#something something can't go a day without thinking of these two

[enhani-ki]

my biggest opp - reader x ni-ki part ii

warnings: smut, power play, cursing, etc.

read part one

you assumed that after having sex with ni-ki, your biggest opp, it would be awkward and uncomfortable…

but never this empty.

you arrive at your office monday morning to find your inbox startlingly free of his scathing one-liners. there's no "nice dress. shame about the brain." no "can you actually type without making typos?"

his favorite mockery is gone, somehow leaving you strangely bereft.

you tapped your pen against the wooden surface of your desk, scanning for any hint of his sabotages. the folder you thought you'd need for the managerial position, his file on your "possible fraudulent activities" are also nowhere to be found.

because according to him, you fucked him so good that he destroyed every single thing he had that could ruin you.

relief flares that he stopped, of course. but unlike him, you still do your best to make his life miserable, leaving yourself doused in guilt — feeling like an asshole.

an entire weekend passed. you swore you weren't dying for his banter, and yet whenever your phone buzzes, you leap out of your skin.

nishimura riki: stop messing with my report. are you fucking insane?

minutes passed.

nishimura riki: you must be missing me.

your lips twitched into a smirk. hell if you know how to respond.

i didn't do it, dumbass.

really? that's the reply? he'd know you were lying (or worse, honest). the cursor kept blinking in your reply box, taunting you. you typed, erase, typed again, erase — you racked your brain, thinking of a good comeback.

you: you're so stupid. also, my life has been so peaceful without you. please stay right where you are.

nishimura riki: i can come by your house and make your life hell again. if you want.

of course you want it. you'd kill him… or you'd kill for him to come over right now but shit, even the line between those urges were already starting to blur.

you spent your lunchtime writing a status report. your fingers snapping across the keys but your mind drifts to that shameless first night with him.

the night where you wrestled with him for that fraud file of yours. the heat of his breath when you kissed him, when it finally landed on your skin…

you remember all of it. every time you lean over to pull a document from the printer, you imagine the wide arc of ni-ki's arms behind you, the precise angle of his jaw, his thick lips devouring you while telling you how much he hated you for existing…

it's all fucking there.

and as if reading your thoughts, your phone lit up again.

nishimura riki: i want to see what i'm missing.

you: fuck you. you literally work five feet from me.

nishimura riki: and new skirt? goddamn

your stomach clenched. so he… noticed? he noticed your above the knee with the slit at the side that shows just enough thigh to be questionable but still professional according to the office dress code new skirt?

you: your point?

nishimura riki: you look good and i want to see it up close.

a shiver runs down your spine. ni-ki's words became so direct, so suggestive, you can't help but to swallow hard and bite your lip. you sighed, immediately closing the report window before anyone could see you blush.

you check your company messenger during break. you noticed nishimura riki's presence: his avatar pops into view with the status "ready to crush it."

how fucking pretentious.

you just hoped ni-ki would do something back so you could stop feeling guilty whenever you sabotage him, then it would all go back to hell. the hell you not-so-secretly love. the hell he seemed to have loved before — and now forgotten.

@you @ni-ki i expect great results from the two of you. focus on the work, not drama.

you sat on your couch, sipping a cup of lukewarm green tea when your phone buzzes.

nishimura riki: we're stuck together for the next couple days.

you smirked when you realized how he can't stop texting you. you plop your head back against the cushion, totally interested.

you: yeah. happy?

nishimura riki: ecstatic.

ni-ki signs off with a kiss emoji, making you scowl in disgust and throw your phone onto the cushion. he'll see how you haven't responded and he'll definitely laugh about it tomorrow.

you came into the office projecting confidence the next morning. ni-ki is already there, beating you in punctuality. he's leaning back in his chair, scrolling through his phone but smiled immediately when your eyes met.

"you're late," he drawls.

"shut up," you fired back, tossing your bag under the table. you saw another folder you've been dreading. ni-ki's opened it already— hands off, though.

"fuck... i couldn't sleep," he said, casually looking at your eyes.

who asked? is what you would've said but instead, it's: "why's that?" you leaned in, "last i heard, sleeping without protection was your specialty."

he nodded slowly. his urge of choking you to death using his necktie suddenly crossed his mind, like it always does whenever you talk back.

he never followed through, of course. because every time he pictures it, the ending is him fucking you instead. he saw you submitting not because of trust, but because you can't help it.

ni-ki sighed and quickly pulls your chair close to him, making your pulse quicken. "hmm, what do you mean 'heard'? we both know you know that for a fact," he teased, his hand trailing up to squeeze your thigh. "also, did i ever told you how bad you needed practice?"

heat blooms across your cheeks. didn't he say you fucked him good? this fucking guy keeps challenging you — mentally and sexually.

you scoffed and opened your mouth to retort but your boss already knocked on the door, barging in to start the meeting.

the day isn't even done, yet you and ni-ki have exchanged more messages than you have with anyone else all week:

nishimura riki: did you catch the way that idiot glanced at your legs during the meeting? that mf is gonna keel over later once you unplug your laptop.

that 'idiot' is notoriously stiff when it comes to 'office decorum.' the thought of him being flustered at your skirt is thrilling, but:

you: you know i'd rather see how you react when i ask you to take off my skirt.

nishimura riki: come to my office then, i'll show you.

you stood up as soon as everyone's too busy to notice your absence. you opened ni-ki's door without so much as a knock. the tall guy is leaning against the edge of his desk, shirt already untucked, tie loose — completely losing his patience.

you walk towards him. he traces a finger along your jaw, tilting your face up, brushing his thumb over your sexy lips.

"show me," you whispered, sliding both hands flat against his chest.

ni-ki leaned in. "hmm, watch me," he replied, turning you gently by the hips, pulling your ass against his crotch — where you can feel the rigid outline of his cock through his trousers. you pressed yourself back, grinding on him as his hand tightens on your hip.

"we have a meeting at six, right?" he murmurs in your ear. "let's get you naked under this skirt."

"i already am…"

unbelievable.

"you really are a fucking tease, huh?"

your breath hitched when you feel his tip nudging against your folds. ni-ki slowly slid inside your welcoming heat — his cock was so big and hard, making your knees buckle as you can practically feel him rearranging your guts without even moving.

ni-ki moaned, "oh, y/n—" biting his lower lip before pressing one more searing kiss to your neck. "i could stay like this all day," he said.

you let out a shaky gasp, head dropping forward with a whimper. your fingers reached back, grabbing his hands — his big, warm hands that are locked around your hips. "ni-ki…"

"let's not sin so much today," he groaned softly, hips giving one teasing rock that makes your whole body jolt before he pulls his cock out. he stepped back and adjusted your skirt like a gentleman — making you feel full and hollow in the same instant.

that same afternoon, you decided to head to the break room for water. you stop short when you saw ni-ki with the boss' niece, who came to visit the office.

she's laughing, batting her eyelashes at him while grinning so hard. you didn't mean to eavesdrop, but she mentioned something about wanting him to show her around — and that guy just casually folds his arm around her shoulders.

"look at you, you social climber," you interrupted, clapping your hands slowly, it echoed like a gunshot.

ni-ki glances at you lazily over the girl's shoulder. the niece looks startled, she gave you both a sheepish laugh before excusing herself.

"how long have you two been planning world domination?"

"are you jealous?" he asked, chuckling as he drags out a chair for himself. "'cause i'm telling you that's pathetic."

"wha—?"

"don't worry, y/n. it's just been few days, i'll make sure to find some time for my favorite brat."

you scoffed, grabbing your water a little too aggressive. "wow... you sound so proud of being passed around like a party favor."

"passed around?" he repeated, raising a brow. "jealousy already doesn't suit you and now you're possessive too?"

you shot him a sharp glare but he just leans back in his chair, spreading his legs like he's offering you a seat.

ni-ki sighed, "fine, i'll come over tonight," he declared so casually, it made your jaw drop.

"excuse me?"

"you heard me." he stretched and yawned. "you don't have to agree. i've already made up my mind."

"you're crazy."

he stands up, brushing past you as he grabs a protein bar "leave the door unlocked for me, okay?" he whispered, leaning in to give your cheek a quick kiss.

the sound of your skins slapping were obscene. ni-ki's breaths were heavy, his muscles tensed doing his best holding back from losing control. his necklace kept bouncing against his chest every time he slid in and out of your wet cunt. he hit it deep and slow, making your toes curl.

you looked down and watched at where your bodies met.

"oh, my–" he groaned when he felt your walls flutter around his cock. "this feels so fucking insane right now."

your arms tightened around his shoulders. "you haven't fucked me in days," you breathed out, looking up at him, admitting, "i was so stressed out."

"yeah, i know," he replied, "and look how mean you've gotten."

"kiss me..." you asked shyly — too quiet for ni-ki who was busy thrusting, far gone in the rhythm he was chasing to even hear it.

frustrated, you reached up and grabbed his hair — hard. your fingers got tangled so deep in the roots of his bleached strands, yanking him down without warning so you could force his mouth closer.

"ah—f-fuck—!" ni-ki hissed, jolting from the sharp tug. his hips slowed down for a second.

his palm slapped your arm away, the sound echoed a little loud in the room. it wasn't as harsh as what you did, but it was firm because he was hurt. a very clear response to pain.

your eyes slightly widened when he snatched your wrist, flipping you like you're a dead weight. one second you were just looking up at him — now, your face was pressed into the pillow, ass up. ni-ki's hand stayed flat on your lower back, keeping you in place.

his fingers dove straight into your hair, fisting it tight, pulling your head up until your back arched and your spine hit his chest. it forced a cry out of your throat, you quickly hold on to the headboard for your own control.

"it hurts, right?" he muttered, brows furrowed. his voice sounded pissed. "you dumbass."

your mouth parted to argue but you were too breathless and stunned at how fast he turned the tables on you.

ni-ki let go of your hair roughly. your cheek sank back into the pillow. his hands slid down to your hips, spreading you wider. it was careless and he moved confident as he positioned you just how he wanted.

your moans started crumbling into soft sobs — not from pain but from realizing how you weren't too used to getting caught off guard, let alone losing control.

your thighs started shaking, your breath had gone shallow, and ni-ki noticed it right away.

"shit—" he cursed under his breath, the movement of his hips started faltering before slowly pulling out from your pussy. he leaned down to kiss the back of your neck gently. "can you sit up?"

you nodded weakly. he helped you, pulling you gently onto his lap, seating you over one of his thighs while holding you carefully. "did i scare you?" he asked, worried and cautious.

"no...not at all." you replied, shaking your head in assurance.

ni-ki sighed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. he place a long kiss your temple, "i'm sorry, y/n." he continued, "do you want to stop?"

you sniffled and pulled back to look him in the eye like you're a little offended, "hell no."

a small grin broke across his face. he's amused, relieved, but mostly turned on all over again. ni-ki buried his face into your neck, laughing softly. "good," he murmured, lips dragging across your skin.

"ride me."

each movement felt better than the last. his cock dragged against the deepest part of you, his blunt tip kept hitting your cervix, making you gasp in pleasure.

ni-ki sat back against your headboard, his thighs spread wide, letting you straddle him fully. his hands never stopped moving – gripping your waist or holding your nape, the other catching the bounce of your breast. his thumb grazes over your nipple, and sometimes, he'd lean in to suck it, groaning at the way your pussy clenched in response.

his hair was messy. he was so loud – groaning through his gritted teeth – that goddamn chrome necklace catching the low light as he tip back his head to moan.

you can't stop staring. you can't stop running your fingers through his hair, brushing the strands back, or cupping his jaw just to see his face better.

"ni-ki..." you whispered.

his eyes blinked open, resting his forehead against yours.

you were moving fast and steady, sinking down on his dick over and over again while your bodies stayed too close — noses brushing, stealing each other's air.

"you– you're so handsome," you breathed out, barely even realizing you said it.

"me?"

"yes," you whispered. "you."

he grinned and leaned forward after hearing that double down. ni-ki gave you a messy, open-mouthed kiss, your fingers threading through his hair again as your hips rocked in desperate circles.

you pulled back to suck on his jaw next, under his ear, then down to his neck — biting softly, marking him. you wanted to leave something there. something that would remind him how much you wanted to do this over and over again.

now, you're sitting in the center of your mattress, blinking stupidly slow as you try to process just how many times he made you cum. "g– god," you mumbled, "i think my spine broke."

ni-ki huffs a soft laugh, still catching his breath too, resting his head on his arm while his other hand would caress your stomach or squeeze your boobs. "you're fine... it's hurting because you are still talking too much."

"o– ow..."

ni-ki sat up and hugged you. placing soft kisses to your shoulder, your neck, and then to your temple. "fine, let's have it checked later. just lay down with me for now."

you nodded, laying down, pressing your back against his chest. you felt his smile against your skin, smug and fond. ni-ki palmed your breasts again... he can't stop touching you even if he wanted to.

"mm, you're such a baby," he murmurs against your hair, "what happened to the terrifying monster who's always mean and yells at me in meetings?"

"dead," you replied quietly, leaning against him. "she died."

ni-ki chuckled again after seeing you blush. he grinned before peppering kisses on your cheek again and he doesn't say it but he adores this messy, clingy, soft version of you.

the one only he ironically gets to see.

you sniffled, pressing your face to his neck. "ni-ki..."

"what?"

"i wanna see bisco."

"oh..."

"i– i wanna see your dog," you sniffled again, voice sleepy and soft. "even if he hates me…"

ni-ki smiled and whispered, "okay, baby." brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead, "i'll take you to see bisco as soon as he gets home."

later after a doctor's consultation, the dog-sitter also dropped off bisco. you're already in his apartment, in his shirt he basically forced you into wearing.

"wait–!" ni-ki reached out to get bisco but it ran towards to where you were. "bisco!" you gasped, eyes lighting up as you rushed toward the tiny white ball of fur that sprinted right away from you.

"bisco, come on! we brought you snacks!" you tried coaxing, crawling on your knees to look under the couch, but the little thing lunged out and bit your wrist – not hard but more of a warning chomp – "fuck– ow!"

ni-ki leaned against the wall, arms crossed and smiling like a proud dad watching the chaos unfold. "i told you he's dramatic."

you didn't care. you kept following bisco around the room, letting him bite, bark while you giggled and chased him with unearned affection... which ni-ki found strange because before, you probably would've fought with that small dog, until it fears you for rejecting you.

finally, bisco ran out of energy and jogged towards his bed, completely ignoring you like a diva.

you pouted and walked back to ni-ki, dragging your feet like you'd just been dumped. "why is it sweet to everyone but me, huh?" you mumbled, melting into his waiting arms.

ni-ki laughed and tugged you in, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. "i don't think he hates you, y/n," he murmured, voice soft as his hand roamed slowly down your ass. "give it some time."

"or he knows you've been giving someone else all your attention." you added, rolling your eyes. "right? i knew it, he's jealous."

his lips found yours. "no," kiss. "he's not," kiss. "jealous," kiss. the kisses are so different from before. no clashing of teeth, no busting a lip open, or bruising... it feels like forgiving each other.

and usually, this groping and kissing would spiral into sex, but today, you both weren't even thinking about it. there's just the need to be close, not just to get off.

ni-ki was so distracted by you that he doesn't even know when did he stopped trying to win in everything.

he had plans too, you know? he thought about getting his lick back but whenever you come around, the noises in his head disappears, the urge to get even fades, and suddenly, there's nothing even left to fight for.

he pulls back just enough to see your face. you blinked up at him, tired and sleepy, your lips were still swollen from all the nonstop kissing.

but still, you're so goddamn kissable.

you gave ni-ki a kiss again when you saw him staring – once, twice – "i gotta go," you whispered eventually.

"this early?"

"yeah, i'm getting hungry."

"we can cook–"

"stop–"

"–y/n..." he interrupted, cutting you off. ni-ki opened his mouth then closed it before clearing his throat. "no. nothing. just…" he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. his eyes kept darting down to the floor like he couldn't believe he was about to say it. "just take care, okay?"

you tilted your head, "t–thanks…"

what the hell?

you're still mean and you still drive him insane, ni-ki took a deep breath – he swore he hates being this kind of guy but fuck it.

now or never.

"do you wanna have dinner with me?" he asked. he said it a little too fast, it's obvious that he was shy. "outside."

"huh?" you blinked. "you mean like–"

"yeah," he said, pressing his lips together, swallowing thickly. "like a–"

"...like a date."

ni-ki braces himself for the teasing and for your usual sharp reply. he knows you'll probably laugh in a few seconds but right now, you're just staring at him, eyes wide in surprise and that alone slightly gave him a little hope.

and he thinks, if this is how he loses, then fine.

let's let it be you.

a/n: my biggest opp 3k notes special! thank you so much for all the love and good comments. the first part came out on march 1 so it's been three months... there's so much (an understatement lmao) drafts for this and lots of scenes did not make it. as you can see, it's not so much focused on the smut and i honestly don't know if anyone will see this or if this part two this is good enough.

i teared up writing this T_T burning blue - mariah the scientist

tagging: @asaheyow @n4mh0pe @sunghoonsarmpit

[lymtw]

hi!! i love your fics theyre highkey my fav rereads🤭idk if youre taking requests but if you were, could you possibly do a hurt/comfort fic with toji and shy reader where shes mad/upset with him? hope youre having a great day btw!

A/N: Five years later... 🫩👍 I'm sorry this took so long. I really, really appreciate your support 🫶 I hope this turned out at least okay, it's been a minute since i've finished any writing 🥲 Anyway, I hope you're having an amazing day :))

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji and His Shy Girl

It's been a week since you and Toji have spoken, not for lack of effort or opportunities, but because the one sided attempts are not corresponded. It's hard to think about him, it's hard to read his words through your screen and see his name flash briefly, before your phone does its job of sending him to voicemail.

'Maybe we shouldn't be together, Toji. If me simply trying to talk to you is such a burden... I don't know if I should keep trying.'

You said this to him a week ago. You clicked the door shut and he sped off in his car, bleary-eyed, brimming with rage and regret the whole way home. He couldn't get the sound of your voice out of his head—the cracks, the occasional sharp inhales that came with your suppressed emotions. Even in the moment, he knew it was so, so wrong for you to be looking the way you did.

The instant he got home, all hell broke loose. His fists were clenched as he treaded towards his bedroom, and as if possessed by the force of a natural disaster, he tore apart his room—demolished it—throwing things blindly, uncaring if they broke beyond repair. The picture he keeps on his nightstand of the two of you was not safe. The encased memory was thrown with all the strength he has, at the wall, the frame instantly falling apart and the glass shattering to pieces.

He couldn't stop, it all hurt so much. His chest burned, his head was pounding, he felt like he couldn't breathe, and once there was nothing left to throw, nothing left to break, he finally broke down—wholly. Harsh, uncontrollable sobs racked his entire body as he sat there in the debris—the aftermath of losing his mind over you. Barely any sound came of it, his voice was shot, courtesy of the tormented screams that accompanied his meltdown.

