#I think back to me then and I was so clueless and naive and baby compared to now

[girlvinland]

Idk if this is silly, but when I see people in their early twenties who are desperate to find their “person” and “start their life” in that way I just want to shake them and be like oooomg shut up you have so much fucking time and please enjoy every moment you can have for yourself without another person even in the picture. Please just learn about yourself without enmeshing yourself with someone else and make yourself the biggest priority of all!! There is way too much emphasis on needing to quickly find “the one” (which is a stupid concept anyway when there are 8 billion fucking people on the planet and people who could love you are everywhere) and I hate how it’s like societally ingrained in us.

#by bug #I can’t believe I felt like that too like we’re all so fucking stupid imo #I would give so much to have most of my twenties back as a single person and I mean that fully #like romantic relationships are way too prioritized idk #I realize we all gotta make weird decisions tho so we can learn from them later #this isn’t about any one person or vagueposting btw I just kept seeing posts like that on reddit and lex and was like cmon #you’re 22 you’re like an infant taking its first steps into the world #I think back to me then and I was so clueless and naive and baby compared to now #I wish I could go back and tell myself to not tangle my roots with another person until I really knew myself more #and to take my time with basically everything so I could explore every option

[joelsgreys]

fall into temptation | three

Post Outbreak Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high. 

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter. 

His youngest daughter. 

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still. 

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit. 

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none. 

Still. 

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation. 

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him. 

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told. 

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs. 

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.  

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you were underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

#fic: fall into temptation #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #post outbreak joel

[personasintro]

come for me | jjk

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it's a first proper date he's supposed to plan, unfortunately it does not go according to his plan

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, neighbors au, enemies to lovers (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, protected s*x, little spanking, rough and quick s*x

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k+

a/n: this is one of the secrets I've been keeping and god it's finally here!! i wasn't even planning on finishing this today but I did and I'm so happy to share it with you! hope you like it <3

↳ previous parts

Jungkook is convinced the entire world sucks.

What should be considered as the most exciting time for some men, Jungkook finds it as a literal torture. Planning a date shouldn't be so tough. He has never truly done it before – not when he truly meant it. Whenever he went out for what could be considered as a pathetic attempt at a date, its purpose was clear. To fuck and end it with a mind-blowing orgasm on both parts. 

He has never done it like… this. 

Fuck.

Just the thought of it makes him want to throw up. He definitely can't mention that to you – who's pretty much clueless about his thoughts and would kick him in the balls if you knew. 

“I don't know dude, you should bring her roses.” Taehyung proposes, watching his friend in a mild panic as he bounces Ruda in his arms. 

“She's not like other girls.”

“What do you mean? Every woman loves roses! You can't go wrong with that!” Taehyung protests, offended that Jungkook rejected his idea right away. 

“I wouldn't say every but yeah, it's the effort that counts. Plus, she knows you've never done this before.” Yoongi joins in that conversation, shrugging nonchalantly while Jungkook nibbles on his bottom lip. 

Fuck! This is not like him. 

It's already enough his friends share an amused look, one he definitely notices and finds really offending. They find this entire thing very amusing while Jungkook is having a midlife crisis. 

“Okay, maybe forget about the flowers. What does she like?”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowns.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “What things does she like to do? Does she like to eat? Likes to watch movies?”

Jungkook's a little taken back by those questions, a clueless expression clouding his face while Taehyung snorts in the background. He's too busy trying to think of a proper answer to glare at him in return. 

“I–I don't know,” he admits.

“You don't know?” Yoongi deadpans, “Come on dude, you gotta know something.”

“I don't know!” he exclaims in distress, causing Ruda to babble as if to remind him she's there. He shoots her an apologetic look, looking back at Yoongi. “We never really discussed that kind of stuff. We fucked. That's what she likes for sure.”

“Should you talk like that in front of the baby?” Taehyung points out, met with another glare that shuts him up. 

Ruda is too young to understand. He'll take care of his bad mouth by the time she understands, he naively thinks to himself.

“Then just fuck her.” 

Jungkook stares dumbfoundedly at his friend and his stupid idea. “Seriously? I'm supposed to take her on a date. Beats the whole purpose of it if I just fuck her instead.”

“Look at him, so much progress.” Taehyung mutters amusingly, causing Jungkook to grab one of Ruda's plushies and throw it aggressively at Taehyung's head. 

“Then just take her somewhere and fuck her after. If the date is awful, at least she gets her world rocked.”

They both start to laugh while Jungkook whines loudly, a groan following right after. “You guys are fucking with me. Literally, you're no help.”

“JK, we can't exactly help you when you have no idea what she likes. Maybe you should find out first and then think of something?”

“Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?” Jungkook mocks, doing a little stance with his arms while Ruda is in his hold. “Very smart, Yoongi. I don't want to make it seem as if I don't know what I'm doing.”

“What's so wrong about that?” Taehyung questions, “You just ask her what she prefers and it'll be easier to plan something.”

“Yeah, he's right.”

Jungkook sighs, pinching his brows. Ruda starts to fidget in his hold, causing him to sit down in a chair. He hands her one of her rattles as she starts to wildly shake it in her tiny hands. 

“Won't I look pathetic if I just asked her?”

“You literally look pathetic right now.”

“Taehyung, God help me–”

“Just ask her.” He cuts him off. 

Somehow, he made it sound easier than the thought of it is. 

The next time you see Jungkook is when you bring him the dinner you cooked. You haven't had that much time to see each other, with you working and his sleeping schedule all over the place, you had to settle with a message for the time being. It hasn't been that long, only like three days since he asked you on a date.

You're not going to lie, you feel a little giddy thinking of it. It's weird because you can't imagine the famous Jeon Jungkook on a date. If someone mentioned the words date and Jungkook in the same sentence, you would laugh them off. But now that it involves you, you find it almost flattering. He's taking you on a date. 

You. 

And no one else. 

You want to devilishly cackle at all those bitches that got to fuck him, wanted something more with him. Realizing that's kind of evil, you humble yourself because nothing's sure yet. 

Since this is very new to not only you but Jungkook as well, it's hard to have any say when it comes to the future. You're trying to prepare yourself for any outcomes but it's tough. Tougher than you think it would be. The idea of this failing makes you weirdly sad and you can't stand it.

However the sight in front of you completely brings you to other thoughts. You've never been someone who would thirst over dads. The whole DILF thing discussed between women was a pure fantasy, something they would romanize or even sexualize. Not that you were purely against it. Are women who find young dads hot that bad? 

The potential man would have to be hot in order to find them being a young dad hot. Some men just have that spark. And you've never really met one even remotely close to Jungkook.

And there he is. 

He opens his front door, hair slightly raffled and messy, as if he hasn't brushed it the entire day. He has one of his oversized gray shirts on, a map of spit or whatever that is decorating the thin material. He has a baby cloth draped over his shoulder, momentarily widening his eyes at the sight of you. 

Then realization hits him and he steals a glance at the watch around his wrist. He forgot you were supposed to drop in for dinner. 

Other than he looks fucking hot, even in his messy state, you also find him adorable how he stares at you with big doe eyes before he ushers you to come inside. 

“Where's my favorite baby?” you ask excitedly, keeping your tone down just in case she's sleeping. It's awfully quiet in Jungkook's apartment. 

“You make it sound as if you knew dozens of them.”

You give him a look, hearing him chuckling as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Rude.”

“She's sleeping,” he answers instead, but a cocky grin is attached to his moisturized lips. “She's been a little cranky this night,” He lets out a yawn. “Barely got any sleep.”

You pout at the thought of it. “You should've told me. We could switch or something.”

He stares at you dumbfounded as if you just came up with the craziest idea. Perhaps it is one. 

“You have a job, Y/N. I can't let you have a sleepless night.”

He has a point. Even if you were willing to spend a sleepless night helping him, you wouldn't really help much since you have to wake up early in the morning. You can't babysit during the day, unless it's the weekend. And babysitting during the night so Jungkook can sleep, even if for a few hours would cause you to look like a zombie the next morning.

You love your sleep. But you're willing to give it away for Ruda. And Jungkook. 

Jungkook ends that particular topic, leading you further down his apartment and to his kitchen where you place the containers. “It's tomato sauce pasta with chicken and basil. Not exactly a trophy winning menu but I tried to cook something quickly.”

“Fuck, I'm so hungry,” Jungkook whines, opening the container as he inhales the scent, a steam coming off it since you just finished cooking. “Thank you. It smells amazing.”

“No worries, I told you I wanna help in any way I can.” you assure him. 

He motions for you to sit down, already pulling out a glass for you where he pours you an apple juice. “Have you eaten?” he asks, already digging his fork into pasta.

“It's hot, be careful,” you warn him, even though the steam itself is enough of an indicator that it's indeed very hot. But Jungkook looks as if he's ready to swallow the entire thing with no thoughts. “And no. I came directly here but no worries, I will eat when I come home.”

“Nonsense,” Jungkook waves you off. You watch him stand up and before you can complain, he pulls out a plate for you and opens the other container you had prepared for him for tomorrow. “Here, let's eat together.”

“Jungkook–I have my food at home, I just came here to drop this–”

“Stay for a while.” he says simply, looking too irresistible and straight into your eyes for you to object. 

“Okay.”

You dig into the food, not realizing how hungry you've become once again. Your entire apartment smells like tomato sauce, garlic and basil. You hope by the time you come there, the opened windows did their job because you would hate to sleep in a smelly apartment. 

When you were cooking, you inhaled the smell a lot so naturally, you didn't feel as hungry anymore but now the hunger comes back. Without any argument, you both eat in silence while trying to talk about your days. 

You and Jungkook haven't really talked that much before. You both know what you spent most of the time doing. That's changing and it is a pleasant change.

It does feel slightly odd to be talking about casual stuff like your work. But once Jungkook takes over and talks you through their day. He's got a lot on his plate. He has a baby for fuck sake. He looks exhausted, yet his eyes are sparkling and he doesn't make it sound as if he's complaining. He informs you, even laughs at Ruda's cranky mood and what work she makes him go through. 

You're done and Jungkook takes it upon himself to clean the dishes and give you back your food containers, even though you told him it can wait. He protests and while he just as much protests with you cleaning the mess in his living room, you do it anyway.

There are toys and a few dirty and empty bottles laying around. There's not that much of a mess and it's done shortly after Jungkook finishes dishes.

You both decide to hang out for a while before you have to get home, take a shower and prepare yourself for the night. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you about something…”

Jungkook starts unsurely, arm outstretched behind your seat on his couch as you're cuddled to his side. You could fall asleep like this.

“It's about our date.”

You pull away slightly to look at his face, “Are you backing down from it?” you muse, watching the way his face turns into panic and that alone tells you that's far from the truth. It's enough to let you relax as you giggle.

“No!”

“Then what is it?” you ask, cuddling back but in a position where you still can see him. 

“What do you like to do?” he asks, a little awkward as he scratches the back of his head. “It sounds fucking stupid but I was wondering where to take you and I realized–we never talked about this stuff. And I–” Don't want to mess up. He doesn't finish.

Something warm collects in your chest and you try to hide a smile, not wanting him to feel as if you're finding him amusing or anything of that sort. Actually, you find him endearing. He's showing you a side of himself that you've never seen before.

“Whatever you plan, I'm sure I'll enjoy it.” You settle on saying, not having anything particular in mind which is not a help at all. 

“Come on!” Jungkook whines, “I'm trying here. I've never done this shit before.”

“Did you just call our date a shit?” you tease him, watching him open his mouth before he closes it and glares at you.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know, I just love teasing you,” you muse, met with another glare which causes you to giggle silently. “I've never seen you like this. I'm quite enjoying it.”

“Yeah, make fun of me.” he scoffs a little.

Realizing this might not be just as fun and humorous as you make it seem to be, you also realize this must be important to him in a way. Your smile drops and you sit up, watching him slide his arm off the couch and into his lap. He stares there thoughtfully, avoiding your gaze.

“I'm sorry, I didn't think you would worry about it this much,” you tell him gently, “Depends on what time we would go on a date.”

“I called my mom and she can babysit until 9PM. She has to go back home after that.”

“Hm, okay. And what time are we meeting?”

“I thought maybe around… four?” he says, stealing a glance at you as your purse your lips in thought.

“How about we eat somewhere nice–nothing fancy!” you warn him, not really sure if he's the type to go all out since he has never done this before. 

But still, you want to make sure he doesn't spend a fortune on a single date. Plus, you would like to pay too. Not because he has a baby and other expenses, but because you're independent. You don't need a man to pay for everything.

Maybe eventually it would be nice to get spoiled a little. But at the moment, you can't imagine it. It wouldn't seem fair considering what a position he's in now. There's a little human here that needs more of everything than you do.

It's not something you've had to come to terms with, you've understood it from the beginning. Jungkook is a dad now. And it has a certain baggage with it. 

“And then we could do something–I don't know. Maybe we could think about it after? To see what we're in the mood for.”

“You sure you'll be okay with it?” he asks unsure.

He's met with a confusion as you pull back and say; “Why wouldn't I be? I just suggested it.” you giggle.

“Just askin'. I've never done this before.”

