⬛️💦

Ominis:

MC: *tries to climb into Ominis's bed in the middle of the night*

Ominis: *rolls over panicked and grabs her in confusion*

MC: Its me, Ominis it's me.

Ominis: *Still half asleep* MC?

MC: Yeah *giggles*

Ominis: *lazy smile* what are you doing?

MC: Can I have a cuddle?

Ominis: Of course, come on in *small chuckle*

Sebastian:

MC: *tries to climb into Sebastians bed in the middle of the night*

Sebastian: *rolls over casually without even opening his eyes*

MC: (?)

Sebastian: *just smiles and pulls her into him*

MC: *giggles*

Sebastian: *lazily* Hi~

~

angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader

and then they make up yayayayay

Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete

♡o。.✿ฺ Paring // Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

♡o。.✿ฺ Summary // Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.

♡o。.✿ฺ (A/n) // Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.

♡o。.✿ฺ Word Count // 1.4k

♡o。.✿ฺ Content Warnings // Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.

“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”

He nods.

“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

He nods again.

“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”

“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.

“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”

He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…

“But Mig-”

“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”

He didn’t mean it like that.

“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.

“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.

You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.

The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.

How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?

This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.

And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.

You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.

You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.

“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.

“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.

“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.

“Yeah.” You huff.

“And… how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.

You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”

“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”

Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?

“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”

“Talk about romantic.”

“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”

“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”

“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.

“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”

“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.

“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”

“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.

You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”

“Bed.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”

“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.

“You heard me.”

“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.

“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”

“(Y/n)-”

“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”

“I know.”

“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”

You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.

“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”

He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.

“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”

“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.

“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”

“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.

“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”

You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.

© Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.

Come Back

pairing : sam monroe x gn!reader | wc : 2.9k | 18+MINORS DNI

summary : No one's really there for him, except you. So after his night with one of Josh's clients, he looks for comfort in the way only you know how.

warnings : sam and user are in college, prostitution and drugs, internalized homophobia, toxic masculinity and slut shaming, hurt and comfort, smut, unhealthy coping skills, relationship is sort of toxic, sam is bipolar coded, oral ( m receiving ), degredation

a/n : sammy my beloved <3; tw for literally any of what was mentioned in the warnings.

You’re at your dorm room in bed with Sam, sat on his lap as he smokes a cigarette you stole from your step mom this morning. His eyes shut and his taps his foot along to the drums of the song playing on your stereo right now, one hand on the cigarette and the other on your waist, rubbing at you softly. You can hear one of your roommates banging at your door to try and get you to turn the music down but Sam just turns it up to drown her out.

You carefully outline his eyes with your eyeliner pencil and he’s perfectly pliant for you, letting you twist and turn his head without too much of a struggle. “Which band is this again?” You ask as you keep working.

Sam opens one of his eyes, and looks at you before grumbling, “A Perfect Circle.” He shifts his shoulders slightly and blows out his smoke before he talks again. “You almost done yet?”

“Yeah, just let me…” You murmur before you smear his eyeliner for him, when you're done, you lean in to kiss his forehead and his hands slide up to your chest. 

“Thanks babe.” Sam whispers, kissing you quickly on the lips before letting his hands slip below the hem of you shirt, deepening the kiss as he pulls you to him. You drop your eyeliner to hold him to you by the back of his head. As your tongues dance, you taste the lingering smoke in his mouth and his hands grab at your belt loops, holding you to his hips. Slowly, he starts to grind up against you, making you moan. He holds back a groan by sucking a hickey on your chest, a smirk lining his face when you gasp in surprise.

After another minute, his phone rings and he checks the caller before he all but shoves you to the side and stands up to answer it. As he starts to speak in a hushed tone over the phone, you look up at him, feeling upset that he was starting something he wasn’t finishing. You listen in closely and you know what he’s doing, his whispers of “only once” and a frustrated groan of “either 300 bucks or the weed?”

So when you hear him start to say goodbye, you loop two fingers through the top of his shorts, smirking up at him. “Sam… finish what you started.” You whine and he rolls his eyes.

“Lay off of me, I got things to do.” He says, pushing you off of him. You were used to his mood swings and moodiness, so you reach out and hold onto the hem of his shirt, trying to keep him close. “Where are you going?”

Sam groans and pulls at your hands. When you let go, so does he, so he turns to stare at you, his face inches from yours. “You can't keep me here, you know.”