This all happened a week ago. You won't talk to him and these days have been hell without your company. You won't respond to his good morning messages, and if he asks to meet up, you always have something to do. He calls you whenever he can, but you don't pick up. You're avoiding him like it's your job.

Everything feels pointless without you around, his little sunshine, the reason he wakes up motivated every morning, the light of his life. His routine has been altered in the worst way. It's work, home, work, home, and he absolutely detests it because if it weren't for that damned day, he would be with you, smothering you with the borderline overwhelming love he holds for you, making you laugh and watching you get flustered over the words he whispers in your ear. He wants it back—all of it. He can't let you go, it would break him entirely.

You don't want to let go of this love you have for Toji, either. You miss being in the warmth of his embrace, and you miss the sound of his voice, and the way he calls you 'sweetheart' when you're not focusing on him. You see every single one of the messages he sends you and the phone calls.

Good morning, baby.

Morning, sweetheart. Make sure to eat breakfast and lunch. One meal isn't enough.

Saw those fields of flowers you point at all the time on my way home. I miss you.

Baby, will you talk to me, please?

[Missed Call]

And you cry, because all you want to do is respond to every one of those messages and hear his voice again, but something always stops you. The memory of when he snapped at you. The sound of his voice—cutting and utterly spirit crushing. The furrow of his eyebrows that made you feel like everything you did was wrong. It hurts to think about the whole situation, and all these notifications only serve as reminders. Reminders of the way you immediately wilted when the door shut, chest heaving as you cried your way to bed and then to sleep, wondering what you did to deserve being lashed out at.

You're lying in bed, scrolling through your phone when he calls again. The instant you see his contact picture, your heart plummets to your stomach, but an irrepressible giggle escapes you. The picture on your screen... it's kind of blurry because he was chasing you and you were laughing so hard that you couldn't hold the phone steady, but you love it. You love the man in the picture, you love that he can make you smile through memories, even during tough times.

"Baby?" You hear through the speakers of your phone. A lump immediately forms in your throat and you painfully swallow. "Baby, can you hear me?" He tries again.

"Yeah, I'm here," you respond, quietly.

"Holy fuck, doll. Can I... Are you busy? Are you doing anything right now?"

"No, i'm home," you mumble.

"Can I come see you?"

"Toji..." you start, your tone conveying what you haven't even said yet. Your uncertainty.

"Baby, we have to talk. It's been a week and-- This can't be it. Please, just... just five minutes. Five minutes and i'll go."

You know it won't be five minutes. You can't force a solution out in five minutes—not a sincere one at least. Some part of you is soothed by the sound of his voice, regardless of how frantic and desperate he sounds. That's your love right there, and no matter how much hurt lingers from this whole dilemma, there's nothing you can do about your heart's response to him. So you open a door for him.

"Okay, Toji. I'll be here waiting for you."

"Thank you, pretty girl. I'll be there in a few. Love you."

There's a heavy, tense pause. Neither of you has hung up the phone, because something hasn't been done yet and he knows you know what he wants to hear. It would be enough for him to believe that you haven't forfeited. It would make him feel even the slightest bit of relief if you said those words he's been aching for.

"I love you, too, Toji," you utter, hanging up a couple seconds after.

Toji would be bouncing off the walls if he wasn't in such a hurry to get to you. He's been deprived of any form of love from you for a week and he was starting to go crazy, but hearing you say those words was all he needed for now.

Twenty something minutes later, you get a text from him, letting you know that he's outside. Your heart is in your throat, your stomach keeps flipping, and yet you use all the strength you have to get out of bed to meet him. Though you decide to take your time to get to your front door, you find that you're still there too soon, no time left to mentally prepare yourself for what is about to happen. With a final deep breath, you turn the lock, twist the doorknob, and open the door.

There Toji stands, hand suspended in the air with your spare key pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He steps back instinctively when you step aside from behind the door.

"I uh... I wasn't sure if you'd be okay with me using it, but you were taking a bit, so I thought maybe you'd want me to come in and we can talk inside or... I don't know."

He's rambling, there's a light stubble on his face, he's smiling at you like he always does—like you're his everything. Him being there doesn't actually process in your mind until he speaks up again.

"Hi, baby," he says, softly, observing you like you're some majestic painting hung up in a museum. Your eyes well up and it feels like there's a red-hot metal sphere lodged in your throat. "You're a saint for letting me come here and see you, you know that?"

Out of habit, you nod and mumble out a small, "yeah."

"I'm sorry, doll," he says, reaching for your hands to hold them. He barely manages to grab them, get a feel for your soft skin after so long, before you're pulling them away from him. "No, come on," he pleads, grasping your hands again. "Please? Please, look at me."

"You can't talk to me like that, Toji," you utter, voice unsteady because you're not used to having to stand up for yourself against the one who loves you like it's his life source.

"I know. I know that, baby, and I'm so fucking sorry," he says, nearly tripping over his words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of the shit I said. I was having a bad day, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I don't know what the hell got into me, but please..." he mumbles, bringing your hands up to his lips, pressing weightless kisses on your fingers and knuckles. "Please, I love you, you have to believe me."

"You said..." you inhale sharply, doing all you can to get through this without choking on your emotions. "...you said you didn't have time to listen to me talk about nonsense, and that you wanted peace and quiet for once. Isn't... Isn't that all you get from me?"

"No tears," he says, warm palms moving up to cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the crystals that glide down them. "No tears," he repeats, softer this time. "This is gonna get worked out, my sweet girl. I swear."

"I don't know how you want me to be," you admit, your voice wavering. "And I don't have the ability to read minds. You acted like everything was fine when you texted me, and then when you got here..." You let out a shaky breath, your hold on your emotions slipping. "I don't want to be upset with you, anymore, but i-i'm trying... It's not right."

It's as if someone is jabbing at his chest over and over again, relentlessly, even when his skin starts to bruise and little pinpricks of blood begin to appear. He hates seeing you this way, especially when he knows he's the reason for why you're hurt this bad. He wants it to stop and for this enormous raincloud above both of you to just dissipate.

"Come here," he says, low, almost inaudible. His hands lower, arms making contact with your sides. It's been too long since he's held you, yet, pulling you in feels as natural as breathing.

Your hands come up to rest on his abdomen, keeping him at a distance. It feels unnatural, because you're so used to letting him handle you like you're a stuffed animal, pulling you around when you're adventuring together and picking you up just because he feels like it. Your mind immediately clouds with guilt at your denial of his embrace, you can't even meet his eyes, opting to look down at where your hands are.

"Please don't," he says, his voice so soft that it makes your chest feel tight again. He grabs ahold of your wrists, just to have some sort of contact with you. His grip is almost entirely loose and you're in control, he won't move until you pull your hands away. "I'm not gonna hurt you like that again."

You love him and you know he needs this—holding you in his arms, your confirmation that it's all going to be okay. You've said it before and the words have become one of his greatest comforts. What could be so bad when you tell him that it'll all turn out just fine?

"We've been apart for too long. A week shouldn't have gone by like this... and, fuck, I know it's my fault. I don't blame you for not wanting to see me, but... please, baby." His thumbs brush the insides of your wrists, eyes never leaving the sadness of your face, regardless of whether you look at him or not. He'll take this over not getting to see you at all, any day.

"Sweetheart."

You sniff, unmoving for a few more seconds. Your heartbeat is thrumming wildly in your ears, almost suffocating you with its relentlessness. It's all you hear, words lost in a spiral of ongoing silence. You still don't look at him when you finally pull your hands away, but you can feel his heavy, unwavering attention on you.

You're glad he doesn't wait for you to give him the green light to pull you in, because you have nothing to say at the moment, and it would be another test of patience. Instead, the second your hands are balled up at your sides, he moves at the speed of a lightning strike, your body colliding with his in an almost aggressive manner—there's an audible thump. His body heat mingles with the cologne on his shirt, the smell coiling around you and rushing through your nose with every breath you take. The feeling is familiar—love, safety, comfort—a second home, all wrapped up in your favorite person.

His hands scrunch up the back of your shirt like he's afraid you'll push him away again. "Baby," he mumbles, his voice almost inaudible. "Don't disappear like that again." A soft breath is expelled from his chest, riddled with the genuine fear he felt that he would never get to see you again.

"I know it's unfair of me to say this. I was an asshole and you were hurt, but, doll... I thought you were leaving me." There's a pause. Toji stares at the ground behind you, his hands deepening the creases he made on your shirt due to his unfaltering grip. "I don't want that."

"I'm not," you respond, heart shaking. "That day... it felt like you didn't even want to see me and you only came over because I asked not because you wanted to." The familiar ache in your chest stirs slightly, but you give it your all to get everything out in a steady and clear manner. "You can tell me you're tired, Toji. That you want to rest in the comfort of your own home, and I'll understand. I don't want to be another cause of stress for you."

It pains him to hear that because you're the one who keeps him sane, the one he thinks about when he settles into bed but can't get to sleep, the first person to know that he's still alive in morning, the one who has made him feel so safe, that he feels no shame when he occasionally calls to confirm that he's still loved by you.

"You're not," he simply murmurs. "It's not true."

"You don't have to worry about protecting my feelings."

His arms loosen around you, the back of your shirt wrinkled but freed from his clutches. Your heart is beating too fast, attempting to leave your chest. Now you're standing up straight, doing your best to not avert your gaze from the man before you.

"You're not a burden to me. Okay?" He says, and you want to believe him because of the way he's looking at you, like he's searching your eyes for even the smallest bit of confidence from you about the fact. "Say it."

The words are stuck, it's visible. Your lips twitch, but your voice doesn't progress. You just look at him, feeling the sadness seep into every part of you.

"You're not a burden to me. I need you to get that through your pretty head, right now," he says, only to feel his own heart skip a beat at your reaction.

"Sorry," you mumble, unable to instantly straighten out the curl of your lips.

In this moment, Toji knows that everything is going to be okay. He hasn't heard you laugh in a week, and though it was only a small, congested giggle, he savors it along with your inability to regain your bearing, like it's his last sip of water while he's stranded in the desert.

"Gets you every time, huh?" He says, his own faint smile emerging.

'Right now', a habitual phrase of his that is meant to comfort you. You've told him before that not everything can be fixed or healed in an instant—things don't work that way—but he never backs down. You've translated it into something akin to a bandage—the words are meant to cover you while you take the time to fully and properly heal. The joy you find in hearing them is a small beginning.

"It's funny," you respond, taking in his amused little grin. God, you missed his handsome face and the way he looks at you like everything about you makes perfect sense to him.

"My impatience is funny to you?" He teases, loving the way you press your lips together before proceeding to nod. He can't even be playfully offended, too entranced by the way you're actually smiling at him. He sighs through his nose and just watches you—admires you for a couple seconds, and when you start nervously shifting on your feet, he pulls you closer to him, his hands on your lower back as your body presses against his once more.

"Can you just say it, please? For me?" He murmurs, recognizing every one of the stars in your eyes. Though he thinks it's a tragedy to have gone a week without this view, he'll make up for lost time by creating new constellations.

"I don't know," you say, softly—filler words, your brain short circuits whenever he looks at you like that.

"For me, baby," he pleads once more. "Just wanna hear you say it."

You hum, unsure of whether you can say something you don't entirely believe. You want to make him happy, you want things to be better, you want to believe what he said—what he wants you to repeat to him, but it's hard. Damage is easy to inflict and hard to heal. It won't go away immediately, no matter how much you love the person who is trying to fix their mistake.

"I don't know-"

"Please?" he blurts.

"Toji, I don't-"

"Pretty please?" he cuts again, seeing the way your seriousness falters like before. Your laugh finds his ears once more, a sound he just wants to keep hearing. The sound embraces him. "With a cherry on top?" he adds, a sly little grin on his lips.

It's getting harder and harder to turn him down. He's precious, he's trying, and you cherish his effort. It's not going to kill you to just say it.

You sigh, "I'm not a burden."

"To who?" He questions, seeking elaboration from you.

"To you."

"Damn right," he says, proud. "We'll get you there. I'm not gonna leave you like this, alright?"

"Okay," you confirm, nodding slightly.

"Can I get a kiss?"

Again, you nod, expecting a quick peck—maybe a few quick pecks, but no, he goes on to kiss you like its been months since he last saw you, not a week. He's desperately chasing after your lips, seeking more and more of what he's been deprived of for too long. In his mind, he says 'never again, never again, never again', because he can't imagine going so long without your sweetness again. Without the softness of your lips against his, without those pretty smiles and laughs being thrown at him. It sounds like hell 2.0. when he thinks about losing it all over again.

"Fuck, I missed this," he murmurs, still just a breath away from your lips.

"Yeah," you respond, eyeing the short little pins of hair that sprinkle over his jaw and upper lip area. It makes you smile, you don't always get to see his face when it's not clean shaven.

"I was in a rush," he explains, unnecessarily, following the way your eyes trace his face.

"Mm," you hum, smiling. "Can I shave your face?"

"You wanna clean me up?" he asks, almost as if he's surprised.

"Only if you want me to. It was just an idea," you say, smiling sheepishly.

To that, he chuckles, a low sound that makes your stomach flip and your cheeks feel warmer.

"Oh, I want you to," he says, leaning forward to peck your lips, luring quiet giggles from you when he doesn't want to pull away.

-

Now, you sit on the counter of your bathroom sink, with Toji standing between your legs. There's a slight tremble in your hand, spurred on by his hands resting on your hips and the way he watches you with so much focus, trusting you enough to let you do this without a word from him. You drag the razor carefully along his cheek, making sure not to move too fast or use too much pressure.

Toji waits until you're cleaning off the blade to make his move of leaning in to press kisses to your face. Small peaks of foam are left behind on your skin, wiped away by gentle strokes of his thumb.

"I'm about to start again," you say through a laugh, leaning away to avoid ridding his face of all the protective spume on it. The razor remains beside you until he finally behaves himself. He huffs like you've been rejecting his affection the whole time, but nonetheless stands up straight and as still as a statue.

After some time, longer than it would have taken him alone—longer than it would have taken you if he didn't smother you every time you paused to clean the razor—you got it done. You brought back the smoothness of his skin.

"Am I pretty again?" he jests, drying his face with one of your towels.

"Stunning," you quip in response, shifting on the counter to signal that you're going to hop off.

"You're stunning," he says, low, unmoving from where he stands between your legs. "My gorgeous, gorgeous girl," he adds, seeking more of that feeling the flustered smile on your face gives him. "Missed you lots, you know that?" You just laugh and shake your head, like you're silently calling him crazy. "What? I'm serious," he says in response, a soft grin on his face. "Did you miss me? Even a little bit?"

A single second passes by. You can't lie to him and say you didn't. You missed him every single day, through the hurt. Your chest ached and your heart dropped every time you remembered the incident, but your love for him never wavered. You couldn't stop thinking about him, and with how often he tried to reach you, it was nearly impossible not to have him on your mind.

"Of course I did. I took the time I needed, but that doesn't mean I wanted it."

"I know, baby. And I would never hold it against you. I'm just... glad I can see you again, is all."

You smile. The gleam and sincerity in his eyes is a wonder to witness and well worth the butterflies that overly crowd your stomach.

"I really did miss you," you mumble.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"Mhm," you hum, nodding. "'Lots.'"

A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest, then he leans in close for nth time, peppering kisses across your cheek until he reaches your lips. He can feel you smiling into the kisses, a sensation he yearned for with every fiber of his being for the past week. One of his hands rests on your thigh, caressing the inner part of it, while the other slides up your shirt and settles on your waist. The lip-lock steals your breath away, but even then, you challenge your lungs for your lover's sake, only pulling away when you're a panting mess and Toji's breathing is more audible.

The tension is palpable, the silence loud as you look at one another like you're still taking in the fact that you can be loving towards each other again, in a manner that doesn't derive from guilt for the time that you didn't get to demonstrate how much you truly love each other. Enough to not be able to leave a fresh wound alone, enough to forgive while outwardly expressing that you have not healed but are patient enough to work towards regaining that strength.

"I don't wanna go home," he murmurs, eyes flitting between your eyes and lips before focusing on solely your eyes.

"You don't have to," you respond. "Stay as long as you'd like."

"And if I said I wanted to spend a week here with you? Would you hate it?"

You shake your head. "No, but I think you'd get tired of seeing me all the time."

"You're wrong, pretty girl. Is this your subtle way of saying you're tired of looking at my mug, already?" He asks, lips curling with amusement at your giggle.

"No, I want you to stay," you say, honest.

"Promise?"

You nod, followed by an affirmative hum.

"Say it again," he requests, heart thudding just a little faster when you smile.

"I want you to stay, Toji," you repeat, his name on your tongue causing your cheeks to warm up.

"Again." His hands mold around your hips—squeezing, loving.

"Stay," you say, softer.

He sighs, heavy, an enamored look in his eyes that you have never been able to comprehend. Those dark, viridescent eyes, have a brilliance to them as he looks at you like you're the last good thing he'll ever be able to call his. You're good for him, you're good to him, and there is nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you because you gave him your heart.

"Yeah... you're stuck with me here for a week and you're come with me to pick some stuff up from my place, tomorrow. Okay? Okay."

"Okay," you respond, with a laugh.

"Now, we get you off this counter," he says, lifting you like you're a teddy bear that he carries around for protection. He doesn't miss the way you gasp at the suddenness. "Hold me tight, baby," he says, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist before moving anywhere. A kiss is planted on your shoulder as he turns around to exit the bathroom.

"And now you let me show you some love," he says, low, carrying you to your bedroom.

[aervera]

Only Yours Today

synopsis. when nanami unexpectedly calls in sick just to spend the day with you contents. sfw, tooth-rotting fluff, nanami being a gentleman and a sweetheart. notes. i want a day-off from college. but i can't since last semester and everything is hectic

MASTERLIST

you wake to the smell of coffee and the sound of your favorite kettle whistling.

your first instinct is to panic—because nanami never leaves for work without waking you first. he’s religious about routine, almost obnoxiously so. 7:00 a.m. sharp, every weekday. a kiss on your forehead, a brush of his knuckles down your jaw, then the sound of the front door closing softly behind him.

except he’s… here?

you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the sun is barely peeking through the gauzy curtains, painting the room in soft gold. there’s the familiar creak of floorboards, then the quiet click of your bedroom door opening.

nanami steps in with a tray balanced in one hand and that subtle smile that always manages to wreck you.

“good morning, y/n,” he says, voice warm, deep, and freshly brewed like the mug in his hand.

you blink at him, confused but already melting. “…are you working from home?”

he sets the tray on your lap—coffee, lightly sweetened just how you like it, and toast with the edges cut off.

“i called in sick,” he says casually, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. “so i’m all yours today.”

you stare at him.

then blink.

“wait, what?”

