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Amazing to see you better and back writing again! I've been pretty much off tumblr for a while because on RL stuff so quite a shock (but a wonderful surprise) to see I'd missed a Writing Wednesday, but great fun to read through the recent prompts and answers - you still write as beautifully as ever! If you are in the mood for it, I'd love to see something with Alec changing from 'In Command' to 'Melting/Falling Apart' as he walks to Magnus - any verse is good :)
hi!!! it's been a while yes but its amazing to be back and good to hear from you! I get that, RL makes it really hard to be online sometimes, when I wasn't writing I tried to stay somewhat active but tbh writing is why i'm interested in being online so I was kinda bad at it.
i'm actually relieved my writing hasn't gotten too rusty, so i'm thankful to hear that! I hope you enjoy this, it's in the petals vs and is Mirai's POV
<3 lumine
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in his wake petals fall
Mirai is pleased with her position as Alec Lightwood’s second.
He’s tough but fair — though he has his own weaknesses — and beyond that, he takes the lives of his hunters seriously.
Which means that when someone from the outside fucks up and puts either lives or the reputation of his Insitutte in danger, he takes it seriously.
Like now, where he stands half-naked and dripping from his hurried decontamination shower and is dressing down a dirt-smudged, scowling shadowhunter.
“You opened up a manhole to track down a nest of demons and then you just happened to leave it open? Along with the other three hatches and locked areas you went through that allowed two dozen minor demons to flood the streets? I had to send two teams back down to make sure no mundanes fell or were dragged in.”
As he speaks Alec’s volume stays calm and measured and despite being two inches shorter than the hunter he’s scolding, he holds every bit of power in the room with just the tone of his voice. It’s cold, like ice despite the gentle pitch of it and every single hunter in the room can hear the anger and disappointment in it.
“I didn’t know we were supposed to shut it.”
It’s not a question and it’s not even an attempt at an apology and Mirai knows that Idris’ latest and best will be sent back by daybreak.
“Why is he even here?”
It’s a valid question even if the answer is the same as it always is, politics.
“His mother just joined the council.” Kaleb has barely looked up from his tablet since Alec was called from his office to deal with the dozens of demons loose in a mundane night market. They’d needed his skill to deal with it quickly and efficiently and even Jace was woken up to direct a city wide communication web despite having only just ended a shift. “We accepted the transfer because his scores were among the top, apparently they no longer test for critical thinking.”
“...”
Mirai has never seen a nephilim move so quickly without active runes before. Alec’s strength due to his training and use of the bow is legendary but there is still something impressive about watching him lift someone taller and broader than him with the ease of a cat dangling a mouse.
Alec shakes him, as if that will somehow help impart the lesson he wishes to teach him. Considering that half of Alec’s skin is still raw and pink from being regrown after ichor coated it, Mirai imagines the only one truly suffering is her commander. But if this helps relieve his stress after the evening he’s had, she’ll take it.
“Alexander—”
Salvation comes in the form of Magnus Bane and Mirai will always be grateful for the privilege of having his private phone number. It means that there is always a quick way to de-escalate the many situations Idris creates.
Her commander drops the offending hunter like an ichor covered stele and moves just as quickly — yet far less angrily — to his husband.
“Magnus.”
Just as soft but no longer filled with ice, Alec’s tone turns from a cold dagger to a cool, gentle breeze petting against the senses. The dark furrow of his brow and the angry turn of his lips smoothes too quickly to catch as his eyes soften and he smiles.
If Mirai was any less confident, she’d wonder if he’d ever actually been angry at all.
There’s a quick moment where Alec’s gaze catches her and she relaxes at the pleased acknowledgment there.
Good.
So far Alec’s never minded that she uses Magnus to reign him in, sometimes she feels almost as if he plays into it, just a bit.
Then something will happen that will remind her that no matter how far he plays into it, Alec Lightwood-Bane truly is just a smitten mess for his husband. No matter how fierce his anger or great his agony, Alec’s attention will always shift to where Magnus Bane is.
Having no need to worry about the success of her mission — the minute Alec heard his husband it was a success — she nods to Kaleb who smirks and taps the tablet in his hands.
He’ll have the hunter processed and escorted back to Idris before Magnus is done taking her commander out for dinner.
When she turns, Magnus has already summoned actual clothing beyond damp sweatpants for Alec and a crown of flowers that he’s actually holding away from her commander.
“Magnus, please?” Alec’s voice is a quiet plea, something so fragile compared to his strength just moments before, as if being denied the flower crown he knows his husband specifically brought just for him will truly break him.
Magnus Bane laughs, winking at her as he shakes his head in mock pity.
“Duty first, darling. I can hardly give you the flowers if they might get ruined in a few moments. You finish handling things here, then you get the crown.”
It’s an opening that in any other situation Alec might take him up on, but Mirai has watched this particular scene replay itself for months and as always, Alec delegates.
“Mirai?”
“Everything here will be handled shortly. I’m sure sending a scathing letter for the council to read publicly will be a much more effective use of your time, sir.”
He definitely agrees, if the way Alec’s immediately turning back to Magnus and dips his head down along with the offering the full effect of wide, glossy hazel eyes peering up pleadingly.
Magnus caves instantly, a crown with flowers Mirai doesn’t know from memory but a scent that tells her is honeysuckle, placed on Alec’s brow.
#lumine writes#writing wednesday#writing wednesdays#in his wake petals fall#petals vs#magnus bane#malec#alec lightwood#mirai lakecastle
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Within a split second, a deafening crack rippled throughout the forest as Jacob’s fist met Edward’s marble-like skin. I’m sure a scream escaped me as a strong arm pushed me off to the side- I couldn’t have been sure whether I made a noise, or even whose arm it was given my state of shock. Or fear? The stage directions from Romeo and Juliet kept repeating in my head. They fight; Paris falls.
All I managed to catch a glimpse of in the second that I was pushed back was Jacob’s furious face, his entire body practically convulsing, his knuckles bloody as he raised his fist again. I saw Edward’s face, his beautiful porcelain skin appearing cracked and his golden eyes dark with anger somehow even more intense than Jacob’s.
Edward’s arm raised to knock Jacob backwards, everything happening so quickly all I saw was the glimpse of russet brown fur and the shine of diamond skin disappearing out of the clearing and into the depths of the forest, as I was left by both Paris and Romeo, hyperventilating in my meadow with my hands shaking and twisted in my hair.
[as a birthday tribute to jacob black, here’s a snippet of him punching edward told through bella’s point of view. didn’t feel like writing a whole story so you get whatever this is.]
#i’m so nervous about posting this bye.#Pretty please pretty please leave criticism#be nice though#i think I did a pretty good job but I have the jitters posting my writing for the first time even if it’s jst a snippet#jacob black#team jacob#Team Bella#happy birthday jacob!!#anti edward cullen#anti cullen#twilight#the twilight saga#bella swan#edward cullen#౨ৎ vivi writes#౨ৎ twilight#౨ৎ emo wolf dude
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why do i keep seeing hazbin hotel on my dash. shoo
#melonposting#it's come to the point that even though there are several valid criticisms against the show#the main reason why i dislike it is because i find it annoying#just in essence! it's just annoying!!#i feel the same way about miraculous ladybug#i don't want to touch it with a ten foot pole. leave me be pretty please
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You didn't even know how this happened and if you were in your right mind, you would be embarrassed to no end, but somehow you ended up laying in fratboy! Satoru's bed with him on top of you making out, and god who knew what would happen after a few drinks at one of his parties?
But even now you still were wondering why his kisses felt so passionate, why his hand on your waist held you so securely and steady and why were you imagining a faint blush on his cheeks?
What a few drinks do to you, huh?
"Fuck, you are so hot..." he was mumbling into your lips while his other hand explored your body. You felt yourself burning up at his words and after a small whine escaped your lips, he chuckled while creating a small gap between you two.
"Says you..." a poor attempt to flirt really, but it did draw a small laugh from him.
"Soooooo..." he started to lightly pull at your shirt and a bit of panic ignited through your body. "Is this okay?"
He stopped in his tracks and looked at you through his dazed eyes. Blue eyes. Really, really pretty eyes.
Fuck, why were people always judging other girls for spending the night with him? You would do it for the rest of your life if you could...
"Hey, if you don't want to, it's alright-" after your lack of response, the famous fratboy! Satoru really got nervous and looked at you with no of his usual confidence.
"No no, I want this but..." you cleared your throat while looking away. "Could you please turn off the light?"
He blinked at you two times. Then three times. His mouth slowly opening and closing again, making you feel smaller under his gaze and almost clutch onto your clothes. He then sat up while shaking his head. "Why?"
"Oh you know..." you followed him and sat up yourself, while letting out a nervous laugh. "Don't want you to be turned off."
...
That wasn't what Satoru wanted to hear, no never. He looked at you with so much confusion he genuinely thought you were joking at first. But when he saw your awkward smile he couldn't believe you really meant it.
"Me? Turned off? By you?"
"Oh I know how it is, sometimes the imagination is better than reality, I don't want to ruin the fun-" you let out another nervous laugh. You already ruined this didn't you?
"Me? Turned off? By you??" he groaned as he saw the genuine confusion on your face.
"I don't understand..." you muttered while he studied your face with a critical look.
"Listen to me sweetheart." he pulled you close again and you could just barely surpress the little sigh that was about to leave you.
"You're literally the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid my eyes on. And I won't be turned off by any part of you, okay?"
Now it was your turn to blink at him. And it was probably just the lightning, but he seemed even more red.
"You are telling that every girl." you accidentally muttered what was supposed to stay in the safe and deadly space of your head, but he heard it and now almost seemed to glare at you.
"Jesus we need to work on your self esteem." he started to hide his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling at the skin. "And I won't fuck you, if I can't admire you, just to be clear. I waited to long for this moment to not see you moaning my name."
Now you were really burning up, what the hell?
"Please, I just don't want this to be ruined by my not so great loc-"
"I waited to long, seeing you every day at campus, admiring you, listening to your sweet voice, to only get a dark room for my first time worshipping you."
"Gojo, stop it-" you felt like dying from his words, feeling him touching you everywhere wasn't helping you in any way. Even if you will dream of this.
"Satoru. You know the name." he groaned into the crook of your neck. "Sweetheart, I think we have to just cuddle for today."
It was stupid but your heart sank at his words because, fuck, you really did ruin it. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. I have to take you out at first so you get that I'm serious."
What a few drinks do to you, huh? If only you knew fratboy! Satoru wanted to ask you out since last year.

Listened to bed chem while writing this hehehe
#jjk#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#gojo fluff#jjk smut#gojo smut#jjk fluff
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“i can’t stop looking at her t-t-t..face”

