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pedrospatch · 1 year ago

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to hell and back l two

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l main masterlist l next chapter

summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. canon violence, canon language, reader has a flashback, mentions of slavers, implied threat of assault, guns, reader gets groped, reader has a panic attack, a lot of angst, trauma. soft Joel, protective Joel, and i even threw in some domestic Joel because just imagine that old man making you a nice lil late night snack. 🥹 i think i got most of the major warnings out of the way, i’m sorry if i missed anything!

Word Count: 8.7k

Smoke was coming off my jacket

and you didn’t seem to mind

I left a long trail of ashes and

you said, I like your style

California l Spring, 2023

Your hand trembled slightly as you gripped your pistol and aimed it at his chest.

You’d never pointed your gun at another human being before. At least not one that was still alive.

“Hey now, it’s alright. You can trust us.”

Anxiously, you glimpsed from the man who had just spoken to the woman who stood beside him.

Surely the two had to be related. Both possessed the same fiery red hair, a face full of freckles, and vivid green eyes. They stood before you with their weapons lowered in an attempt to show you that they weren’t a threat to your safety.

The man, who had to be in his mid to late thirties, moved to step forward, but halted in his tracks when he caught sight of the way your finger had twitched over the trigger. “My name is Mark,” he said, carefully gesturing to himself with his free hand. In his opposite hand, he clutched his rifle, an assault style weapon that made your gun look like a fucking toy in comparison. Still, it was you who had the upper hand, at least for now. “This here is my sister. Her name is Jessa.” He paused and when you said nothing, he asked, “Can you tell us your name?”

Chewing your bottom lip, you shook your head at him in response.

You didn’t trust them.

Not quite yet.

Jessa, who was younger and looked to be closer to your own age, offered you a kind smile. “That’s alright. You don’t have to tell us your name until you feel comfortable.” She took a look around at the small, makeshift camp that you had made for yourself. “Are you all by yourself, sweets?”

You quickly wracked your brain.

“No,” You fibbed. “I’m with my father. He should be back any minute now. He’s armed and he does not take all too kindly to strangers, so you’d best be on your way before he sees you.” You added in a steadier tone, “He won’t even think twice. He’ll just kill you on the spot, so you better leave right now. Or else.”

Amused, Mark let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, come on now, dollface. You don’t have to lie to us,” he stated, shaking his head. “Let’s try this again and let’s be honest this time, alright? How long have you been alone?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed harshly.

Fuck.

He had seen right through the bullshit threat.

“For about three or four days now,” You admitted, your shoulders sagging in defeat. “I was with my father and my sister. The three of us were on our way up north. We were trying to get to Seattle to the quarantine zone, but then they were—”

You suddenly stopped.

It felt like someone had driven their fist right into your gut, knocking all the wind out of your lungs and hindering your ability to speak.

You couldn’t even say it out loud.

Gruesome images of them being torn apart limb from limb flashed through your mind. Bile slowly started climbing its way up your throat and your stomach churned violently.

You were going to be sick.

“Are they both dead?” Mark questioned you.

You nodded, whispering shakily, “Yes.”

Jessa frowned. “I’m so sorry for your loss, honey. If it’s any consolation, me and Mark know exactly how it feels. We lost our entire family about three years ago. It’s the hardest thing we’ve ever been through.” Swinging back her own rifle behind her, she approached you and reached out, placing her hand over yours—the one that was still clutching your weapon. She didn’t even so much as flinch at the way the barrel was now pointed at her, how it was just an inch or two away from her chest. It didn’t seem to faze her that all it would take was you bringing your index finger down a bit harder on the trigger and she would be dead. “We know you must be fucking terrified, but it’s okay. You can trust us. We’re good, honest people and we just want to help you. But we can’t do that if you try and kill us, now can we?”

Slowly, Jessa guided you to lower your gun. She then looked over her shoulder, exchanging a look with her brother, as if asking him to back her up.

“Yeah. She’s right. We just want to help you,” he repeated after her. “We aren’t going to hurt you. If we wanted to, we probably would have by now, don’t you think so?”

You let out a tiny breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding and loosened your iron grip on your pistol.

He did make a fair point.

Now that your gun was pointed at the ground, he could have easily killed you. And yet, he’d made no move to blow your fucking head off.

Maybe they really were good people.

But what if they weren’t?

What if it was just a trap?

You didn’t know what to fucking think.

All you knew was that you were so helplessly lost now that your family was gone.

You were afraid.

Alone.

Jessa turned back to you. “Listen, we’re part of a settlement,” she informed you. “It’s not all too far from here, maybe six or seven miles tops. We’ve got a really big group of people and we’re always looking to bring in anyone in need. Come with us, sweets. There’s plenty of food, water, and we can you into some fresh, clean clothes too. How does that sound?”

You momentarily hesitated, still unsure whether or not you could trust the two strangers.

How did it sound?

It sounded too fucking good to be true.

“It’s a safe place,” Mark assured you from behind her. He could see the reluctance written all over your face.

“It’s as safe as safe can be,” Jessa promised. She touched your arm and flashed you another smile, one that was more kind than the first—one that was so comforting it made you feel like you could actually trust her. “So? What do you say? Will you come back with us? Will you let us help you?”

You nervously bit the inside of your cheek.

Scared, starving, and exhausted, their offer for a safe haven was much too tempting to decline.

Besides, how long could you possibly survive out here all on your own?

“Alright,” You finally agreed after a moment. “I’ll come with you.”

“There’s just one condition,” Mark stated, falling into step beside his sister in front of you. “We’re going to need you to hand over your weapon.”

“What?” You stared at him. “Why?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s protocol,” he said, waving a hand dismissively at you. “It’s purely for safety reasons. Anyone who comes into our group must surrender their weapons. We want to be sure that we’re bringing in someone who isn’t going to be a threat to our people. We have children, so we just want to be cautious, you know?”

“I guess that does makes sense,” You admitted.

“You’ll get it back,” Jessa reassured you. “Once you speak to the council and they determine you aren’t a threat, you’ll get your gun back. Okay?”

Left with very little choice, you agreed. “Okay.”

Mark held out his hand for the weapon.

Slowly, you placed your pistol in his open palm.

“Perfect.” Jessa chirped. “Now grab your things and let’s get going. If we hurry up, we can make it back before nightfall.”

Nodding, you turned around to grab your pack.

The second you turned your back, the barrel of the same gun you’d just handed to Mark poked you between your shoulder blades and you froze, your blood running cold in your veins.

“Hands up, bitch,” Jessa commanded. Her warm and friendly tone had vanished. “And turn around towards me slowly. Now.”

Terrified, you did as you were told and you lifted both of your hands, turning around on the heel of your sneaker to face her.

Her expression, much like her tone, was frigid.

Hostile.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say when I say it.” She held up her rifle, aiming it at you. “And if you don’t, you fucking die. Do you understand?”

“Please,” You choked out. “Don’t—”

“Do you fucking understand?” Jessa repeated in a hiss, her finger hovering over the trigger. When she was met with a small, meek nod, she turned to look at her brother. “Cuff her.”

Mark smirked. He tucked your gun away into the waistband of his jeans and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a pair of rusted handcuffs. He walked around and stood behind you, instructing, “Hands behind your back.” Once he had both of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to slip on the cuffs, tightening them so hard that the old oxidized steel dug painfully into your skin. “She’s a pretty one,” he murmured. As soon as he made certain the cuffs were securely fastened, he put a hand on your ass, groping it roughly. “Oh, you’re going to be popular with the guys, dollface. Kind of makes me want to break you in, right here and right now—give me a few minutes with her, Jess.”

Completely paralyzed with fear, all you could do was stand there in silence as his hands continued to roam your lower body, feeling you up through your jeans. He squeezed at your inner thigh, then brushed up over your zipper.

“Mark! That’s not what she’s for, you idiot,” Jessa reminded him, rolling her eyes. “Now quit fucking around and let’s start heading back to camp.”

She whirled around and started leading the way.

Mark grinned and pressed his mouth to your ear as he whispered in cruel reassurance, “Don’t you worry, now. I’ll get my chance with you—we’re all going to our chance with you.”

He grabbed you by your upper arm and roughly shoved you forward, leading you to what would inevitably be hell on earth.

Joel leans against the tree with his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes are fixed intently on you, carefully observing you from where he stands, more so out of concern rather than curiosity. Something isn’t right.

It’s late in the afternoon and the two of you had been about halfway into the six hour trek down south to Jackson when Joel offered to stop for a while, just long enough for the both of you to rest and take a quick breather, find a second wind before finishing the journey—but as he continues watching you, Joel starts to realize that perhaps stopping had done you much more harm than it’s done you good.

Just a few feet away from where he’s standing and keeping a watchful eye on you, you sit perched on top of a small, flat boulder hugging your knees up to your chest with both hands wrapped tightly around the grip of your pistol.

You’re in a trance like state, staring straight off into the distance at nothing in particular. Your face is completely blank. Emotionless. It appears that while all the lights are on, nobody is fucking home.

Squinting against the sunlight, Joel takes a closer look at you. He sees it so clearly, the faraway look in your eyes.

You are gone. You’ve checked out and completely disconnected from reality.

He would go as far as saying you’ve disconnected from this fucking planet.

You’re sinking, slowly drowning in some kind of thought or perhaps it was a memory—whatever it is that’s currently preoccupying your mind, it sure as hell isn’t anything good. He has no fucking clue how he’d managed to clock it so easily, so quickly, but Joel had sensed something was wrong the instant you’d drifted off.

The deeper you go and the further you lose yourself, the harder your hands clutch at your grin, the thin delicate skin on your knuckles stretching taught over the bones. It’s not until Joel notices the way your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as your breaths quicken, the way you start struggling for air, that he knows it’s time for him to intervene before you worsen and suffocate under the weight of whatever it is that’s sitting so heavily on you.

Pushing himself away from the tree, Joel begins to approach you, taking extra care so as not to spook you into turning your pistol on him and pulling the trigger in a moment of panic. He lifts both of his hands and holds them out in front of him. Cautiously, Joel makes his way over towards where you’re sitting on the boulder, his footsteps slow and careful.

“Hey,” he calls out to you, keeping his tone firm, but somehow still gentle as he tries to garner your attention. When you don’t even acknowledge him or his presence, he tries again, speaking a little bit louder. “Hey. S’okay. S’alright. Everythin’ is alright—come on back now.” Joel draws closer and closer to you, taking tiny step after tiny step on the steel toes of his worn, black leather boots. “S’alright, darlin’. I need you to come back to me now, okay? You ain’t where you think you are. You’re alright—”

The sound of a twig snapping underneath his boot startles you. Jumping to your feet, you aim your gun at him with shaking hands and wild, terrified eyes.

Even as your finger trembles over the trigger, Joel remains calm. “Hey, c’mon. Take it easy. S’okay. You’re alright. Look, it’s me. It’s just me and I ain’t gonna do anythin’ to hurt you,” he swears. He shows you his empty hands, hoping that you would be able to snap out of it and realize that he isn’t a threat. That you aren’t in any kind of danger. But as you hold your weapon, chest heaving as you panic, Joel knows it doesn’t matter that his hands are empty. It doesn’t make a fucking difference. He knows it isn’t him who is standing in front of you.

It’s someone else. Whoever you were seeing standing there in his place, it’s someone who had done god knows what to you. Joel has a gut wrenching hunch it had something to do with the marks he’d seen around your wrists back at the cabin. The mere thought of it is enough to send an unpleasant chill up and down the length of his spine.

Joel speaks again. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He feels the sudden urge to reach out for you, but knowing it would be unwelcome, he resists it. All he can do is try and use his words to bring you back to the present. Back to him. “Breathe. You’re safe. I need you to breathe, can you do that for me? Do you think you can breathe for me, darlin’?”

Somehow, his voice penetrates its way in through the thickness of the white fog that you’d been lost in. You had been stumbling around helplessly in it, desperately searching for a way through. Joel’s heavy, deep Southern drawl permeates the memory, causing the haunting images from that fateful day when your life had taken a sharp turn for the worst to dissolve into nothing.

“Just breathe. Nice and slow. Inhale through your nose, then out through your mouth. Easy does it.” Joel controls his own breathing, slowing it down to demonstrate. He inhales deeply through his nose and exhales slowly through his mouth.

You stare at him with wide eyes as you fight to get the rise and fall of your chest to match his. How the hell do you know what to do?

Joel can practically hear your question ringing in your mind amidst the chaos. “My kid, she gets these awful nightmares sometimes. Wakes up in a panic thinkin’ she’s somewhere else, somewhere she ain’t safe. So my brother’s wife, Maria, well she was kind enough to show me what to do whenever it happens. She taught me a couple different breathin’ techniques that help soothe Ellie and calm her down. Told me it helps if I do them with her,” he explains to you. He can tell that you’re now coming out of the worst of it and that you’re finally starting to get some oxygen back into your lungs. He lowers his hands. Your pistol is still aimed at him, but Joel trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t pull the trigger and blow his fucking head off. “C’mon, breathe. There we go. That’s it. Easy does it, now. In through your nose and out through your mouth, that’s it. That’s a good girl.”

It takes you a good minute or two, but your breaths fall into sync with his own and before you know it, the two of you are breathing together in harmony.

Oh. You’re not in California.

The man standing before you doesn’t have red hair and green eyes. He doesn’t have that twisted smirk on his face. He isn’t putting his hands on you. He’s not hurting you. He’s helping you.

Swallowing dryly, you lower your weapon. Your gaze meets Joel’s and somehow you find the courage to look him in his eyes for the very first time. Even though you had turned your gun on him, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it all. He isn’t upset or angry. The look of worry on his face has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you could have easily killed him just now. It’s as if he’d known for certain that you wouldn’t pull the trigger.

“There we go,” Joel says after another minute passes by. “You see? You’re alright. You’re safe.”

There’s comfort in his words, in his deep brown eyes.

Fuck, there’s comfort in him.

Still. Your mind refuses to allow you to accept it.

At least, not completely.

Averting your gaze, you shuffle your weight from one foot to the other and then back again.

Joel clears his throat lightly. “It’s gettin’ real late,” he murmurs. “We should get a move on. We’ve still got a bit of a way to go and we really don’t wanna get ourselves caught out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere after dark for too long, y’know?”

You give him a small nod and start to gather up your belongings. You pick up your canteen, which is now almost completely empty after you’d shared your water with him during the first leg of the hike, and shove it into one of the side pockets of your back.

“S’kinda cold,” Joel states. “And it’ll only get colder as nightfall approaches. You, uh—you warm enough in that little denim jacket?”

You shrugged a shoulder at him, not thinking anything much of the question. I’m fine.

However, as if on cue, a chilly breeze blows its way through Wyoming’s plains, causing you to shiver.

Joel quickly shrugs out of his brown jacket. “You mind if I—?”

You toss him a confused glance.

Do I mind if you what?

Joel steps towards you and lifts his arms as if he’s going to put them around you. Flinching, every muscle in your entire body goes rigid and he halts. “S’alright. I’m just gonna give you my jacket, that’s all,” he assures you, his arms frozen midair. He patiently waits for a small nod of approval. Once he has it, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and then takes several steps back, giving you your space. “Should keep you from freezin’ your ass off out here.”

As he turns around and walks over to where he had set his rifle down, you stand there somewhat stupefied over what he’d just done. Something so simple, and yet you can’t seem to wrap your fucking brain around it.

Willing yourself to move, you carefully slide both of your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, wrapping it around your body. The scent of him, a mixture of earthy sandalwood and whatever soap he uses to wash his clothes, fills your senses and a strange, but pleasant warmth radiates throughout your chest, gradually spreading itself to the rest of your body from head to toe.

Ignoring the feeling, you pick up your backpack along with your bow and quiver of arrows, slinging everything over your shoulders.

Joel slings the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and turns back to you. “Ready to get goin’?”

Pistol in hand, you gesture for him to go ahead and walk in front of you, much like he’d done for the first half of the trip.

He lets out a small sigh. “Alright, I get it. Still don’t fully trust me. Well, we’ll keep workin’ on that, then.”

A couple of hours had gone by. The slanting rays of the setting sun give a warm orange tinge to the skies as late evening begins settling itself in.

“Y’wanna know somethin’?” Joel asks, breaking the silence between you.

You look up at the back of his head, your eyes fixing themselves on his mop of thick, unkempt salt and pepper waves. Occasionally, as you’d been slowly trudging along behind Joel, you stole glimpses of the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck and brushed against the collar of his henley.

Despite the lack of a response, Joel continues to talk. “Earlier at the cabin, just when I was startin’ to come back around, I heard a woman singin’ to me. At least, it sure seemed like she was singin’ to me. It was a real pretty song too.” He glances over his shoulder at you with curiosity. “Was that you?”

You blink at him, keeping a straight face.

“Hm, no I s’ppose it wasn’t you,” he answers his own question. He turns his attention back to the path ahead of him. “I reckon that it must have just been some sorta dream I had while I was out cold. But it sounded so vivid, y’ know? It sounded so fuckin’ real. And the strangest part of it all is that I don’t know how it’s even possible for me to dream of a voice like that,” he muses aloud.

Oh? Unable to help yourself, you move yourself from behind Joel and fall into step beside him. Now it’s you that’s riddled with curiosity. What do you mean by that?

