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lortsyall · 1 month ago

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Echoes of Eywa's Child.

chapter 2.

(Neteyam x Human!Reader series)

Pending...Pending...

Date: August 10th,2174.

Location: Marui,High Camp,Mons Veritatis,Hallelujah Mountains,Pandora.

Time: 1:56 PM.

Life had always demanded more of me. As the eldest son of Toruk Makto the 6th, I was born into expectations as heavy as the mountains, molded by a legacy I had no choice but to carry. For as long as I could remember, my path was laid before me—protector, warrior, leader,big brother. It was a path carved in blood and sacrifice, one I couldn’t veer from even if I wanted to.

The war had changed everything. When the RDA returned when I was only 15,four years ago, they came with the same greed, the same hunger to strip Eywa’s creation of its breath. Their machines burned forests and poisoned rivers, their soldiers brought death with cold precision. But the war wasn’t just an enemy out there—it had carved itself into me.

I’d come closer to death than I care to admit. Fleeing to the Metkayina clan with my family,away from Quaritch and his puppets,was traumatizing,to say the least.

I always fit in the Omatikaya clan. I was already respected by so many clan leaders across the globe,already seen as a strong-willed,responsible and noble young warrior. The perfect next Olo'eyktan in line. But here...at sea...I was too stubborn to learn the ways of the Metkayina,scared I might lose myself. My ancestors. My traditions. The forest...Everything.

Sooner or later though,you always have to wake up back to reality. The RDA’s ships had pursued us relentlessly, their weapons tearing through the sea and air like the rage of a storm. After saving my siblings and our friend,Tsireya,my brother insisted on saving Spider as well.

I'll admit,I followed my mother's steps in distancing myself away from him as the years went by,though the brotherly bond we have carried ever since childhood lingered like a lost memory. Plus,I couldn't deny Lo'ak anything. Not in that moment.

As soon as we turned our backs to jump into the water,though...I felt it.

I’d hit the water hard, the force ripping the breath from my lungs. I fought to surface, but the panic, the crushing weight of the sea—it almost won.

All I could hear were Lo'ak's desperate cries pulling me on an ilu as he dragged me back to shore,along with the others. When I woke up, the first thing I felt was pain—white-hot and searing, burning across my chest where shrapnel had torn through flesh. The Tsahìk saved me, but she couldn’t erase the scar, jagged and cruel, that now ran from my collarbone to just above my heart,nor the memory that came with it. A bitter reminder of how close I’d come to losing everything.

That scar has stayed with me, a mark of survival, but also of failure. I should’ve been stronger, faster, better. I’m alive, but at what cost? The memory of my siblings’ terror, my parents’ fear—it’s a weight I still carry, even in moments of peace.

Sometimes,I still hear my mother's screams late at night. It's terrifying.

And now, the war feels like a constant shadow, lingering even in the quiet. I’ve learned to keep my thoughts guarded, my fears buried. We're back in the forest,thankfully,but we still live in the Hallelujah Mountains. The clan looks to me for strength, for guidance. They see a warrior who has proven himself time and time again. They don’t see the cracks beneath, the moments when I wonder if I’ve given too much of myself to a fight that may never truly end.

I’m of age now. Been for some time. I went through all the rites of passage,starting with becoming the youngest Omatikaya to make a clean kill on the Sturmbeest hunt,going through Iknimaya,and surviving Uniltaron,the Dream Hunt. After transferring into adulthood, an Omatikaya Na'vi has two things left to do: craft a bow from the wood of the fallen Hometree,and find a mate. Yet I've checked only one thing on the list,and I guess it's obvious which one I'm talking about.

I get it. I'm 19 years old now. Old enough that the elders murmur about a mate, about settling down and adding to the clan’s numbers. My parents don’t pressure me—at least not directly—but I see it in my father’s proud nods, my mother’s quiet glances. They’re waiting for me to choose, to find someone who will stand beside me as I carry the mantle of our people. Not to mention,my brother has already been mated to Tsireya,and some people among the clan are...nosy, to say the least.

But how can I think of mates when my mind is a battlefield? When every time I look at the stars, I see the faces of those we’ve lost? Love feels like a luxury I can’t afford, a vulnerability I can’t risk. I can feel my father breathing down my neck,slowly preparing me with Olo'eyktan training. I don't even want to be the next chief. Not anymore. I’ve buried the idea so deep within me that even the thought of connection feels foreign,and I can't remember the first time I really opened up to someone. They already have their image of me.

Fierce young warrior. Next chief in line. Son of Toruk Makto. Great,right?Why should I ruin that for them?

And yet, there’s a part of me that wonders—when will I be more than this? When will I be something more than a protector, more than a warrior? Is there space for Neteyam beneath the weight of it all?

The air was thick with the smell of burning metal and the acrid tang of gunpowder. Around me, the sounds of battle echoed through the forest—the hum of RDA machinery, the snap of Na’vi bows, the shouts of humans and my people alike. My heart pounded in my chest, not from fear, but from the weight of responsibility.

My feet barely made a sound as I landed on the roof of the human truck. Beneath me, I could hear their muffled voices, panicked and sharp. They were scrambling, caught off guard by our ambush. Good.

I moved to the edge, my bow drawn and ready, scanning for my next target. That’s when I saw…her.

She was crouched behind a crate, her wide eyes darting around in terror. Her skin was almost glowing in the dim light, and her hands trembled as they gripped a human weapon. She was small, fragile even, compared to the others.

A soldier, perhaps? No, she didn’t move like one. She was scared, out of place. A tablet was in her small and dainty fingers,and it looked oddly familiar,like the ones Max and Norm usually toy with in the lab. So a scientist,then. Doesn’t matter.

I drew my bowstring tighter, the arrow poised to fly. My target was clear, my purpose steady. Until I saw it.

An atokirina.

The seed of the sacred tree floated gently down, its soft glow cutting through the chaos. My breath caught as it hovered near the girl, circling her like it was studying her. And then it landed, just for a moment, on her shoulder. Didn’t this happen to my parents when they met?

Eywa was watching. Yet the girl didn’t notice.

I hesitated, my fingers loosening on the bowstring. This wasn’t normal. The atokirina didn’t just appear without reason, and they didn’t linger around those unworthy of Eywa’s blessing. Yet here it was, touching her—a human.

Her gaze was fixed on the ground, her breathing shallow. She had no idea the seed was there, no idea what it meant,too focused on her own panicked heavy breathing.

The voices of the other warriors faded into the background. For a moment, it was just her, the glowing seed, and me.

I lowered my bow.

I could hear my father’s voice in my head, a memory from years ago: "Eywa sees more than we do, Neteyam. Sometimes, the why is not ours to understand."

“Drop it,” I said, my voice steady despite the conflict brewing inside me.

She looked up, startled, her eyes locking onto mine. Great Mother,what pretty eyes she has. It’s as if I could see her entire soul through them. For a second, I thought she might try to fight, but instead, she set the weapon down on the truck bed. Slowly, carefully.

I studied her. She was different from the others—softer, quieter. And yet, there was something in her eyes that spoke of a hidden strength. And me?Well,let’s just say there was something almost…ethereal and noble in her fear that made me admire her.

“You do not belong here,” I said.

Her lips parted, as if she wanted to respond, but no words came out. The atokirina hovered again, as if to emphasize my point, before drifting off into the trees.

I couldn’t explain why, but I felt a strange pull toward her. Not sympathy—not yet—but curiosity. Eywa had chosen her for something, and it wasn’t my place to question the will of the Great Mother.

The sound of an AMP suit crashing nearby snapped me back to reality.

“Run,” I urged her, my voice low.

“What—”

“Go!” I barked, the command sharper now. She flinched but obeyed, scrambling off the truck and disappearing into the chaos. I cannot let the others see her,or she’ll get an arrow straight to her heart. The Great Mother put this responsibility in my hands,and I simply cannot let her get hurt. It must be a sign.

When the ambush was over, I retreated with the others, my thoughts still tangled around the human girl. The site was a mess,but at least we did what we had in mind. All of their cargo was either destroyed or stolen,and I doubt they won’t send out search parties for our heads.

Back at our camp, I sat by the fire, staring into the flames thoughtfully. Their dance was mesmerizing, a kaleidoscope of amber and gold licking against charred wood, with hints of blue at the edges where the heat was fiercest. The fire cracked and hissed, tiny sparks shooting upward to join the stars above. It felt alive, almost like Eywa herself whispered through its flickering rhythm.

Yet, even as the flames captivated me, my thoughts were elsewhere. On her. The girl in the forest.

Her scent still lingered faintly in my memory, something soft and sweet, like flowers I couldn’t name mixed with earth after rain. Her big eyes had been filled with fear, yet there had been something else too—curiosity, maybe? Defiance? I couldn’t decide which had unsettled me more. Her delicate frame, so unlike the strength we Na’vi pride ourselves on, seemed breakable, yet her spirit shone through her trembling form.

And then there was the atokirina. A single seed of the great tree had floated between us, its gentle glow bathing her face in an ethereal light. It had hovered briefly, as though weighing something unseen, before drifting closer to her. The moment felt... significant, as though Eywa herself had chosen her. Funny how she did not even notice such a blessing.

I had been ready to draw my bow, my duty clear in my mind. Sky People were a threat. A poison. It doesn’t matter that I share both human and Na’vi ancestors. Neither does the fact that my dad was one of them once. In my eyes,he is Na’vi. Just as everyone part of the Resistance. Yet the sight of her—so pure, so deliberate,so…utterly chaotic and scared—lingers in my thoughts. Something in me shifted then, a quiet nudge deep within my soul. I let her go, even when I knew my parents would question my decision.

Now, as the fire crackled before me, I couldn’t help but wonder: who was she? Why did Eywa send a sign? And why did I feel as though letting her go had set something far greater into motion?

The camp was buzzing with movement. The humans part of the Resistance were all in the biolab quarters, tending to their Avatars’ wounds. Lo’ak, my younger brother, plopped down beside me, his usual smirk replaced by a look of concern.

“You’re quiet,” he said, poking at the fire with a stick. “Sa’eyla said some shit went down. Something happen out there?”

I hesitated. “There was a girl.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A girl? Like, a human girl?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice firm. “And Eywa sent an atokirina to her.”

Lo’ak looked at me, confused, the stick in his hand forgotten. “What do you mean?”

I let out a loud sigh. Why is this interaction with her bothering me so much? “Just as I was ready to fire my bow, an atokirina landed on the head of this tawtute eve. As if telling me to lower my bow.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am.”

He let out a low whistle. “Well, that’s... something.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “What are you gonna do about it?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. For now. It’s not like I can do much, anyway.”

“Sounds like someone’s already in over his head,” came Kiri’s teasing voice as she approached from the shadows. She carried a bundle of herbs, her expression curious. “What’s this about an atokirina?”

Lo’ak smirked, scooting over to make room for her by the fire. “Our big brother here almost got bested by Eywa’s will.”

Kiri raised an eyebrow, sitting down. “That sounds interesting. Go on.”

I hesitated, but I knew Kiri’s connection to Eywa might help make sense of this. “There was a human girl. She wasn’t like the others—she didn’t fight. And an atokirina came to her. It lingered above her head. Right as I was about to…to kill her.”

Kiri’s expression turned thoughtful. She set the herbs aside, her hands resting on her knees. “Eywa does not make mistakes, Neteyam.”

“I know,” I said, frustrated. “But why her? She’s... she’s one of them. I have no idea why it’s bothering me so much. It’s like a buzz in my head.”

Lo’ak snorted. “Maybe the Great Mother’s matchmaking now.”

“Lo’ak,” Kiri said sharply, shooting him a look that silenced his grin. Her attention returned to me. “Eywa sees the heart, not the body. Maybe this girl is different. Maybe she’s meant to change something.”

I frowned, staring at the fire as its light danced across the darkened camp. “But how can I trust that? How can I trust her? I don’t even know her name and yet…” I hesitated, running a hand down my face. I really don’t need another teasing remark from Lo’ak. “Gosh, I don’t even want to think about it anymore. Forget it.”

Kiri smiled faintly, her voice soft. “Sometimes, Eywa doesn’t ask for trust. She asks for faith.”

Lo’ak leaned back, looking between us with a sly grin. “Well, sounds like you’ve got a lot to think about, bro. Or maybe, you’re just scared of a tawtute girl.”

I shot him a glare, but Kiri nudged his arm before I could retort. “Leave him alone, Lo’ak,” she said, her tone amused but protective. “This isn’t something to joke about.”

Her gaze returned to me, her expression serious. “Whatever it is, Neteyam, trust that Eywa will reveal it in time. You’ll know what to do when the moment comes.”

And as the fire crackled between us, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of her words. Whether I was ready for it or not, my path—and hers—was no longer just my own.

In the days following the ambush, my thoughts lingered on her. I hadn’t told my parents yet. My father, Jake, carried enough weight on his shoulders. Every decision, every strategy, every skirmish—it was all for the survival of our people. He didn’t need my confusion about a single human clouding his focus. And my mother, Neytiri… she wouldn’t understand. Her hatred for the sky people ran deep, forged in blood and loss, and for good reason.

But I couldn’t ignore it.

One evening, I couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning in my marui,only to be kept awake by my own thoughts. I hated whenever this happened. When no position was comfortable,my skin felt on fire and I would get more annoyed and tired by the second. I got up and slowly made my way through the campgrounds,passing by people alike,lost in their dreams.

What I’d do to be in their place.

Calling for my ikran, I waited as she descended gracefully, her form blending seamlessly with the star-speckled sky. When she landed, I took a moment to rest my forehead against hers, finding comfort in her steady presence. Together, we soared into the night, the cool wind sweeping away some of the weight on my chest.

Our destination was inevitable: the remnants of Utraya Mokri.

Once, long before I was born, this was the site of the great Tree of Voices—a place of profound connection where our ancestors’ memories thrived. But during the war, the humans came and destroyed it, severing that sacred link. In its place, saplings had begun to grow, fragile yet persistent, spreading slowly across the scarred land. They shimmered now, soft bioluminescent light dancing in the dark. It was a bittersweet sight—proof of Eywa’s resilience, but also a reminder of what had been lost.

I landed and dismounted, walking to the center of the grove. The soil was cool beneath me as I sat cross-legged, surrounded by the glow of the saplings. Gently, I wrapped the tendrils of a sacred vine around my queue, seeking solace in even the faintest connection. It wasn’t strong enough to download memories or speak with the ancestors, but it was something—a tether to Eywa. And maybe, just maybe, she would hear me.

