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#its clear she put a lot of thought into it and used everything she picked up and observed to her advantage
xxswagcorexx · 10 months
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ok maybe this is just me but like, i Feel like people. underhighlight how a Lot of pvpers are just really really good strategists
(more rambling about this under the cut) but like. speaking from someone who's familiar with lifesteal and ivorycello's content, someone like clown isn't just someone who's 1) very skilled at the game, but he's also very good at picking up exactly what he lacks in and how to make up his skills effectively And efficiently
an example would be how clown grinded for 64 god apples because he knew how much the lifesteal server has improved at pvp in general (fun fact on his testrun ep he talks about how everyone has massively improved) (and on top of that him touching grass and not practicing /lh) but, since he knows he cannot rely on pure skill alone (and can't train that much in time) he makes up for those disadvantages by grinding materials to ensure he'll be able to get by, even if it's just barely (he also! observes other people's moves too! ex: during a s3 fight vi and some other people were chasing him down and were supply chaining until they finally wore clown down enough to kill him--and clown was a really good sport about it! and started talking to them about the supply chain strategy and complimented how it worked so well!!! he's good at analyzing stuff, with the whole thing about being able to reconize the other lifestealers have gotten so good that they'd probably kick his ass back in s2 now! the fact hes able to anaylize his own and others pvp is...really cool i think)
and ivory falls under this category as well, you can most clearly see it on her doly 1v1 video, but she's able to figure out exactly what aspects doly uses to his advantage (even to figuring out his ping and how they affect his pcrits) and from that she's able to figure out how to turn those exact methods on top of their heads and build up her own strategies to directly combat what doly was, probably, doing subconsciously. holy hell that's such a cool concept??? like ivory herself admits in her own video that she is a relatively new pvper and the fact she was able to synthesize that much information into a strategy that beat out someone who has so much more experince than her? that's so fucking badass
maybe this is just me not looking in the right places but. i Really do think people like clown's and ivory's skills as strategists should be highlighted more. like, i feel like it humanzies them a lot more. makes them feel like people that just so happen to be very skilled instead of undefeatable figureheads who are powerful beyond comprehension. even though that's their reputation, they're still just people at the end of the day and i think that's an interesting dichotomy to explore <3
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livingemkayde · 8 months
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en route
joel miller x f!reader (post outbreak) | 3.5k
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↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f!recieving, light choking, dom!joel, a mild enemies to lovers mixed with sunshine!reader and grumpy!joel miller. no use of y/n. let me know if i forgot anything.
↳ a /n: hey guys...heres a little one shot in a followers/blog milestone celebratory fashion (!!!!!!!). this sort of turned into a one shot from the scrapped ideas regarding my new series. its also helping me gear up for taking on the task of beginning to write a new dynamic (i am definitely putting off completing chaser because i have an emotional attachment to that story BUT itll be out sometime this week). i love you all so, so, so much. you have no idea. thank you for everything (can you tell i live for a flashback fic).
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
“You’re—” he quirks his brow at your attempts, “you’re an asshole, Joel,” you finalize.  He takes a step toward you. You take a step back.  “You’re rude. And inconsiderate—” he smirks, it makes you more mad, “—and snarky and a jerk for no reason.” Your back hits the hallway’s wall. He takes another experimental step towards you.  “Okay. Yeah, keep going,” Joel breathes out, encourages, like you're amusing. “What else am I?”
You can’t stand him. 
You really can’t stand him. Hate is a strong word. Maybe not one you use often. But the disdain you feel for Joel Miller hinges to the breaking point each time you run into him. 
What a fucking asshole — you finally willed yourself to believe after weeks of kindness. It was practically seeping from your skin but it seemed to brush off his worn leather winter coat onto the fresh powder. It died there, and so did your hopeless attempts. 
“Hi,” you breathed out, that first fateful time. It was a surprisingly clear winter night. He had just moved in. The women were fawning over him, ogling, jaws dropping in the town square. You just observed and tried to keep your face neutral. As neutral as you can be. 
But Joel stood in front of you and just grunted in response. 
It made you try harder. 
“I brought these — made these for you,” you said, extending a pack of sandwiches for him and the girl you happened to see by his side. You figured she was with him. You traded a hell of a lot to get the meat for the sandwiches. But kindness and new neighbors seemed to fare well. At least in your very limited experience. 
“What is this?” he questioned. He didn’t take them from your hands. His fingers—big and rough and calloused, picked at the skin of its own. He didn’t take a step outside the threshold. You were suddenly unwelcome. You felt the weight of the sandwiches grow tiresome in your outstretched arm. 
“Sandwiches. Thought I’d say hello since you’re new around here,” you smiled, sort of shaking the pack, here — fucking — just take them, jesus. 
But he didn’t, and your arm grew tired, and so did your smile. 
“‘M good, thanks,” he mumbled in response, and shut the door in your face. 
And yes, of course he was handsome. He was — rugged — and you can see the wired muscles stretch the cotton of his shirt on patrol sometimes. In those especially unfortunate circumstances where Tommy has the nerve to pair you two up together. 
Handsome, yes. With a hulking bounding step over snow, and menacing shadow when he towers over you. A southern drawl—something so pitch-deep and honey-like, something you’ve never heard before. Not until you met him. And you were nursing a stupid hopeless crush over a guy you hate, but not really. And that drove you insane. 
Because he was fucking, rude, yes. Definitely. 
But you lost it. That last time you saw him. Because what’s worse was he wasn’t even being Joel Miller, his usually brooding self. He was being — nice? Kind? Funny? Maybe. You weren’t sure. You couldn’t hear much over the piercing ringing in your ears. 
“You like this route, Joel?” you said, peering over your shoulder at him on horseback. 
You tried to keep it up, the kindness, the fucking — benefit of the doubt bullshit. You really did. He seemed keen on it sometimes more often than not. 
“‘S fine,” he replied back in a rumpled, annoyed way. 
“You gotta see my favorite part,” you say, almost to yourself, almost forgetting about his dark drawl, only thinking about the meadow half a mile from the checkpoint. 
 He just snorted at that. You just tried to keep a happy face on. 
The songbirds twinkled around in the surrounding trees. The winter snow was receding, making the small dribble of water a full stream. You followed it, straying slightly from the beaten path, earning a couple protesting growls from Joel, but you ignored his pleas, and surprisingly, he just followed you. 
You got off your horse. Joel followed suit. You trudged across a little bend of water. He let out a scoff sounding more like a complaint each time he let one echo in the silence of the forest. 
“C’mon,” you said, smiling, that time, a real smile. Maybe this would make him smile too. 
You reached the crest of the small hill, hiked up your sleeves over your elbows, and bent down to touch the soft petals of the flowers beneath you. 
“Look,” you said, sending him a sideways glance behind you. He was still clamoring to the top of the hill. 
“Yeah, alright,” he groveled. You ignored him. 
Joel joined you at your side, his chest puffing slightly out of your skewed peripheral vision. 
“‘S beautiful, isn’t it?” you said to no one in particular. He didn’t respond. You didn’t expect him to. 
You bend down, picking a strewn orange flower blossom from the floor. Something broken off with the wind. 
“This what you do all day? Pick flowers?” he mumbled.
“Maybe,” you grinned, maybe you were finally getting him to crack, too. “And what do you do all day?”
“Not this,” he said, shaking his head. 
“Really?” you said, “Enlighten me. What does Joel Miller do everyday?”
“Joel Miller minds his business,” he replied, snarky, but he smirked. 
It made you a little scared, you remember. Maybe you were under some sort of falsehood that made hating Joel Miller easy. So when he actually talks to you, teases, follows you through the meadow, it seems a little intimidating suddenly. 
It’s different. 
It’s fucking weird. 
“Which one’s your — favorite,” he whispered, gesturing out to the field in a vague sort of motion with open palms. 
“Lilies,” you replied, tense. You pointed down at a brighter purple lily plant to your right. Joel’s eyes followed your hand. 
You wouldn’t dare look at him, but you could feel him moving beside you. He was in front of you suddenly, his indomitable presence made you turn your head and look up at him through the sunlight. 
He lifted his hand, in line with your ear. Your head backed away from it instinctually, but you kept a keen gaze on his eyes. 
Your brows knit together. So did his. Your mouth parted, almost speaking into the soft mountain air. But he moved his hand again, closer to your face. And you saw a flash of something orange. Like the little flower you picked up. He brushed those big calloused fingertips on your cheek, and slipped the orange flower between hair atop your ear. 
You were so confused, you didn’t know what to say. But it was bad. He was risky. You tried not to think of the fact that maybe, if he wasn’t so fucking rude, and you didn’t hate him so much, maybe that small little schoolgirl crush would blossom into something bigger. 
Because that’s all it was. A small, fucking stupid crush. He teases you. Pulls at your hair. Shoves you off the monkeybars. You put on a kind face anyways. 
And you hate him for that. Decidedly. 
“We should go,” you whispered. He dropped his hand. You both rode back in silence. 
That put you in a horrible mood for the rest of the day. And when you went to sleep and woke up this morning still in a horrible mood, you know exactly why. 
Joel Miller doesn’t get to do this. He can’t make you hate him and then pull the rug out from underneath you. Especially not with something as low as putting a fucking flower behind your ear.
You show up at the patrol meeting in an equally sour mood. 
And maybe, yeah, you are being irrational. But at this moment you couldn't care less.
You find the assignment board for next week and see your name card slotted under Joels.
“Perfect,” you huff, already moving quickly out of the building, saving your usual chit chatting for another time. Maybe when you’re less pissed off. 
“Hey,” a voice calls after you and you know. You could pick that voice out of a hundred recordings. It pulls you back, and you fight hard to keep moving forward. You’re close to your house already so you continue walking. 
He calls your name this time. 
You don’t falter in your huffing steps. 
“Stop,” he says, grabbing at your arm, pulling you around towards him. When he sees your face, he hesitates. Though the air seems a little humid and sticky, you wrap your arms around yourself. A shield. 
“What, Joel?” 
“You—left,” he breathes out, looking down to your body slightly. It’s unnerving, him making you squirm. 
“Yes. I’m leaving,” you roll your eyes, turning around again, but he locks hard onto your arm and pulls you back to him. 
“What’s—” you shake out of his grip, “what’re you doin’?”
“I’m going home,” you say, and then under your breath, “Obviously.”
“What’d you say?” He's a bit defensive now, maybe falling back into old habits. Back when things were so perfectly hostile between you two. 
“I’m going home, Joel,” you say, annoyed. “Is that okay with you?”
He doesn’t say anything. His mouth parts in confusion. You start walking again, this time, he lets you, falling in time with your steps next to you. 
“Are you alright?” he says, almost worried now. Your footsteps fall faster as you see your mailbox sneak into view.
“I thought Joel Miller minded his business,” you grumble under your breath. But loud enough for him to hear. You know it. You reach your porch, stepping onto it. The morning dew springs to life from the vibrations of your rough boot. 
“So you’re gonna throw a tantrum?” he growls, following you up, reaching the first step, you, on the top one. 
“Real mature,” you say, turning around, hands on hips. 
“Right,” he nods and looks down to his feet, “Ignoring people is mature?” 
“‘M not!” you say, looking down at him, throwing your hands out at your sides, “You’re right here talking to me!”
“Yeah ‘n I had to chase you down the fuckin’ street,” he extends one arm towards the road. 
“No one asked you to,” you bite, the venom sneaking past your lips. 
He doesn’t even flinch. 
“You wanna play that?” he mumbles. An empty threat at best. You hope. 
“No,” you say. Tears are already in your eyes. “No, I don’t wanna — fucking — do this anymore, Joel,” you whisper while unlocking the door and walking inside. It doesn’t shut behind you, not all the way. And you hear his boots follow you in. 
“The hell is your problem?” his voice echoes. He follows you in your house, to the skinny hallway which leads to your room. 
You spin around, pushing at his chest with a pointed finger. 
“You are my fucking problem,” you affirm. 
You crane your neck to look up at him. His hair is pushed back, like he just got out of the shower before attending the patrol meeting. His chest puffs in time with your rapid heartbeat. 
He doesn’t leave. He doesn’t say anything. 
“You’re—” he quirks his brow at your attempts, “you’re an asshole, Joel,” you finalize. 
He takes a step toward you. You take a step back. 
“You’re rude. And inconsiderate—” he smirks, it makes you more mad, “—and snarky and a jerk for no reason.”
Your back hits the hallway’s wall. He takes another experimental step towards you. 
“Okay. Yeah, keep going,” Joel breathes out, encourages, like you're amusing. “What else am I?”
“You’re —” your breath accidentally catches in your throat. He places his palm on the cold wall next to your head, leaning down closer to you. He’s fucking intoxicating. You’re drunk off his lowbrow and the curls that form at the base of his neck. What you wouldn't give to run your fingers through them right now—
“C’mon,” he chastises. His mouth is so close to yours, you keep switching between his eyes and his lips. 
“You’re an asshole,” you mumble. 
“Yeah?” you nod. “You already said that, baby.” 
Baby.
“Don’t stop,” his lips get closer to yours, “What else?” 
“You’re…” you look at his lips. He gets so close that his chest brushes up against yours. “You’re mean…and you’re arrogant.” 
You find it in you to put your open palms gently on his chest. You don’t find it in you to push him back. It’s not like you want to push him back though, not when all you need is to bring him closer. His breath punches gently on top of your nose. 
“Can I tell you what I think?” he grumbles, you shudder. He snakes his head down to whisper in your ear. His beard brushes the delicate skin on your neck. 
“I think,” his lips brush over the spot right under your ear. You breathe so hard you might get light headed. “You’re a pain in my ass,” the hand on the wall catches on your waist. You squirm against his body.
“With your distractions, and your sandwiches, and your little flowers,” he’s so close, he’s almost kissing you. He slots his thigh between yours. 
“Shut up,” you say, because that’s all you can say right now. The dark hallway encases him in the shadows. Even when he picks his head back up and looks into your eyes. 
“Careful,” he warns. 
You stay there, silence filling the air. Your shoulder blades dig into the wall there. 
“You need to learn some manners,” he mumbles, shaking his head, looking down at your lips. 
“I have manners,” you breathe, admittedly a little shaky, “just not for — fucking —”
“Not for what?” He smirks. 
“Not for you,” you push against his chest again. He doesn’t flinch. 
“Yeah?” something in his tone makes you fight harder, “You gonna be a bad girl?” 
“Shut up,” you say, because you don’t trust yourself. You brace yourself against the wall in a desperate attempt not to whine. He’s making you slip. You silently chastise yourself. What happened to ‘Joel Miller doesn’t get to do this’?
You suppose all rational thought flies out the window when his roughed hands land on you. 
“You can be a bad girl,” he said, pushing his fingers under your shirt. They’re surprisingly warm. You fight the urge to groan. Your eyes flicker down to your bodies touching and drag them back to his eyes. “I’ll teach you how to be a good girl, too.”
“Fuck,” you whisper, half under your breath. Joel’s eyes dance with yours, flickering from your lips to your left eye, to your right. Your nose, your eyebrows. Then back down to your parted mouth. You’re fighting a losing battle, you both are. You had no chance of winning it. Not even in the slightest, not at all. And you both know it. 
So, fuck. 
You kiss him. You learn forward, as much as the space between you will allow, and kiss him. He smells like pinewood, and fresh soap, and something smokey. He almost tastes sweet. His fingers splay across your waist. You feel the tips of them dig in there. You fight the urge to groan when you shift on top of his thigh slotted between your legs. 
He hauls you into your bedroom, you sink down on the bed. He takes off his flannel. He’s slow, in his movements, almost like he’s teasing you.
Punishing you. 
“Joel,” you say. You hate how you sound so whiny, so desperate. But after all, maybe you are desperate for him. 
“Sit back,” is all he says, in that honeyed drawl. 
You do. 
Joel stands in front of your slightly open legs, playing with the hem of your shirt in his fingers. 
Contemplating. 
“You gonna be a good girl?” he mumbles, his eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t look at you, just raises your shirt up slightly. 
And you know what? You don’t have an explanation for it. But you just say it—
“Yes,” while looking up at him. The salt and pepper on his patchy beard. His hardened brow and quirked lip. His fingers drift from the hem of your shirt up, up, up. Until his thumb grazes your nipple and you moan at the feeling. 
“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, his thumb playing at your chin, your bottom lip. Your hands dig into the comforter at his words. Your bottom jaw slowly falls under the weight of his singular thumb. 
He pushes in, tugging your mouth open. You suck his finger obediently. 
“‘S good—baby,” he whispers so low under his breath you aren’t sure if you heard him correctly. 
You look up at him through your lashes, he pushes you back with his hand in your mouth until you’re laying flat on the bed. 
“Take off your clothes,” he says, pulling back his hand. While he shucks off his shirt, you undress frantically. 
You snap your legs shut when your panties are finally off. The cold air bites at your ankles. 
He nudges them apart until he’s slotted in between your open thighs. Your cunt stares back at him, glistening. 
He runs his hands along your frame, kneading at the skin on your thighs. His fingers, big and rough and calloused—but it feels fucking good. 
“Fuck—” you puff out, reaching for him, “I—”
He puts his finger up to his lips. Quiet. He says. 
You listen. 
“Just let me—” he says, drifting off when his fingers brush over your cunt. “Jesus—baby,” he mumbles, running his thumb through your slick. You moan and whine against his hand. 
“Joel,” you say again. Pleading. 
“I know,” he is all he says before twisting his hand and slipping a thick finger into your cunt. You gasp, grabbing at his shoulders and at the cotton beneath you. His free hand comes up near your neck, resting there. Not really doing anything.  
“You’re loud,” he points out, pumping out, adding a second because you’re so wet. You moan, gasp, whimper.
“’N you never fuckin’ listen.” he mumbles, looking at his fingers pumping out of you. 
“I do—” 
He shuts you up with a strong hand wrapping around your neck. Not enough pressure to really do anything, but enough pressure to cut your words short halfway garbled into an excuse. 
“Is that what you needed?” he groans, straining against his boxers, rutting up against your thigh. “Needed someone to tell you what to do?” 
You’re close. You moan. He thumbs at your clit. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering into his ear. His hand finds yours, pinning it back to the gray cotton there. 
“You needed me, baby?” he drawls.
Just when you’re about to come, he stops. Your eyes widen, he’s breathing heavily, his fingers are statues deep inside you. 
“Joel—just, fucking—” you whine. He starts pulling his fingers out, receding away from you. “No—fuck, please, I—please,” you reach for him. 
He looks at you. You whimper. 
“I—fuck—I needed you,” you whisper. And you think to yourself that it’s true. “I need—you.”
His face goes soft. 
“Okay,” Joel breathes, pulling out, but reaching down to take himself out of his boxers. Your legs part silently. “Fuck, angel. Okay.” 
He guides himself through your folds, you squirm underneath him. He mumbles something into your ear but you can’t focus on anything besides he dull stretch when he pushes past your walls. He’s stretching you out already, just the tip. But the pain feels surprisingly good. 
“God, Joel,” you whine. He goes slow. Excruciatingly slow. 
