#earthquake proofing

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This is interesting. It's The Earthquake House, a 1990 earthquake-safe construction via revolutionary, (at the time), technology that makes it resistant to seismic tremors. It's a landmark in Los Angeles, California. Looks like a factory, doesn't it? 3bds, 3.5ba, $2.8M.

The floor plan is easy to adapt to multiple uses, and can be a home/business, or just a business and even a restaurant. It was architect, artist & educator David Ming Li Lowe's own home.

Note the springs so it can absorb impact. I bet those cement stairs would crack during a strong quake, though.

Closeup of the springs. Looks like the cement has cracked already.

Here's the living room when it was featured in a magazine article.

The house is empty, so it's hard to figure out, but here's a door that looks like it's an entrance by the garage.

You can see the steel going to the corners of the wall. I wonder why he used glass, though. Maybe it's shatterproof.

He used a lot of steel. Look at the rods in the wood beamed ceiling.

Industrial style kitchen.

This looks like a primary bedroom.

Most of the rooms look alike with the yellow crisscross support beams on every wall.

One of the baths.

This looks like another bedroom and bath. Look at the flexible hose attached to the sink. There must be a reason for the deep pitches in the ceilings.

It was part workspace and part residence, so this looks like it may have been the office space.

Unless it's a bedroom, b/c it has a laundry closet.

Looking down from the top floor. It's 3 levels high.

This bath has some nice built-in cabinetry. Now, this sink has a regular pipe coming down, not a flexible hose. Are those light bulbs coming out of the ceiling?

I think that this is an entrance gate to the driveway and garage.

2 car garage has an industrial door.

This just looks like a little, non-earthquake-proof covered patio in the yard.

[ohello0]

What are Boeing putting their planes together with?? Rubber bands and peanut butter? Hopes and dreams? Hot glue and masking tape?

Not sure what to do with myself knowing they spent time and resources assassinating a whistleblower instead of just like,,,, fixing their planes

[whilomm]

watched a video on nuclear fusion experiments and wondering "oh how does it generate the electrici-" its just fucking steam again its always fucking steam. everything is fucking steam. fuck this

[queerasian]

living in the pacific northwest is so weird because you just randomly get hit with the panic that a history defining catastrophic earthquake can and will devastate your region at any given moment but you just have to get on with your day

[abimee]

to this day i have to live in the same town as a gamzee makara puzzle piece hung up on 3rd? street i believe and i am begging anybody with any leads who may know who did this. from what i gathered its probably been up there well since the trolls were introduced in homestuck and nobody knows who made it, but the art style is very familiar to me.

he lives in eureka, california and i want to crack the mystery of his existence so bad that im basically tempted to go into the store and ask about this mural. please. this freak haunts me when i go to the docks

[cyberhobi]

it’s 3 am and im sobbing thinking of everyone affected by the earthquakes. A lot of my friends’ families are still under the rubble or have passed away and it’s just so horrible like this situation is so scary and imagine how worse it must be for children or for ppl who have a disability. Experts are predicting a >7 magnitute earthquake that could kill 100.000 people in Istanbul. With the way Istanbul is build, it will be a mass grave

[longlistshort]

The above image is of Jessie Homer French’s  Mapestry California 2012, 2012 (fabric, thread, fabric paint, and pen), which was on view in 2018 at Palm Springs Art Museum.

From the museum about the work-

This work is from a series of “mapestries” that the artist made between 2012-2017. These textile works graphically map out natural elements and forces in California, from prominent flora and fauna, natural monuments and mountain ranges, as well as hidden fault lines that spur the earthquakes that constantly threaten the region and its inhabitants. The work reflects the artist’s hyperawareness of the environment around her. Their flat, graphic qualities are similar in form to the artist’s paintings. The mapestries were made specifically for Californians, as artworks that could do no harm hanging over one’s bed in case of an earthquake.

One of her paintings is currently part of the benefit exhibition Art for a Safe and Healthy California at Gagosian Beverly Hills. The exhibition, presented by Jane Fonda, along with the gallery, is raising money to protect communities from toxic oil drilling.

[aparchitecture]

From Firm's Website:

Celebrated French fashion house Hermès commissioned Renzo Piano to design a building for their Japanese headquarters in 1998. Its location at the heart of Tokyo’s densely built, neon-lit Ginza shopping district, and the stringent building regulations regarding earthquakes and fire, have influenced a compact and unique building with a distinctive glass façade. The building contains a shop, offices, an exhibition space and access to the underground station below Harumi Avenue.

The slim building, only 10m wide on its Harumi Avenue frontage, runs back 56m along a quiet side street, and rises 10 storeys high. It has a unique glass façade made of 13,000 bespoke, 450mm-square glass blocks (with special smaller, curved glass bricks at the building’s corners). Much larger than standard glass blocks, these were especially made by Vetroarredo in Florence, Italy and had to meet stringent fire and earthquake regulations. Their stamped textured glass finish means they are translucent rather than transparent, the overall effect of the facade being somewhat like a contemporary version of the traditional Japanese screen.

Hung from the structure on steel arms, the glass block facade is designed to act like a curtain in the event of an earthquake, allowing it to move via the flexible seals between the blocks by as much as 4mm, absorbing rather than resisting seismic shock.

This translucent membrane is unchanging as it screens the office floors and upper levels of the shop, wrapping the building all the way down to the ground. Only at ground floor level, along the longer side-street elevation do you find the occasional clear glass brick framing a precious display of Hermès products. The tiny Harumi Avenue frontage is the sole place on the building for more conventional, full-height shop display windows.

Inside, the shop extends over four floors from ground floor to 3rd floor, with ateliers and offices above, and a double-height exhibition space on the 7th floor. A planted courtyard garden open to the sky tops the building but remains screened from the street by the glass block facade.

Services and circulation are housed at the back edge of the building in an opaque strip along the party wall. The glass facade stops short of this with a curved edge, revealing the escape stair and helping to define the edge of the building.

By day, the facade is silvered and sparkling; by night it glows warm like a lantern, a distinctive presence in the crowded shopping district.

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Proof Is In The Word

“The liberal person shall be enriched, and he who waters shall himself be watered.” Proverbs 11:25AMPC

In my lifetime, I have never seen so many needs, tragedies, losses, sicknesses, incurable diseases, unexpected deaths, hurricanes, and earthquakes. Hands are out in the semi-rich and poor quarters, everywhere. Needs are great. Needs are real.

The earthquake in Turkey and Syria brought tears to my eyes. Devastation of the hurricanes causes me to cry. Children caught in trafficking caused me to sob. Poverty overseas and children living on the streets, tears flow. People in our churches and families are losing their homes, can’t pay their payments; have lost their jobs. Needs are great. Huge.

Ministries we are involved with have needs to complete their callings. All preachers talk about planting seeds— money— in ‘good soil.’ Whose soil is good and whose soil is bad? This takes a lot of discernment.

We’re instructed by God to sow seeds. In Proverbs 11 we have a total of five verses: V17 “The merciful, kind, and generous man benefits himself [for his deeds return to bless him]…” V18 “The wicked man earns deceitful wages, but he who sows righteousness (moral and spiritual rectitude in every area and relation) shall have a sure reward [permanent and satisfying].” V24 “There are those who [generously] scatter abroad, and yet increase more; there are those who withhold more than is fitting or what is justly due, but it results only in want.” V31 “Behold, the [uncompromisingly] righteous shall be recompensed on earth…”

Read Proverbs 3:9-10AMPC “Honor the Lord with your capital and sufficiency [from righteous labors] and with the firstfruits of all your income; So shall your storage places be filled with plenty, and your vats shall be overflowing with new wine.” Proverbs 19:17ESV “Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the Lord, and He will repay him for his deed” Proverbs 22:9BSB “A generous man will be blessed, for he shares his bread with the poor.” Proverbs 28:27ESV “Whoever gives to the poor will not want, but he who hides his eyes will get many a curse.”

The prophet said in Isaiah 58:10NLT “Feed the hungry, and help those in trouble. Then your light will shine out from the darkness, and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon.”

Jesus discussed giving in Luke 6:38NKJV “Give, and it will be given to you: good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom. For with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you.”

Proof is in the Word. God is generous, especially when we’re generous to others. I’ve been examining the Word of God thoroughly and found God doesn’t lift up or help stingy people.

There’s a preacher whom Lou and I like very well, he says— ‘Everything in your house is a seed. Don’t be afraid to plant any seed God prompts you to plant anywhere He tells you to plant it.’ Maybe someone needs towels— towels become seeds, plant those towels in that need. It’s not always money we need give. Jesus said in Matthew 25-35ESV “For I was hungry and you gave Me food, I was thirsty and you gave Me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed Me,”

Needs are great in each Believer’s pocketbook. Can our deficits be because we are more concerned with our needs instead of the needs of others? God’s allowing many occasions for us to help others and get blessed by a generous God. Will we become the “liberal person” watering others that we ourselves will “be watered.” It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: LORD God I ask You open our understanding to Your way of finances. Change and deepen each of us in our lives of generosity, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2023 You have my permission to reblogpost this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.

[micallefkostas]

Design patterns for seismic-resistance in high rise buildings and multi storey apartments.. But, what can be applied to the old foundations of Corfu town's old structures, to prevent collapse and hazardous consequences?