The connection came swiftly, a wave of warmth and calm coursing through me, easing the storm within. I closed my eyes, lowering my head.

“Great Mother,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Why her? Why a sky person?”

The forest seemed to exhale, its life humming softly around me. The glow of the saplings pulsed gently, as if in answer. I tried to silence my doubts, to push past the fear and confusion. My father had always told me to trust Eywa, even when her ways seemed inscrutable. But this... this felt different.

A memory surfaced unbidden—my father’s voice from years ago. He had been telling us about how Eywa had chosen him, a human, to unite the clans. “Eywa doesn’t see as we do, Neteyam,” he’d said. “She sees balance. Potential. She sees what we cannot.”

A force for balance,maybe. For something greater than I could comprehend.

The thought brought both comfort and unease. I opened my eyes to the glow of the saplings, their light steady and unyielding.

“Help me understand,” I murmured, my words barely audible. The forest around me thrummed once more, but no answer came—at least, not in words. Yet the stillness wasn’t empty. It carried something intangible, something that settled in my heart.

Perhaps the answer would come in time.For now, it would have to be enough.

The jungle was alive with its usual symphony of sounds—the distant calls of viperwolves, the rustle of leaves as a gust of wind swept through the trees. But my focus was razor-sharp, every movement of my body calculated as I followed the humans' trail.

Our scouts had reported another transport heading deeper into the forest, likely bringing more machines or weapons.My father had been clear: Observe, but do not engage. Watch, learn, and then strike if the time is right.

I crouched on a thick branch, hidden by the foliage, my bow resting lightly in my hand. Below me, the humans moved in a tight formation, their vehicles rumbling loudly and their voices carrying through the air. Among them, I saw her again.

She wasn’t dressed like a soldier. Her clothing was simpler, and she carried a small device in her hands, her gaze flicking between it and the terrain around her. She looked… out of place, as though she belonged somewhere quieter, somewhere far from the chaos of this world.

The same tug I’d felt during the ambush returned, stronger this time. But I forced it down.

She’s one of them.

And yet, I couldn’t look away.

We shadowed them for hours, moving through the trees as they trudged through the undergrowth. They stopped occasionally, setting up equipment and scanning the area. The girl seemed focused on whatever task she had been assigned,a small fierce nature in her body, but there was a tension in her posture, a hesitance in her movements.

As the group reached a clearing, my father’s voice came through the earpiece we used for communication.

“Pathfinder, fall back. Let them move on.Over.”

I hesitated. Something wasn’t right.

“Neteyam,” my father’s voice was firmer now. Shit. “Do you copy?”

“Yes,father.” I replied quietly. But I didn’t move.

The attack happened so fast, even I didn’t see it coming.

Viperwolves, drawn by the noise of the humans’ machines, erupted from the shadows. Their snarls shattered the fragile quiet, and the humans scrambled into action, shouting and firing their weapons. Chaos consumed the clearing, the air thick with smoke, fear, and violence.

And in the middle of it all, I saw her freeze.

Her wide eyes darted around, her body stiff as stone. She didn’t run, didn’t fight. Instead, she crouched low, pressing herself against a fallen log, trying to make herself invisible as the chaos surged around her.

I should’ve left. I should’ve followed my father’s orders, retreated into the safety of the trees. But the sight of her, small and vulnerable, anchored me in place. I couldn’t leave her.

Before I realized it, I was moving.

I landed silently behind her, my bow slung over my shoulder as I unsheathed my knife. The viperwolves hadn’t noticed her yet, but it wouldn’t be long before they caught her scent. I could see their noses twitching at the foreign human scent.

“Move,” I whispered, my voice low but firm.

She whipped around. For a moment, she didn’t react, her mouth opening slightly as if to say something. I could see it in her eyes. She recognized me.

“Holy shit,you–”

“Now!” I hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her up.

She stumbled but followed, her legs moving awkwardly as I led her away from the clearing. The sounds of gunfire and snarls faded as we put distance between ourselves and the fight.

The forest was eerily quiet now, the aftermath of the viperwolf attack leaving a tense stillness in the air. She stood there, staring at me with wide eyes, her breaths coming fast and shallow. I could see the tremor in her hands, the slight quake of her legs—fear, exhaustion, or both.

I didn’t know what I was doing. Eywa’s will tugged at me like a strong current, the memory of the atokirina circling her vivid in my mind.

I raised a hand to my throat comm, pressing it lightly as I spoke in Na’vi. “Eagle Eye, I have a situation,over.”

“Holy shit,dude!Where’d you disappear?Over-” My brother’s voice came through, laced with confusion. I figure he fled back with the others. “What’s going on?”

“I found that girl again. The one I told you about. I’m taking her back to camp. Go on without me.Over.” I said, my words clipped. I’ll never hear the end of it.

“What?” Lo’ak’s shock was evident, his voice rising. “Why would you—”

“I’ll explain later. Tell Father and Kiri to meet me. And be ready. Over and out.”

Before Lo’ak could respond, I cut the connection and turned back to the girl. Her gaze flicked between me and the trees, as if she was debating whether to run.

“You’re coming with me,” I said firmly.

Her brow furrowed. “What? No, I—”

I didn’t give her a chance to finish. Stepping forward, I grabbed her wrist—not hard, but enough to guide her—and began leading her through the trees,calling for my ikran. She struggled against my grip.

“Let go of me!Are you fucking insane?!Why did you–” she hissed.

“We need to move,” I said sharply,cutting her off. “The forest isn’t safe for you.”

“Yeah,no shit.” she bit back,panic present in her tone. Does she think I’m kidnapping her?

When my ikran came to us, the girl froze, her eyes widening at the sight of the massive, winged creature. It let out a low growl, its sharp eyes narrowing at her.

“No way,” she said, shaking her head. “I am not getting on that thing.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I said, swinging up onto the ikran’s back and reaching down for her.

She hesitated, but when the distant laugh of a viperwolf echoed through the trees, she grabbed my hand and let me pull her up. She’s so light.

“Hold on,” I said, guiding her arms around my waist.

She muttered something under her breath, but she obeyed.

With a sharp call, I urged my ikran into the air, the wind rushing past us as we soared above the forest.

The Hallelujah Mountains loomed ahead, their floating peaks glowing faintly in the evening light. I focused on the flight, trying to ignore the growing tension I felt with her pressed against my back.

It wasn’t until we began our descent toward the high base that she spoke.

“You think I don’t understand you?”

Her voice, so sudden, startled me. She was quiet the entire ride and now she speaks?

I twisted slightly to glance back at her, my eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“When you spoke earlier, in Na’vi. I understood you. You’re taking me back to...to torture me or what?!” she said, her tone biting,but I could sense the fear and tremble in her tone. Feisty little thing.

My heart skipped a beat. She understood? How?

“You speak my language?” I asked, my voice sharp with disbelief.

“You didn’t answer my question!” she snapped, her grip tightening on my waist as the ikran dipped slightly. Fuck,I’m getting lightheaded with the way her tiny hands grip my waist like that. “Why does it matter? Why am I here?”

I didn’t answer immediately. We landed on a wide platform near the high base, the soft thud of the ikran’s claws echoing against the rock. She climbed off quickly, putting distance between us as she glared at me. How do I even explain to her?

“Tell me,” she demanded, her voice rising. “Why did you take me? Why didn’t you just leave me there?”

I slid off the ikran, keeping my gaze steady on hers. “You would have died.”

“I could’ve handled it!” she said, her voice trembling with frustration. Yeah,right. Surely you would have handled dying,little tawtute. “I didn’t ask for your help!”

I took a step closer, my expression hard. “And yet,you were frozen. If I hadn’t acted, the viperwolves would have torn you apart.”

Her anger faltered, and she looked away, her fists clenching at her sides. “I didn’t need saving.”

“You don’t understand this world,” I said, my voice softening. “It’s not like Earth. It will kill you if you’re not careful.”

She looked back at me then, her eyes burning with a mix of anger and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

“Then why not leave me there?Away from the attack.” she asked quietly. “Why take me with you?”

For a moment, I didn’t know how to answer. The truth was tangled up in feelings I didn’t fully understand myself—in the memory of the atokirina, in the way Eywa seemed to whisper through the forest that she was important. In the way I felt when I stared into her eyes.

“Because we need intel from inside the RDA. And you seemed like a good fit,you know. Small,feisty scientist who didn’t show any signs of a threat. ” I lied, the words slipping out before I could stop them,though I kept a certain amount of smugness in my teasing.

Her brows furrowed in confusion,almost as if she was…offended. “What are you talking about?”

I hesitated, debating how much to tell her. I pet my ikran before I started walking into a cave. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she said, crossing her arms.

Gosh,she’s so infuriating. Maybe I should have left her with the viperwolves. I turn around to her,simply cross my arms in defiance,towering over her small stature with a silent smirk. For a moment, she was observing, her gaze searching mine. I'm too stubborn to talk further. Plus,she's...pretty like this. She let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips. She’s got jokes,huh. I like that. “Takes one to know one.”

Her laughter faded, and she looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “What happens now?”

I straightened, my resolve hardening. “I…don’t know. We’ll figure it out once we get there.”

She didn’t argue this time. Instead, she simply nodded, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the fight had gone out of her.

“And for the record,I’m not going to torture you. We’re not barbarians.”

I heard a weak chuckle leave her lips as she followed behind me,and…it was a pretty sweet sound.

But I knew this was only the beginning. Whatever Eywa’s plan was, it had already begun.

98 notes · View notes

sitepathos · 3 months ago

Note

hey, I wanted to ask a couple of obvious or non-obvious things about the so-called "mold" because the very idea of it the first time I read it seemed very strange to me and I read it constantly interrupting myself to think whether it was really good or bad, BUT, the further it went, the more I started to like it terribly and as a result I had questions about this... thing.

Abilities and knowledge are good, but what about the other side of all this? Are there any side effects, so to speak? And what about weaknesses, both obvious and perhaps not obvious? Can this somehow greatly affect ordinary life? And if there are weaknesses and they can be used well in general, then could the BatFamily use them to their advantage?

(Sorry if it’s not coherent, I’m writing in a rush of questions and feelings...)

I’ve thought about doing a detailed report on how the Megamycete affects you, so thank you for asking this!

Powers

Mycokinesis: with the Megamycete in your body, you can call upon its mold from within and create weapons like tendrils and armor composed of hardened mold. You can also control the roots that are all around Gotham and use them however you see fit.

Quorum Sensing: the roots of the Megamycete have spread all throughout Gotham for over four-hundred years, serving as its eyes and ears. You can tap into the roots and see anywhere you wish just by thinking of it, even if you’re far from the city. This is also seen when you turned into a murder of crows; while you were composed of multiple birds, they shared a single consciousness and you were able to see from all their perspectives all at once.

Record Access: the Megamycete has absorbed countless corpses over the centuries, both man and beast, and assimilating their memories, knowledge, and even DNA into its archives. Thanks to this, you can call upon this living repository and use it as if it were your own. Because of this, you technically have the knowledge and qualifications for many kinds of occupations and diplomas that would take years to obtain.

Shapeshifting: thanks to the Megamycete bonding with you at the genetic level and its vase records, you can call change into any form you desire, be it a bird, a beast, or a long-dead human (and you have even assume their voice if you desire). You can also make modifications to your real body, such as making a pair of functioning wings without assuming a bird form.

Regeneration: thanks to the Megamycete’s mold, you can heal from even the most serious wounds, such as gunshot wounds. You can lose a limb and you can just stick it back on your body and you’ll be as good as new (or just grow another one if the old limb can’t be recovered).

Superhuman Stamina: as stated in Chapter 6, the Megamycete gives you incredible stamina, reducing your need for food or rest (though you can still feel mentally fatigued as stated in Chapter 4). You still consume food and sleep because you actually enjoy these, but they don’t sustain you like they did before. The Megamycete’s all you need.

Superhuman Strength: the Megamycete makes you far stronger than you ever were before and gives you more strength than any normal human could ever have. Don’t misunderstand, you’re not Superman, but you could throw Bane around like a rag doll.

Benefits

In conclusion, the Megamycete makes you far faster, stronger, and smarter than any normal human.

Weaknesses

Unsurprisingly, the Megamycete’s mold has a vulnerability to fire. If we go by video game logic, it makes sense that a “plant-type” monster like the Megamycete could easily be hurt by.

Following the same video game logic, the Megamycete’s also vulnerable to the cold. Mold (normal, non-sentient mold) can still be found in cold environments, but it becomes dormant in freezing temperatures. While the Megamycete is more powerful than regular mold, it went into a kind of hibernation when it still resided in Gotham as it gets very cold in winter.

And while this is a bit of a spoiler, the Megamycete can be vulnerable to forms of toxins/poisons. While it can metabolize any hazardous substances and survive, if a specially designed toxin is designed to target its strain of mold, it could pose a very serious risk to the Megamycete. But, it would require special equipment, extensive knowledge in mycology and toxicology, and lots of money. Know anyone that fits that description?

#asks #from gold to mold

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mermaidgirl30 · 8 months ago

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✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Chapter 5: Let Me Take You There✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: This has been a work in progress for 2 months, but it is finally here! Moodboard made by @mrsmando 🩵 I have been working on so many things lately, but I’m so happy with how this chapter turned out. I hope you enjoy 🥰 No beta for this one, but thank you to @mountainsandmayhem and @littlevenicebitch69 for letting me share snippets with you and scream about these two 🩷

Chapter Summary: After your parents cancel your weekend trip to Galveston at the last minute, Joel offers to take you instead.

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Word Count: 10.5k

Chapter Tags: Joel takes reader to Galveston, road trip, oral receiving (both male and female), unprotected p in v, creampie, fingering, reader and Joel being in love, bondage, vibrator use, lots of fluff and smut, switching POVs, no use y/n

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Tuesday evening, a few days after your birthday and you’re sitting at the kitchen table eating takeout Mexican food. You’re not alone with your parents; your dad invited Joel over to watch some college game with him. He sits next to you, leg digging into yours as you let yours mold into his. His leg is strong, firm, holding you together as you let it rest against yours. You want to be in his arms, let him hold you tight while you drown in his lips, in his taste, but you can’t. Not here, not right now.

