#when i believed: well i'll never be much to look at but at least i can be kind and work hard so that's what i'll do
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hello, i hope you're doing well, the world keeps getting crazier which means that i'm spending more time on fanfictions and i've been thinking about your jaytim fics. particularly, jason and how human he is when you write him. his awkwardness bc he was dead for a while and then doing. not very good. and how he probably has to catch up on simple stuff like who even taught him how to shave??? sure he learnt how to wire bombs but that didn't leave much time for stuff like sexuality and romance? just some experiences that he was robbed off. also very much interested in your take on jason's morality re: killing and what it means to him. anyways i'll dive back into my jason comic marathon <3
God yeah I think about this all the time, it's one of the things that interests me most about his character. Like how fucked up to die at 15 and wake up at like 18 and immediately launch yourself into your big crazy revenge plot that you think it's going to make you feel less howling animal inside but all it does is destroy your chances at ever having like, a normal interaction. By the time you calm down a little you've basically skipped from 15 to like 20. And everyone around you is also a freak who will never live a normal life and some have even also died but you're the only one missing a huge chunk out of your formative years. (Don't care about conflicting canon timelines or retcons.) (I also like this on a meta level bc it mirrors the fact that Jason was For Real Dead from 1988-2005.)
Re: morality, killing: A lot of his character is about catharsis to me. He is hotheaded and impulsive and direct and unsubtle (see: heads in a duffel bag) in a way the other Bats aren't. Who among us hasn't seen a news story and thought "I don't believe in state-sanctioned violence but damn, someone should kill that guy"? He is the guy who kills that guy. And sometimes it's for "noble" reasons and sometimes it isn't, and sometimes he might like to think it is but it isn't, and sometimes it immediately backfires and makes things worse for the people he is trying to help, and it can and has made him a hypocrite. It is also, I believe, an understandable stance for someone who was murdered as a child by a guy famous for essentially walking around wearing a T-shirt that says "I Love Hurting and Killing People (and I'm Definitely Going to Do It Again)." Bruce doesn't kill people because senseless violence made him an orphan. Jason kills people because senseless violence made him dead. Of course a child who lived and a child who died would look at death from opposite sides. It destroyed both of them at a formative age in opposite ways. Bruce crystallized around the after, and Jason around the before. I think it makes perfect sense that for the rest of their lives they would keep seeing only the after, and only the before, and in doing so keep looking past each other.
I feel like a lot of Jason meta is either "The Bats are so naive, Jason is the only realist" OR "Here's why Batman is right and Jason is an irredeemable monster" or whatever. Neither of those readings are compelling to me. I don't care which character is "right" or "good." If I wanted to read about good people making morally airtight choices I would go read Goofus and Gallant but only the Gallant parts and then kill myself. None of the Bats act in a way that aligns with my real-life morals. I think the "killing question" is most interesting viewed in the context of an individual character's relationship with violence and justice and atonement and forgiveness and consequences and least interesting in the context of pitting characters against each other to determine Who's Right and Who's Wrong.
I wrote the following exchange a while back as an exercise to explore this very topic.
Warning for CSA mention below the cut.
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“I mean, hell, what if he got hit by a bus? Anyone can die, any time. Think of me as a big angry red bus.” Tim’s eyes on him feel like burning, but not so immediate as fire. More like the warning heat of sunburn: for now a faint prickling, for weeks after an ache. “End of the day? I don’t think he should be alive. I don’t think the state should get to decide who lives and who dies, but I’m not the state. And I know people can be rehabilitated. I know there’s a chance he could change, and never do it again, and spend the rest of his days saving kittens and helping little old ladies cross the street. But from what I’ve seen, this kinda guy, we’re talking a puny fucking chance. There’s people the system fails and people who could be helped by a better system and then there’s people who aren’t gonna fucking change. They’re just gonna keep doing awful shit, because it gets them off. Hurting kids. Hurting anyone they think is less powerful, or less of a person. Fuck that. The thing is, I know they’re people. And I’m a person too. And I don’t have the fucking right. To be the arbiter of fucked-up justice or whatever. But you know what? I can’t find it in me to give a shit. If those scumbags wanna kill me back, they can have at it, that’s their prerogative. Until then, some fuck rapes a five-year-old? No, fuck that. What if he does it again? He’s already done it. Hurt that kid forever. Snuffed out that thing inside them, whatever it is that makes kids think the world isn’t a shitshow. Can’t unring that fucking bell. Why should he—once was too many! Don’t you get it? That kinda guy—once was already too many! Why should he get to do it twice? And so fucking many of ‘em do it twice. Can’t keep your hands off a little kid? Fuck you. Headshot. Problem solved. You can’t change my mind about this, Red. I didn’t make the choice to kill people on a fucking whim. I thought about Hell and decided I’m up for it. Alright? Fuck off.”
“You don’t have to convince me.”
“And another thing—” His mouth clicks shut. “I—what?”
“I said you don’t have to convince me.” Tim examines his glass, tilting the last swallow of watery gin back and forth. “If I were going to argue with you, I suppose I’d quote a statistic about how something like 93% of childhood sexual abuse is perpetuated from within the immediate family, and killing the abuser could drastically destabilize the child’s living situation and potentially place them at risk for other types of harm—”
“There’s nothing stable about—!”
“—but I’m not going to argue with you, because I don’t want to, because frankly I don’t care. I should—some days I’m better, and I do—but I don’t at the moment. Not tonight.”
Jason stares at him for long enough that Tim grows visibly uncomfortable, shoulders stiffening.
“What,” he says, eyes darting up to Jason’s, then away. His long fingers never stop playing with the glass, rolling it slowly, tracing the same wet circle on the tabletop. Jason wishes he would just finish his drink. And hold still.
“You don’t care,” Jason repeats. “Great. Namaste. So what’s with the interrogation?”
“Interr—?” Tim looks startled. “Jason, I was asking.”
-
So yeah.
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was knocked into the exosphere today, mentally speaking, by this here comment: "she's not stylish or fashionable, but she looks neat and tidy and she certainly works hard"
#don't you hate it sometimes when your parents' friends make comments:-)#anyway i know this to be true but wow does it smack me right back to high school#when i believed: well i'll never be much to look at but at least i can be kind and work hard so that's what i'll do#sheesh!!!!!!!!#also lol i was wondering why i felt so cranky just now. i think i know. ha ha
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best friend's older sister!sevika headcanons pt. 2
contains: modern!au, nsfw content (so minors/ageless blogs dni!!), cursing, reader is mentioned to have family issues, hcs + blurbs set pre-confession and post-confession, mention of spanking, strap-on sex (reader receiving), breeding kink, dirty talk, degrading (the word "slut" is used), humiliation kink, sevika physically teasing reader at family dinner, mention of smoking, reader's body is referred to w the terms "pussy" and "clit"
pt. 1
best friend's older sister!sevika who pauses outside her door when she hears the muffled noises of your crying, followed by her sister's voice. her eyebrows immediately draw in concern, stomach turning as possibilities run through her mind. you mentioned having an exam earlier this week -- did you fail it? was someone bothering you? did you need her to do anything?
when her sister's in the shower, she knocks quietly on the door, your call of, "yeah?" pushing her to enter.
once she does, her eyes immediately scan your face, looking for signs of distress. when she finds your eyes pink and glossy, a bolt of nervousness shoots through her, taking her off guard for a second.
once she swallows down the feeling, she tilts her head at you, leaning on the frame. "all okay?" she asks, trying to keep her voice levelled, not wanting to reveal just how much worry is stirring within.
"yeah." your mouth is twisted in something resembling pain, and she eyes you carefully as you sit up in the bed. "it's just, you know, family stuff."
she nods. she understands that, alright. most people would think that being the older of the two, she'd fight with her father less than her little sister, but the truth is that out of everyone in her house, they butt heads more than anyone else. she usually shrugs it off when anyone asks, with her most popular coping mechanism being fuming in her bedroom with a cigar while heavy music blankets over all her thoughts. probably not the healthiest way to react, but it's worked for this long. besides, she doesn't have the patience to sit at a desk and do that journalling bullshit her sister always prattles on about.
"sorry." she contemplates for a few moments on what else she could say to help, rocking on the balls of her sock-clad feet. all she comes up with is, "families suck," silently berating herself for being so incompetent.
but, at least you laugh, the noise a bit breathless, so sevika takes pride in that. "yeah, that's the understatement of the century."
"do you wanna, I don't know, talk about it?" just to ease the weight of the question, she mutters, "you know, I'm pretty good at belting insults at anyone who deserves it."
"oh, yes, I'm sure of it." you nod at the wall where the shower can be heard from. "she's told me how vicious you were in middle school."
she bristles, feeling her stomach tighten in embarrassment. she was a little asshole, alright, and she can't lie, her younger sister bore the brunt of it. something she secretly regrets now -- not that she'd ever admit to it. she probably never would've revealed it you in the first place if not for her sister ratting her out.
"well, I-- that was middle school. I'm not like that now."
your eyebrow raises, lips tilting up. "you know, some people would argue that who you are as a kid shows what kind of person you are at the core of it."
she scoffs. "who, freud? considering the other stuff I've heard about that guy, I think I'll pass on believing that bullshit."
"oh, c'mon, I can tell you all the merits about his theories."
"and while that sounds riveting, I guess, I'd prefer knowing if you... you know, need anything?" she shrugs, her eyes trained on you.
you smile softly, the corners of your lips crinkling. "thank you. I don't feel like talking about it much now, but I appreciate it a lot."
she nods, rasping on the doorframe, unsure as to how to proceed now.
"huh, someone's not really used to this."
she rolls her eyes, sending you a half-hearted glare. "oh, shut up."
best friend's older sister!sevika whose attention towards you is beginning to become obvious, even for you. she's started seeking you out instead of any of your other friends when she's looking for her sister, and when she enters the room, her eyes always flicker to you immediately. it makes you feel like a spotlight is casted upon you, your entire body, your entire being, reserved for sevika.
one day, one of the girls in your group leans over to you, her tone lowered with conspiracy. "you know, I think sevika has a thing for you."
your best friend groans, smacking her arm. "god, please! that's my sister, for god's sake."
"and? she's hot?"
her face morphs into complete disgust, eyes squeezing shut. "please, that's so fucking gross."
while you laugh along with the conversation, you can't help but warily glance to your best friend, mind whirring with thoughts of whether or not she's being earnest. you and sevika aren't, well, anything really -- at least not anything officially declared or acted upon. for months, it's just been tosses and back-and-forths of teasing and flirting. but, there has been no step over the threshold that divides you two between nameless, vague chemistry and the agreement to work towards a real relationship.
but, still, there is something there, and you cradle a hope in your chest that it'll turn into more one day, an actual thing that can be named. but, it's hard to feel positive about that outcome when you're not even certain if your best friend would approve or feel comfortable.
she meets your pondering stare, and you immediately backtrack, turning away so she can't read what's on your face.
a moment later, her palm rests on your knee and she laughs, tone as casual as ever when she says, "honestly, if anyone could tame her, it's you."
your lips part in shock, but she simply squeezes down gently before carrying on with the conversation.
best friend's older sister!sevika who pretty much wants to wring her cousin's neck out when she spots her conversing with you. well, it's not the conversing that's the problem -- she's not that crazy. or at least, she pretends not to be.
it's the fact that she knows her cousin hits on every one of her and her sister's friends, and she's clearly doing that with you right now, eyes half-lidded and voice lowered to what sevika hopes sounds more like darth vader than sexy to you. god, she nearly wants to kill her sister for being stupid enough to leave you alone with her. but, judging from her sister's shit-eating grin from where she stands at the food table, sevika suspects that it was intentional.
she tries not to crush her plastic red cup in her hand and send her vodka-spiked punch spilling everywhere. when her sister had casually mentioned last night that you'd be showing up to this family barbecue, sevika, much to her own embarrassment, had felt an immediate buzz of anticipation at knowing you'd be there. it's stupid, she knows. she's a grown ass woman, not some teenager -- yet, there she was, biting back a smile as she walked up the flight of stairs back to her bedroom. and when she reached her destination, she could barely focus, her thoughts straying to how she'll get a rise out of you rather than remaining on the toy she was meant to be building for the kid she babysits, isha.
she couldn't lie to herself about it. she was goddamn excited.
if only she had known how the day would wind up. it's nearing to late afternoon, and still, she hasn't spoken to you once. as soon as you and her sister had reached, the two of you had met with your usual gaggle of girls. and sevika hadn't been in the mood to entertain their giggles and leering stares upon coming to get you from them. and so, she waited. and then, you were dragged off to talk to her sister's favourite cousins, and then, to the idiot you're currently speaking to. a few minutes into what sevika hopes is a cringe-inducing conversation, her sister had left you to go to the food table.
she knows she has no reason to be jealous of her cousin. after all, look at the dimwit, she barely has game. she's so flashy with it, no subtlety. if you weren't the object of her cousin's attention, she might've actually taken some amusement in watching from afar.
but, no, it just had to be you. she can't even blame her cousin -- after all, you do look damn good, that's for certain. if this wasn't a family event, she'd be dragging you to the nearest corner, pushing you against the wall, and teasing you until you're a squirming little mess. god, she's just throbbing at the idea of it.
but, the feeling gets washed over with ice when her dumb cousin starts stroking her knuckles against your arm. stupid kid. and why are you smiling at her? do you not realize she's flirting? do you like that she's flirting? oh, now that thought leaves a sour taste in her mouth.
her composure snaps when she sees you laugh, and with a firm toss of her cup in the nearest garbage bag, she calmly makes her way to you. she knows she ought to be better than this. she should be the one with sense, with rationality -- the one who keeps her shit together while you become a fumbling mess whose feelings might as well be written on your forehead. that should be you. not her.
but, it's like her mind is working on overdrive, all her instincts honed in on making sure she takes you away and has you all to herself.
when she slides next to you two, your jump in surprise, looking up at her. her eyes rove over your features, drinking you in, wondering momentarily if you even realize how crazy you drive her.