[chrispleasure]

CANT SLEEP, c.s

summary!: chris cant sleep without apologising to his girlfriend, afraid it might be her last night.

not proof read!

the air became heated, you didnt want to shower with chris, which caused him to yell at you. “what! are you afraid of seeing a dick or something?!” he yells, stepping out of the bathroom.

he didnt want to argue, but he felt hurt that you wanted to be alone and not with him. “its not that— im not afraid. i just want some peace.” you stood by the doorway, watching as he undressed himself.

chris took a few blankets and one of his pillows and left the room, carrying the argument further. you decided now was the best time to have your shower, knowing he wont bother you.

as the water become heated, you undressed and stepped under the square shower head. soft hums escaped your lips, “hmm..” you mumbled, leaning back.

the bathroom lights werent on either, which spiked your mood to feel more flirty and sexy. your hand traveled near your wet pussy, hesitant to touch yourself.

you decided against and brought your hand back to your chest, crossing your arms and letting the water take over.

downstairs, chris lies down on the couch cuddled up in his blankets and pillow. silently hoping you would come down stairs and apologize.

it was stupid, you werent the one who needed to apologise. he did. but he was too immature to be the bigger person.

small tears escaped his eyes and went onto the white pillow, he sunk deep intonthe couch. chris wanted a hug, a gesture of love.

he didnt mean to act out like this, part of him was still angry for yelling at you like he did. little did he know he was the last thing on your mind.

you were near the end of your playlist on spotify, the song ending. which meant it was time to get out of the shower and apologise.

which you dreaded, not wanting to see his pretty face. the tears which were most likely streaming down his cheeks.

as you stumble out of the shower, you slip and hit your head on the counter. “fuck!” you wince, letting out a small sob as you sit up.

you instinctively cover the corner of your head with your hand, causing blood to drip down onto it. “mmph- shit, shit..” you sob, rocking back and forth.

you wanted chris’s comfort instantly, but he wouldnt give it too you, you did definitely say some hurtful things too and about him.

after a few minutes of crying, you pull yourself off the ground, getting used to the feeling of your head feeling as if it’s about to fall off.

you scurry and put on the pajamas you left on the counter, stumbling to the bedroom. you didnt even bother going downstairs to say goodnight.

immediately, without a thought, you get under the blankets. moving your body to adjust to the feeling of the sheets.

it feels like heaven, closing your eyes and relaxing. part of you wanted chris cuddling into you, speaking reasurring words into your ear, touching around your breasts to calm you down. but he was all the way downstairs, probably pissed off.

as your thoughts drifted to random things, you fell asleep quickly. your body relaxing in a comfortable position.

but chris on the other hand, couldnt shut an eye. he stayed on the same couch for hours, hungry for cuddles or even a kiss.

he tried, tried and tried, but nothing. just black, no dream, nothing. he couldnt sleep angry with you, or you angry at him.

he sat up, grabbing his pillow. he walked upstairs, tears wet on his face. he was shaking and sobbing quietly.

a few quiet knocks were heard. when he got no response, he decided to walk in. after all, it was also his room.

he walks in, walking to his side of his bed. “baby? you ‘wake?” he asks, his side of the bed sinking a little as he layed down.

you slept peacefully, not hearing anything he was saying or asking. he shook you, moving closer for comfort. “ma, wake up..” he sniffles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

without question, you woke up, thinking their was an earthquake. you looked to your left, seeing chris’s figure shaking you.

once he saw you were awake, he stopped. looking at you with a frown. “what do you want, chris?” you asked tiredly, resting your head on the pillow.

“im sorry for getting angry.. i just wanted a shower with you, i feel a need to always be close to you at all times.” he apologised, cuddling close to you.

a soft smile played on your lips, feeling happy he apologised. “i also jus’ couldnt sleep without saying sorry. you couldve died in your sleep.” he says in a worried tone.

you chuckled, turning to face him fully. “hey, hey.. im okay. im healthy enough that i wont die for a while.” you rub his cheek, met with the now dried tears that stayed there.

“you cried?” you asked, frowning a little. he nods, putting his hand on your wrist. “can we just cuddle and sleep? i need comfort.” he whines, moving closer.

your body pressed against his, pressing a kiss against his neck a few times before drifting off. “i love you.” you say.

the end!!

[godjo]

✮ — warrior’s executioner. 

you’re an earthquake that rocks his steady rhythm. 

tags — zoro x afab!reader. 1.3k wc. soft -> rough, like really, dappled with a lot of prose (i hope they make sense tbh). huge cock!zoro. creampie. a LOT of cum, sue me. cervix fucking. very explicit smut. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni.

from hunter — i… don’t know. i felt so, so, soft for zoro in this fine afternoon. this fic made me vulnerable lmao. this is hardly proofread btw. ✮

imbued with an ache for glory since the sprout of his childhood, the way of the warrior lives in zoro’s skin and bones like a malignant disease of no existing palliative. he inhales the roughened edges of a samurai’s principle like air his lungs need to survive. these beliefs are claws of death that have grazed him one too many times, yet he wears the thousand cuts with pride. 

they whisper about him across the four seas: the devil wearing a human’s flesh, they say, siphoning his unyielding strength from the depths of hell. enemies see his swords like the embodiment of death, the extended hands of sharp torment, while allies revere his strength. 

his hands are tainted with blood from hard won victories. and zoro has never even thought of cleaning the proof of endless wars snaking along the lines of his palms until he’s met you. 

“are you sure you want this?” zoro asks for what seems like the third time, and for each you answer him with a feathery chuckle. “i don’t want to hurt you.” 

“you won’t hurt me, zoro.” there’s a spark of assurance in your eyes, fueled by conviction that it would take more than his tenacity to inflict pain upon you. 

zoro admires you for it; he desires you for that inelastic poise. and so he moistens his lips, guiding the raw end of his cock through your supple pussy lips. he’s been leaking like crazy, transparent lines of precum smeared all over your bare stomach where his rigid cock had been resting.

he palms his girth as if to soothe the stiffness; he’s unimaginably hard, pulsing with fierce vivacity. tremors rack zoro’s body, not on the account of anxiety, such is a distant feeling, but because of how much he wants to shove his thick cock right into your pussy, fuck you until your insides crumble.

“spread your legs wider for me,” he whispers, breath catching up in his throat when he feels the wet caress of your slabbering cunt around his flushed cocktip. 

you share a shuddering breath when he sheathes himself to the hilt, closing his good eye in concentration, in savoring the gummy embrace of your pussy around his twitching shaft. all the might and the brawn he’s built for years now melts into a thick puddle underneath his wavering feet. 

you’re an earthquake that rocks his steady rhythm. 

hovering above you, cautious as to not crush your ribcage with the weight of his immeasurable desire and wanton lust, zoro moves with calculated tempo. he pitches his head right below your chin, staggering breath fanning the crater between your collarbones. seconds— a dribble of a moment within which he loses his composure— that’s all it has taken for his gruff hand to cage the tender flesh of your waist and pull you with snapping vitality, therefore burying his hungry cock further in your insides. 

with an obscene yelp, you toss your head back. your weakened frame finds its leverage on zoro’s broad shoulders, leaving wild stripes of crimson on his golden skin with your nails. you can feel the ridges of his girth, the angry veins scraping your cunt repeatedly, making the little wet hole swell. 

“i’m sorry,” zoro confesses softly against your heated cheeks. “did i hurt you?”

you wish you can pour your heart out and say no, he’s not hurting you and he never will. tears grace the corner of your eyes, from the fluttering emotions hugging your belly, and you can only shake your head. at last, your hands find the curve of his flushed cheeks. he looks feverish, pushed into perpetual agony and terror of breaking you. like you’ve never done before, you tug him by the face and seal his lips with a kiss that quickly forms a whorl of saliva inside your mouths. you never let him go. 

zoro’s heart will burst, he swears it will. the unspoken consent triggers his primal need, the animalistic urge of wanting to prove how you drive him to the edge of insanity.

he pounds your pussy like a mad man freed from restraints. he folds your knees to fuck you properly while watching your cunt swallow his needy cock to the base. there are strings of transparent liquid connecting your pussy to his shaft, augmenting the smacking sound whenever he brings his weight down your soiled cervix. hungrily, repeatedly, mercilessly. 

“z… zoro!” your unabating and quivered chant injected with pleasure. “more… i need you— want you.”

need. 

his eye dilates as the word flows inside his system. he slides his upper body down to meet yours, a breathless yet fervent chuckle rising from his throat. zoro has been maiming your cervix with his insatiable cock for what seems like forever now. he’s been fucking you so maniacally that his bladder shudders and your pussy has turned a damped mess under his vigorous thrusts. all this is accompanied with brutal strength. 

instead of cowering away, you tell him to sink in you deeper. 

you, who emit the air of lavender blossoms and speak with honey in your mouth. you, whose featherlight touch whispers life into every withered thing. you, who keep a universe of all things soft and kind and gentle locked inside your velvet chest. 

“you’re perfect,” zoro murmurs against your mouth, pinning his cock one more time to your slabbering cunt. “and you’re mine.”

your belly heats up from the fervid claim. rapture, its pleasurable hand reaching for you, as zoro’s movements become deliberately slow. his spine moves like waves, the roll of his hips jittery yet deep. you feel it all at once when he pops your hardened nipple in his mouth. zoro suckles, salivating around the areola while maintaining his slow pace.

the heat picks up its intensity, along with the furiously lewd moan gaining strength and fleeing your lips. caged in a bubble of sensitivity that will burst at the seams with an airy touch, you clamp a hand over your mouth but zoro takes your wrist to pin beside your head. his final savage thrust sends rolling waves of euphoria squeezing your chest until the only way you can breathe again is to shout his name with a piece of your soul attached in it. 

zoro tattoos your expression in a huge part of his memory; the narrow of your brows, how your pretty lips shape his name, and the tears of release like silver satin adorning your eyes. with that image he buries his cock between your velvety walls, down and down until his cocktip meets your cervix again, and there— bouts of thick cum burst in your uterus. 

he screams your name, placing his life and his love between its syllables. you touch his face, soothing his shivers, but he just won’t stop filling your womb with fresh and viscid cum like he’s not busted a fat nut in a hundred years. zoro’s eye teared up at the sensation. 

“i… i can’t stop. fuck— it’s seeping. fuck, fuck—”

you lock your legs around his hips. “let it all out.”

zoro admits defeat and collapses on top of you. his cock continues to plug your pussy with blobs of cum. he withers beside you, then, and finally pulls out achingly. even without the grip of your cunt his swollen tip lazily oozes all over the sheets. 

“how are you feeling?” he tucks you in, securing your body with the warmth of his. 

“definitely sore,” you breathe, tracing the mark of stitches on his chest with a delicate finger. “but happy. how about you?”

he ponders at the question. how does he feel, truly? once, he wondered if his tenacity is just another word for wickedness and if shedding blood is the only purpose his unmatched strength serves. he pondered about the hunger he’s shackled in his core and whether it could only be satiated as he felled each enemy with a sword. 

zoro fears that he’ll never learn how to hold you close to his heart without tarnishing the perpetual twinkle of light in your luminescent eyes. but then he kisses you, and you do not flinch from its violence. 

zoro has found the answer, then. 

how could he ever hurt you when you make him tender?

how could he ever hurt you when you turn him to pieces?