You take another bite out of your chicken enchilada and pop another chip drowned in queso in your mouth, letting the juicy flavors run down your throat as it hits just the right spot.

“Hey, sweetie, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. You know the Galveston trip this upcoming weekend?” your dad asks, finishing off a bite of his cheesy quesadilla as he sips from his tall water glass.

“Yeah, what about it?” you ask through another bite of enchilada.

“We’re gonna have to cancel the trip,” he says sadly, taking another bite out of his dripping quesadilla like he has no care in the world for the words that just came out of his mouth.

“What?” you ask, shocked. You drop your fork and it goes tumbling to the ground, landing with a loud clunk against the hardwood. Joel doesn’t hesitate and reaches his long arm down, picking up the ruined fork and setting it on the table next to him.

“I’m sorry, hun. Your aunt May and Charlie are making a surprise visit down, and they’re gonna come stay with us for the weekend. We wanted to tell you Thursday, but we didn’t want to ruin your weekend,” she says with apologies all over her uneasy tone.

“Why couldn’t you just tell them we already had plans? You’ve never canceled this trip before!” The words come out stronger than you want them to, hurt written all over your angry voice. They knew this weekend was important to you. They knew.

Joel places a hand discreetly on your thigh to help soothe you, but you barely register his gentle touch with how mad you are.

“We tried, hun, but the plans just fell through. I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to go. Maybe next year…”

You interrupt your mom. “Maybe next year?” you ask quietly with your lip quivering around your words. This trip was important to you. It was always something you looked forward to, but now it was ruined. You feel the backs of your eyes burn with hot tears, but you won’t let them see. They don’t deserve to see you crumble. You’ll just go sulk in your room.

Joel sees how upset you’re getting, sees the way you’re trying to keep it together at the table. He digs his thick fingers into the flesh of your knee and knits his brows together as he looks over at you from the corner of his eye. You feel his concern through the connected skin. As much as you want to place your hand over his, you just need a few minutes alone.

“If you’ll excuse me, I just lost my appetite,” you say as you push back your chair and feel Joel’s warm fingers drop from your skin.

As you leave the room and make your way up the towering steps, you hear your dad say something under his breath. “She just needs to cool off. She’ll be fine.”

For some reason those words just make you more frustrated as you tread up the stairs, letting a hot tear collapse down your cheek as your vision begins to blur. Stupid trip, stupid aunt, stupid everything. You can kiss goodbye to any chance of your ocean weekend getaway because it isn’t happening.

You slam the door closed and flop onto your bed, curling your knees into your chest as you let the tears fall. You try to keep yourself together, but you’re too angry, too sad, too hurt. It might not be a big deal to them, but it is to you. So you burn with the heat inside your body and let it swallow you whole.

Joel takes a stiff drink of his iced tea and looks over at George. “You didn’t tell me you were canceling the trip,” he says slowly, trying not to show the concern in his voice as he worries about you wallowing alone in your room.

“It just came up. May isn’t usually the type to just drop in, so we thought we’d better stay home and let them come on down. I feel bad, but sometimes things come up, ya know?” George says through a bite of a crunchy tortilla chip, not seeming all that concerned about his daughter.

“That’s too bad. She seemed really excited. I think you crushed her,” Joel says as calmly as he can without getting all worked up himself. The thing was, he hated seeing you upset, would never dream of ever making you feel that way. And now he felt obligated to make you feel better. He had to because you’re his girl, and he always takes care of his girl.

“We are really sorry. We just hope she’ll forgive us,” Claire says with a sigh huffed in between bites of her dinner.

“Yeah. Joel, the game’s back on, you ready to go finish it?” George asks as he gets up and starts heading toward the living room.

“Oh, yeah. Just go ahead and turn it on. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Gonna head up to the bathroom first,” Joel says as he pushes back his chair and heads toward the stairs.

“Alright, don’t take too long,” George calls as he disappears into the dark living room. Joel prowls up the stairs quietly and heads toward your room.

You wipe the last tear away from your cheek and look at yourself in the mirror across the room. You definitely look like you’ve been crying with your tinted red eyes and wet sleeves that leave traces of tears on the back of the aquamarine color. You feel like a complete mess.

Just then, you hear the click of the door handle and the squeak of hinges as Joel opens the door and slowly shuts in behind him. You silently gasp as you hope he doesn’t notice you were crying, but he probably will. He always notices.

“Hey, you okay there, darlin’?” Joel asks as he comes over and sits on the bed beside you, his eyebrows knit together with worry as his brown eyes stare intently at you.

“Mhm,” you hum out faintly as you keep your eyes locked on the cream carpet.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing to me,” he says as his hand brushes up against the side of your thigh, almost calming you down as your insides still rage like a hurricane.

“I’m fine, just a little upset is all,” you mumble out, holding back anymore tears that may spill over the edge.

“Hey, look at me,” he says gently as he cups your chin carefully and turns your face to him. His brown eyes are full of concern, and his gaze doesn’t waver from yours at all.

“Where’s that smile that I love so much, huh? C’mon, baby. Let me see it,” he coaxes as he lifts the corners of his mouth into a warm smile, the sight instantly calming you down.

He slowly unfolds you, and you can’t help but break when you see his crooked smile splayed across his face. It’s your favorite thing in the world. You drop the frown and replace it with a gentle smile as he trails his calloused thumb against your jawline, making you relax into his touch.

“Ahh there’s my girl. The one with the beautiful smile,” he presses as the words send a quick giggle out of you. “Attagirl,” he praises as you get lost in his soft brown eyes. He leans over and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, making your insides coat with tingles at the warmth of him.

“Thanks for making me feel a little better,” you sigh as you fall into his chest and lean your head into the crook of his neck as he gently runs a hand through your hair, soothing you into a calm state.

“I’m sorry about this weekend,” he apologizes as he gently combs his fingers through your hair.

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault my parents canceled at the last minute. It’s whatever. I didn’t even want to go that bad anyways,” you pout as you jut your bottom lip out.

“Oh, yes you did, sweetheart. I saw how upset you got down there. This trip meant a lot to you, didn’t it?” he asks as he trails his large hand up and down your back repeatedly.

“Yeah, it did,” you sigh, letting the thoughts wash out of your head so you don’t get upset again.

“What if you could still go?” he asks as your body goes still underneath his touch.

“Huh?” you ask as you pull your head up and sit up straight. “Still go? What do you mean?” you ask, confused because the trip had already been canceled.

“What if you could still go, would you?” he asks as he pushes a fallen stray curl away from his forehead.

You ponder his question, wondering why he’s asking such a silly thing. “Of course I would, but why are you asking?” You raise an eyebrow and look at him curiously, trying to decipher his meaning.

“Because,” he starts, straightening out his button-up blue flannel, “what if I take you?”

Your mouth drops open and your eyes go wide. “What?” you ask with a locked jaw expression, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth.

“What if I take you? Just you and me. We could stay the weekend, get a little sun, maybe swim some, explore Galveston.”

“You’d do that for me?” you ask with teary eyes as he connects his hand with yours, entwining his fingers with yours as you feel them burn the back of your skin.

“I’d do anything to see that pretty smile, sweetheart,” he says with the curl of his lips and the dimple that presses deep into his cheek.

He’s so fucking beautiful and sweet and so loving. How did you ever get so lucky?

“Joel…”

“Let me take you to Galveston, please. I’d love nothing more, truly,” he says with genuine brown eyes.

You start to tear up, vision blurring as the tears lick at the edges of your eyes and start to fall against your cheeks. Joel cups your face with his big hands and wipes away the falling tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“Hey, hey. What’s the matter? Why are you cryin’, darlin’?” he asks worriedly as he looks into your eyes intensely, concern lathered in those doe eyes of his.

“You’re just… you’re just so good to me, Joel. Why are you so perfect?” you cry out as another hot tear falls from your eyes. Joel catches it with the tip of his thumb and brushes it away effortlessly.

“I’m nowhere near perfect,” he chuckles as he keeps his brown eyes on you, “I just know how much the trip meant to you, and there’s no way I’m letting that get taken from you. You wanna go? Then we’re going. I’m not gonna see you disappointed, baby. I’ll take you there myself, and I’m gonna make sure you enjoy every second of it,” he confirms as he drops his hands from your face.

You suck in a breath and slam into his broad chest as you wrap your arms tightly around him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you. God, I love you so much,” you breathe into his ear, feeling one of his hands come to cup the back of your head and the other wrapping around your waist.

“You’re so welcome. And I love you, too, sweetheart. Never gonna stop,” he says slowly into your ear, making every part of you completely lose it for him.

You lift your chin up and slowly plant your lips on his, letting the moment move slow, delicately, passionately. You sink into his weight and let him devour your lips, your tongue, your everything.

Joel Miller was the definition of everything, and you’d never ever let him go.

The cool breeze of November blows in a rush through your long locks of hair as you lean your head out the window, the air crisp and smelling of pine trees as you rest your elbows on the edge of the door and enjoy the taste of freedom. The radio hums low through the speakers as you feel Joel’s eyes on your back, feeling his warm smile on your skin as you close your eyes and take in this beautiful moment.

The drive to Galveston is relaxing, the sun kissing your skin as you bathe in warm sunlight. Joel taps his thumb against the leather steering wheel along to an AC/DC song that plays quietly throughout the truck. You take a moment to turn toward him, leaning your head on the back of the seat as you admire the beautiful man that sits before you. Tousled curls with grey threaded through his thick locks, a blue flannel that tugs at his muscular biceps, a glowing smile that reflects off the backs of your eyes as you soak him up, painting a pretty picture in your mind that you’ll surely take to your grave.

Joel catches you staring and reaches an arm out as he snatches your fingers and pulls your hand up to his plush lips. He grazes his lips against the back of your knuckles and laces his fingers through yours as he pulls your hand into his lap, holding tight as he drives along the vacant highway.

You blink twice and smile as you watch him drive, your hand on top of his thigh as he looks over and sees you in a lovesick daze. “What are you smilin’ ‘bout, hmm?” he asks as he smirks your way, arching an eyebrow as he drives along.

“Oh, no reason. Just can’t believe you’re taking me all the way to Galveston.”

He squeezes your hand gently and looks over at you as the crow’s feet crinkle around his warm eyes. “Well, believe it, baby. Gotta keep my girl happy. And trust me, I wouldn’t wanna spend the weekend doin’ anythin’ else.”

You scoot over to his side, unfastening your seatbelt as you nuzzle up into the side of his neck, catching the edge of his greying scruff. He tsks at you as he eyes you with your seatbelt off. “Seatbelt on, baby. Don’t want ya gettin’ hurt.”

You huff out a response, batting your long eyelashes up at him. “I just wanted to be next to you. Being in the passenger seat was too far away,” you pout.

He rolls his eyes and sighs, putting a strong arm around you as he hugs you into his side. “You’re a handful, you know that?” You giggle out and he just shakes his head. “Guess you can stay right here, can’t say no to my girl.”

You beam up at him, reaching up to leave a sweet kiss against his tanned cheek while you wrap your arm around his hip and nuzzle back into the warm, woodsy scent of his flannel. You still can’t believe you’re going to the beach with your boyfriend, your dad’s best friend, and you can’t even fathom how he fell in love with you in the first place, but you’re so glad he did because you think he’s the love of your life.

Joel stops on the way to Galveston at Buc-ee’s, and the both of you jump out and grab all your favorite snacks for the long ride. The two of you share a bbq sandwich, grab fountain drinks, a bag of Doritos, beef jerky, and numerous bags of candy. When you’re back in the truck and driving down the long highway, you’re back against Joel’s side and leaning your head on his shoulder while you slowly chew on a piece of salted beef jerky.

He leans down and bites off a piece of it which makes your head fall back and laughter flow out the cracked window. Who knew that a simple road trip with your dad’s best friend would be the most exciting thing to happen this year? You never saw it coming, but neither did he. He just made you that happy. You’d be content just sitting by his side, reading a book while he watched a baseball game on tv. It was simple really, you were just that in love with Joel.

He takes another bite and hugs you tight against his side while his fingers slowly trail up and down your outer arm, making tingles flow down your spine. “So, what’d you tell your parents? Reckon your mother gave you a mouthful for leavin’ on the weekend you have family comin’ into town,” Joel says as he keeps one hand on the leather steering wheel, his eyes vigilant on the straight road ahead.

You sigh, leaning your head on his broad shoulder. “Told them I was having a girl’s trip this weekend in Dallas. My mom was pissed, but she’ll get over it.”

He nods his head, tongue sliding over his bottom teeth as he eyes you from the corner of his vision. “I’m sure she’ll get over it quick. Besides, how can she stay mad at a pretty face like yours, hmm?” He cups your chin as his calloused fingers slide against your smooth skin, leaning over to give you a quick kiss on your cheek.

You smile up at him, your cheeks warming from the golden sun and his soft touch. He really is the sweetest guy you know. “Thanks, Joel. You always know how to cheer me up.”

“Always here for ya, baby.” He laces his fingers with yours and brings your hand up to his lips while he lays gentle kisses across your dainty knuckles.

When he releases your hand to focus on driving again, you pick out a sucker wrapped in pink paper and slowly unfold the sweet treat. You pop it into your mouth slowly and savor the cherry flavor on your tongue. Joel watches you lick at the sucker, your tongue sliding along the see through candy, eyes growing dark when he watches you pop it out of your mouth with drool sticking to the top.

He shifts in his seat, eyebrows furrowing together as he smirks your way, a devilish grin spreading across his crooked smile. “That good, huh?” he asks with hooded eyes.

You smile his way, taking your tongue along the smooth edge as you slowly lick at the cherry flavored sucker. “Sooo good,” you hum as you take it further into your mouth, as far as you can without choking yourself.

His jaw clenches, hands tightening on the steering wheel as he drives along, fighting himself from running off the road. “Better stop that now,” he warns, his eyes flickering with dark flecks of temptation as he gazes at you again with little control.

“Stop what?” you ask innocently, giving the sucker another lick as you stare directly into his smoldering eyes.

“Stop fuckin’ teasin’ me. You tryin’ to kill me?” he murmurs as you eye the hardening cock against his jeans. Oh yeah, you were going to have fun with this.

“Not trying to kill you, handsome. Just having some fun,” you tease.

He sighs, raking a hand slowly down his grey threaded scruff. “You’re trouble, sweetheart. A little tease is what you are.”