NASTY DOG!ELLIE x MEAN!POPULAR!READER
Synopsis: you were a popular girl in school, pretty and mean, the whole package of course and ellie? yeah she was head over heels for you.
Authors note: hey guyssss lol, this is my first fic ever but i hope it was okay, feel free to give me critic, (my first language isn’t english so there might be mistakes)
OCTOBER
yeah okay, ellie was nasty…there was no denying it and she knew that very well.
she wasn’t nasty in the form of hygiene and basic human decency but it was more in the desire department. she wanted nothing more than to get her face shoved into a pussy and do everything and anything to please you.
Even her friends took notice, it wasn’t unusual for her best friend dina to call her out numerous times a day, “jesus ellie, quit ogling over her” to which ellie would throw her hands in the air and look at her best friend with an annoyed and pouty look, “im not ogling, she’s just in my eyesight…s’not my fault”. Ellie knew she was totally drooling at the sight of you, her eyes never leaving your beautiful face, and your tempting body…you were just so perfect, so blissfully perfect it even annoyed her a little because the chance of you ever looking in her way, it was laughable, no way in hell could you like her.
Ellie wasn’t unpopular, in fact she had many friends and a great social life, that didn’t exclude the fact that she was hardcore loser but people didn’t really notice that…except you and your friends of course.
It was like you were cut out from a 2000s lame repeating teenage movie, so pretty, so poetic yet so fucking mean.
you were considered one of the prettiest girl in the school, nobody admitted it out loud but everyone knew the power you held along with that. you had many admires, many “suitors”…literally. you were a part of the ever lasting “popular clique”. you and your friends were a higher power in the school, you were of status, of value, of position, or at least that’s what your friendgroup had convinced themselves of.. it didn’t matter though, you and your friends made sure people knew you were better than them.
oh and your favorite thing? making people feel useless, making them squirm under the gaze of your piercing and almost stinging eyes.
ellie hated that.
just like any other kid who hadn’t been brainwashed yet, of course she hated it, getting made fun of or treated like a dog is never pleasant, but the weird thing? she never really did despise you for that. there was something about you that made you so intriguing no matter how much of a bitch you were to others.
in your eyes, you weren’t mean. at least not like your friends who buillied kids for merely looking in their way, and shit talked people while they were present, to make them feel weak. no, you weren’t like that, in fact you could be really sweet and kind, but sometimes the sass and attitude just over-shined that unfortunately..but to ellie’s sake? it made you even more fucking hot, even though you constantly stepped on her. Like a snake with venom, you and your friends would walk past ellie and her friends in the hallway, you would look at her with this nasty look on your face, a complete grimace of utter disbelief and disgust and then you’d scoff, in ellies eyes? you had looked at her, acknowledged her, given her a bit of your attention…and it only made her want to be your lap dog, but unfortunately that’s all the attention ellie had ever gotten from you…mean stares.
dina and her boyfriend jesse would notice the way ellie’s eyes lighted up slightly when you grimaced at her, they both scoffed to them selves, knowing what a complete fool their friend was.
at night after a boring school day, ellie would lie in her bed with her phone dangling from her cold and calloused hand, her eyes focused on the sight of you- from a picture she found on your instagram, your graciously perfect curves and thighs, your eyes that looked like the universe, your glistening skin…oh, ellie was in a dangerous trance. Her other hand working on her puffy pink pussy that so desperately needed to get touched. pumping in and out with her slender fingers, ellie let out soft whimpers and noises, imagining that you were the one who made her feel like this, your rough but gentle fingers making her squirm and moan while you had that powerful smirk on your face, the one you always have when talking to someone below you, a stark contrast to the innocenct smiles you’d offer the teachers and those stupid boys who shamelessly flirted with you, their eyes only focusing on your round curvy tits…that made her furious, she knew she wasn’t exceptionally better than them but she was far more discreet and the difference between her and those men? she wanted to do everything you told her to…meanwhile they just wanted to use her body- in ellie’s eyes you were a goddess, in theirs? another fuckable girl to boost their ego.
She’d imagine you riding her dick and screaming out her name, bouncing up and down on the silicone as you bit your lip, making you feel so fucking good and carefree, while still knowing she’d never be in the position to fuck you, to dominate you, no no no…she’d be too pathetic for that, instead she’d be grinding on your ass, humping her skin on yours as you degrade her with your venomous words, pathetic dog, you wanna fuck me? then earn it..
you would make a fool out of her, make her feel useless just like you did to poor students on a normal school day.…but with ellie? your cruel taunting words wouldnt work on her, she’d only want more of you.
this was all in her imagination anyway but it wouldn’t stop her from cumming into her black boxers for the third time this night, now filled with her juices, only because of you and the irritating grip you had on her mind.
she’d lay back on her bed after her high, tired and touch deprived as her own fingers were never enough, she should feel ashamed, and she sometimes did but truth be told…ellie did not regret it at all, she knew she was nasty, nasty for imagining you, nasty for making you her sex fantasy, nasty for not giving a fuck. but she couldn’t stop herself.
₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊🍁 *ੈ✩‧₊˚
OCTOBER 28TH
i’m the highlights of october, everyone’s favorite month, a party had been planned like usual from one of the notorious party hosts, everyone was invited, which could only mean one thing...chaos.
After having brainstormed with dina and jesse for about a week, ellie had finally managed to figure out what her costume would be, it would be as simple as a wolf...a quick memory of her and old best friend trying on halloween masks, giggles and shitty puns running through her mind with a smile on her face, yeah- this was perfect.
ironically enough you had choosen to dress up as a cat, with ears, a painted nose and long nails that could snatch any guy or girl you had your eye on whether they wanted you or not, you’d have the power to get them anyways. a fierce kitty cat fitted you perfectly, it was a costume made for you.
Inside the enormous house, music was blasting and pounding, lights flickering all the colors, the smell of alcohol and sweat evidently stuck out. A glance around at all the people in costumes, it was almost the same atmosphere like there would be in a masquerade ball, it was the thrilling idea of putting on a mask for the night, and letting yourself let lose,
this wasn’t a normal party no, this was a chance to be/do/act any way you’d like, and many people had realized that, including ellie. The auburn haired girl had been wanting to talk with you for such a long time but she never had the guts to actually do it, in classes she would always imagine you dropping your pen, then she’d reach out and pick it up for you to take, hands brushing, fate happening, but of course something like that never actually did make it out of her mind.
Her mind had been running wild the day before the party, hell even the week before, the possibility of her longing desires becoming real?…she couldn’t contain herself, the thought of having a chance to talk to you, without the social structures and thick line between popular and not, it was exciting.
Ellie and her friends were sipping beers and passing around a fat joint, Ellie was sitting on the couch, her fair skin filled with freckles like stars, that nobody had ever seen, as she rarely shows her body. her fur glove paws wrapped around the joint and brought it to her lips, she took a long and well deserved hit, weed filling her lungs and system. the familiar feeling was ever so soothing, ellie made a content sigh and leaned back on the couch, her eyes traveling up to the crowd of people standing around and her eyes land on you, she immediately takes notice to your outfit, heat creeping up on her cheeks, a red tint covering her face and one single thought
holy fuck.
the way your dress hugged your body was enough to send ellie into a complete spiral, or the way your face was slightly painted, with your eyes covered in black eyeshadow, making you look like you could manipulate someones mind just by a quick glance.
ellie couldnt tear her eyes away from you, it was impossible when you looked so damn good, she wanted nothing more than for you to look at her, give her attention, give her validation. she wanted nothing else but to be at your feet. Ellie was ready to bite you, like a dog running after a cat, she’d be on your tail…leaping next to you at every step you took. Her gaze secretly lands on your chest, plump tits looking like a snack for her to devour, she wanted her tongue all over you, to lick you up, to feel your honey colored, shiny ski-
“hello?? earth to ellie?” the girl was pulled out of her trance, which might have been good because ellie was suddenly feeling way too hot and lustful, yeah it was the definitely the weed's fault, or so she convinced herself as if she pinning over you yesterday. “fuck- sorry yeah, what were you saying dee?” dina punched her arm and rolled her eyes. “oh my god ellie, were you staring at her again?! you know you can’t get her- just back off already”, dina was a good friend, she and ellie had been best friends since forever, which meant dina had no shame in being blunt and direct, telling ellie the truth that she didnt want to realize. Ellie grumbles and runs a hand over her face, feeling caught, but nevertheless her gaze once again falling back on you and more so- your chest that sat so beautiful in your black dress. “ow?! wha- i know that, you don’t have to point it out..”
dina scoffed at this, as she immediately noticed her dumb friend returning her gaze to you, “jeez ellie, stop looking at her ti-“
“face!” she interrupted quickly and looked at her friend with a slight smirk, the alcohol mixed with the weed running through her veins made her feel slightly more confident. “eugh you're like a nasty dog, and not in a good way” dina rolls her eyes and takes the joint from ellies hand, ellie lets out a cackle at her choice of words, but not denying them..she was definitely a nasty dog when it came to you.
ellie's pinning hadn't flown past your head, nothing did, of course you had noticed, you notice everything..if only ellie knew that, when she was shamelessly staring at you. but enough about that, were you going to do anything about it? absolutely not, many people’s eyes landed in you, if you gave one of them attention, others would just want your attention even more.
you had the upper hand in this and you werent going to do anything…but then why did it annoy you so much that her eyes were on you? usually you didn’t care…but something about ellie made you intrigued, and you fucking hated it.
ellie didn’t know how it happened, her feet had leaped up and were suddenly moving towards you, she couldn’t stop her feet they had a mind of their own right now and it was freaking ellie out
don’t act stupid ellie, fuck you’re dressed as a wolf?! and you except her to wanna talk to you
she stopped behind you, god you were even prettier up close, no ellie stop- act normal- before she could continue her nervous rambling inside her head, you had turned around and looked at her, your eyebrows scrunched with an annoyed look on your face, shit, ellie couldn’t tell if she regretted everything in that moment or if this was worth it as she got the chance to see you up close for once.
“um hi..?, what was your name again?” you glare at her like she was just an annoying bug in your face that you desperately wanted to get rid of. but ellie didn’t care she was too focused on your face. your kitty ears fitted you so well in your smooth messy hair and your painted nose made her want to crumble on the spot. ellie couldn’t tell if she was drooling or not, she might as well have been because of your outstanding beauty, you were like nothing she had seen before. “oh-..uh..i-im ellie”
you laugh in her face, the sound sending a lightning bolt through her body. “well.. ellie, you should’ve dressed up as a stalker to make up for your behavior” you cross your arms and look at her, taking in every inch of her skin, the poor girl felt so nervous and intimidated yet turned on under your hard gaze, “my behavior? what um what do you mean?-i- wasn’t-“
ellies words get caught off as you interrupted her, not having time or energy for her boring lies “i-i-i”..don’t play dumb with me,” you mock her stuttering with a cold tone of voice, clearly trying to use one of your classic mean girl techniques, ellie convinced herself she wasn’t bothered but truth be told she felt a little irritated, she felt herself become a little hurt by your bluntness and mean words, maybe her fondness of you was exactly what it was, just a facade she could see from the distance, ellie’s thoughts stopped as you spoke your next words with a smirk on your face and an innocent voice, “shouldn’t a good puppy like you learn some manners…”
she sucked in her breath, a blush creeping up her pale cheeks. your words were evil, and so not meant in any way but evil, you were trying to make her feel intimidated and it was working…but she couldn’t help but notice the touch of lust in your eyes, or maybe she was just drunk. her body was hot, her gaze finding your face, your evil grin paired with the most innocent, precious eyes she had ever seen, her previous irritation hadn’t faded completely but her temptations were definitely ruling over it. nasty thoughts springing in her mind, too unholy to be present right now, and you knew that.
“i’m a wolf…” she mumbled quietly under her breath, in reality she wanted to respond with a drop to her knees, but that wasn’t realistic yet. “is that barking, i hear coming from you??” you mockingly put up a hand to your ear pretending to listen for barks, looking at her as if she was nothing but a unpropper dog. Your gaze stays steady, challenging her to talk back, but a glint in her eyes shows she's up for the game, and you’re ready, not backing down an inch. ellie couldn’t help her spark of confidence in her next words. “funny, coming from someone dressed like a kitten” ellie licks her lips and speaks with a small smirk, tilting her head slightly, the alcohol for sure made ellie do it, in the real world she’d never have the guts to be playful with you.
You narrowed your eyes at her, not expecting her to say that, a cackle leaves your lips and you cross your arms and study her face. “oh now look who’s getting bold, did the little dog finally learn to bite back? hm?” your expression taunting, your irritation still present but an intriguing look in your eyes had appeared, waiting to see if ellie had the guts to really challenge you or if it was just a quick moment. she couldn’t figure you out, the tension was thick between the two girls
ellie didn’t want to respond, she didnt know what to say that could satisfy your question, she’d do anything for this moment to never end.
“m...maybe i did” the auburn haired girl reponds a little unsure of herself but she hides it with a steady face, she wanted to prove herself to you, prove that she wasnt just nervous rack. “maybe? oh ellen...i’d love to see that happening from someone like you” you smile innocently, knowing full well her name wasn’t ellen but she didn’t have to know that.
“its ellie...and, i can bark” she said, raising her chin higher to prove her point, her green eyes holding your gaze. She’s on edge, unsure if she’s just woken up something she can’t handle.
“..and i can scratch” you lean closer, the distance suddenly becoming much smaller, ellie could see the tiny spots on your nose and the way your lips were neatly formed and pressed towards, your piercing eyes finding ellie’s green orbits, staring daggers into her skull, ellie could’ve sworn she saw you looking at her lips for a split second, but she wasn’t sure…
does she want me the same way i want her?- no ellie, remember what dina said.
“but you already know that, don’t you?…ellie” oh the brown haired girl knew it very well, everyone did…you scratched like a kitten, you had your claws on everyone. She was speechless for a moment before nodding compliantly and before she could let out a real response you beat her to it, with the same smirk you had on your face the entire time. “that’s what i figured, enjoy the party ellen.” you reach your hand out and pat her head, your long nails making contact with her chestnut colored hair, in the most taunting annoying way ever and then you just disappear into the crowd of people, leaving ellie standing like a flustered mess, a hopeless, pathetic, blushing mess. she had never expected her first conversation with you to be like this.
god she was down bad~
part two??
#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie x reader#tlou2#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams fanfic#tlou fic
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chef's kiss is not enough


