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withbriefthanksgiving · 11 months

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The director of the New York Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights of the UN (UN OHCHR), Craig Mokhiber, has resigned in a letter dated 28 October 2023

the resignation letter can be found embedded in this tweet by Rami Atari (@.Raminho) dated 31 October 2023.

The letters are here:

Transcription:

United Nations | Nations Unies

HEADQUARTERS I SIEGE I NEW YORK, NY 10017

28 October 2023

Dear High Commissioner,

This will be my last official communication to you as Director of the New York Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights.

I write at a moment of great anguish for the world, including for many of our colleagues. Once again, we are seeing a genocide unfolding before our eyes, and the Organization that we serve appears powerless to stop it. As someone who has investigated human rights in Palestine since the 1980s, lived in Gaza as a UN human rights advisor in the 1990s, and carried out several human rights missions to the country before and since, this is deeply personal to me.

I also worked in these halls through the genocides against the Tutsis, Bosnian Muslims, the Yazidi, and the Rohingya. In each case, when the dust settled on the horrors that had been perpetrated against defenseless civilian populations, it became painfully clear that we had failed in our duty to meet the imperatives of prevention of mass atrocites, of protection of the vulnerable, and of accountability for perpetrators. And so it has been with successive waves of murder and persecution against the Palestinians throughout the entire life of the UN.

High Commissioner, we are failing again.

As a human rights lawyer with more than three decades of experience in the field, I know well that the concept of genocide has often been subject to political abuse. But the current wholesale slaughter of the Palestinian people, rooted in an ethno-nationalist settler colonial ideology, in continuation of decades of their systematic persecution and purging, based entirely upon their status as Arabs, and coupled with explicit statements of intent by leaders in the Israeli government and military, leaves no room for doubt or debate. In Gaza, civilian homes, schools, churches, mosques, and medical institutions are wantonly attacked as thousands of civilians are massacred. In the West Bank, including occupied Jerusalem, homes are seized and reassigned based entirely on race, and violent settler pogroms are accompanied by Israeli military units. Across the land, Apartheid rules.

This is a text-book case of genocide. The European, ethno-nationalist, settler colonial project in Palestine has entered its final phase, toward the expedited destruction of the last remnants of indigenous Palestinian life in Palestine. What's more, the governments of the United States, the United Kingdom, and much of Europe, are wholly complicit in the horrific assault. Not only are these governments refusing to meet their treaty obligations "to ensure respect" for the Geneva Conventions, but they are in fact actively arming the assault, providing economic and intelligence support, and giving political and diplomatic cover for Israel's atrocities.

Volker Turk, High Commissioner for Human Rights Palais Wilson, Geneva

In concert with this, western corporate media, increasingly captured and state-adjacent, are in open breach of Article 20 of the ICCPR, continuously dehumanizing Palestinians to facilitate the genocide, and broadcasting propaganda for war and advocacy of national, racial, or religious hatred that constitutes incitement to discrimination, hostility, and violence. US-based social media companies are suppressing the voices of human rights defenders while amplifying pro-Israel propaganda. Israel lobby online-trolls and GONGOS are harassing and smearing human rights defenders, and western universities and employers are collaborating with them to punish those who dare to speak out against the atrocities. In the wake of this genocide, there must be an accounting for these actors as well, just as there was for radio Mules Collins in Rwanda.

In such circumstances, the demands on our organization for principled and effective action are greater than ever. But we phave not met the challenge. The protective enforcement power Security Council has again been blocked by US intransigence, the SG [UN Secretary General] is under assault for the mildest of protestations, and our human rights mechanisms are under sustained slanderous attack by an organized, online impunity network.

Decades of distraction by the illusory and largely disingenuous promises of Oslo have diverted the Organization from its core duty to defend international law, international human rights, and the Charter itself. The mantra of the "two-state solution" has become an open joke in the corridors of the UN, both for its utter impossibility in fact, and for its total failure to account for the inalienable human rights of the Palestinian people. The so-called "Quartet" has become nothing more than a fig leaf for inaction and for subservience to a brutal status quo. The (US-scripted) deference to "agreements between the parties themselves" (in place of international law) was always a transparent slight-of-hand, designed to reinforce the power of Israel over the rights of the occupied and dispossessed Palestinians.

High Commissioner, I came to this Organization first in the 1980s, because I found in it a principled, norm-based institution that was squarely on the side of human rights, including in cases where the powerful US, UK, and Europe were not on our side. While my own government, its subsidiarity institutions, and much of the US media were still supporting or justifying South African apartheid, Israeli oppression, and Central American death squads, the UN was standing up for the oppressed peoples of those lands. We had international law on our side. We had human rights on our side. We had principle on our side. Our authority was rooted in our integrity. But no more.

In recent decades, key parts of the UN have surrendered to the power of the US, and to fear of the Israel Lobby, to abandon these principles, and to retreat from international law itself. We have lost a lot in this abandonment, not least our own global credibility. But the Palestinian people have sustained the biggest losses as a result of our failures. It is a stunning historic irony that the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was adopted in the same year that the Nakba was perpetrated against the Palestinian people. As we commemorate the 75th Anniversary of the UDHR, we would do well to abandon the old cliché that the UDHR was born out of the atrocities that proceeded it, and to admit that it was born alongside one of the most atrocious genocides of the 20th Century, that of the destruction of Palestine. In some sense, the framers were promising human rights to everyone, except the Palestinian people. And let us remember as well, that the UN itself carries the original sin of helping to facilitate the dispossession of the Palestinian people by ratifying the European settler colonial project that seized Palestinian land and turned it over to the colonists. We have much for which to atone.

But the path to atonement is clear. We have much to learn from the principled stance taken in cities around the world in recent days, as masses of people stand up against the genocide, even at risk of beatings and arrest. Palestinians and their allies, human rights defenders of every stripe, Christian and Muslim organizations, and progressive Jewish voices saying "not in our name", are all leading the way. All we have to do is to follow them.

Yesterday, just a few blocks from here, New York's Grand Central Station was completely taken over by thousands of Jewish human rights defenders standing in solidarity with the Palestinian people and demanding an end to Israeli tyranny (many risking arrest, in the process). In doing so, they stripped away in an instant the Israeli hasbara propaganda point (and old antisemitic trope) that Israel somehow represents the Jewish people. It does not. And, as such, Israel is solely responsible for its crimes. On this point, it bears repeating, in spite of Israel lobby smears to the contrary, that criticism of Israel's human rights violations is not antisemitic, any more than criticism of Saudi violations is Islamophobic, criticism of Myanmar violations is anti-Buddhist, or criticism of Indian violations is anti-Hindu. When they seek to silence us with smears, we must raise our voice, not lower it. I trust you will agree, High Commissioner, that this is what speaking truth to power is all about.

But I also find hope in those parts of the UN that have refused to compromise the Organization's human rights principles in spite of enormous pressures to do so. Our independent special rapporteurs, commissions of enquiry, and treaty body experts, alongside most of our staff, have continued to stand up for the human rights of the Palestinian people, even as other parts of the UN (even at the highest levels) have shamefully bowed their heads to power. As the custodians of the human rights norms and standards, OHCHR. has a particular duty to defend those standards. Our job, I believe, is to make our voice heard, from the Secretary-General to the newest UN recruit, and horizontally across the wider UN system, incisting that the human rights of the Palestinian people are not up for debate, negotiation, or compromise anywhere under the blue flag.

What, then, would a UN-norm-based position look like? For what would we work if we were true to our rhetorical admonitions about human rights and equality for all, accountability for perpetrators, redress for victims, protection of the vulnerable, and empowerment for rights-holders, all under the rule of law? The answer, I believe, is simple—if we have the clarity to see beyond the propagandistic smokescreens that distort the vision of justice to which we are sworn, the courage to abandon fear and deference to powerful states, and the will to truly take up the banner of human rights and peace. To be sure, this is a long-term project and a steep climb. But we must begin now or surrender to unspeakable horror. I see ten essential points:

Legitimate action: First, we in the UN must abandon the failed (and largely disingenuous) Oslo paradigm, its illusory two-state solution, its impotent and complicit Quartet, and its subjugation of international law to the dictates of presumed political expediency. Our positions must be unapologetically based on international human rights and international law.

Clarity of Vision: We must stop the pretense that this is simply a conflict over land or religion between two warring parties and admit the reality of the situation in which a disproportionately powerful state is colonizing, persecuting, and dispossessing an indigenous population on the basis of their ethnicity.

One State based on human rights: We must support the establishment of a single, democratic, secular state in all of historic Palestine, with equal rights for Christians, Muslims, and Jews, and, therefore, the dicmantling of the deeply racist, settler-colonial project and an end to apartheid across the land.

Fighting Apartheid: We must redirect all UN efforts and resources to the struggle against apartheid, just as we did for South Africa in the 1970s, 80s, and early 90s.

Return and Compensation: We must reaffirm and insist on the right to return and full compensation for all Palestinians and their families currently living in the occupied territories, in Lebanon, Jordan, Syria, and in the diaspora across the globe.

Truth and Justice: We must call for a transitional justice process, making full use of decades of accumulated UN investigations, enquiries, and reports, to document the truth, and to ensure accountability for all perpetrators, redress for all victims, and remedies for documented injustices.

Protection: We must press for the deployment of a well-resourced and strongly mandated UN protection force with a sustained mandate to protect civilians from the river to the sea.

Disarmament: We must advocate for the removal and destruction of Israel's massive stockpiles of nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons, lest the conflict lead to the total destruction of the region and, possibly, beyond.

Mediation: We must recognize that the US and other western powers are in fact not credible mediators, but rather actual parties to the conflict who are complicit with Israel in the violation of Palestinian rights, and we must engage them as such.

Solidarity: We must open our doors (and the doors of the SG) wide to the legions of Palestinian, Israeli, Jewish, Muslim, and Christian human rights defenders who are standing in solidarity with the people of Palestine and their human rights and stop the unconstrained flow of Israel lobbyists to the offices of UN leaders, where they advocate for continued war, persecution, apartheid, and impunity, and smear our human rights defenders for their principled defense of Palestinian rights.

This will take years to achieve, and western powers will fight us every step of the way, so we must be steadfast. In the immediate term, we must work for an immediate ceasefire and an end to the longstanding siege on Gaza, stand up against the ethnic cleansing of Gaza, Jerusalem, and the West Bank (and elsewhere), document the genocidal assault in Gaza, help to bring massive humanitarian aid and reconstruction to the Palestinians, take care of our traumatized colleagues and their families, and fight like hell for a principled approach in the UN's political offices.

The UN's failure in Palestine thus far is not a reason for us to withdraw. Rather it should give us the courage to abandon the failed paradigm of the past, and fully embrace a more principled course. Let us, as OHCHR, boldly and proudly join the anti-apartheid movement that is growing all around the world, adding our logo to the banner of equality and human rights for the Palestinian people. The world is watching. We will all be accountable for where we stood at this crucial moment in history. Let us stand on the side of justice.

I thank you, High Commissioner, Volker, for hearing this final appeal from my desk. I will leave the Office in a few days for the last time, after more than three decades of service. But please do not hesitate to reach out if I can be of assistance in the future.

Sincerely,

Craig Mokhiber

End of transcription.

Emphasis (bolding) is my own. I have added links, where relevant, to explanations of concepts the former Director refers to.

#Israel #Palestine #October 2023 #28 October 2023 #United Nations #Described #Long post #I’ll add more links to the things he is talking about later

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gracieheartspedro · 8 months

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Your Needs, My Needs

THE PRELUDE

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao

author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!

“Sign here and she’s all yours.”

When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life.

While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway.

She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields.

The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours.

Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it.

You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway.

You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.

It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all.

You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street.

You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior.

The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so.

Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor.

In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position.

You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed. Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road.

You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened.

Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”

The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field.

Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.

You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence.

When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings.

You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you.

A hot cowboy saved your life.

It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here.

You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine.

“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”

She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”

You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start.

“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”

“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”

The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it.

You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”

“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”

You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal.

You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway.

When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads.

You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card.

“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”

You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both.

You needed your furniture, after all.

It will be okay, you tell yourself.