“Oh, I know,” you giggle.

You lean over and lick your tongue up the side of his neck, tasting the salt of sweat and a hint of mahogany cologne. You taste him.

“Christ,” Joel groans as he grips the steering wheel even harder. “You’re gonna make me pull this truck over if you’re not careful, I mean it,” he warns, his voice thick and gravelly against the pinch of temptation.

“You’re not gonna pull over. You’re gonna keep driving with your eyes on the road while I do this.” You palm him through his jeans, feeling just how hard he is as he groans through his gnashed teeth.

“Now, sweetheart. Jus’ hold on there.” He tries to pry your hand off, but you don’t move an inch.

“Joel, I’ve wanted to do this for years. Please, let me make you feel good. Rather suck on your cock than this lollipop.” You give another innocent lick to the pink sucker and bat your long eyelashes at him, giving him the prettiest smile you can muster up.

He ticks his jaw, eyebrows molding together while he drags a huff out. “Alright, alright. Jus’ don’t go wild. I need to concentrate on the road.”

“Noted,” you wink, watching him grit his teeth together as he watches you slowly unzip his denim jeans, pulling his boxers down while his hard cock springs up and hits his soft tummy.

You revel at how thick and long he is, wrapping a hand around him to slowly slide up and down his shaft, spreading the leaking precum over his entirety. He groans at your slow motions, eyes blowing out as he watches you sink down to his lap while your mouth closes over him.

“Fuckkk,” he groans as you bob your head up and down his shaft, hovering down to where his tip is kissing the back of your throat, making you choke and drool all over his weeping cock. He shifts beneath you, hands cemented to the steering wheel as he fights to keep his eyes on the road instead of at your pretty mouth around his thick length.

You gather your spit and fist him in your hand, moaning while you hear the wet, sticky noises of your fingers working him nice and good up and down repeatedly. You feel your own slick gathering in your panties, an ache you’re desperate to alleviate. You slide your left hand under the lace, circling your throbbing clit while you moan his name, still working him up and down with your hand.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he growls, watching you get yourself off with your own fingers. “If I wasn’t in the middle of the highway, I’d pull this truck over and have you spread across my lap while I finished the job.”

“Yeah?” you whine, fingers curling up inside yourself while your thumb presses down on your pulsing bundle of nerves.

“Oh yeah, sweetheart. Better believe I’m takin’ care of you later. You brought what I asked, right?”

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself about to spill inside your denim shorts.

“Attagirl. Gonna get you all nice and wet with my fingers, my tongue. Gonna tie you to the bedpost and give you what you deserve. Gonna make my girl come so hard that we’ll need new sheets before the night is through,” he growls with gritted teeth.

“Joel,” you moan, feeling a white hot sensation flow through your body before your panties are ruined with your release, continuing to stroke him while you come down from the blissful high of an orgasm.

“That’s my good fuckin’ girl,” he praises. You’re absolutely drenched from his dirty words.

You take a minute to come back to the present while your eyes glaze over, feeling his pulsing cock beneath your fingers while you work him up and down slowly. You lean over and glide the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock where a large vein guides you forward. He groans, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel while you work your magic.

Suddenly, Joel stills beneath you, hearing his phone buzz deep in his pocket. He curses under his breath and reaches one hand in, grabbing up his vibrating phone as his eyes blow wide.

“It’s your father,” he mutters, knitting his eyebrows together as he answers the phone. “Hey, George. What’s up?” he says casually, motioning for you to stop while he talks on the phone.

You still your hand, keeping it wrapped firmly around the base, brushing the end of your nose through his coarse, wiry hairs, breathing him deep as you get intoxicated off his manly musk.

“Beers at your house tonight? Sorry, bud. I’m actually out of town this weekend.”

You hear your dad on the other end sighing, can almost see him rolling his eyes. You know he misses his best friend, but right now he’s a bit tied up with you.

“M’sorry. It was a bit last minute, but I’m goin’ to the lake with Sarah.”

You listen to Joel and your dad carry on the conversation, one hand on the steering wheel tight while he balances the phone on his shoulder. You know he’s trying not to break while he’s on the phone, but you just can’t help yourself.

You lick a thick stripe up the underside of his cock, flicking your tongue in slow circles around his swollen red tip as he hisses through his teeth. He glares at you, but you just smile sweetly up at him as you dive back in.

You take him deep in your mouth, feeling the salty precum slide down your throat as you choke on him again and again. He grabs the back of your hair, letting you work him over, swallowing your own moans with his thick length.

You take him deeper, choking on him while you make the most obscene gagging noises around his cock. “Ahh fuck,” he growls through his teeth as he looks down with blown out black eyes. “Oh, sorry. Jus’ lifted somethin’ a little too heavy for me. Guess I couldn’t quite handle it,” he mutters while his fingers grab your hair harder.

He pushes you down further, rutting his hips up while you choke again and again on his cock, letting him deepthroat you as your drool and spit coat him in wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right. Mhm, feels fuckin’ great at the lake. Not too cold, not too hot, jus’ right,” he grits through his teeth, fisting your locks in his hand as he drags your mouth up and down him, mouth fucking him intensely. You’re nearly drowning in him.

“Mhm. Tuesday. I’m gonna come. On Tuesday, right,” he pants out, teeth gritted together as he pushes your head down hard and blows his load inside your hollowed out cheeks.

You swallow him down, barely able to take all the hot ropes of cum as some leaks out of your mouth. He curses under his breath and hits the back of his head on the headrest, broad chest heaving while you clean him up and lap up all the excess cum and drool on his messy cock. When you’re done cleaning him and his cock is softening, you fold it back into his boxers and pull his jeans back up, zipping them up for Joel.

He takes deep breaths, listening to the last few words your dad tells him on the phone. He seems uninterested in whatever your dad has to say, his eyes only watching you now. They’re glazed over, dark flecks shining in the sunlight as he looks at you with love in his eyes. It makes your heartbeat pick up and kick against your chest.

“Alright, George. Sounds good. Have a good weekend. See ya Tuesday.” He clicks the phone off and shoves it in his pocket while his hand trails back over to you. His eyes find yours, and they look so beautiful in the rays of sunshine that glow through the window.

“You messy, messy girl. Goin’ down on me when I’m tryin’ to drive, when I’m on the phone with your father. You’re such a mess, baby,” he chuckles as he settles a large palm on the top of your head, gently running his fingers softly through your long locks.

“Mhm. I’ve always wanted to do that for you. And now I can say I have,” you giggle.

“Christ. How’d I get so lucky with you, hmm?” he smiles, watching you turn on your side and laying your head in his lap while one of your arms wraps around his thigh.

“The question is how’d I get so lucky with you? I’ve wanted you for so long, and now I finally have you all to myself. Almost doesn’t seem real, you know?”

You hear him hum while his thick fingers curl against your shoulder. “I know what ya mean, sweetheart. It’s real, though. You’re mine, and I’m not lettin’ you go. You’re stuck with me, pretty girl.”

“Fine with me, cowboy,” you smile.

He chuckles out, the weight of his laughter echoing through your heart. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“And I love you, Joel Miller.”

He smiles down at you as you situate yourself in his lap, closing your eyes to take a nap. Maybe when you wake up you’ll see the surf and sand of Galveston before your eyes.

After you check into the lavish hotel and place your bags in your suite, you and Joel both throw on your swimsuits and grab some beach towels. You settle into a dark teal bikini, and Joel almost matches you with light blue swim trunks. He looks so good, so broad with his tanned chest almost glistening in the sun, his large muscles flexing every time he moves. He looks like a masterpiece.

Just when you almost get lost in your fantasies in your mind, Joel pulls you right back out. “I’ll race ya to the beach,” he smirks as he pulls open the back sliding door that leads to a winding staircase down to the beach.

“Bet I can beat you,” you giggle as you push him in the shoulder and race past him, barreling down the sturdy steps as you hear him laughing uncontrollably behind you.

“Cheater,” he laughs with a gravelly tone, “pushed right past me.”

You turn your face his way and stick your tongue out playfully. “Come catch me, slow poke,” you giggle. That just makes him sprint faster toward you.

You take off in the warm sand, your heart beating wildly inside your chest as you run toward the blue crashing waves of the ocean. You turn your head back around quickly and scream when you see him right on your heels.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” he chuckles. One more step and he’s picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder while you squeak and try to escape.

“Joel, put me down!” you laugh, using every bit of strength in you to break free of his hold, but it’s no use. He’s got you in a tight embrace.

“Ain’t puttin’ you down jus’ yet, baby. Nah, gonna jus’ take ya for a little dip in the water.”

“Joel Miller, put me down this instant!” you squeak as he squeezes the backs of your thighs, taking off into the thick sand.

“Nah, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna do that.”

You hear the crash of waves before you see them, and then he’s throwing you into the salty water while your head gets completely covered in the cold water. You make your way quickly up to the surface and rub the salt out of your eyes, yelling at Joel playfully while he laughs in the near distance.

Once you see him you start splashing him in the face with the cold water, watching his hair get completely soaked with his tousled curls slicked back with big droplets of salt water framing his face. “Now who’s winning!” you shout gleefully.

“Oh, so you wanna be like that? Okay, baby. Two can play at that game.” He starts splashing you right back while you turn your head and avoid the salt water getting in your eyes.

It’s a water fight in the best possible way, you and Joel going back and forth seeing who can make the biggest splash and who can get the most soaked. A fit of giggles leave your mouths while the sunshine warms your dripping shoulders. It goes on for minutes, the playful water fight until Joel comes up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist.

“C’mere,” he chuckles. He spins you around and pins you to his chest while his lips find yours hungrily. You melt into the kiss, fingers twisting through his dripping curls, him slotting his tongue into your mouth as you taste the salty flavor of the ocean and him.

You squeak when he picks you up, legs wrapping around his hips as one of his hands locks you to him. You rest your forehead on his, your lips curved into a warm smile as you take in the salt water that covers his tanned skin. “Thanks for taking me here, Joel,” you whisper against his mouth.

“Anytime, darlin’. Anytime.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and let him hold you up in the water, keeping your body flush to his chest. You both turn your attention to the horizon, watching the gentle blue waves lap against the water, focusing on the afternoon glow of the sun, the graceful seagulls flying overhead, your own beating heart mixing with Joel’s.

It’s moments like this that you can never take for granted. Being at the beach with your lover, not having to sneak around under the nose of your reluctant father, being at one of your favorite places in Texas. It’s all surreal, almost fictional. You’re one hell of a lucky girl, and you know that. God, you know that.

You rest your head on Joel’s shoulder and feel him kiss the top of your head slowly, his lips grazing against your drenched hair. “This is so peaceful, Joel,” you breathe, sighing into the scruff of his jaw.

“Mhm, it sure is. Haven’t been down here in a while. You know Sarah was jealous, right?”

You giggle and look up at him, catching the sunlight strike his dazzling honey colored eyes. “You told her you were coming here?”

“Yeah. Guess it was a mistake ‘cause she threw a fit, but she got over it. Told her I wanted a little alone time with my girl.”

You smile and nod in understanding. “Glad she took it well.”

“Me too. She kept askin’ when we were gonna tell your folks about us,” he sighs, one hand raking down the curve of his jaw, thick fingers catching water droplets from his greying beard.

You huff and sink back into his chest. “I don’t even want to think about that. I mean eventually we’ll have to, but not today. Not this month, or year. Maybe next year,” you sigh while your nails scratch against the back of his tousled curls.

“Whenever you want, baby. M’not in a rush either. Whenever you feel like the right time is, we’ll tell ‘em together. I’ll be right there by your side, no matter what happens. M’not goin’ anywhere, even if your father hates me after. I’m yours. Always.” He brushes his lips over your cheekbone, and it sends butterflies flitting through your lower regions. The man always knew how to get you.

You stay in the cool, salty water just a little longer, going back and forth from floating on your back to being in Joel’s arms. No one else is in the water or on the beach, it’s just you and Joel. Your own island paradise for the weekend.

You bathe in the beauty of it all. The salty air breezing across your hair, sun kissed skin soaking in every bit of ray of sunshine the sky graces you, Joel standing behind you with his lips brushing against your collarbone, his deep hums sending sparks of lightning through your core. You never want to leave this place, never want to leave him. You’ll just stay in the moment for as long as you can.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” He hums as he kisses your neck sweetly, his other hand dancing along the bikini line as his thick fingers play with the teal material by your hip bone.

“Promise me this isn’t just a dream and that I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow with you gone.”

He chuckles behind you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers in his deep, gruff voice you so love. “S’not a dream, baby. It’s real, I’m real. And I can promise you I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You sink your weight into his broad chest, his finger cupping your chin with his calloused fingers. He tips your head backwards and meets your lips with his, letting him soak you in all his sunshine and salty presence while you float off on a cloud into paradise. This is heaven, Joel is heaven. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him.

After half an hour of basking in the beautiful ocean, you decide to get out and lay in the sand for a while. You drag your feet through the damp sand, body relaxed and tired from the ocean water. You spot your towels laid out together, yours pink and Joel’s dark blue. But before you can reach them you feel Joel catch your hips while he envelops you in his warm hold, dragging you down to the sand as his weight topples over you. He pins your wrists to the warm sand while he holds himself over you.

“Got you,” he chuckles, hovering over you with his tousled curls dripping salt water all over your chest.

“Joel!” you laugh as you erupt into a fit of giggles. “Didn’t realize we were still playing.”

“Mmm, found the perfect opportunity to take you down again. Couldn’t resist,” he chuckles.

“Silly old man,” you tease.

“Old man, huh? Ain’t old enough to do this,” he laughs, sinking his body against yours while his lips crash into you.

You melt into his lips, your fingers running through his tousled curls that smell of salty water and mahogany, the two mixing together to form a scent you breathe into your lungs and get lost in. His tongue dances with yours, his rough hands gliding against the curve of your hips as he slithers his way between your legs.

You stay like that for minutes just breathing each other in, getting lost in the hungry kisses, the panting breaths that sound in tune with the lapping waves against the shoreline. It all feels like a dream, but this is real, and it’s the most perfect day with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

He nips at your bottom lip, slowly releasing his mouth as he hovers back over you. When you open your eyes, you gasp. The way the warm sun beams down over him makes him look angelic, a bright light surrounding him as you look into those beautiful honey eyes, the dark flecks reflecting off your own. God, he looks so beautiful, so exquisite. You could stare at him every second of every day if you got the chance to.