synopsis: a simple night out for good food changes when you meet the chef behind a dish that leaves you speechless.
pairing: chef!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the restaurant is cozy, the kind of place that doesn’t draw much attention from the outside but feels like a hidden treasure once you step inside.
soft lighting casts a warm glow over the wooden tables, and the low murmur of conversation mixes with the occasional clinking of plates.
you’re here with friends, seated at a corner table, menus spread out in front of you.
it’s the kind of night where you’re just looking forward to good food and laughter.
the waiter approaches, balancing several plates on his tray, and sets a bowl down in front of you. you thank him absentmindedly, but the moment your eyes land on your dish, you can’t help but pause.
it’s beautiful in its simplicity—steaming ramen served in a deep bowl, the broth shimmering under the restaurant’s soft light.
thin slices of pork rest delicately on the surface, alongside a soft-boiled egg, its yolk a vibrant golden color. green onions and a sheet of nori top it off, each detail deliberate and precise.
when you take the first bite, your eyes widen. the broth is rich and savory, the kind of flavor that seems to envelop your entire mouth.
the noodles are perfectly cooked, springy but not too firm, soaking up just enough of the broth.
each topping complements the next—the pork is tender, the egg creamy, the green onions adding a fresh, sharp contrast.
it’s the kind of dish that doesn’t just taste good; it feels like someone put their heart into it.
“oh my god,” you mutter, setting your chopsticks down for a moment. “this is incredible.”
your friends laugh at your reaction, one of them nudging you with their elbow. “you always get like this when the food’s good.”
“no, but this—this is different,” you insist, leaning closer to the bowl as if it holds some sort of secret. “this isn’t just good; this is like…life-changing.”
the comment earns a round of laughter, but you’re already distracted, glancing around the room for the waiter.
when you catch his eye, you raise a hand. “excuse me, who’s the chef here?”
the waiter looks surprised by the question. “our head chef is bakugou katsuki. would you like me to—”
“yes, please,” you interrupt, a little too quickly. realizing how eager you sound, you backtrack. “I mean, if he’s not too busy.”
the waiter nods and disappears toward the kitchen, leaving your friends to give you a variety of amused and curious looks.
“what?” you say defensively. “it’s not every day you eat something this good.”
a few minutes later, the kitchen door swings open, and the man who walks out is…not what you expected.
you were picturing someone older, maybe with a few gray hairs and a soft smile.
instead, this man—bakugou katsuki, apparently—is tall and broad-shouldered, his chef’s coat fitting snugly over a strong frame.
his spiky blond hair looks slightly damp, like he’s been working hard, and his expression is one of mild irritation.
he looks more like a professional athlete than a chef.
“what?” he says, his voice low and rough, as he strides up to your table. his crimson eyes sweep over the group before landing on you.
and for a moment, bakugou freezes. he didn’t know what to expect when the waiter said someone wanted to meet him—probably some pompous critic or a customer with a laundry list of complaints.
but you’re not what he expected. at all. there’s something about the way you’re looking at him, your eyes wide with a mix of nervousness and awe, that throws him completely off balance.
you’re…really pretty. too pretty, actually.
it’s annoying, how much it catches him off guard. his chest tightens, and he suddenly feels hyperaware of himself—his hands, his posture, the faint dampness of his forehead from the heat of the kitchen.
damn it.
“I, uh,” you start, faltering under his intense gaze. you weren’t expecting him to be so—well, intimidating. “I just wanted to say that the food is amazing. like, really amazing.”
for a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw tightening slightly. then he rubs the back of his neck, glancing away as if trying to compose himself. “thanks,” he mutters, his tone less gruff than before.
the way he looks away almost makes you smile.
he doesn’t seem like the type to take compliments well, and you can’t help but find it endearing. but at the same time, his presence is overwhelming, and you feel heat creeping up your neck.
“well,” he says abruptly, his eyes snapping back to yours. “if that’s it, I’ve got stuff to do.”
“right, of course,” you say quickly, nodding. “thank you again.”
he nods once, almost curtly, before turning and heading back toward the kitchen. you watch him go, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite organize.
the rest of the evening goes by in a blur.
you and your friends continue to chat and laugh, but your thoughts keep drifting back to bakugou. his sharp eyes, the way he looked almost flustered when you complimented him.
it’s distracting, and you can’t quite shake it.
as you’re leaving, stepping out into the cool night air, a voice calls out behind you.
“hey.”
you turn to see him standing in the doorway, still in his chef’s coat. he looks like he’s debating whether this is a good idea or not, his expression tight with something between determination and reluctance.
in his hand is a paper bag with the restaurant’s logo. “here,” he says, holding it out to you.
you blink, confused. “I didn’t order takeout.”
“it’s on me,” he says, shoving the bag toward you. his crimson eyes flick to the side, avoiding your gaze.
“oh, but—”
“just take it,” he interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind.
you hesitate for a moment before taking the bag. your fingers brush against his, and the brief contact sends a strange warmth through your chest. “thank you,” you murmur.
he nods, and for a moment, it looks like he might say something else. but then he just steps back inside, the door closing behind him.
when you get home, you open the bag to find a perfectly packaged serving of the ramen you raved about earlier. sitting on top is a small note, written in slightly messy handwriting:
xxx-xxx-xxxx the name’s katsuki. text me.
a smile creeps onto your face, and you find yourself thinking that maybe, just maybe, you will.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize
#bakugou x you#mha x y/n#bnha x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x you#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#mha x reader#katsuki bakugou x you#bakugou x fem!reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n
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ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇꜱ


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♇ what is a ruler in astrology?
♇ a ruler in astrology is a planetary ruler, a planet that rules over the sign that takes over a house, for example, someone with capricorn in their second house, will have saturn as their second house ruler.
♇ my second house is ruled by saturn, and saturn is placed in my seventh house in astrology.
♇ 2H RULER IN THE 1H ⟶ self value means a lot to them. distinct/nice voice can become famous for that. family-oriented or known as the most selfish family member. beauty and money oriented. very stubborn but beautiful, can imply that romance and communication is important to native.
♇ 2H RULER IN THE 2H ⟶ can be self-centred, being someone who is vocal. can be someone who is frugal as well. might like to sing, cook and create are. stubborn. could be obsessed with future spouse and can be someone who likes to many money. can be very sensual/sexual.
♇ 2H RULER IN THE 3H ⟶ very communicative. slow speakers or likes to take time to make their point. can be someone who likes to make quick money. pretty hands and hand writing. can be manipulative. values intelligent and siblings and cousins. spends money on food and travelling. beautiful relatives and pretty/loud neighbourhood.
♇ 2H RULER IN THE 4H ⟶ values family and order. very emotionally distant and private. very secretive and easily hurt. can be someone who is protective, and might become the money-maker of the family. being someone who has a nice aesthetic, and might sound like your mother, or a prominent female figure in the family.
♇ 2H RULER IN THE 5H ⟶ very creative people. superstars and values talent. could value children and be very protective over them. or could value healing the inner child. very intelligent and educated. very sexual and can value romance and sex. could moan loud during sex or could like listening to hot audios.
♇ 2H RULER IN THE 6H ⟶ troubles with eating. gym/health freak. can value order and good health. might like to speak on the phone a lot and can be someone who could love pets or animals in general. being someone who likes to win as well, very competitive souls. but can be critical or someone who fishes for compliments to other people.
♱ 2H RULER IN THE 7H ⟶ money from partners or business partnerships. can value connections with friends, family and people in general. can have a nice/airy voice, family relationship might've impacted how you behave in relationships. might love to buy aesthetically pleasing stuff and can be known to be pretty.
♱ 2H RULER IN THE 8H ⟶ very private and guarded people. family secrets can change them. gaining finances through spouse or a will. can be be intimate and values intimacy. secret siblings/family members. sensual voices, known for voice acting or even singing. could also be mean if they wanted to.
♱ 2H RULER IN THE 9H ⟶ values intelligence and travelling. could like to be flattered. being someone who could like to trade with other people. can be someone who values philosophy or having faith in something. people believing in them helps them become more confident, another placement where someone fishes for compliments all the time. can gain money through creative writing or directing. can have a big ego as well.
♱ 2H RULER IN THE 10H ⟶ popular business moguls. can be a famous vocal actress or actor. up-front person. nice deep/commanding voice. authoritative person, someone who values career, discipline and reputation. can be very self-involved and controlling. prominent financial life. coming from a respectable or known family.
♱ 2H RULER IN THE 11H ⟶ popular friends, values friendship and being independent. gaining money from the internet or through networking. distinct voices might sound animated. can be a humanitarian. weird food taste, found family core. being someone who loves privacy and charity. people are curious about your family, how you earn money. could have a wealthy future, or wealthy friends.
♱ 2H RULER IN THE 12H ⟶ drains through money. retail therapy. struggles with food. might be paranoid. light voices but shady people. unexpected talent, people are surprised whenever they're good at something. a family member might've gone to prison/been behind bars. manifestors. could be interested in the fae, could have dreamy beauty. might disappear a lot, and can be delusional.

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#d4rkpluto#1h#2h#3h#4h#5h#6h#7h#8h#9h#10h#11h#12h#astrology#astrology community#astro community#astro#zodiac notes#astrology observations#astro observations#zodiac community#astrology pluto#astrology readings#chart readings#natal chart reading#plutogames#astrology planets
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someone to be thankful for
DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader



summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.
warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.
word count: 11.5k
a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.
You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.
Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.
Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.
Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.
And somehow, someone will still find something.
Something to point out.
Something to comment on.
Something to criticize.
If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.
Because someone always had something to say.
“Should you be eating all of that?”
“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”
“Don’t you want to get married?”
“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”
Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.
Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.
“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”
You groan outwardly.
There’s still plenty left to do?
How’s that even fucking possible?
You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.
“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”
“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”
Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.
You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?
You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”
Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.
You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She’s donning a festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress, and her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”
Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”
Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.
“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”
“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”
Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.
You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”
She nods, returning to her board.
“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”
“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”
“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”
Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”
“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”
“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”
“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”
You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”
She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.
“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”
Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.
“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”
You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”
That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.
“Well?”
“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.
“She’s family.”
“She’s a jerk.”
“You crossed a line.”
“She crossed it first.”
Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.
“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”
She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.
You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.
Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.
He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.
The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.
After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”
He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”
“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”
He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”
“That’s really not that long.”
“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”
Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.
You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”
“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”
You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”
“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.
There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.
Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.
But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.
He’s here for your father.
Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”
You force back a small, amused snort.
As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.
It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.
“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.
Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”
Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”
“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”
You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.
Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”
Nodding, your father begins the prayer.
“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”
You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.
Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.
His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.
“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.
You force out the declaration. “Amen.”
“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.
Dinner’s fairly uneventful.
You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.
Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”
He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”
“You became a teacher?”
“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.
“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”
You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.
“Dad.”
Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.
But he does mean it.
His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.
Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”
Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.
You shoot him a small, grateful smile.
The two of you wind up talking to one another.
Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.
“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.
Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”
“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”
“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”
Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”
Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.
You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.
Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”
“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”
“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”
He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—
“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?
They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.
Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”
Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”
Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.
He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.
Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.
For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.
Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”
Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”
Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.
Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”
Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”
“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”
Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”
“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”
You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.
Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.
You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.
“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.
You stare at him in surprise.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.
Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”
His concern is genuine. It’s real.
You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.
“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”
Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”
It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.
You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.
But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.
Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.
“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”
You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.
He feels like stability.
He feels like security.
He feels like safety.
Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.
“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
He repeats his reassurance over and over again.
He wants you to believe it.
And you do believe it.
Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.
“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”
“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”
“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”
He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”
“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”
Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”
“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.
“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”
“But Joel—”
“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”
He isn’t going to take no for an answer.
“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.
You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”
“I am. Thank you, Joel.”
“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.
As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.
“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”
Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.
Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”
You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.
“S’it pretty bad?”
“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”
“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.
“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.
He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.
“Lone Star.”
“I’ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”
It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—
“Here you go, darlin’.”
Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.
He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.
Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.
“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”
“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”
It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”
He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.
“You feelin’ alright?”
“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”
Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”
“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.
“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”
“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”
He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”
“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”
Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.
But he does answer, because he does know.
“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”
He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”
He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”
“She’s wrong.”
“You don’t know what happened.”
“I don’t have to know what happened.”
“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”
Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”
Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”
“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”
You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”
“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”
You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”
“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.
“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”
You need more than just his kiss, so much more.
You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.
Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”
His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.
“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”
He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”
Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.
Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.
The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.
You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”
He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.
He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.
You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.
Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.
It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.
“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”
The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.
“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”
Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.
He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.
“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”
“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”
Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.
Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.
“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”
He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.
Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.
Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.
“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”
He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”
You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.
Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.
“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”
You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.
“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”
You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”
Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.
Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.
“Joel.”
Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.
He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”
Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.
He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”
Frantically, you nod your head.
“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”
“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”
You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.
Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”
Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”
You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.
He fucking likes being called Daddy.
“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”
You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.
“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”
You nod obediently. “Yes.”
“Yes what?” he prompts.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”
For a split second, you can’t breathe.
This man will surely be the death of you.
Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.
“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.
“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”
“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”
Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”
He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.
He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.
“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”
It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.
Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.
You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.
You’re milliseconds away from release.
“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”
His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.
One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.
“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue
You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.
You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.
Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”
You immediately snatch your hand away from him.
“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.
You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.
He offers reassurance—and an explanation.
“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”
Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”
“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.
You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.
“I’m on birth control.”
Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”
“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”
That’s all he needed to hear.
Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.
He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.
You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”
Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.
“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”
You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”
The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.
Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.
“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”
“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”
Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.
“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”
Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”
The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.
One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.
“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”
“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”
You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.
Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”
The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.
“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”
“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”
Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.
“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There’s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.
“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”
“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”
Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.
He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.
“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.
“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.
“Let me get the blanket—”
Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.
“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”
“But baby, you’re cold—”
You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.
“Just hold me. Please.”
And that’s exactly what he does.
Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.
“Joel?”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.
“Do you, now?”
You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”
Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”
Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.
He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.
You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”
“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”
divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎
#asdfghjkl BYE#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller x reader#dbf!joel#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller x y/n#joel miller au#dbf joel miller#dbf joel x reader#fic: someone to be thankful for
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2024 Senate Elections: You'd Better VOTE!
Yes it's election year yet again in America! but not just for President, almost as important will be the US Senate!
I'm not gonna lie this is a rough map for Democrats, we're playing a lot of defense in some pretty red states with even our best hopes for a pick up being pretty long shots. But even with narrow control of the Senate we've managed the biggest climate bill in American History a huge infrastructure bill thats bring high speed rail to America capped the price of insulin changed the law to allow Medicare to negotiate drug prices bring savings to everyone, and put over 160 federal judges on the bench, 2/3rds of whom are women and/or people of color the first time white men haven't been the majority of nominees by a President. So let's keep progress going by voting for, supporting, donating, and volunteering for the following candidates in the races that will decide the US Senate this year.
Arizona
Ruben Gallego (Hold)