"hey, sev, are you looking for your sister? because she's--"
"no," she cuts in, her palm bracing against the small of your back. "give us a sec."
"wha-- but, I--"
sevika doesn't give her cousin a moment to protest, firmly guiding you away to the front of her house, which has been left secluded now that people are eating in the backyard.
when you stumble into her back from her sudden halt, you blow out a frustrated puff of air. "what the hell was that?"
she feels her thick, dark eyebrows furrow, her gaze casted down on you, unwavering and focused. "I should be asking you that. why were you talking to her?"
"your sister left me with her!" you protest, your voice raising a pitch she'd find cuter if it weren't for the sour taste in her mouth.
"and? that makes you incapable of leaving a conversation afterwards?"
your eye twitches. "and why should I have left the conversation?"
sevika swallows, feeling her throat bob with the movement. if she acts like some jealous girlfriend, it'll be all too clear what it is she feels. and that's a bit too exposing for her. sure, you two flirt and push-and-pull, but it's something she could easily pass as a game if ever needed be. but, jealousy, disliking you talking to someone other than her? that's way too obvious, and there's no way of covering that up.
so, she takes a different route. "you know, if you're gonna be hitting on someone at this thing, it should be--"
"you?"
she nearly splutters, blinking hard at your growing smirk before continuing. "no. it should be someone other than the fuckboy-wanna-be relative who hits on anything with a pair of nice legs and pretty eyes."
your smile only widens and sevika has the sudden urge to bend you over her lap until you're a sobbing mess.
"so, you think I have nice legs and pretty eyes?"
"are you dense? how is that what you focus on?" despite the harsh undertone of her words, she can feel her body stiffening up under your watchful gaze, desperately hoping you don't realize just how badly she wants your attention. it feels pathetic, really, to be putting up a fit like this because just you spoke to someone flirtatious other than her. shit, she needs to save some face.
"yeah, because I think it's weird how you're dictating who I can speak to as though you're my girlfriend or something!"
"that's not how I'm acting--"
"yes, it is!" you scoff, stalking up to her and pointing a finger against her chest, the contact making her jerk back from the spark it leaves. "you wouldn't be this pissed if it was just about concern."
she's silent for a few seconds, her mind running through possible comebacks. the only one she can think of is a hard, "you don't know that."
you tilt your head at her, as though she's some kid in need of a scolding. it only exacerbates her frustration, causing it to flare up low in her gut. "well, if it's just about you being concerned, then let me continue talking to her. you warned me, I took it in stride, and if things go wrong, you can always rub it in my face late, okay?"
she sighs, beginning to regret having ever acted out now that this is the turn the situation is taking. you were supposed to take her words in, and do as she says. instead, you're arguing back, just like you always do. but, she knows that at this point, she'd be a hypocrite to complain about it. she knows it's why she likes you.
"you really want that?"
you cross your arms over your chest, and sevika tries not to let her eyes stray downwards. "is there a reason why I shouldn't?"
stupid mind games. sometimes, she hated being gay because of this.
she likes you, sure, but she doesn't have the patience to beat around the bush. which she's aware is hypocritical and stupid, considering that's what she's been doing this entire conversation. but, still.
so, she shrugs. "beats me."
your eyes flash with something, jaw clenching. sevika can't tell if it's a look of determination or anger.
but, what does it matter if you're spinning around to stomp back into the backyard?
she releases an exasperated breath, fishing for her cigarettes.
best friend's older sister!sevika whose voice makes you jump when you're stirring instant noodles in a frothy pot of water later that night.
"jesus, sevika!" you gasp, your other hand flying to clutch your chest. "what the fuck are you doing here?"
"it's my house, remember?" she dryly remarks, padding over to the fridge and grabbing a carton of milk. pinching the flap open, she drinks straight from it. you'd find it gross if it weren't for the way her lips wrap around the soggy cardboard material, the muscles of her neck protruding as she gulps it down.
when she bends down to put it back, you turn away, your stomach churning from how any bit of laughter is totally drained from her voice, leaving it flat and achingly unfamiliar.
you've felt guilty since the barbecue. sure, it's annoying that she makes demands of you without actually admitting her feelings. but, it's clear that she was upset in that moment. so, maybe you should've been a tad nicer.
"uh, sevika?" you meekly call out right as she's about to exit the kitchen.
she freezes in the entryway, casting you a sidelong glance over her shoulder, which is pinched from the strap of her tight tank top. god, you wanna kiss the indent it leaves.
"I..." you trail off, shifting side to side on your feet, the low bubbling of the water the only noise filling the room. you don't know what's too much or too little, so you mull over your words before tentatively saying, "you know, I'm not interested in your cousin. like, at all. I had no intention of flirting back with her, or, like, pursuing something with her."
she's silent for a few seconds, her eyes flicking away as her jaw tenses, which sends her cheeks hollowing out. you stare at her for a few seconds before focusing your attention back to stirring the noodles, needing something to occupy your thoughts other than the thick, stifling tension seizing the air.
finally, she speaks, her voice low but firm with surety. "well, I didn't want you to flirt with her... for reasons other than what I said."
your stomach tightens up in anxious, gut-wrenching excitement, forcing your mouth to remain in a clenched line. you know this isn't exactly a confession, but it's unspoken between you two -- what she means, that is. there could only be one reason other than concern that would explain how protective she was earlier. a reason that, sure, you're not certain about regarding the details or her intentions, but that nonetheless has you feeling like you could jump with the amount of energy surging through you at the mention of it. no matter how vague.
you can sense she won't say anymore, though, her body rigid with tension. so, to try to lighten the mood, your own body sagging in relief now that you two have somewhat made amends, you drawl out, "yeah, that much was clear."
she snickers, turning fully to you and propping her arm on the door frame. you expect her to give her own retort, but instead, she just... watches you. smirk slowly curling on her face, eyes crinkling in amusement, she simply stares at you.
after a few moments of feeling like the side of your head is burning from her razor-sharp gaze, you say, "what?"
the corner of her mouth quirks up further. "for someone who says it was obvious, that was a pretty big grin you had on your face just now."
you huff indignantly, ducking you head down to the noodles in order to avoid getting caught in your flustered state. "well, I'm just grinning because my noodles are almost done."
she peers at the time flashing over the stove before shaking her head and grimacing at the pot. "why are you even eating this crap at 2:00AM? we have actual food in the fridge."
"I was craving this," you defend with a squeak, shooting her what you pray is a convincing glare despite your heart racing from her earlier words. "besides, I didn't know if your family would be having the leftovers."
"don't be stupid," she chides gruffly. after a pause, she adds, "you know you're family."
this time, you can't resist the beam that overtakes your face, eyes squeezing in delight as your cheeks throb pleasantly from the joy embracing you. you've, of course, heard this sentiment from your best friend plenty of times before, but never from sevika.
"thanks," you murmur feebly, sending her a small, bash smile.
she simply nods in return, her lips pressing together as she continues observing you.
part of you basks under it. the attention of her focused grey eyes, the heavy weight of her gaze -- it all sends a thrill to you that's hot and burning, making you feel you're being revived from a lifelong slumber. how did you ever manage without the life-altering feeling which is sevika's gaze directed to you?
"so, I guess I should head up," she says, sticking a thumb behind her.
your body immediately tenses in protest. she can't leave -- not like this, not after this tender moment you two just shared. not when her presence here holds the contrast of warm assurance and ice-cold surprise that you're always craving.
a loud "no!" bursts from your lip as she's just about to turn.
when she sends you an inquisitive stare, forehead wrinkled in confusion, you feel your face heat up in embarrassment over your over-eagerness. but, it's too late to scale back, so you force yourself to proceed with, "I just-- why don't we hang out a bit? maybe watch gilmore girls. and, I don't know, share the noodles and, well, left overs."
her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise, and it almost makes you want to cackle. how could she even be surprised you want to spend time with her? are you just that good at hiding your want for her, or is she that romantically dense?
"um, yeah, okay," she says, a hand curving up along the back of her neck. "but, don't think I'll eat that crap you're making."
your shoulders ease at the joke, laughing as you wag your wooden spoon at her. "it's good, okay? I don't know why you'd deprive yourself of it."
"if I didn't deprive myself, I wouldn't have these." she flexes her bicep, and you try not to let your gaze roam over the toned muscle bulging out. no need to satisfy her that much. "and wouldn't that be a pity for you?"
you bristle, but still find yourself unable to quell the laughter that bubbles up your throat. "fuck off. my life isn't so sad that your muscles are my sanctuary."
"fair point -- maybe 'religion' is a better term."
ugh, her grin is infuriatingly coy as she heads back to the fridge, pulling out a tupperware, her veins bulging out as she grips it.
you want to fuck her so bad. and then, yell at her. and then, fuck her again.
"just, shut up and heat up the leftovers," you grumble, turning your back to her as her laugh, hearty and scratchy in all the right ways, flows from her lips.
honestly, the lack of eye contact is for both of your guys' benefit. god knows how you'll react if you see that cute gap again.
best friend's older sister!sevika who, after you two start dating, places her long fingers on your thigh when you join her family for dinner. she knows it's a bit evil of her, but she can't help it. your body is just so reactive -- a fact that she was delighted to learn upon your first time sleeping together. it just makes it so much fun to toy with you like this.
your leg immediately flinches when her fingernails skim along your skin, and she'd probably smile if she wasn't so well-trained in public play to know exactly how to keep a straight face.
but, you? she knows you're struggling. she can feel it in the way you shift in your seat, shoulders rolling as her warm palm flattens against your skin, her fingers sinking into the plush of your thigh. or how your body suddenly lurches forward when she suddenly pinches her nails into the skin, causing everyone at the table to dart concerned glances your way.
you sheepishly laugh it off, shaking your head and saying, "sorry, I, um-- I just got a weird shiver."
sevika honestly feels impressed that you're able to keep your cool this well, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow. she knows it probably goes against the whole supportive girlfriend thing, but seeing you manage to remain calm only makes her want to test you even more.
and so, she inches her fingers up so that they smooth along the tender skin of your inner thigh. you immediately stiffen up, your back straightening to an almost comedic right angle. sevika's mouth twists, trying to hold in a chuckle at how you writhe when her blunt nails begin to trace shapes into the hot patch of skin. god, she wants to dip her fingers in further, feel the tight heat of your pussy wrap around her digit as she pumps it in and out of you.
she clears her own throat to cut off her breaths from getting too shallow. god, she needs a cold shower or some shit. plus, the entire point was to get you hot and bothered, not her.
trying to gather her bearings, she presses her fingers into the sensitive area, slightly digging in the curves of her nails, trying to replicate she sharp sting you feel when she sinks her teeth into that spot before eating you out.
it seems se's successful, based on the way your legs shift again, pressing together and trapping her hand there. and your cute face is noticeably distracted, expression glazed over, lips hanging open.
when your fingers curl around her wrist, keeping her hand there, she smirks behind the rim of her glass, taking a careful sip before wrenching her hand free from your grip, continuing with her meal.
through the animated conversation her sister and old man are having, she can hear you grunt in frustration.
but, she doesn't even turn to you. after all, what would be the fun if she just gave you what you wanted?
best friend's older sister!sevika who shakes you from your deep sleep when you're curled up on the mattress in her living room, your best friend fast asleep on the couch. before you can mumble incoherently, your eyes barely making out her broad frame through the sleep-tinged blur, she presses a finger to your mouth, quietly shushing you.
you nod, your heavy eyes blinking rapidly to register what's going on. but, you can barely get a whisper in before sevika scoops you up, her strong arms easily carrying you up the stairs to her bedroom. you have to bite back a gasp at the sudden manhandling, though a spike of arousal zips through you from how easily she takes you to her bedroom, dropping you unceremoniously onto her navy blankets.
you frown at her, eyes sharpened into a glare. "sevika, wha--"
she plants her lips on you, crawling on top of you and pinning your body to the bed with hers. she's sloppy and ungraceful with it, shoving her tongue into your mouth and swirling it around yours as a hand slides up to loosely grip your throat.
"you didn't think I'd leave you hanging, did you?" she mumbles against your lips, her hand drifting down your body to start fiddling with the waistband of your pajama shorts.
"well, you already did once, so I wouldn't be surprised if it happened again," you murmur against her prodding mouth, trying to keep your voice dignified in light of all the pants and whines beginning to crawl up your throat.
"awe, c'mon, baby," she snickers, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your cheek while the rest of you practically combusts from the low, scolding tone she takes when calling you that. "even I have my limits."
and, oh, how fucking good it feels for sevika's limits to be broken, you think as she pounds into you with her dark purple strap-on, her hand over your mouth as she pumps her hips steadily, hissing whenever her bed frame bumps too loudly against the wall.
you wrap your legs around her, nails raking up her back as the toy plunges into you over and over again, stretching your walls taut. it feels good, so good, the dull ache of her nearly-too-big dildo making your entire pussy throb in a way that makes you feel impossibly full.
"listen to that," she whispers against your ear, the hot moist of her breath making you break out into shivers. "your pussy is soaking my new sheets. such a mess you're making."
god, you just leak even more from those words, the mix of your juices and the lube creating deliciously loud squelching noises in her room, only growing more pointed and firm when she begins to drill particularly hard, intentional thrusts into you. the movements have the bulb her of dick pushing against your g-spot with every rock of her body, and it sends a warm tingle through you, wrapping your nerves in pleasure and sparking them to life.
you whine against her hand, eyes rolling back when her cold, mechanical finger begins to flick along your clit. the cool, steel-hard texture of it against your swollen little nub has your body arching up, each brush and flick feeling so heightened through all the other sensations running through you.