Joel glances down at you. He grips the leather strap of his rifle and shrugs his shoulders. “Well, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a voice quite like that in my whole entire life,” he tells you. He shrugs once more, his arm brushing against yours by accident. Joel half expected you to deck him for it, but much to his surprise, it doesn’t seem like his touch had bothered you. “It was too fuckin’ gorgeous. So beautiful that part of me wonders if it was someone or somethin’ out of this world.” He pauses and peered at you, detecting a slight glimmer of light in your eyes. “Felt like I had a real life angel singin’ to me.”

You feel the corners of your lips threatening to turn upwards into a smile. Turning your face away from him, it takes everything you had in you to force them back down.

“Well look at that. You’re walkin’ right next to me,” Joel observes after a minute, raising an eyebrow.

Your head whips back around.

“Must mean that I’m doin’ somethin’ right, huh darlin’?”

You snort and roll your eyes.

I think I liked it better when you weren’t talking.

Still, you remain at his side.

The rest of the trek is silent.

Night had just fallen by the time that you and Joel finally made it to Jackson. The moment that you set your sights on the massive wooden gate out in the distance, your heart begins to pound, slamming against your ribcage.

The closer the both of you draw to the barrier, the easier it is for you to see the men and women who are standing on a platform on top of the gate, heavily armed as they keep watch—their lights illuminate the perimeter of the settlement and light up the velvet purple sky.

You stop dead in your tracks. Oh fuck that.

Joel shakes his head. “S’alright. Don’t be scared.”

There’s six people standing on top of that gate armed with fucking assault rifles. And you don’t expect me to be scared? Are you for real?

“Look, things might be a little tense at first when the patrolmen see us,” he admits, raking a hand through his hair. “None of them have any idea that I’m still alive, but as soon as they see that it’s me, they’re gonna stand down. All I need is for you to stay calm and follow my lead, alright?” He nods at the pistol in your hand. “M’also gonna need for you to put your gun away and out of sight.”

You glare at him, your eyes flashing angrily in the darkness.

You said I could have my weapons on me.

Joel holds up his hand. “I promise that I ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you, alright? I swear it on my fuckin’ life,” he vows. “You have my word. No one’s gonna hurt you. I won’t let them. Just stay calm and do as I say. Please,” he adds, a hint of desperation lacing his tone. “Y’think you can do that for me?”

Your mind is screaming, begging you to run and run fast. Instead, you find yourself reluctantly tucking your gun into the waistband of your jeans, concealing it just like Joel had asked you to do.

“Stay behind me,” he instructs, shoving his own rifle behind him. He begins leading the way towards the gate and beckons for you to follow close.

The second the two of you step out from the darkness and into the light, the sound of firearms cocking breaks through the silence of the night.

“Stop right there!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Freeze! Or we’ll fucking shoot!”

“Melissa, it’s me!” Joel calls out, holding up his hands. “It’s Joel!”

“What?”

He huffs and yells again, “It’s Joel!”

“Wait a goddamn minute, everyone fucking stand down!” Melissa loudly barks the order at the five other patrol men and women who are standing on either side of her with their firearms aimed and at the ready. “Joel? Joel Miller, is that really you?” She leans her body forward over the gate and squints at him, letting out an incredulous laugh. “Well butter my fucking ass and call me a goddamn biscuit, the man is fucking alive! Quick, open up the gates! Somebody go and get Tommy! Let’s go, fucking move it people!”

Joel drops his hands, sighing in relief.

You, on the other hand, are scared shitless and wonder if it’s too late to make a run for it.

“Remember,” he says, looking back at you. “Calm. Okay?”

You force a small, tight nod of your head.

Okay.

The gate’s doors pull apart and he leads you up to them and through to the other side where you and Joel are met with a frantic crowd of at least two dozen people—the obnoxious, overlapping chatter coupled with the blatant stares you’re receiving cause an overwhelming feeling of anxiousness to wash over you in a massive wave that, if you allow it, is going to drown you right there on the spot. Refusing to make eye contact with anybody, you fix your gaze on Joel, keeping it focused on the broadness of his back as more and more people circle around the both of you, caging you in with nowhere to run.

“Joel!” Melissa elbows her way through the large crowd, rushing up to him. She grabs him by the arms, giving him a quick once over. “Holy shit! We thought you were fucking dead! I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Where’s Tommy?” Joel asks her.

“At home with Maria. Lisa went to pull him out of bed—where the hell have you been, Joel? It’s been three fucking days!”

Joel purses his lips together tightly. He can feel you inching yourself forward, trying to stand as close to him as possible as more people join the scene. The toes of your boots touch the heels of his, your chest lightly brushing against his back. While Joel doesn’t blame the people of the town for being curious, he isn’t all too fond of the way they’re staring at you—the gestures and the finger pointing, the mutters and the whispers. He doesn’t have to see you to know it’s making you uncomfortable, and his priority is to get you out of there and somewhere where you would feel safe. “Listen, it’s a real long story that I ain’t got time for right this minute. I need Tommy—”

“Miller!”

A loud, booming voice comes from behind Melissa.

It belongs to a tall, bulky blond haired man—his mere presence is intimidating, proven by how it had taken absolutely nothing for the crowd to part and make room for him to pass through. Smirking, he saunters up to Joel and remarks, “I thought you were a fucking goner.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, but he says nothing.

The tension between the two men could be sliced with a fucking machete.

His blue eyes flit over Joel’s shoulder to you. “Well, well, well. Who is this sweet little lady?”

You step even closer to Joel, pressing yourself against his backside and taking a fistful of his shirt.

“None of your fuckin’ business, that’s who.”

Keith’s smirk widens. “Actually, as head of safety and security for this community, it fucking is my business,” he reminds him. “She infected?”

Joel raises his eyebrows. “Does she look fuckin’ infected to you?”

“You know the commune’s rules, Miller.” Without tearing his eyes away from you, Keith calls over his shoulder, “Bring out one of the hounds! Now!”

Behind him, Joel hears a small gasp.

Hounds?

Joel whirls around. “Hey, s’alright,” he says quickly before you can start to panic. “We have dogs that have been trained to sniff out the cordyceps infection. S’just gonna smell you, that’s all.”

The crowd backs away as a woman with cropped hair brings out a large black dog on a chain leash attached to a brown leather harness. Once it catches sight of you, the unfamiliar newcomer, the animal begins to bark and growl, thrashing around as it tries to lunge towards you. The dog tugs and pulls at his leash so violently that he nearly knocks his handler over. The woman unclips the leash and sets the dog free—it approaches you, snarling and baring its teeth.

You start to back away, but Joel stops you.

“Relax,” he mutters to you under his breath. He moves to stand beside you and holds out his hand, offering it in an attempt to comfort you and ease the fear. He hadn’t expected you to accept it, so when you place your hand in his and lace your fingers with his own, he’s taken by complete surprise.

You squeeze his rough, calloused fingers as the dog comes closer towards you. Nervously, you hold your other hand out to it, prompting it to snap at you, its teeth snapping together. Somehow, you muster enough courage to hold your hand steady and the animal growls, but then gives it a sniff. When it doesn’t detect what it’s searching for, the dog happily wags his tail and gives your hand a friendly lick before running back over to its handler who puts the animal back on the leash.

You breathe out in relief.

“There,” Joel snaps at Keith. “You satisfied?”

Keith clicks his tongue. “Almost,” he drawls. He walks over to you, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “What’s your name, dollface?”

Your stomach drops at the nickname. Looking down at the dirt, you don’t reply.

“Aw, she’s shy! Well isn’t that just adorable.” Keith lets out a raspy laugh, causing a couple of the onlookers to laugh along with him. “What’s the matter, sweetie pie? Hm? Cat got your tongue?”

Joel drops your hand, his nostrils flaring. “Back off asshole or else—”

Ignoring him, the blond patrolman eyes the weapon hanging on your shoulder. “That’s a really nice bow you’ve got there,” Keith states, cutting off Joel’s threat. “But we do have rules here. Newcomers have to surrender their weapons so they can be stored away securely. We don’t know you and until we can know for sure you won’t be a threat to the people of this town, you’re going to have to surrender that bow along with all other weapons you’re carrying.” Keith lowers his voice as he adds, “And I would advise you not to try and hide anything because I’m going to be the one to pat you down—and I’ll be thorough. I don’t take all too kindly to liars, so keep that in mind.”

“You just threaten her in front of me?” Trying his hardest not to cause a scene with so many people watching the three of you, Joel keeps his voice low and quiet—but the sharp, dangerous edge to his tone can’t be missed.

“Of course I didn’t,” Keith responds, innocently. “All I was doing was letting her know how we work around here in Jackson. We’ve been operating the town the same way for years now for a good reason. The rules we set in place apply to any and all newcomers, regardless of who they came here with.” He holds out his hands to you. “Surrender all of your weapons to me. Now.”

Shaking your head, you take a step back. This was not what you’d agreed to. This wasn’t the promise that Joel had made you back at the cabin.

Joel glares at him. “She ain’t surrenderin’ a goddamn thing—”

It’s too late.

Keith steps towards you and goes for the bow. As his hand shoots out to take it from your shoulder, you quickly turn your body and swiftly dodge it. He feels his face burn with red hot anger as several onlookers gasp at your act of rebelliousness. Furious, Keith reaches for you again and grabs you, taking the upper part of your arm in a harsh grip that makes you squeak out in pain.

You lift your opposite arm and swing a curled fist up towards his face, but he catches your wrist in his other hand before it can connect with his jawline.

Joel!

You try to say his name, but you fucking can’t.

Your mouth opens and nothing comes out. For as hard you push and try to force it, you can’t find your voice. Instead, all that falls from your lips is a pathetic, strangled little cry. You yank and pull, struggling as you try to tear yourself out of Keith’s grasp.

Livid, Joel nearly goes fucking blind with rage. He snatches Keith by the collar of his leather jacket, ripping him away from you. Though he’s still sore as from the fall off of his horse three days ago, he uses every ounce of strength he has left in him to throw him down into the dirt at the feet of a fellow patrolman named Wyatt. “Don’t. Fuckin’. Touch. Her.” He barely manages to bite out the words through gritted teeth. “Ever.”

Wyatt helps him up to his feet. “You alright, man?”

“Get the fuck off me!” Keith snarls, pushing him away. His chest is heaving and his face turns a deep shade of red. Whether it’s because he’s embarrassed or if it’s because he’s angry, no one can quite tell the difference. One thing is for damn sure, he isn’t used to someone going against his authority and everyone watching holds their breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do next. After all, the man going against him happened to be their leader’s brother in law. “What the fuck is your goddamn problem, Miller? It’s protocol—”

“Not today it ain’t.”

Keith approaches him, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. He stands so close that the two of them are chest to chest, ready to tear each other to shreds. “Do you think just because your fucking brother is second in command, you can just do as you please? Is that it?” He questions, bitterly. “It doesn’t fucking work like that. We have rules set in place for a reason, Joel. We are going to do this by the fucking book whether your little girlfriend here likes it or not, got it?”

Stepping around him, he starts towards you but Joel is quick to block his path. He stands in front of you and squares his shoulders.

He speaks, his voice dangerously low. “You listen and you listen good. If you even so much as think about layin’ another fuckin’ finger on her, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of tonight pickin’ up your teeth off the ground. You understand me?”

“That a threat?”

“It ain’t a threat. It’s a fuckin’ promise.”

Keith pulls his arm back and he’s about ready to take a swing when he’s stopped by the sound of Tommy Miller’s frantic voice.

“Joel! Where is he—where the fuck is Joel?”

The much younger, raven haired man approaches the scene, shrugging a blue denim jacket over his cotton white t-shirt. The instant that he spots Joel, he runs up to him and throws his arms around his shoulders. “Fuckin’ Christ, I thought I fuckin’ lost you out there! What the hell happened?”

“Where’s Ellie?” Joel demands. “She okay?”

“She’s fast asleep at my place with Maria and the baby. She’s been with us this entire time.”

Joel’s shoulders sag in relief.

Tommy looks around, frowning. “What’s going on? What’s everyone doin’ out here?” He then sees you and raises his eyebrows at his older brother. “Joel? Who’s that?”

“Look, I’ll explain everything, can we just—can we talk in private?”

Although he’s confused, Tommy nods.

“Of course. C’mon, let’s go back to my place.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Tommy states as soon as Joel had finished recounting the story—well, what he could remember, anyway. It wasn’t much.

You’re sitting beside Joel across the table from Tommy and Maria in the kitchen of their home. All three of them speak in quiet, hushed voices so as not to wake Ellie and Samuel, Tommy and Maria’s infant son. Maria had offered to go upstairs to pull Ellie out of bed so that she and Joel could reunite, but when Tommy mentioned tonight had been the first night since Joel had gone missing three days ago that she had finally managed to fall asleep, everyone agreed it would be best to wait until the morning.

“So, she saved your life,” Tommy concludes. His brown eyes, even darker than those of his older brother, flicker over to you once again. You sit there in complete silence, staring at the top of the wooden table, refusing to meet his gaze—or that of his wife.

Joel nods. “She did, Tommy. I don’t fuckin’ know how, but what I do know is that if it wasn’t for her, then I wouldn’t be sittin’ here at this table right now.”

You shuffle uncomfortably in your chair. Though the couple had been kind to you, it didn’t make it any easier when they stared at you like you had a second head.

“She saved your life and you don’t even know her name?” Tommy’s in complete disbelief.

“No. She doesn’t talk.”

Maria hums. “I have an idea. Let me find her a notepad or something to write on,” she suggests after a minute. She stands up, wrapping her cotton blue robe around herself, concealing her pajamas as she walks over to the kitchen counter. It takes her a bit of digging around, but in one of her junk drawers, she finds a pen and a small notepad. She makes her way back over to the table and sets the items down in front of you. “Can you write down your name for us?”

You don’t move a single muscle.

“It’s okay, honey. Just write down your name—”

“Best we don’t push her too much,” Joel warns her, holding out his hand to stop her from coming too close into your space.

You glance up at him, your lips parting slightly.

“Don’t worry,” he tells you. “You ain’t gotta tell us anythin’ until you’re good and ready. Alright?”

Tommy clears his throat. “Joel? Can me and you have a quick word in private please?”

Your heart skips an anxious beat.

No, wait! Please don’t leave me.

Less than eight hours ago, you’d been wary of this man, unable to fully trust him. Now, just the mere thought of him leaving your side puts you on edge.

“S’fine, we’re just gonna be out in the hallway,” he assures you. “It’ll only be for a minute or two.”

Realizing you didn’t want to be left alone with her, Maria jabs a thumb over her shoulder towards the gas powered stove. “I’m going to make myself a hot cup of chamomile tea. I can boil water for an extra mug if you’d like some?” she offers, warmly.

You’d turned down food and water already, much too afraid to accept anything from her. However, a warm drink did sound tempting and truth be told, Maria did seem like a nice woman. She’s Joel’s family—maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at the very least try and trust her too.

Finally, you nod your head.

“Great,” Maria smiles, looking pleased. “I think it’ll do you some good. Chamomile is very soothing. It helps me relax—something that’s hard to do when you have a fussy six month old,” she kids as she whirls around and goes about preparing the tea.

After making certain that you’ll be fine without him, Joel follows Tommy out into the hallway.

“Joel, what were you thinkin’ bringing her here?”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Tommy sighs. “We need to be careful about who we bring into Jackson—”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me right now? You worried about this girl bein’ a threat?” Joel stares at him in complete shock. “You serious, Tommy?”

“For all we know, she could be a threat. She didn’t want to give up her weapons, Joel! She even took a swing at Keith!” He hisses. “And she did it in front of a fuckin’ crowd!”

“He put his fuckin’ hands on her—”

“She didn’t cooperate, Joel. You know damn good and well what happens when someone isn’t willin’ to cooperate with the rules. It leads to nothin’ but trouble and you know it as well as I do,” Tommy says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Her first impression here wasn’t a good one. And to make matters a whole lot worse, we don’t know anythin’ about her. It’s a risk takin’ her into the community.”

Joel can’t even believe what he’s hearing.

“So you’d rather I just left her out there alone?”

“Look Joel, we don’t know what she’s capable of,” Tommy reminds him, quietly. “If she’s managed to survive out there all on her own for this fuckin’ long, then who the hell knows what she’s done or what kind of blood is on her hands—you might be thinkin’ that she’s some helpless little victim, but maybe she’s not. Hell, we’ll never know because the girl can’t fuckin’ talk. Or maybe she just won’t talk. Either way, we’re runnin’ a huge risk by takin’ her in without knowin’ who the hell she is or where she came from.”

Joel glares at him. “Listen here, whether she can’t talk or just won’t talk, that doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” he says. He pauses briefly, long enough to take a peek back into the kitchen where you’re still sitting at the table. After she’d finished making the tea, Maria took the two steaming mugs and sat down in the chair beside you. She’s now trying almost desperately to get you to write down your name on the notepad. He immediately notices the way that you’d started wringing your hands together anxiously in your lap and he knows you’re debating in your mind whether or not you should reveal your identity to the stranger. He turns back to his brother with a frown. “She ain’t a helpless victim. She’s a survivor. She saved my fuckin’ life out there, Tommy. If it weren’t for her, I would be dead right now.”

“And where is she gonna stay?”

“With me and Ellie, of course.”

Tommy almost laughs. “Wait. You’re gonna be in charge of her? Someone who won’t fuckin’ talk to you? Whose name you don’t even know? Are you serious?”

Joel doesn’t even think twice about it. “Yeah.”