After frustrating Democrats by repeatedly voting against major Democratic priorities, supporting the filibuster and putting donors over voters, Arizona Senator Kyrsten Sinema left the Democratic Party to become an independent in 2022. Democratic congressman Ruben Gallego was running to primary Sinema before she left the party and is now the likely Democratic nominee to unseat her and give Arizona the Democratic Senator it deserves. Gallego is a former Marine, combat veteran, Harvard grad, a former state representative, and since 2014 a member of Congress. Gallego is a member of the Progressive Caucus and is known for his blunt and combative style standing up to Republicans. In Congress Gallego has been a strong supporter of native rights advocating for tribes on health care and child welfare issues. Gallego is also the sponsor of a bill to bring about nation wide, free, all-day kindergarten which isn't available in many states. If elected Gallego would be Arizona's first hispanic Senator. Republicans hope that the Democratic vote will split between Sinema and Gallego allowing them to win this important seat. The Republican front runner is conspiracy theorist and Trump super fan, Kari Lake. Lake rose to national fame in 2021 for pushing conspiracy theories about Trump having won the 2020 election, as well as anti-mask and anti-vaccine Covid conspiracies. Lake was the Republican nominee for Arizona governor in 2022. During that campaign she ran on an aggressive anti-LGBT platform, saying she'd ban drag, and was against trans rights. Lake also is against Abortion in all cases. After losing to Democrat Katie Hobbs, Lake refused to concede, and still pushes the conspiracy theory that she's the rightful governor of Arizona. If you live in Arizona please make sure you vote, but more if you have any time between now and November, volunteer to help Gallego! and if you don't live there you can still Donate or buy a pro-choice shirt from his campaign!
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Florida
Debbie Mucarsel-Powell (Flip)

Florida's current Republican Senator Rick Scott is a right wing extremist pushing dangerous ideas even by the standards of the Modern GOP. During his first term as Senator Scott has pushed to defund the IRS, and the Department of Education. He's sponsored bills to punish schools that allow students to use preferred pronouns, to ban affirmative action, bans teaching critical race theory, and ban trans people from women's sports. Scott is against abortion in all cases. Most alarming Rick Scott proposed a radical plan that would "sun-set" ANY and all federal laws after 5 years, including Social Security and Medicare, Scott would place all federal programs and agencies on the chopping block every 5 years for a radical Republican minority to block their renewal and leave us without Social Security, or the EPA, to name just two examples. The likely Democratic nominee is former Congresswoman Debbie Mucarsel-Powell. Born in Ecuador, Mucarsel-Powell immigrated to the US when she was 14 and had work to help support her family. When she was elected to Congress in 2018 she became the first South American born immigrant and first person of Ecuadorian heritage to be elected to Congress. In Congress Mucarsel-Powell was a member of the Progressive caucus, she fought to expand medicare, and secured $200 million for Everglades restoration. After a narrow defeat in 2020 Mucarsel-Powell joined the gun control advocacy group Giffords to fight for gun control a personal issue for her after her father was murdered when she was 24. If you're in Florida please make sure you vote, and Volunteer to help remove on of the most extreme Senators, If you're not in Florida you can help Debbie win by donating.
VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE
Michigan
Elissa Slotkin (hold)

Long time Democratic Senator Debbie Stabenow is retiring this election, so there will be a tough fight for control of this important swing state Senate seat. The likely Democratic nominee is Congresswoman Elissa Slotkin. Slotkin is a former CIA analyst, after retiring from the CIA she worked in the State and Defense departments during the Obama administration. Slotkin was first elected to Congress in 2018 winning and being re-elected in a tough swing district. In Congress she's fought for common sense gun control, supported the cap on insulin prices and Medicare drug price negotiation, she helped pass a law on drug price transparency, she championed the CHIP act to bring high tech manufacturing jobs back to America, and was a big supporter of Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Slotkin is centering a pro-choice message in her campaign as well as gun control and bring down medical costs. Who the Republicans will pick isn't totally clear, it seems like it's between Former Congressman Mike Rogers and former Detroit Police chief James Craig. Craig ran for Michigan governor in 2022 before he was disqualified for fraudulent signatures on his nominating petition. Craig has listed cutting off US support to Ukraine as one of his top priorities, and endorsed Trump's 3rd run for President early in the primaries. Mike Rogers is also trying to win over Trump voters and has attacked the rights of LGBT students in schools calling it "social engineering". If you live in Michigan make sure to get out and vote, and also volunteer! And for everyone outside the state you can donate or buy some merch.
VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE SHOP
Montana
Jon Tester (re-elect)

In most contexts Montana is a deep red state going for Trump in 2020 57% to 40%. This makes the reelection of Montana's only Democratic member of Congress and only statewide elected Democrat, Jon Tester maybe the toughest election for Democrats this year. A Senator since he was first elected in 2006 Tester has won a series of upset wins in Montana over the years. A 3rd generation farmer Tester has been as strong for small farmers and ranchers in Washington. Tester has always been a champion of accountably and transparency in government pushing ethnics and campaign finance reforms. Tester is rated one of the most effective senators and managed to pass more bills last year than any one else in Congress. He's never been afraid to stand up for the Democratic side even if it'd be an unpopular vote in Red Montana. Tester voted to impeach Trump twice, and he voted against all 3 of Trump's nominees to the Supreme Court. He supported President Obama on The Affordable Care Act and Dodd-Frank, and has supported President Biden on the Inflation Reduction Act and Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Republicans seem likely to nominate right wing influencer and former Navy SEAL Tim Sheehy. Sheehy promises to get drag queens out of schools and the Lord's Prayer in to the classroom. He also hopes to repeal Obamacare calling for a "total privatization" of health care and made statements against the very idea of health insurance, insisting people should pay full price at point of use. If you're a Montanan make sure to vote to re-elect a champion of the little guy, and also volunteer! if you're not please think of donating what you can, if you can only give to one campaign this cycle this one, or Ohio are the most important!
VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE SHOP
Nevada
Jacky Rosen (re-elect)

First elected to Congress in 2016 Jacky Rosen moved up to the Senate in 2018. In her first term as a Senator Rosen has championed green energy for Nevada. Together with fellow Democratic Nevada Senator Catherine Cortez Masto, Rosen has gotten millions for solar manufacturing in Nevada as well as millions to replace the state's school buses with electric, and programs to study new groundbreaking green technology. Senator Rosen has been a supporter of gun control, is in favor of banning assault weapons. She sponsored a bill, the Background Check Expansion Act, that would require background checks for all gun sales closing loopholes for on-line sales and gun shows. Rosen is pro-choice and has sponsored a bill to protect doctors from being prosecuted across state lines for providing reproductive care, and is a co-sponsor of a bill to codify Roe V. Wade into federal law. Rosen will likely face Republican celebrity and army veteran Sam Brown. Brown ran and lost a race for the Texas State House in 2014 and ran and lost for Nevada's other Senate seat in 2022. Brown stated he was in favor of getting rid of the Departments of Education, Transportation, and Energy. Brown is against Red Flag gun laws that allow police to temporarily remove fire arms from the home of someone deemed a danger to themselves or others. Brown also has refused to say if he supports a national abortion ban, but does say he's pro-life and wouldn't support any judges that weren't. If you live in Nevada make sure to get out to vote and volunteer to protect the state's green future and the right to reproductive care. If you're not in Nevada consider donating or buying some merch.
VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE SHOP
Ohio
Sherrod Brown (re-elect)

Ohio together with Montana represents the toughest re-elect for Democrats this year. The state went for Trump twice, elected a right wing radical, JD Vaince, to the Senate in 2022 and has had a Republican governor since 2010. To complicate thing more Democrat Sherrod Brown is one of the most progressive members of the Senate, regularly scoring along side Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren for the most left wing in the Senate. From the time he was first elected to Congress in 1992 Brown refused to take the Congressional Health Insurance until all Americans could be covered. Brown first supported a Medicare for all bill in 2006 and has supported different efforts to expand Medicare and health coverage. He was a key supporter of the Children Health Insurance Program (CHIP). Brown is a strong supporter of unions and has struggled his whole career to protect unionized manufacturing jobs in Ohio. He was one of the first Senators out on the picket line during the UAW strike of 2023. Brown's hard work has help make Ohio the center of a new booming lithium battery manufacturing in America, a green manufacturing future for the state. Republicans look likely to nominate former used car dealer and father-in-law of Republican Congressman Max Miller, Bernie Moreno. Moreno's main qualification seems to be having been endorsed by Donald Trump. He lists among his priorities "End Socialism in America" and "End Wokeness and Cancel Culture". If you're in Ohio make sure to vote to re-elect a progressive giant and volunteer too! If you live out of Ohio donate, if you're looking for the race where your dollar will matter the most, this one or Montana guys.
VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE
Pennsylvania
Bob Casey Jr. (re-elect)

First elected in 2006 Bob Casey famously beat incumbent Republican homophobe Rick Santorum by 17 points. Since first entering the Senate Casey has moved leftward on a number of issues. First elected as a pro-Gun Democrat since 2012 Casey has sponsored a number of bills to expand background checks, ban assault weapons, ban extended magazines, and well as supporting mental health funds for victims of gun violence. For a number of years Casey was called the last pro-life Democrat in the Senate, however in 2022 he came out in support of Roe V Wade and voted twice on bills that would have codified the right to an abortion into federal law. Casey voted against all 3 of Trump's Supreme Court picks and has long supported Planned Parenthood's contraception efforts with federal funds, seeing easily available birth control as key to reducing the number of abortions. In 2021 Casey published a plan he called "The Five Freedoms for America's Children" modeled after FDR's famous speech. He proposed automatically enrolling all kids in Medicaid, an expanded child tax cut, a federally supported college fund for all kids who's parents make under $100,000, expanded free school meals, more funds for head start and abuse prevention programs. Republicans are rallying behind Mitch McConnell's hand picked candidate, hedge fund CEO David McCormick. McCormick worked for the Bush administration during Bush's second term. McCormick's wife Dina Powell also worked for the George W. Bush administration and was a senior aid to Trump as well. If you're in Pennsylvania make sure to get out and vote for a solid Democrat out to solve child poverty in America and keep the Hedge Fund guy from Connecticut out, and Volunteer if you can. Remember you can donate where ever you are.
VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE SHOP
Texas
Colin Allred (flip)

Texas is currently represented by likely the most hated man in Washington, Ted Cruz. Republicans hate him, Democrats hate him more, he has a very punchable face, he might be the zodiac killer (thats a joke and meme). From shutting down the government in 2013 to try to overturn Obamacare, to leading the charge in Congress to overturn the 2020 election on January 6th Ted Cruz is a greatest hits of the worst parts of the Republican Party of the last 10 years. When Texas lost power in the middle of a historic ice storm in 2021 Ted Cruz and family ditched the state to go on vacation in Mexico, classy. Cruz in the Biden years has cast himself as a culture warrior fighting against "woke" publishing a book "Unwoke: How to Defeat Cultural Marxism in America" in 2023 to kick off his re-election campaign. Texas is a traditionally red state but things are starting to shift and in 2018 Cruz narrowly won re-election over Beto O'Rourke. Democrats hope with the right candidate they can turn Texas blue and beat the most hated Senator in America. Democrats think Congressman Colin Allred is the man for the job. Allred is a former NFL Linebacker for the Titans. After the NFL he went on to get his law degree from UC Berkeley, and work in the Obama administration. Allred was first elected to Congress in 2018, unseating a Republican who'd been in office since 1997 and becoming the first Democrat to represent the area in Congress since 1968. In Congress Allred has supported bills to expand voting right and protect abortion rights, as well as gun control. In the Senate he promises to address Texas' shaky power grid and make sure Texas is never left in the dark again with its leaders missing. Lets do this Texas, make blue Texas a reality if you live in Texas remember to vote and volunteer, if you're an American who hates Ted Cruz you can donate to make in unemployed.
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Wisconsin
Tammy Baldwin (re-elect)