Your fingers brush over his grey threaded beard, lips parting in awe as you smile up at him. His lips curve into a warm smile that makes your toes curl, and his eyes crinkle down at you while one of his hands grazes against your jawline.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. You know that?” he asks, affection spilling off his Southern drawl while he traces your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb.

“You tell me all the time, handsome,” you smile, eliciting a groan from his mouth as you drag your fingers against the scruff of the back of his neck.

“You deserve to be told every single second of every day, sweetheart. And I’ll do that, over and over again. Even if you get tired of it, I’ll keep at it. ‘Cause you deserve the world, so let me give it to you.”

Your mouth drops open, your heart in your throat. You’re so stunned that you can barely say anything but run your fingers through his hair, a wide smile splayed over your face as you gaze into the eyes of the love of your life.

“Joel Miller, never knew you were such a romantic at heart,” you smile, lazing into those crystal clear dark eyes.

“Always been a romantic, baby. Guess I jus’ didn’t have anyone to show it to. But now, there’s you. So let me shower you in it. Got many years to make up for it,” he chuckles.

You drag his face down to yours, pressing your lips flush against his until you sink back into him, reveling in his touch, his kiss, his everything while the sun slowly slips against your ocean kissed skin. You swallow his essence, inviting him in while his tongue swirls feverishly around yours. It’s like you’re in the middle of a cute little romance movie, but this is your reality. This is real.

He drags one of your bikini straps down, slipping his fingers underneath the silky teal top, grazing against the underside of your breast. “Joel, stop,” you groan. “This isn’t a nude beach,” you laugh.

“There ain’t nobody around, darlin’. Jus’ let me do one thing, yeah?” he asks while you silently nod your head in approval.

He drags one of your cups free, burying his face in your chest as he takes the flat of his tongue and gently swirls around your pebbled breast. You groan into the shell of his ear while his other hand lightly feathers against the folds of your already soaked center.

“Joel,” you warn, wrapping your arms around his salt covered neck as he nips up your collarbone. He slips a hand beneath your bikini bottoms and starts to slowly circle your puffy clit, eliciting a moan that falls like a melody against the curve of his ear.

“Yeah? That feel good, darlin’?” he asks, feeling just how drenched you are beneath your bikini. He presses harder against your aching bud, pulling you dangerously close to spilling over him as you feel a cold wave hit the backs of your feet.

“Joel, fuck - you’re gonna make me…”

“Make you come? Go on, gorgeous. Spill for me. Know you want to,” he purrs, his calloused fingers swirling swiftly around your bundle of nerves until you dig your fingers into the scruff of his neck and moan his name intensely while he elicits a long, amazing orgasm from you. Your body jolts at the aftershocks, coming down from your high as cum spills all over your teal bikini.

“Attagirl,” he praises, working you through your orgasm, then slipping his fingers inside his mouth to clean them off properly. He groans at the taste of you, savoring the flavor against his tongue.

He leans back and looks at you, glistening tanned skin and chocolate coated eyes you want to melt in. He’s absolutely stunning. “Joel Miller getting me off on the beach?” you smirk as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Mhm, couldn’t wait to get back to the room. Had to get a taste and repay you for the favor you did for me in the truck.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but laugh and roll him over into the sand. You climb on top of his chest and drape your arms over his broad shoulders while he brings his large hands up to rub your back softly.

“You’re the best, Miller. Best I ever had,” you smile as you rest your chin on his tanned chest.

“Mmm, think you’re the best, sweetheart. Never met a girl that got me quite like you do. You’re somethin’ else.”

He takes one of his fingertips and traces a heart in the sand, writing out your initials and drawing an arrow through the heart with a lovesick look in those pools of honey. You gawk at him, almost tearing up when you see how mesmerized he looks hovering over your initial, like it’s the most important thing in the world to him.

“There. Now it’s our beach. Jus’ yours and mine, baby. It’s written in the sand,” he lulls warmly.

You smile down at him, placing your hand against the soft scruff of his jaw and turn his face toward yours. You part your lips, almost speechless as words start to fail you. Joel really was a romantic after all. Your perfect, romantic, endearing boyfriend.

“Joel Miller. You amaze me every single day. And God, I’m just so in love with you,” you muse.

“Sweetheart, it’s me that’s so in love with you. Never gonna stop. It’s written in the sand, in the ocean, in the stars even. You’re mine, baby. All mine,” he whispers, staring up at you with the most endearing brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Everything about this moment is magical.

You gaze into the warmth of his honey eyes and play with his tousled curls, running your fingers through the soft locks as you get lost in his gaze. You stay like that another hour, listening to the lapping waves of the ocean, soaking up the warm sun, getting hopelessly lost in his mahogany and salt water scent. He’s got you wrapped around his finger, just like he is with you.

After a while, Joel helps you up off the sand and leads you across the shoreline. He takes your hand in his and guides you through the lapping water, taking in the salty breeze of the sea and the picturesque vision of you and him walking along the coast. It’s so romantic, so very special, and it feels so right. His strong hand in yours, him smiling down at you with those beautiful brown eyes, and his smile that sends you over the edge every single time. It’s all just so breathtaking.

Maybe this was fate after all, maybe you were meant to be on this beach with Joel the whole time. It sure seems like it now. You realize why it never worked with anyone else. It’s because Joel Miller was always the one. You just didn’t know it then, but you do now. He’s the one for you. Your forever.

After you and Joel have showered and thrown on white silky robes, you sit on the balcony and watch the sunset paint the sky purple and amber colors. You lean into Joel on the reclining chair, letting his fingertips trace up and down your arms slowly while his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask, watching the waves slowly lap against the sand while he murmurs in your ear.

“Mhm, gorgeous.” He grazes his lips against your cheek and whispers sweet words into your ear. “You wanna go back inside? Let me make love to my girl,” he whispers as he trails another kiss over your cheek.

You spin around and smile down at him. “Okay, handsome. What’d you have in mind?” you giggle.

He smirks up at you and chuckles. “You remember when we were watchin’ Scream on Halloween night, and I asked about the whole handcuff thing?”

You raise your eyebrows in question and nod. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, don’t exactly have the handcuffs, but that black silk ribbon I asked you to bring? Gonna use that to tie you to the headboard. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. That what you want?” he asks with a long Southern drawl, eyes darkening as he speaks to you in a deep voice.

You gulp and nod your head. “Okay, daredevil. Take me to bed then,” you whisper into the shell of his ear.

He wastes no time and hauls you up, cradling you in his strong arms as he makes his way through the sliding glass door, closing it with the heel of his foot. “On the bed for me, naked,” he instructs as you fully oblige.

The room is massive, marble countertops and fancy light fixtures filling the room. The room is dim, only a couple of lamps on as the luminescent dark blue walls cover the space. The king sized bed is pristine, white sheets with fluffy pillows covering the top of the bed. The headboard is made of light wood, and a small fireplace crackles underneath the 70 inch flat screen tv in the center of the room.

You slip off your robe, crawling onto the plush bed while Joel watches with wide eyes, grabbing a couple things from your pink suitcase that sits in the corner of the room. His eyes stay locked on yours, especially when you spread your legs wide and show him the sticky mess already building up over your warm core.

He licks his lips, dragging a hand slowly over his mouth while he feasts on your naked body. “Look at you, baby girl. Already so wet and ready for me. Christ, you’re a fuckin’ vision,” he purrs, leaning against the edge of the bed just mesmerized at the perfection that splays in front of him.

You smile, bedroom eyes slipping over his tanned form, and he knows exactly what that means. He crawls over you, pushing your legs further apart with his knees and catching your wrists above your head. “Stay still for me, sweetheart. Gonna tie you up now.”

You stay still, letting him collect your wrists above your head, gently tying the black silk ribbon against the headboard. You almost moan, feeling his thigh brush against your clit as he sits back to assess his work. “You okay? Not too tight?” he asks with concerned brown eyes.

“Feels perfect, Joel,” you smile, giving him a mischievous smirk while your foot hikes his robe up his tanned thigh. “Gonna take that off, Miller?”

He chuckles, untying the belt slowly and then ripping it off his body as it goes crashing to the floor. You gawk at him, watching his cock twitch before you, already hardening as he assesses your bare body before him.

“Look at my man. So handsome, tan, big, all mine,” you giggle.

“Mmm, all yours, gorgeous. Now breathe for me. Wanna try somethin’,” he murmurs with darkening eyes.

You see him spread your thighs more, trailing kisses up your inner thighs and brushing his nose through your folds, dragging it over your sensitive clit and ending in the soft curls above your mound.

He gives you a devilish grin and then licks a long, thick stripe up your core, sending a moan falling from your lips as he drinks in the taste of you. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl,” he groans, licking the slick from his lips slowly. “Now, for the fun part. Think you’re gonna love this,” he smiles.

He reaches behind his back and grabs the vibrator that was sitting underneath your clothes in your suitcase. He turns the power on, starting it slow as the buzzing noise fills the width of the room. Before he brings it to your center, he hovers it just over your clit as he speaks. “Take a deep breath. Gonna start it slow.”

Your breath falters when he places the end of the vibrator on your clit, pressing down and massaging slow circles across your bundle of nerves. “Fuck, Joel,” you whine, letting him revel in your long, drawn out moans.

“Attagirl, feels good don’t it?” he chuckles, watching the way your lips part and eyes blow wide.

“Yeah, it feels - ohhhhh,” you moan, feeling him slip two digits into your dripping hole, working them nice and slow, curling up into the spongy wall that makes you lose control.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let’s take it up a notch, shall we?” he smirks.

He switches the settings, powering the vibrator to a more intense level that has your legs shaking uncontrollably. He shifts his knee, pinning your thigh down so he can see the spasming movements of your ruined pussy.

His eyes expand into black pits, tongue licking against his bottom lip while he assesses the damage he does to your soaked core. He watches the way the slick runs down his knuckles, fingers fucking deep into your drenched pussy, obscene squelching noises and melodic moans filling the room. He’s never heard anything more beautiful in his entire life.

He presses down harder on your throbbing clit, the buzzing motion of the vibrator making you squirm beneath his calloused fingers. “Joel, I’m so close. I’m so - oh,” you writhe, hearing the wet noises of him fucking your pussy with his thick fingers faster and faster, feeling him coaxing you on each time his fingertips kiss that perfect spongy spot that makes you black out.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises, pressing downward on the vibrator and opening a whole new sensation that makes you form your lips into a wide O, white hot heat sliding down the edge of your spine.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whine, fusing your eyebrows together and choking on a moan.

“Come for me, beautiful. Make a mess on these fingers,” he coaxes.

One more brush of the vibrator and curl of his thick fingers and you’re gone. You moan his name, twisting your fingers into the silky ribbon as you feel the rush of bliss blow over you. You release for him, spilling all over his fingers, along with another wave of pleasure that overcomes you. You feel yourself squirt, watch yourself coat his broad chest, the scruff of his jaw with the slick that just keeps flowing.

“Oh, Jesus Christ you’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby. There she goes. Jus’ keeps on comin’. Fuckin’ drenchin’ me,” he purrs all mesmerized and hypnotic while he talks you through it.

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s a good girl,” he praises, turning the vibrator off while he collects slick against your glistening mound. He slides his fingers from your insides, popping his soaked digits into his mouth, groaning from the taste of you.

“Joel, that was incredible,” you pant, coming back to your body after the intense orgasm washes through you.

“Yeah? Well, I ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart,” he teases, a crooked smile forming over his beautiful face.

“Not yet?” you ask, laughing.

“Not yet,” he confirms with a glint in his blown out eyes.

Your eyes look down, staring at the large erection between his legs. His cock is thick, the head red and swollen while precum leaks down his shaft. You go wide-eyed, licking your lips as you gaze hungrily at him.

“Joel,” you whine.

“What do ya need, baby girl? Use your words.”

You strain against your bindings, panting desperately, trying to show him how badly you need him between your thighs. “Your cock. Need you inside, please,” you beg.

“Don’t gotta beg for me, darlin’. It’s all yours, I’m all yours,” he smiles.

He brings your legs over his shoulders, crawling between your thighs as he stretches you wide, cock gliding against your folds, collecting slick on his angry tip. You groan at the feeling of him, the tingling sensation his cock gives as it slides against your wetness.

“You ready for me?” he asks, brushing over your clit once more as you stifle a moan.

“Mhm,” you hum.

“Okay, baby girl. Deep breath for me,” he instructs.

He pushes into you, stretching you wide as his thick cock fills you to the brim. You pant, writhing beneath him while he starts a slow rhythm of going back and forth, his grunts becoming savage like when he talks you through it.

“There ya go, sweetheart. Takin’ me so good, jus’ like you always do,” he grunts out, his large hands caging you against him.

You want so badly to be able to run your hands through his hair, want to scratch your nails down the tanned skin of his back, feel the sweat building on his sculpted skin. Being tied up is hot, and something about not being in control right at this moment is really turning you on, but you also want to just be able to really feel him.

He sees you struggling with your wrists, pulling against the black silk while you pant out his name through every brush of his cock against your tight walls. He stills his thrusts, giving you a concerned look as he takes you in. “You okay, sweetheart? Is it too tight? Too much?” he asks with a soft voice.

“I just… This is really hot, Joel. But I kind of just want my hands free so I can touch you,” you say with glossy eyes.

He chuckles, nodding his head in understanding. “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart. Here, let me jus’ fix this real quick.” His arms go over your head, carefully untying your hands from the polished headboard. He throws the black silk ribbon on the nightstand and situates himself over you again, all while still being inside you. “Better?” he asks, a crooked smile draping over the curve of his mouth.

You throw your arms around his neck and let out a sigh of relief as your fingers scratch up the tousled curls on the back of his neck. “Better,” you smile.

“Now, let me get back to makin’ love to my girl,” he says with eyes that smother over with darkening irises.

He ruts back into you, speeding up his thrusts as his lips come down to meet yours. You part your lips and let him slot in, drowning out your moans with the slide of his tongue as he licks feverishly inside your mouth. You twist your fingers through his sandy colored curls, eliciting a grunt from his lips as your nail beds dig across his scalp.

He moves his lips down to your neck, teeth scraping along your collarbone, sucking against the sensitive areas all while his large palms cup your breasts, pebbling your nipples with every stroke of his calloused thumbs.