"yeah," she chuckles darkly, grazing her teeth along your earlobe. "you like that, don't you? getting this pussy slutted out, having me fucking up your guts and making room for my babies?"
your hips jolt up at those words, a loud whine erupting from your mouth before you can stop it. sevika hisses at it, pressing her mouth to yours, her thighs smacking against yours as she continues drilling you into her mattress.
"be quiet," she rasps, her breaths shattering into uneven little pants. "you want everyone in this house to know what a slut you are? you want everyone to know you couldn't last a night in here without getting dicked down by your best friend's sister?"
you can barely respond, your entire body set aflame with the pleasure of her on top of you, surrounding you with nothing but warm skin, hard muscle and filthy, nasty little noises.
"ah," you moan quietly against her mouth, fingers tracing the indents your nails have left in her back. "feels s'good, I just-- I can't--"
"I know, baby, I know," she grunts, fingers wrapping around your jaw and shaking your face like you're her personal doll. "no need to worry your pretty head with talking, yeah? just be good and let me cream this pussy."
and so, you do. over and over and over again.
best friend's older sister!sevika who tries not to smirk too hard when her sister asks over breakfast why you're wearing a turtleneck in the middle of july.
#IK Y'ALL HAVE BEEN WANTING A PT. 2 SO I'M SOOOO PUMPED TO POST THIS <333#as usual pls pls let me know what you guys thought!!! even if it's just a line you liked or just a basic concept you enjoyed I wanna know!!#it makes super happy to know what you guys think mwah mwah#s.writing#sevika arcane#sevika x reader#sevika x you#arcane x reader#arcane x you
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jason todd didn't like feeling weak. not physically, not emotionally, not in any way. he was red hood, the second robin, the guy who crawled his way out of the grave, the guy who made criminals run the second they saw him. he wasn't fragile.
at least, that's what he told himself.
but you knew better.
you saw the way his hands shook sometimes, how he clenched his jaw so tight it looked like it hurt. how he acted like he was fine, always fine, even when he was bleeding right in front of you.
like tonight.
he got hit▰bullet to the side, not deep enough to be life threatening, but deep enough that he couldn't just ignore it. he tried to, though.
"i don’t need help," he muttered, struggling to take off his jacket without wincing.
"jason, you’re literally bleeding on my floor."
"i’ve had worse."
"that’s not the point." you crossed your arms. "sit down. let me fix it."
he sighed like you were asking him to do something absurd, but he sat. that alone told you everything.
you came back, first aid kit in hand & went to work on the wound while he sat there, way too tense.
“you don't have to do this," he muttered.
"i know."
his jaw tightened, but he didn't move away. you stitched him up carefully, your fingers brushing against his skin, & he hardly moved.
"you're not a burden, you know," you said after a minute.
he scoffed. "never said i was."
"you don't have to. i see it every time you push me away." you paused, looking up at him. "you don't have to be strong all the time, jason."
his eyes flickered. something in him hesitated, but he didn't let it break through.
"i hate this," he muttered.
"hate what?"
"feeling like this." he motioned at himself, at the bandages, at you sitting next to him. "weak."
you frowned. "jason, you're not weak."
"doesn't feel like it."
your chest felt tight. you reached for his hand, & he let you, just like he always did. but this time, it's different. that it's not just jason who you're holding, but the red hood as well.
"being strong doesn't mean doing everything alone," you said quietly. "sometimes it means letting people help."
he swallowed, his fingers twitching around yours. you’d held hands before, curled up on the couch, laced fingers absentmindedly.
but this was different. this was him holding on like he needed to.
& then, barely above a whisper, he said, "i don’t wanna do this alone."
you squeezed his hand. "you don’t have to."
he let out a shaky breath, nodded, & for the first time, he didn't just let you help▰he let himself believe he needed it. he let himself accept the fact that he indeed, needs it.
you finally got him into bed, though he agrued about not being tired. but the second his head hit the pillow, you could tell▰he was exhausted.
yet, he didn't sleep.
he just laid there, staring at the ceiling, breathing too controlled, too careful.
"you're thinking too much," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair.
he huffed. "i don't think that's possible."
you smiled. "wanna bet?"
he rolled onto his side, looking at you, with an unreadable expression. "what if i wake up in a panic again?"
"then i'll be here."
his brows furrowed. "you shouldn't have to deal with that."
"jason." you stroked your thumb over his cheek, soft(is what you thought when your hand came in contact with his soft cheek, & is what jason thought when his cheek came in contact with your soft hand.)
"loving you doesn't mean only staying for the easy parts. i want to be here. always."
he breathed slowly, like he was struggling to let himself believe you. maybe it would take time. but right now, he was here, letting you hold him, & that was enough.
he brought you closer still, his hand lying flat upon your waist, fingers just tight enough on the shirt to cling. "you're too good for me," he murmured against your skin.
"& you're an idiot," you whisper back.
a soft laugh rolled from him & lay warm across your collarbone. he drew a breath at last, uncoiling finally, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your back.
"thanks," he mutters after a while.
"for what?"
"for this. for staying."
you pressed a kiss to his forehead, holding him a little tighter. "like i said: always."
& this time, he let himself believe it.
© minorlyatfault, 2025
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finally did a little of the organizing i’ve been meaning to do for ages and of course it wasn’t even that bad other than how hot it is in the attic, it didn’t take much time and i was able to make some floorspace though of course i still have all the legos i need to deal with and i pulled out a couple more things to go through/get rid of BUT it looks slightly less horrible in my room so i’m pleased
plus i have had some other ideas recently about switching some drawers around, it would just be a whole thing to do that so i really wanna think on how best to go about it before i start making that mess
#personal#was so excited though bc i decided i wanna reread the american girl books in fact i'm sure there's quite a few i never got to#and we still have a ton probably virtually everything we ever had actually#but i still had a couple clothing items that didn't sell and i was just like oh man i loved this shit so much#and there was a catalog i guess that we used for pricing and there was so much good shit in there#what i would've given for one of their fancy beds omg#i could've done that i suppose but i cared more about saving up for more dolls#and at least their clothing my mom would get that stuff as gifts so ik i had a lot#plus i used some of the our generation stuff#which ik my niece has so i should see if she's still into them and would want the american girl outfits#but yeah did i NEED to add more books to my current rotation? no but they're easy reads#and when i'm done i'll be getting them out of the house so i'm helping bc my mom has been so desperately trying to get rid of stuff lol#truly could not believe how much stuff has truly just sat since our last garage sale which would've been WELL over a decade ago#i guess it was kinda thought anything that didn't sell we would try again but. did not.#OH and when i was looking up american girl stuff i was reminded of the girls of the world dolls and i had two of those#and i never would've remembered their existence otherwise kjsdkjfs there's been so much of that lately like#the amount of forgotten childhood stuff is wild
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◟𖥻 cabin confessions : percy jackson
▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader
y/n loves gushing about Percy to her siblings, Percy accidentally finds out about this and he's absolutely obsessed with it.
author: i'll never get tired of cabin ten reader x percy, probs will write more abt them because ugh i just love them, also mentions of marriage!!
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She sits on her bed, a brush in her hand as she gently runs it through the little girl's hair, her touch tender and soothing, pouring care into each stroke through the knots.
Her siblings sit in a circle around her on the floor, listening to her and hanging onto her every word as she recalls the time she was just friends with Percy.
"How come you two started dating?" Lacy asks, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
They already know how the story goes, they have heard about it at least twice now, but every time they look as interested on it as if it was their first time hearing about it.
"We were friends for a long time. I always thought that's all we would ever be." She starts, settling down the brush. "Percy was just... you know, Percy. All charming and brave and, well— completely clueless about my crush on him."
One of them giggles. "You had a crush on him first? wasn't he the one that asked you out?"
"Yes, he was, but it took him long enough to do it." she replies, smiling fondly at the memory as she starts to braid her sister's hair. "We kissed first, can you believe it? and even after that, Percy was still a nervous wreck when he asked me out. It was like he had forgotten how to talk and kept stumbling over his words, I honestly thought he was choking at some point."
The group erupts into laughter.
"And did you say yes right away?" Another sister pipes up, leaning forward with anticipation.
"I don't think he would've survived if I didn’t." She grins, her fingers working on the braid. "He was so sweet, he took me out for a picnic by the lake and he was honestly... just so perfect. I couldn't say no to him."
One of her brothers smirks, leaning back. "I would've made him work harder for it."
"He's worth it. He's always worth it." a chorus of 'awws' fill the room just as she's finished with her Lily's braid. "Okay, who's next?"
Lily grins at her and goes to sit down with the rest of the siblings, happy with her new braid, and the next sister in line takes her place on the bed while y/n grabs the brush again.
She knows they're not done with their questions. "And how did you two kiss for the first time?"
Beaming at the question, she tells the whole story again and again, going through the details while keeping everyone's hair knotless and braided.
Percy has always been amused by y/n's relationship with her siblings. Besides Tyson, he doesn't have anyone else to share a cabin with, so he doesn’t really get too many bonding opportunities as she does. She always tells him about the endless afternoons of talking, the movie nights, the blanket forts, and he can't help but feel just the tiniest bit of envy as he listens.
Right now, Tyson isn't even around because he's too busy to come back to camp this summer. So even if Percy's trying hard to respect his girlfriend's quality time with her siblings this afternoon, he ends up missing her too much.
Which leads him here, finally giving up on spending time by himself, he heads towards cabin 10, hoping y/n will let him crash her sleepover because he just needs to see her.
However, just when he's about to knock on the wooden door, he notices it's slightly cracked open. Laughter spills out, and he can even pick up her laugh among the others.
He doesn’t mean to pry, really, but it's not his fault that just when he's about to announce himself, he hears one of her little sisters asking. "And do you think you'll marry him?"
Percy stops right on his track, something just tells him they're talking about him. His suspicions only get confirmed when y/n is the one replying to the question. "Well, we're still young. But I can't picture myself marrying anyone else, you know?"
Gasps and excited chatter fill the room. Some of them beg for her to be flower girls at the wedding, while she tries, and fails, to get them to quiet down.
Percy's frozen in his spot. His heart skips a beat or two at her words. He leans against the doorframe, unable to stop the smile creeping across his face.
"Do you think he wants to marry you, too?" another one asks when the room finally falls silent again.
He does. Percy wants to make his presence known just to answer the question himself.
y/n chuckles softly "Well that's something that you'd have to ask him. But I sure hope so."
"You should propose to him instead." one suggests, they all break into a fit of giggles.
"Maybe I should. Do you reckon he'd like that?" She asks playfully.
Another sibling chimes in "He'd probably faint right on the spot."
Percy can't help himself anymore. Before he can think it through, his knuckles softly knock on the door. Everyone immediately falls silent, turning to look at the doorway, where he's shyly standing.
y/n's smile grows bigger once she looks up and finds him there. "Percy!"
"hope i'm not interrupting anything." he steps in, trying to keep his cool even though his heart is racing.
The Aphrodite kids exchange mischievous looks, some covering their mouths to hide their giggles. Lacy's the one to pipe up. "We were just talking about you!"
"Oh, really?" Percy has to act as if he didn’t know that already, raising his eyebrows as he glances at y/n, her cheeks are already tinted a pretty shade of pink. "Good things, I hope?"
"Of course" she recovers quickly, making some space for him to sit beside her on the bed. "What are you doing here?"
Percy carefully steps around the circle of Aphrodite kids on the floor and plops down beside her. "Just missed you." He replies simply, already reaching for her hand.
Her siblings immediately protest. "Don't distract her! it's her turn to braid."
She laughs, setting the brush down and instead taking Percy's hand, her delicate fingers lacing with his. "Don't worry, I'll still braid everyone's hair. Percy's just here to join the fun."
He chuckles, playfully shrugging. "I've always wanted to learn how to braid, I guess"
Her siblings break into laughter, and y/n rolls her eyes affectionately. That's how Percy ends up being instructed by a bunch of Aphrodite children on how to make a perfect braid while he listens to their chatter, laughing as they share stories with him.
Every now and then, y/n sneaks a glance at him, her eyes soft with affection and he remembers what he overheard. He will never forget it. But everytime she looks at him, he knows she wasn't lying just by the love he's able to see in her eyes.
Later, when everyone is happy with their braids and every story they could think about has been told, they start to drift away to their different sides of the cabin and Percy finds his perfect opportunity to mention what he overheard. He can't keep it to himself any longer.
"For the record." He starts, tugging her closer to him. "I can't picture myself marrying anyone else either."
Her breath catches and her face turns crimson. She immediately hides her face against his chest. "You weren't supposed to hear that!"
Percy laughs, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "Just let me take care of the proposal, yeah?"
She's utterly embarrased, but she finally laughs, swatting his chest lightly as she mumbles. "Deal"
They settle back into each other’s arms, the warmth of the moment lingering between them as they think about how lucky they are to have each other. Next time, when her siblings gather around her bed asking questions, she’ll have some news to share with them.