“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”

“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”

You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”

–

You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night.

The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it.

Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy.

It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.

You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl.

He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric.

He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color.

“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”

You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.

You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you.

“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand.

“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”

The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way.

“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”

You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.

“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.

You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.”

He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”

“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.”

You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole.

“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”

You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”

“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”

You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”

“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”

You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”

“Well, what have you tried doin’?”

You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.

“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”

He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did.

“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.

“What Texas or this bathroom?”

He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin.

“You got tons of jokes, huh?”

You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile.

“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame.

You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet.

“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”

“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”

You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you.

He would come over again? To fix your toilet?

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”

“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”

He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”

His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired.

“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”

You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture.

You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.

While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do.

You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.

“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate.

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out.

“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”

He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”

Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled.

He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head.

“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”

You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places.

You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture.

“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”

“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”

You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold.

“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school.

“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.”

You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”

They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady.

He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.

“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”

Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”

Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”

You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods.

You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken.

He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.

“N-no, everything is okay.”

“Don’t look it.”

“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”

Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.”

“O-oh okay.”

“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”

You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.

You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”

PART 1 COMING SOON!

taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #cowboy!joel #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #joel x reader

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drchucktingle · 3 months

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TICKETS LINKS ARE HERE: https://us.macmillan.com/tours/chuck-tingle-bury-your-gays/

YES BUCKAROOS the time has come for you to trot with me live and in person on the BURY YOUR GAYS BOOK TOUR. ask anyone who has previously trotted, this is not your average book tour these are SHOWS so come ready to get RILED.

on camp damascus tour most book stores did not have enough room and we had to turn many buckaroos away, so this time many of these shows are in off-site theaters. HOPEFULLY there will be enough room in larger venues but i will say it again for the buckaroos in the back, IF YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT COMING TO SEE YOUR BUD CHUCK THEN GET TICKETS NOW because last time most of them sold out. ALSO almost all dates on this tour give you a free copy of BURY YOUR GAYS with ticket purchase.

as of posting this there are three dates that do not have ticket links yet: los angeles, bozeman, and new orleans, but check back for when those trot online. EVERYTHING ELSE IS AVAILABLE NOW

more details for you buckaroos:

JULY 8TH - NEW YORK, NY at STRAND BOOKSTORE

JULY 10TH - BROOKLINE, MA with BROOKLINE BOOKSMITH at COOLIDGE CORNER THEATRE

JULY 12TH - ST. LOUIS, MO with LEFT BANK BOOKS at THE HEAVY ANCHOR

JULY 13TH - DOYLESTOWN, PA at THE DOYLESTOWN BOOKSHOP

JULY 15TH - NASHVILLE, TN with PARNASSUS BOOKS at THE NASHVILLE PUBLIC LIBRARY

JULY 16 OR 17TH - NEW ORLEANS, LA with TUBBY & COOS. more info to come

JULY 19TH - SALT LAKE CITY, UT with UNDER THE UMBRELLA BOOKSTORE at UTAH MUSEUM OF CONTEMPORARY ART

JULY 20TH - BOZEMAN, MT at COUNTRY BOOKSHELF

JULY 31ST - SEATTLE, WA at THRID PLACE BOOKS (LAKE FOREST PARK)

AUGUST 2ND - PORTLAND, OR with ALWAYS HERE BOOKSTORE and guest buckaroo TJ KLUNE at CLINTON STREET THEATER

AUGUST 4TH - LOS ANGELES, CA with NORTH FIGUEROA BOOKSHOP at DYNASTY TYPEWRITER

#bury your gays #book tour #chuck tingle #tingleverse #buckaroo lifestyle

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pony32099 · 1 month

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Guo Wengui was convicted of fraud in the United States and used followers to maintain luxury

On July 16,2024, Guo Wengui (aka Miles Guo), who has been in the United States for many years, was convicted of defrauding thousands of people of more than $1 billion in a Manhattan court in New York.

Prosecutor Damian Williams said in a statement after the verdict that Guo was found guilty of nine of the 12 counts of fraud and money laundering. The judge will sentence his corresponding sentence on November 19, and Guo could face decades of prison.

Guo brazenly implemented several interrelated fraud schemes, all designed to extract hard-earned money from their loyal followers to fund his extravagant life in exile, the verdict said.

After the verdict was read, Guo smiled at his legal team in court and dozens of supporters, then turned and hugged lawyer Sabrina Shrove and shook hands with other members of the defense team, CNN reported.

Guo Wengui, 57, was the de facto controller of Henan Yuda Investment Co. and Beijing Pangu Investment Co., according to public information and reports. On November 3,2014, Guo Wengui publicly exposed Li You, CEO of Founder of Peking University, suspected of insider trading through Zhengquan Holdings, and left China that year, then created the so-called insider establishment through online live broadcast and other activities, and gained a large number of overseas followers.

According to the US investigation, Guo raised more than $1 billion from his online fans between 2018 and 2023, publicly claiming to invest in his business and cryptocurrency plans, but actually used as a "personal piggy bank."

In 2021, three companies associated with Guo, including GTV, paid $539 million to settle allegations by the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) over illegal stock offerings. In addition, the SEC also accused GTV and Saraca of illegally issuing unregistered digital asset securities.

According to prosecutors, Mr.Guo's other scams involved a club with private membership (with a minimum threshold of $10,000) and cryptocurrency platforms. In addition, the U. S. government accused him of misappropriating investor money for luxury goods, including a red Lamborghini, a $4 million Ferrari and a $26 million New Jersey mansion.

Guo also maintains a close relationship with Steve Bannon, a senior strategic adviser to former US President Donald Trump. Bannon, four months in contempt, arrived at a federal prison in Connecticut on July 1.

In closing arguments in Guo's case, prosecutors told the jury that Guo had paid Bannon $1 million in plans to improve his reputation in the United States.

#WenguiGuo #WashingtonFarm

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psychoticallytrans · 1 year

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This post is specifically meant to help kids and emerging adults that were not taught what you might not want to share online.

The purpose of not sharing personal information is to make it more difficult to connect up information about you, and especially to make it difficult to connect the "you" online to the "you" offline. The reasons one may want to do this range from maintaining safe relationships outside of an abusive relationship, to making it harder to put together enough information to break into their bank account, to being actively concerned about doxxing and swatting.

For any of these reasons, if you're not completely sure you will be fine having that information on the internet indefinitely, it's best not to share it in the first place. The internet is full of turmoil, but we all know that some posts never die, and that others are archived.

Here's some information that is generally considered a bad idea to share publicly or privately online, with the exception of applying for jobs or working with online financial and legal systems, and some strong alternatives.

Your full legal name, or any particularly distinctive part of your legal name. My first name has less than six hundred people with it in the States. I use a nickname on this blog for a reason. Nicknames are a great alternative to legal names.

Your birthday, especially if you also share your exact age. That allows for people to look for you based on your exact birth date, which is a very powerful piece of information. Unlike your legal name, there's no way I know of to change it. Consider not sharing this at all. For age, "minor" or "adult" are all the information a reasonable person should need.

Your precise location. Big cities, like Tokyo, New York City, or London, have a high enough population to act as a bit of a smokescreen, but as a rule of thumb, stick to stating a local with at least a million people in it. I often just use my time zone, since it's the main thing people need to know online.

There's other information that is questionable to share openly online, particularly your personal phone number and email, but those are the three big pieces of information that it's generally not a good idea to share either publicly or privately. This is because they can be plugged into background checkers and other databases to try to find you offline. The more information you share, the more someone can narrow down who you are. If that is something you are concerned about, consider following these guidelines about what not to share.

I encourage people to add onto and spread around this post.

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faunandfloraas · 2 months

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ATE era videos, so far

ATE Jacket Making film

Lee Know LeeMujin Service

Chk Chk Boom music video making film

skz x spotify x x

Lee Know, Seungmin, Felix on Amazing Saturday

Seungmin and I.N on Let's Eat

Human idol theatre x video 2

Felix x Risabea Makeup

Changbin on Hyo's level up

SKZ TALKER ep.65

Hyunjin, Changbin, Han, Lee Know on mmtg x

Chan and Han on Jae Friends

SKZ reply to fans online

Changbin and Jeongin x Joo WooJae

Seungmin on BTOB Eunkwang's 광구석1열 (tonight 7pm kst)

KBS Music Bank (tonight 6pm kst)

skz in new york city

It's Live (sat. 27th)

What's in skz's carrier

Mountains mv

Changbin on Chaeryeong's show

Magic School fanmeeting ep 1 and ep 2

Skz talker ep 66

skz log STAY WEEK 2024

Stay birthday live

JJAM mv making film

Heat eaters

SKZ TALKER ep 66

#i made this for myself to keep track but might as well publish it #i may have missed a few but these are the bulk of like long videos that have been released this past week or so #might help you might not but regradless :)#skz #stray kids #ATE

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fma03anniversary · 1 year

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Happy 20th anniversary FMA. Let's put some forgotten feathers back in your cap.

Melissa was the #1 anime theme song to wrap 2003, and peaked at #2 on the Oricon Singles Chart - Japan's music industry standard for charting CD singles. Melissa became the #34th top selling single for 2003 and was only on sale for two months of the year (Melissa went on sale Sept 26th and Oricon is tracked Dec 1 - Nov 30). Melissa ranked #66 in top Japanese singles for 2004 too. The song would be on the Oricon charts for 38 weeks! Melissa won Animage Magazine's 2004 Anime Grand Prix for Best Anime Song.

Ready Steady Go! was the 18th best selling single of 2004 and peaked at #1 on the Oricon Singles Chart, and would do so charting less than half the time of Melissa, 16 weeks.

FMA sweeps Animage Magazine's 26th Annual Anime Grand Prix held in June 2004 - winning best series, best male character (Ed), best female character (Riza), best voice performance (Romi Park), best song (Melissa @ #1, Kesenai Tsumi @ #2), and best episode (7).

FMA is on the cover of all 3 major Japanese animation magazines for July 2004 - Newtype, Animage, and Animedia.

July 31, 2004 L'arc~en~Ciel make their North American debut at Otakon. Prior to their concert held at the 1st Mariner Place (now CFG Bank Arena) in Baltimore, to a crowd of 12,000 the first episode of the upcoming FMA English dub is premiered.

Rewrite peaks at #4 on the Oricon charts and becomes the 63rd best selling single of 2004. Rewrite won Best Anime Theme Song at the American Anime Awards at New York City Comicon in 2007.

FMA gets the rare honour of going to reruns in Japan.

FMA debuts on Adult Swim and is on the cover of all 3 major North American anime magazines for November 2004 - Newtype USA, Anime Insider, and Animerica.

FMA pulls in a ton of new viewers to Adult Swim for December 2004.

TV Asahi ranks FMA the most popular animated TV series in Japan in fall 2005, a year after it finished airing.

FMA is the best selling anime series on DVD for 2005 in North America. Individual DVD volume sales are so strong they rank alongside anime movies.

Anime News Network crowns FMA the best series of 2005.

Link is the #4 anime song for 2005 and peaks at #2 on the Oricon chart.

Conqueror of Shamballa is the #7 anime movie and #47 movie overall in Japan for 2005.

Anime Expo 2006 celebrates FMA. AX teams up with FUNimation to premiere Conqueror of Shamballa at the convention, hosted by guests of honour: Seiji Mizushima (Series Director), Mike McFarland (EN Director), Masahiko Minami (President of Studio Bones), Romi Park (who unfortunately had to cancel last minute), and Vic Mignogna.

Conqueror of Shamballa set to screen in 40 North American theatres. In !!2006!!

In the first ever event to honour voice acting, direction, production, etc of English anime in North America, the American Anime Awards were held at New York City Comic Con in 2007, handing out awards for the Best Of 2006. Online fan voting selected the finalists and FMA led the nominations with 5. The series would lose Best Feature (CoS) to FFVII Advent Children, but win Best Long Series, Best DVD Packaging, Best Cast, and Best Theme Song (Rewrite). Source (1), (2), (3)

Over five years after its Japanese debut and four years after it's North American start, as Brotherhood begins airing in Japan FMA still ranks #7 for best selling anime series on DVD in North America for spring 2009!