“You—” he eases into you. He groans against your hair. “You’re — fuck.”
“Shit,” you curse out, he slips into you all the way, until his hips are flush with you. “Shit—you feel f-fucking good.”
He stays like that for a bit, letting you mold around him. He pants into your ear. You scratch designs into his back. Memorabilia for when he returns back to his house and gets a good look in the mirror. You grasp at the curls at the nape of his neck. They’re soft. Just like you thought they might’ve been. 
He pulls out—almost all the way. And then thrusts back in. You both gasp into each other’s mouths. 
“Goddamn — tight, fuck,” he says, finding a pace that elicites the most unintelligible moans from you and sets it. He’s rough—but not too rough. And he’s hitting that spot that inches you further to a pulling blinding light. 
“Good, fucking girl—” he moans, he holds himself up above you with a strong hand next to your head. “You’re doin’ so—fuck—so good, pretty girl.”
Maybe it’s the pretty girl. Or his praise, or his cock punching deep inside you, so deep that you can feel him in your fucking stomach, but you get closer. Tighter around him. He can feel it too. 
“Joel—gonna—ngh—” you whimper. He hikes your leg over his hip, hitting something deeper. 
“C’mon, angel,” he groans, “lemme — ah — lemme f-feel you.” 
He drags it out of you, your muscles pull taut and your vision pulls white and he keeps going through it all. You moan, whimper, maybe even yell. But he keeps up his relentless pace. You dig your fingers in his back, marking him with little crescents to go with all the rest of them. 
“Fuck—fuck,” he pants, his hips stuttering while you clench around him. 
He thrusts into you, one, two, three more times, your aftershocks sending towards his release. 
He lets out a broken groan spilling into you, rocking his hips with each pulse of his cock. “Shit,” he says, gripping your waist, “You — jesus, fuck.”
Joel collapses down next to you. He cleans you up, too. You both drift off to sleep. He kisses your forehead in between a floating, dreamless slumber. 
Somewhere between then and dinner he leaves, mumbling in your ear. You’re too tired to wake up and walk him to the door. And when you wake up, and make your way downstairs you spot it, sitting pretty on your front porch through the glass. 
A little makeshift bouquet, with fraying string wrapped around two stems.
Lilies.
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moonhoures · 7 months
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That’s My Girl
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🕷️ kinktober — day 18: mommy kink 🕸️
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pairing: jihyo (twice) +reader (afab/fem.)
genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, wlw relationship, mommy kink, scissoring
word count: ~970
synopsis: your wife helps you relax after you had a bad day at work
posted: october 18, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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Shitty days at work were unfortunately common for you. The insurance company you worked for was understaffed, and the few staff members you had weren’t exactly the brightest. As the department head, you had a lot of decisions to make, lots of responsibility. You often went home with weighted shoulders and headaches that even the strongest dose of medicine couldn’t seem to get rid of. Sometimes you wouldn’t get home until it was dark out, pulling overtime.
It was a Thursday night, and you had (once again) come home hours late. Your wonderful wife had already ate the dinner she prepared and saved your share in the refrigerator after you had sent her a text saying you wouldn’t be home in time to enjoy it. You trudged through the house, feeling absolutely drained. Your bedroom door opened to reveal the soft, golden glow of your wife’s bedside lamp. She sat on her side of the bed, already bathed and dressed down in her pajamas. When she heard the door, her head tilted up and she greeted you with a smile that made the weight on your back feel a little lighter.
“Hi, love. How was work?” Jihyo asked you, sitting up straighter.
“Terrible as always, but I’m home now,” you shrugged with a smile, already peeling off your coat. You let it drop to the floor carelessly while your wife’s smile faltered. She turned the TV volume down, wanting to focus on her conversation with you. She listened to you go on and on about work and how annoying it was. How much stress you were under every day, and how you were tired of it all. Her eyes followed you as you went to the bathroom, and she watched you pull your hair down from the clip you held it in all day. You cleaned off your face and rubbed in your favorite moisturizer. You stripped down to your undergarments and walked around the room, still venting about work as you picked out what pajama set you would wear after your bath.
And as you paused to gather your thoughts, you stopped at the side of your bed to put your phone on its charger. Jihyo smiled gently at you, admiring how cute you looked when you were mad. The crease forming between your brows and the subtle pout to your lips was adorable.
“I’m sorry, honey. Remember, the holidays are coming up. And after you get your bonus, you can look for a new job!” Your wife was always one to see the positives in everything. The one to remind you that the grass is greener on the other side of any tough situation you faced. You were beyond grateful for her.
“I know, love. It’s just- I have to get through the now before the holidays,” you laughed softly, shaking your head as you sighed heavily. When you met your wife’s eyes again, there was a new expression in them.
“Maybe we can take your mind off of work for a little while?”
The question was innocent, but the events that took place after were not so innocent. Jihyo had mastered the art of being a wonderful wife, and one of the things she was best at was caring for you—in every sense of the word. She knew how to make you feel better in any way she could. And right now, she decided love making was the best way to clear your mind.
So she laid you down on the bed, parting your legs for herself to slot between them. And once her pelvis was seated over yours, she began rocking her hips. Your folds grew slick under her own, the skin rubbing against each other.
“How does that feel, baby? Is it just what you needed?” she asked you, using her free hand to push her hair out of her face as she looked down at you. Your eyes were shut so you could focus on the pleasurable high you were chasing, but you nodded.
“Uh huh,” you choked out, hands gripping desperately at her thigh. She smiled at your eagerness, hurrying her pace as she started to feel her own release building up. She loved scissoring with you, and she especially loved being on top. Though there were no specific roles in your relationship, she did secretly enjoy being the “leader”. She liked having someone to rely on her. She liked being the one to make decisions. She liked taking the weight off your shoulders and helping you whenever and however she could. It made her feel powerful and needed.
“Are you gonna let go and cum for mommy?” she asked you, grinding her weeping cunt against yours. She groaned as your clits touched over and over, sending electricity throughout your bodies.
“Yes. Yes. Yes, oh-,” your words were cut off as you were overwhelmed with pleasure. Jihyo’s pussy slid against yours, sending you reeling as she stared down at you with the most wicked glint in her eye. Like she knew she was doing everything right, and she loved watching you snap.
Your hands reached up, pawing at her voluptuous breasts until she mercifully leaned down to kiss your neck. This gave you easier access to knead and play with her boobs, your palms squishing her sensitive nipples. The little moans and whines she let out by your ear only made you wetter, and she could feel it. She was doing it on purpose.
“That’s my girl,” she cooed, kissing your jaw, “Cumming for mommy when you’re told. So proud of you.”
You smiled into the kiss she graced your lips with, melting underneath her. Every ounce of worry and any stressful thought in your mind was gone. She knew her job was done, and successfully so.
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world
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lushafterglow · 1 month
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Bite Me
Chapter One -> who is she?
Paring: streamer Sukuna x influencer F!reader
Summary: A little Q&A video — sponsored by an AD company you did an Ad campaign with — blew up over night. Fans shipping you with your newly revealed crush, who so far appears as if he don’t even know you exist. Sukuna’s reaction to seeing your AD, did not help the shipping.
Masterlist
Warnings: cursing, dirty jokes, 5 year age gap
Taglist: (to be added just ask)
Series Masterlist
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You placed your camera and made sure all the lighting was good before clicking record on your go-pro.
Today you were talking about your new brand deal, and doing a little Q&A video that your fans had been requesting for, for quite some time.
You cleared your throat before you started talking, “hello it’s me, how are you guys today?”
You asked the camera knowing you won’t get a response back so you continued on. “Today we’ll be talking about my new brand deal and then doing a Q&A at the end of the video.”
You looked to your desk and grabbed your new make-up brand deal. “I have partnered up with Elf , and we made something so exciting. Well exciting for me and I hope for you.”
You showed the camera an eye shadow palette, eyeliner, and brushes.
“We have created an 18 color eyeshadow pallet, that has four highlighters inside.” You placed everything down and opened the pallet and grabbed your camera.
You showed the camera what the pallet looked like up close before putting the camera back onto its stand. “So 14 eyeshadow colors, and 4 highlighters. Let’s go over each highlighter first.”
You took your finger and picked up some product before swashing it onto your forearm.
“This fist one is call pink dahlia. It’s more of a nice light baby pink shade. As you can see lots of shimmer so that’s nice.”
You picked up the next highlighter and repeated. “Now this next one is kind of a chrome looking highlighter, and it’s called melody. Don’t ask why I choose these names.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the name as you spoke it. You like the name and thought it’s was pretty, your just now realizing you’ve already give two of four highlights a human name.
“The next one is one I’m really excited about, it’s a blueish purple highlighter! So if you look from one angle you can see the blue undertones.” You moved your forearm slightly. “And if you look at this angle you can see the purple undertones. I really like this one. Probably my favorite.”
You grabbed the final highlighter and showed you swashing it before speaking about it. “This one is called enchanted and it’s more of a tan-ish neutral shade and it’s really an easy go too.”
You grabbed a makeup wipe and removed the highlighters from your arms.
“Now there’s like 14 eyeshadows and I’m turning into a ulta worker at this point but I’m going to use my favorite colors and show you a look with the new brushes.”
You grabbed some eye shadow base before blending it out.
You grabbed a brush and started to show it to the camera before using it. “This one’s really freaking cool, because it has two sides. So I’m going to use one side for the eyelid and the other side to buff it all and blend it out better.”
You showed the brush up close to the camera before taking your eye shadow pallet and dipping into the the Smokey black shade. “This shade is called onyx.”
You tapped your excess power off and started to just place the black on your outer eyes. And the started to slightly blend it out.
“Now I’m going to grab this dark red and do the same and place it in the middle and blend it out gently into the black.” You did as you said and blended it out with a light hand and then went back in with some more of the black and blended it out a little, while giving it a bit more smoke.
Then you grabbed your make up wipe and made the cut sharp.
You grabbed the eyeliner next and with a light hand you applied it to your waterline, “something cool about this eyeliner is, one side is pencil while the other is liquid.”
You put it t down and showed the camera a view with your eyes close.
“Really nice, feels super light, no fall out, I really like this look, so i definitely recommend. Now I’m just going to finish my make up and I’ll be back to show you the finish look.”
When you started to record again your make up was finish and you had pull out a list on your phone of questions asked.
“This is the finish look, and I have thirty minutes before I leave to do this Q&A.”
You look down at your phone and read off the first question. “Do I plan to do a giveaway soon? Yes. I will probably post on my tiktok about it soon, so look on there.”
“Do I like video games?” You couldn’t help a little laugh that left your lips as you gave your answer. “Yes, but I rage too much so I don’t play much.”
“Any collabs soon? Yes, obviously Elf but I also plan to do a collab with @ThatgirlNobara so that’s gonna be fun.”
“Do I know Gojo Satoru and if so do I think he’s hot?” You gave a slight smirk to the camera. “Yes, but I think someone else from that group is hotter. Which will lead to the next question.”
“I noticed you follow Sukuna, what are your thoughts on him?” When you went to answer you couldn’t help the laugh and the faintest blush coming to your face. “He’s my celebrity crush, my TikTok is full of edits of him.”
“How did I get to where I am? I’ve gotten this question a lot and there’s a simple answer. Do what you love, if you love makeup do makeup. Be kind, and always have an open mind. It’s not something that happens over night you just have to have goals and the patience to achieve them.”
You did a little stretch and noticed the time. “That’s all for today, I hope you enjoyed this video and I’ll see you in the next one.”
Sukuna was reading the comments and he drummed his fingers on his desk.
Sukuna when do you plan to launch the Minecraft series?
“Me and the boys are gonna have it out within the next week.”
You haven’t played Valorant in a while… have you seen the new trailer?
“Valorant? No I haven’t seen but we can look while we’re waiting for Gojo to get his shit together and get on.”
Gojo’s whined out a hey from Sukunas headseat.
Sukuna switched the live to one of his side monitors and pulled up YouTube, looking up the trailer.
“Five months ago? Damn I’ve been out the loop.” Sukuna pressed play and immediately and Ad came up and it was one of those long 15 second Ad’s you couldn’t skip.
“Ugh come on. One thing I hate are Ad’s.” When the Ad came to an end Sukuna expected to see the trailer but was disappointed by another ad. “Are you kidding me.”
This one he could skip so he waited five seconds but in the fourth second you appeared across the screen stopping him and making him pause instead.
“Holy shit she’s hot.”
A bunch of who’s came from Gojo and his brother Yuji while the chat started to spam your name.
Chesterf6297: That’s Y/N
Rando101: That’s Y/N L/N she’s a beauty influencer
Toji - fushiguro: damn she’s fine.
“Who the hell is Y/N and why haven’t I seen her sooner?” Sukuna asked his chat but didn’t bother too look at the comments as the Ad drew his attention once again.
He pressed play and the Ad was talking about some make up bullshit that he couldn’t care less, no he was focused on the red that was popping out your eyes. As if you were wearing that for him.
“Dude she’s hot as hell.”
“Whooooooo?!” Gojo’s whiny voice came through the headphones once again and this time Sukuna blessed him with an answer.
“Someone name Y/N L/N.” A gasp came from Gojo as he recognized the name.
“Omg I saw a tiktok edit of her, hot as hell. Her recent video she called me hot too.” Gojo purposely left out the fact she said Sukuna was hotter just to fuck with him.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny.”
Quinntonsu75: dude it’s true
Ginahjsh45: Yeah but she also said your hotter
Hislhu: Yeah she said that
Sukuna read the comments but kept his mouth shut and just watched the trailer. By the time he was finished Gojo had logged onto Fortnite and the squad started to play.
They played a few games and usually Sukuna would talked to the people he was playing with (talk shit) or he would interact with his comments and veiwers.
However in between games he was currently looking you up, you had officially peeked his interest, though he didn’t make it anymore obvious. He didn’t talk about you for the rest of the stream, but you stayed in his mind for it.
You scrolling through your DM’s responding to people — not to the rude or weird ones, you blocked them — when you noticed that Ryomen Sukuna himself had sent you a dm.
Sukuna: Hey.
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First chapter out 🤭 this is so short compared to my other works. I’m in the works of making part two and I plan to make it way longer.
Part Two
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thewulf · 6 months
Text
Adorably Clueless || Steve Harrington
Summary: Request - So everyone rags on Steve for being stupid right so here’s the idea the reader who is pretty smart acts clueless about a lot of things and asks Steve for help because they don’t like the way the others jokingly call him stupid all the time... Read Rest Here
A/N: We’re pretending Robin and Steve are friends their senior year of high school, everything is moved up a year. Dustin and co are in eighth grade and reader/Steve/Robin/Nancy are seniors. K thanks <3Thank you for the request @loving-and-dreaming
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Y/N
Word Count: 3.5k +
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“Can I have a ride to school?” Dustin asked as you slid into the seat next to him running a bit behind this morning. You’d taken a little extra time to make sure you looked a little bit nicer than normal. Steve was around. He was always around. And you’d be lying if you didn’t say you had a little crush on him. You and every girl in Hawkins that was.
You quirked your eyes up to him while pouring the remaining orange juice into your glass, “No Harrington this morning?” Asking inquisitively. Steve had been picking Dustin up early the last few days throwing you out of your normal rhythm with the middle schooler.
He shook his head quickly, “No, we finished that project.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Rolling your eyes, you put the bacon and eggs your mom had made up onto your plate in a hurry, “Yeah, sure. Not like I have to go anywhere else.” You snickered knowing Dustin had to walk down the hill to the middle school, you couldn’t be bothered to drop him off then park.
Your mom sighed gathering the attention of both you and your brother, “I’m glad you’re driving him again, Y/N.” She smiled at you giving your hand a pat.
You frowned almost immediately at that comment, “Why? Steve’s perfectly fine at driving him.”
She gave you a tight-lipped smile knowing how you were. You weren’t going to back down from a fight, you never did, “Well, you know what they say.” She chuckled looking at Dustin who simply gave her the same look of confusion.
Shaking your head quickly you deadpanned at her, “I actually don’t mom. Enlighten me, will you?” You snapped back feeling all the irritation bubbling to the surface. Of course, you knew what they said about Steve. He was dumb. He was irresponsible. He would never get out of Hawkins. Blah blah blah. You might’ve believed that in the past but no longer was that the case. After you saw how he treated your younger brother you saw him in an entirely new light. Steve was kind. Steve was sweet. Steve was beyond thoughtful. You were crushing hard on the boy. And you’d done a pretty damn good job at hiding it. Right up until now. You were definitely giving it away now. Dustin’s eyes burning into the side of your head told you so.
She gave another quick, nervous laugh before clearing Dustin’s plate, “He’s just trouble sweetheart.”
“Typical.” You grumbled feeling annoyed as hell by your mother’s dismissal of the sweet man you’d observed over the last few months.
Dustin looked over at you giving you a curious look. You were usually mouthy with your parents but never pushed it too far. This was pushing it beyond what he was used to. And for Steve? He thought that was odd. Especially for you. He’d learned almost everything from you. You were analytical. Smart. Only spoke up when you knew you were right. Why were you defending Steve Harrington so boldly?
“What’s that honey?” She asked turning back to the two of you.
“You of all people shouldn’t believe the gossip. Thought you told us not to judge a book by its cover mother?” Refusing to look at either of them you decided on staring at the plate in front of you.
Her nervous smile gave it all away, “Sure. Now, off you go. Don’t want to be late to school now do we kids?”
You frowned annoyed as hell by the utter dismissal of the conversation. Oh, so typical. Rolling your eyes, you stood not even attempting to clear your plate, “Come on Dusty. We’ve got some learning to do.” You didn’t wait before grabbing your backpack and keys and walking out the front door without so much as a goodbye. Dustin followed quickly yelling a goodbye leaving a very quiet house for a very mouthy woman to deal with.
When Dustin jumped into the passenger seat of your old sedan you looked over at him. He was giving you the weirdest look. Studying you, “What?” You asked deciding to do your seatbelt instead of looking at him. You couldn’t look at him. No, that’d actually give you away.
“What was that about?” He asked not deciding to hold it back.
“What was what about?” You played dumb. It was so much easier. So, so much easier than explaining a stupid little crush that’d go absolutely nowhere.
He shook his head leaning back into the seat, “Steve? You’ve never mentioned his name before. Now you’re yelling at mom over breakfast about him? Thanks for that by the way.” He smiled knowing you’d always have his back.
You shrugged while backing out of the driveway, “I don’t know… You like him. He fills a gap I can’t fill. So why shouldn’t I defend him?” Trying to play it off you were thankful you had a reason to keep your eyes forward and on the road.
He nodded his head not fully believing you as his eyes narrowed in on you, observing you, “Sure, Y/N. That’s all.”
You nod quickly not daring to look over at your overly observant brother. Weren’t boys supposed to be clueless? Why was every single one of them clueless except Dustin? Of course, your brother wasn’t defective like a majority of the male population, “Yup. That’s all Dustin.”
The rest of the ride was nearly silent as Dustin sat there staring at you. He wasn’t going to give it up and neither were you. So, silence it was. When you parked the car in the lot you turned to him, “Not a word is mentioned of this morning to him. Do you need a ride home?”
