by her mouth forming an "o" shape filled with surprise.

Tim's lips curl into a wry smile as he leans in to murmur in your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. "Looks like we've got a little shadow," he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. "She's gonna be a pain in my ass all day!"

You laugh softly at Tim's comment, shaking your head in amusement. "Well, you did sign up for this when you became her TO," you tease, a playful glint in your eyes. "Just be nice, okay? She's just curious."

Tim rolls his eyes at your advice, but there's a hint of affection in his gaze as he gazes at you. "Fine, I'll try to play nice," he concedes with a grin. "But no promises if she starts asking too many questions."

As your husband heads off for patrol with Lucy, you find yourself seated across from Sergeant Grey in his office, the familiar surroundings offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of the precinct. His office is tidy yet lived-in, with stacks of paperwork neatly organized on his desk and a few personal mementos scattered about—a photo of his family, a commendation plaque from his years of service.

Wade offers you a warm smile as you settle into your seat, "Y/N, it's been a while. Think the last time I saw you was at your wedding?"

You nod in agreement, "It hasn't been that long. But you know Metro, it keeps me busy."

"Well, it's always a pleasure to have you around." Sergeant Grey's words of praise for your time as an officer at the station warm your heart, "You were one of the best we had," he continues, sincerity evident in his tone. "It's a shame to lose you to Metro."

As the conversation progresses, you take a deep breath before broaching the subject of your visit. "Sir, I'm here on official business," you explain, your tone serious. "Metro is recruiting, and I'm here to find the best officer for the job."

Grey nods in understanding, "I see. And do you have anyone in mind?" he asks, leaning forward slightly.

You hesitate for a moment before responding. "Actually, I do," you admit, your gaze meeting his. "I think Officer Bradford would be the best fit for Metro."

He considers your words for a moment before responding. "I have to say, I agree with you, Tim would make an excellent addition to Metro."

There's a hint of hesitation in your eyes as he speaks, and you can tell that he senses there's more to your recommendation than meets the eye. "Is there something else on your mind, Y/N?" he asks, his tone gentle but probing.

You paused, choosing your words carefully before responding. "Well, sir, it's just... I'm not sure if it's appropriate for me to recommend Tim," you admit, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't want it to seem like a conflict of interests."

You found yourself grappling with a mix of emotions. There's a deep-rooted sense of pride your work, coupled with a genuine desire to see Tim succeed in his career.

"Trust me, Y/N, Officer Bradford's qualifications speak for themselves." he leaned back on his chair, "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it from here. We both know you and Tim keep your private life apart, and I'll make sure Metro knows this decision is based solely on Tim's achievements."

Sergeant Grey's words sink in, a rush of relief floods through you, washing away some of the anxiety that had been gnawing at your nerves. It's comforting to know that your integrity as an officer won't be called into question, that your personal connection with Tim won't overshadow his merits.

With a grateful smile, you nod in appreciation, the knot of worry in your stomach loosening with each word he speaks. "Thank you, Sir."

"Now go find your husband!"

In the dimly lit interior of the shop, the tension between Tim and Lucy was palpable. Lucy's curiosity burned bright, fueled by suspicions and unanswered questions.

"So..." Lucy ventured, breaking the uneasy silence. "I saw you and Y/N kissing, back at the station. Is she your girlfriend?"

Tim's jaw clenched at the inquiry, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "That's none of your business, Chen," he shot back, his tone gruff.

Lucy persisted, undeterred by his dismissive tone. "Come on, Tim," she pressed. "You can't just brush this off. I obviously know there's something going on between you two."

But Tim remained stoic, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I said it's none of your business," he repeated, his voice terse.

Lucy gaze lingered on him, studying his face. She couldn't read anything but irritation caused by her intrusion into his private life. She searched his hands, no sight of any ring, so the possibility of you being his wife dropped.

"Do you like her?" she insisted.

"What's the proper procedure for securing a crime scene?" he replied to her question, avoiding giving any details about you.

"Come on. You can't avoid this forever. Are you and her just colleagues, or is there something more?"

Tim's irritation simmers beneath the surface, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. He had hoped to avoid this line of questioning, to keep his personal life separate from his professional one. But Lucy's relentless curiosity had pushed him to his breaking point.

"What's the recommended procedure for securing a firearm during an arrest?"

She couldn't shake the feeling of defeat, knowing deep down that Tim wouldn't give her the answers she sought. Despite her best efforts to uncover the truth about Tim's relationship with you, she found herself hitting a dead end.

"I saw the way you look at her. You have feelings for her?"

"When searching a suspect, what areas of their body should you prioritize for pat-downs?"

"Fine. I'll shut up."

Confusion clouded Lucy's thoughts as she struggled to make sense of the situation. She couldn't understand why Tim was so guarded about his personal life, especially when it came to someone who seemed to hold such significance to him. It left her feeling unsettled, a nagging sense of curiosity gnawing at her.

As he focuses on the road ahead, he can't help but feel annoyed by Lucy's persistence. He knows she means well, but he's not ready to share the intimate details of his relationship with the woman he loves. He just wants to focus on their job, to keep their partnership strictly professional.

As lunchtime approached, the bustling street food area near the station came to life with the sound of chatter and the aroma of sizzling food. Amidst the crowd, you found an empty table, enjoying the inviting atmosphere, with colorful umbrellas providing shade from the midday sun as you waited for Tim.

Your husband approached the table where you were seated, a sense of defeat hung heavy in the air, exhausted from all of his rookie's questions. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a tangible reminder of the connection you shared.

As the conversation turns to you, Tim leans in with a curious glint in his eyes. "So, what were you doing at the station earlier?"

"Metro sent me to find a recruit," you confess, your gaze meeting Tim's.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "And did you find one?"

Angela rises from her seat, flashing a smile, "I hate to break up the party, but duty calls. I'll catch you guys later."

You nod understandingly, bidding her farewell with a wave as she heads off to resume her patrol.

You return your attention to Tim, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah. You."

Tim's eyes widen in disbelief, his expression a mix of shock and excitement. "Me? Are you serious?"

Nyla's figure blended into the bustling crowd as she disappears down the street with her rookie, leaving you and Tim alone.

You give him a knowing smirk. "Dead serious. They've been considering you for a while. Sending me down to the station was just a formality—a test, to see if I was ready for a promotion or something."

"You're getting promoted?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's awesome, babe. I'm proud of you."

As the lunch break comes to an end for Tim, he and his rookie prepare to go on patrol again. They stand by the patrol car, gearing up for their shift.

"Lucy, you're driving," Tim says, tossing her the keys with a grin. "Show me what you got."

Lucy's eyes light up with excitement as she catches the keys, nodding eagerly. "You got it, Officer Bradford. Shotgun!"

While Tim is in the shop, double-checking some equipment, you lean over the car door, catching his attention. "Hey," you say softly, a hint of concern in your voice. "Be safe out there, okay? And have a good time."

Tim gives you a reassuring smile, placing a hand over yours on the door. "Always am, love. Don't worry about me."

Just as the car starts to move, you lean in closer, your voice barely a whisper against the noise of the street. "And Tim... I'm pregnant."

Tim's eyes widen in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at the unexpected news. You placed a playful kiss on his cheek, before the car pulls away, you watch Tim drive off with a mixture of excitement and fear.

You were scared of his reaction, delivering him the news this way gave you time to process and turn all the possible scenarios upside down.

He meets your gaze one last time before the car disappears down the street, a rush of emotions flooding his mind—joy, excitement, and a touch of nervousness. But above all, there's a deep sense of love and gratitude for the life you've created together.

"Did you get your TO pregnant?" Lucy asks, her tone a mixture of surprise and incredulity.

Tim's jaw tightens, a flash of irritation crossing his features at the inappropriate question. He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before responding firmly.

"She's my wife," Tim states, his voice leaving no room for further inquiry. "Now, shut up and drive."

He reaches up to where his uniform shirt collar meets his neck, pulling out a small chain with a wedding ring and some dog tags hanging from it. It's a subtle gesture, but one that holds immense significance—a symbol of the most important moments of his life, from fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan to marrying you.

Lucy's eyes widen in realization, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she realizes her mistake. Without another word, she focuses on the road ahead, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Tim sits back in his seat, his mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. Despite the initial shock, a sense of pride and excitement fills him at the prospect of becoming a father. And as the patrol car speeds through the city streets, Tim's thoughts are consumed with thoughts of the future.

[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 3

pairing: you x drew starkey

The night Drew came back from his so-called “night out with the boys”, the tension was thick in the apartment. The sound of the front door creaking open felt like a bomb going off. You had been sitting on the couch for the last hour, alternatives between staring at your phone and looking out the window, hoping that something – anything – would make the ache in your chest fade. But the pain only deepened, and as the door clicked closed behind him, your stomach churned in a mix for dread and anger.

Drew walked in, his usual confident stride slowing when he saw you sitting there. There was a slight hesitation in his step, a quiet sign that he knew something was off. His eyes immediately darted to you, a mix of concern and something else that you couldn’t quite read. But the moment he stepped further into the room, your frustration broke free.

You didn’t even give him a chance to greet you, the words spilling out before he could say a word. “You’re late,” you said, your voice flat but filled with an edge he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Drew stopped in his tracks, glancing at his watch. “I told you, it was just a night out with the guys. Nothing big.” He said, his tone light, almost too casual. But you saw right through it. His words didn’t feel genuine anymore. You had heard the excuses before, and they were getting old.

You stood up, not wanting to be so passive about it anymore. “A night out with the guys? Really? That’s what you’re going with?” The bitterness in your voice caught you off guard, but there was no going back now.

Drew looked taken aback by the sharpness in your voice. “What’s going on, y/n?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you saw those photos.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to contain the words that had been bubbling up inside for days. “Yeah, I saw the photos, Drew. You and Odessa. Out in public again. Walking around like everything is fine. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“No. Don’t you dare try to explain it away. I’m not stupid. I can see exactly what’s going on.” You could feel the anger rising in your chest, a mix of hurt and frustration that you couldn’t keep bottled up any longer. “You’re out with her, looking all cozy, like she’s the one you want. Not me. And I just … I don’t get it. You told me it was all fake, just for the cameras, but I can’t keep pretending that I believe you.”

Drew’s face hardened, and the disappointment in his eyes stung more than anything. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his cool, but you saw the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re making something out of nothing. It’s just part of the job, I swear. She’s just a co-star, and this is all for publicity. You know that. I thought you understood that.”

“Understand?” you laughed bitterly, but the sound came out more like a sob. “You think I understand? You think I’m supposed to just sit here and watch you with her while pretending like everything is fine? No, Drew. I can’t do that. I can’t keep pretending that this isn’t hurting me. That I’m not losing you, piece by piece.”

Drew stepped closer to you, his expression softening as if trying to reach you, but you were too far gone. Too far past the point of no return.

“I’m trying okay?” His voice cracked slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was being honest, but it didn’t change anything. “I’m trying to make this work, but this whole thing is a mess. I never wanted it to be like this.”

You shook your head, feeling the sting of his words like a slap across your face. “Make it work? How do you expect me to trust you when I see you out there with her, smiling like nothing’s wrong? How do you expect me to keep believing you when I know that every word you’ve said about us was just...  just a lie?”

Drew’s face darkened at your accusation, his voice rising as the frustration that had been simmering inside him for days boiled over. “I’m not lying to you, Y/N! I never wanted this to happen either, but this is the way things are right now. I’m doing what I have to do, for both of us.”

“For both of us?” you scoffed, the tears that had been building in your eyes finally breaking free. “This is for you, Drew. It’s always been for you. For your career, for your image. And I’m just supposed to sit here and be okay with it? You’re asking me to pretend like I’m okay with being second to her, to everything you’re doing for the cameras. You know what, Drew? I can’t do that anymore. I’m done pretending.”

There was a long, tense silence between you, both of you staring at each other as if trying to make sense of the chaos you had created. Drew ran a hand through his hair, his expression pained but you were beyond caring. You had tried so hard to hold on, to believe him and in what you had, but every day felt like a betrayal.

You stepped back, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t trust you anymore, Drew. Not after everything. You’ve lied to me over and over, and I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’m not going to keep living in this lie, this lie that both of you have created for the world.”

Drew looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he just closed his eyes, the weight of your words crashing over him. He didn’t speak for a long moment, and for the first time, you realized he was just as lost as you were. But that didn’t change the fact it was too late.

Without another word, you grabbed your jacket, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know where you were going, but you couldn’t stay in that apartment with him. Not like this. You needed space, you needed to breathe.

You walked the streets aimlessly, tears still wet on your cheeks as the cold air bit at your skin. Every step felt like a weight, each one dragging you further from the man you thought you knew. The city lights flickered in the distance, but they did nothing to brighten the darkness in your heart.

You didn’t even know how far you had walked until you found yourself standing in front of a quiet park by the water. The silence felt both comforting and unbearable, as if the world around you had completely disappeared. You collapsed onto a bench, hugging your arms to your chest to stave off the cold, but it did little to ease the storm inside of you.

The moments from earlier replayed in your mind – the fight, Drew’s words, your own pain – and all you could do was sit there and feel the weight of it all.

That’s when the flash of camera lights caught your attention.

At first, you didn’t react, too numb to care about the photographers who had followed you. But then, the flashes intensified. You wiped your face quickly, but it didn’t stop them. The tears you had tried to hide were now on full display, and you felt like your privacy, your pain was being exposed to the world.

“Y/N! Over here! A little smile for us!” A photographer called out, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have the strength to smile, not when everything felt so broken.

Your heart thudded in your chest as more flashes went off, capturing the raw emotion on your face – the hurt, the betrayal, the confusion. You could hear their voices, the jarring sound of camera clicks, as they shouted for you to look at the camera. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to perform for them. Not anymore.

You turned away, trying to escape their prying eyes, but you knew it was futile. The pictures will be everywhere tomorrow. The world would see you in this vulnerable state, and it felt like another punch to the gut.

You couldn’t stop the tears now. You couldn’t stop the feeling of being exposed, of being broke, of being so utterly alone in a world that seemed to move on without you.

A/N: please don’t hate me LOL😭

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog @purplerose291

[glossdebut]

study break | MYG

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t. As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

✧ TAGS: college au, smut, fluff

✧ WARNINGS: oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, slight overstimulation

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so this is NOT price of fame chapter two, nor is it the seokjin fic that i’ve been teasing for weeks. this is instead a secret third thing, inspired by my own post that has been living rent free in my brain for the past couple of days. i promise POF2 and the seokjin fic are both coming, but i had to get this out before i lost my damn mind. not beta read, so feel free to inform me of any mistakes i missed. P.S. i know the header isn’t debut yoongi, don’t fucking @ me about it!! i had this photo on hand ):

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.2k words

Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t.

As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

Things were so much easier when you—wrongfully—assumed he was an asshole. At least then, the arrangement was clear: you met him in the library, tried not to get annoyed at what a know-it-all he seemed to be for an hour, and then went back to your dorm with a slightly easier method of memorizing the circle of fifths under your belt. It went on like that for weeks. Quick and effective, mostly painless.

But then, when awkward small talk developed into genuine interest, you got to know him.

You learned that the reason he never takes notes in class is because he doesn’t have to. He taught himself all of the basics of music theory years ago, could’ve tested out and moved on to a more advanced class, but he wanted an easy A in his course load. You learned that he’s a classical piano major. He likes it just fine, but it’s really a means to an end. You learned that he writes his own raps, performs them at underground shows with a group of friends some weekends, that that’s what he really wants to do. You learned that he’s not an asshole and he’s just shy, that he’s been working up the courage to ask you out all semester.

You learned even more about him on your first date.

Such as: he’s the self-proclaimed master of grilling meat, and he’ll load up your plate for you before he even thinks of feeding himself. He may act like he’s not interested in going to the noraebang, but with just the slightest bit of insistence from you he’ll fold like a piece of paper. He thinks it’s cute when you snatch his snapback right off of his head and put it on your own. Even cuter when you fumble through a verse of Epik High’s ‘Love Love Love,’ squealing happily when he joins in. 

And: he kisses like he’s got something to prove. Knows all the right ways to use his tongue. Makes a low noise in the back of his throat when you do something he likes. Isn’t the slightest bit shy about pulling you into his lap, nor about slipping his hand into your panties right there, Epik High forgotten in favor of making you cum around his skilled fingers. 

So. Yeah.

Yoongi is no longer an effective tutor, because instead he is a fucking distraction.

You’re supposed to be studying. You had been studying, both of you putting up a valiant effort for a full hour and a half. But just as you’d gotten a firm grasp on the seven musical modes—Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, Locrian—-Yoongi was whining, insisting on taking a break. You tried to put up a fight, but you’re especially weak when Yoongi gets all sulky, soft pink lips pulled into a pout.

Notecards tossed aside, your fifteen minute study break quickly devolves into half an hour of making out on Yoongi’s bed. As soft music filters into his dorm room from his laptop, you lose track of time with his tongue sliding against yours, the occasional sting of his teeth on your bottom lip because he knows you like it. When you feel his erection pressed against your hip it quickly becomes very clear that you’re both done studying for the time being.

The way Yoongi kisses you never fails to make you crazy. His lips on yours are gentle but commanding at the same time, his hands in your hair holding your head exactly where he wants it as he licks into your mouth like he owns it. When he pulls away, you barely have a chance to catch your breath before he’s trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Your hips rock up against his, desperate for friction. 

“Baby,” Yoongi murmurs against your skin. His hands slide down from your hair to gently tug at the waistband of your jeans, an index finger circling teasingly around the button. “Wanna eat you out. You want that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, gasping when he nips at the underside of your jaw. Your voice is high, needy, foreign to your own ears. He’s good at that—at pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t know you could make.

He wastes no time in peeling your jeans down your legs, tossing them off the bed and out of his way. Yoongi likes to have as much space as possible when he eats you out, you’ve learned. He likes to take his time, spread you out as much as he can on his shitty dorm-provided twin size mattress. Just because he can make you cum in record time—and he can—doesn’t mean he likes to. Not when he’d much rather drag it out, savor you in every imaginable way until you can’t take it anymore. 

You know you’re in for it when he doesn’t take your panties off right away. Instead, when he settles between your thighs, all he does is look for a moment, his gaze laser-focused on the growing wetness seeping through the cotton. 

It lasts long enough that you start to squirm, his eyes flicking up to meet yours at the sudden movement.

“A-are you…?” you start, but you trail off, suddenly feeling way too fucking shy for something you’ve done with him more times than you can count at this point. 

“Yeah,” he hums, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “Yeah, I’m getting to it, sweetness. I just wanted to look at you for a second. Is that okay?”

You shiver, swallowing thickly as you nod.

“You sure?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, so close to where you want him. “You don’t have anywhere better to be?”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” you complain, sitting up for a moment to flick him on the forehead.

“Yah, so disrespectful,” he admonishes with a bite right where he’d just kissed. “I’m just playing. I know you don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I don’t,” you agree, suspicious. He’s up to something.

“No, you don’t,” Yoongi hums knowingly, holding your gaze as he presses a kiss right to your clit. It makes your breath hitch, even with your panties subduing the feeling. “Because you love the way I eat this pussy, don’t you, baby?”

The answer is yes, of course. Yoongi always makes you feel so good no matter what he’s doing, but eating you out is definitely where he excels. But something about how cocky he’s being makes something stir inside of you—-makes you feel a little bold, a little mean. 

“When you actually get around to it, yeah.”

Yoongi chuckles darkly, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hip. When he lifts his head his eyes are all pupil. “It’s like that, huh?” he asks, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Maybe,” you say, goading.

He clicks his tongue, dipping down to lick a broad stripe over your pussy without any warning. When he reaches your clothed clit, he wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, tearing a surprised moan from you.

“F-fuck!” Your fingers tangle in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, but the overwhelming pleasure is gone as quickly as it came.

“Such a brat,” Yoongi mumbles, sinking his teeth into the softness of your inner thigh again, harder this time. “Just wanted to take my time, treat you nice. But if you want it like this, fine.”

Mercifully, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He roughly drags them down your legs until they’re thrown onto the floor, out of sight just like your jeans.

You gasp when his fingers instantly slide over your slippery cunt, making you gasp. “You get this wet just from pissing me off?” he scoffs, and you shake your head. 

“N-no,” you whimper.

“No?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head at you with a smirk. You feel like you’re going to die when his fingers find your clit, rubbing in punishing little circles. “Tell me what gets you this wet, then, baby.”

“You!” you moan. It feels embarrassingly fast, but you’re close. You’re gonna cum before he even gets his mouth on you properly. Maybe that’s his goal. “You, fuck, Yoongi.”

“That’s right,” he purrs. “You gonna cum already, pretty girl? Before I even get to taste you?”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Motherfucker. 

You wouldn’t be able to protest even if you wanted to, your brain already succumbing to the pleasant buzz of your impending orgasm. All you can do is squirm and rock up against Yoongi’s fingertips, completely at his mercy.

“That’s okay,” Yoongi continues, unbothered as you shake and moan in front of him. “I know you can give me another one. Go ahead, sweetness. Cum for me.”

Your release tears through you, sudden and intense and all-consuming. You’re sure there are words coming out of your mouth, but between the heat spreading through your body and the static buzzing in your ears, you honestly have no idea what they could be. Yoongi’s fingers keep rubbing at your abused clit until you’re trembling, gasping for breath between moans.

“Filthy girl,” he hums. Whatever you said must’ve been good, because he sounds almost proud of you as he runs his hands over your thighs. “You gonna let me take my time now?”

“Yes,” you gasp, still reeling from your orgasm. Yoongi taking his time is exactly what you need right now, or else you’ll go into complete overdrive. Absently, you think that was his plan all along, but that thought melts away as soon as Yoongi dips down and delves his tongue into your cunt, slow and thorough. 

Your brain? Empty. Brain so fucking empty.

“Shit,” he groans against you, his voice so low and gravelly you can feel the vibration of his words against your pussy. “You always taste so fucking good after you cum for me.”

You thread your fingers through his hair again, moaning long and low as he spreads you apart with his thumbs and dives back in. His nose nudges just slightly against your clit as he licks into you, the barely-there contact making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Yoongiiii,” you moan, earning an appreciative moan from him as he dips his tongue into your entrance.

Your first orgasm took you by surprise, but you can tell already that this one is going to be a slow burn, tendrils of heat that never really got a chance to fade spreading through your body, adagio.

As promised, Yoongi takes his sweet time. He sets an agonizing rhythm: licking into you, dragging his tongue up your pussy, gently sucking your clit into his mouth, over and over again until you’re practically a puddle on his mattress.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” you mewl, your thighs shaking around his head. You’d blush at the sounds he’s producing between your legs, slurping and sucking at you, if you weren’t so fucked out. Instead, all it does is turn you on even more, make you even wetter for him. 

Yoongi pulls back, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I know, baby,” he murmurs soothingly. “You ready to cum again?”

Wordlessly, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut. Two fingers tease at your entrance, getting nice and wet before Yoongi slides them in, and just like that, you’re ready to burst.

“Nnngh—fuck, ‘m so fucking close,” you slur, grasping at his hair as he pumps his fingers into you.

“Give it to me,” he says, before sucking your clit into his mouth again and making stars burst behind your eyelids.

His fingers curl just right, and then you’re moaning brokenly, bucking up against his fingers and mouth as you cum again.

It feels like it lasts forever. Yoongi moans around your clit as you clench around his fingers, squeezing tight tight tight as heat crashes over you in waves. You feel his fingers withdraw, and then his tongue is fucking into you again, licking every last drop he’s earned from you.

He only breaks away when you’re pushing at his head, overstimulated and spent.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he rumbles, climbing up the bed so he’s on top of you, bracing himself on his elbows. He’s one to talk. He always looks so good like this—swollen lips and dark eyes, the bottom half of his face slick from eating you out so fucking well. “You can just cum and cum for me, can’t you?”

“You are insane,” you breathe, grasping at the strings of his sweatshirt to pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. 

Yoongi chuckles, pulling away just to press his forehead against yours. “You like it,” he says.

“I like you,” you correct, closing your eyes. “Even though I’m going to fail my final because of you.”

That earns a real laugh from Yoongi, his nose scrunching. “You’re not gonna fail.”

“I am,” you say, nodding sagely. “But it’ll be worth it.”

“That so?” He presses another kiss to your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Besides, I’ll just find a better tutor next semester when I have to retake.”

That earns you a sharp jab of Yoongi’s fingers to your side, but he’s got one of those gummy smiles on his face as you squeal under him, so no harm done.

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[fortheb0ys]

FUCK ME LIKE THE MEN BETWEEN THOSE PAGES

Bottom John Price x Top Male Reader

Just Price brain rot🤤 I've always wanted to a model for MLM porn sites ngl so I'm living through this fic🙏 As usual not proofread :)

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

Prices would be one of those faceless models for those erotic gay romance novels. All his work would be faceless. Just something he did to make money on the side.

It was a secret that was long forgotten. Memories replaced by his military service. His body more scarred than his younger self's. His own books but they were just collecting dust in a box.

When you got together, you had found one of the books Price had forgotten that was on a shelf. Your eyes grew wide as you noiced it was Price's shirtless body on the front cover. A small mole on his left hip was telltale that it was him.

Flipping the book over and reading the synopsis reveals the dirty content of it. All the colour washes from Price's face as he sees what you have in your hand.

Price was about to open his mouth to quickly deny it but saw your giddy excitement. Though Price felt a bit shameful, he told you that there was more. A lot more.

With much hesitation from him and a whole lot more convincing from you, Price lent you the books. His amazing body on every single one of them. A new scar here and there as the

He had been surprised that you never poked fun at him and that you were genuinely interested in his past works.