“So you said.” you tell him, standing up. “I would go and check Ruda but I don't want to wake her up. So kiss her for me, okay?” 

Jungkook looks like he's ready to protest, perhaps telling you to stay a little longer or even night, knowing it might be too soon for you. Once he checks the time, he remains quiet and the pout is the only thing visible on his face. 

You lean down, kissing him on his cheek. “Don't worry about the date too much, okay?”

He hums, though keeps his pessimism to himself. You wave at him for the last time and it's until he hears a soft click that he's once again alone with his daughter. The one that announces herself shortly after you leave. A loud sigh leaving his mouth as he stands up and goes to check on her. 

“What do you mean you can't come?” Jungkook shrieks, so out of his character that even his mother on the other line stays silent for a second.

“I'm sorry, Jungkookie. They canceled all train connections because of an accident.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing his mother scolding him but he pays her zero attention. “Can you grab a taxi or something? I'll pay for it.”

It's out of his budget but he's desperate. 

“No, it's too expensive plus I wouldn't be able to make it in time. You know how it is here. It's hard to find a taxi.”

He groans, rubbing his face frustratedly as he stares out of the window. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He had it all planned. Even though you talked about getting food, he thought a lot – embarrassed to say – he even googled a few spots that were recommended around here. He would let you choose and maybe you would be able to visit them all within five hours that you would have for yourselves. 

But now everything's out of the window. 

“I could come tomorrow?” She tries to help, but Jungkook shakes his head.

You can't tomorrow. There's some kind of family party you need to attend. 

“No, it's fine, mom. I'll call you later.”

“I really am sorry, Jungkookie.”

He starts to think of every single thing that he knows. Every person gets on his mind and he wonders if he should call them. In a moment of realization and reality hitting back to him, he realizes he can't just call anyone to watch over his daughter. He sits down in disappointment, realizing how selfish that would be of him. 

He can't call Yoongi or Taehyung. They would not be able to take care of her and he would spend the entire date worrying, probably leaving to check on her. That's completely out of the question. None of his other friends, that probably fuck around as we're speaking would be able to help him.

None of his family members are around. Plus, they still haven't met Ruda – most of them – for some reason he thinks it's too early. He's still in a stage of trying to figure out to be a father. 

It's only his luck that his mom calls him from the train station, having no other way to come here. Just because some dumb fuck decided to jump in front of the train. 

He stops.

Fuck, he really is selfish.

He takes it back immediately, having more compassion now than ever since he has a whole baby to raise and take care of. 

You're supposed to be here any minute. He had it all planned. 

His mom should've been here soon, he would briefly talk her through Ruda's routine. He trusts her. She raised him and could surely take care of a baby. Plus, Ruda's sleep is better these days and she's too little to make a fuss about her dad not being here. 

When a knock resounds on his door, his entire stomach churns and he prepares himself for the disappointment that he seems to be. It's even worse when he opens the front door and you stand there, fully prepared in a short dress. Your hair is neat and nicely done, so is your make-up. Not that you aren't pretty either way, but he can definitely tell the extra effort you've put into yourself. 

It truly makes him feel like the biggest asshole. 

You smile, telling him something but he can't hear. He just stares, both out of awe and then frustration when he realizes what he's about to tell you. 

“What's wrong?” Your smile drops, making a note of his weird expression of pure sadness. 

“We can't go on a date,” He forces the words out of his mouth.

It's weird how his heart drops when you suddenly grab the strap of your bag, looking as if you're shielding yourself from him. 

“It's–My mom just called and she can't get on the train.”

“Oh,” you let out. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, um–come inside.” he says, gently grabbing your wrist as he pulls you inside. He doesn't need any nosy neighbors witnessing this very uncomfortable and awkward situation. 

You stand in his entry way, looking around in awkwardness as he scratches his temple.

He's obviously styled and prepared to go out. You've noticed his nice outfit right away. He's wearing black slacks with a casual white t-shirt tucked inside it. His hair is trimmed and styled back. You can smell his aftershave and hair gel along with his cologne. 

Clearly, he hasn't stood you up and what he's saying is the truth.

It's not like you doubt him but well – all of this is new and maybe it wouldn't be so out of character if Jungkook panicked and decided to make a lie to save himself. 

“I'm so sorry–I really had everything prepared for tonight. And it's completely ruined. I fucked up.”

You frown, staring at him for a second. “You didn't fuck up, Jungkook.” you tell him softly. “It's not your fault.”

“I thought of calling one of my friends, but they're not able to take care of Ruda–I can't just let them–”

Probably they wouldn't even want to babysit, now that he thinks of it.

“Jungkook, it's totally okay. I understand.”

“I can't let just anyone watch over her.”

“I understand,” you emphasize softly, smiling at him. “How about we take her with us?”

Jungkook's head snaps in your direction, looking at you as if you're crazy. “You wanna take a baby with us? Nothing against Ruda but–we're not gonna be able to enjoy it. She will cry eventually and I had plans–I can't possibly imagine taking her there–it's too much work.”

He panics and you need to get a hold of his shoulders to stop him.

“We don't have to take her to the restaurant or wherever you want to go,” you inform him, “We could just take her for a stroll and see from there? If she's gonna cry and be cranky, we'll just come back.”

You're not a mother yourself, but somehow you can empathize with his situation. He hasn't taken her out for too long, not onto too many public places. Until you count grocery stories and nearby parks. He's by himself most of the time. While he finally got the hang of the feeding, bath and sleeping routine, the thought of suddenly taking her there makes him unsure. Even though he knows he'll have to do it eventually. 

“Plus, I will be there. It's gonna be the two of us.” 

Something about that specific line makes him pause as he watches you. You give him a look, wondering what's the stare for but he just smiles. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you assure him. “Nothing's ruined. Plus, I think I'll prefer Ruda's company there too.”

He looks at you suspiciously, almost like he doesn't believe you. And perhaps he doesn't. But you giggle. “I'm serious. There's gonna be time to enjoy ourselves alone.”

“I–” he stops, “Wow. Okay. I'll prepare her and we can go.”

“Great,” you smile, “I'll prepare her stroller. Do you have any formula prepared?”

“Yeah, had one prepared for mom. It should still be warm.” 

You both jump into action. Jungkook takes Ruda out of her cradle that he bought for her and has its place designed in his living room. She starts to wake up, her little face twisting as you coo at her while you walk past them. You prepare the bottle and stroller, watching Jungkook put her there as you bring some extra clothes for her just in case. 

You're out of his apartment in a record time, fully prepared as you shoo Jungkook and take the stroller. He walks beside you with a teasing smile, but there's a huge relief and content behind it. 

Jungkook's nerves are put at ease. 

Not only you but the situation proves to him that he can still go and eat out, even with a baby. Ruda has been like an angel. Once she's awake, she just stares around before she falls asleep shortly after. You feed her in a nearby park which slowly lullabies her to sleep.

After walking and getting to know each other's interests through stories, you find a nice restaurant where you can eat outside. It's not probably what Jungkook had planned but it has its own magic. 

Stroller kept next to you at all times, you fill up your stomach and even sleeping Ruda gets a few compliments along the way.

“Aw, what a cute baby! You have a very pretty baby.” The waitress tells you, beaming from a distance at sleeping Ruda, causing you both to smile.

None of you correct her. Why should you? She's a stranger and it doesn't matter what she thinks. You understand why she would think you're a family. It's a standard here. Nobody expects single dads out here. 

Well, not so single anymore. You hope.

“Thank you.” you smile at her in gratitude, eyes dropping to the sleeping angel that's next to you. Okay, maybe you appropriated Jungkook's daughter but he doesn't seem to mind. Actually, it seems like he's enjoying the sight in front of him.

“Your daughter is a star around here.” you tell Jungkook once the waitress is gone.

He chuckles, “Stealing my spotlight from birth.”

“Oh, she definitely helps you catch even more eyes.” you muse, watching him laugh in confusion. “Everyone's staring at you. All those women we walked past. They're thirsting over you.”

“Are you sure it's because of Ruda?”

You roll your eyes while grinning, “So cocky as usual.”

“What? I've always caught a female's gaze if that's what you were saying.”

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes again, “But there's something hot about a young hot dad. You're a DILF now.”

“Don't call me that.” he groans, causing you to laugh.

“Either way, it does bring you attention whether you like it or not.”

“Doesn't matter, I only like your attention,” he says. 

The two of you share a look as Jungkook cringes while laughing while you shriek in both excitement and disbelief. You probably look like a crazy couple. “That was smooth!”

He laughs, “I'm trying. I'm not romantic.”

“Are we having this conversation again?” You lift your brow. “Anyway, they can only look. You're on a date with me.”

It's a diplomatic way to say, aiming at something that hasn't been discussed yet. This is your first date after all. None of you have a certain plan. 

Yet, you're sure to admit that you don't like the attention Jungkook gets. 

“Does that make me your boyfriend?” he asks, tasting the way that words sound out of his mouth. 

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Hell yeah. If it means repelling all the men from you, I will be anything.”

You laugh, “You sound jealous.”

“Because I am,” he says, throwing a piece of sweet potato into his mouth. “I want you all to myself.”

“Hm, I'll think about it. Ruda has a place in my heart too.”

“I can share with her.” 

You both share a giggle together, something you've barely done before. 

“Does this make it official?” you question.

He shrugs, “If you want it to be. I know I do.”

“Me too,” you tell him giddily, sounding like an excited teenager. “I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Do people get together on a first date though?” he asks, finding you staring dumbfoundedly at him. “No, I'm serious. I really wanna know.”

You sit back, taking a sip of your drink. “Who cares? We kinda did it backwards anyway.”

“True,” Jungkook hums. “Who cares.”

Throughout those four hours of getting to know each other more, the connection between you grew some more. You've found out about Jungkook's secret hobby which is graphic art. It kind of explains the love for his tattoos as well. He's no longer just the boy that partied and fuck his way through his years. Actually, he's not that at all.

His guilty pleasure is eating snacks in the middle of the night, though he really tries to restrict himself from doing so. It's tougher to visit a gym these days, one of his obvious hobbies that you've already known. But he talked more about that and there wasn't a minute that it felt awkward or uncomfortable.

Ruda has been a pleasant company as well, her cuteness making both of you laugh and giggle. You were kind of bonding over her as well. Until it was starting to get darker and the two of you have decided to get back. 

On your way to the apartment complex, Ruda has pooped which proved your decision to go back to be right. Jungkook invites you to his place, not too keen on ending your date just yet and you agree. Though, you have to wake up early to pack your things and get ready for your cousin's birthday party, you don't want to leave them. 

You offer to take Ruda's nappy but Jungkook refuses, thinking it might be too much to ask of you but truly, you wouldn't mind. You try to tell him that but he just shakes his head, tells you to sit down and make yourself at home.

Shortly after, he comes back informing you that Ruda fell asleep. He joins you on the couch with what sounds like an exhausted sigh. The two of you share a look, both chuckling, silently of course because there's a baby sleeping in the other room. 

“Did you like it?” 

Jungkook fills up the momentary silence, voice slightly unsure and nervous.

He glances at you sideways, quickly looking away as he clears his throat.

“The date.”

“I did,” you giggle, nodding. “I really did. Thank you, it was very lovely.”

He allows himself to smile, mentally patting himself on his back for this going so smoothly. To be honest, he expected a disaster. It began like that, so he can't be blamed for expecting it to continue. But he's pleasantly surprised. 

Too happy about today. 

He feels like a freaking teenager and he gets this weird fluttering in his stomach. Urgh! He's not sure how he feels about it because it's new.

“Though you could've let me pay at least for the botanic park–or the museum.” you tell him, giving him a dirty but teasing look. 

You've really managed to visit many places Jungkook prepared for you. At first – which you're clueless about – he wasn't sure how to feel about it because he never went to a freaking museum. Maybe when he was on a school trip. It was totally involuntary, of course. But he caught himself enjoying it – and maybe it was because you were there – but he realized he doesn't mind enjoying himself, knowing it's because of you that he was able to. 

“No can do.” Jungkook shakes his head, teasing you some more which makes you groan. 

“I will pay next time.”

“Next time?” he teases, wiggling his brow.

“Aren't we dating now? It's what couples do, going on dates–”

“We are,” he hums. “What else do they do?”

You smirk, inching closer to him as you cuddle up to his side. He welcomes your touch, throwing his arm around you as he pulls you even closer while he doesn't take his eyes off you.

“They kiss,” you whisper, noses bumping into each other as you let your lips linger over his. Not quite kissing him but then it's too irresistible, he is, that in the end you press a soft kiss on his lips.

“They cuddle,” you continue, “Fuck.”

Jungkook chokes on his spit, “Don't say it like that.”

“Is Jeon Jungkook getting shy?” you tease, kissing his jaw. “You know a lot about fucking.”

“I–fuck–I do,” he agrees, voice sounding almost choked up. He tries to concentrate badly, he really does, but you're making it too hard when your kisses trail down his neck, making more parts of his body alive. “It just makes me–”

“What? Horny?” you tease and he groans.