Dustin smirked. The little fucker smirked. He unbuckled his seat belt and gave you the biggest grin, “Can’t guarantee that and nope. Steve is driving me home. We’re doing some investigating after school.”
You shook your head, “For once. Keep your big mouth shut. What are you even investigating? It’s Hawkins.” Giving him a curious glance, you stepped out of the worn-down vehicle trying not to be too late to class.
He jumped out of the car mimicking your actions, “Again, can’t guarantee that dear sister. And exactly. It’s Hawkins, there’s lots to investigate.” He grabbed his backpack before turning off to head down towards the middle school, “I’ll be back late, let mom know.” He waved knowing it was best to not give you the last word. Whatever. You’d cover for him like you always did. Steve was good for him. Just like Mike, Lucas and Will. It was never lost on you how you were always a touch jealous of your younger brothers ability to make true friendships. You’d only had one true friend. Thankfully, she was in most of your classes. You’d have gone insane have to deal with this whole high school thing alone.
As Steve got to know Dustin more you got to know him a little better too. It got under your skin how everybody so casually called him dumb or stupid. He was neither. He just played a part. A part you were easily able to see behind. He was his true authentic self around your brother, at your house. You’d caught him talking nerdy with your brother and asking questions somebody dumb would never. Steve was a master at his craft. An illusionist who needed to be the center of attention. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure that part of him out. For that you’d have to have a real-life conversation. One you often shied away from. Little did you know Steve was determined to get that conversation out of you, Dustin’s far too shy older sister. The girl he’d been crushing on since his split with Nancy.
He knew he was a goner the first time he really saw the real you. You were arguing with your mom, something he’d learned was commonplace in your household. He was amazed by your ability to express your words. You so flawlessly got your point across in a way he’d never seen. You were in his classes, but he’d never really seen you before. You were beautiful. Especially once your younger brother talked you up without even realizing it. He’d started to fall for you without even having a proper conversation. He wasn’t going to give up though. He wasn’t planning on going to Dustin, but he was starting to run through all his options. Every time he tried to dive in a little bit deeper you gave him that deer in headlights look. A look of knowing he was pushing the boundaries a little too hard. He’d back off. But then he got absolutely nowhere with you. Until you started coming to him for little things. You’d ask him a math question, one you’d obviously know the answer too, but one you knew he knew the answer to as well. Something to boost his confidence. For even you knew he heard the snide remarks about his intelligence. He was human too.
In English you’d ask him a silly grammar rule. In Phys Ed you asked him how to correctly shoot the basketball even though you’d been taught a thousand times over by Dustin and his know-it-all friends. In Spanish you’d ask him a simple question, beaming with pride when he answered back correctly. Little by little you tried to help him in the smallest of ways.
He was doomed, doomed from your sweetness. You’d taken his heart without the simplest of clues to doing so. He was trying to give you all the signs, the signs that showed he was incredibly interested in everything you had to offer. But you were clueless. Absolutely clueless to it all. For as smart as you are you were oblivious to him right in front of you. If he couldn’t figure it out soon he’d have to go to Dustin to get to you. He’d gotten the sense that only Dustin could talk some reason into you.
You’d been a pro at avoiding Steve at school that day. He hadn’t a clue as to why you were being so elusive. You were far too aware of your feelings to even try and approach a semi-normal conversation with the man. Avoiding him was your best option.
“You’re acting weird Y/N.” Kelly, your best friend, said as she spotted your eyes darting the cafeteria at lunch, “Been acting weird all day.”
“No, I haven’t Kel.” Speaking back in an instant you turned your full attention back to her.
A smirk that was eerily similar to Dustin’s danced on her lips as she watched you. Everybody seemed keen on your actions today, “In fact, you’ve been acting a little off ever since a certain Harrington has become friends with your very own brother. Peculiar.”
You rolled your eyes rather dramatically at your friend, “Look at you, jumping to conclusions.”
“You’ve been avoiding him all day Y/N.” She said matter of factly.
Shaking your head, “No…”
“You literally made Mandy trade seats with you in Chemistry today. I don’t want to hear it.” She cut you off.
“You’re annoying.” You sighed.
“And you’re being avoidant. The usual hey?” She grinned knowing she had you there. This was totally your style.
“Whatever Kelly.” Looking away your eyes went wide seeing Steve and his very own best friend, Robin, walking your way, “Gotta go talk to Mrs. Pace about my grade. I’ll see you later?” You stood quickly and ran off before she could even reply. When you turned back you saw the three of them conversing, talking about who knows what. You. They were talking about you.
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When you heard the front door open and close you’d assumed Dustin was alone. Your parents were out for a dinner date with another couple they’d been friends for years with. Being miserably bored you were thrilled when you’d heard him come home. Having somebody to annoy made you far too giddy.
“There you are!” Yelling from the top of the stairs you skidded to a complete stop seeing not only your brother but his much taller and much more handsome friend standing in the kitchen with him.
All too pleased with himself he gave you a head nod, “Y/N. Steve’s going to stay for dinner.” He didn’t ask, he stated.
“Sure, I’ll just be up in my room…”
He cut you off grabbing at your arm, “No, I know you haven’t eaten. Sit.” He sounded weirdly like your father.
“I already…” You tried but again he cut you off.
“No, you haven’t. The plate is untouched. Your water is still at the table. Sit.” He pointed to your usual chair. He had you there. He was too damn observant. Only Dustin.
You glared at him but sat down next to Steve who looked all too happy to be sitting there with the two of you. Not even you could lie, he was damn adorable sitting there kicking his feet watching the two siblings bicker back and forth.
Dustin set down two plates in front of you and Steve, “I just remembered. I was supposed to call Mike at 7! We’re supposed to be doing Mr. Ryan’s homework.” He rambled before running off upstairs.
“Dustin?” You called feeling a growing irritation for your meddling younger brother. The little shit just left you to fend for yourself with Steve fucking Harrington? What the fuck?
“Kids a trip.” Steve smiled over at you hoping it’d calm your nerves a bit. He knew you were nervous for some reason. He was anything but intimidating, or so he thought.
Your face broke into a grin knowing his motives. He was a trip, that one was for sure, “You could say that again.” Defeated, you grabbed at your fork knowing you couldn’t really just leave him sitting in your kitchen. Dustin would quite literally kick your ass if you did that.
He nodded his head in agreement, “Your brother is pretty great too. Never thought I’d enjoy spending so much time with a literal kid.” He snickered knowing the optics of the situation were less than stellar.
Finally, you looked at him. And Jesus, was he stunning. It wasn’t fair. He was so damn attractive and then he was so damn kind? Dustin was setting you up, “He get it from somewhere.” You agreed with him while nodding your head.
Steve’s smile grew even wider as he let out a hearty laugh, “He told me you were funny.”
Eyebrows raised you replied, “He did?”
“Yup.” He scooted a tad closer to you. All too thrilled you were finally entertaining a conversation with him, “He says a lot of good things about you.”
Without even realizing it you bit your lip slightly. A little habit Steve had noticed in school as he watched you a bit closer this year. It happened when you were thinking. When your mind was reeling, “Dusty’s the sweetest younger brother. I’m lucky.”
“Well, he’s got a pretty great older sister he watches all the time.” Steve said so casually you weren’t positive if you were hearing
Your eyes snapped back over to his suddenly very aware of why you avoided these conversations. Your cheeks were absolutely ablaze feeling like you could cook an egg off your face it was so hot, “
He smirked, “What? No comeback? He says your infamous for those. And I’d tend to agree. You schooled Mr. Clark the other day.”
Biting back a smile you rolled your eyes, “Dustin has a lot of opinions about me, hmm?”
He leaned forward feeling brazen, “You’re right. Enough about him. More about you.” His chair scooted just a bit closer. He was bold, you gave him that.
“Me?” Your face had to be as red as a tomato now.
“You heard me.”
Trying to be just a bit brave you continued, “Well, what about me?”
His chair inched ever so much closer. Your heart was racing at an uncomfortable pace as he opened his mouth, “Tell me something about you sweetheart.”
Sweetheart? Sweetheart. Damn, that made your already racing heart explode, “What do you wanna know?” It was a whisper. God, you were pathetic. He made you pathetic. A pathetic bumbling mess, “I hate chicken nuggets. I think they’re disgusting.” You said the first thing that came to your thoughtless mind.
He didn’t give you any time to be embarrassed though. He let out a snort before full on laughing, “Chicken nuggets? Really?”
You nodded quickly defending yourself, “I just… I just don’t think chicken should come that way. Not natural.”
He snickered shaking his head but moving his chair even closer. He was almost on top of you now. Surly, he could hear your racing heart, “You’re a trip too, Henderson.”
“Hopefully you mean that in a good way.”
His smile should’ve given you the hint. But you were clueless. Absolutely clueless, “In the best way.”
The two of you were so into the moment you didn’t hear the younger version of you walk down the stairs. To be fair, it had been twenty minutes. He’d just been sitting in his room bored to death and couldn’t take it anymore. So, he walked down the steps. When he walked into the kitchen he’d expected to find the two of you bickering. Just like he and Steve did. But he found the opposite. The two of you… enamored with each other?
He couldn’t hide the small smile creeping up on his lips. He’d all but gotten a confession out of Steve that he liked you. And he wasn’t dumb, you liked him. So, this was meant to happen, right? Plus, if the two of you were together then Steve would be over all the time. A win, win.
But he was bored, your love could blossom another time, “What’d I miss?” He spoke up. You nearly jumped from your seat. Steve scooted away in a hurry.
“Dustin!” You whisper shouted, startled by his sudden presence.
“Son of a…” Steve muttered while glaring at the younger boy.
Dustin gave him a devious smirk, “What was that Steve?”
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“He likes you; you know.” Robin set her bag down next to yours on the ground. She plopped down in the seat next to you in the wide-open library.
You looked up from the homework you were working on, “Hmm?”
“Steve. He likes you. Hard.”
Shaking your head, you decided on giving her your full attention, “No, no he doesn’t. I think I’d notice if he liked me.”
She snorted lightly, “You’re adorable. Adorably clueless. He likes you Henderson.”
“Then he’ll tell me himself.” You said so assuredly you weren’t expecting her reply.
“You’re right. He will.” And before you could reply Robin was off as soon as she had sat down.
Before you could focus back on your homework and ignore the weird interaction with the girl you’d come to adore from afar somebody else was in the seat she had just occupied.
When you looked up and spotted him your weak little heart started racing once more, “Steve, what’re you doing here?”
“Here to tell you something.” He smiled leaning back in the chair.
Robin? Robin was written all over this. He couldn’t actually like you. It was more of a thing to say to get her to shut the hell up. But now… now Steve might actually admit something.
“What’s that?”
He kept quiet until you looked up at him. He smiled gently at you. Trying his darndest not to freak you out, “That I like you.”
“You like me?” You asked back so quickly he was sure you hadn’t really processed it.
“Yes,” He nodded quickly, “I like you. A lot.”
“Me?”
He grabbed at your hand, “You.”
“You’re sure?” You couldn’t believe him. No. Not until he confirmed it at least twenty times.
“Positive.” He gave your hand a squeeze trying his best to keep you grounded in reality. Not stuck in that pretty little head of yours.
“Oh.” You’d finally processed his words. He liked you. Damn, he liked you?
“Hopefully that’s a good, oh.” He mirrored your words from earlier on in the week.
A small smile came to your lips, “Yeah, it is… but…” You paused not sure how to ask the question that was itching at the back of your head.
“But?”
“But you’ve never seemed interested.”
He let out a quiet laugh, “Robin was right, you are adorably clueless.”
You gave him a fake pout, “Hey now.”
He shook his head, “I didn’t say it wasn’t cute. It’s adorable. You’re adorable sweetheart.” He grabbed at your other hand, holding both of your much smaller hands in his.
“Hey Steve?” You said after a moment of silence.
“Yeah?”
“I like you too. I like you a lot.” You bobbed your head up and down.
“Tell me then, what do you say? We’ve got a problem and I’ve got a solution. I’m taking you out Friday evening. On a proper date.” Steve proposed looking all too hopefully at you.
You grinned, “I think that sounds like a great plan.”
He let out a small sigh of relief, “Finally, it’s a date my dear.”
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signedkoko · 3 months
Note
Hi!! I just want to start by saying thank you so much for sharing your writing with us! I check your blog everyday to see if you’ve updated and love reading what you post! 💙
In light of the season finale, I was wondering if you could do some romantic headcanons in which f!reader finally approaches Vox (after a long slowburn of mutual pining between them, though neither knows how the other feels until now) and tells him he deserves better than whatever unhealthy on-again-off-again thing he has going with Valentino? And perhaps suggests (or outright says) how she would actually take care of him/treat him better? 🫣 I would LOVE to see your take on it! Only the best for everyone’s favorite TV man lol!
Thank you so much in advance if you choose to do it, I hope that’s all clear! Please take care of yourself and have a wonderful day!
Vox X Reader [Romantic]
In which you decide its finally time to step inbetween Vox and Valentino. Reader is female.
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The most feared assistant in all of hell, you certainly were one of a kind when it came to sinners
The Vees had taken you in as their head assistant, close enough to be a fourth member but far enough to be uninvited to galas, showings, and all the celebrity events
It was your ideal position; you made plenty of money to get by
Class without the hass(le) as you always put it
Your job was hard, but it was nothing you couldn't handle; all it took was knowing it and predicting the hiccups
Besides Valentino, the other two were very relaxed with you and usually only demanded that you do things that were typical of your day
And being around them so much, you naturally became an honorary member; you'd especially spent plenty of time at Vox's side
He was the hub of communication, and he offered up a space for you to call an office in his own area of the building
Not only did that mean the others could easily reach you since you were always around Vox, but it also meant you always had an upgraded space, courtesy of Vox's constant innovations
He was always so peculiar; you could tell he didn't like being around people, yet he always called for you to pick up lunch with him
Or he brought you to meetings to 'take notes' despite the fact that he could transcribe every conversation in a second
To him, he was showing that he enjoyed his company; to you, it was an opportunity to get to know him better
Admittedly, you wanted to know a lot more about him—no, you wanted to know everything
Unfortunately, the more time you spent with him, the more you'd end up being around Valentino, who always called on Vox during his fits of rage
It was confusing
Vox expressed hating him, but also tripped over every step just to appease the overlord
And Valentino took advantage of that a lot, which caused a boiling anger to eat at you
But you knew your place; you knew Vox was an adult who could stop himself, so you bitterly witnessed it
But as you and Vox got closer and Valentino got rougher with Vox, it became impossible to ignore
After hearing a screaming fit from his office, you could make out Valentino's heels stomping out the door towards the elevators, and after a good moment of silence, you heard Vox follow
But you stood up this time, and right as the overlord passed your door, you caught his arm
" Can't talk right now. "
" He isn't worth your time, Vox, sir. "
You certainly didn't waste any time, and in a moment he went from pulling his arm away to stopping in his tracks to look at you with a surprised look scribbled on his face
You felt guilty knowing that he was only surprised because you'd never tried to help him before; he must have thought you were a terrible person, but you continued
" I don't get what you see in him when there are already people who love and care for you far more than he ever has all around you. "
While you started strong, your voice eventually tappered off into mumbles, already losing the confidence you thought you had when you started initially
The silence is deafening
Until he lets out a long exhale and slumps
" You're right, I shouldn't get so worked up. But Jesus, I didn't expect that out of you. "
He was already trying to bring in humour to laugh it off, but you were more glad that he didn't take your actions as negative
" Just so you know, I'm sure I can show you what you deserve "
You couldn't help it with his validation; you had to get it out, and he seemed to pause again—before a bluescreen came up
Oh no, oh no, you immediately called for him and snapped your fingers, hoping to shake him out of it, and with a quick reboot, he was back to ask if you meant it
And of course you did, and of course he wanted to take you up on the offer
As happy as he is, Vox is frustrated that he didn't ask you first; he's usually the first move kind of guy—or at least he swears
But he trusts you will treat him better because he's always wanted you to
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Author's Note - Tell me why I went so hard on the lore that this ended up being 700 words I am so sorry!!! I'm glad you like my work, I really hope I did your request justice!!! Again, idk why I went so crazy on the buildup ahhh
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ninmnoi · 5 months
Text
— Stop, you’re losing me.
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mingyu x reader || angst.
summary ; trying to save an already failing relationship is a lot harder when he forgets your birthday.
(not proof read lol)
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Its your birthday, you’ve never made a big deal about it tell you met him. You still remember his shocked face and loud “WHAT” when you told him you dont found your birthday a big deal, its just another day. Ever since then, he always celebrated your birthday in fun surprises and dinners. He made it so important and meaningful for you, and the big part of that is because you know he’ll be there.
So your nothing short of despair when its past 5pm and he hasnt once messaged you. It’d be another thing if he just didnt message happy birthday, you wouldve been okay with goodmoring.
You sigh putting your phone down, bitting your lip as your eyes water. It shouldnt be this serious, you’ve never even cared about your birthday before, so why dose it hurt so bad now?
Mingyu
That god damn Mingyu.
He used to be such a soft spoken soul, aiding to your needs as you do with him, those first few years of your relationship. He confessed to you in your own backward, he put his effort and time into it. You can even smell the flowers that lead to Mingyu, see the lights that brightened his soft smile, that swift hair and tall figure standing nervously fiddling with the bouquet in his hands. And who could forget the blush that tainted his face and ears, tears threatening to jump out after you said “yes.”
Now, your even lucky if he stays with you a whole day. Its always this or that driving him away. When he left your sisters engagement dinner because a friend of his needed help moving in, or when he canceled a date because he forgot a “really super duper important project” as he said. The nights he wouldnt call, the empty king bed. The second toothbrush that hasnt been moved in 2 weeks.
It drove you insane, but you still gave him the benefit of the doubt.
“Maybe he’s busy”
“Hes probably sleeping”
“God his phone must’ve died”
Your friends would yell at you over text, spamming you with the reality check you needed, but never could deposit. After pacing around the kitchen trying to ignore the cute cake you bought with a sad candle slowly sinking into it. You pick up your phone and call him.
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
*click!*
Did he just hang up on you..?
No, he would have to be crazy.
You call again.
Same fucking thing, even quicker just 2 rings in.
You open his contact info, trying to see where his location would put him.
“No Location Found.” You curse, what is he hiding? Your mind leads to the one scenario you’ve been dreading, infidelity. The thought of him cheating makes you wanna throw up, but sadly its a most common event. You’re just so done with everything, putting the cake away into the fridge and changing clothes. Its now 6:42pm and with the major headache you have, you simply decided to sleep it off. Hugging the build-a-bear Mingyu bought you a year back, it muffles your sobs, soaking in the tears.
It’s cold and dark when your awaken by an extra weight adjusting it’s self onto the right side of the bed. You recognize it all to well. Mingyu pulls the covers over himself, giving you a small peck on the tip of your ear.
“You’re home” you say, your drowsy and hurt voice clear.