You'd admit that the sex scenes depicted were the main thing that got you interested. You'd imagine Price vividly as the characters he model on the front covers. It didn't take long for you to read through the lot of them.

When Price would be on deployment, he'd get a text from you.

Cum on the front cover or on the pages. Or others with your erect cock slotted like a bookmark between the pages with the dirtiest scenes, precum dripping onto the sheets.

You'd send worded texts underneath the photo like "Try these with me?" or "What if were we the ones to do this?"

Price hated himself for showing you the books right before the mission, making the wait painfully long.

Sexualy frustrated and slightly pissed he had to wait for his deployment to end, Price would have a lonely wank in his barracks. His fingers didn't feel right. His fantasies never felt like details in the books. Nothing felt like you.

Once he got back, Price had to fight back a boner as the anticipation took over him. He went through countless cigars trying to get his mind on something else. The 141 Boys knew something was up. Soap had to control the intrusive thoughts to ask if you were waiting naked when Price returned home.

Which he wasn't wrong. The moment Price came through that door he was already painfully hard. Before he could even open his mouth to greet you, you were on him like a fly to honey, attacking his neck with bruising kisses. Whispering the dirty dialog from one of the books made Price weak in the knees.

Thus was the beginning of your roleplay sex.

Your playtime is always different. Numerous scenarios with one thing in common: Mind blowing sex.

Price would play a royal guard, and you, the prince. A prince in a loveless engagement to a princess. A guard pleading loyalty as he rides the prince on the royal throne.

A grade slipping college student fucking his teacher in an empty classroom for extra credit. Blowjows underneath desks replaces the outdated method of study and paying attention to lectures.

A hunter who falls in love with a werewolf he's supposed to kill. The wolf is just a dumb puppy who needs to be told what to do. With a collar around his neck, ready to be tugged at and the willingness to please his master, puppy soon becomes skilled at lapping at master's hole.

A rowdy rockstar and his stressed out manager. The musician needing to burn off the adrenaline after the show and the poor management needing the stress fucked out of him. The real show was played backstage. The manager put on quite the proformance, his deep moans sounded much better than your singing.

A sex therapist that prefers to take on a more hands-on approach. That skilled tongue was used more than just giving advice.

Or lastly, a priest beguiled by a gorgeous sinner. Guilt was all he felt but it felt like true heaven. God would forgive any sin if he showed true repentance, right? Wouldn't Jesus have died for nothing if we didn't sin?

Sure, some where terrible written and some were written by women with a fetish for gay men. Seeing you act out the scenes without missing a beat or breaking out into laughter while you quoted the dirtiest and most ridiculous things.

You'd remember every dirty word uttered. Every scenario memorized. Price was starting to understand what those white women on TikTok saw in those fucking books. It was just too bad they couldn't live it out like he could.

[smellysluna]

Could you write an Adrien x reader imagine where they’re forced to date by their parents to promote an upcoming fashion collaboration something, and then go from hating each other and being super fake to falling in love for real?

You know what? I postponed this ask waaaay to much. So what did I do? I sat down and took up your challenge. Go and enjoy the story you asked for but I never put the effort to make - until now e.e

warnings? no warnings apply :p

You always thought arranged dates were a relic of the past, something that only happened in old movies or distant cultures. Yet here you were, sitting across from Adrien Agreste, the face of the Agreste fashion empire.

Your parents have arranged this meeting to promote an upcoming collaboration between their brands, hoping the buzz around your "relationship" would skyrocket their sales.

Adrien looked perfect, as always—his blond hair artfully tousled, green eyes bright but distant. Always maintaining the perfect façade. Unlike you, painfully aware of every imperfection and every nervous gesture.

"Let's get one thing straight," Adrien said, breaking the silence. His voice was calm but firm. "We don’t have to like each other, but we do have to make this work."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance. "Agreed. Let's just get through this."

For the next hour, you both put on a show for the paparazzi lurking outside, sharing forced smiles and rehearsed lines. The whole encounter felt like a poorly scripted play, and you couldn't wait for it to end.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of public appearances, photo shoots, and meticulously planned dates. Your parents had spared no expense in crafting the perfect narrative: two young heirs, brought together by fate and fashion. But behind the scenes, your interactions with Adrien were cold and apathetic.

One evening, after yet another tedious event, you found yourself walking alone in the Agreste mansion. The luxury of the place was suffocating, each room a reminder of the pressure you were under.

You wandered into the library, seeking solace among the rows of books.

"You like to read?" Adrien's voice startled you.

You turned to find him leaning against the doorway, a curious look on his face. "Yeah," you admitted. "It's one of the few ways I can escape."

He nodded, stepping into the room. "I get that. Sometimes I feel like my whole life is scripted. But I prefer watching anime to get some distraction." And patrolling as Chat Noir, though he wasn’t about to expose his best-kept secret to you.

For a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and it struck a chord within. Maybe you weren't so different after all.

As the days passed, the cracks in your mutual disdain began to show. You still argued over trivial things and maintained a facade of disinterest, but there were moments—small, fleeting moments—when you glimpsed the real Adrien beneath his polished exterior.

One afternoon, you were both at a photoshoot for the collaboration campaign. The theme was a romantic picnic, complete with a vintage blanket and a basket of props. The director called for a break, and you and Adrien found yourselves alone in the park.

"Here," Adrien said, handing you a water bottle. "You look like you could use this."

"Thanks," you replied, surprised by the gesture. "I didn't expect you to be so… thoughtful."

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

He hesitated, then said, "Like how terrible I am at cooking. I once set the kitchen on fire trying to make toast."

You laughed, picturing the usually composed Adrien in such a chaotic situation. "Seriously? Toast?"

He grinned, a little sheepishly. "Yeah, it was pretty bad. I had to call the fire department and everything. My father was not impressed."

You chuckled, the tension between you easing a bit. "Well, remind me never to let you near my kitchen."

He laughed along with you, the sound genuine and warm. "Deal. And maybe one day you can teach me how to make toast without causing a disaster."

One day, after a particularly exhausting photoshoot, Adrien and you found yourselves with a rare afternoon off. Deciding to make the most of it, you both ended up in the Agreste mansion's sprawling garden. The setting was beautiful and serene, a perfect escape from the public eye.

As you wandered through the lush greenery, admiring the flowers, you suddenly felt a cold splash of water on your neck. You turned around to see Adrien standing there, a mischievous grin on his face and a small water gun in his hand.

"Did you just...?" you began, but before you could finish, he squirted you again, laughing.

"Lighten up!" he teased. "It's just a bit of water."

You couldn't help but laugh, the unexpected prank breaking through the formality that often hung between you. "Oh, you're going to regret that!" you said, grabbing a nearby watering can and splashing him back.

What ensued was a playful water fight, with both of you dodging and splashing, laughing like carefree kids. It felt liberating to let go and just have fun, forgetting about the pressures and expectations that usually weighed you down.

Finally, drenched and out of breath, you both collapsed onto the grass, still giggling.

"Okay, I have to admit, that was pretty fun," you said, wiping water from your face.

Adrien smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "See? I knew you had it in you."

"Just don't make a habit of it," you warned playfully. "Or I might have to come up with a prank of my own."

"I'd like to see you try," he challenged, his grin widening.

As you lay there, catching your breath, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen Adrien truly relax and let his guard down. It made it more obvious that he's not just a perfect, polished model, but a real person who wants to laugh and have fun.

As the collaboration launch approached, your relationship with Adrien grew deeper. You began to spend more time together, not just for the cameras, but because you genuinely enjoyed each other's company. You talked about everything—your favourite anime, your dreams, your fears, your hopes for the future.

One day, you were both at a charity event for Adrien's school, where he introduced you to his friends. Nino, Marinette, Alya—they were welcoming and kind, and you felt a pang of envy at the close-knit group they formed.

"You're lucky to have such great friends," you said to Adrien as you watched them from a distance.

"I know," he replied, a fond smile on his face. "They keep me grounded."

"Tell me more about them," you urged.

He did, and as he spoke, you saw a different side of him—one that was caring, loyal, and deeply connected to those he loved. It made you like him even more.

The night of the collaboration launch arrived, and the event was a resounding success. The venue was abuzz with excitement, filled with influential guests, dazzling lights, and the perfect blend of glamour and sophistication. Your parents were thrilled, the media couldn't get enough, and every detail had gone off without a hitch.

After a whirlwind of interviews, photos, and obligatory mingling, you and Adrien finally managed to slip away to a quiet balcony overlooking the city. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the heat and noise inside.

"We did it," you said, raising your glass to him. The city lights reflected in your eyes, adding a sparkle that matched your mood.

"Yeah, we did," he agreed, clinking his glass with yours. His smile was genuine, not just for the cameras this time. "But I want to tell you something."

You raised an eyebrow, heart beating, curiosity piqued. "Oh? What's that?"

He took a deep breath, looking out over the city before turning back to you. "I don't want this to end. This whole thing. I know it started as a publicity stunt, but somewhere along the way, it became real for me."

Your heart skipped a beat. "I...". The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. "I actually feel the same way," you admitted, feeling a rush of warmth on your face.

He laughed, a light, joyful sound that made your heart flutter. "Good. Because pretending to be in love with you was starting to feel way too easy."

You blushed, a mix of relief and happiness washing over you. "So, what now?"

Adrien stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands. "Let's stop pretending and see where this takes us. For real this time."

Adrien stepped closer, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Now," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "we make this real."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect moment. You could feel the genuine emotion behind his kiss, a stark contrast to the rehearsed displays of affection you'd shown the world.

As the kiss deepened, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands found their way to your waist, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. The kiss was intoxicating, filled with all the feelings you'd both been holding back.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Adrien rested his forehead against yours. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he confessed, his voice full of warmth.

"Me too," you replied, feeling a flutter of joy.

The pressures of your parents and the fashion world still loomed, but they felt more manageable with Adrien by your side.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello 👋 can I get a little body switcheru with twist dorm liders and Yuu? Even better if we'd have F!Yuu in this one ❤️!

I don't think I'll be doing all the dorm leaders right now but just a few 🖤🖤🖤

Body Switch | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

What a gift! To see precisely what your obsession sees, to touch with their perfect hand, to hear their lovely voice whenever they opened their mouth. Oh, the possibilities are endless! No matter the circumstance this is the stuff of dreams nightmares:

Vil Schoenheit

“OH SEVENS!”

Is at first horrified at the feeling of not being in his perfectly preened body

In his clean and not dingy home

But it diminishes when he realizes the one screaming in the dirty mirror is you

His precious love

“Ergh these black heads are insane. My potato has been neglecting their routine. That’ll be good to make a note of.”

He immediately gets to work

He has to make the next 24 hours in his dearest’s body count 

and he’s got so much to do and such little time

Immediately he inspects your home and makes a note of everything that’s lacking in Ramshackle

Perfect ammunition for his proposal to move to Pomefiore

Next he reads your diary or journal if you have one

And he dives into your photos and makes a mental note to send more headshots to you

Next he goes to Rook

“We have less than 12 hours before I return, get your camera.”

Already planned and prepared the photos are perfection

Next he takes your measurements 

Both for clothes and for ropes and fluffy cuffs

He debates deleting your friends from your contacts

But he’s not petty he is he’ll just send a text or two with passive aggressive undertones

And when he’s got close to an hour 

He takes the time to…examine your every inch …careful to not leave a mess behind

“So…soft and round…they will look glorious in couture.”

Idia Shroud

“Eeek! It worked!”

Spends nearly an hour squealing and jumping around

But then he goes to the mirror and starts his fantasy 

Using your lips to confess an undying love to Idia Shroud 

He records it and everything 

Next he goes to his room, already set up to allow a very specific code

He goes to his dorm

Everything is going perfectly to plan

Next he plans to dress you in the cosplay he already has your measurements for

“Yes! Now I just have to take this o-o-off! Ack! T-their s-skin! No! I can’t e-e-even if I’ve s-seen it through the camra it is so different!”

He genuinely can’t make it past your shirt

Too embarrassed and caught up in simply seeing all your skin

So instead he’ll move onto the next objective

Going to the pick up spot he’d already designated

Riding calmly as your taken to some unknown artificial island 

“Hehehe well at least one objective was completed…let’s just say that other one isn’t one of my skill levels just yet. Hehehe I’ll have more than enough time to level up though!”

Malleus Draconia

Someone or you must have said that little expression

“Try walking in my shoes! Its really inconvenient when you scare everyone away from me!”

“In your shoes?”

So he tries it 

Having your body become his own, allowing a day without his, in your words: overpowered bod

Oh is he warm

So warm he feels like your constantly hugging him 

Its immaculate

Than he spends a good while just admiring you in the mirror 

More than happy to study every pore of your skin in great detail

“Oh I did not realize their birth mark was this adorable.”

But he’ll soon find your legs ache so easily

Why can’t he stand straight for seven hours without your knees getting wobbly

Or how defenseless you are 

With nothing but his tiny wisps if his own magic to sense 

Its kind of horrifying 

But as agreed he tries to go throughout the day as you 

Enjoying the attention of all your friends

Granted they send weird looks when he says something odd

But you’ve already employed Grim as ‘his wingman’

Who frantically tries to get him through the day

He learns so much ‘by being in your shoes’ 

“I do not appreciate everyone having such careless interactions with you, especially when the amount of muscle let alone magic is…concerning.”

[iid-smile]

★ — OUR MOVIE

멜로 영화! 주인공은 너야

흑백 영화! 속에 너만 빛나

content — higuruma hiromi x gn!reader, reader is a bit insecure, reader is referred to as pretty, i fear this may be really ooc

wc — 0.7k+

dec 5 ★ event masterlist — for the lovely @luv-lies !

your husband has always had some weird habits. unhealthy ones, should you say.

but one habit that you just couldn't put your finger on is how weird hiromi acts sometimes whenever you glance at him. there's no consistent pattern either, because it happens all the time.

the worst cases have been during dates. whenever you take a bite of your food at a restaurant, you catch a glimpse of his arms quickly raising up, and dropping down just as fast. whenever the two of you are roaming around, enjoying the night scenery, only for a split second do you see a bright flash. whenever you're dragging him from place to place, you hear a quiet click come from behind you.

it's stressful, because he refuses to elaborate, nor even acknowledge that this is happening. you're not crazy, but it's driving you crazy. you were determined to catch him red-handed.

it's late afternoon. luckily, hiromi had a day off today, aside from paperwork, so you both slept in for quite a bit. fortunately, it's never too late to enjoy some good food, made by yours truly.

the main dish was already in the oven, your shared favourite, and you were looking through the fridge and pantry, thinking of ingredients for side dishes. and then, you saw it. a flash, only for a split second, but it was a flash nevertheless.

right. this was it. you pretend you didn't notice a thing, fiddling around with pots and pans nearby as if you needed one. in the midst of your little act, he slips into his office room. bingo.

only after making sure the oven was off to avoid burning the house down do you creep after him, the patter of your footsteps being way too loud for your own liking. you didn't want to doubt him at all. you didn't want to doubt him, but why would he go out of his way to hide so much from you? on instinct, you raise your hand to knock, but quickly change your mind as you take a deep breath, pressing down on the door handle.

there he was, sat at his desk. surprisingly, the surface was not ridden with stacks of paperwork and files, but rather one singular photo album. he hasn't noticed your presence, hypnotised by whatever he was working on so intensely.

"hiromi?" your voice snaps him out of his daze. you were seeing something you were never meant to see in front of him; not until the end of the month. your gaze was a silent question that he knew all too well.

he leans back in his chair, as far as it can go, and his hands raise to rub over his face. soft mumbles of complaint leave his lips, and in his distress, his fingertips catch on his skin, stretching his eyelids until he decides to completely cover himself up again. "it was going to be your christmas gift..." he whispers.

"this...?" your eyes switch back over to the screen of his monitor, taking in the view of a collage your past self from only a few months ago. and another of you waist-deep inside of snow, smile so painfully bright. and another of you sleeping peacefully, moments before you spotted an unfamiliar camera on his bedside table. he's genuinely kept this up for an entire year? "why? i mean... why a video of pictures of just me?" the video has got to be over thirty minutes long.

a short silence cuts through the room, replaced by the disturbing sound of the heating system running through the house. "you told me last year that you didn't feel pretty, so i thought it would be a good idea if..." hesitation washes over him. but what does he have to hide now? the cat's already out of the bag. "if i showed you how pretty you truly are."

oh, he's said too much. a hand flies to push back your giggles, a rush of affection attacking your heart. buying an expensive gift is one thing, but to be so dedicated that it takes a year to complete is on a whole different level.

"please, don't laugh. i've been working on this for too long to stop. it was supposed to be secret."

your cheeks could hurt if you kept this grin up for too long. "don't worry, i'll act like i never saw a thing." you reassure, making a zipping gesture over your lips.

he seems to settle down, shoulders relaxing as the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly. "good." however, it's not long that he feels at ease.

"who would've thought my lawyer husband would become my personal photographer and editor?" you singsong as you spin towards the door, unusually happy over your little discovery.

[whisperofwonder]

Kageyama Tobio x reader - 700 words

I will never be over Kageyama's goofy smiles

The photographer is starting to get frustrated - you can tell. And Tobio? He's getting antsy, to say the least. This photo session is taking longer than you'd anticipated, and you know your new husband wants nothing more than to be rid of his tie, and to dive into the food at the reception. First, though, the photographer needs to get her shots in.

"Kageyama-san? I'm sorry," She pulls the camera away from her face again. "Maybe just, ah, relax," She suggests. If anything, you feel his shoulders tense more. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of the stiff, unnatural smile on his face, and you grimace. You know he's capable of a real, genuine smile. You've seen it countless times. It's just that, the moment a camera appears, his lips seem to forget how to work. At this rate, your wedding photos will be little short of a disaster. So much for the photo collage you'd envisioned in your living room.

You're just about to put the poor photographer out of her misery and call it quits when your new sister-in-law steps in. "Can I make a suggestion?" Miwa asks, moving forward from her spot behind the photographer. "Tobio," She takes her brother's arm, "Turn this way. There you go." She reaches for you next, gently turning you so that, rather than facing the photographer, you and Tobio are angled more toward each other. "There," She nods approvingly. "That should be much better."

"Just a few more," You say for Tobio's benefit, reaching to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Sorry," He murmurs, returning the squeeze as his lips turn up at the corners, the beginnings of an unforced smile. You smile back in encouragement, hoping to coax it out of him. It seems to work, because as he rests a hand at your waist to pull you closer, the smile has finally taken over his face. You vaguely register that the photographer is snapping one photo after another, and you're just glad to be making some progress. Soon enough, she's decided she has enough shots, and you can finally move on to the reception.

Weeks later, you're lying in bed waiting for Tobio to get out of the shower when you get the message from the photographer that your photos are ready. You eagerly open the album, excited to finally see the photos captured on your big day.

The photos of just the two of you come first. The photographer had definitely managed to get a few passable shots with the two of you facing the camera. Tobio's smile is a bit forced, but believable enough. As you keep scrolling, though, the difference is shocking.

In the photos taken after Miwa had turned you toward each other, something completely different had taken over his face. In one photo after another, your husband is looking at you with full, genuine adoration. His smile is wide and warm, his eyes soft. It hadn't occurred to you at the time, but the two of you really do look like you're in your own little world. You feel warmth curling through your middle all over again. These photos perfectly capture every emotion you'd felt on your wedding day.

"What are you smiling at?" You'd been so wrapped up in the photos that you hadn't heard Tobio emerge from the bathroom.

"Our wedding photos are done!" You announce, still tickled by how well they'd come out.

"Oh," He quickly crawls under the covers, "Let me see." He hangs his chin over your shoulder, and you gladly scroll back to the beginning to share them with him. He doesn't say much, but neither do you. You're just happy admiring the photos.

"They're perfect, aren't they?" You ask when you've finally reached the end.

"Yeah," He says softly, and when you turn he's already looking at you. That same smile is back on his face, soft and warm. You can't help but return it. "I love you," He adds, leaning in for a kiss.

"I love you too," You murmur as you pull away, savoring the expression on his face. You love all of his smiles, even the goofy pasted-on ones, but the smiles just for you will always be your favorite.

[sherewrytes]

𝐻𝒜𝒰𝒩𝒯𝐸𝒟, 𝐸𝓇𝑒𝓃 𝓍 𝐹 𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

I knew possessive Eren was gonna win, so i wrote this fic anyway.

Prologue

Eren leaned back in his chair, his office dimly lit by the glow of his monitor. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights stretched like stars beneath a dark sky, far away and insignificant. His focus was anchored on his screen, where a familiar face smiled back at him from a photo posted over a year ago.

She looked different then—bright-eyed and carefree, dressed casually in a photo with friends, her smile wide and genuine. It wasn’t a polished, professional smile like the one she wore in the office now. This was something real, a glimpse into a version of herself she didn’t show anyone here.

He shouldn’t have kept scrolling back, shouldn’t have let himself get sucked in so deeply. But here he was, poring over every post like he was unraveling a story, piecing together the parts of her life that she’d left public, unaware of who might be watching. Eren liked the challenge of putting it all together—the places she went, the friends she kept, the life that existed beyond the walls of their firm. A life he wasn’t part of. Yet.

His finger hovered over the screen, caught in a lapse of control. Before he could pull back, his thumb brushed the screen, tapping “like” on the year-old post.

He cursed under his breath. She would see that. The thought made him pause, fingers itching to undo the mistake. But instead, he left it.

Let her see, he thought, leaning back and savoring the unease that would flash across her face when she noticed. She’d wonder, worry, maybe even try to brush it off, but the seed would be planted. She’d know that he was watching.

It was time she understood that she was more than an employee to him, more than just another person on his team. The moment she’d stepped into his world, she’d taken root, lodged deep in his mind. And he couldn’t pull her free—not that he wanted to.

His phone buzzed on the desk, pulling his gaze away from her image on the screen. A message notification lit up: a reminder of tomorrow’s 9 a.m. meeting, one he’d called specifically so he could see her, watch her from across the room, close enough to reach out but far enough to stay undetected.

When he finally pushed back from his desk, the clock on the wall blinked past midnight, the entire building silent except for the quiet hum of his footsteps as he walked out.

Y/N POV

The office buzzed with a quiet, controlled energy, the low hum of phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and hushed conversations merging into a backdrop of everyday corporate life. You settled into your seat, rolling your shoulders to ease the tension of another early morning. The building’s sleek, minimalist design, with its glass walls and polished floors, was both impressive and stifling. It was the kind of place that demanded excellence, and you planned to give it—nothing less.

It was barely 8:45 a.m., and your coffee was still too hot to sip comfortably. Jean, your colleague and occasional work confidant, leaned over your desk with his usual easy grin. He was one of the few people who made this office feel less like a pressure cooker. Tall, casually charming, with an air of confidence that bordered on playful, Jean had a knack for putting people at ease.

“So, did you see the email last night?” he asked, giving you a look that said he already knew the answer.

“Which one?” you replied, raising a brow, already scrolling through your work emails. Your inbox had exploded with new project updates and memos, mostly sent late at night. It was typical of Eren Yeager, your intense and demanding superior, to send out tasks and reminders well after business hours. The man practically lived in his office, a constant presence that seemed to watch over everyone in the department.

“You know which one,” Jean smirked, lowering his voice. “The meeting. 9 a.m., Mr. Tall, Dark, and Intimidating himself presiding.”

“Oh, that.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Of course, I saw it. Just didn’t have the energy to respond at midnight like everyone else.”

Jean chuckled. “Guess you’ll have to turn on those notifications if you want to keep up with the boss’s schedule. He’s got eyes everywhere.”

You scoffed, waving him off. “I’ll pass. I already see enough of Eren in daylight hours.” You knew he wasn’t being entirely serious, but the idea of Eren’s influence lingering in your personal life struck a nerve you couldn’t quite place.

Settling into work mode, you reached for your phone to quickly open Instagram, stealing a few minutes to catch up on social media before the meeting. You rarely checked notifications right away—they were turned off for most apps during work hours and even out of work—but this morning, a little distraction felt necessary.

As the app loaded, you felt your stomach drop. There it was: a tiny heart notification in the corner of a photo from over a year ago. You recognized it instantly—an old post from a weekend trip with friends, long before you’d joined the company. And the name beside the heart? Eren Yeager.

You blinked, scrolling to confirm, a chill settling over you as you stared at the notification. There was no mistaking it. Your boss—the same man who rarely glanced up from his work, who gave off an air of rigid control and professionalism—had been scrolling through your posts in the middle of the night. Not just any post, either. A photo from a year ago, a carefree memory buried far down your timeline, one you’d forgotten about.

“What’s up?” Jean’s voice broke into your thoughts, his brows furrowing as he followed your gaze to the phone in your hand. He glanced over, a smile forming on his lips as he noted your wide-eyed expression. “Oh? Someone sliding into your DMs?”

You quickly flipped your phone screen down, shaking off the uncomfortable prickling feeling that lingered. “No, nothing like that. Just… weird notification, that’s all.”

Jean gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further. He was perceptive like that, often picking up on the things you left unsaid. You appreciated it more than you let on.

You tried to shake off the odd feeling and turned your attention back to your computer, but your mind kept drifting back to the notification. The way his name seemed to linger there, like a subtle, invasive reminder that he was watching, that he knew details of your life you’d never shared with anyone here.

Stop overthinking it, you told yourself. Maybe it was a mistake, an accidental like. But that didn’t explain why he’d been scrolling so far back. You rubbed your temples, trying to shake off the creeping feeling of unease.