When Tammy Baldwin first ran for Congress in 1998 she was the first openly gay person elected to the US House and the first open Lesbian to serve in Congress. In 2012 she became the first openly gay person elected to the US Senate and the first Lesbian to be a Senator, she is still the only openly gay Senator. Through out her time in office Baldwin has been a tireless voice for LGBT rights, in 2022 she helped spear head the passage of the Respect for Marriage Act to help protect gay marriage, she's also a sponsor of the Equality Act to protect all LGBT people from discrimination. Baldwin is a progressive who was a member of the House Progressive caucus, opposed the Iraq War and supported impeaching Dick Cheney. In the House she introduced bills for a single payer healthcare system in 2000, 2002, 2004, and 2005. In the Senate Baldwin is regularly listed as one of the most progressive members, voting against tax cuts for the rich, supporting a bill to require companies to have workers on their boards, she sponsored a bill to create a public option in Health Care, and has supported gun control efforts. The Republican field to challenge Senator Baldwin is uncertain, but former Milwaukee sheriff David Clarke dominates the polls if he decides to run. Clarke's sheriff's department is accused a number of human rights violations from his time as sheriff, including allowing a prisoner to die of dehydration after 6 days without water in the Milwaukee County Jail. Clarke is a Trump super fan who has pushed conspiracy theories about mass shootings being fake, attacked Black Lives Matter, called Planned Parenthood "Planned Genocide", and called for the mass detention without trial of Americans because he believed there were a million ISIS supporters in America. If you're in Wisconsin make sure to get out and vote for a trailblazing icon and also volunteer if you can, all Americans can donate and support Baldwin wherever they are.
VOTE VOLUNTEER DONATE SHOP
If you're an American citizen and will be 18 years old (or older) by November 5th 2024, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! make sure you're registered to VOTE please check Vote.Org to find out what you need to do, what deadlines there are and act NOW
If you're an American living outside the US, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO VOTE. Please checkout Vote From Aboard they have literally all the information you need to get registered and get your ballot wherever in the world you are, and Check out Democrats Abroad to take part in the global primary
Where ever you live in the US, there is an important life changing election happening! Get off your phone or computer and get involved, There are Events happening all around you right now Volunteer
Finally if you're a US citizen of any age any where on earth you can donate, donate to elect Biden/Harris donate to elect Democrats to the Senate, To the House, to Governorships, to local office
and the smallest thing you can do is reblog this very long post, thank you!
#2024 elections#politics#american politics#us politics#voting#democrats#Joe Biden#Republicans#donald trump#go vote
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SAVE YOUR TEARS
type written fic (no part 2 request pls)
pairing lewis hamilton x driver!reader
summary you need a distraction and your teammate is the perfect person for that
word count 3.7k
warnings 18+. smut. nsfw. porn with oh so little plot and even little feelings. unprotected sex. rough sex. emotional sex. prone bone then missionary (idk i tried), praise kink. hints of depression, self doubts etc etc idk lmk what i missed. english is not my first language.
author's note self-indulgent if u couldn't tell from the warnings. that's it. sorry.
masterlist

lewis didn't expect you to turn up in front of his hotel room tonight night, face wet with tears staining your cheeks, lips trembling as you held back a sob.
nor was he expecting you to ever utter these words to him.
"i need you to fuck me."
lewis' lips parted, unable to get any words out, too shocked by your sudden request. he has a million different questions appearing in his brain all at once. what the hell is happening? why are you crying? who did this to you? and why on god's green earth did you just ask him to— he couldn't even repeat it to himself. it didn't feel real, didn't even sound like you were asking. pleading, more like it, in pure desperation.
he calls your name softly, like he's trying to wake you up from a dream. his thick eyebrows tie together in confusion. "what are you—"
"please...." you cut him off, the last syllable getting more inaudible as it trails away. tears beginning to fill up your eyes again before they drop, reaching your jaw and fall to the floor.
lewis has never seen you like this, and he's pretty sure nobody else on the grid or the public did either. his teammate whom in his eyes, the one who always got her shit together. he's almost jealous at how composed you always presented yourself to be, on and off track, never letting any unwanted criticisms by fans or media from getting to you, always quick to shut them down cleverly. the last person anybody could ever take down, mentally.
then he realized, that he held you to such a high standard to the point where he had forgotten that you were still just a human. it's only a matter of time before you break and if lewis personally had his moments where he was at his lowest, he couldn't imagine being in your shoes right now.
everything immediately clicked for lewis right there and then. he had never invited a girl inside so fast, never undressed her so quickly.
"what's your safe word?" he asks, needing to know before he proceeds.
"pancake."
lewis nods. he was about to crash his lips against yours when you put your hand on his clothed chest to stop him firmly, almost clenching your hand on his shirt, head turn away slightly.
"no," you refused.
kissing means this would get personal. complicated. and you do not want complications in the future. this is not going to be a love-making session. this is going to be lewis fucking you hard until your eyes roll back and your vision turns white. until the thickness of his cock makes your hollow soul lights up again. until you feel alive from his hand around your throat.
nothing else.
and that's exactly what he's doing right now. no kissing. he immediately understood it from the minute you refused his lips, getting what this is going to be.
lewis' tattooed hand fists on your shirt hard as he avoids your lips and kisses your neck instead, finding those spots that make your knees buckle and focuses particularly on there. you remove his hair tie, and tangle your fingers with his braids. he groans, his hair a particular sensitive part on his body. his thick lips travel lower to lay kisses along your collarbone. no marks either, he doesn't need to be told that.
though for some reason he does not understand, it is suddenly quite hard to resist himself from leaving purple bites on your skin. not when he had someone like you in his arms whom he had found beautiful since the first time his eyes laid in you.
no, lewis tells himself silently. this is not about you. this is about her. she's struggling. there's a demon that she needs to defeat and she needs your help. so help her.
you find yourself walking in reverse as he advances towards you, before your back hits the soft mattress of his hotel bed.
"yes." you say, already breathless, letting him know this is exactly how you want it. no tip-toeing, no hesitation or being overly careful, because you trust him enough to know that he knows what he should and shouldn't do, or you wouldn't have knocked in his door. you might be mentally fragile, but not your body. you need him to get to work quickly, to get you out of the mess that is currently your mind right now. he doesn't need to be gentle, because all you desire is the exact opposite.
lewis does not respond. instead he takes off your shirt and bra, throwing them somewhere on his floor without caring where they land. you do the same with his. lewis climbs over you, leaving neither of you time to admire one another's half naked bodies. nothing to gawk over. this is not what you came here for and lewis was quick to understand that.
his lips were fast to attack your bare chest next. his tongue swirls over your nipple, coating it with his spit before sucking hard, creating sounds as lewd as your moans right now. he also groans silently, the vibration sending more waves of pleasure inside you. he lets you gather his braids to press his face harder on your breast while one of his hands went to grope on the other, flicking your already sensitive nipple before giving it the same attention with his tongue. your back arches, and you find yourself pressing both your thighs together, desperate for relief on your lower half.
he senses it and leaves your chest. he pulls down your pants next, then your panties. you catch the way he visibly swallows at the sight of your dripping pussy, his own cock starting to throb in need.
"tell me what you need," he asks breathlessly, his voice huskier than usual, making your walls clench around nothing.
"your fingers." you answer without hesitation. the rational part of your brain manages to slip through, making you wonder for a split second just what made you so bold tonight, demanding all sort of things you never even had the courage to ask anybody.
maybe it's demons in your head, the one you are desperate to get rid off so you are forcing yourself to do the absolute craziest, just to feel like your old self again.
lewis nods. part of him is still in disbelief over what is currently happening but he tries to leave it at the back of his head. you let him spread your legs with ease and he doesn't waste any time to slide his digit smoothly over your fold to gather your arousal, earning a sharp gasp from you. he spits on your cunt, his saliva mixes with your wetness before he pushes.
still he was careful, only using one finger for now. he's well aware of the thickness of his digits and not sure how much you can take if he immediately adds more.
"m-more." you're whimpering already and the sound goes straight to lewis' dick, forcing him to take a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm his twitching cock.
but it's difficult. this is lewis hamilton, seven times formula 1 world champion. the greatest of all time. admire by billions. and yet when he has a pretty girl like you underneath him, at his mercy, your beautiful cunt clenching hard around his fingers, suddenly lewis is just a normal man. one who is not sure how much longer he can hold himself from claiming you all for himself.
lewis takes a deep breath. this is not about you, he tells himself again. you need to listen to her. give her what she needs. you can get any girl to come to your hotel room for fucking, and yet she only has you, the only man she clearly feels safe enough to ask of this.
"faster." you ask and lewis starts to deliver, pushing your legs apart even further before his hand picking up its pace, until the only sounds in the room are your ragged moans and the slickness of your cunt.
you are gorgeous. absolutely breathtaking, lewis thinks to himself. the way your face is flushed, sweat staining all over your face and neck. how your figure, hypnotizing as if it was blessed by aphrodite herself writhe underneath him, chasing that high. sinful moans and whimpers from your lips, enchanting his ears, making him curl his fingers until they find that one spot inside that makes you only whine louder, addicted into finding even more ways to earn those sounds from you. your legs part even wider as if not getting enough, silently begging for more than just his fingers.
"fuck...." lewis cannot help but groan. he sees the way your breath is getting shorter, more ragged. following his own impulses, lewis stops, withdrawing his hand from you.
you whine shamelessly at the sudden emptiness. you look up, watching lewis licking your arousal clean from his lips. the sight should be dirty, should make your pussy pulses in lust but instead your brain is protesting, head thrown back on the mattress in frustration. no, no, no, no, the brain says. you were far from reaching your peak since lewis had just started fingering you but you were at bliss at how preoccupied your mind was, having no room to think about anyting but his fingers inside you.
the insecurities starting to come back. the demon has gone back to work, playing in your ears and whispering doubts into you again.
maybe lewis is regretting this. he thinks you're sick in the head and he wants you to leave. he's going to tell the team—
"you're gonna come on my cock only."
oh—
oh.
you don't have time to be dumbfounded when lewis gets off the bed to remove his pants, eyes stay on yours. a hiss leaves his lips as he wraps his hand around himself, pumping his rock hard cock that already leaks with pre-cum while keeping his lustful gaze on you the entire time before he gets back to the bed to you.
your mouth almost waters at the visual. yes, you came to his hotel room, crying, begging him to fuck you. and yet it's unbelievable to see lewis like this. the champion, feared by the rest of the grid, respected by the whole wide world, is currently hard and throbbing in front of you. for you.
your cunt is wet again, pulsing around air thinking about just how he'd fit himself inside you but before you could do anything, he flips you flat onto your stomach. you yelp, caught off-guard by his sudden action. the mattress dips as his knees sink into it on either side of your body. he grabs his pillow before shoving it under your belly.
condom is on and when you feel his tip pressing against your entrance, you gasp silently, already gripping the sheets.
"we can stop if you want." he says, lowering his voice down to a softer tone, giving you a way out. he's willing to ignore the way his dick twitches, begging to be taken care of, if you desire to stop. but instead....
"n-no." you shake your head fast, voice shaky but with a hint of firmness behind it. "no, i don't want to stop. please."
"what do you need then? tell me exactly."
"i don't want to think. please, just— use me. i don't care. don't be gentle. i want it hard. i need it rough."
part of lewis regrets that he asked because holy fucking shit. sweet baby jesus. he doesn't recognize the sound that he makes, deep from his chest, filled with lust after hearing your dirty, desperate request.
on one hand, he's more than happy to fulfill your desire, knowing this is just going to be sex and nothing more. it's easier for the both of you in the future, knowing that this is a one time thing and absolutely no feelings would be involved.
but on the other hand, though lewis presents himself to the public and media as the calm and collected person you'd see on TV, but like every other man, he has his own wants and needs as well. and you have absolutely fucking idea what the hell you had just woken up inside him.
"fuck. fuck, you can't just fucking say that. you're fucking killing me, baby girl."
you moan at the nickname, then the volume becomes louder when you feel him pushing himself inside you slowly, one palm on a side of your head while the other is gripping your hip so fucking hard no doubt it'll bruised tomorrow.
you want it to bruise. and you know what you just asked of him. it's nothing like you had ever asked of a man before. to take you like a ragdoll for him to be used, to be toyed with whenever his please. to use you like you exist only and solely for his pleasure. because the thoughts that you are having about yourself are way worse. you want it to bruise, to hurt. you want to still be able to feel him for days. to have difficulties to walk so you will always be reminded of tonight. because at least your mind will be distracted from wandering to places you have been working so hard to avoid again.
lewis slides in easily but the stretch burns. you whine, fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly as you try to breathe properly in order to relax yourself so you can accommodate to his size, which is bigger than anyone you had ever taken. what he lacks in height, he certainly makes up for it in his length.
when he's fully inside, lewis gathers your hair before yanking it hard, making your neck arches back and you cry out. the pain in your scalp is weirdly delicious, combines with how he's making you feel so full having his dick deep inside, unmoving.
"say thank you." lewis demands, his tone no longer kind amd gentle like before, goosebumps prickle all over your skin. you never heard him using that kind of tone during work, never even imagine that he'd be the type to sound like that in bed. "thank me for fucking you."
"t-thank you."
"louder." he bottoms out before slamming into you hard, pulling a loud gasp from you.
"thank you!" you choke out.
lewis starts out slow at first, looking for the right pace. he remembers how you want it but he's not going to give it right away, out of care and of course pettiness.
but as he continues, he couldn't help but craving to hear more of those sweet bits of noises that you keep making. to hear the way your breath hitches at how he's filling you up to the brim, at how good he's fucking you.
lewis lowers his body, caging your body from behind but still careful not to crush you completely with his weight as his pace increases, ramming his cock inside you, his restraint getting thinner.
"take it. you want me to fuck you so bad? fucking take it. you asked for this." he grunts, and you whimper with no shame left in you. it's difficult to care, not when you could feel yourself getting dumber on his dick, which is exactly what you were asking for. and all this couldn't be more perfect.
lewis' movements grow harder, rougher by the minute. your moans mixed with his and the sound of his hips snapping against your ass echoes to the entire room. you wish you could be quiet, knowing that this whole hotel is rented by your entire team. but the way lewis is fucking you is making you do the exact opposite. you know he wouldn't want you to be quiet either, the mechanics be damned.
it's starting to be too much. nails digging into the bedsheet, you find your body inching forward. you are not sure if you are trying to run away or get closer to him but when lewis notices this, he grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. his teeth nibbles against a specific spot under your earlobe, pulling another whine out of you.
"you can take it. fuck— good girls take what they asked for. you can do it."
your cunt somehow gets even wetter with his filthy words, at how his accent thickens, voice gets deeper and more hoarse. your pussy shouldn't be squeezing around his dick at his praises, but it did. and the grunts he lets out making it all worth it.
when he hits that sweet spot inside you that no other man has ever quite managed to find, your eyes roll back in ecstasy. you gasp, tears starting to fall again at the sweet pleasure you're experiencing.
the sex is perfect, you know lewis wouldn't disappoint. but your demon is back, suddenly haunting you and making you feel terrible about yourself again.
"what the hell do you think you're doing? oh, that's right. you wasn't. you aren't. you're just a dumb bitch making herself even dumber on this pathetic cock. if only you could see yourself. absolutely shameless. what a whore. begging for this man to fuck you like you never seen a dick before. nothing will ever be the same ever again. he will never look you in the eyes, he'll think of you differently. why didn't you just—"
lewis suddenly stops.
the voices do too, and you are left in confusion. his grip on your wrist is gone now and you didn't even notice. you turn your head, only to see him pulling out.
no. oh, no. no, no, no. the voices were right. he's pulling away. he's regretting this. he's gonna ask you to leave, isn't he?
"can i turn you on your back?" he asks instead.
silence from you for a few seconds before you let out a quiet "what?" before lying on your back on your own. you remove the pillow from under your belly and set it aside.
"you were crying." he points out, brows furrowing as a shadow of concern illuminating his handsome face.
you swallow. you were hoping he wouldn't notice and even if he did, he'd thought that it was because you were enjoying yourself this. the fact that he knows it was the opposite tells you that he knows there are million different things running in your mind right now and you hate it.
"y-yeah but it wasn't— not because of you."
pause. "you want me to slow down?"
again, you shake your head fast.
"i'm okay. please." you hate how quickly you beg for him again.
it's lewis' turn to swallow, his eyes darken slightly at your pleading. he nods before crawling back to you, determined to pick up where he left off, trusting that you will know what to say if you truly desire for him to stop completely.
he grabs one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist before bringing the other to his shoulder. you bite your lip at the way his gaze never wavers from you, making you wonder if he fucks every other girls like this.
no. fuck. stop it. why do you even care?
lewis takes his dick before burying himself inside you once more slightly easier this time. you can't help but moan and thanking him again.
he is slow again at first but it isn't long before his cock slams back at the perfect pace, the sound of skin against skin once again filling up this suite. your whimper mixed with his hisses when you claw on his tattooed back, pulling him closer.
lewis leaves kisses all over your leg, wherever he could reach before his hand sneaks up to fiddle and squeeze your bouncing tits.
you didn't expect him to wipe your tears next.
your eyes locked with his. he continues fucking you but it feels as if time has stopped. he has that look behind the lust that screams sympathy. pity. you hate it but at the same you don't push his hand away, letting him cup your face momentarily. but even lewis doesn't let this gesture happens for too long, always remembering the point of having you underneath him.
it doesn't take long until you feel an invisible knot in your lower belly. you're panting now, almost reaching your peak. lewis realizes this and he fucks you harder, his hand travels down to rub your clit.
"i'm—"
"i know, sweetie," he says, breathless as well. he lowers his body, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and kissing it all over as he feels his own orgasm nearing. "come for me."
a few more thrusts, and you see white. your mouth is agape as you moan silently. his grunt and groans is music to your ears as he spills himself inside the condom.
silence.
lewis never realized how much he needed this as well. not just the sex, but the connection, which he knows is insane to find with someone like you in circumstances like this but what just happened felt different. to be so close with someone he actually knows and not just another girl he calls to his room, not even bother to learn her name.
before he could gather his breath, he feels your body underneath him slipping out. his eyes feels heavy but he tries to hold on, watching you collecting your clothes and dressing back up.
"what are you—"
"that was really great. thank you." was all you said before you left, in a hurry like you refuse to spend another minute in the same room with lewis.
while the man is still on the bed, naked. he hasn't even removed his condom yet. a sigh escapes his lips, lying flat on the bed before staring at the white ceiling.
he did what you asked for, and he could only hope that you would feel better tomorrow morning.
and yet why does his heart suddenly aches, not having you in his arms anymore?
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 smut#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x oc#f1#f1 smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 x oc#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x driver reader#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x oc#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton x driver reader#lewis hamilton x driver!reader
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A Moment In Time
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff
Warning(s): Mentions of neglect, verbal abuse, and self-doubt.
Word Count: 1,074
A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time getting back into writing fanfic since 2016 LMAOOO. Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is pure shit so pls feel free to give me constructive criticism. AND PLEASE TELL ME IF THERE'S MISTAKES CUZ THATS EMBARRASSING HAHA. Also writings cringe as hell so soz.
Chapter 1: Happy Birthday | Chapter 2: Distant Memories