“Yeah- im sorry im so late” he whispers to you
“There's cake in the fridge”
“Cake? For what”
You sigh, “My birthday”
You can hear his breathe hitch.
“Fuck- Baby im so sorry. I didnt mean to forget. I was just so bus-.”
You sit up.
“Busy,? from what? So busy you couldnt even text? Because clearly it wouldnt have taken as much time as hanging up on me and turning off your location did. So if ‘busy’ is some new slang for ignoring then that makes way more sense.”
“I didnt even know you called, i swear. My location should be on babe.. I” He mumbles on
“Then whos hanging up on me? Making sure i dont know where your at? Is she fun?”
Mingyu’s eyes widen
“What are you talking about?”
“Her, you know.. Is she attractive? What is it huh? Skinner than me? Or maybe blonder? Or is because you dont need to be responsible for her?
“Baby no, its none of that.” He grabs your shoulders.
“I love you, calm down”
“How can i?” You exclaim, jumping off the bed.
“You missed my birthday! I waited for you like some stupid dog! I felt so stupid.”
“I dont understand, birthdays were never that big of a deal for you”
“They werent until you made it a problem! Now look at me” you say, the tear stained face and puffy cheeks evident.
Mingyu gets up, walking over to you.
“I know ive been distant, let me make it up to you”
“Where were you tonight?”
He stays quiet for a moment, taking a deep breathe
“My friend he uh… invited me to a club” he quietly says.
“Oh. Okay.”
“Okay..?”
“Mingyu, get out”
“What?” His heart drops.
“Get out! Did the club music deafen you?? I want you gone” You yell, tears streaming down your face as you push him out. Though you have little to no affect of moving his body, it makes it all the more depressing.
“Okay…Okay..” He quietly says, grabbing his phone off the dresser. Looking down at you with remorseful eyes. His heart aching at the messed up state your in. And its because of him, god.
You slam the door behind him, locking it. You sigh before faintly walking back to your bed.
And theres your build-a-bear, ready to be hugged and to soak all your tears again.
Atleast, that comforts you.
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shihalyfie · 29 days
Text
I've alluded to tri. having some very troubled production behind the scenes, and among everything that apparently went on back there, there seem to have been at least two major bottlenecks: 1) the fact that the director (who, based on his own statements about deliberately not consulting source material, most likely didn't even watch Adventure to begin with) kept asking everyone to make things more "mature" without being clear on what that actually meant, and 2) the fact they ran out of budget and had to rewrite the entire plot halfway into it. Even the most brilliant of creators probably wouldn't be able to work at their best under such conditions.
But conversely, this also means that there were some excellent people involved in production whose efforts probably haven't been as appreciated as they should be! So I want to take a moment to spotlight some people I want to give props to:
Ayana Yuniko and Nakanishi Yasuhiro: These two scriptwriters were childhood Digimon fans who were thrilled to be on the project, and their enthusiasm clearly shows in every interview they were in. Ayana even made keen observations like noticing that the Adventure kids aren't as super-tight as people tend to make them out to be (something I've pointed out myself, and something that generally only tends to crop up among fans who have studied the series closely), and Nakanishi stated that she would slip him detailed notes about the characters and their relationships.
Both of them stated they were trying to portray the Adventure characters in a character-accurate way but kept getting their scripts rejected for not being "mature" enough, leaving them unsure about what they were supposed to do. Their roles on the series were also limited; Ayana was on parts 1, 2, and 4 while Nakanishi was on part 4 only, and they were sharing the scriptwriter role with multiple others (even within a single movie). But if I were asked to pick who on the staff list I would want to see come back for another Digimon work, it would absolutely be these two.
Kakikara Yuuko: The one in charge of overall writing for the series. tri. had a total of five scriptwriters and could have up to four(!) on a given movie, so because of that, her statements on the series and its story direction have been a bit difficult to tell whether it was her idea personally or whether she was delivering the writing room's discussion result. But one of her final statements on the series basically amounted to "I'm grateful if you even came to watch it to the end at all," and she was quite humble about saying she felt things could have been done differently; considering it sounds like she had a hard time keeping everyone and everything in order, I can only imagine she went through a lot trying to make sure everything ended safely. Incidentally, her writing portfolio is also quite respectable (and even includes kids' shows).
Suzuki Takaaki: The person with the job of "setting researcher", i.e. the one with the job of looking into the lore. Sadly, it seems like most of his ideas didn't make it into the final series (possibly because of the budget loss-induced rewrite), but his one solo interview indicates that he put quite a bit of conscientious thought into how Digital World lore works, including the idea of an EMP weapon that would affect Digimon easily but not humans (an idea that doesn't pop up among fans as often as you'd think, and took up until last year to make it into actual Adventure material via Takeru's 02TB in-universe fanfic).
Sakabe Gou: The person in charge of the series BGM. We haven't heard a lot from him, but the little we have indicates that although he also had difficulty understanding what the director was asking for when he wanted "mature" music of some kind, he himself put some very thorough thought put into the composition. In particular, he went into detail regarding the music used at the beginning of part 4, which seems to be a fan-favorite track from what I've seen (it's also my favorite too!). Sakabe also has an extensive and respectable portfolio outside Digimon; in particular, he's very highly regarded in Kamen Rider circles, so if you have a friend who's a fan, it might be a good idea to ask them about it!
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missbunnybunny · 9 months
Text
🫧『𝕺𝖍 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖍𝖊? 𝕬 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖞』🫧
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Tw: dark kink, unprotected sex, non-con, dark content, rough sex, bondage, kinky, breeding, praise, degradation.
A/n: If something is incorrect, please let me know. using Google Translate for Russian words. I simply put down what came to me and spell-checked it. I'm not sure whether it even makes sense or not but enjoy!
Note: I'm interested in seeing how good my writing is, therefore I'm giving it my all. I have high hopes, for this one. This is a long boy. Your meal has been served, it was my pleasure serving you all 🍽️🤵🏽‍♀️.
🎐𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝟐🎐
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Oh, Who is she...
-Russia, Kubinka.-
The sky was a never-ending sea of white and grey, with no sight of the sun to sprinkle a sliver of sunshine as the snow gently fell to the earth, painting everything white as far as the eyes could see. People were spotted marching up and down with their warm jackets and hats, guns in hand, flawlessly matching one stride at a time. Not one man, hair, or step out of line, just as they were trained.
An automobile stopped in front of a large structure, the driver's door opened, and a hefty man crouched down and carefully exited the vehicle. Soon after, three more doors opened, and three guys came out of the car, closely followed by a lady. Her e/c eyes surveyed her surroundings as she expelled a little puff of air and watched it develop and dissipate, demonstrating how chilly it was outdoors.
The group entered the building and proceeded to a table; the woman sat on a couch a few meters away from the table, setting her weapon down. Her colleagues each pulled out a chair and sat. You gazed at them silently as you picked up the riffle you had placed down as you walked in, taking it into your hands and starting to disassemble it. You were cleaning the scope aimlessly when you were dragged out of your thoughts by someone calling out to you.
" Rusalka." He exclaimed.  Rusalka a water spirit or a water fairy. She was frequently linked to the mythological concepts of a nymph or a mermaid. The term "Deadly but Beautiful" was given to you by your superiors. You liked the name Rusalki because she was a deadly dead creature and cursed ghost that resembled a young woman. Your countless enemies would hear your name before being struck down.
timid, helpless, and frail, some would say she was. But even the most beautiful flower may be toxic when needed. Judging a book by its cover would get you killed. You were nothing but skilled, powerful, and lethal.
"Yes, Captain Azhdaya." It signified dragon. He had a bulky physique. His face is studded with minor battle scars, except for the bigger ones. One on his left cheek a few meters from his lips and concluding just shy of his ear, a scar at the bridge of his nose, and a split on his lip. "Your location will be here," he says, pointing to a map as you stand to investigate.
"You will cover the team from this distance." He ended by tugging his finger in a direction. It was an excellent location with lots of trees and tall grass; blending in with an all-white outfit in an unending field of white snow would make it simple to conceal from the adversary and get a vantage point at the same time.
A misty memory
Leshy, the forest's guardian. His honey-brown eyes examined the chart, humming a tune under his breath as he took everything in. At 5"8, he was a few inches shorter than the captain.
Vodyanoy was discussing options that they might take advantage of. The hues of the woodland were reflected in the eyes. They were two colors, yet they were as enthralling as an unending expanse of trees and flowers. He was 3 inches shorter and had less muscular mass than Azhdaya, yet he was still a terrifying opponent to face in a fight.
Chuma and Leshy were the same height. He was a man with few words. But he was always in the mood for black humor jokes, making you both laugh and smile as the captain gazed on in fear. His eyes were clear and wonderfully polished blue proportions. He was a lovely soul, like your brother, even though you threatened to slam your foot up his ass for nearly getting killed.
You made your way to the table while reassembling your riffle. As you read the orders, your pupils narrowed. Objectives Destroy the English task force and safeguard the nuclear weapons in the ware home. Your hand reached for your hat, pulling it down slightly and readjusting it.
" Put on your armor and prepare your weapons. We depart at 0800 and expect to arrive by 1000." Azhdaya spoke up, dismissing you all from the briefing to prepare for the upcoming expedition.
You all walked out of the room and into your individual rooms. There would be no time to waste. Blood would be spilled tonight, and your squad would either win or die at the hands of the enemy.
A haunting face
The trip was uneventful. You all sat in the rear of the armored truck, silently double-checking your coms, gear, and weapons. Your seat was at the rear, and you were staring out the window idly. Watching as the colors of the night and the red glimmer of the tailgate blended together in one fast move before disappearing into the darkness. Only to pick up again.
You'd lost count of time, your attention only on the glittering lights in the night. It was lovely. Azhdaya was checking in with everyone to ensure that everything was in order. The squad represented family to him. The boys were like the sons had never had, and Rusalka, like the youngest, leave her alone, and she was going to destroy the world.
His gaze was drawn to the short figure in the rear, and he made a mental note to ensure she was mentally sound. She was threatening the guys, telling them she'd stick her pistol up their asses if they died on her.
The car came to a complete halt. "Rusalka, we're here." The person next to you spoke, Chuma patted your shoulder and stated. You blink and glance up at him, then nod your head, rise up, and grip the firearm close to your chest.
The expedition had begun; for better or worse, may you all return home.
Is she a lost embrace?
You and your riffle were hiding on a hill. A light coat of snow covered your body from head to toe. If someone looked in your direction, all they'd see is a mound of snow, plants, and trees.
They might see the glimmer of scope if they looked carefully enough.
Do you copy, Rusalka?- As a voice spoke up to you, you heard the communication link come alive.  That was your captain - Yes, over. -You talked quietly and quietly so as not to draw attention to yourself.
If you detect any activity, alert us - He said, staring out the window, his figure masked by the night's darkness. The others wait in their respective holdings for any others to either fire or rethink their future movements.
It was completely quiet. You had no idea how much time had passed. More snow blanketed your body like a giant chilly blanket, completely immersing you beneath it. Your hands were numb from the cold, and you had to push yourself to remain motionless as little shivers and trembles brushed your skin.
Am I in love with just a theme?
From the looks of things, tonight was going to be unremarkable. Until you heard it, that is. Your ears picked up on the faint crunching sound. It was too big for a cat, too quiet for a fox, and too tall for a dog. It was a person, but you had to make certain it wasn't a civilian.
You adjusted your riffle slightly and focused your attention on the shadows you saw slipping away in the darkness. When you saw it, they were holding firearms and wearing protective gear. -Humans- were the words that came out of your mouth as you turned on the coms connection.
You observed three towering people headed toward the structure. One taller than the other, he wore a hood, another wore what seemed to be a skull mask, and finally, a man with a Mohawk? You hesitated briefly, resisting the impulse to chuckle quietly. You had to admit it suited him. Oh well, He was still the enemy.
Static came from your coms, and it quickly came back to life to instruct you. -headcount?- he gruffly asked you. - 3, sir.- You hurriedly spoke. - Keep a lookout two missing people. He advised you that there should be 5. You dropped your sight and examined your scope.
You gazed about the area for a while before seeing it. A person towards the front of the building, next to a shrub. - 4 shrubs at the entrance - You spoke as you gazed at the man you would have missed if you hadn't seen his little movement.
Or is Ayesha just a dream?
You were told to shoot as soon as they broke through the door. The instruction was to shoot to injure and, if necessary, to kill.
Something caught your attention. You didn't know what it was, but something was awry on the opposite side of the field. Was it the stillness, the swearing misleading figures appearing in your vision?
You couldn't rely on your vision. The darkness and shadows might generate illusions that will stymie your enthusiasm and your team's life. The door to the building burst open while your attention was elsewhere. It caught you off guard. You looked up immediately to see that they were entering the building.
They entered the building, permission to shoot.- You talked softly but rapidly. As you waited, your finger slowly fell to the trigger. - Granted-, that was all you needed to shoot at the figure as it slowly made its way inside.
You kept an eye out for any opportunities. You pulled the trigger when you saw it. The bullet sliced through the air as it approach its victim. His leg was struck. His blood had stained the snow underneath him.
A mystery
From then on, all hell had broken loose. Ghost talked on the coms after Soap was shot. When he informed his crew that bullets had been fired, their senses went into overdrive. König was ahead of the group, gun lifted, trigger finger on the trigger, ready to fire on the suspicious enemy.
Ghost was on the right, Soap was on the left, and Price was just behind them. Soap was hobbling a little, but the gunshot had not killed him. Ghost unlocked the doors and searched the rooms for any indication or sight of someone. The weapons were reported to be at the far end of the facility, according to the information.
A gunshot struck the side of König's skull, missing him by an inch. As soon as the doors leading to the weapon room opened. He and his men retreated hastily behind the door and the walls, firing back at the culprits.
Both sides were heavily armed. It could be heard over the coms as the sound of gunfire broke out in the air. Making the night more silent, quiet, and foreboding. After a while, everything was silent; neither the wind nor the crickets wanted to make an appearance. Sometimes silence was never a good thing.
Oh, who is she?
You waited with bated breath - Leshy and Chuma were shot - a voice came through. Vodyanoy was there. You exhaled a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. You stood there watching as the man who had entered the building burst out the door.
You watched as the man with the Mohawk was assisted by a man wearing a helmet. The tallest of them all had the arm of the man in a skull mask over his shoulder. Their blood stained the snow with a brilliant scarlet tint.
That's when something occurred to you. - Vodyanoy, tell me where Azhdaya is. Unlike your normal calm and collected manner, you raised your voice. -The captain was shot in the abdomen.- As you received the news, your heart fell, throbbing and hurting. - I've already made the decision. But I require your presence.- You entered the building without hesitation, without caring if it would get you killed or if it was irresponsible.
The mission was successful, but at a high cost: everyone was severely hurt. The cost was cleared when the medical team came. Unfortunately, someone had to remain behind. You offered to remain behind because there wasn't much room in the truck, don't know how but it happened. Your team was against it, but you shot them down. You were the least harmed and would be hiding in one of the nearby hideouts.
Oh, who is she?
You arrived at one of the hideouts, an abandoned structure by a river. Your firearm was never far from your side or in your hands. Even though it was familiar ground, you could never relax your guard.
As you got closer to the building, you noticed a towering person. You'd seen him before. If you recall, he was the colonel on the other side of this combat field. You knew you could play the helpless citizen if you were simply charming to him. You could at the very least eliminate him and his squad.
You took a gamble knowing you were about to collide in this combat field unknown to him but not to you. He was tall, far taller than you would have anticipated. He towered over your commander. You choose to have some fun. You taunted him by messing with his thoughts. You become the night's shadow, the illusion that swirled in his unfocused eyes.
You observed him as he twisted and turned. Look to the right and left, up ahead and below. You chuckled a little, watching him feverishly search for you like a lost puppy. But you were disappointed since your spot had been snatched from you; you heard shouts and froze. The man in the skull mask exited the building beside the colonel. You made the decision to walk away from him. You locked eyes with him as he lifted his firearm and spoke harshly. " Get her."
A misty memory
You rushed out of there on your heels, seeking for a new hiding spot. You rushed through the deep forest, crouching low to avoid hitting a tree. You made the mistake of looking back and confronting death.
He was swiftly catching up with you. You ran and ran, and you appeared to have lost track of time, but one thing bothered you: they were both following after you, but when you looked around, you noticed the one with the skull mask.
You inhaled the frigid air, allowing it to enter your aching, anxious lungs. You proceeded to the abandoned building, taking in as much air as you could and watching for a while to be sure it was clear. You seek refuge in a dark area with access to the entrance and window.
You closed your eyes and lay back against the corner, rifle in hand, succumbing to tiredness and allowing sleep to overtake you. You were too sleepy to notice that your safe way was going to be your undoing.
A haunting face
As Ghost and König stood in front of the building König had seen you walk onto, it was late. Ghost had lost track of you, and the snow had made everything appear so familiar that he couldn't tell right from left. He waited until König returned, informing Ghost that he had discovered where you were hiding.
Now when they were standing in front of the building, Ghost crept inside quietly, not wanting you to flee. You being valuable to them since you know the ins and outs of the building. He creeps closer to the room, discovering you in a corner with a riffle in hand. Your head hung down, hiding your features. He eased you out of the corner.
He straddled your lap and took a knife from his thigh strap, pressing it to your throat. " You know, that's not nice. Everyone told you, you have a sexy waist." You voiced to him, as you looked him up and down, making eye contact, a little grin tugged at your lips.
Ghost's eyes narrow as he looks at you, moving his knife closer to your throat, a line of scarlet slipping from your slashed flesh. "I'm the one who asks the questions here." His tone was harsh and low. Sending shivers down your spine as his icy, almost lifeless eyes glared down at you.
You can feel his breath fan your face as he leans forward. You feel your cheeks get hot and flushed. Were you indeed roused by a masked guy riding your lap? Perhaps nothing is impossible in love and war.
Is she a lost embrace?
You heard a stir from behind you and tilted your head to see a tall man towering over the two of you. The moonlight behind him accentuated his silhouette. Huh? The lost puppy returned in search of his owner, you guessed. König kept staring into you quietly, observing your very move.
"as much as I would enjoy having you in my lap," you said to the masked man, carefully moving your hand, not revealing your plans for the following few seconds. "You've never said your name." You sweetly spoke, but they couldn't see it anyhow. Finally, make contact with your riffle and grip it tightly.
You heard him say, "König." His voice is deep and low, and just hearing it makes your stomach twist and spin. "Ghost," remarked the man next to you. "Rusalka," you say, raising your arm and smacking the riffle's bud into the ghost's face. Making him lose his equilibrium somewhat, providing you exactly the right amount of change.
König charged at you as Ghost was cradling his bloody nose. You couldn't feel his body as much as you wanted to. You turned and hurried out of the room you were in and into another. Will the mouse escape or will the cat devour the mouse?
I call her name
As you approached the front of the building, you could see the light at the end of the corridor. It was probably time to look for a new home, but unfortunately, like the cat that ate the canary, you were apprehended before you could safely fly away. Something heavy smacked your back, forcing the breath from your lungs in a huge gasp.