9 A.M. Meeting

By the time you entered the conference room for the morning meeting, you’d managed to pull yourself together. Eren sat at the head of the table, his posture relaxed but commanding, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched each employee filter in and take their seats. His presence filled the room in a way that was hard to ignore, his gaze sharp, assessing, as if he were silently measuring the worth of everyone around him.

You slipped into your seat, feeling his eyes flicker over you for a brief moment. The memory of that notification resurfaced, making you hyper-aware of the way he seemed to watch you, a hint of something dark lurking beneath his otherwise composed exterior.

“All right, let’s begin,” Eren said, his voice a low, smooth cadence that carried authority effortlessly. His eyes scanned the room, resting on you for a moment longer than necessary before shifting to the agenda displayed on the screen. You kept your expression neutral, refusing to give him any indication that his subtle invasion of your privacy had affected you.

The meeting dragged on, a detailed breakdown of project deadlines, assignments, and expectations. You found yourself glancing up every now and then, catching Eren’s gaze lingering on you, an intensity there that made your skin prickle. He looked away each time, as if nothing had happened, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling that his interest wasn’t merely professional.

Toward the end of the meeting, he spoke up, addressing the room but directing his gaze toward Jean. “Jean, I’m moving you to the new department project starting next week. You’ll need to focus on that exclusively for the time being.”

Jean looked surprised, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “Oh—sure, that’s fine, but I was under the impression I’d be working with [Your Name] on the current project until the end of the quarter.”

Eren’s expression remained neutral, his voice calm and authoritative. “Things have changed. I need you on something more pressing. [Your Name] can handle the rest of the project on her own.”

You stiffened, shooting Jean a quick look of apology, but he simply gave you a reassuring nod. You’d grown accustomed to working closely with him, and his sudden reassignment felt… calculated. Eren’s actions were swift, almost surgical, like a move in a chess game, rearranging the pieces to his advantage. It made your stomach twist, a realization settling in: he wasn’t just assigning work. He was orchestrating the details of your environment, manipulating who you interacted with, controlling who had access to you.

The meeting concluded shortly afterward, and you gathered your notes, trying to avoid Eren’s gaze. But as you turned to leave, his voice stopped you.

“[Your Name], a moment?”

You froze, every nerve on edge. You glanced back, finding him standing at the head of the table, waiting for you as the rest of the team filed out. Jean shot you a supportive look before he left, mouthing a silent good luck as he exited.

You walked back to Eren, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries, his gaze fixed and unwavering.

“I wanted to discuss your progress on the project,” he said, his voice calm but holding an edge that set you on alert. “Are you prepared to handle it on your own?”

“Yes,” you replied, keeping your tone steady. “I’ve been on top of it.”

“Good.” He nodded, his gaze drifting over you with an intensity that felt almost predatory. “I don’t want any distractions taking your focus away. Especially… social ones.”

The insinuation in his words was undeniable. You met his gaze, refusing to look away, even as the weight of his stare made you feel exposed. He was waiting for a reaction, testing you, pushing boundaries that should’ve stayed firmly in place.

“Understood,” you replied coolly, refusing to let him see that his words affected you. “Is there anything else?”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, almost as if he were amused by your defiance. “No, that’s all… for now.”

As you left the conference room, you could feel his eyes on you, a dark promise lingering in his gaze. This was more than a mistake, more than a casual interest. You were part of something twisted now, something that felt like it was spiraling out of control. And somehow, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t stop until he’d claimed every part of you.

You walked back to your desk, heart racing, struggling to process the entire interaction. Eren’s stare, the way he’d pushed Jean out of the project, the invasive social media “like” that felt like a silent confession of his interest—it was all too much. You tried to shake it off, rationalizing his words as a reminder to stay focused, but a lingering unease settled in, something you couldn’t ignore.

Jean was waiting for you, leaning casually against your desk with an easy smile, though concern flickered in his eyes.

“Everything good?” he asked, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched you approach.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you replied, plastering on a smile as you settled in your chair. But your mind was elsewhere, still processing Eren’s intense gaze, the almost possessive tone he’d taken.

Jean didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “If you say so. Just say the word if you need backup. I know Yeager can be… a lot.”

You laughed lightly, though it was forced, glancing over your shoulder as you tried to shift gears and focus on your work. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of Eren watching, even though his door was closed. The memory of that year-old Instagram notification lingered, like an invisible mark he’d left on you.

Why would he scroll back that far? It was a question that had no easy answer, one that filled your mind with possibilities that sent a shiver down your spine.

Later That Evening

The workday wore on, but you couldn’t shake the weight of Eren’s presence from your mind. By the time you left the office, the sky was already dark, streetlights casting long shadows across the city. You walked quickly, glancing over your shoulder as you made your way to the train station, paranoid even though you knew it was irrational.

Arriving home, you set your things down, finally able to relax in the quiet comfort of your apartment. But as you changed into comfortable clothes and settled onto the couch, your phone buzzed with another notification. You glanced down, expecting a message from a friend or maybe Jean checking in—but the sight of Eren’s name on your screen made you freeze.

It was a message from his work account, the tone professional but terse.

Eren YeagerI need to see you in my office at 8 a.m. sharp tomorrow. Don’t be late.

The message was short, but it felt weighted, as if it held an unspoken promise of more. You stared at it, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure if you should respond. There was no polite sign-off, no explanation for the early morning meeting. It was an order, one that demanded obedience without question.

You locked your phone, deciding not to reply. The idea of being alone with him, especially so early in the morning when no one else would be around, sent a pulse of anxiety through you. But you had no choice. If you ignored his request, you’d risk his wrath—a risk you couldn’t afford in your current role.

Just get through tomorrow, you told yourself, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that settled over you.

The Next Morning

At 7:59 a.m., you found yourself standing outside Eren’s office door, heart pounding as you raised your hand to knock. The office was nearly deserted this early, the usual bustle absent in the dim, quiet corridors. You almost turned back, second-guessing yourself, but the door swung open before you could retreat.

“Come in,” Eren’s voice greeted you, smooth and calm.

You stepped inside, swallowing your nerves as you glanced around the room. His office was pristine, modern, and impersonal—just like him. The only hint of personality was the faint scent of expensive cologne that seemed to permeate the air, a reminder of how meticulously he controlled every aspect of his world.

He gestured for you to sit, watching you with a calm, unreadable expression as you took the chair across from his desk. You fought to keep your face neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you unnerved.

“I wanted to discuss your performance,” he began, his tone smooth but carrying a hint of something darker. “You’ve been doing well with the project, but I noticed that your focus has been… scattered lately.”

Your stomach tightened. Scattered? You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, caught between indignation and confusion. “I haven’t been distracted,” you replied, keeping your tone even.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he found your response amusing. “Haven’t you? Checking social media during work hours, lingering at your desk with Jean instead of focusing on your assignments… I’d call that distracted.”

You felt your face go hot, a mix of embarrassment and anger bubbling beneath your skin. He was referring to your harmless Instagram check yesterday, something you’d done quickly during a break. And as for Jean—well, you couldn’t control his friendliness. But the way Eren spoke, it was as if he’d taken note of every small action, every minor slip-up, and filed it away for moments like this.

“Is that really affecting my work?” you asked, keeping your voice calm even as your heart pounded in your chest. “I’ve met all the deadlines, and my reports have been on time.”

Eren leaned forward, his intense green eyes fixed on you, his voice lowering to a near-whisper. “This isn’t just about deadlines, [Your Name]. It’s about your dedication, your priorities.”

You felt his words wrap around you like a trap, as if he were challenging you to admit something you didn’t fully understand. His gaze was heavy, penetrating, and you realized with a sudden, unsettling clarity that he wasn’t talking about work at all.

His next words confirmed it.

“People get distracted,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly as he observed you. “They forget who’s really in charge. And they let others”—his eyes flashed with something dark—“interfere.”

The implication was clear. Eren wasn’t just monitoring your work; he was watching every interaction, every minor connection you made in the office. He wanted your attention, all of it, and he wasn’t afraid to bend the rules to make that happen.

A surge of defiance rose in you, a determination not to be cowed by his intimidation tactics. “With all due respect, Mr. Yeager, I think I’m managing just fine. My work speaks for itself.”

He leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed you, almost as if he were savoring the challenge. “If that’s how you feel,” he replied smoothly, “then I expect nothing less than your full focus moving forward. No distractions. No side conversations with… co-workers.”

Your stomach twisted. You could practically feel the weight of his control bearing down on you, subtle but suffocating. Eren’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he finally leaned back, dismissing you with a nod.

“That’s all for now. But I’ll be watching, [Your Name]. Make sure you don’t disappoint me.”

You stood, your legs stiff as you resisted the urge to throw a sharp retort back at him. Instead, you turned and walked to the door, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

But as you reached for the handle, he called out softly, “And remember… if you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me.”

You didn’t look back, didn’t dare acknowledge the unspoken meaning behind his words. But as you walked away, a shiver ran down your spine, the realization sinking in: Eren was watching, his presence an invisible shadow that lingered over every corner of your life.

And deep down, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to stop.

Chapter 2: Eren's POV

I watch her leave my office, her back straight, the calm facade she wears never quite matching the storm I know brews beneath the surface. She's good at hiding it. Too good. But I see through her. I always do.

I could’ve pushed harder, pressed her more. I could’ve let the tension between us grow, let her feel it, but I know the rules. I know how to play this game. I’m patient. I’ve been watching her for months now—studying every shift in her expression, every flicker of emotion that betrays her cool demeanor. She thinks I’m just another boss, another man she has to deal with to keep her job. She doesn’t see what I see.

She doesn’t understand that I own her. Not in a way she’d ever admit. Not yet. But it’s coming.

I’ve been in control of my life for so long, meticulously crafting every move, every interaction. But the moment I saw her, I knew I was losing that control.

That first day when she walked into the office, all poised and professional in her perfectly pressed blouse and skirt, looking completely out of place among the chaos of this company... I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She stood out, a beacon of grace in a sea of mundane. It wasn’t just her looks—though she’s breathtaking. It’s her aura, the way she moves, the way people gravitate to her without even trying. But what I couldn’t handle was how easily she laughed, how easily she made friends with everyone. Even Jean, that fucking rat. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any of them near her.

I hate the way she smiles at him. That warmth. I watch her in those moments, just a little too long. Jean doesn’t realize it, but every second she spends with him is a second closer to me losing my patience.

Her kindness? Her ability to make everyone feel like they’re worth something? It makes me sick. It makes me want to pull her closer, force her to realize that her place is with me, not with the rest of them. They don’t deserve her. No one does. Not like I do.

I’ve done everything I can to keep her focused on her work, keep her away from distractions. Jean? He’s been moved to another department. He’ll think it’s just for business reasons. He’ll never know the truth. I won’t let him have her. No one will.

I’d love to see how she reacts. I want to see her frustration when she can’t find that friendly face to laugh with during breaks, when Jean isn’t there to chat with her like some old friend. She doesn’t realize yet, but every little thing I do is part of the plan.

I’ve been following her on social media for a while now. It's not like I’m obsessed. No, it's just... research. I need to know what she’s doing, who she’s talking to, what interests her. I saw that post she shared from over a year ago. That’s when I liked it. A simple gesture, but I know she saw it. The notification. It was a crack in the door, a way to remind her that I see her, that I’m watching, even when she doesn’t realize it. She may act like she doesn’t care, like she’s unaffected, but I know the truth.

She noticed. I could see the way her fingers hesitated over the screen when she opened it, the way her eyes darted to the notification, the subtle way her lips pressed together, a sign of frustration or confusion. Good. She’s thinking about me now. I like that. I like knowing she’s aware of my presence, even when I’m not in the room.

And I’ll keep doing it. I’ll keep moving those pieces, reshaping the world around her until there’s nowhere left for her to go except into my arms.

She doesn’t realize how much she needs me yet. She doesn’t understand what I could give her, what I could offer, the security, the control. The way I’d take care of her—physically, mentally, emotionally. She would never have to worry about anything. She’d be mine. And I’d make sure she knew it.

But patience, I tell myself. One step at a time. For now, I’ll keep my distance, make sure she doesn’t feel smothered. I’ll play the game, act like everything is normal. But every conversation, every interaction, is a calculated move, a reminder to her that I’m always in her periphery. I don’t need to rush this.

I’ll keep her on her toes. I’ll keep her questioning herself. And in time, she’ll realize that the only person who truly knows her, who truly understands her, is me.

I can already feel it.

She’s mine.

For the past few weeks, I’ve found myself more drawn to her than I care to admit. Some might say I’m obsessive, that I’ve crossed a line in watching her every move. But they don’t understand. I’m not obsessed—I’m simply possessive of what’s mine. And she is mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.

I've kept my distance, careful not to scare her off, keeping up the mask of the professional, distant manager. But the more I watch her, the harder it becomes. I see her subtle shifts in expression, the way her shoulders tense whenever I enter a room, as if she can feel me. She can feel that magnetic pull too. She must.

Today, she finally came to me, probably driven by the carefully crafted breadcrumbs I’d left for her. I could see the determination on her face as she knocked and entered my office, closing the door behind her. She’s nervous—trying not to show it, but I can see the tension in her stance. She’s bracing herself, as if she’s come to confront me.

“Mr. Yeager,” she begins, her voice steady. “Can I ask you something?”

I lean back in my chair, giving her my full attention, my expression carefully neutral. “Of course,” I say smoothly, as if she has my undivided focus—which she does.

She clears her throat, looking down briefly before meeting my gaze again. “I… noticed something strange recently.” She hesitates, watching me closely, as if gauging my reaction. “You… liked an old photo on my Instagram. From over a year ago.”

There it is. The spark of curiosity, maybe even a little irritation, hidden beneath her calm facade. She’s trying to find a reason, some logical explanation, but she won’t find it.

I keep my expression mild, letting a small, almost dismissive smile tug at the corners of my mouth. “Oh? I didn’t realize. Must’ve been a slip of the finger,” I say lightly, shrugging as if it’s nothing. “I probably just scrolled too far.”

She narrows her eyes slightly, as if trying to see through my answer, to find the truth lurking beneath my calm mask. But I won’t give her that satisfaction. I keep my smile relaxed, as though it’s the most normal thing in the world.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, she speaks again, her voice softer, more hesitant.

“I see.” She shifts, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, it just… seemed strange. I mean, it was a really old photo.”

I tilt my head, giving her a curious look. “Are you worried about what I think of your social media, [Your Name]?” I ask, my tone just slightly teasing, enough to throw her off balance. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

The color rises in her cheeks, a sign that I’ve hit a nerve. I can see her frustration simmering beneath the surface. She probably didn’t expect me to brush it off so easily, to play it so nonchalantly.

“Anyway,” I say, shifting the topic before she can dwell on it too long, “are you seeing anyone?”

She blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. “What?”

“Just curious,” I reply, keeping my tone casual. “You seem close with some of the others here… I was wondering if you were dating anyone.”

Her lips press into a thin line, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Not that it’s any of your business, but… no.”

I already knew the answer. She’s kept to herself, no messy entanglements to interfere with the focus I want from her. I nod slowly, keeping my expression thoughtful, as if I’m filing away that precious piece of information.

“Well,” I say after a beat, looking back at her with a calm smile, “that’s good to know. Less distraction, right?”

Her eyes flash, a quick hint of irritation before she masks it, and I almost laugh. I wonder if she realizes what her reaction betrays, how her every movement, every flicker of emotion, only draws me closer.

She’s mine. Even if she doesn’t know it yet. And one way or another, she’ll come to understand just how deep that connection goes.

For now, I’ll give her space, let her think this was just a fleeting moment. But in time, she’ll see. She’ll see that every step she takes, every decision she makes, is already part of my plan. And when she finally realizes it, she’ll understand that she’s exactly where she belongs—by my side, where I can watch over her, where I can protect her.

And no one—not Jean, not anyone—will ever get close enough to take her from me.

Y/N's POV

I head back to my desk, still trying to shake off the strange feeling lingering from my conversation with Eren. The way he brushed off that whole Instagram thing… it didn’t sit right with me. And then he asked if I was dating anyone? Out of nowhere?

I sit down, take a deep breath, and open my phone, deciding to vent in my group chat. Mikasa, Annie, and Kaylah have been my rocks for as long as I can remember, and they always know how to put things in perspective.

Group Chat:

yn: Eren just asked me if I’m dating anyone…

kaylah: Your boss? 👀

kasa: Oh gurl, he tryna fuck 😏

annie: That’s her boss. 😑

kasa: And?? 👀 He’s still tryna get it.

kaylah: It’s not just “any boss,” though. It’s Eren. You’ve been saying he’s been acting weird for weeks, girl.

kasa: Exactly. That man is on some type of mission, and it sounds like it involves you.

annie: Are you comfortable with him asking questions like that?

I chew on my lip, reading through their messages. They all have a point. Eren has been acting strange, hovering a bit too close sometimes, watching me like he’s waiting for something. But Annie’s right, too. It’s not exactly normal for a boss to act this way, is it?

I hesitate for a second, wondering how much to say. Then I type back.

yn: Honestly? I don’t know how I feel about it. He’s always so… intense. But maybe it’s just me overthinking?

kaylah: Girl, that’s not “intense”; that’s creepy. 👀 Bosses don’t just stalk their employees’ social media.

annie: Exactly. And liking a photo from last year? There’s something else going on here.

kasa: Sounds like he’s trying to mark his territory. 😳 Bet he’s trying to make sure no one else thinks you’re single.

I let their words sink in, and suddenly, it’s like I’m seeing my interactions with Eren from a different angle. That “slip of the finger” excuse sounds a lot thinner now. And asking if I’m seeing anyone? Was that a simple question, or was he trying to figure out if he has any competition?

The back of my neck prickles.

I sigh, typing out the next message, feeling a little ridiculous but knowing my girls will understand. There’s more to this situation, and I need their take.

yn: Oh, and there’s something else… He moved Jean to a different department. Just… out of the blue. He said it was for a “long-term project” or something like that, but now Jean’s basically out of my life at work for the foreseeable future.

kaylah: Wait, what?! Isn’t Jean like… your work husband?

annie: Your “project”? Yeah, right. Who’s he trying to fool? 😒

kasa: Soooo he removes the guy you’re closest to, then asks if you’re single? That man’s trying to clear the field. 👀

kaylah: Sounds like he’s… territorial. He probably hated the idea of you and Jean hanging out all day.

yn: It just feels so over-the-top. Jean didn’t even get a say; one day he’s there, and then Eren just pulls him into his office, and boom, he’s off on some new assignment.

annie: If this isn’t a huge red flag, I don’t know what is.

kasa: Honestly, girl, I’d be careful. This man doesn’t sound like he knows how to handle boundaries. 😬

I lean back in my chair, their messages washing over me, making my skin prickle. I keep telling myself that maybe I’m imagining things, that he’s just an intense boss, but each detail lines up too neatly. Jean was always the one person I could talk to freely, the only guy in the office who made me feel safe—and now he’s gone.

My stomach twists as I hear Eren’s voice, sharp and commanding, slicing through the quiet of the office.

“[Your Name]!” His voice has an edge to it, and I jump, startled. When I glance over my shoulder, he’s standing right behind me, eyes dark and fixed on my phone screen. I can feel the tension radiating off him, and the realization slams into me—he saw everything.

“...My office. Now,” he says, each word clipped, his tone leaving no room for argument. My heart pounds as I quickly turn off my phone, shooting one last frantic message to the group.

yn: I think he saw everything. He just caught me on my phone—

I barely finish the sentence before shoving the phone back onto my desk. The vibration of new messages is already buzzing like crazy as I walk toward his office, each step slower than the last.

The entire office feels like it’s holding its breath, and I can sense my coworkers glancing my way, probably just as curious about what I did to earn Eren’s wrath. I swallow hard, focusing on keeping my expression neutral as I make my way to his office, heart pounding louder with every step.

As soon as I step through the door, Eren closes it firmly behind me, and the air in the room feels heavier. The calm facade he usually wears is gone, replaced by something sharper, something that borders on fury.

"Care to explain what’s so important on your phone, [Your Name]?”

“Mr. Yeager, with all due respect,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady, “my phone is my personal business.”

His expression hardens, his jaw clenching as he takes a step closer. “So discussing me is your personal business then?” he bites back, his voice low and challenging.

Without thinking, I snap back. “If you’re all up in it, then yes.”

The words are out before I can stop myself, and I’m immediately shocked that I actually said it. My heart slams against my ribs, and the tension between us is thick enough to cut with a knife. I should apologize, I know it, but something about the way he’s staring at me—like he’s both furious and intrigued—has me rooted to the spot.

He lets out a short, humorless laugh, his eyes narrowing. “Funny. Because I don’t recall giving you permission to turn me into office gossip.”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “Well, maybe if you didn’t act like everyone here’s a pawn in some twisted game, we wouldn’t have anything to talk about.”

His lips curve into a cold smile. “Oh, so you think this is a game, huh?” His voice is dangerously low, and he’s close enough now that I can feel his presence looming over me, his eyes piercing into mine. “Trust me, [Your Name], I don’t play games.”

My pulse quickens as he steps closer still, so close I can feel the warmth radiating from him. My instincts scream at me to back down, to apologize, but something inside me flares up instead, matching his intensity. I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to be the first to look away.

“If you’re so sure of that,” I say, my voice just as quiet, “then why are you so interested in what I’m doing on my phone? Seems pretty ‘game-like’ to me.”

For a moment, his face shifts, and I catch a flicker of something almost raw in his eyes—something possessive, unsettlingly intense. But then it’s gone, replaced by that cold, unreadable mask he always wears.

“Careful,” he says, his voice smooth as silk, though there’s a warning underneath it. “You don’t want to push me, [Your Name].”

“Or what?” I challenge, my heart racing, the words slipping out before I can stop myself.

Before I can process what’s happening, I feel his lips on mine, fierce and unyielding. The kiss is forceful, intense, sending a shock through my system. It’s soft, yet possessive, hot and somehow tender all at once—a confusing mix that leaves me breathless. I barely have time to react, my hands frozen at my sides, as if caught in a whirlwind of everything I should and shouldn’t feel.

Then, just as abruptly, he pulls back, his face hovering inches from mine, his gaze steady and dark as he studies me. He doesn’t look smug, nor does he look regretful. There’s something raw in his expression, something he’s barely containing.

“I love your eyes,” he murmurs, his voice rough but oddly soft. “They’re so brown and beautiful… just like I thought they’d be up close.”

I blink, still reeling, the intensity of his words sinking into my skin like embers, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. I open my mouth to respond, to say something that might make sense of the mess of feelings swirling inside me, but nothing comes out. All I can do is stare up at him, my mind racing with confusion, with anger, with something I can’t even name.

His hand lingers on my arm, and the weight of his touch is both grounding and electrifying. He’s close enough that I can see every shade of green in his eyes, every fleck of something darker that burns there, a kind of need that’s both alarming and magnetic.

“[Your Name]…” he says, voice barely above a whisper, as though my name is a secret he’s been keeping.

Eren’s voice is a low murmur, almost daring me as he leans in just a fraction closer.

“Ask me what you really want to ask me.”

His gaze holds mine, and the challenge in his eyes makes my breath hitch. He’s waiting, watching for some sign that I’ll back down—but instead, my pulse races with a new determination, my words tumbling out before I can second-guess them.

“Why did you really move Jean?” I ask, my voice steadier than I feel. “Was it because of… me?”

A flicker of satisfaction crosses his face, like he’s pleased I finally asked the question that’s been burning inside me. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t even blink as he responds.

“Jean was… a distraction,” he says, his voice low, each word deliberate. “You don’t need him taking up your time.”

My stomach flips, caught between disbelief and a strange, unnerving thrill at his bluntness. “So you’re saying you—moved him just to have me all to yourself?”

Eren’s mouth twitches in the faintest of smirks. “I don’t like sharing what’s mine,” he says, the possessiveness in his tone unmistakable. He brushes his thumb over the back of my hand, a gesture that’s both tender and unsettling. “And whether you know it or not, you’re mine, [Your Name].”

The air thickens between us, charged with tension and something darker that I don’t dare name.

“Yours?” I say, my voice wavering between disbelief and defiance. “You don’t even know me, Eren.”

A glint of amusement flashes in his eyes, but there’s something else there, something darker and more intense as he steps even closer. His gaze traces my face, studying me like he’s memorizing every detail.

“Don’t know you?” he murmurs, a faint smirk curving his lips. “I know you better than you think, [Your Name].”

My heart skips a beat as he begins listing things—little details I hadn’t even realized he’d noticed.

“You prefer coffee black on Mondays but switch to a caramel macchiato on Fridays. Your favorite color is emerald green. You call out sick on the third Thursday of every month to go to your hairdresser and then your lash girl.” His smirk deepens, his voice softening, almost proud. “Which is why I always approve your requests for those particular days off and pay you for the extra time. I figured I’d make it easier for you, since I know you’d never ask.”

I stare at him, speechless. It’s unsettling—no, terrifying—how much he knows. I’d thought it was a coincidence, a stroke of luck, that my days off lined up perfectly with my appointments. Now I’m realizing it was anything but. He orchestrated all of it. Eren didn’t just notice these things—he’s been planning around them, bending my schedule to fit into the life he believes he controls.

“You… you really did all that?” I whisper, unable to hide the shock in my voice.

“Of course I did,” he replies, his tone calm, as if this all makes perfect sense. “I told you, [Your Name]. I don’t like sharing. And I don’t like the idea of you needing anyone else but me.”