“Can’t I try?” You murmur, grazing your lips against his

“You're persistent, aren't you?” He says, shutting his eyes as he runs his hands through your hair, leaning in for a long kiss. As soon as you kiss back, his grip tightens on the back of your head, allowing him to take control of the kiss.

“Don’t go meet up with Josh” You whisper softly, resting your forehead on his. “I know you need something, but maybe we can find something else.”

“You're cute but naive. We can't afford weed or anything else.” He says, his voice flat and his tone serious. “Josh doesn't have money but he does have drugs. And since I'm out of them, I need to get more.” He lean in as he moves his lips to your neck.

“But hes gonna…” You start but he cuts you off.

“He’s gonna pimp me out to some guy. Just gotta be some guy's bitch for 2 hours and I’ll get enough weed for a week. Just once, just this one time.” He murmurs, licking at your neck before he pull away, staring down at you. “I don't have any other choice. If I want to get my fix, then I do it or I don't get anything. It's my only option.”

“Just, be careful.” You murmur softly, kissing him again. “Come back here after, I'll be here waiting for you.”

“I'll be back in a few.” He says, straightening up, putting on his jacket and walking to the door. Then he pulls it open, walks out of your dorm and to Josh’s car. You can see Josh’s smarmy face from your window and he recognizes you, waving at you with a smile. You give him the finger before you wait to see Sam get in and leave.

A few hours later, the sun has disappeared and the night sky is visible. A car passes the dorm, then stops. And Sam gets out and walks up to the door, getting all the way to your room and knocking. “Y/N, are you here?” I wait a few seconds before trying again. “Y/N!”

After a second, you make it to the door and open it up. You’re just in your pajamas and your roommates are in the common room, looking over. “Sam.” You whisper breathlessly, looking him over.

“Hey.” He murmurs as he stands outside the door, visibly exhausted after what he went through. “Thanks for waiting for me.” He looks down, ashamed, knowing you saw him come out of a man's car.

“C'mon” You whisper, taking his hand and leading him over to your room and he follows you, sitting on the bed as you start to look for an extra towel and clothes for him. After a few minutes of silence, but Sam breaks it. “Do you still think less of me for what I did earlier?”

“No.” You whisper, exasperated. You drop what you’re holding and move over to him, cradling his face and kissing his cheek softly. He smiles hesitatingly, placing his hands on your hips as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. He pulls you tighter into his arms, kissing you deeply and passionately. 

Sam’s mind is all over the place. He can feel the bag of weed in his jacket pocket but all he thinks about is the shame and the mans hands as they grabbed at him. When he shuts his eyes, its like he’s back in the car, feeling the old fuck’s thick fingers pawing at him. He had his own partner already, and they tried. They didn’t want him to go. Was some weed worth this? 

As he sits, Sam starts to subconsciously tug at his clothes in discomfort. When you notice this, you get all of the supplies you gathered and sit next to him. “You should take a shower.” You say gently, before giving him another one last kiss and stand up to find a towel for him.

He gives a sad grin at you over his shoulder, taking the towel. Then he goes shower and lingers under the hot water, cleaning the stench of the other man off him and leaning against the cool tile to cry. No matter how he felt, he couldn’t cry in front of you. Then he would be proving his asshole stepdad right, he’d be some fucking sissy. He punches at the tiles to distract himself before he takes a breath and focuses on finishing up. When Sam’s done, he towels himself dry and heads back to your room, smiling when he spots you laying on your twin sized mattress listening to music with your eyes shut to bide the time until he gets back. 

Be a man. Sam thinks to himself. Be a man. He watches you for a moment before getting dressed and laying down next to you with a sigh. Be a man. Be strong. She wont love you if you’re not tough. He scoots in behind you and softly kisses the back of your neck, laying his head next to yours. “Are you mad at me?” He places a hand on your hip, drawing your body closer to his.

When you realize that he’s back you pull of your headphones and toss them across the bed. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Um…” He mutters, trying to remember what bullshit you told him about taking a breath and saying what you feel. “I have the feeling you think less of me for what I did today…” He whispers his lips lingering on the nape of your neck.

“I don’t.” You murmur, one of your hands brushing against his hand, causing him to nuzzle in closer to you. “I just don’t wanna push you do do anything you might not want to do. Sometimes… people need time before they feel comfortable being affectionate.”

“I’m not a bitch. If I wanna kiss you and touch you, I’ll fucking do it.” He growls against your neck, shutting his eyes as he leans his head into your neck, enjoying the warmth radiating off of you, his hands slide under the hem of your shirt, cool hands warming up as he rests them on your midriff. You let out a quiet hiss at his hands before you whisper.