“Well obviously,” he rolls his eyes, hands on your hips as you sit up and straddle his lap. “Wait–”

“Why?” you pause, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

“No, wait, wait, wait–” He quickly says as if he could read your thoughts. He can surely see the starting embarrassment and the way you pull away, putting distance between you. “I really want nothing else than fuck you.”

“But?”

Jungkook presses his lips together, “I wanna take it slow. Won't it ruin if we just fuck right now?”

You give him a look, slightly caught off guard. “Why would we? We've done it before multiple times.”

“Yeah, we did but… but it was different, you know?” he says and weirdly, you do know what he means. However– “I just don't want to fuck this up.”

Your eyes soften, taking Jungkook's face into your hands as you press a soft kiss to his lips. “You won't fuck this up, Jungkook.”

“You don't know that.” He frowns.

“Well, yeah. I meant it in a more encouraging way. You're trying and I can see that. I do appreciate it.” you confess to him, silently and softly as if saying it out loud will make it embarrassing. You're a little sheepish when it comes to confessing such things. Talking deeply and emotionally with him. “I personally don't think us having sex tonight will ruin anything. But if that's what you're worried about, we don't have to. What I wanna say with this is–I respect it.”

He watches you, eyes clouded with restraint and desire. Currently having an inner battle with himself, he sighs and leans his head back.

“Plus, I think it's cute.”

“Cute?” he deadpans, moving his head down to look at you. 

“You're cute,” you admit, giggling at the look of disgust on his face. “This really means something to you.”

“Does it not to you?”

You laugh, “Of course it does.”

He smiles, pulling you closer as he's the one who kisses you now. “Fuck, you're really making this hard.”

“Not just this.” you point out, wiggling your brows at him when you shift in his lap, feeling his hardening length under you.

“Stop!” he shrieks silently in horrification.

You giggle, “We could watch a movie instead. Or talk.”

He rubs his lips together, eyes dropping low. For a moment, the two of you only stare at each other. There's desire, lust and impatience clouding the air around you, just as much as it fills your gazes. Jungkook's eyes are the first ones to drop down your lips. Staring at them painted in a nice shade that compliments your skin tone. They're moisturized and never looked so tempting. He's not sure. He can't think straight right now. 

“Fuck movie.” he pants, grabbing you by your sides and pulling you onto him. 

The kiss is no longer soft and minimal, you both practically throw at each other letting your bodies act upon their biggest temptation. The making out is messy and fast, no longer staying at that as Jungkook lays you down and starts kissing you down your neck. 

“Fuck, that feels good.” you gasp, moaning when Jungkook lowers down your dress and starts sucking the skin on top of your breasts. 

You arch into his touch and warmth, craving for every inch of him. It leads you to become even more impatient, ushering him to take off his shirt. He does and you immediately salivate at his pecs and muscles, hands trailing down his back and abs.

“Fuck, almost forgot how hot you are.” you confess. Okay, that might be a lie. It's hard not to notice how Jungkook glows with hotness, even if there are traces of exhaustion every day. 

“Oh, you forgot?” Jungkook teases, “Should remind you.”

“Mhm, you should.”

And boy, he does. 

In a split second, the dress is ripped off you and thrown somewhere on the floor, underwear followed right after. You complain about Jungkook's upper body still dressed, though there's something incredibly sexy about him wearing slacks with chest on full display. It's almost too shameful that he turns you around, getting you on all four. 

Both of you go completely feral. The position making your ass arch as Jungkook delivers a slap to it. He stops for a second though, freezes and waits for any sound coming from his bedroom. You watch him relax as he continues, a little smile playing on your lips. 

You hear him unzipping his slacks, not wanting to get the sight stolen from you so you turn around and stare at the scene in front of you across your shoulder. He smirks, noticing you watching as he reaches toward his coffee table.

Once he pulls out a foil packet, you give him a look with raised brow. “How did it get there?”

“My wallet dropped the other day and someone rang the door, I panicked and put it there.”

You laugh at his story, wondering if he's telling the truth. He looks like it though and quite frankly, you don't care. 

“Turned out to be convenient.”

“It did, thanks to whoever rang that day.”

He smiles, not elaborating any further as he takes off his remaining clothes. You hear the familiar sound of foil ripping and before you know it, Jungkook's tip pokes you at your asscheek. 

You might be already impatient enough, both of you too hungry for one another, but you also know there is no time to fool around when you now have the chance to have sex. Any second Ruda could wake up and put an end to your and Jungkook's desire. Seems like he knows it too because he gives you an apologetic look.

“It's okay, just fuck me.” you assure him with a moan, arching your back for him. 

He spits on his fingers, stretching you out with them and you sigh in content at the feeling. Giving you a few pumps to make you at least somehow prepared for him, you whine his name in ushering him and silently telling him you'll be fine.

That's all it takes for him to enter you, both of you swallowing down any set of curses and sounds. Jungkook pulls back just for him to thrust into you. He finds a perfect rhythm, rocking your bodies fast and roughly.

Jungkook growls, “Holy shit.”

He slaps your ass, trying to keep it down as you both giggle in the middle of it. It's soon cut off by his thrusts you try to meet. Giggles get switched by silent moans and pleas. Everything is heated and rushed, both of you ultimately aiming to orgasm knowing it could get interrupted any minute. Keeping that in mind, you don't hold yourself back and neither does Jungkook.

Despite your situation, he does not refrain himself a few slaps to your ass which only brings you closer to the end. 

“Jungkook–”

“Fucking hell, I wish I could hear you moaning and screaming.”

You wish you had more time, though you don't regret it happening now. You wouldn't have it any other way. Thinking that you both would have to wait for each other sounds like a proper torture. 

“You're fucking creaming my cock–fuck.” he groans silently, seeming to have as much as struggle to keep it down. 

Still, it's kind of hot to experience it. You never had to keep it down. Sure, there were many times when you specifically had sex and tried to be silent because of neighbors. With Jungkook, you never cared about neighbors before. Not that much at least.

“Fuck–I'm almost–there.”

“Come for me.” Jungkook grunts, hands gripping your ass so much that you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow.

And you do. Not even five seconds later, you bury your face into his couch and let moans disappear into its material. Jungkook follows right after you, not being able to hold it for much longer as he comes inside the condom. 

He stays inside for a moment, softening slowly as he carefully helps you to turn around. He sits back on his knees, condom soiled by your cum and juices but none of you move. 

You stare at each other, smiles coming up at the same time as you silently giggle. 

This is the best date ever.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #dilf!jungkook

[sage-green-matcha]

VAMPIRE- ETHAN LANDRY 🩸

“Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire” - Olivia Rodrigo

Content includes: Blood, knife, biting, like lowkey gruesome.

<3

<3

<3

“Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise. I loved you truly, gotta laugh at the stupidity”

“Ethan?” Your eyes squinted in shock as he smiled back at you, Ghost mask face in hand. “Hi baby, you weren’t expecting that were you?” Tears filled your eyes as Tara held you close, your heart shattering at that exact moment.

“Cause I've made some real big mistakes. But you make the worst one look fine. I should've known it was strange, you only come out at night”

“You’re fucking evil! You squirmed under his touch, your face sweaty and covered in Kirby’s blood. “Don’t be mean sweet thing, I hinted at this the entire time. Don’t act stupid now” You didn’t put two and two together, it still didn’t make sense. You were blind to it, absolutely clueless. Your admiration for him got in the way and now he was the one admiring you. Blade to your throat, pretty face covered in the liquid that Ethan yearned for.

“l used to think I was smart. But you made me look so naive”

You felt so dumb, stupid. Love blinded your vision and now that you wiped your eyes it burned, bad. “There were so many signs y/n, come on” Sam shook her head “The attack? The masks? Don’t tell me you didn’t think something was up” Sam cried as Quinn slashed her arm, holding down the bloody wound. “No…” your eyes looked exhausted, too tired to fight Ethan off of you.

“The way you sold me for parts. As you sunk your teeth into me”

You squirmed as Ethan bit down on your shoulder, a loud and agonizing scream coming from your lips. “You know I like the taste of blood” Ethan mumbled, spitting out the chunk of skin he had bit from your shoulder. “What the fuck?” You felt woozy, absolutely out of it. The sight of blood made your vision blurry, feeling yourself drop to the ground.

“Bloodsucker, famefucker. Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire”

A/n: not my pookie killing me

#ethan landry #fanfic #jack champion #scream #celebrities #cute #jack champion x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x y/n #avatar #vampire #twilight #olivia rodrigo #jack champion fluff #jack champion oneshot #jack champion scream #jack champion angst #ethan landry angst #scream vi #scream franchise #jack champion x y/n #ethan landry scream #vampcore #celebs #scream 2023 #samantha carpenter #detective bailey #quinn bailey #ethan bailey #ethan kirsch

[ickadori]

“You don’t think this is crazy?”

“Me coming to see my son is crazy to you?”

“When you have to break into my house to do it, yes.” You rub the sleep out of your eyes with one hand, the other clutching onto your phone as your thumb hovers over the dial button, the number for emergency services already punched in. “This is a felony - breaking and entering.”

“I didn’t break in. You made me a key.”

“And asked for it back months ago.”

“And I gave it back.”

“After you made a copy of it, yes.”

Taiju grins, you scowl, and the one year old in his arms curls closer to his chest. The sight of your son snuggling up to his father, the comically large man looking nothing short of silly in the dinosaur themed room, nearly makes you melt, nearly.

“He was crying and you were dead sleep, so I figured I’d give you a little reprieve.” Your son tries to gnaw on the golden band encircling Taiju’s ring finger, and your mind goes back to the day where you had thrown your own wedding ring into his beef stroganoff and told him to choke on it.

“…Taiju.” You take in a slow, deep breath. “How could you have possibly known that he was crying? You live an hour away.” He gives you a look as if to say ‘don’t be so dense’, and embarrassment creeps up your spine at the look. He had a way of doing that, making you feel a bit clueless and naive with a glance or a quirk of his brow, or maybe you were just projecting a bit too much.

“A father knows.”

“You still have access to the cameras.”

“That too.”

A torrent of incredulous laughter bubbles up out of your throat, and you slap a hand over your mouth as you shake your head. He’s crazy, insane, even. You want to hit yourself for thinking that a restraining order would actually keep him away — of course he wouldn’t be content with going through a third party to see his son.

A nagging thought crawls its way up to the forefront of your mind, and you give Taiju a wary look. He’s paying you no attention, instead lifting the, now screaming in laughter, baby up into the air before bringing him down with an animated ‘whoosh’.

“You…you don’t look at all the cameras, right?” His eyes glide over to yours, lips curling into a lazy grin that has a wave of shyness washing over you.

“I do,” he confirms. “The one in your bedroom, especially. I was watching it tonight, actually.” You moan out a pitiful little noise, nearly resorting to violence as you look to the empty milk bottle on the dresser beside you, but you can’t risk hitting your son in the process. Or can you, it is empty, it won’t do much damage…no, no. “You know you can’t—” he glances at his dozing son, big hands coming up to cover his ears for good measure, “—come without me, I made sure of that. But don’t worry,” he smooths a hand over dark curls, his other rubbing soothing circles into your son’s back as his eyes struggle to stay open. “Your husband will be sure to fu—put you to sleep next time.”

“…9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

#taiju x reader #um #LOL #inspired by that thing inreblogged i’m too lazy to link

[the-fiction-witch]

The Magic Of Men

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Smut Discussions

Requested: Could you do a Jack Dawkins one where she has no experience and doesn't really know how men work (because it's 1850s and she isn't married lol) but she's curious? Up to you what you do with that :)

I felt insanely awkward about doing this, but... not like I had many other options. I headed up the stairwell of the hospital and up to the little room I knew well. I gave the door a tap, and soon enough his voice answered.

"Come in,"

So I held my breath and headed inside the little room, seeing the usual objects littered about and two figures, Fagin sat in the chair fiddling with something not sure what, and then Jack stood by his wardrobe changing his shirt. Immediately I blushed and looked away, "Hi,"

"Hi Y/n, Just a sec I'll be down." Jack smiled as he got a clean shirt on, "Sorry had to change we had a bloody nightmare of surgery. You ready to go?"

"Actually, I was thinking... Maybe we could stay here tonight?"

"uhhh right, Why?"

"Well given everything with Darius, I figured maybe we could just stay and play cards here tonight. I brought us some cookies to bet with?"

"Aww you're sweet, that's great actually I can't spend any money." He laughed, "Alright piss off Fagin."

"Ohh lovely, I see when I'm not wanted." Fagin complained getting up and shuffling to the door, "Bloody sweet talk to the man who raised you!"

"Out Fagin," he told him again, 

Fagin then left leaving Jack and me alone, 

"You alright?"

"Yeah sorry uhh long day is all..."

"Alright, well get comfy." 

"Thank you," I smiled taking a seat setting my basket down and unpacking it, 

"Ohh did you make pie!?"

"I did,"

"Can I have some?" he asked sheepishly 

"Of course," I smiled cutting him some pie,

"Ummmm! you are an angel you know that." 

I blushed but we started our card game as usual, we played for a good while the whole time I was eager to ask but I didn't want to just jump out the gate with things. But I knew I couldn't wait much longer.

"Jack?" I spoke up breaking the flow of our gentle conversation, 

"Yeah?"