[janovavalen]

Hi can you write a Percy Jackson x fem reader

The reader and Percy do not get along it’s like a love hate relationship.During episode 4 Percy sacrificing himself at St Luis arch the reader breaks down the door and sees him fall.she then jumps after him.When they get out the river they both have an argument about the whole incident.which leads to the reader admitting she cares about him.Happy ending pls.

an: OMG STOP STOP BC I ACTUALLY ACTIVELY SCREAMED AT THIS REQUEST ANONNNNN STOOOOP I LOVE THIS SM IM ABOUT TO WRITE IT RNNNNNRNRNRNRN

✧RECKLESS || percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: as the group go to their next destination they arrive at the arch, annabeth and y/n’s mom’s sanctuary for some time. just when they think they’re safe, things don’t go to plan.

word count: FUCKIN 5878 NO BC IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR THREE HOURSSSSS AHH

warnings: y/n and percy being in a enemies or lovers trope, annabeth and grover being third and fourth wheelers, arguing, near death experiences, slight blood warnings, poisoned percy, a bit of crying? LIKE A TINY BIT, y/n is very argumentative.

as the group made their way to the st. louis arch, they weren’t doing very good. at all.

on their way, the original plan was to get straight to las vegas, but thanks to the monsters and not wanting to take a break, their train got ruined by the mother of monsters.

as they walked into the front entrance of the arch that annabeth and y/n recommended. they had stated that monsters can’t get in and it will give them more time to find some way to get to las vegas a lot quicker than on foot.

‘six-hundred and thirty feet wide’ annabeth started—‘six-hundred and thirty feet tall, both two within an inch’

as they four of them walked fast enough to cause an old lady whiplash, percy and grover listened to the two of them explain their mothers sanctuary.

‘it’s got no internal support. each side is balanced perfectly against one another’ y/n states once more as annabeth nodded along with what she said.

‘the arch is held up by symmetry, it’s held up by math!’ annabeth expressed.

‘oh and it’s earthquake proof’ y/n added to annabeth’s comment, giving annabeth a small glance before they walked down the steps of the entrance into the small museum full of kids on a field trip.

‘it’s also high enough so poseidon can’t ruin it…but i don’t think mom would appreciate his child being in here, so.’ y/n looked over to percy who gave her a tight thin lipped smile before mumbling.

‘nice…’ annabeth and percy looked at the two before giving each other a look to soon squeeze themselves through the group kids.

‘excuse me’ annabeth mumbled to the boys and girls who turned and moved out of the way for the four.

‘this is how you show athena your love, a monument to the power of perfection’ annabeth told.

‘it’s a monument to some other stuff too’ grover added as they looked around and saw other things regarding more olden times, guns, head skeletons of buffalo and other things.

‘your talking about what some humans want this place to be about. we’re talking about what it actually is’ annabeth placed her hand over her own chest while looking at percy and grover who frowned but agreed nonetheless.

y/n rolled her eyes when she saw the amount of ‘skeletons’ and other things that litterd the walls and glass casing all around them. the people seeming to be pleased enough at what they saw to take a picture.

‘it’s sad to know they don’t know what it really means. very pathetic really.’ y/n mumbled to herself as she turned to annabeth. percy looked over at her and blinked before widening his eyes and choosing not to say anything about what she said.

‘whatever…we’re safe here, right?’ grover made sure to comprehend as they walked.

‘no monsters can enter…not even echidna’ y/n reassured grover who nodded nervously.

‘we’re safe’ annabeth added on.

‘great…well since our train exploded! i’m going to see if there’s another one we can get tickets on. we can’t stay here forever.’ grover looked over at the huge plastered picture of buffalo being attacked and hunted by hunters.

looking overly slowly at the three he said once more—‘just because we’re prey doesn’t mean we need to be helpless.’ turning around to leave, annabeth nervously cleared her throat and walked up to him.

‘wait! i’m going to go with you. you two wait here, don’t leave and don’t move’ annabeth ordered y/n and percy who frowned their eyebrows.

‘where would we go?’ y/n asked her with a raised eyebrow. annabeth rolled her eyes and caught up to grover who walked rather fast.

as the two of y/n and percy watched annabeth and grover walk away, percy decided now would probably be a good time to start a bit of conversation to stop the awkward silence.

‘he doesn't like it when people mess with animals,’ he added.

y/n didn’t both turn to his side but acknowledged his voice—‘yeah. i know.’

percy turned to y/n who kept her eyes focused on annabeth and grover even though they were long past the barrier of her eyesight.

‘…why are you so quiet?’ percy mumbled, his eyes looking over y/n’s frame that was unmoving from her standing position.

‘why does it matter?’ y/n turned to his presence now. seeing he was a bit away from here

‘it doesn't it’s just…you know…kind of awkward?’ percy nervously mumbled.

sighing percy didn’t want to really give up on the conversation knowing it would probably be best. the last thing he needed and had the time for was for y/n to snap at him, but it was worth the shot.

‘so, this is your moms place?’

y/n kept quiet and turned her eyes and head another direction from percy who kept speaking. clearing his throat he spoke—

‘be right down just going to the potty’ he said in a girly squeaky voice. this gained y/n’s attention.

as childish and stupid as it was, it was definitely an uplift from the previous mood. she lightly grinned but turned her head.

‘listen…me and you don’t get along and we both know that—‘

‘is it that obvious?’

‘shut up and listen okay?’ y/n sighed as percy nodded shamefully and let her continue .

‘i know you said it all in me and annabeth’s head…mostly mine? that i tell myself that our mother cares because it’s easier that way.’

percy let his eyebrows frown once more as he shook his head—‘i didn’t say that?’ he looked at y/n who turned her head to him and gave him a small look of which spoke—‘really?’

he shrugged it off and continued to talk—‘look ive been a demigod since…’ looking off to the side to calculate he finally came with an answer—‘last saturday. you shouldn’t listen to me.’ he told her as y/n let what he said soak in.

looking off to the side a bit she came up with some idea—plan for him to take, an offer.

‘you know, this is my mothers place. but…a temple is a temple. maybe you can say hi to your dad while your here?’ she explained.

percy seemed to almost take up her offer but quickly denied it. not wanting to really contact poseidon at the moment.

‘no thanks.’ he quickly shrugged off. this came undeniably confusing to y/n.

‘what could it hurt?’ she genuinely wanted her answer but he still shook his head.

‘your think with your mother…i get it, it’s different, it works for you. but my father…i don’t want anything from him. he had his chances—honestly you’ve done more for me in the past free days than my fathers done my entire life. if i have to stick with someone i—‘

trailing off as he caught himself y/n seemed to catch his slight slip up and tilted her head to the side a bit. her eyes looking him up and down before she smirked a bit—‘careful..i think you were about to call me a friend.’

before the beginning of the quest. before all of this. they had claimed in stone, they were and would never see themselves as friends. nothing more nothing less: the two of them simply didn’t see eye to eye. their priorities were set on two different things, and they both knew that.

but, things seemed to have change a bit on one end, and a lot on the other.

percy slightly looked down at the floor below as y/n turned her own head away from his.

‘somewhere around here the Oracle is laughing at us but you know—‘

as she said this percy seemed to feel insanely dizzy and instantly fell to the floor, y/n being there to catch him—‘whoa! percy? what’s going on?’ she asked him, being careful not to bombard him with too many questions given the fact he just fell out.

her arms being slightly wrapped around his shoulders he held onto her as he let her slowly let go of him. percy slightly sat down onto the floor as he caught his balance.

‘hey! what happened?’ grover and annabeth came running immediately when they saw him fall.

‘i think…i think those stinger things were poisonous…’ percy breathed heavily, his breath seeming to shorten on supply.

y/n looked around and it seemed to click for both the athena children—‘i have an idea’ the both of them claimed.

as the two of them grabbed up on percy they found themself in the water that sat in front of the museum. with percy sitting down into it, the other three stood as they scooped and splashed percy from the head down with water.

he sat there and took it as they kept going scoop from scoop, hoping something would happen.

passers walked by and some stood to watch what they were doing and they their were kids sitting in the fountain but none took it upon themselves to stop it.

‘the water cured him back at camp! it should work with poison too!’ y/n found herself quickening her scoops of water while annabeth looked momentarily at her sister who wore a very worried expression.

if anything, she’s never seen her this worried. not for a while. not for percy.

‘you know—i think, i think this is working’ percy grabbed onto y/n’s hand who helped him stand—‘this was a great call’ he acknowledged their idea but only to end up stumbling back down into the water with even more dizziness.

‘or not.’ he breathed out.

‘maybe it needs to be naturally running water for Poseidon to heal him?’ y/n mumbled while she placed her hand comfortingly over percy’s shoulder.

grover looked to annabeth who went to speak but just then they heard crashing and sirens going down just ahead of them. they all went to look and seen a police car being flipped into another car.

‘we need to get back inside!’ annabeth went to pick up percy along with grover but y/n was quick to deny.

‘no we need to keep trying!’

‘ this isn’t working y/n—and she’s coming!’ grover sadly looked at y/n who stressed her expression of worry towards percy who looked up at her momentarily before the two of them looked ahead along with annabeth and grover to see echidna slowly strutting her way over to them with a grin.

y/n breathed out and quickly thought—‘okay look, we’ll take percy inside and we’ll go to the temples alter’ y/n went to pick up percy who grabbed onto her arm and hand as the other two helped to pick him up as well.

‘alter? where is there an alter?’ grover asked, frowning his eyebrows at the two.

‘the highest point—the best view!’

‘okay! but what good is that even going to do us?’ grover stressed once more.

y/n sighed and looked over to annabeth who looked at her and percy.

percy had his grip held tight on her as she equally had the same amount of strength being held onto him to secure him from falling.

‘we’re going to get to the top, and we’re going to ask our mom for help’ she breathed out. grover seemed to stop for a bit along with y/n who was nervous about this plan.

‘ask mom for help? annabeth are you insane?’

‘i thought we didn’t ask for help?’ percy put his two senses in making annabeth look over to him. seeing they didn’t have much time for anymore conversations, annabeth ushered the group to begin walking.

