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secretsofblackthornhall · 2 years

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Magnus to Alec

Dear delectable muffin of love,

I hope this perfumed letter finds you well, and that you and R and M are having an excellent time in your exotic journey to…well, I believe the term you used was “upstate.” I have heard legends of this Upstate, but never did I know that my family would see for themselves its mountains, its twee farm markets, its River of the Son of Hud.

More to the point, I hope the kids are enjoying their visit with Grandma, and I hope you are referring to Maryse as “Grandma” as often as possible because I enjoy the face she makes when we do. On a less pleasant but more urgent note, I hope you’ve had a chance to talk with Luke about the Cohort/Idris stuff.

But do not tire your beautiful hands with a written reply. I will be heading to this “Upstate” myself to join you later this afternoon, as I am relieved to report that the business with the Blackthorn kids’ cursed house is more or less resolved. Although it was touch and go, let me tell you.

I don’t think I even showed you the note Jem sent, which said, “Emma and Julian are trying not to bother you about their house, and that is very nice of them, but unlike them, I feel absolutely no compunction about bothering you, and so this is me, now, in this note, bothering you. We are in need of a warlock and you are the best one I know for this. We would all really appreciate your help.”

As is often the case, I was both mildly annoyed and mildly impressed with Jem, who managed to be both very kind and also to remind me that I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa and will rush to their aid when I can. Because I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa, I wrote back quickly saying I would come.

I know what you’re thinking: “How could Tessa need a warlock when she is a warlock?” But different warlocks have different expertises, as you know, and while Jem was flattering me that I was the best choice, the reality is that I have dealt with a lot more curses than Tessa. That’s what comes of spending the past decades hiring your services out to any miscreants who come by, instead of more intelligently living a calm life as a magic researcher in the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa always was the smartest of us.

Anyway, I must give Emma and Julian credit. I expected to arrive and find them banging the cursed objects against one another or something, but they had set up a decent enough protective circle and even found a spell. It was an old, kind of generic spell that I have found to rarely be of much use with actual curses in the modern day, but still.

Rather stupidly I set up a basic workaday curse-breaking circle of my own, and gave it a try. “Stupidly” because I had forgotten who did the curse in the first place. Your worst ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, all-around demon enthusiast and dilettante necromancer. How in bed with demons was Benedict? He literally died of demon pox — which if you do not know, because you are beautifully pure, my Alec — is a sexually transmitted demon disease.

But I forgot that in the moment, so I was surprised when the curse put up an impressive resistance. It writhed and thrashed and struck out, like Max being lowered into a bath. The cursed objects were all glowing, kind of neon green, where they were tied to the magic, and eventually I realized I was going to have to carefully unknot each object from the curse, one at a time.

I managed the flask, the dagger, and one of the candlesticks (don’t ask me to explain how THAT happens), but after that I was stuck.

It’s not a great look for a warlock to strike a big magic pose and then nothing happens. I am sure I looked ridiculous, like a mundane magician who couldn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t coming out of the hat. Julian and Emma are very polite and only waited patiently but I felt quite silly.

And then I lost all my focus temporarily because the door opened and Kit walked in. He sort of looked around at the scene and finally said, “Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick, I see.”

“Purple is always an appropriate color for a warlock,” I said. “It is the decorative color of magic.”

Emma, of course, said, “Your magic is blue,” because she is an inveterate smartass.

“Maybe he meant me,” said Julian. “I’m wearing a purple hoodie. Also because it is the decorative color of magic,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I appreciated.

“Maybe you could put the objects on a purple tablecloth instead of a white one,” Kit said, and while he was talking he walked out to get a closer look.

And when he got close to the circle, Alec, I felt the strangest sensation. A feeling of…power, I suppose, kind of humming in Kit. You know the way your body kind of vibrates when there’s a really really low sound? That rumbling feeling? It was like that, but silent. I’ve never had that experience any of the times I’ve seen Kit before. I could also tell that Kit didn’t feel anything unusual. Or if he did, he was surprisingly casual about it.

So I suggested he come join us around the circle and add his focus to the magic. “Especially since Jem and Tessa have snuck off somewhere rather than helping out with this round.”

“They’re out in the garden with Mina,” Kit said, a little defensively.

I redirected everyone’s attention to the objects and established a somewhat souped-up version of my go-to curse breaker. I went for the other candlestick and BANG. No resistance anymore! There was a big burst of blue and all the knots of magic tying the objects to the curse broke into pieces.

Everyone blinked a bunch. Eventually I said something like, “Well, that was more what I was hoping for. I guess four people made the difference.”

I checked. The curse seemed…gone. I was actually a little shaken. I haven’t mentioned it to Tessa and Jem, because I don’t want to make a big deal of it, but I think it worked because of Kit. Not because we needed a fourth person. Something is going on with him, some magic that is totally outside his awareness. I assume it has something to do with being a descendant of the First Heir, but I’ve never been an expert on that kind of faerie enchantment. (And do burn this letter, after you get it — very few of us know about Kit being the First Heir, and it’s best if we keep it that way.)

It makes me sad to think of it. Kit is a good kid who deserves a good, ordinary life. I know that’s what Jem and Tessa want for him, more than anything, after the chaos that was his growing up. But I am not sure he will have a choice in the matter. Fae may not let him choose.

Julian reached out and took hold of the flask. He held it for a moment, frowning.

“What?” said Emma.

“Nothing,” Julian said. He looked up at me. “Is that it? No more curse?”

“No more curse,” I said. “I hope.”

And then down from the ceiling drifted Rupert the Ghost. I never met Rupert Blackthorn when he was alive. I don’t know what to think of him. On the one hand, he seems to have been an innocent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a spirit trapped in a house he never lived in because of evil he never knew about while he lived. On the other hand, he met Tatiana Lightwood and thought that lady seems like marriage material, so there must have been something weird going on with him.

Rupert had been hovering and he descended until he was right above the table. He was staring at something on it.

“What is it, Rupert?” said Emma. “What are you looking at?”

Kit followed his gaze and started pushing the objects out of the way. “It’s the ring,” he said.

Emma said, “What ring?”

Indeed, what ring? There wasn’t a ring among the cursed objects. But there was a ring on the table now. Kit picked it up. It was a silver ring, etched with a design of thorns and set with a black stone.

“Blackthorn family ring?” Kit said.

“It’s not how family rings usually look,” Emma said.

“Wedding band?” said Kit.

“Shadowhunters don’t use wedding rings,” said Emma, but Julian had that thoughtful look he gets.

“I am bound here by a silver band,” he said softly.

“Shadowhunters can exchange wedding rings,” I said. “They just aren’t expected to. But they can if they want.”

Whatever it was, it was Rupert’s. He had followed Kit’s hand as it picked up the ring, and now he was reaching out for it with a thin ghostly hand. He wrapped it around the ring, which did absolutely nothing since he’s a ghost – Kit just kind of held it there for him. Then his eyes closed (Rupert’s, I mean) and he got this expression on his face of relief and gratitude and peace, and he just…faded out, right there. Just slowly vanished and was gone. No more Rupert. On to hopefully not being reunited with his wife, since she was also his jailer for over a hundred years.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma said quietly.

“That’s for the best,” I said. “He was never supposed to be here at all.”

“Well, Rupert, if you can hear me,” said Emma, “it was nice being haunted by you.”

“Five stars,” said Kit solemnly, putting the ring back on the table. “Would be haunted again.”

And all the candles went out in the room at once. Which, if it was Rupert, was a nice touch. Though it may have just been a draft.

We all filed out of the room quietly. “It’s different,” Julian said. He was looking around at the hallway. “I can feel it already.”

I could feel it as well. There was a lightness that had not been there. A kind of pleasant hominess that a good house conveys and that had always been absent from Blackthorn Hall in the time I’ve known it. It’s hard to describe, but all at once it felt like Julian and Emma’s home, in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve always known it as a forbidding place, and then as a hideous ruin, but for the first time I thought, this was a place the Blackthorns could fill with joy.

And I’m certain they will.

See you very soon, my love. I shall kiss you until a toddler forces us apart to pay attention to him. So plan for a kiss of about 30-60 seconds, based on previous experience. But I wish, as always, that it could be endless.

Love,

Magnus

#sobh #secrets of blackthorn hall #rupert blackthorn #magnus bane #alec lightwood #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #kit herondale #made a change to the ring

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updatingranboo · 9 months

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tips and tricks for ranboo fans to make chat (and the community) a better place!

hello! since the rebrand is coming up i decided i wanted to make a list of certain things ranboo fans should be discouraged from saying/doing, to keep chat/the community fun and keep from pushing ranboo back into the box of a streamer they no longer are. i personally don’t believe in cringe culture, i think everyone should be able to have fun, but at this point certain jokes and comments restrict ranboo from growing as a person and do reflect on the community. this got a lot longer than i was expecting, apologies! lets begin.

gender jokes (“genderman”, you stole my gender etc)

a super obvious one. getting gender envy from ranboo is normal and super awesome! nothing wrong with that. but the jokes have been overused. the genderman one specifically has ties to minecraft which, while ranboo doesn’t care about being associated with minecraft, it’s still a tie to their past content they would prefer to leave behind. this is the same level as calling them an “mcyt”, while there’s no harm in it and ranboo really doesn’t care, it’s also just.. not really true anymore and hasn’t been for years. let them grow!

2. *blank*boo/general spam

*blank*boo is nothing but spammy. all it does is fill up chats and replies and brings no substance to anything. spamming “tiredboo” when they yawn, “madboo” when they yell etc. is not contributing anything meaningful to a chat. it’s annoying and drowns out actually fun and interesting comments. as for general spam, you can use a few emotes here and there! but when all you do is spam emotes it again just floods the chat. when ranboo tells chat to stop spamming, you stop. don’t take it as a challenge, you will just get banned. yes there is delay, but you can see what other people in chat are saying too. spamming lag, telling them they missed a dono, anything where you find yourself repeating what other people are saying to either get their attention or just because (except for using bttv emotes) just don’t. i know most people are used to speaking in a fast chat, but the truth is chat doesn’t have to be fast! if you don’t have anything to say, you can just stay quiet. even spamming the PETTHEMODS emote defeats the purpose !!

3. telling off chat

slightly related, you don’t have to tell off chat either. going “chat stop” “oh my god chat” just adds to the spam. change the subject! ignore the spam and let the mods take care of it. focus on reacting to the stream and being silly, not being backseat mods.

4. the swearing obsession

ranboo is almost 20. they make so many innuendos every stream. they are heavily considering adding a mature warning to most streams from here on out, and as we have seen they no longer are the “family friendly” kid who they used to be. he can say shit and fuck and people can be normal about it. you don’t have to say LANGUAGE or go THEY SWORE ?????? he’s an adult and can swear. all of his friends swear and a huge portion of us in the community do too. it is not a big deal

5. telling ranboo what to do

back seating in video games, as well as in other situations when it’s NOT ASKED FOR is not fun. let ranboo do what they want. this applies to just general things too- you don’t need to tell ranboo to go to sleep. they can make that decision themself. again, he’s almost 20.

6. assuming ranboo is uncomfortable with something

it’s always good to be careful about respecting boundaries! but don’t confuse your own boundaries for theirs. ranboo has said many times that if something bothers him, he’ll talk about it! it’s safe to say they are more uncomfortable with you harassing an artist for drawing something you personally don’t like, over the actual art itself.

7. the chat hopping/mentioning ranboo unnecessarily

we all love ranboo. that is very obvious. their friends love them too! but when you go into one of ranboos friends chats or comment sections and start either asking about ranboo, telling his friends to play with them, or making unnecessary references to their content, it makes their friends want to do things with them less! streamers are their own people. there’s nothing wrong with watching one of ranboo’s friends streams because ranboo is there, i do it all the time. a lot of us do. the biggest thing is to be RESPECTFUL to the person who’s stream you are watching. if you chat, chat to the streamer! you don’t have to mention ranboo. or, just stay out of chat if you don’t think you’ll be able to stay on topic. you don’t have to speak in chat! there is the flip side of this, don’t bring up other streamers in ranboos chat unnecessarily either! no one cares if you saw two colors and it made you think of something unrelated. it’s so disrespectful to the streamer to do this.

8a. unnecessary negativity

the internet can be a very negative, reactionary place. seeking out negativity just for the sake of an argument is unhealthy and can also expose others to arguments that they wouldn’t have had to see. bait, obvious unchanging bigots, and also people who just don’t like ranboo (which is valid!) don’t need to be engaged. in the case of trolls, bait and bigots, they only bring negativity and are there to cause arguments. don’t give them the attention they want. As for people who just don’t like ranboo, you can leave them be too! Not everyone has to like ranboo. he can handle it, you don’t need to defend him or try and change someone’s mind. now, unnecessary negativity does not equal call outs/criticism!

8b. please criticize !

if something happens in the community, or from ranboo directly that hurts you or makes you uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to say something and help make us all better people! ranboo wants criticism. if it’s purely in the community, try reaching out to the other person first! often things can be settled privately so as to not hurt others by dragging them into the conversation or making things heated and causing people to attack each other. on the other side of this, if you see criticism from someone and feel the need to defend ranboo: don’t. if you are affected by something (ie. you are a person of color and the topic is racism) feel free to add to the conversation! if you do not have an opinion on something (ie lesbians call out lesbiphobia, and you are straight) keep it to yourself. let the people actually affected by something talk and have an opinion, and support them. it may feel like people are “attacking” ranboo (or you!) but they are not. they are real people with real, valid feelings, who want to feel safe in a community when in real life, they may be constantly victims of horrible things. listen first. if you still have your own opinions, reflect on them and why you feel the way you do, and dissect any implicit bias you may have. these are all important things that keep a community safe, happy, and mutually respectful!

ranboo encourages everyone to be good people and use common sense. remember when you say something, people other than ranboo see it too! every account has a person behind it, so treat each other with respect and help make the community a more fun and safe place for everyone to be in. ranboo has no tolerance for bigotry, racism, misogyny, antisemitism, ableism, and so on. remember to be aware of the things you are saying, and if you don’t know why something is wrong, look it up or try asking someone politely!

thank you for taking the time to read all of this! this list is non exhaustive. there are plenty of other things you can do in the community to make this a better place, from uplifting the minorities in the community more, to supporting artists by reblogging/sharing and commenting on their art, and more. at the end of the day though we are here because we love ranboo, so by following guidelines like these and putting in the effort, you show ranboo and the other people in the community you care and make everyone proud.

that’s all for now! keep boobing!

#ranboo #not updating ranboo #technically #sorry if any of this is worded weird! i wrote it at 4am

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 3 months

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I loved the larissa x lesso it was amazing!!!! Can we get another one, but maybe with the reader as well this time, and both lesso and larissa are submissive to the reader. Larissa is enjoying some pain and degrading and lesso prefering it softer with praise and degrading

My Good Little Sluts ~Sub!Larissa Weems x Sub!Lady Lesso xFem Dom!Reader

Summary— Reader helps Larissa and Leonora get some relief and destress in their free time. Both powerhouses just need some domination. Anon Response— Hey heyyy anon!! I love this request idea! Thank you! I know people have been talking about a Larissa drought, so I hope this fic feeds some of that Weems thirst you all are having. Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!!, smut, eating out, fingering, threesomes, sub/dom relations, pain, pain kink, crying, rope play, bondage/restraints, praise and degradation, gagging, gag ball use, orgasm denial, orgasm control, overstimulation, nipple clamps use, nipple play, implied smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

Leonora let out a soft groan as your tongue gently lapped away at her clit.

“AhHhhH yesss…” she hissed.

Lesso’s hands were cuffed, one hand of each bedpost. She was leaning back again the headboard with her legs spread wide, where you sat in the middle, toying with her precious pussy.

“Such a good little slut for me…” you purred, as you ran your tongue up the length of her exposed body, stopping at her left nipple and latching your mouth onto her hard bud simultaneously as you slipped two fingers into her core.

“OoHhhhHh fuck yessss…!” Lesso groans, eagerly bucking and grinding her hips against your hand.

You chuckled and continued your soft fucking, continuing to give her a mix of praise and degradation.

Suddenly, you both were drawn out of the moment by a desperate mewl from Larissa. You huffed and much to Leonora’s dismay, you pulled away and tuned around to face the tied up blonde.

Both Larissa and Leonora came to you in their free time, searching for domination. But they didn’t exactly look for the same thing past that…

Larissa was on her stomache, hair down, had her hands tied with rope behind her back, connected to her feet which were bound and being held up in the air by her hands. The position was painful and pleasurable at the same time. Just what Larissa liked. She had a gag ball in, along with nipple clamps connected by a chain on her nipples.

Your gaze met the tied up blonde’s.

“Such a silly slut… So desperate, she can’t help but cry out for attention…!” You purred, followed by a backhand smack! to Larissa’s cheek.

Larissa’s cunt clenched around nothing as she cried out through the cherry red ball gag. Tears were starting to form amongst the creases of her eyes.

“Such a pathetic little whore… You get off on all this pain, I know it… you know it… You’re my dirty girl aren’t you…?” You cooed wickedly, tugging at her nipple chain and making Larissa cry out again as she nodded vigorously.

She needed stimulation, so very bad. And you knew it. You knew Larissa was drenched. And that’s why you made her watch as you made Leonora cum over and over.

“Be and good whore and cum for me again, Leo…” you cooed, pumping three fingers in and out of the redheads pussy.

Leonora obeyed you and came all over your fingers, even squirting across the bed.

“Good girl…” you purred, then turning back to Larissa, pulling the chain of her nipple clamp with a smirk.

Larissa let out a distraught moan, her eyes squeezing shut as she was hit with spikes of pleasurable pain.

“What do you think, Leo… Does ‘Rissa deserve to cum tonight…?” You cooed smirkingly, looking back at the redhead who was leaning against the headboard panting heavily and still recovering from her latest climax.

Larissa swiftly looked over to Leonora. Her eyes were begging, pleading with the redhead to take her side. Leonora pretended to think about for a moment, before smirking.

“Make her watch a couple more times… Then make her beg for it…” Lesso hummed wickedly.

You smirked and agreed eagerly.

By the time Larissa was untied and allowed to speak, she begged and begged to cum. She pleaded at your knees, her mascara running down her face and her lips trembling.

And of course, you kept to your word, allowing the desperate blonde some release, as your tugged on her nipple clamp chain once more, sending the woman over the edge as Leonora was your good slut and ate her out.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

Leonora Lesso Masterlist

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denkies · 10 months

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The BSD 5 Opening, Tetsu no Ori, is a love song from Atsushi to Akutagawa

Let's start at the beginning of the song, with the accompanying scenes.

Putting Atsushi and Akutagawa with those specific lyrics was probably not a silly mistake done by complete coincidence. But let's keep going!

These lyrics specifically pertain to Atsushi's feelings after Akutagawa's death. Both "places" in these lyrics refer to the afterlife-- somewhere only seen after death, and somewhere Atsushi doesn't want Akutagawa to go.

"A place you can't go" can also be foreshadowing that Akutagawa doesn't go to the afterlife. He becomes a vampire. On that note, Atsushi believes that Akutagawa can be woken up from his brainwashed state-- and actually begins to succeed in chapter 108. He doesn't believe Akutagawa to be in the afterlife, because he has faith that he's still there.

The anime opening ends with those lyrics, but the full song continues. I'll be talking about some specific parts, which pertain to the topic.

This one is pretty quickly explained, as Akutagawa and Atsushi quite literally symbolize Yin and Yang, even physically. The line about being unable to ignore the "bug in the iron cage" comes up later!

Past tense, expressing the sorrow that came after the heat of battle. "The loss of ecstacy" seems to reference the 2 battles that they won against Fukuchi, as the ecstacy of winning was taken from them.

"That we can only be slaves to something; knowing that you will lose." is referencing these rewritten battles again -- Fukuchi tells them that they won, but he went back in time (chapter 87). In the lyrics, Atsushi recognizes that they are slaves to Fukuchi's sword, that they can't win.