"Can I... Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he shrugged, 

"Could you tell me, about- Men?"

He froze a moment his eyebrows lowered, his eyes looking at me questionably, "What about men?"

"...Everything,"

"Right..." he began, "why?"

"Well, It's just..." I began, "My mother is getting, insistent on me starting to court, starting to look into me getting married and I know so little about men, how they work, what they like, I have no idea and I'm very confused."

"Men are a mystery" He chuckled, 

"I know, But I just want... some knowledge."

"All right."

"Really?"

"Yeah, can't leave you completely clueless." He smiled, "You're such an innocent little thing, the first man who realizes just how innocent and... naive you are, will take advantage of your lack of information." He explained, 

"They will?"

"Ohh yeah, the first man figures out you don't know what you're doing there's no telling what he'll make you do." He chuckled, "But why are you asking me?"

"Becuase I trust you."

"Do you?" he shot me a look,

"I trust you enough."

"Thanks,"

"Also you know… you're a doctor I imagine you're able to explain it better than the average man”

"Good point, So? You wish to know the magic of men?’

“I do”

“Alright then… Well, how much do you know?"

“Well… I know on the wedding night the lady must lie on her back and open her legs for he husband. And then he will make babies.”

“...that's it?”

"more or less”

“Ohh my god- how does anyone expect you to know what you're doing with that, you sure you aren't told anything else?"

"that if I raise my skirt too high or too low men will be excited”

“...I mean, yeah that kinda is true.” He nodded, "There's more to it but on a basic level I guess... anything else?" 

“Uhhh my mother said if you let a man put his baby goo in your mouth and swallow it you'll have babies growing in your tummy”

"…What!”

“If you let a man-”

“I heard you! I'm just fucking astonished!”

“Is that not true?"

“No! You can't get pregnant like that!”

“Ohh I see… why would my mother like to me?"

"I assume to stop you putting men in your mouth… she tell you anything else?”

“The female orgasm is a myth”

“WHAT! your mother is fucking nuts!" 

"Is that not true?"

"No! I am very VERY sure about that!"

"Ohh..."

"Ohh you poor little thing..." He said, 

"Why?"

"You need an education." He said, "So when a man and a woman love each other very much..."

"Yes?"

"They start to kiss, and cuddle, and tell each other how they feel. And then they may decide to be... Intimate."

"I see," I nodded very eager to learn, 

"And yes when a man sees under a lady's dress he may get... excited." He smirked, "A woman's body is often very exciting for a man to look at, and if he gets excited enough he'll get hard."

"Hard?"

"His... you know."

"His what Jack?"

"you really are innocent aren't you," He chuckled, "Well a man has a cock. most of the time it's just soft and not really anything all that important but when a man gets excited his cock gets hard, It'll stand up and kinda make itself stiff." 

"Ohh... Why?"

"It's all the blood rushing there and causing it to expand and stay stiff, so he can use it for sex."

"Ohh Okay, so it gets hard for sex?"

"Yeah, it gets hard when he's excited and aroused." 

"Okay, then he makes baby goo?"

"Baby goo?"

"Yeah, he gets excited until baby goo comes out."

"... It's called Jizz. or ejaculate. but yeah it makes babies."

"Jizz. makes babies. But not in mouths?"

"No, only in your pussy."

"Pussy?"

"The ... hole between your legs y/n." 

"Ohh my special place." 

"Yeah, you lay on your back, or your side, or you can sit up too there's a lot of options but the main point is he puts his cock inside your pussy, and it feels amazing for both involved and yes you should get an orgasm you both should and when a man orgasms then yes he will Jizz and if it is inside of your pussy there is a RISK not one hundred per cent just a risk that you may get pregnant."

"Hu... Thank you, Jack,"

"You're welcome. See men aren't all that magic and mystical... we are pretty simple, to be honest." 

"What about other than sex?"

"Other than sex? Well yeah if you put a man's cock in your mouth it will also give him an orgasm but you can't get pregnant," 

"Do women get orgasms other than sex?"

"Yeah, they can, a man can use his mouth, or his hands, or even women can do it themselves."

"That's possible?"

"Very possible."

"Can... men do it to themselves?"

"Yes."

"Hu... Then why do you need a wife at all?"

he looked at me and laughed, "Because it's not the same having sex and giving yourself an orgasm isn't the same feeling,"

"Ohhh..." I nodded, "That makes sense,"

"You alright now? Anything else you wanna know?"

"Uhhh... Kinda,"

"Go on then,"

"What does a cock look like?"

"Uhhhh are you serious?"

"I've never seen one before... I'm curious."

"Yeah, I don't exactly have pictures of dicks laying around y/n."

"This is a hospital if anywhere has pictures and diagrams of dicks it's here." 

"No, I don't, sorry Y/n," he chuckled going to lay on his bed for a moment, "I'm rather tired after all that explaining" he yawned, 

"Sorry Jack," I smiled sitting on his bed with him,

"It's fine, I'm happy to explain to you, at least now you're not so naive," 

"I guess now, I'm thankful to be less naive."

"Good, I'm glad I could help." 

For a moment we just sat enjoying one another company as we often did, before I little spark of a whisper popped up in my brain, and I giggled.

"What?"

I smiled and held the skirt of my dress lifting it a little to show my leg all the way up to my knee, Jack's eyes met my skin and a smirk grew across his lips, 

"what are you up to y/n?"

"Just curious."

"Curious?" 

"Umm, I wanna see the magic of men."

"Do you know?"

"Mhm, so? Are you excited?"

"...A little." He smirked, "This what you want?" he asked sitting up and I nodded excitedly, "Alright Y/n, Come on I'll prove to you about the female orgasm" He smirked tugging me into the bed with him, 

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas sangster #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #theartfuldogger #thearttfuldodger #the artful dodger

[opertabry]

the plastics n.k // y/n’s goofs (b)

synopsis // every high school has their very own mean girls. in the school of performing arts seoul, they call themselves the plastics. and on the first day of second year, you (and your friends) just so happen to cross paths with the queen bitch, nakamura kazuha.

profile 2 (b) // y/n’s goofs

jiwon // @“kjwon,, : 2nd yr student in the stage arts department at sopa. get this girl a friend in stage arts she is a LONER 😭. she is also a sugar baby for rei like jiwon gets spoiled with gifts every other day. she is honestly the happy go lucky one of the group. golden retriever to her black cat gf, rei.

rei // @“naorei,, : 2nd yr student in the practical music department at sopa. WHERE DOES SHE GET ALL HER MONEY FROM?? WHERE. endless amounts of money for liz but if any of the others even MENTION money to her, oh she becomes the most stingiest mf you will ever meet. black cat to her golden retriever gf, jiwon.

hyunseo // @“leeseo,, : 1st yr student in the theatre and film department at sopa. CHILD. follows y/n around and adores her sm. is clueless abt the world and is so so so innocent and naive, always sees the best in people. sunshine and she has 6 sunshine protectors behind her.

“ previous // masterlist // next ,,

ok guys.. um after i post these profiles im going back to my planning books because i want to set out the entire plot properly before i start on making the chapters, in the meantime i think i'll just continue updating notes since that is nearing its end! pls be patient w me my term break is in a week so ill have sm more free time!

#kazuha x reader #kazuha #nakamurakazuha #lesserafim #le sserafim x reader #smau #kpop smau #kpop gg #kpop #gxg #nakamura kazuha x reader #ive #ive x reader #idol au

[indifferent-depravity]

heyyy <3 for yandere!Richie, maybe him thinking reader is his last chance, so he knows he needs to keep them around and take advantage. get them to move in, knock them up, keep them with him forever. he wants eva to have a little sibling she can bond with! and it wouldn’t hurt to make tiff jealous. he’s just so sure he’s old and you’re naive enough to fall into his trap. maybe reader is young, a family friend or a Berzatto, freshly out of college, a virgin, sort of clueless, and works at the beef/bear? feel free to write whatever comes to mind! doesn’t have to have smut at all! thank you :))

Minors DNI 18+

Warnings: abusive relationship, age gap, rape (fade to black), pregnancy

A/N: This one's a long one!! And as always don't forget requests for everything are open so if you'd like to see anything from me feel free to drop it in my ask box :)

buy me a coffee!

help me escape abuse

my Etsy shop

Part 1, Part 2

~~~

“Damn sweetheart, where you been hiding all that ass!”

You yelp as a hand cracks down on your ass, spinning around to glare at Richie as he quickly turns around, pretending to be busy. You press your lips together and glance at the kitchen where you can see Mikey, shoulders slumping as the scolding remark you wanted to say sticks in your throat. You shoot Richie a warning look before turning around to greet the customer that just walked in.

The customer hands you a couple of bills to pay for her order and you open the register, quickly counting the change with practiced ease. Richie squeezes your ass right as you go to hand the change to the customer, causing the coins to clatter onto the counter. You swear and help the customer pick them up, handing her the receipt with a sheepish smile, “Sorry about that! Talk about butterfingers!” You say with a forced laugh, glaring at Richie from the corner of your eye.

You keep a smile plastered on your face until the customer leaves, immediately whirling around to face Richie, your voice barely above a whisper as you hiss, “The fuck, Cousin? You can’t be doing that while I’m working! And what about Tiff? Or-or Mikey? Do you really think either of them needs that shit right now?”

Richie leans closer to you, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear as he runs his hand over your ass again, “That bitch is officially not my wife anymore, and you, baby bear, god haven’t you filled out nicely.” He groans and coldness trickles down your spine at his words, your breath quickening as he squeezes your ass again.

“Cousin! I ain’t payin’ you to play grab ass with people, get your ass in here!”

Mikey’s voice echoes from the kitchen and Richie slips away with a chuckle, leaving you frozen at the counter. The bell above the door chiming startles you from your trance and you take a deep breath, nervously adjusting your uniform as you plaster a fake smile on your face to greet the new customer.

Later that day Richie decides to bother you again. You eye him warily, waiting until Mikey comes into view to bend over, ripping open the box of napkins in front of you. You start restocking the shelves behind the counter, banging your head against the counter as Mikey’s booming laugh startles you. Looking back, you see Richie thrusting his hips towards your ass, his hands hovering in the air like he was holding your hips.

You let out a scoff and haphazardly stuff the rest of the napkins onto the shelf, moving to stand up, “You guys are so fucking juvenile!” Mikey lets out another laugh, watching the scene for another moment before walking out of the room. Richie properly grips your hips before you can fully stand up, dragging you back against his hips. Your breath leaves you in a rush as you feel his dick harden against you and you rip his hands off you, hurrying away from him as he laughs.

~~~

You eye Mikey warily when he starts putting his jacket on in the middle of cleaning The Beef, “Mikey, we still got like half the kitchen to sanitize, the fuck you going?”

He flashes you a grin, bending down to kiss the top of your head, “Don’t worry about it, baby bear, you and Cousin can finish up tonight and I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” You grumble but he ignores it, pulling you into a quick hug on his way out the door.

You sink your hands back into the dishwater, trying to ignore the spiders of paranoia creeping up your back. Richie sidles up next to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips and you glare at him. His laugh sends shivers down your spine as he pulls you back against him, “Guess it’s just me and you tonight, huh?”

“Yeah a real fuckin’ party,” You deadpan, trying to ignore the way the rigid line of his cock presses against your ass. His hands creep between your thighs and you shake him off, turning to glare at him properly. “C-Cousin, you need to stop.” You say, trying to sound firm as you push him away, “This is wrong.”

He laughs quietly, holding his hands up in surrender as he steps back, “I don’t see what’s wrong about it, babe. We’re both single, adults and you know Mikey would love having me as a brother-in-law.” He brushes his lips against your cheek, “Just think about how happy it would make him.”

You shudder, gripping the sides of the sink as he walks away, tears burning behind your eyes. You take a shaky breath, turning to put the last load of dishes into the sanitizer as you try to push the event from your mind.

You wring out a rag, moving to wipe down the counters when Richie’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against his chest. “Rich-“ he clamps his hand over your mouth before you can protest, shushing you quietly as his hand wanders to the top of your pants.

“C'mon baby, don’t be like that. I just wanna show you how special you are to me.” Richie plunges his hand into your pants with a groan, “Just let me show you some love, hm?”

~~~

You’re shaking as you enter The Beef to help with opening, skittishly glancing around you as if that would keep Richie from sneaking up on you. Mikey claps his hand on your shoulder making you jump, letting out a startled squeak at the sudden touch. Your heart pounds as you twist around, letting out a relieved sigh at the sigh of your brother, “Jesus Christ, Mikey, you scared the shit outta me!”

He laughs, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders, “Sorry, baby bear, figured you heard me come in.” You wrap your arms around his middle, burying your face into his chest as you breathe in his familiar scent. “So, Cousin told me about last night,” He starts casually and you stiffen against him, heart jumping into your throat as he continues, “He’s a good guy, baby bear, I know he’ll make you happy.”

You pull away to give him a forced smile, avoiding his eyes as you take a step away from him, “Yeah, I-I’m glad you’re okay with it.” He leans down to brush his lips against your forehead before disappearing into the office and you wrap your arms around your stomach protectively, doubling over as you try to calm your breathing.