‘come on; we need to keep moving’ annabeth spoke in a hurry.

grover placed percy’s other arm over his shoulder to help balance out their walk and annabeth stayed to y/n’s side.

just as they began to walk and y/n with annabeth failed to walk a bit and happened to stumble behind. echidna began screeching to the two girl who turned and started—couldn’t help—but listen. their expressions becoming more flat, a bit worried.

percy took a heavy notice of y/n’s absence and turned to see mainly her with a saddened expression on her face.

why did she look like that? what was she seeing? what was she hearing? his thoughts raced. seeming to focus on her rather than himself being poisoned.

she let her eyes widen and she snapped out of some trance along with her sister who gripped her arm—‘guys? did you hear that?’ y/n looked over to annabeth who nodded immediately.

grover and percy however?

‘hear what?’ percy asked her with concern. grover shook his head and y/n looked at annabeth who sadly looked down.

‘come on—let’s keep walking—go help percy’ annabeth told y/n who jogged to percy’s side and grabbed only his arm once more.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as the group hurried their way around the people who were mindlessly talking with themselves—completely unaware of the danger that was happening for the demigod children. they kept turning around to make sure their backs were clear.

some people would momentarily look at the group who carried one boy who looked like he just seen a ghost as they had their wet clothes tracing the floor as they walked.

the four of them getting into the small sitting elevator, they sat down—‘what was that back there? what did you guys hear?’ he asked the two sisters, but his main eyes trained on y/n who didn’t say a word. annabeth doing the same , she found her pinky slowly reaching over to y/n’s.

she got the hint and fully placed her hand over annabeth’s. percy looked down at their hands and came with the conclusion.

‘she spoke to you two’ percy breathed. his body was cold, and wet. the poison doing nothing more and adding onto his weakness and cold body.

‘alecto did that with me. back in the museum back in new york’ he recalled. annabeth and y/n still not speaking a word, only looking down and blinking momentarily.

percy didn’t really want to admit but he was becoming concerned for y/n’s mind. what did she hear that was bad?

‘what did she say?’ he asked once more.

just then, annabeth looked up in a hurry and squeezed y/n’s hand who looked up as well—and there she was. echidna.

she stood over the small metal balcony with her moneyed baby right behind her.

just as the doors shut they saw the two horns. y/n let her eyes widen along with the rest of the group’s.

grover gulped but began to talk—‘was that the chimera?’ he looked over to y/n who place she head in her hands and held them their in stress—percy looking over with frowned eyebrows as his wet hair dripped into his eye.

‘i—i think that was the chimera!’ grover worryingly spoke. percy let his focus set on y/n who kept nervously looking anywhere but the group.

‘how did the chimera even get inside here? how did any monster get inside here—‘

‘y/n?’ percy breathed out, his worry building up on y/n who kept quiet. annabeth looked over at her sister who didn’t even look at her either.

‘we’re in a secretary, athena would have to let her in but why would she do that?’

‘y/n!’ percy called out to her once more. seeing her eye finally set up upon his own he hoped they could keep their eyes trained on one another.

‘what did echidna say to you?’ he asked—demanded and answer.

she worryingly looked back down before shaking her head a bit, biting on the inside of her cheek.

‘she said my impertinence ruined our mother pride. and that that, would be our doom.’ she looked angrily over at percy who shook his head.

‘impertinence? what kind of—‘ finally recalling. medusa’s head.

giving y/n the look of knowing she gave him a look as well as annabeth and grover watched them talk.

‘ medusa’s head.’ he nodded while y/n shook her head, a frown setting upon her features.

‘i embarrassed my mother…’

percy shook his head while trying to clear up his running thoughts—‘but—i’m the one who sent the head to olympus? i sighed the note—‘

‘and i went along with it! it embarrassed her…now she’s angry. because of your impertinence, and because i was dumb enough to go along with it, we won’t get any help, we won’t get an answer from her!’ y/n shouted to percy who shook his head.

‘y/n—‘

‘no! annabeth, he needs to understand this isn’t some game, this isn’t camp, we can seriously die out here, and he can’t just go around sending dead body parts to the gods just because?’ y/n stressed even more as percy nervously looked at y/n who avoided his eye contact once more.

‘guys…what are we going to do?’ grover broke the silence as they seemed to be near the top of the arch.

‘she isn't going to help us when we get to the top to have percy’ annabeth expressed to grover who cut her off—‘no i mean what are we going to do about echidna and chimera? they're going to be right being us,’ he exclaimed.

as the four of them looked at each other—percy hoping to catch y/n’s eyes but failed he looked down at the floor.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

‘we’re not going to have much time’ as the group let themselves out of the elevator, y/n getting out first to leave percy with grover and annabeth to help him out.

percy took a hard notice to this but tried to shrug us off—‘they’ll be up here any minute. and if our mother isn’t going to protect us, then we’ll just have to fight it out up here’ y/n finished as they walked up the short amount of stairs to the top.

once they did was when y/n lost her confidence for a second and saw a huge crowd talking among themselves with phones taking pictures and smiles on their faces.

and when percy, grover and annabeth were behind her, they saw the extent of trouble they were in.

‘oh no…we gotta get everybody out of here’ grover expressed with worry as he held onto percy.

percy looked to y/n who seemed to smile a bit with her idea.

running to the fire alarm she pulled it, setting off a loud beep that got everybody's attention.

as everyone slightly panicked and walked their way down the hall with the others, y/n placed her hand onto annabeth’s shoulder and ushers them along the hall.

‘you guys follow the group down the steps—‘

‘what?’ percy hurried to look at y/n who momentarily look at him then back at grover who spoke.

‘no, no—we—were not spitting up’ grover expressed.

‘grover come on!’

‘y/n i’m not leaving you here!’ annabeth spoke to her sister who gave her a sad look.

‘no… no no no no we’re all getting out of here together’ percy breathed out, hoping to get y/n’s attention. once he did he kept their eyes focused on one another.

‘we won’t make it! the chimera is a demigod killer! someone has to stay back to slow her down and buy everyone some time’ y/n walked with her hand on annabeth’s back while they walked to the steps with everyone going down in a hurry.

once they got to them, grover, annabeth and percy turned to y/n who stood at the door to make sure she shut it before they left.

‘okay—once you get downstairs you need get him to the river. and don’t stop. not till you get to hades. not till you have the bolt, do you understand?’ y/n looked at the three before looking at percy, he shook his head in denial.

‘y/n you can’t just stay here and say that and expect me to listen—‘

‘do what i say annabeth! just this once, okay?’ she pleaded. annabeth shook her head with a frown upon her lips, forever going the same.

‘okay go!’ she heard the footsteps of the two right behind and went to shut the door only for percy to speak.

not wanting to let her go he quickly came with a plan.

‘wait!—‘ taking the pen that formed into a sword out of his pocket he held it to y/n who looked at it.

flipping it around to make sure the handle would be in her touch, he held it out to her and spoke once more—‘take this’ he held out to her.

as she went to reach slowly, he waited for her grip to hold tightly onto it—only then did he switch sides, pushing her into the room and closing the door.

‘percy!’ y/n yelled out to percy who made sure the door was locked.

‘percy!?’ grover yelled. the three of them baging on the door as percy breathed heavily, his body weak and pale.

‘percy no! don’t do this! they’ll kill you!’ y/n yelled her voice becoming louder but more weak.

‘posiden never helped me before. he wasn’t gonna start now. i would’ve never made it to hades. but you can. and now you will.’ percy talked to them before he walked away from the foot. their banding never stopping.

‘percy! please?! you can’t do this!’ y/n cried out.

walking towards echidna and the chimera who walked their way to percy who’s eyesight blur more and more. causing him to stumble and his weakened grip on his sword.

‘this is the end sweetheart.’ echidna spoke softly, her motherly tone never wavered. ‘don’t fight it. you’ll only make her angry.’ she warned.

as the chimera walked over to percy he held his sword up higher with determination in his eyes. the chimera began to growl as she went to open her mouth, inside a small orange and red glow becoming prominent, percy swung his sword at the leg of the chimera, making it rawr out in anger and slight pain.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

behind the door y/n banged harder and harder, hoping somehow he would come back and change his mind.

annabeth couldn’t watch her sister be like this—hurt, confused, mainly disappointed. turning sound as she reached into her pocket to grab her own sword that extended, she let it change its form into a smaller pick pocket knife.

‘you two! go now, go to the bottom of the steps and wait outside, police are bound to show up, so stay with them and don’t move! i’ll meet you down there with percy!’ y/n demanded her sister and best friend who shook their head.

‘y/n please—‘

‘annabeth! listen to me! okay? i’ll be okay, i’ll see you guys down there, go!’ she pushed them slightly as they looked at y/n once more who nodded to the two, giving them a slight smile.

annabeth gave one back as she nodded and grabbed along of grover, the two of them making their way down the stairs.

as y/n turned around the let her knife be placed into the middle of the lock, letting it extend, it did just enough to to break the lock and break the metal of the door.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

pulling and pushing its paw up, she pushed percy far into the metal railing of the side of the wall, making him fall and yell out in pain. the chimera snarling at percy. as she walked over to percy once more he laid onto the floor with weak arms and body to see it open its mouth and their in the pit of her throat, fire. being bubbled and arousing through the back of her throat.

‘percy!’ y/n yelled. he turned around immediately to see y/n run towards him and pull him out of the way of the chimera’s fire that erupted through its throat and mouth, spreading and melting the floor below. y/n grabbed ahold of y/n as she pulled him away form the fire.

his grip holding onto her to make sure she was safe and unharmed, y/n quickly checked over percy as he nodded slightly.

in the distance, echidna raised her hand and flexed it towards the floor before them, a huge gaping hole being torn open into the carpet and metal floor. the wind from the highness of the arch blowing into the faces of y/n and percy who held each other.

the chimera roared loudly as y/n went to help percy stand up the two for them made their way over to the chimera with their swords in hand, y/n made her way in front of percy who noticed this and tired to quicken his pace so that he was in front of her.

swinging her sword the chimera dodged it and hit y/n so hard she passed out right onto the other side of the hole.