“I care about you, Sam.” You whisper, letting him rest against you and staying still as he continues to readjust his body feeling out of place and wrong no matter how he rests against her. As he keeps moving, his frustration starts to bubble. Why wasn’t he able to just get comfortable, they had been dating for over a year, they’ve done this enough times for it to  make sense. “Sammy?” You ask quietly.

“Shut your trap! Can’t you see I’m trying to get comfortable?” He shouts before he moves away from you, facing the wall and resting his head in his hands.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Sam sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I needed the money, and that was the only way I could get it. But I feel dirty. I feel ashamed. Like I cant even look at you.” He grumbles, tears in his eyes. “I don't want you to hate me…”

“I don’t hate you.” You whisper, sitting up and crawling to his side, lifting his head to yours and kissing him gently. Instantly, he runs his fingers through your hair, hugging you to him. He closes his eyes, laying his head against your chest. 

“I'll be better. I promise I won't do any of this anymore... I just-” He sniffles, wiping his tears. “I just needed money. I didn't want to do it.”

“I know.” You say calmly, rubbing his back. “Do you feel like… emasculated?”

He stays quiet and takes a breath, trying to contain his emotions. “Yeah. I feel emasculated. I feel humiliated, disgusted with myself, dirty. It's just- I just feel so bad about myself.”

You stay silent for a moment, but slowly, he starts to turn to you. “I want to... I want to feel powerful again. I want to not feel like this anymore. I want to be in control.” He murmurs, tugging you to him again, his hands sliding up your pajama shirt as he tugs you on his lap. “Please?” He groans, leaning up to nibble on your collarbone, kissing his way up to the spot right under your ear, kissing you softly.

“Okay.” You murmur, reaching down to rub his shoulders gently. His eyes light up once you agree and he slowly kisses his way down your neck, gently biting you. His hands hold on your waist, pulling you tighter to him before he tugs your shirt off, throwing it across the room. 

“Did ‘ya know you taste really fucking sweet?” He whispers before he pulls you into a kiss, his tongue shoving its way into your mouth, hands grabbing at your waist. When he pulls away, you're both panting and he goes in again, biting at your lip and tongue, relishing in the way you jump and squeak. “You taste like mint and- uh… mint and”

“Coconut?” You offer, grinding your hips onto his, gasping as you feel his hardening member hit your thigh.

“Did I ask you?” Sam grunts as he tugs your hair back to kiss at your neck, sucking in hickeys across the base of your neck. “But yeah, coconut. Thanks babe.”

You beam with pride as he smiles, before he pulls you forward again and whispers in your ear. “You wanna make me feel in control? Wanna help me feel better? Get on your fucking knees and open your whore mouth.”

With a light push at your shoulders you get up and sit betweens Sam’s legs at the edge of your bed. You watch wordlessly as he unzips his pants, and stands to let his baggy shorts drop to his ankles. Once they pool on the ground, he sits and guides your head to him and you take a breath as you look at the sheer size of him, your mouth watering. You move on your own, your hands moving to give him a few quick strokes and watching as his eyes narrow at you and his chin juts out.

“What, you scared? Need me to hold your hand? Tell you how its done? We both know you’ve done this before, slut. I bet I’m not even in the first 20, probably not even the first 40.” He hisses at you, before you lean in and lick his tip, your eyes still looking up at him. Slowly, you start to slide him in your mouth and that earns you a groan, one of his hands, covered in a bunch of bracelets rushes to your head, gently rubbing your head as you ease him into your mouth.

You want to smile at him, but you focus on letting your mouth adjust, your nose resting against his trimmed pubes and the end of his cock hitting the back of your throat. No matter how mean he got with his words, his actions showed how he felt. He never rushed you, he wanted to make sure you were okay. And for a moment, you shut your eyes, letting him rub your scalp before you start to pull back, hollowing your cheeks as you find your rhythm. 

“Fuck.” Sam groans, his head falling back as he lets out a breath, only for his breathing to pick up. His eyes screw shut as he continues to rub your hair gently. “Perfect. Keep going.” He says breathlessly, and you watch him through half-lidded eyes. You hum and his hand grabs your hair tightly as his hips roll into your mouth on their own, set into motion by feeling of the vibrations on his cock. You keep moving, picking up speed as you listen to Sam’s groans and pants, and when you feel him start to tense up, you pull him out of his mouth. As you start stroking him until he cums on your face in thick ropes, you smile as you listen to his drawn out moans and gasps for air, giggling to yourself as the warm fluid hits your face and bare chest. Sam’s head is thrown back and you can see he’s smiling up at the ceiling, coming down from his high.