~~~

You’re still shaken by the time you reach Tiffany’s apartment, giving her a tight-lipped smile when she opens the door with Eva on her hip. Her eyebrows pinch together in concern, “Honey, is everything alright? We can just reschedule if you’re not feeling good!”

You avoid her eyes by busying yourself with taking your jacket off, reluctant to tell her what’s been happening. You shoot her a smile, holding your hands out to take Eva, “I’m okay! Just a little sore from work, we were pretty busy today.” You grin at Eva, slipping into the high-pitched voice that’s always reserved for kids, “Hiya, munchkin! You ready to hang out with Auntie Bear?” She giggles and lets Tiffany transfer her to your arms without a fuss, wrapping her tiny arms around your neck in a vice grip.

“Okay, we’ll be out late so you’ll need to give her her bath and put her to bed. There’s money on the counter for pizza and of course, you are more than welcome to raid our fridge.” Tiffany says with a little laugh as she slips her shoes on.

She pauses for a moment to look you over, shooting you a concerned look, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You laugh and bounce Eva against your hip with a grin, “How could I not be okay getting to hang out with my favorite girl in the whole world?” You nuzzle your nose against her cheek and she erupts with giggles. Tiffany sighs, still looking concerned when Frank immerges from their bedroom, resting his hand on the small of her back.

“We gotta get going if we want to beat the traffic.”

She nods, finally taking her eyes off you as Frank helps her into her coat. She grabs her purse and turns to Eva, pressing a kiss to her head, “Okay, Mommy loves you!” She waves goodbye as Frank urges her out of the door and you return it, pushing the door shut behind them.

“Alright! Who wants pepperoni on their pizza?”

~~~

You stand in the middle of The Beef, your eyes stinging from crying as you look around the empty restaurant. You couldn’t believe it. Your big brother is dead, lying in a morgue downtown and the restaurant he worked so hard on stands barren and cold. You hear the scuff of boots on the linoleum behind you and you turn to see Richie hovering in the doorway, shoulders drawn in as grief weighs him down.

You press your lips together as a fresh wave of tears fills your eyes and you throw yourself at him, squeezing your arms around his waist as you sob, “I can’t believe he’s really gone. I-I can’t-” Your words are lost as you sob harder and you press your face against his chest.

Richie takes a shuddering breath and wraps his arms around you, gently petting your hair, “It’s okay, baby, I miss him too.” His voice is thick with unshed tears as he leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head, “Let’s get you home, okay? You need to get some sleep.”

You pull away with a hiccup, roughly wiping tears from your eyes, “I-I can’t, the apartment doesn’t feel right without him. All of his stuff is still-” You let out a shaky breath, “Can I- can I crash with you? Just for tonight?”

He gives you a small smile and nods, pulling you into another hug, “Yeah, of course, you can always stay with me. Let me take you home now, yeah?” You nod and he guides you out of the restaurant with a gentle touch to the small of your back. The silence is almost suffocating when you get in his car, hearts heavy with grief as he drives home.

You hover next to Richie as he unlocks the door, holding it open for you with a comforting smile and you return it with a shaky smile of your own, stepping into his cluttered living room. You look around and let out a little laugh when you spot laundry strewn across the floor, “What is it with boys and having laundry everywhere? I fought with… with Mikey at least once a week because I kept finding his dirty underwear in the living room.” Your face contorts in sadness, eyes burning as you try to will the tears away. Richie touches your back and you let out a sob laced with a laugh, looking back at him, “I would do anything to have that fight with him again… pretty stupid, huh?”

He shakes his head and your face crumples, a tear finally escaping down your cheek. Richie sighs and pulls you against him, resting his chin on top of your head as you cry quietly. He carefully guides you to the couch, letting you tuck your face against his neck as he pulls you into his lap.

You sigh, tears slowing as the warmth from his body sinks into yours. You close your eyes, almost being able to imagine the arms curled around you were Mikey’s as Richie’s scent that was so close to Mikey’s envelops you.

A whimper slips from your throat as Richie slowly slides his hand over your leg. You push at his hand, trying to stop his movements but he shushes you, settling his hand on the apex of your thighs, “Don’t worry, baby bear, Cousin’s got you.”

Fresh tears slide down your face and you curl your fingers into his shirt, squeezing your eyes shut as he slips his hand into your pants.

~~~

Richie’s quiet as he watches you move around his kitchen when your phone lights up, a text from your landlord appearing on the screen.

Landlord 💀 4:50 pm

Your lease ends at the end of the month, can I count on you to sign on for another year?

His eyebrows raise, eyes flashing up to study you curiously for a moment before piping up, “I think your landlord just texted you, something about your lease?” You hum in acknowledgment, wiping your hands on a dish towel before picking your phone up.

You let out a sigh and type out a quick reply before setting your phone face down, ignoring when it vibrates against the surface. “She wants me to sign a new lease and… I don’t know, it’s different there without Mikey.” You turn back to the food you’re preparing, starting to chop an onion as you continue, “I’ll probably sign one anyway, I can’t afford rent anywhere else.”

Richie scoffs softly, “Why do you need to sign a new lease? You’re already here most nights, just move in.” Your knife slips off the onion at his response and you let out a quiet hiss as the blade barely misses your fingers. You set the knife down with a sigh, leaning on your hands against the counter.

“I-I don’t know, Cousin… I mean, I like having my own space and I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

He moves to stand behind you, squeezing your shoulders gently, “Take the spare room, then. You know I love having you here and Eva definitely loves having you here. I think she’d go crazy if you moved in.” At the little girl’s name, you turn to look at him, a small smile tugging on your lips.

You stare at each other for a moment before you finally shake your head with a small laugh, “Alright, alright I’ll move in.” You agree, throwing your hands up in defeat, “Playing dirty, using your daughter as a bargaining chip.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight hug, “As if she wouldn’t do it herself if she was here.” He rests his chin against your shoulder with a smile, “She’ll be so happy that we can be a proper family now.”

~~~

You set down the last box from the moving truck on the coffee table, stretching your arms over your head with a loud groan. “God, I am never moving again.” You say with a laugh, looking over the collection of boxes littering Richie’s living room. Your living room.

Richie snorts as he rips a box open, replying teasingly, “Good thing I plan on keeping you.” He leans in for a kiss and you giggle, pressing your lips against his for a moment before you turn away to open another box.

His words cause a strange pit in your stomach and you try to shake it off, your words stilted as you answer, “Yeah, I really do appreciate you for letting me move in. It was weird living alone after so long.”

Richie smirks, “I can think of a couple of ways you can show me that appreciation, baby.” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you and you stiffen for a moment, unwrapping a mug with unnecessary force.

“Oh I bet you can, perv!” You force out a laugh as you joke back, burying yourself into unpacking things as you try to forget his words.

As you slide the final book next to a collection of children’s books you let out a long sigh, a warm feeling washing over you as you take in the sight of your things mixed with Richie’s and Eva’s. You drop down onto the couch with a groan and rest your head against the back, eyes slipping closed as tiredness sinks into your bones. You’re too tired to react when Richie crowds you against the armrest, draping an arm over your shoulders, “So. How’s it feel to be officially living here?”

You shift uncomfortably as his hand slides down your side, fingers digging into the swell of your breast for a moment. “P-pretty great, I’m really happy to be here with you.” You say, voice artificially bright as you convince yourself to accept his touch.

Your breath hitches as his hand disappears beneath your shirt and teases his fingers along the waist of your jeans. Richie leans down, pressing kisses along your neck as he murmurs, “I think we should go christen the house, what do you think?”

Your breathing is ragged as you carefully pull his hand out of your shirt, “I-I think we should just get some sleep, it was a long day.” You move to stand and Richie catches the back of your shirt, easily pulling you back down.

In a swift movement, he has you pinned underneath him, hand pressing over your mouth to cut off your protests as he growls, “Not gonna get away from me this time, babe.” His other hand drops down to unbuckle his belt as he leans in until his nose brushes against yours, “I think it’s time we make this official.”

~~~

“Eva, honey, it’s time to get ready for bed!” You call out, hurriedly wiping the counters down. You hear her protest and you sigh, hands shaking as you mentally calculate how much needs to get done before Richie comes home before stepping into the living room.

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes as you crouch down next to Eva, “Sweetie, it’s time to brush your teeth and get changed into pajamas.” She whines, giving you an exaggerated pout as she continues scribbling over the coloring page.

“I’m not tired! And I want Daddy to tuck me in!” Her voice pierces your ears and you wince as a throbbing ache builds behind your eyes.

“I know you do but Daddy had to work late.” You sigh and place your hands over Eva’s, forcing her to stop. “Eva it’s time for bed. If you go brush your teeth and change into pajamas right now, I’ll let you watch a movie in bed.”

Eva’s bottom lip wobbles as tears fill her eyes and she rips her hands from under yours, roughly pushing you, “No! You’re not my mommy! I want my daddy!” Your breath gets knocked out of you as you land hard on your ass and you press your lips into a thin line, chest heaving as you try to stay calm.

“Eva, go brush your teeth. Now.” Your voice is surprisingly calm as you rise to your feet. Eva pouts and crosses her arms, turning her back to you. You take a shaky breath and tears burn the back of your eyes as she ignores you. “Alright, bedtime then.” You stoop down and easily lift her into your arms, dodging her flailing limbs as you walk to her room.

You set her on the bed and press a kiss to her forehead, tucking her in the best you could with her squirming with a quiet, “I love you, Eva.” You make sure her night light is on and flick the overhead light off, shutting the door behind you. Then the crying starts. A heartbreaking, ear-piercing wail that makes your eyes overflow with tears and you slide to the floor, burying your face in your hands. Your head is pounding by the time her cries taper off into sniffles.

She’s finally asleep when you hear the front door open and you quickly stand up, wiping away stray tears left on your face as you move to greet Richie. He smiles at you and bends down to peck your lips, “how were my girls today?”

He looks around the room, frowning as he spots the half-done chores. Your heart skips a beat as you try to explain, “E-Eva wouldn’t stop clinging to me this morning and had a tantrum when I put her to bed, so I-I didn’t manage to get as much done as I wanted to.”

“That’s no excuse.”

You gape at his words, opening your mouth to defend yourself when his hand shoots out and grabs your hair, forcing your head back, “You’re a mother now, baby, you can’t neglect your duties just because Eva’s being a handful.”

You whimper in pain, reaching up to pry his fingers out of your hair, “Richie please, I’m trying, I just need a little-little help. You know how much I love Eva but she knows I’m not her mom and doesn’t want to listen to me sometimes.”

He scoffs and throws your head away, your head swimming as you stumble, falling to the floor when you try to regain your balance. “You’re pathetic, you know that? You’re just gonna let a 5-year-old dictate your life?” He asks with a mocking tone as he undoes his belt, slowly drawing it out of the loops on his jeans. Your heart jumps into your throat as he folds the belt in half, tapping it against his palm. “You know what I have to do now, right?”

“Richie, don’t, please.” Your voice cracks as you plead with him and he lets out a cold laugh, crouching in front of you to squeeze your face.

“I’m doing this for your own good, baby. I’m just trying to teach you, but you’re so fucking stubborn that this is the only way.” His voice sounds almost sympathetic as he shoves your face away, rising back to his full height.

The first strike hits your side and the air is knocked out of you, making you wheeze as you try to catch your breath. The next strike makes you cry out and clamp a hand over your mouth, not wanting Eva to wake up. You use your free hand to help you struggle to your knees, reaching out for the dining table to pull yourself up. Your hand slips as Richie tuts, kicking you away from the table. He laughs with disbelief, “How are you going to learn if you run away when I’m trying to teach you? Hm?” He punctuated his words with strikes of his belt, letting it fall from his hand when you grow still beneath him.