‘y/n! percy yelled—‘ soon percy tried his turn only to be hit with the chimera’s horns. throwing him back in the walk and down the gaping hole.

the chimera seeming pleased, it walked its way along with echidna to see percy still holding on.

‘y/n! wake up—‘ he grunted.

y/n paid along the side of the carpet ground with her head pounding.

‘so unfair. you never had a chance did you?’ echidna looked down at percy who was praying to whoever that y/n woke up right now.

‘if only someone cared enough about you to provide you with one’ she tilted her head as percy grunted and held onto the metal plate that was the only thing supporting him right now.

‘y/n?!’ he called out once more.

just afar, she grunted and let herself slowly wake up. just as she looked over and grabbed ahold of her sword. seeing echidna shake her head down into the hole she stumbled her way up, the blood on the head running down her eyebrow and down the side of her eye.

‘percy?’ she looked and saw he was nowhere to be found.

putting up all her strength, she stood up and hit echidna across the back of her head with her sword making echidna help out, the chimera turning around to her mother to her y/n had yelled out—

‘percy!’ she yelled seeing him reaching out to her as he fell, she took her jump and went right after him.

the two of them falling down further and further, y/n stretched her hand far enough for the two of them to be holding each other's hand.

as y/n felt herself lose consciousness once more from her injury, percy gripped her hand even tighter, and just as he turned a bit from the air around them, he saw a huge water thing, coming right towards them.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when percy came to. he was under the green water. the small fish and thing around him, he hurried his eyes and head to turn and see y/n not too far from him. her eyes still closed and her hair clouding around her.

swimming out and going to pull her up to the surface, percy felt himself and her go back down a bit—looking to see her foot caught and stuck around something that held her in place.

swimming down a bit to held her foot get unstuck he grunted and strained as the bubbles from his mouth started to flow and go up to the surface. pulling and pulling he suddenly saw something.

something glowing in the green water—‘you are frightened.’ it claimed.

blinking his eyes to see what it was he frowned, but kept pulling at y/n’s foot, his only priority was to get her out.

‘it’s alright percy. your father sent me to tell you, it’s alright.’ he paused a bit at this and looked over at the flowing glow.

‘just breath.’ she instructed. going to do so—he abruptly stopped and went back to pull at y/n’s foot. her head still bleeding and her body still unconscious.

‘your father is here, he’s always been here’ she continued to talk as percy pulled at y/n’s foot.

‘it’s so hard for him to stand back, to see you struggle. it is so hard for us all. but he’s here, and he’s so very proud. trust him. trust yourself. stopping his movements and looking over at the flowing glow, he held onto y/n’s leg who started to shake awake.

her eyes slowly opened and focused to see her and percy and somehow ended up into the water. she looked to see percy looking over at something, following his gaze she saw what he was seeing and frowned.

‘just breath.’ she told once more and when y/n turned down to percy, he breathed in and seemed to be breathing just fine under the water.

looking up at y/n he saw her holding her breath and went right back to pulling her foot with all his might, this time she was there to help. pulling up her foot, percy came with an idea, one that she definitely wouldn’t like.

going up to her, face to face, he placed his hand on her shoulder then soon her neck—if y/n couldn’t speak with her words, she definitely would with her expressions. with one that woke—‘what are you doing?’

he looked down with his eyes at her mouth and she immediately shook her head knowing exactly what he was implying. he looked at her and grabbed ahold of her cheek while she looked down to pull at her foot, her lungs burning and screaming for air.

percy gaining her attention, she blinked the water going in and out of her eyes and she held his eyes with her own. frowning she nodded her head slightly and let percy lean in under the water—his lips setting upon hers he breathed in his air to buy her more time. once they retracted, y/n and percy held eye contact before he kept his hand held on her own.

once he was down to her foot, he tugged as she pulled and soon she was free.

grabbing only y/n, the two of them hurried and swam to the top.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when they got to the surface, they swam to the concrete surface and pulled themselves along the metal rails. y/n got the helping hand of percy who pulled her with the two of his hands.

‘your okay, are you okay? your okay, right!?’ percy rushed to ask y/n who caught her breath and immediately reached up to touch the blood and wound that happened to close up.

looking at percy who half his hand on y/n’s arm and neck he checked her body and she took note of how he was healed as well.

‘percy! i’m okay…im okay’ she soothed him as he slowled his movements and looked into her eyes.

‘you jumped after me…you followed me down not knowing what would happen—‘

‘how could i not percy! how could i not? you are so careless, reckless and so selfish to think nobody would think of you and how you could have died! you left me— us, behind in the staircase to go off on our own and save your mom from the underworld!? how messed up is that percy! she would want to see her son! not two kids who she doesn’t know!’ y/n percy in his chest who stumbles back.

he looked nervously up at y/n trying to grab her hand only for her to slap it away—‘your selfish, greedy, reckless and so so stupid percy jackson! and i’m stupid enough…’ when he heard this he looked at her from the ground to see her slowly shaking her head at percy who looked up at her with hope.

‘i’m stupid enough to be the idiot one as well and jump after you. and i’m stupid enough to have cared so much. too much about you. percy…you can’t do things like that…not now, not even. not as long as i’m alive.’ she felt her eyes water a bit with the amount of worry he put her through when she was behind that door and out of his reach.

percy took note to this and hurried to grab her up and hug her tightly. she arms immediately finding their way around his body and his wrapped along her body as well. the two of them held each other so tightly they forgot about the world around them.

when they let go from the hug that seemed to have lasted forever, sorry nervously laughed. y/n looked confusingly at him with a small grin on her face.

‘so…what happened underwater—‘

‘don’t!’ y/n placed her hands over percy’s mouth who smiled at her as she shook her head in a hurry, her cheeks seeming to redden.

‘y/n!’

‘percy!’ two voices yelled from behind them. the two of them turned around to see grover and annabeth running to them.

‘annabeth!’ y/n happily yelled. as they embraced each other, percy hugged grover who hugged him tightly.

‘your safe’ annabeth breathed out’—but how—‘

‘doesn't matter! what matters…is that we’re together, safe.’ y/n smiled as she turned around to grover and percy. her eyes lingering on percy a bit more which seemed to not go unnoticed by grover and annabeth.

‘come on! we need to get moving’ annabeth held her hand along y/n’s back who walked with her.

as they walked, annabeth and y/n talked amongst themselves while grover and percy walked.

grover noticed how percy’s eyes never left y/n’s form and his focus never left her.

‘so..’ he started. percy let his eyes linger but his head turn to grover before his eyes focused on him.

‘what happened under water?’ grover finished making percy abruptly stopped, pulling grover with him laughed.

‘what—how do you—‘

‘my ears hear many things dude’ he smiled at percy whose face was grew redder by the second.

turning to see y/n and annabeth still walking and talking he turned to grover, turning him around so their backs were friend to the girls.

‘under the water…i found out i can breath. but y/n was stuck so…to give her more air— i had to share my air—‘

‘so you kissed?’ grover interrupted making percy grow red all over—‘don’t say it like that and don’t let her you know! she’ll kill me…she also. happened to tell me she actually cares about me, a lot’ percy smiled at the recalling of what she said.

‘so…she basically confessed she likes you?’ grover added once more. percy looked to the side as he nodded slowly.

‘dude!’

‘grover please! don’t tell her—‘

‘i won’t i won’t!’

percy nervously breathed out before letting go of grover who straightened his jacket.

as the two turned around to see the girl waiting but still taking, grover turned it percy and yelled with a smile—‘so y/n what happened!?’ he ran over to y/n making percy run after him

‘grover!’ percy yelled.

[anyataylorjoys]

taylor swift is her own boss she owns her own music production company and even if she was actually working under another company, no one would ever dare cut her loose cause they'd lose too much money in doing so but spinning back to the emphasis on the fact that she works under no one but herself that's how much money, power and influence she has and she hasn't spoken a peep about palestine. she could post a link in her bio on instagram and probably raise close to 2 million dollars in 3 days. I've seen the word "cowardly" thrown around a bunch, maybe she simply doesn't care, maybe she doesn't want the world to know that she does not stand for a ceasefire, maybe she thinks speaking will put her life in jeopardy and her entire PR team has advised her to never speak on it or she'll have to be carried around in a bejeweled bullet proof glass case for the next 5 years but if she's silent out of cowardice then she really must think her life is more important than 30 thousand lives maybe because she has 250m instagram followers. I can't imagine being holed up with my billions of dollars and wielding the kind of impact to generate the seismic activity of a 2.3 earthquake at a seattle concert but never speak on anything that matters. what a complete waste of mass scale influence.

[kimbapisnotsushi]

also i'm VERY impressed with how much suzume adapted modern technology to move the story along. everyone's synchronized earthquake alerts. the maps app to show just how far suzume went (and hence how far she was willing to go to follow her heart). following daijin through people's social media posts. suzume's one resource that allowed her to safely run away being her smartphone. it was all so clever and brilliant and it's the proof everyone needs that you CAN properly integrate modern tech with fantasy and magic so if i ever hear shit about it again i WILL be fighting people thank you that is all!!

[bloodcasket]

“ BLOOD BOIL ”

PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: NSFW! (Death Island Jill), age gap relationship (not as specified as my previous fic), female described reader, dominant Jill Valentine, submissive reader, manhandling, rough intimacy, mentioned use of strap-on toy, words used to describe toy such as “dick” - etc, hair tugging (ive tried my best not to specify hair texture), pinch of degrading, concept of power-play dynamic, jealousy & argumentative situations, use of “gaslighting”. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!

WORD COUNT: 6.4K+

DESCRIPTION: Jill’s jealousy is like spitting fire, just from one simple glance of a man speaking to you. Perhaps she’ll use her words against you. Force you on your knees to make you understand.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sigh. Not my best work, but here we are my friends. I acknowledge this is lackluster, but I missed writing for Jill, and so I at least want to do something for her. My apologizes! I will edit later if there are any mistakes. And hopefully, my brain will be ready to write again.

You’re invested thoroughly, thumbs bending into the hardened wheel, and your pink tongue wiggling in place, caught between your two front teeth, canines gnawing down amongst the moist muscle, all whilst you remain burrowed into a blanket of concentration.

