#stall is clean and he's back to one blanket
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virtie333 · 3 months ago
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Unwanted Photo Dump
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specialgradefckr · 2 months ago
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here, kitty, kitty!
tw: dubcon/noncon, hybrid au, reader is literally a pet, loss of bodily autonomy, examination kink, slight medical play, genital piercings, possession
So, Satoru wants to get a cat hybrid.
Suguru supposes he shouldn't be surprised. Satoru's never hidden his porn history or anything. He's constantly suggesting they find a third, while instantly rejecting all suggestions.
A diva like him couldn't have sex with just anyone. And for Suguru himself, well, he preferred to have a certain level of... control in a relationship.
Which suited Satoru fine, most of the time, and Suguru was willing to concede on the rare occasion.
But Suguru doesn't have cat ears, a tail, and a pussy, and he can even admit that he misses the fairer sex sometimes, too.
They've been together so long, know each other so well. Familiarity breeding boredom, maybe. They're happy together, but Satoru wants more.
He's also incredibly needy, exactly the type of child who would beg mommy and daddy for a pet kitty.
That's also the type of child cats tend to despise. But no matter how many times he tries to explain it - "It's not that simple, Satoru" "A pet is a serious commitment, you know" - Satoru, much like a whining child, just doesn't listen.
And, well, Suguru is getting tired of telling him.
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So that's how they end up here - with you.
A beautiful thing. All curled up in the corner of your stall - cage, really. Your ears twitch at the noise, and you look up, wide-eyed and anxious in a way that tugs his heartstrings.
It's truly a pity that you're at a place like this.
The interior is well-decorated, clean, with lush carpets and furnishings. The interior of your cage has a soft-looking blanket bunched up in it, and plush bedding in the back.
But there's no mistaking its purpose. In the background, there are moans, whimpers, and the occasional sob.
Throughout the wide room, a few pets were being taken out, paraded for potential owners. Poked and prodded and played with.
You, like all the others, are completely naked.
These hybrids are for sex.
Suguru had almost wanted to leave right away, but Satoru had been so excited, dragging him in by the hand. "Just look! We only have to look!"
After the assistant, a tall, well-dressed blonde man, guides them to the cat section, he's starting to think this isn't Satoru's first time here.
And that's when they'd found you, the sorry thing that you are.
Something trickles down his spine at the thought that you'll be seen by others, sold off, used for sex at your owner's discretion.
"Ooooh, I love this one!" Satoru sounds excited. "Can we take a closer look?"
Nodding, the assistant unlatches your cage. You look out, carefully, with big wide eyes, and the assistant waves you out, but you don't move.
He goes in with a leather lead, latching it to your collar, tugging until you finally crawl out, ears tilted back as your tail curls around your body.
Suguru accepts the lead in one hand as the man steps out for a moment.
The assistant reappears pushing a cart of what looks like medical instruments. Tongue depressors, stethoscopes... lubricant.
"All our pets are virgins. You aren't permitted to have sex but you're free to examine them however you like."
Suguru stands there, silent and shocked while Satoru gleefully agrees.
With a tap of his hand to your back, the assistant guides you to lean forwards, chest pressed against the floor, ass up, right in the middle of the shop in front of them.
Your tail sways gently, curling around Satoru's hand when he grasps at it, delighted, running his hand through it and down the length of your body.
"She soooo cute! Look at her pretty tail. And that ass." He whistles, smacking you on the flank.
Suguru watches your whole body flinch at the contact, but you stiffen up, staying in position. He feels a weird, light flip in his belly. This sort of thing was crazy to begin with... but wouldn't it be better to adopt you than leave you here?
He can't even see your face, meet your eyes. Something inside him screams to comfort you; gather your smaller figure up tightly in his arms and squeeze.
"It'll be all right," Suguru finds himself saying, effortlessly smooth as he approaches you. Gently petting the side of your head, watching the ear on that side tilt to accommodate him. Cute.
Well. He supposes he's a cat person, too.
Satoru is still cooing and groping over your admittedly fine body. Suguru can't help but notice how you stiffen under Satoru's wandering touch, but lean into his gentle pets.
He kneels by your head so he can scratch behind your ear, catching the side of your pretty face.
You reward his efforts with a slight, barely noticeable purr - one that goes away when you gasp, face flushing.
That'd be Satoru.
"See, look at her getting wet already! I bet she looks real good taking dick." Satoru says with a giggle as he reaches your pussy, giving your clit a little rub and teasing your entrance.
The employee, straight-faced, gestures towards the instruments beside him.
"As I said, our pets are kept as virgins until they're sold, so you can't have sex with them. But any other form of examination is permitted, including penetrative ones."
Satoru gives him that terrible, impish grin. "C'mon Suguru. We should check she's in good health before we get her."
"Who said we're getting her?" Suguru shoots back, stroking tenderly over your head, down your back, in soothing motions.
There's a sparkle in Satoru's eyes; he knows Suguru isn't willing to leave this shelter without you.
Those terrible, wicked, beautiful eyes glance over the instruments, mouth splitting into a grin as he fixes his gaze on one of them.
Pulling out the speculum, Satoru slinks towards your backside. Tracing lines over your folds, fondling your clit with purpose.
"See! Soooo wet," He coos, positioning the speculum at your entrance.
Suguru pulls away from you to sit next to Satoru, "Be careful. That's not a toy."
"I know, I know!"
Satoru's tone isn't exactly reassuring to you. Still, you can't do anything but hold yourself up, your ass and cunt bare and exposed to them as the cool metal slides in.
Just the feeling of it spreading you open has you whimpering, tail curling around your thigh.
Suguru's hand comes to rest at the base of your tail, near your back, petting down it in a gliding motion.
"There's a good girl, hm," His voice has a heady satisfaction to it, fingers curling around your tail, "Just hold still for us, don't be afraid. We won't hurt you."
You can't help your reaction, keening under his soothing, affectionate tone. A little whine escapes you as the cool metal slides deeper in, and Suguru makes an effort to reach down and pet your head again.
"Yeah!" Satoru chirps. "See, it's not so bad!"
Somehow, this, too, fails to reassure you. However, one of his hands sneaks around to rub over your clit, until you're dripping, clenching around the metal instrument.
"Good kitty," Suguru murmurs, and you find a shameful, low rumble building in your belly.
Satoru notices, though, "She likes it!" - to your horror, he slides the speculum all the way in, and starts spreading it - you - wide open.
"Here, Suguru, don't you want a look?" Satoru says, spreading you one-handed. His other hand rubs just close enough to your clit to keep the arousal lit.
"Hm..." Suguru hums.
But Satoru knows him - knows that this is as close to a yes as he can bring himself to admit to an idea he hadn't suggested himself.
You're so cute, too, he can't help but stroke your pretty little folds, all soft and wet for him. Even as he gapes your cunt wide, it's drooling all over his fingers. You're a natural. So perfect~
"Just look!" Excitement shoots through his chest, "You can see inside... that's her cervix, right?"
He does see it, they both do, that tender, reddened roundness at the end of your pretty little passageway. Walls straining against the speculum, a tight little hole winking at them at the very end.
Like a prize. Like an invitation.
It stirs a terrible, primal heat in Suguru's loins. Seeing so deep inside you. So far. You've almost certainly never even seen this part of yourself... it's only for him. For him and Satoru.
For them to see right now. And later, feel it kissing their dicks, hot and wet as you get filled up with their cum...
"God," Satoru says out loud, "I just want to take her here and now, you know? This cute cunt would look so nice all swollen and dripping with cum, yeah? Right, Su-gu-ru~?"
It's so painfully obvious by now; Satoru had already scouted you in this shelter. He'd picked you out on purpose.
Somehow, he's not even upset. But he can't just say that. Even if he's already itching to have you home, with his name on your collar and your leash in his hands, to play with...
"She looks... healthy." Suguru says, glancing at the employee.
The assistant nods shortly. "As you can see, she has a very strong pelvic floor, and she's in prime breeding condition. Our pets are kept in perfect health." 
A pause. "Is she in fit to go home today?" Suguru asks, ignoring how Satoru nearly cheers at the statement.
"All of our pets are. If they weren't completely healthy, they wouldn't be on display. We take their care very seriously here."
Suguru nods again, and the assistant leaves to retrieve the final adoption papers.
Satoru pulls the speculum out, and Suguru takes a moment to press his body into your thigh, supporting you, petting over you.
"You were so good for us," He cooes, "Don't be scared. There's a good girl," Suguru hums as your tail slides against him, "You're coming home with us, now. Aren't you excited?"
There's a terrible relief that pours through you at the words good girl, at the gentleness with which those large hands guide you to a much more comfortable position, sitting at his feet.
You press yourself against his lower legs, looking up at him shyly, feeling a purr glow through your chest as Suguru smiles down at you.
He's so nice. The other man is lecherous, a bit scary, but it'll be okay as long as this nice man is here, right?
It seems almost finished, as the employee returns - but the white-haired man, the extra pretty one, raises a brow at an option on the paperwork.
"Clit piercings?" Satoru's voice seems extra excited, "Is that an option? Instead of the microchip?"
Piercing? You stiffen at the word. To say you didn't like pain would be a dramatic understatement. Just the thought of some needle near your flesh, a hole that won't heal...
Suguru's hand comes down onto your head, running through your hair, brushing all the thoughts away as you lean into his touch.
It's hard not to crave the warmth, the gentleness. You're only a hybrid, after all, bred for companionship and affection.
The employee pauses for a moment sighing, "It's not an option for all pets. It's a clitoral hood piercing, which can house a micro-sized, state of the art gps tracker. The issue is, it requires some delicate handling. You would have to keep her still, and ideally, keep her clit hard, so it's easier to avoid."
Satoru pulls you up into his arms, like you're no lighter than a switch - you yelp, but he just laughs.
He sits back onto a chair, holding you in his lap and spreading your legs. With one hand, larger than your whole pussy, he spreads your lips open, revealing your cunt.
Your feverish eyes look for Suguru, who approaches from the side, squirming in Satrou's lap anxiously.
Those dark eyes run over you, and for once, the look on the handsome, dark-haired man's face makes you shiver.
"That should be easy. You've been playing around it all this time, haven't you, Satoru?" Suguru's tone is half-accusatory, but Satoru only laughs.
It's easy for you to follow the line of his sight to between your legs, right at the crest of your clit, where Satoru's long, clever fingers stroke heavy circles around it.
"Just hold her like that" The assistant states, pulling out a piercing gun, "This will only take a moment."
"Look at her cute little clit!" Satoru snickers, "Gonna look so pretty with the piercing over it. Plus, if she ever gets lost, we'll find her right away!"
You can feel his body better now, pressed up as you are against him. His chest is solid, muscled, and he's wiry but lean behind you as he holds you easily in his grip, locking his legs inside yours.
Your ears tuck down as you squirm nervously, but Satoru's grip holds you tightly in place. The tip of your tail swishes as it winds against Satrou's leg as it presses into yours.
Suguru sits down next to you, one arm wrapping around your back and up over your chest. He presses his cheek to your poor quivering ear, nuzzling into it.
"Mmmh, don't be scared," He hums lowly, a noise like involuntarily relaxes you, "It'll be over quick."
His voice changes, deepening, hardening, and it's like it's coming from someone else entirely when he says - "Satoru. Keep her on the edge, make her cum when it goes in."
A whine escapes you. Goes in? You don't want this.
The assistant's gloved hands nears you as he gets on his knees, sharp eyes darting at your exposed sex, pulling the strange, unfamiliar tool right up to your most vulnerable place.
You whimper, and Suguru kisses your ear, folding it against your head, "Shhh, shhh. Don't be scared. You feel good now, doesn't it?" He says in a voice like honey.
Satoru's fingers dance over your folds. The strokes get shorter and shorter, the bud of your clit swelling up with pleasure and sensitivity alike. Gut churning with arousal, dripping from you, and a rapidly growing anxiety.
"I don't," You say, but your head is already spinning, "I don't, don't, wanna, I don't wanna, please..."
Leaning forward, Suguru tucks some hair behind his ear, showing you his own gauge piercings.
"I have one too, see?" He hums, "Yours will be much smaller, just a little one. It'll barely hurt."
You stare in confusion, tearing up as your own ears flick nervously. He has one too? But this is between your legs!
"No, no no no, please no," You plead with him, "I don't want it, please-"
"Shhhh." Suguru's hand darts up to your mouth, fingers pressing down on your tongue, "Yes you do. You'll love it so much once you have it, don't worry."
He feels silly for trying to explain. That won't calm you down now.
It makes sense that you can't understand. You're just a sweet little kitty, as much as you look like a human, and this is all just scary and uncomfortable for you.
You're a cat hybrid, a domesticated creature. Pets don't have to think about what's best for themselves; their owners do that for them.
He feels your rough tongue squirming against his fingers, drool pooling around them.
It makes him lick his own lips. His pants are tight. He wouldn't be surprised if Satoru hadn't already -
"Hnngh... yeah, kitty, you'll love it," Satoru pants, grinding up against your ass, making you whimper even more.
Suguru lays another heavy kiss on your ear, "Shh, shh. Hold still, kitty, you can do that, can't you?"
In the midst of all the pleasure, the quickening strokes that have your core clenching in anticipation. The fingers in your mouth, the iron grip on your hips, your legs, holding you in place, the bodies against you; Suguru's soft voice is your anchor in a sea of overstimulation.
But all you can do is warble, fangs teething against his skin, just barely not breaking through. You tremble at the effort, gnawing at his knuckles, wrapping your lips around his fingers.
"You're so sweet," He croons, "So good for me. There's a good kitty."
His fingertip draws down along your tongue, triggering your reflexes to suckle at it.
"There you go, nice and ready," Suguru coos, stroking your head, "Keep her close, Satoru."
With one large hand on your hip, holding you steady, Satoru starts rubbing your clit in sharper, fierce circles, coaxing it to stiffen and peek out further.
The assistant tugs back the delicate skin over your clit, all dripping and swollen. He gives it a quick wipe as he pulls the piercing gun in, making you panic even further.
Suguru pets and kisses as you, squeezing at the tension in your shoulder and your neck, while Satoru rubs just beneath your clit, in hard presses that send pleasure shooting through you.
"Feels good, right?" Satoru pants in your other ear, pinning your hips tightly against him and his throbbing erection, "I'm gonna make you feel even better real soon, kitty."
You sniffle helplessly in his lap, clit throbbing as his fingers work your sensitive nub. It sends you closer and closer to release, a tightening coil of anxiety and pleasure curling in your core.
"Hold still," Suguru murmurs softly, "Be good."
And you try; you try to be good and hold still for Suguru, who pets you and strokes you and says nice things to you. But it's so hard. Every fiber of your being wants to flinch away, and the constant stimulation against your clit is nearly blinding, burning hot arousal searing through you.
You're half-trembling with terror. Heart racing as you stare at the piercing gun sliding into place over your wet, exposed cunt.
"You're being so brave," Suguru whispers, "Such a brave little kitty. Just a little longer."
With a final click, the employee pierces you, sending a sharp jolt of pain through you. You shriek at the sensation, and would have jumped if it weren't for Satoru's iron grasp around you.
But Satoru keeps rubbing, your sensitive bud throbbing with both the effects of his touch, and the pain of the piercing now settled in place just over your clit.
It's all too much, the swell of pleasure building in your core until the pain only adds to the intensity. The dam bursts forth, and you choke on Suguru's fingers as you tense up, breathless, all discomfort melting away in the airy bliss of your climax.
"See," Satoru purrs, arms moving to wrap around your chest and hold you close, "Told you I'd make you feel good."
"That wasn't so bad, was it, kitty?" Suguru lays a kiss against your heated cheek, pulling his saliva-slick fingers out of your mouth so you can pant in the aftermath of your release.
"Look, Suguru~!" Satoru grins, cheeks red, as he taps at your new piercing, "It's so cute!"
Suguru straight up smacks his hand away, muttering some admonishment you don't catch; dimly, you register a wetness against your ass, at the front of his pants.
Panting, sweat-soaked, you slump forward as soon as Satoru's grip on you loosens - but it only tightens right up again, drawing a confused mewl from you as Satoru tugs you up to carry in his arms.
There's more kisses to your head, your ears, your burning hot cheeks. A buzz between your legs so sharp you can't even tell if it hurts or feels good, so you settle for whining whenever you're jostled.
"Be careful with her, Satoru."
"I am, I am - aren't you gonna do the paperwork? I think she needs a little aftercare."
You slump helplessly against Satoru's chest, ears flicking to pick up conversations you're too tired to pay attention to. Tail swaying underneath you, slung over one of Satoru's arms.
"Don't start monopolizing her already. We can do that together once we get home."
"I'm the one who wanted her in the first place!" Satoru whines.
Suguru rolls his eyes, "So you admit you went here without me and picked her out first?"
"But you like her, though," Satoru says, giggling, shifting you carefully in his arms to better support your head.
He looks down at you, curled up in his arms, with a satisfied smile, as the paperwork is signed and they're about to leave.
Aren't you just the cutest little kitty he ever did see?
He just knew Suguru would love you. He's playing it cool, but Satoru knows he can't wait to get you home to dote on you, set up rules and routines. He's probably salivating at the thought.
A pet just for them. Docile and sensitive and fuckable, a loving companion to come home to every day, a toy for them to use together or apart.
Satoru tucks your head against the crook of his neck.
He can't wait to break you in.
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xingumi · 3 months ago
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summer with megumi (megumi fushiguro x reader)
notes: did this super quick, thank you for all the love on my last post, really i am beyond grateful!! requests r open :3
tags: sfw, fluff, gn!reader, established relationship, very very fluffy, just cuteness, nonsorcerer au
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summer with megumi feels like cotton clinging to your skin because he insists on cuddling despite the heat wave. a thin layer of sweat glues your shirt to you, just as megumi has glued himself to your backside. you’d already swapped the duvet out for a light blanket, which has still been kicked halfway off the bed. “i’m dying, megumi,” you huff.
“i’m fixing the AC tomorrow, the fan’s on and the window’s open. it’s out of my hands…��� he mutters into the back of your hair.
“let up for one night?” you plead and push your body forward, but the forearm snaking around your waist holding you to him doesn't budge. you feel his weight shift behind you, and for a second you think he might spare you from his body heat. instead, he reaches over to the comically small fan, switching it to a higher setting before reassuming his position right behind you.