The Wayne resident felt empty, soulless, cold, and you couldn't bare the stillness of it all. So you step out onto the balcony, coffee in hand with the chilling air biting at your fingers harshly. You absentmindedly sipped on your coffee, the warm sensation from your cup steadily combating the freezing cold. The garden's atmosphere was filled with tranquility, the sun's rays slowly touching everything in its path.
If only it could be like this forever.
You breathe in a shaky sigh and flutter your eyes to a gentle close, small puffs of air exit your mouth as you exhale out slowly. This would be the last time you’ll be gazing down at the alluring range of flowers scattered across the garden, its colours radiating brightly from the warm sunrise as it gently caressed the horizon. You can’t help but think back to all of your greatest achievements, your not so finest moments, and the bitter reminder of lonely memories that are left dormant inside your mind.
What more could I have done? Why didn’t I try harder? Why? Why, why, why, wh-
“Young (Name)? Are you alright? It’s cold out there, you should come back inside, where it’s warm.” Your eyes snap back open and you turn your body to face your family butler, Alfred. You blink, then you blink again, until you sputter out your reply with a wobbly smile. “Alfred! I’m- I’m fine, I just wanted to have my coffee out on the balcony.” ‘one last time’.
You turn to breathe in the fresh air for the final time before leaving the balcony area in silence. Today is your 18th birthday, and yet it doesn’t feel like it. A birthday is supposed to be a milestone, something to be celebrated with friends and family, with loved ones.
You shake yourself out of your stupor, a shudder leaves your lips, the icy temperature sending chills throughout your body. You find yourself sitting down near the kitchen table, your lukewarm coffee still in hand. And Alfred all but quietly makes your favourite breakfast, just how you’ve liked it for the last 18 years of your life. It’s been hard, you think to yourself. The unwarranted isolation from Bruce, the hurtful, cut-throat words thrown towards you from Damian as if you were a burden, the excuses from Dick, claiming he already had plans made so “Maybe next time! Yeah?”. And you remember so vividly of Jason pushing you away, as if the bond you two shared didn’t matter anymore. The fond memories, the time spent together, gone, just like that after he had died.
And how could you forget about Tim? Or about Cass, Barbara, Stephanie, and Duke? None of them rarely ever put in the effort to spend even a fraction of their time with you. But it doesn’t matter to you, right? No, not even a single bit, you don’t care anymore; of course you don’t care! Because you’re done, you’re done being in the shadows, done being stuck within those four tiny walls that had been called ‘your room’, and done with not being anyone's choice, especially not even your fathers.
Even so, that's not true is it? You can lie to everyone else, but you can’t lie to yourself. You do care, and it stings because you’ve been caring up until you forced yourself not to anymore.
With your heart held heavy in your chest, an indescribable ache creeps up your throat as you recount the gut-wrenching memories that you struggle to desperately shake from your head, your now empty cup sits cold on the table in front of you.
“Breakfast served.” Alfred slides a plate of your favourite in front of you. Your lips are stretched into a light smile, yet it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thank you Alfred..” You say before the both of you are engulfed in comfortable silence. You eat your breakfast at a comfortable pace, savouring the delectable taste that fills your mouth before inevitably finishing your breakfast. Your family's butler busies himself by cleaning the kitchen counter, wiping it down with careful precision before moving down to wipe down the very kitchen table you sit at. “Hey, uhm Alfred?” You speak up before you can even stop yourself, the words stumbling out in a fervent storm.
“Will you miss me when I move out?” Alfred can only stop and look at you, really look at you. And from the looks of it, you appear collected, indifferent even, but to your butler he notices nearly everything about you. The way you play with your hair when you’re nervous, or how you fiddle with your fingers when you’re uncomfortable and the slight furrow of your eyebrows as you concentrate. So you can’t help but shrink just a little at his expression, his features showing no emotion for you to understand what he’s feeling.
“I know you’re busy assisting the families business with… their nightly duties and... and I realise I’ve been such a burden to you and the family, but I know I’ll miss you the most out of everyone so-”
you’re abruptly cut off by the shuffling of Alfred’s feet walking towards you, his arms enveloping you into a hug. A hug that was desperately needed and long overdue. You reciprocate Afred’s action’s and tightly wrap your arms around him, your hands scrunching up Alfred’s uniform because of how hard your hands are balled up into fists. You’re stunned, too puzzled to speak as Afred’s begins to speak.
“You will be missed dearly Young [Name]. You’re smile, you’re creativity, you’re ideas, our time together; I’ll miss all of these things, those moments that we have.” a pleasant warmth settles within you, Alfred’s hand makes its way to the back of your head, bringing you to his chest as he pats gently. It’s barely audible but it's there, a small sniffle once, twice, then a series of them start to fill the empty rooms' quietness. Tears start to well up within your tear ducts except you refuse to let them fall despite a few already running down your face. You cry, you just feel so scattered and a bit of a mess right now as your tears and snot stain Alfred's clothes.
You let yourself be in the moment, you let down your walls and stripped away the hard exterior around your heart. You’re vulnerable and… it feels great.
For once you feel relieved. Happy.
Credit to @adornedwithlight!
End Note: Just to rephrase, this is my first time getting back into writing fan-fiction so I'm rusty asf lol. And any writers that have been doing this for way longer than me, please give me some tips or advice on how I can improve my own writing LMAOO.
#platonic relationships#batfam#batfamily#x reader#platonic batfam#platonic reader#neglected reader#dc universe#dick grayson#bruce wayne#jason todd#damian wayne#tim drake#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#duke thomas#alfred pennyworth#platonic batfam x reader#batfam x reader#batfam x neglected reader
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Some Fun
warnings: smut ofc!, dub con, intercourse, and cum eating.
Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing.
Billy Loomis x fem!reader
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Masterlist
Written: July 17th, 2024- August 4th, 2024
Published: August 4th, 2024
Summary: Billy wants to have some fun with you.
wc: 1,599
request: ok so it's the end of the movie and billy decided to fuck reader instead of killing reader.
“Oh, don’t think we’ve forgot about you, Y/n” Billy teasingly said as he pointed the knife at me. “Please- I didn’t do anything! Please Billy! I’m begging you, don’t kill me!” I pleaded to him on my knees. It was like he was secretly getting off to it.
Him and Stu were both a bunch of sick fucks.
“Tell me…why should I not kill you?” He asked me. I don’t know? Maybe because I want to see my future?! I didn’t answer him but instead I looked around the kitchen and the doorways to see if Stu was around. He was no where in sight..so I ran for it.
I hurried up the stairs but Billy was hot on my trail. As he was running up the stairs after me I grabbed the glass vase and threw it at him to slow him down. And it did slow him down, I ran into Stu’s parents room and locked the door. As soon as I ran into the room I saw Sidney’s body.
She was dead. My best friend was dead. Her throat had been slit along with stab wounds in her stomach, she didn’t deserve to go out like that. I fell down to the ground to hug her one last time.
As I gave her a kiss to the forehead, I was met with Stu rushing out of the closet grabbing me from behind. He was laughing as I was kicking and screaming. “Let me go!” I shouted. “Now why would I do that?” He questioned with his head tilted.
Before I answered him I broke down in tears. “I didn’t do anything to you two! Please! Just let me live, I won’t call the cops! I’ll keep it a secret!” I pleaded. “We both know that’s not true, sweetheart” Stu said as he gripped my jaw. “Ounch!”
He pulled me out of his parents room and dragged me into his bedroom where Billy was waiting. He was sat on Stu’s bed smoking a cigarette but soon blew it out when I was thrown on the bed next to him. As I sat up, Billy traced my cheek with his blood covered hand and I was shaking in fear.
“You can leave now” Billy said to Stu, not even acknowledging him. It was now Just Billy and I in the room. The silence was so loud and so scary. Was he about to murder me next?
“You’re pretty, you know that?” It sounded as if it was a question but I didn’t answer. “I’ve always wanted you Y/n. Since the first time we met in 8th grade, but you never gave me a chance” he started off as he pushed some of my hair back. “But now..I’m gonna take that chance” Billy said before he grabbed the back of my head and kissed me.
I hesitated at first but eventually gave in. I eventually pulled away from the kiss, now feeling guilty. I’m kissing the man who murdered my friends.
I tried to get up off the bed but Billy yanked me but down as I shrieked. “The hell do you think you’re going?” He asked with a glare. “This isn’t right Billy! You and Stu MURDERED our friends- I’m not doing anything with you” I explained before crossing my arms.
“The hell you are” He responded before grabbing my and pushing me roughly on the bed. “What I say goes” he sternly said as he pointed to himself. “You’re not the boss of me!” I snapped back.
He pushed my chest down with one hand so he could show his dominance.
“Be quiet!” He lowly but sternly said as he was now face to face with me.
Billy started pulling my skirt down along with my blood stained top. My face began to feel hot and tears started falling. The quiet room was now filled with my quiet sobs and Billy’s shushes.
“Hey, look at me. Don’t cry” He softly said as he gave me another kiss. He soon leaned down and started placing kisses on the exposed parts of my chest. As much as I don’t wanna admit it, his kisses were turning me on, my panties were beginning to feel soaked.
Billy unhooked my bra and tossed it to the floor. He grabbed my right boob and kissed it before he sucked my nipple. I tried to hold back but a moan slipped out. “Don’t hold back, baby” he replied as I closed my eyes shut.
As he was sucking my boobs, his hands roamed free on my body before they stopped at my entrance. His thumb began rubbing small circles over my clothed clit. “Billy- please!” I whined as I gripped his wrist. He let out a dark chuckle before he answered to my whines.
“Please what? Go faster?” He said with a sinister grin. He picked up the pace and my legs began to shake. “I knew you’d like this. Dirty whore” he stated before I squirted. It was all on my panties and on the palm of his hand.
“Beautiful” he whispered as he went in to kiss my inner thighs. He pulled my panties off and in my head I kept telling myself that I don’t want it but my body was craving it.
Him, his touch, his dick…
Billy unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down along with his underwear. He pulled his dick out and I was amazed at the size. My eyes widened. He was at least 8 inches, the tip was red, the shaft was veiny, and he was leaking pre cum.
“Ya know? I was gonna stretch you out but im tired of waiting. And you haven’t been all that nice to me today” he arrogantly said, almost as if I was in the wrong. “Maybe because you murdered MY friends! Are you insane?” I shouted. I was furious at his statement. Does he not hear himself?!
He grabbed my throat tightly as he pushed himself inside. The stretch was intense yet pleasureful. He bottomed out in me as he leaned his back groaning. “Billy!” I moaned.
He pulled back out and shoved himself back in beginning to thrust. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this exact moment” he expressed. Billy removed his hand from my throat and began to grip my hips.
I started moaning loudly, there’s no point of bothering to hide the pleasure anymore. I’m already wet. “Good girl” he grunted. His thrusts soon began to get rough and the sound of our skin clapping against each other filled the room.
His balls slapped abasing my clit and to be completely honest this is the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. I was filled with lust but also guilt. I was having sex with a murderer. Im just as bad as Billy and Stu.
“Mhhm you like that?” Billy moaned as he placed kissed along my neck. “Yes baby, feels- so good!” I replied as my eyes rolled back. He grabbed my legs and pushed them all the way back until they touched my ears.
His dick was digging deeper than it was before with this new angle. And I loved it. “Shit! I’m about to cum!” He moaned in my ear as whines left my throat. My legs were still pushed back as he began giving me powerful, slow thrusts. “Look at you creaming on my dick” he whispered.
“I love you’re dick so much!” I shouted as tears fell down my face. “I want this pretty pussy to cum on my dick, cmon baby, I know you can” He said in a husky voice. I don’t know but the voice just did it for me.
Suddenly the feeling in my stomach snapped and I came on his dick. “Ohh yesss” I screamed as my orgasm washed over me. Billy was still fucking me bust his thrusts got slow and sloppy, I knew he was coming to an end.
He pulled out of me and came on my stomach. I looked down and the creamy substance and he swiped some of it with his fingers and shoved them in my mouth. I sucked the cum of his fingers as his rolled back and groans slipped from his mouth.
He eventually got up and began to put his clothes back on as I covered myself with the bed sheet.
“Put you’re fucking clothes on you’re coming with us” he demanded. I didn’t want to anger him so I did as told without any back talk. I see how well that went for my friends…
As I was putting my shoes back on he walked over to me and stood in front of me. “Me and Stu are skipping town and you’re coming with us. We’re gonna go to the store, grab a couple of things, and leave” he stated.
I simply nodded my head and followed him out the room and downstairs to the front door. I was met with Randy’s dead body. He had been stabbed in his throat several times along with a bullet to the shoulder.
It took everything in me to hold my tears back. My friends were dead and I’m skipping town with their murderers..not like I had much of a choice though.
I was pulled out of my thoughts when Stu appeared next to me. “Maybe Billy will let me have some fun with you” he said with a evil smirk on his face. “Not a chance, fuck rag!” Billy replied as he shoved Stu in the shoulder. ‘Ow!” Stu winced.
#billy loomis#scream#skeet ulrich#ghostface#scream 1996#billy loomis x reader#billyloomissmut#skeetulrichxreader#skeetulrichsmut#dubc0n#dubious consent#stu macher x reader#stu macher#stu matcher x reader#billyloomisxreader#billy loomis smut#scream movies#scream franchise#scream smut#ghostface smut#slashers#slasher movies#slasher fandom#scream movie
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🏛️ emperor caracalla ; headcanons ⋆₊𐕣˚𖤐 ݁。☽