“Look Joel, I know you can be kind of a fuckin’ dumbass, but you can’t possibly be this goddamn dumb, big brother. Think ‘bout it—”

“I already have thought about it. She’s stayin’ with me.” Joel shrugs. “I know it ain’t gonna be easy, but maybe I can get her to trust me enough to talk to me.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “You really think she can talk and she’s just choosin’ not to?”

“I think she wants to talk, but she can’t. She’s too scared right now. But if I can get her to really trust me—”

“That girl ain’t gonna fuckin’ trust you, Joel.”

“She trusted me enough to come to Jackson,” he says, fiercely. “That has to mean somethin’, I just know it does.”

Tommy exhales a long and heavy sigh. He already knew just how fucking stubborn his brother could be. There’s no changing Joel’s mind once it was made up.

Maria steps out into the hallway. “No luck,” she tells them, shaking her head lightly. “I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s been through. If she’s too terrified to even give us her name—”

“It must’ve been somethin’ real bad,” Joel finishes for her. He places his hands on his hips. “I think I might have some idea of what happened to her.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Joel lowers his voice as he briefly tells Tommy and Maria about the scars he’d seen around your wrist. “Like she’s been in handcuffs or somethin’,” he murmurs. “Think it could’ve been FEDRA?”

“Possibly.” Maria thinks it over for a moment. “There’s also a good possibility that she’s been a prisoner in a slave camp.”

Slavers.

Joel’s stomach churns at the thought of it. He’d heard about those kinds of groups, about the cruel and inhumane things they did to their prisoners.

He fucking hoped that wasn’t it. But something in his gut told him not to be so goddamn naive.

“Listen, we feel for the girl, Joel. We do,” Tommy admits. “And we’re willin’ to give her some time to adjust, same as we did with you and with Ellie—same as we do with all newcomers. But regardless of what she’s been through, she’s still gonna need to pull her weight around here, just like the rest of us. She’s expected to take on work duty just like everybody else. It’ll be hard findin’ the right job for her if she’s not gonna talk to anyone so the sooner you can get her to break her silence, the better it’ll be,” he advises. He points a finger at his brother. “From this point on, she’s your responsibility.”

“I can handle it, Tommy.”

“For your sake, I really hope you can.”

“Good to know you’ve got faith in me,” Joel makes the sarcastic comment under his breath, but he’s certain Tommy had heard it. “It’s gettin’ pretty late now. She’s exhausted and so am I. M’gonna take her back to my place and get her settled in for the night.”

“What ‘bout Ellie?”

“Best she just stays here with you two tonight. As soon as she’s up in the mornin’, you can bring her on over to mine if that’s alright with you and Maria?”

Tommy nods. “You got it, brother.”

“Besides, I figure it’ll give me a bit of extra time to think of how I’m gonna explain everythin’ to her.” Joel suddenly realizes that he hadn’t given much thought about how he was going to tell Ellie about you—how he was going to explain your condition to her and how you’d be sharing a roof with them from this point on.

Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, good luck with that one.”

Rolling his eyes, Joel roughly shoves past him and back into the kitchen.

You hadn’t drank the tea Maria had made you, but you’d wrapped your hands around the ceramic red mug to warm them up.

“C’mon,” he beckons to you with his hand. “Let’s go. M’gonna take you home now.”

Home.

The word rinds oddly in your ears.

You stand up from the table.

“Wait.” Maria picks up the notepad and pen, handing them over to you. “Here. Take these with you. Just in case you decide you want to use them.”

Joel pushes through the front door, switching on the lights in the foyer of his home before stepping aside to let you in. He watches as you stand there at the door looking rather apprehensive. “It’s okay, darlin’. S’just me and you here tonight.”

Carefully, you step over the threshold. When was the last time you’d even set foot in an actual house? One with running water and electricity?

You couldn’t remember.

Joel shuts the front door behind you and locks it. “Let’s go upstairs.” He gestures for you to follow him up the cherrywood staircase. “It’s pretty late, so I’ll show you the rest of the house tomorrow in the mornin’,” he promises you over his shoulder. At the top of the staircase, Joel switches on more lights that illuminate a short hallway. He points to a door at the end of it, stating, “That one there at the end, that’s mine. This one here is Ellie’s. We also have a third spare, it’s right across from her.” He nods with his head towards the door of the bedroom he’d been referring to. “Go on. Open it up and check it out for yourself.”

You want me to open the door?

Seeing your expression, Joel chuckles. “Go on. It’s alright. There’s nothin’ bad in there. I promise.”

You momentarily hesitate. Fingers trembling, you reach out and grasp the brass door knob, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. You peek inside and flip the light switch next to the door frame.

You gasp. Holy shit, is this fucking real?

The spare bedroom is fully furnished with light oakwood furniture—a dresser up against one wall, a desk nestled in the corner, and two nightstands on either side of the most comfortable, full sized bed that you’d ever seen. The décor is minimal, but whoever had occupied the space before had a clear adoration for simple, warm, earthy tones. You nearly smile at the shades of mud brown, forest green, and autumn orange. Setting your things down on the hardwood floor, you make your way over to the bed and sit down, planting your hands firmly on either side of you. You relish in the softness of the cream colored duvet comforter.

“I’m guessin’ you like it.” Joel can’t help but grin a little. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go see if I can get you one of my shirts or somethin’ that you can sleep in. Make yourself comfortable.” He spins around on the heel of his boot, disappearing into the hallway.

Unable to resist, you lay back onto the bed. Your body sinks into it, melting right into the mattress. It feels like a fucking cloud.

Joel reappears in the room just seconds later. “I can see you took what I said about makin’ yourself comfortable quite literally.” His voice causes you to shoot back up into a sitting position. Joel stands there at the door holding a long sleeved, navy and white flannel shirt in one hand—in the other, he’d been holding a gray hooded sweatshirt and from his arm swings a brown canvas tote bag. “Not too sure what you would prefer to sleep in. I figured you might want somethin’ on the warmer side. Here’s a couple options to choose from. I’ve also got t-shirts if you’d rather sleep in one of those.”

Standing up from the bed, you walk over to him and he holds out the articles of clothing for you to see better. It’s his flannel you gravitate to the most. Taking it from him, you run your fingers over the fabric.

“I can throw your clothes in the washing machine for you first thing tomorrow so they’ll be clean by the time you wake up,” he adds.

You breath out shakily.

A fucking washing machine.

“Overwhelming, ain’t it?”Joel drapes the hooded sweatshirt over a nearby chair, deciding to leave it for you as well. “Trust me, I get it. I felt the same when I first got here with Ellie. It took a lot of time for the both of us to adjust to this new way of life after being out there for so long,” he confesses to you. “The important thing is to take it one step at a time, darlin’. And somethin’ is tellin’ me the next step for you is probably takin’ a nice hot shower?”

Your mouth falls open. A hot shower? Hot?

“You’ll have to share a bathroom with Ellie.” Joel leads you out of the bedroom and to another door adjacent to yours. He shows you the bathroom, telling you which knob in the shower was for hot water and which one was for cold water. “You can use Ellie’s shampoo, m’sure she won’t mind. I’d offer you some of my own, but I don’t think you’ll wanna walk around smellin’ like sandalwood and spice.” Joel hands you the canvas bag he’d had draped over his arm. “Here. Should be pretty much everythin’ you’re gonna need. There’s a bar of soap, a couple clean washcloths, a toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste. There’s also a razor.” He pauses. “It’s a men’s razor, one of mine I’ve never used, but I reckon it does the job just the same as a woman’s razor.”

Amused, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What the hell are you trying to say? That I need to shave?

“Not that you have to use it,” he adds quickly, his cheeks burning bright red at what you thought he had been insinuating. He shifts awkwardly from boot to boot. “I tossed it in there just in case you’d want to, but you ain’t gotta use it, that’s not what I meant at all—”

Deciding you don’t want to see him squirm, you lift a hand up to stop him and shake your head.

Truth be told, you actually couldn’t fucking wait to shave your legs.

Calm down, cowboy. It’s all good.

Realizing he hadn’t offended you, Joel relaxes. “I’ll let you get to your shower. You take as long as you want, but just try and leave some hot water for me since I’m next,” he chuckles. “As soon as we both get all cleaned up, we can meet downstairs in the kitchen for a quick bite to eat before bed. Deal?”

Deal.

He’s about to leave you to it when you stop him, grabbing his arm. Wait a second, Joel.

Joel’s eyes meet yours. “Yeah?”

Thank you.

Your gratitude might have been silent, but it was there and he knew it.

Feeling brave, Joel reaches up and places his hand over yours for a moment, his thumb brushing against the softness of your skin. “No need to thank me, sweetheart.”

Letting his hand drop away from yours, Joel then turns and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him to give you your privacy.

Once you have the hot water running, you kick off your boots and start to peel off your clothes, tossing them into a pile on the floor near the door. Completely naked, you turn your back towards the oval shaped mirror hanging over the bathroom sink, unwilling to take a look at the scars on your body—painful reminders of the cruel punishments you’d endured during your time in captivity.

You grab the toiletries from the tote bag Joel had given you and set them on the side of the tub. Pulling the yellow floral curtain aside, you step into the shower and position yourself directly underneath the scalding hot water, letting it burn your skin to give you an entirely different kind of pain to think about, even if it was just for a minute until your body adjusted to the temperature of the water and it no longer hurt.

You begin washing yourself, trying your hardest to keep from crumbling. But you couldn’t. Lump in your throat and a tightness in your chest, tears brim your eyes, ready to fall.

You’re willing to let them.

Two years. For almost two fucking years, you had been suppressing your emotions. You’d been in a constant survival mode, there had been no time to feel anything. And now here you were, standing in a fucking shower with all the freedom in the world to just let it all out.

Silent sobs wrack your body, bringing you down onto your knees.

Joel’s shower had been a quick one.

You hadn’t left him very much hot water—but he couldn’t even be mad about it.

He pulls on a pair of light gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He haphazardly dries off his hair and makes his way downstairs, knowing you would be heading down there any minute now to meet him like you’d agreed. Without much time to make a proper meal for you to eat, Joel goes about the dimly lit kitchen and prepares a couple of cold turkey sandwiches. He’d just plated them and set them on the table when the soft padding of bare feet on the hardwood floor prompts him to look up.

His breath catches in his throat. You stand there in the doorway wearing nothing but his flannel shirt. The hem of it falls to the middle of your thighs, and it takes everything in him not to think about the fact that you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt. His fucking shirt.

Clearing his throat lightly, he makes sure not to let his gaze wander where it’s not supposed to. “I bet you feel a lot better, don’t you?”

You sigh softly. Oh, you have no fucking idea.

Noticing you’re holding your hands behind your back, Joel shoots you a puzzled look. “What’cha got there?”

You bring your arms forward. Clutched in your hands is the notepad and pen that Maria had given you.

Although he takes it as a sign that you are willing to communicate with him, Joel knows better than to get too far ahead of himself. He’d wait until you were ready to make the first move and he’d follow your lead. “I made you a sandwich to eat,” he tells you, pulling out a chair at the table. “C’mon, come have a seat.”

After you sit down, Joel goes over to the sink and fills two glasses of water, one for you and one for himself. Setting them down on the table, he finally takes a seat across from you—that’s when he notices the redness in your eyes. You’d been crying. Even though he wants to ask you if you’re alright, Joel decides against it for the time being and the two of you eat in comfortable, tranquil silence.

“I can make you another one if you’re still hungry,” Joel offers when you polish off the last couple bites of your sandwich.

Shaking your head, you place your hands on your belly signaling that you’re full. You’re not, though. You’d eagerly scarf another three of them down if you could, but you were a lot more exhausted than you were hungry and you couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed upstairs and get some sleep..

Joel studies you. “You okay, darlin’?”

You shrug. This has just been a lot to process.

“I know it’s gonna be tough for you. It’s like I told you earlier, it’s gonna take some time to adjust to your new life here in Jackson. But I need you to know you ain’t alone anymore. I’m gonna be here to look out for you. And trust me, I know you don’t really need me to.” Joel pauses and shoots you a crooked little grin. “Hell, you took a swing at Keith. You’ve got bigger fuckin’ balls than half of the men in this town. Includin’ myself.”

You let out a huff of amusement from your nose and the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile—you don’t try to force it down.

Joel blurts the words before he can even think to stop himself. “You’ve got a real nice smile, y’know.”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you move your empty plate off to the side and grab your pen and notepad. You swiftly scribble something onto the blank page, then slide it across the table to Joel.

He picks it up, an odd sensation fluttering inside his chest when he realizes what you had done.

You’d written down your name for him.

He says it out loud, and then looks up at you.

“That’s a real beautiful name.” Sincerity drips from his tone, going hand in hand with his compliment.

Cheeks burning, you glance down at your hands, which you’d begun wringing together on top of the table. It was out of nervousness, but this kind was different. You couldn’t quite explain it.

“I know it’s gonna take a whole lot more than a hot shower and a sandwich to get you to trust me. But I swear that I’m gonna do whatever I can to show you that you ain’t got anythin’ to be afraid of. Not with me around. Okay?”

Okay.

You open your mouth, trying to repeat the word back to him.

Joel’s eyes widen slightly. You wanted to talk to him—you were actually trying to talk to him. But it was a clear struggle. Something wasn’t letting you find your voice.

Clamping your mouth shut, you sigh and sink back into your chair. I’m sorry. I can’t.

“It’s okay,” he says, softly. “We’re gonna take this one step at a time. Together.”

#to hell and back fic #to hell and back #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller comfort #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months ago

Text

Corporate Bullshit

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

Corporate Bullshit: Exposing the Lies and Half-Truths That Protect Profit, Power, and Wealth in America is Nick Hanauer, Joan Walsh and Donald Cohen's 2023 book on the history of corporate apologetics; it's great:

https://thenewpress.com/books/corporate-bullsht

I found out about this book last fall when David Dayen reviewed it for the The American Prospect; Dayen did a great job of breaking down its thesis, and I picked it up for my newsletter, which prompted Hanauer to send me a copy, which I finally got around to reading yesterday (I have gigantic backlog of reading):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/27/six-sells/#youre-holding-it-wrong

The authors' thesis is that the business world has a well-worn playbook that they roll out whenever anything that might cause industry to behave even slightly less destructively is proposed. What's more, we keep falling for it. Every time we try to have nice things, our bosses – and their well-paid Renfields – dust off their talking points from the last go-round, do a little madlibs-style search and replace, and bust it out again.

It's a four-stage plan:

I. First, insist that there is no problem.

Enslaved people are actually happy. Smoking doesn't cause cancer. Higher CO2 levels are imaginary and they're caused by sunspots and they're good for crop yields. The hole in the ozone layer is only a problem if you foolishly decide to hang around outside (this is real!).

II. OK, there's a problem, but it's your fault.

An epidemic of on-the-job maimings is actually an epidemic of sloppy workers. A gigantic housing crash is really a gigantic cohort of greedy, feckless borrowers. Rampant price gouging is actually a problem of too much "spending power" (that is, "money") in the hands of working people.

III. Any attempt to fix this will make it worse.

Equal wages for equal work will cause bosses to fire women and people of color. Protecting people with disabilities will cause bosses to fire disable people. Minimum wages will cause bosses to buy machines and fire "unskilled" workers. Gun control will only increase underground gun sales. Banning carcinogenic pesticides will end agriculture as we know and we'll all starve to death.

IV. This is socialism.

Income tax is socialism. Estate tax is socialism. Medicare and Medicaid are socialism. Food stamps are socialism. Child labor laws are socialism. Public education is socialism. The National Labor Relations Act is socialism. Unions are socialism. Social security is socialism. The Fair Labor Standards Act is socialism. Obamacare is socialism. The Civil Rights Act is socialism. The Occupational Health and Safety Act is socialism. The Family Medical Leave Act is socialism. FDR is a socialist. JFK is a socialist. Lyndon Johnson is a socialist. Carter is a socialist. Clinton is a socialist. Obama is a socialist. Biden is a socialist (Biden: "I beat the socialist. That's how I got the nomination").

Though this playbook has been in existence since the nation's founding, the authors point out that from the New Deal until the Reagan era, it didn't get much traction. But starting in the Reagan years, the well-funded network of billionaire-backed think-tanks, endowed economics chairs, and latter-day propaganda vehicles like Prageru breathed new life into these tactics.