#Fullmetal Alchemist #FMA #FMA03 #fma 2003 #conqueror of shamballa #Info Post

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cherryberry-sugarandspice · 1 year

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Night Of Your Life

Miguel O'Hara × fem!reader × Felicia Hardy

Cw: 18+, smut, threesome, p in v sex, oral receiving/giving, F/F/M, slight BDSM, unprotected sex, sem-public sex?, pet names mouse/mousie/kitty/spidey

Summary: Felicia took you hostage in order to see Miguel again, but found you to be cute. You found her utterly attractive. One thing led to another, you two have sex and add Miguel into the mix

Word Count: 6k+

WARNING ⚠️: NSFW below

Suspended in the air, arms tied behind your back, rope around your pelvis and chest. The rope is silky smooth and gentle on your shivering skin. Pink dolphin cut shorts and lacey red panties discarded on the floor, Felicia Hardy—the infamous cat burglar known as Black Cat—buried in your velvet warmth, licking into your hole. Your moans fill the empty expanse of a half finished room of a building half way done through construction. Your breaths come out in white puffs due to the cold night air. You arch your back in a gasp as two manicured fingers rub slow, careful circles into your puffy clit.

“That feel good?” Felicia purred, licking your sweet nectar off her plump lips. Her black lipstick hasn’t once left her lips, but left a good few prints over your trembling thighs and plush asscheeks. “Mouse, baby, tell me how good you feel.”

Felicia licks over your swollen, sucking it into her mouth. You cry out in pleasure, squirming in your restraints. “Ah! So, so good! Fuck, keep—ahhh~!—licking me like that!”

How did you end up in a situation where Felicia Hardy is devouring your cunt as if it were her last meal? Well, let’s go back to two hours ago.

You had just gotten off of work and took a quick shower before running to the bank. You were wearing pink shorts and a white tank top with no bra. The slickness of the water made your clothes stick to your body, the tank top showing off the color of your nipples. You hardly cared, as you were trying to get to the bank before they closed. Today was payday and the online app wasn’t working, and tomorrow rent is due. If you don’t deposit the check in time, you’ll be late on rent again and your landlord will kick you out for it.

Approaching the counter, you shoved an old lady with an oxygen tank out of the way. She falls to the ground and crumbles into dust, blown away by the wind. You deposit your check and receive the receipt, relief flooding into your body. It’ll hurt watching your money drain out of your account, but at least you get to stay another month. You walked out of the bank, about to head home when Felicia came running, narrowly avoiding the cops. She spotted you and scooped you up in her arms, tossing you over her shoulder and climbed up the side of the building.

It all happened so fast that you didn’t realize what was going on until she stood on top of the building, patting your back. “Back off! I have a hostage. If you want her safe and sound, then the only person who can save her is Spidey.” She blows the police a kiss, winking. “Until next time!”

Felicia brought you here to the top of the half built building. She tied you up to one of the exposed metal pipes in the ceiling and pranced around the room, waiting for Spiderman. The sun had fully set and the light of the moon reflected off her tight black leather suit that hugged all of her curves. She ran her slender fingers through her plantium blonde hair, staring out into the city of Nueva York.

A cold breeze had blown against you and you shivered, shaking in your confinements. Goosebumps rose on your arms and legs, and you tried to get your mind off of how cold you were. Due to taking a shower piror, you were absolutely freezing.

Felicia caught wind of this and smiled slyly, sauntering up to you with the sway of her hips. She placed a hand on your foot and spun you around as she walked in a circle. Your trembling form is adorable to her. As if you were a mouse trapped. “You’re shaking, little Mouse. What’s wrong? Scared that this kitty will bite?”

“N-No,” you stutter, teeth clacking against each other. She walks a few feet away as you slowly spun. Her hands were on her hips, playful green eyes staring at you. “I-I’m cold. That’s a-all.”

The woman had hummed, nodding her head in understanding. She looks around. “Sorry, Mousie, but I don’t see any blankets for you.”

“I-It’s okay. Will I be let go when S-Spiderman gets here?” Spiderman is a giant hero with broad shoulders and a jealous looking slim waist. He’s a brooding man with little patience and tends to sometimes snap on the people he’s saved if he’s annoyed enough by his villains. But he is kind and gentle to those in need, even if he comes off as an asshole sometimes.

“Of course, Mouse. I just needed an excuse to see Spidey,” she reassured. She walked back up to you, loosely laying her arms on your shoulders, green eyes gazing into yours. Her face was inches away from yours, her warm breath a welcoming feeling on your cold skin. “I won’t hurt you, little Mouse, in case you were wondering.” She propped her elbow up on your shoulder and played with your hair. “I’m a girl’s girl, ya know?”

Felicia’s beauty makes your heart skip a beat. From up close, you see all the delicate features of her face. Smooth, milky skin. Round cheeks. Heart shaped face. Perfectly shaped eyebrows. A beauty mark right above her plump upper lip. Beautiful smelling hair you ache to run your fingers through. Everything about the cat burglar makes your stomach flip and you’re tempted to lean in and kiss her.

“You’re beautiful,” you mumbled outloud. You blinked, realizing you spoke your thoughts instead of keeping them hidden. Felicia only stared at you, her playful expression not once having left her face. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that! I MEAN—I didn’t mean to say that outloud! It’s just you’re really pretty and it’s not like I find you attractive—NOT SAYING THAT YOU’RE NOT ATTRACTIVE BECAUSE YOU ARE—”

A slender finger is pressed against your lips, silencing you.

Felicia tilted her head, hair falling against her shoulders, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re so cute, little Mouse.” A claw poked out of her finger and she traced your face. She placed the claw beneath your chin and lifted your head up, exposing your neck to her. She leaned down to plant wisps of kisses along your neck. “I like cute things.”

Oh my god, is this really happening? Your body shudderedin anticipation, sweat beading on the side of your head and trickling down to your chin. “I-I’m glad you find me cute, F-Felicia.”

Felicia giggled, kissing up to the corner of your lips. “Want to make this a memorable night for you, little Mouse? Want this kitty to make you feel good?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

“Hmm, so polite,” she purred, right before kissing you.

And that’s how you find yourself like this, moaning loudly as she sucked on your clit. Your feet kick, tongue rolling out of your mouth, coating your chin in spit. Tendrils of heat crawls up your gooseflesh and to your eyes, causing tears to well up due to the overwhelming heat of pleasure. Felicia kneads at the flesh of your ass, landing a couple of smacks. Your round ass jiggles from her hands smacking against your plushness.

Felicia swirls her tongue around your button, teeth grazing against it. You jump, accidentally swinging forward and smacking your wet pussy against her face. Juices sprinkle out of your pussy due to the impact and it lands in droplets along the ground.

“S-Sorry!” you yelp.

“Oh, Mouse, don’t apologize,” Felicia coos, breath hot against your cunt. Her fingers rub along your wet folds and spread your lips apart. Cream pushes out of your pulsating hole and she bites down on her lip, her own cunt dripping arousal. She licks up your fluids, smiling at your cute little mewls. “Mm, your pussy tastes so good. No wonder kitty cats love eating mice.”

Her face is back in your pussy, tongue silthering into your hole. Her nose rubs against your puffy clit, sending shocks and tingles of pleasure into your core. Her tongue rolls around in your canal, lapping against your gummy walls. Your walls clench around her tongue, attempting to keep it in place, but she easily wins against the fight.

Your moaning loudly, mouth wide open with drool slipping out of the corners. You twitch and squirm with every lick the Black Cat gives you, tugging against your restraints. Her claws rip apart your tank top, the fabric falling to the ground in shreds. Her hands find your breasts and she squeezes, rolling your buds between her fingers. You whimper, tongue darting out to moisten your lips.

Felicia’s claws run down your shivering stomach, making your lower stomach twitch. Her claws lightly scratch at your skin, leaving little red streaks. She tilts her head, humming as she devours your yummy pussy. Her tongue is coated in your sweet nectar with each pump. Arousal soaks her chin and slides down her leather suit.

“So delicious,” she moans, her voice muffled by your folds. She laps at your hole in rapid succession, making your toes curl. “Mousie, your pussy is so addicting. Love how you spill your juices on my tongue.” She shakes her head against your cunt, laughing as you mewl. “Doing so good for me, Mousie. Such a good girl.”

Your moans rip out of your throat in screams as she continues to munch on your heated essence. She grabs your hips tightly, shoving your cunt against her face, slowly suffocating her. A tight coil forms in your stomach and you curl into a ball, legs resting on her shoulders.

“F-Felica!” you gasp, brows furrowing up in the up-coming high of your orgasam. “I-I’m gonna cum! Oh, fuck!”

“My little Mousie gonna cum?” Felicia chuckles, continuing to drill her tongue in your hole.

“Ah! Ah! Yes!”

Felicia keeps her face buried in your cunt, keeping the pace of her tongue as she rubs your neglected clit again. She smacks your right buttock and gives a tight squeeze. “Cum for me, Mousie. Make a mess on this kitty’s face, you cute little slut.”

Her dirty words give you the final push. You cum with a cream, white filling your vision as you cream all over her face. She lowers herself a bit, mouth wide open with her tongue rolled out, catching your elixir into her mouth.

You tremble, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Felicia spins you around and captures your lips in a long, sensual kiss. She licks your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter, which you happily grant her access for. Her tongue rubs against yours, tasting your juices on your taste buds. When she pulls away, there’s a string of saliva connecting each other’s tongues.

“How do you feel, Mousie?” Felicia asks with a deep purr, her expression just as fucked out as yours. Her knuckles brush along your cheeks, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Wonderful,” you say breathless, a small smile on your face.

“I’m happy to hear it.” She kisses your neck, nibbling on the flesh. “Want to continue this, beautiful? Want to fuck?”

You nod eagerly, pratically whining. “Please! Please!”

Felicia laughs, helping you down from your ropes. “Such a needy little Mouse. You sure you’re not scared of this kitty cat?” She bites at you, teeth clacking against each other. You only breathe in response, chasing after her lips. She allows you to kiss her as she places you on your feet, your body pressing against hers. Felicia is taller than you, standing at 5’10. Her body is soft yet hard against yours, her breasts on either side of your face. The moment your hands were untied, you wrap your tingling arms around her neck, pulling her down. Her hands rest on your hips, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

Felicia’s soft hands rub up and down your heated skin, claws poking at you. Your heart flutters in your chest, knees turning to jello from her tentative touches. The kiss is long and slow, the two of you taking the time to get a proper feel. But soon, teeth clack against each other, her hands trailing down to grope your ass and bring your hips against her. The kiss is dizzying and sloppy, smacking noises echoing out into the room.

You’re the first to pull away for air, heaving as she licks your cheek. She attacks your neck with tender kisses, helping you to lay on the ground. Felicia stands on her knees as she undoes her suit, hungry green eyes never leaving yours as she strips naked. You prop yourself up on your elbows, breath catching in your throat.

Felicia’s body is gorgeous and alluring. Round hips. Perky breasts. The outline of forming abs. She hovers over you again, her nipples rubbing against yours. “Like what you see, Mousie?”

“I love what I see,” you rasped out, cupping her cheeks. Your thumbs swipe across the space beneath her eyes and you gently peel off her mask to get a better look of her beauty.

Felicia leans back down to kiss you, lips smacking against each other. She hums, fire burning deep within her core. She loves how cute you are. How gentle and sweet you act towards her—yet so needy. She grabs the back of your knee and lifts it up, placing her own knee right next to your waist. Her pussy slowly rubs against yours and you gasp against her lips. She swallows your noises, laying your leg on her shoulder. Clits bump against one another, pussies drenching each other with slick.

“Ready, Mouse?” Felicia asks, her lips lingering on yours.

You nod, blinking your shiny eyes up at her. Your chest rises and falls with your heavy breaths, lips parted slightly. “Please, Felicia.”

“I love how polite you are. Makes me want to keep you as my little pet,” Felicia teases. She straightens her back, tongue darting out to lick her lips, and begins to grind. Your back arches, eyes rolling to the back of your head as her pussy grinds against yours.