"Knowing that you will lose" might also reference Atsushi's thoughts on Akutagawa's sacrifice. Atsushi knows that the escape route was only for him; that Akutagawa's first and foremost priory was getting Atsushi out alive. Knowing that he couldn't have saved Akutagawa from Fukuchi, because Akutagawa didn't want to be saved. He was going to lose, in every scenario, to keep Atsushi safe.

And finally, this part. "You've already taken flight; you've become a butterfly," again, referencing Akutagawa's death. Funnily enough, I think this also ties into Akutagawa not actually being dead. Butterflies symbolize the soul, death, and rebirth. All of these are relevant to him in vampire form, so equating him to a butterfly isn't too far off. It's also very pretty and sweet.

The line about the iron cage comes up again, this time, Atsushi revealing himself to be the "bug in the iron cage." The entire sequence seems to be about Atsushi's grief, that he can't ignore and is trapped in like a cage.

His desire to be free is also tied to him wishing to be reunited with Akutagawa. "You've already taken flight / If I could fly now, outside the iron cage..." I think it conveys that Atsushi wants to escape this grief, but only if it means reuniting with Akutagawa once more.

Lastly, as my evidence, the song title "Tetsu no Ori" (鉄の檻) literally means "Iron Cage". The song itself is about Atsushi being trapped in his grief, and love, after Akutagawa's death.

I rest my case.

#goddamn that took forever to write. hi.#if this essay flops or gets hate i will actually cry myself to sleep #oh yeah and that “kiss in the moonlight” line was also crazy #like how romantic can they get? sigh #shin soukoku #sskk #bsd #bungou stray dogs 5 #bungou stray dogs #bsd 5 #bsd season 5 spoilers #bsd season 5 #bsd s5 #akutagawa ryuunosuke #nakajima atsushi #atsuaku #covering my bases #a.txt

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jinkookspencil · 10 months

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til you make it | jjk

jungkook is startled when you call him in need of a favor... to play his dream role - your boyfriend - for a day...

tags/description: jk x chubby reader / fluff / friends to lovers / fake dating trope / rating: like pg13 or 15 with swear words / slow paced / it feels like one very long date :)) / this can be read as a oneshot but it ends in a way that sets up a part 2 which i will likely write but i still haven't gotten the chance to do so please bear with me / image from koomoments, i found it on goggle and edited it further

words: ~7.7k

tw+note: this fic includes fatshaming - detailed description: someone makes a comment about jk being out of oc/yn’s league and her not being good enough to date jungkook because of her size (the person says this to jk, behind oc/yn's back). oc/yn assumes people think that too, and talks to jungkook about her experiences dating as a plus-sized woman, mainly the fact that her ex was ashamed to go out with her. and in case anyone is wondering about where this fic comes from and any sensitivities regarding this fic, this is another fic that is loosely based on an experience i had myself... well, i wish this was what i had ~.~ i channeled my hurt into something comforting for myself and hopefully others. if anyone has ever been in a similar position and was fat-shamed or made to feel like they don't deserve good things because of your size, just know that you never deserved that treatment - you deserve all the good the world has to offer. lots of love always to my fellow curvy/plus/chubby people, and anyone who takes the time to read my fics <3

“Jungkook… Jungkook are you there?”

Your muffled voice echoed through his phone, thrown on the bed behind him as he searched his room frantically for his sweatpants. Talking to you on the phone wasn’t uncommon, but he jumped the moment he saw your name and when the clock on his bedside table confirmed the time. 3 AM. Later than you’d ever called. Dressing might’ve been a silly notion, but at this hour, his fight or flight response was triggered, and he couldn’t bring himself to think, let alone talk to you half-dressed. The urgency and/or intimacy of it all… frightened him.

“Yes! I’m here!” he calls out, hopping into his sweatpants before grabbing the phone and putting you up to his ear, feeling the cool glass of his screen nudged between his neck and his shoulder as he tied the strings at his stomach. “What’s up?”

“I need… a favor.”

“Anything.” He couldn’t have answered any faster. In the back of his mind, Jungkook hoped you’d called for another late-night talk, maybe one of your delirious, exhaustion-caused conversations where you’d fall asleep to his voice as he played along with whatever you’d wanted to talk about… Those were his favorites, even doing the same to you himself. Or maybe it was to inquire about one of his ramen recipes, going so far as to hope you’d ask him to come over and make it for you… In a perfect world, maybe. Well, if it were a perfect world, it’d be a confession.

A favor only made his heart race faster. Jungkook trusted his intuition in getting dressed, already walking to his front door, ready to go to you wherever you were... He already presumed you weren't drunk in a club and in need of someone to pick you up... you didn’t sound like it. The ramen recipe, perhaps? Though you sounded too anxious for it to be so. In any case, he meant his words - he’d do anything for you…

“It’s not serious, but it will take up some of your time tomorrow.”

“I said anything,” he reiterates, partly relieved.

“I’m invited to a wedding next week - my sister's best friend - and I need to get a dress. Do you mind coming to the mall with me tomorrow…”

That’s it? Jungkook joyously helped you pick out outfits, accessories, and even nail polish colors in the past, and every time he did - whether you’d asked or when he’d subtly recommended something he liked to you - his heart would flutter whenever he’d seen you actually take his advice, so he’d definitely agree, happily even…. but there had to be more to it.

“Well, I mean, of course….” he whispered quietly into the phone, his confusion apparent.

“Yeah, there’s more to it - don’t agree just yet...” In the moment of silence that followed, Jungkook silently prayed you’d ask him to go to the wedding with you. To be your plus one. Oh, what he’d give to spend the night beside you, the both of you all dolled up… Imagining the possible starlights at the scene with love in the air, he knew it’d be a great chance at finally confessing. If he chickened out, at least he’d be able to imagine what it’d be like to be your boyfriend for a night.

“Would you…. Would it be okay if you pretended to be my boyfriend?” Jungkook felt his stomach turn at the thought of the heavens answering his prayers that quickly and immediately regretted not asking for more. He almost missed what you’d said next. “If we go shopping tomorrow…. Would it be okay for you to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“When… when we go shopping?” Jungkook choked, knowing you could hear his confusion through the phone once again.

“Yeah… You see… Most times when I go shopping… someone always has something to say about my body, and I’m kind of sick of it. ‘You won’t find anything in our store. Please leave.’ ‘I’m surprised this fits you.’ And then, just last week, I got the ‘Honey, no dress could flatter you enough that you’d be able to pull a man.’ That got me thinking, and…. I kinda suspect you, or someone, a man, being there with me might shut them up… some weird form of using the patriarchy and people’s internalized misogyny to, weirdly enough, protect my peace.”

Jungkook felt his blood boil as you went on. You, the most beautiful person he’d ever met, were being shamed… spoken to in that way…. often? People went out of their way to make you feel bad…. for having a body?

“What the fuck…”

“Yeah… I’m a bit embarrassed, actually… Should we forget it? Pretend I never asked. If it’s too much, I could just go alone - if I experience it, I experience it. I’m used to it. I just want to… try this as an experiment.”

“Don’t ever feel embarrassed. You don’t have to be. I feel embarrassed for not… for not knowing... I’m so fucking sorry you… ever had to go through that.” He’d felt a pang in his heart as the words left his mouth. An idiot was what he thought he was. It was something he’d never spared a thought about - how people, how you, could be mistreated in everyday life for simply existing as you were….

“No, don’t be sorry, Jungkook. It is what it is.”

It is what it is? It shouldn’t be, he thought.

“Of course I’ll be there, ____. Of course, I’ll be your boyfriend.” He told you he’d do anything for you, and he meant it - he needed you to know that - and this was the very least he could do. “And hey, for the record, I’ll never let that ever happen to you again, you hear me? You just call me, okay? Anytime. I’ll do whatever I can. You’re not going through this shit again, okay? I'm your boyfriend whenever you want me to be... ”

Did you take the hint?

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you say, with an exhale and a slight giggle that gives away that you’d been choked up, the final nail in the coffin for Jungkook’s composure…

It wasn't the right time to confess, he knew that, but an ‘I love you’ still rested at the tip of his tongue. Friends loved each other... 'I love you' was always a comforting thing to hear... would it be so awkward now? You both have told each other variations of the saying in the past - from ‘love ya’s’ to random finger hearts in crowded rooms- but never the exact phrase. It held too much weight - the weight of the confession that, similarly, he’d been dying to relay…. but he reminded himself... it wasn't the right time.

“I told you… anything”

“I’ll see you tomorrow… boyfriend.”

✿

“Hi… girlfriend.”

Jungkook didn’t even try to hide the smile on his face. It’d hopefully overshadow the bags under his eyes… He’d been up for hours after your call - pressure, joy, anger, and pain overwhelming him all at once as he imagined what you might’ve gone through before, what undeserving, cruel words you’d heard from people too blind to see the sheer beauty before them. It hurt him even more that you felt embarrassed about asking him for help. You never should’ve been embarrassed about a damn thing. If anything had been embarrassing at the situation, it was the time he’d spent in front of his mirror, rehearsing vague, angry threats and snide comments he might have had to make, tapping out after a cringey “that’s my girlfriend” line.

Jungkook was never one to insult and intimidate others so purposefully, his enigmatic baby villain-like exterior always doing the work instead. It'd work whether they saw him as the lovestruck, caring sweetheart he was or the tough, protective boyfriend he could also be... but he knew the tattoos, piercings, and his physique probably aided him with the latter option, with Jungkook himself assuming it was the reason you'd asked him specifically to help out, especially over Taehyung, your mutual friend who also happened to be an actor... And busy on a late-night shoot, Tae left him helpless. He could not prepare any speech or insult to save his life, stuck between how to go about his dream role. You'd trusted him, and Jungkook decided he had no choice but to trust himself too. Whatever he emulated was up to the other person, and whatever came out of him would be the truth he’d been feeling at the moment. Whether he leaned into either side - either knowingly or unknowingly - all of it was still him, and specifically him as a boyfriend... That killed the nerves more than anything and allowed him to focus on the silver lining. He’d gotten the role he’d always wanted, and though there could have been better contexts, you looked as beautiful as ever in your flowy sundress… even as you did roll your eyes.

“Boyfriend,” you greeted him jokingly, smiling too before looking at him up and down. “What do you have going on today, Koo? I can't tell if you just came from the gym or not.”

Jungkook shakes his head in response, a proud, bunny-toothed smirk on his face. After ransacking his entire wardrobe that morning, he paired his go-to ripped jeans with a Nike muscle tee, clutching his motorcycle jacket in his hand. It wasn’t like him to wear sleeveless tops outside of the gym, still shy to show off the muscles he’d worked so hard for, as well as the tattoos he’d designed himself…. but provided he was there to intimidate others - and hopefully impress you - he had no doubts about showing them off and his mish-mash of an outfit. “This is just in case anyone even thought about saying anything to you today,” he added, flexing his muscles before spreading his arms wide open. “Come here.”

It didn’t pass Jungkook’s eye that you’d hesitated to step into his arms, but when you do, he finds himself inhaling deeply - your scent, but more so the feeling of you. With you in his arms, everything fell into place, as it always had with you.

“I’ve always got you. I have your back, you know that right?” he whispered into your neck, digging his fingertips as hard as he could into your soft, plush skin, hoping it’d emphasize his promise when he noted how your heartbeat hadn’t slowed as it always did when you hugged.

You hadn’t said a word the entire time, even as you pulled away and glanced up at him - ever so briefly. He'd have waited until you said something first, but he’d always read your face with ease, and the panic he sensed emanating from you only agonized him further. Once again, he tries to push away the scenarios you must’ve gone through.

He murmurs your name, sparking your attention. Remembering his role for the evening, Jungkook allowed himself to follow an urge he’d always resisted, brushing a stray hair away from your face, cupping your round chin in his hands. It felt too good - a taste of his forbidden imagined scenarios and the person he'd always dreamt of.

“Always, okay? I won’t allow my girlfriend to go through this,” he said, forcing himself to emphasize the title he wanted to give you in a teasing way. Again, you roll your eyes and push his hand away.

“We’re just testing a theory, Koo,” you say, starting to walk with him alongside you. “Don’t… get too into it.”

“Are you kidding? The acting classes I took years ago are finally coming in handy. This is good practice,” he said, wishing he could just tell you that he likely wouldn’t be acting at all - merely doing all the things he wished he could do on a regular basis. He kicked it off by grabbing your wrist, intertwining your fingers into his.

Jungkook had been so cool, so collected until this moment. It was only until he actually did it that Jungkook realized that hand-holding was expected, and he cursed himself for not spending more time prepping himself in front of the mirror. It was such a simple act, what he always wanted to do.... and so it drove him crazier than the hug. You’d hugged in the past, as friends do, but never held hands... not like this, at least. Taehyung had urged him to try doing so in the past, to ‘gauge your response,’ but he’d always been too much of a coward to do anything besides ask for high-fives and offer his elbow for you to hold when he walked you home. You were braver, taking his hand and tracing his tattoos whenever your talks went a little too deep or needed a distraction…. just as you did now, with your finger rubbing the skin below his thumb... Still, this felt different for the both of you.

Jungkook bit at his lips, trying to hold back….something. He himself wasn’t even sure if it was a smile or a squeal, but he soon remembered the point of his presence. The favor. A boyfriend - he, as a boyfriend - would never be able to keep his eyes off of his loved one. So, he’d allowed himself to steal glances your way, noting every single time how low you’d kept your head as you walked.

"Hey," he says, stopping.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiles, taking in your expression and the way the sunlight beautifully shone on your face. "I just wanted to look at you."

"Okay, Bradley Cooper in A Star is Born," you chuckle, nudging him to continue your walk. "You need to watch more movies."

"And you need to know that you look really pretty today. You do know you're pretty, right?"

"Oh, shut up, Koo... I know."

Jungkook didn't know if you believed him or if you were serious or not, but he knew damn well that he was... Perhaps he was overdoing it already, but remembering how quickly his prayers had been answered just the night before, he held out hope that the universe still had his back, silently praying you’d soon realize see how good of a “fake” boyfriend he was and asked him to be your real one.

“This is the main store I wanted to visit, Koo,” you say, stopping in front of a modern gold and beige storefront on the busy high street. Suddenly, he felt an emptiness in his hand and at his side when you let go to reach out and pull open the glass door. Already half open, he forcefully tugs the brass handle as far back as he could, holding the door open for you to walk in first.

“I’m your boyfriend, remember? Let me do it,” he whispers by your ears and into the stony silence of the cool room.

Looking around, Jungkook quickly saw plenty of dresses that’d look great on you. It was overwhelming at first glance, but the one you pulled out from a nearby rack trumped them all. A blush, floor-length tulle dress, with tiny embroidered daisies scattered all over the fabric, including the translucent balloon sleeves and an off-shoulder neckline. It was almost as beautiful as you were.

“I knew they had this in stock! What do you think?” you smile, putting it up against your body. For the first time that day, Jungkook’s mind went blank - he was suddenly grateful you hadn’t asked him to accompany you to the wedding. It’d be too much to see you in it.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, holding the fabric between his index and thumb, tracing over a tiny daisy.

“Right? I’ll go try it on. Wait here, okay?” you say, moving to leave but quickly returning to place a swift kiss on his cheek.

Jungkook was so taken aback he did nothing even long after he’d seen you approach the sales assistant in the back and disappear into a dressing room.

“You can sit over here,” said the woman, who now returned and pointed at the arrangement of chairs a few steps away.

“Thanks,” he whispered, only now realizing his hand had been on his cheek, tracing the ghost of your kiss. You’d kissed his cheek. He’d been happily playing the role of the boyfriend the entire time, he hadn’t realized you hadn’t done much to play the role of ‘the girlfriend’ in return. But you did it. You kissed him. You wanted to, at least in that moment…

Jungkook tried not to linger on the thought any longer, knowing it’d feed his delusions. Pulling out his phone as he plopped onto the velvet seat, he loaded up the mobile game he’d been struggling with, and it was a few minutes later when he realized someone had been calling him.

“Sorry?” Jungkook asked, looking up to see the sales assistant leaning on the couch opposite him.

“I said ‘Hey,’” she repeats.

“Hey…” he responds, perplexed until he realizes you might've been calling him. “Is she okay in there? Does she need me?”

“Uhm, I don't think so,” she replies, seemingly just as confused as he was. “But… I was wondering… what’s her deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is she rich or something?”

“What?”

“I mean, what’s the catch, exactly? Why are you with her?”

“Because I love her? There's no catch.” It was freeing to say the words so openly, Jungkook thought - they’d left his lips without a thought. Still, what's it to her?

“Oh, come on,” she went on, rolling her eyes. “You know you’re out of her league. Just keep her for 'her kind' and the fetish freaks on the Internet, you know? You’re too hot to-“

In utter disbelief and refusing to hear another word, Jungkook stood up and made a beeline for the dressing room, his long strides and huffs echoing throughout the store in response.

“Hey, babe - need any help with the dress?” he asks a little too loudly, knocking on the dressing room door in the same fashion.

“....Yeah, actually. Can you get the woman that works here?” you say on the other side.

“No. Let me in.”

“Jungkook, just call her.”

“Let me in. I’m your boyfriend,” he emphasizes. “Let your boyfriend help.”

“…This dress is supposed to be a surprise, honey,” you reply.

“Babe, I already saw the dress,” he half-chuckles, almost forgetting his anger. You were clever as hell but never thought of the wittiest comebacks - it was endearing.

Jungkook rushed through the moment you pried open the wooden door, turning the metal lock behind him. Still lost in his thoughts, he mindlessly zips up your dress before stomping to the room’s bench, sitting upon it with his head in his hands.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he lies, feeling just how furrowed his brows had been as he stared at the floor.

“You don’t seem like it. Why’d you insist on coming in here?” you say by the mirror a few footsteps away.

“.....Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit, this was uncool. I just wanted to get out of there. The… uh… scents on their diffuser were too much. My nose acted up... started sneezing.” It was hard to lie to you. He’d rushed over because he always had, for you were his safe space even now, but it surely was to prove something too. His eyes darted around the cramped dressing room, trying to look anywhere but you... he was too ashamed. “I'm so sorry, ____. This was my first thought. I didn’t even think that you were obviously getting dressed. Should I leave?”

“Koo, honey, relax. I don't know what's up, but... I don't think I want you to leave," you softly whisper.

Pink obstructed his vision, the spot on the carpet he'd been so focused on. Daisies made him snap out of his rage. And the hand on his knee interrupted the voice in his head that’d been on a tirade on the injustices of the world. But looking up at you, the world suddenly seemed so beautiful - you were in it.

“I'd never leave, then,” he says with a smile. “I’m fine.”

The reassurance was enough for you to get up from your crouched position by his legs and return to the mirror.

“We both know you can't lie, so I need you to tell me how I look in this dress. My curves stick out a little more than I’d like, and I don’t know how I feel about the whole arm situation. But I think I’ll get it. Nice, huh?”

“Nice." Repeating your description was the only thing he could do, unable to think of anything else to say. You were covered in flowers, yet here you stood, prettier than every single flower he’d seen in his entire life, let alone the ones on your dress. The dress did cling to your body at certain angles, and that’s what made it even all the more alluring. He had no idea what you’d meant by 'the whole arm situation' - the skin he’d always wanted to bite on was even more tempting through the translucent fabric… and with your shoulders out... it was a sight too good to be true. A wave of envy rushed over him, thinking of all the wedding guests that'd see you in the dress for hours while he only got a glimpse... They had no idea just how damn lucky they were, but Jungkook knew that he was as well, grateful for this very moment and trying to take a photographic memory of how you looked, twirling so alluringly in the room with him alone.

“Beautiful, actually,” he quickly adds.

"Good. If your nitpicky Virgo ass thinks it's a beautiful dress, then that means it really is pretty,” you say, satisfied.

It wasn't the dress that was so beautiful...

He opens his mouth to correct you, but nothing comes out, and you speak before he does. “Uhm, help me with the zipper again?”