We can see this playing out right now as the corporate world scrambles for a response to the Harris campaign's proposal to address price-gouging. Reading Matt Stoller's dissection of this response, we can see the whole playbook on display:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/monopoly-round-up-price-gouging-vs

First, corporate apologists insisted that greedflation didn't exist, despite the fact that CEOs kept getting on earnings calls and boasting to their investors about how they were using the excuse of inflation to jack up prices:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/11/price-over-volume/#pepsi-pricing-power

Or the oil CEOs who boasted that the Russian invasion of Ukraine gave them cover to just screw us at the pump:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/15/sanctions-financing/#soak-the-rich

There are all these out-in-the-open commercial entities whose sole purpose is to "advise" large corporations about their prices, which is just a barely disguised euphemism for price-fixing, from meat-packing:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/04/dont-let-your-meat-loaf/#meaty-beaty-big-and-bouncy

To rents:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/24/gouging-the-all-seeing-eye/#i-spy

That's stage one: "there's no problem." Stage two is "it's your fault." That's Larry Summers and co insisting that a couple of stimulus checks a couple years ago are responsible for inflation, because it gave you too much "buying power," and so the only possible fix is to jack up interest rates and trigger mass layoffs and sharp wage decreases across the economy:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/14/medieval-bloodletters/#its-the-stupid-economy

Stage three is "any attempt to fix this will make it worse." When Isabella Weber pointed out that there was a long history of price-controls being used to fight price-gouging, corporate apologists lost their minds and brigaded her, calling her all kinds of nasty names and insisting that her prescription didn't even warrant serious discussion, because any attempt to control prices would destroy the economy:

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/podcasts/lately/article-the-millennial-economist-who-took-on-the-world/

You may recognize this as cousin to the response to rent control proposals, which inevitably trigger a barrage of economists screaming that this will not work and will actually reduce the housing supply and drive up prices, which is true, provided that you ignore all evidence and history:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/16/mortgages-are-rent-control/#housing-is-a-human-right-not-an-asset

And stage four is "this is socialism." Look, I am a literal card-carrying member of the Democratic Socialists of America and I can assure you, Kamala Harris is not a socialist (and more's the pity). But that didn't stop the most eminently guillotineable members of the investor class from hair-on-fire, ALL-CAPS denunciations of the Harris proposal as SOCIALISM and Harris herself as a COMMUNIST:

https://twitter.com/Jason/status/1824580470052725055

The author's thesis is that by naming the playbook and giving examples of it – for example, showing how the "proof" that minimum wage increases will destroy jobs was also offered as "proof" not to abolish slavery, ban child labor, add fireproofing to textile factories, and pay women and Black people the same as white guys – we can vaccinate ourselves against it.

Certainly, we've reached a moment where the public is increasingly skeptical of claims that we can't fix anything because the economists say that this is the best of all possible worlds, and if that means that we're all going to boil to death in our own skin, so be it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/27/economism/#what-would-i-do-if-i-were-a-horse

In other words, after 40 years of subordinating politics to economics, there's a resurgence of belief in politics – that is, doing stuff – rather than hunkering down and waiting for the technocrats to fix everything:

https://www.programmablemutter.com/p/seeing-like-a-matt

Corporate Bullshit is a brisk and bracing read – I got through it in about an hour in my hammock yesterday – and, in laying out the bullshit playbook's long history of nonsensical predictions and pronouncements, it does make a very good case that we should stop listening to people who quote from it.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/19/apologetics-spotters-guide/#narratives

#pluralistic #narratives #lakoff #joan walsh #david cohen #nick hanauer #apologetics #bullshit #history #books #reviews #gift guide

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freakspectors · 1 year ago

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HELUVAKINKTOBER: DAY 4 - PROSTITUTION.

A Dazai Osamu | BSD x Gender-Neutral Smut Fanfic.

warnings ; smut , reader is a prostitute , rough sex, dacryphilia , hair pulling , doggy style , spanking?? maybe?? , begging , etc .

author's note ; don't worry. daddy's home. HIHI EVERYONE!!! im so many days behind but shh we dont talk about that. i got grounded and i have so much going on but remember what i said on the masterlist? fuck it, WE BALL!!!! anyways this seems really mediocre but i need to catch up really fast so... enjoy what you can ^^

heluvakinktober 2023 m.list .

Nights get desolate when the Ex-Mafia member isn’t attempting suicide. Tonight, Dazai seemed to be particularly lonely — he was yearning for another. No, not for a double suicide — get the idea of suicide out of your head, goddamn it. What the detective needed was someone to fornicate with, naturally. But a trail of broken hearts follows his path in life; all of said hearts being his own.. But hearts nonetheless.

His hands just wouldn’t do it for him this time around. No matter how fast he stroked, what he fantasized about, anything at all — he couldn’t get himself off. So, what was this renowned agent of the Armed Detective Agency doing in solution to his predicament?

He hired a prostitute.

He hired you.

Dazai’s cock drilled into your cum-stuffed hole, his shaft sliding in and out with ease. Moist sounds of skin against skin fill the room each time he bottoms out. The hefty headboard slams against the wall, its sound resembling objects falling during an earthquake. You bury your head into his pillow, moans unmuffling after each harsh thrust.

You’ve serviced many needy men throughout your career, yes, but there’s something.. different about Dazai. Perhaps it was his odd sense of charm? His concerning amount of bandages? Perhaps even the fact he’s fucking you like it’s the baby boom all over again. You couldn’t even fathom how good he felt inside of you, much unlike your older clients.

A smack on your ass brings you out of your daze. You wince at the sting, looking back at the brunette pistoning himself inside you with a broad smile on his face. His other hand rests on your hair, gripping onto you as he rails you into oblivion.

“What is it, bella? Did I hurt you too much?” Dazai pouts, gently caressing the red mark. You bob your head, eyes glossy as the young man laughs in your face. “Awe, poor baby. Do you want me to slow down?”

Before you could even muster up an answer, Dazai slowed his hips until he eventually came to a stop. You never thought you’d see yourself begging for any of your clients, but tonight seemed to be a night where everything went off course.

Fat tear droplets ran down your cheeks as loud pleas left your throat, your voice becoming hoarse. The detective rolled his eyes, a spiel of boredom in his voice when he spoke. “Oh, come on. Do you really feel that good? For all I know, you may be trying to get more money from me like the whore you are.”

You feverishly shake your head no. He wasn’t exactly wrong — nor right, actually. You’ve pretended to cum more times than you can even count; but he was the first customer you have ever been this needy for.

“P-Please, keep going, I’ll even make this session free — I just need to.. Please, Dazai,” you cry, the lump in your throat feeling worse the more you hic and sob. Dazai stares at you, speechless with a shit-eating grin. After a moment of silence, Dazai bursts out laughing at you. Feeling humiliated, you sighed and silently cried into the pillow once more. It wasn’t long before a hard thrust went into you, ripping a moan from your throat.

“Suck it up, won’t you? I never said I was stopping for good.”

@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .

#⁺˚⋆✩₊ heluvaku works .#⛧ heluvakinktober .#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou sd #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd smut #bsd dazai #bsd x reader #bungo sd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader smut #bsd x reader smut

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reputationolivia · 11 months ago

Text

By My Muse.

thought i’d bring this one back… a short one: 2.4k words | originally written: july 2023

Summary: Y/n is taking some extra lessons with one of the music instructors after school in preparation for her music & instrumental arts final exam.

“Everyone please remember to practice and look over your notes! We only have three classes before your final exam for the semester!” Said Harry - he insisted the class address him as Harry as he felt Mr. Styles was far too professional and said it made him sound like a “stuffy middle aged professor.” The class began to clear out of the tiered style classroom, almost everyone was gone all bidding their goodbye to our teacher on their way out as I began gathering my things. I picked up by bag and slung it over my shoulder as I heard someone clear their throat from the front of the room. “Where do you think you’re going y/n?” He said with a tone in his voice.

“Oh uh I was just gonna-” you start but he cuts you off. “Just gonna what? Did you really think you could just leave with out me noticing y/n?” he walks over to me and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Were you really just gonna leave me here love?” He asks. “No.”

“No who, y/n?” He stands there looking straight into your eyes - not sure if you should address him as Harry, sir. or…

You stand there dumbfounded not sure how to respond - ultimately deciding to swallow your nerves and be a bit bold. “No Daddy.” His hand moves from your shoulder and towards your face, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Good girl.” He takes your hand, leading you further into into the row of seats. He places his hands on your hips and lifts you onto one of the desks, you don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the adrenaline that comes from the fact that there’s a chance you may get caught - whatever it is you don’t have it in you to hold back anymore. Your hands wrap around his neck as you pull his lips towards your own and kiss him. Harry is caught a bit off guard but kisses you with no hesitation none the less.

Before you know it your hot make out session, with one of your professors might you add, causes you both to want more after Harry pushed your legs apart in a desperate attempt to get closer to you. You can feel yourself grinding against his now hard cock as the both of you continue to make-out as if your lives depended on it. As you continue to kiss Harry you can feel his hands moving from steady on your hips to the hem of your shirt, and in a quick movement he forces himself to part from you, then pulls your shirt over your head in another. As soon as your shirt is off the both of you find yourselves kissing again except this time it’s you desperate to remove something of Harry’s. As the two of you kiss you find yourself fiddling with the zipper of Harry’s dress pants. “Darlingg…” He begins as soon as you manage to unbutton and unzip his pants. “Yes Daddy?” you ask him innocently. “What do you think you’re doing…?” He asks, his lips plump from the make out session. “Wanna touch you.” you say. “Oh yeah?” He asks, “You wanna be a good girl for daddy?” He asks. You nod your head. “Use your words darling.” - “Yes, daddy.”

You watch as he smirks, and takes a step back, sitting down on one of the desk chairs behind him. “Come be a good girl for daddy then.” he says. Knowing what to do you hop off the desk and step towards him, getting down on your knees and reaching for his cock. You slip your hand into his briefs and finally feel just how hard his cock is. Harry feels shivers and pure relief at the feeling of you’re soft hands finally touching him. After running your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times you take your other hand and grab the band of his underwear and use the hand already on his cock to finally pull him out of his briefs. Harry let’s out a sigh at the relief of his cock finally being out and free from the constraint of his briefs. You begin to slowly run your hands up and down his cock watching him in front of you, you bring your hands down toward the base of his cock and bring your mouth towards his tip. You stop as your mouth hits the tip of his cock and you swirl your tongue around it before sucking it only slightly and coming back off. “ Come on y/n please, be a good girl…” With this you go back down on his cock, you go down as far as you can, using your hands to compensate for the rest of him that doesn’t fit.

You hear Harry trying to muffle his moans at the feel of your mouth around him. You suddenly feel his hands come down and grab your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail. You continue bobbing your head up and down when you feel his grip on your hair tighten only making you more wet then you already were. You feel Harry’s hips buck up into your mouth, shoving his cock just further into your mouth than it already was. You moan at the feeling and this causes harry to grunt from the feeling. “Are you gonna be a good girl for daddy, y/n?” He asks, You nod - or we’ll try to given the position you’re in. “always such a good little slut for daddy.” Harry says as his head falls back.

He grips your hair the slightest bit tighter and begins pushing your head down onto his cock causing you to gag, in a sudden movement he pushes you off him and stands up, cock still out and now pressing against his stomach. “Are you gonna be a good girl and take my load in your mouth baby girl?” he says, pulling at his cock twice for good measure - all you can do is nod as you look up at him. Putting a hand at the back of your head he takes the other and guides his cock back into your mouth - now rocking into it slowly.

His hips begin bucking a little rougher now at the new angle and the head of his cock hits the back of your throat at each thrust making you gag. “You’re daddy’s little slut, gagging on my cock like that.” he says as he pushes a stand of hair away from your face so he can look at directly at you as his hard cock fucks in and out of your mouth. With another gag from you and three final thrusts you can hear a series of curses slipping from Harry’s mouth as he comes into your mouth - you swallowing his load in hopes he’ll fuck you on the desk now.

Feeling desperate for something, anything- you begin to stand up from your previous position on your knees. Harry looks up to you as you begin to speak “Daddy please” you begin, your words coming out more like a whine. “Please what y/n?” he asks you as he stands up from the chair. “I need your cock.” you say desperately. “You want me to fuck you know y/n?” he asks but all you can do now is nod in response - normally Harry would command you to use your words but after the way you took his dick in your mouth like such a good girl he figured he’d let it slide this once.

“Yes, please daddy. I need your cock in my pussy now.” you finally manage to say. He puts his hands back on your hips lifting you onto one of the desks, kissing you roughly - tasting a bit of his load you’d previously swallowed. “You want your professor to fuck you in the classroom y/n?” he asks and you manage a “mhm yes daddy please, i’ve been a good girl.” you say. “You have been a good girl for daddy, haven’t you y/n?” you nod - “you’re such a dirty whore, fucking your college profesor in the same room where i teach all of your fellow classmates aren’t you?” he says but you can only gasp as plunges two fingers into you without warning.

He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you roughly, curling them once they’re deep inside you. You can help but let out a moan at the feeling of finally being touched. You’re not exactly sure how this whole thing started but you don’t regret it. He continued pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, then pulling them out and you can see how your arousal has spread all over his fingers. You were so wet. “So wet for me aren’t you y/n?” he says as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean right in front of you.

You can’t help but whine at the scene, just wanting his cock to be buried deep inside of your wet pussy. “Getting impatient aren’t we?” He says. “I’m sorry daddy- please i really need you.” Harry didn’t know if it was the way you were practically whining for his cock or how wet you were just for him but he decided to finally give you what you’ve been asking for. He ran his hand up and down his cock, jerking himself a bit before asking “Do you have a condom on you baby girl?” You nod a no “If you don’t have a condom then i don’t think I can fuck you right now baby.” - “no- no, please fuck me daddy, i need it. I’m on birth control.” you say with a desperate tone. You were hungry for him.

“Oh fuck baby girl.” he speaks out, practically moaning. He brings his hand to the hand of your underwear as you lift your hips helping him pull it off easily, as soon as it’s off it’s thrown on the floor beneath the both of you. He pushes your legs apart, finally bringing his hard cock near you, he takes his tip and drags it up and down your slit. teasing you. “please daddy.” you beg. “Alright, just because you’ve been such a good girl for daddy.” he lines himself up at your entrance, pushing himself into you slowly.

You moan at the feeling of his long, thick cock stretching you out, and finally entering your pussy. “fuck, baby girl.” he says as he finally finishes pushing himself inside of your cunt, feeling himself stretch your tight pussy with his cock. He only gives you a few seconds to adjust to his size again, and he pulls out slowly. Without warning he plunges his hard cock into your cunt making you gasp out, not expecting his massive cock to be shoved inside your tight pussy without warning. He begins thrusting into you roughly, both hands on your hips to keep you from moving or falling from the somewhat unsteady desk.

He’s thrusting into your wet cunt like no tomorrow, the sound of skin slapping fills the room.

“fuck daddy.” you moan, putting your hands on his shoulders as your head begins to lean on his neck. “You’re so tight for me baby girl.” he says as he continues fucking you right on the desk. He moves his hands from your hips and toward your back as he unclasps your bra letting your tits out of their constraints. You feel a rush as you’re here being fucked by one of your professors on a desk, with your tits out knowing there’s a chance someone could walk into the room at any moment and catch you two in the act.

Harry moves his hand onto one of your tits, massaging them as you moan out his name at the feeling of him with his hand on your breast while fucking into you raw. You can feel your orgasm approaching as you hold onto harry’s shoulders for support, Harry notices what’s going on when he hears your shaky breaths and the way your cunt was squeezing his cock “oh fuck y/n” he practically groaned as he leaned over just slightly further to press is forehead against yours.

“im gonna cum.” you whine as you feel Harry’s thrusts becoming sloppy and his cock twitch inside you. “me too baby, come for me” he tells.

You can feel his hot breath as he thrusts into you messily and watches you come undone beneath him while he chases his own orgasm, hips stilling after 5 thrusts and he then pulls out as you wind at the loss of his cock in your pussy. Harry now places his hands on your shoulders as we guides you down onto your knees once again, you open your mouth for him, knowing what’s coming. You watch as Harry tugs twice at his cock before tapping the tip of it on your mouth and spilling his cum into your mouth. Holding back a whimper as he watches you swallow it like the good girl he knows you are.

“You’re so good for me y/n.” he says as he begins tucking himself back into his briefs and you begin standing up. You turn your back to him, hiding a blush and you feel two hands on your back, he clasps your bra back for you. “Thanks…” you mutter awkwardly and curse yourself for being such an awkward person. Harry let’s out a soft chuckle beside you as he kneels over, looking for your panties that were carelessly discarded moments ago. “Are you laughing at me?” you ask him, amused now. “Yes… you’re silly sometimes y/n…” he says as you finish getting dressed.

“Me, silly?” you look up at him, both of you now fully dressed again. “yes” he boops your nose with his finger “you, silly.” he smiles as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “I should get going…” you say as you look up at him. “okay- bye y/n” he says as you awkwardly stay standing there, he notices and realizes he’s in the way, stepping aside “oh s-sorry.” he scratches the back of his neck. “It’s alright Harry, i’ll see you yeah?” you say as you begin walking towards the door. “sure, see you y/n.” You walk out, waving behind you as you exit but wondering why Harry was acting kind of odd just then. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of nervous? Or maybe a little shy? This would be on your mind for the rest of the day as you made your way back to your dorm.

————————————<3—————————————

a/n: hope you guys liked it, even though i wrote this six months ago i’ve been severely lacking motivation so this needs to be heavily edited but i wanted to put this out while i work on my other drafts, anyways i hope you guys like the trope & i really wanna continue writing abt these two and see where the plot takes them!!

atl, olivia ♡

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles reader insert #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry #harry fanfiction #harry fic #be my muse

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folkookie97 · 1 year ago

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❝ twisted in bedsheets ❞ — jjk

— PAIRING: ex boyfriend!jungkook x female!reader

— SUMMARY: ❝ An affair with your ex who's your children's dad isn't a good idea. Especially when he's about to get married. ❞

— TYPE: angst | non-idol!au

— WORD COUNT: 2,617

— WARNINGS: Past/Secret relationship, Cheating, Coparenting, Husband!Taehyung, Jungkook has a fiancée, Mention of (2) Unplanned Pregnancy, Slight Toxic!relationship, Curses, Sad/Open(?) ending, Inspired by August & Illicit Affairs (Taylor Swift), Mention of brother!Namjoon, Mention of Marriage Convenience, Argument

— NOTES: i hope u like it <3 happy birthday to our bunny

— RELEASE DATE: September 01, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

Forgiveness is inevitable for our individual evolution. It's necessary in any religion or even in psychology, which emphasizes the importance of that attitude and feeling so that we can have a better life.