The possessive gleam in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine.

Eren’s gaze never leaves mine as he continues, his tone low and smooth, yet laced with a quiet intensity that unsettles me.

“You think I don’t notice the way you bite your lip when you’re nervous? Or how you twist your pen when you’re lost in thought?” His eyes roam over my face, lingering on my lips before meeting my gaze again. “I notice everything, [Your Name]. Every single thing about you. It’s only fair, given how much of my time you take up.”

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. Eren’s gaze is so intense, it’s as if he can see right through me, through every facade I’ve ever put up. He steps forward, closing the last of the distance between us until he’s just inches away, and I can feel the warmth of him, the weight of his attention, like gravity pulling me in.

“You can deny it all you want,” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper, “but deep down, you’ve always known. You felt it, too. This connection.”

My heart races as his words sink in, leaving me both shocked and disarmed. Part of me wants to deny it, to push him away, but another part, the part that feels his touch lingering long after he’s gone, knows there’s some twisted truth in his words. Eren’s confidence, his calculated planning, his unwavering focus—it’s both overwhelming and alluring, a dangerous thrill I can’t seem to shake.

He tilts his head, his voice dropping even lower. “You keep looking at me like I’m the one crossing the line, but maybe you should ask yourself why you keep letting me.”

Eren’s eyes narrow, his voice a quiet, unyielding demand. “Now, ask me what you really want to ask me.”

His words send a shiver down my spine. There’s an invitation in his tone, a challenge in his stare that dares me to voice the questions that have haunted me since he first stepped into my life. My heart pounds, and I feel my pulse throb as I stare up at him, trying to decide if I should say the words out loud.

I swallow hard, my voice barely above a whisper as I finally ask, “Why… why me, Eren? Why do you go out of your way to control every part of my life?”

A slow smile spreads across his face, but there’s no warmth in it. Just a chilling certainty, as if he’s been waiting for me to ask this all along.

“Because, [Your Name],” he says, his voice dripping with that familiar possessiveness, “the second I saw you, I knew I’d never want anyone else.” He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in. “And I don’t like the idea of anything or anyone else having you, even in the smallest way. Every detail of your life is mine to know, mine to control. Because whether you realize it or not, you’re already mine.”

The intensity in his eyes is overwhelming, and I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, a part of me terrified of him, yet drawn to the way he looks at me with that all-consuming need.

“So don’t fight it,” he murmurs, his fingers grazing my cheek, lingering for a moment. “Just accept it.”

“This is too much,” I say, my voice shaking as I try to pull away, desperate to put space between us. My hands move instinctively to push against his chest, but before I can make any real distance, Eren’s grip tightens around my wrist, pulling me back toward him with surprising force.

I stumble, barely catching myself as I’m drawn back into his presence, and before I can even react, his hand grazes the side of my jaw, his fingers cool against the heated skin of my cheek. The sensation is dizzying, my body reacting before my mind can catch up. He holds me there for a moment, just enough for his thumb to trace the curve of my jawline, sending a chill down my spine.

Then, without a word, he grips the back of my neck, his touch possessive and commanding as he yanks me closer to him. My breath catches in my throat, and I find myself trapped between the heat of his body and the pressure of his touch, unable to escape even if I wanted to.

“I’m going to kiss you again,” he murmurs, his voice low, controlled, but with an undercurrent of something darker. “You can tell me no now, or you can let it happen.”

My heart slams in my chest as I feel the heat of his breath on my lips, the tension so thick that it almost feels suffocating. A part of me wants to pull away, to run from the intensity of this moment, but another part—one that scares me—wants to stay, to see where this overwhelming pull will lead.

Eren’s eyes lock onto mine, dark and unwavering, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. His grip on my neck tightens just enough to remind me that I’m in his control, that I have no escape if he doesn’t want me to have one.

“What’s it going to be, [Your Name]?” he whispers, the question more of a command than an invitation.

"Eren… I—" I start, but before I can even finish the sentence, he cuts me off, his words sharp and commanding.

"Wrong answer."

His lips crash onto mine, and the force of it takes my breath away. His kiss is demanding, fierce, as if he’s claiming me in a way I can’t escape. It’s overwhelming, and my body betrays me, sinking into the kiss, my hands finding their way to his shoulders, grasping at him for balance. I can feel the heat rising between us, every inch of him pressing against me in a way that makes my heart race and my mind spin.

I can’t think, can’t form coherent thoughts, because all I can feel is the overwhelming pressure of him, his touch, the way his mouth moves against mine like he’s determined to break through every wall I’ve ever built.

And then, without warning, I feel him bite down on my bottom lip, pulling it gently with a smirk that tells me he’s enjoying this—enjoying the control, the way I’m losing myself to him.

The sensation stings, and I gasp, but he doesn’t give me a chance to react. His lips return to mine, more insistent, deeper, as if he’s trying to mark me, to claim me, until I’m not sure where I begin and where he ends. His hands slide to my waist, gripping me tightly as if he’s worried I might slip away, as if he’s afraid that one kiss won’t be enough.

It isn’t enough. It never will be. I feel myself craving more, my body pulling him closer, as if I’ve been waiting for this, for him, all along.

The realization hits me like a wave, and I almost want to pull back, to snap myself out of the haze he’s wrapped me in. But instead, I stay, letting myself sink further into the kiss, into him.

Eren pulls back slightly, his breath heavy against my lips. His eyes search mine, dark and intense, filled with something I can’t quite place.

“I told you, [Your Name],” he whispers, his voice low and almost satisfied, “you’re mine.”

As I make my way back to my desk, my mind is still spinning, heart racing with the lingering heat of Eren’s kiss. My body feels like it’s moving on autopilot as I sit down, glancing at my phone. I open the group chat with Mikasa, Annie, and Kaylah, my thumb hovering over the screen as I prepare to update them. The last message I sent was, I think he saw everything. He just caught me on my phone.

The messages from my friends are already waiting for me:

Kaylah: Girl, what the hell? He saw EVERYTHING?

Mikasa: Oh no, not this again. What’s going on?

Annie: No way. You need to be careful, Y/N. I’m not liking this.

I quickly type out my reply, still feeling the weight of Eren’s presence hanging over me, almost like he’s watching me through the screen.

Y/N: He pulled me into his office. I… I didn’t expect it, but he kissed me. Forcefully. He told me I’m "his" and that I should stop pretending I don’t know it. Then he made me come back to my desk to tell you all this.

I feel a rush of emotions as I hit send. Part of me wants to keep this to myself, to pretend it didn’t happen, but I know they deserve to know what’s going on, especially since it’s clear Eren’s intentions go far beyond just the office.

The chat explodes almost immediately:

Kaylah: Bitch, WHAT?! You just got kissed by your boss?? Omg, no, this is insane.

Mikasa: He pulled you into his office? Girl, this is so messy. You gotta be careful. This feels like a power move.

Annie: He’s crossing boundaries. I don’t care how much "power" he has—this isn’t okay. You need to set some limits, Y/N.

I feel a mix of emotions—fear, confusion, and something else I don’t want to acknowledge. I glance at the time, realizing I’ve been gone for longer than expected. Eren’s words echo in my mind, “You’re dismissed now.” The finality in his voice leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Y/N: I don’t even know how to handle this. I just feel… stuck.

Before I can read the responses, I hear Eren’s voice in the distance, calling out to someone else in the office. The sound of his voice makes my pulse spike again. His control over everything is suffocating, and I don’t know what to do next.

The messages from my friends continue, but my mind is already elsewhere, replaying every moment in his office, trying to make sense of everything he said and did.

Kaylah: Babe, you need to lay down some ground rules.

Mikasa: He’s not going to stop unless you make him.

Annie: You’ve got this. You’re stronger than you think. Don’t let him manipulate you.

I stare at my phone, still in a daze from the events of the day. My fingers hover over the screen as I type my response, unsure of what I’m feeling.

Y/N: What if… what if I liked it? Well… shit. I don’t even know anymore. Maybe I should just move departments.

Before I can think it through any further, my phone buzzes again. I see a new notification from the group chat—Mikasa’s added two new members. I blink at the names: Onyankopon and Armin.

Onyankopon: Kasa, you add me to the wrong group or sum?

Armin: Why we in your girl group?

Mikasa: Y’all now know Eren. He’s acting crazy.

I let out a frustrated sigh, rolling my eyes as I quickly type the rundown of what happened in the office. It feels so surreal, like I’m recounting someone else’s life. But it’s mine, and it’s hard to ignore how Eren’s presence looms over me, even through the screen.

Y/N: Okay, here it is. Eren pulled me into his office, kissed me, told me I was “his,” and that I should stop pretending like I don’t know it. He’s acting all possessive and… weird. I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe I should just switch departments or something.

I hit send and brace myself for whatever they’ll say. It doesn’t take long for the messages to flood in.

Armin: eye roll emoji* Is this Y/N LN, or am I missing something?*

I read the message twice before I realize he’s talking about me. It’s not a surprise, but it hits a little differently now, seeing it written out like that.

Then, Armin sends a series of screenshots. I glance over them, and my stomach drops.

Armin’s screenshot: Eren: "Bro, I kissed her. I swear, I went too far. I’ve been watching her since she started working here. I think I’m losing it."

I stare at the words for a long moment, my breath catching in my throat. I’d been so caught up in my own confusion that I hadn’t even realized how much Eren had been planning, how deep his obsession with me went. And the fact that Armin had these messages, these private thoughts of Eren’s, just adds another layer of unease.

Onyankopon: LMAO, Mikasa. So this is Y/N LN? Oh shit, this is funny as fuck.

I feel a sinking feeling in my chest as I read his message. It’s like everyone can see it, but me—how out of control Eren is. I can’t stop myself from feeling… exposed.

Onyankopon: Armin, we gotta tell Connie about this. This is crazy.

I feel my stomach twist at their reactions, the way they laugh it off as if it’s some kind of joke. But it isn’t a joke. It’s my life, and I’m caught in the middle of this twisted game Eren’s playing.

Y/N: This isn’t funny, guys. Eren’s fucking with my head. He’s crossing lines I never thought he would.

But even as I send the message, a small part of me wonders if I’m being too dramatic. If maybe I do like the attention. It’s hard to tell, especially with all the confusion in my head. Maybe I’m overthinking it.

Mikasa: You’re not overreacting. This isn’t normal. But I don’t think moving departments is the answer. Eren’s not just going to let you go that easily.

I stare at Mikasa’s response, my thumb hovering over the screen. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Armin: I’ll talk to him. Eren isn’t... okay, let me not lie... anyway, Ony, if you’re free, we gonna have to go pay Eren a visit at work.

As I read Armin’s message, a strange feeling begins to twist inside me. The fact that he’s offering to talk to Eren is both comforting and terrifying. I can’t deny that I feel a little bit of relief knowing that someone might stand up for me, but it also doesn’t sit right with me that Eren needs a “talking to” in the first place.

 can’t help but shake my head, a nervous laugh slipping past my lips. I’m not sure what’s scarier—the fact that Armin’s taking it so lightly or that I feel like I’m somehow becoming the center of their attention. It’s one thing for Eren to be possessive, but now it seems like everyone is getting involved.

Onyankopon: IDK, y’all want me in white folk business?

My eyes widen as I read Ony’s message, unsure if I should laugh or be annoyed. He’s right, though—it’s pretty ridiculous. But before I can say anything, Kaylah’s message pops up in the chat, and it’s clear she’s already found the humor in the situation.

Kaylah: LMAO! Y/N ain’t white, bro.

Ony’s response comes so quickly, I can almost hear the sarcasm in his voice. I laugh a little despite myself, because it’s true—Eren’s behavior does feel a little… out of place. Like he doesn’t know how to handle someone like me.

Onyankopon: I know, that’s why Eren tweaking. He ain’t ever locked a baddie before. Lame-ass white boy.

The chat explodes with laughter, and I can’t help but chuckle as well, even though I’m still dealing with the weight of everything that just happened. Ony’s comment, as ridiculous as it is, actually makes me feel a little better. The absurdity of the whole situation is almost laughable.

Mikasa: Y’all wild, but for real, Y/N, you need to stay strong. Don’t let this get to you.

Kaylah: For real, don’t let his crazy ass try to claim you. That’s your work life, and you need to protect that shit.

I read their messages, my mind swirling. Their support means everything, but I still don’t know what to do. The fact that Armin’s going to “talk to” Eren doesn’t feel like enough. I can’t just sit around and wait for him to fix things. Eren’s power is too much, too overwhelming.

Y/N: I don’t even know how to fix this. I feel trapped, like he’s watching me all the time now. Everything’s so messed up.

I leave the message on read for a while, my thoughts drifting back to Eren. To his kiss. To the way he said I was “his.” It’s a bitter reminder that maybe things have gone too far already.

at the same time  

Eren’s hands are shaking as he types into his own group chat, his mind racing from everything that happened earlier. He can’t get her out of his head—Y/N, with her eyes so full of confusion, and the way she didn’t pull away from him when he kissed her, even though she probably should’ve.

Eren: Guys, I fucked up.

He watches the messages pop up one by one, his anxiety bubbling with every new response.

Armin: Jail time or a murder case?

Connie: Please tell me this ain’t about who I think it is.

Ony: Sure this is about Y/N again, bro? She ain’t want your white ass.

Reiner: Eren, what did you do... this time?

He slams his fist against the table, frustrated. He doesn’t have the words to explain it, but his thoughts keep racing back to her—her soft lips, the way she melted into him for just a moment before reality hit. He didn’t want to go that far, but when he kissed her, everything felt... right. It felt like it had to happen, like he needed her.

Eren: It’s Y/N. I kissed her. And I know, I know I fucked up, but it was just... it was too much. She doesn’t get it, man. She doesn’t see me the way I see her.

Armin: Oh boy, here we go. What exactly do you mean by ‘too much’?

Connie: Bro, what the hell are you doing? Did you force her?

Ony: I told you, man. She’s not your typical type. You can’t just make her fall in line like you want. She don’t need your controlling ass. You’re out here acting like you own her.

Eren clenches his jaw, his fingers gripping the edge of the table until it creaks.

Eren: I didn’t force her. But damn it, I don’t know... it’s like she’s got something in her that draws me in. She’s the only one who makes me feel like I’m more than this job, this life. She makes me want things I’ve never wanted before. And now she’s got me thinking, shit, I don’t know if I can stop. I’m not letting anyone else get close to her.

Reiner: That’s some dangerous shit, Eren. You’re letting your emotions run wild, and you’re gonna fuck up your entire career over her.

Armin: Man, you already fucked up. But at least you’re being honest about it now. You know you can’t keep this up. You need to step back before you lose it all.

Connie: I swear to God, Eren, if you don’t pull yourself together, you’re gonna make it worse. You need to stop acting like she’s yours. She doesn’t owe you anything.

Eren feels the weight of their words, but they don’t hit him the way they should. He knows what he’s doing is dangerous, but he can’t help the way he feels. Y/N’s on his mind every second of the day, and he’s not ready to just walk away.

Eren: I can’t stop. I won’t. She doesn’t get it yet, but she will. She’s mine, and I’m not letting anyone else near her.

Ony: Bro, you’re wilding. She’s not some fucking trophy to claim. If you keep this up, she’ll be gone faster than you can blink.

Reiner: Eren... you gotta rethink this. You’re walking a thin line.

Eren sits back in his chair, his chest tight as the words sink in. But even with everything they say, there’s only one thing on his mind—Y/N. No one else. And no matter how messed up it is, he’s not ready to let go.

Eren: I’m not letting her go. Not now. Not ever.

Ony: Well, Armin, good thing you're a lawyer. You gonna have to plead his case when Y/N drops charges on him.

Eren’s eyes widen at the thought, panic creeping up his spine. His fingers hover over his phone, unable to stop the flood of thoughts racing through his mind.

Eren: Fuck! Will she do something like that?

Ony: LMAO, bro, look at yourself. One whiff of cocoa butter and you're acting mad.

Reiner: Bro, you really out here trippin' over some lotion?

Eren's face flushes with frustration. He’s not even thinking about the damn lotion. It’s about her. He can’t stop thinking about how soft she felt against him, how her skin smelled, how her lips tasted.

Eren: It's actually shea butter and lavender, not cocoa butter.

The group goes silent for a moment, and then the floodgates open.

Ony: Bro, WTF?

Armin: Wait, what? You’re obsessed with her scent now?

Reiner: Eren, you out here getting fetishy with lotions?

Eren growls under his breath, running a hand through his hair, trying to stay composed. But every word they type is making the pit in his stomach grow deeper. He wanted this—her—so badly, but now he’s in too deep, and they’re all calling him out for it.

Eren: I smelled it when I kissed her. Man, da fuck?

The silence in the chat is almost unbearable before it’s broken by a series of laughing emojis.

Ony: Bro, you a different type of crazy. I can’t even deal with this. You out here stalking this girl’s scent like you’re some kind of detective.

Armin: Yo, you need a therapist. This is borderline obsession.

Reiner: Damn, man. You really need to chill. She ain’t even looking at you like that.

Eren’s chest tightens at their words. He knows what they’re saying is true. He’s spiraling. He’s obsessed. But the way Y/N made him feel when she was close to him… that—he can’t shake that feeling. He wants her. Needs her. And he can’t let anyone take her from him.

Eren: She’s mine. I’m telling you, I won’t let anyone near her.

The group’s response is quick and harsh.

Ony: Bruh. You really need to stop.

Armin: If you don’t back off, you’re gonna ruin everything, Eren. You gotta calm down.

Reiner: You’re gonna scare her off if you keep acting like this. Just back off a little.

But Eren just stares at the screen, his finger hovering over the keyboard. He wants to prove them wrong, to show them that he can handle this. But deep down, he knows they’re right. His obsession with Y/N is unhealthy.

He types one last message.

Eren: I can’t stop. I won’t stop. She’s mine.

Armin: Bro, you're scaring her.

Eren’s chest tightens, the words hitting harder than he expected. He’s not sure how to react, his thoughts a mess of frustration and possessiveness.

Eren: How the fuck do you know?

Ony: Cause Mikasa added me and Armin to their group chat.

The weight of Ony’s words doesn’t quite hit him at first. The realization that Mikasa and the others are talking about him—about this—makes his stomach turn. His grip on his phone tightens, and he types with clenched fists.

Connie: Damn and I ain't get no invite lol.

Reiner: Connie, focus.

Eren doesn’t respond to Connie, but his mind races. If they’re talking about him in her group chat, if Mikasa and the others know what’s going on… that means Y/N knows too. And that thought alone sends a chill through him.

He wants to control everything, to make sure Y/N never slips out of his grasp, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes just how dangerous this is. His thoughts swirl between possessiveness, fear, and that nagging sense of guilt that won’t go away.

Eren: It’s not like that. I didn’t mean to scare her. I just… I just can’t stand the thought of anyone else having her.

Armin: Bro, you're not thinking straight. You need to give her space. You can’t keep acting like this.

Ony: If you really want her, you’re gonna have to play it cool. She’s not gonna stick around if you keep acting crazy.

Connie: Yeah, bro. I get it. She’s fine, she’s beautiful, but you gotta chill out before you push her away.

Eren stares at the screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He’s not used to this feeling, this vulnerability. He’s used to getting what he wants, but with Y/N… it’s different.

Eren: I can’t stop. I don’t want to lose her.

Armin: Then don’t fuck this up, man. You’re already on thin ice. If you push her too hard, she’ll leave. You gotta play it slow.

Reiner: Yeah, just relax. Don’t make it worse.

Eren leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. They’re right. He knows it. But it doesn’t make it any easier.

He types one last message, his mind clouded with frustration and desire.

Eren: I’ll figure it out. But she’s mine.

Eren sits at his desk, his fingers drumming the surface as his friends settle in around him. Ony leans back in the chair across from him, feet propped up on the desk like it’s his own office, while Armin and Reiner sit on the side, making themselves comfortable. The vibe is casual, but Eren can feel the pressure mounting as his thoughts keep returning to Y/N. He’s trying to relax, to not seem too “crazy” in front of his friends, but the tension is there, simmering under the surface.

The door opens, and in walks Y/N, papers in hand. She looks focused, her heels clicking against the floor as she approaches Eren’s desk. She doesn’t immediately acknowledge the guys, but her eyes briefly flicker to them as she places the papers in front of Eren.

Y/N: Here’s the paperwork you asked for.

Eren glances up at her, his heart pounding, his mind racing with the thoughts of what had transpired earlier. He’s trying to play it cool—trying to keep his composure with his friends here. But then, he notices the way Y/N’s presence seems to make the air in the room shift. It’s electric, and he knows it.

Eren: Thanks for this, Y/N. You’re a life-saver.

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he decides to make the introduction, all too aware of the tension in the room.

Eren: Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my friends—Ony, Armin, and Reiner.

Y/N offers a polite but brief smile, nodding toward them as she quickly scans the room. The last thing she expects is to find herself in Eren’s office with his friends lounging around.

Y/N: Nice to meet you all.

Eren, for the briefest moment, feels a flicker of unease—like a possessive fire just beneath the surface—but he shakes it off and turns his attention back to Y/N. That’s when she lets something slip that makes him freeze for a moment.

Y/N: By the way, I saw you moved Jean to a different department. Couldn’t help but notice.

Eren’s heart skips, but he stays composed, offering a faint smile as his friends glance at him. He doesn’t want to act like a jealous lunatic in front of them. He clears his throat, focusing back on Y/N.

Eren: I’m sorry about that. I thought it was necessary for the project’s success.

He gestures to the papers she handed him, trying to shift the focus away from his internal frustration.

Eren: Thanks for the paperwork, though. You’ve been doing great. Actually, take the rest of the day off. Consider it a reward.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, not fully buying into his offer. Her arms cross as she stands in front of his desk.

Y/N: I’m fine, Eren. I don’t need the time off. I can finish up the rest of the work.

Eren leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly, trying not to let the tension in his voice show. His tone becomes slightly sharper.

Eren: Y/N, you’re making a spectacle of yourself. You’ve been running around nonstop lately.

Y/N scoffs, clearly not taking too kindly to his suggestion. She looks at him with an unimpressed stare, her lips curling slightly in disdain.

Y/N: I’m fine. I’m not some fragile thing that needs coddling, Eren.

Eren smirks, an arrogant edge to his smile as he leans forward in his chair.

Eren: You’re not fragile? Maybe, but you're definitely testing my patience.

Y/N’s eyes flash with something fierce, her gaze narrowing. She leans in slightly, her fingers twitching as if she’s about to snap at him. Then, in one swift motion, she raises her hand, as though she’s going to slap him across the face.

The tension in the room thickens. Ony and the others watch, intrigued by the standoff. Eren doesn’t flinch, his smirk growing wider, his gaze locked on hers.

Eren: Be my guest, Y/N. Go ahead. Show me what you got.

For a split second, Y/N hesitates, her hand still hovering in the air, poised to strike. Her chest rises and falls with each breath as her eyes flicker between his confident expression and the space between them. The moment stretches on, heavy with anticipation.

But then, something shifts. The fire in her eyes dims, and she lowers her hand slowly, almost reluctantly. Eren watches her, his expression unreadable, but there’s a satisfaction in his eyes that only he understands.

Eren: You’re stronger than I thought, Y/N. I respect that.

Y/N scoffs again, turning on her heel to leave, but not before shooting one last look at him.

Y/N: You’re impossible, Eren.

As she walks out, her exit leaves the room strangely quiet. Ony, Armin, and Reiner exchange looks but don’t speak a word. The energy in the room has shifted once again—this time, it’s palpable. Eren can feel it, the shift between them, the growing tension, the silent understanding that this dynamic is far from over.

He leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he watches her go. His mind races. There’s something about her—something he can’t get out of his head.

And he knows, deep down, that he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

Armin sighs dramatically, leaning back in his chair as he watches Y/N’s retreating figure through the office door. He shakes his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

Armin: I’m definitely gonna end up being your lawyer when she sues you, Eren.

Reiner laughs, shaking his head at the situation, the tension in the room still lingering from the encounter.

Reiner: Man, I’m not even gonna lie... you’re making this harder than it has to be. He pauses, glancing at Eren. Just ask her out for God’s sake. What are you waiting for?

Eren stays silent for a moment, letting their words settle. The thought of it is... strange. Sure, he’s had plenty of women—flings, casual affairs—but this? This was different. The intensity of it all, the pull he felt whenever she was near, it was something he couldn’t ignore.

But then, his mind drifts back to the kiss, the way she’d reacted. It was like she wanted to fight him, but also... something else. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

Eren: It’s not that simple.

Ony, who had been quiet until now, raises an eyebrow. He lounges back in his seat with a grin that suggests he’s been amused by the whole situation.

Ony: Bro, it’s never that simple with you, huh? Just admit you want her, stop overthinking it. I’ve been hearing you complain about this girl for weeks, and now you're playing dumb?

Eren clenches his jaw, not wanting to admit that Ony’s right.

Eren: It’s complicated. She doesn’t even... He trails off, the words coming out in frustration. She doesn’t know what she wants.

Armin and Reiner exchange knowing looks. They’d seen Eren go through this type of internal battle before. He could be aggressive, possessive—he was always the one to go after what he wanted, but when it came to Y/N... something about her made him second-guess himself.

Armin: Man, you think she doesn’t know what she wants? She knows. She just doesn’t want to be controlled by you. Maybe try showing her you’re not just some... I don’t know, crazy possessive boss for once.

Eren rubs the back of his neck, visibly frustrated.

Eren: I’m not crazy.

Reiner chuckles.