Jungkook’s anger had blinded him when he’d zipped it up - the intimacy of the moment only just sinking in when he stood behind you, facing the back of your neck and shoulders. He was unzipping your dress - granted, not in the context he’d always imagined, but he couldn’t help but do it at the speed he’d always wanted to… slow and steady. What felt like an eternity later, just a few centimeters from the top of the dress, Jungkook sees lace peeking through. Abruptly letting go of the metal in his hands, Jungkook inhales, trying to shove away the image, but it must’ve been the hardest thing he’d ever tried to do. He never imagined you were the type to wear a strapless, lacy maroon bra. He didn’t even think bras came in that color. The rare times he dared to take his imagination that far, only for fleeting moments, he’d mentally dress you up in pink or black… Maroon was, somehow, sexier. This... this was too good to be true.

But Jungkook, always so detail-oriented, quickly spots a tiny piece of metal at your waist. Another zipper. Did he zip that one up as well? His fingers pull the zipper down, only for your hand to cover his, stopping him.

*“*Thank you, Koo... I got it from here,” you say with a hush.

"I'm sorry," he says in a similar fashion, stepping away.

"Don't be. But, uhm... I’ll get dressed. You don’t have to leave, but… can you... look away?”

“Of course,” Jungkook panics, turning around to face the abstract art on the wall. He tried his hardest to make sense of the colorful shapes in front of him, but all he could take in were the sounds behind him. Soft fabric, falling onto the carpeted floor. The brushing of bare feet… bare thighs. Fabrics, zippers, a clanky hanger…. He reckoned that if he tried hard enough, he might’ve been able to hear the humming of a radiator that must’ve been hidden behind these walls - he could certainly feel the heat, wiping away a bead of sweat. Another zipper. Probably the actual source of all the heat.

“Done, Koo,” he hears softly from behind him.

With a blink, Jungkook realized the shapes in front of him clearly made up a cityscape.

“Koo,” you call again, and he finally turns around to face you, hoping his face hadn’t been as flushed as yours was. You’d been changing - what excuse did he have? The giggle you let out confirms his suspicions, which he tried to cough away... until he gets an idea.

"Oh, hey, wear this," Jungkook says, handing you his leather jacket.

"W-why would I?" you ask.

Because I always wanted you to wear my clothes, I finally have an excuse to ask you to do so, and this will drive me and everyone else crazy, Jungkook thinks.

"It's cold outside," he utters.

"Jungkook, it's almost summer... why else would I be wearing a sundress?"

"It can get breezy! And hey, you want my opinion on fashion? Your outfit will look better with this on." Not exactly what he wanted to say.... "You know... sundress and leather jacket? Pretty and tough... Juxtaposition... It's a thing. It's... what couples do."

"I don't know if it'll fit, Koo," you say quietly, staring at the piece of clothing in his hands.

"Drape it over your shoulders, then," he says, doing it himself. He guessed that it would have fit you but didn't insist on it then and there - even if it hadn't, he'd always find ways to make you feel loved as his girlfriend... And you looked adorable in his jacket.

"Looks even better this way, actually..." you murmur, brushing away the hair from your face, clearly flustered. It gives Jungkook the exact rush and confidence he needs. He unlocks the door, taking your hand as he walks out of the dressing room together - more than ready to nail his dream role once again.

“It was a perfect fit - I’ll buy this for sure,” you say to the sales assistant with a smile, placing the dress on the marble counter. Jungkook could feel you try to let go of his hand, but he wouldn’t budge and only held on tighter - he’d let you struggle with your purse one-handedly if it meant he was holding your hand.

It only helped him reach for his wallet with his free hand quicker, handing the woman his black card after she’d announced the price.

“Jungkook, no,” you whispered, hand deep in your purse, the other still trapped by his grasp.

“Baby, it’s only fair that I pay,” he starts, in a low, hushed tone just loud enough to be heard as he takes in your quizzical expression with a smirk on his face. “…Since I’ll be ripping it off of you later.”

Jungkook can't help but chuckle, seeing you go catatonic beside him after letting out a comically loud gulp in response. He doesn’t need to look at the sales assistant’s face to know she’d been startled as well, almost forgetting to hand him the receipt. Putting away his card and wallet single-handedly, Jungkook quickly looks back at you when he realizes your hand has turned limp in his. He’d only ever seen you so petrified when he’d suggested you watch a horror film together, in the hopes of you curling up in his arms - but he’d always stupidly ruin the moment with a laugh seeing your frozen state and wide eyes, just like now…

“I love seeing my girl all flustered. You looked so beautiful in it, honey... Just wait til Sunday,” he laughs with a wink, wrapping an arm around you to pull your body closer to his and finally place a kiss on your head. He didn’t even know if the wedding was on a Sunday - if the lie fits… “Excuse me, do you know if there are any lingerie stores nearby? A place they’d sell something that suits the dress? I’m not done treating her - well, the both of us, really….”

“There’s a place two blocks down,” the woman says with her face flushed, and Jungkook yanks the bag into his hands the moment he is able to do so.

“Thanks,” you whisper, seemingly to both him and the woman. Reaching for your hand once again, Jungkook intertwines your fingers in his, occupying both of his hands and awkwardly following you out.

The two of you walk side by side in silence, replaying the moment until the store is out of sight and Jungkook finally realizes the gravity of what he’d said.

“____... Sorry about… what I said back there. I really didn't mean to be disrespectful... I should’ve checked in with you first before just saying that shit. It was just where my mind went to, and...Wait… Fuck.. please don’t think I had those thoughts when-”

“You didn’t?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t have those thoughts?”

Jungkook could so easily read your face most times, but this wasn’t one of them. Did you want him to have those thoughts about you? Should he lie? Were you just playing the role of the girlfriend, even now? Should he answer as the boyfriend or just Jungkook or…

“Relax, Koo. It was just unexpected… a little jerky, if it wasn’t you or if I hadn’t asked you to pretend… I thought the maroon suits the dress, though,” you pout.

“It does!” Jungkook blurts. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Jungkook. That was actually nice,” you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm, interrupting his train of thought.

“Nice?”

“Yeah… this is all…. this is very nice,” you hum, tugging at his leather jacket on your shoulders before wrapping your hands around his arm.

Was it really happening?

“I know you’re just faking it, but… it feels good to be treated this way. To have a boy… treat me like this… publicly.”

“Publicly? What do you mean?” he asks, ignoring the urge to deny he’d been faking anything. “You had boyfriends before, no? What about your ex? Mr. Organic Shoes?” Jungkook could never remember the guy's name, remembering how distant the two of you had been at that time.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “No… no, he never… he never did this. He convinced me I wanted a too-private relationship - you remember, I barely told anyone anything… I barely saw you or Tae... anyone. We barely went out, not for our anniversary, not to events, dinners….. nothing. The rare times we did, he’d never even hold my hand. I went along with it, figured that was his dating style and that he was just that shy, but - surprise, surprise - he goes everywhere with his new actress girlfriend, as proven by me drunkenly Insta-stalking him the other night. I like nights in more than anyone, but it was clear he just wanted me in private. In the breakup, he actually admitted he’d be ashamed to go out with me. It was that messy.”

“What the fuck does that idiot have to be ashamed about?” Jungkook fumed, even more so when you laugh in response.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, ____….. Fuck that guy, honestly,” Jungkook spits out, surveying the area he stood in and considering if it was possible to somehow track the asshole down and beat him up then and there, but with you still latched onto him so tightly…. he wouldn’t leave for anything. “You were always way too good for him, for anyone… I wish I’d told you sooner.”

“Thanks, Koo,” you whisper, hiding your face against his arm for a fraction of a second. He didn’t have the guts to face you at that moment either, knowing he’d kiss you all over just to show you how loudly and publicly you deserved to be loved if that's what you wanted.

“Thanks for today, too. My theory seems to be correct… I wasn't fat-shamed, so ‘yay’ to being treated with basic human decency. But that means you'll likely have to join me again in the future. Congratulations, Koo - you're one-off acting gig turned into a regular role in the _____ Cinematic Universe. What favor do you want in return? What’s your price, Jeon?”

“Oh, I'm never letting you shop without me ever again. See how good my leather jacket is on you? Forget being a boyfriend, my fashion advice is like no other. No... no, this is a Marvel contract now. I'm in this for life... but we agree this isn’t a one-off cameo? Spider-Kook is the star of this universe, alongside you? Just the two of us?"

"What, do you want me to get another guy to pretend to be my boyfriend?"

Fuck no. Jungkook shakes his head.

"I’m still your boyfriend for the day, aren’t I?"

".. What did you have in mind?"

“....I wanna show you something.”

✿

Nagging usually works on Jungkook. Well, nagging was a bit of an exaggeration - he caved in quickly when it came to your requests, seemingly forgetting his sheer signature willpower. But now, even you would admit that you’d been unrelenting… you couldn’t help it. Jungkook had been very vague about ‘what he wanted to show you,' the favor you'd pay in return for his current and future fake boyfriend gigs. But he wouldn't budge, even going so far as to finally resign with a smile and tell you to ‘just shut up and let him lead.’ Jungkook had always been down to do whatever you wanted to do - a true highlight in your friendship - but now, your heart fluttered at him taking the lead…. and even more so when he took you by the hand and excitedly, physically led you to all the places he did… his hand never leaving yours.

First, he took you to a bookstore - nailing the part of the perfect boyfriend with that choice alone, then taking it further when he went on to say he’d treat you to two books - one of your own choosing, the other of his. Something straight out of a romance book, as your day had been thus far.... and Jungkook must've caught on. Of all the books in all the aisles, he had to pick out “Fake It Til You Make It” - the fake dating romance book that inspired all this, only the roles were reversed… In truth, you could’ve easily asked Taehyung to pretend to be your boyfriend and help test out your experiment instead - the two of you were friends as well, and though your relationship was strictly platonic, Tae was an actual actor… But you had to jump at the chance that there might be a teeny, tiny possibility that life imitates fiction and your crush would see you in a new light. And if he hadn’t ended up thinking that dating you might not be too bad of an option… at least you’d get a day of what you’d always longed for. It was a risk. You’d never been able to hide your emotions and already got teary-eyed a number of times, seeing Jungkook act as noble as he’d always been… even better than the perfect boyfriend you’d imagined him to be. It was getting harder and harder to muster up the courage to ask him to accompany you to the wedding as well…

The second place Jungkook led you to was a photo booth studio. He spent way too much money on many different takes and overpriced photo strips, trying different decorations, poses, and photo options. If his arm around your shoulder weren’t holding onto you so firmly, you’d have bolted when he’d insisted on taking a ‘couples version,’ as if the rest weren’t torturously coupley enough. He must have found you out, and it was getting embarrassing.

“I guess…. To back up this lie,” you’d said sheepishly, trying to remind yourself of the situation.

“Sit on my lap and sit still,” he’d instructed, helping you onto his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

Looking off to the side, you couldn’t tell what Jungkook did for the first photo - probably a funny face. For the second, he turned your face to his with his fingers underneath your chin, and you heard the camera click. His features seemed softer, a twinkle present in his eyes… you’d missed the countdown once again, and suddenly Jungkook’s lips were on your cheek, your face held in his hand. He let out a loud mwah you could still feel against your skin after he backed away.

“You kissed my cheek earlier, so…” he quickly mumbled.

A stinging feeling hadn’t left your face. It was hard to say whether it was the lingering feeling of Jungkook’s lips or its effect, the smile you couldn’t stop from appearing on your face.

“Here,” Jungkook whispers, handing you one of the two duplicate photo-strips.

Oh… he was looking at me in that first photo. Why do we look so in love? Holy shit, is he a good actor. Oh hey, how did I not realize he’d also been smiling when he kissed my cheek?

“Put it on the back of your phone,” you hear.

“To back up the lie,” he says, repeating your own words when you finally look at him through your lashes, catching him slip his copy into his wallet as you did into your phone case. Before you were able to process what he’d just done and the photos staring back at you, he wrapped his around your wrist, pulling you out of the tight space.

It was still hard to tell what Jungkook had wanted to show you…. More glimpses of something you could never have, perhaps…

✿

Jungkook was running out of time. He wanted to do so much more for you. He’d imagined taking you out on so many different types of dates and crammed in as many as he could with the time he had left in the day, the possibly pivotal hours that he hoped would awaken something in you.

It was hard not to get carried away, as he always had a tendency to... He’d begun speculating that he actually was in a dream in the bookstore when he found the novel with a story eerily similar to his exact predicament. Ever the believer in fate, Jungkook took it as a sign that he was doing the right thing…. and if all that he was doing couldn’t wake you up, surely the book would... Then at the photobooth… Jungkook could have sworn you’d felt like a real couple then - you’d just been goofing around together, as you always had…. In such a cramped space filled with laughter and love, he’d finally mustered up the courage to kiss you back. He could have sworn he’d seen you smile so wide after that, and that made him happier than the kiss did. Maybe he had a shot....

The third stop was a quick run to the grocery store, which he knew would confuse you most of all. He mindlessly grabbed both of your favorite snacks and drinks in a rush before dashing out, thanking the heavens that he'd made it exactly where he wanted to be, right on time after that.

The park, before sunset.

As expected, the place was packed with couples, families, and friend groups all gathered around and enjoying golden hour. The cool sun shined through marshmallow-like clouds high in the warmly-hued sky. Laughter, music, and joy could be heard all around you - the sounds of happiness, home, and peace.

A perfect spring day.

A perfect opportunity.

Once you'd set up camp and his impromptu picnic, Jungkook leaned back and silently motioned to you to lean against his chest. You do so, cuddling right against him and making Jungkook feel so whole. He'd urged you to read the book he picked out, but you settled on the second one and suggested he give the other a go himself. Jungkook was never a reader, and he would read if you'd asked him to do so sincerely... but he put the book down five pages in. Why would he read a book, especially one that you needed, when he could bask in the beauty of his reality right there in that very moment?

Only thinking this far, Jungkook didn't know what to do after this, but he knew one thing: he’d never felt more alive nor more at peace.

"It's beautiful, Koo."

Jungkook opens his eyes, after closing them briefly as he took in the moment to see you staring up at the orange-pink sky.

"Yeah, it is. You're prettier, though," he says.

"Thanks, boyfriend," you scoff. "Thanks for showing me this... Thank you for the favor. Thank you for everything, Koo. I have to say that again.”

"The sky isn't exactly what I wanted to show you today, _____."

"Oh? Well, what is it?"

“Look at me, _____.”

Startled by his sudden command, you sit up to face him. He couldn’t say what he needed to say without seeing, knowing you believed him… Your eyes always told the truth.

“All of it... All of this... This day was what I wanted to show you. I wanted to show you… the kind of love you deserve. The kind of boyfriend you deserve. Actually, no - this isn’t even half of what you deserve. This is just the shit I could think of on the spot on a Monday afternoon. You deserve so much more, _____. I want to show that to you. I want to… I want you to know that. You don’t need to thank me for anything. The favor wasn’t even a favor. You deserve to have someone do that for you, no questions asked. I said ‘always,’ didn’t I? You deserve to go on dates, a boyfriend who loves you loudly and proudly.”

When your ears perked up, Jungkook knew you were listening. Really listening. But the tears on your face interrupted his train of thought. He needed to do something.

“Here,” he starts, clearing his throat as he stands up. “I LOVE HER, WORLD - I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND! I AM IN LOVE WITH HER!” Jungkook’s voice echoed loud enough for every surrounding person to turn to him after his very loud declaration towards the sun.

“Jungkook!” you quietly protest, pulling him back down with a shocked smile on your face.

“I don’t know if you want exactly that….” he says, a proud, bashful smile still on his face as he reaches for your hand. “But you deserve it, regardless. Even if it’s not with me…. That’s what I wanted to show you. I wanted to show the love you deserve.”

Jungkook thanked the heavens for having his back once again. He'd imagined confessing a million different ways, but he'd never have imagined for it to go so smoothly and in such a spontaneously romantic setting. For such an important moment, he was thankful he could read you like a book once again. You took in every word, and your eyes began to water. This was it.

“Even if it’s not with you?”

Wait... what?! What did he say?! What did you say?!

"_____?”

Jungkook had been just as startled as you’d been at the calling of your name. It came from a woman who’d been sitting behind you, someone he had noticed earlier who had been clearly listening in on his confession, even smiling widely with the man beside her when he jumped up and declared his love so loudly. She… knew you?

"Rina?” you say, the shock you’d already been in still present on your face. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s our last date night before the wedding! Picnic in the park - a classic, isn't it? You would know, boo! You have a boyfriend! You're doing the same!”

You turn, mouth agape, to face Jungkook. “Oh, we’re….”

“Oh, don’t bother denying it. We all heard loverboy’s declaration - straight out of a 1980s film. I love it! I won't tell your sister if you don't want me too,” she cheers, smiling at Jungkook. “Oh wait, you aren’t even hiding it, are you? Look at your phone case!”

The photos of you in his arms, him kissing your cheek, were displayed right there through your crystal clear phone case on your lap. Behind his now bashful smile, Jungkook felt a thrill at the exposure.

“Oh, don’t be so shy now, you two,” the man speaks now. “You reminded us of ourselves.”

“____! He's just your type! What’s your name, cutie?” the woman, Rina, asks.

“Oh, it’s Jungkook.”

"Jungkook, I'm Rina. I'm friends with _____ and her sister! I assume you're coming to our wedding next week? _____ must have told you about it already. As long as you’re _____’s boyfriend, you’re welcome. Jae & I are going all out and want as many people there as possible!”

Jungkook had no idea what he must've done in his life, or a past one, for the universe to have his back like this. It’s exactly what he’d wanted… except it didn’t come from you. With all eyes on him, his dart to you, relieved and euphoric to see you smile and nod.

“I, I, I’d love to…"

“Great! I guess we’ll see you then, loverboy. Bye, my love,” Rina says, turning back to give you a hug. “I know me and your sister are the ones who taught you not to hear anything a man has to say but…. He’s a good one. Keep him. Listen to Jungkook, huh?”

Jae leads Rina away, the two of them waving goodbye and turning back until they are out of sight. But Jungkook can’t face you yet. He confessed…. didn’t he? He knew you were listening, but it still felt as though his words remained in the air, unfinished. Did you finally get it? Rina did. The whole damn park did. At least he’d gotten what he wanted. One more gig… One more gig to perfect it.

“I guess you’re my date…. loverboy.”

#jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts scenario #jungkook x reader #bts

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

Text

sister-in-law | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader one shot

pairing: boyfriend!carmy x fem!reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, tooth rotting fluff, talks of marriage, marijuana usage, long term relationship

summary: set two years after the ending of ‘make my heart surrender.’ you and carmy have settled into a comfortable rhythm between creating something spectacular with the bear and exploring your relationship. now that you’ve been together for a while now, sugar asks you a very important question… while you’re both violently high.

a/n: this is a fun and silly little idea i had after discovering two year old videos of me and my best friend 60 minutes after taking an edible.

It’s not often that you get dressed up, but you don’t want Natalie to think that you’re a total slob. You’re mostly in comfy clothes at home, then kitchen clothes here at the restaurant so it’s a welcomed change up from the status quo. Every now and then you get dressed up for a date night with Carmy, but most date nights you’re so tired that you prefer to stay in.

After slipping on the wrap dress you found at the back of your shared closet with Carmy, you run your fingers through your hair making sure that it isn’t too messy from a full morning and afternoon’s worth of work. You notice that your hair falls in soft waves from being twisted into a bun earlier that morning, so you smooth out a few stray hairs that look a little too messy. You slip on your leather jacket, as it’s getting chillier at night, and make your way out of the bathroom.

If you didn’t know how hard Gary worked to keep everything clean, you’d have your hesitations about changing in the staff restroom. While most of the restaurant had gotten a face lift during the remodel, the staff restroom was one of the remaining parts of The Bear’s past. You pass through the kitchen one more time, your pristine white sneakers clean only because you never wear them here, heading right to Carmy’s office.

He’s got his head buried in some paperwork, a pen in his mouth as his eyes scan over the legal jargon that runs all through the first page. A stray curl frames his face perfectly, earning a smile from you as his focus remains unbroken.

“You still cool with me taking the car tonight?” you ask your boyfriend, causing Carmy to look up from the new lease agreement he has yet to sign.