You're not sure how long you were out, but when you awoke, your wrists were bound behind your back and you were tied to a chair, your legs connected to the leg chair. "Well, aren't Kinky?" you said, glancing up at the two guys looking down at you. They look at you. Ghost approached you, his hands resting on your thighs. You could feel the marks framing the outline of his hands as he squeezed so hard.
"Since you don't want to behave, I'll teach you manners." Ghost spoke, harshly grading your chin. You felt hands on your legs before Ghost shoved it away. König knelt down and unfastened your legs. As König rose up and came to Ghost's side, you maintained eye contact with him.
Know that your thoughts were not going in circles. You noticed that it was cooler than usual. Looking down, you noticed your gear and jacket had vanished. Ghost came up behind you, untying your hands from the chair just to re-tie them. So you're not going to attempt anything.
Across an endless plain
Your face was smashed against the dirt floor in the blink of an eye, and your pants and underwear ripped off your waist as though a wild beast desired something more. Your cunt has been exposed to the stranger, Ghost. "You may scream all you want. It's just three of us here." As you felt something hard push against you, he groaned. "You want me to behave," you exhale, shifting your face to face him. "Make me," you spat in his face, you weren't going down that easy.
His cock pounding pierces your pussy lips and presses deep inside of you. Your eyes roll into your skull, erupting in a whining moan. You wept and pleaded in a high you'd never known, with each thrust driving your face further and harder into the floor, yet he never yielded. Instead, his muscular arms just held you in place until release arrived in the form of his sperm blasting forcefully into your womb. " Should've behaved." He talked as he stood, leaving your ass up on the floor, his cum flowing out of your pussy onto the floor.
In your haze, you noticed boots in front of you and looked up to see König staring down at you; you blinked up at him, blinking away the tears that had gathered in your eyes. From the fuck Ghost had given you. He lowered himself, stroking your cheek and brushing away some stray tears with his thumb. "We might let you go if you give us what we want." You forced your lips together tightly, not making a single sound. Looking him straight in the eyes.
She'll answer me
"She's a lot more stubborn than we thought, König." Ghost declared as he picked you up by your tide hands and watched your legs try to remain erect. Ghost's knife ripped your shirt, tearing it apart in front of their greedy gaze. His left hand touched your face as he raised his mask, tilting it so he could passionately kiss you. You trembled as an enormous chilly hand clutched your chest, his right hand still firmly gripping your roped-tied hands.
Squeezing and licking your nipples like a ravenous starving man. König sucked and bit, leaving a trail of vibrant markings from your chest to your stomach and then to your core. While pounding two of his enormous thick fingers into you, he spreads your lips while kissing and relentlessly sucking your clit.
Your thoughts were racing with pleasure and overstimulation. Your lips were still being taken. You fell undone under them, Ghost's ravenous lips snatched the chances to breathe. König sipped your juices, humming to himself as if it were his sole source of relief for his parched throat. As he drank his fill, you felt the vibration against your pussy, and he drew away, licking his lips and letting his hood fall back down his face. His gaze fixed on your crumbling body.
Ghost, you let go, and you fall to the floor, your legs too weak to support you." It appears that we will have to break her." You didn't know who said it since you were too fucked up to notice or care, "Bite me." Your response was more of a drunken rambling than confidently articulated.
Wherever she may be
You became crushed between Ghost and König, and König pulled his hood up and pushed your chin up for him, tenderly kissing you and caressing your hair. While ghosts' hands raced across your body, searching every inch until nothing remained untouched by his fingers.
You could feel König's cock throbbing and dripping little pearls of cum against your tummy. Your body was drawn up until you were hovering above his quivering, gushing tip. As he split you in two, your arms swiftly curled around his neck, covering your face in his chest.
König drove himself more and deeper inside you, and with each inch, you gasped for breath. "That's a good girl…" He praised you, and you let out a tiny curse in your native tongue, feeling as though his words had kindled a fire within you. Soon after, his base kissed your cunt's lips. He let you relax for a few moments before grabbing your supple hips. It began slowly and steadily until you felt something hard press against your ass.
You totally filled König and Ghost in one fast motion. They began to thrust; being full of könig was one thing. But being filled by them both over and over again had you groaning and moaning like the slut you were for them. Every vein pressed against your walls as they gently stretched you out, shaping you to the shape of their dicks with each deep push. Bouncing you up and down, hitting every deep area that had you seeing stars. Fuck, the entire cosmos.
Oh, who is she?
König was concerned that he would inflict too much harm on you. After all, you were so little compared to him and Ghost. Nevertheless, he was losing control of himself, his eyesight obscured by the need to fill you with his seed. His head and judgment, his cock longing for release. König held you to his chest. Something about the whole event you excited in a deep primal lust, a never-ending hunger.
The only thing your lust-filled thoughts wanted right now was to be taken from behind and in front by two huge beasts like them. The lack of König's cock was already causing your insides to ache for him, and you whined for him. König whispered into your ear as he gripped a fistful of your hair, his hot breath thick on your neck. "mine! your fucking mine." He hissed low and commandingly. how you loved it, squeezing them tighter.
In one seamless stroke, könig sheathed himself into you up to the hilt, one hand on your neck and the other securely gripping your hip. The loud yell that the movement elicited from you was addictive in and of itself. They couldn't get enough of you, making an obscene squelching sound as König and Ghost brutally pounded their big cock as if you'd vanish if they didn't.
They grunted deep animalistic grunts as they pushed into your swelling pussy and ass, and you swallowed them in and contracted around them like there was no tomorrow. Not wanting to give up the mind-bending bliss.
A misty memory
"дa да да да" [yes⁴] You screamed in pleasure, feeling your body tense and quiver every time König's balls made contact with your clit and his head pressed against your womb. " я кончу! чувствую себя так хорошо. заполните меня, пожалуйста." [am gonna cum! feel so good. fill me up, please.] You mumbled in your native tongue, head clouded with pure raw lust.
Their ears were filled with your moans. They totally engulfed themselves in you, with König pushing all of himself past your lips and his head pressing against your cervix. They didn't care about the lew sounds, popping in and out of you. Not with them making you feel so amazing. " I'm-A-AHHHHH!" You could feel his cock's head pushing in and out faster and harder, a couple of thrusts of their hips. With a loud cry that tore itself straight out of your lungs, you spammed and squeezed around them.
You'd never experienced anything like this in your life, and it rocked you to your core. Underneath them, you were a trembling mess. Squeezing around them, feeling you tighten and flutter, was enough to induce them to cum inside you.
His hips were forced against you, and his cock was shoved in as far as it could go. As he poured hot ropes of sperm into your womb, his veins surged and his skull flashed. They were coming inside of you in ropes and ropes, and you were breathing heavily. Their cocks beat rhythmically with your constrictions, their testicles contracting with each spurt of come blasted into your small pussy and tight ass. There was so much of it that it started to pour out of you and onto the floor.
A haunting face
You were in ecstasy. You were warm, full, secure, and safe. You'd just had the most exquisite fuck of your life by the same enemy you were supposed to kill, and they were remaining inside of you as if they'd die pulled out of you.  You've never felt more at home than right now, beneath both of them. You turned your head and kissed his cheek, despite his hood covering it.
You awoke in the middle of them, it was still dark, König's hand was wrapped around your waist, while Ghost's hand was wrapped around your thigh. You gradually broke free from their grip. You discovered your gun and jacket. You hand no pants or underwear, much to your dismay. Just a jacket, some equipment, boots, a hat, and socks. You gazed at the two men, your hat partially covering your face, but it wasn't gonna work. Ghost wouldn't mind if you searched through his belongings; after some searching, you discovered what you were seeking.
You discovered his balaclava. It was just like his. Everything was painted on the skull. His eyelashes were virtually white, and it was rather sad that your enjoyment had come to an end while admiring their loveliness. Because of obvious reasons,-Rusalka, why is your line off?- The person on the other end of the telephone chastises you. - ну да xpн, Vodyanoy.- [oh fuck off].
Vodyanoy placed his palm over his heart and added, -The love, am touched.  I got you what you asked for.- He chuckled, knowing you had a scowl on your face. He was the one person you could contact and ask him to deliver your clothing with no questions asked.
Is she a lost embrace?
You did take some Vodyanoy and Leshy, as well as Chuma on occasion. They accompanied you when you went shopping for new clothing and even underwear; someone had to carry your luggage, and it wasn't going to be you. Vodyanoy was the only one who knew your exact measurements; it was actually rather amusing. He looked like a lost child the first time he went to the store to assist you pick out new clothes.
You could hear tires crunching on the snow as you walked away from the building. " I finally tracked you down. Get your ass in the car before you freeze. Short bitch." He chastised you like a child caught sneaking a cookie when they weren't meant to. As you move to the rear, you give him the middle finger.
You were finally warmed up again after changing your clothing. "Sooo… What fucked you over?" said Vodyanoy as he drove in silence. He wonders if the cold has finally caused you to lose it and go around nude. "As if you'd know." If only he knew, you retorted cynically. You snicker that he could be having a heart attack.
Somewhere across the sea of time
It was approximately 0700 when you arrived at the base. You could still feel hot ropes trickling down your leg. You were sore. Your entire body felt like it was made of cement, weighing you down. You were about to walk into your room, but life doesn't work that way.
The captain wanted to visit you in order to obtain an incident report. "Rusalka, what has happened to your face?" He inquired. Remembering the vivid moment when Ghost slutted you out on his dick and banged your face into the floor."Nothing, sir," you say as you avoid eye contact, "are your injuries better?" You shifted the topic on which he indulged.
You were surprised to learn that the higher-ups were relocating the nuclear weapons and reassigning the personnel in charge of them. You were disappointed, which meant you wouldn't be seeing them again.
"Rusalka, I was wondering where you found that?" Azhdaya inquired, pointing to his face to indicate what he meant. Oh, you reasoned. Ghost's balaclava, which you stole. "In an abandoned building. I like it," you stated casually while caressing it. It was silky and smelled like tea and dark wood. You were reminded of him, but you wouldn't tell them the truth. A tiny white lie will not harm.
You were curious whether Ghost had worn it before you stole it from him. You miss his touch, and you consider yourself addicted to them.
A love immortal such as mine
Ghost and König awoke at 0800 in the morning. He gazed about, feeling the lack of warm skin underneath him. König sprung to his feet, having awoken from an abrupt shift next to his body. He two saw someone was missing, and you were no longer there.
Everything about you had vanished, even your weapon and ripped clothes. It was almost as if you were a ghost that appeared for one night of pleasure just to vanish into the darkness. They went around the building but couldn't find anything, which is when he discovered it.
There was something in his thigh pocket, where his regular skull balaclava would be. It was a white hat. The hat that you wore when they discovered you sleeping in the corner. He investigated for any other missing items and discovered that his knife had also vanished.
As König and Ghost stood there grabbing and repairing their equipment, Ghost stated, " Clever girl." His dark eyes narrowed as he glanced at the hat he clutched in his fingers. If he gets his hands on you again, he'll tie you up and imprison you in his house like an animal.
Will come to me
Soon after, König and Ghost were picked up and joined the others. Price enquired as to why they had split up, but Ghost disregarded the question by adding, "We were surveying that area when a storm caught us." He side-eyed könig who nodded in agreement.
When they landed in England, the Price informed them that their plans had been altered by higher-ups. Laswell informed them that the weapons had been relocated to an unidentified location. And that, for the time being, they would do other things until they figured out where.
König's shoulders fell, and Ghost remained cool on the outside, but he was in turmoil on the inside. It suggested that there was a little chance they'd stumble across you on the battlefield. König hoped to see you again, to feel your delicate skin, and to hear your whimper as you unraveled. He urgently needed you, your cunt, all of you.
Ghost was disappointed because he hadn't completed educating you who was in control. And that you were nothing more than his to break and train as he saw fit.
Eternally
You'd met the two men a month ago. To say you missed them would be an understatement; you were ravenous for them to break you, make you their slave for their cock, to give you pleasure. But you'd never say it to their faces. You enjoyed the sight in their eyes when they believed they could control you, and you liked being controlled by them. win-win.
You submitted to training, gaining new skills and experiences. You even earned your nursing license. You had a good time mocking Chuma for getting into problems due to Leshy and Vodyanoy. He was like the group's older brother… getting hurt for the stupid things his younger siblings did.
Azhdaya summoned you to his office. You were aware of the situation. You submitted your application for a move in two years. You adored your team, but you felt it was time to go out to new waters.
"Are you sure?" Azhdaya asks, setting the papers down and staring at you. looking for any signs of unpleasant emotion on your face. "Yes, Sir." You formed a little smile on your face and nodded. " Alright. " He sighed and continued to talk to you.
Immortal she
It had taken two years, but the day had finally come. Tomorrow was your departure day from Russia for your new home base. The crew surprised you with a farewell party. Providing you with goodies that you may not find in your new home.
Leshy and Vodyanoy were sobbing uncontrollably. Leshy shakes you back and forth, imploring you, or rather pleading with you, to stay with him. Vodyanoy clutched your leg as if he were a kid, imploring you not to leave him alone with Leshy, and explaining that Leshy was this and that. You stroked his hair. You could have been the one who lost a screw, but Leshy was missing the box and the lock that held it in place.
You ate and drank as if there was no tomorrow. They dropped you off at the airport the following day.  giving you a hugs and best wishes. - The flight from Moscow, Russia, to London, England, is about to board.- The announcement was made over the speakers.
König tapped his foot nervously. Ghost stared at him as he waited in line with his other 141 task members, giving him a supportive nod. They didn't know anything about the newcomer. They were meeting them for the first time today.
A vehicle was spotted approaching the base and slowing down before completely halting. The door opens, and a figure walks out, their h/c hair gently swinging in the breeze that blows past the base. They exchanged handshakes with Price.
When könig and Ghost turned around, they could only gaze as your s/c skin sparkled in the sunshine. The way your h/c hair complemented and framed your face, making you appear ethereal. Most importantly, the sunbeams in your eyes, causing them to glitter like a Dimond on exhibit for its beauty.
Return to me
"прывітaнне, я Русалка. It's a pleasure to meet you, " [Hello, my name is Rusalka.] You spoke quietly, offering your hand, never breaking eye contact with Ghost and König as you smiled at them. They knew, and you knew it wasn’t your first encounter with them.
To be continued......Maybe, if people like it.
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I have an alternate universe Buggy that's been ratallng around in my head. A female Buggy that's like Taylor Swift, so she got into music and wants to be a singer. She spent most of her time on the Oro building up her guitar and piano skills. She stole the guitar from the musician(was aware but let it happen) and begged Roger to get a piano. She didn't inherently have the greatest vocals and got teased, specifically by Shanks. Dreams of being in front of a crowd cheering her on and singing her songs. Those dreams are what drive her. It goes hand in hand with canon Buggy’s inferiority complex and constantly seeking attention to be a star.
The reason I can imagine it is because Buggy would be the kind to right the most unhinged lyrics that TS is known for. Also a lot of her lyrics reflect Buggy.
Mirrorball - And they called off the circus Burned the disco down When they sent home the horses And the rodeo clowns I'm still on that tightrope I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me
Me! - I know that I'm a handful, baby, uh I know I never think before I jump And you're the kind of guy the ladies want (And there's a lot of cool chicks out there) I know that I went psycho on the phone I never leave well enough alone And trouble's gonna follow where I go (And there's a lot of cool chicks out there)
Karma - ‘Cause karma is my boyfriend Karma is a god Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend Karma's a relaxing thought Aren't you envious that for you it's not? Sweet like honey, karma is a cat Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me Flexing like a goddamn acrobat Me and karma vibe like that Ask me what I learned from all those years Ask me what I earned from all those tears Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here (I'm still, I'm still here)
peace - Our coming-of-age has come and gone Suddenly the summer, it's clear I never had the courage of my convictions As long as danger is near And it's just around the corner, darling ‘Cause it lives in me No, I could never give you peace
long story short - Fatefully I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me Misery Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep And you passed right by I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides The knife cuts both ways If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break
Never Grow Up - And no one's ever burned you Nothing's ever left you scarred And even though you want to Just try to never grow up
So here I am in my new apartment In a big city, they just dropped me off It's so much colder than I thought it would be So I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on Wish I'd never grown up I wish I'd never grown up
Endgame - I hit you like, "Bang" We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me
The whole of Dear Reader and most of Anti Hero. New Romantics just sounds like a pirate anthem. So definitely something Buggy would write.
Here are the albums that would be about different exes. The exes that had a lasting impact on her.
Red Hair Shanks - Debut, Fearless, and Red
Donquixate Doflamongo - Speak Now, a little of Fearless and Red.
Charlotte Katakuri - Speak Now
Sir Crocodile - 1989
Sakazuki/Akainu -folklore, evermore
Dracula Mihawk - reputation, Lover, folklore, evermore
Midnights is a mix of them. Also she falls back in love with Mihawk and Crocodile after they form the Cross Guild.
Her exes have a hard time forgetting her and its made even worse by their enemies using the songs about them to torment them. It also doesn't help that their subordinates and families listen to her songs too. I'm still figuring out the timeline. Akainu happens before Mihawk but she is so hurt by him that she wasn't able to write any songs about him until much later.
None of this is a commentary on Taylor Swift or her personal life. Just my interpretations and how they'd fit.
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ghostfanwriter · 7 months
Text
💖🧰 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 🧰💖
Part five
←Previous part
💖 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem! Reader
🧰 Synopsys: Joel comes back with a few gifts for you, and you ask Frank to make him a gift as well.
💖 Features: Reader daydreams about Joel and touches him, graphic but no smut per say (I think?); Pet names and Joel guiding her as she touches him.
🧰 Word Count: Around 7k.
💖 About this: This doesn't move the plot a lot, but it moves the story on the sense that he shows her how he cares about her and she cares about him back?
🧰 Author's Note: Inconsistency is key over here. Impostor syndrome decided to pay me a visit and also now that spring's coming I'm working like crazy, and so my writing got a bit slowed down. Hope you like this, I put a lot of love into it 🩷
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His backpack, a lantern, a gun.
A guitar, a leather bag with tools, another bag with brushes and small cans of paint.
All of his things surround Joel as he sits on the floor of an abandoned convenience store somewhere far from Lincoln.
He took his time to block the doors and windows before checking his list and winding down.
The day went by smoothly, with no encounters with any infected or alive. He found everything he was looking for, especially the things he was looking for you.
He takes a box from his backpack and opens it, taking a camera and its instructions out of it. He has to squint his eyes and hold the paper away from his face so the words become clear for his tired eyes.
He opens the small packaging with photo papers and fills the camera, turning it on, looking at the ceiling and quietly praying it'd still be functioning.
He knew how happy you'd be if he got it back to you. How you'd finally be able to have things looking just like the real thing.
The camera turns on and he smiles, then looks around, thinking of what he could take a picture of to test if it still worked. When he finds nothing interesting, he turns the lens to himself and takes a photo, that comes out perfectly.
His face doesn't help it, though, and he grunts when he sees it.
He looks old. Old and tired.
No.
He doesn't look old and tired. He is old and tired.
Too old, too tired.