Yes, you’ve had sex with women before, but this session with Felicia is nothing compared to the other times. This one is more intimate, sensual, and heat inducing. Her clit grinds perfectly against yours, her juices spilling into your velvety warmth. Her breasts bounce slightly with each movement of her hips, yours rocking back and forth on your chest.

“Ah!” you moan, reaching up to squeeze her breasts. She smirks in approval, pushing against your cunt roughtly. You twist and pull at her nipples, hands dropping when she sneaks a finger between your lips to play with your bundle of nerves. “Oh, fuck! Yes! Felicia, feel s’good!”

“Yeah, Mousie?” she purrs, sweat beading along her body. With every grind against each other’s wet pussies, squelching noises elicits from them, juices coating the other one’s plush thighs. “Love how my pussy feels against yours? Hm?”

“Oh, Felicia, it feels so damn good!” you scream. The joints of her fingers squeeze your clit, shaking it. You pant heavily, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as she plays with the button. Moans and mewls escape your wet lips, body squirming as her cunt continues to grind against yours.

“Ahh, do you hear how filthy you sound, Mousie?” she coos, adjusting herself so her fat pussy buries itself a bit within your folds. “Who makes you this way? Huh? Has anyone else ever made you sound like such a dirty slut or is that only my specialty?”

You pant like a bitch in heat, drool covering your chin and neck. “Ngh! You! You, Felicia!”

“Yeah? Tell me how much you love my pussy, little mouse.” Her fingers wrap around your neck, claws poking into your flesh. She smirks a bit when she hears a heavy thud towards the end of the room, footsteps making their way over to this scene. She tightens her grip, making you whimper. “I said tell me, you cute little whore.”

“Ah, ah~! I love it! Fuck, I love how wet it is against my pussy!” you cry out, wrapping your fingers around her wrist and smiling as she chokes you slightly. The overwhelming pleasure is becoming too much again. The familiar coil tightens in your stomach, and you’re a bit embarrassed by how you’ve reached your oragasm so quickly, but who cares? Felicia’s—

“W-What is going on here?” A deep voice says in pure shock.

You freeze, all moans cutting off and head snapping up to see who’s here. A few feet away from Felicia is Spiderman, the red outline where his eyes are supposed to be wide in surprise. He’s in his blue UMF suit, the fabric sometimes twinkling. He blinks a couple of times, shifting on his feet, unsure of what to think or do. He’d been informed of Black Cat taking a cilvilian hostage, which he found strange. She never usually takes anyone hostage, as she’s quick and fluid in her antics. But he believed she was only doing this to get his attention. Right up until he found her doing you.

Felicia slows the movement of her hips, peering over her shoulder with a smirk.

“Spidey! Took you long enough,” she giggles, hand on her hip. She clicks her tongue in mock disappointment, raising a brow at him. “You do realize that I had a hostage, right? She could’ve been in real danger here.”

Spiderman looks you over and you shudder, cheeks burning in a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. Somehow, the hero walking in and discovering you two in this position is enticing. Being caught makes your hole clench tightly around nothing. “She looks fine to me,” Spiderman said, rubbing the back of his neck. The red outline of eyes were still wide, and if you squint hard enough, you can see a heavy blush beneath his blue mask. “Do…Do I even need to be here?”

Both you and Felicia stare down at his cock, which has been erected to full length. He’s clearly enjoying the sight in front of him. Two attractive women were having sex with each other—why wouldn’t he like it?

“If she’s okay with it,” Felicia informs him, returning her gaze to yours. She rubs your chin affectionately. “What do you say, Mouse? Want him to join, watch, or leave? Whatever you want, I want, cutie.” She then looks at him. “If she tells you to leave, you leave, got it?”

“Obviously,” Spiderman grumbled, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “What do I look like to you? Some weird, gross pervert?”

Felicia gestures to his erection and he only glares at her.

You do take a moment to think about it. The thought of Spiderman of all people fucking you is mind blowing. Of course, you’ve fantasized about his cock penetrating you over and over again until you were a sobbing mess, body coated in his cum. Then add Felicia into the mix? She’s already pleasured you wonderfully, her tongue like magic and her pussy creating delicious friction against yours. Honestly? A threesome with Black Cat and Spiderman is a dream come true.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, gaze switching from Felicia to Spiderman. “I-I mean, if he wants to join…I’m perfectly fine with it.”

Spiderman tenses up a bit, clearly surprised by your answer. His cock twitches in excitment. “A-Are you sure.” He walks over and squats down next to you. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle. “I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“He’s right,” Felicia whispers, caressing your cheek with her hand. “Don’t feel like you have to say yes. Besides, he’s a stinky man.”

Spiderman gives her another glare.

“I’m okay with it, I promise,” you reassure, looking at them both. “If I wasn’t, I promise I’ll say something.”

Felicia leans down to kiss your cheek. “Let’s come up with a safe word. If we’re going to continue with this, we’re going to need a safe word.”

Spiderman nods, his hand hesitantly reaching out to brush your hair off your forehead. He’s afraid to do anything that would make you uncomfortable or feel unsafe. As much as having sex with you and Felicia excites him, you come first. The pads of fingers were rough against your skin and you shiver, breath coming out in puffs. A gush of arousal spills from your slit and you purse your lips, embarrassed at how turned on you are even though nothing is happening just yet.

“You come up with the word, Mouse. Say it anytime, even if you’re so close to finishing. We both want you to have a fun, enjoyable time,” Felicia tells you. Neither Spiderman nor her move, waiting for you to come up with a safe word.

“How about…blueberry?”

“Is it because he’s blue?” Felicia gestures towards Spiderman and he rolls his eyes beneath his mask, landing a smack on her ass. She yelps, cheeks flush as she gives him a sensual stare. “Been awhile since you’ve done that, Spidey.”

Spiderman’s mask disappears, fevealing a handsome man beneath. Your breath catches in your throat for what feels like the millionth time tonight. God, why are they so hot? He grabs Felicia by the chin and brings her close to his face, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Kitty, tonight, there’s going to be a lot I’m going to do that I haven’t done with you in a long time,” he said huskily, kissing her. She hums in delight, kissing him back with a fierce hunger. He growls, his fangs poking through his lips. He squeezes her plump ass, landing another smack. He pulls away and turns his gaze to you, the pupils of his red eyes blown out in arousal. “And you,” he said, leaning down to hover his lips above yours, “I’m going to show you a lot of things.” His lips ghost yours for a bit. “If you’re okay with it, nena.”

“Mouse,” Felicia corrects, climbing off of you to sit by your side. She places a hand over your twitching stomach, lightly squeezing the soft flesh. “Her nickname is Mouse, or Mousie. Because look at how much she shakes. Isn’t that so cute?”

“Cute,” he agrees, staring at you with hunger in his red eyes. He plants his lips on yours more firmly this time, gently kissing you. “She’s very cute.”

Hands rub along your waist and stomach, sending wavepools of heat into your core. “What’s your name?” you ask Spiderman, eyes fluttering shut when his bare hands knead your mounds.

“Promise not to tell?”

“I-I promise.”

He pecks your cheek, smiling against your skin. “Miguel, little Mouse. My name is Miguel. I believe you’ll put it to good use, right?”

“I know I have before,” Felicia purrs, winking at the hero.

“Well, uh, It’s nice to meet you, Miguel.”

Miguel chuckles, kissing your cheek again. “It’s nice to meet you too, little Mouse.” His suit disappears, revealing his naked, rock hard body. Your hand instinctively rubs his abdomen, fingers tracing the lines between his abs. He watches you as you take the time to get a feel of his body, his cock twitching upwards against his lower stomach.

Miguel’s cock is erected at a full ten inches, his girth thick. Veins pulse at the sides of his massive penis. Precum leaks from his fat tip, the pearly breads streaking down his shaft. You’re tempted to lean over and lick him clean. Felicia also has the same desires. She sees the look on your face and smirks. She rubs Miguel’s chest and pushes him to sit back, arching her back as she gets on her knees.

“Hmm, let us take care of that for you, Spidey,” she purrs. You immediately scramble onto your hands and knees, eyes never once leaving his cock.

Miguel leans back on his hands, a smirk on his face. He gestures towards his member. “Go ahead, girls. He’s all yours.”

Felicia wraps her arm around your waist and brings you close to her. “Shall we?” You nod at her, leaning down to give a kitten lick on his tip. The pearly white beads soak into your taste buds, the salty taste of his precum delicious. Felicia lowers herself to lick his shaft up and down, her drool trickling down his shaft.

Miguel groans, head falling back against his shoulders as the two of you lap at his cock. You hum, tongue swirling around his fat tip before wrapping your lips around it to suck. A spurt of precum shoots into your mouth which you happily swallow, peering up at the hero through your wet lashes. He’s trembling, the pleasure insanely good for him.

Both you and Felicia sloppily attach his cock with lips and tongues, making him tremble and moan. Pleasure crashes through his body. The muscles in his thighs ripple with every movement he makes. He grits his teeth, head shaking from side to side, a throaty whimper escaping his thick lips. For a moment, he takes in the sight of the beautiful girls in front of him.

Sweat makes Felicia’s almost white hair stick to the sides of her head and he pushes the strands out of the way, allowing her hair to fall down her back. Her skin is flushed red and covered in sweat, her plump ass high in the air as she slobbers all over his cock. Miguel rubs his knuckles against your cheek, red eyes staring into you as you go back to give his leaking tip special attention. He came here to deal with Felicia’s antics and ended up getting his cock sucked on by what he considers to be the world’s most beautiful women.

How did he end up being so lucky?

Felicia grazes her teeth along his shaft, teeth tracing the outline of his pulsing veins. She plants kisses on his cock, green eyes peering up to try to see his expressions. His brows are curled upwards, eyes beginning to roll to the back of his head. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips, spit trickling out and down his chin.

“Fuck, y-you girls are doing such a good fucking job,” Miguel moaned, claws digging into the wood.

His praises spur you on. You suck a couple of times on his tip before taking him into the warmth of your wet mouth, hollowing your cheeks. This elicits a loud groan from the hero, your clit throbbing in desire. You attempt to reach down to rub yourself until you realize you hadn’t touched Felicia. Not once. You kissed her and played with her breasts, but you didn’t give her pussy any of your attention. You gain the courage to snake your hand between her thick thighs and rub at her bundle of nerves.

Felicia moans against his cock, pressing her nose along the shaft. Her green eyes peer over at you in approval, licking her lips. “Hmm, feels good, Mousie. Keep—ah!—rubbing me like that. Fuck, such a good girl.”

Her own hand sneaks between your thighs to shove two fingers into your hole as she returns her focus back to the massive cock in front of her. You moan around Miguel’s tips, slowly grinding your hips down on Felicia’s fingers as they pump in and out of your velvety essence. Her thumb rubs your clit as she fingers you, creating more pleasure.

Miguel watches as his two girls pleasure each other as they pleasure him and he growls, licking his lips in pure glee. Fuck, this sight is delicious and it’s all for him.

Felicia lowers her head to lick his balls, swallowing one into her mouth. Her free hand massages the other testicle, her thumb massaging his taint.

“Fuck!” Miguel moaned out, biting down on his bottom lip.

You bob your head up and down on his cock, eyes shut as you suck him off. Your body trembles in pleasure and desire as you slobber all of his cock, your cunt spilling sweet nectar. You pick up the pace of your fingers, rubbing Felicia’s clit quickly. She moans around his balls, staring at you with such an intensity that you swear she was rutting her pussy against yours. A mixture of precum and spit spills past your lips and down his shaft, which you use as an opportunity to wrap your hand around his girth and stroke him. You twist your hand with each stroke, making the hero tremble beneath your touch.

“Just like that, Mousie,” he growled, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “I’m going to fuck you so good after this. Going to show you a world of pleasure.” He whimpers when Felicia takes both of his balls into his mouth. “And you, kitty, are going to sit on my face. I want both of you cumming all over me.”

“What do you think?” Felicia asks you, licking over his balls. “Should we give him what he wants? Or should we make him beg?”

You come off his cock with a wet pop to say, “Make him beg. I-I want to hear him beg.” You scoop up some of Felicia’s arousal and lick your fingers clean, the other woman doing the same thing.