So close, and nearly there. The banner sign is spread wide just up ahead, the crimson finish line taunting you, and the wheels of the vehicle skidded against the road, engine humming as the speed heightens. The countdown is in white bolded numbers in the upper right corner of the screen, approaching the last few seconds, there’s only a few more feet left-

That is, until an all-too-familiar ringing soon began to vibrate beside you. Perhaps it’s been the fourth time that she’s answered a phone call today. You couldn’t exactly give an explicit or precise answer, you had lost count a few hours back. Nonetheless, it drew your attention away all the same, hands loosening against your wheel.

“Gotta answer this, just give me a sec.”

A gruff response is heard from your right, and you watch from your peripheral vision as the other woman sits up from the false car seat. She trudges along the neon star-patterned carpet, her calloused thumb tapping with haste against the brightened screen of her phone as she sauntered over to the exit door. Clearly leaving no chance of objection from your side, too quick on her feet to even spare you a mere glance.

The car seat rumbles from below, the vibrations resembling a mini earthquake just against the flesh of your thighs, signaling your loss. Your softened eyes peer upwards and flicker toward the games’ screen. “Last place” taunts you in a pixelated format, the letters spinning around in repetitive loops. You had lost, and now the game was finished. The taste of triumph now blemished and dulled. An abhorrent sink of your heart weighs down in your rib cage, strong enough to plummet into your stomach.

You’re almost beginning to question whether this was all worth it or not. The plans, the date, the broken promises she always manages to cultivate off the tip of her tongue. You hadn’t forgotten the way the older woman’s rough hands circled your waist earlier this morning, pulling you close. Velvety lips tracing your cheekbone; leaving chaste kisses in its wake.

All about you, today. That’s what the middle-aged brunette had ensured. But ruined plans were practically habitual when it came to such a relationship with a woman of her degree. Ensnared in her work. Drowned in stacks of reports and hour long meetings. Body battered and aching by the time she’s finished training. It’s always “saving civilization” and “eradicating bioterrorism” first— and, of course — you came second. The way she has been so adamant on abandoning you today makes that point even more crystal clear, with each individual call she’s making, more words exchanged about sudden work relations rather than her own girlfriend on a well planned date.

It takes all your willpower not to let it dilute your mirthful attitude. With a shrug of your purse’s strap over the arch of your shoulder, and the shimmying of your hips out of the vibrating car seat, you begin to stand. Make your way over to a different game across the expanse of the arcade room. The area is dimly lit, save for the intensely hued lights flashing from each individual game screen.

Whilst you stay immersed by mashing blue and red buttons inside, a grin over your youthful features, Jill Valentine is much on the contrary. She’s stood outside, a scowl cast over her pink lips as she speaks with her colleague about information she could, quite literally, give two shits less about. Her boot is kicked up against the wall of the building, an expression of irritation clouding over her already-hardened features, wrinkles of age twisted around the flesh of her waterline, smile lines curling downward against her frown.

“Tomorrow, alright? I’m busy today. No more calls, got it?”

She warns, swallowing down the hiss that nearly pounces out from between her lips. She wants to say something worse than that. Maybe even a good, ‘go fuck yourself and stop calling my number’ sounds more appealing, but she diverges from actually saying that venomous remark. Doesn’t stop her from muttering a few curses under her breath once she’s hung up the phone, though.

There’s two sides of the story here, but at the end of the day, both of you are unsatisfied with how today's events are being twisted. The older woman is aggravated that she's being interrupted from her time with you. The younger, you, becoming rather solemn over the fact that your girlfriend is constantly being taken away.

The short-haired brunette rubs a palm across the stretch of her forehead, long fingertips and wide knuckles bumping up against her pale skin, and she breathes in before exhaling a hefty amount of air.

“Alright”, she shrugs, saying this more to herself in reassurance than anything else, mentally preparing herself for that look of despair in your pretty eyes that she’ll soon be faced with. God, she felt terrible.

She shoved her phone back into the small pocket of her jeans and pivoted on the heel of her shoes, hand grasping for the door handle. She brought herself back inside the arcade. She almost smiles at the sight of you. All excited and giddy, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. ‘Like a kid in a candy shop’, she’s chuckling to herself, boots shuffling along the soft trim of the patterned carpet.

Almost.

But seeing another form pressed up against your side sours something deep inside her. Large hands guiding yours to certain buttons on the machine, hip brushing up against hip, boisterous laughs echoing in the air, all whilst the cartoonish music and spirited sound effects synthesize in the background.

The woman can feel the pumping organ within her chest palpitate, it’s warm and uneasy, a maelstrom of heat broiling at the pit of her stomach and seeping into the pores of her skin. Her flesh is set aflame, fists clenched, and her jaw tensing; her teeth grit inside her mouth, white canines squeaking and clashing against each other in a slow grind.

Jealousy is the easiest way to describe the scorching sensation. Seeing what’s rightfully hers — melt under the presence of another?

‘I left her alone for one goddamn second.’

Jill Valentine scowls as she feels her blood singe. ‘The hell does he think he is? What gives him the right to just fuckin’ walk right up and get into my girlfriends personal space?’

She tries to be bitter, tries to find a reason for her unreasonable irritation. Beaming brightly, the apples of your cheeks uplifted and shimmering, round eyes focused on some stupid fighting game that resembles Mortal Kombat. Jubilant and content, obsidian pupils dilated. This beautiful display, and yet, it wasn’t for her to indulge in, was it? It’s as if a hand had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart.

Her ego has deflated, and like a dejected child, she glumly sits herself down close nearby, slumped in her seat as she watches you chatter with the male stranger.

Her phone vibrates. Another message. She ignores it purposefully, thoroughly imprisoned into the wreck of her own insecure psychology.

The evening has improved, for the most part. At least, it’s more appealing for your half rather than the middle-aged woman. The two of you eat at a nice restaurant just downtown, settled into your seats at a wooden table, a view of the lively city; just outside the wide casement windows beside you, a serenic display.

Not even a nice meal can save the grimacing brunette's mood. Not when you’re rambling on and on about the new combos and tricks that you’ve learned today, or about how much you’ve improved on a specific fighting style game. It only seems to tamper with Jill the more she’s listening to you.

You speak with tones of exultation and glee, fascinated and bewildered from the mere fact that something you once were intimidated by is now mastered by a smash of your finger against a button. So many clashing statements of ‘he taught me this,’ and ‘he taught me that’ had been eagerly pronounced amongst the opening of your lips and the click of your wet tongue.

Jill tightened her hold against her cutlery, her fork scraping along the edge of her porcelain plate. Watching your facialized jocundity does nothing but dampen the warmth she once envisioned for today.

“Yeah”, she hums in response, nodding her head, her discouragement concealed by a pleased facade, “I’m glad you had fun, baby.”

Veins bulge, and her body heats up. She can feel her blood grow scalding hot once more, that air of vexation and covetousness swirling around her head and mixing her brain into mush.

The car ride home is no different. Her skin has grown white around the bulbs of her knuckles, hands gripping firmly on the steering wheel. It’s a silent drive, unpleasant. Even more-so when the two of you return to the comfort of your shared apartment.

That’s when everything unwinds. Now away from the curious eyes of the public, finally concealed underneath the roof of your own home. You make an attempt to speak again, but are silenced immediately.

The middle-aged woman kicks the door closed with the heel of her boot, sending it slamming behind her, the lock on the knob jittering as it connects into place. You had acknowledged that perhaps she was upset, but to this length of such physical force? She was damn mere seconds from breaking the door. You really couldn’t read her as well as you always thought.

You had winced, crumbling into yourself at the sudden act of outrage. Shoulders hunched up so far that you felt them brush up against the outer shell of your earlobe. You cowered and trembled, bones threatening to just melt into jelly, and shrink away into a meek puddle of nothingness. An image of a mouse, so small and fragile, standing in the shadow of a warlike fiend.

“Can’t shut your goddamn mouth for one second, can you?”

The seasoned agent scowls, her jaw tightening up and falling stiff. When in a moment of anger and fury, rationality seems so far from the field of vision, and right now? The blue-eyed older woman was blinded. Jaded from her own sense of possession and childish jealousy.

“Do you think I really give a shit about how much fun you had with some stranger? I leave you for one second-”, her pink lips are pruned and falling agape as she spits out words of poison, eyes widened and nearly bulging from her sockets, “one fucking second, and you’re letting some dickhead breathe down your ass? His hands all on you?”

Evocation crosses her, a vision of the man in the arcade. His eyes descend upon you just behind the gleam of his rimmed glasses, lanky fingers drawing against your wrist. Staying firm and still, his body just adjacent from yours. Both faces painted in frames of magenta and indigo, pearly whites showcased from behind the curve of his thin lips; admiring every crevice and curve of your physique and womanly structure.

That’s all that it took for the older woman. She gave it time to marinate in her past memory, but the inner ache had failed to dissipate. Her blood boiled.

“You-”

An immediate expression of confusion unveils, drawing over your quivering features. You’re intimidated by her sudden hostility, the tailbone of your spine colliding against the marble surface of the kitchen counter in a cowardice attempt to escape the situation.

“You looked fine earlier- you said it was alright- I just-”, you’re trembling over each word, you’re beginning to ramble, “I don’t understand why you’re so upset? I didn’t mean to do anything wrong- me and him were just playing together, it wasn’t anything like that. I didn’t even know him, Jill.”

The brunette's lips curl into a cruel, and nearly incredulous smirk at your response, her head shaking whilst she draws her hand out in a physical gesture of her own exasperation. Her face, creased with age and experience, now flushed crimson. She looked crazed.

“Oh, save the bullshit. You liked it, I saw you. Talked about how much fun you had with him all day. Should have just gone home with him.”

“You should have told me!-”

You pipe out, voice drawn out squeaky and timid, your words drowned by the booming shouts she’s hissing out, seething as she dares not face away from you. Determined to win this argument.

Having the audacity to convince you that you’re in the wrong here. As if your innocence and sweetness toward passersby meant that you were unfaithful rather than enjoying simple pleasures. Your one interaction with a man deemed nothing but cheating, and all because he versed you in a mortal kombat game.

“Oh, what? I’m supposed to tell you not to go out and fucking flirt with other people?”