Once he’s drained, he lifts your chin and taps two of his fingers against your lips, smirking once you take them in your mouth. “Make sure you get them wet enough. Don’t need my little slut crying about how I didn't stretch them enough.”

Or maybe..

so like- miguel in suits and office wear would be my weakness honestly, ughhh

CW: 18+ MDNI, ghoap x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Can’t stop thinking about having to listen to the two bearish tenants in the apartment next door fucking nasty style whenever they’re home.

Every time you’ve passed them outside they’ve been nice enough- well, the one you’ve properly met is, but whenever he stops you to chat, you can’t help but vividly recall the way he fucks his big, brooding partner like a man starved each night.

Sadly, it’s hard to find the words to ask an imposing guy like him if he can go have sex in a hotel or something, unable to find a polite way to tell him that he sounds like an elk in heat when he fucks- so you don’t. The expectant glint in his eyes told you that even if you did manage to bring it up, it would only spur him on.

The distinct and audible shuffle of moving furniture one morning as you slip on your coat to head out for work makes you hopeful they’ve decided to relocate, and as your thoughts drift later throughout your tedious shift you find yourself praying for someone nice and quiet to occupy the vacant spot; your work-addled brain dreaming up possible new tenants and their imaginary backstories. It’s nice.

After a tiring day you’re more than ready to fall into the first peaceful sleep you’ve had in months, however, to your horror, you find out they’ve moved their bed into the room directly across from your own, Their headboard knocking into the thin wall behind you with a brutish vigour you had previously thought impossible for them to top.

Covering your ears with your pillow and rolling onto your side doesn’t do much to stop the low yearn pooling in your gut when your bed is being rhythmically shaken by their momentum- nor does the shocking sound of your name being spilled out messily in between their own.

How do you think Sebastian, Ominis, and Garreth would react to F!MC face sitting😏

Face Sitting Headcannons

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader; Sebastian Sallow x f!reader; Garreth x f!reader

Warnings - 18+, oral sex

Sebastian

he would be tasting you like a starved man

his fingers would be leaving bruises on your hips and backside while his hands roamed your body

he would be rough and teasing, running his tongue through your folds and maybe even tugging gently with his teeth

when you would grind yourself against his face he would obediently move his tongue to your clit, flattening it against your nub and finding just the right pace for you

he would be so worked up that he would have pre-cum everywhere when the two of you were done

he would moan, sending perfect vibrations through you when you pull on his hair

he would love every minute of being nearly suffocated by your thighs

Ominis

he would take his time and be slow with you

he would really want you to beg and would love when you rutted yourself against his lips and nose

he would tell you how good you smell and how much he loves your taste

he would caress your thighs before stretching his hands beside his own head, waiting your fingers to hold onto his

he would leave wet, open-mouthed kisses over your cunt, sucking lightly on your clit when he makes his way there

he would be working hard to drive you crazy and definitely take you to the edge a few times before letting you cum

he would lap up your cream thinking about how wet and soft you were going to be for his cock when he was finished with you

Garreth

he would look up at you tenderly before hauling your hips the rest of the distance to his mouth

he would focus his hands on stroking up and down your thighs and legs to make you sensitive all over

he would close his eyes and lick long strips from your hole to your clit, lingering just enough to make you whine

he would try to tease you, but be unable to help himself from giving you what you wanted

his favorite thing to do is take the pressure off of your clit to fuck you with his tongue, so he could taste as much of you as possible

his spit combined with your slick would coat his tongue for the perfect smooth rhythm had he in mind for your nub to make you cum

Ominis being an unbothered bitch

MC is the only one able to talk him into trouble φ(*￣0￣)

Don’t give me the anti venom, thanks. I’m perfectly contempt with this snake bite. 🐍

Come! Join me in the thirst trap!!!

(All characters aged up and well into adulthood)

lockjaw | j.t three

masterlist | help me fund my top-surgery?

paring: hybrid puppy!jayce talis x f!reader

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

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

words: 7.3k

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

part one | part two | part three | part four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The pair shared a glance as she read your notes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday was the day you were bringing him home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even his own freedom was not his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sooner you removed Jayce from this building the better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be mindful. Let him come to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the vision that caught your eye was Jayce.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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