“i said—”

“you called in sick?”

he nods once, then takes off his glasses to wipe them with the edge of your blanket like he does when he’s pretending to be nonchalant.

“you never call in sick,” you say, still stunned. “you went to work the day you had the flu. you showed up to a meeting after a night mission with three broken ribs.”

“that was reckless,” he agrees simply.

“exactly—so why now?”

nanami finally meets your gaze, his expression gentling as he walks over to your side of the bed.

“because you looked tired last night,” he murmurs, “and i wanted to give you something soft to wake up to today. so… me.”

your breath catches.

because he says it without fanfare, without performance. just a truth he’s already accepted.

you shake your head slowly, dazed. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’m aware,” he replies smoothly. “but you’re the one who keeps me.”

breakfast happens slowly, in the warmth of rumpled sheets and half-lidded smiles. nanami sips his coffee while reading the news off his phone, one hand casually resting on your thigh under the blanket like it belongs there. (it does.)

afterward, you get up to brush your teeth, but he follows you into the bathroom like a shadow. you arch a brow when he wordlessly picks up your toothbrush, dabs on paste, and hands it to you.

“you’re hovering,” you mumble, toothpaste foaming slightly.

“i’m staying,” he corrects. “different.”

you snort.

but you don’t ask him to leave.

by 10 a.m., the two of you are on the couch, feet tangled, a fuzzy blanket over both your legs. there’s an old documentary playing—nanami’s choice, something about 19th-century trade policies—and you’re pretending to watch, but you’re really just watching him.

his hand rests on your ankle, thumb lazily drawing circles.

there’s no urgency in his touch. no demand. just quiet affection, like he has nowhere else to be—and more importantly, no one else he’d rather be with.

you sigh, nuzzling your cheek against the pillow. “i still can’t believe you called in sick. they’ll riot at the office.”

“they’ll survive.”

“you’re the backbone of the entire team.”

“i am.” he glances over at you. “but you are the backbone of me. and i happen to think today, i need my spine more than they do.”

you blink slowly.

“you’re weirdly poetic when you’re not sleep-deprived.”

“i am always poetic. you just don’t listen before your morning coffee.”

you both laugh.

it’s light and easy, the kind of laughter that only happens when the rest of the world is far away.

around noon, you both go for a walk. nanami holds your hand like it’s a habit, not a choice—thumb brushing over your knuckles as he listens to you ramble about the weird dream you had last night (something about a baby panda that spoke fluent french and asked you for tax advice).

he listens, fully and attentively, nodding like it’s the most important topic in the world.

at one point, he pauses near a small corner café. “would you like to go in?”

you grin. “only if we sit by the window and pretend we’re strangers falling in love for the first time.”

he hums, amused. “you want a day off and a meet-cute?”

“i want it all.”

nanami chuckles. “you always have.”

and you always will—especially when he looks at you like this, like your world is the one he’s happiest orbiting.

you return home in the early afternoon with croissants and coffee and a single tiny flower he plucked from the hedge when he thought you weren’t looking.

you catch him slipping it into your cup holder and he just shrugs, all deadpan. “i didn’t have a vase.”

you press your face into his coat, laughing.

back inside, he rolls up his sleeves again—domestic deity style—and makes you both lunch. it’s something warm and simple, but he plates it like a michelin-star chef because that’s who he is: always composed, always precise, even in love.

“i’ve noticed,” he says quietly as you eat beside him at the dining table, “that when i’m home with you, i feel less like a man dragging his feet through obligation. and more like someone who’s… content.”

you tilt your head. “you’re never obligated to stay.”

he looks at you, serious. “no. but i want to. which is rarer.”

later, you nap in his lap.

he’s seated on the armchair, legs stretched out, a book in one hand and you curled against his chest like you were carved to fit there. his free hand strokes through your hair in slow, absent motions.

he doesn’t say a word.

but you feel it in every quiet sigh, in every slight shift of his fingers against your scalp.

he chose this day. he chose you.

you wake up just as the sun begins to dip behind the skyline, golden-orange light painting his features.

“hey,” you whisper, voice still hoarse with sleep. “still here?”

his hand rests on your back, palm warm and grounding. “always.”

as evening settles in, you both lie on the bed, tangled beneath soft sheets, your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

you whisper, “do you ever regret days like this?”

“never,” he says instantly.

“even when you’re falling behind on emails and half your company probably hates me right now?”

nanami shifts slightly so he can look at you fully. “no one hates you.”

“i might’ve stolen their favorite employee.”

“they’ll manage.” his thumb brushes your cheek. “you need to understand, y/n—i didn’t call in sick because i was burnt out. i called in because i wanted to be here. with you. no spreadsheets. no deadlines. just… this.”

you don’t respond with words.

instead, you tilt your chin up and press your lips to his—softly, slowly, the kind of kiss that speaks of deep affection, quiet promises, and something warm blooming in the silence between breaths.

he kisses you back just as gently.

no rush.

no need to ask for more.

this is enough.

by nightfall, you’re brushing your teeth side by side again, and nanami’s reflection catches yours in the mirror. he watches you like you’re the sunrise at midnight—like you’re something rare and real that he never wants to miss.

you spit out your toothpaste. “you’re staring.”

“i’m allowed.”

“because you’re sick?”

“because i’m in love.”

you freeze, toothbrush halfway to the sink.

then slowly, you glance at him. “you love me?”

nanami places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you gently toward him until you’re standing face-to-face.

“i think i’ve loved you since the first time you made fun of my tie pattern,” he says softly. “but yes—i do.”

your chest tightens in the best way.

you whisper, “i love you too.”

he leans in, brushing his nose against yours. “good. because i plan to call in sick a little more often.”

you grin. “scandalous.”

“i prefer the term intentional.”

that night, he holds you close beneath the blankets, one arm wrapped around your waist, his breath slow and even against your neck.

and just before you fall asleep, you hear him murmur:

“being yours is the only thing that ever made me feel like i wasn’t wasting time.”

you smile into the dark, your heart full.

because today, time didn’t feel wasted.

it felt like love.

[mona-risms]

hear me out.. polytrix x reader where fem!reader doesn't know about the whole demon hunter thing and is still under the hypnosis from the saja boys and the girls try their hardest to snap her out of it. 🫦

◆ MAIN COURSE: poly!HUNTR/X x fem!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW, romantic

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: None

◆ NOTES: This might've SLIGHTLY teeny tinily missed the point but I hope you still like it!! I can't make a full-blown fic without getting paid bc I'm broke as hell and I'm lazy so the most you're getting is the usual hcs and snippets I fear 💔. But anyway I LOVELOVELOVE POLYTRIX 😩😩😩😩😩 I think they should all kiss together and kiss me too

This is the funniest shit ever and no one can tell me otherwise bc you've got three ninja popstars and one perfectly normal human being who just really really loves K-Pop. And you all LOVE each other????? #holyfcknairball no one would believe you until you show full proof that yes you do in fact kiss those celebrities on the mouth! Every day actually! Unless they're on tour but still! Yes you are a girls only poly couple! You couldn't be happier!

Unfortunately bc of the fact that you're normal, you won't even know that the hot new boy band, Saja Boys, are all drawing people in via brainwashing to sacrifice your souls to a Demon King named Gwi-Ma that looks like an oversized wildfire. Said people includes you I fear 💔💔. Imagine you were out coincidentally and you got to witness their debut performance and you were so drawn to them!! Why wouldn't you be??

They hear your voice before they see you—right there, right near the front row, right in front of them.

"What's she doing here?" Mira hissed, though despite her tone, the concern was glaringly obvious.

"I think she wanted to buy something? She said about baking," Zoey answered, her own concern matching up with Mira as she bounced on the balls of her feet in an attempt to both alleviate her sudden restlessness and to see you from the crowd. "But-- But what if they try to grab her? [Y/N]'s at a very grabbable distance! And the worst thing is I won't even blame them—she's really grabbable in general!"

Zoey doesn't even finish before Rumi's weaving through the crowd in an attempt to reach you, "Either way, no one is getting grabbed, least of all our girlfriend."

When Rumi does reach you, she taps your shoulder to gain your attention. Without fail, you turn around and smile widely in recognition, "Ru-- Ahem, babe! Did you see how good this new band was? They're called the Saja Boys!"

"Yeah. I heard."

Usually, you would've noticed her sudden deadpan, but you were buzzing too much under your skin from the sudden excitement of this new debut so you barrelled on, "Maybe you and them'll even collab one day! Wouldn't that be awesome?!"

"Yeah, awesome, now c'mon, we need to get out of the crowd," she effortlessly twines her fingers in yours, which you reciprocate happily as you follow her while still going on about the Saja Boys. But when she dares to look back at the boy band, she noticed the black-haired demon in disguise's eyes on you.. and then on her, as if he knew very well what was going on.

When you finally get out of the crowd, you rejoin your other two loves of your life with a cheek kiss for Mira and then a squealing hug with Zoey.

Mira doesn't hesitate to ask as you and the shortest HUNTR/X member basically wrapped yourselves on each other, "Are you okay? They didn't do anything to you, did they?"

"Yeah, like, did they ever, I dunno.. suck your soul out or something?" Zoey asked, and then quietly winced as Mira and Rumi both signalled not to say anything with exaggerated expressions and hand gestures behind you.

You giggled at the line of questioning, "What? No? My soul definitely felt like it ascended while watching them, though! You guys are funny."

While you and Zoey were busy clinging onto each other, Rumi pulled Mira in to whisper to her, "They know."

"Know what?"

"That we're linked together in some way? That she's a normal human? I don't know, but they know and I don't want to risk her to find out. Do you?"

And their gazes drift to you as you spoke animatedly with Zoey, equally rambling to you and matching your energy in turn—probably both invested in the situation and also well-aware of the much-needed secret debriefing.

And Mira shook her head with furrowed brows, "Absolutely not."

"Good."

Whenever the girls are all "DON'T FALL FOR THEM" you're so confused bc like. Why?? What's up with them recently???? Ever since the Saja Boys popped up, they've been so weirdly pressed about them every time you brought them up. Like, sure, rivalry's one thing, but you've seen them with rivalries before!!!!! It's not like the Saja Boys have like killed people or smth lmfao it's okay the world's not gonna end if you stan them too (cue the scene with them and Bobby looking at the same city and seeing Two Completely Different Views)

Every time you're ever with them one way or another and the Saja Boys are around/involved they are LOCKING THE FUCK IN. Constantly trying to redirect your attention and theirs like "Do Not Look At Her" and if you ever get too close they'll be all "back the FUCK up actually". And whenever thry try to pull all that hypnotising shit on you they are DRAGGING YOU AWAY and kissing you until you run out of air and forget what you were even thinking about like a min ago 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

They're so much more attentive towards you, and during the two weeks of the Saja Boys being there, you are NOT allowed to be without at LEAST one of them. Why?? Ohhhh yk cuz they just really really miss you, that's all!!!!! They did just come out of a world tour so like they wanna be with you for as much as possible ahahahaha definitely bc the boy band you're fawning over rn are actually demons that want to consume your soul!!! Especially yours!!!!!! Bc they know you're special to them all ahahahahaahahahahahahaahahhaa

Oh but it'd be devastating if Mira and Zoey saw you with the crowd after Rumi's breakdown. Not only Bobby was brainwashed, but so are you, mindlessly following the masses. And as much as they want you to fight it, to remember, they can't even blame you or find the strength; they failed, Rumi hid she was part-demon the entire time, it's over

You'd be one of the people closest to Gwi-Ma's flames on purpose I think—a twisted way for Jinu to make your sacrifice quick and painless. But when Rumi and then Zoey and Mira both clock it? Absolutely the fuck not dude Gwi-Ma just made them even fucking MADDER

At the end of it they know they'll definitely have to explain everything to you, considering. From the Saja boys to Rumi explaining herself properly ALLLLL the way to how they're Hunters and what they do. But at the very least you're not dead thank GOD

"You guys know I don't actually know how to feel right now, right? Finding out that my girlfriends have been constantly getting into near-death experiences as, like, idol ninjas with magic weapons isn't really for the faint of heart—let alone finding out demons and supernatural whatevers are real."

The four of you migrated to Rumi's bed after that whole ordeal at the Tower, tired and exhausted and in need of a good cuddle pile. Right now, you and Rumi were cuddled up against each other, her patterns casting a soft glow on your skin, while Mira was spooning you with her tall frame and Zoey clung onto Rumi like a koala.

The trio had the decency to wince a little, and Mira spoke first in defence, "To be fair, we did get trained for, like, years not to give anything away, including our Hunter profession."

"And I'm your girlfriend," you sighed as your hand traced the jagged glowing lines across Rumi's skin, "I thought we weren't going to hide anything. No wonder sometimes you lot disappear without any explanation—this whole time, you've been.. slaying demons?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

You hummed.. before putting your attention on Rumi, "And you. You really think we were going to love you any less because of what you're mixed with?"

"Um. Kinda?" Rumi looked to the side, averting your gazes, "It's-- I was raised to think that I should be ashamed of it, that I need to hide. It's--"

"Why you always have a separate green room?"

"Why you don't go into the batthouse with us?"

Rumi nodded, though not without a flush on her cheeks, "..yeah."

Your gaze softened as you lightly bit your lip before cupping her face for a short but tender kiss, "You think that's gonna really scare me—us—away? Mira and Zoey came back to you after the shock, and I sure as hell don't care if you were part-turtle or whatever--"

"Being part-turtle would be cool! ..Or super slow, depends--"

"My point being," you interrupted Zoey with an affectionate chuckle, "we love you because you're our Rumi. Not an idol, not a demon, just our Rumi—the one that overthinks, overworks and gets so into her head that we'd have to shut it for her. ..No more hiding, yeah?"

Rumi doesn't respond, not for a long while, and thre three of you are content in just laying there in silence, with her patterns casting a brighter yet softer glow on all of you. But eventually she buries her head in your chest, muffling her eventual answer, "..Mhm. Thank you."

Zoey's hold on Rumi tightened as she practically nuzzled into the latter's back, all while Mira reached over to hold Rumi's hand, now back to its human shape compared to the claws she had briefly before. No one else says anything, and that's perfectly fine for the four of you.

"..So I guess I'm retiring from stanning anyone but you guys."

"Obviously!" "Duh." "You are."

[takoseimegumi]

I don't usually reblog posts like this or add comments to posts I reblog, but I wanted to share my experiences. Just to show all the ways something like this can affect people. Content warnings for anxiety, suicide, abuse and sexual harassment.

This came at the absolute worst time in my life. Things were starting to look up for me. I'm autistic and have had trouble functioning in society, but I had hope things were getting better. I got a bank account, a long-term online friend had confessed his love to me leaving me no longer single, I was starting to go out on my own after years of needing someone else to come with me... things were really hopeful.

Then the lockdowns started. I wasn't able to go out. I couldn't use the money I now had access to. I wasn't able to arrange even one irl meeting with my boyfriend (we live in different countries). And when I tried to go to the store I was heavily restricted in what I could do. There were spaced-out lines, you had to follow a route inside the store, some wouldn't accept me without a mask, one yelled at me for being slightly out of line... I had no choice but to become a shut-in.

It got to the point when just seeing mentions of what was going on gave me extreme anxiety. And that was completely unavoidable. I was living in a constant state of that.

At one point I got a message from my boyfriend where he explained he got the virus. I had to spend a couple of weeks living in complete instinctual fear for him. I couldn't sleep. I tried to distract myself but I couldn't stop crying. I wanted to be there for him but I couldn't. It turned out fine in the end, but to this day remembering those two weeks makes me tear up.

Think that's bad enough? It gets worse.

Shortly before the pandemic started, my mum started dating someone. I was happy for her at first. Things seemed to be looking up for her as well. But then... strange things started to happen.

My mum's sanity took a nosedive after this whole thing started. She was like full-on tinfoil hat conspiracy theorist. It was jarring seeing her like this. And unfortunately, her mental health deteriorating wouldn't just affect her.

Her boyfriend turned out to be an emotionally abusive bastard towards not only her, but me and my brother. My brother ended up leaving after mum's boyfriend and me had a fight (that was the last straw for him). And he was basically taking advantage of my mum's shattered sanity to keep her with him.

The emotional abuse wasn't even the worst part. This is where it gets really ugly. Over the years even as lockdown was settling down, the damage to my development was already done (to this day I still haven't recovered) and I was still a complete shut-in. My mum's boyfriend would start making inappropriate comments towards me, and whenever I would complain, he would guilt-trip me into taking it back. Talking to mum did not help. He'd successfully brainwashed her. She refuses to believe he could do wrong even to this day.

And over the years, the comments got worse. He would divulge his fetishes, try to invade on my hobbies, invalidate my asexuality and past sexual trauma (just because I separate fiction from reality), and even send me sexually explicit gifts like laced panties and a vibrator.

I was waking up in anxiety attacks. I felt trapped. It got so bad I tried to kill myself in the bathtub just so I could escape.

At that point, the pandemic was officially over. But I was so mentally broken by everything that had gone on that I couldn't leave.

That is, until my boyfriend told me to text my brother about it. He got me out of there. I've been living with him and my grandma for a little over a year now.

This wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for the pandemic. My mum would be the person she used to be. She would have left that bastard the moment I spoke up about him.

And I would still be cheerful and optimistic like I was before. But I can't be. And I don't have hope I ever will be.

The only thing that keeps me going is my boyfriend, my online friends and my interests.

So no, I don't think we should romanticise quarantine.

"remember quarantine when everyone was baking bread and dancing--" no, but I remember quarantine when a bunch of people were borderline suicidal. and I remember quarantine when people got screamed at for not wearing a mask outside. and I remember quarantine when businesses were forced to close and people lost their jobs. and I remember quarantine when there were government tip lines to report family dinners. and I remember quarantine when no one was allowed to go to church.

and I remember how it's a really good thing that my grandma wanted to be cremated, since that meant we could delay her funeral. because if we had to have it soon after she died (from cancer, not covid), three of her kids wouldn't have been allowed to be there. they wouldn't have had the chance to say goodbye.

so no, I don't remember any kind of human flourishing as a result of quarantine. and you're right that people should stop romanticizing it.

That's the quarantine I remember.

And I'm not going to forget it, either.

It's crazy how they are already trying to gaslight people into thinking we were all just living our best lives.

[multiversefanfics]

Need You To Sleep

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Warning: nothing but fluff Summary: Dean needs to hold your wrist while he sleeps to feel comfortable, your heartbeat relaxes him. Word Count: 730 A/N: Got this idea from tiktok

Dean Winchester.

The big bad hunter, the man who wouldn't think twice about killing something that posed a threat to you or hurt you, the man who sleeps with a gun under his pillow, now sleeps with your arm under his pillow. You never thought in a million years that Dean would need you to sleep, the two of you hated each other when you met, but one drunk night, he realizes he can't live without you.