Jill has never acted like this before. Had always bathed you, her beautiful and prized girl, in dollops of sugary sweet words and reassurances. She’s the older woman here. Shouldn’t she be more understanding? But so stuck in her old-fashioned ways, brain clearly riddled with arrogance and self-righteousness.

An argument had never been formulated, emotions never stirred. Maybe a few huffed words were exchanged over which groceries to buy, or what dinner to eat — but such verbal abuse was nonexistent. Had never happened in your “tranquil” relationship. Except for now, that is.

So much effort, all for the middle-aged woman’s tender facade to be burnt down into smithereens, and her jealousy is like spitting fire, making your eyes well up with liquified warmth. You harshly remind her of her mistakes prior. Your planned date with her, the arrangements and proposed ideas. All for her to be entwined in her cellular device, making calls and sending out texts for the whole day.

“What about earlier? When you ignored me, and were glued to your phone all day? Clearly your job is more important than me.”

The waterworks threaten to spill over the dam that is rightfully your rounded eyes, glistening tears mounting in transparent pearls along your rows of onyx shaded lashes. Something in Jill’s face twists at the sight, her stomach churning. Realization, but it’s blurred away quickly.

“You couldn’t care less about me, could you? You promised me— promised you’d spoil me today and give me your undivided attention. I guess I don’t matter?”

You swallow mid-sentence, heart thumping against the structure of your rib cage. Each word of yours is so weak and broken, resembling a sickly and puny hiccup. Your trembling palms are grasping for the counter behind you, nails clutching for the cool surface. You were tired of the accusations. Exhausted from being denied her love and affection, and instead being faced with taunts and insults. You deserved better than this.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me. Because he gave me a better time? Because he didn’t toss me aside for hours and avoid me? Break promises?”

The way you bit back was unexpected, but the moment you let it sink it, regret soon molds over.

The air surrounding the two of you is thick and heated, so sweltering that it threatens the capability of breathing. Your words had struck Jill deeply, aiding the maddened concoction that bubbles in the blackened abyss of her belly. The acidity rising up the tube of her esophagus, bile trapped inside her throat.

“I’m done with this conversation, Jill. You’re just- you’re not being fair. I’m not going to argue with you over this.”

And when you turn to face away from her? Daring to flee, even in such a time like this — strict actions soon come after the exchange of harsh words.

Jill crosses the room, a large hand stretching to reach you. Her calloused hand circles around your wrist, clutching you firmly and with much purpose, thumb dipping toward the head of your ulna bone. She pulls you in a sharp and precise yank, not caring about how she manhandles you, even after the exaggerated yelp that is pushed from your plush lips.

The rough pads of her fingertips dip into your smooth flesh, her blunt and trimmed nails digging crescents along the velvety surface, forcing you to succumb to her forced authority. So many years she’s spent using those fingers to wield weapons and train in combat, now abusing their force of power by bending you into a cage of submission.

“The hell do you think you’re goin’?”

Another tug, and your shoulder blades collide against her chest, your figure taut and almost held in a paralyzed state, not daring to move an inch. Nor a bare centimeter. Your face grows pallid, knees wobbling beneath you and nearly failing to stay balanced.

“Don’t ever walk away from me when I’m talking. Do you understand me? You listen when I speak to you.”

Moist heat fans over the stretch of your nape, and your neck hairs curl up in response. Goosebumps prickling up along your arms and legs the moment you are subjected to the humidity of her breath blowing out along your ear, her robust anatomy pressing rigidly against your own limbs.

You can hear the clack of spit draw atop her gums, echoing along the press of her tongue whenever she’s vocal. Her voice is gruff and deep, yet feminine and rich all the same. Drawing out sentences of dominance and command that make strange waves of heat lap at your tummy, pooling in the center of your cotton panties. You mistake the sudden dampness for a burst of anxiety.

“Do you have any idea…”

She pauses, as if holding back from lashing out on you entirely. She’s being cruel. Scowling as she stands behind you. Her breasts flush along your back, and her firm hands trapping you down. Making sure you don’t run away this time. Not that you’d even contemplate it.

“Do you have any idea how I felt? How I feel? The shit I do? I’ve got a job. Risk my life every fucking day. I’ve been in this mess probably longer than you’ve been alive, you know that?”

A gulp resounds from your mouth, tastebuds along your wriggling pink muscle now wrought with parchedness, lacking any formulation of moisture. Valentine continues after taking a sharp breath, each syllable she pronounces is rough and gnarled.

“So I can buy you stupid shit, like a ticket to the arcade. So you can sit around, and let some shithead drool over your head. And now you’re blaming me? Because I had some calls to make? Because you couldn’t be patient for a split second?”

Her calloused digits release the grasp along your wrist, now shooting upward to thread through the roots of your hair, curling into the locks and giving a firm tug. Controlling the position of power so tortuously. She pulls so hard that a squeak is forcedly erupted from you, stars swimming in your vision.

“And the funniest thing?”, she grimaced, still scowling beside your ear, “you haven’t apologized once. You didn’t even try.”

She yanks along the strands as if your tresses are some sort of personalized leash, nails scraping along the slope of your scalp, bringing you so far back that the arch of your throat is craned downward. The crown of your head pushed into her pronounced collarbone, doe-like eyes peering up at the older woman.

“Do I have to teach you how to apologize now, too? Have no goddamn manners for your age. Always want everything.”

Warmth floods your tummy once more. Something runs slick along the square of your gusset. You feel it whenever you wobble and shake, the sensation of stickiness webs elongated strands across the bridge of your puffy labia. It’s not your self-proclaimed anxiety. It’s your undeniable arousal.

“I’m sorry”, you sputter out a hoarse response, your supposed apology that the older woman demanded. She doesn’t seem to let up though, but of course she wouldn’t. Jill Valentine has never been the type to easily succumb — or sugarcoat, either. And with the current events? Consider her praise and sugary sweetness gone for tonight.

“You’re sorry”, she grunts out mockingly, condemnation swirling in the depths of her obsidian pupils. “I’m sure you are.”

With your hair still firmly gripped between her fingers, she presses her hips into the softness of your rear, propelling you forward with a quick shove.

You stumble on your clumsy feet the moment she ushers you into the kitchen, steps unpurposefully misplaced, and soon enough — your right cheek is smushed along the crisp white marble countertop. You find yourself bent over the kitchen’s island, memories of dicing vegetables along cutting boards, and preparing supper for your lover have been eradicated. Replaced by an image of sheer wanton destruction.

It’s filthy the way you writhe along the hardened surface, thighs spread apart and separated by Jill’s intruding knee. She wedges her toned leg in-between, the warmth of her kneecap placing cruel pressure against that specific swell that hides inside your undergarments. You have to bite back the urge to grind your hips downward; the temptation is so intense that it makes your brain fog.

“If you’re so sorry, you know what you did wrong, I take it?”

Both of her slim and scarred hands abandon your hair and slide down the bend of your spine, digits rolling up your pretty little skirt in each palm, crumpling the cotton material into an irrelevant lump of creased fabric. Jill shrugs the hem of the garment to the top of your hips until it’s shriveled and stiff, baring your back-end to her hungry eyes.

“So”, she begins to speak, the trace of her hands along the suppleness of your right cheek was nice and simple, her voice devoid of any real emotion, “tell me

what you’re apologizing for.” She cups the soft flesh, her fingers dipping into your ass as if it were dough. “And what you did wrong.”

What you did wrong? The hilarity of it all was tremendous.

You can’t find the words to speak, no reasonable way to reply to her command. You nearly huff from the audacity, but your words grow choked up, and your voice is drained due to the spreading ache that suddenly engulfs your rear. She’s spanked you, quick and sharp, the edge of her calloused palm dragging against your soft flesh like a whip, the texture like dry sandpaper as it strikes you.

A cry bursts from your lips, a wail so pitiable that Jill can’t help but chuckle with dastardly amusement. Any other moment, and she would have soothingly brushed her fingers against the crimson welt that shapes into your ass, offering cherishing caresses in replacement of a verbal apology. But In her current belief? Your lack of response challenges her patience, nearly ready to land a firm hit against your flesh for a second time.

“I’m- I’m sorry for talking back-”, words tumble out in a clustered mess, your speech impaired due to the throbbing ache that courses up along your hip. You grit your teeth once the same treatment spreads to the surface of your adjacent hip, Jill’s hardened blows lashing along the unmarred skin, leaving no patch of muscle unattended.

“And for speaking to him-”, three spanks she’s planted, and yet you’re already a quivering mess, shrunken and beaten against the solid countertop. There’s no doubt in hell that she’s not being easy with you, and the experience behind her proficient hits proves that.

“Jesus Christ.”

The older woman mumbles out, and the way she hisses under her breath is akin to something of judgment and surprise. A blunt nail curls into the hem of your underwear, tugs it, and stretches the flimsy and sheer fabric upward.

It’s only then that you realize what she’s scrutinizing. Especially after you feel the drag of her thumb dipping toward your clit, rubbing slow circles against the cloth in a devilish tease. Your teeth clash and bump against each other, a pathetic whine almost escaping, and all due to the older woman’s perverted touch.

“Your panties,” a boisterous laugh bellows from the pits of her stomach, and you flush with embarrassment as you understand what she means, “you’re soaked.”

Lo and behold, you indeed were “soaked” (as Jill had quoted). A patch of wetness soils the gusset of your undergarments, arousal seeping past the threads of fabric, darkening the material that’s clung against the swell of your cunt. To make matters worse, you’re bare and vulnerable, right in front of the older woman’s eyes. She won’t live that down, you just know it. Not until the day you die.

A grunt resounds in the kitchen, her form separating from yours to stand upright, lengthy fingers lazily threading over the zipper of her pants, tugging it downward, hearing the sound rip its way loose.

“So goddamn mad at you right now”, she mumbles under her breath, glowering at your crumpled figure. “Can’t fucking believe you. First, you’re arguing with me — and now this?”, the scowling brunette's fingers finish plopping open the last few buttons of the jeans she’s wearing, navy blue boxers snug underneath. Her pants slither down the hardened muscle of her thighs, undressing herself with impatience.