content warning: fem!reader. mentions of blood, killing and sickness, cheating, possessiveness, toxicity. idk if there’s anything else.
word count: 0.7k
author’s note: first time writing headcanons, so constructive criticism is welcomed. and english is my third language so please bear with me. i apologize for any mistake 🙏🏻 also, i’m unlocking a new obsession, so i needed to write for caracalla asap. i’m gonna write for other fred characters too because that man has me down bad. that’s it! enjoyyy! <3
emperor caracalla is a menace with an insane duality and you know that better than anyone
we have 1) mad ruler with an insatiable thirst for blood
you ALWAYS go to the games
he demands wants you there with him
(not like you have much choice being married to him)
but still, he loves to know you’re there. mostly because he actually enjoys sharing his passion and spending time with you. buuut, also because he REALLY likes to show you off. (you love seeing him all giggly clapping and yelling tho)
and let me tell you, he takes every opportunity to do so. to remind everyone that you’re his. and to brag in front of his pretty much unmarried brother.
i’m talking hand rubbing your thigh when sitting by his side (he does it absentmindedly, it’s genuinely cute), arm around your waist during feasts, sitting on his lap when watching combats, theatre or any sort of entertainment and a ton of PDA.
both of them are possessive, but he is more subtle, not as straightforward
regarding Geta, you two have an… odd relationship. he’s thankful there’s someone else to deal with his brother’s madness. but he’s suspicious of your intentions. tho jealous.
some would even say not only of the marriage itself…
caracalla knows, and absolutely feeds on it. he finally has something that belongs to him and only him
god forbid someone doesn’t get it
Dondus has grown to adore you. you’re like his other parent -he’s adopted you as such.
squeaks at you and happily climbs your arm to rest on your shoulder
loves using your braids as little ladders
and snuggling against your neck too
he’s just so cute can u tell i love him :3
anyways
and 2) sappy child
he follows you around like a puppy
you hate it when he gets overwhelmed, he tends to hide and isolate himself
you end up acting like his mother
gets insecure of his real face and keeps it from you
needs a lot of reassurance
the guards always look for you when he has an outburst
your touch and presence are the only things that ground him
LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling
clings to you like he needs you to breathe
good luck waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom 💀
play with his hair and he’s GONE
big on pet names
to you is always “my love” “my dear” “my darling” “my wife” “my empress”
emphasis on the “my”
everything’s fine with him but “sweet boy” makes him melt
and obviously “my emperor” cause it makes him feel powerful
and compliments too
spoils and pampers the shit out of you
jewels, clothes, animals, entertainers, you name it
absolutely whipped
loves kissing
now, it can’t all be a fairytale 😞
sometimes you feel like he loves Dondus more than you
and it seems that some men being forced to kill each other brings him more happiness than you ever could
he can switch from sad to angry in a matter of seconds and sometimes his sudden change of tone and expressions startles you
🚩 🚩🚩
being married to a sick man is hard
many palace servants and guards feel bad for you
paranoid
thinks you don’t love him anymore and are going to leave him quite often
obsessive
if you say something that feels ‘off’ to him get ready for an intense interrogation
possessive and extremely jealous
cause why the fuck where you laughing with some random man?
he’d threaten to kill him and would probably get rough with you
hates other people touching you
gets violent
has hurt you before during one of his fits
regrets it afterwards but has a hard time apologizing
would probably be unfaithful. i know, i hate it too 🥲
over all i think he wouldn’t be that bad of a husband, like it could be way worse
and i say he could genuinely love you, it just wouldn’t be the healthiest of loves
but you can try to fix him girl ✨✨
#Spotify#gladiator 2#gladiator ii#gladiator fanfiction#emperor caracalla#caracalla x reader#gladiator caracalla#caracalla x you#caracalla headcanons#fred hechinger#fred hechinger x reader#fred hechinger x you#gladiator 2 headcanons#gladiator ii headcanons
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the fourth wife



PAIRING. YANDERE! TENGEN UZUI & WIVES X CHUBBY READER
CONTENT WARNINGS. angst + babytrapping + dubious consent + manipulation + gaslighting + forced affection
SYNOPSIS. you never signed for this.