“better?”
you accept your fate and lean back into him, knowing this is a fight you’ll never win. “night, honey.” he whispers. his tolerance for sleeping sweaty is stronger than his tolerance for sleeping without cuddling you.
summer with megumi looks like a living claude monet painting. he walks in front of you and gently holds your hand across the small wooden arch bridge. it whines under the weight of the two of you. you peer over the thin railing to look at the water underneath, reflecting the filtered rays of sun and sparkling like diamonds. “watch your step,” he says as you reach the landing. you’re too busy admiring the water lilies and lush greenery that you don’t immediately notice the picnic he’s set out in a shaded area under a weeping willow. he places a light hand on the small of your back to get your attention. you whip your head back and forth in disbelief between your boyfriend and the date he’d methodically planned. he gives you an amused smile. “go on, i’m right behind you.”
you spend the afternoon snacking on the light picnic spread he prepared in the gaps between quiet conversation. the only sound other than your voices is an occasional birdsong and the constant rustling of breeze-shaken leaves. he lays in your lap with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling with his breathing… has he fallen asleep? after a long, quiet moment, you’re sure he has and you take the chance to press a kiss between his eyebrows. “thank you, megumi…”
summer with megumi sounds like juna by clairo. easy, dulcet melodies that play in blown out speakers at the beach. they sound like waves crashing on the shore, mixed with the clean plunk! of a volleyball being hit around by you and your friends. megumi observes your game as the scorekeeper. his white linen is open with a few buttons undone at the top, letting the sun hit his sharp collarbones and his upper chest. “i can’t see the ball with the sun in my eye,” you both know he’s lying, he would rather just watch you after the first couple rounds. you manage to coax megumi to at least dip his feet into the water.
“what did i get you those swim trunks for?” you ask rhetorically. “humor me, please.” you go back and forth for a few moments and he pretends like he can refuse you when you look so pretty like this. he doesn’t actually mind going in the water, he’d do anything at your request. he just wished it were just the two of you, so he could be as affectionate as he wanted without holding back.
he shoves his balled up fists into his pockets and waddles over awkwardly to where the ocean meets the sand. within a few minutes, you already regret asking him to get in. the air is filled with your sharp cries and laughter as he swipes water at you relentlessly.
summer with megumi tastes like one of everything at the food stalls in the carnival that comes into town every summer. he holds your bag on his shoulder as you practically dart from booth to booth. a long afternoon of waiting on line for rickety rollercoasters had built up quite the appetite for you, and everything just smelled so good. megumi decided you shouldn’t have to choose and passed a handful of cash to you quietly. “get me something small too.”
it makes him happy to make you happy. after making sure you ate to your heart’s content, there was only one last thing he wanted to do before heading home for the night.
the sun had just disappeared below the horizon as your ferris wheel cage approached the highest point of the ride. the lights of the carnival below you were warm and dazzling. you squeeze megumi’s hand as the cage rounds the top of the long arch. “thank you for such a great day, megumi,” you breathed, holding his arm close to your chest and resting your cheek on his shoulder. he looked at you with adoration swelling in his eyes. you meet his eyes with heightened awareness of how close your face is to his. he wastes no time and brazenly presses his lips to yours with a little more force than you were expecting. he tastes the residual sweetness of cotton candy on your mouth and laughs into the kiss. “thank you too,” he cooed lightly.
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brooke121000 · 5 months ago
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go to sleep, love. • s. reid
warnings: n$fw, f/m, p in v, dom!spence if you squint really hard, do a cartwheel and take your glasses off, aftercare! sleepy s3x
summary: wracked with migraines, you wake Spencer up with your crying. Overwhelmed and exhausted, he seeks the easiest possible method to make you go to sleep.
a/n: this did NOT seem as long when i was writing it.
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"ughh-" Spencer groaned, rolling over and rubbing his tired eyes.
you were crying softly, tears muffled into your pillow as your frame shook. Okayy, maybe you were being a tad bit dramatic.
"headaches again?" he murmured.
you nodded, rolling over to face him. enveloped in darkness, your eyes had to adjust to see him, but you were pleased when you did. his face was flushed from sleep, brows knit together and brown curly hair slightly tousled. "yeah." you replied solemnly. "and I can't sleep, at all. I woke you up. didn't I?"
he nodded, unamused.
"oh.. 'm sorry."
"it's okay," his face softened when he sensed how apologetic you were. "it's not your fault. can you sleep?"
your hand on the back of your neck, you shook your head again. he huffed in response.
"at all?"
"no, my head is killing me. You know what i'm talking about."
he sighed. "yeah, I do, but you need to sleep. we gotta go to work tomorrow."
Everything was too much. Your head hurt too much, you were too tired, you were dreading work, and Spencer's tone was much harsher then usual. Like a neglected pot on the stove, all of your emotions boiled over at once and you began to cry once again.
"oh-" Spencer was disheartened at your recurring tears. He scooted over and brought you close to his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. "Please don't cry."
you sniffled. "I'm soo t-tired, i just want to sleep.."
"I know you do," he consoled you. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"...no.."
His next words came in a whisper. "..I could.. you know, try something to help you sleep."
that was enough to stop your crying for a second. sniffling your tears away, you pulled your head up and met his downcast brown eyes. "..what are you suggesting?"
" 'm not suggesting anything. I'm just reminding you, Orgasms release chemicals like Oxytocin and Prolactin, which can lower stress levels and induce drowsiness. They also temporarily reduce the bodies cortisol levels, whi-"
"prove it?" you smiled and cut him off, a little lost for words.
he stalled for a second. "oh... okay."
he quickly got to work, sitting up and grabbing his glasses off the nightstand. you quirked a brow.
"You're putting your glasses on? interesting method of foreplay."
"no, its just- I wanna be able to see you clearly." he cleaned the lenses with the collar of his shirt, slipping them on. "Y'know, when I make you cum?"
you just kind of stared up at him, dumbfounded. it looks like the night brought out a whole different vocabulary in this man. managing an eager nod, you got closer to him.
he slipped under the blankets, and you felt his warm hands on your legs, eliciting a shiver that ran through you like lightning. You were a little disappointed he chose to hide under the covers, but accepted the warmth.
this man wasn't wasting any time. Your already-on-edge nerves felt a string of warm, sloppy kisses up and down your thighs. You slept in only a t shirt and underwear, most nights- including this one, so there was little barrier between you and his lips.
god, those lips.
He considered this quick and anticlimactic, but the little teasing he was performing was driving you crazy. your legs shook in anticipation, and you tried your best not to cry out in joy when you felt his hands hook under your panties and slide them down, down, down, all the way to your ankles- one hand trailing along your leg in this fluid motion.
finally, god, you felt a small, polite kiss pressed to your clit. you practically could have come undone right then and there, if not for a pang of sharp pain hitting your head at the same time, a small 'ah!-" escaping you.
"I know, cm'on. shh." He said from under the blanket, rubbing deep circles into your hips with a free hand.
He licked a lazy stripe up your core, the lightning-strike of pleasure hitting you once again.
"mm- fuck-" you whispered, a quiet plea for only him to hear. He licked another long stripe, patiently anticipating more moans, which he received.
pressing small circles into your most sensitive spots, he eagerly worked you up to the edge. this teasing was driving you crazy, and your breath was quick and harsh.
"spence!" you whined, and heard a groan from him, his grips tightening on your thighs. The tip of his nose pushed against your clit as his tongue dipped and swirled, and you swear your vision went blurry for just a second.
"cm'on-" he murmured.
Your approaching climax was painfully obvious to you, every muscle in your body clenching as he worked magic on you. a hand flew under the covers, intertwining with his hair as a desperate moan poured from your lips. with that, you came, your head flying back to rest against the pillow as your frame shook.
he pulled his head out from under the covers, a smile spreading on his features. "Satisfactory, hmm?"
That was intense. If anything, you were more awake.
"I.. I think i'm less tired."
his brows knit together as he wiped some of the liquid off of his chin, licking his fingers clean for the sole purpose of tasting you.
"ah. I guess you'll just have to cum again."
unable to retort, you simply nodded and watched greedily as he tossed off his shirt, making quick work of his pants and boxers. He captured your waiting lips in a messy kiss, trailing little pecks up and down your cheek. He settled atop you, gazing into your flushed face for just a second.
"I love you." he mused.
"...I love you, too."
he placed more kisses to your neck and collarbone as his free hand aligned himself with your entrance, and you both held your breath. when he pushed into you, feeling your warmth envelop him, you both gasped at the same time.
"fuck-'
'ah-"
he rested his head in the crook of your neck, pushing allll the way inside you. when he was satisfied you had adjusted, he began moving at a punishingly slow pace, butterflies flittering about your stomach once again.
on hand beside you, one on the headboard, he pushed into you again and again, taking up a punishingly fast speed. you simply laid upon the pillow, a moaning shaking mess.
"so, so perfect 'f me, god-" he groaned.
wishing to be somehow deeper inside you, he abandoned the headboard and grabbing your hips, knees planted in the mattress for stability. you put a hand in your hair, a feeble attempt to ground yourself. as if things couldn't get any better, his hand slipped between you two- rubbing fervent circles on your clit, eliciting a string of desperate noises.
after what very well could have been an eternity, you both approached the finish. he gripped your hips desperately hard, his breaths coming shakily.
"oh, my- Spence!"
he buried himself deep into you as you two finished in unison, breath fleeting from your lungs as your head swam with pleasure- and the glaring absence of a migraine.
' "m gonna pull out, okay?"
"mhm- o.. okay."
he slid away and resumed his place beside you. pulling the covers over the both of you and placing a soft kiss to your temple, he sat up momentarily to remove his crooked, now fogged up glasses.
As you came down from your high, the shaking in your legs and the rushing of your pulse calming, you felt your eyelids droop. He pulled you closer to him and left a kiss on your lips, tinged with the soft sting of finality.
"go to sleep, love."
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1K notes · View notes
sexlapis · 6 months ago
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ᝰ.ᐟ i know how much it matters to you.
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── .✦ nanami kento x reader
sfw, drabbles, gender neutral!reader, daddy-esque nanami, soft nanami, petnames
⤷ it’s the little things nanami does for you that makes your heart melt…
a/n: if you have a dad just scroll (joke).
masterlist
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*
BUTTONS
“Thank you for having us, Mrs Nanami.”
You and Nanami make your way to the door, preparing to leave.
Nanami’s mother had invited you both to a Sunday roast, diligently cooking everything for all three of you. You thanked her highly for her efforts, so much so that she had to force you to sit down and eat.
“Oh! It’s no bother, dear!” She smiles at you warmly, walking you and Nanami to the door. “I love to have my favourite people over.”
Nanami takes your coat of its rack, holding it open for you. “Here.”
“Oh!” You put your arms through the sleeves, feeling your face heat up. Nanami adjusts the coat over your shoulders. “Thanks.”
He then proceeds to crouch down a little and button up your coat, bottom to top. When finished, he smooths out the collar of your coat, tidying up the unruly folds and creases.
Your heart jumps, almost embarrassed by his nurturing actions. “Kento…”
“Hm?”
Mrs Nanami coos. “I knew I raised a gentleman.”
-
HAIR
“How does that feel?”
“Hmmm…it feels good…”
You sit in the bath, legs splayed out as Nanami sits on a stool beside the bathtub, massaging the foamy shampoo into your scalp and effectively cleaning your hair.
He chuckles at the blissed out expression on your face.
“What’re you laughing at?” You ask drowsily, eyes half-lidded from his soothing movements.
“Nothing, nothing.”
Nanami’s eyes twinkle as he smiles down at you, irises of umber and gold illuminated by the setting sun curling in from the bathroom window.
“Alright, tilt your head back for me.”
You do so, and he picks up a plastic tub of a now empty food container, scoops up some water from the bath and pours it over your head, washing away all off the foam. He runs his hand over your head, making sure no shampoo gets onto your face or in your eyes.
“There.” He says, admiring your now shining, sweet-scented hair. Your face is now splattered with droplets and your nose is red. Nanami kisses your cheek. “Good as new.”
-
ROADS
On a very rare weekday off, Nanami decides to take you to the Christmas market. Because it is a weekday, specifically Monday, it is quieter and far less busy than usual, near completely desolate. It makes going from stall to stall, sipping on freshly made, rich hot chocolate, admiring carefully handcrafted wooden sculptures, and observing pigmented paints all the more enjoyable.
“Ooo, Nanami!” You exclaim and point across the street. “That’s the new café I was telling you about! Remember, the one with the pastries and stuff?”
“Oh, right, I remember.” Nanami walks to the edge of the sidewalk, you following along and preparing to cross the street. “Let’s go and take a look.”
Nanami sticks his hand out for you to take while looking both ways on the street.
You stare at it, a little dumbfounded to be honest. You are an adult…you think you can manage crossing the street without any guidance.
He then turns his head your way, raising his eyebrows and glancing down at his outstretched, still empty hand.
“Let’s go, then.”
Sighing, smiling half-heartedly, you take his hand and he walks you across the street safely, both of you still holding hands as you make it to the café.
-
TELEPORTATION
Nanami exhales loudly as he sends he last email of the day, falling into the back of his seat and stretching. He’d been working from home all day, it was now dark outside.
What were you up to?
He leaves his office and walks around the office in search of you. First, the kitchen, and then the living room.
The living room is where he finds you, laying on your stomach with a blanket thrown over you, fast asleep.
Have you been here all day?
“Oh, sweetheart…”
Nanami steps over to you quietly, careful not to wake you up. He removes the blanket from you, pausing when you stir and then curls his arms beneath your knees and behind your back to lift you up.
He carries you upstairs and up to your shared bedroom. He lays you on the bed and puts the thick sheets over your body. You hum, and wiggle around in your sleep to get more comfortable.
His chest warms at your cuteness. Nanami kisses your forehead before getting ready for sleep himself.
*
When you wake up, you’re confused about how you ended up in bed and come to the conclusion that you obviously possess the powers of teleportation.
-
DINNERS
It was that time of year, you and Nanami’s annual Christmas dinner where you invited all of your close friends (just your friends, some things that happen during these type of gatherings should stay between friends only, not family).
After hours of laborious cooking and baking, the dining-room table is filled with succulent, freshly cooked foods, ready and yearning to be devoured.
You thank your friends to attending before you all dig in graciously.
While you’re eating, a considerable sized smear of sauce accumulates at the corner of your mouth unknowingly - until Nanami pauses his eating and points it out.
“You have something…” Nanami tells you, pointing to the corner of his own mouth as reference.
“Hm?” Your mouth is full and you missed what he said.
“You have-here.” Nanami licks his thumb and wipes the sauce away from your mouth, before picking up a napkin and rubbing away the rest of the excess. He squeezes the fat of your food-filled cheeks, cooing at how adorable you look.
“Oh. Thanks!”
You smile at each other. Then you notice it’s very quiet and look at the rest of the table.
All of your friends are staring at you and Nanami in what appears to be confusion.
Shoko speaks. “I…I don’t even have anything to say…”
*
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a/n: this was just a little something not a fic ok…nothing serious. just wanted to share my yearning for nanami with everyone else <333
622 notes · View notes
yuechihua · 5 months ago
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send me off to sleep (by your side).
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summary: You've made an unofficial deal with Harumasa: you'll stay by his side, and help him sleep peacefully every night. You'll always make good on your promise, even if he takes on a form you no longer recognize.
notes: 4.9k words, author's notes, spoilers for harumasa's backstory, sleeping side by side, ambiguous relationship/feelings, major character death, fluff at the beginning, hurt/no comfort at the end
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It’s the sunlight that first pulls you from sleep: unfamiliar, buttery light falling across your face through half-opened blinds, coloring an apartment that isn’t yours. 
You blink, struggling to orient yourself in this unknown location: simple, spartan furniture with clean edges and neat lines which is in direct contrast to the wrinkled clothing and scattered papers and books littering every possible surface. There’s medicine bottles scattered across the nightstand next to you, fallen ones rolling on the floor and hiding, half-shadowed, under the bed.
You struggle to sit up in a bed with several different blankets and pillows tossed about like lost sailors in a storm. An arm slung across your torso, casual and possessive fingers gripping your hip, tightens. 
With the arm preventing you from fully rising, you have no option but to slump back into bed, following the curve of the arm and a pale neck to Asaba Harumasa’s face, inky hair falling across his forehead, his eyes still closed.
Your mouth parts in shock at seeing your coworker fast asleep next to you, holding onto you with an unconsciously tight grip, before the pieces of last night click in. 
Sometimes, and only sometimes, when you get off work late and you’ve missed the late night train back to your apartment, you crash at Harumasa’s place. He lives closer than you do to HSO’s head building, and sometimes you’re not in the mood to deal with sleeping on spare couches, shitty corporate coffee, and lukewarm shower stalls.
“You really can’t get enough of me,” he teased the first time you agreed to stay at his place. “Coming over like this so easily… what am I supposed to think?”
In response, you gritted your teeth, sleep deprivation and a library of paperwork waiting for you tomorrow causing your patience to wane, and say, “Not another word, Harumasa, if you want to live to see tomorrow.”
You’d started off simply with crashing on the couch, but you could never catch a single wink of sleep, not when the slightest noise would startle you, and Harumasa was prone to nightmares and shuffling around in the early hours of the morning in his kitchen or bathroom to clear his head.
At first, to help him rest easier, you only settled with chatting with him throughout the night, brewing him floral tea that was supposed to aid with sleep and trying not to fall asleep at his kitchen counter. Later, you’d tried calming music, or holding his hand until he could ease into a more peaceful rest. After that, though, you’d settled on a different compromise, because you were starting to fall asleep at your desk during work: you’d sleep in his bed with him instead, if only because a warm body seemed to ease him more than anything else.
“This is purely for… medical reasons,” you told him crisply. “Nothing else. All right?”
“Of course,” he said, but you couldn’t trust the grin creeping across his face, which you couldn’t describe as anything but “goofy” and “untrustworthy.”
And that leads you to your current predicament. Of course his apartment looks unfamiliar in the daylight; you’ve only ever stumbled in during the late nights, and left before the sun rose in order to get to work early (that, and to avoid any rumors if the two of you arrived at the office at the same time). You should be used to waking up next to Harumasa, but it still startles you every time to see him so close. 
However, the color and depth of the sunlight, and the fact your alarm isn’t the reason you woke up causes unease trickles through your veins.
“Harumasa,” you hiss. “Harumasa!”
He still doesn’t stir, and you shake his shoulder until he blearily blinks his eyes. “Hm… Wha…”
It’s at this point you can shake off his relentless grip, lunging for the night stand to pick up your phone and to see, with growing horror, the bright “11:24 AM” on your screen, along with several texts and a missed call from Yanagi.
“We’re late. Oh my god. We’re late!” you say, finally leaping out of Harumasa’s bed. Where are your clothes? Scattered on the floor alongside Harumasa’s. You’re in nothing but a tank top and athletic shorts, and you pick up your white dress shirt, now unbearably creased. You’ll need to get it ironed later, but you have more pressing issues to worry about as you slip one arm through the sleeve.
“Oh. Is that all?” Harumasa says lazily.
“Is that all? Come on! We’re three hours late for work!”
“It’s fine. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Come on, get up!” you say, swiftly buttoning your shirt closed, reaching over to his supine body and giving his shoulder a light smack. “Yanagi’s going to give you overtime if you keep sleeping.”
At your words, Harumasa finally sits bolt upright in bed, eyes widening. “My pants are over there! Throw them over, quick!”