Richie crouches next to you, gripping your hair to make you look at him, “Now, I expect you to finish the chores before coming to bed. Understand?” You give him a shaky nod and he smiles, leaning to kiss you, “There we go, I only do this because I love you so much, you know that right? I just want to bring out the best in you.” You force a smile as a tear slips down your face and he releases your hair, leaving you on the floor as he leaves the room.

~~~

It takes three months and having Natalie announce her pregnancy to finally realize you haven’t had a period in months. You’re tearful as you pull Natalie into the office for privacy, finally managing the words, “I think I’m pregnant.”

Natalie squeals gleefully and pulls you into a tight hug, “Oh baby bear! Our kids will get to grow up and go to school together!” You hug her back, pressing your face into her shoulder as you try to draw comfort from your big sister.

“Isn’t- isn’t it a little early? I mean I’m not even 22 yet, what if I-” Your words get stuck in your throat and you tighten your arms around her, “What if I’m not ready to be a mom and I fuck it up?”

Natalie lets out a quiet “oh” as she pulls back and cups your face, giving you a sympathetic look, “You’re amazing with Eva! It won’t be any different with your own little one, and you’ll have Richie to help you!” You force a smile and nod at her, pulling her into another hug.

You’re skittish when Richie gets home from working on The Bear, flinching at the slightest movement as you set the table for dinner. You busy yourself with making sure Eva eats, barely touching your food as anxiety ties your stomach into knots. Eva gives you a food-filled smile and you giggle softly, gently pushing her hair back from her face.

You glance over at Richie, forcing a casual tone as you say, “How would you feel about cleaning out that spare room?”

He snorts, eyeing you suspiciously, “You gotta give me some context here, babe, what do you want with it?”

Your eyes return to Eva as you keep your casual tone, “Oh, you know… The baby will need their own space at some point, don’t you think?” His fork clatters against his plate at the same time as Eva lets out a screech.

“You’re having a baby?” She asks excitedly, wiggling away from the table to press her hands against your stomach.

You let out a laugh, catching Richie’s gaze as you nod, covering Eva’s hands, “Yeah, you’re going to have a little brother or sister soon.” Eva makes a disgusted noise at the thought of getting a brother but continues to stare at your stomach in amazement, pressing her hands harder against you as if that would let her touch the baby.

Richie pushes away from the table with a loud screech of chair legs against the floor, moving to crouch next to your chair. He presses his hand on top of yours, unshed tears shining in his eyes as he looks up at you. You give him a smile, leaning down to press your lips against his in a slow kiss, giggling against his lips as Eva lets out a loud, “Ew!”

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #richie the bear #richie jerimovich the bear #the bear #writing #abuse #abuse tw #rape #rape tw #the bear hulu #the bear fx #dark fic #dead dove do not eat

[butmakeitgayblog]

This is meant with so much love but sometimes I read your interactions and you're such a millennial it's endearing! Coming into this fandom felt like joining an old lady's knitting club lmao 😭 (like with the emojis, genz uses the crying emoji as crying with laughter, y'all just use it as sad-crying. You frequently use 🥰 unironically, and it gives me such a whiplash) love you tho xx

Well I don't take this offensively - tho it is condescending, just know that about yourself - because I AM a millennial, but I do honestly feel a bit bad for you lol. I'm 35 years old and the fact that you seemingly think that is "old lady" age is??? I also mean this with love, it's gotta be terrifying living life and thinking that you have maaaybe a decade after you get out of your teens to feel young and have fun and enjoy things. Or that being young is (???) synonymous (???) with speaking like a teenager.

Just in reality here, your brain isn't even fully developed until you're 25, and you don't really begin to emotionally pull your head out of your own ass until about 30. So 30-50? That's when the real fun begins babe like idk how else to explain it you just have to live it. Hobbies are better, the sex is better (by far), the friendships are better, the freedom is so much fuckin better.

So yeah no you're right I don't think as hard on emoji meanings as zoomers do because I'm just having a good time interacting and talking rather than worrying if I'm being the 'right' kind of ironic, idk. I suppose I feel less need to make myself perform for other's approval online, but I did it in my own era, so I get your impulse. Also, I know it's a cyclical thing with pm all 15-25 yo's thinking that 30+ is like some crypt keeper style deadline for being fun or young. It's just a rite of passage, every generation thinks that way about the generation before them, we've all been there. And it is hilarious because when you do get past those ages and into your 30s, you will look back and realize exactly how clueless you were 🥴 that's also a rite of passage, believe me. Your moment will come

Mostly tho I just hope that you appreciate that the only reason this fandom is as good as it is or has lasted so long as it has is because of people my age and older. Most of the classic memes/lore/fics that this fandom is known for come from people 30+, because we have been where you are and lived it and actually made it past that smoke-and-mirrors stage of life that is your 20s. We can write about actual life and love and strife without sounding full of shit or unrealistic because we pour actual life experience and fully shaped senses of humor/character growth/etc into our work which most younger people simply cannot do (not all, I know a few brilliant younger writers and they deserve their spotlight). You too will get there eventually tho babe you will. And when the next generation laughs at you for your ~cringe~ emoji usage or whatever the litmus is for their era, you'll remember this message and then pat them on their sweet naive baby heads too 🥰

#anon #the knees may creak but a bitch can and does still throw ass don't get it twisted

[yenforfairytales]

Sure sure, Daniel has a bratty, sassy, flirty ‘Jersey’ side—but folks seem to forget just how sweet, earnest, naive, and innocent he was in the KK trilogy. One of my favourite scenes is in the first film at the start, when Daniel sees a dog in his flat complex and moments later fetches water for it—without being asked! What an angel. Anyway, this sweet innocence is probably why Terry had him totally blindsided for a while in KK3, and did it with such ease. And because Silverusso has always had my heart, let’s not forget this clueless, adorable Danny is exactly the one that piqued Terry’s demented, decades long obsession. That sweet and spicy combination is just so winning—along with the looks. I don’t blame Terry for being totally overwhelmed by the boy, it was inevitable. Terry Silver is the very definition of whipped. Lol.

Yes! Completely agree. Daniel is a perfect mix of tough but sweet. Slutty but innocent. It's a maddening blend.

He stands out. Unforgettable to everyone he's ever met even 35yrs later.

Oh, anon, are you me? Daniel giving the dog some water is one of my all time favorite scenes too!!

It's so subtle. Miyagi saw that in him. When he gifted Daniel the bonsai embroidery and Daniel said he'd understand if Miyagi ever wanted it back. And Miyagi smiled, "I know you understand." HUUUUU 😭 brb crying

There's other sweet examples, but Daniel is so thoughtful!! The most thoughtful and considerate.

Sure, his temper can override that sometimes, but even though he has attitude, he remains observant and so empathetic that he feels guilty about everything and can't sleep unless he apologizes.

That's a sensitive soul who never wanted to fight anyone and ended up constantly under attack. But look how much everyone loves him and will do anything for him. HIS LOVE SAVES PEOPLE. His forgiveness. He's truly a light.

Not to get off track but, another favorite innocent moment of mine is in kk2 when they're getting on the airplane and Daniel goes, "Airsick? What's airsick?!" :U

Just super loud and confused. Lmao

Again speaks to his innocence at that time. Maybe more Jersey street smarts than book smarts but the poor baby went through like a lifetime of maturity in one year because of the events of all three movies.

A little heartbreaking that CK Daniel is so... world weary. He's quieter. He's more observant. Meaning, he's more calculated in every interaction. Ten times smarter than when he was a kid.

I definitely blame Terry for that. He broke Daniel's heart. And according to Jessica, it took him some time to recover. (Although we know it was not completely)

Luckily for everyone, Daniel is such an angel that he never lost his sweetness or his instinct to help others even if he is cautious. He's willing to forgive but he tried his damndest to become people and business savvy as to never get hurt again.

He's intelligent. He's refined. He's a leader.

The irony that the parts of Daniel that Terry liked best he helped destroy. That trust and innocence. The irony that Terry was denied the forgiving nature of Daniel he knows is there because of his own actions.

Terry remembered that sweet, naive boy and imagined being forgiven right away and was legit shocked at Daniel's anger. Not necessarily at the rejection, but at Daniel's angerrr.

Daniel's comment about Terry being in a padded cell really struck a nerve.

I will say this - both men would not have such hurt and anger after 35 YEARS if there was no love involved at all.

The reason Daniel could forgive everyone else was because he never loved them. They were never friends.

He loved Terry. He mourned someone who never existed. And Terry wouldn't care so much about being forgiven if he felt nothing either.

THIS IS GETTING TOO ANGSTY I'M SORRY

One day someone will have to do a gifset of all the times Terry and Daniel eye-fucked each other in CK. There were so many secret smiles y'all.

I think they missed each other as much as they're mad at each other.

Anyway

This sweet innocence is probably why Terry had him totally blindsided for a while in KK3, and did it with such ease. And because Silverusso has always had my heart, let’s not forget this clueless, adorable Danny is exactly the one that piqued Terry’s demented, decades long obsession.

Let's think for a moment the picture that Kreese painted to Terry about this "punk kid" and his sensei.

Some prissy troublemaker that unfairly beat up the Cobra Kai students and made a fool of Kreese.

Then Terry meets Daniel and he's tiny and sweet and can barely meet Terry's eyes.

They spent months together. Terry's not stupid, he quickly learned the truth. He just desperately wanted to make Kreese happy.

And then years later, we see that Terry doesn't believe Kreese about the past anymore. He scoffs and rolls his eyes!

And if Terry was being honest with himself, he'd admit that he wanted to be a sensei(but couldn't because of his father's business) and loved having his own student. I and others think he was a little hurt when Daniel didn't want to be in Cobra Kai anymore and quit.

(Terry was like Bill in Kill Bill. "I... overreacted.")

That sweet and spicy combination is just so winning—along with the looks. I don’t blame Terry for being totally overwhelmed by the boy, it was inevitable.

Who wouldn't love having Daniel's full attention? Daniel was like... enamoured with everything about Terry. He did everything he said.

That's intoxicating.

Terry already thought of himself as godlike. Wealthy. Handsome. Powerful. Getting away with crimes and tricking this sweet young thing.

And then said sweet young thing looks up to you and hangs on your every word? AND he's actually a pretty good student, a fast learner?

BUT Daniel has enough attitude that he does give Terry a bit of a challenge. All the more sweeter for when Daniel eventually gives in. What fun!

Terry Silver is the very definition of whipped. Lol.

What is this?! Terry, explain!!!

Where were you going with this??

"That was beautiful!"

35 years later...

"You were powerful, free..."

Legit Terry would have done anything Daniel asked if he had been greeted with a warm reception in CK.

Lest you all forget! Terry was happy to see Daniel again. He was not happy to see Kreese.

Terry called Kreese his weakness because he was a weight around his neck and had to be removed. But Terry refused to get rid of Daniel, who all but jumped on Terry's back like a spider monkey and caused more trouble for Terry than Kreese ever did! Amazing!

I was going to say more about that and lost my train of thought.

Still waiting for the au where Daniel reigns in the righteous anger a bit and manipulates Terry to be on his side over Kreese's.

#RIDICULOUSLY LONG #WHY DO YOU GUYS LET ME GO ON THESE TANGENTS #ENABLERS #just kidding i loveh u #i had to stop myself #do you think Terry wrote sonnets about Daniel Larusso half as long #I'll fight all of you #lmao #cobra kai #daniel larusso #terry silver #silverusso #my asks #I'm...sorry

[bonesandthebees]

Congratulations Bee, I’ve had Rose!Wilbur for less than 24 hour and I’m already obsessed (technically that’s a lie, we did have a prequel). He’s just sooooo… he’s 18. He’s just a baby. He’s been a pawn in this game all his life but his father has finally decided he’s ready to play, which doesn’t mean he isn’t a pawn still, he’s just being prepared to reach the other side of the board and become a queen with the full power to go anywhere.

And he has so much potential! It’s kinda like Stars!Wilbur except it isn’t because Rose!Wilbur is way more naive, not in a bad way but more in a he has a father he looks up to and who has always been there to guide him. It’s nativity in the childish way you believe your parents always have everything handled when they don’t. And it’s about to get shattered into pieces because he’s getting a peek behind that curtain. Whereas Stars!Wilbur had zero guidance let alone any nativity because he consistently got the worst of the world. Both of them are desperate to prove themselves though. And they’ve got anxiety, but that’s a c!Wilbur thing in general.

His father is no longer calm and collected, he’s panicking because Sam isn’t telling him shit and that’s very worrying when he’s supposed to be his trusted consul (also don’t mind me realising consul and council are two different words with two different meanings on my reread. His father is no longer all-knowing, he’s just bribing Sneeg. His father is no longer pulling the strings behind his back, he’s making Wilbur get involved.

He’s ‘forcing’ Wilbur to lie to his best friend and we can already see how that weighs him down via the pendant (I’m not learning how to spell the actually word for the headband thingy, I’m not sorry). The warmth every time Phil says he trusts him or how proud he is vs. The cold of having to lie and that warmth slipping away as he moves from Phil to Niki no matter how hard he tries to hold on because no matter what Phil says, Wilbur is still so needy for his father’s approval and so scared of losing it that he because to insecure to hold onto what validation he does get.

Oh and I’m so excited for Wilbur’s loyalty to Niki vs. His need to gain his father’s approval vs. How far he’s willing to go to keep his position as further Consul vs. How far Phil wants him to go to keep that position vs. Whatever the hell crimeboys will have going on. It’s going to be so complicated.

Anyway, the next few asks will either be in depth analysis or me screaming about certain lines and detail (knowing me it’s both, it’s always both).

-🌲

I love rose!wilbur so much already he's... so much LOL. he's 18 and so ready to play this game but he's also not ready whatsoever. he thinks he knows what he's getting into but he has no clue. he doesn't even fully realize that he's been a pawn in phil's games his entire life. you're so right with that chess analogy about becoming the queen piece.