Could that be the reason why things were so complicated?

Your brother used to say that you had extreme difficulty in overcoming certain situations, especially when people harmed you. It was as if you didn't care about their remorse. Even when years passed it was like you focused on the pain felt by your past self and refused to forget what they'd done.

Whenever Namjoon said that you would roll your eyes and vehemently deny it. Not only due to the discomfort of acknowledging a possible red flag but also because you didn't see yourself that way.

At least until that day.

"I'm seeing you received his wedding invitation." You felt a kiss on your face as Taehyung entered the living room accompanied by your two children, who didn't waste any time jumping onto your lap and showering you with hugs.

With your head still slightly sore, you returned the affection and watched the two kids running towards their bedrooms.

"How did you know he was engaged?"

The sigh that escaped Taehyung's lips increased your irritation. You made an effort to not rush him as you continued analyzing the expressions on his face. You noticed everything from the subtle bite he gave to his upper lip to the furrowing of his brows.

"He mentioned it to me."

You definitely didn't expect that. Anything was possible except for that.

What the hell was going on?

"Wow, amazing! You and Jungkook become fucking friends again?" You screamed and laughed sarcastically at the same time. "How'd it happen?"

Taehyung trembled at your voice's volume. He never saw you so stressed before. Yelling at him wasn't your style. Like never.

"My darling..." He attempted, sitting beside you and trying to get closer. Despite knowing the reason for your anger, Taehyung wasn't ready for the blow to his heart as he saw you move your body further into the sofa's corner. Away from him. "(Y/N), stop it…"

"Tell me that shit right now or I swear I'll sleep somewhere else tonight."

You didn't want your words to sound so offensive. You were even trying hard.

However, Taehyung knew you well. He knew you all too well. You couldn't fault him for being such an amazing husband.

You changed the question when the silence hung too long, "Why'd you keep this from me?"

“I was afraid you'd wanna be in his bride's shoes."

At that moment you knew Taehyung was correct even with such selfishness.

You really wanted to be in Jihyo's shoes.

You wanted to be Jeon Jungkook's future wife.

After so many years. You still wanted him back.

Resentment. Anger. Jealousy. Envy. Sadness.

Those were the feelings that took over your heart when Jungkook's messages showed up on your phone screen.

"Can you meet me at the snack bar near your house in half an hour? It's about my wedding. Take the twins if you can."

You rolled your eyes with an urge to send him to hell fucking strong.

So it was hard to believe that you were really fighting the intrusive thoughts and getting the twins ready for the meet.

Ivy wore a pink dress detailed with sunflowers and yellow shoes. The little hair bow was the same color as the flowers and contrasted with the dark tone of her hair strands.

Dressing Oliver was always a hard situation so you chose didn't stress yourself more than usual. You gave way to the little boy's desire to wear a simple Spider-Man costume and Iron Man flip flops.

You looked around for Jungkook when you arrived at the snack bar but couldn't find him anywhere. Rolling your eyes and biting your lip to push away the anger starting creeping into your veins, you decided to sit with the kids at a table farther away and near the large window.

The bell on the entrance door rang once again after you ordered a portion of French fries and hurried footsteps ran towards the three of you.

"Did you already order without me?"

Tears were already welling up in the corners of your eyes before you could muster efforts to contain the pain in your heart. The warmth of the liquid reminds you how pathetic you'd seem if you cried in front of him.

You couldn't show weakness.

"Hey, Jungkook. I see you're late... As usual." You commented and saw your children leave their seats to hug his waist and hug him. That damn tiny waist.

"Don't be so mean, my angel. You know I'd never be late on purpose."

His sarcastic smile caused a frown on your face. He was such an arrogant bitch.

Jungkook whispered something to Ivy and Oliver, who nodded with their little heads and hurried to the snack bar background where you knew there were some small tables with blank sheets of paper and colored pencils to draw with.

The owners of that place understood how great it was having a space to entertain customers' children. No one liked seeing kids witnessing adult arguments.

"Why'd you ask me to bring them if you just sent them to drawing?"

"I just miss my children, (Y/N). They're mine too, you forget?"

He didn't say it with a rude tone but a guilt feeling hit you instantly. Even though you knew he wasn't blaming you for those trip days, you were aware that Jungkook would miss the twins a lot and yet you refused to let them being at his house.

"How were the days in London? Business trips are usually quite tiring and I-" You cut off him when he sat across from you. Was he beating around the bush?

"What the hell, Jungkook? You call me here to talk about my work at my dad's company or talk about your fucking wedding?"

It was his turn to rolling eyes and wrinkling his nose while he noticed your impatience. You looked like a cartoon character with your flushed face, furrowed forehead and lips being bitten to avoid more shouting.

If he tried a bit harder certainly he'd glimpse flames coming out of your body. Really like a common facial expression in comics cartoons.

"Wow! Looks like you aren't happy for me."

"And how could I be?" You chuckled with a heavy dose of sarcasm. He couldn't be serious. He'd be cruel as hell. "Why are you marrying Jihyo?"

"Cuz I'm in love with her." Jungkook shrugged as if that were the most obvious answer in the whole world.

For the hundredth time since the wedding invitation papers landed in your hands, you rolled your eyes and felt the urge to grab him by the neck until he dropped dead.

"You didn't look so badly in love with her like that when you were eating me out before my trip just like a dumb needy virgin." You took the initiative to curl your lips into a mocking smile and Jungkook widened his eyes on your sharp words.

"Don't say that." He warned you with a sound coming out much rougher than you anticipated.

Instead of containing the venom dripping through your teeth, you continued the session of criticizing the character of the man in front of you.

"Actually, you didn't look to love her in any of so many nights we've fucking these last three years. But I think you loved moaning my name when I was creaming around your cock and also when you cumshot in my face. And maybe when-"

Your mind stopped processing any more humiliations when Jungkook punched the table and all the decorations placed there rattled, just like the instantaneous movement of your body.

It'd been a single punch. Very quick. But you couldn't help but feel scared in Jungkook's presence for the first time in all those years of going back and forth.

The silence between you two lasted for just three minutes although a discomfort in your chest felt like it hung there for almost an eternity. Slowly you looked at him; his trembling lips and eyebrows frowned. Almost like he was about to cry.

Anything about that sounded impossible to you. Jeon Jungkook never cried easily. Why was he so broken?

"Jihyo's pregnant…" The news came along with a few tears in the corners of his shining eyes.

You definitely weren't expecting this. He knew you weren't because whilst you were trying to come up with something to say Jungkook was faster and cut off anything you could think of.

"Taehyung found her a few days ago at the mall while he was there with Ivy and Oliver. She was buying baby clothes and he saw her briefly."

"It was the day he told me that you asked him to see the kids at your house before the agreed-upon time." You said more like thinking out loud. Jungkook nodded in agreement.

"He got really confused so he came to my house and wanted to confront me. I left the kids playing in their room and sat with him in the kitchen." Jungkook fiddled with his own hands studying the collection of tattoos on his skin with as much interest as he had when he got it. "I told him that I knew about it a few days before. Tell him about the wedding wasn't in my plans but he noticed my engagement ring."

There was so much to ask and so little courage to do it. Your mind was boiling with desperation and your heart felt shattered into pieces.

Goddamn fucking fate!

"How many weeks of pregnancy is she?" You allowed yourself to ask, not interested in more minutes of painful silence..

"Sixteen," Jungkook replied. Sixteen weeks! Four damn months! "It's a little girl. She'll be named Liz."

You clenched your teeth remembering the reason behind the choice of her name.

"Before our breakup you used to say your dream was having a daughter named Liz." You reminded him and he swallowed hard realizing that memory remained fresh in your mind even the years that passed.

"Yeah… But when you were pregnant it was you who chose the name Ivy, so I thought-" Jungkook stopped talking and widened his eyes noticing what he'd just said. "But I love our daughter's name! It's so beautiful!"

You almost wanna laugh remembering how upset he was when saw your pregnancy belly and found out that you hid the pregnancy from him. Annoyance for your secret turned to happiness after a few minutes of civil conversation. And it turned into shock when you told him it wasn't a common pregnancy but a twins pregnancy. He went back to being happy when you told him about the babies' genders and he went back to being upset when heard you say that you'd already decided the babies' names on your own.

And the little girl wasn't named Liz as he always dreamed.

“Well, you know… maybe if I'd chosen the name Liz instead of Ivy you might have changed your mind about us and our relationship."

It wasn't true. You loved your daughter's name and could never imagine it any other way. You were just hating the perks in Jihyo's life and the fake "perfect love" she swore existed between both of them.

"My angel… you know you were already engaged to Taehyung. He's… He was my best friend. I couldn't act that way. I couldn't go against your families' desire to see you two get married."

"It was just for the company's sake, Jungkook! Just for the reputation of Taehyung's family and mine!" You fumed and clenching fists before running the fingers through your head, where you tugged a few hair strands overly desperate.

"I don't give a fuck about that bullshit! It's because Taehyung loves you! HE ALWAYS LOVED YOU!"

If you and Jungkook weren't such frequent customers in that establishment, surely the owners of the place would tell you two to leave the instant Jungkook punched the table for the second time.

Though Ivy and Oliver remained quiet drawing in the other room, you knew your children well enough to know they were covering their ears when they both saw their dad so furious with you.

For that one reason you stared at Jungkook. Eye to eye. Tears to tears.

The resentment was high. However, it wasn't strong enough for your pride worthed more than your children's mental health. Jungkook looked like he shared the same thought and tried to normalize his breathing and clear his mind. He adjusted himself in the chair until his posture was more relaxed.

"Love you, my angel. I swear I love you with all my soul and I think that my love for you can never go away." Jungkook looked like he was about to break. "But it's not fair."

His voice came in trembling whispers and his eyes were teary as you've never seen it. "It's not fair to Taehyung, it's not fair to Jihyo, or our twins, or Liz. Much less to us. Me and you. We don't deserve to live like this."

Deep down, you knew it was true. And that hurt more than if you were lied to.

"So are we done again?"

You never really started over. Everything should've ended after the casual fuck when you found out your father wanted you and his business partner's son to get married.

Jungkook swore to himself that he was happy as a single man and you swore to yourself that Taehyung would be an excellent husband and dad, even if you didn't love him.

But then when Jungkook got back from his exchange in Canada everything snowballed. He found out about your pregnancy and the fact the child was the result of the drunken reunion you two had a few months after the breakup.

As if everything couldn't be more desperate, you were actually gonna marry his best friend the next quarter.

Taking on responsible fatherhood and coparenting was all he promised to you. The whole coexistence between you two should be only for the twins.

Of course it didn't go as planned. He was angry seeing you in a fake marriage with Taehyung, who still laid with you every night despite loving you with all his heart and not being reciprocated.

His self-control lasted just for three years until the desire to feel you again took over, and after Ivy and Oliver's third birthday party you two fucked for the first time since the night that reconnected your lives.

Jungkook knew you confessed the first cheating to your husband and he also knew that he could ask for a divorce. However, Taehyung loved you enough to remain a second option and only get out of your life if your true love asked you to come back.

But Jungkook never did it. Because of the fear of spoiling your life. Because of the fear of hurting Taehyung's heart. Because of the fear of being a bad example for your children.

The affair between you has never ceased during the last three years. Not even when he forced himself into a relationship with Jihyo to try getting over you.

He wasn't proud of it. Deep down, you weren't either.

And Jungkook couldn't allow himself to fail one more time.

"You were never mine to lose.“ It's the confirmation you needed. It was over. You and Jungkook were done.

On that August 31st you knew Jungkook was no longer the target of your anger. It was yourself.

And you would never forgive yourself for getting twisted in bedsheets of someone that were never yours.

352 notes · View notes

elizabethwritesmen · 10 months ago

Text

The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 5 : July 4, 2023

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: it’s 4th of july and your favorite soldier shows up at the firework show. you spend a little time with him and get a little drunk, resulting in some bad decision. everything is ok though, as long as he’s there with you.

warnings: 18+ for eventual smut, pining, no use of y/n, reader is almost forced into a pool, angry simon, possessive simon, fireworks, someone flirts with reader, i think that’s all but let me know if i missed anything!

series masterlist

July 4, 2023

A year had passed since my kidnapping.

It was surreal, really. I liked to brush off the experience like it had been nothing but it took a week in the hospital to detox me from all the drugs those guys had pumped in me and two months for my leg to completely heal. It wasn’t the kind of thing you just… forget about. The trauma was gone, though, mostly, but what was left creeped in once I realized it was the anniversary of it.

And then the worst thought crept in. What if they came back? One failed attempt so they try again?

I shrugged off those thoughts, returning to my outfit search. I’d tried on a million options, and upon seeing them on me, decided they were awful and should burn. Because of this what can only be described as character flaw, most of my clothes were strewn across my bed and floor haphazardly after being ripped violently and angrily from my body. I sighed, accepting defeat, and found my safe choice. A cream colored American flag sweater, just thin enough to wear on the beach, and a pair of light wash daisy dukes with rips and exposed pockets. I yanked on my birk style sandals and called it a day.

I rushed out the door with my hair pulled messily into a white claw clip and my makeup done in a rush, mascara just barely smeared and a thin layer of lip balm. I jumped into my car, speeding to the beach where the firework show was to be held.

Normally, I would’ve had to work, but Sabrina’s husband’s family just happened to be the owners of the bar and he decided to close for the night so everybody could enjoy the holiday. This was mostly due to pestering from Sab and I, but that was fine, considering we got what we wanted in the end.

Once I got there, I parked right beside her husband, Dylan’s truck. Once they saw me, they climbed out and we all walked to find a spot together.

“There are a lot of people here already,” I commented as we found a free space at the end of the pier, right in front of the water.

“Probably trying to get good spots like the one we just got,” Sabrina wiggled her eyebrows.

“You know who might be coming?” Dylan asked me with a smirk that made me nervous. I stood, waiting for him to tell me, and he bit, “Connor.”

Connor worked with me when I first started at the bar, but he’d quit after a few months to take a job offer in another city. He was nice, adorable and likable. He was never immune to my charms but he was much more respectful than any of the other men I used them on. We’d hung out and, well, made out a few times before he moved away. I never really cared about him or anything, so his leaving was fine with me, but I did miss having a man around that wasn’t creepy or strange or icky in the slightest. Of course, now I had Ghost, but was he really around? Not much. So what harm could flirting with Connor for the evening do?

“You invited him?” I asked, brows furrowed, “I knew you guys were friends but I didn’t realize you kept in touch.”

“Yeah, he has plans with his family today and came here for them, but he said he’ll probably be done early and head here.”

“Interesting,” Sabrina grinned, “Sounds like a good chance for you to get laid.”

I threw my water bottle at her, “Not everything is about sex, Sab!”

“Well it sure hasn’t been for you lately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’ve been stuck on Ghost for a year, flirting around with him and waiting for him like an army wife or something. And in that time, have you had sex or even done anything with anyone at all?” I cast my eyes downward, the truth in her words hitting me like ice water. “Exactly. I’m just saying, you need to get out of this rut or you’re gonna be hung up on a man you’ll never have for the rest of your life.”

Sabrina was always one for tough love. She never lied, and she only ever said exactly what she thought a person needed to hear.

“You know, I never really slept around even before I met Ghost,” My contradiction was weak against her words.

“I know. But I also know that’s the only thing that might get him off your mind and turn you back into a man’s worst nightmare.”

“Fine. You’re right. Hopefully Connor will stop by.”

“Atta girl!” She grinned, high fiving me with both hands as we settled into the chairs Dylan had carried out for us.

“Not to, uh, ruin this moment for you ladies or anything, but who is Ghost?” Dylan asked, seeming thoroughly confused.

“The guy I told you about, that always wears the mask. The one who saved her last year.”

“Oh!” recognition flashed on his face, “Somehow I’ve missed him every time he’s been here.”

“Well then you’ve also missed the googly eyes she makes at him.”

“I’m sitting right here!” I huffed, crossing my arms.

We hung out there for a couple hours, chatting and drinking a little more than we really needed to. I was nice and buzzed by the time night fell, and I looked around, surveying all the people there.

What I wasn’t expecting to see was Ghost and his three buddies a little ways away from us. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and I didn’t know whether that was a blessing or a curse. Did I have it in me to ignore him and just have a good night with my friends?

Of course I didn’t.

“Sabrina!” I hissed, smacking her on the arm until she paid attention to me. When she finally looked up from whatever she was doing on her phone, I gestured aggressively with my head to the guys in question.

“Fuck, who’d have thought? You gonna go say hi?”

“I don’t know, they haven’t seen me yet. It would be weird for me to just-“

“They see you now,” she raised a brow and gave them a slight finger wave, and I turned to see that they were, in fact, looking at me. Even him.

“Do you think they even want me to walk over there?” I asked.

“Of course they do, stupid, those boys are wrapped around your finger. Go!”

“No,” I sighed, “If he wants to talk to me badly enough he’ll come over here.”

“You and your dumbass hoe rules,” she rolled her eyes at me.

“They’re not dumb and I’m not a hoe!”

“Wait,” Dylan furrowed his brows, “That’s the man? The myth? The legend?” I nodded, giggling. “He’s fucking huge!”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Hell no, I’m guy crushing. Now I don’t resent Sabrina for telling me he’s hot.”