“Oh, right there,” you whine, feeling his cock reach that certain spongy spot that you can never reach yourself.

“Yeah, feel good?” he purrs along the shell of your ear, licking his tongue along the edge of it. “How ‘bout this?” he says with a devilish grin, eyes blowing wide with dark black pits.

“Fuck,” you moan, feeling his thumb draw meticulous circles across your swollen clit while his cock kisses the back of your cervix, spreading wet, obscene noises around the glow of the room as his balls slap frantically against your sweaty skin.

You dig your nails into the back of his shoulder blades as Joel folds you like a pancake and ruts deep inside you, his cock drenched in your sticky slick. Your walls squeeze him as you feel the hot heat slide down your spine. You’re so close to spilling.

“Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Want you to come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock. Attagirl,” he praises as he sees your eyebrows thread together, your body quivering beneath him.

He slides his thumb in slow circles over your buzzing clit, cock hitting your spongy wall again and again and again until you can’t hold back any longer. You squeeze his thick cock, moaning his name as white hot heat takes control of your body. You feel yourself start to spill, covering Joel in your blissful orgasm that coats him in your slick.

“Attagirl, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, talking you through your high as your body starts to come down from sweet release.

He pushes your legs further apart, cock working swiftly in and out of your core as he chases his own release. “Oh yeah, fuck me,” he growls, thrusting in and out faster and faster until he’s furrowing his eyebrows together and clenching his jaw, spilling hot ropes of cum inside you till he collapses at your side and pulls you flush to his chest.

You both pant out in exhaustion, sheets soaked from the sweat of skin on skin, bodies tangled together as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and smiles warmly over at you. “Did so good for me, baby. Always do so good,” he praises, leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek as you take in the starry flecks of amber brown of his dreamy eyes.

“Thanks for showing me something new. Never knew I could be so into bondage,” you tease, smirking his way with flirtatious eyes he can’t seems to look away from.

“Mmm, we’ll jus’ have to explore those kinks together then, yeah?”

You giggle while you run a hand through his messy curls, taking in this beautiful moment of you and Joel on a weekend getaway together. It feels so natural, so right being here with him. You guess it’s just always felt like this ever since starting this whole thing with him.

After a few minutes of just staring at one another mesmerized, Joel traces his thumb across your bottom lip and smiles gently at you. “You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you when I met you?” he asks quietly.

“What?” you laugh gently, placing your palm over the top of his hand.

“Your eyes. Never saw such beautiful eyes before. And your smile. God, that gorgeous smile. Thought I was seein’ an angel the first time you looked at me.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat, the outside waves being muted from the man that lies in front of you. “Joel… that’s so… wow,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Think I was in love before we even started dating, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest with myself, I should’ve known all along. You’re exactly the woman I’ve been lookin’ for. You’re so beautiful and smart and kind. I’m jus’ so… fuck, I jus’ love you a lot.”

Your mouth drops open, a gasp leaving your throat as you stare at him like a lovesick puppy. You’re almost too overwhelmed right now with tears licking the backs of your eyes. “Joel Miller, you sweet, sweet man. I never thought… I only dreamed that this could all be real. I never knew it’d turn into this. But I’m so crazy about you, and I love you so so much.”

His eyes tear up, brown syrupy flecks glistening back at you in the starry moonlight. He looks so happy and so in love that your heart swells like a balloon in your chest. “Thank you again for taking me to Galveston. You’re the best, Miller,” you smile, fingers entwining with his.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’d take you here anytime. Jus’ say the words, I’ll take you anywhere. As long as I get to be with my girl, that’s enough for me,” he smiles.

You pull him in for a long kiss, getting lost in the scent of the ocean breeze and the woodsy scent of his cologne. This may last forever, it may not, but you’re going to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts.

Tags: @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @bbyanarchist @vividispunk @mrslawrencealbarn @pedrossl4t @pedroswife69 @sarap-77 @casa-boiardi @princesatracionera @msjarvis

#joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #joel miller pedro pascal #daddy’s best friend mr. miller #joel miller fan fiction

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polo-drone-001 · 3 months ago

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Part 1: The Tension

Ezan took great pride in the Gold he wore. Each morning, he looked at his reflection, admiring the way his kit gleamed—a powerful emblem of unity, strength, and identity. To him, Gold was not just color or uniform; it was purpose. It was power. But when @polo-drone-105 joined the team, everything shifted. Unlike others who had gradually been molded into the Golden way, 105 arrived as something else, already transformed, wearing a blank, unwavering gaze and a devotion that Ezan couldn’t understand. It was a devotion that didn’t elevate Gold but consumed it, twisted it into something darker.

One morning during drills, Ezan overheard 105 speaking in a low, intense voice, his words laced with something unsettling. “True Gold followers don’t merely wear Gold; they embody it by surrendering all that they are,” 105 murmured, his eyes fixed and unblinking. “You don’t wear Gold to contain it. To truly serve, you must abandon individuality. Gold is too pure to be held in flawed hands. We must embrace rubber—the only true path to enlightenment.”

A chill ran through Ezan, his pride morphing into anger. He squared up to 105, his voice sharp, an edge of defiance in every word. “That’s not Gold. Gold is tradition, loyalty, strength. We’re here to honor it, not to dissolve ourselves into it. Gold holds us together, but we don’t lose ourselves to it. I am Gold. I stand for Gold.”

105’s face remained impassive, his voice a quiet murmur of conviction. “You cling to a false image, Ezan. Gold is beyond what you understand. It’s not meant for you to keep—it’s purity incarnate. Only by surrendering all that you are can you come close to its truth.”

The words lingered, their weight pressing down on Ezan long after he turned away. His faith wavered, leaving a hollow doubt that was hard to ignore. @polo-drone-063 and @polo-drone-070 had watched the exchange with unreadable expressions, while Brody had come forward, his tone gentle yet firm. “Ezan, we’re all on our own path here. Some choose to follow, some choose to surrender. We don’t force any brother. Remember, harmony is strength. And strength… is Gold.”

Ezan nodded, suppressing the frustration bubbling in his chest. He didn’t want to be the one to break the team’s unity, so he looked at Brody and muttered, “I apologize.” It didn’t feel right, but he bowed his head.

063 stepped forward with a quiet smile, offering him something sleek and dark—the rubbery gleam of a black polo shirt. “Here,” 063 murmured, his voice a gentle suggestion, his eyes almost vacant. “Just try it. Feel the fit. Feel the strength.”

Ezan shook his head, stepping back. “No… I’m Gold. This… this isn’t for me.”

070 blocked him, his voice soft, lulling. “It’s just a shirt, Ezan. You’re stronger than this, aren’t you? It’s not going to convert you. Just try it.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he snatched the shirt, pulling it on with a scowl. “Fine,” he muttered, sliding it over his shoulders. But the second the fabric touched his skin, he felt a tingling warmth run through him. The material hugged his body, molding to him perfectly, like it was made for him. It was smooth, cool, but as it settled, a strange warmth spread, sinking into his skin, deeper with each breath. In the mirror, he saw a figure more powerful, more imposing, a figure with a gleam in its eye that held an unfamiliar power.

“See? It’s just a shirt,” 070 murmured, a soft smirk curving his lips.

Ezan couldn’t look away, his hands roaming over the smooth fabric, feeling the strength radiating from it. He tried to stop touching it, tried to remove it, but he couldn’t resist the allure. It felt perfect, like it was more than fabric, like it was bonding with him, wrapping itself around his very identity.

Just then, 105 stepped forward, his voice low, smooth, cutting through Ezan’s dazed state. “Gold isn’t yours to claim. It’s too pure for a human. Only those who abandon their flawed selves can serve. Only those who surrender can touch its essence.”

Ezan’s thoughts began to blur, the strength of his convictions fading, slipping beneath 105’s words. His hands stilled on the rubber shirt, his mind blanking, every word from 105 burrowing deep into his mind. 105 leaned in close, his voice almost a whisper, yet it echoed in Ezan’s skull.

“Abandon your past, Ezan. Abandon the lie you call yourself. Only as a drone can you reach true enlightenment.”

The words rippled through his mind like waves, eroding every thought until he could barely feel the shape of his own identity. He blinked at the reflection in the mirror, but the eyes staring back were vacant, hollow, empty of resistance.

Join the Golden Army. Experience transformation like never before—total unity, absolute purpose. Embrace the power, the discipline, and the collective. Your place awaits among us. DM to take the first step, or apply through our interim Co-Captain @brodygold or @polo-drone-009. Feel the bliss.

Part 2

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mrs-hatake · 1 month ago

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what a second... do you like the yandere trope 👀 not a formal request but like... the well is running dry on yandere versions of the lads men, any possibility you can write smth for them? u can do just Caleb if that makes u comfortable!! I just need yan!lnds but not many people in the fanbase do it 😔

i LOVE yandere!! especially when it’s well written 👌🏼

tbh, aside from caleb and (maybe) xavier, i can’t see any of the lads men as the yendere type, especially sylus. however, i think zayne can go down the yandere route at some point in his life.

i don’t have any plot ideas :( but i can tell you which types of yandere they are or they might be :)

caleb:

i think caleb would be the type of yandere who inserts himself in your life and plant his seeds of his possession from the start. he’s the type that will manipulate you into thinking he’s the only one you need. and that takes time and training. he’ll use a punishment and reward type of system; you do something wrong; he’ll either ignore you or give you short and clipped answers. you do something right and he’ll return to his usual self, praising you with smiles and a head pat.

he won’t outright isolate you from your friends but he’ll somehow convince you that they aren’t a priority.

xavier:

i don’t know anything about him since i always skip what he says lol so pls don’t came at me when i say he’s the jealous type of yandere.

he’s the type that has to be better than anyone else; stronger, faster, smarter, richer and so one and so forth.

xavier doesn’t like when guys approach you because he thinks they’re useless and aren’t worth your time.

zayne:

if zayne ever became a yandere, he’d be the overly obsessed type of yandere. he literally knows everything about you. What size shoes you wear, what type of toothpaste you use, what time you came home after work, the random elderly woman whom you helped cross the street and he even knows that you lost 0.5kg from a single glance.

he has to know who you’re with, where you are, why are you talking to someone, etc.

zayne even has several photo albums that he organized based on date, day, time and sometimes mood or weather. this guy’s nuts tbh.

sylus:

like i said, i can’t see him as the yandere type but if he were one, he’d be the harmless type. he’s aware of obsession over you so he knows how to control it.

sylus would be obsessed but not like zayne. he’s the type that places you on a pedestal, views you as a superior human so he must work hard to please and satisfy you.

he has you living in a gorgeous home. he’s showering you in money and adorns your arms in expensive jewelry. sylus is cooking delicious food, so good, that you never dine out or oder in anymore.

sylus loves you unconditionally, flaws and all. even when you do something wrong, he still accepts them because it a part of you. he doesn’t feel hurt because you often come around and correct your wrong doing.

rafayel:

he’s also the harmless type of yandere. his mantra is, “if you’re happy, then i’m happy.”

rafayel knows how to read you so he knows how to adapt to your mood. you’re upset? then he’ll be the perfect shoulder to cry on, the best therapist there is, he’d so anything to see you smiling again.

you’re feeling bright and bubbly? then rafayel is also intoxicated with exuberance. in need of a best friend, rafayel is there too.

like caleb, he molds himself into the perfect object for you to rely on. and if he doesn’t know something or doesn’t have a certain skill set, then he’ll teach and train himself until he masters them.

you don’t need friends, family or lovers to rely on when you have rafayel right there by your side.

#lads fanfic #lads headcanons #lads hcs #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #caleb x reader #yandere!lads #yandere!sylus #yandere!zayne #yandere!caleb #yandere sylus #yandere zayne #yandere caleb

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vacoomer · 18 days ago

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The Bindings 2

Part 1

The man’s footsteps echoed as he walked down the creaking hallway, leaving behind the heavy silence that now clung to the apartment like a suffocating blanket. [Name] remained frozen in place, her gaze fixed on the card that had slipped from his fingers, resting on the floor in front of her like a reminder of everything she had tried to bury.

The offer still stands.

The words lingered in the air long after he had left, gnawing at her. She didn’t want to pick up the card, didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted comfort it promised. Yet, as the faint glow of the neon sign outside flickered and the first rays of dawn began to pierce the darkness, a strange tug pulled at her chest. It was a pull she couldn't quite explain—an internal conflict between rejecting the past and confronting it.

She stepped forward slowly, the weight of the room’s stillness making her movements feel like an intrusion in her own life. Her hand hovered over the card, the sleek business card lying innocently on the floor, its edges crisp, its surface clean. Almost too clean. The number scrawled on the back seemed to mock her, daring her to pick it up and take the step she had been avoiding for five years.

Her fingers brushed against it, cold and fragile in her grasp, as though it might crumble under the weight of her hesitation. She turned it over. The digits were clear, stark against the black ink.

45 billion won. A life rebuilt or shattered. Her choice.

The irony of it stung. All this time, she had convinced herself that the price she had paid was too high, that her peace could only be found in isolation. But now, standing at the precipice of it all, she wasn’t so sure. The weight of the choice felt almost unbearable. She had buried the pain, shut out the memories of the people she had watched die, and locked away the anguish of having survived. But was this truly living? Was this the life she had imagined when she had walked away from the games, with her fortune and her soul hanging in the balance?

As the sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room, she realized that she was still running. Running from the past, running from herself. The recruiter had been right in some ways—she had molded herself into something she thought was safer, a shadow of the woman she used to be, but had it really made her stronger? Or just more fragile?

A sudden surge of anger flared within her, directed at him, at the games, at the world that had twisted her into something she didn’t even recognize. But it wasn’t just him she was angry with. It was the system, the life that had been forced upon her, the endless suffering that had come with winning something that was supposed to be a blessing.

She closed her hand around the card, the edges pressing into her palm like a warning. Her heart raced, uncertainty flooding her veins, but beneath the uncertainty, there was something else—a glimmer of hope, the smallest flicker that maybe, just maybe, this was her chance to reclaim control.

Her thoughts collided, the anger, the guilt, the shame—all intertwined in a web that felt impossible to unravel. But the one thing that remained clear in the center of it all was the truth she had buried deep: she couldn’t continue living like this.

She had a choice. It wasn’t about redemption or forgiveness. It was about her. The woman she had been and the woman she could still be.

With a shaky breath, she dialed the number.