Reiner: Oh, you’re definitely crazy. But it’s not the crazy we’re worried about. It’s the possessive part. If you keep pushing her like this, she’s gonna run, Eren.

The words hit hard, but he knows they’re true. Every second he spent obsessing over her, every action he took to control her, was pushing her farther away.

Eren doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze now fixed on the papers Y/N had left on his desk. He still has her scent lingering in his memory—the sharpness of her perfume, the warmth of her skin from their brief touch.

Ony: Bro, we need to just go out for drinks tonight. You need to clear your head before you go off the rails with her.

Eren finally looks up, meeting Ony’s eyes, then Reiner’s, then Armin’s. His mind is still racing with thoughts of Y/N—her scent, her attitude, the challenge she presents. He could feel his patience fraying, but there was something else gnawing at him. Something deeper.

Eren: Fine. Drinks. But we’re not done with this.

His friends nod, understanding the weight of what he meant. As much as they tried to talk sense into him, they knew Eren would do what he always did. He’d chase after what he wanted, no matter how messy it got.

Eren leans back in his chair, still staring at the door Y/N had left through. He knew it wouldn’t be long before she was back in front of him. And when she did, he wouldn’t let her walk away so easily.

Later, the guys meet up for drinks, but Eren can’t shake the image of Y/N out of his head. The way she stood up to him, her confidence, her defiance—it was all too intoxicating. He couldn’t let it go.

Ony watches him, a smirk playing at his lips.

Ony: You know, man, I’m starting to think you’ve already decided what you’re gonna do next. Stop pretending like you don’t know what you want.

Eren just grins, taking another sip of his drink.

Eren: I’m not pretending. I’m just waiting for the right moment.

Ony turned to Connie, his eyes gleaming with mischief, his grin wide as he leaned in to make a bold wager.

Ony: I'll bet you 50K she sues him.

Connie raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he crossed his arms.

Connie: Nah, she’s gonna end up fucking him and leaving his ass.

Reiner, who had been quietly sipping his drink, couldn’t help but join in.

Reiner: Lol, facts. Eren can’t handle all that. He acts like he’s built bad, but we all know he’s a mess when it comes to her.

Ony burst out laughing, practically cackling with amusement.

Ony: Bro, no lies detected! I mean, just look at him! Can’t even control himself around her.

Eren remained silent through all of this, the teasing growing louder, but he didn’t flinch. His thoughts were miles away, still replaying the events from earlier in the day. The kiss. Her defiance. Her eyes staring back at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking, and it drove him crazy.

He finally broke his silence, his voice cutting through the laughter.

Eren: Are you guys done?

Ony grinned wider, clearly not done yet.

Ony: Nah, man, I’m serious. She’s definitely gonna sue you. At this rate, you’re gonna end up in court with a restraining order on your ass.

Eren scowled, his jaw tightening. He knew they were right, in a way. The way he’d pushed her, the way his obsession had been growing—it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t healthy. But that didn’t stop him from wanting more.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting the moment. It was a message from Y/N. His heart skipped a beat. He quickly pulled it out, unlocking it and reading her message.

Y/N: I’m still thinking about the kiss. I don’t know what the hell just happened, but I’m not the kind of girl who gets pushed around like that. You’ll hear from me soon.

Eren stared at the message, the words sinking in. A mix of guilt and desire swirled inside him, but his stomach tightened. He was used to getting what he wanted, but with her? He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Eren: Shit.

He tossed his phone onto the table, meeting his friends’ eyes. They were watching him, waiting for his next move.

Reiner: I’m telling you, man, you’re either gonna lose her or you’re gonna lose yourself trying to keep her. You can’t control everything.

Ony snorted.

Ony: He’s right, you know. You gotta chill out, bro.

Eren leaned back in his chair, a frown settling on his face. He didn’t like hearing the truth. Not from them. Not about this.

He glanced over at Connie, Reiner, and Ony.

Eren: I don’t know what to do.

There was a brief pause before Connie spoke up, his tone more serious than before.

Connie: Honestly, dude? You gotta stop playing games. Either you’re gonna let her go, or you’re gonna go after her. For real. No more back-and-forth.

Eren looked at his friends, his mind racing. Connie was right. He was at a crossroads, but the pull he felt toward Y/N was too strong. He wasn’t ready to let her go.

Eren took a deep breath, slamming his drink down on the table.

Eren: I’m going after her. I don’t care what happens. This time, I’m not backing down.

Reiner, Ony, and Connie exchanged looks, and then a silence fell over the table as they all realized the gravity of what Eren was saying.

Ony: Well... that’s the Eren I know. Just don’t get arrested, bro. We got enough problems without you bringing the cops into this.

Eren’s lips curled into a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His mind was already on Y/N, already thinking of the next step. This time, he was going to get what he wanted, no matter what it took.

Eren: We’ll see about that.

Timeskip

Eren had been out of the office for the entire week. The sudden absence had given me the space I didn’t realize I needed. For the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe. I wasn’t constantly on edge, waiting for his presence to fill the air, to make the ground beneath me feel shaky with every word he said or every look he gave. It was a weird feeling, almost like something had been missing, but in a good way.

I texted my friends to update them. I couldn’t keep this bottled up any longer.

Me: Mikasa, I met Ony and Armin, the guys you added to the chat.

Mikasa: They’re cool.

Kaylah: How she know’s Eren’s friends?

Mikasa: High school.

Annie: So you know Eren then?

Mikasa: Kinda, we weren't really that close. More of a friend of a friend thing.

Kaylah: Aye, Ony, Armin. I know you bitches still in here.

Ony: What you want, Kaylah?

Kaylah: Anyway, why Eren ain't in the office?

Armin: He not catching a case.

Ony: He’s well...

Armin: Bro, shut up.

Annie: Nah, nah, spill now.

Ony: Leaves group

Mikasa: Adds Ony back to group.

Mikasa: You were saying?

I laughed as the group chat erupted with back-and-forth messages. They were like a well-oiled machine when it came to digging for dirt, and I was more than ready to let them have it. I didn’t want to keep this to myself anymore.

Me: Alright, alright. Here’s the tea: Eren’s been out of the office this whole week. But, like, he’s been working from home, so I don’t know what’s going on with him.

Kaylah: Damn, that’s a whole vibe. So, what, he’s just... avoiding you?

Me: I don’t know, girl. Maybe. He just started acting strange last week, and then... he took the whole week off.

Annie: Did he say why?

Me: He didn’t. And I didn’t ask. But it’s like I get the space I need... but I also miss him? I don't even know what to think about it anymore.

Mikasa: You like him. Don’t front.

Me: Maybe. I don’t know, Mikasa.

Kaylah: Girl, come on. You definitely like him. You just don't want to admit it.

I paused, biting my lip as I read through their messages. I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself, let alone them, but the truth was undeniable. Every time Eren wasn’t around, I felt this hollow ache in my chest, like I was missing something vital. Maybe I was starting to get used to the tension, the way he made me feel when he was near. I didn’t want to, but it was there.

As if on cue, my phone buzzed again with a message. It was from Eren. My stomach flipped when I saw his name on the screen.

Eren: Can we talk?

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I didn’t know what to do. I was still mad at him for the things he’d done. But I couldn’t help but wonder what he had to say now. Why had he texted me out of nowhere?

Me: Now?

Eren: Yes. It’s important.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the nerves that were quickly setting in. He had a way of making everything feel so intense, so out of my control. But I was done with running away from this. I’d face him.

Me: Fine. I’ll come by in 15 minutes.

I could practically hear the smirk in his reply.

Eren: Good. I’ll see you then.

My heart beat a little faster as I closed my phone. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. There was something about him—about Eren—that I just couldn’t ignore.

When I arrived at the address Eren had texted me, I was standing in front of a sleek, modern apartment building. It looked too nice for someone like him. Maybe I was just underestimating him.

I made my way up to the penthouse and knocked on the door, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. As soon as the door opened, Eren stood there, looking like he belonged in a magazine. His usual intense gaze softened when he saw me, though, and I couldn’t help but notice the subtle change in his posture.

Eren: You came.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Me: You wanted to talk?

Eren stepped aside, motioning for me to come in.

Eren: Yeah. I’ve been thinking a lot this week. About everything.

I stepped into the apartment, my eyes scanning the room. It was tastefully decorated, minimalist, and oddly calming. Eren closed the door behind me, his gaze lingering on me as I took in my surroundings.

Me: Well, let’s get this over with, then.

He chuckled softly.

Eren: I was an idiot last week.

Me: You think?

I crossed my arms, trying to hide how his admission affected me. He was right, I’d been suffocating under the weight of his attention, but now that he was pulling away, I couldn’t deny that something was missing.

Eren: I wanted to apologize. I was... overbearing.

Me: That’s one way to put it.

He took a step closer, closing the distance between us.

Eren: I had to take a step back. I didn’t know how to handle it. But I can’t deny what I feel for you, Y/N.

I froze. His voice had dropped an octave, and I could feel the weight of his words in the pit of my stomach.

Me: You can’t just say things like that.

Eren: Why not?

He was too close now. Too close for comfort. My breath hitched as he placed a hand gently on my arm, his thumb grazing my skin.

Eren: I’m not going to apologize for what happened between us. But I need you to know that I can’t let you go. Not like this. Not after what’s between us.

I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice.

Me: What if I don’t want this?

Eren leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered.

Eren: I don’t care if you don’t want it. I’m not going to stop.

My head spun. The mix of desire and frustration was overwhelming. But I couldn’t ignore how his presence seemed to fill every corner of the room, making it feel smaller, tighter.

Me: You’re crazy.

Eren: Maybe. But I’m not backing down.

He leaned even closer, his lips just a breath away from mine.

Eren: I’m not letting you go, Y/N. Not now, not ever.

His words hung in the air as he slowly tilted his head, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss was gentle at first, as if he was testing the waters. But I melted into it, my hands moving to his chest as I pulled him closer.

When he pulled away, his face was inches from mine, and I could see the struggle behind his eyes. He wanted me, but there was something more there. Something deeper.

Eren: And neither are you.

I felt my knees weaken, the tension between us unbearable as I tried to resist, tried to push him away. But the pull... it was too strong.

Eren smiled softly, his gaze never leaving mine as he stepped even closer, his breath mingling with mine. The heat between us was undeniable, and his presence seemed to consume the space around us.

Eren: Stop me, Y/N. If you really don’t want me, tell me to back off, and I’ll stop. I’ll drop this whole thing right now.

I swallowed hard, my thoughts racing. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He was my boss, my manager. I was supposed to stay professional, keep my distance. But the way he looked at me, the way his voice dropped lower with every word, it was like I couldn’t think straight.

Me: Eren... you’re my boss, you’re my manager.

Eren chuckled, shaking his head.

Eren: Technically, I’m the owner and CEO, but I like this position more at times.

My eyes widened in shock.

Me: What on earth? I thought the founder was Zeke Yeager.

Eren laughed, a rich, confident sound that sent shivers down my spine.

Eren: Zeke is my older half-brother. He’s a co-founder. I just didn’t want my name plastered all over it. But... back to the topic.

I stared at him, completely caught off guard by the revelation. My mind was spinning, trying to wrap around the fact that he owned the company. He was the one who called the shots. The one who controlled everything. And here he was, standing right in front of me, making everything feel like it was about to fall apart at the seams.

Me: You’re... crazy.

Eren’s smile deepened, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t quite place.

Eren: Maybe. But right now, you’re the one who’s making me lose control.

I took a step back, shaking my head, but he didn’t back off. His presence was overpowering. Every step he took toward me made me feel smaller, more vulnerable.

Me: We shouldn’t do this.

Eren paused, his expression unreadable, before he took another slow step closer, closing the gap between us. I could feel the tension building, thick and almost unbearable.

Eren: Say the word, Y/N, and I’ll stop. Just say it.

I looked up at him, my chest tight with conflicting emotions. He was so close now, I could feel his warmth, hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. His eyes were locked on mine, waiting for me to make a choice, to decide where this was going to go.

But what was I supposed to say? Could I even say it? Could I walk away from this... from him?

Me: I... I can’t.

Eren’s gaze flickered with something darker, something more intense, and before I could even process it, his lips were on mine again. This time, there was no hesitation. His kiss was hungry, demanding, and it ignited a fire within me that I didn’t know I could still have.

I was drowning in it, in him, in the weight of everything unsaid, all the questions and fears I had about us. I couldn’t stop it. And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to.

Eren: I told you, Y/N. I’m not going to stop. Not now. Not ever.

I didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know how to stop what was happening between us. The lines between work and whatever this was had already blurred beyond recognition, and I had no idea how to find my way out.

Eren’s voice was rough, laced with hunger, as he groaned my name, the sound vibrating through me. His hands gripped my wrists, pinning them above my head as he leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. Every movement was calculated, controlled, making it clear just how much power he had over me in this moment.

Eren: Y/N... you don’t have any idea what you do to me.

I couldn’t speak. The words caught in my throat, my body frozen beneath him. His weight, his closeness, it felt suffocating in the most overwhelming way. But I couldn't deny that a part of me wanted this, wanted him, wanted the heat that radiated off him, the way he made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered.

He lowered his lips to my neck, trailing soft kisses along the sensitive skin, the feeling sending a jolt through me. My breath hitched as his hands moved down, gripping my waist tightly as he slowly, carefully, slid me further back on the couch. The movement was deliberate, almost possessive, like he was marking me, staking his claim.

Eren: You’ve been driving me crazy, Y/N. I can’t get you out of my head. And now... now you’re mine.

I gasped as he spoke, the words stirring something inside of me. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet... there was something thrilling about it. The way he controlled the situation, the way he held me down, making it clear that he wasn't going to let go—he wasn’t going to let me go.

I swallowed hard, trying to fight the conflicting emotions that were starting to bubble up. I wanted to push him away. I wanted to tell him to stop, that this was wrong. But the words never came. Instead, I found myself sinking deeper into the feeling, the heat, the intensity of the moment.

His lips hovered above mine, his breath mingling with mine as he whispered, his voice low, almost a command.

Eren: Tell me you don’t want this, Y/N. Tell me you don’t want me to take control.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. My mind was a blur, the only thing I could focus on was him, his body against mine, the way he was making me feel like I was completely at his mercy.

I couldn’t deny it anymore. I couldn’t ignore the pull between us. The fire in my veins.

But even as I gave into the moment, a part of me knew it wasn’t going to be as simple as this.Eren’s words were soft, almost a whisper, as he pulled back, releasing my wrists. His hands fell to his sides, and he exhaled heavily, like a man who had just been holding his breath for far too long.

Eren: I’ll stop... I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.

The sudden distance between us was almost more overwhelming than the intensity of his earlier actions. My chest rose and fell rapidly, my heart pounding, unsure of what I should feel. His voice had been filled with something I couldn’t place—guilt? Regret? Or was it just his way of keeping control?

I tried to sit up, my body trembling slightly as I took in what had just happened. My hands moved to my throat, as if trying to steady the rapid breaths, but I could still feel the heat of his presence surrounding me, making me feel trapped in the tension that hung between us.

Y/N: Eren...

I couldn’t even get the words out, unsure if I wanted to argue, to push him away, or to confess that a part of me didn’t want him to stop. It confused me—this mix of anger, desire, and confusion all swirling inside me like a storm.

Y/N: You... you can't just... do that.

I stumbled over my words, my voice shaky as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had pushed me, tested my limits, but I wasn’t sure if he even realized the depth of what he’d done. The emotional weight of it was suffocating.

Eren stood there for a moment, his back slightly turned, but he wasn’t walking away. He was waiting for me, waiting for something. I didn’t know what exactly, but I could feel his eyes on me, the tension in the air like a fragile thread.

Eren: I know... I know. I crossed a line. I just... I can’t be near you and not want more. But I should’ve never made you feel like you had no choice.

He turned back to face me, his eyes softer now, but there was still that edge, the intensity that never seemed to leave him.

Eren: I can’t promise that I won’t want you. But I can promise I’ll respect you, Y/N. If you tell me to stop, I will. If you don’t want this... I’ll walk away. But I need you to tell me.

The silence hung between us, thick and heavy. The words I wanted to say were stuck in my throat—what did I really want? Could I really trust him not to cross that line again? Could I trust myself not to fall deeper into this twisted game we were playing?

I looked up at him, his face a mask of regret and something darker, something deeper, and in that moment, I realized that Eren Yeager was a man of contradictions. But more than that, he was a man who knew what he wanted. And that was dangerous, because right now, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stop him.

As soon as I left Eren’s apartment, my heart was still racing, my mind swirling with the confusion of everything that had just happened. The quiet hum of the city around me barely registered as I quickly typed a message to my group chat, hoping my friends could offer some clarity—or at least some comfort—after the whirlwind I’d just been through.

Group Chat:

Y/N: SOS, my place. Now.

It didn’t take long for the messages to flood in.

Kaylah: Girl, what happened??

Mikasa: Are you okay?

Annie: You good, Y/N?

I didn’t know how to answer them. How could I explain the suffocating mix of emotions I was feeling? The tension, the heat, the confusion, the need... I was a mess.

I responded quickly, trying to catch my breath as I walked faster toward my apartment.

Y/N: It’s... it’s bad, guys. I don’t even know what happened. I don’t even know what to think right now.

The three of them went quiet for a moment, and just as I was about to send another message, my phone started buzzing again.

Mikasa: Do you want us to come over?

Kaylah: Don’t go back to him, girl. You deserve better.

Annie: He did what??

The words hit me harder than I expected, the reality of it all crashing down. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the way Eren had acted—how he pushed and pulled me, how everything had escalated so quickly. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his lips felt against mine, the way his body had pinned me, the desire, the intensity...

But the other side of it—the control, the way he’d dismissed me as soon as I started to speak—left me feeling small, insignificant. It made me question everything, even my own feelings.

I paused at a crosswalk, staring at the phone screen, trying to figure out how to respond.

Y/N: He told me to leave. Like it was nothing.

I hit send, my fingers trembling slightly.

Kaylah: What do you mean?

Mikasa: He told you to leave?? After everything that happened??

Annie: What a piece of shit.

I almost laughed bitterly at Annie’s words. She wasn’t wrong. But something inside me twisted, because I didn’t want to think of him as that. Not after everything. Not after the way he made me feel, both good and bad.

I didn’t want to feel conflicted anymore. I didn’t want to feel trapped in my own thoughts. But the reality was, I was. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t know if I was ready to walk away for good.

I finally made it to my apartment, but my mind was still spinning, the nagging thoughts swirling around Eren. I needed to talk to my friends. I needed them to pull me out of this spiral.

I quickly unlocked the door and flopped down onto the couch, letting my phone rest on my chest.

Y/N: I don’t even know what to do anymore...

Kaylah: Get some sleep. We’re coming over in a bit. Don’t go back to him, though. Not like this.

Annie: Yeah. You need to clear your head, girl.

I closed my eyes for a moment, the weight of their words settling in. Maybe they were right. Maybe I needed to pull back, take a step back from everything, from Eren, from the intensity he had brought into my life.

But part of me knew that wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

I set my phone down, staring at the ceiling as my mind replayed every moment from the apartment, every word, every touch.

I wasn’t sure what would happen next. But I knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t over. Not ye

I sat down on the couch, my hands trembling as I told them everything. The kiss, the tension, the way Eren pushed and pulled, the way he’d given me an out and I still hadn’t stopped him. I hadn’t even tried. I couldn’t bring myself to, and that realization hit me harder than I expected.

Kaylah was the first to speak up, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

Kaylah: Why didn't you stop him, Y/N?

I froze, the question hanging in the air like a weight. The answer was simple yet complicated. I hadn’t wanted to stop him. The truth was, a part of me had wanted it. I couldn't lie to myself about that. I was drawn to him in a way that made no sense, especially after everything that happened earlier today.

But I didn’t know how to say that. I didn’t know how to admit that I’d wanted him, maybe even needed him, in that moment.

I stayed silent, my gaze fixed on the floor as I tried to gather my thoughts.

Annie: Omg, you wanted him to, didn’t you... holy fucking shit, Y/N.

Her voice held that amused, mocking tone, but underneath, there was something softer. Something more... concerned. Mikasa, on the other hand, was less playful and more serious as she looked at me, processing everything I’d just spilled.

Mikasa: Let's backtrack for a second. So, Eren is the co-founder, CEO, and whatever else of Paradis Inc. Not Zeke.

I nodded, still caught in the whirlwind of everything, but I couldn’t help but feel a little rattled by her words. It was hard to process everything. I had thought Zeke was the one pulling the strings, but now Eren had just flipped my entire perception upside down.

I had only known him as my boss, but now? The owner, the CEO, the guy who owned everything around me? It changed things in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I still couldn’t get over how he’d been watching me. The way he knew so much about me, the little details I hadn’t shared with anyone. It was like he had studied me, prepared for this moment—this power dynamic, where he held all the cards.

I was the one with no control, and I couldn’t decide if I hated it or craved it more.

Kaylah: Wait, you didn’t know all of that?

I shook my head, the weight of the secret crashing down on me. Y/N: No. I thought Zeke was the one who owned the company. I had no idea Eren was...

I trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. How was I supposed to process the fact that this man, who had kissed me like I was his, was also the one with all the power? The one who controlled everything.

Annie: So Eren’s basically been running this shit behind the scenes?

Mikasa: And you didn’t even know. I can’t believe he didn’t tell you sooner.

I shook my head again, trying to wrap my mind around it.

Y/N: No, he didn’t tell me. But it’s more than that. The way he... controlled everything between us... made it feel like I didn’t have a choice. I don’t know how to explain it, but when he kissed me, I... I didn’t want him to stop.

The words spilled out before I could stop them, and the room fell silent as my friends processed what I had just admitted.

Kaylah: Damn, Y/N. You want him. You’re hooked on him.

I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know if I could even deny it anymore. But that didn’t mean I was okay with everything that had happened. It didn’t mean I could just ignore the fact that I had let him get so close. That I had let him in when I knew, deep down, something wasn’t right.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe, just maybe, I liked the way it felt. The intensity, the pressure, the way Eren had made me feel like I was the only one in the world for him. Like he was in control, but in a way that had made me feel wanted.

Annie: Y/N, I don’t know what kind of mind games Eren’s playing, but you need to think long and hard about what you’re doing. This could go left real quick.

Her words hit me like a cold shower. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew she was right. There was something dangerous about how easily I had let myself slip into his control. Something that scared me.

I rubbed my forehead, trying to gather my thoughts.

Y/N: I’m not sure what to do. He’s... he’s confusing. I don’t know if I should stay away from him or... or go back to him.

Kaylah: Girl, you’re playing with fire. He’s your boss, for one thing. You can’t just let him run shit like that. You deserve better.

Mikasa: Yeah, Y/N, if you’re not careful, this could get real toxic, real fast.

I sighed, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on me.

Y/N: I know. I know it’s not healthy, but there’s something about him I can’t shake off. Something that makes me want to stay close to him... even when I know I shouldn’t.

My phone buzzed suddenly, cutting off the conversation, and I quickly glanced down. The message was from Eren.

Eren: You know I’m serious, right? We need to talk.

My heart skipped a beat. I didn’t know if I was ready to talk to him again—didn’t know if I was ready to face what had just happened. But a part of me couldn’t resist.

I locked my phone and put it face down on the coffee table.

Y/N: I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, but I’ll figure it out.

The room was quiet again, my friends’ concerned gazes on me as I tried to make sense of everything.

The tension in the air thickened as Mikasa held my phone, her fingers pressing against the screen, and she put it on speaker without a second thought. The moment Eren’s voice crackled through the speakers, my heart skipped in my chest.

Eren: Who are you?

Mikasa: Mikasa, why you calling her phone

Eren: what the fuck? Where’s Y/N?

Mikasa: What the fuck are you on?

I could hear Eren sigh on the other end, clearly frustrated, but Mikasa wasn’t about to let him off the hook. She leaned back into the couch, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed as if she could hear him through the phone.

Eren: Where’s Y/N?

Mikasa: Answer the question, Eren.

I could feel the weight of his silence pressing through the room, but Mikasa wasn’t backing down either.

Eren: Where’s Y/N?

Mikasa clicked her tongue in annoyance.

Mikasa: Is your record broken in that throat of yours?

I could hear Eren’s breath hitch, probably trying to keep his cool, but the frustration was palpable.

Eren: Take me off speaker, Mikasa. I’m not stupid.

Mikasa didn’t hesitate. She let out a little chuckle, her fingers tapping the edge of the phone like she was playing a game.

Mikasa: Nope.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at how this was escalating. It was almost like they were enjoying this back-and-forth too much.

Eren: You wouldn’t get it.

Mikasa: Get what, Yeager?

Her voice was sharp, and there was a dangerous edge to it now. Eren didn’t respond immediately, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. I could imagine him standing there, running his hand through his hair, annoyed at being backed into a corner by Mikasa of all people.

I leaned back against the couch, my heart still racing from the conversation, unsure of what was going to happen next. I hadn’t expected Mikasa to put him on speaker, but now that she had, there was no turning back. This was going to get messy.

Mikasa: Well?

There was another long pause, and when Eren finally spoke, his tone was more resigned than before.

Eren: I don’t need your fucking permission, Mikasa. I’m trying to talk to Y/N.

I could hear Mikasa’s sharp intake of breath.

Mikasa: And you think she wants to talk to you after what happened?

The words hung in the air like a threat, and I had to force myself to focus on the situation.

Eren: Look, just... just put her on the phone. I need to talk to her.

Mikasa: That’s up to her, not you.

There was a finality to her voice, and I could feel the tension mounting. But deep down, I knew Mikasa was just looking out for me, protecting me from whatever game Eren was trying to play.