#percy jackson#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson fluff#fluff#pjo series#pjo#imagine#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson oneshot#one shot#percy jackson blurb#blurb#cabin ten#𐙚 mari's fics
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A HANDFUL OF MISCELLANEOUS PROMPTS * assorted dialogue most likely taken from taskmaster, adjust as necessary
i was so shit at that.
i don't know what the hell is going on.
you know i'm strong, so if i break this, that's on you.
i'm under a lot of stress.
are you going to explain yourself?
this isn't fair.
there's a peep hole.
what am i gonna do with that?
i wish that was a joke.
was it that bad?
have you tried it?
it could take a few months.
there's something inside this.
i'm good at this! i'm very good.
can you argue with me though?
you look fabulous.
do you chase people?
we'll come back to that later.
was that wrong?
i would have done it... if you'd done your fucking job.
say it. we're all adults here.
whisper it to me.
that's enough!
god, i almost believed you.
look at me!
listen, i don't care about that.
we are lovers.
where's the cheese grater?
live your truth. if you like it, you like it.
i don't feel good saying this.
would you like some dessert?
i didn't say it was going to be funny.
this is amazing.
the least i could do was rob him.
they're all pieces of shit.
i make this look good.
how do you make cereal? do you add the milk first, or add the cereal first?
how dare you.
this has been a weird week for me.
i dressed as spongebob to go to a party.
i find it religiously insensitive.
let's never speak of it again.
are you married?
maybe you and i could hang out sometime.
i didn't realize you had a degree.
can i play a saxophone? no.
there's a dignity in total failure.
you look happy.
i am happy any day that i'm with you.
i just feel like we've got so much in common.
what life choices brought you here?
we're creatures of habit, aren't we?
would you like some champagne?
so... i've set it on fire.
when i don't smile, people think i'm dead.
he needs to smile more.
that's my favorite bee gees song.
i'm in quite a lot of pain.
am i missing something?
here we are!
what's your favorite swear word?
not today, satan.
you're doing so well today!
this is where the magic doesn't happen.
smells nice in here!
nice to know i'll never find love.
i don't know if you can tell, but i feel quite lonely.
shall we hold hands?
neither of you noticed this woman lying on the floor?
it's in your pocket!
don't know what's going on... but then to be honest, i've not had a clue what's going on for most of this.
i don't mean to be rude.
do you feel any sense of shame?
#rp meme#mcflymemes#rp prompt#rp memes#roleplay memes#rp starters#roleplay prompt#ask meme#ask memes#roleplay meme#roleplay inbox prompts#rp inbox meme#inbox prompt#inbox meme#sentence starter prompt#sentence starter#sentence starters
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Look Back VS AI Art
This is a real frame from Look Back (2024).
You might assume this made it into the final movie because of its director Kiyotaka Oshiyama (押山清高) doing HALF the key animation for the film and only fully finishing it A WEEK before it's festival debut.
And well, you might be partially right about that. But more importantly, this is the movie embodying its themes through its unconventional production process and the very lines on the screen!
In an age of digital tools, CGI, AI, and other combinations of letters ending in I, Look Back is an ode to art and the labor that goes into it, no matter how tedious or imperfect.
Every thought, every little decision, every stroke made by a person puts a little piece of that person onto the screen, and the imperfections that come from that process can be beautiful in the sense that they're evidence of the thoughts and process that went into creating an image. So in keeping with the plot of the movie itself, Oshiyama made a point of leaving those remnants - lines that are scratchy, overlapping, or half-erased, and normally would have been cleaned up in 2nd key animation (第二原画).
Ayumu Fujino has a tight grip on how she expresses herself, having this image to uphold as the perfect prodigy girl. She's afraid to let people see too much of her, lest that perfect image be shattered.
But at times the mask does slip, like this moment of sheer panic after she accidentally drops what is really an extremely rude manga strip under her rival's door by accident.
And it's these moments when that rough imperfection shines through the most! So this breakdown of polish in the art functions simultaneously as both a connection to the human labor that went into creating it, AND an impressionistic representation of Fujino's mental state within the world of the movie.
Not only are the edges of her backpack visible through her arm, her face even disappears completely, replaced by just the roughly sketched dividing lines that indicate the position of her eyes. At least personally, I never would have noticed this fully unfinished frame at full speed because the shot is just so well-executed! The framing is dramatic with Fujino surrounded by these mountains of sketchbooks in the foreground, and the motion is so believable, her posture - hunched over to the side to support the weight of the bag while maneuvering around the books, and the way her legs twirl around each other frantically, rotating this way and that.
But more importantly, this is a frame that an AI program would never draw, because it has no REASON to. There's no thought process, no decisions being made about how to express a feeling. Even if you did train an AI specifically to mimic these human imperfections, in Oshiyama's words, "It would just be a design. It would be a fake. The lines have meaning because they were drawn by humans. […] There's value in that." (MANTANWEB)
This is an adapted excerpt from this video! Go watch it or I'll dox you.
youtube
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🇨 🇴 🇳 🇫 🇪 🇸 🇸 🇮 🇴 🇳 !
BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.
↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck
★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor
!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff
"i love you."
ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.
promptly replies with, "i love you too."
he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking
when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin
and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before
he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too
definitely asks for double suicide later
"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."
"Mhm."
"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.
"Dazai, you already said yes."
"I'll say it again!"
ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.
he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine
poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"
he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside
we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it
will decide to give it a shot tho
100% calls dazai to brag about it
"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"
You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.
"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."
ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.
"i know."
he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc
he's known about this since like soooo long
he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess
went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D
eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie
"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"
He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"
ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.
"eh???"
like chuuya, he's pretty confused too
"are you sure?"
tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster
he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up
also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?
reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world
"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.
"I'll try my best."
"You don't have to."
"But I want to!"
He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.
"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."
ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.
screams
"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"
jumps around everywhere in happiness
you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around
either that or he just faints
he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.
you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3
"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.
"Yes?"
"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"
ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.
no reaction. im sorry
spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work
you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????
will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??
he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work
and that's his way of saying yes
He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.
"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."
"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"
"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.
© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.
#bsd x reader#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#bsd scenarios#bsd hcs#bsd headcanons#dazai hcs#dazai x y/n#dazai x reader#chuuya imagines#chuuya x reader#fyodor hcs#fyodor x you#fyodor x reader#akutagawa hcs#akutagawa x reader#chuuya headcanons#dazai headcanons#dazai x you#fyodor imagines#atsushi hcs#atsushi nakajima#atsushi x reader#dazai bsd
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Thinking about (lovesick) Hiori Yo keeping a diary.
His parents have always been emotionally unavaible. For them, Hiori was nothing more nothing less than an experiment, the one destined to be what they've always wanted to be and yet never managed to acomplish: someone who wears the title of being "the best in the world".
He also didn't have much (if any) friends. All his time was dedicated to football practice, so the only people he talked to (aside from his parents) were his teammates. And they were nice, sure, but they were not his friends. They were more like acquaintances. The only one he could really call a friend was one of his teammates, Karasu Tabito, and even so he still didn't feel comfortable enough talking to him about the complex thoughts he had.
Because of that, he's never had anyone to talk with. No one to confide about his feelings and emotions. No one to talk about how he wanted to leave his home house (that place didn't feel like a home). How his parents fucked up his sanity. How he didn't really like football that much.
He couldn't keep all these things inside his head anymore. He needed to pour these feelings out. That's why he decided to start a diary.
Grabbing an old notebook and one of those common blue pens, he started writing. The diary was his most treasured possession. It stayed locked inside his bedside table, being away from all of the prying eyes.
Writing felt good. He wrote about his strained relationship with his parents. About soccer practices. About gaming tips. About pretty much everything.
His thoughts about many different themes were written there. That's why his journal didn't really have a specific theme.
Well, at least in the beggining it didn't have.
Because ever since a month or so, all the pages on his diary began to revolve around a girl. You.
He met you during a rather boring math class. The teacher was rambling on and on about algebrics or whatever, and time seemed to freeze because of how utterly shitty the endless class seemed.
"His explanation sucks, doesn't it?"
He heard a female voice coming from beside him. When he turned to the direction of the sound, he saw the prettiest girl he had ever met.
Her hair framed her face perfectly, it's color matching her eyes in the most beautiful way Yo had ever seen. The smile she had on her face seemed to shine, and Hiori found himself smiling back, too.
"Yeah" he sighed, then looked back at the teacher
"I just wish the old hag would shut up"
"I wish he would just shut up"
They spoke at the same time.
Looking at eachother, they both began to laugh. Hard. Clutching your stomach and tearing up kind of laugh. Snorting like a pig laugh. Wheezing. Hitting the table with your fist to try and stop with the loud laughing, but being phisically incapable of stopping.
"Hiori Yo and (Name) (Lastname). Do you want to share with the class what made you laugh so hard? I'm sure they want to laugh to."
"N-No, mister. We're sorry. We-We'll stop" you answered, still trying to stiffle your laugh
"Do not interrupt my class again, or else I'll send you both to the principal's office"
"Okay sir." Hiori answered, not believing a word the teacher said but still a little scared to have his parents find out he went to the principal's office
"Hiori Yo, huh?" You said "It suits you"
"Thank you, miss (Name) (Lastname)." Hiori smirked "Your name is very pretty. It also suits you"
"Oh, so you think I'm pretty?" You smirked, a mischevious and playful glint on your eyes.
"N-no!" Hiori blushed hard, averting your gaze. His accent got stronger like it always did when he became nervous, and he was quick to correct himself "I-I mean, yes! You're very pretty! B-but I didn't mean to say t-that. Not that you're not pretty! Is just that..."
He was interrupted by the sound of your laugh mixed with the bell signalizing the end of the school day. It's obnoxious sound was such a contrast from your sweet, honey-like melodic laugh.
"Don't worry, I was just teasing you!" You smiled at him, grabbing your backpack and getting up "Well, see you on the next advanced math period, mister Hiori Yo"
You then quickly left, leaving behind a red and speechless Hiori.
He has been obsessed in love with you ever since. He wanted to be with you all of the time, no exceptions. You were just so nice! It seemed like his problems disappeared when you were near. Life seemed brighter, and even his parents noticed the change in his behavior. He was more carefree, happier, lighter.
And never once did he forget to write in his diary. In fact, he wrote about you so much he decided to rip the pages about his parents and other things and make the journal solely based on you.
He wrote about the dates he wanted to go to with you. Wrote about how he wanted to hold hands with you, kiss you till you're both breathless, stargaze with you, game with you. Do basically everything with you.
He detailed how he wanted to confess to you: you would both be in a park, having a picnic, when he would suddenly pull a bouquet from his backpack and put his feelings on the table, making it clear he viewed you as more than a friend. And then you'd laugh and say you like him too, making fun of his strong accent and how much effect you had over him.
Not that he'd mind. As long as your attention was on him, you could humilliate him all you want. He was pathetic.
He even wrote about your wedding, the petunias he wanted to give you and how Hiori (Name) had such a nice ring to it.
He wrote everything in his diary. And that was his fatal flaw.
Because he also wrote about how he wanted to spend his practice time with you. How he wanted to give up on soccer and move in with you to a house on the countryside, just you and him. How he sometimes skipped practices just to go out with you.
"Mom? Dad?"
He would never have thought that, one day, he would forget to lock the diary up. And who would've guessed it would fall in the hands of his parents, who have no idea of privacy.
"Yo, we need to talk about this"
When Hiori saw the notebook in his dad's hand, he swallowed dry. He felt like crying just by imagining what they wanted to discuss about.
Maybe they didn't read it. Yeah, maybe they still respected their son, at least a little bit.
"W-what? How did you..."
"It was on your bed." His mom answered, a stern expression on her face "me and your father came to an agreement after reading it, and..."
"You read it?!" Hiori was furious and sad at the same time. Not surprised, no. He knew they would've done this. "You can't do this! My personal thoughts are in there! It's my diary! You're invading my privacy!"
"Bullshit. Teenagers do not have nor need privacy" his father cut him off "Whatever. What matters is that we read about that (Name) girl. And we've decided..."
No. He can say anything but what he thinks they're bout to say. He can't handle that.
"We don't want you around that girl anymore. She's getting in the way of your football practices. That's why...
We're moving you to a different school."
No...
No.
NO!
"No she's not!" Hiori screamed, pleaded. He wished that for once his parents would listen to him, think about his feelings at least one time. "I love her! I swear I'll do double the practice! Just, please. Please don't do this" his voice was wavering. He was weak. "Please don't keep her away from me. Please."
"We do this cause we know what's best for you. We're your parents. We know you better than yourself." His mom tried to reason.
"No you don't!" Hiori screamed "She's the best thing that has ever happened to me! You can't do this to me! You can't decide these things in my behalf!"
"We're your parents. We can and we did. End of discussion." His dad gritted out, not an ounce of empathy in his face. "And we also decided you're not keeping a diary anymore. We don't want you hiding things from us."
With a swift move, he threw the notebook inside the fireplace.
"NO!" Hiori screamed, running to collect the ashes and try to save the diary, but it was already too late.
In his knees in front of the fire, Hiori cried. The flames were dancing around as if mocking his sadness, laughing at his disgrace.
He stayed there for so long he lost track of time. His parents were no longer in the room, deciding to finally give their son space. But he didn't want space.
He wanted you.
He stayed motionless until the last flame was unstinguished. And when it finally was, so was his hope for a better future. A future without his parents playing with the strings of his life all the time, treating him like a puppet. A future with no pain.
A future with you.
And so, a single page that survived flew and fell in front of him.
He picked it up.
Dear diary,
I think I can make up with my parents. I didn't told her about the whole situation since I don't want to burden her, but from what she heard, (Name) said we just need to talk. And maybe she's right. Maybe they'll like her just as much as I do, and we can be a big happy family. She makes me feel like everything is possible. I'm sure I love her, and I want to spend all my time by her side...
He couldn't read it anymore.
With a scream, Hiori tore the page apart.