The phone rang twice before a voice answered—cool, detached, and all too familiar. "Yes?" The recruiter’s voice was a velvet rasp, as though he had been expecting this moment all along.

“I’m listening.” Her voice was steady, but beneath the calm, a storm brewed.

The silence on the other end was long, deliberate. Then, finally, he spoke.

“I knew you’d come around eventually.”

Her hand clenched tighter around the phone, but she didn’t waver. “I’ll need more than a promise of power,” she replied, her voice hardening with resolve. "I need you to explain exactly what you want from me."

His chuckle was low, almost predatory, yet there was something else there—something acknowledging in his tone, as if he had been waiting for her to reach this point all along. "You’ll see soon enough, [Name]."

And for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t afraid.

She didn’t know what was coming next, but for once, she was ready to face it.

The days that followed were a blur of restless anticipation and cold, sleepless nights. Each hour stretched like an eternity, filled with thoughts of what lay ahead. The recruiter’s words echoed in her mind, haunting yet oddly comforting. You’ll see soon enough, [Name].

She had made the decision—there was no turning back now. As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, she prepared herself for what was to come. The apartment had grown too small, too confining. The walls, once a barrier, now felt like they were closing in on her, pushing her toward a new path she hadn’t quite mapped out yet.

The phone call had been short, a date and a mere exchange of coordinates. A secluded part of the city. Abandoned, quiet. No one would be watching. No one would care. It was a place where the past could be forgotten, buried under layers of concrete and steel.

The thought of facing him again stirred something deep within her—something primal, something she couldn’t quite understand. She had chosen this. Chosen to let him show her what it meant to become like him, to embrace whatever it was that had turned him into the monster he was. She wasn’t ready to admit it, but a small, dangerous part of her longed for it. She longed for control, for mastery over her own life, even if that meant wielding power like a blade, cutting through everything that stood in her way.

Her footsteps were deliberate as she left her apartment, each one a reminder that she was stepping into a world she had once feared. A world where survival wasn’t just about living—it was about becoming something else entirely.

The city was quiet, unnervingly so, as she navigated through the labyrinth of streets. It was late, the kind of late where only shadows remained. The neon lights from the bars and shops had dimmed, leaving the streets bathed in the ghostly glow of streetlights. She didn’t know why, but she felt the weight of the city pressing in on her—its pulse beating in sync with her own.

She reached the location just as the clock struck midnight. An abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the district, tucked away behind a row of dilapidated buildings. The place looked as though it had been forgotten, its metal walls rusting, the windows boarded up with rotting wood. Yet it felt alive. Alive with the echoes of memories she didn’t want to remember, memories she couldn’t escape.

The door creaked open at her touch, the sound a harsh contrast to the quiet night. She stepped inside, her breath hitching as the door clicked shut behind her, plunging her into darkness.

"Welcome," a voice said from the shadows. Deep. Unwavering. Familiar.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look for him. She knew he was there, watching her, waiting for her to make the first move. She was the one who had come to him. She had made the choice. He would let her take the lead, for now.

She stepped forward, her footsteps echoing off the concrete floor. She couldn’t see him yet, but she felt his presence like a weight on her chest. The recruiter’s figure materialized out of the shadows, emerging with smooth, calculated movements. He was wearing the same black suit, his expression unreadable beneath the cold glow of the single overhead light.

"Do you understand what you’ve come here for?" he asked, his voice low and deliberate, carrying the weight of a thousand secrets.

[Name] didn’t answer immediately. She was still processing, still trying to put the pieces together in her mind. She had made a choice, but what exactly did that mean? What did she expect from this meeting?

Finally, she nodded. "I understand. You’re going to teach me how to become like you."

A flicker of something—satisfaction, perhaps—passed across his face, but it was gone before she could fully register it. He stepped closer to her, his presence overwhelming, like a force of nature pressing in on her.

"You want power," he said, his voice a smooth, almost hypnotic drawl. "You want to be able to take control of your life. To stop running, to stop hiding. But you must understand that with power comes cost."

She squared her shoulders, feeling her heart race. "I’m ready for the cost."

He chuckled darkly. "Are you? I think you’re still naïve. You believe you can control this. But in reality, control is an illusion. It’s only about who you are willing to destroy to get what you want. You want to be like me, but are you prepared to pay the price?"

The words cut through her like a blade, but she held her ground. She was tired of pretending she wasn’t capable of darkness. She had been through hell and back. She had survived. And now, it was time to finally learn how to live—truly live.

"I’m ready," she said again, this time with more conviction. "Teach me."

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes piercing, as if he was looking straight through her. Then, finally, he nodded, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Very well," he said, his voice low and full of purpose. "Let’s begin."

The training was grueling. The recruiter taught her not just how to think like him, but how to be him—how to shed every ounce of weakness, every emotion that might cloud her judgment. How to view the world as a game, and how to play it better than anyone else.

They began with strategy. Every decision, every move in life was a calculated risk. She learned to watch people, to read them as if they were open books, their weaknesses etched into their faces, their gestures, their eyes. She learned to make deals, to barter with more than just money. Power was currency, and she was going to become an expert in trade.

Next, he taught her the art of manipulation. How to make people do what she wanted without them even realizing it. It was subtle, a gentle nudge, a whisper in the right ear. It was about controlling the narrative, bending others to your will without them ever questioning it. She was good at it. Too good.

But the hardest lesson of all came when he forced her to confront her own demons. To face the trauma, the fear, the guilt that had driven her for so long. She thought she had buried those feelings, but he made her dig them up, piece by piece. He pushed her to examine everything she had done, everyone she had hurt, and use that pain as fuel, not as a weight.

"It’s not about forgetting," he told her during one of their late-night sessions, his voice soft yet chilling. "It’s about using it. Channeling it. You’ve been running from your past, but in reality, it’s the key to your power. Embrace it."

Each lesson, each day, twisted her further. She could feel herself changing, molding into something different, something darker. The woman who had entered that warehouse was no longer the same woman who walked out. The lines between right and wrong blurred. What once felt like betrayal now felt like survival. She had shed the skin of the naive girl who had been broken by the games.

She was learning to be something else. Something better. Something stronger.

And the recruiter? He was no longer just a man in a black suit. He had become something more. A mentor. A mirror. A person she now confided in.

She often wondered if she let her guard down too fast, too unprepared. Yet, after she started learning his arts, he never gave her a reason to mistrust him anymore. She thought as if he also confided in her like she did in him.

The building was always quiet, but tonight it felt heavier, more oppressive. The low hum of distant traffic, the faint echo of footsteps in the hallway—all of it seemed like a distant memory as [Name] stepped into the space where their meetings always took place. Her pulse quickened as she crossed the threshold, as if she could sense the weight of what was about to unfold.

She took notice of the shift in the atmosphere a long time ago. Innocent, almost too casual touches. She didn’t know what was the cause of this though.

He was already there, standing by the tall, dark windows that looked out over the city, the last of the daylight retreating, leaving a stretch of deep blue in its wake. He didn’t turn as she entered, but she knew he was aware of her presence, the way the room seemed to tense in anticipation.

"You're late," he said, the coolness of the words, almost dismissive, masking something deeper.

Her eyes narrowed as she walked toward him, taking in the slight, mocking tilt of his lips. He knew what he was doing—pushing her buttons, watching her, trying to provoke her reaction. It was a game, but one that was becoming harder and harder to play. She had learned to read him, his every shift in posture, his every calculated glance. But tonight, there was something different. Something underneath it all.

"I had things to do," she replied, her voice controlled but carrying the weight of a challenge. She could feel him watching her as she approached, sensing his eyes on her skin as if he were tracing every line, every subtle movement.

As she stood before him, just close enough to feel the heat of his body, she couldn’t ignore the tension that hung between them. It was something that had always existed, but now it was sharper, more electric. There was no denying it anymore—every time they met, it became harder to pretend that she wasn’t drawn to him in ways that made her uncomfortable. Ways that made her afraid.

But she couldn't back down now. Not after everything she had been through, not after everything she had learned. She had made a choice to come back, to step into his world again. And this time, she would control the narrative.

"You’ve been watching me," she said, her words quiet but firm, almost like an accusation.

He turned his head then, the sharpness of his gaze locking with hers. His eyes were dark, intense, like an abyss that threatened to swallow her whole. "What else would I do?" His voice was low, rough. "You think you can just slip away from this, from me?"

Her breath caught in her throat. He was closer now, his hand brushing the side of her arm as he took a step toward her. The contact was light, almost casual, but it sent a jolt through her body. A reminder of the power he had over her. A power that was becoming harder to ignore.

"You're becoming like me," he said softly, almost as if to himself, his eyes flicking down to her lips before meeting her gaze again. There was something almost pleased in his tone—he was watching her evolve, watching her give in, bit by bit.

She stood there, feeling the weight of his words like a heavy stone pressing against her chest. "I’m nothing like you," she retorted, her voice colder now, harder. But even as she said it, she felt the lie. There were moments when she found herself thinking like him, acting like him, taking pleasure in the things he had taught her—the darkness, the manipulation, the power.

He chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through the air. "You’re just lying to yourself, [Name]. You’re more like me than you realize." His gaze darkened, his smile tightening into something far less playful. "But I’m not here to push you. Not tonight. Tonight, I want to see if you’re ready for what comes next." The air between them was thick with heat now, the tension almost unbearable.

"I have to decline the offer, I wanted to do so from the start." she stated firmly, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. The close proximity makes her head swirl.

The air between them crackled with tension, his face mere inches from hers, his breath a warm whisper against her skin. He leaned in slightly, as if inviting her to bridge the gap, but her instincts took over, igniting a fire within her that her mind struggled to comprehend. Her heart raced wildly, and her hands, resting on his chest, could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a reminder of the closeness they shared.

"I was aware of that from the beginning," he replied, his gaze intense and unwavering. "But honestly, I no longer wish for you to accept it. I would much prefer to keep you close, just for myself." As he spoke, his hand found its way to her lower back, drawing her in even tighter, as if he wanted to shield her from the world around them.

"You don’t have to fight this anymore," he whispered. "You know that, right?" His fingers brushed the curve of her neck, tracing the delicate line of her jaw as though mapping out the places he had touched her before. "You can let go now. Let me in."

The words were soft, coaxing. But they were also an order. A command. He wasn’t asking for permission. He never had. And as much as she wanted to resist, wanted to shove him away and scream at him for trying to break her, she couldn’t.

Because every word he spoke, every touch, every glance, dug deeper into the part of her that had long been dormant. The part of her that needed him, even though she hated it. Even though it terrified her.

His lips brushed against her ear as he spoke again, his voice low and almost seductive. "You feel it, don’t you? The need. The hunger for more. You crave it just as much as I do."

The truth of his words rattled her. It was the lie she had been telling herself—this wasn’t just power. This wasn’t just control. It was something else. Something darker. Something she couldn’t escape.

A gasp escaped her lips, a sudden intake of air that seemed to freeze time as his mouth met hers at last. The kiss ignited a spark that coursed through her veins, wild and untamed, as if he were consuming her essence in a single, fervent sweep. She surrendered to the intensity of the moment, allowing herself to be swept away by the tempest of desire and shadow he had woven around her, feeling as though she had finally discovered her rightful place in the chaos.

The world around them faded into a blur, the noise and distractions dissolving into nothingness as their lips connected. It was a kiss that transcended mere physicality, charged with an energy that felt almost primal, as if he were claiming her in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. She embraced the whirlwind of emotions that surged within her, letting go of all reservations and diving headfirst into the depths of the passion he stirred in her soul, a place where she felt both vulnerable and invincible.

Just moments before, his hand had gently cradled her cheek, a tender gesture that spoke volumes of affection. Now, that same hand has shifted, encircling her neck with a possessive yet intimate grip. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down her spine, igniting a spark of electricity between them that is impossible to ignore.

Meanwhile, his other hand roams freely across her lower back, tracing delicate patterns that seem to dance across her skin. Each movement is deliberate, a silent invitation that draws her nearer to him, as if the very air around them is charged with an unspoken desire. The world around them fades into a blur, leaving only the two of them in this moment of shared intimacy.

As he pulls her closer, the space between them evaporates, and she can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her own.

(Next Part 18+ —> Part 3)

#salesman x reader #gong yoo x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game #squid game season 2 #the salesman x reader #the recruiter #the recruiter x reader #squid game x reader #squid game x you #the salesman #the salesman x you

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oobbbear · 11 months ago

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An original species inspired my the moon phases :]! Long post warning ⚠️

These are new moons, they are the smallest and the weakest sub species of the moon kinds

These little creatures can be found everywhere, some living amongst the humans, some in the forest, some even under water

Their height range from 5cm to 30cm

New moons who lives in the human world disguises themselves as everyday objects so they can blend in and not be caught, they steal little trinkets and foods when human’s not looking

These are the crescent moons, they act mostly the same as new moons the only difference is they’re taller and stronger

New moons would sometimes disguise themselves as other moon species so they don’t get attacked by them. Moons are not the kindest to the other sub species. New Moons usually go out in a group of 3 or more, that way they can look out for each other in the big dangerous world.

New moons dress up in heavy layers not only to blend in with their surroundings, it also because their natural body is very soft and fragile, they need the layer of protection to not die easily in the wild

Their disguise of choice is like their second skin it aids and protects them, even tho it is changeable and won’t hurt them when damaged, the little guys value them greatly

This is a Sun, they are the natural enemies of the Moons, while Moons are like little humans, Sun are more like big shiny long dogs, they’re not as smart as the moons but they are much stronger and faster than them

Suns hunts New Moons as food

And in return New Moons do the same

Whenever a Sun is killed by the New Moons, the little creatures would gather together and throw a big party to celebrate their rare victory against their biggest threat in the wild

They called the celebration “The Feast of Eclipse”, like the name, Eclipse appears rarely, and it is the only time a moon can dominate a sun, even if only for a short amount of time

During the celebration, they would dance and sing around their kill and pray for the safety of their kind and for their god to protect them against the many predators they face. It’s a traditional ritual for them

After the ritual, they would cut up the Sun beast and prepare its flesh for the feast. Suns are very good nutritions for the Moons so they won’t let anything go to waste, they make wine out of their blood and meat for the main dishes, after the meal left over flesh will be make into jerkies, and bones will be turn into tools or decorations

Enough about New Moon, let's talk about some other sub species of Moons

This is a Full moon, they are the rarest of the Moon kind. Alike other Moons, they also disguises themselves to blend in their surroundings, but unlike others who gathers material to make their second skin, Full Moons are natural shapeshifters. They release a orb like liquid from the back of their head which made up their body, they can mold it into any form, the only flaw is that they are not able so change their facial structure and their skin patterns.