Too old and tired for you. What is he thinking?
He crumples the photo, setting it aside, crumpling his thoughts along with it.
He's been through it.
He is getting old. But he knows his feelings, knows his feelings for you. He'd never get close to you if he didn't know how he feels for you.
He wouldn't because he'd kill the man that did to Sarah what he did to you. There's no questioning that.
But he knows how he feels for you. He knows how you feel for him. He can't just vanish now, just go away, it's too late to realize this was all a bad idea.
He can't let you not believe in love because an old man broke your heart.
He goes back to his backpack and grabs one of the containers with the food you prepared for him. Opening the lid, he sees the shredded chicken and breathes in deeply, smiling at how good it smells. The images of you preparing it that morning star replaying in his mind, taking him right back to it.
To how sunny and happy you looked, how your hair was messy from wearing that funny hat the whole morning, how your skin was glistening from being in the sun picking the crops for breakfast.
How your skirt moved along with your body, how your shirt hugged your chest so nicely. How more comfortable you were around him this morning, compared to the one before. How much closer you got the night before...
He cuts his thoughts when he starts feeling a tightness on his jeans. He adjusts himself, then takes a picture of the food.
He wants to save it, to remember it. Remember having you taking care of him like that.
Even in the poorly lit room the camera somehow manages to take an intelligible photo again, and he hums, pleased with it.
He puts it back inside its box and grabs a fork, devouring the chicken, humming with the taste and texture of it.
Still chewing, he grabs a pancake and rips it, using it to grab some of the chicken and eating them together, laughing at how good it tastes.
He keeps eating, thinking about how you're probably having dinner with your dads right now. How he'd be sitting across from you, how he'd take your ankle between his and caress it.
The scene makes him smile.
But he can't help but think about the last time he had dinner at a table, eating and talking, everyone going through their days and laughing.
How long ago it was.
How Sarah was still there.
How he wishes he had her with him.
He thinks about what he told you, about how you two would be good friends if you've ever met.
Thinking about her hurts too much, so he avoids it. And doing so he never thinks about her as anything but a fourteen years old.
Never thinks about how she would be old enough today to have her own children. How if things never went to hell he could maybe even be a grandfather today.
He shoves more food in his mouth, trying to take his mind away from what his life could be. Away from such painful places.
He finishes his food quickly, thinking about whatever, as long as it didn't hurt so much.
And he wishes you were here, with him. He feels comfortable with you, he trusts you. He would think about Sarah if you were with him, he'd go through his memories, would cry even. Because you'd be there with him.
But you're not, so he lays down, using the bag filled with your clothes as a pillow, thinking about you. About how you'll probably try all the new clothes and show them to him. How pretty he knows you're gonna look in them.
He picks up the photo he crumpled and straightens it back, thinking about how upset you'll be if he tells you he took a picture of himself and threw it away.
He falls asleep with the thought of caring for you. Keeping you safe and well, like he failed to do for Sarah. How Sarah always wanted him to be happy, how happy she must be seeing that he's maybe finally found peace and love.
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You hardly closed your eyes all night, thinking about him.
If he was okay, if something happened, if the coffee was good, if the food was enough.
You're lying on a rocking chair on your porch, almost falling asleep when Bill walks out of your house.
"Hey, baby. Sit up, close your legs. Joel's back." He says, tapping your shoulders, and your heart starts racing inside your chest.
"Joel already?" You ask.
"Yeah, just saw him through the cameras." He says.
"Oh, there he is." Frank says, following Bill towards the gates.
You resist the urge to get up and run to him, and just bend over the porch fence, focusing on controlling the wide smile trying to break through your face.
He's back. Hopefully he's alright. Your eyes and nose burn just from the anticipation to see him.
When your dads are getting near the gate you see him more clearly. Carrying at least six bags, all full, seemingly very heavy too.
Joel greets your dads with a smile and a "Hey."
"Hey, how'd it go?" Bill asks.
"Fine, no problems. Found everything and some more." He responds.
Bill looks at him, then eyes his guns.
"Bill, I think we can trust him." Frank says, smiling awkwardly, and Joel shakes his head, setting all his bags on the floor.
"No, he's right. You can't lower your guard." Joel says, looking past your dads. "You've got something important to protect." He adds, handing your dad his guns.
"That I do." Bill says with a smile, taking them and some of Joel's many full bags.
"You didn't have to bring this all back. We could take it by car later." Frank tells him between grunts, also taking a few bags.
"It's fine." He says quietly as they begin walking towards the house, and Frank looks back at him.
"Is everything alright? Where there really no problems back there?" He asks Joel, slowing down his pace so Bill wouldn't listen to them.
"Yeah, no. It was fine." He responds, looking at the house, already looking for you, smiling when he sees you almost falling over the porch to look at him.
"She was crazy worried about you." Frank says, looking at you. "Stayed on her window until dinner time, waiting for you. Probably wouldn't have eaten if I didn't call her."
"I'm sorry." Joel says, looking at Frank, and he frowns.
"For what?" He asks, and Joel looks back down, avoiding your dad's eyes.
"For her. She told me she, well... Told you about us." He says.
"Oh, yeah... I mean, she's been lying to me." He says, and Joel looks at him. "I saw you two before you left. Didn't know you were, you know... there already." Frank says, and Joel gulps, his shoes seeming more interesting to him than ever before as he stares at them to not look at your dad.
Oh Frank...
...You've been so much further than that.
"I'm sorry, I don't even know if I should have ever gotten close to her. Shouldn't have talked to her, looked at her." Joel says, and Frank looks at you, smiling.
"Look at her, Joel." Frank says, and he looks at you.
All of his sadness, worry and tiredness dissolve when your eyes scrunch with your smile.
Shining as always, a big, now shameless and uncontrolled smile on your face. He can't help but smile back at you.
"She hadn't smiled like that for a while before you arrived. Definitely didn't smile like that since you left yesterday." He says, and Joel looks at him. "You're making her happy. That's all a father can care about." He says, and Joel's stomach hurts.
He knows that feeling all too well. He misses feeling it.
They reach the porch and you scan him up and down, trying to see if there's anything different on him.
"Are you okay?" You ask, your brows furrowed, your eyes worried.
"Yeah, b—." He curses himself. "I'm alright. Just a bit tired." He says, looking at Bill, praying he didn't catch the nickname he almost let slip out.
"Are you hungry? We were about to have lunch." You say.
"Well, your chicken is starting to wear out." He laughs.
"Well, then let's go in. You need some rest." Frank interrupts you two, bringing a few of his bags in. Bill follows him, also carrying some of them.
You and Joel share half a second together, while you also pick up a few bags.
"Take just this one. It's all yours." He says, handing you a soft and heavy bag.
"Oh — God. Is this all just my clothes?" You ask, grunting when you pick it up.
"Yeah. I found a really nice dress, think you'll really like it." He says, smiling.
"You didn't need to bring all this weight, Joel." You say, feeling bad for the effort he made for you.
"It's fine, baby." He reassures you. "It was for you."
You smile at him, making an actual effort to not go and hug him.
You were so worried, so stressed. It's been a day, and you feel like you haven't seen him in weeks.
Footsteps coming from inside cut your thoughts, and you turn around and start going inside, finding Bill on your way to the living room.
"Everything okay?" He asks.
"Yeah, was just telling Joel he didn't need to bring me all this stuff. It's really heavy." You say.
"It was the only heavy thing I brought though. The heavier stuff stayed." Joel explains himself, walking in, carrying the remaining bags.
You place your bag next to the coffee table and turn around, looking back at him. And you notice something behind his back.
"Is that...?" You ask with a big smile, pointing at the guitar.
"Oh, yeah. It is." He says, smiling. "Found a good one." He takes it off and holds it in front of himself for you to take it.
"Ah! Thank you." You scream quickly, taking it and going to sit on the couch besides Frank. "Did you only find one?" You ask, looking around and noticing there are no others.
"Uh, no. A store full of them." He starts. "But I still had a lot to look for, so I just took this one." He explains.
"We can share this one, it's fine." You say, smiling.
He sits on an armchair and rests his backpack by his feet, opening it to look for your camera.
"Here, Bill, this is yours." Frank says, handing him a big leather bag with tools.
"Oh, look at these, baby." Bill says, sitting by your side and opening the bag.
"Oh, wow! More tools, how exciting, dad!" You joke, acting like you're more excited about them than you actually are.
"Haha, funny. What did you ask for again? Huh?" He asks, and you give him a look. "What was it, baby?" He insists.
"Nothing. I asked for nothing." You lie, and Bill looks at Joel.
"Clothes. She asked for clothes." He says, laughing, his cheeks red and his eyes glistening.
He loves seeing you with Bill. You two are exactly what he thinks him and Sarah would still be like.
He'd love her more than anything, they'd joke around and he'd kill anyone who tried to brush a finger on her.
"Joel! C'mon, that's so unfair. You can't be in his side!" You say before he's finished speaking, acting like you're mad at him.
"Oh, yeah, clothes! The thing your wardrobe is full of." Bill says over you, laughing.
You rarely see your dad so laid back. You love to see him laughing and having fun. And it's interesting to notice how much in common he has with Joel, how they always agree on what has to be done and how to do it, how they make fun of you the very same way. In other circumstances, you'd say they'd be good friends.
You and your dad keep arguing about tools and clothes, playfully hitting each other.
"Hey, this is for you too." Joel interrupts you, beckoning for you to come towards him. When you do he hands you a small book with guitar instructions.
"I thought you were gonna teach me." You say, disappointed, and he laughs.
"I will, I'm just messing with you." He says, removing the camera from his backpack and showing it to you.
"AAAaaah!" You scream again, this time for longer, your eyes wide and your voice high. "No! Joel, where did you find this?" You ask, bending down to hug him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." You say on his neck, still not letting go.
He caresses your back, looking awkwardly at Bill, who looks at Frank, frowning.
"Enough, baby. Let him go." Frank tells you, distracted by what he's looking at, but you're too busy enjoying Joel to hear him.
Too busy feeling relief, the hug much more thankfulness for him being back than for the camera. He's here, he's fine, he brought you so many things.
He thought about you while he was away...
"Baby, hey." Joel whispers. But you only let go when Bill almost yells your name.
"Sorry, Joel." You say, running to your dads, jumping over the bags on the floor and throwing yourself back in between them on the couch.
"Oh my God!" Frank says when you show it to him. "Does it work?" He asks Joel.
"Yeah it does, pretty well." He says. "There's some paper inside of it already, there's more here with me. The photos come out instantly." He explains to you.
"Uh!" You gasp, your eyes wide, and the three of them look at you. "Can we take pictures?" You ask.
"Yes! I want a family photo." Frank says, excited.
You look at Bill, smiling and biting your lower lip.
He frowns, then nods, smiling. "Yeah, alright."
You're so excited you're shaking.
"Joel, can you take the first one, please?" You ask, and he nods, so you hand him the camera and sit back on the couch, holding both your dads' hands. The three of you put on your best smiles and stay still.
"Wait, is my hair good, loves?" Frank asks you and Bill, who look at him, and you fix it. But Joel's already pressed the button, and he photo comes out of the camera: you smiling, fixing your dad's hair. You don't notice it, though, and Joel keeps it to himself, waiting for you to be ready.
"Now it is." You say, looking over at Bill. "Oh, daddy. Your hair's a mess." You say, fixing it for him as he keeps messing it back. "Stop! Let me fix it." You say, playfully slapping his hand away and laughing, and he stops.
You take their hands back and nod to Joel, who takes the picture, mesmerized by you.
Your big smile, your hair, your dress, the soft tan you have around your nose, how solar and pretty you are.
After he takes it he sees your eyes growing wider through the viewfinder of the camera, when you see the photo coming out of it. You run towards him.
"Oh my God!" You scream, taking the photo. "It's us!"
"Let me see it!" Frank says, excited, and you sit back in between your dads.
"Oh my..." He says, tears forming in his eyes. "It's us. Our family." He says.
Bill leans on you to look at it, his eyes getting red as soon as he sees it. He looks at you, caressing your hair, then he looks at Joel.
"Thank you." He says, and Joel nods, smiling, holding back his own tears.
He knows how important memories like that are. He wishes he had more photos with Sarah.
"Now we need one of all of us." You say, not giving him the chance to drown in those thoughts. "We can't keep you out, Joel." You say, getting up.
"Yeah, c'mon, sit here with us." Frank says, scooting next to Bill.
"No, it's alright. It should be about you, not me." He says.
"C'mon!" You say, going towards him and grabbing his hand, pulling his arm. "You're with us, I want a picture of all of us!" You say, grunting as you struggle to move his body an inch away from the armchair, and he gets up.
"Okay—God, you're persistent." He says, laughing, going to sit next to Frank.
You stand in front of them, holding the camera.
"How do we take this one?" You ask them, and they all frown.
"Didn't think about it..." Bill admits.
"Maybe try and... I don't know, turn it and see if it frames all of us?" Frank suggests.
"Okay." You agree, sitting in the coffee table and trying to figure out how to hold the camera with it facing you. "Alright, big smiles old men." You say, laughing and pressing the button.
"Hey!" They all scream.
The photo comes out perfectly, with all four of you clearly in it. All of them laughing and making offended faces at what you said while you smile proudly in front of them.
"Oh, this is amazing." You say, laughing when you see it, turning to them.
"No, baby, c'mon, take another one. A serious one." Frank says, laughing, slapping your thigh playfully.
"Alright." You say, turning your back to them. "C'mon, smile." You say right before pressing the button.
"Is it good?" Bill asks, leaning close to you, looking at it over your shoulder.
"It's perfect" You say, looking at the photo, loving every single man in it. "Thank you, Joel. I had no idea this still existed." You say, turning to them and looking at him.
"Now everything's gonna look just like the real thing." He says, mentioning the conversation you two had the day before when picking vegetables for breakfast.
You smile. He remembered what you said, he was thinking about you just as much as you were thinking about him.
It's not like you don't know your dads love you and care about you. You do. But their love feels different from Joel's.
You feel special because he wasn't meant to care about you. He decided to. He saw you and thought you were special enough for his time and effort.
It's a type of attention you've never had before.
"Did you find any of the stuff we talked about?" Bill asks when he understands you two talked about the camera, not liking the wide smile you're shooting Joel.
"Yeah." Joel cleans his throat. "Lots of tools and big cans of paint. Stuff for fixing the fences, the houses, mowing the lawn." He answers, adjusting himself on his seat.
"Great. Think we can make it today?" He asks, and Joel thinks before answering, looking again at you, then looking back at your dad.
"Uh...Yeah, sure. I just need a shower first." He says, and Bill nods.
"You're going out again?" You ask Joel, more disappointment present in your voice than you wished.
"Darling." Frank says, looking at you and turning his eyes towards Bill.
A silent 'How are we supposed to explain this to your dad?'
"I'm sorry, but aren't you tired? You just arrived." You say, more calm.
"It should be an one-hour drive, I can rest on the car, it's fine." Joel says, and you sigh.
"You're sure? We could go tomorrow, or other day." Bill says.
"Yeah, no. It's fine, I'm fine." He says. "Just dirty." He laughs. "Would rather go today and fully rest tomorrow." He decides.
"Can I go? Since you're driving there?" You ask, and Bill grunts.
Letting you outside wasn't his favorite, but your dad knows you can take handle yourself. And he stays more calm with himself and Joel being there to protect you.
"Well... I don't see why not." He says smiling at at you, and you smile back.
"Actually, I think you should stay, dove." Frank says, and you whine.
"Why?" You ask.
"Well, we shouldn't leave the town alone for so long, right? And I don't wanna stay here alone." He says.
"But I—" You start, and he gives you a look.
A look he only gives your dad. A look he gave you for the first time yesterday, watching you and Joel kiss.
Fuck.
"Alright." You agree.
"Great! We have lots of laundry to do with all this new stuff Joel brought you." He says.
Bill looks at both of you, also eyeing Joel, trying to see if he's maybe understanding what's going on.
"Well, alright. You rest then, Joel. We're leaving right after lunch." Bill says, getting up and going to the kitchen.
"I'll go start laundry." You say quietly, picking up your heavy bag.
"Do you want help with that?" Joel asks, already getting up.
"No, thanks, it's fine." You say, smiling, picking the bag.
"Okay. I'm gonna go shower." He says, nodding to Frank and going upstairs as you walk outside.
"Fuck me." Frank sighs, rubbing his hands violently on his face. Then he fixes his hair and goes to the kitchen help Bill.
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After a few minutes you can already smell lunch being prepared.
You go upstairs to pick up your dirty clothes. If you're stuck at home doing laundry, then you might as well do all of it.
As you walk up the stairs you can't help but think about how Joel's on his own. How he said he'd shower, how much you loved seeing his body that other night.
You skip your bedroom and go straight to his. When you reach his bedroom door you hear his shower running, and quietly walk inside the room.
You find his wallet on top of a pile of clothes on his bed and grab it, running your fingers through the worn-out leather. Opening it, the first thing you find is Sarah's photo.
You look at it. It's old and starting to rip at the edges. The colors are finally giving in and fading, specially around her right side, like if Joel caresses her cheeks and hair when looking at her.
Thinking about him going through such loss makes your heart ache. You feel so much for your — probably deceased — parents, and you haven't even got any memories of them. You can't imagine what losing his daughter must have felt like for Joel. And to think that the only memory he has of her is fading away...
You have an idea. You put it back on top of his bed and run downstairs, grabbing your camera and rushing back to his bedroom.
...
When you get there he's still inside the bathroom, but he stops the water as soon as you open his wallet. You take the photo out and bring it close to the window, taking a picture of it.
You sit on his bed and hide it on your bra, putting the original photo back. Just when you're finished he walks out of the bathroom, his hair damp and his body covered only with a towel wrapped around his waist.
You can't breath for a second, overwhelmed by his wide shoulders, strong chest and stomach, his belly poking out and his cock outlined on the towel. You've never seen him like this, at least not in daylight, and you can't look away.
He sees you eyeing him up and down and smiles, like if he knew he'd find you exactly where you are right now. Like was hoping to find you there.
He walks to the bedroom door and locks it.
As he walks closer to you, you can see the water droplets covering his skin, and he notices your blissful and watery eyes.
"I missed you." He says, cupping your cheek, your eyes faltering as soon as he touches you, taking your ear between his index and middle finger, caressing the skin under your eye. He leans down closer to you and his wet hair drips on your forehead, making you scrunch your eyes and laugh.
He smiles and kisses the water drop on your forehead, then your cheek, right besides your nose. He moves lower and gives your lips a peck, slowly making his way through them to roll his tongue around yours.
His movements careful and intentional, his beard scratching your lips and your cheeks, making you moan and lean further into him. His dry lips making you deepen the kiss, making you wanna keep them wet.
He pulls away and looks down at you, his wet hair falling over his forehead, dripping, the water running down his cheeks.
"I missed you more." You say, touching his waist before wrapping your arms around him. He pulls your head closer to his body, hugging you. His skin, still cold from the shower, wetting your face.