“Woah,” he sounds, raising his eyebrows as he checks you out. He’s not used to seeing you like this – let alone in a dress.

He wonders for a moment if he forgot an anniversary of some sort, panic beginning to set in.

“What’s uh-, what’s going on?” he stammers, caught completely off guard by how good you look.

You chuckle, knowing he’s only a little tongue tied because he hasn’t seen you in a dress in a while, “I’m heading to your sister’s, remember? For dinner. We talked about this last night.”

“Shhhhhhit,” he swears, hanging on to the first syllable. He tosses the lease agreement down on his desk in defeat, turning in his chair towards you. “I-, I just talked to Sugar earlier today. She didn’t say anything about dinner plans.” He pauses, swearing under his breath again. “Will you tell her I’m sorry? It must’ve slipped my mind and I’ve got to stay a little longer till Syd gets in.”

“Oh don’t worry about it, babe. You weren’t invited anyways,” you reply casually, letting him off the hook.

Or at least you think it’s going to let him off the hook.

You watch as his facial expressions move from panic to pure confusion. Carmy’s racking his brain for any kind of recollection, searching for any recollection of the conversation you’re referencing. Between training new line cooks and working overtime so that Sydney could take a vacation, his brain is fried and he has no idea what you’re talking about.

You giggle again, stepping into his office, “I take it you don’t remember the conversation we had before we went to bed last night?”

Truthfully, you suspected he might’ve been half asleep when you’d curled up to him and let him know that you and his sister had plans tonight. He’d been working so hard at the restaurant lately that you’re not surprised he’s reached this level of burnout.

“Baby, Nat invited me over for dinner tonight. We’re gonna hang out… catch up a little,” you explain pivoting to the whole ‘you’re not invited part.’ “If it makes you feel any better, Pete’s not invited either.”

You search his facial expressions, looking for any kind of familiarity, but it seems your words have only caused him more confusion.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” he says, trying to put all the pieces together.

“You’re going over to my sister’s?” he repeats back to you.

“Uh huh.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Without me,” he emphasizes.

“That is correct.”

He takes a beat, before finally coming to his conclusion.

“You and my sister have plans together without me?”

You laugh at how surprised he sounds.

“Jeez, Carm. You’d think after knowing her for two years we’d be able to have a conversation without you, babe,” you joke with him.

But he still looks like he’s trying to solve a calculus equation.

“Don’t worry. I’ll try my best to steer clear of any embarrassing stories,” you reassure him, hoping to put his mind at ease. “And let her know that calling you a ‘soft shitty bitch’ in front of me is not your favorite.”

He laughs dryly, still trying his best to wrap his head around the fact that you and his sister are hanging out. It’s not that it’s a wildly radical concept for him to stomach, but between your relationship and the restaurant, you and Natalie had only spent a handful of times solo over the last two years (which was precisely the point she’d made when she called you the other day). You’d told her that you had a night off and appreciated the invitation for some quality time.

“We’re kicking out Pete too. Maybe… you could give him a call,” you suggest, cautiously. You’re not even sure why you suggest it, considering the look he sends you that says, ‘not likely but nice try.’

“Or not,” you conclude, taking the option off the table as soon as you see the look on Carmy’s face. “You stickin’ around here tonight?”

“Just till Syd gets in,” Carmy replies. And considering how fried his brain feels, he could really use the night off.

“Okay, well I’m gonna head home and feed Aioli before I head over to Sugar’s,” you tell him, in reference to the cat you both rescued just shortly after you moved in together. “See ya at home?”

“Sure,” Carmy replies, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle, goodbye kiss.

He’s not sure whether he feels relieved that he doesn’t have to go to dinner with you, or nervous about the fact that you and Sugar are hanging out without him. What did you have in common with his sister? What the hell were you going to talk about and why did he care?

Sydney comes in a little later and she and Carmy catch up about her time off, things at the restaurant, the progress of their recently hired new line cooks. Before he knows it, she’s practically kicking him out of their restaurant, insisting that he get a head start on his night off.

Carmy’s not sure whether it's the progressively chillier air, or the fact that the days are getting shorter that’s got him in his head. While he entertains the thought of going home, opening a window before he lights a few up, and crashing on the couch early, he’s not sure he’s ready to go home yet. With his plaid coat to keep him warm, Carmy enjoys a leisurely walk to a meeting instead.

He doesn’t feel he needs them as much as he used to, but Carmy still likes to go at least once a week. You’ve joined him a few times and while he appreciates the support, he likes that it feels like a place that’s just his. That’s just for him. It’s almost been three years since Mikey died and while the pain isn’t as sharp, it continues to shapeshift. He likes having the outlet – whether he wants to stand up and talk about it or not. It’s a place he doesn’t have to be anyone – not chef, not a business owner, not a partner – but just some fucked up kid with a dead brother and anxiety.

Across town, you sit at the Berzatto kitchen table, flipping through old photo albums as Natalie finishes assembling dinner. You’re not sure how you got on the topic, but she’s telling you about her soulcycle class and running a successful campaign of trying to get you to come with her.

“There’s one near River North and everything,” she says, glowing with her own excitement.

“No, yeah, we should definitely go sometime,” you reply, as she’s just taken out the casserole dish of eggplant parm out of the oven

“I know your work schedule is sporadic. Why don’t I send you the schedule and you can just let me know which one you’d like to go to?” Natalie suggests, hopefully.

You agree, half to placate her and half because you’re genuinely curious about this ‘spin class’ that she can’t stop raving about.

“Oh my god. Look at you guys!” you guys, pausing the minute you see a photo of all the Berzatto children.

Mikey must have been a teenager in this one. He’s got a young, and exceptionally blonde, Carmy hoisted up over his shoulders, while Natalie glaring into the camera lens, a popsicle in her hands.

“Oh my god… I haven’t seen this one in forever,” she says, glancing over at the photo album page you’ve held up to show her.

“There was a heatwave,” she begins to recall fondly. “And Uncle Jimmy had set up a sprinkler in the yard for us so that we could play in some water. Mom always hated community pools and refused to let us join one.”

“Carmy is so blonde. And the bowl cut?” you laugh, running your fingertips over the photo.

Natalie nods in agreement, “Yeah not the best look for him when the curls came in. He and I were both very blonde when we were younger… but Mikey… he always had that tall dark and handsome look from the get go.

You take a beat, listening to her talk about Mikey. You turn the page of the photo book, your eyes scanning over a few new photographs. There’s one of Mikey in a tux that’s so 90’s it’s painful. He stands with a stunning redhead, her corsage matching his tie. There’s a younger Carmy in the background of the photo as well and suddenly, there’s a bittersweet feeling in your belly.

“I wish I could've met him,” you finally say out loud. “Mikey,”

“Yeah,” Sugar says sadly. She rests her back against the kitchen counter, her glass of wine still in her hands.

“He would’ve really liked you,” she offers up, sympathetically. “Actually, he probably would’ve hit on you just to push Carmy’s buttons a little.”

“Oh really?” you ask, a light chuckle escaping your lips.

“Carmy didn’t date a lot. I mean… he hasn’t dated a lot… really till you. And Mikey on the other hand never had any trouble in that department, which I think only made him more eager to be Carmy’s wingman. Even when his methods were… questionable,” she replies, remembering her complicated older brother.

“Is this your mom?” you ask, pointing to the middle-aged woman in the photo.

“Yeah,” Sugar nods. “I know. She looks so different.”

You’re quiet for a moment. You’d only met the Berzatto matriarch once in the last two years you’d been living in Chicago, and it had gone less than swimmingly. Natalie and Pete had invited everyone over for dinner, and it hadn’t taken long for Carmy and his mother to get into it, leading to an early exit for you and him.

“Carmy never really talks about her…” you trail off, shooting Natalie a look.

“He-,” she starts, not sure how she wants to explain it. On one hand, while she can understand why Carmy keeps his distance, she resents him for not trying. “He had the least time with Dad… and then Mom, in her right mind. I’ve been thinking a lot about that actually… now that Pete and I are trying to get pregnant.”

You understand. But it’s tough to hear the sadness in Natalie’s voice as well, especially since she’s worked so hard to accept the relationship she'll never have with her own mother.

“Anyways, uh… I think the eggplant parm is ready,” Natalie says, changing the subject. She nods you over to the kitchen counter, prompting you to close the photo book, and follow her into the kitchen.

By the time his meeting ends, the sun has almost set. Carmy makes his way out of the church, pausing at the bottom of the steps to pull out his phone. He’s not sure why, but he’s still not ready to go home just yet. The restaurant’s really taken off, which means he and Syd have been able to hire more line cooks, and he’s not needed every single day, day in and day out. While it’s great that they’ve grown so much, Carmy finds it a harder adjustment than he expected. He’s always had a complicated relationship with rest – with sitting still.

After furiously entering in his passcode, he types up a quick text to Richie.

Carmy: Yo. I got the night off. Up for a drink?

He sees the three dots at the bottom of his message with Richie and anticipates his reply. In a matter of seconds, a reply pops up on his screen.

Richie: No can do, cuz. I got Ava tonight.

Carmy knows that Richie’s fought hard to get more time with Ava. He’s been spending more time with her during the weekdays too, now that the staff that made up The Bear wasn’t made up of five people anymore. Everyone seemed to be experiencing shifts these days.

Carmy: Another time.

Carmy moves his thumbs over a few different screens, opening up a previous message that Syd’s sent him.

Carmy: How’s everything going?

Sydney: All good, chef. Enjoy your night off.

It’s a strange feeling – not being needed every single shift at the restaurant. He knew it meant that they’d made huge progress – had come so far from where they started – but Carmy was still adjusting to this new rhythm of… not shitty and maybe sort of a legit spot. They had, after all, taken home the James Beard “Best New Restaurant” award last year.

Carmy thinks about it for a moment. He could go back in, see if they needed help around the kitchen, but he knows he’d just be in the fucking way. He huffs out a stubborn puff of air as your words echo in his head:

We’re kicking Pete out too. Maybe… you could give him a call.

He shakes in his head in disbelief, not sure what possesses him as he thinks to himself, what the hell?

His fingers hover over Pete’s name in his contact list, before he finally just bites the bullet and clicks on the contact. He’s really started to warm up to Pete over the years, but it’s not like they’re hanging out or grabbing drinks by themselves or anything. It’s mostly family gatherings, little text message exchanges here and there, hanging out at the restaurant.

Carmy waits as the phone rings: once, twice, three times. It’s on the fourth ring that Pete finally picks up.

“Hey, Carm. What’s going on?” Pete greets. It’s so chipper that Carmy has to fight his impulse to throw his phone in front of a moving car.

“Yo! Uh… you want to grab a drink?” Carmy asks, cutting right to the chase.

Pete, completely caught off guard by his brother-in-law’s ask, rushes to answer.

“Oh yeah! Definitely. I’m just uh-, leaving the Y downtown. Shootin’ some hoops. With the boys,” he replies, trying a little too hard to sound cool. Carmy’s not sure if he’s oversharing out of surprise, or if Pete is really just this much of a nerd.

“Where you at?”

“Uh… River North. All-Family meeting,” Carmy answers.

“Cool cool cool,” Pete nods. “Why don’t uh-, why don’t I come meet you up there?”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll uh-, see you soon.”

They discuss details and Pete’s eager to throw out a place that Carmy will think is cool. Carmy’s not sure what he’s in for, or why he called in the first place, but he’s already set the ball in motion.

Before taking off, he shoots you a quick text message:

Meeting up with Pete. How’s it going?

You’re mid-bite as you receive Carmy’s text message, almost spitting out your food as you read what he’s sent you.

“Holy shit.”

“What?” Sugar asks, concerned.

“Carmy called Pete,” you say, still in shock. The two of you exchanged glances. “They’re gonna grab a drink. I mean, I kind of suggested earlier thinking there was no way in hell but-.”

Sugar rolls her eyes, “Well great. Looks like Hell’s frozen over. I won’t be surprised if the two of them bring on the end of the world.”

You laugh in response because it’s funny, and because you know that she’s deflecting – trying not to get her hopes that this could be a good thing.

It’s not till you finish eating dinner that it hits you that Carmy really took your advice and is probably with Pete right now. You send over a quick text, because you can’t help yourself from checking in.

You: How’s it going? You haven’t punched Pete in the face yet, I hope.

Carmy: All good.

You roll your eyes at his short reply, before your phone powers off.

“Shit, my phone’s dead. Mind if I charge it?” you ask.

“Of course,” Natalie replies. “Here, I’ll go plug it in for you.”

“Thanks,” you say back, handing her your phone.

She gets up out of her seat, making her way back to the kitchen where there’s a charger. You hear her slide something over, and the sound of plates being put into the sink before she says,

“Fucking-, Jesus Christ. What a fucking loser!”

“What?” you call to her, not sure what she’s talking about.

Natalie returns to you, a small pack in her hands and a look on her face like she can’t wait to tell you a secret.

“Pete’s been really stressed out at work,” she begins, on the verge of laughter. “So I told him to pick up a thing of CBD gummies.”

“Okay….”

“Only he’s a fucking idiot and…” she continues, before handing you the package that she’s had in her hands. “... clearly doesn’t understand the difference between CBD and THC.”

You examine the packaging and, in Pete’s defense, the letters that read THC are small. You laugh, turning the package over in your hands.

Weed gummies. Pete accidentally bought weed gummies.

“I gave him specific instructions on what to look for and where to-,” she says with an eye roll. As annoyed as she is with Pete, she also finds it endearing that he’s this much of a goody-two-shoes.

“I’ll have him go back to the dispensary and exchange them tomorrow.”

You take a beat, not sure if you should say what’s in your head. Weed is legal in Illinois after all and he DID get them from a dispensary. You figure the worst thing she can do is say ‘no’ and think that you’re weird.

“Okay but,” you begin deviously, pausing for dramatic effect. “What if you didn’t?”

“Didn’t…?” she pauses, eyeing you suspiciously.

A smile creeps up on her face as the corners of her lips curl upwards.

You shrug, “I think we deserve to let loose a little.”

Sugar waits, thinking it over. Really, she’s just looking for a reason to say no, and she can’t find one.

“Okay, yeah. Why the fuck not?”

“Do you feel like maybe it’s possible that we could… sink into the couch?” you ask, as the edible has officially hit.

Natalie lets out a loud laugh, “YES! Yes, that’s exactly how I feel right now.”

“Like somehow our bodies will liquify and we’ll be a part of this couch for the rest of eternity.”

You sit side by side, feeling your bodies sink into the couch, relaxing into it. Damn, you haven’t felt this relaxed in a while and you can only imagine Sugar hasn’t either. Between carrying the weight of parenting everyone in the Berzatto family, you’re just glad that you two can blow off some steam together.

“Okay, I want to ask you something,” Natalie says, turning her whole body to you. It feels like she’s turning towards you in slow motion and she definitely knows the edible has hit.

“Hm?” you hum in response, turning just your head towards her.

“It’s a very serious question.”

Only she can’t keep a straight face and the harder she works to be serious, the more the two of you laugh.

“I’m not convinced this is serious,” you point out through a fit of giggles.

“No, it is, I swear! Just-. Hold on.”

When Sugar finally collects herself, she has a very serious look on her face for a moment as she stares you down. Your eyes watch as she grabs your hands in hers, following with eight words you’re not expecting her to ask.

“Are you and Carmen going to get married?”

“Wh-,” you start, unable to finish your sentence before bursting into another fit of laughter. It’s not that the concept is all that funny, but you are high after all. “Wh-, what-? Woah! Where did that come from?”

“No, I’m serious!” she demands, before lowering her voice to a whisper.

“You said that.”

“Okay, well I mean it! Listen, listen, listen.”

You’re listening.

“I mean, what’s the hold up? You moved your whole life here and it’s been two years! You’ve got to at least be talking about it right?”

You shrug casually, “Yeah, I know we’ve been dating for a while but-.”

Surprised by the hesitation she can hear in your voice, Sugar pauses.

“Wait-, do you not think that Carmy’s-?” she begins to ask.

“Oh my god, no!” you cut her off, eager to squash any notion that Carmy isn’t the one for you. “No, that's not it at all.”

“Carmine…” you trail off, tickled by the nickname you’ve heard Richie use on more than one occasion. “... is the love of my life.”

“Aw.”

“Yeah… I guess we just haven’t really talked about… marriage… all that much.”

“Well, why not?” Sugar practically exclaims, startling you with her overenthusiastic rally. “You guys are fucking perfect for each other! You’ve been dating for long enough!”

“We’re just not in a rush, I guess!” you reply, with a shrug.

“That’s such bullshit,” she argues, wondering if she needs to have a few words with her little brother.

“No! No, it’s not, I swear. Let me explain,” you justify, sending her a ‘just hear me out’ kind of look.

You clear your throat, trying your best to be serious, even though you feel you may be melting into the couch at this point. Sugar waits for your explanation, unconvinced that this isn’t all Carmy’s fault.

“Would you think I was cheesy… if I said we’re not-, well at least I’m not in a hurry…” you begin, letting the words fall out of your mouth as you finish your sentence with, “...because I know we have forever?”

“Aw, no it’s-,” Sugar starts, before breaking into another fit of giggles. “Well yeah it’s totally super cheesy but it’s also… really sweet.”

You share a genuine moment of love and appreciation – for each other, for Carmy, for the fact that someone loves her little brother this damn much – before bursting out into laughter again.

“Oh shit,” Sugar hisses, feeling her phone go off. She sits up, reaching for her phone that’s somehow fallen on the floor. The caller ID reads ‘Carmy,’ and she swears again.

“Speak of the devil,” she mutters, answering the phone. You cover your mouth, trying your best to be quiet.

“Hellooo?”

You hear him ask if you’re still with her.

“Uh, yeah, what’s up?” Sugar asks back, doing her best to sound sober.

“Her phone’s off and I got-. Will you just put my girlfriend on, please?” Carmy asks. Sugar simultaneously finds it annoying and also sweet that he sounds worried about you.

“It’s Carmy,” she whispers to you, handing you the phone.

In a sing-song voice she teases you, “Someone is in trouble.”

You take the phone, mouthing back, ‘no i’m not.’

“Hello?” you answer, immediately hearing the worry in his voice.

“Hey, I’ve been trying to call you but your phone’s off. Everything okay?” he asks, concerned.

“Oh shit,” you swear. “Yeah, I’m sorry. My phone died right after you texted me about going to meet up with Pete. It’s been charging on the kitchen counter.”

“Okay,” Carmy sighs, relieved.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, babe. But um yeah, no,” you reassure, your facade quickly slipping. You know you sound less sober by the minute. “Everything is… very cool. Very cool beansssss.”

Natalie laughs at your explanation, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh.

Carmy pauses, noticing something different about the way your voice sounds.

No. It can’t be.

This is the last possible thing that could happen this evening. Tonight was supposed to be about you and his sister bonding and probably talking shit about him.

He can’t believe he’s going to ask you this.

“Are you… are you high right now?” he asks, in pure disbelief as the words leave his mouth.

You and Natalie shoot a ‘busted’ look to each other as you reply, “Um yeah. High on life. And also a gummy.”

Carmy chuckles at your juvenile response, “Okay, well, I’m glad you two are having fun. Promise me you won’t drive home?”

“Mhm,” you hum in response. “I’ll just uber home. To you, Carmy-Bear. The love of my life.”

“Wow, you really are high,” he comments, still trying to wrap his head around it.

Carmy chuckles at his new title. It’s not the first time he’s heard you call him that, but it seems out of place considering. It makes him wonder what kind of trouble you and Sugar have gotten into this evening.

“She’s fine, Carmen. She’s in good hands!” Sugar yells, loud enough so that he can hear it through the phone.

“Will you turn your phone back on though? I was a little worried there when I couldn't get a hold of you.”

“You were worried about me?” you ask, softly, his words affecting you even more now that you’re blasted.

“Awwww he loves you,” Sugar says softly.

“I know it’s pretty fuckin’ great,” you agree with a giggle.