I grabbed the phone from Mikasa’s hand, finally deciding to take control of the situation.

Y/N: It’s me. I’m listening.

There was a moment of silence before Eren’s voice, softer than I’d ever heard it, finally came through the line.

Eren: Y/N...

His voice trailed off, and I could hear the mix of frustration and something else—something deeper, maybe regret or concern? I couldn’t tell.

But I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear him out, not yet.

Y/N: What do you want, Eren?

Eren: I... I need to explain. Please, just let me explain.

Mikasa: Y/N, don’t do it. He’s just going to confuse you more.

I glanced over at Mikasa and the others. They were all watching me, their eyes full of concern. I knew they didn’t want me to fall back into this mess with Eren. But part of me... part of me wanted to hear him out.

Y/N: I’m listening, but this better be good, Eren.

Eren sighed, and I could almost picture him pacing.

Eren: I didn’t mean to push you. I got carried away, but I need you to understand. I want you, Y/N. Not just as my employee or some... business thing. I want you. But I don’t know how to fix this. I’m sorry if I fucked things up with you.

I felt my heart hammering in my chest as I listened. His words were raw, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust them. After everything that had happened, I wasn’t sure what was real anymore. Was it just guilt talking, or was there something more to it?

Y/N: I don’t know if I can trust you right now, Eren. You’ve crossed too many lines, and I... I don’t know if I can just forget about that.

There was another long pause on the other end, and when he spoke again, it was almost a whisper.

Eren: I know. I get it. I just... I don’t want to lose you, Y/N.

I closed my eyes, biting my lip. This was getting way too complicated. I wanted to hear him out, but I couldn’t ignore how badly he had hurt me. The push and pull of it all was driving me insane.

.

Y/N: I told you, Eren, but I was never yours.

Eren’s sigh echoed through the phone, and I could feel the weight of it pressing down on me. It wasn’t just frustration; it was something deeper, like he had finally realized the truth.

Eren: You’re right, but I want you to be...

His words hung in the air, and I could hear the vulnerability in his voice, something I hadn’t expected from him. It was almost like he was pleading, but there was still that cocky edge lurking beneath.

Y/N: But if I don’t want that?

Eren’s response came quickly, with a sharp edge.

Eren: Then stop telling me what-ifs and tell me straight up you don’t want me. Then I’ll back off, Y/N. I won’t push you anymore, but I need to hear it from you.

The finality in his tone hit me hard. He was right. All this time, I had danced around the truth, letting the situation unfold without really confronting what I wanted. He wanted honesty, and in that moment, I realized I had to give it to him, no matter how much it stung.

I stood there, phone in hand, my heart pounding in my chest. It wasn’t just about him anymore—it was about me too. What did I want? What did I really want?

I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

Y/N: I don’t want you, Eren. Not like that.

The silence on the other end was deafening. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to respond, and I almost regretted saying the words. But I knew I couldn’t take them back.

Eren: Alright... I’ll respect that. But don’t think this is the end of it, Y/N. I’m not giving up so easily.

I could almost hear the smirk in his voice, but this time, it didn’t feel as teasing. It felt like a challenge. Like he was daring me to stand by my decision.

Y/N: Maybe it should be the end of it, Eren.

There was a long pause. I could hear his breathing on the other end of the line, and for a moment, everything felt still.

Eren: You’re making it harder than it needs to be, Y/N. But if that’s how it has to be... fine. You don’t want me. But you’ll regret it.

With that, he ended the call. The finality of it hit me all at once, and I stood there, staring at my phone, trying to shake off the mix of emotions swirling inside me.

Part of me felt relief, like I had finally put an end to all the confusion. But another part of me... part of me wasn’t so sure.

Was I making a mistake?

The next couple of months blurred into a strange, quiet routine. Eren had placed Zeke as my new manager, which, in hindsight, seemed like a relief at first. Zeke was easy to work with—no pressure, no tension. It was smooth sailing, and I almost forgot what it felt like to have that weight hanging over me. But there was always a nagging feeling, an emptiness that I couldn’t quite shake.

Eren... had become more of a distant figure now. He had fully taken over Zeke’s role as CEO, and with that, the office dynamic shifted. The gossip spread like wildfire, and it wasn’t the kind of talk that made him sound like the ambitious businessman people had once admired. No, the rumors about Eren now painted him as a monster—cold, detached, and impossible to work with. People said he was ruthless in meetings, demanding more from the staff, never satisfied, never giving anyone a break. He was the opposite of the manager Eren had been.

I rarely saw him anymore. When I did, it was brief—a passing glance, a fleeting moment where our eyes locked for an instant. It was like he saw right through me, as if I didn’t even exist. His gaze would always shift away before I could even register it. It was almost like I was nothing to him, like he had erased me from his world completely.

The changes were undeniable. Eren’s appearance had shifted drastically. His hair had grown longer, messier, giving him a rougher edge. He had been working out, his frame more defined, his muscles more prominent under his usual attire. But it wasn’t just his physical appearance that had changed. It was the energy he carried now—hardened, cold, and entirely unapproachable. He had tattoos now, ones that were visible under his sleeves when he’d roll them up, and they only seemed to add to the mystery surrounding him.

It felt like I was looking at a stranger.

Sometimes, I caught myself watching him from across the room, like I was some outsider trying to understand who he had become. And whenever I thought I had caught him looking back at me, there was no recognition in his eyes. It was as if I had become just another face in the crowd, an unimportant memory from his past.

I wanted to reach out. I wanted to ask him what had happened, what had changed. But I didn’t. The space between us had grown too wide, too complicated. And I didn’t know how to bridge it anymore.

For the first time in months, I couldn’t help but wonder... Did I really make the right choice? Was I wrong to push him away when everything had seemed to be going in the opposite direction?

The silence between us was loud, deafening. And I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was the one who had caused it all.

Zeke gave me some paper work to drop for Eren. It was the first time I was gonna have direct contact with him in wht 6 months. I headed up to his office floor.

Eren was pacing his office on a call raising his voice at someone on the call. He locked eyes with me and eyed the paper work in my hand.

I stood frozen just inside the doorframe, the papers in my hand suddenly feeling heavier than they should. Eren’s presence seemed to fill the room, his energy, tense and coiled, pulsing through the space like an electric current. His gaze met mine—sharp, cold—and for a brief moment, it felt like everything was suspended.

He didn’t acknowledge me verbally, just motioned toward the desk where he clearly wanted the paperwork dropped. His eyes, dark and intense, briefly flicked over the papers in my hand, as if evaluating my every move. The call on the other end seemed to escalate, but his attention never wavered from me.

“I need this deal settled as of yesterday. Don’t make me fly out there,” he snapped into the phone. His voice was lower now, even more commanding, his frustration evident as he cut the call short with a curt “I’ll handle it myself,” before slamming the phone down.

The office went silent, save for the hum of the air conditioner and the heavy weight of his stare. I stood there, unsure of what to do next.

He didn’t speak right away, just looked at me with a distant, unreadable expression. His posture was stiff, his jaw clenched, the usual air of authority that had once been reassuring now felt like an impenetrable wall. I could feel my heart beating loudly in my chest, a stark contrast to the stillness in the room.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence. “You still working with Zeke?” His voice was flat, almost too casual, but I could sense the underlying tension.

I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady. “Yeah, Zeke gave me this to drop off for you.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes scanning over the paperwork in my hands again before he let out a small sigh and stepped toward the desk. “Put it on the table.”

I placed the papers down carefully, then turned to leave, but before I could even make it halfway to the door, I heard him speak again.

“You know, you could’ve dropped these off any time in the past six months.” His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. He wasn’t asking a question. It was a statement—a reminder of the space that had grown between us.

I paused, caught in the moment, and turned slowly to face him. “I didn’t think you wanted to see me.”

He didn’t reply right away, his gaze lingering on me for a long moment before he spoke again, this time softer, almost like he was speaking to himself. “I didn’t want to see you like that.”

I didn’t understand what he meant at first. But the tone, the way his voice cracked slightly at the end, it was enough to make me pause, to make me reconsider everything I thought I knew.

I swallowed, taking a step closer again. “Eren... what happened?”

For a second, his eyes flickered with something—anger? Regret? But whatever it was, it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “Nothing happened. Everything happened. But that’s not the point.”

The tension in the air thickened, and the silence stretched between us. I could feel the familiar ache in my chest, the one I had been trying to ignore for months. The same ache that told me things weren’t as simple as they seemed. That maybe, just maybe, we weren’t as done as we had both convinced ourselves we were.

I stepped closer again, this time determined. “Then what is the point, Eren?”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought he might say something—anything that would make sense of this mess we were both tangled in. But instead, he took a step back, his expression shutting down again.

“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered, his voice hardening once more. “You’ve done your job. You can go now.”

I stood there for a long second, my heart pounding. Everything about this felt wrong—his coldness, the distance, the way he was shutting me out like he had done months ago. But I didn’t have the words to bridge that gap, not anymore. So, I nodded quietly, turning to leave without another word.

I did something out of character and stepped closer and he stepped back.

I stepped closer, feeling the space between us grow heavier with every breath. Eren, for the first time, took a step back, and I could see it—he was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if I kept closing the distance. His eyes flickered toward the door like he was looking for a way out.

“Y/N,” his voice was strained, as though he was trying to push me away without actually wanting to.

I didn’t stop. I needed to understand what had changed, why everything felt so off. "What’s with the cold shoulder?" I asked, my voice quieter now, laced with confusion and hurt. I wasn’t going to back down. Not now.

Eren didn’t look at me, his eyes glancing toward the door again. I took another step, moving closer, but every time I did, he pulled back, like I was something to avoid. It was so unlike him, and it confused me even more.

“Y/N, please leave,” he said, the words harsh but with an undercurrent of something I couldn’t name. Maybe it was a plea.

“And if I don’t?” I challenged, my heart hammering in my chest. I wasn’t going to let him push me away without understanding why.

“I’m not doing this, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking. “You told me you didn’t want me. I backed off. That’s what you wanted, right? I’m out your hair, out your way.”

I stood there, feeling the tension in the room tighten, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. Eren was backing away, his walls back up, that familiar coldness in his eyes. But it wasn’t the same as before. There was something raw in his expression, something deeper. I could feel it, like an undercurrent I couldn’t quite grasp.

“Eren…” I started, my voice faltering. “What happened to you? You look… different. You've changed.”

He glanced at me briefly, his gaze flicking to the door again, but he didn’t respond. It was like he was shutting me out completely, unwilling to even acknowledge what I had said.

I took a step closer, ignoring the instinct to back off. He took a step back too, but I wasn’t going to let him distance himself like this. Not again.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice more desperate than I meant it to be. “Why the distance? Why pull away now?”

“Yn,” he said, his tone tight, almost pained. “Please, just leave. I’m not doing this with you anymore.”

I couldn’t accept that. I couldn’t just walk away when there was so much left unsaid between us. I stared at him, taking another step forward. He didn’t move this time, but his jaw tightened, like he was fighting with himself.

“And if I don’t?” I asked, a challenge in my voice.

Eren’s eyes flashed with something I couldn’t place, and for a second, I thought he might snap. But instead, he stood his ground, shaking his head slightly. “Then you’re just making it harder for both of us.”

I couldn’t understand him anymore. The distance he put between us—physical and emotional—was suffocating, and it was tearing me apart. I had told him I didn’t want him, yes. But that wasn’t all of it. That wasn’t everything.

“I never said I didn’t want you,” I whispered, stepping even closer now, my heart pounding in my chest. “I just didn’t know how to deal with everything... with you, with me. But this... this doesn’t make sense, Eren. What is this really about?”

His eyes softened for a fraction of a second, but then his expression hardened again. He took another step back, his body language tense, like he was holding back something—something that was just about to break free.

“You told me you didn’t want this,” he said, his voice quieter now but still carrying that weight of finality. “You told me you wanted me to back off. And I did. You’ve made it clear. I’m not going to keep pushing when you don’t want me around.”

I opened my mouth to respond, to say something that would change his mind, but nothing came out. The truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. I didn’t know how to fix this mess. He was right—he had backed off, he had given me the space I said I needed. But now, it felt like I had been left with nothing. I wasn’t sure if I could walk away from him again.

I stood there, frozen, the words I needed to say stuck in my throat. Eren just stood there too, his eyes still avoiding mine, his body turned slightly away as if trying to create a barrier between us.

Finally, I took a deep breath, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to you, Eren. I never wanted you to just… disappear. But you’re right. I didn’t know what I wanted either. But I do now.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, clearly not expecting me to say something like that. “What do you mean?”

I swallowed, stepping closer once again, this time with purpose. “I mean… I’m not ready to walk away from you, Eren. But I need you to stop running from me. Stop running from whatever this is.”

He didn’t say anything, his eyes still guarded, but his shoulders visibly relaxed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give me hope. Maybe we hadn’t completely destroyed what we had. Maybe it was still there, buried underneath all the walls we had both built.

“Just… talk to me, okay?” I whispered, feeling the weight of the moment crash down on me. “Let me in, Eren.”

He hesitated for a long while, and then, just when I thought he might shut me out completely, he finally nodded, though his gaze was still distant.

“I’m sorry, yn. I really am.” His voice was barely a whisper, but it carried so much weight. “I just… I don’t know how to do this anymore.”

I reached out, a small gesture, but enough to bridge the gap. I didn’t want to give up on him. On us. Not when it felt like there was still something worth fighting for.

“I’ll help you figure it out,” I said softly. “But I need you to be honest with me. About everything.”

Eren looked at me for a long time, his expression unreadable. But eventually, he sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.

“I’ll try,” he finally said, his voice a little stronger. “But I can’t promise it’ll be easy.”

I nodded, offering him a small, hopeful smile. “I know. But we don’t have to do this alone.”

If you guys want a part two with just smut imma write it and drop it. this was already 21.3k words

[wolvietxt]

𝓕IRSTS 𝓦ITH 𝓨OU !

pairing : bucky barnes x implied fem!reader warnings : implied size diff, established relationship, tfatws!bucky, fluff,  wc : 2.6k summary : you introduce bucky to the things he’s missed out on, namely the office, theme parks, and emojis :3

bucky’s fingers hovered over the screen of his new phone, brow furrowed in concentration. you had been explaining how everything worked for the past half hour - apps, texts, even sending pictures - and while he was doing his best to keep up, you could tell he was still lost in the sea of modern technology. 

“so, this is how you send a text,” you said, pointing to the message box. “you just type what you want to say, then hit send.” you hit a few buttons on his phone and then pulled away to give him some space.

he nodded slowly, looking at the screen as if it were a puzzle he hadn’t quite solved yet. “okay. and... the emojis?” he asked after a pause, his tone unsure.

“they’re just little pictures to add to what you’re saying. makes it more fun, i guess.” you flashed him a quick smile before adding, “and, if you’re talking to me, you’re gonna use them, or else i’ll think you’re mad at me.”

bucky’s lips curved upward just a fraction at the playful challenge. “right,” he muttered, glancing back at the emojis, his expression turning serious again. “this one - ” he tapped an image of a smiley face, “ - this is good, right?”

you nodded with enthusiasm. “perfect. now try sending it to me.”

bucky hesitated for a moment before carefully typing out a message: “Hey. 🙂” 

he looked at you for approval, his blue eyes searching yours.

“well done,” you said softly, holding back a giggle. “you did it, buck.”

he grinned, a little relieved but still unsure. “guess ‘m getting the hang of this.”

“you are,” you replied, your voice filled with genuine encouragement. you could see him trying, and that was enough to make you proud.

“now,” you began, leaning in closer, “I’m going to teach you how to send a selfie. It’s easy.” you grabbed your phone and showed him how to take a picture, flipping the camera to face him. “like this.”

“a selfie?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, you’re going to love it,” you said, snapping a quick picture of him as he looked confused but willing to give it a try. “okay, now you do it. just - ” you stopped yourself, realising something. “don’t look so grumpy, though. smile a little.”

bucky rolled his eyes but played along, pulling a reluctant smirk before he tapped the button to take the picture. “this feels weird,” he muttered, but his gaze softened when he saw the result. he stared at the picture of himself for a moment, before looking at you. “it’s not bad.”

“not bad at all,” you said with a smile, grabbing your phone and sending the photo to him.

you watched him check his phone, his brow furrowing once more as he took in the photo, then back at the screen as you sent a quick text: “that smile is great, by the way.”

he read it, then quickly typed back: “you’re making fun of me.”

“no, i’m not,” you teased, tapping the keys with your fingers. “i think it’s cute.”

before he could respond, you leaned in, brushing your lips against his jaw. his body went still at the contact, the soft touch of your lips drawing his attention away from the phone. without saying a word, he kissed you fully, his lips warm and steady against yours.

“you talk too much,” bucky murmured when he finally pulled away, his voice gruff but affectionate.

you couldn’t help but giggle, looking up at him. “sorry,” you said, smiling in that way that made his chest tighten. “but i’m trying to teach you how to use a phone.”

“teach me less,” he replied, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. before you could answer, he kissed you again, this time slower, his lips lingering on yours longer than before. it was like he couldn’t help himself, needing to pull you close and forget about everything else. 

when he pulled back, there was a softness in his eyes that was so different from the gruff exterior he usually put on. “you’re a distraction,” he admitted, though he didn’t sound bothered in the least. 

“only when i’m teaching you how to text?” you asked, your smile still wide.

“always,” he said with a grin, kissing you again, this time more gently, as if savouring the moment before pulling away and reaching for his phone. 

he looked at the screen again, tapping at it thoughtfully. “okay, what about this one?” he asked, tapping a face with hearts for eyes. “it seems like... the right one.”

you grinned, unable to resist the warmth that filled you at how cute he was, trying so hard to understand all this. “perfect,” you whispered. “now, send it.”

bucky hesitated for a beat, then pressed send. he turned to look at you, like he was asking for your approval.

“you did it,” you said softly, heart swelling with affection. “now, you’re a pro.”

he raised his eyebrows. “am i allowed to text you good morning now?”

“whenever you want,” you said with a grin, your hand finding his and squeezing it gently. “and i’ll send you emojis all day.”

bucky looked at his phone again, glancing up at you with a fond smile. “then i’m gonna need to figure out a lot more emojis.”

“take your time,” you teased, before your lips met his once more, this time without interruption.

the apartment was dimly lit, the only light coming from the tv screen where the office was playing. you had insisted that bucky give the show a try, promising him that it was the perfect mix of awkward humour and heartwarming moments. at first, he had grumbled about it, saying something about not needing to watch “a bunch of idiots in an office.” but here you were, four episodes deep, and you could see that little spark of amusement in his eyes.

bucky had his arm draped around your shoulders, his large frame practically swallowing you up as you nestled into his side. you were curled up against him, legs tucked under you, head resting on his chest. every now and then, you could feel the rumble of his low chuckle vibrating against you whenever something on-screen caught him off guard.

“i still don’t get how that jim guy hasn’t been fired yet,” he muttered, shaking his head as jim played yet another prank on dwight. “guy’s got a death wish or somethin’.”

you smiled, turning your face up to look at him. there was a light in his eyes, the corners of his lips twitching upwards as he tried to hide how much he was actually enjoying the show. “maybe he reminds you of someone?” you teased, poking his side.

he shot you a look, all mock seriousness. “you callin’ me a troublemaker?” 

“if the shoe fits,” you replied with a grin, turning back to the screen.

as the episode continued, you found yourself more focused on him than the tv. you loved seeing bucky like this, relaxed, at ease, his defences down for once. there was something so endearing about the way he’d get lost in the episodes, brows furrowing when michael said something ridiculous, or the rare moments when he’d throw his head back and laugh - a real, deep laugh that you couldn’t help but adore.

during one of those moments, as pam and jim exchanged a look, you felt his chest rumble with laughter, and it was so infectious that you couldn’t help but giggle, too. he glanced down at you, catching you staring, and for a second, it was like the rest of the world disappeared.

“what?” he asked, his voice softening.

“nothing,” you said, a little shy under his gaze. “you’re just... cute when you laugh.”

his eyebrows shot up, surprise flashing across his face before it softened into a shy smile. “yeah? well, don’t go tellin’ everyone.” 

you laughed, but before you could tease him more, he suddenly shifted, tugging you closer until you were practically in his lap. your breath hitched as he wrapped both arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth. 

you fit so easily against him, his hands splaying over your waist, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart under your cheek. the show kept playing in the background, but you were completely lost in the moment, the way he held you so gently despite his strength.

“you’re missing the best part,” you whispered, but your voice was soft, almost hesitant, like you didn’t really want to break the spell.

“nah,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “this is the best part.”

your cheeks warmed, and you couldn’t resist tilting your head back to steal a quick kiss. he met you halfway, his lips warm and surprisingly soft, his stubble scraping pleasantly against your skin. 

“hmm, you taste better than jim’s pranks,” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips when he pulled away.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “careful, barnes, you might start liking sitcoms.”

“only if you’re watchin’ them with me,” he said, squeezing your waist gently. 

you settled back into his chest, letting the familiar sounds of dunder mifflin fill the room. with one hand idly playing with the hem of your shirt, bucky seemed content, occasionally making little comments about the show under his breath that made you giggle. 

as the theme song played for the next episode, you reached for your phone to check the time, but bucky’s hand covered yours, stopping you. “stay,” he murmured, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you glanced up at him, surprised by the hint of vulnerability in his eyes. it wasn’t often that he asked for things so openly, but when he did, it always tugged at your heart. 

“okay,” you whispered, setting your phone aside and snuggling closer, the two of you wrapped up in each other as the episodes played on, the world outside forgotten for just a little while.

the air was filled with the sounds of laughter, the occasional scream from the roller coasters, and the smell of funnel cakes and popcorn drifting through the breeze. the theme park was bustling with life, a kaleidoscope of colours and sounds that made your heart race with excitement. you could hardly contain your giddiness as you pulled bucky along by the hand, weaving through the crowd.

bucky, on the other hand, looked a little overwhelmed. his brows were furrowed as he glanced around, taking in everything like he was preparing for an ambush. it was endearing, really - the way his grip on your hand tightened every time someone bumped into you, his protective instincts kicking in.

“relax, buck, it’s just a theme park,” you teased, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

he grunted, still looking suspiciously at a guy in a giant mascot costume waving at children. “yeah, well, not sure i trust a place where people scream for fun.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, tugging him closer. “that’s the whole point! come on, let’s try a ride.”

you led him to the line for one of the tamer rides - a classic spinning teacup attraction. bucky eyed it warily, but he didn’t protest, letting you drag him into one of the pastel-coloured cups. once you were seated, you watched with a grin as he tried to figure out how the ride worked, his large hands gripping the metal wheel in the centre.

the ride started to spin, slowly at first, then picking up speed. you were laughing uncontrollably, the wind whipping through your hair, and when you glanced over at bucky, he had this look of pure concentration, like he was trying to out-spin everyone else.

“bucky, it’s not a competition!” you managed to gasp out between giggles.

he shot you a playful glare, a rare smile breaking through his usually stern expression. “everything’s a competition, doll.”

when the ride finally slowed to a stop, you were both a little dizzy, but you couldn’t stop smiling. you staggered out of the teacup, and bucky’s arm was instantly around your waist, steadying you. “you good?” he asked, his voice low and a little rough.

“never better,” you replied, leaning into his side.

next up was the game booths, where bucky’s competitive side really came out. you challenged him to one of those rigged carnival games where you had to knock down bottles with a baseball. he rolled his eyes at the way the game operator explained the rules, clearly unimpressed, but when it was his turn, he hit every target dead-on, not even breaking a sweat.

“show-off,” you teased, but you couldn’t hide the admiration in your voice.

“what can i say? i’m good with my hands,” he shot back with a wink, handing you the giant stuffed bear he won as a prize. your cheeks warmed, but before you could retort, he leaned down to steal a quick kiss, effectively shutting you up.

with your new teddy bear in tow, you wandered through the park, trying different snacks and taking in the sights. at one point, you insisted on getting a picture in one of those cheesy photo booths. bucky tried to protest, saying he wasn’t “photogenic,” but you dragged him in anyway.

the two of you squeezed into the tiny booth, your legs tangled together because of how little space there was. as the camera flashed, you made silly faces while bucky looked a little bewildered, but by the last frame, you managed to coax a smile out of him - a real one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

you couldn’t stop staring at the printed photos as they rolled out, your heart swelling at how happy he looked. he glanced over your shoulder, shaking his head with a chuckle. “gonna frame that, aren’t you?”

“damn right i am,” you said with a grin, tucking the strip of photos safely into your bag.

the sun was starting to set, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange, when you finally made your way to the roller coasters. bucky was skeptical at first, muttering something about not trusting “rusty death traps,” but you could see the way his eyes lit up with a mix of curiosity and adrenaline.

“just one ride,” you pleaded, giving him your best puppy eyes.

he sighed, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “fine, but if we die, i’m haunting you.”

you laughed, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the line. as the coaster climbed higher and higher, you could feel the tension in bucky’s shoulders. you reached over, lacing your fingers with his. “it’s gonna be fun, trust me.”

the drop was sudden and exhilarating, your screams mixing with the rush of wind, and when you dared to peek at bucky, he had this look of pure, wild joy on his face. it was rare to see him so carefree, and it took your breath away more than the ride itself.

when you finally stumbled off the coaster, legs like jelly, bucky was grinning like a little kid, his hair windswept. “okay, that wasn’t so bad,” he admitted, looking almost bashful.