You reach down and toss him a pair of wrinkled black slacks. The two of you rush to get ready in the next ten minutes, taking turns running in and out of the bathroom and throwing together some bland, packaged food for breakfast from Harumasa’s kitchen cabinets. 
You pull on your coat, teal and crisp and a mandatory part of the official HSO uniform, but it’s wrinklier than you remember. But there’s no time to worry about your outfit, so you pin your ID to the front and slip on your loafers, tapping the front of each toe lightly on the floor.
Harumasa pauses, leaning against the doorway of his bedroom as he watches you. There’s an expression that’s strangely tender on his face.
“What?” you ask. “Something on my face?”
“No. I just think you look nice,” he says. You wait for a joke to follow his words, but nothing does.
“Thanks. You look nice, too,” you add. Might as well pay him his compliment back. “Now, let’s go!”
There’s no time to deal with the caprices of public transport, the afternoon rush or the inefficient wait times, so you take off at a brisk jog down the streets instead, Harumasa following at his own lackadaisical pace.
“I can’t believe I slept past my alarms,” you lament. 
“That might have been my fault,” Harumasa says. “I think I pressed snooze on all of them.”
“What? Why?”
“I wanted to sleep in,” he says.
You purse your lips. “Well, I didn’t!”
“I also thought you looked cute so I didn’t want you to wake up,” he says conversationally. “Sorry.”
The image of Harumasa, propped up on one elbow, watching you sleep with a smile playing on his mouth, rises to mind, unbidden. You push it away; there’s no point in letting yourself wander down that path. 
Harumasa is a smooth-talker, carefree and light, like a dandelion puff that’ll blow whichever way the wind will carry it. He’s your coworker, someone who you trust and tease in equal measure. You care about him, more than is safe, but despite the fact you sleep in his bed, there’s so much you don’t know about him.
Where do his nightmares come from? What condition requires him to take so many pills? Why does he let you in his arms, but not his heart? He never explains, so you never ask.
If he had tried to touch you any of those nights together, you wouldn’t have pushed him away. But there’s a line he never crosses with you. He holds you tightly, desperately, as if he doesn’t want you to leave, but he never reaches out first.
His desires are contradictory and confusing, and so hard for you to piece together. Harumasa is like a skittish animal, keeping inches away from your outstretched hands, yet unable to keep his hungry gaze away from you.
“Oh, please. You’ve seen me sleep a hundred times before,” you say, tone teasing. “I don’t know why today is so different. You’ll see it a hundred times in the future, too.”
You no longer hear Harumasa’s footsteps behind you, so you turn. He’s stopped in the middle of the sea of people rushing by, like water around rocks. You’re suddenly displaced from the stream of crowds around you, all with their lives, their goals, their dreams, so unknown and alien to you.
What does Harumasa want to say to you? There’s something trapped in his gaze, his throat, the way he worries at the edge of his lip with his teeth, as if biting back some ugly truth. The same things he’s always hidden from you, from Section Six, from the rest of the world.
“I haven’t had any nightmares lately. I haven’t properly thanked you for that,” Harumasa says. He’s only a few feet away, but it feels like there’s miles between the two of you, oceans and canyons that you can’t traverse to reach wherever he’s speaking from.
“You can thank me after work,” you say. “Take me out to eat, if you feel bad.”
“Sure. We’ll go somewhere nice. You can choose.”
“Maybe we can bring the others along,” you add. “Soukaku will feel left out if we get something tasty without her, and Miyabi and Yanagi have been working hard these past few weeks.”
“Now you’re adding people without asking me? Do you want me to go bankrupt?”
He’s the same as he always is, with his carefree attitude and casual jokes, the way he keeps the mood light. Why, then, do you still feel so distant from Harumasa? Like he’ll be swept off into this crowd of people and you’ll never see him again?
“Harumasa.” You stride forward and circle his wrist with your hand, an anchor to keep him moored to your side. “I’ll be here for you, you know that, right? I’ll stay with you every night for as long as you need. I want to support you. You can tell me anything.”
Harumasa smiles ruthfully. “You’re too good to me. What if I take advantage of that?”
“I’ll let you,” you say quietly.
His breath hitches, his eyes dropping, as if searching for the right answer on the pavement beneath him. “The only thing I’ll ask you to do is to keep staying with me every night. Just help me sleep.”
“All right.”
He wiggles his hand free from your grasp until he can ghost his fingers along your palm, slowly intertwining your fingers together. His touch is as tentative as a butterfly’s kiss. You’re afraid to move, as if he’ll vanish if you do. “And I trust you. I know there’s a lot you’re curious about, but I need some time. There’s some unfinished business I need to deal with, first.”
“Take your time,” you say. “I’ll be waiting.”
Harumasa squeezes your hand briefly before letting go. “Also, this doesn’t bother me, but you do realize we’re still late to work, right?”
Shit. You glance at your phone, and the bright number makes you want to faint. “Let’s hurry! We’ll talk after work, all right? You still owe me that meal!”
The two of you race down the street (well, you run and Harumasa languidly follows a step behind), and you swear you can hear Harumasa’s quiet laughter all the way to the office. 
You don’t stop your frantic pace even as you check into the Hollow Special Operatives building, scanning your ID and bursting into the elevator, riding it all the way to your floor, where the doors pop open to a scowling Yanagi. 
“I’m so sorry!” you cry, explanations and apologies bubbling from your mouth. “Yanagi, this was extremely unprofessional of me, and I promise I’ll never be this late without prior notice again. If—”
“It’s okay,” Yanagi says, cutting in with a sigh. “You’re not normally this late. I was worried something happened to you.” 
“Tsukishiro, you’re so kind to us,” Harumasa says, grinning. 
“Asaba! This is your sixth time arriving late–” Abruptly, Yanagi stops her scolding, looking at Harumasa with a confused expression, before her eyes drift back to you. You can see something click in her thoughts as a mixture of recognition, shock, and weary acceptance play across her face in rapid measure. “I hope the two of you remember HR protocol for office relationships,” she says finally. “I have no feelings on your personal relationship outside of work, as long as… you don’t let it affect your performance.”
“What?” you say. Yanagi’s lips are pursed, and Harumasa’s expression is smugly pleased, like a cat with a particularly juicy piece of fish. Your eyes naturally drift from Harumasa, whose jacket isn’t as baggy and oversized as usual and instead looks strangely familiar, all the way to your own body, where you see that it’s not your jacket, but Harumasa’s jacket, hanging off your shoulders.
Shit. In the morning rush, you’d probably grabbed the wrong coat off the floor. That’s most likely why Harumasa had looked at you so oddly, too. 
Harumasa must notice the dawning horror on your face, because he adds, in a voice that makes you want to kick him, “Don’t worry, Tsukishiro. We’d never act so unprofessional in the workplace.”
“Yanagi, this isn’t… We’re not… There’s a perfectly good explanation for…” Any excuses that come to mind fall flat. What could you say without making the situation worse? Throw Harumasa under the bus and explain that you sleep with him to help with his nightmares? Or that you stay at his apartment when you’re too exhausted to return to your own? Both of those sounded like a professional nightmare in their own right.
“Yes?” Yanagi says patiently.
“I’ll… be careful,” you finally say.
“All right. If you need anything, let me know,” she says, patting you on the shoulder.
“Tsukishiro, this is obvious favoritism!” Harumasa protests lightly.
“Favoritism? I’ve been fighting to get all of your sick leave requests approved, even though you’ve exceeded your limit for the month.”
“Point taken.”
“Now, since the two of you are here… If you’re ready to head out, I need one of you to head out to Hollow Zero,” Yanagi says. “Section Four has requested back-up, and since Soukaku and Chief Miyabi are checking out a different disturbance, I haven’t been able to go since I’m handling business here.”
“When did they request help?” you say. “If we’ve been keeping them waiting…”
“Don’t worry,” Yanagi says. “The request only came a few minutes ago. I was considering leaving to handle it, but then the two of you showed up.”
“Of course. Then I’ll–”
“I’ll go,” Harumasa announces, interrupting you with a cheeky wave of his hand. “I owe it to my, ah, coworker, don’t I, for causing so much trouble?”
“You want to volunteer for additional work?” you ask dubiously.
“Well, consider this a repayment for everything you’ve done for me. Would that suffice? Oh, and not to worry–I’ll still treat you to a good meal after, even if I have to drag my poor, bruised body to the restaurant.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” you say. 
“I’m sure.” Harumasa raises his hand, as if he means to touch you in some way, but it simply hovers in the air before he gives you a quick pat on the shoulder, the same as Yanagi had done. It’s both relieving and disappointing. “So start thinking about what you want to eat. Oh, Tsukishiro, you and the rest are invited, too.”
“You’re treating us to dinner? Are you going to pull something ridiculous later?” Yanagi asks, with the same disbelief you had.
“Not at all! Think of it as some good old gratitude. I owe everyone here a lot. So look forward to it.” He spins on his heel to press the elevator button again. “All right, time to head out!”
There’s so much you want to say to Harumasa, and so much you can’t. But he has promised you the truth, eventually, so you won’t push him further. You can only take this quiet snapshot of him in your head, his loose posture, his rumpled clothes, the way your jacket is tied low on his waist.
It comforts you that he’ll have this piece of you with him, like a lucky charm. If he won’t ask for his jacket back, then you won’t ask for yours.
“Come back soon,” you say. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I’ll be back.” Harumasa smiles briefly before the doors slide shut and separate the two of you.
The majority of the day passes in a blur of menial office tasks, paperwork and reports, with cheap, filtered coffee carrying you through it all. You drink yours bitterly black, and think of Harumasa. A few hours later, Soukaku and Miyabi return, covered in light scrapes and bruises that will fade within the day. 
“Welcome back,” you tell them, standing to greet them near the entrance.
Soukaku bounds up to wrap her arms around your waist in a tight hug, and you ruffle her hair. “Where’s Harumasa?” she asks.
“Out providing support to Section Four,” you say. “He’ll probably be back before the end of the day. How was your mission?”
“Fine. There wasn’t much trouble,” Miyabi says. 
“By the way, Harumasa is going to treat us to dinner tonight,” you add, fiddling with the ends of Harumasa’s jacket sleeve.
“Yay!” Soukaku says. “Let’s get meat!”
“Grilled meat,” you supply. “The best kind.”
“Premium cut…” Miyabi muses.
“Don’t ask too much from him,” Yanagi adds, looking up briefly from her desk to address the three of you. 
“You don’t want premium grade meat, Yanagi?”
“Well…”
“Take the time to think about it,” you tease.
The rest of the time pours away in a sluggish trickle. As the sky reddens to a color like pooling blood, Harumasa still hasn’t returned. It’s taking more time than you expected. All you can do is tug at the ends of Harumasa’s jacket sleeves in nervous habit, watching the teal fabric fall over your hands. It hasn’t lost his scent yet. 
Perhaps the others have sensed your unease, because the mood is more sombre than usual. Even Soukaku is quietly fidgeting at her desk, the entire office enveloped in a fragile, waiting silence.
Harumasa likes to act lackadaisical, but you know from firsthand experience that he’s competent. Besides, he’s promised to come back and tell you the things he’s been hiding. And he still has to take you and the rest of Section Six to dinner. 
This is a simple back-up mission, you remind yourself. Yanagi hadn’t mentioned any complications. It would be fine. Harumasa would come back late with some excuse, you would tease him, the entire office would have dinner together, and then you would go to his apartment and curl up in his bed, and maybe hold him a little tighter than usual tonight. It would almost be as if you and Harumasa are the lovers Yanagi thought you two were. 
The elevator dings, and you hear rapid footsteps on the carpet. Your head whips up as someone stumbles into the office—it’s not Harumasa, and your heart tightens with disappointment. Instead, it’s a person with tattered clothing whose Section Four ID is, oddly enough, still pinned to their chest, caked in a layer of blood, dust, and sweat, familiar bow in their hands, dry mouth gasping as if they’ve run all the way over without stopping, “There’s been an accident. The operative you’ve sent… Asaba Harumasa… turned into an Ethereal.”
Blood roars in your ears, a sudden, swelling ocean overtaking you. Harumasa? An Ethereal? It’s not a very funny joke, but the Section Four officer is blinking away tears. You’re standing–when did you get up?–and Yanagi and Miyabi are urgently pelting the person with questions. 
All you can see is the dulled blades of Harumasa’s weapon, glinting coolly in the person’s hands. There’s a coating of grime over the metal, and the handles have been dirtied. It needs to be cleaned and returned to Harumasa. You want nothing more than to yank it out of the person’s hands. 
The operative sees your expression, and holds out the weapon. Their voice is still hoarse and shaking as they say, “It’s all we could retrieve. I’m sorry.”
You grip the bow in your hands. The weight of it is comfortable if heavier than you expected, like holding a piece of Harumasa himself. Pieces of the conversation drift to you, but you can’t quite make out what they mean. Something about the Hollow fluctuating and their carrot being useless, getting lost and overwhelmed by Ethereals, and Harumasa using himself as a distraction. Doubling back when someone was separated from the team. Staying behind, finally, to ensure everyone could get out safely, until his own body betrayed him and he changed into an Ethereal, so rapidly no one could do anything.
There are other words, too, but they don’t make sense. You don’t want to hear them from a stranger, and not from Harumasa himself. Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome. High likelihood of mutation in a Hollow. A fatally terminal illness.
It’s wrong, you want to say. Harumasa has promised to take you to dinner. He likes to mess around, but he’s a good person. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t leave you behind like this.
Something cool touches your numb body. It’s Miyabi, and she’s put a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you to look at her. It’s a clear, gentle cold, somehow comforting, as she watches you intently. 
“We have to go,” she says quietly. “The Ethereal has been designated a high-level threat. We’ve been assigned to dispatch it.”
“It’s Harumasa,” you tell her, your voice clumsy and whiny, even to your own ears.
Her expression doesn’t change. “I know. But these people need us. And he needs you.”
You want to cry. You want to laugh. You want to run away. But all you can think about is Harumasa. His golden eyes luminous in the late night as he whispers to you. The way blue dawn light cradles his face, peaceful and unguarded in sleep. His smile, always so teasing, always so gentle, always shining down on you like the sun.
There’s so much you still don’t understand. About him. About your relationship. Why he keeps a certain distance from you, but never draws away when you approach him. Why he opens his arms to you every night, like it’s the only place you belong. Why you count the beat of his heart and the rhythm of his breaths when he slumbers, reassuring yourself that he’s still there. Now, the only one who can answer these questions is gone.
And you know. Miyabi is right. You must go. There is no other choice but this.
On the way there, you move like you’re in a dream. Your preparations are swift, and you’re out the door and driving to Hollow Zero before you can make sense of it. During the car ride, you clutch Harumasa’s bow like a lifeline. Soukaku sniffles, and Yanagi puts an arm around her. Miyabi is only looking at the Hollow stretching out in front of you. Once you step out of the car, with one gesture from her, the four of you venture in. 
It’s a painfully quiet trek amidst crumbling debris and corrupted growth. The four of you move swiftly, in sync as always, but there’s something missing: Harumasa, his absence like a black hole in your formation. There’s no jokes, no quips, no teasing. Only grim silence as you approach the location in your carrot.
You hear Harumasa before you see him: the scrape of blade against the resisting ground, an endless, dull roaring, like the distant echo of the ocean. He lurks beautifully in the distance, a core like the night sky nestled against twisted neon yellow and white flesh. He circles around in a tight, restless loop, as if, even in this form, he can’t be bothered to venture far. 
For a second, the four of you can only watch him quietly, hidden by a pile of stacked, blocky concrete that shields you from his notice. A flicker of teal catches your eye, buried in the rubble near Harumasa. It’s your jacket. You look away.
“I’ll draw his attention,” Yanagi begins. “Then, the rest of you can–”
“Let me do it,” you interrupt her. 
“You want to be the distraction?”
“No,” you say levelly. “There’s only one thing I can do for him right now.”
Yanagi’s eyes widen as your meaning sinks in. “It’s dangerous,” she protests. “It’s safer if we approach this as a team.”
“Will you be able to deal the blow?” Miyabi says. She’s watching you intently again, and there’s something sad in her gaze. 
You’ve watched Harumasa assemble his weapon countless times, but you don’t have his practiced ease as you unsheathe his blades and clumsily combine them into a bow. It’s not your preferred weapon choice, even if you’ve been trained in it, but it’s his, so you can use nothing else.
“I have to,” you say.
Miyabi nods. “Then I leave you with this decision.”
“If you’re sure,” Yanagi says softly. “It’ll be difficult, but I believe in you.”
“Harumasa sounds sad. You’ve gotta help him,” Soukaku says. It’s one of the first things she’s said during the mission, and you can see the drying tears on her face. It makes your heart ache.
“I’ll be there for him,” you tell her. “Don’t worry.”
With one final breath and a last glance at Section Six, you step out into the open, exposing yourself to Harumasa. An unknown bow can be finicky, but Harumasa’s weapon responds easily to your demands, bending with a grace and swiftness as you notch an arrow. You remember his movements, the assured, flowing gestures of his fighting style. You spread your feet apart, as he would have done, searching for the perfect location to strike.
You need to hit him before he notices you, but Harumasa turns. You tense, bracing to enter combat, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he stills, as if he’s finally found what he’s been looking for. 
There’s no way he knows it’s you. There’s not even a face anymore for him to watch you, not a single part of him that’s familiar. The curve of his back, the dip of his shoulders, the hollow of his throat: it’s all gone. So why isn’t he moving?
Your fingers shake as you draw the string back, careful not to take your eyes off of him.
It’s the most ridiculous moment for it, but you still remember the first time you started sleeping by his side. You’d both been sitting on the edge of his bed, draped in velvet shadows, unsure of the time. Neither of you were able to sleep. You could have, but you didn’t feel comfortable snoring away on Harumasa’s couch while he stared aimlessly at his own ceiling.
“How about this? I’ll sleep next to you,” you finally said. 
He lets out a small, surprised laugh. “Why?”
“Because I want you to sleep well,” you said. “I’ll stay by your side until you can.”
And it’s just like you once promised Harumasa. You would stay by his side until the end so he wouldn’t be alone, even if this time you can’t follow him where he’s going. After all, you want him to sleep peacefully. 
Harumasa—No. It’s no longer him. The Ethereal is still watching you, as if it’s waiting for your decision. It raises its arms, slowly, but no blow comes. They only hover in the air, outstretched like a supplication.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice ragged with tears. You fire. Your arrow strikes swift and true.
What happens next is a blur. The Ethereal crumples in one blow, melting away like a sigh. Yanagi, Soukaku, and Miyabi appear, hugging you and whispering reassurances that fall on you like warm rain. You’re led out of the Hollow, still gripping Harumasa’s bow like you’ll fall to pieces without it.
It’s confusing to be back at the office. Yanagi disappears to file reports, bringing Soukaku with her. Tomorrow, you’ll need to clear Harumasa’s desk, and prepare for his funeral. But it all feels so distant, so unreal. As if he could still walk through the door, and protest at your hasty decisions.