You kiss some of the water droplets around his chest and stomach, burying your face on him as he caresses the hair over the nape of your neck. You caress his back, bringing your hands to his sides, finding the hem of his towel.
"Baby..." He says, trying to convince himself to stop you.
But he doesn't, and you pull on it, slowly letting it fall out of him. Your heart slams against your chest when you see him naked. His wide shoulders, strong torso and slightly prominent belly making him tower over you, making you want to lie back down and pull him on top of you. His cock, big and soft, right on your face, making you lick your lips.
He takes a fistful of your hair, gently pulling your head back to make you look up at him. He almost smiles at how he finds no resistance to maneuver you.
"Right now is not the time." He says with a low voice, barely above a whisper, slowly shaking his head, leaning down to give your lips a peck.
He pulls away with a quiet groan when you touch his cock, just running one finger over it, then taking it in your hand, moaning at how heavy it is, even when soft like this.
Even though he said you shouldn't, he doesn't stop you from touching him. He likes how curious and open you are, how different it feels to be with you, who wants to explore things with him, and not just have sex because he wants to.
You keep holding him, touching his tip with your thumb. When you lick your lips and try to lean closer to him, he pulls firmly on your hair, keeping your head in place.
"I didn't say you could use your mouth." He says, softly but sternly, caressing your hair.
You look up at him, bringing your eyebrows together and letting out a soft and frustrated moan.
"But you're dry. I don't wanna hurt you."
"Then lick your thumb, baby." He instructs, and you do, wetting it and exploring his tip again, earning a groan from him.
It's the first time you're seeing his cock soft and dry, the second time you're seeing it up close, and you want to understand and memorize every little part of him.
How his soft — so soft — skin covers most of his tip, how it wrinkles at the edge; how you can see a few veins poking on his skin; how warm and heavy he is; the curves his tip has, how they make you want to run your tongue all over it, on top of it, underneath it, maybe even ask him if it'd be okay to poke the tiny hole at the center of it with your tongue.
How its size and thickness make you wonder how it'd feel to have him inside you. If it'd hurt, how far would it go, if you'd feel it all the way, if you'd still feel him the next morning, how empty you'd feel after he left you.
You wet your thumb again, rolling it on his tip, remembering how soft and warm it felt on your clit, how badly you want to feel it on you again.
Your other hand goes to his balls, picking them and rolling them on your palm, earning a loud sigh from him.
"Careful there, baby." He warns, and you soften your grip on them. Their soft and squishy texture making you actively remind yourself to not squeeze them.
Your heart accelerates when you feel him starting to grow and harden, softly pulsing from time to time. But you hear a soft knock on the door, and you freeze. Your heart beating so fast you're afraid it may give in that you're with Joel, since he's certain his is audible as well.
"Joel?" You hear Frank's voice.
"Yeah." He responds, taking the chance to get away from you and look for an underwear. His voice a bit raspy.
"Oh, hey. Huh... lunch's ready, if you're ready to come down, we're about to eat." He says.
"Alright, thanks, be right down." Joel says, putting his underwear on.
"Okay." Frank says, and you hear his footsteps going away; then coming close to the door again. "You haven't seen her... Right?" He asks suspiciously, and Joel looks at you while he puts his jeans on, moving his lips.
"No, last time I saw her, she was in the living room, taking her clothes outside to wash them." He lies.
"Yeah, I saw that too. But she's not there anymore."
"Maybe she's just somewhere else outside." Joel suggests, reaching for a shirt in one of his drawers.
"Yeah, she probably is." Your dad agrees. "Well, anyway, she'll come when she's hungry." He finishes before walking away again.
Joel, now almost fully dressed, comes to sit by your side to put his shoes on. And as he starts putting on his socks you realize you've never been by his side before. He's always either across from you, behind you or in front of you, but he's never sat besides you.
You look up at him, his cheekbones and nose sculpted by the glaring sunlight entering through his window. His face feels so far, his pouty lips so out of reach. He looks so good, so big, so strong, so overpowering almost.
You've never felt small or powerless; your dads always did their best to make sure you had the confidence to face anything you ever came across. And yet here you are, struggling to fill your lunges because a man is simply putting his shoes on by your side.
Wishing he would just lay you on his bed and crush you with his weight again, making it hard for you to breath — Oh how good it felt when his warm skin touched yours, when his rough and large hands held your hips so firmly and his beard scratched your neck and collarbones. His hot breath burning your skin—
"You should go to your room, baby." He says without looking at you, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"Are you and dad gonna be away the whole day?" You ask, slightly out of breath, and he looks down at you, shrugging.
"Don't think so. We're just gonna go take the stuff I couldn't bring by hand. It's an one hour drive, then just pick it all up and drive for another hour back." He explains, his hair falling all over his face.
"Do you ever brush your hair?" You ask, and he frowns.
"Not since I got here. You know, somehow this time I forgot to pack my comb." He jokes, laughing proudly at himself.
"Don't get up." You say, carefully leaving his bedroom to not walk into one of your dads.
...
After a few seconds you come back, a comb in hand. He's finishing his second shoe, and laughs when he sees you locking his door.
You walk towards him, stopping in between his legs, just like you did the morning before.
First you run your fingers through his hair, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer.
He looks up at you with soft eyes as you carefully comb his hair back. When the repeated and soft movements start soothing him, he closes his eyes and touches his chin to your chest, keeping his head back, a relaxed and joyful smile on his lips.
While he was away, he kept thinking about you, thinking about how he, so relatively late in his life, found such an opportunity. Not just the opportunity to leave the QZ and still be safe, living a comfortable — even happy, maybe — life. But most importantly, the opportunity to have someone who seems to genuinely care for him. Maybe even love him someday.
Someone making sure he has enough food, exhaustively asking if he's gonna be okay, making him want to be careful and return home safe, making him feel like he as a home, respecting his time to talk about Sarah, pushing him to explore his old hobbies and combing his hair...
And nothing is asked in exchange, nothing is traded. He just cares for you... And there you are; solar, pretty, a positive and shiny refuge amongst all the depressing things he is always surrounded by.
"Better." You say, and he opens his eyes, not minding having his daydreams cut by the one causing them.
"Did it look that bad?" He laughs, his voice soft.
"No, I just wanted to touch it." You whisper, cupping his cheeks and kissing him. "I was so worried. I felt so bad for asking you for clothes. And you've brought so many of them, so much weight." You say, barely pulling away from him, holding his face in your hands.
"I still have some that aren't in that bag." He laughs, and you frown, smiling when you see his smile.
"You do?" You ask, running your hands down his back, letting most of your weight fall over him.
"Yeah, those I said you could wear only for me?" He says with a smirk. "They're in there, go get them." He points to the backpack he took with him. You let go of him and go towards it while he gets up and goes to his bathroom.
You open it and find a pink bag with a few pairs of lingerie inside. You can feel your cheeks heating up imagining yourself wearing them.
They're so sheer, so small and revealing. You take all of them, setting every new pair carefully on top of his bed.
He comes back to hug you from behind, squeezing your waist, gently pulling your hair over your left shoulder and kissing the right side of your neck, going from pecks to open mouthed kisses and nibs.
"They're so... Small." You say, and he stops.
"You don't have to wear them if you don't want to, baby." He reassures you. "It's okay." He tightens his arms around you.
"No, I liked them, it's just... Why even wear them if they show almost everything?" You ask, and he laughs, tightening his hug.
"That's the thing, baby. They show almost everything." He says, his chin on your shoulder.
"I don't get it." You frown.
"You know how you looked at me when I left the shower? With the towel on?" He whispers.
"Oh, okay... I think I get it." You say. You couldn't help but think about what he'd look like without the towel.
Knowing something so fragile was keeping you away from his naked body was... thrilling.
"You're gonna look so pretty in them, baby." He says, and you moan quietly. "Can't wait to see it."
"I can only wash them when I shower, so you're not gonna see it tonight. Maybe tomorrow." You say, and he squeezes your waist.
"I'll try and not lose my mind." He laughs on your neck. "Now go, I gotta go downstairs." He says, turning you around, giving you a kiss. You turn around, and he calls your name. "Are you not forgetting anything?" He asks, holding your camera.
"Oh... Yeah." You try not to sound too suspicious.
"What were you doing with it?" He asks when you reach him.
"I was taking pictures of you showering." You say innocently, and he frowns. "Of course I wasn't, oh my God!" You defend yourself, and he laughs.
"Are you sure?" He asks.
"Yeah. I was just taking it up to my bedroom, and then I remembered you were showering, so I came to see you." You say, hugging him again, stuffing your face on his chest.
He kisses the top of your head and walks you backward towards the door, going slowly so you won't trip.
He lets go of you and opens the door. You two walk down the hallway, and he squeezes your waist as he lets you by your bedroom door, going downstairs.
You hide the bag with the lingerie at the bottom of a drawer and go outside, back to laundry.
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"Isn't she coming?" Bill asks, and Frank shrugs.
"I looked for her but couldn't find her anywhere." He says, putting the plates down.
"I ain't gonna eat without her, not when I'm leaving for the day." He says, getting up and walking outside.
"Where is she?" Frank almost whispers to Joel.
"Huh?" His question catches Joel off guard as he's helping him set the table.
"Did she leave your room already?" He asks impatiently.
"She wasn't—" Joel starts, shaking his head.
"Joel, I looked all over this house and everywhere I knew she could be. I know she was with you." He says in hushed, angry whispers.
Joel doesn't like this. He doesn't like this at all. Your dads shouldn't know about it. They shouldn't even think about it. He wanted to do things the right way, slowly, carefully. Respectfully.
"She went outside before I came downstairs." He admits, fixing your cutlery. Frank watches him, noticing how much care he puts into everything he does to you.
"Did something happen in your room?" He asks quietly, like he was afraid of the answer.
"No! No, nothing happened." He says firmly. "She just wanted a hug... And a kiss. Just said she missed me, was worried about me." He says with a short and shy smile.
"Did you miss her?"
"I was the first to say it." He says, looking at Frank. "Look, I know you may not believe it, but I do care about her. At first I didn't wanna get involved with her at all to not hurt her when I left." He says, sitting down across from your seat, looking at your chair. "But then fixing your car that day Bill talked to me about the houses around here. How I could work on one of them if I wanted a second, safe place to stay."
"And you're considering it?" He asks, and Joel takes a moment to respond.
"You know how QZ's are. They have their benefits, but overall... They're nothing compared to this. Tess said she won't leave, so we could still keep the deal going. I also have my brother, who has access to other things. Things Tess and I don't have."
"Your brother works for FEDRA?" Frank asks, turning his head slowly.
"No! He doesn't. He's a Firefly." Joel rushes to say.
He can't help but worry about his brother, but he's in no hurry to come back.
"Is that what you and Tess talked about that day when she called? About you staying?" He asks.
Joel nods in response, and Frank wonders how things escalated so quickly. How he went from telling Joel not to look at you to agreeing to have him move in to be with you.
"Just make sure you are sure before you tell her anything, alright?" Frank says with a sigh, scratching his forehead.
"I don't wanna stay if you don't think I should. If you don't think it's right you tell me and I leave as soon as we finish what we need to do over here—" Joel says, a hint of shame in his voice as he doesn't look Frank in the eyes anymore.
"No, Joel... It's not that, I'm sorry." He interrupts Joel, leaning back on his chair. "I'm just thinking about Bill. I mean, I don't wanna scare you, but we're gonna have to be extremely careful if we want you to come out of this alive." His seriousness almost scaring Joel.
"Yeah, she... She told me that." He says, playing with his fork.
He just had to go slow with it, and everything should be alright.
Right?
...
You're sorting the clothes Joel brought you when your dad finds you.
"Hi, my honeybun." He says, and you laugh.
He has this thing where sometimes he'll call you the sweetest nickname he can think of, just for the sake of it. Somehow he still comes up with new ones from time to time.
"Hey, daddy. Is lunch ready?" You ask smiling.
"Yeah, your dad said he couldn't find you, though." He asks, picking one of the dresses and holding it in front of himself.
"Hmm. Must've been when I went to the bathroom." You lie, and he hums.
"Aren't these dresses a bit too short?" He asks, picking another dress you've just thrown on the laundry pile. "Why did Joel pick this for you?"
"I asked him to." You say almost too quickly. "I showed him some magazines and described what I wanted. He said he'd bring a bit of everything and I'd see what I liked." You explain.
"And did you like this dress?" He asks, raising his eyebrow.
"I did, yeah." You say, and he scratches his head.
"You know I don't like you wearing this type of things around him."
"Dad..."
"Just avoid it, alright? Joel might be whatever, but he's still a man. And you're so gorgeous, my honeybun." He says, cupping your cheek. You kiss his palm, screaming at yourself for lying to your dad, for doing all this behind his back.
But would he ever let you experience what you've had with Joel if he knew about it?
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The only conversation at the table was between Joel and Bill, as they discussed the roads they'd take and how long it should take to come back. Your dad was focused on Joel's descriptions of the way, and Joel walked him through it while he caressed your leg between his ankles again.
But it all felt too rushed when they had to leave. Your heart feeling hollow and your stomach overfilled as your dad kissed your forehead, and Joel discreetly squeezed your hand while your dads kissed goodbye.
"Take care, you two." Frank says.
"Got two good reasons to be." He responds, kissing Frank again.
"I have one too." Joel whispers to you, knowing Bill has his back turned to the two of you. You smile up at him, quickly touching your head on his chest, quickly pulling away when your dad turns around.
"C'mon." He tells Joel. "I love you, baby. " He tells you before going inside the car.
They drive away, Joel looking at you through the car's mirror.
...
"Dad?" You ask Frank after the gate closes behind your dad's truck.
"Yes, love." He responds fixing your hair behind your ears.
"Can you help me with something? A gift for Joel." You ask, and he raises his eyebrows quickly.
"Sure, what is it?"
"Do you think you could paint this photo for me? Make it bigger and fill in where the photo is fading." You say, taking the photo that was still on your bra and showing it to him.
"Baby, who is this?"
"He never...?" You ask.
Fuck.
Joel never told your dads about Sarah, maybe he never told them anything about himself.
"He has a daughter?" He asks, confused.
"Had... one." You hesitate.
"Oh, dear." Frank sighs. "Sure, love, I can do it." He says, walking inside in a hurry.
Now he understands why Joel was always so understanding of his and Bill's concerns. Of why he always said he didn't want to stay if that'd make him and Bill uncomfortable.
Because he knows what caring for a child is like.
...
Now it was just you and your dad for a couple of hours. But strangely enough, he didn't look for you. Didn't come to help you with laundry like he said he would, didn't ask any questions. He just spent the whole day at his studio, painting.
Probably painting Sarah.
"Hi, dad." You say, entering the room and sitting by his side.
"Hi, my love. Are you okay?" He asks, noticing your expression.
"Uhum. I'm fine." You say, looking at his canvas.
"Think you can tell me her name?" He asks, looking at Sarah's photo.
"I don't know... I thought he had told you and dad." You say, feeling guilty for exposing that part of Joel without his consent. He trusted you, after all.
"That's okay. You don't have to." He sounds calm while he starts mixing more of the paint Joel brought him.
"Why did you want me to stay?" You ask after a minute. Even though he's not acting like he's mad at you, you know exactly why he wanted you to stay. So why won't he just say something?
He sighs, taking several seconds to respond, focusing on his painting and on what he's gonna say.
"I wanted you to stay so I could yell at you, cry, even. So I could ask why you lied to me, what you two have been doing behind our backs." He says, and you instinctively pull your body further from his. "But then I saw him hold you hand before leaving, whispering something to you, you snuggling on his chest. Then you asked me to paint her... And now I feel like I shouldn't do any of that anymore." He says, looking down at you.
"I'm sorry I lied to you. I was just afraid you'd tell dad and... I don't like to think about what he'd do to Joel." You say.
"I'm honestly more worried about what Joel would do to defend himself." Frank says, and you look at him.
As obvious as it sounds, you've never thought about it. You never considered Joel defending himself. Maybe your dad coming out of it hurt. Because of you.
The thought makes your breathing shallow, and your dad notices it.
"Hey, hey, baby. Nothing's gonna happen, okay?" He soothes you, caressing your hair. "We're gonna go slow, be careful. And we'll prepare dad for it. Okay?"
"Uhum." You agree, your breathing still laborious.
"But I mean it when I say careful." He says, and you look at him. "I saw you going upstairs earlier. I know you were with him." He says and you look away from him, embarrassed. "That I have a problem with. You're not being honest with me. And that was all I asked from you."
"We'll just be actually careful and everything's gonna be okay."
"Aren't you afraid?"
"I am." He admits with a sigh, kissing your forehead and hugging you, letting silence take over.
Imagining one of them coming out of this hurt makes you want to tell Joel you don't want to do this anymore, that he should stay away from you. He should just go back to the QZ and you should just forget about all of this.
You've lived just fine without anyone like him, you always handled yourself — oh, but it feels so much better when he's there with you, his rough hands feel nothing like your soft ones —, you've always been loved by your parents — but the way he loves you feels different —, and you've just met what...four or five days ago?
You can get over him.
But imagining him going away, never seeing him again, never talking to or touching him makes you want to cry, to scream. It makes you whish you just listened to your dad and never looked out the window, never let Joel see you — never looked at him in the first place —, never smiled at him, never moaned his name, never called him into your bedroom. But you can't. You've done all that, you've touched him, felt his warm breath on your ear, and you can't imagine never feeling that again.
So you just hug your father, trying to keep your mind away from such terrifying scenarios, from one of them getting hurt.
You know one day your dad will know. And you know someone may come out of it hurt.
Be it physically or not.
You just hope it's not both.
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Hope you liked it, friends 🩷. Bill's gonna find out sooner or later, the problem is... What will he do when he finds out? How will Joel react?
Hope you're here when we find out, I love you all so much, this series means so, so much to me, and I love getting comments, reblogs and asks talking about it. I love that you guys are still so invested in it, even when it takes me so long to update the story.
Ily 🩷🩷
My Masterlist 🩷
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I have thought on Jadzia Dax from Star Trek Deep Space 9.
I'm currently rewatching the show (midway season 2), probably my 4th watch through over 8 years? My first time with slightly more youtube-essay-driven media analysis skills. I'm enjoying picking up on a lot more things than I used to but there's one thing that bugs me above all else.
Jadzia Dax doesn't really have a strongly defined character that shines through.
I've spent a while thinking about it. Obviously as a science officer its a little harder to tell stories the audience can understand and relate to compared to Odo's murder investigating or Sisko's exasperated diplomacy, but her stories have issues greater than that.
Both the stories centred on Dax, in season 1 where she stands trial for a crime supposedly committed by a former host, and in season 2 where someone tries to steal her symbiont, are about things that happen to Dax. Not the things Dax does. She is neither the perspective character through which we can see the world of Star Trek, with her own unique views and feelings, nor is she the one actively moving the plot forwards. She's either the victim who sacrifices herselr or quite literally refuses to do anything. Unfortunately this is quite a common failing of writing that's easy to fall into, writing about a character instead of the character making decisions that drive the plot. Its one that sci fi writing at the time seemed to do quite often with a lot (but not all) female characters. Ivanova and Talia from Babylon 5 fall victim to this too, especially in early seasons. In contrast, Major Kira, and even Ezri Dax later on have stronger characterisation and are the centre of their own stories.