The first time you and Dean slept in the same bed together, he kept his distance, he was afraid he would have a nightmare and wake you up, or worse, accidentally hit you. As the two of you slept together more and more, Dean inched closer and closer each night. One night, he was exhausted from a hunt, you were in bed looking at your laptop researching random lore to pass the time until they came back.

Dean closed your laptop, tossing it gently to the end of the bed. He crawled between your legs, laying his head on your lap. You smiled and looked down at him, running your fingers through his hair, his body melted into your lap.

"What's wrong, my love?" You cooed as you ran your fingertips down the back of his head to his neck

He mumbled incoherently against your lap. You asked him to repeat himself, but instead of responding, he simply started snoring. You smiled and continued to rub his back. Dean started to stir a bit, you helped him get onto his pillow. Once he got comfortable, his hand went straight for your wrist. You were confused at first, but you let it go.

You noticed Dean started to do it more and more. It started off as him just wanting to touch you, then it became a need. He needed to feel your heartbeat to fall asleep, he wanted to make sure you were still there with him, that you were real. He never told you that, you just sort of assumed. It became a nightly routine: the two of you would talk about your day, listen to him complain about Sam, and just be all lovey-dovey.

You turned Dean into a softie, he used to think he was all tough when in reality he was yearning to be loved and to let his soft side out for someone he loves. Dean loved the way you could easily calm him down when he was upset or pissed. No one has ever been able to do it as quickly as you do. It scared him at first, but he learned to love it.

Dean was getting ready for bed. He crawled in beside you and immediately grabbed your wrist, holding it against his cheek. You looked over at him and smiled, you weren't going to ask but you just needed to know.

"Babe, can I ask you something?" You watched as he opened one eye to look at you. "Why do you do that?"

"Do What?" He raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Hold my wrist." You looked down at your wrist, then back at Dean. "I don't want you to stop, I just wanna know why."

Dean sat up, crossing his legs together, he brought your wrist to his lips and placed a small kiss on it. He looked up at you and exhaled peacefully, a small smile forming on his lips.

"I do this because it helps me stay grounded, it helps me sleep. It shows me that this is real, and it's not some dream I'm in." He looked at Sam who was peacefully sleeping in the bed next to you.

"It makes me feel at peace knowing that you're right beside me, I love you, and I never want to be away from you." Dean placed another small kiss to your wrist, smiling against your skin.

"I love you too, baby." You leaned over and placed a soft kiss to his cheek

"Now, can we go to sleep? I am exhausted." He shot you a wink and laid back down, placing your wrist on his cheek once more.

You playfully rolled your eyes and laid down beside him, hearing what Dean said made you feel loved, it made you feel important. He made you feel needed. Dean never truly needed anyone, except for when it came to you.

A/N: This one is a little short, but i still hope you guys like it. if you want to be tagged in future fics comment here or send me a message. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. 🥰

Main Masterlist - Dean Winchester Masterlist

Taglist: @iwudbutnah @littlesoulshine @miss-marmalade @bettystonewell @cherryresidence @ambiguous-avery

[thecatchat]

Free fic idea because I know I'm going to run out of energy if I try to write it myself.

Takes place after the realized ending. I don't know what the cannon ending is but I'm imagining they definitely buy a bar together and name it The Breaker Box, but they eventually realize that running a human bar requires more than two people, no matter how much they try. So they hire a small amount of staff, I'm thinking no more than 4 people.

This would be a 5 times someone learned something new (or odd) about their bosses and the 1 time it made sense/someone put it all together.

1. Volt and Eddie kiss in front of a homophobic costumer, revealing that they're a couple to the employees.

2. Eddie adopts an orange alley cat and names them Copper. Copper disappears for a few days and Eddie is fine (he's overworking himself with worry. He's replacing lightbulbs whenever he can get away with it, none of them are actually burnt out.) When Copper comes back, they drop 3 kittens in Eddie's lap and curl up at his feet. ("I'm not a cat dad, I'm a cat uncle at most.") The kittens names all relate to electricity. Due to this, Volt or Eddie reveal that electricity, or even specifically a breaker box, was the reason they met in the first place and refuse to elaborate.

Rest under the cut because it got really long.

3. The staff are invited to a team building thing, it could be a party or an escape room or whatever. Point is: there are black lights illuminating the space. Volt sees his reflection under black light, sees how his hair looks like it's glowing and shuts down? Maybe even starts crying without realizing it? Either way, when Eddie is going to comfort him, one of the employees hear Volt say "my hair is glowing again." Or something along those lines. The employees learn that Volt has an emotional reaction to his white hair glowing.

4. One night, the breaker trips due to a storm and Eddie runs off to fix it almost like a mad man. Volt is caught up keeping the guests calm and entertained so when it takes Eddie a while, an employee goes to check on him. They find him staring angrily/confused at the breaker box and mumbling like he's missing something. The employee flips the switch on the breaker and Eddie is startled out of his trance. When asked why he didn't flip the switch he's like "I- I couldn't feel it." Now he's shut down and/or tearing up. The employee panics a bit, puts a cat on him then goes and tells Volt what's happening. The employees aren't sure what they've learned, but it's definitely something.

5. Somebody gets a little violent/rowdy at the bar or an after closing repair goes a little wrong and Eddie or Volt gets hurt, dealers choice. Now, I think realization shouldn't come without its quirks, some more obvious than others. For Volt and Eddie, I think their blood should be blue. Our blood looks red because when the iron in it oxidizes with air it becomes a red color. If the blood has copper instead of iron, like Horseshoe Crab blood, it appears blue when oxidized. Copper wires = copper blood = blue blood.

So all 4 employees see that their employer is bleeding blue. Everyone is shocked, eventually the unhurt boss calls Freya, because they can not go to a hospital for this. In the meantime while they wait. "Um, is that blood?" "No." "What is it then?" "... blood can't be blue." "Horseshoe crabs have blue blood! They're really cool animals." "... human blood isn't blue." "..."

In the days following, lots of really odd people swing by specifically to talk to Volt/Eddie. Whoever you want, just, individually, any resemblance to an object is a fun thing to see. But when every single person who's specifically asking after your boss reminds of something/is a very distinct personality, it begins to pile up that something is weird.

+1 - I think this point could be told from Eddie and/or Volts pov. Basically, the employees are trying to figure out what kind of magical creature their bosses are. Someone tried to stick a fridge magnet on Eddie (robot). Someone flicked water at Volt (Holy water, vampire). They both keep getting poked with metal things (Iron, Fae). Eventually they call up a meeting to tell them to knock it off.

"You tell us what you think we are and we'll tell you if you're correct or not." "Hint: we're human." *a few incorrect guesses* "um, more of a question than a guess. But, um, were you cursed to be a breaker box? At some point?" "..." "..." "..." "Volt. Don't." "I didn't say anything."

Up to the author if they fully explain the house thing or if they basically go, "You're not right, but you're not wrong either. No more questions." Either way, I think that could be the end of the fic.

[heartavenue]

ㅤㅤThings To Script: Love Island Edition ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

𖤓 I just started watching Love Island and I am obsessed I fear. Although this season is not...eating the way it should, the urge to shift there is REAL! Context: I've only seen season 7, but I just started watching season 6 (literally watching as I am typing this) so this things to script is based on what I know based on season 7!

Less kissing/physically intimate challenges and more romantic ones (I am not a prude I just don't want to swap spit and grind on people on the first day of meeting them...)

THEY DON'T HAVE SEX NEXT TO YOU OMG PLEASE WHY WOULD THEY DO THIS!

More dates on the show...this show is about finding love why are we doing everything except be romantic with each other

You do NOT have to sleep in the same bed as the person you are coupled up with (unless you want to)

More showers, perhaps like two or three more.

You don't have to wake up at 6:00am.

Women aren't expected to put on full glam...every...damn...day.

You don't have to walk around with a bathing suit everyday, you can switch it up whenever you like.

There are more options for food (avocado toast and eggs EVERY DAY????)

If you have a strong connection with someone you can't get booted from the island.

Your connection doesn't leave you for a bombshell (unless you want them to for drama purposes.)

You can LEAVE THE DAMN VILLA! I mean just to do something, this is FIJI let them people go on excursions.

You genuinely enjoy being in your couple. (Yes this is Taylor shade...)

People don't talk shit about you behind your back.

People are genuinely there for love and not for the game (Yes this is ace shade...)

You can never be single and vulnerable.

There's more diversity, where is the south Asian representation? Pacific Islander, indigenous people, Africans, east asians, DIVERISTY!

More QUEERNESS! Love Island is so cisheteronormative, more queer people!

More body diversity where are the BODIES!!!!!!!!!! I need cellulite, stretch marks, strawberry legs, hip dips, everyone deserves love!

None of the Islanders know each other beforehand.

The girls genuinely love and respect each other, same with the boys. Nobody is jealous of each other and is trying to undermine anyone's experience in the villa.

When recouplings happen they do not affect what you have with your established connection.

America loves you, the Islanders love you, you are iconic!

You have so many viral moments that boost your popularity inside and outside of the villa.

There is a place within the villa where you can go to vent, get away from others, etc without being recorded.

Your type is on the show!

You and your connection have cute moments that blow up outside of the villa.

There are some type of concidences between you and your connection that make you think "wow this must be fate" (think about Serena and kordell matching on the first episode.)

You are an amazing kisser (hehe.)

Nothing embarrassing ever happens to you in the villa.

You make friends that last outside of the show.

There are no clicks that are formed...(ace...)

Nobody expects the girls to wear heels all the time.

Okay that's all I got for right now! Will update as I think of more things!

[therealvinelle]

If given the choice,

Would the cullens rather be able to sleep or get drunk?

... do they get tired when they don't sleep, and do they experience hangovers and can their livers sustain damage now?

I'll assume yes on both counts, and that they also don't get to talk to each other before making their respective decisions.

Alice Alcohol. Sleep would be unthinkably boring to her, and there are hours in the day she wouldn't even be losing to sleep but to being tired. Complete waste of her time, Alice is enjoying cosmos with Bella, thank you very much.

Bella Bella did not become a vampire so she could sleep instead of having sex with Edward, thank-you very much. She's having umbrella drinks with Alice and Rosalie while contemplating such questions as "Can Renesmee drink alcohol?".

Carlisle The man is a workaholic who's spent three-hundred years without sleep. I think the idea of sacrificing a third of his time to sleep, to being unable to travel long distances without growing tired, and saying goodbye to effortless long shifts at the hospital would be unthinkable to him. He's having cosmos with the women instead.

Edward He would be impulsive enough to choose sleep without thinking on whether this is what he really wants. Now he is supposed to get eight hours of rest every day, but he becomes an insomniac who sleeps in, and his only two companions are Jasper and Renesmee (Even Carlisle failed him! And for such noble reasoning as hospital shifts, so Edward can't be mad about it).

Emmett Drinks. Surprising nobody.

Esme While it's not mentioned, domestic violence and alcohol abuse often go hand in hand. I don't see Esme being very happy about either choice. She also doesn't want to miss eight hours every day, however, so I imagine she opts for alcohol and then just... never touches it. What's that, she can drink now? Ahahahaha no she can't.

Jasper Sleep. He'd fear becoming an alcoholic too much, and he'd hate being drunk in front of Alice or the other Cullens. Sleep is respectable, can't get addicted to it, and it'll be a few hours a day where he's unbothered by blood.

Rosalie To sleep is human, but... so is getting tipsy with friends. Now, does Rosalie have friends in the traditional sense of the word? Arguably no. She does have Alice (likes Bella better), Bella (sigh), Esme (staying sober), Emmett (husband doesn't count) and Carlisle (father figure...), so... it's something... It's the milestones, the experiences of being human that Rosalie misses, sleep for sleep's sake fulfils none of that. She chooses umbrella drinks.

Bonus: Renesmee Renesmee can already sleep, and hates being the only one who does this. She roots for the others to please, guys, choose sleep. Please!!

[paracosmic-murdock]

days of the new avengers* lives

episode seven: pets

you and yelena watch french movies that aren't dubbed, so you ask valentina for a french tutor to learn. alexei buys pets for the team. bucky training bob goes wrong.

careful who you assemble

pairing: new avengers* x fem!new avenger!reader

tags/warnings: new avengerz assemble, found family kinda, bullying john (maybe affectionately), mockumentary, sapphic reader, eventually mel gold x reader, using y/n as little as i can, this one has some feelz there around and lots of platonic bucky x reader that could be misunderstood (and was by certain someones), reader and bucky get caught in the void!!, tony stark mentioned, reader's position on civil war revealed, past wanda x reader (romantic + unrequited) mentioned, mentions of wanda's death, russian as sokovian, reader likes dogs, more to be added bc i'm going with the flow tbh

3.3K words

✰ days of the new avengers' lives masterlist

✰ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

Yelena and you had started a new tradition: movie night.

Your newest idea was to watch French movies. Thus far, you have seen Les Misérables, Persepolis, and Benedetta. Your difficulty to understand it well enough was stealing the magic from it, so you considered something.

Something that would require blackmailing and dedication.

As nobody else ever joined you —in all honesty, you wouldn’t want it any other way— you could put your plan in practice without much trouble. That way, you could also watch sad movies, cry in French, and not worry about John's mocking looks.

Because John is kind of an asshole and he finds your emotions funny.

“Can you imagine if John was there when we watched La La Land?” Yelena laughed.

“I think he would’ve cried, too,” you replied. “Unless he and Olivia are doing well.”

“Wait, they're talking like that?”

You looked at her, amused. “Are they talking like that? You bet things have been happening in John F. Walker's routine.”

“Things?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Things indeed,” You gave her a knowing look.

“Wait, what does she even know about my routines? I only go pick up my son!”

“Which son?” Ava asked with a smirk. “Your second-born in the making?”

“Shut up, Starr,”

“If it's a girl, call her Ava. If it's a boy, Bucky.”

“Beep off.”

Yelena and you grinned at each other as you worked on your conversation exercise to introduce yourselves. The greetings, deciding whether to be formal or informal when talking, wondering how it would be to make up new names were probably the most fun you've had in months.

The French lesson lasted two hours, and Thérèse, your teacher, even left you homework for the next class. You two were getting ready to do it when the elevator rang to announce Alexei's arrival from a mystery shopping session.

“Team!” he yelled, almost distressed, catching your attention immediately. “I brought gifts!”

“Dad, you scared the beep out of me!” she complained and stood up, looking at the ungodly amount of pets he was carrying. “What's all that?!”

“I brought pets!” Alexei exclaimed, putting the tanks and cages on the floor. “You take the yezh.”

He encouraged you to walk towards it and pointed at the hedgehog in its cage. “What?”

“This is Josh,” he said. You looked at the camera in awe. “I named her Josh because it sounds like yezh. But it's female.”

“Yezh is hedgehog in Russian,” Yelena explained.

“I know that,” you replied. “I meant what the beep.”

“Dad, why did you bring animals here?”

“For you to learn responsibility,” he said.

“I already have Sweet Cheeks and I'm very responsible, mind you.”

“And I basically co-parent Sweet Cheeks and Alpine,” You shrugged. “I- I can't-”

He smiled and put his hand on your shoulder. “You will be an excellent hedge mother. Where are the others?”

Soon enough, Bucky, Bob, Ava, and John were in the common room.

“I don't think this is a good idea, you know?” Bucky mentioned.

“Bob will have the lizard,” Alexei instructed, pointing at the very small leopard gecko in its tank. Bob approached it on the table and started looking at it carefully. “And Ava will have the fish.”

Ava made a disgusted face at the half a dozen of cardinal tetras, but accepted her unfortunate fate.

“John, the hamster will be yours,”

“Beep no, Alexei!”

He frowned. “Do you prefer the dog?”

“We will be returning those, Alexei,” Bucky said. “We can't have so many animals here. There's enough work with Yelena's guinea pig and Alpine when we go on missions.”

“No problem, we'll have them for a week only unless you decide to adopt them,” He grinned. “And I keep the dog. The pet person said this gets along with cats.”

Ava frowned. “I'm sorry, how did you manage to get that dog? I'm pretty sure that's a ridiculously expensive Charles Spaniel here.”

“I got a credit card from Valentina.”

“Uh, can you take care of a dog, Dad?” 

“We'll find out,”

You shook your head. “No, we won't. I take the dog. John takes Josh. You take the hamster.”

“What are you doing? Why are we entertaining this beep?” John questioned.

“I'll name them Maple,” You smiled and took the puppy in your hands. “Is it a girl or a boy?”

“Female.”

“C’mere, my baby,” you whispered to the puppy and then left her on your lap. “I think I'm keeping her, though.”

Bucky shook his head. “We're not keeping any of them.”

“Beep off, Bucky. I literally fought for Alpine to stay,” you reminded him. “And, calm down, you won't have to be Maple's uncle.”

He rolled his eyes.

“The gecko's name is gonna be Syrup,” Bob commented with a smile. “Like maple syrup.”

Your face lit up. “That's so cute! You are Maple's favorite uncle.”

Bucky huffed and stood up, leaving the common room.

“It's okay, baby, Uncle Bucky is just super grumpy. He'll get over it. Let's find Alpine before he takes her to his room!”

“See? The pets were an amazing idea.”

John, Ava, and Yelena groaned in annoyance.

“That beep hedgehog is nocturnal.”

Ava snorted, smiling amusedly at the camera. “Sorry for that, Walker.”

“At least we aren't She-Hades and her dog. She's the one who'll have it hard.”

“Totally,” she agreed. “And I'm not particularly planning on taking care of those fish. If we go on a mission, the only person willing to take care of them is most likely to be on said mission with me or in charge of her own torment. Or worse, of all the pets: Maple, Syrup, Alpine, Sweet Cheeks… I can't add to the reason she goes insane, that's what John is here for.”

“We can never have a civil conversation, can we?”

“If you want one of those, you're looking at the wrong place to have one.”

“Yeah, I should know better at this point,” John rolled his eyes. “Anyway, let's go now. Alexei wakes up at ten.”

“Me and John are going to return our pets,” Ava announced, pointing at the tank and cage John was carrying. “Don't you snitch on us, Chad.”

Bucky, John, and Alexei believed that your lack of presence in the training room meant they could work with Bob themselves.

Since the mission had been very smooth and Bob had been great, they thought he was ready for ruthless fighting techniques. To teach him moves so he could later apply his brute force into them. To improve.

However, they were failing miserably.

“I beep told you that it would be too much!” John yelled at Bucky. “How many soldiers have you trained, huh? Huh?!”

Bucky groaned in annoyance. “Oh, and how many did you train?”

“Like, dozens!”

“Were any of them enhanced, Walker?!”

“What difference does it even make?! We're not training Sentry right now, this is Bob! You want him to turn into Sentry suddenly and use enough strength to kill us in one punch? No, right? Then stop pushing too much!”

“You are acting like he's Hulk.” Alexei said.

“Actually, emotion does trigger transformation,” Bob noted. “Y/N and I found out the bad way.”