Miguel lifts his head up, seeing the mischievous looks on both yours and Felicia’s beautiful faces. “Y-You can’t be serious.”

Felicia presses her cheek against yours, smiling innocently. “Oh, Spidey, but we are. I mean, if you want us to ride you, then you’re going to beg for it like the little bitch you are.”

One thing about Miguel: he’s arrogant and prideful. He has always been this way. Dominating at work and in bed. There’s no way he’ll beg to be pleased.

“Please, please let me fuck you two.” Oh, nevermind. “Felicia, I want to bury my face into that fat pussy of yours. I want to taste you again.” He grabs her by the chin and brings her up to his face, kissing her passionately. Her hands rest on his thick thighs, breasts rubbing against him. He then grabs you by the throat and brings you up to his face as well, removing his lips from Felicia’s to place them on yours. “Hmm, little Mousie, I want to feel your tight pussy on my cock. I want you to struggle to take me in at first and then go crazy. Please, you think you can do that? Please?”

Something about a big, buff man begging is such a turn on. You lick his lips, humming. “I think we can. Should we, Felicia? I mean, he did beg like a little whiney bitch like you wanted.” Miguel squeezed your ass cheek for that and you whimpered, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. But hey, no regrets.

“He earned it. Besides,” she began, shoving him down to the ground and hovering her cunt above his mouth, “he eats pussy as if his life depends on it.” She then looks over her shoulder, nodding towards his cock. “Take your time with him. When I first rode him, I struggled a bit. But after you ride the bull, you’re going to want to go for another spin.”

Miguel grabs Felicia’s hips and shoves her cunt into his face, taking a whiff before licking her hole. Felicia moans, her sounds of pleasure airy and high pitched. He keeps a firm grip on her rounded hips, his large tongue rubbing against her bud. He groans deeply, lapping up her secretions. The last time he and Felicia had any kind of sex was two years ago. Two years too fucking long.

As Miguel devours her pussy, you place your knees on either side of his hips and grab his spit covered cock, gulping. His cock is insanely massive. You don’t think you’ve ever had anything this big. But, as Felicia said, take your time.

It’s time to take on the beast. You rub the tip against your slit, electricity shooting up your spine. Fuck, this is going to hurt, isn’t it? The tip is already stretching you out and you haven’t slid onto him fully. With a deep breath, you begin to sink down on his cock.

Oh my.

He’s got a fucking monster cock.

Your head falls back on your shoulders as you cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, hips trembling violently. You further slide down his cock, mouth dropping agape by how full you feel. He’s stretching you out well, a bulge appearing in your lower stomach. His veins pulse within your gummy walls and his tip slides past the spongey spot within you.

Miguel’s thighs tighten when your walls continuously squeeze around his cock, milking precum out of him. Felicia lowers herself, hands on the floor as he eats her out. She grinds her pussy against his face, moaning out a series of ‘yes! yes!’ and ‘fuck, just like that, Spidey!’. Hearing her moans makes your pussy clench tighter around his cock and he has to pull away from her cunt.

“Mousie, please, stay still or relax,” he groaned out, his body trembling. “You’re going to make me cum.”

You’re not fully down on him yet, but you nod, freezing your body to allow him to calm down. You breathe in and out, chest heaving. Your cheeks burn in heat, sweat sliding down the sides of your face. His cock feels delicious inside of you and as you relax, your walls loosen, spikes of overwhelming pleasure attacking your inner core.

“Mm, I-I want to ride you now, Miguel,” you whine, growing impatient.

“Go ahead, you got the green light to continue,” Miguel said, returning to eat out Felicia.

With that, you finish sinking down on his cock, bouncing a bit when his tip pokes the entrace of your cervix. You take a moment to adjust before rocking your hips in fluid motions, moaning loudly. His cock rubs against your velvet walls delectably, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gushes of elixir spill out of your pussy with every bounce, skin slapping against skin. Streaks of white cream are left on his shaft with every pump.

Miguel O’Hara is having the time of his life. Eating out Felicia’s yummy pussy while your delicious pussy engulfs him in warmth. He’s so happy he decided to respond to her silly antics. If he hadn’t, it would’ve been another lonely night on his couch instead of fucking two beautiful women.

“Fuck, Miguel, g-gonna cum,” Felicia moaned, suffocating him within her thighs—just how he likes it.

“Ah! Ah! Miguel! Your cock feels soo good!” you scream, bouncing on his cock faster and faster, the coil from earlier returning. “Fuck! Ima cum! GOD!”

Miguel begins to thrust up into you, hips meeting hips. He wants the two of you to cum at the same time. Wants to be drenched in fluids.

Moments later, just as he dreamed, both you and Felicia orgasam all over him. You lean against Felicia’s back, gasping for air. Felicia removes herself from his face, sitting down.

“I think…me and Mousie should switch, right?”

“Oh fuck yeah.”

“I-I’m down for it,” you breathe. You remove yourself off his cock and sit on his stomach, shivering as his cum slips out of your slit and leaks onto his stomach. “But may I have a moment? Because fuck, that was amazing.”

The three of you take a moment to come down for your highs and recover. Then, Miguel is burying his face into your pussy, Felicia sinking down on his cock and bouncing. For the rest of the night, the three of you do a crazy amount of positions, fucking like wild animals. Sometimes, the three of you will either focus on one another or all pleasure each other at the same time.

Thank God for the online banking app not for not working, otherwise you never would’ve found yourself sandwiched between the hottest people in the multiverse.

#miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #across the spider verse #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #felicia hardy #felicia hardy x reader

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sashaisready · 7 months

Text

The Blood Pact: Chapter 1 - The Viewing

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Large double room and en-suite bathroom available in shared house in Brooklyn. Living with two male professionals. Rent reasonable and negotiable – call to enquire, ask for Steve – 555-6786

That’s all the ad said. You couldn’t help but be intrigued. After all, who even finds a roommate via the newspaper nowadays? You’d only found it because you were absentmindedly flicking through an old paper someone had left on your table in the coffee shop. In the last few weeks you’d spent hours trawling through apartment listings online, viewing terrible dump after terrible dump. Damp. Cold. Tiny. That one apartment with literal mushrooms growing on the ceiling. Another where the other roommates had clearly put a single mattress in a closet and were trying to shave a few bucks off their own rent. You’d met with potential roommates who all ranked highly on the awful scale – everyone from that potential serial killer looking guy who insisted you didn’t need a lock on your bedroom door, to that girl who kept jars of her toenail clippings on the coffee table.

Frankly, you were getting desperate. You weren’t looking for much, just a non-closet sized, clean bedroom that you didn’t need a lottery win to afford. But that was apparently a tall order.

You had been crashing on your friend Wanda’s couch for too long now. As welcoming as her and her boyfriend Vis were, enough was enough. Your break up with Peter had left you homeless. After a well-deserved period of mourning and ‘what the fuck?-ing’, it was time to move on. Move out. Give Wanda and Vis their space back, stop being a burden and get back on the horse.

…And that’s how you found yourself on the doorstep of a beautiful, nineteenth century townhouse in Brooklyn at 7.30pm on an autumnal Wednesday.

It was worth a shot, right? You genuinely had nothing to lose by now.

Maybe the room was perfect for you. Maybe they were hipsters who put the ad in the paper as a retro throwback thing. Maybe they were super old. Whatever, at this point as long as they were clean and not sociopaths you were willing to overlook all sorts of potential flaws. And rent was negotiable, so maybe you wouldn’t need a bank loan just to pay the deposit.

Steve had sounded nice on the phone when you’d enquired yesterday. Not super old. Friendly and sweet. Very polite. He had given you the address and directions. It was actually refreshing to speak on the phone, as normally your apartment enquiries took place over tedious exchanges via the SpareRoom app. When you told him 7.30pm was a bit of an odd time for a viewing he just explained that he and his roommate worked long hours throughout the day, so evenings were best. Fine. It was New York City, a night time viewing was hardly going to raise an eyebrow.

Even so, you were a young woman going into a stranger’s house alone at night. In the city. You weren’t stupid, you dropped your location pin to Wanda and texted her the address and details. Just in case.

You took a deep breath and rapped your knuckles on the front door. You’d done so many of these that they were almost muscle memory now. Be polite, charming, make them want to live with you. You stretched out your shoulders as you waited and took another look at your potential new home. The building really was beautiful, a classic caramel colour with period features. Tall with big bay windows. A whirring noise caught your attention and you spotted a security camera perched just above the door. It turned to face you before whizzing back to its original place. They were clearly security conscious, so that was a plus.

Moments later the door swung open to reveal a tall, handsome man who must’ve been in his 30s standing in front of you. He wasn’t at all what you expected, blonde and classically handsome, a rugged beard and bright blue eyes. A bit on the pale side, but then summer was long gone. Your gaze couldn’t help but switch to the muscles clearly lurking under his tight white t-shirt, before you caught yourself and looked back at his face just as quickly.

“Hi…I’m-” you told him, slightly flustered.

“Hey. Right on time, I’m Steve” the man grinned, extending his hand to you as you shook it and introduced yourself. You were struck by how cold his hand was, hoping it wasn’t a tell-tale sign of the lack of heat in the house.

Steve smiled warmly and gestured for you to come in. “Thanks for coming. Let me show you around, and I’ll introduce you to my roommate, Bucky”.

You nodded, following him mindlessly. There was just something about him…something magnetic. He was cute. God, was he cute. But it was something else. You had no idea what had come over you.

Steve enthusiastically gave you the tour, guiding you throughout the ground floor. The house was just as stunning inside as out, with clean white walls and a mix of modern and antique furniture. A blend of modern and classic art adorned each room but didn’t seem to clash. The whole place was somehow both pristine yet comforting, spotless yet lived in. He showed you around the enormous kitchen with its big oak table, then the kitchen island which would bring any Pinterest interior design enthusiast to their knees. Huge windows framed the sink, thick blinds were pulled down and stopped the evening darkness from creeping in.

“Wow” you muttered as you took it all in.

Steve chuckled. “Yep…we’re pretty lucky” he smiled.

He took you through to the living room which to no surprise was equally stunning, your eyes found a chic cream couch which looked comfier than any bed, but you knew you would destroy with food and drink stains in a matter of days if unleashed upon it. Your feet padded on the wooden floor as she showed you the fireplace, then the television unit custom built into the wall which you knew must’ve cost a pretty penny.

The tour continued and he showed you a bathroom (one of many) and utility room (no more trips lugging all your clothes to the laundromat…genuine bliss) before leading you up the winding staircase. The stairs each creaked underfoot and you noticed every single window you’d seen had been fitted with heavy duty blinds. Even the tiny ones which must only allow the smallest sliver of light in. A little odd. But hey, it’s their house.

Steve was animated and charming throughout the tour, pointing out his favourite parts and telling anecdotes about where they found certain belongings. Asking questions about you and your job. He took you to the first floor and walked up to a closed door.

“And this would be your room”.

He opened the door and you nearly gasped at the size of the place, an enormous bedroom with a huge double bed and antique wardrobe. The vast window was covered by the yet another ubiquitous blind.

“Obviously it’s looking a bit sparse right now, but you could really make it your own if you took the place. We don’t care if you paint or whatever” Steve added, smiling as he moved to open another interior door across the room.

“And here’s the bathroom. This would be just yours, Buck and I have our own upstairs”.

You couldn’t hold in the loud, appreciative whistle you made as you walked in - which made Steve laugh.

“Are you kidding me?” you scoffed.

The bathroom was enormous. Perfect white tiles, every inch spotless. A beautiful waterfall shower stood in the corner, a vastly superior upgrade to the slightly dribbly shower head over the bathtub at Wanda’s. Along the wall was an immaculate marble sink mounted with a stunning vanity mirror, and the pièce de resistance was a huge copper bathtub in the centre – so deep that you could clone yourself and fit at least three of you in there comfortably.

After taking in the impressive room you spun excitedly on your heel to face Steve.

“You like it?” he said teasingly, a flash of mischief darkening his baby blues.

“Like it? I would happily live in just the bathroom, never mind the bedroom” you practically squealed.