“You’re ready to go? Okay, yeah, we can-,” you can hear Carmy say. He pauses and you can hear him exchange a few words with someone else. “Don’t worry about getting a car back, sweetheart. Pete’s gonna drive me back and uh, I’ll take you home.”

“My hero,” you swoon playfully, eliciting another fit of giggles from Sugar.

“Sweetheart, will you please tell Sugar that I’m coming to get you?” he asks, almost as if he’s talking to a child.

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now!”

You pretend to cover up the speaker of the phone before saying, “Um, so, Buzz Killington on the line here wants me to tell you that I’m not allowed to drive home and he’s gonna come pick me up right now.”

“Oh, you’re no fun, Carmy!” she shouts back to him.

“Babe, will you just put Sugar back on the phone?”

“Fine,” you scowl, handing the phone back to Natalie. “Sugar, my dad would like to talk to you.”

Carmy’s not sure how he has somehow found himself in a situation where he is the only adult in the metaphorical room as he hears your comment, dodging strange looks from Pete.

“Fucking christ, Bear. Relax,” Sugar sighs out, annoyed with her little brother as she takes the phone back. “Sounds like he needs a gummy too.”

“Sugar are you-, are you high too?” he asks, much more surprised to find out that she also seems to have had a gummy.

“Yep. See ya soon, little brother. Byeeeee,” she says, before hanging up on him.

Carmy’s surprised to discover that his sister has just hung up on him. He’s not sure whether he’s annoyed with the two of you, shocked that you’re both high, or humored by it all. At least he can stop worrying about you.

“What’s uh-, what’s goin’ on?” Pete asks, having witnessed that more-than-strange interaction with you, Sugar, and Carmy on the phone.

Carmy lets out an amused chuckle before saying, “They’re high right now.”

It feels like a second and also three years later that Carmy and Pete come home, bursting through the front door. You and Sugar are still on the couch gossiping, barely paying attention to the Bravo TV show she’s put on in the background.

Natalie offers to pack you guys up some leftovers, which Pete assists with, until you’re all standing in the doorway of Nat and Pete’s home.

“So how exactly did this happen again?” Carmy questions, hesitantly. He’s almost too afraid to learn the answer.

“Because my goody-two-shoes of a husband doesn’t know the fucking difference between THC and CBD,” she says, glaring at Pete.

“Ohhhh no wonder they asked me for an ID,” Pete replies, his eyes widening.

“You ready to go?” Carmy asks you, and you nod with a stupid lovesick smile on your face.

You say your goodbyes and Natalie brings you in for one more hug.

“And you’re still going to come with me to my soulcycle class right?” she asks with a very serious look on her face.

“Yes, yes. Absolutely. I will, I promise.”

“Awww okay. Thanks for coming over. I can’t wait for you to be my sister-in-law,” Natalie gushes, as she hugs you goodbye.

“Woahhhh, okay. Uh, let’s get you home,” Carmy interjects, practically dragging you out of the door.

Carmy ushers you to the car, and before you know it, you’re on the way home.

“Do I even want to ask?” Carmy asks, sending an amused look your way.

“No,” you giggle in response, resting your head on your shoulder. You’re sleepy as you cozy up to him. “What’d you and Pete talk about?”

He shrugs. They had kept the conversation pretty surface level. Pete had tried really hard to connect with Carmy over being a self-proclaimed foodie.

“Best way to cook a steak.”

“Laaaaaame,” you reply.

Carmy waits a beat, a soft smile on his face as he looks back over at you.

“Sugar’s a bad influence on you,” he teases playfully, and you groan in response, shaking your head.

“Mmmm did you ever think that I'm a bad influence on her?” you challenge, your tone light.

“Okay, bad influence,” he chuckles. Let’s get you home and into bed because we both have to be up in the morning.”

“Fffffffuck,” you shout, earning an amused laugh from Carmy.

Halfway through the drive home, you fall asleep on his shoulder. Carmy looks over at you once more, a warmth filling his belly as he sees you passed out. He wonders what Sugar meant earlier, by calling you her sister-in-law. There’s no way she could know, right? He’d barely talked about it with you – let alone his sister.

But Natalie’s always been ahead of him – always had the words for his feelings long before ever he had. And he’s been thinking about it: your relationship, marrying you, making it forever, legally. There’s no way she could know, right? That he’d taken a curious gander at engagement rings the other day. That he’d been cutting onions before dinner service and thinking about how he’d propose to you. That when you’d fall asleep before him, he’d lay there, wondering how the hell he got so lucky and how it’s humanly possible that you’re his.

Maybe, he’d just have to start thinking about keeping you, officially.

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #make my heart surrender #jeremy allen white #sugar berzatto #natalie 'sugar' berzatto

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acourtofthought · 21 days

Note

I don't know if I'm being petty, but I like to think that some of Elain's actions toward Azriel are just foreshadowing for Elucien's dynamic. For example, Lucien is very thoughtful about his choices for Elain's gifts, and Elain is invested in the presents she gives to others, including Azriel, even if it's in the form of a prank. This makes me think that receiving gifts will be one of their main love languages.

The scene where Elain called Azriel's scars beautiful could mean that if Lucien still holds any insecurities regarding his scars, it'd be no problem at all for his mate to help him realize how gorgeous he is, inside and out.

And, most of all, the theme of choice would fit so much better in an Elucien romance. I mean, Azriel isn't the one banned from two courts, prohibited to see his mother, exiled in a strange land, the one who has only two humans (who will die in a few decades compared to a fae immortal life) as his only friends, and he's definitely not the one being ignored by his mate and fearful of her rejection. If there's a character who deserves (plot-wise) to be chosen, it's definitely Lucien.

Besides, it would make so much sense with Elain's and Lucien's characters and with the development of their relationship. The fact that Lucien respects her time and space (or his passivity, as some like to call it) allows Elain to make the choice of pursuing the bond when she feels comfortable and secure enough. She'd also have more agency than her sisters in the beginning of their relationships.

But these are just thoughts.

Thank you for your blog and your theories and thoughts. You make me feel hopeful not only for an Elucien's endgame, but also that they really have the chance to get the next book. You have been a light in the end of this three-years-length tunnel.

P.S. I also have a guess that the announcement will be on May 1st. Hope we are right!

Also, the scene where Elain called Az's scars pretty could actually have been Elain calling his siphons pretty because Feyre wasn't sure what she was looking at.

However, I do agree that Elain is going to find Lucien's face devastatingly handsome and the reason for that kind of ties into her mother. Which sounds weird but I'll try to explain.

Her mother made assumptions about her, that she did not dream beyond her pretty dresses and gardens and that she would marry for love and "beauty". So of course, Elain tried to follow those expectations, getting engaged to exactly who her mother would have imagined for her.

I know Elain loved Graysen and probably found him handsome but he seems cookie cutter. Even Feyre said, he was sort of the human ideal of a lord come to sweep a maiden off her feet.

Lucien's face isn't perfect. He's handsome no doubt but he has long hair (no proper mother would approve of that), a scar running down his face and his eye. He is not the image of a baby faced Lord set to inherit his fathers estate someday. He's cruelly beautiful and looks dangerous and, we're all human here, that's going to thrill the "good girls" which everyone assumes Elain to be. Graysen is the kind of guy you have missionary sex with while the lights are out. Lucien is the kind of guy you are willing to do anything, anywhere with and that's probably a bit overwhelming for Elain given her upbringing. Right now, she's still stuck in the past, how she was raised, the kind of guy her mother proclaimed she would marry rather than embracing what lights her up like a pinball machine but I have no doubt once she does break free she's going to make sure he knows exactly how appealing she finds him because of the scars, the hair, the eye. Because of how it all comes together.

And I agree regarding the gifts! I think we see bits of Elain's personality around members of the IC but she never fully blooms, it's like a quick flash then it's gone. I could see Elain and Lucien teasing one another on regular days, silly gifts, sweet little gifts, but the important days I think will be when they reserve the really thoughtful, heartfelt gifts for.

With choice, I wonder if it's so much about that as fight.

(that sounds weird too but I wasn't sure how to word it).

What I mean by that is Lucien was chosen by Jesminda. He was chosen by Tamlin. He was chosen by many friends of which we're told he has many. He was chosen by the LoA as her favorite son. The problem is nobody fought to keep him.

The same with Elain. She was chosen by Graysen, she was "chosen" by Azriel, she was chosen by the chef and servants who wanted to do nice things for her, she was chosen by her many friends. But, none of them fought for her either. When things got hard they walked away.

Lucien and Elain are parallel in that they're just accepting life as it happens to them, trying to accept that when one door closes (to their dismay) and another opens, they roll with it even if they're not happy. They haven't learned to fight for themselves, possibly because they are used to not being fought for and as a result they try not to ask for much because they realize how expendable they are to others.

But in their book, I think they'll push past that to fight for what they do want and they will fight for one another. Lucien has been doing that so far when it comes to Elain. He is the one person who despite the odds did not walk away from her. Graysen gave up after Elain was turned. Az gave up easily, moved right onto feeling calm because of another female, admiring another female, thinking of another females eyes light up, even though Elain was probably upset after his rejection for the simple fact that any rejection hurts. But Lucien though he hasn't pushed her, has quietly fought for her for two years, by showing that he is still loyal to her and only her. And I imagine we'll also see Elain begin to fight for Lucien. Fighting against those who have wronged him, fighting for him to understand that he's not guilty for Jesminda's death or what happened to Feyre, etc.

Your last paragraph before the P.S. (May 1, May 1!!!) was so incredibly sweet and I wish I had better words to thank you for it.

I hope you have a fantastic day and I appreciate your message!

#elain archeron #elucien #lucien vanserra #pro elucien #pro elain archeron #pro lucien vanserra #elucien supremacy #elain x lucien #elucien headcanon #character deep dive

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imsobadatnicknames2 · 1 month

Text

While I've repeatedly made the argument in the past that "D&D 5e is mostly a combat-centric action-adventure game, literally the vast majority of its pagecount is dedicated to combat mechanics", after giving it much thought I think that argument is pretty flawed.

Now, I STILL think modern D&D is a very combat centric game (and I still think that makes it pretty silly when certain people will decide to run their combat-light political intrigue campaign in 5e and then gush about how the sessions where they have the most fun are the ones where they engage the least with the game mechanics and "barely touch the dice") but I think that arguing that on the basis of "most of its mechanics are tied to combat" is incompatible with my views on what TTRPG rules and mechanics ARE in the fist place.

I've talked about in the past about how I fundamentally view mechanics as decision tools that the referee/GM (or the group, in the case of GMless games) defers the responsibility of deciding the outcome of certain situations to, so that they don't have the pressure of having to manually arbitrate the outcome every time (and so that they can be confident that the outcome is not affected by the GM's biases)

And the thing is, under this view of mechanics, the bulk of a game's mechanical detail doesn't necessarily correspond (or need to correspond) with the actions that players will be engaging in the most often.

So I think modern D&D is primarily a combat game but I don't think this is the case because having most of its mechanical detail centered around combat inherently makes it a combat game, I think it is because the way the mechanics interact with each other makes combat a very optimal way to solve problems.

#navel gazing #i will elaborate more in a bit lol #ttrpg

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aurae-rori · 29 days

Text

AVENTURINE TRAILER ANALYSIS - THE GOLDEN TOUCH

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT & AVENTURINE’S TRAILER!

TW FOR VERY VAGUE SUICIDE MENTIONS.

Hey girlies, hold still. On another note, hello again! I will be going through visual analysis, symbolism, and talking about how this trailer ties multiple aspects of Aventurine’s character together. Some of the things covered here I will be covering in my full analysis of Aventurine himself, so feel free to give that a shot.

My disclaimer! Although I have been researching psychology personally for about six years, I am NOT a professional. (Yet. When I do, Tumblr Will Know.) Any conclusions I come to are because of my own deductions, personal interpretations, analysis, and logic. You are free to disagree with what I say!

I also do NOT know card numbers and symbols – what they mean and symbolize and all that jazz. Sorry guys. :(

Now, let’s get into it.

First of all, let’s fucking go, let this man ENJOY himself (well. A little. This trailer is not as happy silly as it seems, just like the character himself.) He gets to have a silly boogie woogie! Look at you go!! (He is not boogie woogie-ing.)

Second of all, time for game theories.

The first scene is really pretty. It’s a coin falling down, toppling against a few stray objects before we flash to the next panel, the ground, as it rolls to the feet of a young boy. Gently, he reaches down, before picking it up, and then, in true Aventurine fashion, proceeds to flip the coin in his hand. However, this gesture actually holds more meaning than I originally thought it did. The coin that Aventurine has seems to transcend his definition of ‘time’ – his inherent ‘value’, or his ‘roots’, never changing. It also shows his connection to his younger self – how he’s still holding onto that child, still connecting to that child, and showing that this child is still a part of him, even if it’s only his past self.

I believe that the coin that he always has flipping around actually represents Aventurine himself – it represents his ‘value’ as a gambling chip. In Aventurine’s eyes, interpersonal relationships are just like that – they are gambles, where people take advantage of one another and backstab each other. However, it also represents how little he seems to care for his own life – he tosses the coin around, does tricks with it, and is overly flamboyant – just like how he presents himself to the outside world. This single gambling chip is actually the presentation of how Aventurine sees himself and presents himself to everyone else, as well as encompasses his worldview – bet himself, going ‘all in’ with his own worth, or doing nothing. That worth has been with him his entire life – the worth of being a child blessed by a God from his home, being blessed with good fortune.

Also, sick ass transition. Love that shit.

Pay attention to the next scene – there’s a brief moment where it shows him walking through a hallway… through the lens of a camera. This could definitely be alluding to the idea of always being watched – I mean, he’s the last of his own race, of course there’s going to be eyes on him. People are going to be asking questions - how is he still alive? Why is he with the IPC? Can he be trusted, considering his race was known for scheming and plotting?

And then, he tosses open the door in a grand display – a grand display of his fake persona. He opens the room to a whole bunch of robots, who are all gambling, and they stare at him in surprise. That’s Aventurine – flamboyant, showy, confident. He holds a captive audience and all of the others move to the side as he strides towards the slots machine – and as predicted, due to his good luck, he gets three in a row. However, what I think is important to note is that he slides his coin into the machine – and remember what I said about the coin representing his worth? This is what I mean by he bets himself. He is just another gambling chip that he will use to achieve victory no matter what. He is another pawn on the table who has made his way this far, and it’s all or nothing – his whole worth, or not worth the gamble at all.

Also, at 0:42, we see a briefcase open up to reveal a gem – definitely a callback to the 2.1 trailblaze quest with his moment with Ratio. Damn, gay people.

Then, after that, he slides many chips towards the table – and interestingly enough, they’re all copies of his one singular chip. This, your honour, is what we call a ‘bluff’. Pretending to be more than you are in order to appear more confident so that your enemies will fear you. Pretty good strategy, honestly.

Also, cool editing with the machines falling into the Void of Cards. Maybe symbolism for how people fall into his persona easily and fall for his schemes?

Epic ahh pose, 0:54. Love that for you, my silly homosexual lad.

Also, him in the elevator going to the top at around 1:02? That means more than you think it does. Probably most likely a representation of how he had to crawl his way from the bottom to the top, and yet, now, it’s showing that he is at the top now. He takes an elevator instead of having to climb – he’s gotten higher, he’s gotten more status. His ‘all or nothing’ mentality pays off.

And then, he’s set into an arena. Representation of life, honestly. His whole life is a stage, a play, something to be watched. He’s here to put on a good show. He’s being watched, which is a callback to my note about the camera at the start.

Then, the horrors are set loose. He does his gambling stuff with the cup in his hand while he dodges the monsters. That’s him, alright – taking gambles in dangerous situations, relying on his luck, smiling through what should be terrifying.

“The wager will be life and death,” but oh, that’s your usual wager, Aventurine. We all know how you have self-destructive tendencies.

1:42. Hand behind his back. Oh lord, we all died. We all know what the hand behind his back means. We all know how much emotional damage that caused.

1:46. The dice cracks. Just like his cornerstone, eh? Just like his façade, right…? :)

And then, everything is drowned in gold coins. Yay!

And then, he’s standing on a ledge. Possibly a callback to how he said that he had “tested death” in the dreamscape. What better way to test it than jumping?

And then his enemies are drowning in coins. Probably a metaphor for his win against them.

And then, here is where things get interesting at the two minute mark. He tosses his coin down, again, like at the beginning of the trailer. Kakvasha flipped the coin up, trying to get higher, and then, Aventurine tosses the coin down, keeping his connection with his younger self. It falls down to the ground, and Kakavasha picks it up with awe in his eyes. He’s still keeping in mind his younger self, still keeping him with him, even to this day. Holding onto his past like a lifeline.

Aventurine’s trailer… while it does seem on the surface that you’re having fun, you’re really not, when everything is a show and a gamble, right?

Alright, thanks for reading, everyone! :)

#aventurine #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail aventurine #analysis #media analysis #character analysis #let me cook #aurae analyzes

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xkaidaxxxx · 14 days

Text

Murderer's in love

Dabi x reader

Mentions: Aggressiveness, Murder, l.o.v, Emos, Sex, Virgin Reader, squirting(simple), Fucked Dumb, Fluff ending.

“ y/n you will always be an orphan! You will never have parents who care about you! You will never experience a parent's love!” Momo yelled at you. The party was going very well, laughter, food, drinks, games, etc. Bakugou was playing Just Dance way too seriously with Mina and Jiro, Denki stuffing his mouth with food. Uraraka recorded everyone doing silly things.

You looked at Momo, “ W-What?” you said. “ Woah calm down.” Kirishima said. Izuku was thinking of a way to clear the tension. “ What’s gotten into you, Momo?” Tsuyu asked. You started crying. “ It’s the truth.” she replied and turned away. You weren’t about to let her get away with what she said and so you gripped her hair then made her fall to her knees. “ What are you going to do? Hurt me? I don’t think our friends would be happy about that.” she said. The smirk on her face made you even angrier. You dragged her outside. They followed. You had multiple quirks. This time you’re using them for evil.

All your life you were treated badly and being a hero you promised to help civilians have a peace of mind. With the money you make from being a Pro- Hero you're planning to open an orphanage and make sure children will be safe and being cared for.

You made Momo levitate in the air. “ Y/n whatever you’re going to do. Don’t do it!” Izuku yelled. Momo isn't the only one who can create things. You tied a noose around her neck. Everyone was too shocked to even move. They couldn’t believe their beloved friend was doing such evil. You tied the other end on a tree. You were crying. Crying in pain. You’ve had enough. Everyone ran to Momo except Katsuki who held you down to the ground. You struggled to move. You’ve had it. Enough is enough. “Hurry up Idiots!!!!!” Bakugou yelled. You started burning his arms. No matter how much they tried to untie the knot and bring her down they struggled like crazy. It wouldn’t undo. They’d have to beat you unconscious if they want to save her. Denki zapped directly at you. You yelled in pain. “ Sorry..but you’ve crossed the line.” Denki said. You snapped your fingers and she was let loose. You made sure she couldn’t save herself. You laughed with tears running down your face. Bakugou let you go. “ We will give you a 10 second head start,” he said. Ida ran to the station and informed what happened. Within seconds other heroes showed up and at a distance sirens were heard. You caused a very huge explosion causing the fire and with that cover up you left. You knew exactly where to go. Your old hideouts as a child. Very hidden.

You’re officially a murder. A villain. You manage to live. Stealing was easy. Food, electricity, even water. A distant hidden location. It looked like no one lived there when you first moved in. After a month and a half. Someone kicked open the room's door. “ We like the update. Get out. You’re in our turf.” a man with a touch of gray and blue hair said. He had hands over his body. He looked in his late 20’s ? You yawned getting up off the couch remembering him. “League of Villains…Shi-Shigaraki.” you spoke. You’re a little scared and nervous. “ I’ll kill you,” he said. “ Go ahead. I’m fine with it. I’ve lived enough in this shit world.” you responded. He hesitated. Every Villain has a hard past. “ Who would’ve thought a little mouse like you would end up here. A pro hero.?” Dabi asked. He gave you a teasing look. You know they want from you. Intel. “ You will tell us everything you know.” Shigaraki said forcing you to sit down. Toga stared at you and licked her lips. “ You think you can get to me just because I murdered a hero?” you said crossing your legs. “Well now we know the reason you disappeared!” Toga said, giggling afterwards. Dabi was eye fucking you. “Quit eye fucking me. You’re old.” you said. “I’m still in my 20’s babe.” he replied sitting next to you. “If you give us some answers…we’ll reward you.” Toga said. “ I don’t need money so good luck.” You replied. “ I’ll kill your family.” shigaraki said. “ You can forget about that one too.” You replied. They felt bad for you. No friends, No family. Nothing. They also had no family but at least they have each other.