~A/N: Sorry anon, idk how to write angst ☹️
Masterlist
#blue lock x reader#blue lock#yandere blue lock#hiori yo.#hiori x reader#bllk hiori#hiori yo#blue lock hiori#hiori yo x reader#bllk angst#blue lock angst#reader angst#bllk manga#bllk x reader#bllk x you
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into the arms of another part three | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x reader
part one part two masterlist tips
yourusername
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tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: working up a storm and flirting up a frenzy
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user3: SHE'S BACK
user4: that month she was gone was dragging
user5: i almost forget she has a job lol there's always so much drama i forgot girly was getting the bag
danielricciardo: oh what a lovely picture of you two being gross at dinner i wonder who took it
yourusername: it's this lovely gentleman, i'll have to introduce you. he's quite loud, very charming and should consider going into theatre with his vocal projection
danielricciardo: you think i'm ready for the stage?
maxverstappen1: i think we all think you're ready for the stage
user6: wait so do you think daniel, heidi, y/n and max go on double dates? that's so cute
user7: sometimes i hurt myself by thinking it could've been a triple date if charles wasn't such as ass
maxverstappen1: when she's a triple threat 😍
yourusername: but i can't sing, dance or act?
maxverstappen1: but you are smart, beautiful and can put up with me :)
yourusername: you act like being with you is a chore maxy :( i'd spend all my waking moments with you if i could
landonorris: i'm sending these ^^ comments to my therapist, you guys make me feel so lonely
maxverstappen1: sorry dude
yourusername: lando !! let us play matchmaker ??
landonorris: i'll let you play matchmaker just don't let max have too much input
maxverstappen1: why not i clearly have good taste?
user8: anyone else wondering whether y/n and charles actually spoke after he was seen outside her building?
user9: i was thinking about that too ... i'm guessing they either didn't or it didn't go well by the fact that he's no where to be seen here
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1: new weekend, new helmet. this one was designed by the love of my life who put her architecture degree to good use to make me this beautiful lid. love you y/n hope to bring you a trophy back in return 🧡
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user13: max being the resident grid sweetheart was not on my 2023 bingo card
yourusername: no worries max, it was an absolute honour to design a helmet for you.
maxverstappen1: it's an honour to wear something designed by you
yourusername: call me the adrian newey of helmet design
maxverstappen1: that's a big shout, that i'm inclined to believe
redbullracing: adrian gives his stamp of approval y/n !
user14: i swear in an older charles vlog y/n spoke about how she always wanted to design a helmet for him :( i'm glad she finally got to do it
user15: no shade but at least this helmet might actually win the race lol
danielricciardo: cute lid, is y/n open for commission?
maxverstappen1: nope she's mine and mine only (unless you're paying)
yourusername: what he said
user16: i just know charles is screaming, crying and throwing up rn
user17: probably not, people stop being friends all the time, he's got more than one friend and is a millionaire, he's living his best life
user16: his track record says otherwise, he's extremely petty, he probably can't handle that max and y/n don't care about him anymore
user18: tbf from what we saw charles was looking to reconcile, it's more y/n who has been unreasonable
user19: i think she's well within her rights to refuse forgiveness and from reports charles never apologised, this has been a pattern of behaviour for years now. she deserved better, she's now got better
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user20: i love that max likes all the shady comments about the situation cause i know y/n would never
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc: always make time for your real friends.
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user21: if there's one thing men will have, it's the audacity
user22: well this is an interesting response
user23: are we meant to clap?
arthurleclerc: what happened to the plan?
charles_leclerc: than plan failed in the minute she closed the door in my face
arthurleclerc: call me, but also stop making excuses
user24: yes it is logical to do this offline arthur, but consider this, i want to read the drama
user25: but at this point how is it drama? it's just charles being stubborn. y/n gave him a full explanation and by the look of it he didn't do a very good job with it
user26: the thing is i honestly believe that however bad the apology would be y/n would still forgive him. they've been friends for so long i think she honestly wants it to work out but shit like this does not help his case
carlossainz55: mate i am so confused
charles_leclerc: what's so confusing? she can say that this has led to her finding "the real thing" but i can't?
carlossainz55: but if you wanted to reconcile, you look like an asshole
charles_leclerc: fine, make me the bad guy like everyone else
user27: charles is really in his whiny boy era lord
user28: all i know is that y/n and max are probably at home having the laugh of their lives
f1wagsupdates
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f1wagupdates: y/n y/ln was in the red bull garage this weekend with verstappen's family. max won this race wearing the helmet she designed for him.
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user31: they are the cutest couple on the grid, perhaps of all time
user32: they're defo on the way to that, if they get married could defo grab best couple of all time
user33: the way she still stopped at ferrari to talk to arthur and wish him and charles luck ... clearly there's a bigger person here
user34: y/n is already so close to the verstappens, her and sophie and victoria were together all weekend.
user35: my friend had a paddock pass and overheard sophie asking y/n when she'll be giving her more grandkids
user36: OMG WHAT? what did y/n say?
user35: that she'd have to be mrs. verstappen first
user37: do not play with me right now if we get the charles and y/n friend breakup and y/n and max engagement all in one season my brain may explode
user38: if max weren't winning every race anyway i'd defo say that this is the lucky helmet
user39: i mean grand slams aren't that common, so maybe it is
user40: max win and charles disasterclass, the best weekend possible for y/n
user41: i don't think she actually wants charles to do badly though, she wouldn't have wished him luck..
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1: i've won a lot of races this year but my biggest win of all was your heart. here's to forever together ❤️
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user42: i think i just saw charles drop to his knees in monaco
user43: i mean they can still be friends? there was never any romantic feelings he's just being weird about being in the wrong and it being max
danielricciardo: i'm so so happy for you guys, you deserve this so much. all the happiness to you, i shall assume my position as best man effective immediately
maxverstappen1: bit forward to assume that you're best man mate
danielricciardo: wait, i'm not best man ?
maxverstappen1: i joke, you are, of course, the best man and i can't think of a better man for the job
yourusername: just don't go too crazy with the stag night, i've heard about your nights out back in the day (seen the videos too)
danielricciardo: i don't know what you're talking about, we'll have a boys night in, a round of uno and he'll be ready at the altar right on time
user44: why am i actually so happy for people i don't even know
yourusername: i can't think of a better way to spend the rest of my life, red bull drive babysitter and cat mama
maxverstappen1: i think jimmy and sassy might just be as excited as me (maybe)
yourusername: i know i can tell by all the holes in my shoes
maxverstappen1: we all have our ways of showing love, some bites holes in shoes, some like to follow you everywhere
landonorris: the way max could be either one
maxverstappen1: ummm i'm trying to be romantic stop accusing me of biting my fiancee's shoes
yourusername: don't worry maxy, i'd still marry you even if you bite my shoes
user45: this is an amazing thing and not to bring the mood down, but do we think y/n will invite charles to the wedding?
user46: max could as well, they are friends, even if charles is trying to use their rivalry as a 'reason' to be angry at this relationship
yourusername
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yourusername: i am lost for words. i never knew i could love someone as much as i love you, and it is my biggest honour to spend the rest of my life with you.
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user47: she has really won at life i'm so happy for her
user48: who knew being ditched in corsica would be so good for a girl
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maxverstappen1: i love you more than you could ever know, couldn't think of a better mrs. verstappen-y/ln
yourusername: i can't wait to have matching last names
user49: wait is max also going to take y/n's name?
maxverstappen1: yep and couldn't be prouder to have her name
yourusername: awww maxy i love you
user50: so... did charles get an invite?
charles_leclerc: no. so much for moving forward.
yourusername: i won't let you ruin this announcement for me. let the postal service do their job. please get your shit together before you rsvp or fuck off, i have no problem burning that invite.
user51: oof.
landonorris: congrats guys, do me and daniel get a prize for listening to the years of pining that led to this
yourusername: you can get a gold star?
landonorris: make it solid gold and done.
yourusername: girl.
maxverstappen1: if red bull ask whether we drank on this getaway say no
yourusername: we defo didn't spray champagne like we were on a podium and then eat our weight in pasta
maxverstappen1: i had to celebrate my girl :)
note: hiiiii, i know this was highly, highly requested and i hope this has met expectations. i've had real bad writers block and some shit going on in my personal life, so i'm not the happiest with this but could see another part if i get enough ideas lol. thanks for reading <3
#f1#f1 x you#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen instagram au#max verstappen
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sensational
6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two
this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!
summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)
You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.
You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.
It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.
The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.
"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"
Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.
"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."
It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.
The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.
If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.
It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.
Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.
It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.
"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.
All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."
Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.
Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.
And this worked. Until it didn't.
-- -- --
It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.
More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.
Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.
His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.
You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.
"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"
You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"
Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"
The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.
When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.
Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.
Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"
He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"
"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."
His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"
Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."
He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."
"A rise?"
Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."
"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"
"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.
There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."
He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.
Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.
So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?
"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.
"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.
"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"
"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.
He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.
You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."
"I know."
Again, the silence. Infuriating.
Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"
Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.
The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.
Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."
He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."
The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.
When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.
"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.
He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."
"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.
He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.
"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."
"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."
You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"
He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."
-- -- --
Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.
That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.
He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.
The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.
Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"
"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."
This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.
The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.
But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.
He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.
But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.
He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.
-- -- --
"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.
"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.
One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.
And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.
You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.
Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.
"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."
The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.
"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.
I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.
He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.
As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:
"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."
It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.
"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."
He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.
"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."
Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."
Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"
If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.
The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"
"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.
He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."
"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."
Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."
"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."
He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"
Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."
Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."
By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.
When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.
He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."
"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."
"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.
Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.
"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."
The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."
"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"
He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."
Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.
"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.
You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"
-- -- --
If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.
If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.
"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"
-- -- --
You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."
He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."
He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.
Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.
"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.
But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.
You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."
He sighed. "You're right."
"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.
He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.
And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.
He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...
You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.
With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.
"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."
You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."
He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"
"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."
His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.
"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."
"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...
"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.
You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.
There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."
Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"
You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."
-- -- --
The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.
Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.
It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.
Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.
Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?
Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.
"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"
"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"
It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.
Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.
He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."
Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.
Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.
With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.
"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.
"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"
He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.
"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.
"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"
He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."
"Which is?"
Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.
It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.
"Joel—"
"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."
"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.
"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."
When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"
He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.
The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.
"Joel—"
"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"
You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.
Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.
"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.
You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.
If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.
Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.
Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.
"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.
Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.
You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"
"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."
Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."
You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—
Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.
"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."
His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.
"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"
Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.
Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.
"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."
tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!
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Getting Revenge (Hirai Momo x M!Reader)
Don't ask (I'm sorry) Word Count: 2166
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I was walking through the hallways before I suddenly got shoved into a wall.
"Hey Y/N so any updates on the group assignment?"
I groaned when I realized that it was Momo.
Momo was very popular. When I got assigned to be with her for the group project I was a little excited until I found out Momo didn't have any intention of actually doing any work.
Now I'm pulling her dead weight which isn't easy since I still have major projects from my other classes that I have to do.
"Yeah I'm almost done with it."
"Good anyways see you later Y/N." Momo said as she continued walking down the hallway.
Momo is every teachers favorite student. No one would believe me if I told them she wasn't pulling her weight and since I don't want to fail this assignment then I have no choice but to do it all on my own.
I swear if I ever get a chance to screw her over I will.
I went back to my dorm and saw that my roommate Kim Chaewon was already there.
Chaewon looked up from her laptop and looked at me "Hey Y/N how were classes today."
"You know the same." I said as I sat down next to her on the couch.
"Is that Momo girl still not doing her part of the assignment?"
"Yeah and I'm gonna have to stay up all night doing her part."
"That sucks Y/N. I would help if I could but I have my own class work to do."
I pulled out my laptop and started working on the assignment. Me and Chaewon worked next to each other in silence until she spoke up.
"Before I forget Y/N I invited my friend Yeji over so we can do some karaoke. Is that gonna be a problem?"
Yeji and Chaewon can get pretty loud when they do karaoke. And Chaewon knows that I am going to stay up all night doing work so she's probably asking cause she doesn't want to disturb me. But I didn't want to ruin Chaewons day as she doesn't have much free time and this was likely the only time she could hangout with one of her friends at least until exams ended.
I guess I can suck it up for one night.
"No problem Chaewon but can you try to keep it down this time."
"No promises." Chaewon said before she went back to doing her work.
"I shouldn't be up at this hour." I said as I looked at the clock and saw it was 1:30am.
I tried focusing on my work but I couldn't due to how loud Chaewon and Yeji were.
I texted my friend Haewon if I could stay in her dorm for the night and she quickly replied that I could.
I grabbed my stuff and made my way to her dorm but on my way I heard something coming from the floor below.
"Fuck I'm stuck."
The voice sounded familiar but I couldn't tell who it was because it was so quiet. I'm not sure why someone would be downstairs because the college is doing renovations down there so students shouldn't be their to begin with.
Just in case someone actually needs help I made my way downstairs and saw a bunch of incomplete walls and it looked like someone was stuck.
It was dark so I walked closer to see who it was.
"Wait is there someone there? ... YES I'm stuck can you pull me out!"
I paused as I realized I recognized that voice.
"Momo?"
"Oh great the last person I wanted to see, honestly I'd rather be stuck here until someone else arrives than be helped by you."
"Momo what are you doing here? Students aren't supposed to be down here."
"Well I got curious about what was down here and I tripped. Now I'm stuck in this wall. Happy now Y/N? Now if you can just pull me out we can both act like nothing happened."
I walked in front of Momo and we could barely see each other's faces because of how dark it was.
"I thought you said you'd rather be stuck than have me help you."
"Look Y/N I'm known as a popular student. If a teacher finds me it'll be embarrassing and if another student finds me they'll definitely take pictures and ruin my reputation. So how about you help me out here."
"Help you? Why would I do that if you have never made an effort to help me?"
"Ugh you're so needy. Fine I'll do anything you want if you help me get out of this wall except school work."
I pondered for a moment if I should help out Momo. I mean taking a picture of her stuck in a wall and spreading it to others would ruin her reputation. But on the other hand...
"I'll take that deal."
"Thanks Y/N now just get me out of here and I'll hold up my end of the deal." Momo said desperate to get out of the wall.