“You told your husband you think Ghost is hot?” I snorted at her, and she shrugged.

“He told me he thinks Angelina Jolie is hot. It was only fair.”

“So you guys just… share your gay crushes with each other? Any more you want to tell me about?”

“Well we’ve both agreed we’d have a threesome but only with you-“ Sabrina didn’t finish her statement, but I heard enough and reached my hand up to shut her up.

“I want to forget you told me that.”

“Fuck,” she gasped, “He’s coming over.”

“Really?” my tone was pathetic, too excited for my own good.

“You were right, I was wrong. Your hoe rules are not dumb!”

Before I could respond, he cleared his throat from behind me. I turned slowly, feeling his presence before I even saw him.

“Hey,” I grinned, and almost looked like he did too, under the mask.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said, his voice the same rough melody as always.

“Well… I live here, and basically the entire town showed up, so..”

“That’s true.”

“What’s more weird is you being here. Considering this is a day to celebrate the US ditching England and you’re English.”

He shrugged, “I like American Independence Day. It’s interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

“Right now, the interesting part is you.”

I fought off the butterflies. Really and truly, I did, with everything I had in me.

“If you just came over here to flatter me, you can go ahead and go back to your friends,” I smirked, eyes narrow.

“Actually I came over to see if you’d wanna come say hi to them.”

“Awwww, so they sent you over here? And I thought you came over because you like me.”

Sabrina and Dylan had amused expressions on their faces, but neither said a word as they watched the exchange.

“They were just gonna wave you over but I told them I wanted to come ask you. Does that answer satisfy you?”

“I’m never satisfied,” I clicked my tongue, but I stood from my seat anyway, lightly grabbing his arm and letting him lead me away. “Be right back!” I called as I left, and my two friends waved goodbye to me, laughing.

“There she is!” Soap cheered as I approached, and a grin broke out over my face. “We started to think you didn’t wanna talk to us!”

“Was just waiting for Lieutenant Dan over here to notice me is all,” I hummed jokingly, getting on my tiptoes to pat Ghost on the head.

“Lieutenant… Dan?” he furrowed his brows, staring down at me, confused as ever.

“You’ve never seen Forrest Gump?” I practically shouted, mouth hanging open stupidly, and he shook his head. “That’s it, you guys are coming over to my place one of these days and we’re gonna watch it.”

“Fine with us,” Gaz shrugged, taking a sip of the drink in his hand.

Ghost still looked apprehensive and confused, so I told him in the sweetest voice I could manage, “Lieutenant Dan is super cool. I had a little crush on him the first time I watched the movie.” At that, his features relaxed, but they tensed again when the boys around us whistled.

“I think she’s got a little crush on you, Ghost,” Price laughed, and Ghost glared but I just giggled.

“I never said I didn’t,” I shrugged with a wink and the whistles got worse. “But I never said I did, either.”

We caught up, they told me as much as they could about what they had been up to but it wasn’t a lot at all. I noticed the more I saw them, the comfier they got speaking to me.

Then, I noticed Connor walking up the pier out of the corner of my eye, his own eyes already on me. A bright smile lit up his face and he picked up his pace to get to my side.

“Connor!” I squeaked as he pulled me into a huge hug, spinning me around in a circle and then waiting an extra second to let me go.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” he winked, “You look good.”

“I look the same,” I scoffed.

“I know,” his voice was coy and I rolled my eyes, stepping back to put a tiny bit of distance between us, hyper aware of Ghost’s eyes burning into me.

“I can’t believe you made it,” I spoke, more tense than I normally would’ve been but I don’t think anyone picked up on it. I felt so awkward. I’d started the day with the intention of flirting with him, and doing anything I could to make him want me, and now I was a puddle for another man I didn’t even expect to see.

“Of course I made it,” he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You’re here. I’d never miss a chance to see you while I’m in town.”

“I seem to have that affect on men,” I snorted, sparing a glance to Ghost and instantly regretting it. His eyes were hot, and they just about set me on fire, making my whole body feel tense and preyed upon.

“You always have,” Connor looked me up and down then, clearly liking what he saw, “Where are the lovebirds?”

“Over there,” I pointed to the end of the pier and he nodded.

“You gonna come join us anytime soon?” he asked.

“If you stay on your best behavior, I’ll consider it,” I smirked and he laughed all the way down to Dylan and Sabrina.

“You two seemed familiar,” Soap hummed, tone playful but eyes wary.

“He used to work with me but he moved away. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a couple years or so.”

“Guess time didn’t make him like you any less.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Why don’t you guys come down to the end, with us? The view is better, and I don’t wanna leave you but I can’t ditch them.”

“Fine by me,” Price shrugged, and the others agreed. Ghost didn’t want to, but they talked him into it, saying it was either hang out with me or stand there alone.

“Finally decided we were worth your time?” Sabrina jabbed as we approached, and I rolled my eyes.

“You’re always worth my time, baby girl,” I leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, “I was just having a chat.”

“Get a room, you two,” Dylan joked at our girly display of affection.

“Can’t, you married her before I had the chance,” I pouted, and they both laughed. I was straight as they come, but I still liked to joke about being gay for her. She was my best friend. What girl doesn’t do that?

“If anyone is getting a room with this one, it’s gonna be me,” Connor leaned around me to kiss me on the cheek and I all but cringed, shying away from him.

“‘This one’ isn’t getting a room at all, so don’t go getting your hopes up,” I was stern, but tried to be nice and protect the peace. I’d expected him to flirt with me. It’s not his fault I have a very angry looking Ghost watching over me and making me feel dizzy with need, my tummy a little sick from all the butterflies in there flying against my rib cage.

“See your mouth hasn’t changed much,” he just laughed, turning back to the side of the pier and leaning on the railing.

I approached Ghost, opting to root myself by him instead of by Connor. I wanted him to know that he was the one I’d rather have. It was silly, really, I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. I wouldn’t risk doing anything that would make him not want to see me again. I needed him to want to see me again.

This action didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else, their eyebrows raised but they stayed silent. Ghost just grabbed my arm and pulled me half an inch closer, satisfied with my choice, and I half smiled.

“Hey hot stuff,” Sabrina began speaking to me, “After the fireworks we’re going back to mine and hanging out by the pool. You down?”

“Are we all invited?” I gestured to the four men beside me and she nodded.

“Of course! I wouldn’t leave anyone out,” her tone of voice was the same as all the times she joked about Ghost and I.

“Then yeah, that sounds good. You guys wanna come?”

“I’d rather hang out there than some crowded bar,” Gaz shrugged, and the others nodded. Once again, all except Ghost.

“Come on, Ghosty, you’re not gonna let me go all alone are you?” I spoke, only loud enough for him to hear.

“You’ll have Connor with you.” He spat the name out like it disgusted him.

“I don’t want him with me. I want you. Besides, all your boys are coming. Please?” That one word did him in, his eyes meeting mine in a heated gaze.

“I’ll come.”

I smiled victoriously as we all settled in to watch the fireworks that were about to start. He placed his hand on the small of my back and lead me to the edge so I’d have a better view, which was shockingly sweet for the gruff man.

An hour or so later, we were all doing our thing by Dylan and Sabrina’s pool. I was laying in a lawn chair, drink in hand, on the border between tipsy and drunk, a giggling mess. At some point, everyone became comfortable with each other. Or at least, everyone but Ghost. He sat right beside me in the other lawn chair, watching over me carefully.

“You’re weird,” I hummed out, reaching out to tap him.

“You’re drunk,” he countered.

“That’s why you’re watching me so close? Cause I’m drunk?”

He cast his eyes downward, “Guess so.”

I let out a laugh, the embarrassing kind that I would inevitably regret the next day, attempting to stand up but wobbling on my legs. I just about fell but he steadied me.

“I’m gonna go get another, you want anything, silly little Ghost?” the sentence came out a slurred string of words, but he understood.

“No thank you, love,” he sounded kind, like he thought it was nice I asked, “Are you sure you need another?”

“One more won’t hurt me,” I shrugged, turning away to stumble over to the cooler and pull out yet another bottle. I found my way back beside him and plopped back down.

I couldn’t manage to get the cap off, and it was making me increasingly angry. Finally, Ghost grabbed it from me with a chuckle and took it off for me.

“So sexy when you do stuff for me,” I hummed, taking it from him and taking a long sip.

“That needs to be your last one,” he ordered and I giggled again.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“If you’d make the right choice on your own, I wouldn’t have to.”

I rolled my eyes, throwing the bottle back again. When I put it back down, Connor was in my line of sight, chuckling about something with Sabrina.

“Hey sweet cheeks, I got a real question for you,” he smirked at me, and I groaned.

“Oh God help me, what is it?”

“Will you jump in the pool with me like old times?” he implored, voice hopeful and I snorted.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on, you love bad ideas. You always have. Every time we’ve been here, we’ve jumped in the pool, don’t let this be the first time we don’t!” I still looked hesitant, and I was hesitant. I didn’t want to do it. Especially not with Simon right there, watching my every move, looking for any reason not to want anything to do with me. “Unless you’re scared?” Connor kept going. “You weren’t scared of anything when I knew you. Guess you’ve changed.”

His voice was a challenge and I knew it was a trap, but I fell right into it, indignantly arguing, “I am not scared.”

“Prove it, then. Strip.”

We got locked in a stare down before I huffed, standing from my seat, still wobbly but my determination giving me a boost. Simon helped steady me once again, still looking at me, assessing the situation.

“Fine,” I shrugged as I yanked my sweater over my head then unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them down, leaving a trail of clothes on my way to the pool. Once I got there, all I had on was my lace bra and underwear, cute and purple. I didn’t even think before going for it, jumping haphazardly into the deep end, the rush of water hitting me like a train. I felt it shift around me and knew he’d jumped in right after me as I fought to get to the surface.

I finally broke through, and took a deep breath in, laughing the loudest I had all night. Sabrina and Dylan cheered for us, mumbling on about how familiar it was to see us in their pool. I risked a glance at Ghost. He was expressionless. Well, from what I could tell.

I made my way to the side of the pool, crossing my arms there and laying my head on them.

“You’re staring,” I hummed.

“You look fucked out. You need to go fix your makeup.”

I blushed, and I knew he saw it because his eyes perked up.

“Help me out, then,” I pleaded, reaching one hand out towards him and he stared at it for a moment before making his way towards me and grabbing it. He used it to tug me up while simultaneously wrapping his other arm around my middle and pulling me out.

“You’re not gonna swim with me?” Connor pouted from the pool, and I shrugged.

“I proved my point. Swim alone.”

Ghost’s glare shut him up after that, and we headed inside to the bathroom. He left the door open behind us but we still had a sense of privacy that had never been there before.

“Here,” he sighed, opening the bag of makeup wipes that Sab had on the counter and retrieving one then using it to wipe my face. “You feel good about what you just did?”

“Well I don’t feel bad about it, if that’s what you’re asking.” He grunted. “Everyone enjoyed it but you, Ghost.”

“Yeah because everyone out there wanted to see you half naked.”

“What, you didn’t? You don’t like what you see or something?”

“I didn’t say that,” his voice was deadly, as if he was chastising me. “That wasn’t smart. You’re drunk.”

“And you’re jealous.”

“I’m telling you that you made a dangerous decision and you’re accusing me of being jealous?”

“It wasn’t dangerous, first of all. I’ve done worse than that while I was drinking. And second of all, yeah. You’re jealous. You can admit it.” He stayed quiet, finishing up my face and going to walk out but I grabbed his wrist, tugging him back. “I’ve been rejecting him in the nicest way possible all night long.”

“Why?”

“Because I was scared if I didn’t, you’d decide I wasn’t worth coming back for again.”

“You can do what you want, it’s none of my business.”

“I know.”

“You can flirt back. You can damn near fuck him right in front of me and I’ll still seek you out the next time I’m here. You don’t have to worry one bit about that.”

“Is that a promise?” I asked, and he nodded, hand cupping my cheek. “I don’t wanna flirt with him. It’s pathetic is what it is. He came here tonight for me, thinking he was gonna get in these little lace panties, and the second I saw you he was an afterthought.”

His gaze was hotter than it ever had been, pupils a little wider when I risked those words. His voice was husky, going straight through me, “How rude of you.”

“You like me pathetic, huh? You like that I’m a little desperate?”

“You’re not desperate,” he chuckled.

“I am for you.”

He groaned, his masked face falling into the crook of my neck as his hands ghosted over my hips.

“Come on, let’s get back out there,” he pulled himself away and walked out, and I made no attempt to stop him that time, still trying to catch my breath.

A moment later I managed to compose myself, and I followed outside, laying back in my lawn chair. I was still a bit wet so I didn’t bother putting my clothes back on yet, but I was shivering slightly from the cold.

“Took you long enough,” Ghost mumbled from beside me and I rolled my eyes at him, leaning even further back, my eyes shutting. All the alcohol was getting to me, making me a little sleepy.

“You’re going to sleep?” The voice was Connor’s, and it was close. Before I could even respond, I was being picked up and held tightly in arms that didn’t feel like Ghost’s. My eyes shot open to see Connor carrying me towards the water.

“What’re you doing?” I asked loudly, squirming to get away. He just chuckled, clutching me tighter.

“Waking you up,” his voice was breathless as he laughed and I started struggling harder against him.

“Let me go! Please, let me go, fuck, God-!” I was full on wrestling him now to get away, not wanting to go back in the water. Thinking how wrong it was for him to throw me in there. He always used to do stuff like that when he’d lived close, and I hadn’t minded then, but I was drunk and it was late and-

My thoughts cut off there as he was yanked back from the edge by his shoulder.

“She said she wanted to be let go.” Ghost was standing there, looking as angry as ever.

“Chill, dude, this is our thing. We’ve always done stuff like this together, she’s fine,” Connor huffed incredulously.

“Does she look fine to you?”

They looked down at me, my lip trembling, fully uncomfortable in Connor’s arms.

“Connor, please put me down,” I tried one last time, “I don’t wanna be thrown in the water. I’m cold and drunk and-“

“Give her to me.” Ghost’s tone was not a playing one, sending shivers even down my spine and I could not imagine how Connor wasn’t cracking under that pressure. “Now.”

Connor sighed, nodding, setting me down next to Ghost who pulled me close into his chest, hand stroking my wet hair and wiping my cheeks where I hadn’t realized tears were falling.

“I’m sorry,” Connor looked at me and it sounded like he really meant it. “I just - we used to do shit like this all the time. I didn’t think you would care.”

“It’s ok,” I sniffled, snuggling closer into the broad expanse of man I was leaning against, soaking up the warmth for all it was worth.

“I’m gonna take her home, I think she’s had enough for one night.” I nodded as Ghost spoke, his arms even tighter than they’d been to begin with. “Get your clothes, come on,” he whispered into my hair and I did as asked, grabbing my shirt and shorts and slipping my shoes on. I gave Connor a quick goodbye hug and waved goodbye to the rest of my friends and his, who opted to stay for a while longer. They said they’d come pick Ghost up from wherever he needed, and he nodded as we left for the night.

He opened the passenger side door of my car for me and helped me in, frowning as I shivered against the biting night air. “Put your clothes on, sweetheart,” he suggested and I shook my head.

“Don’t feel - hiccup - like it,” my voice was practically a whine and he nodded, walking over to the driver’s side. On his way, be noticed a blanket in the back seat, and when he was situated in the car, he grabbed it and placed it over me. I cuddled into it, appreciating the gesture.

“Are you okay?” he asked me, as serious as I’d ever seen him.

“‘m fine,” my voice was weak, and I didn’t really understand why I was so upset. I’d been thrown into the water before. I never enjoyed it, but it never made me cry.

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem like it.”

“I don’t know why I’m so bothered,” I shrugged, “Guess with everything that’s happened to me I just felt scared. I don’t like… I don’t like feeling like I can’t get away from someone. Not if I don’t trust them.”

“You said you’ve known him for a long time, you don’t trust him?”

“Not like -“ I paused, wondering if I should say the next part, “Not like I trust you.”

He chuckled darkly, hand falling down to my stretched out knee and rubbing.

“You don’t know me at all,” he pointed out.

“I know you a little better than you think,” I huffed, “You’ve saved me three times now. You wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

He clicked his tongue, turning the car on and pulling away, following my directions to my house. He was gentle with me the entire time until my tears stopped and I was half asleep in the seat, head slumped and eyes hazy.

He pulled in the driveway, slipping out of the car and picking me up, leaving the blanket and my clothes behind.

Once we got to the door, he took one arm off of me just long enough to unlock it with my key and walked me inside, barely caring to get a look at the place at all as he walked to the hallway in search of my bedroom.

“It’s the one at the end,” I offered and he nodded, finding it and letting himself in, laying me down on my bed.

“I’m sure you wanna get out of your wet…. clothes,” he vaguely gestured to me, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Don’t leave me here,” I gasped out, reaching desperately for his hand, “Don’t leave me here alone. I’m not ready for you to go yet.”

His eyes widened and he leaned back into me, crowding me and promising, “I’m not goin’ anywhere, just leavin’ the room to give you privacy to clean up.”

“Oh,” I hummed, relief settling in.

“You could say please, though,” his voice had that husk in it again, and I grinned.

“I don’t think I have to, you’re gonna stay either way.”

He tutted, “Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear it.”

I thought for a moment. “Fine,” I smirked, then, in the most seductive voice I could manage, I leaned up and drawled, “Please.”