“see? i told you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning up to kiss his cheek. he pulled you into a proper kiss instead, right there in the middle of the bustling crowd, not caring who was watching.

“thanks for dragging me out here,” he murmured against your lips, his voice soft in a way that made your heart flutter. 

“anytime, sarge,” you teased, smiling up at him.

he just shook his head, a fond look in his eyes as he pulled you closer. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

“yeah,” you said, resting your head against his chest, “but you love it.”

he just chuckled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, and you knew he wouldn’t trade this day for anything.

🌀 bucky barnes : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid

@yvespecially

🌀 one time tags : @pvndomi

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[theleotarot]

What’s Next In Love For You? ♡

Choose the image you are most drawn to or resonate most with… pile 1, pile 2, pile 3, & pile 4 ✨

My Ko-Fi paid pac readings and tipping ♡

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Pile 1

(Ace of swords, The Sun, Queen of Wands, Death, Seven of Cups, Nine of Swords, Nine of Cups, Fulfillment, Partying, Judgement, & Wedding)

Hi Pile 1, welcome to your reading. ♡

I believe that in the past with love, you have experienced some sort of sadness or disappointment. Whether it be a separation from an ex partner, or you just cannot seem to find the right partner for you, you seem to have been drowning in your own pain in regard to your romantic life. I think some of you may have also thought to yourself “What have I done to deserve this in my life?” Well, I just want to say that you are beginning to find clarity within yourself. I believe that this pain that you’ve been through has pushed you to start doing things for yourself. Whether it be focusing on school, work, hobbies, or friends and family, you are now putting yourself first and not rushing to find love. You may have felt like love or a romantic partner would fulfill you, but I promise that this journey you have started to build yourself back up again will fulfill you much more than anyone or anything else could ever fulfill you.

I think that when love comes next into your life, you will be very happily single and in your own space. I think that it will be at a time in your life when you have accomplished what you wanted, and perhaps even at a time when you are very social. Even if you are more introverted, there will come a time when you begin to socialize with others for your benefit. I think you may even meet your next person in love through any sort of party, maybe a wedding. It does not have to be a big event, but I’m seeing that it is a place where you will socialize a lot with friends and you will be living in the moment at that time. I think when you are with this person, you will do activities that involve a lot of fun too. They will bring extreme joy and laughter in your life. Lots of playful energy here. You may take a lot of photos with this person too. I also think that when this person comes into your life, you will no longer have the mindset of “Nothing good with love ever happens to me” or “I am doomed to be alone.” This person will obviously shift your perspective on love and give you a lot of emotional support I am sensing. I think that your previous wishes and daydreams are coming true with this person. For instance, if you’ve always wanted someone who takes you on beach walks and cruises through the mountains with you while listening to music, you will absolutely get this from them. I’m thinking that you won’t even have to ask this person to do anything, they will do things on their own will and surprise you. I think that as an outcome of what’s happening next in your love life is that you are going to be emotionally fulfilled, but you may still have some anxiety surrounding your situationship or relationship with this person. I believe that this stems from the past though. You may be very breath taken by this person coming into your life, but you are still scared that love will fail you once again. Even though you may have fears about love failing on you still, I certainly believe that the next person in love coming towards you is definitely committed to you, or at least their feelings for you are very genuine. Pile 1, your wishes and dreams are transforming to life now, so keep going, and you will be where you have always wanted to be. ♡

Who is this person coming towards you next in love? – Ko-Fi extended reading

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Pile 2

(The Unknown Card, Five of Cups, Five of Wands, Queen of Wands, King of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, Three of Swords, Truth, Abundance, World, & Engagement)

Hi, Pile 2! Welcome to your reading. ♡

I think that right now, you may feel lost in your love life or unsure of how things ended like in your pervious love experience(s). I am getting a sense of feeling that you may have recently gone through a separation with an ex partner or love interest, or you may have just felt the need to back away from a certain person. I am also getting that some of you may still wonder about the truth of your past situation. Maybe you never got the truth or clarity you needed. For some of you, I’m getting that your ex partner may have been a narcissist or treated you poorly or took you for granted. This feeling of lost or separation has resulted you in feeling worried, I would say about your love life. I am also getting that you may struggle with moving forward in terms of your life as a whole. I’m getting that you do want to proceed with your life, but you just feel so stuck and you may feel uncertain of how you can move on with your life. Pile 2, I think with time though, you will for sure be able to expand your life, including your thoughts and actions with love. I think eventually you’ll be able to walk away from the uncertainty or loss you’ve had and begin to have many love opportunities given to you.

When love comes in for you next, I believe that you will still be in your feelings of sadness and loss of something you once loved or cared for. You will be at a time where you feel very unstable with your life and emotions. I think you’ll also be battling with yourself mentally. I think you really want to get rid of these feelings of emptiness, but your mind is still struggling to have positive thoughts to let you be happy. I do think that when this next person in love comes into your life, they will bring you lots of stability, respect, and admiration that you did not have before. It is amazing here that you once were in a place with the 5 of cups, feelings of sadness and emptiness, but with this next love, it will offer you the King of Cups, which is lots of stability and emotional fulfillment. I think this next love in your life will also teach you to be more confident in yourself and you will gain clarity in terms of your romantic life. I think with this next person, they will offer you a very emotional connection too. A connection, I would say like soulmates. There will be a lot of passion and sparks between the two of you, I’m hearing laughter in your conversations. The type of love where you playfully run in their arms to spin you around, or vice versa. I think that the point of your union with this person is for you to experience a love that you have never received before, while also helping you to love yourself and build you stronger than ever before. Your next love really uplifts you to find yourself I would say. I believe that in the early stages of your connection with this person, your connection will develop very slowly, and because of this, you will feel like they might be playing you, not serious with you, or just don’t feel for you like you do for them. It will make you feel worried or upset, but Pile 2, I just want to say that they certainly do feel for you. They do take you seriously, and after these early stages, you and your next person in love will have a very young, free flowing, and innocent type of love. I think this love will also heal your inner child. Your union together is to make you both stronger as individuals and learn about the opportunities in life. ♡

Who is this person coming towards you next in love? – Ko-Fi extended reading

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Pile 3

(King of Wands, Five of Swords, The Moon, Temperance, The Chariot, The Hermit, Strength, Wisdom, Passion, & It Is Safe For You To Love)

Hi, Pile 3, welcome to your reading! ♡

I think you have recently overcome lots of obstacles or you’ve gone through some sudden unexpected change. Maybe this is a separation from an ex partner or person of interest. You may have had many sleepless nights worried about whatever situation that put you through anxiety or stress, but I believe that right now, you are in your power regarding love, education, career, money, and success. I think that the situations that you have gone through have left you no choice but to change yourself and proceed in your life in order for you to be happy. Perhaps right now you are picking up a new hobby, or trying to advance in a hobby. Maybe you are creating a small business or picking up a new side hustle. Maybe you are excelling in your classes much more than before. Your passion to succeed in life is dramatically increasing right now, and I just want to say Pile 3, although you don’t see it, with the adversity you go through, there are success, love, and wish fulfillment growing to life for you. Keep going my pile 3! You are in your power!

I think when love comes next into your life, I think you’re going to be a bit skeptical and in your head about it. I think when love is offered to you, you’ll think to yourself “Really? Why me?” It’s kind of like, you don’t really expect love to come your way because you’re not used to it, or love hasn’t did you well in the past. With this pile, Pile 3, I am hearing “Trust issues.” You may have this, just take what resonates. I think when love comes into your life, you’ll be afraid to open up to this person due to not wanting to get hurt. Maybe it takes awhile for you to trust someone and get comfortable with them for you to open up. You are most likely guarded. I think when love is offered to you next, you have probably been so much in your independence that you may hesitate to accept love. Eventually, you’ll let this fear subside though and you’ll begin to open up because you’ll feel intense passion with this next person in love. I think in the early stages of your situationship or relationship with them, you’ll realize that there is equal interest between the both of you, and that will help you open up much more. If you ever had to experience unrequited love, this next love coming towards you will be the complete opposite. This next person feels the chemistry and desire with you, and vice versa. They also have extreme loyalty and devotion to you. You’ll have a lot to talk about with this person. There are lots of texting, calling, and communication here in the courting stage. This next love will also offer you lots of traveling and lots of freedom as well. Lots of trips together, definitely. You may open up to this person slowly, but surely, you will feel comfortable with them in the end. Ultimately, this next love offer will help you gain inner strength, and let you know that it is okay to let love in and trust people with your heart. I think you’ll learn to love and enjoy having someone as company more than before, even if you are always used to being in solitude. I think you and this next person will have a lot in common in terms of your hobbies or activities you enjoy doing together. You’ll feel really safe with what’s coming towards you in love, Pile 3. Just remember that you are capable and worthy of a true, loyal, and healthy love. ♡

Who is this person coming towards you next in love? – Ko-Fi extended reading

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Pile 4

(King of Cups, Three of Wands, The Lovers, King of Wands, Death, Six of Pentacles, Four of Swords, Love, Blowing Kiss, Chariot, & Retreat)

Hi, Pile 4, welcome to your reading. ♡

I think right now in your life, you may have a person of interest, or someone in mind that you are attracted to and still debating if they are the one for you. I keep getting this energy in your reading that you definitely have someone, or you have your eyes on someone. If this isn’t the case, then I think there are other people who have their eyes on you and are interested in you, and they’ll be coming in pretty soon. I do think you are generally a more emotional human being though. Perhaps, you are a hopeless romantic. I also think that you do want to take your situation with this person to the next level. I’m thinking maybe you’d like to get to know them more, see them more, or go on more dates with them. For others who don’t have a person, I’m getting the feeling that you are very ready to let love come into your life right now. Maybe you are even seeking for romance right now. Pile 4, but I just want to say that your love life is really transforming right now, even if you don’t see it. I really feel like romance for you is close by.

When love comes next into your life, I think you’ll be super ready for it. Of course, if you already have someone in mind, you’ll be happy that you’re finally taking things to the next level with them. Again, I’m really feeling that what’s coming next in love for you is on the horizon. I think you’ll be planning a lot with this person. Maybe you will plan out the different types of dates you will go on, or maybe you will strategize ways to see them in real life just to talk to them. They will do the same. I’m getting that you’re actually super into them. There’s going to be a lot of talking between the two of you, and I’m getting that your affection for them is returned back to you. If you have already been texting, calling, or communicating with them, just know that your conversations are getting deeper and moving to the next level. It’s such a sweet love to start with. It’s like the beginning or courting stage will be filled with butterflies and nervousness because you both like each other a lot. I think that this next love coming towards you has to offer you a lot of expansion and growth in your love life. I think you’ll both take initiative and up lift each other in your relationship. There is so much giving and receiving here in your relationship with them. Maybe they might pay for a date, and later on, you’ll give them a gift, or maybe they’ll make you a special breakfast in the morning and then in the evening, you’ll surprise them with a homecooked dinner date. It’s things like this that I’m getting for you two. Love is returned here in this relationship. I also think, of course, you’ll no longer feel that intense feeling in your chest of “Oh do they like me like I like them? Will we ever be together?” like you once did before. By then, you would absolutely know that they feel a lot for you. Another thing I am getting with your reading is that this is the type of love where it feels like you are always in the honeymoon stage with them. You both are just so lovey dovey with each other, and the love won’t stop! With what’s coming next in love, there will be lots of giving and receiving as said before. You’ll receive this love that is reciprocated in all ways, and I think your mind and heart will be at ease when you are with this person. You’ll finally be able to get good night rests with what’s coming in for you. I think you’ll definitely think that this person was worth waiting for Pile 4. ♡

Who is this person coming towards you next in love? – Ko-Fi extended reading

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[creampie-capital]

║My Ex, The Oni║║━ Pt. 1 ━║

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

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

↳.·:*¨༺𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧༻¨*:·.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had his eyes opened while you remained blissfully ignorant. 

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

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

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

"I'm sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What about-" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

Dammit 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

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

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

◢

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

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Yeah, yeah.

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

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

◢

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

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Ur so responsible I'm envious😙😙

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

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Why do you still text like a teenage girl?

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

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

There is nothing against a grown man using abbreviations.

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

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

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

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

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

SECOND OF ALL YOU LITTLE PERVERT

I'M IN A RELATIONSHIP!

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

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

I can fight.

◢

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another snap of a picture, saved and sent. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arrow to the heart!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love that. She's creative!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arrow to the heart! 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

But it's fleeting, it should be. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ms. (L/n)?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course, love you too." 

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

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

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

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

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

How naive you were to believe it all. 

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

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are starting to understand what Reno meant by boundaries.

"I'm still in love with you." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you."

"I love you too."

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

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

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

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

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

Ps.

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

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

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

ᴍᴀᴍᴀ ꜱɪɢɴɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ

[corydora-writes]

A Glimpse of Us

Summary: You've been married to Bruce Wayne for the past three years, an arrangement initially orchestrated as a strategic alliance. With time, genuine affection and love blossomed between you. Burdened by his internal conflicts, Bruce vehemently denied his feelings and distanced himself from you, cloaking his emotions in an impenetrable facade. Then, an unexpected and mysterious visitor from the future compels him to confront the undeniable truth of his feelings for you.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Plus Size Female Reader

Expect a blend of fluff and angst. Reader is of fairy & human lineage.

Word Count: 5,356

A/N: So, here I go again. I don't know. I just have a thing for happy families and fairies, I guess. But hey, I wrote this two years ago and felt like sharing it. Also… I didn’t bother to edit it much. But nonetheless, ENJOY! X

The Batcave hummed with a low, almost silent energy. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the distant whirring of the Batcomputer. Bruce Wayne, clad in the familiar black armor, stared at the unmistakable crimson beacon on the screen. Beside the beacon was your photo and your current location. You were working tirelessly at your clinic in Gotham. Bruce knew you were safe, not that you needed any protection. He had observed you multiple times on the battlefield amidst the chaos and danger and was genuinely impressed by your skill and composure under pressure. 

Bruce vividly recalled the first time he encountered you during a covert mission with the Justice League Dark, where he was introduced to your existence in the most unexpected circumstances. As was his vigilant and cautious nature, he initially harbored suspicions about you, questioning your motives and abilities. However, you remained indifferent to his opinions, exuding an air of confidence that left a lasting impression. You made it unequivocally clear that his concerns were his own and owed him no explanations, standing your ground with unwavering resolve. 

Bruce couldn't help but smile as he reminisced about the past, recalling the intensity of that initial encounter and the unexpected turn of events. Little did he know that a simple partnership would eventually lead to marriage, which seemed unimaginable amid initial skepticism and guarded interactions.

Three years. It had been three years since your arranged marriage, a union born from the need to bridge the gap between two worlds. He, the human that was best suitable for you, and you, the fairy-human queen of a realm beyond the veil. The initial resentment had long simmered down to a dull ache, replaced by a love that felt like a betrayal, a betrayal of his vows, his mission, his very being. Instead of being truthful and honest, he told you that he never saw this arrangement becoming more than mere duty. And so, he cowardly pushed you away, encouraged you to date others, to find happiness outside your arranged marriage. But the truth was, he couldn't bear the thought of you with anyone else and a sense of great, hurtful regret pierced his heart when he saw you on a date with Kyle Rayner. And despite that, Bruce felt that the way you smiled, your laugh, the sparkle in your eyes, it all belonged to him, even if he refused to admit it.

He had hoped his avoidance would make the feelings fade, but instead, each passing day amplified them. He craved your touch, the soft brush of your fingers against his skin, the warmth of your embrace. It was torture, this yearning he couldn't acknowledge.

The red dot on the screen, now pulsating with a rhythmic urgency, pulled his gaze back from the memories. It was time.

'Alfred, I'm going out.'

'Very well, Master Bruce. Mind the streets, and be careful.' Alfred said.

Bruce, mid-way through donning his utility belt, froze when a blinding white light erupted from the cavern's entrance, momentarily eclipsing everything. As his vision adjusted, Bruce saw a towering silhouette, broad-shouldered and cloaked in darkness, silhouetted against the fading light.

'Who are you?' Bruce roared, his voice echoing in the cavern. But the figure remained silent, a stoic enigma, and then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Bruce, adrenaline coursing through him, cautiously approached the direction of the blinding light. His gaze fell upon a simple, woven basket resting on the cold concrete floor. Inside, nestled in a bed of soft fabric, lay a tiny infant, their face still and peaceful.

He surveyed the scene with a cold, distant gaze, his eyes tracing the sleeping face of the baby. A tremor ran through him, a shiver of something he couldn't quite place. 

A note folded neatly, sat beside the basket. Bruce picked it up, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes scanned the familiar script, a calligraphy he recognized but couldn't quite place. It read simply, 'Keep her safe. I will be back for her.'

Alfred's attention shifted to the basket, his normally stoic features contorting with bewilderment. He knelt beside it, his eyes wide at the sight of the baby.

'Master Bruce,' Alfred rasped, his voice barely a whisper, “She…  she has the Wayne emblem.'

Bruce's own gaze fell on the tiny silver emblem pinned to the infant’s swaddling clothes. The emblem, a symbol of his family’s legacy, now marked this tiny stranger.

He glanced at Alfred, who stood beside him, his usually impassive face etched with concern. 

“Alfred, is everything alright?" Bruce asked, needing the reassurance of a familiar voice in the wake of the impossible. “Is she… is she okay?”

"Certainly, Master Bruce," Alfred replied, his voice steady. "Except for the extraordinary circumstance that just transpired. I must confess, I have never seen anything like it."

With trembling hands, he studied the note once more. The handwriting was unmistakable—the flowing penmanship, the distinctive slant…

“Alfred,” Bruce uttered. “I- I think I wrote this note.” 

Alfred looked away from the sleeping oblivious baby and turned his gaze to Bruce.

“This doesn't make sense. I've always been against time travel. I have cautioned Barry Allen against his impulsive use of the Speed Force for reckless time travel,” Bruce said firmly. 

Time travel was a game of dominoes, one misplaced move, one alteration, and the entire future could crumble. 

Alfred smiled. "Indeed, sir. But allow me to propose an alternate perspective. Your future self may not have been reckless. He may have simply been acting as a father protecting his child. All rules and protocols are rendered moot when the safety of a loved one is at stake."

Bruce carefully took a small pinch of blood from the baby's heel. 

"Batcomputer, DNA analysis. Cross-reference with all known subjects in the Wayne database. And, I need a full medical report." 

"Initiating cross-reference procedure. Estimated time of completion: two hours."

He turned to Alfred who had the baby cradled in his arms. “Alfred, take the child to Y/N. She can check her to ensure she’s healthy. And bring her up to speed. Inform her about… everything.” 

The air hung heavy with unspoken questions, anxieties simmering beneath the surface. Alfred, his face etched with concern, nodded, carefully cradling the sleeping baby. 

“What will you do, sir, in the meantime?” he asked, his voice laced with an undercurrent of worry.

Bruce’s eyes, dark and bottomless, met Alfred’s. “I will wait for the results. We need to know, Alfred. We need to understand.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps it's unnecessary, sir. The baby bears an uncanny resemblance to both you and Dr. Y/L/N."

Bruce’s jaw tightened, a flicker of incredulity crossing his face. “I know, Alfred. That’s precisely what defies logic. I need to know if this is… possible. If what I’m seeing… is real.”

“I understand,” Alfred said firmly. He respected Bruce's request. As the butler carried the infant away, Bruce retreated to the colossal screen. 

The Batcave was silent save for Bruce’s loud thoughts. 

Bruce found himself unable to continue his vigilante activities as Batman. His need for facts gnawed at him incessantly. After an interminable wait, the Batcomputer whirred to life, casting an eerie glow across the cavern. Bruce observed, his heart racing as the data streamed across the illuminated screen.

Bruce stumbled back, his hand instinctively reaching for the support of the lab counter.

The Batcomputer’s monotone voice echoed through the lab. 

DNA results for the six-month-old alien subject: maternal match - Y/N L/N; paternal match - Bruce Thomas Wayne. The alien subject possesses magical abilities, some are dormant at birth. Recommend further study and careful observation.

—

As the clock struck 10:00 pm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief after a long and tiring day at your clinic. The thought of finally returning to the warmth and comfort of your cottage was a comforting prospect. As you gathered your belongings, the exhaustion started to lift, and you looked forward to reveling in a book at home. However, just as you were about to leave, the tranquility was shattered by the unexpected sound of the doorbell echoing through the empty clinic.

Alfred stood at the entrance and held a swaddled baby. When you first laid eyes on the baby, the world around you fell away. Alfred let himself exhale a whoosh of relief and he stared into your eyes that sparkled with ancient wisdom and held a kind of magic that transcended the mundane. You were one of a kind—your dual lineage woven into your very spirit, allowing you to navigate both the realms of humanity and the mystique of the fairies with grace.

Before Alfred could open his mouth to explain, you spoke. 

“She’s… mine and Bruce’s daughter.” Your voice trembled with disbelief and joy. Yet, beneath that disbelief lay a current of understanding. You were no stranger to the extraordinary; you had always dwelled in its embrace. 

You delicately lifted the infant from Alfred's embrace. The baby, with her tiny nose and delicate fingers, wrapped around your thumb and stirred. As you held the baby, a strange sensation washed over you. A rush of warmth, a sense of familiarity. It was as if a forgotten memory had been awakened.  The baby gazed up at you with eyes that sparkled like stars, and as she held your gaze, she conveyed images of futures untold—a lush hyacinth garden where a radiant you twirled in laughter beside a strong, confident Bruce who gently held his baby girl. His gaze was on you, tenderness and love in his eyes you had never witnessed. He was filled with a love for you that transcended time, a love that had bloomed in the years that had passed. 

“Our beautiful Mercy,” Bruce uttered and leaned in to press a gentle kiss on your lips.

The vision faded leaving you breathless. You looked back at the baby and noticed her delicate features that carried the echoes of Bruce and as if you even needed the reassurance, just helped to solidify the truth.  You wondered if you had become the woman Bruce had always wanted. The mother his future daughter needed? Or were you just a vessel, a safe haven for a child who belonged to another time?

Somewhere, in the shadows of the present, the man who shared her bloodline, the man she had grown to love, wrestled with his own demons, a man forever bound to you by the invisible threads of time. 

"She's got your eyes," Alfred remarked, as the baby wriggled in your arms.

Your heart ached with a love you weren’t sure you deserved and smiled faintly. "I see a little Bruce there, too..." you sighed. 

“I hope he finds the courage to speak his heart. He can be quite adept at handling challenges—both in the city and in his personal life,” Alfred said, probably to cheer you up.

—

You had decided to keep your distance from Bruce, who had vanished into the shadows after the revelation a week ago. Alfred, his loyal servant, offered no explanation, only a knowing glance that confirmed your suspicions. He was avoiding you. You couldn't blame him. Not really. Your marriage was a forced union for leverage and had been built on mutual indifference. Love had never been a part of the equation, even if you had allowed it to bloom in the fertile ground of his warmth and the shared care for his sons. But now, this child, this tiny miracle, had changed everything.

While a tinge of sadness lingered in your heart, you resolved to make the most of the time you had with your baby girl. 

Your modest cottage was livelier than ever. Your heart swelled with a love so intense, it threatened to consume you. Here you were with all your children who were a source of comfort and amusement. Then, there was Alfred, a reassuring presence in the chaos, who busied himself with changing diapers and preparing bottles while you rested. And each brother had taken on a different role in caring for Mercy. Dick had a knack for entertaining her, his playful antics making her giggle in delight. Jason, with his rough edges softened by tenderness, had taken to changing diapers with a grim determination that made everyone laugh. Damian, it seemed, was a little perplexed by the whole situation but had assumed the role of protector with a seriousness only he could muster.

You found yourself standing by the doorframe, unable to resist eavesdropping on the boys' conversation in the nursery. Though you wanted to join in, you decided to stay silent and just listen.

Dick plopped himself onto the floor, tossing a brightly colored rattle in the air with a flourish. “Just think about it,” he began, his voice energetic and animated. “With mom’s powers, Bruce’s detective knacks, and my martial arts skills, she’ll be unstoppable. I’ll take her training seriously, starting with the basics. I’ll teach her the best moves, and–”

“Who the hell made you primary trainer, Dick? I’ve died before and came back to life. A badass. If anyone can hone her skills, it’s me.” Jason chimed in, tongue-in-cheek, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms with a smirk.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “And yet that experience has made you reckless. You’re good, Jason, but lack discipline.”

“Discipline?” Jason scoffed. “I get the job done fast and efficiently-”

Damian scoffed, perched on the edge of your bed as he cradled his baby sister. 

He looked down at Mercy. “Unlike Grayson and Todd,” he declared with an air of authority, “I will continue to keep Gotham safe so you don’t have to burden yourself with protecting it. You’ll have the liberty to do normal things like run a bakery or help me manage Wayne Enterprises.” He paused, his expression softening as he looked at the baby in their midst. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t teach you how to defend yourself, baby sister.”

"And I swear,” Damian continued. “I will not let you walk the same path we did, well unless you want to. No night terrors, no endless chases through the dark. None of that. You’ll have your choice, and I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to you. And know this—you are never alone. No one gets left behind in this family.” As if sensing his gaze, his baby sister shifted slightly, her tiny hand brushing against his shirt. She might not understand his words yet, but in that fleeting moment, Damian felt an unbreakable bond form between them. He would be her protector, her brother, and the one who would teach her how to protect herself.

The unexpected declaration hung in the air, filling the nursery with an aura of warmth that caught everyone off guard. The corner of Dick’s mouth twitched upward, half-proud, half-amused. Jason raised an eyebrow, his typical bravado faltering for a moment. They hadn’t expected the youngest Wayne to express himself with such affection. 