Steve laughed good naturedly at your excitement. He seemed to view you with slightly bewildered amusement, but it didn’t feel patronising or snooty.

“Great. So you’re interested?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “God, yes. I just don’t think I can afford it…this place is so nice…” you mumbled, the realisation of how much this must all cost sinking in.

Steve eyed you with interest. “Well, let’s see shall we? It’s negotiable. We’ll have a talk with Bucky and see what we can agree”.

You nodded again, following him out into the hall. You had fallen hard for the room. It was the best place you’d seen by a country mile, let alone the ridiculous plus of having a private bathroom. Steve seemed…nice. Normal. Well, aside from being insanely hot and you clearly having a weird crush on him which made you feel strangely dazed…but that was okay. You would get over your crush. If your biggest problem with him was him being too hot, you would cope. Especially for your own copper bathtub. You wondered what exactly ‘negotiable’ meant. And what about this Bucky guy? You and Steve seemed to get along fine, but what was the other roommate like?

“Uh…where do you sleep?” you asked as Steve led you back towards the stairs.

He flicked a finger upwards. “Next floor up, Bucky and I have our bedrooms there. I would take you up there but it’s not particularly interesting” he said dismissively as he guided you back down the stairs.

You thought it a bit strange that he had left out an entire floor, after all the rest of the tour was so thorough he’d shown you inside cabinets and drawers downstairs. But bedrooms were personal, you wouldn’t be in their rooms or their bathroom anyway – so you supposed it wasn’t relevant.

Steve led you into the living room and you were surprised to see the wood fire roaring, as if it had been like that for hours. You had been in here not a few minutes earlier and there wasn’t even a hint of a spark. Someone must’ve got it going in record time…

“Hi there, nice to meet you” came a voice from behind you.

You flinched, surprised as you hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room when you came in. You turned and your stomach dropped when you locked eyes with the owner of the voice.

There sat nonchalantly in an armchair was possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, every thread hugging his body perfectly. He had long chestnut hair slicked back into a small bun, and a jawline that could cut glass. A bit pale, like Steve, but it made his skin look porcelain. His lips were full and pouty, and you could see a glimpse of his shirt straining over his broad shoulders. What had stopped you in your tracks though, were his eyes. Perfectly cerulean pools that seemed to pierce into you, to penetrate your very thoughts and dreams. If you thought you’d felt a pull towards Steve, then this was like a blackhole – unstoppable and relentless.

You gawped open mouthed at him for a moment before remembering you were trying to impress and charm here, shaking yourself out of it.

“Oh yes, hi. You must be Bucky?” you managed to utter, extending your hand to his as you gave him your name.

He smiled back at you and for a split second you could’ve sworn he was smirking, entertained by how flustered you were. But it was a tiny glimpse, quickly swallowed by a more genuine smile.

“Yep. James Barnes, officially. But everyone calls me Bucky” he replied. His voice was soft yet deep. His hand was just as cold as Steve’s had been, you almost flinched as his cool flesh met yours.

“Ooh, I think you’re a little chilly. Hopefully the fire will warm you up” you stammered, still ruffled by the effect he’d had on you.

Bucky just smiled dryly in response, gesturing for you to sit on the couch as Steve slipped down in the armchair next to his.

As you sat you were suddenly aware of how warm it was in the room. How could he possibly be cold? It was sweltering in here with that fire.

“So it’s great you’re interested in the room” Steve began. “We just want to check our compatibility, make sure you’re a good fit. And then we can talk about rent payment, alright?”

You nodded, grabbing your purse and pulling some documents from it.

“Here are my last six pay stubs” you said as you passed the papers over to Steve, doing your best not to look at Bucky in case you had another meltdown. “I work full time, and I have good references from past landlords. So I can prove I’ve got a steady income and I’m good for the rent” you explained, with slightly more urgency than planned.

Steve nodded and looked at them briefly, but didn’t really seem to read them. He passed them to Bucky who seemed just as disinterested. Your heart sank, that wasn’t a good sign.

“So where are you living now?” Steve asked.

You giggled awkwardly and launched into the much shorter, less warts and all version of your break up and subsequent forced eviction. You explained you were staying on your friend’s couch but needed to move out, and that’s why you were house hunting now. Both Steve and Bucky seemed intrigued, studying you carefully as you awkwardly gestured with your hands, laughing nervously to fill the silence.

“Sorry to hear that” Steve finally said. “Break-ups are tough. Especially when you’re cohabiting. Did you just want different things?”

You nod. “Uh yes. I wanted to be in a relationship with him, and he wanted to be balls deep in other women while I was in the next room. You know, classic incompatibility”.

Steve looked at you sympathetically while Bucky let out a strangled laugh.

Up your hand went to your mouth as you realised what you’d said.

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that was…too much” you cringed.

“Don’t apologise. Sounds like you’re far better off” Bucky said sternly, his eyes practically burning into you.

You nodded, you felt your face flushing slightly from the intensity of his attention.

Your eyes must’ve been playing tricks on you in the firelight as they both men seemed to tense up for a second. But then it was over as quickly as it started.

“Thanks…I guess it’s all still pretty raw” you chuckled weakly.

They told you that they were business partners, dealing in antiques and doing some book restoration on the side too. They’d been friends for years, more like brothers really, meeting in the army and setting up their company after they were discharged. You were impressed, you didn’t know any former soldiers turned antique dealers.

They proceeded to fire questions at you. Standard stuff about your job as a copy editor, you explained you worked from home mostly and they said that was fine as they weren’t around much during the day and the WiFi was decent. Perfect.

They asked if you did any drugs or drank heavily. No and no. Maybe a few glasses of wine or a cocktail at the weekends.

Then they asked if you had any medical conditions they should know about. You cocked an eyebrow, unsure of why that was necessary information for a roommate interview.

“I’m sorry, I promise we aren’t trying to pry” Steve advised, noticing your discomfort. “And obviously you don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. It won’t affect your chances of getting the room. It’s just we had a diabetic roommate once who didn’t tell us, he went into a hypoglycaemic coma in the kitchen and we had no idea what was going on and couldn’t help him. He was fine, an ambulance came in time. But now we just like to know if it’s not too intrusive to share, just in case we ever need to help”.

You nodded. That made sense.

“No, no medical conditions”.

They smiled at you, then exchanged glances. Both of them looked at each other for a moment before nodding in unison.

“Okay, the room is yours” said Steve.

You couldn’t hide your squeal, your fists clenching in excitement. You almost wanted to run up and hug them both, but restrained the urge. You were already daydreaming about that tub.

“Oh wow, amazing!! Thank you” you beamed. “But what about the rent…?”

They exchanged another look before Steve spoke again.

“Well, you see. That’s where the more uh…unconventional elements of the contract kick in” he replied warily.

Your brow furrowed in confusion.

“The thing is…” Steve continued, his voice solemn. “We don’t need your money for the rent. We require something else from you”.

You frowned, suddenly uncomfortable. “Look, I know this is the twenty-first century but I don’t do stuff like that to keep a roof over my head, no matter how bad the rental market is” you spat, getting to your feet as you felt your anger rise. Who did they think they were?

Steve and Bucky shook their heads, laughing, which just made you madder.

“No, not that” Steve soothed. “We want your blood, sweetheart”.

You scoffed. “What?”

“Your blood” replied Bucky nonchalantly. “We’re vampires, Doll”.

You rolled your eyes. “What kind of sick joke…”

“We’re vampires and we need your blood” Bucky explained, cutting you off. His tone deadpan, as if he was explaining something as trivial as how to use the stove. “So you can stay here for free, no payment needed, we just need to feed from you every couple of days. We won’t take more than you can give. You won’t feel any ill effects, and you’re not in any danger”.

You laughed incredulously, clutching your face with exasperation.

“Really? Is this how you fuckers get your kicks? Pretending to rent a room so you can pull messed up jokes?” you hissed. You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Steve and Bucky seemed unfazed by your disbelief. They both watched you with merriment as you got up and grabbed your purse, stuffing your wage stubs back inside.

“You wanna show her or should I?” Bucky asked Steve.

“Knock yourself out” Steve replied dismissively. He reached for his phone.

As you headed to leave you had just managed to wrap your hand around the doorknob when Bucky was suddenly inches away from you in a single second.

You sputtered, turning to face him. “H-how did you get here so fast?”

You looked over at Steve who was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, unbothered by whatever was happening just a few feet away from him.

Bucky grinned. His eyes glowed yellow for a brief moment which made you gasp and slump against the door. You watched in horror as his canines grotesquely lengthened, morphing into something like animal teeth before your very eyes.

No, not animal teeth. Fangs.

At first you thought it was a prank, some sort of special effect or trick of the light. But it wasn’t, you saw it with your own eyes and you knew it deep down. This was real.

Suddenly it all clicked. Their inhumanly cold skin despite the warm house. The insistence on meeting at night. The way Bucky had soared across the room in half a second. The covered windows.

They were vampires.

“This can’t be happening” you muttered under your breath, your chest rising and falling as fear gripped you. You wanted to run but you couldn’t, your terror freezing you on the spot like a deer in headlights. Panic had overtaken you.

“Hey. Don’t get yourself too worked up, like Buck said - you’re not in any danger” Steve offered casually, not looking up from his phone.

“You’re safe” Bucky echoed, and you saw his fangs slowly switch back into normal, human teeth as they were before. It was almost like it never happened.

Almost.

“You wanna continue this? Or you wanna go home?” Bucky asked. He sounded annoyed, like you were somehow the unreasonable one here, wasting their time.

“You’d just…l-let me leave?” Your eyes widened with fear. “Even though I know your secret?”

“Sure” said Steve, as if it was nothing. He was much softer and gentler than Bucky. “We can hypnotise you into forgetting and send you on your way. You’ll just think the room was a bust and that’ll be it. You think this is our first viewing?”

You flapped your mouth open and close like a goldfish while they patiently waited for you to decide. It was too much. You couldn’t process it. Vampires existed?? Really? How could this be happening?

You wanted to tell them to hypnotise you, to erase all of this and let you go back to your life. You could return to blissful ignorance, rent a shoebox room somewhere else with actual humans. Human roommate toenail clippings and all.

But something inside you rebelled against all reason. A tiny voice of dissent amongst the otherwise harmonious chorus. You had no idea where it came from, it was against every survival instinct you had as adrenaline coursed through you. You battled against the urge to leave, to run as fast as you could out into the night and never look back. You couldn’t justify it, you knew it was stupid…but you listened to that tiny voice.

“Tell me more about how this works” you whispered, as your rational brain screamed at you.

#vampire bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #the blood pact fic #james bucky barnes #Vampire bucky au #Vampire bucky x you #Vampire bucky x reader

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sinon36 · 6 months

Text

Echoes of Salvation: Negotiations (Part II). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader

Part I

Warnings: none, really, just some casual fluff and domestic stuff, maybe some grammar error and misspellings.

Enjoy!

The story starts after the dash.

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.

Once you get back inside you notice the little girl fast asleep on the couch a peaceful look on her face. Bellamy keeps closely to your side not letting you move without following. The masked brute stands a few paces away at the other end of the sofa, his eyes carefully scanning over his sleeping daughter. Once satisfied that she is comfortable he turns to you and gestures towards the kitchen and for you to follow him. You wait a few seconds and keep a healthy distance once you start following him. Once inside he points at the door and you shut it. You look around searching for a safe place for you to sit now that you’re trapped in here with him. You decide to sit on one of the chairs the one with your back to the wall. Bellamy lays at your feet eyes glued to him.

He leans against the wall opposite from you, arms crossed over his chest. He watches you, studies your face for a while. You try to appear nonchalant at his cold fixating glare, but your hair stands up, goose bumps forming on your skin. He clears his throat ‘I have a few more questions for you’ he says voice just as gruffy as before. ‘Like wise’ you quip from your seated position.

'Have you had run-ins with the infected?'

‘I haven't seen any for the past few months. and even before that they are rare and far in between. And to my knowledge there isn't any other person alive around this area.’ You answer as truthfully as you can.

'You're pretty isolated out here. No neighbours within a decent radius?'

‘Only the Johnsons, Neil and Margaret, they used to live about a half a mile down the lake bank. They were a retired couple.’ You reply a little sad.