Miyabi hands you a tattered pile of dirty rags—Harumasa’s clothing, or what’s left of it. There’s his (your) jacket, barely clinging together, his headband, grimy at the ends, and his choker, the metal dented.
“It’s what I could find for now,” she says quietly. “I’ll give you the rest tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” you say in a hoarse voice, not trusting yourself to say any more. 
After that, Yanagi calls you a taxi, and when the driver asks where you’re headed, you give them Harumasa’s address.
His apartment is just as you left it. Still warm with the lingering scent of sunshine, the blinds open and the city lights glittering like stars. Empty dishes and glasses in the sink. A full trash can, which needs to be taken out. His blankets askew, unmade, left with nothing but a cool indent of where he once slept by your side.
You curl up on his bed, snuggling into his blankets, still wearing his jacket, too exhausted to do much more than hug his tattered clothes to you. You can still smell his scent, refreshing and slightly bitter, sunk into the pillows.
There will be no body to bury. There will be no answers. There will be no one to return to anymore.
You close your eyes. You dream. And if you hug his clothes tightly enough, you can pretend that it’s Harumasa by your side, arm around your waist. In the morning, you’ll see the light spill across his face, and smile.
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Mutt
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Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x reader
Warnings/Genre: a horribly horribly long slow burn, excuse any typos, fluff, slight angst, offstandish reader, slightly overbearing new friend (not canon character), potentially cute dogs, jealous friend, said friend has a crush on Joel, Joel gets hurt on patrol, mentions of blood, reader gets a cut on her hand, slightly romantically tense situations, let me know if I missed anything!!
Work Count: 8k
A/n: I've been telling this story to myself as I fall asleep at night and have decided to write down what I've daydreamed up so far!! Wish me luck! I hope this is good. . . And it's so long. . I'm so sorry
--- --- ---
Maria and Tommy found you on a patrol near the river.
It was a cold December this year, and your ratty, thin clothes were making it hard to stay warm. The only way to stay warm was to keep moving. Maria wasn't going to take you in, deadset on letting you pass around the town once the K9 cleared you.
Tommy wasn't so set. He figured that Jackson had the room. You were only one more person. Jackson would always use more people for patrols and work around Jackson.
The couple bickered back and forth for a few moments and once decided, Tommy shucked his jacket around your shoulders and gave you a ride back to Jackson. Once there, they settled you in a house across from them, not directly across more diagonally. You showered and they brought you to the mess hall.
You sat with Tommy and Maria, as well as another man and his kid, and another lady who seemed to have implanted herself in the family. She talked a lot. But you could care less, scarfing down your very delicious food was more important. You could feel the eyes of the man and child on you the entire time you ate.
That night, you slept warmly with a full stomach.
You woke early the next morning, so early the sun was barely up. As you finished dressing in some clothes that Maria had found you, knocking was heard.
You followed the noise to your front door and opened it to see Maria. She mentioned that she had a job for you. You nodded and pulled on a warm, heavy jacket. She led you to the stables and past the horse stalls to a back corner.
There were a few kennels back here, ten at the most. There were dogs in every one.
Maria explained that these were dogs that had wandered into Jackson, or that had been picked up on patrols. They'd been dropped here as no one had the time to train feral dogs, and since you were new you'd been granted that job.
You thanked Maria, and she disappeared into the barn.
You took notes that the dogs had the bare minimum. Like just enough food to get by, a blanket per dog, and a bowl or two per kennel. You hmmpfed and noted that the dogs also had no real way to get outside if they needed, much less a designated area to go outside.
You got to work almost immediately. Introducing yourself to the dogs, filling food bowls from a bag stuffed into a corner and filling water bowls from a spicket on the wall at the end of the little hallway/room. You found a notebook and pencil, deciding to use it for information on the dogs, like scars and particular body characteristics. You found out, just by looking and feeling, that one of the dogs was pregnant. You weren't sure with how many.
You worked the rest of the day cleaning their kennels and fixing it up with your limited tools of whatever you found in the area.
Around the start of afternoon, there was a knock on the doorway of the room, and a cheery call of your name.
It was Debby, the lady who talks a lot from dinner yesterday night, "Hey! How you doing today? I didn't get to hear you talk a lot today? Oh.. You got put on mutt duty.." She trailed off at the end, giving disgruntled looks around the small room.
You nodded, standing up and wiping off your hands, "I'm settling in, slowly. Can I help you with something?"
"Oh well," She paused as she twirled a finger. "I was just on the way to lunch and heard you worked in here now. Just decided to stop by and see if you're hungry."
You thought for a few moments, noting your empty stomach as you'd accidentally skipped breakfast, "Sure. I'm at a good stopping point for right now."
"Great!" Debby grabbed your arm and skipped her way through the barn and into the open. "Have you met Joel yet?"
"Joel?" You asked, not picturing a face to the name.
"Joel Miller!" Debby was exasperated in her answer. "Tommy's brother! He sat with us at dinner last night with his kid."
His face was blurry in memory, but you kind of made the connection. You nodded at Debby's words.
"Joel is so great!" Debby started loudly. "He's so handsome and strong! And he's so kind and willing to do almost anything for anybody!! If only I could get him alone, even just for a few moments, but that kid of his is just glued to his side."
Her cheeriness died back as she mentioned Joel's kid, almost as if Debby has a resentment toward the 14-year-old. You couldn't make sense of her rambling. You'd spent so much time outside that you really didn't understand the way Debby felt towards Joel.
When you both entered the mess hall, you dished up. Debby's gasp pulled you from your focus and she gripped your jacket sleeve. You looked at her, brows scrunched in an irritated way.
"Joel's here!" She whispered at you, shaking you just a bit.
You turned fully to look in the direction your companion was looking in. You spotted Tommy and Maria first, and the presumed Joel and his kid sat across from them. They were engaging in something casual and eating slowly. And as if feeling eyes on them, Tommy turned first and the others followed in suit. Tommy waved you two over.
Debby practically skipped over, and you were much slower. Debby plopped right beside Maria, trying to get as close to Joel as he could. You sat beside Debby, careful to not evade any space.
"Hi Joel!" Debby greeted, too cheery for something casually quiet.
Joel only nodded in response, mouth full of food. His kid only glanced at Debby before back at her food.
"You settling in okay?" Maria asked, leaning forward around Debby.
You nodded, trying your best to not scarf down your food and match the pace of the others.
"You think this job is okay for you? Do you need anything?" Tommy asked, putting his spoon down to show full attentiveness.
"Umm," You swallowed your food. "Maybe a library and some blankets? And maybe a way to let the dogs go outside by themselves?" You were unsure if you were to grab anything extra for the dogs, or if you could modify that part of the barn.
Tommy nodded, "I can show you the library after this, and where we keep our extra clothes and blankets."
"Thank you," You almost started eating before Maria asked you a question.
"You fixing up that outside coral?" Maria asked.
You nodded, "Planning on it, so they don't make such a mess of inside."
"By yourself?" Maria asked again.
"Planning on it," You sense Maria's hesitation. "I was wondering where to get some wood and maybe some chicken wire, and maybe something to smooth the wood out so no one gets any splinters."
"Chicken wire?" Tommy asked, confused.
"So the dogs don't slip out under the fence," You pointed out.
Tommy nodded, "Well, uh my brother here is pretty well-versed in woodwork."
You looked at Joel, who sat across from Tommy. He looked back.
"Joel Miller," Joel reached a hand across the table to shake yours.
"Y/n," You told him, accepting his hand.
"Ellie," Joel's kid offered her hand once you pulled away from Joel. "You'll get the hang of eating slow eventually. I was like that too."
You nodded, settling back down into your chair.
Lunch went a lot slower than you were used to. But later than sooner, you were off to the library. Tommy led the way, informing you that you were welcome to take books home if needed, but to bring them back when you were done.
You nodded along to the information. And when Tommy left to go help Maria with something, you started wandering. You were looking for books on dog behavior and diet, hoping to find good ways to train the dogs under your care.
In just under two hours you found what you needed. You big goodbye to the library caretaker and was on your way back to the barn. You checked up on the dogs, cleaned up any mess they made, and got to reading. You took note of anything you deemed useful as you read.
A knock disrupted you. It was Tommy again. He brought an arm-full of old blankets. You met him at the doorway, thanking him. The man nodded and said if you needed anything that he'll be around. You thanked him again and decided that you'd wait to give the dogs their blankets until they were ready and trained to go outside.
After reading a few more pages, you fixed up some more things around the kennels and cleaned up the place a little more.
The sun went down and the town lights came on. Work slowed the darker it got in the barn. Soon enough, you bid the dogs goodnight and made your way home. You weren't too hungry so you skipped dinner and read until you couldn't anymore.
The next morning, you woke again before the sun. You peeked outside and saw that maybe only one or two people were awake. You got ready slowly, giving the town time to wake up before you officially started your day.
You shucked a big, thick jacket on and headed to the barn. The dogs greeted you with barks and wagging tails. For each kennel you cleaned, you gave the resident dog some love. You fed them and refreshed their water. Your stomach growled and you headed out to get your own breakfast.
The Miller Family was already there and settled, as was Debby. Debby seemed to be talking a very tired-looking Joel Miller's ears off about something. You see Ellie excuse herself from the table and make her way to join you in the line. She grabs a plate and comes up beside you.
“You smell like the barn,” Are the first words Ellie speaks to you. “Do you work with the horses?”
“No,” You answer as your grab some breakfast. “I work in the kennels.”
“Kennels?” Ellie presses.
“There’s some kennels in a room off to the side in the barn,” You tell her, grabbing a drink and utensils. “I can show you sometime if you like.”
“That’d be.. cool,” Ellie gives a chill smile, her eyes sparkling in excitement.
You lead the way to the table and you two take up your usual spots. You start eating instantly, extra hungry from the skipped dinner last night.
“You smell like the barn,” Debby notes with her nose wrinkled in distaste.
You swallow your bite of breakfast, “Woke up early.”
“And the barn was the first place you went?” She asks.
“Well yeah..,” You look at her finally, feeling a little subconscious. “Where else would I go?”
Debby opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again. She decided to not add any more comments about you and continue on with her breakfast.
A small conversation picks up between Tommy and Joel. Something about patrols and work that needs to be done around the town. It’s almost like they plan their day around each other, as if they want to see each other as often as possible. Maria joins in too, noting sightings from patrols on the west side. Joel nods, muttering about going out sometime today or tomorrow.
“What about the fences for the dogs?” Ellie interrupts.
“Still on my list,” Joel answers Ellie and then looks at you. “When would you want to start on that?”
“Whenever works best for you,” You tell him.
“We can start after this, if you’d like,” Joel suggests.
You nod, “That works.”
Joel nods and you go back to your breakfast.
You’re starting to get used to the slow breakfasts, but not really. You’re antsy to get back to the dogs. But breakfast does go by. Joel goes to get some tools and wood, and you go to meet him at the barn. The dogs were antsy for your return, barking and jumping on their chainlink cages as you walk by. You give them love and refill their waters if needed.
Joel shows up not long after, with Ellie in tow. You help carry wood and tools back to where you want to start. You two adults get to work, and you tell Ellie to make herself comfortable inside the barn and that the dogs are friendly. You and Joel tear up the old wooden fence and replace with new, better wood. You both hammer down and sand, making sure the fence is stable and has a lack of splinters. You slowly make your way around this corner of the barn, completing the process of setting up the fence by midday. Putting up the chicken wire only takes another hour or two.
When finished, you ask Joel for another favor, if he doesn’t mind. What? To help make the doggy doors a little better, and make it so the dogs goes in and out as they please.
Joel agrees, leaves to grab some more supplies, and when he comes back he shows you how to install his idea so you can do some doors as well.
Joel takes the previous doggy door off, cuts around the doorway to make the shape a little better, installs a new frame around the door, attaches this rubber to the sides and bottom, and attaches this swinging rubbery door to the doorway. Joel explains that the rubber will act as a seal to keep the cold air out of the kennel, and the new door should flap back and forth a few times before catching on the rubber and sealing the inside from the outside again.
You nod as you take in his instructions and explanation. It’s only slightly confusing but hopefully with some hands on the instructions will become more clear.
Joel moves to the next door down, and you settle in at the one beside that. Joel shows you how to install at a slow pace, making sure to go step by step with you. He does this at the next doggy door, and a few more before weaning you off instruction and trusting you to do it by yourself. It’s not long before you make it to the other side, installing the other five doggy doors. You do the last two yourself, Joel keeping a watchful eye over your shoulder.
Once you’re done, it’s evening. The sun is just barely starting to set. A few of the dogs have begun to venture outside to check out the new fence, their new doors, and Joel. After a few hi’s to the dogs, you take Joel inside through a door for people located in the premises of the new fences. You help him collect and put away his tools, but you seem to get a little too confident with these newfound tools and the small saw slips in your grasp and cuts into your first two fingers. You yelp and hiss, instantly grabbing your two injured fingers in the palm of your injured hand.
“What? What?,” Joel’s instantly concerned, gently grabbing your shoulder to turn you. “What happened?”
He zeros in on your fingers grasped in your hands and gently cups your hands in his.
“It-It’s fine, Joel. Really,” You tell him. “I guess I just wasn’t holding the saw tight enough and it slipped.”
“Let me see it,” Joel demands softly.
“Joel, really,” You pull your hands away slightly. “It’s okay. I can fix it up myself.”
“Just let me see it,” Joel demands again.
You look at his face full of concern and give in, resting your hands in his grasp. You release your fingers from your grasp and let them fall victim to Joel’s eyes. The man gently straightens your fingers with his and look at the cuts on your fingerpads, titling your hand from side to side.
Joel hums, “Come back to my place. I got the stuff to fix you up.”
“I can just do it at my house,” You try to reason with the taller man, who make your hands look like half the size they really are in his.
“Do you have rubbing alcohol?” He asks and you shake your head. “Bandages?” Another head shake from you. “Well, I’ve got those at my place, so just come back with Ellie and I and I’ll get you fixed up before dinner.”
“But-“ You start.
“It’s better than you running around with bleeding fingers trying to get the supplies yourself,” Joel tells you, giving you an intense gaze.
You give in, “Fine.”
Joel nods, shucking the tool bag onto his shoulders and calling Ellie in from outside, as she joined you and stayed out to play with the dogs. He finally let you have your hands back when he led the way out the barn and to his house.
“What’s he so tense about?” Ellie asks, walking beside you.
“I cut myself on the saw,” You show her.
“Oh, well it’s not that bad,” Ellie waved Joel’s tenseness off. “He shouldn’t be that worried. Joel’s had so much worse!”
You don’t have too much time to look around Joel and Ellie’s house before Joel is ushering you off to the kitchen and asking Ellie to put the tool bag away. She does, marching off down the halls.
Joel stands you both over the sink, running the water until it’s decently warm. He helps wash your fingers off until the cuts are visible. They’re not too bad, but too deep to be left alone. Joel reaches up into a cabinet beside the sink and grabs some rubbing alcohol and some bandaids. You hiss when he pours the rubbing alcohol over the cuts, the stinging causing you to pull away on instinct. Joel gives you a minute before putting your fingers back under the water to wash away any more debris and any remaining alcohol. He turns the sink off and dabs the areas dry with a thin rag. Joel puts the bandaids on himself, he doesn’t give you a choice to try and put them on yourself. Once satisfied with his work, Joel finally lets you have your hand to yourself.
“Keep the bandaids on for a few days,” He tells you. “Either you can let them fall off or take them off when you’re ready. But if the cuts are still not healed when the bandaids come off, feel free to stop by and come grab some more.”
“Okay,” You nod, rubbing your good fingers against your injured ones, feeling the bumping texture of the bandaid. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” Joel nods.
Joel looks at you for a moment. You watch as his eyes dart from here to there. But he gets to look for only a moment before the front door is thrusted open. In comes Debby.
“Joel!” She calls into the house, looking ahead. “Sorry for stopping in like this, but I figured it’s dinner time and you’d want to know! And we can like totally walk there together if you’re. . . . ready. .”
Debby trails off at the end of her sentence as she makes eye contact with the pair of you. She assesses the situation before speaking.
“Y/n? What are you going her?” Her tone is a nice balance between friendly and surprised, but her eyes scream confusion and threat.
“I got hurt working today and Joel fixed me up,” You tell her.
“Oh! Are you okay?” Debby slams the front door shut, rattling some little figurines on a nearby table.
She grabs your fingers a bit roughly, making you wince, and looks them over.
“He fixed you right up, didn’t he?” Debby voiced is pitched. She looks at Joel, “Didn’t you, Joel?” She almost speaks to him like a puppy that’s done something cute.
Joel nods, “I offered.” His voice is monotone and he turns to put away the medical stuff, and throw away the bandaid wrappings.
“Well, girl!” Debby turns to you. “Don’t be such a klutz next time, yeah?”
“Umm,” You hesitate. “Yeah.”
Debby is tense. Almost as if she’s taking you being in Joel’s house as a threat to her crush on the man.
Ellie comes stomping down the hallway. She’s easy to hear when the kitchen has gone quiet. She calls out to Joel.
“I’m hungry, man!” She expressed. “When are we going to eat?”
She turns the corner and her raised eyebrows fall when she see the additional person in the kitchen. Ellie huffs, looking at Joel with an irritated expression. Joel gives the hint of one back.
“We can head out now,” Joel says.
“Good!” Ellie marches on to the front door and outside. She clobbers down the steps, “I’m so hungry!!”
You three adults trail after her. Joel turns on his porch light and shuts the front door. Joel takes big steps to catch up to his advancing daughter, urging her to slow down a bit.
Debby is uncharacteristically tense at dinner. Her chatter doesn't stop, but the edge to her tone gives her away. The table either doesn't notice or doesn't care. It's whatever to you, honestly. You're too focused on eating dinner, and figuring out how to hold a fork with three fingers.
"What happened there?" Tommy asks you during a break in Debby's dinner talk.
"Work accident," You tell Tommy after swallowing a bite of tonight's dinner. "One of the small saws slipped through my hand when I was helping Joel put tools away."
"It's hard to work in the cold," Tommy nods. "Your hands go numb and stuff. You got gloves for next time?"
You shake your head no.
"I can go by and get you some," Maria offers. "And some antibiotics, just in case."
"Oh thanks!" You thank Maria.
"I can drop them off at the barn if that works," Maria says.
"That works," You tell her. "Thank you."
"Anytime."
You find the gloves the next morning, sitting atop a stool that you use sometimes. You pull them on and get to work that day, training the dogs to go outside for potty instead of inside. You check up on your pregnant dog, which you've named "Mama." She doing good and growing steadily day by day. The only odd thing in the bunch is a dog at the end, that you've named "Mick" has got a case of the sniffles. You'll have to keep an eye on him.