A month went on by and they basically lived with you. You wiped your tears and then shook Dabi awake“ I can’t sleep…had a nightmare. Can..I sleep with you. Only for tonight?” You asked. “ Okay.” He replied. You immediately got into bed. You kept your distance. Dabi is a hugger and so in the middle of the night he pulled you to him. You both felt comfortable. You slept so well that night. Like a baby.

You woke up in his arms. Clinged onto him. “ You’re finally awake. Can you let go now. I woke up 2 hours ago. I tried to get you off but you’re very clingy and strong.” he said as you let go. “ Drink tea for nightmares…chamomile and Lavender helps.” He said. You started getting ready for the day. Once you were done, you walked downstairs seeing your fella villains. “ Why did you kill a classmate?” Toga asked. “ You ask me that every morning it's annoying.” you replied. “ Leave her alone Toga. After all it’s her Birthday..” Shigaraki ordered. You looked over. “How the hell do you know?” you asked, upset. “ Ua students can’t just roam around freely. I’m sure you still have information.” he said. “ I don’t have any information. You can interrogate me all you want and threaten to kill me but I have nothing.” you replied drinking water. “ Lets celebrate! You’re one of us now. We always celebrate each other's birthdays. I know it must be shocking for you.” Toga said smiling. Twice handed you a full bottle of Whiskey. You sighed and said, “Fuck it. Why not?” Shigaraki smirked. “ There’s more where that came from.” Twice said. “Happy 18th Birthday to me.” You said chugging the alcohol given to you. It’s your first time drinking. Tears slipped from your eyes. They all knew how you felt so they didn’t stop you. You eventually stopped and burped. “ Like it?” Dabi asked. You nodded. “ Strong but enjoyable.” “Toga go do your job for her special day.” Shigaraki ordered. “ My classmate always bullied me..I kept pushing forward…My class planned a party to relax… she just bursted on me. She said that I'll always be an orphan. That I will never have parents that care for me and their love. That was my last straw. I have multiple quirks and I can create more..I used them to hang her.” you said aloud. “ Your 1st murder always hurts you but eventually you’ll know that killing people is for a good reason sometimes.” Shigaraki said. Villains are emos for sure but they hide. Your birthday was surprisingly fun. They really care in their own way.

Months passed and you were getting close to dabi. Too close. You’re 18 legal of course but he’s 5 years older. You didn’t care because you were underneath him.

“ You sure you want this y/n?” he asked. You nodded. “Words little flame.” he said. “ Yes Dabi please. I’m ready.” you replied. He slowly slid his cock into you. You whimpered in pain gripping his arms. “ It’s okay. It will go away. Relax, please you’re going to break me.” he said, allowing you to adjust to him. He pecked your forehead. He started thrusting. Groaning in pleasure from how tight you were. He loved the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him right back in. He started fucking you hard. “ D-Dabi!” you yelled out as you felt immense pleasure. “It’s daddy now. Got that my baby girl.” he responded. He knew you wouldn’t last long. That won’t stop him from finishing. “Come on baby girl. Say it.” he ordered slapping your cheek softly. Your eyes rolled back with your back arched as you said, “Daadddyyy please.” He smirks, giving you what you desire. He was rough and fast. You gripped his arms and eventually left scratches all over his back. “S’close. Daddy.” you said legs spasming. “ Cum f’daddy baby. Make a mess.” he ordered. You came and squirted. A few more times as he kepted going. That only made Dabi chuckle and grow harder. Your juices were all over him and on the bed. After he played with you for awhile you were fucked dumb. He finished cumming.

He was planning to make you his since the moment he saw you. As he pulled out he noticed you were responding. He shook you softly. “ Passed out. I should’ve held back.” he said. You both developed feelings for each other. You guys wouldn’t have had sex. He knew you were a virgin and you wanted to lose it to someone you trust and like. He made you take a bath. You were too tired to even wake up. He also bathed.

The following day you woke up to him dressed in his usual clothes.. You sat up in bed feeling pain. “ Rest.” he ordered. You didn’t listen and got out of bed falling on the ground. You felt pain on your back and legs. “ What did I tell you Y/n. You need it. I’ll be taking care of you. You’re mine now. My girl.” he said, setting you back on the bed. “ I’m all yours and You’re mine.” You said smiling. “ Yes I’m yours y/n. You passed out on me last night. You didn’t even know we bathed together. It was a bit of a struggle but it worked out. I’ll make dinner for you. Something quick and yummy.” he said ruffling your hair. You fixed your hair shocked. “D-Dinner? What did you do to me?” you asked. “ I knew you would finish first. You came a few times. I needed to finish too. I overstimulated your body and you passed out by the time I came. You were great. I loved it. I hope you enjoyed your first time.” he replied. You blushed “ Yes I did. I didn’t think it would take a huge toll on me.” you replied. “ Sweetheart, I like it hard, rough, and fast. You’d obviously be tired and weak.” he replied, handing you a pain killer with bottled water. You swallowed the pill with the water. “ Hey..um..I know…I’m not much of an emotional dude in front of people..but with you.. I love you.” Dabi said while facing away from you. “ I love you too, idiot. Look at me please.” you said holding his hand. He faced you and you surprised him with a kiss. He returned it. The make out session started and it was full of passion.

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melanieph321 · 5 months

Text

Ruben Dias x Reader - City Girls Part 3/8

Reader plays for the Man City girls academy. She struggles a bit but gets Ruben to mentor her. The the two don't hit off despite having many things in common. It all gets worse when Reader eventually catches feelings for Ruben.

Enjoy!

Your first training session with Ruben was not what you had signed up for. One week passed without hearing a word from him. You hadn't exchanged numbers or anything, but you expected there to be more effort from his side to seek you up. You obviously couldn't look for him in the main building, but Ruben had all access to find you. Yet, you heard nothing from him, letting a whole week pass.

"Pass the ball Y/N!" Coach shouted. "Pass Sandra the ball!"

But why? You thought. It was another frustrating training session. You ran across the field, the football glued to your feet. Your teammate, Sandra, ran along side you but on the other end. It didn't make any sense. Why pass the ball when you could dribble?

"No, Y/N, don't!"

You managed to get past a front line of players, taking the shot and scoring the goal yourself. Still, coach wasn't happy with your performance.

"If you don't like the way I run my play then pack your bags and go home!" He said.

You stayed back after training, collecting all the balls that had been used during the session. The task at hand took you twice as long as it should have. Some of the balls you were meant to collect you shot aimlessly in frustration. You had a need to get all your anger out and this seemed to be a therapeutic way to do it.

"Merda!" (Shit!)

Your cries echoed across the empty football field. A sense of hopelessness washing over you. You were on the brink from crying when you spotted him.

"Ruben!"

You shouted his name seeing him leave the main building. He looked done for the day, dressed in regular attire, wearing designer sneakers.

"Hey Ruben, wait up!"

He was walking towards the parking lot, a trail of other first team players doing the same. Some of them turned to acknowledge the girl running towards them in a frenzy. They laughed, thinking you were some silly academy kid.

"Ruben please!" You shouted, desperate to catch up with him.

"Hey Dias, I think you have a new fan."

Ruben, who was walking ahead of his teammates, looked up from his phone.

"Finally." You sighed.

He acknowledge you, raising a brow. However his attention was quickly drawn back to his phone, ignoring you this way.

"No!"

He continued towards his car.

"Seu burro gordo!" (You fat donkey!)

There was a ball near your feet. You stepped back, then rushed towards it. The ball launched across the field towards the surrounding fence. It hit the fence with such force, rattling it. Some players flinched, the force of your shot suprising them. However, Ruben hand't noticed. You found another ball, stepped back and took the shot.

"Hey, watch it!"

The ball flew pass the fence, over it, landing on the concrete before bouncing off another players car. The ball almost hit Ruben and this time you had his full attention.

"You promised!" You said, breathless.

His expression was more or less unfazed. Your heart sank seeing him turn his back on you, continuing towards his car.

You gave up.

The ball that flew over the fence would be one less to collect. You returned to the center of the field to the bag containing the balls you had retrieved earlier. You tied a loose knot and threw the bag over your shoulder, just then you got hit in the back of your head, the ball bouncing off somwhere. You turned around. Ruben stood with his arms folded, mocking you with a sly grin. He had exchanged his sneakers for cleats, looking ready to play.

"You said you would help me." You threw the bag off your shoulder, the balls spilling out towards Ruben. "I'm very serious about football Ruben and you promised to help me."

A swift movment from Ruben. You had to jump to the side, avoiding the ball he kicked your way.

"Don't run off now. Let me see you play for it."

You frowned at his words.

Ruben moved again and like last time you jumped out of the way, avoiding his chip aiming for your head. He chuckled. "You said you wanted to play football and now you're running. Why are you running Y/N?"

"I'm not." You squealed.

Ruben got behind another ball but this time you anticipated the shot. You caught it with a knee before it rolled onto the ground.

"Well..."

You let the ball rest under your feet. "Well what?"

Ruben looked to you expectantly. "Go on then, try getting past me."

The goal was right behind him. He wanted you to dribble past him and score. Steam rose above your head as every breath you took turned to smoke in the cold night. You let go of all thought, dribbling required no thought just instict. You ran forward, the ball glued to your feet. Ruben was rough with you, pushing you hard, making you work for it. Frustration. You couldn't find a way to get past him. Not to mention the fact that he was a stack taller than you.

"Come on, Y/N, you can do better than that!" Ruben snatched the ball from your feet, teasing you with it, playing cat and mouse. "Don't be so lazy, put some effort into it!"

You gritted your teeth and tried again, one last attempt to lunge for the ball and dribble past him. However, one second you were on your feet, the next you were falling flat on your face, eating grass.

"Who's the donkey now."

Ruben walked off the field, not bothering to look back. You rose to your knees, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"So you speak Portuguese?" How else did he know that you called him a donkey?

Ruben might have left the field but his car never left the parking lot. He waited for you to collect the rest of the balls, offering to give you a ride home. "Well I'm from Portugal, so..."

"Right."

You sat back in the passenger seat, regretting not having done the research on Ruben. You had done so on almost every first team player in Manchester City. You had to know which ones were ranked the best.

"I'm from Brazil." You said, to which Ruben chuckled. "I know."

"Yeah? What gave me away?"

"Probably your need to dribble and your unhealthy obsession with Neymar."

You gasped. "I don't have an unhealthy..."

"A pro tip." Ruben said, cutting you short. "Don't put other players on pedestals. They might become your biggest rivals some day."

"I doubt my obsession...I mean fascination, with Neymar will be a problem. Although it would be a dream come true to play football with him."

The corner of Ruben's lip twitched.

Silence fell in car. You watched the streetlights go by. It was nice, speaking portuguese again. It had been a while since you didn't have to calculate every sentence that you spoke, although Ester had gotten really good to hear through your accent.

"Is that why coach wanted us to meet?" You turned back to Ruben as the thought hit you. "...because you speak portuguese?"

He kept his eyes on the road, brifley shifting his head to look at you. "He said you were having some trouble settling in."

"I bet he did." You snorted. "Did he also tell you that I have dry skin and frostbites all over my hands. If it wasn't for the weather in this country I'm sure I'd be doing fine."

"It doesn't get better than this." He smiled. "You should adapt to your circumstances and dress accordingly."

"Easy for you to say." You muttered.

Ruben looked to calculate his response, but hesitated. Again, silence fell in the car.

"I take it you miss home?" He said, after sometime. The streetlights disappeared as you got off the highway.

"I miss my family, yes. And the sun."

Ruben nodded understandingly, although you doubted that he knew how you felt. Portugal was only a two hour flight away. Ruben most likely went by private jet, somthing you could never afford.

You gave Ruben the direction to your apartment complex. He parked just below Ester bedroom window. The light from her computer told you that she was probably huddled up in bed, watching a cheesy comedy.

"Thanks for the ride." You said, hopping out of Ruben's car.

"Hey?"

You to look back. Ruben reached towards the backseat, searching for something in his gym bag. "It gets better in time." He said, handing you a pair of Man City gloves and a Man City beanie.

"Um...thanks."

"Te vejo mais tarde, Y/N." (I'll see you later, Y/N)

You stood by, watching his car disapper down the street. The night fell silent. You looked to the gloves in your hand, Ruben's gloves.

"Obrigado." You whispered. (Thank you.)

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

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proxylynn · 11 months

Note

Lynn, what do you know about Tate Frost? I only know that he does not like liars, cats. He loves gambling.

{I'll be using quotation marks when using Mortis and Bile's lore. Seriously, they are amazing people. I can't thank them enough for making weird and messed-up characters that are also loveable. Lore and art provided below is by the wonderful creators mortisfox & bileshroom.}

[This is a bit of a hard one as Tate is in two projects. He was first introduced in Mortisfox's first game Purple and Frost Bite is set before the events of Purple. WARNING/TRIGGER WARNING (certain themes) Massive TATE FROST LORE drop!!]

"Frost Bite is set in 1995 and PURPLE in 1996. In Frost Bite, Tate is a butcher. In Purple, Tate chops wood and works on cars for a living. Tate is 6'1, his b-day is April 28th, he's 33 years old in Frost Bite and 34 in Purple. He's bisexual."

Why does Tate dislike cats? "he's just one of those cis guys who has never been around cats before and thinks they're weak and stupid. if Tate got a cat, he would hate it at first until it slept on his chest then he would take it with him everywhere and kill anyone who touched it. Tate just honestly needs to have a cat for a while. he'd still be a dog guy though."

"Tate LOVES to grill, but he's not like...the best at it. He sure knows how to heat the meat up enough for him to eat it but just barely, the bloodier the better! Tate would probably love someone who could cook for him though, anything to be lazier and still have food in him. But he's not very picky! He's usually a bit buzzed so pretty much anything you feed him he'll think is really good."

"so Tate would probably enjoy a feisty and rougher MC, especially if they're harder to kill cause he really likes the challenge."

Has Tate ever tried to track down or find out who his father was? "Tate's mom had a lot of partners before he was born, so she's not even sure who he is either. One of those random bar hookups ya know growing up, Tate wondered about it for a while but he lost interest. when he got older and has no desire to figure out who it is, at this point he's happier being independent with no familial ties, that way he can move around the country and not worry about connections. he likes to call himself a 'lone wolf' cause he's a dork."

Since Tate likes drinking, what kind of person is he when drunk? "OH lord he's usually really good at not seeming drunk when he is, but if you get him past that he gets REALLY handsy, very touchy, but after about an hour of that he becomes extremely sad and depressed, he has a hard time hiding that part of himself when he's shitfaced, but it does take a LOT to get him there and more than likely hed just pass out before that. He's not a violent or angry drunk at all though, if anything he gets more silly and nice."

Is Tate just, not interested in a real relationship like at all/ever, or is he open to it but it's just never really happened that he actually wants to stick around? "Tates has been very unlucky in love. he tends to get with people who arent really great people (not that he's any better), and he also struggles with feelings of caring or empathy for other people. I think in the EXTREMELY rare off chance he meets someone that's perfect for him that he doesn't just want to kill, the relationship most likely wouldn't last long cause he'd be the one to fuck it up. Tate's current mindset is that relationships are more trouble than they're worth and he'd rather just fuck around with people, but I wouldn't say him getting in a relationship would be impossible."

Who or what was Tate's first kill? "Tate's first murder (he was 18) was an old girlfriend (whom he lived in a trailer with at the time) who he caught cheating on him, they did not have a good relationship- often having screaming matches that lasted hours, so no one thought much of the screaming while he hacked her up with an axe."

"another bit of Tate's baggage He's always at least 25% drunk, but he gets these very depressing episodes and becomes very suicidal, these don't last too long, maybe a few days to a week, but they're very bad for him."

"anyway lore drop Tate has a younger half-brother (on their dad's side) Dean or 'Coyote' as everyone calls him, they'd never actually meet in canon but Tate would hate his guts lol"

Does Tate eat meat raw? Or does he prefer them cooked? Is he messy when he cuts meat up? "Tate loves meat that's been cooked for all of 15 seconds, the bloodier the better!! he also loves to just eat with his hands anytime he can, he doesn't care what other people think of him so he just does that in public."

Is Tate a cannibal? "yep, and there will be a lot of those themes in the game! we'll be putting a content warning when the game is released, but just in case that's not something you're into heres your heads up."

Is Tate good at aftercare? What does he do for it and how would he react to a mc that cries after sex from all of the brain chemicals and such? "Tate, being the man he is, doesn't think of aftercare all that much mainly because he doesn't have sex in a lot of places that allow it- usually in his truck or a closet or backroom of some sort, BUT on the occasion he does end up in his trailer or your place he'd very much be the "no talking I'm holding you" type of aftercare, if you can really call it that lmao. BUT if the mc was a crier after sex, he might be a bit more gentle, more back rubbing and if you're real lucky some forehead kisses that he won't talk about the next morning. (though he does enjoy the sound of pleasured crying so it might just turn him on again)"

Does Tate enjoy warm cuddles all night long or is he more of the 'needs his space' type in bed with only some cuddles? "Tate is very much a 'grabs onto you and doesn't let go until he is awake' type, even worse is he a very naturally hot person so I hope you can stand sweating buckets all night."

What is Tate's ideal type of partner? "Tate is one of those people that gets very easily bored with any one type of person, he's very selfish and doesn't care much about anyone else's feelings. Like there are certain things that draw him to someone: -shorter -shy timid people -people he reads as prey -small soft hands but he doesn't stick around any one place for too long and he has trouble forming real relationships (not that it's impossible, it would just be difficult lmao he is VERY stubborn)"

Why did Tate become Slasher? "this isn't going to be touched on in the game, so ill answer it since it's not a spoiler! Tate doesn't really have any specific trauma or mental illnesses or any real reason to be like he is, he just does what he wants. He sees himself as an animalistic predator that wants to hunt and he gets excited when he kills people. he hunted a lot when he was younger and grew up doing that and it just escalated into adulthood and it went from hunting animals to hunting people because they're smarter and have a high capacity for fear, which he enjoys seeing. he thinks of himself as a wolf. but this isn't to say he's just a wild animal, he's actually very charming and can convince people to trust him easily. The game takes place around 1994-1995 too so it was a little easier for him to get away with things and he moves around a LOT from state to state. I imagine the state that Frost Bite takes place in is the new england area, but he's originally from Louisiana and he's actually in another game that takes place about a year later and he's living in California in it (Purple) -fox"

[Lastly...We now have pics of not just Tate or that one of his mom, but of his dad and half-bro! Also if you think Tate is huge, think again, because his old man is giant!]

(Lore and art provided by the wonderful creators mortisfox & bileshroom.)

#ask op #tate frost #frost bite #purpleverse #slasher vn #yan vn #slasher #lore dump #mortisfox #bileshroom

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kiwixlime · 2 years

Text

Say It Louder

V is for Virgin

It’s a post-apocalyptic world. Relationships are hard to maintain. Of course, it doesn’t help that you’re crushing on your dad’s best friend. But what your dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Age difference, loss of virginity (reader), daddy kink, unprotected p-in-v (it’s the end of the world), oral (f receiving), fluff, teasing, dirty talk bc i can’t resist, joel is gentle but also fucking feral, angst of course, touch of violence at the end lmao. Potential for this to turn into a series. Please do not engage if this topic is uncomfortable for you. In this, reader is 21, but I understand it’s still not everyone’s cup of tea. Do not feel obligated to read!