"I think you can hold your end of the deal just fine in the wall." I said as I started to pull my pants down.
"Wh-what are you doing." Momo said sounding both shocked and nervous.
"Momo as much as I hate you I can't lie. I find you extremely attractive. So I think I'll pleasure myself with you."
Even though I could barely see Momos face I could tell she was slightly blushing.
"Well ... Fine just know I'm only agreeing because I want to get out of here not because I have any feelings for you."
I pulled my pants all the way down and my cock sprung out. I started smacking it on Momos face which eventually made her groan.
"Y/N stop teasing me."
I decided to listen to her and shoved my cock deep inside her mouth.
Momo was trying to say something but it was muffled. I started to quickly thrust in and out of Momos mouth. I felt extreme pleasure from Momo. I shoved my cock as deep as I could inside Momos mouth and she started gagging. Her throat felt insanely good I didn't want to pull out.
Tears fell down Momos cheek and she tried to push me away but I kept my cock in her mouth.
Eventually I did pull out and Momo started gasping for air. I was more focused on how drenched my cock was. It was completely covered in her spit. I couldn't believe I got the most popular girl in school to choke on my cock.
I got on my knees so I could have my face on the same level as Momos and I started to kiss her.
Momo kissed me back and we started to make out. I slid my tongue into her mouth and our tongues started to fight. I won and the tongue war and started to kiss Momo more roughly.
Momo reached down and started to pump my cock and I moaned into Momos mouth.
My cock started twitching and I knew I was about to cum. I stopped kissing Momo and she looked at me confused.
"Y/N why did you stop? Was I not a good enough kisser?"
"Momo are you on birth control?"
"Yeah wh-" Momo cut herself off as she quickly realized what I wanted to do.
I went to the other side of the wall and pulled her jeans down. When I saw her big ass and her pink panties my cock got hard instantly, and I put my hands on Momos ass and started touching every inch of it.
"Fuck Y/N just do it."
"Well that isn't as fun Momo."
I started to lick Momos ass while rubbing her covered pussy.
"Y/N I fucking swear-"
"Fine since you're so impatient I guess I'll get on with it then Momo."
I decided to get on with it and took her panties off and aligned my cock with her pussy.
"Y/N this is my first time being penetrated by a cock." Momo said in an uneasy tone.
"First time by a cock? Has someone shoved something else in you?"
"Well ... My roommate Sana and I have had lesbian sex every now and then and she has shoved her fingers deep in me before."
I was a little surprised to hear Momo has had lesbian sex before. I thought if someone would be the one to have sex with her first it would be one of the popular boys in college like Lee Felix or Jeon Jungkook.
"So I'm your first guy?" I said as I started to slide my cock into Momos warm pussy.
"Ah ~ yes Y/N your cock is the first cock to enter my pussy."
Hearing Momo moans made me go crazy and it made me want to go rough on her. I started I increase my speed and the sounds of me slamming into Momo could probably be heard from the floor above us.
Momos pussy hugged my cock so tightly it felt like it cut off the blood flow to it. I struggled to even move my cock in her. I smacked Momos ass and left my hand print on it.
"How about you shake that ass for me Momo?"
Momo started to shake her ass and I couldn't help but to continue smacking her ass. Seeing her ass jiggle and get redder every time I smacked it was something I couldn't get enough of and I kept going until Momos ass went fully red.
I ended up cumming into Momo. I filled Momo with a big thick load of cum it almost leaked out of her pussy. I grabbed my cum and put it back into her pussy so it didn't go to waste.
I went back to the side Momos head was and saw that she was covering her mouth.
"Why are you covering your mouth?"
"I didn't want people to hear me."
"Why not I think everyone should hear your pretty moans."
"Don't say that Y/N." Momo looked away from me as she said that.
"So are you gonna get me out now?"
"How about you give me a boob job first."
"Make it quick."
I swiftly took Momos shirt off and saw how tightly her bra was squeezing her tits.
"How about we set these free Momo?" I said as I started playing with her tits with my hands.
"Mhm yes Y/N please take my bra off for me."
I unhooked Momos bra and shoved my face between her breasts. They felt extremely soft and I started to lick them. They tasted like heaven I couldn't get enough of them.
Momo tried to cover her mouth again but I grabbed her wrists to stop her.
"Let me hear your pretty voice Momo. Most people are sleeping at this hour so don't bother covering your moans."
"Agh ~ Y/N keep licking them."
I went back to licking Momos boobs and squeezed them. I pinched Momos nipples and she yelped.
"Y/N that hurts!"
I eventually pulled my face away and started to put my cock in between her soft boobs.
I grabbed both of her tits and squeezed them on my cock. I moaned from the pleasure I felt and started moving her tits up and down on my cock.
I kept going but I felt like I was about to cum. I didn't want to cum on her boobs as it would definitely spill onto the floor.
Momo how about we get you out of here and into my room?
"That'd be great Y/N let's go."
I dressed Momo back up and then helped push Momo free. Afterwards I led her to my dorm room where I was still able to hear Yeji and Chaewon going hard with their karaoke.
I led Momo to my room and we went back to kissing each other. We helped each other take our clothes off and went back to fucking each other.
We did a few more rounds with each other making each other cum.
Out of nowhere Chaewon barged through the door
"Hey Y/N wanna join- WHAT THE FUCK?"
Me and Momo looked at Chaewon and we felt embarrassed. I guess we were so focused on each other that we didn't notice they stopped singing there karaoke.
"I can explain-" but before I could mutter another word Yeji suddenly came into the room also.
"Chaewon what's wrong ... WAIT WHY IS MOMO BEING FUCKED BY YOUR ROOMMATE?!"
Both Yeji and Chaewon started screaming at me. I wasn't able to make out what they were saying but suddenly Haewon entered the room.
"Y/N you never came to my dorm are you-"
Haewon looked at me and Momo on the bed naked, then looked at Yeji and Chaewon before speaking.
"Am I interrupting something important?"
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Stay tuned for part 2 where they all fuck each other (I won't post a part 2)
I was gonna originally name it "Getting revenge on my bully stuck in a wall" But that's just way too long and I didn't end up leaning into the whole "Momo being a bully" thing as much.
#twice smut#momo smut#kpop smut#fanfic#girl group smut#twice ff#twice imagines#twice#twice x reader#yeji#haewon#smut#chaewon
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Hey Bonny!! I saw you wanted to play a game, so how does this sound for a drabble? Dragon! Yoongi (or Kookie since I know he's your guy) x Fairy! Reader?? Idk if you've written fairies before, but I know you've done dragons! 💜🤍
I have a dragon kook x fairy reader on my patreon as early access, so I'll make this one yoongi!
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Yoongi
Hidden in the woods
Dragons are rather social creatures- but when a young Dragonblood named Yoongi fails to find a partner while all his friends and family have moved way past those events already, he isolates himself, believing he might just be destined to be a loner. But maybe, he was just impatient.
Tags/Warnings: Dragon hybrid!Yoongi, Fairy!Reader, strangers to ???, reader is described as short oops, SFW
Wordcount: 1.6k (it was supposed to be a Drabble... oops)
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
“You rarely visit these days.”
His mothers words still echo in his mind as he tries to find a new composition on his piano that doesn’t sound like everything he’s already put out. Of course he hasn’t visited- with his brother’s twins constantly around, he’s always reminded of how far ahead everyone around him is, while he’s yet to find his first real love. He’s thirty, for god’s sake- and yet all he has is his house, a stable career as a musician, and a lot on his mind.
All his friends are married. Some have kids, others are busy preparing for the day they’ll have them. He feels out of place.
Yoongi has made peace with the fact that he’ll be the uncle to all of them, the one guy who never really seems to be happy about anything, never has a family of his own. It’s alright.
He sighs, loudly, gripping his hair for a second in frustration. This is stupid- why is he having an artist’s block right now of all times? People are waiting for something new, especially after he’s already taken a break to help his creativity. And yet, it did nothing- except for giving him a little bit more room to breathe and most of all move out of his apartment and into his new house near the woods. It’s nice here- about half an hour away from the bustling neon city he’s used to after years of living there, and also a bit more distance from his family and friends. A newfound excuse for when they ask him once more where he’s been.
The doorbell rings, attracting his attention. He’s not awaiting any guests or packages- who could it be?
Via the camera installed he can see that there’s a person he doesn’t know at the door- you're rather short, but visibly curious, looking around for any signs of life inside his home, and for a short moment, he sees them;
Delicate little slightly translucent wings. Pointy ears, tilted a bit downwards.
A fairy.
As he opens the door, you seem startled for a second or two, taking a step back, before you speak. “Oh, hello!” You greet him. “I was just about to ask- do you have uh.. Jungkook’s number?” You wonder, and he becomes hostile, crossing his arms. “A coworker of mine, Jimin, said you have it. I’m sorry I’m just, you know, showing up here like that-”
The door closes. But despite what he was expecting, you just ring the doorbell again- and again, until he opens.
“Okay, as I was trying to explain before you so rudely interrupted me-” You tease a little, arms now crossed as well as your wings flap around a bit. “-tell him at least that I need his help fixing my washing machine. He broke it and left the crime scene for me to find, and that’s, pardon my language-” You lean in a bit as if you’re about to tell Yoongi something secret, “-pretty crappy behavior.”
Yoongi stares you down for a moment, before he speaks.
“That’s it?” He asks, and you nod. “Why don’t you ask Jimin for Jungkook’s number?” He wonders, not entirely convinced. Jungkook is pretty much a magnet for people no matter what gender, and the worst part about it is that many if not most always try and get to him through Yoongi.
No one’s ever interested in him. Only his friends, or the things he can provide.
“Cause Jimin doesn’t have it either!” You whine, stomping your leg on the ground in agony. “Listen, I don’t know how to fix it and my bathroom smells like a laundromat already, my coffee machine is also broken and my script has been rejected for the third time, I really need some good news. Please?” You ask, and Yoongi contemplates.
“What if I fix it?” He asks, and your eyes begin to sparkle, wings lifting to flutter in excitement. It’s like in this very moment, he can hear the keys of his piano chime, creating a new piece in his mind.
“You can?!” You ask, stepping closer.
“Probably. Where do you even live?” He asks, before you point towards the woods.
“I live in the woods, pretty much. It’s not that far.” You say, and Yoongi sighs, looking back inside his house. It’s not like he’s going to get anything done either way, so who cares? It might take his mind off of things for a moment or two-
So a few hours later, he’s in your house, enjoying some hot coffee from your machine, which he’d fixed as well while he was at it. Well, fixed is a strong word- he pretty much just explained how it properly worked to you. It was working just fine- you just lost the manual and couldn’t figure it out on your own.
“I always thought dragons were scarier.” You say suddenly, opening a pack of cookies to put in the middle of your wooden coffee table. “You’re really nice. Tall, and a bit gloomy looking, but very nice.” You say, sitting down on the couch next to him, legs pulled up towards you.
He’s noticed something glittering all over the small house- like sparkling glitter, but much finer, and barely noticeable. Looking closer to his pants, he notices it there as well- and even after a brush with his hand, it sticks to his fingers now.
“Oh- I’m sorry! It keeps getting everywhere, especially now.. Wait- I have like, a plastic thing-” You hurry, getting up to search for something in a drawer close by your TV. “Ah, there!” You say, giving him the lint-roller. “It’s one designed for fairy dust. I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about that..” You say, but for some odd reason, he declines.
“It’s fine.” He denies. “Doesn’t bother me.” he tells you, and again, you look at him like he’s just told you the earth is flat after all.
but it truly doesn’t bother him. It would, technically, if he was anywhere else. But right now, in this moment, he couldn’t be any more indifferent towards the ‘mess’ you leave sticking to his clothes and skin.
As soon as he’s back home, the sight of your sparkling smile is still in his mind, as his feet almost automatically move towards his piano, where he sits down, and presses a record button to play something new. The melody has been stuck on repeat in his head the entire way back home through the thick snow, like his imagination was finally finding color again.
But it’s different from what he usually creates.
This piece is playful almost, intriguing. It’s a little hesitant, like someone holding back a thought itself just to not indulge too much in a fantasy they’re already creating in their mind. Fluttering notes interrupt these parts however, sneaking in with excitement and curiosity, trying their best to convince the player to let themselves go.
And Yoongi does, as he finishes the piece, and leans back in his chair, recording finished before his phone chimes with a message.
“You left your scarf at my place!” Is what you tell him.
“I’ll get it tomorrow.” He texts you back.
“I could make us dinner?” You question.
He contemplates, finger hovering over the virtual keyboard of his phone, before he begins to write his answer. Fluttering touches of his fingers moving with a hint of excitement, fine fairy dust on the skin of his hands shimmering in the setting sun dipping everything in a golden glow.
“I’d love that.”
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#yoongi imagine#min yoongi imagines#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagines#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi imagine
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꒰ dealer!chris sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons ( 2 ) !
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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊
꒰ SFW! ꒱
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ offer to take bambi home on the first night they ever met — you're skeptical though, because you still live with your parents, and chris wasn't exactly well . . . the type you bring home to mom and dad.
"aw c'mon, can't drop ya off at home? why's that?"
"um...i'm not sure how my parents are gonna react cause y'know...just park down the street!"
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ sneak through your window all the time, mostly at night after he's gone a deal and wants to just chill with you.
"chris! can you at least text me to let me know you're coming?!"
"s'cute seein' you all scared when i come up, though."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ call you bambi alot when you first start talking, because he enjoys seeing how easily flustered you get from the nickname. he loves the way you clench your thighs and look away with a shy smile.
"hey bambi, don't get all shy on me, sweetheart."
"sorry..."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ get scared and confused when bambi randomly begins to cry or tear up — he's not used to you showing so much emotion all the time, so he's actively always wondering if he's done something wrong and figuring out a way to calm you down.