After your little accident, the days go on. You have meals with the Miller family, which has lead to you and Ellie growing closer. She stops by the barn every once in a while, mostly to come play with the dogs and horses though. Debby and you grow closer as well, once you move past the tenseness she feels when she thinks you and Joel stand a little too close for her comfort. It's whatever to you, you're not entirely bothered by it. Maria and the Miller boys stop by too, to check in and stuff (Joel's excuse). Joel stops by a bit more than the couple though, just to see how the wood work is hanging, he says.
Mick, the skinny black mutt at the end of the row of kennels on the left, seems to get worse as the days go on. His sniffles and runny nose evolve into coughs, weakness, and a lack of eating. You get worried and run him to Jackson's local vet. The doctor says he's run into some type of winter cold. To her, it seems he's coming down from the worst of it. The vet gives you a small bag of this white powdery stuff and tells you to mix it in with his food and water. You follow orders, and give Mick another blanket.
There's one day, after dinner while you were checking on the dogs before you went home, that Mick doesn't get up. He hasn't really eaten since breakfast. You pet him, feeling his ears and they're burning hot. You worry and pace for a small bit, wondering what to do. You decide the best thing for Mick, and yourself, is to stay with him that night. You’re lucky that you wore some thicker clothes today, it’s supposed to be a cold one tonight. Despite Mick’s heat, he’s shivering. You pile up some blankets in the kennel and get settled for the night. All the lights in the barn are off, the only light now is coming from the heat lamps that hang low from the ceiling. You curl you and Mick into a corner. You sit up so Mick can lay on your lap. It’s uncomfortable but you fall asleep anyway.
You’re roused awake by someone calling your name. You think you’re dreaming until your name is called again. You blink open your eyes and see a figure crouched in front of you, resting a hand on your leg.
It’s Joel.
There concern written on his face, and perhaps a little bit of confusion.
“What are you doing here?” Joel asks in a hushed voice.
“Mick’s sick,” You voice is raspy with sleep and lack of water.
You palm Mick’s head, feeling around his fur. His heated ears have cooled considerably. Maybe he’s getting better.
Joel huffs, you’re not sure what for.
“What are you doing here?” You asks back, a little more awake now.
“Well your porch light wasn’t on and- and Ellie said you hadn’t come home yet,” Joel explains.
“What time is it?” You asks again. There’s not windows here to look out of to guesstimate the time.
“Awhile after midnight,” Joel answers. “The town’s already gone to sleep.”
“And why didn’t you,” You press.
Joel hesitates, “I. . . I couldn’t sleep.”
You hum in response.
“You mind if I stay with you?” Joel asks.
“Sure,” You nod.
Joel situations himself beside you, your shoulders are barely pressed against each other.
“It’s. . supposed to be cold tonight,” Joel notes.
“You want a blanket?” You ask, thinking that he’s implying that he’s cold.
“Sure,” Joel says.
He takes the one you hand him and situates it on top of himself.
Due to your tiredness, you fall back asleep rather quickly, enveloped in the warmth of the dog on your lap and the man on your side. Unbeknownst to you, when you do fall into a good sleep, your head falls to rest on Joel’s broad shoulder.
Joel’s a little tense at first, but when the heat from you and the heat lamp above soak into his clothes, he’s dozing right off to sleep.
The next morning, you wake by yourself. You're so so warm, but your body hurts so so bad. You rub the possibly bluriness from your eyes before opening them. The room is lit from the plastic doggy door. It's not too bright out, so either the sun isn't up all the way or it's super cloudy outside. As you wake up more, you realize the position your in.
Somehow, someway, you've made your way under Joel's arm and you're resting your head on his upper chest. Mick has moved as well, from your lap to Joel's. He looks comfy, passed out.
You reach over and pet Mick's head, massaging his ears. They've cooled back down to a regular temperature. Maybe all Mick needed was some company for a night. You sigh and settle back down. You close your eyes for a moment before you hear footsteps and someone clearing their throat. You open your eyes again and see Ellie standing in front of the kennel.
"So this is where Joel ran off to in the middle of the night?" Ellie whispered, an amused expression on her face.
"I thought you knew where Joel was," You asked, only a little confused.
"Oh no," Ellie shakes her head. "He ran off in the middle of the night. Something about going to the barn to check on something. I guess you were that something."
"I guess," You cast a glimpse at Joel. Since when did he become so worrisome, especially towards you. "What time is it?"
"Breakfast time," Ellie answered, "Which is why I stopped by here."
Ellie turned her attention towards Joel and raised her voice from a whisper, "Joel! Joel! It's like way past your morning alarm!"
Joel only groans in response. He stretches, raising his arms above his head. When he puts his arms back down, Joel traps you back against his oh so warm body. But he jumps when he feels you under him.
"Sorry. . 'bout that," Joel apolgizes, putting his arms down in front of him.
"It's alright," You tell him.
"So awkward," Ellie mumbles, kicking the dirt floor of the barn.
Joel moves to get up, but a furry body prevents him from doing so.
Mick shuffles and wakes from his slumber. Without picking up his head, he looks back at the two of you and wags his tail. He already looks so much better.
"You feeling better, boy?" You ask him, petting his head.
His sniffs your hand, and licks it.
"'cuse me, kid," Joel pats Mick on the head and shifts his legs little by little until Mick lifts his head. He gets up slowly, groaning as he uses his knees as leverage to get up from the dirt floor.
You follow suit, groaning as well. You'll be regretting sleeping in a dirt floor today. You do your best to stretch out your condensed muscles.
Joel limps and wobbles a little bit as he makes his way out of the kennel and to Ellie.
"That's what you get for sleeping on a dirt floor, man," Ellie shoves Joel lightly.
While the two bicker, you check up on Mick. He's sitting up now, wagging his tail while doing his best to give you a tired little smile. He looks so much better now! Especially with the lack of sniffling and coughing.
After a few minutes of petting Mick, you turn towards the bickering father and daughter, "You don't mind if I feed the dogs real quick before breakfast, do you?"
"Not at all," Joel says.
"Can I help?" Ellie asks excitedly.
"Sure!" You say.
You tell her to gather the bowls from the kennels on the right while you gather the bowls from the kennels on the left. You fill the bowls and split the ten bowls between you two again to deliver them to the dogs. After feeding, you also refill their water bowls. Soon enough, the dogs are chowing down on their food and you three head off to the mess hall.
It's cold out, colder than when you arrived at Jackson. It seems the worst of winter is making it's way up and into the mountains. You're glad to get into the warm mess hall as soon as possible.
Once you three get settled and start eating and conversating with the rest of your group, a shadow at the corner of your eye causes you to turn to your right.
A young woman stands to your right, looking a little nervous as she twiddles her fingers.
"You work at the kennels, right?" She asks.
"I do," You nod. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, I was just wondering if any dogs are available for adoption," The woman explains. "I just feel bad 'cause it's getting colder out now."
"I'd say the dogs are ready for adoption," You tell her. "You can come by the barn after breakfast to come check the dogs out."
"Oh thank you!" She smiles. "I'll see you after breakfast!!"
The young woman practically skips back to her table, excitedly telling her group of friends her plans for the afternoon.
Breakfast goes by unexcitedly. The only relatively interesting news that is that Joel will be going out on patrol today, but that's about it.
The Millers, Debby, and you go your separate ways after dinner. You trot in the direction of the barn, meeting the lady from the beginning of breakfast there. She shows up soon after you, introducing herself as Mary. Mary brings along a friend as well, a woman around her age named Saturn.
You introduce the duo to the resident dogs, telling them about their personalities and any mishaps they've had while at the kennel.
Mary takes a shibu and Saturn takes a chow. As a form of payment, they exchange some homemade stuff that they made in their free time, like soaps and a wood carved duck. You give the ladies their dogs' favorite blankets and bid them goodbye.
As soon as you're doing cleaning up the empty kennels, a few more people stop by that are interesting in adopting some dogs as well. Soon enough, you have a little gathering of people in the room. By the afternoon, all dogs except Mama, your resident pregnant german shepherd. Someone even adopted Mick, even though he was recently sick. You told Mick's owner what the vet told you about his bag of medicine. The owner reassured you that Mick was in good hands.
It was quiet in the room now. You cleaned up slowly, folding blankets and stacking food and water bowls. You sighed, resting on the counter that sat against the right wall and looked at Mama.
"Well, looks like it me and you now, girl," You told her.
She wagged her tail in response.
You paused for a few moments, thinking. You figured that bringing Mama to your house, instead of leaving her here, wouldn't be so bad.
"You wanna come home with me?" You asked Mama, opening her kennel door.
In response, she got up and hobbled her way over to you.
You figured that was a yes, and you gathered up her blankets and food bowls. You led the way through the barn, letting Mama either stop for a sniff or pause for a break. She was about as big as a hippo now, and no doubt was she about to pop any day now.
You two slowly made your way back to your house, and you get Mama settled in the downstairs bedroom with all her blankets. For now, you place her food and water bowl in the kitchen.
It's afternoon by the time you've settled you and Mama at home. You're not sure what to do now that you don't have ten dogs to take care of. Maybe you'd eat lunch or something. It's a bit late for lunch, but that means you missed the lunch rush. You pat Mama on the head and tell her you’re off for lunch. She's rested up on the couch and she makes no sign to move from her spot on the couch as you open the front door.
You walk by the barn on your way to the mess hall and see Ellie making her way from the barn. She looks a little dejected before she see you, and then she lights right back up. The girl trots right over to you, bumping into your shoulder when she’s close enough.
“Whatcha up to, kid?” You ask.
"Well, Joel's on patrol and the kids here and doing something totally lame so.. I was looking for you and saw all the dogs were gone," Ellie kicked some dirt at the end of her explanation, hiding her dejection.
"Oh sorry kid," you apologized. "Yeah, most the dogs got adopted out today. The only dog that didn't was Mama, the pregnant one."
"Where is she?" Ellie asked. "She's not in the barn or outside."
"I actually brought her home," You told Ellie. "I didn't think it was fair to leave her there herself, especially since she's already so close to having her puppies."
"Oh is she really?" Ellie looked up at you, surprised.
"I know!" You acknowledge her surprise. "It doesn't feel like that much time has passed but I guess it has."
Ellie nodded.
"Well.. I am going to the mess hall to get some lunch if you'd like to join," You offered.
"Sure!" Ellie took your offer and you two were off to the mess hall.
Since you two were taking a late lunch, there were very few people in the mess hall. Only a few of the kitchen staff and a few people eating late lunch were seen in the mess hall.
You and Ellie decided to sit at your regular table but across from each other. It was nice to have someone sit across from you for once, especially someone so pleasant to talk to. Ellie was so pleasant to talk to that you two accidentally had stayed until evening, when the early eaters started trickling in. In a decision to make room for the early dinner crowd, you and Ellie had decided to go and walk around town. There was a slight chill to the air, but nothing too bad. The lack of a breeze made the early evening air easier to handle.
Eventually, you two had made your way back to your house. Ellie had beelined for Mama, who hadn't moved from her spot on the couch. You gotten the three of you settled in your living room with blankets and warm drinks. You and Ellie got to know each other more and you learned she wasn't originally from Jackson like you thought, but from the east coast. In return, you told her where you came from. You two ended up bonding over the struggles of the world outside of Jackson.
Around mid-conversation, a frantic knocking was heard from your front door. You paused and turned, glancing over at Ellie who looked as confused as you did. You got up and opened your front door caustiously.
A sobbing and hyperventilating Debby. She practically burst through your partially opened front door and into your arms. You barely caught her as you stumbled back. She was mumbling incoherently through her sobs and hiccups.
"What?" You asked, trying to pry the sobbing woman from your arms.
"Joel's hurt!!" Debby yelled through her tears.
Panic and alarm hit you. You looked and Ellie to see the same emotions mirrored onto her face. She shucked on her jacket and was out the door before you could get Debby up onto her feet. You shoved Debby out and mumbled a "be back" to Mama before shutting your front door and attempting to catch up to a sprinting Ellie.
Ellie had burst through Jackson's infirmary before you got there, calling out for her dad. You and Debby caught up to her. You stood behind Ellie, looking for Joel while Debby clung to your jacket.
A sob tore from Debby's throat and she lunged forward, leaving you and Ellie behind.
Predicting the distraught woman's path, you spotted Joel settled in a back corner. There was blood on his face and his right eye was squinty. His clothes and hair were disheveled, splattered with blood. Currently, his hands were being cleaned up and bandaged. Whoever he got in a fight with, neither of the opponents came out pretty.
You nudged Ellie and led her quickly and quietly from the infirmary to her dad. Once there, Debby was all over him. Sobbing and pawing at the injured man. Joel winced at her ministration, looking tired and irritated.
"Ma'am. Ma'am," One of the nurses called attention to Debby. "You're getting in the way of his treatment. Please back away."
The nurse's words had no affect, and Debby ended up having to be pulled away from Joel and calmed down on another cot nearby.
You decided to let Debby have some time to herself and stay here with Ellie in case she needed any support.
Ellie stood there nervously, not wanting to get in the way of the nurses but also wanted to be next to Joel.
"He'll be okay," Ellie mumbled to herself. "He's been through so much worse."
You pat Ellie on her shoulder, comforting her the best you could in the situation.
At the mumbling, Joel looked up and made eye contact with Ellie. He adjusted on the cot and pat the spot beside him. Ellie sat down beside Joel, practically pressed up against him.
"What happened?" Ellie asked.
“Just some raiders that ambushed us over by the ridge,” Joel explained.
He winced when the nurse dabbed at the cut above Joel’s right eye, as she had finished tending to his hands.
You glanced down at his hands. They were relaxed at the moment. There were some cuts and splotches of bruises littered across the peak of Joel’s knuckles. Joel’s left hand was bandaged from the knuckles and down around his wrist. He must’ve gotten really hurt on that hand.
“Well, you fucked them up pretty good, right?” Ellie asked, her tone indicating that she was trying to lighten the mood a little.
“ ‘course,” Joel chuckled, patting Ellie on the knee.
Two bodies joined you on one side. You looked over to see Maria and Tommy. They both looked over at Debby before turning their attention to Joel.
“What’s up with her?” Tommy asked you, confusion on his face.
“No idea,” You shrugged.
You noticed a black eye forming under Tommy’s left, mirroring Joel’s squinty right eye.
“You on patrol too?” You asked.
“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Joel seemed to have gotten the worst of it compared to me.”
You nodded.
“He’s tough though,” Maria noted, switching her attention from Joel to you. “I heard you had a busy day at the kennels. How many dogs got adopted?”
“All but one,” You answered.
“Oh really?” Tommy looked surprised. “I figured they all would’ve gone.”
“The only one that didn’t go was the pregnant one,” You told him. “But I brought her home cause it didn’t feel fair to leave her up there all by herself.”
“She didn’t give birth yet?” Maria asked.
“Nope,” You said. “Any day now though.”
Maria nodded.
The nurse stood from her stool and worked on gathering her medical supplies, “All fixed up, Miller. Take it easy for a few days.”
“I’ll try,” Joel responded.
He groaned as he got up. The man massaged the back of his neck with a hand, squinting in discomfort. Joel eyed the three of you, no readable emotion in his eyes.
“I need a drink,” Joel groaned.
“I bet you do,” Tommy chuckled.
“You wanna join?” The older Miller brother switched his attention to you.
“Awe what?!” Ellie exclaimed. “Then who am I gonna hang out with?”
“Go hang out with that Dina girl,” Joel reasoned. “You seem to like her a lot.”
Ellie scoffed, her cheeks turning just the slightest of pinks, “I guess..”
“I’ll be okay, kid,” Joel told his kid.
“Plus, it’s about time we get this hermit out her shell,” Tommy joked, bumping your shoulder with his fist.
You rolled your eyes playfully, “Those dogs loved me.”
“ ‘course,” Tommy shrugged.
The younger Miller lead the way out of the infirmary and into the cold winter air.
The sun was just a few feet above the horizon line now, painting the sky in oranges and pinks. A few people were out and about, but due to the cold weather slowly making its way over the mountains there weren’t many.
Once you’d reached the bar, called Tipsy Bison, Joel told Ellie to scamper off (in his grumpy, loving way) before leading the five of you into the bar. Because of course once Debby had seen Joel up and walking, she had attached herself to his hip and snuggled up to him all the way to the bar. You’d decided to hang back with Tommy and Maria to avoid awkwardness.
Being quite early at the bar had its quirks apparently. You’d all gotten chairs at the bar-top right next to each other. In a way to for you not to feel left out, you sat between the Miller brothers. You talked primarily with Tommy and Maria, as Joel seemed only focused on drinking at the moment.
As the sun set and more people trickled in, the five of you moved to a table near the outer circle and away from the crowd. With the table being circular, there was a bit more of an even option to talk to everyone. Most talk was about the town’s going ons and how the patrol went. You chipped in a couple times, but not too much. You’d spent these past few months in the barn and the mess hall, so you had no interesting news to share with the group.
Slowly, music had started from a jukebox in the corner of the bar and as people started dancing, Tommy and Maria had excused themselves and disappeared into the crowd. This left you with Debby and Joel, which wouldn’t have been awkward if it weren’t for Debby’s one-sided flirting towards a very tired-looking Joel.
You excused yourself and headed off towards the bar to get another drink.
It was louder over by the bartop compared to your little corner near the back of the barn. Thankfully, you ordered your drink without much hassle. You waited patiently, standing with your forearms resting on the counter and tapping your fingers against the wood along with the music. You felt a body join you on your left, but thought nothing of it until they started talking.
“You looking for someone to dance with?”
A tall blond man stood on your left, leaning against the counter with one arm. He already held a drink in his hand. His blue eyes looked you up and down, only briefly making eye contact.
“No,” You observed him briefly, before looking ahead at the bar again.
“Awe.. Why not?” The man sighed, setting a hand on your upper arm. “You got something better to do?”
You only looked at the blond man. After a few heartbeats went by, you tried to pull your arm away from the unknown man but to no avail. This man kept a rather tight grip on your upper arm.
“Well?” The man asks.
“Can you let me go please?” You try to pull your arm away with a bit more force this time.
“Why?” The blond man only tightened his grip. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
Before you could respond, you could feel an overbearing presence over your shoulder. You didn’t have a chance to look at the person before they spoke.
“Is there a problem here?” Joel spoke from behind you.
When the blond man made eye contact with Joel, he let go of your arm so fast that you almost thought something burned him. His previously smirky expression developed into one of panic and fear. The man scooted back from you a bit.
“No-nothing for you to worry about, Joel,” The man seemed to have a bit of confidence still in him as he tried to tell Joel off.
“Go scamper off, kid,” Joel brushed the comment aside. “Go bother someone who wants to be bothered.”
The blond man huffed and left your side, shoulder-checking Joel before stalking off into the crowd. You watched the man walk off before Joel joined you at the bar top counter.
“You alright?” He asked, ordering his own drink when a bartender came by.
“Yeah,” You nodded. “I’m more weirded out than anything.”
Joel nodded. He set a soft hand on your upper arm, patting it once or twice while you waited for your drinks.