'Used to?' he asks intrigued.

'Yeah. They died soon after the infection started spreading' you shudder, the image of Neil coming back to you in full force.

'How did they die?' his head lens to the side as if to take a better look at you.

‘I found Margaret dead in their garage throat ripped out. I'm guessing that Neil got infected when he went to the market in the nearby town. When he got home, he must have turned and killed his wife.’ You fumble with your hands picking at your nails and avoiding his sharp gaze.

'What about the husband? What happened to him?'

You dreaded this question. You take a deep breath to steady your quick heart and face downward in shame. 'I Killed him...' you say after some consideration. 'He attacked me and Bellamy and.... I had to...' you mumble your words not wanting to remember anymore of that terrible day.

He watches you intently, there's no sign of surprise on his face. 'You did what you had to do. There's no need to look shameful.' He seems understanding, but something about his look causes a chill to run down your spine. 'How did you do it?' He adds softly.

'The hatchet. I was out cutting wood for the stove.' you keep mumbling, a distant look on your face as you focus your eyes on spot on the table cloth.

'I see.' He says without any kind of judgment in his tone. You find it hard to look at him at this moment. 'You didn't hesitate.' He adds.

'I did. I acted out in fear more than anything.' you say lowly rubbing the back of your neck trying to rid yourself from the cold sweat taking over you.

He continues to observe you calmly, as if trying to understand you on a more fundamental level.

His expression changes slightly, becoming softer, less intimidating. 'Was it hard? Taking a life?'

'Yes.' You say looking straight into his eyes tone genuine. 'But I'll do it again if I have to.' you admit to him hinting that you are not as weak as he thinks you to be. You did manage to survive all this time alone and it wasn't all luck. You worked hard to build and improve the defence around your house and make it sustainable for a long period.

He notices your determination, and for a brief moment, he seems to respect it. 'I believe that you would, I’m counting on it' he says, voice still low. 'How did you survive on your own for so long?' he changes the subject having made his opinion of you on that matter.

'I learned how to farm. When I first move here six and a half years ago, I bought books on how grow vegetables and some medicinal herbs. Margaret was kind enough to show me how to grow chickens, I have a few in a coup behind the house' you motion with your head in that direction. 'In the back, there is a small plot of land with an orchard. Apples and cherries. I also invested in solar panels. I still have electricity and running water. Though on cloudy days the batteries half charge. I have to keep an eye on consumption.

He nods slowly, taking in the information you have shared with him. He seems to be taking mental notes of your capabilities as a homesteader. He speaks again, ’What did do before shit hit the fan?'

‘I am a licensed architect so it was easy to design everything around here, the doing was the harder part' you say proud of what you managed to achieve.

'An architect', he repeats in a low, amused voice, 'and you chose to live in the middle of nowhere?'

He pauses. 'What made you come this far out?'

'I wanted peace and a quiet place surrounded by nature. Cities were to crowded for my liking. I never felt at home there. But here' you look around you, 'here is perfect.'

You hear him let out a breath, seemingly agreeing with your statement and your choice of location.

He studies you for a few seconds, then says, 'You don’t have anyone else? Family? Parents?'

'No.' the answer is short and a far away look takes over you. that is a story from another time. 'Where did you come from?' you turn the attention on him rather than giving anymore information about yourself.

He hesitates for a moment as if deciding whether or not he should share anything about himself.

'I'm ex-military.' comes the final answer, spoken in his usual blunt manner.

'That much I figured' you nod towards his uniform. 'Is she your daughter?'

He nods without saying anything further. There's a strange tension coming from his body language. He seems to be on high alert. He clears his throat as if he needs a change of subject. 'You said you are an architect?' you raise an eyebrow at that 'Yes, why?'

'Are you any good?' He presses, not beating around the bush and being direct with his question.

'Um... as good as they come, I guess!?' you tell him not trying to appear humble.

'So, what is your specialty? Residential? Commercial? Industrial?' he asks very specific.

'Residencial, but I do have some knowledge of the rest. Why do you ask? You try to understand were the sudden interest in your carrier choices come from.

'Just curious.' He says casually, but something in his eyes suggests that he's interested in finding out more. 'And that cottage you're living in.' he points at your house. 'You designed it?'

'Yes' you say eying him suspiciously. His questions were awfully precise. But once again he changes the direction of your conversation wanting to know more about your house. He asks you about the house, the structure and the layout, how you keep warm, where do you get wood for the fireplace.

'You're pretty self-sufficient.’ He concludes. ‘How often do you have to go out for supplies?' his question catches you by surprise. Ever since you saw the news about the outbreak you haven’t ventured anywhere close to civilization, afraid that you’d encounter infected and be ripped apart.

'I haven't really left the property in the past year. The further I go is the lake for fishing. Most of what I own comes from the time when things were delivered to your door or post office. I used to buy items in bulk.' you shrug, it made more sense to you that way. ‘There was no reason for me to leave. Plus, there is a lot of work to do around here, animals to feed. Which reminds me of something…’ you say fixing him with a hard stare mirroring his own. He waits for you to continue.

'You'll have to pull your weight around here. Food and accommodation are not for free.' You set clear boundaries. You may be kind enough to let them stay, considering the threats he’d flung your way earlier, but you won’t be taking advantage of.

He sighs almost offended by what you said, ' I don't plan on freeloading.' He assures you. 'Good' you intend to hold him to his words. He grunts in acknowledgement before going on to speak, 'I hunt regularly, and I know my way around a gun. I'm capable of offering protection.' He says in a serious tone, almost like a pledge. His military training is showing.

'There is not much fighting to do around here, but I'll keep in mind.' you say with a chuckle. It'll be fun seeing him do household chores. You wonder if he'll keep the mask on while feeding the chickens or picking apples.

'I do have one last question.' He says, suddenly sounding more unsure of how to phrase it. You nod at him to go one whipping the smirk on your face and

'If our partnership is to work…’ he pauses seriousness taking over him like a heavy veil, ‘you will have to abide to my one rule.' You sit up a little straighter, your attention fully on him.

'My girl comes first. In a survival situation, every decision I make will rely on her safety. No negotiation.'

You nod your head in agreement. 'Got it. I'll try my best not to get in your way.' You promise tone filled with sincerity.

'Good.' That seems to conclude the interrogation. He seems to relax a bit, and his demeanour is less hostile than before. He rises to his feet and turns to walk to where his daughter lies on the sofa. You watch as he drops his gun and knife on the table and sits on the armchair guarding the sleeping girl.

You let them settle in while you busy yourself with chores. you go out to feed the livestock you keep, collect any fresh eggs, and tend to your garden. The sky begins to darken, wind picks up. you can faintly hear thunder cracks in the distance. It's going to rain tonight, you muse to yourself. You quickly finish your work outside making your way inside. Once in your living room you notice the absence of masked stranger. He is nowhere in the house. You put down the basket you filled with fresh vegetables on the kitchen table and approach the sofa. The little girl stirs awake and looks curiously at you.

'How are you feeling, darling?' you ask in a warm tone smiling gently at her. The little girl rubs her eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep in them. She then looks up at you once again with her adorable big eyes. ‘A bit tired’ she says before yawning.

'It's understandable, you went through a lot out there. What happened to you?' you ask pointing at her bandaged arm The little girl looks at you for a moment as if thinking what to tell you. 'I got hurt by a bad guy's dog...It bit me.' She tries to sound brave but you hear the quiver in her voice.

'Oh... that's awful. Would you let me take a look at it?' you say softly siting down on the couch next to her. ‘Yeah…’ she nods. She holds out her arm for you to take a look at.

On her arm, you can see the puncture marks. They don't look like a human bite mark and that makes you sigh in relief. They were telling the truth. But what worries you is the yellowish liquid oozing out of it. That and the fever indicate that the wound got infected. 'How long ago did that dog bite you?'

‘About three days ago...’ She says quietly. ‘...It hurts now more than before.’ her soft, innocent eyes are filled with concern, fear and worry. ‘...I feel hot...’ she added. 'Let's clean it and rebandage it, okay?'

'Okay' she says with a small, relieved smile. You fetch a med-kit and some disinfectant and begin to clean the wound. It's a bit irritated from the infection. She seems to be in good spirits despite the pain.

You try to comfort her by keeping her mind occupied with conversation while treating her wound.

'How old are you?' you ask her as you wipe her arm with some alcohol blowing a little over it to ease the burn. 'Nine!' she answers earnestly with a toothy smile as she looks up at you, still enduring the sting of the disinfectant. 'What's your name?' you ask remembering that you haven’t been properly introduced so far. 'Olivia' she says with a soft, cute smile. 'What's your name?'

You tell her. 'I haven't met anyone else with that name before' she says pensively. 'Well, we don't really meet many people anyway. Just infected.' she says with a sad sigh. 'Yeah, me either.'

You finish treating her wound and re-bandage it. A shiver runs through her little body causing her to tremble. ‘Are you cold?’ you ask, reaching your palm to her forehead. She is indeed a little feverish. ‘...A bit.’ She mumbles with a small shiver.

You stand up making your way toward a small closet where you keep some blankets. You pick a fluffy one and hand it to Olivia. 'Here you go, sweety'. She smiles brightly as she accepts the extra layer and buries herself in it. 'I'll go grab some firewood to get a fire started.' You announce heading for the door. Just as you reach for the door handle, the door opens and there stands the tall dark figure of the man, his hands full of firewood. 'Oh...' you say in surprise as you step aside making way for him to enter. Outside rain is pouring. He puts the wood in the fireplace and starts working on the fire. You close the door and watch in silence as he works. In no time a well-built fire heats the small house casting a warm glow from the fireplace. The shadows flicker on his face, the white mask adding a level of horror to the otherwise cozy scene.

‘Thanks,’ The little girl says softly to him, to which he only grunts in acknowledgement.

You quietly make your way to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Bellamy lays on the kitchen floor quietly supervising the two strangers in your house through the open door. The dinner you had in mind this morning included fish but you were rudely interrupted, so you'll have to settle on chicken with a side of veggies. You work quietly and efficiently, casting a glance once every few minutes in the living room. You see Olivia tiredly saying something to the masked man and him leaning back, the chair reclined, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching you prepare dinner. Soon, everything is ready, and three plates of steaming food lay neatly on the kitchen table. You walk into the living room to invite your involuntary guests to dinner.

The tall man is sitting on the comfortable armchair, the little girl lays on the sofa next to him, propped up by the pillows. As you enter, they quiet down and stare at you. He slowly stands up, holding out a hand to the girl, but she swats at it and raises by herself with a huff. He says nothing and he follows you two the kitchen. For how big he is he his movements are fluid, calm and quiet. You can barely hear his footfalls.

The little girl sits next to her father and digs into her plate burning herself in the process. 'Take it easy, kid.' he gently admonishes her. It's a weird scene seeing him at the other end of your small table, still in full gear watching the two of you eat in silence. Earlier he was threatening to kill you, now he sits in your kitchen hands rested on his knees watching like a hawk and frozen like a statue. You cast a few glances at him wondering if he'll take the mask of to eat but he remains unmoving. Perhaps later when I’m not around you think to yourself.

You try subtly glancing at the masked man, now that you sit in awkward silence. The little girl eats hungrily, she seems to love the food. Her blue eyes are focused on her plate, but you notice that she also seems to sneak in a few glances at her father while she chews. They look at each other as if communicating solely with their eyes. Perhaps they could, after spending so much time together in situations that require keeping quiet and nonverbal communication. You’ve notice so far that he prefers gestures instead of words. Once she’s finished eating the girl turns to look at you 'Is there any dessert?' her question is followed by a small burp and a quiet laugh. Her father pumps his knee audibly into hers under the table and throws her a pointed look. ‘What?’ she feigns innocence. You chuckle at their antics watching them bicker.

'I have some cherry jam if you're interested.' you offer with a smile.

'A bit, please.' she replies. Olivia’s eyes are sparkling while her father looks as unimpressed as ever, while you prepare a few slices of homemade bread and spread jam on it. She sits closer to him whispering something in his ear. He bands down and you watch as he whispers back.