“The bad way?” John frowned.

“Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he replied, trying to look unphased.

“What? You punch her?” Alexei asked.

Bob shook his head. “I wish it was something like that,” and he sighed. All three looked at him in acknowledgement and wondered how you had the guts to leave the training room without giving away the fact that you spent hours in the Void only to help Bob, as if it was nothing. 

But Bucky knew. He knew why you did it: because you cared. Because you had been where Bob was: taking that ‘chance’ to be part of something bigger, maybe to help in a way that mattered, not in control, having something anyone would call a gift being closer to Hell on Earth, on the wrong side before earning a choice, redeeming yourself as if you could make up for everything you've done one day. And, if you could do something to help ease Bob and support him in his journey, you would. You would go to lengths beyond you if you knew it would help him. Bucky knows that too well because you've done the same for him.

The connection you and Bucky share goes way beyond the people and spaces that link you. It goes beyond Steve and beyond Wakanda. It is there in key moments: being HYDRA's favorite toys to break, you leaving everything behind so you could be there for him despite not knowing him—not really at least, realizing that the only thing keeping you from solitude and insanity was having each other, facing the loss of the people you loved the most together, crossing the line of morality to protect each other… the things you have done for him and he for you, the things you are still willing to do without hesitation; that is what connects you.

“You guys don't have to do any of this, you know? Just because I felt like training today doesn't mean I had to.”

So, maybe it was the Bucky that loves you and wishes to protect you above all, or maybe the Bucky that was jealous at the thought of his best friend going through all that trouble for someone else. Like, is he not the special one anymore? 

He doesn't know which option was more embarrassing for him.

“Yeah, I honestly think we have to be heavily trained first,” John noted. “But I'll talk to Y/N.”

“I'll help,” Bucky said. “We can do this, Bob.”

“Are you sure? I know you knew what I meant when I said I hurt her worse than physically. I don't want to do that to you.”

Bucky raised the corner of his lips in a kind, small smile. “You won't hurt me, Bob. I'm not scared of you, I trust you.”

Chad congratulated them for the meaningful shot and left.

“He totally shouldn't have trusted me,” Bob said with embarrassment. He looked anywhere else to avoid the camera, eyes landing on Syrup.

He sighed.

“I guess I should learn to be in control.”

“Shit, fucking shit,” you murmured to yourself, running into the training room and closing the door behind you in hopes for Bob's relapse not being bad enough to spread much further to the point it could exist or be seen outside the room. “Fuck…”

You threw your bag anywhere and ran into the shadows, getting ready to spend the possible worst couple hours of your month there.

Once you were inside, you appeared in your room. The one you got used to by now.

And you knew the drill: ignoring your family's bodies, turning the man crouched and about to find you under the bed to stone before he saw you—before he took you, getting under the bed and in front of a smaller yourself, wiping your ten-year-old version's tears, and kissing your own forehead. “Vse budet khorosho, detka.”

Telling yourself that ‘everything will be alright, little one’.

It hurt, but not enough to harm all that much.

When you opened your eyes again, you were in your old room at the Avengers Compound. This one? It was new, and you already hated seeing Tony that last time and sensing the disappointment in his voice he tried to hide as he said goodbye.

“I heard it's too hot in Wakanda,” He shook his head. “And that there's not much to do.”

An eighteen year-old you grinned. “Actually, I think there's a lot for me there, you know? Like… too much happens in this fuckass city. A little peace will do no harm. And you can call me, you know? I can always come visit if I'm welcome.”

“Are you one call away?” Tony asked, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“As long as nobody throws my ass in jail,” You saw yourself shrug. “I'm sorry for… leaving. I feel like staying out of it was choosing the side of indifference, but I never wanted to be against anyone. I was never sure what was the right thing, I don't think I'll ever be, I just know I never wanted to hurt my family. That includes you and Steve too.”

“And Wanda.”

You pressed your lips tightly. “She got dragged into another war. When she was gaining as much normalcy as an Avenger can get, Lagos happened. This happened. I don't blame her, even if you do.”

“But it hurts,” Tony pointed out the thing you knew too well.

“She got away,” you murmured. “I thought we had had enough war for a hundred lifetimes, that we could just leave and start over. She thought otherwise, so… now she's gone and overthinking it is of no use.”

“I'm sorry about this. I shouldn't have let this happen, let it come this far.”

You sighed. “We are all at fault, Tony. I'm sorry about it, too. I'm sorry for leaving.”

“But you're still a kid. You don't have to be sorry for choosing yourself for once.”

That was the problem. You weren't choosing yourself—you were choosing Bucky.

You were choosing the man who killed his parents over him and he knew it better than he would've wanted to. He knew why. He knew you saw in Bucky the darkness left by the light HYDRA stole from both of you. He knew you enough to catch it from the moment you backed off and decided to leave them to fend for themselves instead of signing the Sokovia Accords or choosing teams.

Tony felt your betrayal, you knew he did. And he saw that silent awareness in your eyes as you let him live in your lie. He knew how it killed you to leave it all behind, so he chose someone other than himself for once and just went with it to spare you.

And, if he knew that would be the last time you saw each other, he would have hugged you before closing that door without looking back. You, however, knew that it was probably the last time, but didn't have the guts to stop him.

You just cried without realizing it before blinking and appearing in Westview that day, when Wanda's hex was finally lifted and she chose to leave instead of picking you. She rejected your love like you knew she would, because you meant little compared to the grief Vision left behind. That day haunted you because you could have done more. You could have insisted she stays instead of blaming her for leaving you. You could have offered comfort instead of telling her she would lose the one person who loved her through everything, that not even Vision knew her like you did, that nobody would love her like you always have, that she was making a mistake. You could have had some dignity and respect instead of making her feel guilty for trying to find her own path. If you hadn't been so hard on her, you know she would have stayed.

Because she loved you, too; maybe not like that anymore. But she loved you. And your words were what pushed her to the edge that one day, what caused the detrimental solitude that drove her mad.

And now she is gone, and you have made peace with it despite who you turned into the moment she walked away from you, but you could never forget her or the mark she left on you.

So you turned around and, when you did, you saw Bucky breaking down. You saw him look at himself as the Winter Soldier, telling Steve he was his mission, hitting him as if he were a punching bag in a rage room, hearing his best friend say he would never hurt him back because he was with him ‘til the end of the line, whatever that meant. So you ran to Bucky like you have learnt to do by force of habit.

“Buck, Bucky, look at me,” You got in front of him, interrupting his view. “I'm here. I'm right here. I'm…”

Suddenly, the void perished. Bucky was still on his knees, crying in silence, a vacant stare you hadn't seen in a while.

You didn't look away, you didn't care for it.

“Bucky,” you whispered, meeting his eyes. “It's over. You are here, you are safe, you are safe with me.”

His breathing was ragged, soon turning into desperate gasps for air. You only held him, driving his head to your chest so he could mimick your breathing and his ear could catch your heartbeat.

Steady, alive, there.

You hushed him and caressed his hair. Gently, softly, careful, with a fondness that grounds him, especially when he has felt it for long enough to remember he is too privileged.

Just then, he held you tightly as if you could slip away any second. As if the moment he let go of you, you would go somewhere more important. As if he was just lucky that you stumbled onto him first.

But it wasn't like that, because Bob was at ease already. Mel, appearing like God himself had summoned her, was standing beside him and staring at the whole thing.

And when you looked up and noticed it, you caught no one other than Chad there filming the scene of you and Bucky.

“Chad,” you called him. He cut immediately and showed you a thumbs up, like congratulating you for the show. “Listen to me very carefully because I will not repeat myself: if you don't delete that video right this fucking second, I will kill you. I am not saying this just to say it, I am not joking, and this is not a warning. This is a threat, and you might as well report this to HR or even the police, because I am dead serious.”

“Delete it, Chad,” Mel ordered. “The views or whatever you want, they're not important. This is.”

Once Chad had shown her that he did indeed delete the footage of you calming Bucky down, Bob escorted him out of the training room.

But Mel stayed for some reason she ignored and witnessed first hand how deep your connection with Bucky was. She realized that you couldn't live without each other, and that whatever she was feeling and whatever you might feel too, if anything at all, would never be anywhere as great.

“I'll be heading out,” she informed, taking a step back.

“Mel,” you called her and, against her better judgment, she stayed. “Thank you.”

Mel didn't know for sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't you thanking her. Maybe the delusional in herself wanted you to tell her that it wasn't what it looked like, asking if she could wait for you and talk. But it wasn't that, which only meant that you saw her as her actions, not as her.

All she ever wanted was for anybody to see her. The Mel she is outside of Val's assistant, the Mel she might be.

She thought you didn't.

But you certainly did, just not right this moment where the only person who had never left you, who had always accepted you, needed you the most.

Mel also valued that. Seeing you being so caring made her like you even more, made her wish so bad she could get that version of you for herself.

But does she have to be a broken thing to get your attention? Or would just Mel be interesting enough?

[athena-the-undestructible]

Time to finally explain my new OCs

Well to start, I have a duo of characters

The first is a sniper who acts stoic at a distance, doesn't interact much with others and barely thinks about the fact that she's killing other people, it's just a job to her and she will rarely question what she is doing.

Up close she gets really nervous since she's not got any people skills and doesn't want to give the wrong information to the wrong person, plus her fighting style isn't very good up close so she prefers to stay away.

The second is a Knife Wielder with both stabbing and throwing skills. She's got great people skills and can manipulate them slightly and she greatly enjoys the act of killing others.

However she's very oblivious to anything that isn't immediately around her and in general is unable to grasp the bigger picture and of course her knifes are allergic to anything long range.

These two are supposed to be foils to each other although I still gotta develop them a bit like giving them names and more reason to dislike each other.

There is also a story I'm trying to construct around these characters although that's very work in progress and I haven't even got a proper idea of what the latter half or end looks like.

The basic premise is that these two kill each other at the beginning of the story, however both of them wake up the next day as if they'd only suffered a slight injury and a job listing they've both taken without remembering.

So they'll have to work together and it's not going to make them reconcile in any way, these two will still hate each others but in some different angles maybe.

They will also work with two others during these jobs.

The first I'll mention is a woman who wields a revolver and dressed like an MiB agent. She's been doing these mysterious job listings for longer and believes in some overall grand scheme that connects all of these.

She's initially supposed to give off mysterious vibes like maybe she did used to be an agent and she knows more than she lets on although this is supposed to be torn away as the plot moves forwards.

She doesn't have any more information than the other two but unlike them who don't think much further than what's happening to them, she's trying to piece together the grand scheme that she believes she's part of .

Her intense desire to be part of something important and her idealism is also why she has the secret agent theme despite never being part of any secret services.

And then we have the other one, the transgender robot I mentioned in a previous post.

So her cover "story" is being an assassin so dedicated to her career that she invested in cybernetics to improve her skill and become more efficient.

This is a total lie and quite the opposite, she's really a combat android who's been using her earnings to gain the appearance of humanity (hense the whole transgender part since she definitely wasn't a girl before).

She's also the total opposite of agent in that she has zero stakes in these missions and her enthusiasm goes as far as her payment.

This includes her inability to die like humans do which will be relevant and means she can just fuck off at any time.

Anyway that's all of them, I still haven't come up with their names (Once I can't make puns, I start to struggle) so maybe people could suggest them but I hope you enjoy these character concepts and would like to see me develop them.

My brain is also currently falling apart so I may have got something wrong, anyway that's all for now.

[elene78-blog]

I don't think Jeremy is going to relapse into drugs in TBC. And to be honest, I don't think he'll have a car accident like many people say (I think there's already too much to tell without adding a car accident), buuuut… If he did, it could lead to something interesting.

Hear me out.

Jeremy wakes up in pieces in the hospital (it would be crazy to start with that parallel with Jean).

And well, Jeremy has broken several bones, has a severe concussion, and is in a neck brace from whiplash, but the first thing he asks when he can string two words together is if the person he crashed into is okay.

That person is okay. And Jeremy didn't crash because he fell asleep. The other guy was drunk/high, and Jeremy, exhausted as he was, didn't have quick enough reflexes to avoid him (another parallel to what Jeremy could have been like if he'd gone down that road, the person who crashed the car into him).

Jeremy faces a long recovery, at least two months, although he'll be able to return at the start of the season, and it doesn't look like he'll have any after-effects that would prevent him from playing. He'll just have to be careful with his rehabilitation.

The problem is the painkillers.

Jeremy is very nervous, because of course, they gave him them so he wouldn't suffer too much when he woke up and could rest, but Jeremy refuses to take any more. When Rhemann arrives, Jeremy is a nervous wreck.

"They gave me painkillers, Coach. I can't take any more."

"Jeremy, you're going to be in a lot of pain. This is understandable."

"No, no. Please don't force me."

Rhemann doesn't know what to do. Jeremy hears Jean's deep, shrill voice on the other side of the door, and he comes in, almost pushing past the nurse, with Laila equally in pain. Jeremy must be in terrible shape, because Laila and Jean immediately turn pale.

Jeremy continues to refuse to take any more painkillers. Laila tells him that's crazy, and the doctor tells him he'll be in a lot of pain without painkillers and won't be able to rest properly.

"Ibuprofen. I'll take Ibuprofen. Nothing stronger than that," Jeremy declares.

Laila and Cat, who arrives shortly after, tell him they'll monitor him to make sure he doesn't relapse, but Jeremy looks at Jean when he's tired of arguing. Laila and those closest to him may prioritize his well-being over his tacit consent, but there's one person who won't.

"You don't have to prove anything," Jean tells him.

"It's not for you. It's for me… And for my brother. I can't take that."

"It'll be very painful," Jean continues, because he knows it. Oh, he knows it very well.

Jeremy, his eyes bruised from the airbags' deployment and his nose swollen, says it.

"I'll tough it out."

Jean hates this situation, but he won't go against Jeremy's wishes, and he tells the others this. They don't agree, but they don't have to. It's Jeremy's decision.

Although everyone says he's crazy, Jeremy doesn't take anything other than ibuprofen, which, of course, isn't enough to relieve the pain (another parallel with Jean).

Jeremy spends horrible days, barely sleeping because of the pain. He cries sometimes, but he doesn't ask for painkillers even once. Jean stays with him the whole time and grumbles when Laila comes to replace him. Jeremy asks them to leave him alone, but of course they don't.

As the days go by, the pain becomes bearable.

His mother visits him once, and Analisse and William visit him after work to bring him clothes and his French books. His mother and sister seem shocked, as if they believe it's all fake until they see him. They recriminate him and don't stay there for long, uncomfortable because Jean is there, silent but vigilant like a guard dog. Jeremy's father doesn't call him, but it's gotten to the point where Jeremy doesn't even remember him.

Kevin calls. Jean and he argue on the phone.

Jeremy forces Jean to leave for a few hours to shower and rest a little. He begs him because Jean is the most loyal and kind man in the world, and Jeremy doesn't deserve someone like that by his side. He gives in under the pretext that Cat will be here in a few hours to keep him company. Jeremy insists he doesn't need her, but Jean doesn't want to "listen to nonsense."

Jeremy manages to get some sleep when the worst is over and he's left alone.

When he opens his eyes again, Bryson is looking at him with a bland smile.

Jeremy's pulse races.

"You never get enough of attention, huh," Bryson tells him. Bryson unleashes a hate speech toward Jeremy, something he's been bottling up for years. He talks about his grandmother. He talks about how his father left him, Jeremy, perfect Jeremy, in charge of everyone, and Jeremy concludes that Bryson is high on cocaine, or worse. Those dilated pupils prove him right.

Bryson calls him a faggot and other such things. Bryson mentions Jean. Jeremy is fed up with it and says, "Don't blame me for being a loser, Bryson. Do yourself a favor and get help instead of wasting your time hating me so much."

Bryson squeezes Jeremy's bruises until Jeremy tears up from the pain. Then Bryson calls the nurse and tells her Jeremy is in terrible shape and needs painkillers, the strongest they have. Jeremy tries to speak, but Bryson squeezes the healing broken joint, and Jeremy screams.

The nurse brings the painkillers.

And then Jeremy screams the first thing that comes to mind.

A single phrase in French and a name.

Jean appears in the doorway like a tornado, her eyes fixed on Bryson, with Cat and Cody in tow. Bryson immediately backs away from Jeremy.

"I'm going to separate your flesh from your bones," Jean says, and looms over Bryson.

A huge commotion erupts, and when Jean slams Bryson's head against the window, the nurse says she's going to call security. Jeremy has a revelation.

"Call the police!" he yells. "He's drugged. He might even have something on him. Call them."

Bryson panics. Jean smiles. It's not a friendly smile at all.

The police show up within minutes, and with Jeremy in bed completely clean, and Bryson drugged and carrying drugs, there's no denying the obvious.

After this, Jeremy is completely disowned by his family. Then there's silence. Bryson wasn't carrying cocaine, but pure heroin. He's been shooting up for months. It also turns out he's a fairly well-known drug dealer in Princeton. Bryson is immediately admitted to detox, and Warren must pay the police much more money than he had to to keep them quiet about the banquet.

Jeremy can't go home after this, but… at least this time he's been able to save a brother.

[saycheeeese]

Zombie Apocalypse x JJK (Part 2)

By some strange miracle, the four have you haven't encountered any zombies since you met - which makes it two days. They warmed up to you fine enough, but still, you can't help but envy the special bond they have in times like these. Good for them, you think. At least they have something to fight for. Or someone.

They led you to a dilapidated restaurant, soundlessly weaving their way through the haphazard tables and seats, and took you into the pantry. Though it was dusty cold, it certainly had ample space - and the racks were lined with canned foods and non-perishables: dried beans, oatmeal, uncooked porridge boxes, white rice, boxed pasta, powdered milk, vats of honey, bottles of spirit, hard cheeses, and a stack of dried fruit. It was difficult for you to suppress the rumble in your stomach while they quickly fixed a tiny meal that would do.

Yuuji and Nobara had fought like animals to snag the big container on the top rack, and without them even noticing, Megumi had silently retrieved it, leaving them to fight. The plastic container had oats soaked in milk, and it was a lot of them.

"Help yourselves," Megumi said, sitting cross-legged on the floor where you and the two joined him. They took heaping spoonsful straight from the dish, and you'd hesitated before digging in.

"Is this ... porridge?" You'd inquired - the food was not so bad. At least it wasn't rotten.

"Yup," Yuuji nodded, swallowing his bite hastily and choking. Megumi punched his back hard, a loud thump sounding in the pantry, and his face turned red. Nobara shifted closer to you, disgust written on her face.

"We soak them overnight in milk," she explained, "Or we keep them soaking as long as we're gone from ... home." She said the last word a bit quietly, and you nodded, taking another bite. What had happened of your home? You shook the thought from your head. In this world, love was a weakness that could be used against you.