After getting your drinks, you and Joel went back to your table.
Debby had left and you couldn’t see her anywhere in the crowd. You assumed she went off into the crowd after Joel went to get another drink for himself. You weren’t worried too much. Your friend has lived in Jackson longer than you, so you trusted that she knew her way around town.
“So,” Joel took a sip of his drink. “Got anything going on for the rest of the night?”
“Umm.. Probably just gonna go home, check on Mama, and go to bed,” You told him. “Not the most excited.”
“You mind if I. . joined you? If that’s not a problem,” Joel took another sip from his drink, as if hiding behind the glass.
"Not at all," You smiled.
Joel's sudden shyness was unlike him, as was the pink tint to his cheeks. Why? Was it hot in here? You didn't think so. You shrugged his reaction off, not thinking anything about it.
After sipping down your drink, you and Joel left Tipsy Bison and headed off to your house. It was dark out now, and much colder than today. Not many people were on the streets either, not unusual for a cold winter night in Jackson. After your walk through town, you came up onto your porch. You noticed a medium-sized black lump on your porch. You didn't turn your porch on before you left in the late afternoon, so it was hard to tell what was on your porch.
As you came closer, the black lump lifted up it's head. It was a dog. The dog wagged it's tail as you came closer. Joel hung back a bit as you stepped up onto your porch. In the full moon light, you could see the black dog was Mick! He must've ran away from home and found your house!
"It's just Mick," You turned and told Joel. "He must've gotten out from his owner's house earlier."
"Ah," Joel joined you up on the porch and gave the black dog a few pats on the head. "Okay."
You opened your front door and welcomed Joel and Mick into your house. You told Joel to make himself comfortable.
As you hung up your jacket onto the hooks on the wall by your door, you noticed the lack of Mama's greeting as you came inside. You told Joel you'll be right back, you're just going to check up on your dog. You made your way into the downstairs bedroom and was greeted by small yaps and the thump of a wagging tail. You turned the light on and saw Mama laying in a nest of blankets with three very tiny bodies nestled against her belly.
"Oh!" You exclaimed.
You joined Mama on the floor, checking the new puppies. They weren't wet and all were breathing fine. You concluded that Mama must have given birth sometime early into your night out. You gave your dog a couple pats on the head and moved her water bowl closer to her so she could take a drink.
The click-clack of claws and the thumping of boots made you turn around.
Joel and Mick stood in the doorway. Upon the sight of Mama, Mick came in and gave Mama a couple licks on the head before settling down beside her. Joel still stood there, observing the situation.
"You alright in here?" He asked. "Thought I heard you say something?"
"I was just surprised that Mama gave birth already," You told Joel, settling down into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor. "Would you like to come see?"
"Sure," Joel was quick to come settle down beside you, letting Mama sniff his hand before giving her some well-deserved pets on the head.
You watched him interact with the dogs, surprised to see Joel relax so quickly in the presence of animals. It was almost like you weren't in the room with him anymore. Almost.
Joel sat up a bit, looking at you now, "So how are those fingers?"
You brought your hand up to look at your injured fingers, "They're not too bad. Still a little tender." You looked up at Joel. "How's your face?"
"Sore," Joel responded, smiling a bit.
"Too bad I couldn't be the one to fix you up," You sighed a little. "To repay the favor."
"Next time," Joel said.
"Next time?" You questioned, surprised. "I hope next time is just a little scratch and not a spilt eyebrow."
Joel only laughed at you.
You two spent the rest of the night sitting in the room with the dogs and getting to know each other a little more. Joel was a complicated, many-layered man who seemed to have very few soft spots. You were happy to be friends with Joel, but something deep down was tempting to see if you could be more.
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commandershepardvasfuckit · 8 months ago
Text
An Arranged Marriage, part 12
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
M!troll x f!reader
1.2k words
(Also, ask box is always open, I am literally always vibrating out of my skin to talk about this man)
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Sometime ago Zen’jan had stopped purring and seemed to be entirely asleep on your lap. You kept combing out his hair as long as you could, stopping only when you could not reach anymore because how he was laying back. It was a marvel just how much hair he was shedding, your lap was covered in green hairs and you had amassed quite a pile next to you as you cleaned out the comb.
With his head tilted on your lap one of his ears was sticking up, much longer and pointier than an elf’s, and you could not help tracing your finger along the edge. Midway up his ear there was a sizable tear and numerous nicks all up and down the sides. He sighed in his sleep while you played with his ear, maybe one day you would get up the courage to do things like that when he was awake too.
He seemed happy, a strange realization you had as you watched him doze. Sure he had smiled and joked with you a bit in the last month, but this was different, this was actual genuine happiness.
And it was weird to realize you were pretty happy too. For the first time in your life you were able to go where you wanted and do what you wanted. You had free reign to roam the city without being dogged by attendants chaperoning you around and deciding where you were allowed. You could go where you wanted, talk to who you wanted, just do what you wanted.
Maybe what was the most weird was without a doubt you knew Zen cared about you. You were not sure if you could call it love, from either of you, but he truly did everything he could to take care of you.
Your hand drifted from his ear back to his hair, he was shedding much less now as you ran your fingers through it. It was the dense, thick second layer to his hair seemed to be what was mainly shedding, then there were the longer strands that laid on top and gave his hair its length. You found yourself just absentmindedly playing with his hair while you got lost in your thoughts.
“Having fun?”
Startled, you looked down to see Zen looking back up at you smiling.
“You do not have to wait until I fall asleep to touch me you know” he continued.
“How long have you been awake?” you asked.
“Since you were touching my ear”.
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“No, it felt nice and I figured you would stop if you knew I was awake”
He was right. You were not sure why but you still felt embarrassed by it.
“Are you getting hungry? I did not mean to fall asleep again, so by now you must be starving” he asked.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve eaten since breakfast yesterday”.
“Would you prefer to stay home and rest, or would you like to come with me?” he asked.
You thought about it for a moment, part of you just wanted to wrap up in blankets and stay in the warmth and safety of your home, the other part of you did not like the idea of being left alone.
“I’ll come with you” you decided.
The two of you walked the streets of the market quarter of the city, Zen close enough to be brushing against you at all times. It seemed he was making up for lost time now that you were comfortable with him touching you.
He happily let you lead the way to any food stalls that caught your attention and translated for you so you could ask questions about any foods you were not familiar with. It was a nice change just to walk around with him eating street food and chatting, sure you were still exhausted, but this was a good distraction.
“You just let me know where you want to go and what you want to do” he said and gave your shoulder a squeeze.
You yelped, your shoulder stung and felt raw when he touched it.
“I am so sorry, did I grab you too hard?” he asked, panicked by your reaction.
“No, no it’s not that, just stings” you said.
“Let me see” carefully he tugged the collar of your shirt aside to check on your shoulder, “How did you not feel this before, look”
You looked at the top of your shoulder, your skin was bright red and angry and stung where his fingers accidentally grazed it. The redness continued down the top part of your arm.
“From the sun yesterday, since your shoulders and arms were not really covered” he said, “We can get something for it on the way home”.
The two of you continued your walk, Zen insisting on buying all sorts of sweets and snacks for later. He paused in front of a small shop before ducking inside with you in tow. Herbs and plants overflowed from shelves and hung from the ceiling and an older troll woman sat behind the counter.
She called out in the troll language to the two of you and you smiled politely, not knowing what she said.
Zen however immediately launched into an animated conversation. You smiled while you watched him, he was much livelier speaking his own language, gesturing with his hands and emoting. You loved listening to him speak even if you did not know what he was saying, he always seemed happier using his language versus his stiff common.
The two of you left the shop with a small jar of something and made your way home.
“May I?” he asked as the two of you sat together at home on the bed. He was holding the little jar from the shop and gesturing to your shoulder.
You tugged the edge of your collar aside and Zen quickly got to applying whatever was in the jar. It was cold against your skin, but did help take the sting away. Gently he continued, moving on to your other shoulder and both arms. It was nice a nice feeling as he sat behind you, the quiet sort of intimacy of just helping someone.
You leaned back against him, resting your back on his chest and he lowered his head down on top of yours. You reached up and offered him some of the pastry you had been eating, though instead he planted a few soft kisses along the inside of your wrist, his gentle show of affection made your heart flutter a bit.
“Are you happy, Zen?” you asked.
“I am” his lips were still against your wrist as he spoke, “Are you?”
You thought about it again. You were in a city where you did not speak the language, your husband followed the lord of shadows and you were still avoiding unpacking your feelings about that, and in the last month you really had only made one friend. But you were happy, more than anything you were free.
“I am” you said.
“Good” he nuzzled the top of your head, “Do I still need to sleep on the floor?” he teased.
You turned sideways a bit and buried your face into his chest, “No, I think I really liked sleeping together earlier” you could not look at him while you admitted it.
“I am happy that you feel comfortable with me now”
You could hear his soft purr as he spoke.
Part 13
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whumpyboo · 2 months ago
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Drabble: Caretaker New Master pt.2
part 1 here <3
[again, they/them for whumpee and he/him for caretaker]
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
It didn't take long for caretaker to find whumpee. What worried him most was how long they had been outside in the cold before he had come home. Given that the stove was cold, and that the blood on the floor was dry, caretaker didn't waste a second before following whumpee's trail to the back door.
Sure enough, whumpee hadn't run far. They were curled up on themself in a corner, behind the rose bush. Or- what would be a rose bush come spring. At the moment, whumpee was sitting in the snow, next to some sad dry branches.
Caretaker halted suddenly, a few steps away from whumpee. They were shivering. From fear or the cold, neither could tell.
"Whumpee." Caretaker called, softly.
Whumpee wasn't crying, but it was clear when they lifted their head that they had been. In a heartbeat, caretaker abandoned any caution they usually had around whumpee. He closed the distance between them and dropped their jacket on whumpee's shoulders before crouching beside them.
"What happened?"
Whumpee gasped. Almost a laugh. Caretaker really was so naive sometimes. It didn't matter what happened. Whumpee had made a mess. They had made a mistake after the other, and on top of it all they had been so paralysed with fear they hadn't even cleaned it up. And now caretaker would leave them too. They had ruined the best thing they ever had.
"I'm a bad pet."
Whumpee answered, then just stared straight ahead and waited for their punishment to come. Caretaker sighed, and raised to his feet. Whumpee expected him to turn around and leave them out in the cold for the night. It would serve them well after how they acted. Whumpee waited for them to walk away. They waited, and waited, but he didn't.
Caretaker knew all along that whumpee needed structure, he just didn't want it to mean orders. He had stalled too long, selfishly hoping whumpee would just miraculously forget all about the years of conditioning as if by magic. He finally had to admit it couldn't be so easy. This accident was his fault and he would be the one to fix it.
"Whumpee." He called again, this time firmer, yet not unkindly. "Get up." It was a command, no two ways about it. Whumpee stood up. As if there had been invisible strings moving them.
Whumpee swallowed. They were still scared, but at least now they didn't have to worry about what to do. Whatever would happen next, it wasn't up to them. That settled something in their stomach.
They followed easily as caretaker lead them to the bathroom. They sat on the edge of the tub while he filled it, watched as he disinfected their arm, and stayed silent while caretaker relieved them of their wet clothes.
It was only when they had stopped shivering, once they were dry and wrapped in several warm blankets, that caretaker spoke again.
"You are a good pet. I'll be a better master from now on."
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eldritch-spouse · 2 months ago
Note
What would Morrell do if his s/o was equally as obsessive? Like he goes to clean out their little stall in the warehouse and finds like. A collection of his things that have steadily been going missing or fingertips he's accidentally chopped off himself during work?
[A pleasant scenario, all things considered.]
TW: Brief gore (severed limbs)
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Sometimes he has hard weeks.
It's not anyone's fault, really. You're well-behaved, have been really understanding and adorable so far, but Morell knows it's too soon to get his hopes up and let his guard down, so you had to remain in the warehouse for most days of this week, where he would pop in far too hurried to notice what you'd been up to.
It's only when he's made up his mind, wanting to move you into a guest room, that the chef can finally think and be clear-headed. The monster was picking up the makeshift bed he made when a pile of objects tumbled to the ground... There's that laddle he never saw again, the towel he used to keep sweat off his face, spoons and forks and- His fingers? Those should be in the trash.
For a blissfully ignorant moment, Morell thinks the bobbles are the ones who ended up bringing you this. Maybe Turnip and Pepper have been trying to keep you company, bringing things they think would interest you. Alfredo might have tried to give you a snack, in the form of the one thing Morell wouldn't complain about, his own severed body parts.
The shroom squats near his rotting appendages. " Did'ja eat any of that? " The thought isn't just revolting, it's worrying. After all, his limbs still remain poisonous after being removed. The idea that you could have bitten into them and possibly died makes his heart race.
Thankfully, you shake your head, nervously shying from his presence.
It takes a second, maybe a minute of Morell scritchimg his cap, before it sinks in.
Ohhh.
A pile of his personal belongings, of his body parts, a collection of him covered by an old blanket. You miss him. You can't stand being away from him.
You love him.
Hah.
The shroom suddenly gets up, tossing the blankets back where they were, startling you in the process. Meaty hands clap together
" Change o' plans, Piglet. "
The look on your face is adorable. Aw, do you think he's going to keep you holed up here another week? No, you've more than proven yourself.
" I'm takin' you home. "
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buckysgrace · 11 months ago
Text
Yellow Daises
Steve Harrington x fem!reader lil blurb CW: Blowjobs, some spitting
Steve’s picnic date falls through.
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He had tried so hard. His frustration was high, his nerves shot as each thing slowly but surely fell apart.
The chocolate strawberries he’d spent so long on had sweated away; the chocolate melting into soup and leaving the berries soggy. The top piece of bread to your sandwich had blown off with the wind, then a cricket had jumped onto the main part of it. You had laughed and squealed about it, but he could feel his confidence failing.
The breaking point had been the bag of chips that just wouldn’t open, until they did. Covering both of you and the blanket with chips and crumbs as the bag crumpled lazily on his tight grip.
“Fuck,” He spit out in frustration, trying to figure out why he was being punished for this dare going so wrong. His first one in a long time and he had fucked it up, “I’m sorry.”
“Steve, it’s okay,” You said with a laugh, “It’s not your fault. Is the blanket clean?” You asked as you drifted your fingers across the plaid design. He sighed.
“Yeah,” He mumbled in defeat as he shrugged his shoulders, “I got it yesterday.” He admitted, but left out the part where he had taken a long time to wash, dry and iron it. It was silly.
You shrugged your shoulders as you reached for a chip near your knee, plopping it into your mouth and chewing it with a loud crunch. He watched you in fascination.
“Do you have any spoons?” You questioned next as you turned to face him, “Or a straw?” You hummed as you looked at the bowl that held his soupy strawberries.
“You don’t have to eat that,” He replied as he gently took the container from your hands, “I’m sorry this royally sucks.”
“I didn’t agree to date you for the incredible food,” You grinned as you looked at him, “Although, you do have some talent scooping those cones.”
“It’s all in the wrist.” He smiled back, feeling a little bit better as he twisted his hands around for extra effect. You laughed at his motions, making his stomach flutter at the sound. It was the prettiest thing he'd ever heard.
You scooted a little closer to him, your legs sliding over his as a playful grin lingered on your lips. You drifted your fingers across the hem of his shirt, leaving his heart hammering roughly inside of his chest as you tugged on it. He could feel his blood rushing down his body, leaving him gulping hard at the awkward position he was in now.
"I really appreciate you doing all of this," You added softly, fingers moving to his belt as he continued to struggle to breathe. You were so close to his cock that he could feel himself beginning to ache, shivering underneath your touch, "S'nice." You added sweetly, biting down on your bottom lip as his belt fell loose.
"You don't have to," He replied quickly, tongue flicking out for a second as he watched you shift between his legs. You flattened yourself out, laying on your stomach before you stalled at the zipper of his jeans, "Unless you really want to." He added a second later, face flushed at the way your hand brushed over his growing bulge.
"I really do," You teased, smiling sweetly as you lightly kicked your feet in the air, "As a thank you for all your hard work." You nodded your head, laughing softly as you freed his hard cock from the restraints of his pants.
He exhaled harshly, watching the way your eyes gleamed with lust as you savored the look of him. You wiggled a little closer to him, fingers lightly brushing against the girth of his cock while you delivered a fat kiss against the tip of his dick.
He hissed at the contact, cock throbbing underneath your soft touch as you continued to press gentle kisses along his leaking tip. Your eyes latched to him, staring intensely as you began to roll your tongue out across his pink skin.
"Fuck," He exhaled harshly, stomach fluttering in pleasure as he fell back to his elbows. You wrapped a hand around his girth, giving his base a soft squeeze before you curved your motions along the length of his dick, "Feels really good." He spit out, a whimper falling free as you repeated the motions.
"You look so pretty, Stevie," You whispered softly, licking away his precum as he jerked his hips forward to meet the way your hand fell to his base again, "Wanna make you feel good." You added, making his eyes flutter again as your warm words settled over him.
His mind felt hazy as you rolled your tongue across his tip once again, your saliva drooling down the length of his cock as he throbbed in your hands. Your breath was a little cool as you slid the head of his cock past your lips, forcing your jaw to relax as you slowly slid him into your mouth.
His fingertips twitched against the blanket, his body trembling underneath you as one of your palms fell flat against his hip. You held him in place, squeezing his balls with your other hand as his cock slid deeper inside of your mouth.
You could only stuff about half of his dick inside of your mouth before you were gagging, eyebrows furrowing together and eye lashes fluttering as you blinked away tears. Drool pooled from the corner of your lips, coating his cock in your spit as you messily dragged your hand up and down in the same rhythm as your mouth.
He pressed his hips up, his heavy cock hitting the back of your throat as you began to gag all over again. You moaned along his dick, sounds muffled as he admired the way your lips stretched around his thick girth.
He hissed at the feeling of your tongue dragging along his throbbing skin, soothing the growing ache as you began to move your mouth faster along the curve of his cock.
"Oh God," He groaned from deep within his chest, moans rushing from his tongue as he felt the burning pleasure growing through his body. He huffed, his hips moving without his command as you tried to press down on his body once again, "Fuck, fuck!" He cursed, feeling the awe rush over him.
You squeezed at his balls, rubbing the drool across his skin as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat with each thrust. He felt his lips part further, his eyes shut as his head fell back as the feeling of you swallowing around his cock sent him over the edge.
His ass left the blanket as he pressed himself deep inside of your mouth, sending you gagging even harder as you tightly gripped a hold of his hips. You held onto him as the waves of pleasure crashed inside of him, snapping as his came down your throat.
The sun was hot against his skin as he fell back into the blanket in a huff, his arm resting over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel his heart racing, his pulse vibrating against his bones as you slowly pulled away.
He could feel the mess of saliva and cum on his cock before he saw just a quick glimpse of it, his mind still hazy as you slowly crawled over his body.