She seems to be a very attached child, and you wonder if that is a consequence of all the trauma she has gone through. His manners on the other hand seem a bit less harsh, slightly more relaxed, although his dark gaze still lingers on you as if his prepared for you to rush him or something.

After you finish eating you collect yours and Olivia's plates and dump them in the sink to wash them later. You then turn towards Olivia 'How about we get you out of those dirty clothes and give you a warm shower? you ask motioning upstairs were your bedroom and personal bathroom are. She looks at her father with a look of silent plea.

'Go on.' he says quietly with a nod. She gets up, excited to get a warm shower, the prospect of getting cleaned and changing clothes is too much for her to resist. Olivia runs up the stairs followed quickly by you, leaving the man alone to eat.

A few moments after you are out of sight, Simon takes off his balaclava and puts it on the chair where his daughter sat. he grabs the cutlery and just as he’s a bout to start cutting into the chicken he stops, feeling eyes on him. He casts his eyes at the door where your dog watches him curiously head tilted to the side and years pointed up. ‘What?’ he grunts in annoyance, and the dog gets up and leaves the room. With a sigh Simon starts eating, he can’t remember his last proper meal that didn’t involve expired cans of beans.

Once in the bathroom, you turn on the shower and set the necessary water temperature before stepping out to wait for her. You go inside your bedroom searching for some clothes that will fit her better than what she has. Her soiled clothes go straight to the bin. They’ll need a proper wash for sure. You wait by the door for her to finish. You can hear her saying something to you through the cracked door.

'I don't remember the last time we had warm water' she says from behind the shower curtain. 'Were you on the road for a long time?' you inquire curious to know more about them, and now taking your chances with Olivia who is chattier than her father.

'Yeah...We've been on the move and camping for a while now in abandoned houses.' she replies as she turns off the shower and steps out. She is wrapped in the towel, her wet hair sticking to her forehead and with a shy, bashful look on her face to which you can't help but smile at.

'Come' you motion for her to go inside your bedroom 'let's get you dry.' She happily obliges and you both step into the bedroom.

You help her dry her hair and then you give her some privacy for her to change into the new clothes. By the time you are done, she is completely dry and wrapped in a cozy sweater and shorts. She looks really pretty now that she’s clean, her pixie cut framing her round face perfectly.

She smiles at you and then starts looking around the room. Your bed is made, covered in cream linen bedsheets, your bedside table is nicely decorated with some flowers from your garden, and your desk is neatly organized.

A few books and magazines laying at the corner of the desk that catch her attention. She walks closer looking at the covers curiously. You notice her looking at a particular magazine cover, it shows a woman holding some gardening tools and a child playing nearby.

'Do you like gardening?' you ask her.

She shrugs. 'I don't know', she answers sincerely. Right, if they were moving from place to place, they didn't have time for that. Probably didn’t have time for many other things. The realization dawns on you. Growing on the run in a world full of monsters must’ve been rough on her, not really being able to be a child, always on high alert.

'Maybe you can help me tomorrow in the garden if you feel better.' you offer kindly. 'That would be nice.' she replies earnestly, her warm smile lighting up her adorable face, making her look like a normal kid.

'Okay, for now, let's get you settled in the bedroom downstairs.'

'Alright… but can I ask you something?'' she looks up at you scuffling her feet, the wool socks you gave her sliding and pooling at her ankles. 'Sure thing.' You turn towards her and wait for her to voice her question. There's a brief pause in which she mulls over, seemingly struggling to form the right words.

Finally, she speaks, 'Why did you accept us in your house? She takes you by surprise. You pause, looking around, giving yourself time to think before you answer. 'It was the right thing to do. You needed help.' You say conviction in your tone.

She nods a little bit, still unsure. 'But you don't know us...you could have just closed the door on our faces. It happened before. People keep their things for themselves out there.' She arguments.

Your heart falls a little, your hopes in humanity crumbling. You knew people could be selfish at times, but now they really turned borderline savage and hysteric. 'People can be like that when they feel threatened.' you admit.

'But you aren't?' she follows up your statement with a question. You hesitate a bit, her eyes are focused solely on you, their innocence and naïveté are so endearing it somehow breaks your heart.

'I try not to be.' Your answer seems to have raised even more questions. She is curious to know more. 'Why? Why do you try not to be like the others?' she tilts her head as if trying to solve you like one does a riddle. 'I don't know. It just doesn't feel right to me. I think people should be kind or at the very least not violent with one another.' Your philosophical reply is met with more confusion. '..So why did you let us in?' she asks earnestly. She doesn't understand why someone like you would extend a warm generosity to perfect strangers who have nothing to offer when the same kindness is so scarce.

'Well, your father did threaten me with a gun.' you give her a more appropriate answer, something she understands better: violence. She sighs. Her adorable little face drops as she realizes that her father's actions might have put you in danger. 'Oh.' She remembers your earlier encounter, her father's less-than-friendly approach to strangers seems nothing new to her. ‘Right…. He's protective, he has to be.' she promptly excuses his actions, her expression a little troubled but at the same time, she seems to understand. 'But he's not a bad person' she quickly adds.

'I didn't say he was.' you remind her. She nods her head a little, still thinking about it all.

She is very smart, it is evident that she is much more aware of her surroundings than the average kid her age, you wonder what she would grow up to be, and what kind of adult she would turn out to be in such a harsh world. You imagine she will be a spitting image of her father, cold and ruthless.

You gently lead her down the stairs and to the guest bedroom ending your conversation. Once you reach downstairs you notice that her father is missing yet again. 'He's probably outside smoking. He never does it when I'm around though. He says it's bad for the lungs. But I don't understand why he keeps doing it' she confesses. She sounds more like an adult than a child. She has probably matured fast due to the circumstances, but that doesn't change the fact that she is still so young.

She still needs guidance, she still needs help figuring things out. Even as she speaks of his flaws, she is quick to excuse him and defend him, she loves him and looks up to him so much. It's almost like she sees him as two different people, one good and one not-so-good. You wonder if that is just her way of trying to cope with his actions.

'It's a bad habit people tend to have when they are stressed' you tell her. You remember your college years going to bars with colleagues and smoking a few cigarettes from your friends. But you never bought a packet.

'Do you get stressed?' she asks you, seemingly trying to see if you are the same as her father.

You take a few seconds to think it over, but her innocent, naïve gaze is hard to lie to.

'I do.' you confess, '…Sometimes. But I do other things to relieve the stress.'

She looks at you curiously, you can tell that she is looking to you for advice on how to deal with stress or she’s just looking for options for her father. 'What kind of things?' she asks, her voice filled with childlike wonder and curiosity.

'Well, gardening is a good way. Bellamy likes to help.' at the mention of her name, your companion leaves her guarding post by the fireplace and approaches the two of you. Olivia hides a little behind you at the sight of the dog. 'Don't worry, she won't bite you, I promise. She's really friendly with people. Look...' You crouch next to her and stretch your palm towards her nose. Bellamy starts wagging her tail eager to be petted.

Olivia watches you cautiously, but then sees how Bellamy loves to be petted and she can't help herself from being curious. She cautiously puts her soft little hand forward, hesitantly touching Bellamy on the cheek. The dog allows it, and soon Olivia warms up to her and starts petting her.

She smiles at you as she does that, then she speaks. '...Does she like me?' she whispers loudly as if the dog might understand her. 'I think she does' you playfully match her tone.

Olivia smiles even more, petting Bellamy even more enthusiastically. 'What kind is she?' she asks, showing a bit more enthusiasm in her voice. 'She's a Border Collie. She is a dog meant to herd sheep and keep guard from other animals.' '…She must be very smart.' Olivia says as she continues petting her, her voice is full of curiosity and admiration as she says that. 'She is' you say with a tone of love for your sole companion. ‘Dad told me that the dog that bite me was German Hepard. A guard dog.’ She informs you the way children do to prove they are just as knowledgeable as adults. ‘Shepherd. German Shepherd.’ You correct her with a small laugh. ‘That’s what I said.’ She counters with an incredulous look on her face at you for not taking her seriously.

Olivia slowly yawns her eyes hooded with exhaustion. 'Let's get you in bed' You guide her towards the bed pulling the covers and allowing her to get in. Once she settles comfortably you put the back of your hand on her forehead checking for any signs of increased temperature. to your relief, her fever went down a little. It means that the pills still have an effect even after all these years. 'Good night' you whisper to her as her eyes flutter closed. She nods, tired from the day's events, and slowly closes her eyes as the sleep starts to take over her. '..Good night..' she whispers to you with a sleepy voice before she falls asleep.

You quietly sneak out of the room, closing her door softly behind you. You can still hear her soft snoring coming from inside the room, and a little smile forms on your face. You know she feels safe with you, and that warms your heart a little. You then head towards the kitchen, Bellamy in tow, only to discover that there are freshly washed dishes on the drying rack. You hum to yourself in appreciation. He may be a hulking terrifying military man but he has manners. You chuckle at the thought, despite the cold and aloof vibe he gives off, he still manages to surprise you with small gestures like these. It's clear that no matter how rough he seems, he does have a softer side to him.

Bellamy follows you next, and the two of you make your way outside. The rain has stopped, but there is still no sign of the man. He seems to like to disappear like a ghost. you scan the area around your garden, which is now damp with the fresh rain. Further outside, from the fence to the outside world, the darkness envelops everything. The light from your house is not strong enough to penetrate outside your garden. You take a deep breath the air humid and refreshing. The clouds hide the stars, you wish the sky was clear so you could map out the constellations with your finger, a favourite pastime of yours during the summer nights when the air is too stuffy for you to fall asleep.

After a while, the gate opens, and the masked man walks in, rifle slung on his shoulder, strap gripped tightly in his hand. The white skull on his face is the only thing that reflects enough light for you to make it out. A shiver runs down your back at his frightening attire. No wonder other people turned them down. He looks more like a serial killer from a horror movie than a human being. As he comes towards you, you can't help but wonder out loud 'Why the mask?' you watch him as he approaches you.

He doesn't respond to your question. Instead, he looks you up and down, studying you for a moment before he speaks with a firm voice. '..To hide my face.' He states in an obvious manner.

You stare at him dumbfounded the look on your face most likely betraying your confusion at his answer. He walks past you a small chuckle audible enough for you to catch it. He goes inside without another word. He's such a hardass... you think to yourself but you follow after him locking the door behind you. He looks around, most likely looking for his daughter. 'Olivia is asleep in the guestroom.' you point your thumb over your shoulder at the door. He stares at you silently which makes you really uncomfortable. 'You can make yourself comfortable here. My bedroom is upstairs...' you inform him awkwardly.

He stands there, not uttering a word, not even moving an inch, just looking at you, his eyes searching your skin and face, analysing your body and appearance with a prodding, cold, and distant gaze.

After what seems like an eternity, he finally utters a few words in response to you. '..That'll do..' he dismisses you with his usual monotonous and stern voice.

You nod and go up the stairs. once inside the room, you lock the door and sit on your bed. You stay like that for a while trying to comprehend today's events. You're unsure how things will play out between you and the masked man downstairs. You only hope that it won't interfere with the peaceful life you've built for yourself here. After what feels like hours have passed, you rise and start digging in your closet for pyjamas and a towel. You'll take a shower, hoping it will wash away the unease that seems to overtake you.

As you strip away your clothes and step into the shower, the warmth of the water fills your body as it washes away the cold. You let the hot water run over you for a while, allowing yourself to relax and forget the tension still lingering around you. After a few minutes, you step out and dry off by sliding your towel along your wet skin. Feeling refreshed and cleaner, you pull on a comfy set of pyjamas before returning to bed.

Once under the sheets, you close your eyes and try to fall asleep. Unlike Bellamy who snores peacefully on the rug next to your bed, you don't have such luck. You stare at the wooden ceiling above you. The house is dead quiet and you try to focus your hearing in hopes you'll catch something from outside your room. A few minutes pass when you can distinctly hear the faucet of the downstairs bathroom sink. You keep listening trying to imagine what he's doing. He's probably washing up, you think. The house creeks as the wind outside starts to blow. Soon after the rain starts once again, the sound of raindrops hitting your window finally lulls you to sleep.

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