I doubt this was intentional, its clear through the successes of writing other characters in the show that the writers, actors, and showrunners are trying to make everyone alive and meaningful, so what went wrong?
Looking at Jadzia Dax's character, I think what's clearly missing is a strong drive for her character. No real desires or vulnerabilities. No questions either. To provide constrasting examples:
Odo (who gets almost too much screen time in season 1) is clearly driven by a sense of justice no matter whatever starfleet rules say. He's in constant conflict with Quark, ever vigilant, somewhat isolated from other people. No one ever asks "Why does Odo do what he does?" His motivations are clear, and they even tie it up with an extra motive that's very plot relevant: the mystery of where he comes from. All things a single episode writer can use and explore.
Major Kira has her own conflict with starfleet, her desire to do right by her own people, to get justice for Bajor, and always stand up for the underdog which creates really good stories as she struggles with her own values and constantly has to make choices that affect the story.
Bashir wants acclaim, accomplishment, romance, and also for everyone to like him. Quark wants profit without putting himself at risk. O'Brien wants to just do his job and go home to his family. Sisko wants to hold everything together with the responsibility of peace and reason on his shoulders while singlehandedly raising his son. Jake wants community, friends, and freedom in his life. Funnily enough Ezri Dax has far better drive. Trying to figure out what she wants in life, handling this enormous change and overwhelming personality, and her own lack of confidence that she's useful to anyone sometimes. She grows and changes more over the course of a season than we ever see in early seasons Jadzia.
What does Jadzia Dax want?
I think in attempting to make a wise 300 year old person who's seen everything, they accidentally wrote themselves into a corner. Jadzia has no strong motivations to do much at all. She does fine as a secondary character, and I love how her friendship with Sisko plays out on screen, but beyond being surprisingly enlightened about a lot of things as the result of age and experience there's no drive there.
And so no drive or motivation, and no stories told from her perspective. We have ourselves a problem.
I thought for a while if I could find a solution to the issue rather than just offer criticism. I originally tried writing an outline for an episode. Jadzia would be a fantastic protagonist for any wacky sci fi short story concept that required a scientist to explore, such as time travel paradoxes, simulations, weird space anomolies that do "plot relevant thing" that she would be perfectly posed to actually explore instead of "technobabble and tap console" until the problem is solved.
Then I decided that all we really needed to have a framework any writer could use is to establish a strong character motivation for her. Here's my shot at it.
Jadzia Dax, in harmony with seven lifetimes of experience, is an extremely competent twenty seven year old woman. She can almost certainly do the job of anyone on the station better than they can. Fix a computer? Better than O'Brien can. First aid? She's there and solved the issue before Julian can get there. Solve a murder? A past host was an invesigator of course she can to Odo's chagrin. She has better ideas of what Sisko can do to bring the Bajorans towards the federation. Hell she's the best representative of federation values on that station and could constantly be presenting that of the story.
Dax struggles to hold herself back when she sees her friends failing at what she can solve the problem for them. She tries not to, that's what her training tells her to do. But out here on the edge of Federation space where there's constantly lives on the line? She finds herself interfering in other people's work more and more often. She just doesn't want it do be done wrong. She pushes herself hard to do too many jobs. She doesn't sleep or eat enough while telling everyone else to take care of themselves better. After a while people start relying on her. It turns from her helping to her having those responsibilities. Pilot. Diplomat. Linguist. Researcher. Mechanic. Leader. So much emotional support for her friends because everything they're suffering she's been through herself. It becomes too much for her and you could make the core of one story her just crashing. Learning how to balance her experience with giving room to other to shine through and solve their own problems, which they're very capable of doing. There's plenty more detail to elaborate on but I think this gives a core drive and conflict that lasts a character a couple of seasons at least to explore and grow through.
I happily invite thoughts as to whether my original observations are astute, or wether you think there aren't any problems with how Jadzia's passivity plays out in the show. If you think there are problems, do you think my perscribed solution helps fix them? How would you go about it?
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soulmvtes · 11 days
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dif anon. you’re so valid about being allowed to have your opinions on ts and her songwriting but saying that it has never been her strongest appeal is truly insane and i'm fully saying this as a casual listener. i study literature and i've had definitely more than a few courses about her composition and writing process and i feel the hate train on stuff she decides not to speak about (even if it benefits her or not, because i believe she doesn’t owe shit to anyone on that department) on her is just so unnecessary at this point of her career that most people (ngl including you) don’t even try to see beyond the basics and surface on her lyricism and is so wild to me that random individuals just comment on her as if she wasn’t a genuine ally of serious literature but well, that’s just me hah :) id be lying if i say she has some cringey lyrics here and there but it’s the bare minimum because even on her earlier albums she’s been putting exceptional wording to express her feelings and emotions all at once.
i have to disagree with you on literally all of this. in my experience of ts like growing up listening to her, her lyricism really hasn't been her strongest appeal (which is not to say she doesn't have good lyrics at times!!! i think ur misunderstanding me bc i have said that her lyrics can be really good at times even in earlier albums) - i think definitely in more recent times there's been more of a focus on it but still, when i have thought about her and her music i have just never ever associated her with Good lyricism (which isn't a bad thing?) so i'm not sure if it's bc you are a fan/you listen to her a lot so it's more meaningful to you or what else you listen to (which i'm not saying in a mocking way at all) but i just can't see that as her entire thing personally. i study literature too so it's fair to say we have had very different experiences in terms of viewing her lyricism in that regard. i completely disagree that she doesn't owe anyone anything in speaking out about things tho, she definitely should use her reach and sway esp when its clear she picks and chooses. personally an artist means nothing to me if they can't engage with the material world around them. that doesn't mean they are required to be well versed on every single thing and make some kind of stance on everything but it's so clear which kind of lives and issues and people she values and i think that matters more to people (such as me) than her lyricism which people are often willing to look behind.
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There's something more going on with the Tanizaki siblings.
When I first watched the show I thought their weird pseudo-incest was just gross anime humor, but after reading/watching as much as I have its clear bsd isn't really like that.
I can't think of many examples of bsd being typical anime gross for no reason, even with Mori, its used to hammer home just how disgusting of a person he is and make him seem even more sinister.
Also its not just some background detail, its central to Junichiro's character and a lot of effort is put into showing that. When he's not around Naomi he acts nervous and shy but still kind and just seems like a normal guy.
however the moment Naomi is put in any kind of danger he switches completely, turning into someone so sinister that even mafia enforcers are shocked by his blood lust.
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This isn't just determination to protect his family, its an overwhelming urge to destroy everything that might be a threat to her.
Naomi herself is also interesting, when she's not around or talking about her brother, she's clever, kind and determined. she keeps a cool head when her and Haruno are being chased by the guild and even is able to outwit them a few times, she also picks up on Steinbeck's love for his sister and immediate try's to manipulate him into letting them goby exploiting it.
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She takes a lot after Dazai, using observation and manipulation. in The Untold Origins light novel they even work together. I wish we got to see more of this side of her, but the moment she's around her brother she is completely fixated on him in a really creepy way.
They're almost defiantly not related by blood, Atsushi even points out that they look nothing alike, they also are heavily implied to be sleeping together which makes the whole pretending to be siblings thing even weirder.
I don't really have a conclusion here but I just wanted to put all the evidence in one place.
maybe Naomi is a manifestation of Tanizakis skill since we have seen him create solid holograms before. (like when Hirotsu was able to touch one and activate his ability) so maybe she is a secret aspect of his skill.
who knows, what do you guys think?
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bridgyrose · 2 months
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Weiss, Yang and Blake find out Ruby is dying of an incurable disease. What would be their reactions?
Ruby panted as she dropped out of her semblance, falling to her knees and letting go of her scythe. Her hands shook as she struggled to keep her breath, vision starting to blur as she watched her friends fight the grimm they were assigned to destroy. Once her vision started to clear, she picked up her scythe and stood up, legs and arms shaking as she rushed towards the grimm to help. “Weiss! Use your ice dust to freeze them! Blake! Yang! Smash through them!” 
“Got it! Weiss yelled out as she slammed her rapier into the ground. 
Ice started to cover the ground around the grimm, freezing their feet as they struggled to get free. The few that were able to started to slip and slide around the ice, only for Yang to slam into them. A few grimm practically shattered from the cold while others dissolved into ash once their forms were broken. 
Ruby smiled a bit as she coughed, covering her mouth with her hand. She paused for a moment when she saw black and red blood on her hand, quickly wiping it away. One more mission, that’s all she wanted. It didnt matter how much worse her condition got, all she wanted was to do one more mission and then she might tell her team about what was going on. With one more slash of her scythe, she sliced through the last of the grimm, propping herself up against her scythe. “That’s… that’s the last of them…” 
“You okay, Rubes?” Yang asked.
“I’m… fine,” Ruby lied as she put up a smile and straightened herself up. “This was a more intense mission than I thought. But now that we have that out of the way, we can start making our way back home-” 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Blake interrupted. “Normally you’re running circles around us after a mission like this and ready to go for another.” 
Weiss nodded, then paused. “Now that I think about it, you spent a lot more time behind us today than racing to take out the grimm.” 
Ruby felt her legs start to struggle to keep her standing as she leaned against her scythe again. She hadnt realized how much she needed to cough until she found herself in a coughing fit, turning away from her teammates as she tried to hide the blood that covered her hand. The world started to spin again for her as she wiped her hands against her skirt, the smile she wanted to put up fading as she looked at her concerned teammates. “I-I’m just… just a little sick. Nothing more.” 
Blake sighed and propped Ruby up a bit. “This seems more than just ‘a little sick’.” 
Ruby looked away as she felt her legs give out for a moment, only being propped up by Blake until her legs started to work again. She could feel the stares of disbelief of her teammates as she managed to steady herself. Months of hiding everything going out the window on a single mission. “Can… can we talk about this at home? O-or at the inn?” 
“Why cant you tell us now?” Yang asked. 
“Because I want to be somewhere a bit more… comfortable.” Ruby pulled herself away from Blake and started to walk back to the village, using her scythe as a crutch. “I’ll tell you everything there, but I want to turn in our mission first.” 
“You better tell us.” 
“I-I will.” Ruby nearly lost her footing for a moment, only to be caught by Weiss with a glyph. It almost felt insulting that she had to rely on her team to help her walk just a few miles back to the village, but it wasnt unexpected. Especially after a few rough missions. A grateful sigh left her lips as she entered into the bedroom of the inn, nearly falling onto the bed as her legs gave out under her. 
Blake shut the door and locked it behind her. “Ruby, what’s going on?” 
Ruby sat up and sighed a bit as she looked away from her teammates. “I… I’m dying.” 
Yang frowned, then sighed as she sat down next to Ruby. “What exactly do you mean you’re dying?” 
“The doctors… they think its a type of cancer, but…” Ruby leaned back and took a deep breath to calm the tremors in her hand. “But they cant find a tumor. O-or any other reason that my body seems to be shutting down. And at this point I cant tell if its the strain from using my silver eyes, or… or if its something that the Ever After did to me.” 
“Why didnt you tell us?” Yang asked, slightly annoyed. “This is something we should know about.” 
“And if you’re this sick, then maybe its time to retire,” Weiss added. 
Ruby frowned and tried to get up. “This is why I didnt want to tell you!” She paused as she felt her head spin for a moment until she could keep herself steady. “I-I know you all mean well and that there’s no shame in retiring, but I… I wanted to spend time with you all.”
Blake cocked a brow. “And you thought hiding all of this and pushing yourself was the answer?” 
“N-no, not… exactly that. I… I was fine a couple years ago. It started with a bad cough, some aches here and there, light-headedness after using my semblance… annoying but manageable. Its only been over the last three years that everything has gotten… worse. And it would’ve gotten this bad whether I pushed myself or not. So, instead of making you guys worry about me, I… I kept telling myself that I was okay and could keep up.” 
“I thought we were past this!” 
Ruby flinched as Yang stormed out of the room, slamming the door. She slowly sat down, feeling Blake’s hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “I… I didnt…” 
“I’ll go calm her,” Blake said as she got up. 
Ruby watched as Blake followed Yang, starting to feel guilty for keeping everything a secret from her team. All she wanted was to do things on her own terms and not how others wanted. 
“How… how long do you have left to live?” Weiss asked quietly. 
“The doctor said maybe another two or three years the last time I went to see him and that was-” Ruby pulled out her scroll to check when her last doctor appointment was. “-a little over six months ago. So, maybe another year and a half or so.” 
“Ruby-” 
“I know, I should’ve told you guys sooner, but I didnt want to deal with you all telling me how to handle this. Besides, this was my last mission. Even if I wanted to go for another one, I cant. Once we get back to Vale, I’m retiring.” 
“And then you’re resting, right?” 
“I… I dont know.” Ruby sighed and leaned against Weiss, starting to doze off. “Maybe rest, maybe do everything else on my bucket list.” 
Weiss nodded and rubbed Ruby’s back as she dozed off. “Please rest. I… you’ve helped Penny once before, and I think we can help you the same way.”
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boltupbitches · 3 months
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The Great Outdoors
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A week in the great outdoors sounded idealistic until reality set in. Hiking didn’t just mean scenic views and fresh air. It also meant insects, mud, sweat, dirt somehow getting into unimaginable places, poison oak and poison ivy, and the possibility of getting lost on a trail and being eaten by a brown bear or mountain lion. 
Maria didn’t know which possibility would be worse of the latter, but she knew she had to suck it up for Justin’s sake. Her boyfriend was beyond excited to bring her to Oregon, particularly Eugene, to meet his family and close friends. Justin spoke so highly of the nature trails and parks that littered the region. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she wasn’t the outdoorsy type. 
The morning of the hike, Justin had taken her to one of his favorite diners he went to as a kid. They laughed and talked over stacks of pancakes and bacon as the waiter attempted to ply them with refills of water and orange juice. Justin was well-known around here - that was a given. The older waitress (Peggy was her name) doted on him as if he were her own son.
“I’m so glad you all stopped by here. It’s always good to see you, Justin. Please tell your mom I said ‘hello’. I’m sure she’s happy you brought such a beautiful girl home with you.” 
Maria couldn’t stop grinning at the exchange as Justin’s face flushed beet red with embarrassment.
“I’ll let her know you said ‘hi’, Peggy.” He handed her a folded $100 bill with a small smile as the older woman gave him a gentle squeeze on his shoulder and turned to wink at Maria.
“Great meeting you, dear. Keep him out of trouble!” She jokingly cautioned as she set off to her other table that just had people seated with menus. 
Maria thought about that exchange as she struggled up the path Justin decided on. He was lucky she loved him so much to be in this current predicament. Her legs were not as long as his so Justin had to slow down anytime he picked up pace unconsciously. He didn’t complain at all.  She also was sure she could no longer feel her calves from the last mile they walked. Being eaten by bears or mountain lions was starting to sound better with each passing minute.
Don’t even get her started on the insane amount of gear they were carrying because Justin was a meticulous man who was prepared for anything. That included a bandana he packed for each of them.
She mistakenly assumed it was for if they sweat too much.
Justin just grinned and said, “Nope. It’s what we’ll use in place of toilet paper.” He held up the plastic back labeled ‘waste’. “We’ll put the rags in here when we’re done.”
“Oh.” She almost gagged, “That’s… that’s convenient.”
Maria didn’t consider herself a high-maintenance girl. Not by a long shot. But as someone who grew up in urban spaces her whole life, this was extremely out of her comfort level and understanding. She was just thankful Justin didn’t make fun of her novice information on the great outdoors. If anything he was like an eager boy scout, eager to point out everything he knew. 
Even in her miserable state, she couldn’t bear to snap at him when he stopped them to observe a yellow-bellied marmot that was scaling around a large rock, likely trying to find its burrow to return to.
When they reached a clearing on a cliff, he finally declared it was time for a rest and some lunch. Maria almost cried out “thank God” as she dropped her bag next to her as she leaned in exhaustion against a rock.
Justin was drinking from his huge canteen as he observed his exhausted girlfriend. She was digging the beef jerky from her bag as she ate ravenously, not even caring about manners in that moment. “Thanks for coming out here with me,” he said softly, his eyes shining with happiness at the sight of her. “Honestly, it means a lot to me. I know it’s out of your comfort level but you’ve been a huge champ.”
Maria smiled after gulping down the mouthful of chewed jerky. “Of course. It meant a lot to you. I wanted to spend the day doing what you wanted to do with being back home.”
Justin walked over to her and leaned down to press a kiss against her lips, not at all minding the salty and savory taste of beef jerky on her lips. He leaned back and pressed one more kiss to her sweaty forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She hummed back with her own matching smile.
They set about eating their lunch and quietly taking in the beautiful scenery around them. This is what Maria had in mind for a hike. She was glad to at least get this view. It was ethereal. It was beautiful. She felt like she was in heaven. 
To be away from the constant noise of civilization and to just hear the beautiful noises of the breeze moving through the trees, the luscious grass gently dancing in that same breeze, and the sunlight spilling through as it encroached on shadowy spaces underneath the towering trees.
Justin put his arm around her and pulled her into him as he pressed another kiss to her temple. “I wish I could stay here forever with you.” He murmured against her ear.
“Me too…” She thought for a moment, “Well, maybe just right here the walk back will be hell and I am afraid of half the things that live in the forest here.” She admitted.
Justin laughed at that and said, “I figured. You’ve been a frazzled mess since we started this hike. I was so concerned you were going to pitch yourself off the nearest cliff if we hadn’t made it to the clearing when we did.”
“Glad my misery amuses you,” She said flatly.
“It does.” He grins as he lets her smack him in the stomach, barely feeling it. “But your happiness makes me happy too.”
She ‘hmphed’ at him and pretended to pout. 
Justin just looked at her in amusement. “Wait until we go on a hike again tomorrow! More altitude and better views.” He was egging her on.
She took the bait. “Absolutely not! I’ll stay home with your mom instead.”
“Awww don’t be like that.” He urged. “It’s good exercise.”
“So is a treadmill on fat burn mode. I’m good. If the trail isn’t flat, I’m not interested. I’d rather let a bear eat me out here.”
“Dramatic.”
“I am - you knew that when you got with me, Mr. Social Media Quarterback.”
“Love you too, Maria.”
Maria couldn’t help but smile and notice how carefree Justin was now that he was back home. It was refreshing. The tenseness he usually carried in LA during the regular season was a lot that he shouldered. Here? He was just Justin Herbert, a man who loved football and the outdoors. Someone who tipped waitresses generously at small diners he grew up patroning. A man who was a walking encyclopedia of flora and fauna knowledge as he quietly pointed out each animal and plant they passed.
He was so endearing and everything she ever wanted in a man. She felt so lucky he trusted her enough to show her this part of him, the real him. As she looked at him, admiring the freckles on his face, she knew he was someone she could see herself spending the rest of her life with. Even if it meant going on the occasional hike to see this side of him.
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