"fuck, why are you cryin'? did i say somethin' wrong? did i do somethin'? talk to me, kid."
"it's just the picture of you and matt...you guys looked so cute when you were younger!"
"for fucks sake, bambi..."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ immediately make it known that he's not all for putting labels on anything — you're a little intimidated by him and what he does anyone, so you're thankful for it at first.
"i know we're like fuckin' and whatnot but...y'know i'm not ready to uh, call you my girlfriend or anythin' like that..."
"no i understand! it's cool..."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ be very hesitant to take bambi on deals with him — he doesn't want to risk your safety, especially this early into you guys'. . .situationship ( ? )
"please, chris? i swear i can help! i'll get whatever bag you need me to get, while you count the money-"
"kid, you don't even know what half this shit is."
"i wanna go with you, now!"
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ buy bambi small gifts to start off, because he's not exactly sure about what kind of things you like yet.
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ ask matt small details about bambi so he could get a feel of how to act around you and what things he should start doing for you — matt knew immediately he was already becoming down bad for you.
"so like uh, what kind of shit is bambi into, bro? like, does she fuck with movies and shit, or what?"
"don't you think that's the kind of thing you should be askin' her yourself?"
꒰ NSFW! ꒱
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ never do anything bambi would be uncomfortable with doing — believe it or not, you were a virgin when you met him.
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ in the beginning, bambi was only comfortable with doing over the clothes things — he'd let you grind on his thigh until you came,
"s'good baby, all fucked out on my thigh...come on angel, cum for me..."
✦ or he would use your vibrator on you, watching you squirm around in his lap when he turned it up and watched your toes curl at the sensation.
"oh fuck chris, please..."
"doin' so good mama, that feel good, huh?"
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ take it easy with bambi once you tell him you want to try oral sex with him now — which leads to the very first time he's ever eaten you out, at a frat party upstairs,
"wan' hear all those pretty noises when i eat it, hear me?"
✦ and the first time you ever gave him head, whilst your parents were asleep and he came to spend the night at your house.
"f-fuck, jus' like that pretty girl, takin' my cock so well..."
dealer!chris would . . .
✦ be gentle with bambi when you decide you want your first time to be with him — he's constantly reassuring you, and he decides to ease you into it with missionary because you deserved something intimate and special.
( it was also the first time chris realized he might be in love with you. )
( lilly's corner 💌 )
dealer!chris & bambi!reader are literally the cutest things ever when they first met, since technically they were still teenagers😕😕. i hope you guys enjoyed these! send in some prompts in my inbox for early dealer!chris & bambi!reader! love you all so much. 💌
@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world
@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns
@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21
@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @angvlarabella @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s
@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons
@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#dealer!chris#dealer! chris sturniolo#dealer chris#chris sturniolo angst#the sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo headcanon#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#christopher owen sturniolo#christopher sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo fandom#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets imagine#sturniolo triplets imagines#sturniolo triplets smut#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo x reader#sturniolos#sturniolotriplets
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Texas Orange
SUMMARY: Heavily based on the song "Tennesse Orange" by Megan Moroney. You're in the early stages of your relationship with Glen and he takes you to a Texas football game with him.
**This was my first time writing about Glen himself and not one of his characters. I really loved the idea and the song that inspired this fic, however think I may stick to writing his characters instead of him as a person in the future. **
WARNINGS: None
WORD COUNT: 5.4k
The Texas sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape as you and Glen drive through the winding roads of Austin. The truck hums steadily beneath you, the air conditioning a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside.
You glance over at Glen, dressed in a black t-shirt with the orange Texas Longhorns symbol emblazoned on the chest, and a white Longhorns baseball cap turned backward on his head. His sunglasses shield his eyes from the bright light, and with one hand on the wheel, he holds your hand gently in the other. You glance over at him, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile when he catches you looking at him.
"This is amazing," you say, taking in the sprawling hills and the way the cityscape rises in the distance. "I can't believe I've never been here before."
Glen chuckles, his voice low and smooth, the kind of sound that makes you feel instantly at ease. "I still can't believe that. Austin's pretty great. But, I mean, you grew up on the coast, right? Plenty of beauty there too."
You nod, your mind flashing back to memories of ocean breezes and sandy beaches, a world away from the vast, open skies of Texas. "Yeah, but it's different. I've never seen anything quite like this."
He grins, squeezing your hand gently. "You're gonna love it here. Plus, this is only the start. Wait till you see the stadium-it's a whole other world."
You laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves bubble up inside you. "Speaking of the stadium, I've got to admit something. I've never actually been to a football game before. My family wasn't really into sports growing up."
Glen's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he quickly recovers with a teasing grin. "You've never been to a game? Well, that changes today. Texas football is like a religion around here. It's something you just have to experience.
"Hopefully I'll fit in okay," you say, half-joking. The thought of stepping into the massive stadium, surrounded by thousands of passionate fans, is both thrilling and a little daunting.
He chuckles, his voice warm with affection. "Don't worry, I'll be right there with you. We'll ease you into it. Plus, my folks are going to be so excited to meet you they're gonna forget about the game, at least for a minute."
The mention of his family makes your stomach flip. This is a big step, meeting his family, even if you've both been keeping things casual. There's a part of you that wonders if this trip is more than just a casual one for Glen.
"What are they like? Your family, I mean," you ask, trying to keep your tone light.
Glen's expression softens, a fond smile playing on his lips. "They're great. They'll love you, I promise. My mom might be a little overwhelming at first, but that's just because she cares so much. And my dad, well he's the quiet type, but once you get him talking about anything Texas-related, you won't be able to get him to stop."
You smile at the thought, feeling a bit more at ease. "They sound like a good bunch."
"They are," Glen says, his voice sincere. "And they're going to love you. How could they not?"
His words bring warmth to your chest, and you squeeze his hand in return. "I hope so."
As the two of you continue to drive further into Austin, Glen gives you a mini tour. He points out a few landmarks - his favorite taco place, the park where he used to hang out with friends, and a music venue where he once saw an incredible show. You listen, soaking in every detail, feeling a sense of connection to this place that Glen clearly loves so much.
"Here we are," Glen says as he pulls into a parking spot near the stadium. The massive structure looms ahead, a sea of burnt orange and white, alive with energy even from a distance.
You take a deep breath, a mixture of anticipation and nerves swirling inside you. "This is it, huh?"
"This is it," Glen confirms, turning to you with a smile that melts away any lingering doubts. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be," you say, smiling back at him.
As you step out of Glen's truck, you notice that nearly everyone around you is decked out in burnt orange and white. Texas Longhorns hats, jerseys, and t-shirts, all show their pride. The sea of matching colors makes you acutely aware that you're the only one not wearing any team gear.
Glen steps around the truck to join you, noticing the way your eyes scan the crowd. He gives you a playful nudge with his elbow. "Feeling a little out of place?"
You laugh, shrugging slightly. "Just a bit. I think I missed the memo on the dress code."
Without missing a beat, Glen reaches up to the back of his head and pulls off the white Longhorns cap he's been wearing. He turns it around in his hands before stepping closer to you. "Here, you can wear this. Can't have you being the odd one out."
Before you can respond, he's already placing the cap on your head. His fingers brush against your hair as he adjusts the fit, making sure it sits just right. You tilt your head up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "How do I look?"
Glen takes a step back to admire his work, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You look great in Orange. Might even say you wear it better than I do."
You roll your eyes playfully, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "You might be biased."
"Maybe," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. "But I'm also right."
As you walk towards the section of the parking lot reserved for tailgating, Glen drapes an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close. "Tell you what, we'll hit up the merch stand once we're inside. Gotta get you a t-shirt to complete the look."
"You don't have to do that," you start to protest, but Glen shakes his head.
"I want to," he insists, squeezing your shoulder lightly. "Consider it part of the full Texas football experience."
You smile up at him, feeling more at ease with every step. "Alright, but only if you help me pick it out."
"Deal," Glen says, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple before leading you into the sea of orange and white.
The aroma of sizzling barbecue fills the air as you and Glen approach the tailgating area. Rows of trucks and RVs are lined up in the parking lot, each decked out in burnt orange. Flags bearing the Texas Longhorns logo flutter in the breeze, and the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles create a festive atmosphere.
Glen leads you through the crowd with a confident stride, his hand securely holding yours. As you near a large, lively group gathered around a grill, Glen spots his family and friends.
"There they are," he says, nodding towards the group. "Ready to meet everyone?"
You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Ready as I'll ever be."
Glen gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you approach the group. His mom, Cyndy, is the first to spot the two of you, and her face lights up with a welcoming smile. She's a petite woman with a warm demeanor, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she waves you over.
"There you are!" Cyndy calls out, pulling Glen into a quick hug before turning her attention to you. "And you must be the one we've been hearing so much about. I'm Cyndy, it's so nice to finally meet you!"
You return her smile, instantly feeling at ease with her friendly nature. "It's great to meet you too. Glen's told me a lot about you."
"Oh, I'm sure he has," Cyndy says with a wink before pulling you into a hug. "Welcome, sweetheart."
Next, Glen's dad, Glen Sr., steps forward with a firm handshake and a nod. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with a quiet strength about him. "Good to have you here," he says simply, but the warmth in his tone is unmistakable.
Then, Glen's sisters Lauren and Leslie, each take their turn to greet you. Lauren gives you a friendly smile. "You're braver than I would be, meeting the whole crew at once like this. They can be a handful, but you'll be fine."
Leslie nudges Glen playfully. "You didn't warn her about us, did you?"
Glen laughs, shaking his head. "I figured I'd let you all speak for yourselves."
As you exchange pleasantries, more of Glen's friends and extended family members join in, introducing themselves and welcoming you with open arms. Someone hands you a cold drink, and before you know it, you're standing around a grill piled high with burgers, sausages, and all the fixings, soaking in the pre-game atmosphere.
The conversation quickly turns to stories about Glen's past. A few of his college buddies, each with a beer in hand, are eager to share some of their favorite memories.
"Remember that time Glen tried to impress a girl by riding a mechanical bull at that honky-tonk?" One of them starts, a grin spreading across his face.
"Oh, I remember!" Another chimes in. "He was so confident, strutted right up there like he was gonna show everyone how it's done. Lasted about five seconds before he got thrown off and landed flat on his back."
The group erupts in laughter, and even Glen can't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he says shaking his head. "At least I gave it a shot."
Cyndy leans in closer to you, a glint in her eye. "That's nothing compared to the time he and his sister decided to 'borrow' my car when they were kids. Thought they'd take a little joyride around the neighborhood...until they crashed it into a mailbox."
"Oh no!" You gasp, unable to suppress a laugh.
Lauren grins, shaking her head at the memory. "We were grounded for months. Glen thought he was so slick, but he didn't realize the mailbox he hit belonged to one of Dad's friends."
"Yep," Glen Sr adds with a rare smile, "and that's how they learned not to mess with my car."
The easy banter and lighthearted stories quickly dissolve any lingering nerves you have. Glen's family and friends are down-to-earth, welcoming you into their inner circle as if you've always been a part of it. The more they share, the more you see the depth of their bond and the way they care for each other.
As you take another bite of your burger, you look over at Glen, who's been watching you with a soft smile. "You doing okay?" he asks quietly, leaning in so only you can hear.
You nod, feeling completely at ease now. "Yeah, I'm doing great. Your family's wonderful."
His smile widens as he places a hand gently on your back. "I'm glad you think so. They're a little crazy, but they're mine."
"And now I guess I'm part of them too," you say with a playful grin.
Glen's eyes light up at your words, and he leans in to press a quick, affectionate kiss to your lips. "Yeah, I guess you are."
Just then, one of Glen's friends raises his drink and shouts "Hook 'em, Horns!" The entire group responds in unison, raising their hands in the iconic "Hook 'em Horns" gesture, with pinkies and index figures extended with the thumb tucked grasping the second and third fingers.
You try to mimic the gesture, but you don't quite cooperate. Glen catches your struggle and chuckles softly. "Here, let me help," he says, gently taking your hand in his.
With his warm fingers guiding yours, Glen carefully adjusts your hand, making sure your pinky and index fingers are extended and your thumb tucks the other fingers. His touch is gentle and precise, and you can't help but feel a little flutter in your chest as he concentrates on getting it just right.
"How's that?" you ask, looking up at him with a smile.
He gives your hand a final tweak before stepping back to admire his work. "Perfect," he says, his voice soft and affectionate. "Now you're officially part of the team."
You laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Guess I really am one of you now."
The group continues to laugh and share stories as the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the gathering. The pre-game atmosphere, filled with the sounds of sizzling food, clinking bottles, and cheerful banter, is everything you imagined - and more. With Glen's arm draped comfortably around your shoulders and the "Hook 'em Horns" gesture nailed down, you feel a sense of belonging that surprises you in the best possible way.
As the tailgate winds down and the anticipation for the game grows, Glen wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you through the throng of excited fans heading towards the stadium. The air is filled with the sounds of chanting, music, and the collective buzz of thousands of supporters, all eager for the big game.
"Ready for the full game day experience?" Glen asks, glancing over at you with a grin.
You nod, feeling a mixture of excitement and curiosity. "Definitely. Lead the way."
As you approach the entrance, Glen veers off towards a merchandise stand just inside the gate, keeping his promise to get you your very own Texas Longhorns shirt. The stand is awash with burnt orange and white, offering everything from t-shirts to hoodies, foam fingers, and even Longhorns-themed sunglasses.
"Okay, let's find you something," Glen says, scanning the racks of shirts. He picks out a simple, yet classic burnt orange t-shirt with the Texas Longhorns logo emblazoned across the front. Holding it up to you, he grins "How about this one?"