Nighttime in Jackson is surprisingly lively. You indeed have nothing to compare it to. But from what you’ve experienced in your 21 years on Earth, growing up in this doomsday scenario, nightlife in your town just feels right. It feels normal. At least, what you think normal would be.

There’s a bar where the residents like to hang out after long grueling days. Many of the patrol groups gather after their shifts are over to relax and mingle, comparing gruesome stories or funny instances. Your dad tells you it’s like the old days when he’d get off work and meet his buddies at a place in the city. You have no idea what that’s like, but the fondness in his eyes is enough for you to know it’s a good thing.

So you’ve come to enjoy spending time at the bar with everyone. You like to be social, and put yourself out there to get to know others. Especially the guys. Of course, you’ve built yourself up a reputation by doing this.

You’re a young girl, you’re flirtatious, and for a while, you were a little boy crazy. So people started to talk. Whispers of you being a slut made their way around town. But you knew the truth. You haven’t done anything with any of these boys.

They’re all immature assholes in your eyes. They don’t deserve you. And on top of that, your heart yearns for someone else. A man.

Granted, he’s your father’s best friend. So he’s totally off-limits. But that doesn’t stop you from admiring him. Or thinking about him in ways your father would not approve of. It doesn’t even stop you from flirting with him from time to time.

But honestly, how could anyone ignore a guy like Joel Miller? He is literally the most attractive man you’ve ever met. And it’s not just his looks, even though his eyes are dreamy and his physique is downright sinful. His maturity is part of what makes him sexy. He’s above and beyond any of the guys you’ve dated in the past.

And yeah, you fell hard. You feel lucky that you get to spend so much time with Joel, even if it’s because of your father. You’ve gotten to know the older man somewhat well, and you have a pretty decent relationship with him. He’s not blind to your flirting, indulging you sometimes, and writing it off as a silly little crush. But deep down you think he knows he’s fueling this fire. You think he likes the attention you provide.

You’ve never seen Joel with another woman. You were always curious to know why, but a quick discussion with Ellie once told you that he’d never been interested in anyone. You find that hard to believe, but you don’t question it. If no one’s caught his eye before, maybe you can be the first. It’d be an honor.

You think you have a bit of a head start already. Sure, you’re young and naive. But you know when a guy is into you. Most of them don’t hide it very well. And you’ve noticed Joel’s eyes lingering on you on more than one occasion. You just have to crack him. It can’t be that hard.

Currently, you’re strolling down the streets of Jackson, heading to the bar where you know your dad is probably hanging out with Joel for the night. You’re wearing one of your cutest outfits, a light lavender sundress that ties at your shoulders, hugs your waist, and flows out at the bottom reaching mid-thigh. You feel beautiful in this dress. Just something about it lifts your spirits.

So of course you’d wear it to encounter the man of your dreams.

When you enter the building, you spot your father immediately. He’s sitting at one of the tables with Joel and Tommy, speaking animatedly while they listen and laugh along. Your focus stays on Joel, smiling a little as he smiles. Wow. You could stare at him forever.

To your delight, Joel’s the first one to notice you, jaw dropping a little as his eyes rake over your body. He bites his tongue when you catch him staring, a sly grin spreading over your perfect lips. You’re too cute for your own good and you know it, which makes it even worse. Joel shakes his head and looks back at your father, nodding in your direction.

Your father turns in his chair and smiles brightly at you. He waves you over with his hand. “Pumpkin!” He exclaims, calling you out by his favorite nickname for you.

You cross to their table with a little bounce in your step and notice as Joel shifts uncomfortably in his seat. You smirk, knowing his discomfort is a direct result of the way your body fills out the dress, maybe jiggling a little in all the right places. Good, you have his attention.

Stopping when you reach them, you lean over to wrap your arms around your father’s neck. You give him a quick hug, pecking him on the cheek. “Hi, daddy,” you say happily as you stare Joel down.

Your poor father, unaware of what his sweet daughter is thinking, grins at your greeting. “Hey, sweetie, what are you doing here?”

You shrug, pulling away from and drawing your gaze away from Joel to look at your dad. “I was wondering when you planned on heading home? I’m going to Violet's for a little while and I didn’t want you to worry.”

He looks at you, feeling proud, grabbing your hand before turning to the guys. “Such a good kid, isn’t she?” He asks, his words genuine. You smile shyly at the two men, tongue slipping between your lips as you look at Joel.

It’s like he knows exactly what you want with the way he stares at your lips. Your filthy thoughts are practically leaking from your pretty little head as you hover around them. You want Joel to agree with your father. Yes, you want him to say. You are such a good girl. The fantasy makes your body run warm and you have to look away before they see you blush.

“I’ll be home in a little bit,” your father says. “Don’t worry about me. Have fun with Violet. And behave!” He adds, knowing you have a tendency to get the poor girl in trouble. What can you say? You’re a bad influence.

You nod your head politely, giving him a sweet smile. He accepts the gesture and turns, but you let your gaze linger, eyes lighting up when you and Joel catch a glance at one another. His jaw is tense as you wink, swiveling on your heels so your little dress twirls, riding up the tiniest bit so he can see a flash of your white cotton panties. You don’t look back as you prance out of the bar, knowing in your heart that Joel Miller has to sit the rest of the time he’s with your father hiding a boner.

Your mood only brightens when you get to Violet’s. She knows about your obsession with Joel, and honestly, it scares her. She’s more sheltered than you, and she definitely worries more. Every time you talk lustfully about the older man her anxious brain spins into a tizzy.

You’re surprised she’s even friends with you. God knows her life would be so much easier, and way less stressful if you weren’t in it. On the other hand, it’d probably be, like, super boring as well.

On her bed, you talk about what life would be like outside of Jackson while she reads the same book she’s read twelve times already. It’s funny how she’s come to be your best friend. The two of you are complete opposites, but that’s why you work together so well.

She flips through the pages but listens to you as you talk about getting away from here, heading for the beach or someplace tropical. Every once in a while she’ll chime in on how dangerous it could be starting somewhere new, but you think you could take on that challenge.

“What about you?” You ask her, rolling to the other side of the bed, meeting her where she sits on the floor. “If you could leave Jackson, would you?”

She places her bookmark to save her page and sets her book down. She looks off in thought before turning her attention to you. “I’m not sure,” she says quietly. “We’re safe here. I know it gets boring, but I like it. I like my home and I like the weather.”

You nod, understanding her reasonings. But you crave excitement. You crave adventure. If you could get with Joel…

“I think I’m gonna do it,” you say, shifting so you’re on your back. You stare up at her ceiling, sighing dreamily.

“Oh, no,” she groans. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m gonna tell Joel how I feel,” you state with finality. “Yeah, I’m just gonna tell him that I like him. That I want him. And see what happens.”

“That is such a bad idea,” she cringes, hiding her face behind her hands. “Oh my god, you cannot do that! What would your father say?”

“Who says he has to know?” You scoff. “I don’t tell him everything.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” she says, internally panicking. You’re thinking of what Joel’s lips feel like and she’s thinking about how this could destroy the town. “What do you even see in him? He’s the same age as your dad!”

“So?” You snap, glaring down at her. “He’s hot and funny and charming.” Your words come out in a breathy sigh. “I bet he has a big dick.”

Violet squeals and grabs a pillow off her bed, hiding her embarrassed face. You can’t help but laugh, sliding down off the bed so you’re sitting next to her. She mumbles something into the pillow, and your giggles get louder. When she pulls away, her face is beet red. “I can’t believe you’re a virgin,” she whispers.

You shrug your shoulders as your thoughts drift off to Joel. “Maybe not for long.”

A few days later, you find yourself upstairs in your room, dying from the summer heat. You were outside listening to an old iPod you found until the sun became too much, then you had to head indoors. Now, you’re on your bed, writing down your thoughts of the day in your journal.

The previous pages are all filled with thoughts on Joel. Unfortunately, you haven’t had any alone time with him recently. So much to Violet’s relief, you haven’t told him your feelings. Yet.

But there’s hope. You know your father is supposed to meet with him today. And you know Joel has a habit of showing up earlier than expected when your dad isn't around. You have a theory that he does it so he can see you. But you’ve never tested it. Until now.

As if on cue, there’s a loud knock on your front door, followed by Joel’s deep voice. “Hello? Joseph, are you here?”

Excitement flows through you and you slam your journal shut, shoving it beneath your pillow. You quickly wipe the sweat from your forehead before calling out to him. “He’s not home yet!” You yell. “I’m upstairs!”

For whatever reason, Joel takes that as an invitation and decides to follow the sound of your voice. He cautiously climbs the stairs as he heads for your room. Oh, he knows he shouldn’t be up here. Curiosity killed the cat.

But satisfaction brought it back.

He enters your room, stunned when he sees you on your bed, hair up high in a messy bun to keep off your neck. A white tank top hugs your top half, leaving little to the imagination. Beads of sweat drip down your chest, beneath the flimsy fabric, gliding down between the valley of your breasts hidden where he can barely see. The shorts you wear certainly have an effect on him and he has to force his eyes elsewhere.

Dangerous, he has put himself in a dangerous situation here. “Uh, hey,” he says, avoiding eye contact and glancing around your room.

“You here for my dad?” You ask innocently, staring at him in the hopes he’ll look at you again.

Joel nods. “I’m a bit early,” he trails off.

You smile to yourself. You already knew that. He’s here to see you.

“You’ve been coming over a lot,” you point out, and that grabs his attention. He raises an eyebrow in confusion, wondering where you’re going with this statement. “And it seems like you come earlier and earlier each time,” you say. You watch his chest rise as he takes in a deep breath. “You’re here to see me, aren’t you?”

“What?” He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “N-no.” You don’t miss the slight stutter in his voice. Oh, this is too good.

“Relax, old man,” you tease with a shake of your head. “I’m just fucking with you.”

He seems to calm down a little, rolling his eyes. “Should have known,” he snorts under his breath, but you still hear it.

“Excuse me?” You challenge him.

“Well, you know,” he mumbles in his smooth southern accent.

You feign annoyance, glaring at him. “Oh, so you believe everything you hear?” You ask harshly.

Joel huffs in disbelief. “You tellin’ me you ain’t the promiscuous little princess this whole town thinks you are?” His eyes bore into yours and damn it if your stomach doesn’t flutter with butterflies with how he stares you down.

“I know my reputation, Joel,” you say with a grin, squirming under his smoldering eyes. “People start rumors, rumors spiral out of control, sometimes it’s easier to roll with it than fight it. But I’m a virgin,” you confess and giggle at the way his eyes widen. “Yeah, that’s right,” you confirm as realization crosses his face.

The confession takes him off guard. And, admittedly, it makes him hot. He’s heard rumors about you, everyone has. And like the rest, he just assumed those rumors were true. You had notoriety about you, and even though it wasn’t the most flattering, it was intriguing. But this? Knowing you’re really just some innocent girl everyone wants, but no one’s had… That’s… That’s hot.

“Uh, really?” He coughs, trying to keep his interest in your sexuality concealed. Christ, you are his best friend’s daughter. You are totally and completely off limits. He shouldn’t even be having this discussion with you.

But then you smirk at him, blink those dazzling eyes and say things that drive his mind wild. “Yeah,” you whisper, voice dripping with suggestion. “Why? You want to change that?”

“W-what?” He stammers, feeling his heart nearly leap from his chest.

You sigh, sitting up so your knees press into the mattress. “Isn’t it obvious?” You ask as you lean forward a bit, using your arms to frame your chest and showing off your cleavage, glistening with sweat. “I want you, Joel, I have for a while,” you finally admit.

He shifts awkwardly, feeling his jeans get tighter the longer you look at him. He’s known you have a thing for him. You’re not exactly subtle. But this? This little admission is almost too much. Your father could arrive at any time. “Are you crazy?” He whispers.

“Oh, come on,” you roll your eyes. “I see the way you look at me. I’m not the only one feeling…something.”

Joel shakes his head, face turning crimson. Fuck, he’s got to get out of here. He’s got to get away from you before he says, or does, something he’ll definitely fucking regret.

You pout, slinking back onto your mattress. “You don’t like the idea of being my first?”

You say that and he bites back a groan, taking in a deep shaky breath. Of course, he likes the idea. He loves the idea. To know that he’d be the only man who has touched you, who has made you cum, who has heard your pretty moans of want. It’s such a hot fantasy. But he can’t. He won’t. It’s worth repeating, that you are the daughter of his best friend. And you’re so young.

But he can’t help but wonder.

“Why me?” He asks, hesitantly. “Why now? You’re an attractive, young girl. I know you’ve had boyfriends.”

“No one’s been worthy,” you say with total honesty.

This makes Joel laugh. Hard. “Wait, you’re telling me you think no one’s been worthy of sleeping with you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” you answer him. “Why?”

“Nothing,” he chuckles, still trying to wrap his brain around this entire conversation.

“Guys my age have proven time and time again why they don’t deserve me,” you tell him with sincerity.

“And I do?” He asks, clearly flattered by the thought.

“Don’t you?” You say quietly.

Just then, you hear the back door of your house open, meaning your dad is finally home. Bummer, just when things were getting interesting. You frown, knowing this is the end of your conversation.

Joel looks panicked like he’s trying to figure out an escape from your bedroom. It’s cute how nervous he is. But you hold your hand up, telling him to calm down.

“Hey, kid! Where are ya?” Your dad yells, voice booming through the house.

You bring a finger to your lips, suggesting Joel be quiet and let you take the lead. He looks annoyed but does as you say, standing completely still. “I’m upstairs!” You call out, getting off your bed. You motion for Joel to follow.

You know your dad will ask if the older man is around. So the best you can do is distract him long enough so Joel can sneak out of your room and out of your house. Should be easy.

“Can you come here, pumpkin?” Your dad asks.

You look at Joel and hold his gaze, smiling wickedly. “Coming, daddy!” You yell in response and see Joel’s eyes darken. You give him a wink before heading downstairs to meet your father, ready to play dumb.

He greets you with a smile and a small hug. “Has Joel come by yet?” He questions.

You shake your head. “Nope, haven’t seen him,” you lie. “But oh! Have you seen my flowers? They’re already blooming!” You say excitedly and drag your father out towards the backyard.

Joel listens and waits for you two to leave before he tiptoes downstairs and heads outside. Once on the porch, he takes a few moments to collect himself before knocking on the front door. Get it together, man, he thinks.

Your father hears the knocks from the other side of the house and heads back in to greet his friend. You follow along innocently, leaving behind your garden. Inside, you stand behind your father as he speaks to Joel.

The other man tries to pay attention to his friend, but it’s nearly impossible when you’re idling there, licking your lips, and fanning yourself due to the heat. He can see your tank top sticking to your sweaty skin and for a second thinks you’d feel so much better if he took it off for you.

Fuck, no. He can’t think like that.

But, shit, it would be so fucking hot. And as you bite down on your bottom lip, he swears he’s going to explode. What he wouldn’t give to be the one biting that lip.

“I’m going back upstairs,” you say in a bored tone, bringing him back to life. “Let me know if you need anything!” You sing out.

Your father bids you goodbye as he ushers Joel into the kitchen. He follows your dad, but can’t stop himself from checking out your ass as you leave. You are trouble.

Luck’s been your friend lately. After a couple more run-ins with Joel, you’re standing here in his weapons class with Violet, watching him intently. You’re not the only girl with eyes for him, and you have to admit that it annoys you. Violet finds it humorous, though.

There are girls your age blatantly flirting with him and he doesn’t push them away. He doesn’t exactly pay attention to it, either. But it’s enough to piss you off. If there were any cute guys in this class, you’d throw yourself at them just to show Joel how it feels. But alas, it’s mostly women.

And those women, the ones his age, you worry about them. You don’t know if, after all this, Joel sees you as some stupid kid. Maybe he doesn’t take you seriously. Maybe you’re just embarrassing yourself by flirting with him. The thought breaks your heart. Some of these women are gorgeous. You wouldn’t blame him for wanting one of them instead of you.

But you’re not going to back down. Yes, you joined this class because your father made you. He said you could learn a lot from Joel and you needed to know the basics of weapons to keep yourself safe. However, you’ve been sticking around just so you can be closer to the man who plagues all of your thoughts.

“Um, Joel?” You speak up, catching his attention immediately. The group of girls surrounding also turn around, disgusted by your interruption. “I need some help,” you say.

He could ignore you and go back to teaching the class. But where’s the fun in that? Instead, he passes instructions over to Jesse and leaves the jealous girls in favor of you. Violet groans and excuses herself, not willing to participate in whatever you have planned. She’s far too shy for this.

“What is it you need?” Joel asks, his voice deep and rough as he stands behind you.

You decide to get a little brave and place your handgun on the workbench in front of you. Sighing, you lean back, feeling Joel tense as you press yourself against him. His hand finds your hip, instinctively holding onto you. “I’m just not sure I’m doing this right,” you frown, cocking your head to the side.

Joel’s warm breath fans across your now exposed neck and it takes everything in his power to not just lean down and kiss your glowing skin. Instead, he squeezes your hip harder and angles his body around you to see what you’re doing. “Don’t know how to handle a gun?” He grunts, and you don’t miss the suggestive undertone in his words.

“I told you,” you laugh innocently. “I’m a virgin, Mr. Miller.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, dropping his hand from your body. He moves to stand next to you, but you already felt his hardness pressing into you. He glares down at you, shooting you a warning. “Behave,” he whispers.

“I’m always on my best behavior,” you tell him, flipping your hair over your shoulder. It’s blatant flirtation, and anyone who looks at you can see it, but you find it hard to care. He’s so close and he smells so good and he’s so warm. God, he’s perfect. “Like remember the other day?” You ask. “In my room?”

“Nothin’ happened in your room,” he snaps, glancing around to make sure no one heard you.

“I know,” you tell him. “Because I was on my best behavior.”

“Listen,” Joel interjects, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you to a more suitable location without prying eyes. “You’ve gotta stop,” he says, but you can hear the hesitancy in his voice. “You’re young. You don’t know what you want.”

Annoyed, you step into him, pressing your chest to his. His breath hitches, but he doesn’t move away. No, he lets you invade his personal space. “I know I want you,” you whisper, trailing your fingertips along his chest. “And I think you want me, too.”

“I can’t,” he says darkly, grabbing you by the wrist. “Do you have any idea what your dad would do to me?” He hisses, searching your eyes for any sign of understanding. Fuck, it would be so easy to just grab you and kiss you right here, pin you to the side of the barn and take you the way you want; the way he wants. But he has to be a better man. He has to.

“But,” you pout, looking up at him. “Do you know what I could do to you?”

Joel groans, dropping his head against yours. You close your eyes and tilt your chin up. His lips are so close to yours. If you just step on your tiptoes, you could kiss him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, brushing his knuckles across your cheek. “You wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Stunned, you stand frozen as Joel kisses your forehead and walks away from you. You’d be offended if that situation didn’t send warmth buzzing through your stomach. He’s teasing you and, as frustrating as it is, you take it as a good sign.

The next night, your father is on watchtower duty with one of the other town leaders. It’s not his favorite job in Jackson, but he only has to do it every so often. So it’s rare you have nights alone. He bid you goodnight before leaving, making sure you had food for the night. He still treats you like his little girl and you’re thankful for that. But it does make it harder for you sometimes. You never want to disappoint him.

You think about Joel and wonder what he’s doing tonight. Ellie’s been spending a lot of time with her friends. Joel’s told you before that she’s rarely home. He misses her, but he’s happy she’s putting herself out there. You would bet tonight she’s probably off with her little group, meaning Joel’s most likely home alone.

The smart thing to do would be to let it go. Just stay home, be the good girl your dad thinks you are. But your brain won’t shut up. Knowing Joel is just within reach and that you could actually be alone with him is the only thing you can focus on. You’ve got it bad.

“Just do it,” you murmur to yourself. “If he turns you away, he turns you away. At least you tried.” Your little pep talk gives you the energy you’re looking for and you decide to leave your house, opening your door to the darkness of the night.

Before you even have the chance to step out onto your porch, you bump into something, or rather, someone. You look up at the figure towering over you, heart skipping a beat at those familiar hazel eyes. “Joel,” you breathe. “What are you doing here?”