His pupils blew wide and he nodded, his hand exploring my face, cupping my cheek, squeezing my chin and making my lips pucker, and then it drifted into more dangerous territory, resting around my throat. My breath hitched and he chuckled, giving one small squeeze before his touch disappeared. He walked out of the room, laughing all the way.

I rolled my eyes, going to my dresser to get clothes. I was still too sleepy to shower or anything but I at least wanted to wear something that covered me and didn’t smell like chlorine. I pulled on a T shirt and a fresh pair of panties, not bothering with more. Ghost had already seen me in just my undies, why did it matter? Then I went to the bathroom and thoroughly cleaned my face and brushed my damp and stringy hair.

Once I was done, I left my room and searched for him, finding him in the living room, lounged back on the couch like he belonged there. Wordlessly, I sat beside him, and he hummed, pulling me into his side and tucking me there comfortably.

He was so warm, I couldn’t help but sigh, sinking into him. My mind drifted to places it shouldn’t be, imagining sinking into his arms all the time. Imagining having his warmth forever. I pushed that away. Those were not feelings I needed to unpack.

Finally, I glanced up at the TV to see he’d found Forrest Gump and it was ready to play.

“Really?” I asked, the ghost of a smile on my lips.

“Wanted to see what this Lieutenant Dan was all about,” he shrugged, clicking the button and starting it.

I couldn’t pay much attention, I was much too content to just relax into his hold. I checked my phone, seeing a few missed texts from Sabrina asking if I was okay, apologizing for Connor, and of course, some innuendos about Ghost and me.

“You two have an interesting friendship.” I looked up at him as he said it and laughed.

“How so?”

“Doesn’t seem like you like each other very much.”

“That’s just how we are,” I shrugged, “She’s my best friend, we just like being mean to each other.” He grunted in response, prompting me to turn back to the movie. It didn’t take long for me to drift off, snuggled deep into him and feeling more safe and taken care of than I ever had.

I woke up to the feeling of being carried and opened my eyes slowly just as Ghost laid me in bed.

“The team is here to pick me up. I’ve got to go.”

I pouted, not ready to let him go just yet.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

“You shouldn’t drink so much, sweetheart, it makes you sappy,” he chuckled, but the look he gave me was pitiful and it only made me want him to stay more.

“I’m not being sappy, I’m being honest. I don’t do that a lot, be grateful for it.”

He sighed, sitting down beside me and stroking my hair. “I’ll be back. I don’t know when but I promise I will.”

I nodded, trying hard not to drift back to sleep, wanting those last few moments with him.

My eyes widened as he lifted his mask to his nose, exposing the stubble on his chin and cheeks. He leaned down, taking my cheeks in his hands and kissing my forehead.

Oh, I was fucked.

His lips felt so good, I was addicted and he hadn’t even kissed me properly. I felt myself getting a little closer to the edge of the cliff I was bound to fall off of.

He pulled away slightly, still close enough for me to feel his warmth, and I sighed, eyes on his lips.

“You gonna give me a real kiss, soldier?”

“Not when you’re all tired and drunk like this,” he shook his head, brushing his thumb across my lips then pulling away.

“Ghost,” I called as he made his way to the door, “Goodbye.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Get some sleep.”

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader smut #ghost x reader smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #simon ghost riley

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im-sew-curious · 11 months ago

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There’s something wrong with me. I was so excited to see this photo. Yeah, of course, for the obvious reasons. But also because it confirmed and showcased an alteration that has been done to Taemin’s clothes so he’s less likely to split his trousers.

Taemin in his pleather pants at his Metamorph concert, 2023.

He’s got crotch gussets. Such a sexy term, I know. Basically, it’s a long triangular piece of fabric that’s stitched from the crotch down into the trouser legs. This provides some extra depth to allow for a fuller range of movement during squats, lunges, etc.

The gusset is that piece of pleather, pieced inside those red lines.

Sometimes it’s made of matching stretch fabric, and sometimes it’s the same fabric as the trousers. The width and length of the triangle can vary based on the amount of extra ease required for the specific movements. In this specific pair, the gusset is truncated at the zippered knee so there’s no point.

Jinki during the Your Number Performance Video (Black Version) showcasing a beautiful example of a gusset

During a fitting, it’s important to have the performer do all of their most extreme moves to make sure things don’t bunch or bind. Since we don’t normally get…excellent crotch shots…of Taemin, like that one, I can’t tell how common it is for him to get these gussets.

If it’s a shopped garment and not custom built (I’m assuming the Metamorph pair is custom) and they have the money, it’s possible they could purchase two pairs. They could then cannibalize one pair simply to make perfectly matching gussets.

If the trouser hem is taken up quite a bit, it may also be possible to use that fabric to make some.

It's also notable that the seams in these trousers are “flat felled.” That’s the type you typically see on jeans. It’s topstitched twice so it’s a very strong seam, which also helps to prevent split crotches.

You can see the beautifully done flat felled seams at this intersection of center front seam, front and back leg, and gussets. It's so pleasing to me!

Here's what a flat felled seam looks like. Hefty jeans seam. Big, beefy jeans seam.

Perhaps his most famous “blowout” was during the 2012 performance of Sherlock at the KBS year end music show. But he’s pretty famous for them in general.

That's just impressive

I’m not quite sure when Taemin’s styling team started incorporating crotch gussets into his costumes…my research is pretty spotty.

There is one instance during his Danger era in 2014 where he had a sort of gusset installed, however, it lacked a center front seam. This, along with the fact that his trousers were riding low, didn’t provide the correct…body geometry, to broadly explain it, to really help. It was also very wide and not tapered, which widened his whole trouser leg. It was also not stitched securely enough to keep from popping open at the center front. But this is the first attempt I've seen trying to accommodate his issues.

You can see how it lacks the refinement and finesse of the future "generations" of gussets.

There were at least two instances of Taemin splitting his trousers in 2016 at a DxDxD concert and a Drip Drop live performance. His striped DxDxD suit definitely did not have gusset, and I’m unsure about the latter. I think it’s interesting that they tried a gusset on him two years prior, then didn’t again. Except….

Taemin's gusset-less suit which he wore during Shinee's DxDxD concert in 2016, which split during the show.

All of SHINee had crotch gussets in their Your Number suits in 2016. I wrote a whole thread about that here.

So basically, I’m confused. It seems like the usage of gussets in Taemin’s trousers was very sporadic.

I haven’t seen more recent examples of either gussets or split trousers, other than the Metamorph trousers. But I haven't been able to get good views of most of the things he's worn over the last 7 years. This could mean that his team has begun to incorporate gussets into more of them, or we just don’t know about the blow-outs. Or I haven't done enough research. I got a good view of the inner legs of his blue satin suit in the Idea MV and I didn’t see anything. Same with his black Criminal trousers.

Nope?

Wearing trousers high on one’s waist and very close to their body helps a great deal. You can see that in the blue satin Idea trousers. That way, the loose fabric doesn’t stretch more than it should as the legs splay apart and cause ripping. The styling team may have made sure to do that more. It’s possible that they could have also made sure to incorporate more stretch into the trousers they buy (or possibly, occasionally, make) for him.

Taemin's Kcon look. You can see how the trousers go nearly all the way up to his "natural waist" (which is where you crease when you bend to your side.) That helps keep them up to where they need to be, preventing a saggy crotch, which, in turn, prevents rips.

Working with performers for many years, one gets to know the idiosyncrasies and patterns of the way they move in their clothing. I worked with one performer in musical theatre who was infamous for splitting his trousers. We searched for matching fabric before we even tried on his trousers for the first time, knowing he would be getting gussets.

All this is to say, I applaud the stylist team for making these accommodations for Taemin. He, more than anyone, needs these alterations to give him peace of mind to perform "full out" and stay rip free!

Here’s a bonus 9 minute compilation of Taemin ripping his trousers. Serial Pants Ripper Taemin. (Cw: The last bit is uncomfortable, featuring some prompting from hosts for Minho to touch Taemin’s butt to see if it was pointy, which was preferable to the host doing so.)

#shinee #taemin #lee taemin #costumes #kpop #k pop #gussets #sewing #costume design #costume construction #shinee taemin

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aley-nag · 5 months ago

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Making my own bookcloth

Back in february I went to a convention for all kinds of crafts and found a lot of cool materials I wanted to try in lieu of bookcloth. This was my first foray:

Finished book!

In a workshop back in 2023 I learned how to back normal cloth with silk paper so that it can function as bookcloth. I was taught, that this is necessary because otherwise the glue would press through the cloth and be visible on the front. With this dragon scale styled cloth I wasn't afraid that would happen. It is very thick and has kind of a plasticky coat. So I disregarded all of that advise and just tried to do it like I would with regular bookcloth:

I noticed very quickly that the cloth kinda soaked up the glue and I needed a lot to get it wet and sticky enough. Than I ran into the problem, that my newly fashioned edge cutter was a little to narrow for such thick material. I had little holes at the corner where the cloth didn't quite overlap. It also would not really stick to the carton. First I tried pressing it down with my fingers, than with a vise. Nothing worked, it just wouldn't stick. That's how I learned there's a second reason for backing the cloth: So that it will fucking stick. The glue is not suitable for things that are not paper. So you have to adhere paper first to the cloth and then you can connect that paper to the carton.

This is how I learned to do it:

Iron the cloth until all the creases are gone. Otherwise they will stay permanently. Leave the iron on. Dilute your glue with wallpaper paste (I used the regular one for paper from a hardware store and used the strongest water/paste ratio; the paste/glue ratio I kinda eyeballed approx. 1:3). Then put it in a laquer dish like in the picture and use a roller without this really fuzzy stuff (this one is more like foam). This will help you put the glue on very quickly and evenly. Lay out the silk paper (normally you should measure the cloth larger than you need it and the silk paper a little smaller than the cloth so that you don't have glue remnants everywhere. I already cut mine so the silk paper is larger here). Roll on your glue (very quickly but make it thin and even). Then wait. Test it with your fingertips. It should still stick but not be really wet anymore. Otherwise it will press through your cloth and you will have stains. If it gets to dry it will not stick. Then carefully stretch out all the creases. If you think it is right, put on the cloth, flip it and go over the silk paper with an iron. Be careful not to rip the paper (this will happen if it was still to wet). Check that the cloth isn't creasing. Try to get it as flat as possible. After the paper is dry, flip it again and go over the cloth side.

After I did that I had less problems. The cloth still needed to be pressed with a vise because it was so thick, but it held.

I mismeasured the back of the bookblock though and had to do it all over again... Well, you learn through practise and the second attempt was much prettier as well.

I used marbled paper I got from that retailer from hell and then I again fucked up with the Cricut (forgot to mirror the letters). Otherwise I am very pleased with the result and my cousin (the recipient) was also quite happy.

Binding Details

Bookblock was premade from schmedt.de

Endpapers from the retailer from hell (that I'm not gonna link)

Cloth from taschen-zubehoer.de

#bookbinding #fanbinding #bookbinding journey #bookcloth

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schadentekkers · 5 months ago

Note

Any match recs for someone getting into DDT/TJPW?

hello and thank you for entrusting me with this task, i feel honored and under prepared, but incredibly excited. yippee!

**linking all of the matches via wrestle universe, which i highly highly recommend for the amount of content you get for the price! i believe you can also do a free trial (which got me when i wanted to watch zack on noah and then i spiraled from there. but i digress.) and if you don't dig it you can cancel it! ALSO i'm sure these are mostly available via different avenues if you're like ok we get it shut up about wrestle universe.**

DDT ~

i made a chris brookes specific match rec list a few months back, which are still a lot of my favorite matches and ones i recommend for getting into ddt, so i will send you there before listing off some more! (also want to rec ueno vs higuchi from the king of ddt show as well!)

STREET WRESTLING at IZU-KOGEN GRANILLUMI - one of the first ddt shows i ever watched and i literally had the time of my life. so much silly fun that i feel really encompasses ddt.

TAKESHITA, SASAKI, & KANON vs. MAO, UENO, & TO-Y at SUMMER VACATION 2023 - a solid match as well as solid storytelling within 37kamiina !!

UENO vs. SAKAGUCHI at KAWASAKI STRONG 2021 - really really really good match... ueno suffers so beautifully at the hands of sakaguchi. (unfortunately sakaguchi recently retired and i've been sad about it every day since)

SAKAGUCHI vs. HIGUCHI at GOD BLESS DDT 2022 - a true banger i'm gonna be honest here

CHRISDREW vs. SHUNMAO at D-OH GRAND PRIX 2021 IN OTA-KU - it is a hardcore match so there is use of unconventional weapons (see: legos and plastic bins) and blood, so be warned if that's not your thing! a comfort match for me tbh..

there is also a rumble style match where everyone is in swim trunks that i want to rec but i cannot for the life of me find it rn. so anyways. these are some great ones to start with, i think. i also recommend just watching like, a big show and seeing who catches your fancy as my lists are often skewed by my biases lol. ultimate party 2023 is a good one to start with if you go that route!

TJPW ~

MIYU YAMASHITA vs. MIU WATANABE at GRAND PRINCESS '24 - SO GOOD. so good. so so so good. one of those matches you remember feeling every single emotion ever. if that makes sense

RINA YAMASHITA vs. MAKI ITOH at TJPW '24 - super fun, as you would expect. rina and maki have a cute-off and everything. there is also blood so a warning for that!

YUKI KAMIFUKU vs. VIVA VAN at WE ARE TJPW - i haven't watched this since seeing it live, but i remember really enjoying it and it's one of the matches that really made me love kamiyu..i already loved her from the ddt street wrestling show mentioned above, but this match was a standout from her (for me)

MIZUKI & HIMAWARI vs. POM HARAJUKU & SHOKO NAKAJIMA at SUMMER FESTIVAL 2023 - the sillies!!

MIZUKI ALL AROUND BATTLE ROYAL at ANGEL AND RABBIT - everyone is mizuki and it's incredible. if anything, watch for pom's attempt at whirling candy and also her bridge out of a pin <3

POM HARAJUKU vs. YUKI ARAI at MAX HEART PRINCESS TOURNAMENT - the match that started it all for me, i think. pom in all of her goofy glory.

again, recommending watching one of the big shows and seeing what moves you! grand princess '24 would probably be a good place to start!!

and hopefully these are enough to make you want to watch bc both promotions are just so good. like.. i cannot recommend them enough, literally begging everyone to start watching them bc i am SOOOOO glad that i did!

#💌#also friends feel free to rb and add any that you particularly love..#thank you again for asking i had a great time putting this little list together

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absolutebl · 1 year ago

Note

Hey Abl, trust you are well. So I took a month off bl to deal with life stuff and upon my return there's a lot of new shows and I'm feeling overwhelmed and need to prioritize. What should I start with that started airing in late October/November? Spanx!

BL Quick Picks - End of 2023 Releases

That finished its run? Sorry I don't keep that close track of things ending but stuff I loved that ended relatively recently as follows. (I'm giving you a range of styles to suit your mood.)

Felling light and fluffy?

Jun & Jun

(Korea Viki)

A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. Others boys are sniffing around too. Operative word being "sniffing" as much of this romance involves smell. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching. With tons of rewatch potential (especially the last few eps), my only caution is this is for fans of the BL genre only, I don’t think it’ll work for anyone else. 9/10

Feeling complex and drama llama?

I Feel You Linger in the Air

(Thailand grey, YT for some)

I truly loved this time travel romance. IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but no as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy BL… from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show should easily have earned a 10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls. Argh. Whatever. 9/10

Feeling odd and chaotic?

Why R U?

(Korea iQIYI)

Korea decided to remake, of all possible Thai BLs, Why RU? And that is exactly what we got: a short form, clean & pretty, slightly confusing, uneven chemistry, all the same tropes KBL that kind of cliff-noted the original but with none of the heat or complex relationship dynamics. I just … what world is this? Because it is BOTH bizarro land, and EXACTLY what I expected. How do I rate it? In the end I have to go back to simple questions: did I like it, would I rewatch it, and would I recommend it? Yes. Probably. And probably not. What the actual hell? 8/10

Feeling dark and complex?

Tokyo in April is AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa

(Japan Viki)

Two young men with a shared tragic past reunite and fall in love all over again, but the past will not stop hunting them. Based on a manga, this office set reunion romance is GREAT… damn it. It’s Japan in full on soft focus which means it gets emo, abusive, and chewy. These two characters are giving parts of their souls away in a desperate attempt to shape themselves to the expectations they have of each other. Japan gave us the Bed Friends that Thailand could never even imagine. But here’s the thing: I don’t enjoy my BL this heavy and cutting. I know that for The 8th Sense crowd this is peak BL and I can’t argue with the fact that the romantic devotion, domesticity, script, and acting IS all on point. It’s just not my personal preference for that point to be so damn sharp. I appreciate that this being 2023 I have the luxury of consistent quality (especially from Japan) and thus the ability to say… I acknowledge that this SHOULD get a 9/10 but I can’t emotionally go higher than 8/10

Feeling sappy and in need of comfort?

Stay By My Side

(Taiwan Viki)

This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Unfortunately, the story was erratic and waffled about. While the leads turned in solid performances and the sappy domesticity was off the charts, it never really had the strength of the narrative convictions such a strong concept should have supplied. Highly rewatchable and enjoyable for that sappy domesticity but not a whole lot more. Still I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity. 8/10

Feeling sexy?

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

(Japan Gaga)

I liked it a lot and it's classic yaoi of the kind that really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat from Japan and well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's good, but watching requires more patience than usual, even from Japan. 8/10

Feeling sweet and earnest?