You leaned against the doorframe, your arms wrapped lovingly around yourself, your heart swelling with affection as you listened to your sons. They had taken to their roles as older brothers with unexpected zeal, and you found it beautiful and precious to witness.

“I think Mercy might just end up becoming a mix of all of you three,” you said lovingly.

Mercy let out a series of delighted squeals, her arms flailing as she instinctively reached for you, the sound of her laughter filling the cottage like music. 

—

The Wayne Manor had been eerily silent for the past week, creating a palpable sense of wrongness. Bruce longed for the familiar sounds of his sons' bickering, Alfred's witty remarks, and, most of all, your presence. Your daily presence at the Manor had become a comforting routine. To the outside world, you and Bruce presented a facade of a content, married couple. Little did they know that a single room in the Manor held an enchantment, serving as a secret passage to your hidden cottage where every morning you’d come out of and every night, you’d enter. But for the past week, you didn’t. 

Bruce found himself standing in front of your door. It wasn't a coincidence or a fleeting moment of courage; it was a deliberate choice that he had been wrestling with since the arrival of your daughter from the future. The weight of his unspoken emotions had become too heavy to bear, and he knew he couldn't continue to run away. As he hesitantly raised his hand to knock, he felt the weight of every missed opportunity and every unspoken word. It took every ounce of courage he possessed to face you and finally admit that he had been a fool and a coward for evading his true feelings for so long. 

As if sensing Bruce’s presence, Alfred opened the door. 

“About time,” Alfred said bluntly, crossing his arms with an amused glint in his eye. “You let this go on long enough, Master Wayne.”

Bruce sighed. “I know. I just… needed time to think.”

“Think? Or avoid?” Alfred raised an eyebrow. “It’s been almost 8 days since you’ve seen your wife. 8 days of avoidance that likely brewed more uncertainty, I’m sure.”

“I don’t know what to say, Alfred,” Bruce replied, frustration evident in his tone. “I was just afraid,” he admitted. “What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin everything?”

Alfred sighed, adjusting his cufflinks and preparing to deliver his trademark wisdom. “Bruce, she’s your wife—not a foe to be defeated. It’s time to drop the pretense of the Bat and be a man. You’ve fought countless battles; this one requires only honesty.”

"I know," Bruce said, determination lacing his voice. "That’s why I’m here, Alfred."

Alfred offered a rare, genuine smile. "That’s the spirit, sir. I’ll be here, waiting to hear all about it—hopefully, with good news." Alfred's piercing gaze surveyed Bruce's disheveled appearance clad in his armor but bereft of his mask. He crossed his arms, a subtle display of his disapproval. “But first, for heaven’s sake, shower! You can’t confront the woman you’re in love with while smelling like sweat and leather.”

Bruce paused, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You always know how to make me laugh, Alfred. But… you’re right.” Bruce wore the suit like a second skin that he forgot he was still donning it. He let out a soft breath, the weight of his internal conflict lifting slightly.

“Go on, then,” Alfred prompted. “Wash away the grime of your nightly escapades.”

“Alright. Alright, Alfred.  I’m on it,” Bruce replied, finally conceding.

—

As Bruce returned and entered the cozy cottage, the scent of aged books and mahogany enveloped him. He followed Alfred down a hallway, lined with family portraits of your sisters, human parents, Bruce, and your sons. He came to a halt before a nursery, the moonlight spilling through the window and illuminating a cradle. You laid curled beside it. Bruce thought you looked ethereal, your face etched with exhaustion, yet your eyes, when they opened, were filled with a warmth that melted the ice around his heart.

“My precious little one,” your voice was soft and melodious as you spoke, your words imbued with the same warmth and kindness that had captivated Bruce's heart. “your tiny face is the mirror image of your daddy's. And just like him, I know you will grow up to be courageous, compassionate, and filled with the same unwavering determination to do what is right.”Your voice filled with an emotion he could only describe as pure, unadulterated joy. 

Bruce couldn't speak and relished that intimate moment, the way you held your daughter, his future, in your arms.

Bruce took a step forward, the creak of the floorboard drawing your attention. You looked up, startled, but then a soft smile spread across your face. 

"Bruce," you whispered, your voice laced with relief and a touch of awe. “You came.”

A smile slowly spread across his face. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion. 

“Please,” you retorted.

Bruce walked into the room, his heart heavy but strangely lighter at the same time. He saw the tiny face nestled against you, the tiny fingers wrapped around your finger, and felt a surge of love that he had never experienced before. 

“She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice rough. "So much like you."

You bit your lip, trying to contain the swell of emotions you were feeling. 

Alfred, who had been watching the exchange with a stoic expression, cleared his throat. “May I suggest a more private location?” Alfred’s tone was both firm and kind. 

You turned to look at Bruce.

“We can talk in my study,” you said, brushing the lingering thoughts of the intimacy shared in that moment aside. “If that’s okay with you, Bruce.” 

“Of course,” Bruce responded.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, ever the observer, before nodding with a hint of a smirk that suggested he knew more than he let on. "Very well,” he said as he grabbed the baby from your arms. 

Bruce followed you to your study room. You closed the door behind you, the click echoing in the quiet room, and a sense of intimacy settled between you two. "Please sit," you said, your voice soft but firm.

The room was bathed in the warm glow of a lamp, the rest of the study dark save for the faint moonlight filtering through the window. The scent of mahogany and aged parchment pervaded the air, mingling with the faint aroma of exotic herbs. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves adorned the walls, their spines whispering tales untold. Artifacts and curiosities from all over the world were carefully arranged on delicate display cases, hinting at a hidden passion for exploration. You were a naturopathic doctor, a fact he knew, but he rarely saw this side of you. 

"I apologize for the mess here." Your eyes met his briefly before you turned back to the bottles, your fingers tracing the delicate script on the labels. "This is my workspace, my haven. Sometimes, I just need to be surrounded by knowledge, by the potential for discovery…” you set down the obsidian bottle on the table and turned to meet Bruce’s gaze. “but anyway, we’re here to talk about much important things.” You paused. "I was starting to think you weren't coming,” you admitted.

"I’m sorry," Bruce finally choked out, his voice rough. "I… I didn’t know what to do." He could sense the tension in the room, the weight of unsaid words lingering in the air like a storm about to break.

“Bruce,” You began, your voice soft, “don’t apologize. I know this is a lot to take in. But I need you to understand that this future doesn’t have to happen... and it probably won’t.”

You paused, your gaze fixed upon your husband, who remained seated, his piercing blue eyes inscrutable. "I mean, our marriage is not a decree of destiny," you insisted, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and longing. "This future is not written in stone."

Bruce watched you with a heavy heart. Your words cut him deeply. Had he pushed you away so vehemently that you didn’t envision a future with him? You continued your unstoppable torrent of words, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“I'm not blind to your feelings, Bruce. I am an obligation, nothing more,” you uttered.

Bruce's gaze met yours, a brief moment of vulnerability in his impenetrable facade. A wave of guilt crashed over him. He’d been a cold, distant husband, his heart a locked vault, refusing to admit the truth of his feelings to you.

“That is not true, Y/N. Don’t ever say that.” Bruce uttered, his voice gaining strength. 

“Then speak your mind, Bruce," you pleaded. "Because for the past 3 years, your silence has betrayed your statement."

The tension in the room became palpable. Bruce stood up from the worn leather chair, his eyes narrowed with determination as he took a deliberate step towards you. In response, you took a step back involuntarily, feeling the weight of the room's tension pressing in on you.

"Y/N," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "you make me feel things I've never allowed myself to feel. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once. I never thought I'd want to be vulnerable with someone, but here I am, wanting to share everything with you."

you shifted slightly, your gaze piercing into his. Your eyes showed an understanding and a quiet recognition of his struggles. 

"and it feels so right," he added, now more earnest. "Being with you feels like home, which frightens me more than anything else. I've built up so many defenses to protect myself, but you—you're breaking through them, and I can't help but want to let you in."

Bruce took another step closer to you. "Yes, I admit, our marriage was merely a formal strategic alliance. Before you, I never saw myself sharing a future with anyone because until three years ago, I didn't know I had one."

For a moment, Bruce feared you might look away and leave him exposed.

Bruce continued with unwavering determination as he made another step forward, his eyes reflecting a mix of wonder and excitement. "But a week ago, I caught a glimpse of my future. And damn it, it's incredible."

"Bruce," you whispered, your voice barely audible, and found yourself locked in a trance by the intensity of his gaze. Without realizing it, he had closed the distance between you, and when you attempted to retreat, you felt your legs pressed against your desk. Feeling the hard surface behind you, you instinctively leaned into it, seeking its support as your pulse quickened with anticipation and uncertainty.

"Y/N, I'm not usually one for superstition, but I strongly feel we were meant to be together. It's as if our paths were always meant to converge, with you destined to be mine and I, yours."

"Bruce..." you repeated, soft and quiet. He was so close to you now that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

But Bruce said enough. He lowered his head, his lips pressing against your soft lips. He poured every ounce of his unspoken emotions into that kiss - the longing, the regret, the desperate hope that he wasn't too late. You froze for a moment, your mind reeling. This wasn't the Bruce you knew, the man who treated you with polite indifference, who saw you as a pawn in a game of power. This was a man who craved you, who yearned for your touch, who bared his soul in a single, impassioned kiss.

Bruce’s hands traveled from your waist to the small of your back, holding you securely as if you were the only thing that mattered. You kissed him back intensely, welcoming his tongue with yours. You could feel the thrill of adrenaline coursing through you, mixing with the warmth of his body against yours. 

Breaking the kiss, you gazed into his deep eyes, searching for reassurance that this was real. Bruce smiled, his expression playful yet serious, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

Bruce knelt before you. “I love you,” Bruce whispered hoarsely, his words a confession long overdue. “You transformed my world, Y/N, and I want to spend my life showing you how much you mean to me. Will you marry me again? Only this time it’ll be honest and intimate. Just us.” 

Bruce pulled from his pocket, a vintage gemstone you knew had belonged to his mother. 

your eyes widen in shock and delight, Your breath catching in your throat. Then, you looked into Bruce’s sincere eyes, feeling the weight of his words.

“Yes!” You exclaimed, tears of happiness sparkling in your eyes. 

Bruce slid the ring onto your finger and planted a gentle kiss on your hand.

This was a new beginning, a chance to build something real, something true, something that was yours and Bruce’s alone.

—

Together, you approached the nursery, where Alfred had the baby in his arms. He smiled at both of you, knowing that you both had surrendered to love. “Baby Mercy eagerly waited for you, Master Bruce.”

He carefully placed the baby in Bruce's arms, mindful of her fragility. As Bruce cradled her, he felt the gentle warmth of her tiny body against his skin. Looking down at her, he noticed her unblinking gaze, so full of wonder and innocence, as if she were already trying to understand the world around her. Despite the weight of his responsibilities, a rare and tender smile adorned Bruce's face, softening the hardened lines that defined it. "Welcome home, Mercy," he murmured, feeling a rush of love and protectiveness wash over him as he held his daughter close.

Your smile grew, your eyes sparkling with joy as you watched Bruce gaze at your daughter with a softness he had never shown before. Mercy giggled, a sound that seemed to echo through the room like a gentle melody. It was as if the universe itself rejoiced at this reunion.

“I think she wants to show you something,” you smiled. 

The first vision-like memory flickered to life, blooming before Bruce. He could see himself as a distant figure, surveying the scene from the doorway, his expression a blend of wonder and amusement. He stood in a warm kitchen filled with the aroma of freshly baked cookies. Mercy, no older than five, wore a tiny apron adorned with colorful motifs. An older version of his son, Damian Wayne, was busy rolling out dough. Flour dusted the air like fairy dust as Damian orchestrated their little culinary adventure with serious intent.

“Watch, Daddy!” Mercy exclaimed, her voice a melodic chime. The two of them were collaborating on baking a batch of cookies. Damian, with all his precision, carefully measured the ingredients while his sister, in a flurry of excitement, added spoonfuls of sprinkles and chocolate chips into the mix.

“Too many!” Damian chided, suppressing a smile despite his best efforts. The kitchen was filled with laughter and the delightful chaos of sibling bonding.

The scene shifted with a swirl of color, pulling Bruce into another cherished moment from the future—a day at Wayne Enterprises. The sleek, modern building glimmered under the sun, its towering structure a symbol of the legacy Bruce had built. Inside, his daughter, now slightly older, wandered through the gleaming halls, hand in hand with her father.

“Daddy, can we go to the rooftop garden?” she asked her voice a melody of excitement. Bruce nodded, his heart swelling with pride as he watched her interact with the bustling world of business around them.

The rooftop was a breathtaking oasis, filled with vibrant flowers and greenery that you had carefully nurtured. 

Bruce and Mercy sat together on a sun-drenched bench, a picnic spread before them. 

“Did you know that if you talk to the flowers, they can grow even more?” Mercy said, leaning closer to the petals, her delicate breath almost a whisper. A soft breeze stirred the leaves.

“Are you going to be a botanist and save the world?” Bruce teased, gently ruffling her hair.

“I’ll be a hero like you, Daddy. Only with cakes and magic,” she replied earnestly, her eyes shimmering with determination. 

“That’s incredible, sweetheart. You have a gift,” Bruce said, his heart swelling with pride.

The visions filled your heart with warmth, giving you the undeniable certainty that this baby was the embodiment of yours and Bruce’s future, born from a love so deep, so profound, that not even time could erase it.

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part two.

Friday evenings are typically spent in the comfort of your flat. Normally, you’re half paying attention to reruns of whatever shitty reality TV happens to be on and half scrolling through social media to keep up with the ever-fluctuating trends of content as per your job requirements, all the while eating your body’s weight in takeaway. It’s not the dream, but it’s certainly a dream.

Tonight, you plan on amending things to include going through the pictures of Bali’s stunning beaches that Lando’s been spamming you with throughout the day, but beyond that, you have no intentions of deviating further from your norm.

You’re actually really looking forward to it. Though you’d rather cut off your own hand than admit it to his face and give him new ammunitions to tease you with, you miss Lando during the winter breaks. So much of your year is spent having him nearby━ a near-constant presence buzzing with the inability to slow down let alone stop━ and when he isn’t around, the silence seems louder. There’s no one else who manages to annoy you the way he does, and it’s just not the same without him.

To make matters worse, between your new job, Lando’s travels, and the scheduling conflicts that have arisen in turn, you haven’t had a chance to catch up with him beyond a few back-and-forth messages about his current escapades. So you really, genuinely, truly are looking forward to it.

Garrett Ward throws a wrench into things.

You have mixed opinions of Garrett. He can be very sweet, and he’s gone out of his way to make you feel incredibly welcome in your first week with the Manchester City team. He makes good conversation and seems genuinely interested in what it is you’re doing, often asking questions about your equipment and process, which is a nice change of pace from most other clients you’ve worked with in the past who rarely give two shits about anything beyond the final product. But his reputation is… concerning.

Garrett Ward is infamous in English tabloids for being a notorious womanizer.

There are several articles that come to mind, but the most damning of which is from 2019, before his trade to Manchester City, detailing with very incriminating photos how he’d been seen entering a club with two women and then leaving just a few hours later with a completely different pair. You don’t want to assume he’s the same man now as he was back then, nearly a full five years ago, but you’ve been working in the sports industry long enough to know that athletes can have anyone and if they want then they will have anyone━ there is no shortage of temptation.

And you are not arrogant enough to assume you would be the outlier.

Which makes his interest in you feel less like friendly curiosity and more like something you need to be wary of.

It’s also why━ as you make the trek through the Etihad Campus car park━ you feel dread begin to pool in your stomach as you answer your ringing phone. “Hi, Garrett.”

“Y/N!” He exclaims excitedly, sounding like he hadn’t just seen you barely ten minutes ago in the weight room. “I meant to catch you before you left, but you were outta there so fast I wasn’t able to.”

And there’s probably a reason for that, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “Yeah, I usually try to be pretty quick about it.”

There’s an awkward pause left open as if he expects you to say more, and when you don’t he clears his throat. “Erm, well, I was actually just calling to see if, perhaps, you would like to grab dinner with me this evening.”

You don’t. At all. It’s one of the last things you would like to do. There are plenty of other hellish things you would willingly rather subject yourself to before sitting down and sharing a private meal with this man━ jumping into the Thames is one of them, and letting Lando drive you around on the autobahn in his Spider is another. Both could very easily result in death, permanent disfigurement, or any other number of horrible outcomes, but neither includes Garrett.

Your hesitating silence must be an answer enough for him, because he chuckles again and adds on quickly, “No strings attached, I promise. It’ll just be two friends getting dinner.”

All you want to do is get cozy on your couch in your pajamas with a kebab from the place down the street and watch pretty people deal with their pretty people problems on TV. You don’t think that’s too much to ask for, but apparently, some higher power does.

“I suppose that’d be alright then,” you agree tentatively, speeding through the stages of grief as you mourn the initial plans of your Friday evening━ the easy, simple, comfortable plans. “Shoot me a message with the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

“Awesome!” Garrett cheers. “See you later then.”

The peaceful silence that awaits you after you hang up feels like it’s mocking you. Too bad you can’t flip off silence.

“Look, the truth is, City is looking at trading me at the end of the season if I can’t clean my act up.” Garrett’s voice is quiet as he admits the reality of his future to you, but it breaks the silence of the world around you like a gunshot. “And not just loaning me out━” he adds, a twinge of something akin to anger noting his tone, “━but fully trading me. They’re saying that my image makes things too hard for them and the only way they’ll consider re-signing me is if I can either keep my name out of the tabloids or try to clean myself up.”

In Garrett’s defense, he technically did hold true to his promise of just two friends getting dinner. Things were actually going quite well, too. The restaurant was a little more high profile than you would’ve expected for a casual meal, but that can easily be passed off as the luxurious lifestyle and expensive tastes of a pro athlete who can certainly afford it. Expenses of your meal aside, he’d been good company, asking after the ways of working in Formula One and then finding similarities in his football career that made it easy to chat about the struggles and stressors of professional sports.

But you can recognize that this is where it’s all beginning to go downhill.

He’s announced it completely out of the blue as you’re walking back to the garage where you’ve both parked your cars. On top of that, his pace slows and you’re forced to slow down as well to match it until you both eventually come to a halt in the middle of the pavement.

You feel for him, in all honesty. You understand the difficulties of contract negotiations and how easily they can fall apart. The fragility of Formula One contracts is its own special brand of tricky and you’ve seen many friends move on to other teams in the blink of an eye just as they’ve begun to settle down and make their mark where they are. You can’t say for certainty that you understand the mechanics of football contracts to the same degree, but you can imagine they have their own fragile fine print.

But the chill of a January night in Manchester is brutal, and you’ll be the first to admit that your outfit does not protect against it. You don’t really want to be having this conversation in general, because you’ve known Garrett for all of a week which makes you acquaintances at best, but you especially don’t want to be having it now, out here in the cold when all you want to do━ all you’ve wanted to do since this afternoon━ is curl up in something warm and comfortable and pretend the world outside your flat doesn’t exist for a few days.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me if I’m being honest, Garrett.”

He shrugs. “I just thought you might be able to help.”

You shove your hands in your pockets in a desperate attempt to keep your fingers from going more numb than they already are and shake your head at him. “I don’t know how exactly you think I can help you with that. I’m a photographer, not a PR officer.”

“My agent thinks it would be a good idea if I showed the media that I could hold down a steady relationship. Prove to them that I’ve changed my ways, and have matured.” He shrugs again, nonchalant despite being the one to bring this up in the first place.

“Have you?”

He makes a face, something between a flirty smirk and a suggestive wink, “Well, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Garrett.”

“Look,” he crosses his arms and levels you with a look that fills you simultaneously with more rage and annoyance than a single person has ever made you feel before. “It would just be for a couple of months, and then we could stage an amicable breakup and that would be that! It just has to be long enough to show everyone that I’m not the same as I used to be.”

You give him a look right back, hoping it conveys how appalled you are by his audacity. “Okay, but why me of all people? Christ knows you probably have a list of women in your contacts who would jump at the chance to pretend to date you for a few months.”

His face pinches up in disgust. “Yeah, but they’re all former hookups, and I mean, they’re kinda psycho about me to be fair. If I tried to end things, they’d probably go to the tabloids themselves and smear my name with the worst things they could come up with.” He shrugs again, and you’re starting to find that you hate it when he does so. “I need someone willing to just play along for the time being and who will be discreet when things are over.”

“And you think I’m that person?” You scoff. “You’ve known me for a week!”

Your voice echoes and it reminds you once again that you’re having this conversation in the middle of a random street in Manchester. It’s cold and dark, and you’ve been attempting to bite back your frustration since the moment Garrett called you. You’ve been as nice as you possibly can be for this man, shy of bending over backward to worship the very ground he walks on, and you’re so close to your limit that you think if he shrugs one more fucking time━

He shrugs. “Well, yeah, but you know how this industry works. So I know you can be trusted.”

You take a deep breath to try and retain what’s left of your quickly slipping composure, before you say, “Garrett, this goes beyond unprofessional. I could potentially get into a lot of trouble for this. You’re technically my co-worker, if not my client by proxy. It’s not a good look for me to be getting with the athletes I work with, considering my entire career is based on working with athletes.”

He makes a befuddled face as if asking what that has to do with anything. It occurs to you that he’s probably never had to worry about the ethics of hooking up with someone when most of the women who are interested in him would do everything in their power to spend a night by his side whether it’s morally just━ or legal, for that matter━ or not.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from being all cozy with that Nor-whatever guy,” he grumbles.

“What?”

“That driver,” he repeats. “You post him all over your socials, like, all the time.”

You tear your hands from your pockets and throw them up in the air, “Because that’s my job?!” The stupidity of the man before you is genuinely baffling. He’s been asking about your job all week long but the way he’s talking now makes it seem like he didn’t catch onto the fact that your entire career is centered around media and the creation of content made with the explicit intention of being shared.

“I am quite literally paid to take and post pictures of him per my contract with McLaren,” you continue. “And even if I wasn’t, he’s my best friend?! I’ve been working and traveling and spending the majority of my time with Lando since 2019 so of course I’m going to be close with him. Do you not post your mates every once in a while?”

“Yeah, but it’s different. All my mates are guys, so nobody thinks I’m dating any of them when I do it.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I cannot believe this right now. You know, for a moment, I briefly considered helping you. But you’re actually exactly the type of prick the tabloids say you are.”

He takes an intimidating step closer, and his voice drops an octave lower. “I would reconsider if I was you.” You’re not short, but Garrett isn’t either. He’s one of the tallest players on the Manchester City team, and the way you feel now with him staring you down makes you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his opponent on the pitch.

It’s fucking terrifying.

But you’re fucking livid, too.

Your jaw clenches and you bite out sharply, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he starts, “is that if you don’t help me, maybe I slip a word about something or other to my boss who slips a word to his boss who is, also, your boss, and suddenly, whoops!” He gives you a cocky smirk, so sure of himself that it makes you feel like your blood is literally boiling. “He’s not your boss anymore. In fact, nobody is your boss anymore, because your ‘slip in conduct’ was very inappropriate and made several players uncomfortable, which doesn’t look very good when trying to get jobs elsewhere in the industry.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Well,” he fucking shrugs. “When you say it like that, yeah. I guess I am.”

You cross your arms, your hands clenched into fists so tightly that you can feel your nails digging painfully into the flesh of your palms. “You’re a real bastard, you know.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, love.”

If only it were legal to kill a man━ Garrett Ward would be six feet under and picking worms from between his teeth.

You weigh your options, though. You’re not sure how much weight his word actually carries. For all you know, he could tell his boss, they could bring you in to discuss things, and then you could explain it all from your point of view. Garrett is a notorious flirt and you doubt it’s the first time he’s tried to pursue someone who isn’t interested in him. You doubt it happens very often, but it has to have happened at some point. Not to mention, his reputation regarding women is bad enough that Manchester City is already giving him an ultimatum, so you probably have a chance, and the worst-case scenario is that you amicably part ways with the team and that’s that.

But realistically there is a worse worst-case scenario, and it’s pretty damn close to what Garrett is threatening. Losing this side gig wouldn’t really be too much trouble. It would put a dent in your savings, and you’d have to be a bit better about how you ration out your groceries and other necessities around the flat, but losing your job at McLaren? Being blacklisted from the industry entirely? That’s life-destroying. You would lose everything━ all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to get where you are would be for nothing.

All because of a prick in sky blue.

“Fine,” you utter from between gritted teeth. “I’ll help you. But I won’t post you on my account. I won’t bring you home to my parents. I won’t go round to your flat and I certainly will not have you round to mind. You get one kiss to make it official to the paps, and then nothing more.” You take your own threatening step toward him, and a vindictive part inside you shines with malicious glee when he shifts ever so slightly backward. “If you try anything else, I will run to the papers and drag you through the mud worse than any of your little psycho groupies ever could.”

He scoffs, “You’d ruin your career.”

“But I’d tear you down with me,” you reply.

He takes a moment to think, staring into your eyes and weighing how serious you are. Whatever he sees staring back at him must be convincing enough because he sniffs, nods, and smirks.

“Deal.” He leans down, “I think I’ll be taking that kiss now. Make sure to really sell it, yeah?”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre

━━ a/n: i feel like i say this every time, but i am seriously blown away by how well the first part of this was received! like, seriously, thank you so much for the kind words everyone said about it! hopefully this second part lives up to the hype of the first, it's a little denser, but the events are important to establish for the rest of the story so it needed to happen!