Full Moons are on the top of the Moon food chain, they eat every single Moon species which including their own kind. These bastards eat ugly look away.

They are the only Moon kind who can own and train a Sun, some keep them as pets but most use as hunting dogs to catch New Moons.

This is all I got at the moment! here's a chart of all the Moon phases, I am planning to introduce the Quarters and Gibbous in the future so keep an eye out if you're interested! I love making character concept it gives my brain something to work with when I'm on break :]

Oh also! feel free to make your own little Moon Phase creature designs and please tag me if you plan to post it I wanna see I’m curious what y’all make of them!

#my art #oc #Moon phase creatures #character design #character concept #cw animal death #cw blood #tw blood #cw body horror #full moons are so weird I love them so much

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shybluebirdninja · 2 months ago

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FADING BONDS: PART 5 (THE FINAL)

Summary: Two broken souls—Logan, an aging hero, and a young woman overlooked by her own family—find solace in each other’s silent company, forming an unexpected connection that challenges their emotional walls.

Pairing : UberDriver!Logan x Fem!Reader

Genre : Angst, Fluff

The day had come, the moment when your family confronted you with the truth they had unearthed about Logan. You could see it in their eyes, the horror mixed with disbelief, as if you had just admitted to committing a crime. “How could you choose him?” your mother’s voice wavered, each word dripping with disappointment. “He’s broken—he has nothing to offer you.”

You could feel the pressure building, the weight of their expectations crashing down on your chest. “He’s more than that. You just don’t see it,” you argued, your voice trembling but firm. “Logan understands me in ways you never could.”

Your father stepped in, his tone stern. “You’re making a mistake. You need to cut ties with him. It’s him or us.”

The ultimatum hung in the air, suffocating you. It wasn’t a decision you could make lightly. The love you felt for your family wrestled with the fierce connection you shared with Logan. But as you looked at their faces, contorted with fear and anger, a sudden clarity washed over you.

“Maybe I’m the one who needs to choose what’s right for me,” you finally said, your heart pounding. “And right now, that’s Logan.”

The realization hit you like a freight train, but it felt liberating. You weren’t sure where this path would lead, but you felt stronger knowing you were standing up for what you believed in, for the one person who truly saw you.

Later that night, Logan stood outside, leaning against his car, the headlights casting shadows on his rugged face. He looked up as you approached, his expression unreadable. “Did they freak out?” he asked, his voice low, filled with that familiar gravel that made your heart ache.

“Yeah,” you admitted, biting your lip. “They… they gave me an ultimatum.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, the tension in his shoulders evident. “And you?”

You took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage. “I chose you.”

His eyes softened, a flicker of warmth breaking through the steely facade. “You sure about that? It’s not gonna be easy. I’m not exactly the guy you take home to meet the folks.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied, stepping closer, feeling the heat radiating off him. “But I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

He nodded slowly, letting your words sink in. There was a weighty silence between you, filled with unspoken fears and hopes. And then, without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, as if the world outside might crumble if he let go.

The ride was quiet, the engine humming softly beneath you as you sped down the empty road. Logan gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, his eyes fixed ahead. The moonlight illuminated the tension etched across his face, a mixture of relief and lingering doubt.

You glanced over at him, feeling the weight of everything unsaid. “You know they’ll never understand us, right?” you said softly, breaking the silence.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, his voice low and steady. “What matters is that we understand each other.”

“Yeah, but what if they try to come after us?” You knew your family well enough to know they wouldn’t just let this go.

Logan’s gaze hardened as he turned to meet your eyes. “Let them try. I’ve faced worse shit than disapproval.” His words held a truth that made you feel both scared and exhilarated. You knew he’d fight for you, for the both of you, and that realization sent a shiver down your spine.

The road stretched out before you, a blur of asphalt and stars, but it felt like you were leaving behind more than just a house and a family. You were shedding the skin of the person you used to be, the expectations and suffocating love that had tried to mold you into someone you weren’t.

As the miles passed, you reached for Logan’s hand, lacing your fingers together. “I hope I’m not making a huge mistake,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned his head slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a half-smile. “Life’s a gamble, darlin’. Sometimes you gotta bet it all on the one thing that feels right.”

You squeezed his hand tighter, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, grounding you in this moment. “I just want to feel free for once. With you.”

Logan’s expression softened, the weight of your shared past lingering between you like a ghost. “We’ll figure it out. Just… don’t look back, alright? Keep your eyes on the road ahead.”

With every passing mile, the weight on your chest felt lighter. You knew the future wasn’t guaranteed. You both were broken, each carrying scars that wouldn’t fade, but there was something beautiful about embracing the mess together.

You leaned your head against the window, feeling the cool glass against your skin. There was a bittersweet ache in your chest, but it was accompanied by a flicker of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, you had chosen the right path.

The road stretched out endlessly before you, a testament to the uncertain journey ahead. But for the first time, it felt like the right choice. With Logan by your side, you felt a sense of freedom that had long eluded you. And even though the shadows of your past loomed large, together, you were ready to face whatever lay ahead, hand in hand, heart to heart.

You felt the chains of your old life fall away, replaced by the promise of a new beginning—one where love could flourish, even in the darkness.

(THE END)

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bluelavendre · 26 days ago

Text

Title: "Strength in the Ranks"

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: RM (Kim Namjoon) x reader

Genre: Military Romance to Angst..

During his military enlistment, Kim Namjoon found himself facing challenges he hadn’t prepared for. The early days were tough—the drills, the exhaustion, the feeling of being constantly on edge. But there was one thing that caught him off guard more than anything: her.

Her name was [Y/N], and she was part of a female platoon, standing tall and commanding with a presence that seemed to overshadow everyone around her. Namjoon noticed her immediately, not just because of her position, but because of the way she moved, the way she commanded attention without ever needing to raise her voice. She was a leader, every inch of her disciplined and focused, but there was something about her that made Namjoon uneasy. It wasn’t her skill or experience—it was her strength, her confidence, and the way she held herself with such authority. It intimidated him in a way he hadn’t expected.

The first time they interacted, Namjoon had been struggling during a particularly grueling morning drill. His body was already aching, his muscles burning, and his mind was screaming for him to stop. He was clearly not keeping up, and she had noticed. Without hesitation, she called him out, her voice sharp and unyielding.

“Namjoon! Why are you lagging behind?” she asked, stepping up beside him.

“I’m... I’m just trying to adjust, ma’am,” he replied, out of breath and feeling small under her gaze.

Her eyes scanned him carefully before she nodded. “You’re not here to try. You’re here to do. You’ll push through it, or you’ll be left behind.”

It was a simple command, but the weight of it settled on his chest. She wasn’t just training recruits—she was shaping them, molding them into something more. Something stronger.

The next day, she was there again, her voice always cutting through the noise of the training field, directing her platoon with ease. Namjoon couldn’t help but watch her, his admiration growing with every interaction. But it wasn’t just her leadership that captivated him—it was the way she carried herself, like she had a deep, unshakable understanding of what it meant to be strong. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally. She was relentless, pushing herself and those around her to their limits.

One afternoon, after a particularly brutal set of drills, she came to him, offering a hand to help him up as he lay on the ground, gasping for air. “You’re not done yet,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “We have one more set.”

Namjoon blinked, exhaustion clouding his vision, but something in her gaze made him push through. He wasn’t sure what it was—her confidence, the way she believed in him when he didn’t believe in himself—but something stirred in him, and he pushed himself to his feet. She didn’t need to say anything else; her presence alone was enough to inspire him.

As the days went by, Namjoon felt himself changing. His body grew stronger, but it was his mind that was shifting the most. He began to see the world through a different lens—one where determination and resilience were just as important as skill. And he owed a lot of that to her.

One evening, after the day’s drills had ended, they found themselves standing alone on the training grounds, the stars just beginning to appear above them. Namjoon had been quiet all night, his thoughts swirling around everything he had learned so far, and about the woman who had helped him get to this point.

“You’ve come a long way, Namjoon,” she said, her voice softening for the first time since they had met. Her usual tough exterior was still there, but there was a small crack in it now.

He looked at her, feeling a strange warmth spreading through him. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he admitted, his words coming out more sincere than he had intended.

She gave him a small smile, her eyes softening just a fraction. “I didn’t do it for you. You did it for yourself. You just needed to see it.”

The air between them felt different now, charged with something unspoken. Namjoon had never thought he could admire someone so much, but there was something about her—her strength, her confidence, her ability to lead—that had drawn him in. It wasn’t just the way she commanded respect; it was the way she made him believe in his own potential.

For the first time, he wasn’t intimidated by her. Instead, he felt a deep respect, one that went beyond admiration. She had become more than just a mentor to him—she had become someone he looked up to, someone who made him want to be better, not just in the military, but in life.

As the silence stretched between them, Namjoon felt something shift. Maybe it was the shared experience of struggle, of pushing each other to be better. Or maybe it was just the simple fact that they had spent so much time together, testing each other’s limits. But whatever it was, he knew that she had become an important part of his life.

And as he looked at her, standing tall and unyielding, he realized that this—this connection between them—wasn’t something he could ignore. There was something there, something he couldn’t quite name, but it was undeniable.

“You’re stronger than you think,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Namjoon nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat. “I think I’m starting to believe that,” he murmured.

She gave him a look that was both challenging and encouraging, her eyes locking with his for a moment that felt like eternity. And in that moment, he knew—he wasn’t just growing stronger as a soldier. He was growing stronger because of her.

Strength in the Ranks (Post-Enlistment)

The day had finally come. Namjoon had completed his military enlistment. The long months of rigorous training, sweat, and exhaustion had come to an end, and he was officially a civilian again. He stood at the gates of the military base, watching as the other recruits began to make their way home. There was a sense of relief in the air, but also a deep, lingering sadness that Namjoon couldn't shake.

He had made it. He had survived. But it was more than that—he had grown. He had learned what true strength was, and he owed so much of that to her. The woman who had been there every step of the way, pushing him when he couldn’t push himself, guiding him when he was lost. And now, as he stood there, watching the gates open before him, he realized something he hadn’t expected: he didn’t want to leave her behind.

The thought of never seeing her again was enough to make his chest ache. It wasn’t just the mentorship or the training—though that had been important. It was something deeper. His feelings for her had grown over the course of those months, though he had kept them hidden beneath a facade of respect and camaraderie. But now that he was leaving, he couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

He missed her already.

For the next few weeks, Namjoon adjusted to his life as a civilian again, but the sense of emptiness never fully left him. He would go out with his friends, try to keep busy, but his thoughts often wandered back to her. Her steady gaze, her leadership, the way her voice had always been the perfect balance of command and care. He hadn’t realized just how much he had come to rely on her presence until it was gone.

One evening, as Namjoon sat in his apartment, feeling the weight of his solitude, an idea began to form in his mind. He missed her. And though he wasn’t sure if she would even want to see him, he couldn’t shake the urge to at least try. So, he did something impulsive.

He went to the local restaurant, the one she always mentioned during training, the one she loved for its comforting dishes. He picked up a few of her favorite meals, just to bring them to her. He figured flowers were too cliché—she had never been the type to get swept up in romance or flowers. No, she would appreciate food, something practical, something she could enjoy.

Namjoon didn’t expect much. He didn’t know what he was hoping for—maybe just a smile, a moment to say thank you. But most of all, he just wanted to see her again.

When he arrived at the military base, he hesitated at the gates. The familiar surroundings, the old barracks, the drills—everything felt so far behind him now. Yet, here he was, standing with a bag of food in his hands like some kind of silly admirer.

He finally walked to the familiar barracks where she had stayed, the ones with the quiet hallway and the faint smell of training gear lingering in the air. He knocked softly on her door.

It took a moment, but the door creaked open. When she saw him, there was a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but quickly replaced by a warm smile. "Namjoon?" she asked, her voice friendly but curious. "What are you doing here?"

He held up the bag of food, smiling sheepishly. "I, uh... I thought you might like something to eat. It’s your favorite from the restaurant down the road. I didn’t know what to bring you, so... I figured this would work."

Her eyes softened, and she stepped back, gesturing for him to come in. “That’s very sweet of you,” she said, her tone warm and genuine. “I didn’t expect a visit from you, but I’m glad you came.”

As they sat down together, sharing the food, Namjoon couldn’t help but notice the way she laughed, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about the old days at the base. It was so easy to be around her, like nothing had changed.

But deep down, his heart was growing heavier. There was something he hadn’t expected in this simple reunion: the realization that his feelings for her had grown stronger over time. They were no longer just admiration or respect. They were deeper—more personal.

But what he didn’t know was that she still saw him as nothing more than a friend.

A few days later, Namjoon found himself back at the military base, walking through the familiar halls, still reflecting on his visit with her. He didn’t know what he was expecting to find, but he felt this lingering desire to see her again, to hear her voice and laugh.

As he passed a corner, he overheard voices from a nearby room. One of them was hers. He paused, his hand on the doorframe, unsure if he should continue listening. But something in him made him stay, drawn to the conversation unfolding behind the door.

“She said yes,” the voice on the other side of the door said. It was a male voice, deep and familiar. Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat. “We’re getting married. I can’t wait to start our life together.”

Namjoon’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak.

But then her voice followed, calm and steady. “I’m glad. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

The words were like a punch to his gut, the air in his lungs completely disappearing. She was engaged. She was already planning a future with someone else.

It wasn’t just a blow to his heart—it was a revelation he hadn’t prepared for. For all the moments they had shared, for all the time he had spent thinking about her, there was someone else in her life. Someone she had chosen. Someone who would get to stand by her side, someone who would be there in a way he never could.

Namjoon turned slowly, his heart heavy with the weight of what he had just overheard. It wasn’t anger or jealousy, but a deep sadness. He had known, on some level, that this might happen. But hearing it out loud felt like a final blow.

He walked away quietly, the bag of food he had brought now feeling useless in his hands. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to face her the same way again. His feelings had been laid bare in that moment, and now, he had to let them go.

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Hey Blubs, hehe I didn't mean to hurt joonie🥲

-Bluelle💙🩵

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