Despite the yawning cavity in your stomach, you'd filled up pretty quickly and excused yourself. They'd covered the porridge and put it back, Nobara turning to you.

"What next? Want to sleep, or ...?" She tilted her head.

"Kick some butt?" Yuuji raised a brow, his smile less brighter.

"Neither. We have to go and get some new tools to sharpen our weapons," Megumi announced, arms folded. "We can't kill them with a blunt stick and a can of beans."

You dipped your chin once. It was probably good for you to acquire a new weapon. You unbound your hair and tied it into a braid, the bun falling apart. The laces in your shoes long since gone, you catch up to them.

"Where are we going?" You ask as the four of you exit the safety of the restaurant.

"There's a house some streets away," Yuuji debriefs you, one hand on his crooked, rusted dagger, and focus on his surroundings, "that belonged to a either a mayor or a weaponsmith. You should see the basement - it's full of knives and swords and daggers and arrows."

"We stock up from there about every month," Nobara says from behind you. She and Megumi bring up the rear while you and Yuuji lead the team. Team. A small smile blooms on your lips, and you immediately smother it, scared to let yourself be happy nowadays - because your happiness is always snatched from you.

Yuuji doesn't miss it. "She smiles!" He whisper-shouts, grinning, flipping the dagger in his hand. "You know, you look good when you smile. Alive."

"I ... don't deserve to smile, you know," you confess. "I've killed too many people, and everything I've ever loved has - you know, died. Or zombie-fied."

Yuuji doesn't flinch, like you expected him to. Murderer. He gives you a sideways glance, and his eyes are full of sorrow and understanding. He looks at you for a moment, then softly says, "You know, I also thought that. That ... I don't deserve this all. I don't deserve them. Because I killed a lot of people." He swallows. "But that’s exactly why you - we - deserve to smile. Because the world’s taken everything it could from you, and you're still here - still human. Still you. That smile? It’s not a betrayal. It’s rebellion. You're showing them that they can destroy your world all they like, but they can never destroy you. Let them rot and die at your hands - you're alive; so you deserve to feel alive."

You worry your lip, not letting the tears burning your eyes fall.

“Wow. That’s dramatic," Nobara nudges you with her elbow playfully as she sidles up to your side. "You should write a memoir. ‘How I Killed Everyone and Still Managed to Look Hot While Crying in the Dark’ Bestseller, easy.”

You roll your eyes. "You should write 'How I'm Living In a Zombie Apocalypse and Still Manage to Look Gorgeous and Have Shiny Hair.' Honestly, are you aiming for a shampoo commercial?"

"Pfft, I've dyed it," she dismisses your compliment like a mere fly. "It w-"

The rattle of tin and scuffling shoes makes you instantly tense, back straight and legs apart, dagger poised in hand. Well, what's left of it.

Nobara flanks your right and Yuuji your left, Megumi as silent as a cat behind you, obviously alert.

"Did you - did you hear it?" You breathe, your breath clouding in the musty, cold air. Your ears pick up obscene groaning noises before you spot them.

Five zombies, limping towards you all with unusual speed, blood smeared on their clothes and splattered on their faces. You cringe, and clench your dagger tightly. "Company," you say under your breath.

"I hope you weren't lying when you said you could kill them," Megumi whispers in your ear, "because we'll need all hands we can get."

"I thought you could fight?" You slightly turn, his face too close and eyes wide, assessing.

"We can," his breath tickles the shell of your ear, "but we need to be fast if we don't want more to come - and you might prove a distraction if you scream for help."

You nod sharply, pivoting ahead, a plan in your mind.

"We got seven incoming!" Nobara hissed. You start. Seven? Two more must've been hiding.

"I told you this path was cursed," Yuuji groans, his fists poised.

You take a deep breath and roll up your sleeves. "Weapons can wait," you mutter. You scan the area once more before sprinting. A garbage can, scaffoldings, something that resembles an oil can, some fractured glass shards and heaps of stone; gravel, flint, rock, granite and other unidentified materials. You'll make it work.

Your feet are a blur as you overtake the nearest zombie without it noticing. By the time it realized its target vanished, you kick its back hard and bury your dagger in its skull. The zombie is flung ahead - straight onto Nobara's ready dagger. She recoils. "I didn't even aim."

"You're welcome," you breathe, focusing as two more round on you. The other four zombies aim for your team - very well. They can fight, you think.

You rip a bent metal bar from the scaffolding and duck low. One stumbles into the bar, and you lift. Momentum does the rest. It somersaults over you and cracks against the pavement, its innards oozing out.

You barely pause to breathe. An oil can glints beside a trash bin. You snatch it and hurl it at the last one, your shoulder burning. It bursts and black slick spreads under the zombie. You pivot, wrench open the dumpster, and catch it mid-stumble. You drag it halfway in, then slam the metal lid on its neck. Over. And over. And over.

It stops moving after the third. You flip your dagger in your hands and slice it through its head. The blunt edge does little to harm. You swear colorfully and instead pick up a shard of mirror - just a sliver - and jab it into its eye.

You whirl back, chest heaving, hands covered in rotting blood, the oil creating a path from the can to the middle of the street. Movement at the corner of your eye makes you look up - shit. Zombie backup.

Four more zombies drop down from a ramshackle building, the crooked stairs giving them purchase. In a matter of seconds, they descend and approach your friends. Shit. Eight zombies.

They make quick, neat work of the zombies, but you know that more will come if you don't leave quick. Your eyes dart across the area - and you're moving before you know it.

You retrieve a piece of flint from the corner, pivot on your feet and bolt back, kneel beside the oil spill and whip out your dagger. You mutter some prayers to whoever's listening, and strike the dagger against the flint - once, twice, thrice.

Nothing, nothing, n-

A spark. You rub it again, your breath caught in your throat.

"Is she-" Nobara's voice floats over to you. She grunts and impales a zombie.

"Please tell me she's not doing what I think she's doing," Yuuji grits his teeth as he punches a zombie, its head twisting a full 180 degrees.

"Why would she light a fire?" Megumi adds, beating the hell out of two zombies.

You look up. "GUYS! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM THEM!"

You only give them one warning before lighting the oil, sparks igniting from your dagger. You uncoil to your feet and run. Faster than you've ever run, your feet barely touch the ground as the four of you scurry to the end of the alley and beyond. You're running, out of breath, when you feel the heat at your back, the smell of charred flesh and burning ash singeing your nostrils. You deem it safe to stop, and the four of you halt your frantic dashing.

Megumi wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back against him, closer to the group and away from the fire. His chest heaves behind your back, and it takes a while before you all are composed. You slip out of his grip, your face inexplicably warm.

"What the hell-" Yuuji chokes.

"Coast is clear," you mutter.

The three of them glance at each other - and then grin. Fiendishly.

"I knew I liked you for a reason," Nobara claps you on the back.

"You're terrifying," Yuuji grins. "Terrifyingly amazing! Next time, warn us before you go full apocalypse MacGyver."

"I'll admit, I'm impressed," Megumi stuffs his hands in his pockets, a ghost of a smile on his face. "You should be proud of those skills, not horrified by them. Saving our asses back there - thank you."

You shrug, a warm feeling in your gut. And you smile, your face lighting up. Smoke puffs from behind you, the ruby and amber flames doused out - thankfully. You turn to them.

"Let's retrieve our weapons, shall we?"

★ Who do you want reader to end up with? Yuuji or Megumi? Part 3 soon ★

[elzifelzi]

PHANTOM

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Chapter 19: Haunted Hallows Part 4.

After their little episode the group went back to their respective rooms for some well needed rest.They especially needed it for what they were soon to experience in the coming days. 

The night had passed by rather quickly and it was now morning Dan and Tucker got up early with Sam waking up much much later. She woke to find Dan and Tucker out at the front of the house in their sweats, Tucker made eye contact with her and waved her over to them. 

Sam:”What are you guys doing?”

Tucker:”Well as evident from your little ghost run in last night we know Dan is useless without his powers.”

The ghost boy shook his head in agreement.

Dan:”This is true…”

Tucker :”And we can't risk Danny going ghost and possibly giving away our location at least not until we know for sure that he can face whoever Skulker sends our way next.“

Dan:”This is also true..”

Tucker: “So I had an idea,What if Danny didn't have to go ghost to use his powers?“

Dan:”I've done it before 

Sam:”But won't Skulker still be able to track him?”

Dan:”I thought of that but we realized that skulker isn't tracking my powers just my ecto signature..” 

Sam:”ummm explain…”

Tucker:”After doing some research based on the ghosts Danny has fought before, I figured out that an ecto signature is something unique to each ghost's undead body.. It's essentially an energy that envelopes a ghost's body causing it to exist outside of the ghost zone.. “

Sam:”ahh I think I get it so since Danny can turn his ghost half on and off he can do the same with his ecto signature?”

Tucker:”exactly so all we need to do is get Danny used to using his powers in his human form and problem solved... He may never need to go ghost again!”

Dan:”Well you see, that won't help with the whole secret identity thing and what not..sooo.”

Sam:”Danny's right, but at least it'll give us the edge that we need out here. I can't always be saving your asses. “

She shoots him a smug grin.

Dan:”shutup”

Dan playfully nudges Sam

Tucker :”Speaking of which, what happened last night?”

Dan raises an eyebrow at tucker. 

Dan:”What do you mean?”

Tucker :”Well you guys were gone for a while and the phone call couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes.. So what were you doing after you guys escaped the ghost?”

Dan and Sam simultaneously recall the somewhat steamy exchange they had moments before Dan's phone went off and the two of their faces turned crimson red in embarrassment. 

Dan and Sam:”I-I-it W-was n-nothing!!!!”

Their embarrassed stammering didn't go unnoticed by Tucker who shot them a knowing glare.

Tucker :”It doesn't seem like nothing..”

Dan:”nah we just lost track of time is all... R-right Sam?? “

Sam:”yeah right... Well you guys should get started on training. I'm gonna grab something to eat since I kissed breakfast.....”

Tucker gave Sam a confused look and when it dawned upon her what she had said her face became redder than even humanly possible.

Sam :”I mean MISSED!!! I missed breakfast.”

Before she could make an even bigger fool of herself she left. Tucker finding the entire situation funny just chose to ignore it and refocused his attention on Dan.

Tucker:”Look man,we need to talk..”

Dan was in the process of stretching but stopped after seeing Tucker's rather serious expression.

Dan:”uh sure,about what?”

Tucker:”I'm sorry about yesterday man, I shouldn't have come at you like that,Just with Skulker and everything that happened I just…”

Immediately Dan waved his hand dismissively,in his mind Tucker hadn't said anything that wasn't true and maybe Dan needed to hear it.

Dan:”It's fine,besides you weren't wrong…I just didn’t want to hear it.”

He lets out a weak chuckle as a way to indicate to Tucker that he was fine with it but his friend wasn't fooled one bit.

Tucker:”No… listen…dude..you got hurt..you were damn near on the verge of death,the horror I felt seeing it couldn't even be comparable to what you must've felt and I know that but ... .being your friend knowing the kind of life you went through its …….”

Dan cuts him off.

Dan:”you don't have to say it dude,I know..but believe me when I say that it's because you know my past that I'm glad you said something.”

Tucker:”Really?”

Dan nods.

Dan:”Dude you're my best friend in the whole world.I need you, to be straight with me more than anyone else,I don't need you sugarcoating shit cuz you think I can't handle it…nor do I want you to.”

He extends his fist to Tucker.

Dan:”you got that?”

Tucker nods before bumping Dans Fist with his own. 

Tucker:”Bet!”

Tucker:”Speaking of your past,I know your folks called you last night,how're you feeling about that?”

As Dan recalls the intense feelings he experienced the prior night he begins rubbing the bridge Of his nose.

Dan:”not Good…”

Tucker:”Wanna talk about it?”

Dan:”not really, but I'm sure you're gonna make me.”

Tucker:”Then start talking.”

A sigh escapes Dans lips

Dan:”They told me that they're ready to bury The hatchet…that they're ready to move past everything that happened.”

Tucker:”Isn’t that a good thing?”

Dan:”It would be if it was for the right reasons.”

Tucker:”What do you mean?”

Dan:”Apparently Jazz is missing,and she's been missing for a while so…..”

Tucker cuts him off almost immediately, knowing what Dan was insinuating.

Tucker:”So you think they reached out to you because they don't wanna deal with the guilt of having both a missing daughter and an estranged son?”

Dan nods.

Tucker:”Look I understand your parents aren't really the best and I get why you would be apprehensive to let them back in, but…and this is just my opinion if it feels like they're trying to make a genuine effort..It wouldn't hurt to meet them halfway on it..”

Dan:”You don't seriously expect me to forgive them,do you?”

Tucker Shakes his head.

Tucker:”No,It wouldn't be fair to you.You don't have to forgive them,hell you don't even have to talk with them but I know you're hurting and I know that while you are angry at them,you don't want to be.So if you really do wanna make any kind of dent in that huge wall of trauma you got maybe try talking to them on your terms,and if they still choose to be thick headed then I'd say Screw them!”

And there it was,the famous Tucker Foley wisdom that Dan could never refute no matter how much he tried.It was moments like this that made him truly realize how lucky he was to have Tucker by his side,of course he'd never outrightly say it,but his friend was more than smart enough to figure it out.

Dan:”I think you're right…”

Tucker scoffs.

Tucker:”I mean I'm rarely ever wrong.”

Their conversation lulls to a close as Dan's training was about to commence.

Dan:”So how's this work?”

Tucker :”Well, we're gonna do tests that are specifically tailored to your ghost powers.. The 1st is intangibility.”

Dan:”So what, you're just gonna throw rocks at me until they pass through me?”

Tucker :”yup”

Without warning Tucker threw a barrage of rocks at Danny all of which hit him Dead on.. Leaving small rock shaped wounds on his body..

Dan:”What the hell Tucker!!!!” 

Tucker :”what?” 

Dan:”at least give a guy a heads up!!”

Tucker:”Sorry, heads up!”

Tucker threw a final rock at Dan and for a brief moment the ghost boy's eyes flashed green and he was able to turn intangible..with relative ease.He assumed he had just gotten much better at using his powers but,could it have been something more? Dan didn’t ponder the thought for very long he couldn't, they had a lot of ground to cover as far as his powers were concerned and an undetermined amount of time to do it.Trying to make the most of their time they spent the rest of the Day testing out Dan's other ghost powers and by the time they were done night had eventually fallen.Then feeling satisfied with the days events they retreated to their living room to discussed Dan's progress. 

Sam:”So what powers can Dan use?”

Tucker:”Well so far the only confirmed abilities are.. His basic ghostly strength, intangibility, invisibility and ghost ray..the catch is all these are at less than Half their full strength while in his human form.”

Dan:”Either way it's still some progress.”

Tucker nodded his head in agreement.

Tucker:”Also, I'm still working on it but I may have come up with something to help us fight off the ghosts!”

Sam:”That's amazing Tucker!

Dan:”Yeah how did you manage that?”

Tucker scrolls through his phone for a bit before showing Dan blueprints for a thermos like device.

Dan:”Hey I recognize this thing..”

Tucker:”It's one of your mom's old designs,It's supposed to be able to trap ghosts.”

Sam:”Sick! So this thing could seal away Skulker or something?”

Tucker:”Basically.”

Dan:”Then its completion is definitely on the top of our list of priorities.”

Tucker:”I couldn't agree more.”

They chatted idly for a while longer before they each retired to their respective rooms for that night,unbeknownst to them while they slept the most unholy of alliances was being formed against them. In the ghost zone the mysterious figure had done exactly as skulker ordered him to and brought him Vlad masters. They arrived at Skulkers Island where he was torturing the blind and defenseless box ghost under the guise of helping the ghost perfect his new ability but really he was mainly doing it for fun.

???? :”skulker?”

Skulker :”what is it now Technus? “

The ghost pulled over his hood to reveal green skin with white circuit-like markings along his face and body and long white hair tied in a ponytail and shaved at the sides; he wore large square framed tinted glasses and had jagged teeth. 

Skulker :”why have you disturbed me? I was just about to rip off his hand.”

Technus:”that can wait.. I got you the human you were looking for..” 

Technus points to Vlad who had been too busy admiring the ghost zone to pay attention. 

Skulker :”Finally ready to reveal your true Nature Vlad!?!”

Vlad flashes him a mischievous grin and In a Flash of light Vlads human appearance changed to a more ghostly mischievous appearance  his skin turned blue and his vampiric qualities were made apparent by his glowing red eyes,sharp fangs and his jet black hair and goatee which took the shape of horns. 

Skulker flashes him a grim

Technus :”So why did you keep it hidden?” 

Vlad:”A half ghost running a ghost hunting agency?If I had ever been found out then everything I worked hard to obtain all these years would’ve been wasted!”

Technus:”So you let Skulker and the other ghosts do your dirty work..gathering materials from the ghost zone to enhance your ghost hunting machinery and in turn make More money without ever having to Get your hands dirty.”

The halfa shrugged 

Vlad:”It's just business,I prefer to only use my ghostly abilities when the situation requires to.A While back I realized that you would probably need my direct help for this grand mission of yours.”

Technus:”Grand mission,how much has Skulker told you?”

Vlad scoffs 

Vlad:”Oh Skulker had managed to keep a very tight lip on most of the important information Especially after Daniel got his powers. All he let me know was that after his plans were completed and the boy was secured I'd be rewarded handsomely and I never pressed further.”

Technus:”So if Skulker never told you anything,what are you going on about?”

Vlad:”please, you really think i haven't figured out what you need young Daniel for?”

Technus :”how would you know what we need him for?”

A chuckle escapes from Vlads mouth.

Vlad:”You see, I'm a rather smart man and I love my research. The boy is the key to the Else Awareness isn't he?. I know how to take you there... “

 Technus Froze, He couldn't believe what he was hearing could this human have really figured out their plans?He looked over to Skulker who hadn't batted an eye,he was simply waiting to know more and Vlad,who was feeling confident that he had the high ground approached Skulker with full intent to give it to him.Eventually Technus recovered from his trance like state and spoke up.

Technus:”how do you know what the Else Awareness is? it's supposed to be a myth!!” 

Vlad grew increasingly amused by the ghost's floundering. Contrary to the polite and patient demeanor he had in his human form as a ghost he reviled In watching beings who he viewed as below him squirm under his influence and right now he was having the time of his life.

Vlad:”if a myth was able to produce such a reaction from you,I fear to see how You would behave when faced with the truth.”

He walks over to Skulker's empty throne and sits down feeling quite confident in his position. His ego was inflated even more when the Hunter did nothing to stop or oppose him; he just waited in anticipation of what Vlad had to say next.