yes you get it he's a lot like stars!wilbur but he had an actual decent loving parental figure raising him so he's not jaded and distrusting of everyone and everything. he's definitely distrusting, but not to the extent stars!wilbur was. and he's got more self-esteem than stars!wilbur had, so he's got that going for him! but yeah, he's definitely naive. it's exactly the kind of naivety where you want to believe your parents can take care of everything no matter what, before you get smacked in the face with the realization that your parents are human and flawed and are just as clueless as anyone else. and he's going to have to come to terms with that very quickly, very soon.

his dad doesn't know what's going on! for the first time in wilbur's life, he sees that phil is completely blindsided by something. and it's something huge. this isn't normal, and it freaks wilbur out. phil is scrambling to get his control back, which is part of why he decides it's time to bring wilbur into the fray. because he needs someone else on his side. someone he can talk to and rely on to help further his agenda. and who better to do that than his own son?

it's ok you don't have to learn how to spell the pendant thing. I'm gonna be 100% honest I don't really know how to spell it either i'm just hoping if i copy and paste it enough times into google docs it'll learn how to spell it and just autocorrect it for me every time I attempt it.

but yes, it physically weighs him down when he has to lie to niki. the physical manifestation of his role/purpose weighs him down because it's already forcing a wedge between him and his best friend.

wilbur is so desperate for phil's approval. he wants to keep his father's trust, to know that his father relies on him just like he's relied on phil his entire life.

oh yeah this is only the start. things are going to get extremely complicated from here on out. crimeboys... well it'll take some time to let that cook once tommy's introduced, but the pay off will be worth it i swear

#ask #spruce anon #rose ch 1

[idliketobeatree]

Good omens for the fandom ask! :)

oh I am SO glad you asked <3

Marcela's Good Omens:

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)

Aziraphale. I think about him 26/7, and the extra 2 hours I actually see him in the 4th dimension after a nightshift. she's everything and I'm just Ken. he's also the sun and the stars and he has a beautiful nose. by god, I would hand-repair that waistcoat

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)

Muriel!! not a discovery here. such a baby. but I do approach that sentiment with wariness, because of their autistic undertones (and I've seen some people bringing attention to the babification of "adult" characters for those characteristics. personally, I think all angels are clueless and a little naive, as isolated as they are in Heaven. some of them simply don't let it show). I adore them, the cuteness and chaotic potential is off the charts. let Crowley adopt them already

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)

look LOOK it's Mrs. Sandwich actually. I feel like everyone loved her and her brief kinship with Crowley, but she's so underappreciated and should have a least one single uninterrupted scene to herself, is what I'm saying. she's an icon.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)

*basing on the description because I feel bad calling them glup shitto ksjhsdf

Saraqael - my eyes do a zero point focus whenever they appear on screen. like, what are your motivations. how do you remember Crowley, why did you help him. who allowed you to be so chill in Heaven, Heaven isn't chill? what do you know. what is your plan. it also helps that Liz Caar is an amazing actress and I would watch anything she's in

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)

i feel like that's not the definition I know of "poor little meow meow" - it's more like, I love them, but they are so wet and pathetic? so. the very special way Crowley breaks down during the fire at the bookshop and then when he's so drunk he thinks he's hallucinating Aziraphale. the saddest wettest snake moment. he's so devastated i'm almost surprised he doesn't meow. he needs a hug so bad

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)

ngl I want Eric (the disposable demon) destroyed in every way possible besides actual holy water stuff. he needs to keep coming back like a cockroach, it's one of my favourite gags in the show

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell)

hey remember the utter Asshole of S1? I'd send him to superhell so he could have the time of his life with his future flyspouse and speedrun the resignation letter process. but also, because he deserves it. it would fix him. that was fun <3 if you wanna send me an off-anon ask with your username I'll tag you too!!

#good omens #marcela talks #good omens faves #good omens characters #marcela answers

[steveharrington]

I just wanted to applaud you for the take on Steve! I was talking to a friend about it earlier too, and I think the idea of Steve and Eddie exploring power dynamics/BDSM in fic is interesting given their characters (i.e.: Steve has been forced to be in a place of total control for so long, it’s realistic to think that he would enjoy a more submissive role; Eddie has been in situations his whole life that were out of his control, so it’s realistic he might enjoy a more dominant role, etc). But there’s a lot of nuance to those dynamics if people want to write them that way without it slipping into fetishization, and I think that gets lost in some of the Steddie fanfic I’ve seen. Steve canonically fucks. He isn’t a shy, virginal boy too scared to flirt or know what to do if he likes someone. He’s shotgunned beers and literally talked about smoking weed. He ripped a bat apart with his teeth, put himself between a demodog and his favorite children, ran back into the house with nothing but a baseball and a fucking dream in s1. I could go on and on and on. He’s not stupid or incompetent or weak. And you can be submissive in a sexual relationship without compromising the rest of your personality. I really hope people read your take on it and apply it more to Steve. It grinds my gears, too! (And I could go on about the boiling down of Eddie’s character to just one trait too, but we’ll both be here all night.)

this is an important distinction!!! like when characters knowingly lean into certain roles for their own pleasure and enjoyment, that’s fine!! but when people write steve as so naive and helpless in his everyday life that he just naturally IS this submissive blushing clueless baby who needs eddie to give him direction….it’s very weird 2 me. like you said there’s definitely nuance

#answered

[mydonkeyfeet]

Autistic hyper-endurance of fun?

Does autism have a thing where one lacks the neurotypical degradation-of-fun mechanism? I still don't know if I'm autistic or not (most online tests say not quite) but I've read that neurotypicals have a friendship degradation mechanism, which I definitely lack, where eventually they lose interest in old friends and move on. For me, I tend to think with naive optimism that every friendship will last forever. Fortunately, many of my friends are neurodiverse and also lack that mechanism.

But I've noticed that some autistic family members and I have experienced a thing where something stays fun or funny for us long past everyone else.

At my job in my 20s, we all made a game of hiding plastic Easter eggs in unexpected places all over our workplace, with silly notes or drawings inside, and when we found one, we would hide it for the next person. Eventually, my coworkers would just give them to me to hide again because they got tired of the effort (though they still enjoyed finding them. I think.)

In a less happy experience, in high school my friends and I would write silly stories together, one sentence at a time, passing the pages back and forth throughout every class. Some stories were short and finished in one period, and some were long and lasted a whole semester, but they were all hilarious. One friend who I'll call Prune had been my friend for nearly our whole K-12 years, and we wrote many stories together. But during our final year, suddenly for some reason she started hating my existence. I could not figure out why, I still don't know, but at the time all I could think was "Maybe if we write more stories, she'll laugh and have fun and we'll get back to normal." And she seemed to hate our stories too, though she still wrote ones with our other friends. She would even pass them to a classmate and ask them not to return it to me until the end of class, making them seem like the bad guy. While I thought we could have a fun collaboration like a game of catch, I realize now that it was more like I was the stupid naive but innocent dog thinking, "Human is sad. Maybe we should play ball? Throw my ball? Will that make you happy? Throw it?" and she was the person holding the slobbery ball who is absolutely sick of playing fetch with that stupid dog. (She did still write stories with our other friends though, so I'm still clueless why she hated me. They kept writing stories with me too, and seemed to keep enjoying it.)

Anyway, I realized today that my dad, who we now suspect may have been autistic (who died last year) also exhibited some of these hyper-endurance-of-fun mechanisms with me that drove me up the wall as a child and teen. Long past it was appropriate, he was playing baby pinchy games with me that I hated, and speaking with my old baby talk that embarrassed me. And he knew I was irritated but was probably clueless why, just like I was with Prune. He thought we were sharing a fun childhood memory, and I was annoyed that he was fixated on something from my ancient history that I no longer enjoyed, and that he still saw me as a silly baby. And like Prune, I didn't have the words or the nerves to explain it to him.

Nowadays, I have to remind myself that what's fun for me may not stay fun for my friends (including remaining in a fandom or participating in our old activities) as well as reminding myself that they have a friendship degradation mechanism, and they're allowed to move on from me. I'm not actually a sad dog with a slobbery ball.

But I'm 45 and I still haven't forgiven Prune.

#autism #degradation of fun #hyper-endurance of fun #friendship degradation mechanism #friend dumping #friendship dumping

[starbornsoulrider]

Guardian’s Lament

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Summary: When Concorde vanishes into the night, B.B tries to find her and find out how she’s feeling with the current revelations. Takes place right after the “On the trail of Anne” questline.

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Author’s Note: writing this cuz 1. I don’t like the idea that Concorde is some “helpless confused baby who doesn’t understand any of this magic stuff uwu” (generally this is just me giving her more characterization than what we got in game) and 2. To explore how the Guardians feel about their immortality (it can’t possibly be easy, like they’ve must’ve lost so many people after so many lives) and 3. there’s kinda subtle OC development

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I was having a peaceful sleep, at least until a certain worrywart began nudging my face and whisper-yelling in my ear. With a groan, I opened one eye and glared at the old, chestnut stallion standing at my side.

“Hrrmmff… What is it, Meteor?” I grumbled as I lifted myself off the ground and stood back on all fours.

“Utter disaster!” Meteor cried while throwing his head back in distress. His ears were pinned against his neck, and his dark gray eyes were wide with panic. “Concorde is missing! Again!”

“Shh! Quiet down!” Starshine suddenly spoke up out of nowhere. I turned to see him and Tin-Can a few feet away, rustling through the bushes like they were searching for something. “Do you WANT to wake up our riders and send them into a panic?”

“Yeah, they’ve been through a lot today already,” Tin-Can huffed as he pulled his head out of a large shrub. “Concorde couldn’t have gone far. Let’s just keep our heads together and find her.”

“Ah, she disappears after we made such a crucial decision about her situation…” Meteor chatters on, pacing the ground back and forth, continuously flattening the grass beneath his hooves. “She isn’t mad at us, is she? Maybe we should reconsider… She might not be as ready for this as we thought.”

“Whatever the reason, let’s just focus on finding her first.” Starshine instructed, probably hoping his words would ground Meteor back to the situation at hand. “We can ask her then. Right now, I think we should be a bit more concerned about we lost a foal, in the middle of the night, in a forest that was just overtaken by some mysterious magic force yesterday!”

“Both of you worry way too much,” Tin-Can snorted, earning glares from both the Star and Moon guardians. “She is a Guardian like us. Nearly everyone has treated her likes she’s totally naive and clueless! Sure, she’s young, and she needs our guidance most of all. But sometimes it feels like you forget that she’s also a Guardian and underestimate how much she truly understands!”

“What?!” Meteor huffed, stomping up to Tin-Can. I couldn’t help but flinch when I heard one of the Soul Riders stir in their sleep. “We understand more than anyone how important Concorde’s role as a Guardian is! We even agreed to find a way to restore her into an adult! But as of right now, she is a foal and cannot defend herself! And how do we know for sure that-“

“Guys! Calm down, stop making a ruckus!” I butted in, their back-and-forth arguing starting to make my head ring. Once my brothers turned towards me, I pointed my nose in the direction of something I’d spotted on the ground long before they did. Small hoofprints were scattered through the dirt, leaving a trail deeper into the woods. “Look, she left tracks. I doubt she could’ve gone far.”

The three stallions seemed surprised by my observation, but I spoke up again before any of them could say anything. “If you two are done bickering, I’m going to go follow them. Stay here and protect our riders. I’ll be back with Concorde.”

Without another word to my brothers, I began to walk away from the camp, keeping my eyes glued to the faint circular tracks guiding me along Concorde’s trail. Night had long since settled over the forest, stars blanketing the dark blue skies above, their light pouring through the canopy and dimly lighting my way. It’s funny to think that just yesterday, that oppressive and dangerous force of magic was laid thick across the now serene and quiet Hollow Woods. There was always a slight fog that hung over the ground here, but it was nowhere near as bad as it was a few mere hours ago.

My hooves crunched over the fallen leaves, and acorns cracked under my weight. I took a deep inhale of the crisp, autumn night air as I decided now was a good time to sort out my thoughts.

We were really going to use the five-leaf clover and transform Concorde, huh? It’s a lot to take in, that the clover has enough power to achieve something of such a scale. When Anne explained everything to us, and her dedication rebuild the bond with her horse, I understood why. I did not know the old Concorde, but I could always see a solemn atmosphere hang over the two whenever they were together. Back during the Light Ride, Anne even seemed hesitant towards Concorde. It wasn’t just on Anne’s side, either. It was obvious Concorde was drawn to Anne, but I could always see it in the filly’s eyes. She was conflicted, confused at the sight of her Soul Rider. It’s obvious she doesn’t remember Anne, nor does she know what to make of all this.

Transforming Concorde back into an adult might provide her with more clarity about herself and her role. The other Guardians say they slowly began to remember their other lifetimes as they grew up. Concorde was still a long way away from that, though. Garnok won’t wait for her to remember and build her power naturally, I’m afraid. I know that. The longer we wait, the more we risk losing. Anne’s words echoed in my mind, and the image of five mourning riders kneeling before a grave with a rose placed atop it resurfaced. Oh, Aideen knows we can’t take another loss. If we’re all at full power, then we can better protect each other.