You take the shirt from him, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers. "It's perfect," you say, already imagining yourself fitting right in with the sea of orange in the stadium.
Glen pays for the shirt and then hands it back to you. "Go ahead and try it on. Let's see how it looks."
You pull the t-shirt over your white tank top, the bright orange contrasting perfectly with your outfit. As you smooth the fabric down, Glen steps back to admire the look.
"Hold on," he says, reaching for the white Texas Longhorns baseball cap he had been wearing earlier. With a playful grin, he gently places it back on your head, adjusting the brim so it sits just right. His fingers linger for a moment, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
You look up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "How do I look?"
Glen's gaze softens as he takes you in, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You look great," he says, his voice filled with genuine affection. "I think orange might be your color."
You laugh softly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Guess I'm officially part of the team now."
"Absolutely," Glen replies, leaning in to brush a quick kiss against your forehead. "Now, let's get to our seats."
With his arm comfortably draped around your shoulders, Glen guides you through the bustling concourse and up towards the exclusive box seats he reserved for you, his family, and close friends. As you walk, you can't help but notice a few heads turning, whispers following in your wake. It's clear that Glen's presence isn't going unnoticed.
But Glen seems unfazed by the attention, focused entirely on making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. "Don't worry," he says, sensing your unease as you pass by a group of fans who seem to be debating whether or not to approach. "The suite will give us a bit of privacy. It's just us and the people we want to be with."
You give him a grateful smile, relieved at the thought of a more private space. "That sounds perfect."
When you reach the suite, a staff member opens the door, revealing a spacious, comfortable area with large windows offering an unobstructed view of the field. The room is decked out with cozy seating, a fully stocked fridge, and even a table spread with game day snacks.
Glen's family is already there, mingling and settling in, and they greet you warmly as you enter. You quickly realize that this box isn't just a place to watch the game - it's a space where you can relax, enjoy the company, and soak in the experience without any interruptions.
Glen guides you to a seat near the window, right next to him. As you take in the view of the field below, and the energy of the crowd that's starting to pile into the stadium, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling up.
"So, what do you think?" Glen asks, settling in beside you, his hand casually resting on your knee.
You turn to him, your smile reflecting the excitement you feel. "It's incredible."
Glen grins, clearly pleased. "I'm glad you're here," he says giving your knee a gentle squeeze. "Now, get ready for some real Texas football."
Suddenly, the lights dim, and the giant screen at the far end of the stadium flickers to life. The Texas Longhorns logo appears, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You glance over at Glen, who is grinning ear to ear, clearly caught up in the excitement.
"Here they come," he says, nodding towards the tunnel at the edge of the field.
The sound of drums fills the air as the Texas Longhorns marching band begins playing. The brass instruments gleam under the stadium lights and the rhythm of the drums pulses through the stands, making your heart beat a little faster.
As the band starts playing the school fight song, the crowd rises to their feet, the familiar tune echoing throughout the stadium. Glen stands up, pulling you to your feet with him. The sight is breathtaking - the sea of burnt orange, the flags waving proudly, and the booming voices of thousands of fans all joining together in the song.
Glen leans in close, his voice just above a whisper in your ear. "You've got to sing along, it's tradition."
You smile nervously, not sure what the words are, but Glen's enthusiasm is contagious. As the band reaches the chorus, Glen starts singing, his voice blending with the roar of the crowd. "Texas Fight! Texas Fight! And it's goodbye to A&M..."
You start to hum along to the words, your soft voice, almost drowned out by the thousands of others. But Glen's infection energy pulls you in. His eyes spark with excitement. "Louder!" he urges, his grin widening.
You laugh, feeling the last of your hesitation melt away as you throw yourself into the chant, clapping along with the beat and shouting the words with enthusiasm. Glen's pride is evident, and he can't hide his delight at seeing you get into the spirit of the game.
As the team bursts onto the field, the stadium erupts into a thunderous roar. The players, clad in their iconic burnt orange and white uniforms, charge out of the tunnel, the sight of them stirring a fresh wave of excitement into the crowd. The band crescendos into the final notes of the fight song, and the noise level reaches a fever pitch.
Glen wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the team lines up on the field. "What do you think?" he asks, his voice barely audible over the noise.
You look up at him, your heart racing with the excitement of the moment. "It's amazing," you reply, your smile wide and genuine. "I can see why you love this so much."
As the players take their positions on the field, the atmosphere in the stadium becomes electric. The roar of the crowd swells, and you can feel the anticipation vibrating through the stands. You're fully immersed in the excitement, your earlier nerves replaced with growing enthusiasm as Glen points out different players and explains the significance of the game.
Just as you start to relax, the opening kickoff is moments away. You're leaning forward in your seat, eyes glued to the field when suddenly - BOOM!
The deafening sound of Smokey the Cannon firing catches you completely off guard. You jump in your seat, your heart racing as the shock of the blast reverberates through your chest.
Glen, noticing your startled reaction, can't help but chuckle. "Sorry, I should've warned you about that," he says, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. His laugh is warm and affectionate, and he pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder. "That's Smokey the Cannon. It fires off at every kickoff. Just part of the tradition."
You lean into his embrace, your initial fright quickly fading as you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. "I think I just aged a few years," you say with a laugh, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline. "I wasn't expecting that at all."
Glen's grip tightens slightly, his way of reassuring you. "It's loud, but you'll get used to it," he says, his voice gentle and comforting in your ear. "Trust me, by the end of the game, you'll be waiting for it."
You turn your head to catch his eye, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. "I'll take your word for it," you reply, your nerves settling as you take comfort in his closeness.
The game kicks off, and the action on the field immediately draws you back in. As the players clash, the crowd erupts into cheers and groans, their energy contagious. Glen keeps you close, his arm draped over your shoulders, and you find yourself getting more and more caught up in the excitement of it all.
Throughout the game, Glen is right there, guiding you through the experience. He explains the rules as plays unfold, pointing out the strategy behind each move. "See how the quarterback is scanning the field?" he says at one point. "He's looking for an open receiver, someone who can catch the ball and make a run for it."
You nod, trying to absorb the information. "It's a lot more complicated than I thought," you admit, appreciating his patience.
Glen grins, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. "That's what makes it fun," he says. "Once you start to understand the strategy, it's like watching a chess match...only with a lot more action."
As the game progresses, you find yourself cheering along with the crowd, your earlier nerves completely forgotten. Glen's explanations help you feel more connected to the game, and his excitement is infectious. Each time something exciting happens on the field - a touchdown, a particularly good tackle - he turns to you with a grin, eager to share the moment.
"Did you see that?" he asks after a particularly impressive play, his eyes alight with excitement. "That's what they call a 'Hail Mary' - a long pass to try and score a touchdown when time's running out."
You nod, caught up in the moment. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this," you say, feeling a sense of pride as you follow the flow of the game.
Glen leans in, his voice low and full of affection. "You're doing great," he says, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you're here with me."
You smile up at him, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. "Me too," you reply, feeling more at home in the stadium with each passing moment.
As the game continues, the two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm - Glen explaining plays, you cheering along with the crowd, and both of you enjoying the shared experience. It's a day filled with excitement, but also with moments of quiet connection, each one deepening the bond between you.
And by the time Smokey the Cannon fires off again, you barely flinch - too caught up in the thrill of the game and the warmth of Glen's presence beside you.
The final whistle blows and the stadium erupts in a sea of burnt orange and white. Texas has won, and the energy in the air is electric. Fans are cheering, hugging, and celebrating as the Longhorns players wave to the crowd before making their way off the field. You can't help but get caught up in the excitement, clapping along as the band strikes up the fight song one last time.
As the crowd begins to thin out, Glen helps you gather your things, and the two of you make your way out of the suite. The halls of the stadium are still buzzing with excitement, fans streaming toward the exits, chatting excitedly about the game. You notice a few people casting glances your way - recognition flickering in their eyes as they realize who Glen is.
You feel a flutter of nervousness in your chest as the looks become more frequent. The idea of being recognized, of suddenly being in the spotlight, is overwhelming. But before the anxiety can take hold, Glen reaches for your hand. His grip is firm, and reassuring, and he gives you a comforting smile.
"Don't worry," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I'm right here."
His words and his touch soothe you, and you take a deep breath, focusing on the warmth of his hand in yours rather than the curious glances around you. Together, you navigate through the crowd, Glen's presence beside you acting as an anchor, keeping you steady.
As you step out into the cool evening air, the noise of the stadium fades behind you, replaced by the more distant sounds of fans celebrating in the parking lot. The crowd is thinning out, and the atmosphere feels less intense, allowing you to finally relax.
Glen leads you to his truck, and as you approach it, he glances over at you, his expression softening. "So...your first Texas game," he says as he opens the passenger door for you. "What did you think? Did it live up to the hype?"
Your smile, climbing into the truck and settling into the seat. "It really did," you reply, your tone reflecting the surprise in your voice. "I didn't think I'd get so caught up in it, but I did. The energy, the crowd, the way everyone was so passionate...it was contagious."
Glen closes the door and walks around to the driver's side, sliding into the seat beside you. He doesn't start the truck right away, instead turning slightly to face you, his gaze soft and warm.
"I'm really glad you came," he says, his voice sincere. "It means a lot to me to share this with you."
You feel your heart swell at his words, and you take a moment to let them sink in. "I'm glad I came too," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. "It's not something I ever imagined myself doing, but I'm really happy I did."
Glen reaches out and takes your hand again, his fingers intertwining with yours. "You were a great sport about everything," he says, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Even when Smokey scared the life out of you."
You laugh, shaking your head at the memory. "I'll admit, that was a bit much," you say with a grin. "But honestly, the whole experience was incredible. I see now why it's such a big deal for you."
Glen's smile widens, and for a moment, the two of you simply sit there, hands clasped, sharing a quiet, meaningful silence. The excitement of the day is still buzzing in your veins, but there's also a deeper feeling - a sense of connection, of understanding, that goes beyond just the game.
"I'm really happy you're here with me," Glen says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of emotion. "This...it all means a lot more with you by my side."
His words hit you in a way you didn't expect, and you realize just how much this day, and this man, have come to mean to you. You squeeze his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the game or the crowd, but everything to do with him.
"I'm happy to be here," you reply, your voice just as soft. "With you."
For a moment, the world outside the truck seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the parking lot. It's a moment of quiet reflection, of mutual appreciation, and as you sit there, you realize that this experience has brought you closer to Glen in a way you hadn't anticipated.
Glen starts the engine, but before he shifts into gear, he leans over and presses a tender kiss to your lips. It's soft, sweet, and filled with unspoken emotion, a perfect ending to a day you'll never forget.
As he pulls away, you both smile at each other, the bond between you stronger than ever. As the truck rolls out of the parking lot, leaving the stadium behind, you feel a sense of contentment, knowing that this is just the beginning of something truly special.
The next morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your bedroom. You sit on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, absently twisting the brim of Glen's baseball cap between your fingers. The events of the previous day play on a loop in your mind - Glen's infectious enthusiasm, the electrifying atmosphere of the game, and the way he held your hand, guiding you through it all. A smile tugs at your lips as you remember the look in his eyes when he told you how much it meant to him to have you there.
But now, in the quiet of your room, the excitement of the game has given way to do something deeper - an unmistakable warmth in your chest, a feeling that's both exhilarating and a little terrifying. You realize that what started as casual dating has slowly grown into something more. And for the first time, you feel the need to talk to someone about it.
You take a deep breath and scroll through your contacts, landing on your mom's number. The familiar sound of the ringtone fills the room as you hold the phone to your ear, your heart beating a little faster with each passing second. Finally, you hear her voice on the other end, warm and welcoming as always.
"Hi, sweetie! How are you?" Your mom greets you, the sound of her voice instantly soothing some of your nerves.
"Hey, Mom," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'm good. Just...thinking about a lot of things."
Your mom chuckles softly. "Well, it sounds like you've got something on your mind. What's going on?"
You pause for a moment, gathering your thoughts before you begin. "I met somebody, and...he's really great, Mom. he's got these green eyes that I could just get lost in, and he's so sweet. He opens doors for me, he makes me laugh, and he...he doesn't make me cry." Your voice softens as you say the last part, a small admission of how different this feels from anything you've experienced before.
There's a brief silence on the other end, and then your mom speaks, her voice gentle. "He sounds wonderful, honey. Tell me more about him."
A smile spreads across your face as you think about Glen. "He's from Texas, not exactly where we're from, but...when I'm with him, he feels like home. He's got me doing things I never thought I'd do, like going to a football game." You laugh, still a little surprised at how much you enjoyed the experience.
Your mom laughs too, a mix of surprise and amusement in her tone. "A football game? You? Never thought I'd see the day."
"I know, right?" you reply, shaking your head at the memory. "He even gave me his hat to wear because I didn't have any Texas gear. And, Mom...I liked it. I really liked it."
There's a pause, and you can almost hear your mom's smile through the phone. "It sounds like you're really falling for this guy."
You bite your lip, the truth of her words sinking in. "I think I am," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Mama...I like him a lot. I even learned the words to the Texas Fight Song."
Your mom's laughter rings through the phone, full of warmth and understanding. "It sounds like he's got you wrapped around his finger," she teases, but there's no judgment in her voice, only happiness for you.
"Maybe he does," you say, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. "But...it feels right, Mom. He feels right."
Your mom's voice softens, a hint of emotion creeping in. "I'm happy for you, sweetheart. Just take things one step at a time, and follow your heart."
You nod, even though she can't see you. "Thanks, Mom. I will."
As you end the call, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. Talking to your mom has helped you put things into perspective, and you realize that you're ready to see where things go with Glen, no matter where that may lead. The thought of him brings a smile to your face, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at what the future might hold.
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