He looks ashamed, head down low like he’s afraid to make eye contact as he speaks. “I know your dad is workin’ the tower tonight,” he mumbles. “Thought I’d come check on you.”

The fluttering in your chest increases at his words. And the longer you stare at him, the more flustered you get. You know why he’s here. He’s finally done pushing you away. “That’s very kind of you,” you say softly, biting down on your lip.

He watches your every movement, slowly taking in every part of you from the knee-high socks to the sleep shorts to the baggy shirt that covers your beautiful body. When his gaze reaches your lips, you let out an involuntary sigh. He swallows the lump in his drying throat and steps closer to you, one foot at a time.

Your pink lips are parted in uncertainty, glittering eyes shining up at him intrusively. Under the cloudy porch light, you look like a doll, handcrafted to perfection. And you want him. Why? More importantly, why can’t he accept that? You’re stunning and he’s being his own personal cockblock.

A breath leaves your lips, and you open your mouth to speak, but before any words can come out, Joel’s wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. His warm lips crash against yours, aggressively kissing you, walking you back into your house. All coherent thoughts fly out the window as you kiss him back, savoring the feeling, sliding your arms across his neck, and pushing yourself up on your tippy toes.

He pulls away for only a second to catch a breath before claiming your lips again, trailing his tongue lightly over your bottom lip. It’s such an intense feeling that shoots pleasure down to your core. And with your lips parted, you accept his tongue, finally tasting him.

In all the kisses you’ve had with the many boys of Jackson, you’ve never felt like this. Joel’s mouth molds against yours with passion and his rough beard tickles your sensitive skin. He kisses you deeply, fiercely, like his life depends on it; like you’re a drug and he’s an addict. You’ve never felt so desired.

Even when you see black spots form behind your eyelids at the lack of air you’re getting, you can’t pull away from him. You don’t want to. You want to die just like this, smothered by his kisses.

But he can feel you struggling against him, and he laughs lightly, breaking the kiss so you can gasp for air. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes glazed over, and Joel wishes he had a camera so he could capture this image forever. He waits quietly for you to regain your balance, and when you give him a confident smile, he kisses you again.

No words are said as you jump up in his arms, feeling his hands grab your thighs to steady you. He holds you up, shutting the door behind him with his foot. Lips still attached, he carries you up the stairs to your bedroom, a place he’s been dreaming of.

He walks over to your bed, dropping you down before quickly closing your door. He wastes no time sauntering back over to you, crawling over your panting body. His hand reaches up, cupping your face so delicately.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asks and there’s a determination in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

“More than anything,” you answer without flinching. You’re confident in knowing what you want. And he finally accepts that.

Joel nods and kisses your lips and up to your ear before whispering the hottest thing you've ever heard. “Darlin’, I’m gonna fuck you so good, it’ll ruin you for other men.”

“Please,” you whine, eyes lidded, body writhing and hot, desperate for his touch.

He props himself up with one hand, the other trailing down the curve of your body, stopping at the hem of your shirt. He looks at you and you nod, giving him the permission he needs. As slow as possible, he pushes the dark green fabric up, gradually revealing your gleaming skin. He shuffles down your body, settling between your legs, kissing the exposed area of your stomach.

You let out such a pretty noise as his wet lips follow where he continues to push up your shirt. You grab the cotton in your hand, holding it just below your breasts as Joel continues his soft grazes over the expanse of your tummy. Exhaling deeply, your body twitches when you feel the brush of his beard against your hand.

“Let it go, baby girl,” he says in a low voice. Your shaking hand drops the hem of your shirt as your mind ignites at the pet name. Bliss takes over as Joel sits up, pulling you with him so he can remove your top completely.

A grunt leaves his lips as he looks you over, lips pressing against yours again as he pushes you back down onto the mattress. You melt into him as he takes over once more, kissing down your neck, gently biting you just enough to give you pleasure, but not too hard to leave a mark. Your hands don’t know what else to do but rest on his shoulder and the back of his neck as he claims you.

“Joel,” you whisper, and the way you say his name, full of lust and need, makes his gut clench. How could he have resisted you for so long? It doesn’t matter now. He has you beneath him and he intends on making you feel amazing.

His rough hands snake up your body as he kisses his way down your chest, tasting your salty skin, licking up the sweat line that’s formed between your pretty tits. Soft gasps pour out of you and it’s the sweetest melody he’s ever heard. He can only imagine how gorgeous you’ll sound when he’s actually fucking you.

“So pretty,” Joel murmurs, pressing wet, opened mouth kisses to your breast while his hand cups the other. “Fuckin’ stunning,” he corrects himself.

Your body arches from the bed, leaning into his every touch. Emotions you have never experienced before present themselves in colors behind your eyelids, reds, and purples of passion, warm oranges, and golds the way Joel makes you feel safe. And sounds you’ve never made come out loudly when his hot mouth encloses around your nipple, sucking tenderly while his calloused fingers pinch the other.

That fervor builds inside of you and excitement takes over. Joel feels you squirm beneath him and smiles at how receptive you are. And he’s only just started.

He pulls his mouth away and looks up at you. “Feel good?” He teases to which you nod. “Good.” He licks his lips and drops his gaze down to your shorts. He wants to take his time with you, make you feel good, and give you the experience you deserve. But the desire pulsing through his veins is eager. “Can I take these off?” He asks, snapping the band of your shorts.

“If you take your shirt off,” you smile, greedily grabbing for his chest.

“I guess that’s only fair,” he chuckles, sitting up slightly to pull the shirt over his head. He tosses it to the floor and leans back over you, your chest flush against his. He kisses your lips sweetly as he traces circles through the fabric of your shorts. “Now can I?”

“Yes,” you breathe, lifting your hips so he can pull your bottoms off. He sits back on his heels, lifting your legs, and kissing your skin as he rolls down your socks, too. His hands soothe over the goosebumps that form on your thighs before settling his body between them.

“Are you okay?” He questions, sliding those hands up to your panties. “We can stop--”

“Please, don’t,” you groan, frustrated and flustered.

Joel laughs and kisses your inner thigh. You tense for a second and then relax, looking down at him. He does it again, this time using his teeth to nip at the sensitive spot he’s discovered. He feels comfortable enough sucking a bruise into your flesh here. No one else will see.

Your hands grip the bed sheets next to you, mind racing, swirling with a million different thoughts, unable to focus on just one. No one’s ever been this close to you. And no one has ever made you feel so weak yet so strong.

“I want to taste you, darlin’,” Joel mumbles into your skin. For a second, you forget how to speak. You never thought you’d hear those words come from Joel. But they sound so good and he sounds desperate, even. “Will you let me, baby girl? Will you let me taste your pretty pussy?”

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, nodding your head furiously. “Yes, Joel,” you groan. “Please.”

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment, princess,” he tells you with a slight blush. His fingers dip into the band of your panties, slowly pulling them down. “Been dreaming of my head between your thighs, my tongue inside you. I used to be jealous of those guys you were with. How silly of me.”

His little confession sends your brain into another dimension. You can’t believe he just said that. Oh, but you were right. He does have feelings for you.

And he’s proving it to you by kissing up your thighs, taking his time to taste and explore every part of you. You whimper at every touch, eager for him to take you, make you his. But he’s moving so slow, you can barely stand it.

“Baby,” he coos, holding your thighs in place to stop you from thrashing around. “Relax,” he grins. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.”

“I need it,” you whine, trying to buck your hips up. “Please, Joel. I’ve waited s-so long.”

“And you can wait a little longer,” he teases, pushing himself up slightly. He brings two fingers to your lips, pressing into the soft flesh. “Open,” he orders. “Suck on my fingers.”

You groan and part your lips as Joel demands, sucking the two digits into your mouth. His eyes darken as your tongue rolls over them, getting them nice and wet with your saliva. You’re an enthusiastic one, trying to take them deeper. That cute little mouth of yours begins to drool around his hand.

“Good girl,” he praises as you moan around him. The sounds you make are so adorable and the light suction of your lips feels so sweet. He can admit now that he’s imagined what those lips would feel like wrapped around his cock. Given the way you’re trying to deepthroat his fingers, he knows you’ll be a greedy little cockslut. But that’s for another time. Right now, it’s all about you. “You’re doing so well,” he hums.

He pulls his fingers from your lips and you watch him as he slides them between your legs. You tense up, nerves taking over until Joel kisses you. He’s gentle, pressing a finger to your entrance once your rigid body unwinds.

“Oh!” You gasp as your body curves against the mattress, absorbing the feeling of Joel’s finger. You’ve touched yourself before, but nothing can compare to the caress of another person. And for it to be Joel is on a whole new level. Yes, you’ve pursued him, but you never imagined he’d be here, in your room, slipping his finger in and out of your cunt.

“Sound so sexy, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his finger through your slit, gathering your slick before pushing it back into you. He’s mesmerized by you, by the way your legs spread for him, overwhelmed with the notion that he’s your first. He’s the only man who’s touched you like this.

It’s sick, a little bit, the fact that he enjoys corrupting you. He likes the way your pretty little cunt squeezes around his finger. He likes that when he adds a second one, a heavy moan rips from your throat, a sound he’s sure no one else has heard before. He likes watching as his two fingers pump in and out of your virgin pussy demanding your juices leak out of you.

He loves the way you writhe beneath him, your hands pushing up against your pillows for something to hold on to while he finger fucks you quickly. He loves the way your perfect tits bounce from the force of his motions, knowing that your messy behavior is because he’s making you feel things no man has.

“J-Joel,” you stutter, grinding your hips down against his hand. “I-I need it,” you mewl. “Fuck, I need…”

“Tell me,” he growls, rotating his wrist until his fingers find that tender spot inside of you. The little moan you let out at his discovery is so fucking hot that he doesn’t hesitate to brush over that bundle of nerves over and over. “Tell me what you need, baby girl. And I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you whatever you fuckin’ want.”

“Oh, my god,” you choke, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to enhance every sensation rippling through your body. “I want y-you to…” You trail off as your words fail you. Your eyes roll back as Joel curls his fingers inside your wet cunt. “F-fuck,” you whimper.

He almost feels bad for teasing you, but watching your body fall apart beneath him is so satisfying. “Aw, poor girl,” he shakes his head. “You want me to lick your pussy, is that it? Huh? You want my tongue buried inside you?”

You nod, biting your lip so hard you taste metallic on your tongue. “Yes, yes,” you groan.

He doesn’t say anything, situating himself between your legs until you can feel his hot breath clash against your core. He doesn’t spare another second, bringing your legs over his shoulders and flicking his tongue through your sopping folds. You can’t contain the sounds you make at the feeling of his intrusion.

You can barely look down at him, too aroused that Joel Miller, a known leader in Jackson, a friend of your father, a respected citizen, is eating you out with fervor. His wet tongue feels so heavenly as it laps up your juices you have to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs around his head.

But you’ve never been in this position before. You don’t know how to act as he plunges his tongue inside of you, licking at your dripping core with desperation. The sounds he makes as he buries his face into your cunt are feral and you can’t stop yourself from grinding into him.

He accepts it, moaning as your taste coats his tongue. He wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, and you yelp, shooting your hands to his hair. You grab onto his graying strands, tugging hard as you lose yourself in the feeling. You can tell just how wet you are from the slurping sounds Joel makes mouthing your pussy.

You sigh in ecstasy as his lips wrap around your clit. He sucks lightly, moaning into you and sending vibrations up your spine. It’s such an unfamiliar pleasure, but you feel so lucky that Joel’s treating you right. You knew waiting for him would be worth it.

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan. “Feels so good. Don’t stop,” you breathe, and as soon as you say it, he stops.

You whine, propping yourself up on your elbows as Joel tears his face away from you. His beard is damp with your slick and his smile is lazy, he looks drugged up, almost. It’s kind of hot he got so turned on just by eating you out.

“Why’d you stop?” You frown and it’s so adorable, Joel can’t resist crawling back up to your lips. Your breath hitches as he leans in to kiss you, eyes closing when your lips meet. You taste yourself on his lips, and it’s so fucking seductive that you bring your hand to his neck to deepen the kiss.

“You taste good, don’t you?” He smirks, licking his lips. “Mm, I wish we had more time,” he admits. “I’d love to have you ride my face. Suffocate me with these gorgeous thighs. Cum all over my tongue.”

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper, running your hands over his chest. “Don’t tease me,” you huff.

“Next time,” he grins and slides off the bed gracefully. You watch as he undoes his jeans, sliding them down his legs with his briefs following them.

Your eyes widen at his naked body, impressed at how well he’s kept in shape. Even more, impressed by his size. You lick your lips absentmindedly as a thought pops into your head. But it’s like Joel can read your mind because before you say anything, he’s back on top of you.

“We can save that for next time, too,” he winks.

“You want there to be a next time?” You ask him, suddenly feeling shy.

“Of course,” he says before spitting into his hand and wrapping it around his dick. “You said it already. You know how I feel about you.”

“You like me,” you tease, spreading your legs and welcoming him between them. “So naughty of you, Mr. Miller.”

“Says the girl about to get fucked by her father’s friend,” he points out and your face heats up. “Are you ready for me, darlin’?” He asks for the last time.

You nod desperately. “Fuck me, please.”

“God, that’s hot,” he groans and eases himself into you. You let out a little whimper, and Joel softly kisses your cheek. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, I’ve got you. I’m gonna make you feel so good. Don’t worry.”

“Uh huh,” you whisper, biting your lip to hold back any sounds. He rubs comforting circles into your hips as he slowly pushes half of his cock in and out of you. You feel the pressure, appreciative that he’s going at a pace comfortable for you. You want more, but you’re almost afraid to ask. You don’t want to seem overly excited.

But Joel can hardly focus on anything else but the way your walls flutter around him. You’re so wet, so tight, so hot. Your pussy grips him so deliciously he nearly cums. He knew you’d feel fantastic, but he still wasn’t prepared for just how perfectly you fit him.

“Can I move?” He whispers, hoisting your leg up slightly so he can angle himself better. You nod, muttering out a quiet yeah. And he takes it slow, pushing the rest of the way into you. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he mumbles as you surround him.

“Joel,” you gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Fuck, I--” Words blur together in your head, leaving you speechless and unable to think one single coherent thought. All you can feel is Joel inside of you, stretching you with his thick cock, filling you up in all the ways you desire. “Please, oh god,” you cry out with no idea what you’re pleading for.

“So tight, baby girl,” he moans, picking up the speed of his hips. “God damn, you feel so good. Can’t believe I tried to let you go.” He shakes his head, mentally calling himself an idiot. He could have missed out on this. Missed out the cute faces you make as he pumps into you, the pretty sounds that tumble past your lips. He could have missed out on the feeling of your slutty little cunt squeezing him so tight that he wants to fuck you forever.

“Ungh,” you let out the most pathetic whine, pushing your ass into him, taking him deeper. He feels incredible, so long and hard and hitting that spot that makes your insides burn with need. “Faster,” you pant, digging your nails into his shoulder. “Go faster, ugh, fuck me.”

“Fuck,” Joel grunts, thrusting into you nice and fast, hips hitting yours so hard you can hear the erotic sounds of his skin slapping against yours fill your room. “So fuckin’ hot,” he groans, pulling you against him. “And so needy. This is what you wanted, isn’t it baby? To have a man fuck you senseless, take your virgin pussy all for himself.” He grins a wicked grin and moves his hand to your chest. “Mm, all behind daddy’s back.”

You roll your eyes at the comment and from the pleasure of Joel’s dick splitting you in half. That’s such a touchy subject, but you can’t lie, the fact that it’s practically forbidden makes it so damn alluring. You get off on secrets, obviously.

“Don’t,” you pout, wiggling your hips as a way of asking for more. Joel’s happy to oblige, feeling his release quickly approach. He holds you down by your hips, driving himself into you, claiming you all for himself.

“What’s wrong, princess?” He teases as you scrunch up your nose. “You’re so fuckin’ cute. And you’re takin’ me so well. Doin’ so good for daddy,” he chuckles.

“Fuck, shut up,” you groan, slapping his chest. “Don’t say that!”

“Say what?” He whispers, rolling his hips into yours. “Daddy?”

“Joel, I swear,” you breathe out in frustration.

“I think it’s kinda hot,” he says. “You’re mine now, you know that, right? My baby, my little fuck doll. It’s only fitting that I be your daddy.”

“I, fuck,” you whimper, hating how hot it sounds when he says that. Oh, this is so wrong.

“Come on, princess,” he moans low and dirty. “I know you wanna say it.”

You shake your head, feeling weak as your orgasm nears. You’re gonna cum. You’re gonna cum so hard all over Joel’s cock you can’t fucking believe it.

“Please?” He purrs, moving his hand down your body until his fingers find your swollen clit. “I’ll make you cum nice and hard if you say it. I know you want to, baby. It’s okay.”

His fingers slowly roll over your clit and that coupled with Joel’s cock stretching you and his heavy breathing in your ear makes you want to give in to his every desire. Your tummy tightens as that familiar feeling intensifies. Fuck, fuck. “Oh, god, daddy,” you moan in encouragement.

“Oof,” Joel smirks, rubbing your clit faster. “That’s my good girl. So fuckin’ sexy,” he tells you. “Now, say it louder.”

“Daddy, please!” You cry and that’s all it takes for you to cum, fucked happy for the first time by the man you really like. Joel works you through your climax, licking his lips as he feels you squirt all over his cock. Your warm juices cover him, and shit, it’s so sexy to watch you fall apart beneath him. And a sense of pride washes over him knowing he’s the first man to make you cum.

That thought is what tips him over the edge. He looks into your hazy eyes and lets go, releasing his load, filling your pussy with his hot cum. He shivers as he shoots into you, clenching his jaw to hold down his sounds. He swears he’s never cum that hard in his life.

For a moment, he just stares at you in your post-orgasm glow. Sweat makes your hair stick to your face, you wear such a weak smile, and your eyes are so droopy. You’re beautiful. You’re satiated. He made that happen.

“Wow,” he breathes and holds himself steady as he pulls out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. “That was…wow.”

“No regrets?” You ask with worry.

“None,” he answers quickly. “You?”

“Nope,” You giggle.

You happily roll over on top of Joel, dancing your fingers over his beard. He smiles and it’s so beautiful it makes you all warm inside. You lean in to kiss him, soft and slow this time. For now, you’re content. You never want him to leave.

Unfortunately, your luck can’t last forever. In your state of happiness, you don’t think that your father might be home soon. So when you suddenly hear his voice calling for you, your stomach sinks and you look at Joel in panic.

“Pumpkin, I’m home!” Your father shouts, announcing his return.

Joel hops out of your bed, tripping over the messed-up sheets to hurry and put his clothes on. You look around your room for something to slip into, grabbing your panties from the floor and then tearing through your blankets to find your nightshirt.

Just as you pull it over your head, your bedroom door opens and the smile falls from your father’s face. He stares in horror as Joel buttons his jeans, standing shirtless next to your bed that’s obviously been used. Red flashes before him as he looks at you, your messy hair and lack of pants. It all sinks in. And he loses control.

“Motherfucker,” he grumbles and lunges at Joel, grabbing the other man by the throat and knocking him to his knees. “I'll fucking kill you!” Your father screams, choking Joel with such force you can hear him gagging.

“Daddy, stop it!” You yell as tears well in your eyes. “Please!”

“You shut up!” Your father hisses, glaring daggers at you. God, what have you done? How could you do this to him? How could you do this to yourself? He’s so disappointed in you.

“Don’t hurt him,” you whimper, running over to try and pry your father’s hands off of Joel’s neck. He’s far too strong, you fear he might actually kill Joel right here in your room. “Stop, please!” You cry, pulling at his arm.

“Fucking pervert,” your dad spits and you watch with horror as Joel’s eyes flutter closed all while your father shouts. “You’re going to fucking pay for this.”

Masterlist

Joel Miller Taglist: @swtaura - @chxpsi - @extraneous-trip - @cerebellam - @tiredbeebo - @kirsteng42 - @trickstersp8 - @detectivebarba

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction

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