“Get to the room. Now”, she demands of you, and with that mere order, nothing else needs to be said. There’s no need to delay the inevitable. “And take off that skirt, while you’re at it.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, each thrum of the frenzied and wild organ so heavy that you feel the weight of it sink into the depths of your body. With every singular step, you risk stumbling against the wooden floor; your shoes barely touch the ground as you practically race and scramble just to reach the bedroom door. Like a delicate flower, you are — carried by the gusts of wind that are Jill's oppressive instructions.

With clammy palms and trembling fingers, you grasp for the steel knob and swing the door open, wasting no second to wobble forward and seat yourself off the edge of the mattress.

Metal collides and clinks together in warning, telling you she’s coming. Undoing her shirt, and wrapping the belt around her hand. The processed leather screeching and creasing underneath the grind of the older woman’s digits. She follows your shadow in leisurely strides, turning the corner with measured composure and a solemn expression. As if she hadn’t already planned on how she was going to fuck you dumb.

It only makes the thickened heat between your thighs dribble further into its cotton bed, as each crisp and rough stomp of her boots along the solid floorboards makes you warm with want. Eager. Anticipating. Thighs grind together once you manage to slither your heels off, toes curling into the carpeted material below the bed.

And when you finish unzipping the top of your skirt, allowing the fabric to lower from the dip of your waist, and pool around your ankles — a figure of dominance and control stands in the doorway, the hall devoured by darkness.

Over the course of time, love and intimacy came in their own, individual ways. Between the two of you, that is.

The middle-aged woman found herself to be consistently busy, her nose always pointed and buried into the stack of reports she needed to finish, wrists tight and strained from how long she’s spent scrawling notes amongst the white sheets of torment.

Sex wasn’t as common. Lovemaking being quick and rushed, soft words spoken, honeyed kisses exchanged between bated breaths and velvety lips that speak words of encouragement and devotion.

Nights spent wasting away by the creaking wood of Jill’s office desk. The one she has propped away in some messy room of the apartment. Cork-boards filled with maps and pinpoints, a few pictures of you propped up in irrelevant areas. Atop the cabinet — framed photos of your beaming face furnished along the white walls. She’s got you everywhere, along with her crumpled balls of paper that are strewn around the floor, obvious that she grew too tired or lazy to throw them into the trash bin. She loves you so much that it’s sick.

The brunette finds herself arching her spine into the back of her rolling chair, bony fingers threading through your tresses, curling into it as she grunts. Her head is thrown back as she huffs out sequences of sultry content, your tongue laving bundles of spit over her clit, dipping near her entrance and tasting the drip of her cunt, humming as you feel the press of her fingertips along your skull.

Another night you’ve searched for her, desperate and deprived and begging on your knees. Another night she orgasms, groaning and gasping as she spasms against the lap of your tongue. It repeats like a record, over and over. Until the next day she goes back to work, and refuses to make time with you all over again.

It’s different today. Where everything tumbled down the rabbit-hole.

The sight of her now is so rare, you’re sure you’ll never forget such an image. Obsidian shaded silicone protruding from her pelvis, tilting toward the ceiling as if it’s some striking weapon, foreseeing a prophecy of impending doom. A toy she purchased months before, buried in the past. Clearly forgotten about, and never used — unfortunately kept tucked away into the bottom of her wardrobe. Sleek and shiny. Brand new, and ready for a good breaking in. Tonight’s the night, you suppose.

Her almond shaped eyes bore into yours, rich-colored cerulean swirling around dilated pupils, speaking words without volume. She’s as enchanting as she is daunting, threads of syrupy strands curling down the stretch of her sharpened cheekbones, hair falling as she keeps her gaze on you. The portrait is so beautiful and provocative, you’d never wish this memory to diminish.

“Open your mouth.”

Jill drawls, low and raspy as she waits with her palms laying flat on her hips. Glancing down at your feeble figure which kneels before her, staying balanced whilst you clamp your hands against her thighs.

Poor thing you are, so cautious and wary when your mouth opens, your jawbone taut and rigid, feeling like weighted stone as your quivering lips press forward.

You’re new to this, inexperienced to the bulbous head that is welcomed into the accommodated warmth of your mouth. The plastic has no taste, just the scent of its artificial realness drifting past your nose hairs and swirling around the dizziness in your head.

You clamp tighter around her thighs, swallowing waterfalls of anxious drool down the well of your esophagus, your timid tongue curling up and hiding beside the security of your tonsils. Too nervous to thoroughly take her in.

Like an infant against a pacifier, suckling the tip further into the wetness of your gums, keeping your eyes closed all-the-while the rubber like-plastic protruded from your right cheek. Terrified to be face-to-face with her snarling and haughty judgment.

“You think that’s good enough?”

A calloused hand soothes across the hairs of your nape, laid to curl and rest there as she draws you near. A reminder that she’s in charge. The hardened press of her thumb into your neck confirms that.

“Stick your fucking tongue out. Blow me like a big girl, yeah?”, her tongue runs over her enamel and she sucks, swallowing dryly against the glistening whites of her teeth. “Do it how I want”, and so you try.

With you kneeling, bare and naked, tits hanging below you, and your cunt squeezing around thin air between your legs — you comply. Your cheeks hollow out as you take half of the length into your waiting mouth, plopping the heavy silicone amongst your writhing tongue, allowing the pink muscle to curl around the mushroom-shaped tip. With the rough and warm hand guiding you, you bob your head to a steady rhythm, spit and gargles conjoined.

“Yeah, that’s it. Just keep quiet and put that pretty mouth to good use.”

Slick draws cold over the flesh of your lower lips, arousal potent and thick like molasses as it drips between each pulsating fold. A piteous mewl reverberated in your throat, sweet eyes flitting up to catch Jill’s gaze, and she swears to the heavens she could come from that innocent look alone. The salty tears brimming along the corners of your waterline, mere seconds from spilling — the flush of your skin. You take her so well, you always do. It almost makes her want to croon, and to apologize for being so filled with contempt.

That’s not to be easily given, though. Especially not with the way you gag when the rubberized cock dips past your tonsils and tickles along the slimy walls of your throat, reflexes causing you to choke. You're quick to gain composure, though, too cock-drunk to allow the show to end. You’re back to bobbing your head, nails digging crescents into Jill’s thighs as you clamp tighter and tighter.

You want this. It’s a fact that aids in inflating Jill’s ego.

The bedroom mirror captures the image just across from the both of you, and the older nearly groans at the vision. Watching your pebbled nipples fatten and swell within the reflective glass, breasts swinging as you brought your mouth down with every push. Imitating the way Jill ruts her hips carelessly into your mouth, matching your rhythm. Jesus, it was a sight.

A hand fists into your hair, halting your desperate movements and dragging your mouth off her spit-lathered dick. A sheen of drool pearls along the plastic veins that wrap around the black shaft, glimmering and glistening under the wax and wane of the yellowed lighting. Leaving with an obnoxious pop — you gasp for breath after the separation, spittle soiling your pretty face and coating your lower chin in patches of saliva — all in which had gushed out when you were too busy blowing Jill’s length.

“That’s enough”, the brunette says, respiring heavily, “lay on the bed.” The harness strapped to her hips rattles, the toned muscles in her abdomen rippling with every sharp inhale she takes. She directs you with the point of her chin. “On your back, legs up.”

Spots of black speckle your vision for a second, your sight blurred from the liquid pooling in your eyes, and pearls of sweat lining in columns within the pores of your forehead. It’s hard to almost process what she says, but you understand after a moment of catching your breath, your palms separating from her thighs.

Your knees wobble once you physically begin to stand on your feet, and you internally chastise yourself for not being quicker and more precise. You totter over a couple of feet, crawling atop the silky sheets without much complaint, and she’s in your peripheral, right behind you.

The comfort of the bedsheets surround you, cushioning your form and laying you like a princess amongst her throne. It’s necessary, of course, due to the older woman’s authoritative press of her hand into your chest, sinking your naked body further into the comforter. Might as well get snug before your brain is fried from sex, which leaves you as nothing but a pile of sizzled, meaty mush.

“Atta girl”, Jill coos with a salacious glint in her eyes, her hips meeting the backs of your thighs the moment she grasps onto your legs and keeps you held upright.

She slants her head to the side, brunette strands falling astray as she examines your pussy, calloused hands kept firm around your ankles. A few seconds of examination, and then a shit-eating grin becomes pronounced over her features. Thoroughly complacent after acknowledging that you’ve grown so wet that she doesn’t even need to prepare you.

“Don’t even move an inch”, she warns, “Just like that.” A hand slithering down from your ankle to her pelvis, taking a moment to stroke her silicone dick for a moment, a palm wrapped firmly around the thickened shaft; making haste to rub the head up against your cunt. She lubricates herself in your juices by rocking her hips to a steady rhythm, the toy dipping back and forth beneath the cushion of your lower lips, watching the moisture disperse. A generous coat of your sloppy spit and arousal scillinates over the deeply shaded rubber.

A whine escapes your lips, head thrown back as she teasingly stimulates your clit just from the gentle prod of her cock slotted up against your pussy, and you sob, hands clamping down on the sheets with desperation. The friction is delicious and brutish equally.

But nothing in this universe compares to the euphoria of when she fills you. Guiding the toy with one hand, watching the girth fill you with ease. It’s a tight fit, your cunt swallows her up within mere seconds, squelching cervix walls wrapping around her length. As if never wanting to let go, mirthful at her forceful entry. You’ve never felt so stretched before, it’s almost indescribable how big Jill Valentine is.

“Jill….”, you cry, but it’s with bliss rather than pain. The sound of your high-pitched squeaks are enough to make her rasp out a moan, scarred hands pressing your legs up to your chest, basking in the submissive portrait you’ve painted. The brunette feels her own heat build up beneath the restriction of her strap harness, salivating whilst she watches your adorable little bud grow erect. No longer thinking about the guy from earlier, now, are you? Neither is she.

The older woman drives her dick further within you, in and out, in and out — all with a precise rock of her hips, her muscles relaxed. Beads of salty sweat slip down in rivulets, the lines of liquid traveling past her neck and in between the supple dip of her cleavage. Consumed by the ample swell of her tits hiding beneath the gray fabric of her sports bra.

She fucks you until you orgasm too many times to count — and what else is there to do? With you, so weak and whorish beneath her, always bent from her instruction. She’ll continue until you’ve learned your place.