Vlad:”A long time ago I realized that Skulker's partnership with me had to have had more benefits to him than simply turning A blind eye to his antics on earth..so I did some digging in both the human and ghost world and I eventually arrived at this conclusion. What is so valuable that the greatest hunter in the ghost zone would go through the lengths of allying himself with a known, ghost hunter to get?It would have to be something that wasn't easily attainable,something that you couldn't just find in the ghost zone.Then after that I wondered why you'd seek me out specifically.  Yes it could be for my wealth and influence,but after working with you for a while I knew it could never be that ,I understand that you sought me out because somehow, someway you managed to figure out that I was a halfa.”

Skulker simply grunted.

Vlad:”But you didn't hunt me,surely a ghost and human hybrid would've been the perfect prey but that wasn't it either so I dug a bit deeper and scoured through all the ancient texts I learned of the Else Awareness and that's when I knew for certain what you were after.”

Taken aback at what was excellent deductive reasoning on Vlads part, Technus quickly jumped on the defensive.

Technus:”You have no idea what you're talking about,The Else Awareness is nothing but a rumor!!”

Enraged at the Ghosts constant Denial Vlad lashed back.

Vlad:”Do you take me for a joke?”Why else would you seek me out!? Why else would a Hunter like Skulker pass up the ultimate prey not once but twice!!?? It's because You need a halfa to gain access to it. I'm guessing that's why you sought me out at first but you quickly realized my willingness to betray my human side for personal gain made me ineligible for the task. Then Daniel got his powers and began pursuing heroics, so you once again jumped at the cause.But young Daniel wouldn't be too keen on being your tool So you asked Me to jump in hoping that I could sway him. Am I right or Am I right?”

A grin grows on Skulkers face this human was clever and he respected that,this entire time Skulker thought he was stringing Vlad along,but he couldn't have been more wrong Vlad had been in control since the very beginning everything had just been Vlad feigning ignorance on his side until Skulker had no choice but to let him in on his plan.While he hated being used even Skulker had to admit it was very crafty.

Skulker :”how do you know the location of the Else Awareness?”

Vlad :”because I've seen it with my own eyes.”

Enraged by Vlads words, Technus seized him by his collar thinking that Vlad was mocking him.

Technus”:do you take us for fools!!? How could you have seen the Else awareness!!? Not even residents of the ghost zone have found it!”

With ease Vlad pushes the ghost off of him  and dusts himself off.

Vlad:”as I predicted you know very little of what you seek. Your higher ups would be very ashamed.” 

Technus: “what do you mean?” 

Vlad:”Think about it...the ghost zone Is a flipside of earth correct?”

Technus nodded.

Vlad:”And the Else awareness is in the ghost zone right?”

Skulker :”where are you going with this?”

Vlad:”I'm saying that surely the Else awareness has to have an equivalent in the human world.”

Skulker :”how do you know this?”

Vlad pulls out his phone and shows Skulker and technus pictures of a worn out looking book.. The book had a gold clasp on it and a picture of a skull with one eye. 

Skulker :”What is this?” 

Vlad :”more proof that you 2 are  fools. This is the Spectral Archive. Everything there is to know about the ghost zone is in this book..” 

Technus:”That book has been lost for ages. How'd you get it?”

Vlad:”In my many travels, whilst doing research on ghosts in the human and ghost worlds I stumbled upon it...it's missing a few pages now.. But it's intact enough that I've managed to locate the human world equivalent of the Else awareness.:

Skulker:”where is it?”

Vlad:”haunted Hallows....:

Meanwhile back at haunted hallows the trio were relaxing outside after a long day of training. 

Tucker :”So Sam , I've been meaning to ask you, why'd you pick this place as our hideout?”

Sam:”mmm?”

Tucker:”I mean you said that they have numerous other houses at different locations right, so why this one? Surely there had to be others further from where we lived right?”

Sam sat up from her lounge chair and turned to face the two boys.. 

Sam:”Part of the reason is because sure it's close but it's also uninhibited noone around to bother us.”

Dan:”That makes sense,and the other part?”

 Sam:”alright I'll tell you but promise you won't freak..”

Dan:”I'm literally a freak soo....”

Sam:”soo my parents used to bring me to this specific house a lot after we moved,i guess it was their favorite out of all of them or something But as a kid I noticed a lot of freaky shit happening.. People disappearing, creatures lurking around at night, animals floating all kinds of freaky shit. This was actually where I saw my first ghost and as I got older the shit I saw got freakier.”

Dan:”that is freaky”

Sam:”After my parents died I visited here a couple more times. I began doing some investigating as to why this place seemed like a haunting hotspot and I found out that this entire village is coated in the same energy that ghosts let out.”

Dan:”this place is lined with ecto energy?”

Tucker:”But that's not possible is it?”

Sam:”it shouldn't be, but after more research I found out that this place isn't even really on the map.. Like the spot on the map that would be haunted hallows is just an empty plot of Forrest.when I asked my Gran how my folks found this place and she said that they just stumbled on it one”

Tucker:”So it doesn't exist?”

Sam:”more like it shouldn't exist... In our realm that is?”

Dan and Tucker were awestruck. What could she mean by that? Where was she getting this information?And what did this mean for them?Luckily, they didn't have to wait long for an answer.Sam went into the house and soon reemerged holding pages that looked similar to the ones from the book Vlad talked about. 

Sam:”These pages are from some Ancient ghost book. I was looking through Dan's parents notes and I found them…at first glance they looked like random scribbles but when I looked over them again I found out that this place is actually in the ghost zone!”

Dan:”What do you mean ? How are we in the ghost zone?”

Tucker:”Danny I don't think she means we're literally in the ghosts zone, I think she means that this place belongs in the ghost zone..”

Sam nodded

Dan:”So what? it moved from the ghost zone to the human realm. How is that even possible?”

Sam:”I don't know? But according to these pages this place is the key to finding some place called the Else awareness..”

Dan:”So you brought us here to look for it?” 

She shakes her head

Sam:”if it is what the pages make it out to be then chances are he doesn't even know it exists,which means it's not likely that he'd find us here.”

Dan picks up the pages and glances over them.. 

Dan:”The Else awareness, I wonder what's in there.”

To be continued 

We back at it!! it's been a minute since the last one but i'm back!

nothing but lore dumps this chapter but i hope you guys enjoy. Also Technus is revealed he just looks like a dirty man

Also first official appearance of Vlad plasmius as well

READ the other released Chapters here.

[mygloriousmoon]

Work can't end fast enough

Domestic fluff with Jackson!Joel

Jackson!Joel x Reader

Rating: slightly nsfw (suggestive)

word count: 2.3k+

Summary: Joel wants to go back home to his wife but work keeps delaying him.

(Inspired by that episode of Modern Family where random stuff kept cockblocking Jay and Gloria lol)

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It had been a hard month for the both of you. Not just hard in the way this world could be — not just chaos and survival. This was something else. The upsurge of new people in Jackson meant many things had to change in the town you loved, starting with the basic constructions that Joel oversaw. You, meanwhile, worked together with the council in charge of looking over the rations and quotas, as well as the living situation for these new arrivals. Moving around some old ones here and there, changing a rule or two, you looked it over with your diligent heart and a strong desire to give back to the community who had given you this life. One in which you could be privileged enough to worry about things like salt and sugar passing around rather than being another grave, unmarked and forgotten.

Your rubbed your tired eyes over your glasses,  one you and Joel took turns wearing. Your sight landed on your husband, hand on his hips, talking to the young men in charge of doing things he at his age could no longer. You smiled to yourself; he hated admitting that. Always preferred "Well, had to save somethin' for the youngins. Boosts morale." 

It was adorable as much as it was concerning— how much extra work he would take up just to show you that he still got it, the man he met you as, the man you grew older with. Like you needed any convincing at all with how he lit the tendrils of desire inside you every time he looked your way. It would, however, always end with him taking extra rest days which you didn't complain, those days were your favorites: just the two of you, quiet and close, wrapped around each other in bed. Talking. Touching. Loving. 

But the past month… well, the latter hadn’t happened as much as you would’ve liked. But you can't blame anyone, you two were just so busy. Most nights, you would come home and find him knocked out cold in the bed, his shoes not even off. And there were just as many nights you remember falling asleep on the couch and waking up in the bed, the other side cold and empty. 

You missed him. 

Joel turned his head to the window, as if he heard you thinking about him. When his eyes met yours he smiled. The kind that instantly made his face 10 times warmer. It melted you instantly. You missed his warmth. 

He gave you a little wave, subtle, almost shy — careful not to let the boys notice, then turned back to his work, the stoic expression returning again.

You stand up abruptly from your desk. Housing meeting be damned, you were going to sleep with your husband.

-

"That ain't how ya mix concrete." Joel grumbles, grabbing the shovel from one of the boys. "Here, lemme show ya how it's done. Back in my day, we had this tool called—ah, forget it. Just watch how I do it."

"Your wife." The scrawny one mumbled. 

"Whatd'ya say?" He frowns glancing up from his work. The biy nodded behind him. Joel whips his head back and there you are, walking towards him, arms wrapped around yourself. You give him a little smile, which feels private regardless of the 6 other pair of eyes on you. 

He lets the shovel fall to the ground and walks on up to you. 

"Hey, you alright?" He wipes at the ink smudge on your cheek. You have been working so hard. He would have told you how proud of you he is if he had any time. You look tired and god knows he looks like he could use some sleep. But he knows this town needs you and him. So he doesn't complain. Even though he misses you a lot. Going to sleep without asking you how your day was or waking up to a cold pillow was hell, even though his body got the message late he managed to take care of himself in the quiet moments in the shower, thinking of you.

You nod, "I am Joel. You have eyebags. I should be the one asking you."

He laughs softly, "You come 'round here just to make fun of me? I’ll have you know half that’s from worryin’ ‘bout you. Came home late last night?"

"Yes... this thing is taking more time than I thought. Wish I had a damn calculator that I didn't have to bump every other time I needed something new done." 

"I'll tell the patrol team to look out for one next time." 

"Joel?" You said softly.

"Hmm?" 

You looked up at him, shy smile on your face. He recognized that look instantly; he felt blood rushing to a place quite inappropriate for the time and place. He felt stupid that this could even happen to him at this age. You could still make him feel like that.

"Think you can make it back home early tonight?" You paused. Joel remained quiet, wanting you to lead the moment. "I will try as well. Since, you know-"

His eyebrows shot up in a faux cluelessness. You smile, flustured.

"Well, I want you."

He couldn't help the smirk that followed, "That so?"

"A lot. Do you?" 

"Hon, you got no idea—if it weren't for all these folks 'round us right now..." he shot a discreet glance back, "I'd have you backed up 'gainst that wall, lettin' you know exactly how I feel."

You feel your cheeks warm as you cough to cover it up, eyes darting to the teenagers behind him, trying way too hard to act uninterested in whatever you two were whispering. You gave Joel's shoulder a loud pat. "Alright Miller, get the job done." You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't make me wait." You added in a whisper, watching the familiar sparkle in his eyes return. 

"Will do Mrs. Miller, I'll see you at home."

-

Joel could not have been faster if he had been 10 years younger. He made a mental list of the things he had to move along. 

Laying foundation on this house.

Framing the house on that street. 

Deliver blueprints to Tommy.

The list went on. Normally he would have found this therapeutic, going along the list one by one at the pace he liked. 

But today, no. Today he was on a mission.

"Goddammit, give me that damn trowel!" He snatched the tool of the hand of the unfortunate fool who had the bad luck of being right in front of him. He wasn't doing nothing wrong, just was too goddamn slow. He bent down too quickly, knees cracking in a pop that had the younger man looking at him in concern. But Joel just continued on, quietly with a pace, the younger man couldn't help but admire.

"Quit starin' and grab the other one—get to work, we ain't got all day." 

-

"Boy, I swear—if you turn that board one more time, I'm goin' to lose my damn mind. That ain't a puzzle, it's a board. Set it down and drill it!" Joel barked out.

"I'm just double-checking the marks, Joel. I don't wanna mess it up." The guy, Trevor, defended himself.

"I want that sill plate down and bolted by the time I return back from Tommy's—or so help me god, I'll put this whole frame up myself with one bad knee and a box of rusty nails." 

"Woah Joel, chill out." Trevor looked over at the older man, "You got somewhere to be? Why you barking at me all of a sudden?"

Joel rubbed his forehead, exasperated. "My bad. Just get it done 'fore I'm back."

"Roger that." he chuckled.

-

"You okay Joel? You're all huffing and puffing. The stairs did a number on you?" Tommy chuckled, opening the door wider to his older brother. Joel just shot him a glare before shaking his head as he walked past him.

"Blueprints. Four houses—down the street. Need your signature here." He dropped the materials on the table and turned to his brother impatiently.

"Woah woah woah. Brother you just got here, sit down. You look like you'll blow up your lungs."

"Not today Tommy I just need you to get at that pen of yours-"

"Joel, wait." He grabs the prints from the table. "These need to laid over on top of the older print so we can tell where all the pipeline goes."

"Alright then you get on with it-"

"Yeah well I'm going to do this once I deliver these boxes to the canteen."

Joel exhaled hard through his nose. He glanced at the boxes — two of them, not that big — then back at Tommy like he was considering murder. "Give me the damn boxes."

"What? No, I got it—"

But Joel was already picking them up, one under each arm like they weighed nothing. "Ain’t got time to crawl through the day with you."

He was halfway out the door before Tommy could reply, boots thudding on the wood.

"What's with you getting all snippy on me?"

"Missus waiting." was all he said.

"C’mon now, don’t tell me you’re runnin’ off just ‘cause you miss her."

Joel stopped just outside the door, back still to him. "Got somewhere better to be, that’s all." And with that, he disappeared down the steps , quick, purposeful, stubborn as hell. 

Tommy just shook his head, chuckling to himself. "Old man’s still got it bad."

-

He could not push open the door faster. He took off his work boots to the side carelessly. 

"Honey I'm home." He hoped his eagerness didn't seep through too much. He looked forward to seeing you, the thought of you waiting here, warm and soft, laid out just the way you get... it made the work even more distracting to say the least.

He stepped into the room, his coat barely off his shoulder when his eyes caught to your hunched over a mess of paperwork on the table. You looked up at him, your eyes apologetic. 

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry... I'll be done soon just—" you sighed, rubbing your forehead. 

He walked over to you slowly. "It's alright my dear." He smiled softly, pulling a chair next to you. "Mind if I take a look?" You scooted your arm so that he could look over. "Gimme that." He gently took the glasses off your nose and put it on himself. "Let's see... hmm—" he rubbed along his chin looking over the papers carefully. "Deer this season, right right... dry rations look alright as well."

You watched him immerse himself in your work with a smile on your face. He looked so good like this. This was just how he was, making your life easier, a little more bearable, always finding a way to lighten your load. You leaned in to kiss his cheeks unable to help yourself. He smiled, eyes still reading the list carefully. 

"Beans, rice... yes, in order." You kissed along his jaw now as he listed the items one by one, suddenly overcome by this desire to have as much of his space as possible.

"Wheat— fuck darlin'" he grunted as your hand slowly unbuttoned his shirt, slow and purposeful. your mouth still hungry on his neck. 

"What?" You whispered along his neck during the little time you separated your mouth from him, "Don't act so coy now. Like I didn't see you barking orders all day today." 

He turned his head slowly to you, wanting to catch your mouth. "Don't wanna tire ya out sweetheart, know you had a long day." 

"What a gentleman," you smiled, biting your lips. "Never too tired for you." You wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

Joel turned fully, big hands anchoring your waist, pulling you closer, off the chair then finally to his lap. He pressed his mouth on you all desperate, like he was starving all day.

"God, I been thinkin’ ‘bout you all damn day... You can’t just show up at a man’s job, sayin’ you want him, like that ain’t the kinda thing that’ll knock a man clean off whatever he was doin’." He whispers gently between kisses.

"Maybe I wanted to knock you around a little." You smile, your practiced hands already getting rid of his shirt, fingers brushing skin like you know exactly where he needs to be touched.

"I was tryin’ to take it slow. Be respectable."

You laugh softly, brushing your nose against his. "When have you ever taken anything slow with me?"

He smirks, hand sliding around your waist. "First date. You had your hair down, in that god awful bar back in Boston."

You raise a brow. "You kissed me in that alley twenty minutes later."

Joel shrugs like that proves his point. "Felt slow at the time."

That makes you both laugh, heat and affection tangled up together. Then you shift your weight against him. You moan softly when you feel him below you. "I missed you so much." you murmur, all teasing melted into truth now, your voice quieter as your lips graze his neck.

He pauses for a second. "I missed you too." He says. It comes out quiet, earnest, like a truth he never says unless he means it down to the bone.

"Take me to bed cowboy." 

He smirks, "and your work?"

"I gotta take care of you first."

He let out a quiet breath— not quite a laugh, more like a surrender. "Darlin’..." His voice was rough, cracked open at the edges.

You didn’t need more words.

Joel stood, arms firm under you, lifting you like you weighed nothing. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively as he carried you to your shared bed. Every step was steady, like this was the part of the day he trusted most— not the work, not the talk, just this.

At the foot of the bed, he paused for half a beat, forehead resting lightly against yours. His voice dropped lower than a whisper.

"Ain’t nothin’ more important than gettin’ home to you."

Then he laid you down gently.

And for the first time all day, Joel finally let himself slow down.

[ruebossanova]

her watch: the series - part 11: tethered by heat

bodyguard!abby x female!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: SLOWBURN, smut af, olderlabby x younger!reader, reader is spoiled & bratty but sweet, nyc rich socialite vibe (think gossip girl)

summary: just read it bro

masterlist

————————————————————————————

the third week of june slid in with a kind of warmth that curled itself around your bones and stayed there. the house had quieted down after graduation and the whirlwind of the trip to greece. the tan lines on your hips were still fresh, the hickeys abby left on your thighs faded to soft bruises you touched at night when you missed her hands.

she hadn’t been required to be on the clock as often anymore. your dad said something about the threat level lowering during summer, fewer events, fewer public appearances. she was still there, of course. still stayed in the guest room, still hovered when you went out. but she wasn’t glued to your side like she used to be. not unless you asked.

and you did.

every single day.

"come lay with me," you'd whisper, pulling her down onto the oversized sectional while your mother cooked dinner in the next room.

"i'm not off yet," she'd mutter, eyes flicking to the hallway, jaw clenched like it always was now that things were soft between you.

"you will be in two hours," you’d murmur, lips brushing her shoulder.

she always folded. not instantly, but eventually. always.

mornings passed slow. she’d bring you breakfast sometimes without saying much, setting the tray beside you while you scrolled on your phone in bed. eggs. toast. a single raspberry placed in the middle of your plate just to make you smile. she’d pretend it meant nothing.

but everything meant something now.

you knew she needed a break. knew it from the way her eyes lingered on the window when the sunlight hit just right. from the way her hand would pause on the doorknob when she thought you were asleep. she was burning at both ends, even if she wouldn’t say it.

so you planned a trip.