But does Concorde understand all of that? She may at least suspect she has a greater purpose in life, but I doubt she knows the full extent of it. Back when we reunited with Anne and Alex, Concorde seemed to stand so firmly and confidently beside Anne for the first time since I’ve known her. She seemed ready and knew what she had to do. But now, when she’s wandered off into the night… I’m not so sure. Does she want to grow up so fast? Does she understand why we feel it’s the best option? Oh, I pray we didn’t make her feel pressured into this. I don’t know her as well as the other three do. They seem to read each other so easily, after spending countless lifetimes together. I’ve never tried to pry too much into how Concorde felt about her brutal death and sudden rebirth. Whether or not she knows what happened to her, it seems like such a sensitive and heavy topic for a foal to handle.

We underestimate how much she truly understands the situation… Tin-Can’s words rung in my mind. I wondered if he was right. Concorde is an immortal spirit, there’s much more to her than a tiny, rambunctious filly. At the same time, though, I agree with Meteor that she might not be ready for this.

However, there’s only one way to find out, and that’s to talk to her and hear her thoughts on the matter. Up until now, I haven’t really talked with Concorde or spend as much time with her as Meteor or the others have. I’m like her brother as a fellow Soul Horse, so of course I try to look out for her whenever I can, but today made me realize I haven’t had a heart-to-heart talk with her yet. Right now, that seems like the thing she needs most. Maybe then we can both feel more at peace with how things are progressing right now.

“Good grief, she went further into the woods than I thought,” I murmured once I began to see the old, rustic streetlights of Valedale Village glimmering beyond the trees. I followed Concorde’s trail through a wall of bushes, greeted by the sight of the Silversong river. Flickers of reflected moonlight danced on the surface like silver fire, and the rushing water joined the quiet chorus of the night’s creatures. My eyes followed the trail of miniature hoof prints in the sand, until eventually I finally saw the small gray filly staring out onto the water, eyes glued to her reflection.

“Concorde,” I spoke softly, loud enough for her to hear me. She turned her head, ears flicking at the sound of her name.

“B.B? What are you doing out here?” she asked as I walked over to stand beside her.

“I should be asking you the same question,” I spoke a bit sternly. “The other three Guardians are panicking over you! Especially Meteor, he’s going to create a ditch with how much he’s been pacing. You should’ve said something before you wandered off.”

Her ears fell, and so did her gaze, back onto the water. I looked with her, meeting the gaze of my reflection. For me, that’s all I saw- myself. But the way Concorde looked at hers, I had a suspicion that she saw something else.

“I’m sorry I ran away,” Concorde sighed heavily, her head drooping more. “I couldn’t sleep, and I felt like I was gonna lose my mind if I stayed still any longer.”

“Let me guess,” I replied, turning my gaze back to her. “You’re thinking about the clover? About your transformation…?”

Her answer was clear with the way her eyes seemed to dim at the mention of the clover. “Concorde, if you need to say anything about it, then you should speak up. Yes, all of us being at our full power is important, but so are your feelings on all of this. Don’t feel pressured to go through with this is you don’t want to. Even if you can’t reach your full power yet, I’m certain you can still bond with Anne the way you are now. Yes, she pains over losing the old you… but I know she still loves you. If her decision to transform you makes you uncomfortable, then we can call all of this off and think of a better solution-“

“It’s not that,” Concorde interrupted me, squeezing her eyes shut. Silence hung in the air for a moment, as I waited for her to speak. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and turned her face to the night sky as she sat down on her hind legs. “I know what everyone thinks. That I’m not ready for this, that I’m only going along with this because everyone expects me to. That I’m fine just the way I am, and I shouldn’t be expected to change if I don’t want to.”

“Remember when I met Willow?” she continued after a moment. “I could see it in her eyes. After what Tin-Can told her, she must’ve assumed that Anne hated me or something. She told me that in time Anne will see me for who I really am… Back then, I tried to find that comforting, but every time I look at myself in the water… I don’t even know if I can see who I really am!”

Her words surprised me, but I gently urged for her to continue. “What do you mean?”

Concorde grimaced, her eyes closing tightly again. “I know what I am- I’m a Guardian. The others assume that I’ve forgotten my past lives… In a way, I have, but I also haven’t. It’s like some kind of confusing in between that I can’t stand, like my own existence is fractured… It’s not like I don’t have a clue what’s going on. A few months ago, maybe I would’ve been more hesitant to transform. But then everything changed, and I found my way back home. Yet I’ve felt so… lost ever since. Like there’s something I’m missing… It started with Elizabeth, when I saw her I knew she was connected to me somehow. And now it’s the same with Anne. This rift between Anne and I… With time, I’m sure she could get used to me being a foal. We were already on that road for a while. In a perfect world, I could grow alongside her. But even then, with the way things are right now, the rift wouldn’t heal. Not completely, at least…”

What Concorde was telling me right now… It was clear her pain went much deeper than I thought. I stayed quiet for now though, and let her keep speaking her mind.

“Ever since we freed Anne, I’ve had this lingering feeling- this feeling that I’m supposed to know her, to remember her.” My sister shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. I shifted closer to offer her comfort. “But I don’t… and it’s frustrating. Not only that, but I don’t have the ability to protect her. I feel so powerless.”

I nodded, my thoughts starting to come together again. Despite everything, Concorde was still a Guardian, who deep inside still knew of her ancient duty. That wisdom and power she gained throughout so many lifetimes, it was still there, as if the morning sun was struggling to rise over the island. It made me wonder if I had just been reflecting on her in a way… I may be a Starbreed, but as far as I’m aware, I’m not like the Guardians. They’ve known about their destiny and history longer than the Soul Riders have known theirs. But me? I was thrown into this world without a clue of what to expect or what to do. All this time, I worried that was how Concorde felt. But the Guardians- the way their multiple lifetimes all connect and blend into each other- it’s so much more than I can comprehend. My brothers won’t admit it, but I know that so much weighs heavy on their shoulders. They’ve lost riders, lost each other, so many times throughout the ages. The burden of immortality and reincarnation is something that follows them in every life, and now Concorde was at a point where it was starting to catch up with her, too. I guess that’s inevitable for them in every lifetime of theirs…

“I know…” was all I could say to Concorde. Although I didn’t carry the same pain as her, I had seen it in my brothers’ eyes countless times. However, was transforming really Concorde going to help? “But… do you truly think the clover will fix all of that?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Concorde bit her lip. “But… I’m so tired of feeling like the answers are being dangled over my head. My memories, what Anne meant to me… In my heart, this feels the only way to finally reach them. Whenever I see her, I feel like a crucial part of my life has been blanked out… Maybe in different circumstance, I would’ve wanted to stay like this and be a normal foal, patiently waiting for my time to shine. But right now, I don’t feel like I’ve been reborn and started a new life, I just feel like I picked up where I left off and I don’t even know what happened before. All of this is so familiar… and I want to know why. I want to feel complete again, but as long as I’m left clueless about who I was or who Anne was to me, I don’t think I can…”

I couldn’t help but be reminded of Halo by Concorde’s lament. A small, nearly forgotten moment from a while ago, not long after we saved Anne. Me and my rider were sitting underneath a starlit sky, in the fields of our home on South Hoof. They’ve always cast a longing look to the night sky. Just like Concorde, they know they were once someone they can no longer remember. They knew they were missing a piece of themself. But that night, it hurt more than it ever had before.

“I feel so lost…” The sound of Halo’s helpless sobs echoed through my mind, leaving a sting in my chest. “I know I’m not of this world. But every time I try to remember, I draw a blank. There’re all these lingering fears that just grow worse with time, and I don’t even know where they came from. They’ve been there from the start, but after everything we’ve been through, they’ve started to haunt me… I can’t look at the others without hurting anymore. Like… like something is going to come and take them away. I… All I want is answers… Maybe then, I could know what to do… I’m so tired of being scared… of feeling incomplete… What do I do, B.B?”

“I…” It took me a moment to find my words as the realization donned upon me- I’d seen this before with my very own rider. “…I understand. I… actually have a friend who’s in a similar predicament, now that I think about it.” I don’t think I’d ever told Concorde about Halo’s situation, but that could wait for another day. “Just to be absolutely certain- are you really ready to go through with this? There won’t be any turning back. There’s no shame in changing your mind. The others will understand.”

“I know,” For the first time in this conversation, Concorde smiled, her eyes locking with mine. “But I’m done waiting around for my memories and power to come back to me. I want to feel like myself again. If there really is a grave danger closing in on us, I want to be able to protect you all, especially Anne, and ride with my siblings and my Soul Rider once more. I’m the Sun Guardian- and I’m ready to embrace that title. And besides… I am getting rather tired of the other Guardians mothering me all the time.”

For a second, I could’ve sworn I saw a pair of translucent, feathery wings appear on Concorde’s back. Even though it was night, I could feel the sun’s power radiating off of her. Her eyes burned with the intensity of the sun’s surface. For the first time, I was truly witnessing the sheer power of the Sun Guardian’s spirit, bright and determined. I could only imagine how powerful she’d be once she achieved her true form.

Once I got over my shock, I smiled back at her. Yes, deep down I still had those lingering worries that refused to let go. But if Concorde was ready, I had to support her.

“Okay then,” I spoke with a firm nod. “I’m glad you told me all of this, Concorde. It helped me realize that there’s so much more to being a Guardian than I thought… You’ve really changed since we saved you from Ydris and his circus, huh?”

“Yeah,” Concorde chuckled. “It feels like it’s been years… Then again, maybe that’s just the Pandorian magic still messing with my head.”

With a deep breath, Concorde finally got to her feet. “Thanks for talking with me, B.B. It’s nice to finally get all of that out. Everything feels a little less scary now... It’s good to know I’m not alone in this. I’m lucky to have you as a big brother.”

“Even though I’m not a Guardian and haven’t lived as many lives as the rest of you?” I chuckled.

“Just because you’re not a Guardian doesn’t mean you’re any lesser than us!” Concorde argued, bouncing up and headbutting me in the shoulder. I coughed out in surprise and doubled back a little. “So no down-talking yourself! You’re a Soul Horse, therefore part of our family, and you’re stuck with us!”

“Yeah, stuck with a crazy, violent sun god,” I scoffed, but couldn’t hide my smile. “Just don’t go around tackling me like that when you’re big again! You might actually kill me!”

“I didn’t hit you that hard! Don’t be such a drama king!”

“Uhm, from what I’ve heard from our brothers, YOU were much more of a drama king in YOUR past life.”

“Whatever!” Concorde said dismissively as she began to run back up onto the grass. “Now come on slowpoke, I can feel the sun starting to rise! Let’s get back before the others wake up!”

With a smirk, I ran ahead of her, playfully kicking up a cloud of dirt as I dashed by. “You’re the slowpoke who needs to worry about getting back in time!”

“Hey!” she shouted, coughing before running after me. “No fair, if this was a race you should’ve said so! Ugh, forget what I said! You’re my least favorite brother!”

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#sso #star stable #star stable online #my writing #concorde #babyboy #sso oc #tin-can #starshine #meteor #me? finally finishing a fic? #even though its just a oneshot im proud of myself #this isn't the BEST thing I've ever written but im pretty happy with how I conveyed the character's emotions

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

an 18 year old hitting on a 15 year old is just as bad as a 21 year old having their eyes on a 16 year old. 21 & 18 are both adults, the first situation isn’t any less weird just because they’re both teens & have a smaller age gap. at 18 you really should know better than to chat up 15 year olds, i mean that’s super creepy, not to mention literally illegal. being dumb doesn’t give you a free pass to being a predator. plus idk why you’re infantilising 18 year olds, yes they still have a lot of growing up and maturing to do but they’re legal adults now not tiny clueless babies who need to be coddled :/

The 18/15 age gap absolutely can be creepy and be cause for alarm. When in doubt, it’s always safer to assume the worst.

But it’s also one of those situations where it can be innocent. The 15 year old isn't always going to be in danger, that depends on the 18 year old in question. It is certainly less serious than the 21/16 idea, I think you’re very much wrong about that. Because in this age range, every year counts, and the former is literally just two high schoolers. Like, that's another thing. Kids are socialized in high school to see each other as one big collective. A senior dating a freshman? Questionable, but not inherently dangerous. But a senior dating an eighth grader? Fuck no. That's a middle schooler, what are they even doing? If nothing else, I don’t concede that every single senior who dates a freshman is a creep. Generally yes, I’d be concerned, but 18 year olds are still basically kids.

I knew someone would take issue with my “infantilizing” young adults for acknowledging that they can be naive, as it’s happened before. Please understand, when I say that teenagers are stupid, I don’t mean it as an insult. (Saying it aloud like that makes it sound silly, but let me explain.) Everyone who’s ever lived looks back on themselves at younger ages and thinks “god I was stupid.” Especially their teen years. To any seniors reading this, I guarantee you will too. I would put money on it. When I started college, I had classmates who were dating high schoolers. Some of these people were creeps, or at least appeared to be. But not all of them. Fast forward a few years, and at least one of these creeps is still pursuing teenagers. But I've seen others look back on those days and cringe, their attitude being “What was I thinking?”

So to me, it’s something of a case by case issue. 🤷‍♀️ If a senior and a freshman are interested in each other, it's the responsibility of the senior to recognize that it's a bad idea and not let it happen. Since after all, they're older. They should be more mature. But not all of them will be. Though I can see how this line might blur, the fact is that being immature is not the same thing as being predatory. Some seniors are just irresponsible and don't think it's a big deal. Others are specifically targeting their younger classmates for being more naive and easier to manipulate. Intent matters, particularly when talking about people who were considered children a matter of months ago.

#I really don't even know what to tag this #Teenagers