Sing My Crush

(Korea iQIYI)

This a cute coming of age drama around music and 2 kinds of self acceptance and actualization journeys. This was basically Korea’s version of About Youth, and was perhaps a bit too soft and ungrounded by comparison, like a marshmallow sculpture. Sweet but somewhat lacking in discernible flavor. 8/10

If you want to know what I'm enjoying that's airing right now, I'm mot yet caught up this week but I have time today so the weekly ranking will drop in a few hours. But I can tell you with confidence that very little is likely to unseat...

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thailand iQiyi)

from my affections right now. I love it unconditionally and it's airing on iQIYI.

#asked and answered #2023 BL recomendations #end of year only #ouch burn on GMMTV none of theirs made the cute #stop fuckign up GMMTV #thai bl #japanese bl #korean bl #taiwanese bl #my dear gangster oppa #Sing My Crush #my personal weatherman #Stay By My Side #Tokyo in April is #Why R U? Korea #i feel you linger in the air #Jun and Jun #viki #gaga

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fayes-fics · 1 year ago

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Hormones [Drabble - Benophie Remix]

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

Summary: Sophie suffers from pregnancy hormones.

Warnings: A bit suggestive? Non-graphic references to sex. Attempt at humour.

Prompt: Day 7 Word - Baby

Author’s note: Remixed this comedy drabble for @benophieweek 2023. Enjoy! <3

“Wait, I think that was someone... I really think we should maybe… Ohhh….”

With a squeeze of internal muscles, Sophie manages to shut him up.

“I don't care if someone is there, Benedict,” she answers, breathing hard, “we are doing this,” dragging forcefully up and down in his lap.

“Alright… but let's do it quietly, please,” he implores with a pleading look in his eye, holding her hips loosely.

“You’ll have to gag me,” she warns testily, hormones raging.

“Fine, but just don't bite my hand this time, please?” he sighs, almost weary.

—

Sophie never expected to become that person.

But four months into her first pregnancy, that is precisely the person she has become.

Anything, yes, anything, can make her lust-filled. Last week just the look of a peach had her storming across the house to pull down his trousers bossily.

Benedict is not sure what to make of it, frankly. At first, the novelty was very arousing, but now weeks later, Sophie swears he has taken to hiding from her on occasion.

Today there's not even a particular trigger. It's a warm sunny day, and she is tending to some roses when the urge appears, intense and sudden. With a quick inhale, Sophie drops her pruning sheers, tears off her gardening gloves and strides purposefully to where she last saw Benedict.

He’s still there - painting the rolling hills of the countryside, idly flicking some flower detail into the bottom right corner of the picture with a fine brush.

“Hello love,” he starts, “how are y…mpffhh.”

His words are cut off by her lips landing on his forcefully.

“Hold my face,” she orders between kisses.

“My hands are covered in paint!” he protests as she briefly lets him up for air.

“I do not give a….” she warns, diving back in, and he does as asked, smearing paint along her jawline and cheeks. He knows better than to argue when Sophie is like this.

“What was it this time?” he asks dryly as she attacks his trouser buttons with an enthusiasm that implies they cause her some personal offence. “See a particularly nice piece of fruit? A suggestively shaped vegetable?” he laughs to himself at that one.

“Get on the ground Benedict, right now,” she growls.

“Alright, alright, fine, give me a chance, will you,” he laughs again, genuinely baffled by how furious Sophie can be when she’s horny. He has decided to categorise it as adorable. Slightly terrifying but adorable.

“This baby is your bloody fault”, she bemoans through gritted teeth, gathering up her dress and straddling him unceremoniously. “Now take me hard, husband, or you do not get any naming rights. I’ll call it Ethel. Especially if it's a boy.”

He pulls a face. “You wouldn't; that's bordering on child cruelty.”

“Then you had better do a good job.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

No taglist as this isn't my usual style

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton #benedict x sophie #benophie #benophie week 2023 #benophie fanfiction #benophie fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton

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ros3ybabe · 1 year ago

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Daily Check in - October 18th, 2023 🎀

Hello my lovelies <3

Here's a little update for today!! It feels nice to be posting again!

🩷 What I Ate Today -

Breakfast - southern style hashbrowns with ketchup, a cup of coffee

Pre Workout snack - one medium banana and a 3/4oz single serve cup of jiffy peanut butter, 1/4 scoop of preworkout (in water ofc)

Lunch - 1 large bowl of protein pasta w 2 slices of buttered bread, a coffee

Dinner - 1 bowl of spicy ramen with a small handful on shredded cheese

Snack - 1 bowl of mint chip ice cream

Extra - 3 cups of coffee TOTAL

Feels like a lot and I did go over my eating goal for the day but it is what it is, I had an emotionally rough day filled with a lot of crying, a therapy appointment, and a lot of calming down from my boyfriend over video call. Rough days happen, and I tend to let myself just feel the emotions in order to sleep easy and have a better next day!

🩷 Personal Accomplishments -

Made it to the gym, attempted a glute workout (left early due to frustration, lack of proerpr form, and to minimize risk of injury)

Wrote down everything I ate and my workouts in my new fitness and health journal

Showered

Did both morning and night skincare routines

journaled a little bit

brushed teeth

did a large load of laundry and put away all clean clothes

washed dishes

had a therapy appointment

cleaned up parts of room, put away new stuff

There were no academic accomplishments bit I am going to complete a good amount of homework before my cooking shift (for my cooking class) tomorrow. I've been trying to take it easy in a way that doesn't set me behind in my academics.

I broke down crying today with my boyfriend. I realized I've been feeling like such an imposter lately. Like I don't deserve all the good and all the accomplishments I've achieved. Like this life I'm living isn't real or this is the calm before some storm. I just feel so undeserving of everything. I feel inadequate, like I'm not good enough for a lot of thing. I feel like I'm perceived as this good daughter, good friend, good girlfriend, good employee, good student, good person but that it's not actually true? Though my boyfriend and my father have both reassured me that it is true and I am doing good. They've reminded me that I just need patience, discipline, and consistency in my habits and that everything is going to be and already is okay. I'm lucky to have such a loving boyfriend and such an awesome dad, too. The men in my life are the people I look up to most <3

🩷 Personal ToDos, Oct 19th -

morning + night skincare

morning cardio workout at the gym

read a chapter or two of a self help book

shower + brush teeth AM/PM

wash comforter + air dry

morning and night guided journal

morning stretching

Daily journal prompt

zoom call with boyfriend

sleep 6 to 8 hours

track all food and fitness in journal

complete 1 duolingo lesson

complete 1 busuu leson

complete 1 kanji review lesson

🩷 Academic ToDos, Oct 19th -

pre lab 8 quiz anatomy lab

lab 7 lab report anatomy lab

component 2 psyc class

nutrition chart: toddler nutrition class

quiz 10 psyc class

culinary nutrition ch 10 quiz

chapter 12 and 13 quiz nutrition class

My goal is to complete all of that between the time I wake up at 5am and 2pm with my morning routine, workout, meals, and getting ready for my cooking thing all in between. But I can do it, I'm not worried. I'll have the time to do it all! I just need to manage my time and not be on my phone as much.

I'm trying to get back into listening to podcasts and watching more producitve and healthy vlogs from youtubers I enjoy! I'm currently watching vlogs and content from Rebecca Jay, Michaela Bento, The Bliss Bean, LenaLifts, truly.jia, Study to Success, Lindie Botes (her earlier language videos), and Mikalya Mags. My favorite podcast is The 5AM Miracle: Healthy Productivity for High Acheivers by Jeff Sanders.

If you have any health, lifestyle, fitness, or productivity youtubers or podcast recommendations please comment them or inbox me so I can check them out!! I am always looking for new content to enjoy!!!

til next time lovelies 🩷

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roseglazedlens · 1 year ago

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⦑ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥 ⦒ ✧.*

pairing(s): jack krauser x masc! reader synopsis: your fiancé is late from his morning runs once again. he's hiding something, you don't know what it is yet, but you will uncover the truth on your special day—september 19th 2023. content: masculine pronouns used twice, fluff, misunderstanding trope, mentions of metaltango a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sporeghost for turning 27!!! did i surprise you hehehhe? :3 for rhys, the no.1 krauser supporter! thank you for reaching out, for being my first follower + friend on this platform, you're always so nice to me & such a writing inspiration! also busted my ass trying a new style on this (word doc says 56 hours oml) - tbh idk if any of it makes sense, but if it did, hope you enjoy it!! « 1.8 k words┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreciated! »

Footsteps, lightly tread across the floorboard. Barely a squeak breathes the dawn mist as Krauser tightens his sneaker’s laces, attempting to not rouse you from your slumber. His routine of discipline ingrained into him—unyielding—even during his off days. The gentle thuds fade into the silence, with only a dull creak of the door to signal Krauser leaving your shared home.

You shift yourself in the cocoon of white linen, rolling into the warm side of the bed where your fiancé just laid. Smother yourself in the pillows that still linger his morning scent and the reminders of his residue warmth. This isn’t unusual for you and your fiancé—you had accustomed to his early morning antics during these years of common lodging.

Yet it is unusual that in these couple of weeks, he leaves home much later, and often staying past afternoon outside. A brewing suspicion stalks your thoughts—that whether these early mornings are just ‘runs’ or an attempt to escape from the serenity and comfort.

The door creaks open as you are lounging on the couch. The sun is hanging high now, blinding the floorboards on your living space. It was almost the afternoon—No call, no text, no ‘I’ll be late’. You tried to get comfortable, read a little, shoo the irrationality from your conscious despite your better judgement. After all, Krauser has been nothing but the best fiancé in the world beside this short period of time.

“How was your run, Jack?” You lower your book slightly when Krauser enters the room, inspecting him from the corner of your eye.

“It was good, sweetie.” Krauser responds as he unties his shoelaces. Taking firm steps to you. Bending over to plant a kiss on your forehead. Nothing out of the ordinary. “How was your book?”

“Good.” You lie. Your mind so occupied that you were just reading words, not sentences. Even the lustful thrills and toe-clenching horrors of Stephen King can’t get you out of this sickened mood.

You can’t help but notice how his shirt isn’t sweat-stained, his hair still slicked back, which he never does before a run because it will sweat into its original state. The thought weighs your mind as Krauser positions his exercise bag next to the couch as he slumps to the seat next to you.

“You’re a bit late today.” It isn’t your intention to ambush him the moment he comes home, but it sure sounds like it.

Those eyelashes bat with steady coolness, reaching over you to collect the TV remote. Not even an impulsive twitch on his finger, like nothing was wrong. Like there wasn’t a question viciously aching your brain and plaguing your thoughts. You see bandaids over his left hand—between the creased joint of his thumb, across the open arch of pliant skin sloping towards the rest of the fingers. Through the corner of your eyes, you see the strip tugged around the pads of his index finger—still freshly beige instead of greying from everyday wear and tear.

You can’t figure out whether it was just his serene normality or his unpiercable lie, one that he had grown proficient in after years of training.

“Yeah. It was a long run.” A pause. Airing with a tension of something unsaid. The charming voices spoken through the TV felt solemn, sarcastic with how their laughter fractures the space you share. You clear your throat. “Anything else?”

“Not really.” Krauser sits in his silence, retreating into his own world that feels far, far away from you right now. You notice he hasn’t looked at you once, and then those same eyes turn to you. He knows you’re watching him, waiting for him to say something, demanding an answer—of any kind—to soothe the thoughts in your brain.

Krauser hesitates, fumbling the words as he does so. “I guess… I ran into Leon at the park.”

“Leon, huh.” Jealousy creeps behind your throat, following with a venom that taints your breath. “What— so you’re telling me, you came home late. And just happen to bump into Leon?”

“Look— It’s not what you think.” Krauser opens his mouth in attempts of honesty, but closes into a lie. “We just talked. That’s all.”

“You’re hiding something from me, Jack.” Your fists clench itself first, then threatens with a hitch of breath that will crack the glass that’s been patched together over and over. The words came out weak, much weaker than you anticipated. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I didn’t even stop to say hi.” He frantically clicks through the channels, hoping to find something that may diverge your attention to the screen, and ultimately, dropping this whole topic together.

“You and Leon— did something happen? I won’t get mad, I promise.”

“Drop it.” His answer is straight. Rough on the edges. A command. Too militarian for you who simply desires honesty and transparency. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”

The remote drops to the floor.

A thud. A harsh clack. The device’s back compartment detaches, and the batteries fall, rolling away. Alike the distance between you two, coming undone and splaying across the hardwood floor. Krauser curses a little under his breath as he grabs the batteries, grateful that can buy extra time for his answer and composure.

“Wanna watch something?” His voice slows, as if to convince himself he’s not mad—doesn’t deserve to be—for being the one who raises his voice. But those are merely words, not actions, to diffuse tension that suffocates: laboured and too late. You let his request hang the air as you rise, beelining to the bedroom door as you leave him in the grief of betrayed silence.

September 19th

You begin to regret every part of this petty fight you have been upholding on your end. Krauser tries to call a truce with you every night, seducing you with meaningless praise while simultaneously not revealing the truth that aches your brain.

Krauser crawls into your side of the bed, embracing you—and despite being hardly awake, you are awake enough to comprehend all the ridges of his chest and ab muscles flushing against your back—which earns a slight groan from you as you pull his arm over you. You guess you can make an exception, it being your birthday after all.

“Happy birthday, my fiancé.” He pecks a kiss onto your shoulders, submerging you in both the warmth of his words and body.

You whispered a laboured ‘thanks’ underneath sleepy breath. Something about being embraced by your lover as the dawn hits is magical, but at this moment, you slide away with how the thoughts over the brewing tension these past few days.

Krauser sighs understandingly, turning over to his bedside table to rustle something from his drawers before turning back to you. “You might not be mad at me after this.”

You watch as his hands hold out something in his back. Curious instinct leads you to lean in and peek behind him, which Krauser shifts the item to his other hand, disguising it from your view. You scoff: “Well, can I have it?”

“Huh. Not mad anymore?” A corner of his lips upturn into a snicker.

Your frown. “Keep this up, maybe I’ll stay mad.”

“But don’t you want your present?” Krauser is grinning. He’s enjoying this too much. Bringing his hand forward, a box—humble in size and shape—in front of you, ribbon dangling through the hook between his index finger. As you lift your arms, Krauser moves it higher up where you cannot reach.

“I should be getting two gifts, one for an apology and another for my birthday.” You taunt at him some more, snatching the box from his fingers to nestle it in your arms. Ribbon ties crookedly on the top, and the birthday wrapping messily tucked into the side only elevates the charm of its homemade genuineness and warmth.

You look at the box, then turn your head up to Krauser again. He gives you a smiling nod, a go-ahead to unravel your gift. Then you peel off the gift wrap, careful at first, but eventually tearing them apart when the wrapping can’t be preserved. You open the lid.

Two wooden sculptures, just short of six inches. Each consist of a short bulky stem imprinted with a face, a sloped cap—painted red and green with careful dotted whites—shielding the face like a tiny umbrella. The left figure has a pinched eyebrow, dips forming downturned lips that made it look so serious. A distinct cheek scar running across his face that you recognise from anywhere. And the other figure… well, that’s you.

“What…” You shuffle your lookalike out of its cardboard support and hold it in your palm, spinning it to catch all the details in the light.

Krauser grins, picking up the other figure to position it next to his cheek. Then he copies the sculpture’s expression, almost uncannily alike himself. You let out a snicker at the sight, and as if your smile is contagious, he laughs too, breaking character. “Well… I might have spent too many tries perfecting this.”

You look at the two little mushroom sculptures next to each other. It’s no professional work, but each careful dip and curve is genuine, practiced and carved with love. You feel Krauser’s gaze on you.

“You made this?” Now you notice the gentle dip of bags underneath his eyes. Lids are droopy. Exerted.

“Do you like it?” He asks, tone growing softer in relief.

You didn’t answer, simply letting your replica’s face lightly crash against each other. Krauser inches closer, falling his lips against yours. The kiss is brief, but long enough for the exchange of mutual connection and forgiveness. You smile once more, placing the two sculptures right next to your window sill. It sits proudly on your sill as the light shines in, as if it belongs there perfectly.

“I’m not very good at lying, as you’ve figured out. I just needed any excuse so you won’t figure out your surprise.” Krauser lets out a deep sigh of relief, tapping you on your nose affectionately. “Thank god it’s over. I never want to hide anything from you again.”

“Thank you.” came your sincere gratitude. “Maybe you should teach me how to do this.”

“Oh, I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s harder than it looks.” He pulls you closer, lessening the distance between you two. “Besides, those beautiful hands of yours shouldn’t be touching those sharp knives.”

“What if I don’t mind a bit of danger?”

“Well...” Krauser snickers, bringing his lips to your forehead. “Then I guess I can teach you a few things, my prince.”

“Oh, so you’re my knight now, is it?” You chuckle.

“Yes, your highness.” Krauser bows his head humorously, trying to his best not to chuckle. “Anything you heart desires.”

“If that’s case,” You wrap your hands around his back, and falls back onto the bed, pulling him with you. “I’m ordering you to stay.”

Krauser looks at you, the warmth in his chest blooming. And for a moment, nothing mattered. Just you and this bed is all he needs. He smiles deeply this time.

“We can definitely arrange that.”

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @scar-crossedlvrs @obsolescent © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱#jack krauser #jack krauser x reader #jack krauser x you #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #x male reader #resident evil fluff #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction

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