“i found this place,” you said one evening, curling up beside her on the couch. your laptop balanced on your thighs, the screen glowing with photos of pale pink beaches and turquoise water. “we could go. just us. it’s safe. private. no one would know.”

abby raised an eyebrow. "you know i can't just leave."

"you wouldn't be leaving," you said, tone gentle, coaxing. "you'd be resting. with me. for once."

her eyes scanned the screen again. the bahamas. a private bungalow. open air bathrooms. a hammock on the deck.

"we could swim," you continued. "and eat fruit for breakfast and fall asleep with the windows open. you'd like it. you'd sleep better."

she exhaled, head tilting slightly. like maybe she was trying not to smile.

"and if something happens?"

"you'll still have your gun," you teased, nudging her hip with yours. "you'll still be able to protect me. you'll just be doing it… topless."

that made her laugh. quiet and reluctant, but real.

"you're evil," she muttered.

"you love it," you whispered, kissing her cheek.

and a few nights later, she said yes.

the tickets were booked. you both packed lightly — swimsuits, sundresses, abby’s fitted tanks and loose shorts. sunscreen and lip gloss and a polaroid camera that she said was ridiculous but ended up taking half the photos with.

the flight was smooth, your fingers threaded through hers beneath a shared blanket. she let her head rest against yours when you started to doze, her thumb tracing light circles into your thigh.

harbour island was quiet. soft. the kind of place that didn’t ask much of you. the pink sand beaches felt like something out of a dream, and the air smelled like salt and flowers and something warm you couldn’t name.

the bungalow was tucked at the edge of the beach, with shuttered windows that opened to the sea. inside: white sheets, bamboo floors, and the kind of quiet that made you both exhale.

abby stood by the window the first night, watching the waves.

"do you feel it?" you asked, stepping behind her, arms looping around her waist.

"feel what?"

"peace."

she was quiet for a moment.

"yeah," she said softly. "yeah, i think i do."

and just like that, summer began.

⸻

the first full day on the island started slow, just the way you liked it.

sunlight spilled across the bed in thin stripes, warming your skin before you even stirred. outside, the sounds of gentle waves and birdsong crept through the open windows, and for a moment you stayed still—nestled into abby’s side, her arm heavy around your waist, her breath soft against your neck.

neither of you had said a word yet. but her fingers curled slightly against your stomach, like she didn’t want to let go.

“we should get up,” you whispered eventually, voice hoarse from sleep.

abby grunted into the pillow. “no we shouldn’t.”

you giggled softly, stretching. “come on. we have a whole island to explore.”

“you’re warm,” she muttered. “and i’m comfortable.”

you turned in her arms so you could see her face — the barely opened eyes, the tousled hair, the lazy smirk starting to form.

“we’ll come back for a nap,” you promised, brushing your nose against hers.

her lips curved. “fine. you win.”

breakfast was easy and sweet — fresh fruit, soft bread, honey drizzled on warm pastries. you sat barefoot on the terrace, legs in her lap, abby picking mango slices from your plate like she had every right to.

the day bloomed from there. the two of you wandered into the nearby village hand-in-hand, dressed in light clothes and big sunglasses. you tugged her into tiny shops with painted tiles and sun-faded postcards. she held your bag without complaint, trailing behind you like a shadow with a crush.

“you’re really relaxed,” you noted, watching her sip iced espresso at a quiet corner cafe.

“it’s the sun,” she replied, flicking her gaze toward you. “or maybe it’s you.”

you blushed, kicking at her ankle under the table.

by the time you made it back to the villa, the sun had dipped low, casting the whole sky in watercolor orange and gold. your skin was warm, your cheeks flushed from sun and laughter, and abby looked like she belonged in this place — tan lines forming, hair messy, smile slow and rare.

as you stepped into the bedroom to change, she lingered at the doorway, her eyes dragging over the hem of your dress as you reached back to unzip it.

"you staying to watch, or you helping?" you teased, glancing over your shoulder.

she stepped forward without a word, hands replacing yours.

the air shifted.

she undressed you slowly — carefully — like every inch of skin she revealed mattered. and when you were bare before her, she didn’t say anything. just took a deep breath and stepped closer.

her lips found your neck, then your shoulder, then lower. you gasped as her mouth trailed down your body, and when her hands gripped your thighs, grounding and strong, you melted.

“lay back,” she whispered, voice rough.

you obeyed.

her mouth was reverent, slow, patient and devastating. you moaned her name like a prayer, your fingers in her hair, your hips rising to meet every stroke of her tongue. she didn’t stop until you were trembling, until your thighs shook around her shoulders, until your voice broke open on a breathless gasp.

and still — she didn’t pull away.

when she finally came up for air, her mouth shiny and her eyes dark, she kissed her way back up your body. “you’re gonna kill me one of these days,” she murmured against your jaw.

“worth it,” you breathed, tugging her closer. “so worth it.”

that night, curled against her chest, you swore the waves outside were echoing your heartbeat — steady, full, and entirely hers.

⸻

the day after was even hotter—humid and golden, the kind of heat that clung to your skin like silk. you spent the afternoon lying together on the private stretch of beach just down the slope from your villa, under a shaded canopy with cold drinks and soft towels. abby wore black swim trunks and a white tank top, sunglasses perched low on her nose, a book in her hand she hadn’t turned the page of in over fifteen minutes.

you, in your smallest bikini, kept glancing her way. watching how her fingers tapped the spine of her book. how her jaw flexed every time your legs shifted. how the sweat gathered at her collarbone and made the neckline of her tank cling tighter to her chest.

"you're staring," she murmured without looking up.

you smirked. "so are you."

she turned her head toward you slowly, one brow raised. "how could i not?"

the air between you thickened, and you rolled onto your side, propping yourself on one elbow. “you could do something about it, you know.”

abby sat up then, her sunglasses sliding down her nose, her eyes locked on yours. “don’t tempt me.”

"too late," you whispered, crawling over to straddle her lap.

she exhaled sharply, hands immediately gripping your hips. “in the middle of the beach?”

“we’re alone,” you said, lips brushing her ear. “besides… i need you.”

her jaw clenched. “say that again.”

“i need you, abby.”

she stood in one smooth motion, lifting you with her—hands under your thighs, lips brushing your shoulder as she carried you back to the villa.

—

you didn’t even make it to the bed.

the moment the door closed behind you, you were against the wall, mouths crashing together, hands everywhere.

abby's fingers curled into your bikini straps, tugging them down with agonizing slowness, her mouth not leaving yours for a second.

"been thinking about this since you moaned my name last night," she growled, pressing her thigh between your legs.

you gasped, rolling your hips down against her. "then shut up and do something about it."

her grin was dangerous.

she kicked off her shorts, pulled off your suit bottoms with a quick drag of her fingers, and carried you to the bedroom. you pushed her down onto the bed, both of you laughing breathlessly, then climbed over her again, thighs tangling.

your mouths met in another hungry kiss, tongues teasing, teeth grazing.

"this what you wanted?" abby breathed against your mouth.

you nodded, forehead pressed to hers. "want you like this. want to feel everything."

you rocked forward, your core grinding against hers, and both of you moaned at the contact. her hands flew to your waist, guiding you as your hips moved in tandem—wet and hot and dizzying.

“fuck,” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “baby… don’t stop.”

you didn’t.

the rhythm was slow, then faster, frantic, your bodies slick and desperate against each other, gasping and moaning each other's names. her hands gripped your hips hard, grounding you, and your head dropped to her shoulder, every nerve ending alive.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” she rasped into your ear.

“i’m yours,” you whispered back, voice breaking.

and when you came—tight, shaking, breath caught in your throat—she followed right after, her jaw clenched, her fingers trembling against your skin.

you collapsed into each other, sticky and flushed, kissing softly now. gently. reverently.

"you okay?" she whispered, thumb stroking your cheek.

you nodded, eyes fluttering closed. “never better.”

you lay tangled in the sheets again, the fan whirring above, the ocean wind dancing through the curtains—and this time, it felt like you’d found a secret that belonged only to you and her.

⸻

the next morning started quiet, soft.

the ocean breeze carried through the villa, fluttering the sheer curtains that lined the wide-open windows. you stirred first, eyelids fluttering as the sunlight filtered over the bed. abby was already awake, sitting at the edge of the mattress in nothing but her loose sleep shorts, back curved, forearms braced on her thighs.

she was watching the ocean, but when she felt your eyes on her, she turned. there was a softness there. not quite a smile, not quite sadness—just something quiet. something open.

"couldn't sleep?" you asked, voice still raspy with dreams.

she shrugged, reaching back to sweep her hair into a loose bun. "just thinking."

you rolled closer, sheets tangled around your hips, bare chest pressing lightly to her back as you wrapped your arms around her waist. "about what?"

abby leaned into your touch, head tipping slightly against yours. "this. you. how different everything feels."

you pressed a kiss to her shoulder, fingers tracing slow patterns across her stomach. "good different or scary different?"

"both," she murmured.

breakfast was late and lazy, eaten outside on the sun-warmed terrace. abby cooked while you squeezed fresh orange juice, music low in the background. there was a peace to the morning—a kind of rhythm that came with knowing each other deeply, comfortably.

she wore an old tank top, low on the sides, her sports bra visible with every move. you caught yourself staring at her arms again, her back flexing as she flipped golden brown slices of bread in the pan.

"you're staring," she said without looking.

"you're flexing."

"i'm cooking."

"same thing, really."

she huffed out a quiet laugh, and your heart swelled.

the two of you spent most of the day near the water—lounging under the shade of a swaying palm, toes buried in the sand, ice-cold drinks in hand. abby was starting to tan, her freckles standing out darker across her shoulders and nose. you leaned over at one point and kissed the bridge of it, grinning when she scrunched her face.

"what was that for?"

"just had to. you looked too good."

she shook her head, but her smile gave her away.

that afternoon, you took a scooter up the winding path to a lookout point. the wind whipped through your hair, and abby’s arms were tight around your waist as you drove, her voice in your ear saying, "slower," and "you missed the turn," and, occasionally, "fuck, you're gonna kill us."

but when you reached the top, it was worth it.

cliffs stretched endlessly before you, the ocean sparkling far below. she stood behind you, her arms around you again, and together you watched the sun begin its slow descent.

"ever think about the future?" you asked quietly, leaning back into her.

"all the time," she said.

"what do you see?"

abby was quiet for a long moment. then, softly: "you. safe. happy. wherever that is."

you turned in her arms, hands resting at her waist. "i want that too. but with you in it. not just watching. with me."

she kissed you then—soft and sure, hands cradling your face. it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent. just full.

full of everything unspoken. full of everything yet to come.

and as the sun set behind you, you held onto her like she was already your future.

because maybe she was.

⸻

that evening, the sky burned with orange and soft pink, and the heat of the day lingered long after the sun dipped below the horizon. back at the villa, you both moved in a comfortable haze—flushed from sun and salt, skin warm, hearts warmer.

you stood at the bathroom sink, brushing out your hair in the dim glow of the vanity lights. abby leaned in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze slow and lazy.

“you look good like that,” she said, voice a little rough from the sea breeze and maybe something else.

you raised an eyebrow, smirking. “like what? half-drenched and windburned?”

“yeah,” she murmured. “like you’ve been kissed by summer.”

you stepped closer, tossing your brush to the counter. “funny,” you said, looping your arms around her waist. “summer hasn’t kissed me yet.”

her hands found your hips automatically, thumbs sliding beneath the hem of your sleep shorts. “that a hint?”

“just saying,” you whispered, lips brushing her jaw. “i’ve been waiting.”

abby’s breath caught. her hands tightened, grounding you against her. but she didn’t kiss you yet. instead, she leaned down, her lips brushing just beneath your ear. “you drive me crazy when you tease.”

“i know,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes. “that’s the fun part.”

you spent the rest of the evening curled on the couch, bare legs tangled over hers, a bowl of fresh strawberries between you. you fed her one, slow and deliberate, your eyes locked on hers.

she bit into it, a drop of juice slipping down her lip. you leaned in and caught it with your tongue, and the look she gave you in return nearly lit the room on fire.

“you really wanna start something tonight, huh?”

you grinned. “maybe i do.”

but she didn’t take the bait—not yet.

instead, she pulled you closer, letting your legs tangle tighter, her lips brushing your temple. “not yet,” she said softly. “but soon.”

and with her arms around you and your cheek against her shoulder, you both knew the night was far from over.

you fell asleep like that—wrapped around each other, the ocean whispering outside, the promise of more lingering like electricity in the air.

⸻

you weren’t sure what woke you.

maybe it was the breeze brushing across your bare skin, or the subtle shift of abby’s body beneath yours. maybe it was just the way your pulse had been steadily rising for days, tension coiling tighter every night you fell asleep in her arms, untouched but wanting.

but this morning — early, just past dawn — you opened your eyes and found her already watching you.

the light was soft, barely there, casting shadows over the lines of her face. she looked serious. quiet. and then her fingers brushed your jaw.

"come here," she whispered, voice hoarse.

you leaned in slowly, and her lips met yours — warm, sure, no hesitation this time. her hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer until your chest pressed against hers, your thigh fitting snug between hers beneath the covers.

you kissed deeper, your fingers burying into her hair, tugging gently. she groaned, low and rough in her throat, and the sound lit something hot behind your ribs.

“been thinking about this since naples,” she murmured, her mouth grazing your neck. “since you wore that sundress and smiled like you knew what you were doing.”

“i did know,” you whispered back. “i wanted you to look.”

her teeth nipped gently at your jaw. “you wanted me to want you?”

“i wanted you to break,” you breathed. “like you are now.”

her hand slid beneath your shirt, palm dragging up your stomach, slow and firm. “baby, i broke the second you kissed me on that damn beach.”

you whimpered, arching into her touch as her fingers brushed under your breasts, teasing.

“abby—”

“shh,” she said, soft but firm. “let me take care of you.”

she kissed you again, deeper now, tongue parting your lips. your hips rocked on instinct, grinding slowly against her thigh. she felt it — the slick heat through your shorts — and her grip tightened.

“fuck,” she whispered. “you’re soaked already?”

“been wanting you,” you gasped, your nails digging into her back. “all week.”

she pushed the covers back, pulling your shorts down your thighs. her eyes dragged over you, hungry, reverent. “look at this pussy,” she said softly, thumb brushing your clit with just enough pressure to make you cry out. “fuck, you’re so wet for me.”

your hips jerked, and she caught them in place with her strong arm, holding you down as her fingers slid lower, slipping easily through your folds.

“you want my fingers?” she whispered, voice right against your mouth.

“yes,” you breathed. “abby, please—”

she gave you two, deep and slow, sliding them inside in one firm thrust that made your breath catch. you clenched around her, moaning softly as she curled them, searching until she found exactly what made your back arch.

“that’s it,” she muttered. “fuck, that’s it. you’re so tight. so fucking perfect.”

you rocked against her hand, your body trembling as she pumped into you, her thumb circling your clit just enough to keep you right on the edge.

you were babbling, lost in it, begging and gasping and barely coherent. “don’t stop, don’t stop, please—fuck, abby—”

“not gonna,” she promised, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “i’ve got you, baby.”

your orgasm hit hard — sudden and hot, your whole body clenching around her, thighs shaking. you cried out her name, fingers fisting the sheets, riding it out as she kept fucking you through it, slow and deep until you finally collapsed.

she didn’t stop kissing you, not once. not even when your legs went limp, not even when you couldn’t speak. she kissed your cheeks, your neck, your jaw, her free hand brushing sweaty hair from your face.

“you okay?” she murmured.

you nodded, barely able to catch your breath. “yeah. more than okay.”

she smiled, eyes soft. “good. ‘cause i’m not done with you yet.”

and the way she looked at you — steady, focused, wanting — made your stomach flip again.

you knew this summer had barely begun.

⸻

the sheets were tangled around you both, warm and sticky from the heat of your bodies pressed close together. the afterglow wrapped the room in a gentle haze, a quiet kind of happiness that filled the space between you.

abby’s breath was slow, steady, but her fingers trembled slightly as they traced light patterns along your side. you turned your head to catch her eyes—dark and searching, vulnerable in a way you rarely saw.

“why’d you hold back before?” you asked softly, your voice just above a whisper.

she hesitated, then exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing a bit. “fear, mostly. guilt. i’ve always felt responsible for you — more than just as your bodyguard.”

you reached up, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. “abby... you’re mine,” you murmured, voice thick with feeling. “you don’t have to be perfect to be loved.”

for a moment, her guard slipped. she kissed you—soft, hesitant at first, then with growing certainty, like she wanted to believe every word you said. when she pulled back, her lips trembled slightly, but there was a new light in her eyes.

“i’m trying,” she admitted. “for you.”

“and i’ll be right here,” you promised.

⸻

the sun dipped low, casting a warm golden glow over the resort’s beachside restaurant. you slipped into a slinky, deep-green dress that clung to your curves just right, the fabric shimmering with every step. abby wore a loose linen shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal the smooth skin at her collarbone.

over dinner, the conversation flowed easily—soft laughter mixing with the rhythmic sound of waves. when the meal ended, abby took your hand, guiding you to the small dance floor lit by lanterns swinging gently in the ocean breeze.

her hands settled on your waist, steady and sure. you rested your cheek against her neck, inhaling the scent of salt and cedarwood.

slow and unhurried, you moved together, the world narrowing down to the feel of her breath, the warmth of her body.

as you walked back to the bungalow, abby’s lips found the soft skin just below your collarbone. the bite was gentle but deliberate, a hickey blooming beneath your dress strap—a secret only she would know, and one that left a delicious ache every time you thought about it.

“can’t have you forgetting who you belong to,” she murmured, eyes dark and playful.

you smiled, heart pounding.

⸻

the last night wrapped around you like a storm. the moment you stepped inside the bungalow, the air crackled with desperate need.

abby’s hands were everywhere—pulling you close, lips crashing against yours with a hunger that matched your own.

you pressed against the door, fingers tangling in her hair as she lifted you onto the counter. the cool surface was nothing compared to the heat pooling between your legs.

her fingers slid inside you—fast, deep, messy—drawing gasps and moans that filled the small space.

“fuck, you feel so good,” she groaned, voice thick with desire.

you arched into her touch, hands roaming over her back, tracing every line and curve.

“please,” you begged, voice shaky, “let me touch you.”

abby hesitated, then with a small, breathless sigh, she nodded.

your hands found her hips, your lips trailing down her neck as you lowered your mouth to her most sensitive places. your tongue swirled, flicked, coaxing her breath into ragged gasps.

she clutched your hair, tugging gently as her hips pressed back against your mouth, riding your tongue with a wild, desperate rhythm.

when she came, it was with a soft cry, body trembling against yours.

you held each other close afterward, skin slick and hearts pounding, the world outside forgotten.

“you’re mine,” you whispered into her hair.

“always,” she breathed back.

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tags; @zombiecatsass @mxmsuki