He moved his hands to your hips, brown eyes wide as he stared up at the way you blocked out the sun from his eyes. He licked his bottom lip, knitting his eyebrows together as you slowly pressed his lips apart.
And then you spit. A thick mixture of drool and cum landing on his teeth and tongue as he stared in disbelief. He felt like he should recoil, but all he felt was a sense of electricity thrumming through his body.
You watched, tilting your head expectantly before he pressed his lips together and swallowed roughly. It tasted odd, but the satisfied smirk on your lips was enough to make him want to do it again and again.
"Good boy." You cooed as you rubbed at his cheek, making his skin warm underneath your touch. He was hooked.
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compact-turtle · 2 years ago
Note
So I’m my area, I’m in the country, it’s pretty common to see women just in their bikinis laid on a blanket/chair out in the yard to tan. It’s the country, ya know? No one sees you, except for whomever lives with you. It’s just something we do. How would Atticus feel about that tho? Seeing his darling in skimpy bathing-suit laying outside to tan??
I'm slowly and steadily finally going through my inbox after five months. Sorry to everyone if I don't make it to your post there's like 100+ things in my inbox :(
That would be so sweet actually. Imagine him getting butterflies and everything seeing you openly tan in a skimpy bathing suit.
----
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Content Warning: slight n--s--f---w.
-Today was a mandatory laundry day for Atticus. He was officially out of clean clothes. Everything was dirty and starting to smell worse than the cows on a hot day. Of course, he didn't mind it too much, but you were here. What would you think if he didn't keep up with his hygiene?
-A basket of wet laundry was at his feet as he started to pin them up to dry. He'd much rather be out milking the cows or tending to the crops than doing this. Still, it gave Atticus time to be lost in his thoughts.
-He wondered how long he could stall you from leaving. It'd already been a few weeks since your car broke down and he knew everyone was getting antsy. Especially, after working so much on the farm.
-To combat this, he started giving everyone more breaks and days off. He even attempted to encourage them to view this as a "rent-free-all-expense-paid-vacation" in a beautiful rural setting. Thankfully, all your little friends seemed to be airheaded enough to believe this. They ain't got a lick of sense to them.
-His attention was pulled away when he noticed you from the corner of his eye. He tried watching you discreetly; wondering what you were doing. In your hands, there was a large blanket and a tote bag. You were dressed in a long white t-shirt that reached barely past your butt.
-You threw him a warm smile along as you walked past him. You stopped near an oak tree and began to lay out your blanket. Gently, you set your bag down and then took out a few items.
Perhaps you were out on a small picnic today?
-He watched slack-jawed as you removed your t-shirt to reveal everything hidden underneath. The silhouettes of your body seemed to be chiseled by the hand of a celestial sculptor. He'd gladly worship it, adorn it with jewels, anything you wanted. Your skin was like a holy text, inviting him to devote himself even deeper.
"Looks like you're begging for a mighty big sunburn there," Atticus said as he walked up. His gaze cast down as he avoided eye contact.
"No worries! I brought sunscreen with me! Actually, could you help put it on my back?" You asked as you searched in your bag for a bottle of sunscreen. You pulled it out and handed it to Atticus with a bright smile.
-He nodded, then took the bottle from you. Slowly, he poured the sunscreen into his rugged hands. He gently began to spread it out on your back.
-Atticus nervously wondered if you minded his calloused hands. Were they scratching up your back? Or was it making you regret asking him?
-Still, more than anything, he was giddier than a schoolchild. He loved the way your skin felt underneath his hands. Your skin was like a delicate canvas, soft and flawless in his eyes. This felt like a privilege to trace his fingers all across your back. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to touch the skin underneath your clothes.
"Atticus, it hurts. Be more gentle." You tenderly mumbled, "Don't push into my back so hard."
-He felt something familiar rise in his lower area. it took everything in him to not pounce on you right now. Atticus would love to litter kisses all over your back. He'd kiss every part until you were tired of it all.
-He desperately wanted needed to rut into you. To show, that he could satisfy you in any compacity you wanted. He imagined your voice moaning out in a breathy tone, begging him to just go harder and faster. Of course, he’s comply with your demands and go as faster as you want. Then he’d lean down and suck y-
"That should be good now, Atticus. Thank you for the help." You said as you flipped yourself around to face him.
-His eyes briefly dipped down to view your whole body. Another small wave of imagination rolled over him.
"No problem. Seems like all your little friends disappeared."
"It's sweet that you're worried about them! Everyone is swimming in the creek nearby. I was going to join them but figured I'd tan instead. I haven't been able to do it all summer. Especially due to our road trip."
"I see. Where'd ya get this tiny piece you got on from? Don't look like it covers much of anything."
"Oh, does it make you uncomfortable? I can go and change if-."
"No. It's fine. Just go on back and do your own thing." Atticus interrupted quickly, "Don't mind me."
-He watched as you laughed and nodded. Atticus turned back towards the house. His pace was unusually brisk with heavy panting.
-The laundry could wait. He had more important things to do right now.
----------------------------------------------------------------
(That may or may not involve fantasies of you two in some intense yoga positions)
849 notes · View notes
likelyamused · 3 months ago
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The last song of the set ends. Everyone looks like they’re coming out of water for air: glistening, out of breath, suddenly thrown back into reality. “Let’s give it up for Busted Moose!" The crowd cheers for the band one last time.
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“While the next band gets ready, I’d like to remind you to vote for your favorite of the night. We’re planning one hell of a party with the winners on the first Friday of the New Year!”
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The endorphins released in the pit mix with the longing of being apart for the last week, again. The space between Max and Celia fills in a matter of seconds. In their urgency to find each other, they push through the crowd and find some kind of privacy on the side of the stage, under the blanket of darkness. 
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Max knows he’s in trouble. He’s had way too much time alone to think over his situation in the past few weeks. He's threading in unknown territory. It's scary, but it's a change he recognizes he has to make if he hopes to live a 'normal' life. He just never thought this would happen so soon. The walls of protection he put in place when he arrived give him today much anxiety.
In his life, Max has allowed himself to be vulnerable with only three people. One of them died, the other two betrayed him. No wonder he keeps people at arm's length. Relationships are easier when they're conditional: at least you know what will end them. That's what Max believed.
Until now, that is.
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The voices in his head still tend to become quite loud on occasion, but they’ve been much quieter recently. And they’ve been the quietest with Celia around. He's not sure how or when it happened, but Max has slowly uncovered his heart and he can't help himself from getting closer, pulling the barriers down even more each step he takes.
And for once, it feels safe, it feels easy, it feels real and true. It’s a completely different feeling than what he’s used to, one that he craves with his whole being.
And he needs to come clean so there can be a chance for this to last.
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As his hand grazes the skin of Celia’s back, his head spins and, without thinking, he explores her bare midriff. She wiggles out of his reach. For an instant, Max fears he pushed an unknown limit. He shouldn't have done that. Celia grabs his hand and leads him through the crowd, up the stairs and along corridors, until they emerge in the bathroom. Confused, Max lets Celia’s hand go and stops in his tracks. She grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him into the stall.
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To shut off Max’s confusion, Celia pins him against the wall and kisses him. With a tilt of the head, Max pulls Celia’s lips away from his. “What are we doing here?”
“I wanted a little more privacy,” she teases as her hand finds its way to his hip. “Here? In a public bathroom?” It’s not something Max would have questioned before, but something doesn’t feel right. He hears the sting of annoyance in Celia’s tone. “Where else? On your aunt's living room couch? Or on my bed hiding from my parents in the other room? We have nowhere to be alone. I don't want to- I just want to explore a little.”
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She stretches her neck to kiss him and her hand drops towards the front of his pants. Max’s eyebrows lift up in surprise and he stops her hand from going any further.
“Wai-wai-wai-wait! God! I can’t believe I- Ugh! Tomorrow. Meet me by the boathouse, at 8AM. There’s something important I need to tell you and… I might have a better option than this.”
“8?”
“I work at 10.”
“Why not tell me now?”
“I’d rather it be somewhere where we can talk properly.”
With a reluctant sigh, Celia pulls away from Max. “Okay, maybe this isn’t such a great idea anyway. We should go back to the others.” She gets out of the stall. “Are you coming?” 
“In a minute. I’ll join you.”
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Beginning / Previous / Next
Author's note: I wanted to mention the creators of a few resources that I used for both concert posts that really brought the vibe I wanted to life: @madebycoffee and @starrysimsie for all the decosims (and there's a lot on this set!) @keloshe-sims for all the posters on the walls (they made a memory come alive ❤️) See more of this lot here and here.
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 years ago
Text
Princess
John Winchester x daughter!reader
Requested by anonymous
Synopsis: a few one shots of you growing up with John as your father.
Warnings: mentions of blood, honestly it’s 80% fluff
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John was used to fear. He woke up every morning with it, stronger each day it seemed, fear that the fate that had befallen his wife would come to his children. He was used to fear of the dark, and of what was truly hiding in it. He was certainly used to fearing for his life.
But this was a different kind of fear. When the woman that he had gone out with for a while about a year ago knocked on his door, and handed him the smallest baby he’d ever seen, all wrapped up in a pink blanket, John knew a new fear. When that same woman turned on her heel, got in her car, and drove away, that fear turned into panic.
“Hey!” He called out. “You can’t just-“
But the car was gone, and all his shouting had done was startle you awake. The bundle in his hands shifted, and you began to cry.
“Hey, shh,” he rocked you gently from side to side, his attention fully on you. “Don’t cry, princess. It’s going to be ok.”
“Hey princess,” John’s voice was thick with exhaustion as he slumped into the motel room. “Why aren’t you asleep?” He spotted his teenage sons splayed out on the two beds, dead asleep.
“I was,” six-year-old you yawned, tugging on John’s leg. He lifted you into his arms, and you continued. “But I waked up, and I wanted to wait for you.”
“Alright,” John collapsed onto the small couch, cradling your head in one hand as he attempted to lean back comfortably on his makeshift bed. “Well, it’s late, so try to get back to sleep alright?”
“Ok,” you yawned again, tucking your head under his chin while he covered the both of you in his jacket.
You were fast asleep within minutes, and your steady breathing and strong heartbeat comforted John as he closed his eyes, trying to erase the vivid memories of the terror he’d seen that night.
“Good night princess,” John gently kissed the top of your head, before finally falling into a deep sleep.
John had a tendency to react to fear with sternness. If one of his kids messed up on a hunt, it was just time to train that much harder. If a new monster was found, they stayed up all night, all week if they had to, finding out everything about it. Danger meant that he needed to prepare his kids, and to do that, sometimes he needed to shut off “dad” and turn on “drill sergeant”.
But not tonight. Tonight was…
Different.
“Me and Sammy are gonna stop at the bar for a bit, you going back to the motel?” Dean was eyeing you as he spoke to John.
“Yeah, I’m gonna take her home,” John mumbled.
“Give me a call if you need anything,” John could tell that Dean was stalling, wanting to remain with you but also sensing that John wanted time alone with you.
“I will,” John assured him. “She’s gonna be alright.”
John arrived at the motel with you a few awkwardly silent minutes later. He led you inside, a hand at the small of your back, and he could feel you trembling. Without a word, you stepped into the bathroom and turned on the sink water. John watched as you scrubbed at your hands, and you spend a few minutes in a futile attempt to clean the blood off of them.
Your scrubbing became more desperate, and John jumped up in alarm when you began to sob, scratching frantically at your arms and hands.
“Hey hey, stop that!” John took your hands in his.
“It-it won’t come off,” you sobbed, staring down at your blood-stained arms.
John stared down at you, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You looked so small, hunched in on yourself, and so fragile as you cried and rubbed at your arms.
He couldn’t believe he’d thought you were ready for your first hunt. He couldn’t believe he’d taken you out into the world of monsters and demons and expected you to kill them. If Dean had performed that badly on a hunt, John would’ve had him back in basic training in an instant—after severely chewing him out. If Sam had cowered from the werewolf the way you had, John would’ve made him stay up the whole night training, and doubled his shooting practice for the rest of the month.
But right here, right now, looking down at the crying girl in front of him…
He couldn’t. He couldn’t find it in him to scold you, or place a gun in your small hands, or demand that you pick up your machete and practice with it. He couldn’t find it in him to force you to defend yourself, because he never wanted you to have to.
He wanted to defend you. He wanted to protect you from every evil in the world, he didn’t want you to have to protect yourself.
“Commere princess,” John pulled you tightly into his arms, cradling your head like he’d done when you were a baby. “It’s ok. You’re ok.”
“I’m sorry,” you weren’t completely sobbing anymore, but the tears were still flowing, and he felt you take a shaky breath. “I know I screwed it all up.”
“Hey, hey,” John pulled back slightly, brushing your hair from your face and trying not to cringe when he noticed the dried blood plastering it in place. “You shouldn’t have been out there, you weren’t ready.” It was true that you had done abhorrently on the hunt, and John wasn’t going to lie and say otherwise; he hadn’t gone that soft. But he also wasn’t going to blame you, because he blamed himself for this.
“I just, I-I couldn’t remember what to do, and-and I got so scared-“ your breathing was becoming more labored once again, and John took hold of the back of your head, pushing you against him in an attempt to calm you down.
“Shh, princess you’re ok now. You’re safe now, nothing’s gonna happen. I don’t blame you, ok? I don’t. and I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.”
John knew that he was going to have to tighten up on your training if you were going to survive in this crazy world. But for tonight, he was going to turn off his “drill sergeant” and turn on “dad”, because when he saw his little princess almost get killed by a werewolf, he lost all ability to do anything but hold you tight, and shelter you from every danger that he hadn’t been able to shelter the rest of his family from.
“Dad?”
A heavy sigh escaped John’s lips as he set his beer bottle down with a clump.
“You should be in bed.”
“Did he really leave? For good?” One look into John’s despair-filled eyes was all the answer you needed.
“Princess, go to bed.”
You stepped up to where John was sitting, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
“I told you to go to bed,” John ordered, but his voice was soft and noncommittal, and you didn’t miss the way his arms came up to wrap around you in return.
Neither of you knew how long you stayed that way, unwilling to let go. But eventually, Dean came out and found you, and he managed to coerce you into letting go of your father and coming to bed, John following just behind.
The three of you slept fitfully that night, but despite that, there was a tiny comfort in knowing that there was some family that would never leave.
You hadn’t spoken a word in days. Dean knew why, but he was powerless to bring you out of your own head. He didn’t blame you for how you reacted; you out of all of them had seemed the closest to John, in your own way. No one could calm or comfort you like he could, and vice versa.
But John wasn’t around to comfort you anymore.
“You know,” Dean began softly as he sat down next to you on the motel bed. “Dad was the one who named you.” A smile played on Dean’s face as he reminisced. “When your mom dropped you off with him, she didn’t give him a name or anything. For nearly two weeks, dad carried you around with no idea what to call you. He mostly stuck with a nickname, until one day he stepped away from your cart in the store, and you started crying. Then this little old lady comes up and holds you, calms you down, and when dad tries to take you back she gets all suspicious. She didn’t think you were really dad’s, and so she says ‘well if she really is yours, what’s her name?’ And dad just panics, and he sees this name tag on a passing clerk and he just blurts out the name on it. He yells, ‘Y/N!’ And you just played along, looking right up at him with your big eyes and giggling and reaching for him. So the lady gives you back, and Y/N just kinda stuck.”
The room was silent for a long moment, Dean looking down at you while you mulled over his story.
“What was the nickname?” Your whisper surprised Dean.
“What?”
“You said he called me by a nickname for two weeks. What was the nickname?”
At this, a grin spread across Dean’s face.
“He always called you his princess.”
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lou-struck · 7 months ago
Text
The Couple in the Car
Atsumu Miya x reader
Flufftober Day 14- The Couple in the Car
W.C. 1.7k
~ Atsumu thought he would impress you by taking you to the drive-in for a scary movie date… But apparently, the universe had some other plans. 
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The sun is setting, and you are thankful that you are warm inside Atsumu's car. Staring out the window, you squint into the light of the setting sun that just a month ago would still be in the sky.
"What's playing tonight?" you ask as your boyfriend pulls down the little gravel road to the drive-in, his warm car filled to the brim with fuzzy blankets and all your favorite movie snacks. 
"The Hammer, I think," he says, trying to play it cool, but you read your boyfriend like a book. That slight curve in his lips tells you that he is really excited to watch this notoriously scary slasher film with you. 
You pull up and see the headlights of at least a hundred cars parked in the stalls. "Wow, it's busy tonight."
"No kiddin," he comments dejectedly. And you know he feels guilty for picking you up so late this evening. Your heads are on swivels as you drive through the packed lot until an attendant drowning in a large hooded sweatshirt comes up to you holding a flashlight. A thick scarf covers his chin, protecting his face a bit too well from the evening air as he waves you over to a spot at the very back of the theater. 
"Hey man, are there any closer?" Atsumu asks disappointedly. 
"Not tonight; this is the only place I could fit you guys in." He says, not meeting your gaze as he turns and quickly walks off. 
"I'm sorry baby, this is my fault." He frowns, his background playing sports having taught him the importance of being better than on time for everything. "I would've picked ya up earlier, but Samu borrowed my keys and had to work late."
"It's really not that bad, Tsumu," you say, looking at the screen. "We can still see the movie really well from back here." you grab his hand resting on the center console and give it a comforting squeeze. "Plus, we have so much privacy back here. It's almost like we have the place to ourselves."
With that little tidbit, he brightens up and grins, "Yeah, we do," he winks, sliding an arm around your shoulder. "Now I heard this thing is pretty scary, so feel free to hang on to me nice and tight if ya get scared. 
"I'll keep that in mind," you laugh, pressing a teasing kiss to your boyfriend's lips. Just as the movie begins to play.
~
Maybe this movie is a bit too much for the oldest Miya twin. Ever since 'The Hammer' took his first victims, a young couple who chose the wrong night to go up to the small town's lookout point, your boyfriend has had a tight grip on your hand. 
Although he's not in the movie, he flinches at every corner, his mind anxiously awaiting the next jump scare. You are torn between watching the movie or the little show he's putting on for you. 
The Main girl's friend creeps through the winding basement with her flashlight, looking for clues and her impending doom. When suddenly, a rat scurries across her foot.
While the rest of the drive-in hears her scream, you can only hear Atsumu's
"Are you alright, Tsumu?" you ask as he places his hand on his chest and slows his erratic breathing. 
"Y-yeah, i-i'm fine." he lies, slightly, releasing the death grip he has on your hand. "Just spooked a bit, I guess." he looks so ashamed, even more so when he realizes that in his panic, he knocked over his drink, and it is currently spilling onto one of the blankets he packed. 
. "Oh no, that's getting everywhere," you say, opening the glove box hoping to find some napkins but find only an old pack of gum and his car's owner's manual.
"Stay right there, I'll go get some paper towels from the concession stand and wipe this up," you offer, getting up from your seat, but he is quick to stop you.
"What are you doing?" he says with wide eyes, "Stay in the car, haven't ya been watching?"
You are touched by his concern but know that if you don't get this cleaned up, the mess is gonna get worse. "It's fine, but if you're worried. How about you go with me for protection?
He swallows nervously but nods, walking you to the snack counter.  The line snakes around the corner and you feel thankful that your boyfriend planned ahead and brought you all of your favorite snacks. 
"Here they are," you say, taking a handful of paper towels from the condiments counter. Atsumu regards the stand with interest. 
"Do ya need anythin?" he asks. 
"Only you," you grin, grabbing onto his strong arm. 
"Yer cute." he chuckles, feeling much better than before as you start to walk back to your lonely car. You are almost there when he stops in his tracks. 
"What's wrong?" you ask, worried that he has forgotten something, but he only points to the ground. A single long Iron nail has been struck precariously into the dirt, just like what the killer does in the movie and you are hit with a wave of uneasiness. 
That wasn't there before…
"That's weird" you say, putting on a brave face, casually stepping over it. "Is this someone's idea of a joke? Someone could trip over that."
"Spooky," He mutters, his hand resting on your lower back protectively as you resume your walk. 
~
"Are you feeling better?" you ask Atsumu during a dull part of the movie. 
"Yeah, much better," he says, running a hand through his blond hair. "Sorry for freakin out earlier, that wasn't very cool of me."
"You know, I don't love you for just your coolness." you tease watching as his face turns from touched to teasing. 
"Aweeee, you loveeee meeee, don't ya?" he winks, leaning in for a kiss. But just before his chocolate colored eyes shut, he stops, looking beyond your shoulder out the car window.
"Did ya see that? I swear I'm not crazy." his hand trembles as he points to the woods; when you turn around, you are horrified to actually catch a glimpse of something moving through the trees. 
"Maybe it's a deer?" you say, not really believing yourself. 
Deer don't walk on two legs. 
"It's the Hammer Man,"… he whispers. The ridiculousness of it all fills your head with doubt. 
"Tsumu, it's just a movie."
"Based on a true story," he says firmly. "They say they never caught the guy. What if he is here tonight wantin' to take revenge on another hot young couple in their car."
You shudder thinking back to the opening kill of the movie. "It's just a movie," you repeat, this time as if you are trying to convince yourself. Atsumu's imagination is like a tornado, beautiful but dangerous if you get caught up in it."
"There he is again." he cries, and you see it this time, a man in a mask walking through the trees. You track his movements until he disappears behind a wall of green, and you try to figure out where he went."
With all your attention on the tree line you fail to notice a new figure creeping up to the window until they slam their fist on your glass. Someone screams (you) as the man in the mask raises his oddly shaped hammer as if ready to strike. 
"Oh no, ya don't," Atsumu says, leaning over your seat, sideling you with his body. His arm files to the door, and he forces it open quickly, sending your would-be assailant to the ground.
"Ouch, that hurt…" a familiar voice groaned, rubbing their head through the mask.
"Stay away from them~" Atsumu grunts, awkwardly climbing over you and getting on top of the killer. 
"Get off me, you oaf," the voice grunts, and you see recognition flash in your boyfriend's eyes as he carefully peels off the mask to reveal his brother…
"Samu?" he breathes, still sitting on his twin's chest.
"Duh… Now move, I can't breathe." the grey-haired twin says, shoving him off. 
"What are you doing here?" you ask, sliding from your car seat. And when you notice the large bump on your future brother-in-law's head, you almost feel bad.
Almost
He looks almost apologetic as he looks up at you, "Hey, y/n. Uhh sorry about that. We had planned on scarin Tsumu when ya went to the bathroom or somethin, but we got tired of waitin'."
"You bastard," Atsumu says, but you are more focused on his response.
"We?" you ask, hoping for a bit more clarification. 
"Hey hey hey, guess who got pranked?" a loud voice calls from behind the car. Atsumu's teammate, Kotaro Bokuto, leaps out of the darkness, holding a mask identical to the one Osamu had been wearing. He must've been the one running through the trees earlier. 
"I helped too," the attendant from before says, removing his hood and large scarf to reveal Shoyo Hinata.
"You guys were all in on this?" Atsumu asks, looking much better
"Pranked ya,"  Bokuto says, slinging an arm around his friend. "And it was all Samu's idea."
"The owner of the drive-in owed me a favor," Osamu explains with a devilish grin. "So he let me borrow the back row of the theater, and I made sure ya ran late to pick up y/n." He looks so proud of himself for putting this all together that if you weren't still catching your breath, you would applaud him for his creativity.
"You guys are jerks," your boyfriend says, twisting out from under the large spikers' arms to hold on to you. "Are ya okay babe?
You nod, "Just excited, I think; they got us good."
"Thanks for being such a good sport about this y/n," Hinata says, fiddling with his disguise. "You're super cool."
"Thanks," you grin. "So, whose idea was it to put that nail into the ground over there?"
At your question, the three men go silent. Until they ask the scariest question of the evening. 
"What nail?"
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Tagging: @pixelcafe-network
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noturlondonboy · 1 year ago
Text
Nails on the Chalkboard of My Heart
Wenclair Oneshot
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair
Summary: It’s a dark and stormy night… and Wednesday decides to paint Enid’s nails in an effort to help the werewolf calm down. Fluffy confessions and silly gay girl antics ensue.
A/N: I really did love writing this one, I love blorbos painting each other’s nails. They’re so stinking cute. Enjoy!
Warnings: that good ole lesbian make out sesh don’t ya know
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It was storming outside when Wednesday returned back to the dorm to find a shivering Enid tucked away under the covers. The lightning and thunder had been going raucously for about an hour now, and the walls shook from the force of the wind. Wednesday almost smiled at the rain lashing the windows.
Setting her bag on her desk, Wednesday quickly changed into her hoodie and sweats while doing her best to ignore the whimpering coming from the other side of the room. Enid never did well during large thunderstorms. She had told her as such, even explaining that she was used to handling them just fine alone, as none of her family had ever bothered to comfort her. That tidbit has nagged restlessly at Wednesday, but she brushed it off and didn’t press questions.
Now, though, after 30 minutes of sitting silently in front of her typewriter with nothing to show for it, after 30 minutes of Enid crying softly under her thick blankets all alone, after 30 minutes of “my parents had better things to do than trying to get me to stop cowering” ringing through her head in Enid’s gentle diction, something in Wednesday’s chest gave a terrible ache. She ripped the useless paper from the machine in front of her and crumpled it with one hand before tossing it in the trash bin like it had personally offended her.
Thing appeared on her desk, somehow knowing he was about to be summoned. Wednesday nodded, turning to face him. “Enid’s noise canceling headphones broke last week after Xavier’s idiotic little stunt with the lunch trays. Grab my pair from under my bed and take them to her while I clean up,” she ordered quietly, already starting to tidy her desk back to how she liked it.
Morticia and Gomez had gifted them both a set of headphones once they had heard of Enid’s ADHD. They had already been preparing to do so after Wednesday’s official autism diagnosis, but hurried the purchase in order to supply them both before the new school year.
Thing gave a little one-fingered salute and scurried off to do what he was told, jolting at the lightning but giving no protest. The girl sighed and rolled her shoulders. The crick in her neck had grown especially agonizing over the last week, and while she normally enjoyed pain, this was more annoying than anything else.
There was muffled conversation from Enid, but her sounds of distress stopped while she presumably accepted the headphones and put them on. Wednesday closed her eyes, letting out a sigh from her nose. Maybe she could pretend to stall by reorganizing her entire bookshelf for the third time, when in reality all that was happening was a mental preparation for what she was about to do.
A strike of lightning pierced the night and rattled the walls, leaving the dorm room in momentary blackness. Enid lets out a shriek, her tears evident in the warble in her throat. But like a wraith, Wednesday is by her side the moment the lights come back on, unable to stop herself from holding back.
Another yelp from the Werewolf, who jumped and scrambled back on her bed. Wednesday reached forward quickly to cradle the girl’s face and pull her closer, her knees subsequently ending up on the colorful covers.
Enid freezes, tearful eyes wide, the black headphones askew on her head. They both hold their breaths, but Wednesday is the first to move, carefully taking her roommate’s hand to pull her back properly onto her own bed. Enid only obeys, expression dizzy as it darts between the point of contact and the lack of a scowl on the Latina’s face.
Once Enid is resettled, Wednesday busies herself with going through the drawers of her nightstand and desk. Her mind is running unfortunately much quicker than she likes, but her senses sharpen with each whimper from the puppy waiting for her just feet away.
Black and pink nail polish secured in her palm, she sits with her legs crossed in front of Enid and fixes the headphones back into place. The werewolf sat stockstill, only moving to flinch at the thunder.
“I’m going to turn some music on for you, and then I’m going to paint your nails, and we’re not going to talk- understood?” Wednesday says softly, pulling her rarely used phone from her pocket and opening up Spotify. Enid seems only capable of gaping, her wet cheeks glowing pink.
Wednesday presses play on a shared playlist of theirs (which mainly consisted of very limited Kpop, Cigarettes After Sex, Melanie Martinez, and classical cello arrangements) before setting her phone aside and putting her palm out. Enid stared at it for a moment before realizing what she wanted and giving her hand over.
They both jolted once their fingers met, but Wednesday just pulled Enid’s arm closer with a gentle reverence and uncapped one of the polishes to begin painting.
Enid watched her in silent awe, ears blessedly full of something other than the thunderstorm. Wednesday worked in careful precision, stroking one finger at a time to stimulate the claws that hid under the skin so she could coat the polish on. She did it in one full stroke, because she was an Addams and did everything perfectly, her dark eyes almost warm as she waited a moment for the paint to set before moving on to the next.
There was much to be said, of course, about the colors Wednesday had chosen. Pink and black, to symbolize the two of them, in a pattern of every-other.
A crash of thunder hit Nevermore, and Enid jumped at the vibrations as they rattled the wooden boards around them. Wednesday held her hands still, her thumb drawing slow circles into her wrists until she was calm again. When another loud bang had Enid’s claws slipping out involuntarily, the result of which was a red nick in Wednesday’s skin, the goth only pressed a kiss to Enid’s knuckles to steady her (and make her blush like a volcano?? C'mon Enid get it together) instead of lashing out like the werewolf had feared.
A bright flash set the world outside momentarily ablaze. Enid flinched and curled into herself, her hands pulling away from Wednesday to ball together close to her chest. When she came back around with the gentle melody of Apocalypse soothing her sensitive ears, Wednesday was hovering close, hands shaped like she would be cupping Enid’s cheeks if she just moved forward about two inches.
Enid watched her, blinking the tears away as her heart settled, and gave herself no time to think. She leaned forward and nestled her jaw into Wednesday Addams’ palms, the wonderful touch of skin on skin melting the fear away. Dark eyes bore into baby blues, and Wednesday idly wondered what her parents would say if they saw her like this, calm and warm and making a willing effort to provide comfort to someone such as Enid.
“You’re alright,” she whispered, even as she very well knew that Enid couldn’t hear her- though the girl’s eyes darted down to read her lips. “It can’t hurt you. Not while I’m here.”
And Enid watches as she always had, cheeks warm and marveling silently as Wednesday retracted, carefully cleaning any smudged polish before reapplying the color where it was needed. Once Enid’s nails were successfully painted, Wednesday held her fingers gingerly to blow on them until they were dry. Her breath was warm, and soothed the ache in her knuckles.
The two stared at each other, Enid taking the headphones off and setting them aside. The storm had thankfully dimmed to a drizzle. The pitter patter of the raindrops was soothing and much preferred over heavy thunder and lightning.
Wednesday felt her stomach roiling at the entire interaction. Who was she, Wednesday Addams, to be painting the nails of this strange girl? Who was she to calm and to help, when all her life, she had only been a dark thing of madness? Who was she… to Enid?
Wednesday was so caught up in her head that it took her a long moment to realize that Enid’s face had melted into a mask of awed serenity, and the expression was held only for Wednesday. The werewolf watched her so intensely that Wednesday could feel the cool water of her eyes, imagining what her fingers would do if pushed through impossibly soft golden hair.
“Thank you,” Enid suddenly breathed, her heart in her throat. Something was clawing away at her lungs, stealing her breath. Her very bones seemed to ring. “Thank you,” she said again, aching and aching for Wednesday to stay, to keep touching her, to touch her more.
Somehow, Wednesday saw that want, saw right through her as she always did and always would. She cleared her throat, her mouth suddenly very, very dry, the words burning on her tongue.
“Anything you wish of me, Enid, I will do. And if it is not what you desire, then I will leave you in peace, away from my darkness and pain that trails me as if a shadow forever imprinted. But you- I can’t…” She swallowed thickly. Enid’s eyes were wide, a blush rising on her freckled cheeks. Wednesday desperately wanted to touch them. “I believe that I have fallen victim to the Addams Family curse, to love fiercely and everlastingly. I can feel it swelling within me, a heart I didn’t know I had.”
Wednesday didn’t really know what she was doing, why she was saying this. But the words had started and her chest had screamed so desperately for what it truly wanted, what it had been waiting for all this time.
“I think… that you have entranced me, utterly entranced me in every way any wicked woman could think of.” Another swallow, tightening the hold their fingers had on each other. Enid’s face was a furnace, her lips parted and heart beating furiously.
How did she respond to this? How did she explain to Wednesday that she had discovered that her darker counterpart and undying crush was her mate only weeks ago, a revelation that had sent her into a tizzy so bad she had been bedridden for hours? She wasn’t sure she even remembered how to speak.
Wednesday’s pupils were blown wide, her eyes large and dark and swallowing Enid whole. She wanted to be laid to rest in those eyes. But Wednesday heard no response, and her mind faltered. She had been so sure in that moment that her wolf would return the affection, would recognize the confession for what it was. The plea in her voice, the promise to do and be anything Enid asked.
“If you- if you do not feel the same way, Enid, I would understand, and I would not blame you. Turn me away and I would trek to the edges of the Earth if that is where you want me. But if you wish for me to stay… I am devoted to you, to your happiness, your pleasure, your mind and soul. I am caught in your beastly claws and yours to do with what you will.” And she waited, her ribs throbbing as her heart pumped blood harshly through her. Wednesday Addams laid herself out for the first time in her miserable life, completely true and bare for someone else.
How had painting nails turned into this? What could have possibly possessed her today?
Enid, in turn, was still doing her best to wrap her poor little gay head around Wednesday’s words. This was too good to be true, it- it couldn’t possibly be real. And normally if she were called beastly by anyone else, she would claw their face off. But with Wednesday calling her that… Shit. It honest to gods turned her on.
She opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it again with absolutely no idea what to say. But… did she even really need words? Wednesday was stating this verbally because she knew it was the best way to get through to Enid. The darker girl had always shown her true feelings through actions, but to get through her thick werewolf skull, the words were easiest.
Enid thought she should return the favor. Tell Wednesday that she felt the same, show her she felt the same. That she would push herself to every possible limit for Wednesday, would do anything she ever asked, would rip her own heart out if it meant her mate would give her a rare smile.
And to show her, Enid knew there was only one option. They were in too deep- far too deep, to settle for anything less than razor sharp exactness.
Wednesday watched her with wide eyes, cheeks dark and lips parted almost grimly. There was no more room for waiting. Enid set aside the nail polish bottles, crawled forward to gently nudge her way between Wednesday's knees, and kissed her without a moment to waste.
Wednesday gasped and jolted away as her heart shrieked, lips burning furiously. She stared; Enid stared back. The werewolf looked ready to fling herself off of their balcony. But Wednesday fisted the soft blonde hair at the back of her head and pulled her forward with no small amount of desperation, reconnecting their mouths before she could let herself think.
There was another gasp, then a sigh, followed by a moan as Enid pushed into her closer until Wednesday was pressed on her back, braids messy and thrown over the bed. The wolf’s weight on her smaller body was warm and alluring, fading into the back of her mind as soft lips devoured her whole.
Gods, Wednesday had never seen so much color. It burst into fireworks over her eyelids as Enid kissed her and kissed her, a silver tongue dipping hotly into her mouth to flick over her canines and taste the cruel words Wednesday Addams preferred to so generously wield.
Enid’s heart burst in her chest as the girl beneath her responded ever so eagerly to her lips, tangling their legs together and using her cold, delicate hands to cup the werewolf’s cheeks and pull her closer, always closer, her perfect nails scratching softly at her skin just below the Hyde scars. A purr built up and tumbled out of her throat, startling Wednesday so much that she broke away, cheeks deliciously flushed and chest working hard to keep breathing.
Enid stopped too, unable to squash the mortified look on her face as the purr persisted, rumbling softly in the back of her throat. She knew if her wolf had its way, a golden tail would be wagging furiously. She would’ve died from embarrassment alone.
Wednesday’s mouth had gone slack, her obsidian eyes wide and a bit glazed as she stared so intently at Enid she might as well have been stripping her right then and there.
“I didn’t know that you could- that you would… make that noise,” she muttered, one hand moving to settle on Enid’s waist while the other stayed where it rested on her scarred cheek. Her fingertips were cold, yet left a blazing trail as they flittered like dark little mourning doves over fairer skin.
“Werewolves only purr for their mate,” Wednesday said slowly, cautiously, doing her damn best to gauge the expressions flashing over Enid’s face so quickly she could barely decipher half of them. Most depicted a horrified desire to forget the balcony and just head straight for a window. “Only- their mate.”
Enid could only stare at Wednesday, at her inky hair and adorable bangs, the freckles smattered over dark skin that was normally as pale as death but now shone red, the depthless eyes that threatened to drown her every morning when she awoke. Mate. Her mate, watching her closely as one would a spooked animal.
What was there to say? Wednesday stated the fact, because Enid truly had purred, was still purring, even as she scrambled for the words to save her sorry ass from the rejection of an Addams daughter. She was still hovering over said Addams, such a welcome shadow on her colorful bedspread.
“Am I your mate, Enid Sinclair?” Wednesday whispered, her lips barely moving as she used her hand to tug the blonde fully on top of her by her waist, the purr halted for only a second by a nervous whine. Her eyelashes fluttered, and a smirk- no, a grin- tipped the corners of her mouth up until perfect teeth almost showed through those taunting lips.
Taunting lips that Enid wanted to kiss again very, very much.
Wednesday repeated her question, her words almost slurred as she breathed them. There was something on her face, in the lines of her cheekbones and the dip of her chin, the curve of her jaw, that spoke of something dangerous. Insatiable. Enid couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
But as soon as she came up with it -hunger- she let out a low whimper and somehow pressed impossibly closer until her warmth was Wednesday's warmth, until her breath was Wednesday’s breath. “Yes,” she whispered, begged, might as well have screamed for what that one word did.
Wednesday Addams surged up to capture the wolf’s lips in her own and throw her off balance in order to straddle her waist, the words melting into their mouths.
Words they never really needed to say.
Not that Enid would even know how to speak in the first place, after Wednesday had her way with her.
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