it is you who caught the sound hashira's interest.
tengen have come across of different women. single and married. the pretty ones and the average ones. he encountered all of them even whom he considered flashy and took his interest in the most way that will leave him wanting for more but he never made any advances to them. no matter how attractive and pleasing they are for his tastes for he is devoted to his three wives, bound by duty.
it once crossed his mind that he ought to take another wife and it would be bound by love. sure he loves his wives. adored them in the flashy way he can show it and they are the same to him but it was out of duty. a custom of his clan but what of it when he's already free of them. no rules to abide and will from his own.
he abandoned the thought of it long ago. realizing he's contented with hinatsuru, makio and suma. the relationship between them four wasn't out of love but respect and tengen likes the dynamic of it however it came crashing down on him. the long buried thought in the back of his head came surfacing once he fell in love with you.
a daughter of a humble merchant. one that supplies the goods in the rest house where he stayed in the duration of his recovery after previous missions decision that he needed to be taken care of before returning to his wives even they are more than capable of taking care of him and that's when tengen first laid his eyes in you.
first noticing the different built of your body. you were soft. soft anyone can be and tengen knew soft having three wives gave him the knowledge about the anatomy of a woman and long he burned in his mind what they looked like. you were different from it and when he lifts his gaze up. he saw the most expressive face a human can see and that's when you notice him. offering him a curt smile and then you nodded. merely acknowledging his presence and that's when tengen knew he was a goner and the thought of making you his fourth wife have come to life.
he wasted no time in finding you. introduced himself and from the looks of it you were smitten as he was to you. your parents were delighted to have a man like him who wanted to marry their daughter and so tengen asked for your hand and that's when he's about to get you accepting his proposal, you refused. much to the horror and dismay of your parents. you bowed politely to him despite the affection you have for him in a short span of time. tengen was baffled how could you refused such proposal and that's when you told him the reason and tengen knew you were right. there's no fighting about it.
at the ripe age of twenty-one. many considered that you were past of a marriageable age. growing up with friends that have married before they can reach the age of eighteen, you knew that you're not the sharing the same fate as theirs. while they started to nurse their babies and decided to follow it with an abundance of children you remained the same. deciding that you were not suited for the marriage life. liking the life as a single and your parents didn't need to worry if they desire grandchildren, your older brother have already fulfilled it and it's not like you were the attractive of the bunch of your friends. you would rather be free without being tied to a man who would criticize you for not being deemed beautiful and the standard of your time after the marriage hence your parents agreed besides they still don't want to depart their precious daughter.
tengen's too good to be true and that's the reason you knew he was married. promised and bound to someone. a man who is built like a god which is true, he introduced himself to you as a god of the festivals an attempt to woo you and that almost made you fall for him. handsome he is with his white hair and the flashy accessories he wore and those maroon eyes of his that held confidence and that eccentric personality of his which you find endearing. he's the dream of every lady and you were lucky he took interest in you and said that he was in love with you so what's the catch? he was married, not one but to three women.
he confessed it to you after you refused. calling you a smart girl for finding it out. he explained it to you that it was made by duty but what of duty when it he's already committed and he possibly can't think that you can be his wife despite his wives. you find the proposal absurd and selfish. his desire is your misery and you don't want that. the reason why you avoided being married despite the pressure have put you. your parents were not happy either. they take what they said and didn't accept his proposal despite the promise of paying a dowry just for your hand.
tengen left after that and returned home. back to hinatsuru, makio and suma where he knew he is loved and adored. he remained the same after what happened. not wanting to worry his wives who cared for his being but it doesn't miss their eyes and the feeling that their lord husband is bothered by something, someone.....
they all knew it. this marriage was duty and they played their parts on it and sooner and later their husband will fall in love someone. they knew he loved them but it was respect and that was enough for them and so then they decided to talk their lord husband about it and how right they are and accepted what tengen have said to them.
makio, suma and hinatsuru, all tengen's wives gathered in the estate's living room as they have been summoned by their husband. makio and suma are both anxious while hinatsuru remained calm but despite that he knows how their husband gets when they are all here, it must be important.
it is important. the most important of all, second to tenged and it will be their new priority. a new addition to this family of them.
and hinatsuru was right.
tengen broke the news to them. “my wives, duty bounded us all and i am proud that i have fulfilled all your needs as a husband.” the sound hashira confidently boasted about his achievements to them and it's true. tengen exceeded his duties as a husband and them as his wives. “it is i decided that i desire for a wife.”
there was a complete silence between them.
it was anticipated that this day would come. their lord husband wanting a wife that he loves. he loves them but it was out of respect and responsibility. in many years they were together not once tengen have expressed his desire for a wife that he wanted. they were chosen to be his wife and it's different for this woman that have captured their lord husband's attention. tengen have found someone who he knew he loves from the depths of his heart.
hinatsuru unconsciously grip her kimono. she knew it and it pained her that her lord husband still decided that he wants to marry again despite them three but it was his lord husband's happiness and she was happy for him. although a little hurt, she gave a reassuring smile to tengen. turning her frown upsidedown. her lord husband wishes for it and she's merely a wife to him and she would not put herself in the way of his husband even sharing him with a another woman again.
makio on the other hand wasn't too happy about it. her brows furrowed and a concentrated look in her face. makio was not trying to show his displeasure at the said news but what of it? it's not her place to say it. she doesn't have the heart to tell him and that husband face of her lord husband brimming with an unadulterated love for a woman she is yet to met. she shared her love for tengen with the other in two, what difference would it make when another join this union when it's important for her lord tengen.
suma was desperately trying not to cry but alas a few years escaped from her eyes. it wasn't her problem and he wouldn't be tengen's wife if it wasn't for her bawling her eyes out and thus, replacing her sister when they chose her as one of tengen's wives. she didn't have the right but it's too much not to think about it, knowing that if you accept they will be another contender to tengen's attention and it was you he loves.
tengen wouldn't be called their husband if he didn't care for his wives and truth be told he expected these kind of reactions from them. “my wives, there is nothing wrong to feel this way and i told you of this desire of mine for the reason i didn't want my wives to worry. i know this is hard but please meet her. you will love her like i did.” tengen said, his voice tinged with tenderness and they want to melt at the spot but if tengen was so sure of you, how could they not?
true to his words their lord tengen was. you were all what he described you as and it almost made him want to sing praises for you. they realized that you were just not going to be as someone to them. you were going to be their new partner and a wife to tengen.
they approached you while you tend to the goods in the stall you have set up. curious gazes mixed with envious stare at why someone like you have bewitched a man like their husband and then the answer was clear. when you spoke, the words they were kind. your gaze clear as the sky. pure as the water that flows in the stream. it's almost enough to made them weep.
without pretending and not being able to hide their identities to you, they have laid what they're plans for you and the future that you'll have with you in their life. the requests absurd. you were not going to be a fourth wife of someone who had already three beautiful wives and he's clearly wrong in the head to be going for you and adding you to his collection of his wives. what will be of you and you took the course of what you deemed is right. you straight out refused. you can't accept such terms. bowing your head in a respectful manner and you requested that will be the last time you're seeing the four of them.
it came true but such request like that won't be easy for them.
they were hurt but it's your right. your wish and they were made to respect that but what about tengen. it was clear that their lord husband is deeply infatuated with you. the late night departures and the talk of you. they can't resist his wishes to be with you. as selfish it can be, you were going to be tengen's. wether you like it or not.
it was simply wrong of them to force you but what can they do. the more they know you longer, the deeper they have fallen for you. never did they thought they would share tengen's affection for you. it was maddening. frustratingly ambitious. they can't imagine without you. the mere thought of it drives them crazy so they did what they know are befitting for you.
they took you. it can't be considered an accident. your home burning along with your parents perishing in the accident. no place to take shelter, no people you can confide in. they took you in. offering you with condolences that doesn't pass the intentions they have with you.
you shared a home with your suitor with his wives and it was so wrong. you can't belong in this place and with their strange arrangement. it was from hospitality they were giving to you. it was trapping you in a place. it was too late for you to leave now. their plans have come to fruition and it was decided that you're going to complete their family.
who knows you have no tolerance for sake. the liquid drawing fire down your throat as you took a sip of it. you only insisted that you're only drinking a cup but they insisted that you deserve to drink more. it's a way for you to bond with them and this is their way to get to know you more while their lord husband is away taking dangerous missions.
when you started to get more open to them. they brought the topic of you marrying tengen and you will going to be a part of the relationship. you said no but the arrangement it wasn't. withing a fortnight you were married to him. a tear escaping your eye at what have you done to yourself. you place your self in a trap with no way out but the light is the marriage is yet to be consummated. the marriage isn't valid and you clinged to that while you planned your escape.
the plan's foiled. there's no way out. hinatsuru's lips are on your neck. sucking on that sensitive that leaves you gasping. makio and suma were sucking on your nipples. their tongues swirling on your hardened buds. your legs being spread by them and you tears continuously rolled. you can't get yourself free from them.
while they busied their selves on you, you almost didn't notice tengen looming all over you four. his thick fingers spreading your pussy lips and admires your sex glistening with wetness. it was time for this marriage to be consummated. they already have planned with it.
the fat tip of his cock slowly nudges into your pulsing hole. groaning at the sensation and at the sight of his wives pleasuring the new addition of their family. you can't go now. you would belong to them after this and to make it true, his cock swiftly entered your hole and with that, there's no way out.
it was months after that, every desperate attempt of escape were prevented. you sat there emotionless while your wives simply doted on you while tengen did his duties. fawning over your pregnant belly and cooing how they can't wait to see the little one being born. they weren't jealous of you being pregnant with tengen's baby. it was the opposite. they were delighted.
such delightful event means that you can no longer escape them.
#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader#kny x reader#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#tengen uzui#tengen x reader#tengen's wives#makio uzui#makio x reader#hinatsuru uzui#hinatsuru x reader#suma uzui#anime smut#yandere x reader#yandere x chubby reader#anime x reader#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer
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A little message for mostly YouTube builders but y’all in general, I hope I’m not being too rough but..
I know it’s been just a couple of days but guys what you mean when you say you were expecting more “Mexican” style furniture in the new ep? 😭😭 y’all don’t expect us to have art deco or modern stuff? Like seriously, what do you guys want 😂 We all Mexican simmers think this new pack is very accurate, you can even ask the simmers that worked in the official builds 🤷🏻♀️
Y’all really falling over the Americanized cliché of Mexico fr, this pack is inspired in Mexico City. We are a city, the population is like 24million, we’re a really big city 💀 please leave your “villas” and “haciendas” to oasis springs or sol del valey.
Please I beg you to not come and say “oh this is not giving Mexico” cause clearly you don’t know what are you talking about, be educated fr. I said it before and I’m gonna keep talking about it; But the architectural limitations in Mexico are pretty much non-existent. We probably have every single architectural style you can think about. Modern, post-modern, brutalist, art deco, mid century, colonial, Romanesque, gothic among others, probably even Tudor 😭 so you coming and expecting us to only have the villas or colorful haciendas fiesta salsa talcos it really hurts me as Mexican 😂
I’m not hating against them, I love them and as I said we have all types of places so keep doing them if you want but that’s not really common in Mexico City. So why y’all keep going with the same villas or just straight boxes builds 😭 please do more research over than using only Pinterest please, is really not that hard 🙏🏻 there’s a lot of fellow Mexican simmers, there’s google, google maps, you can even do a research of Mexico City in airbnb 😭😭 likeeee there’s a ton of ways to get information really…. You can really step up your building game if you only do a proper research. As I’ve seen a lot of you do for other worlds, why not taking the time for Mexico? Why y’all don’t respect us as much as other cultures?:(
And I know and I understand y’all probably won’t be 100% accurate if you’re not Mexicans but that doesn’t mean you can build a Los Angeles Spanish style of home and get away with it by saying “sorry if is not that accurate” 😭 cause you’re not even trying :( Mind you I been working on a uk inspired save when I never been outside my country other than some places in Canada and Florida and I’m still doing very realistic builds just by doing some research. And I’m 100% sure almost every other realistic builder is in the same situation.
Y’all are amazing and you’re so creative, I love that about the community and I know y’all can do wonderful things if doing a really small but proper research!
And next time you wanna talk about if something is giving or not Mexican at least be educated before talking about something you don’t know, it’s honestly very disrespectful. Y’all are better than that and please don’t take this as an offense, this is more like constructive criticism. I know y’all not doing this on purpose, this is just based on ignorance which is nothing bad, you can always learn something new!🥺 please do better!!
#probably nobody cares about this but this is something very important to me so I wanted to say it anyway:(#ts4#lovestruck ep
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y/n seems to have everyone wrapped around her finger and to be quite frank, namjoon's unimpressed
➺ pairing; professor!namjoon x y/n
➺ genre; mostly sfw with a little something something at the end!! namjoon is a philosophy professor who suddenly has to share his precious lecture hall newbie professor y/n!! we all know i am a big fan of enemies to lovers/opposites attract and i love it even more when both of them are total nerds!! y/n’s approach to philosophy is so ridiculous and namjoon can’t stand her!! namjoon is so stuffy and y/n can’t stand him!! god damnit just kiss already!!
➺ wordcount; 7.2k
➺ summary; you’re the newest professor joining the university, and all of a sudden, it feels like namjoon actually has someone to compete with for the first time.
➺ what to expect; “Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you.”
➺ currently playing on cee.fm; what is this feeling? — wicked soundtrack
»»————- 📚 ————-««
namjoon isn’t a fan of change.
he’s always liked things in a particular way — he only likes notebooks with a seamless, perfect binding for the spines, he only likes ballpoint pens and never gel, he only uses traditional coloured highlighters and none of that strange, pastel-coloured junk, and he only likes to use a sandalwood scented essential oil diffuser in his apartment and his lecture hall
most of his life has been planned out (he planned out how the next twenty years of his life would go when he was ten, and according to this twenty-year plan, he’s pretty on track) and he likes it that way, so yes, he isn’t a big fan of change when it comes to such an important timeline like this
he’s currently a professor at the university he got his phd from, and because part of his twenty-year plan included going from his bachelor’s degree to his master’s degree to his doctoral degree, it means that he’s actually the youngest professor on the staff’s roster (which, again, was part of his plan all along)
he’s been teaching here for nearly two years now and has built a very solid reputation with his co-workers, he’s the school’s most sought-after professor when it comes to his philosophy classes — he teaches three undergrad classes and two graduate classes and every semester they’re always packed and students will always email him to try and get into the class when the capacity is full — and he’s pretty sure he’s getting a raise soon, which is great because he’s been meaning to splurge on a new electric tea kettle that lets you control the temperature and sings a little song when the water’s done boiling
“alright, let’s bring today’s discussion to a close.” namjoon shakes his wrist, checking the time on his watch before nodding to himself — the lecture ends in five minutes, so he’s wrapping up right on time and he’ll be able to grab a coffee and a croissant before his office hours start, “what we’ve explored today is really just a glimpse into the vast and ongoing conversation about how to engage critically with your existence.” he hums, leaning back against his desk as he looks out at the sea of students in front of him, the sound of pen tips scratching on paper and typing on keyboards coming from all over the room
“after you leave class today, i’d like for you to reflect on the choices you make — not just the big, life-altering ones, but the miniscule, everyday decisions.” he reaches up to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “are they leading you toward a life of purpose and integrity? or are they dictated by external pressures and unexamined habits? we’ll continue this discussion next time, but until then, i’d like you to keep questioning, keep thinking, and keep living philosophically. as always, i have office hours here from 3:30-6 if you have any questions. class dismissed.” he nods, and almost immediately the class breaks into packing up, murmurs rippling through the vast lecture hall
namjoon smiles lightly to himself as he gives himself a mental pat on the back
yet another successful lecture!
he really does love teaching, and he’s so grateful that he’s able to do something that he actually likes for work
shaping young minds is something that he’s always wanted to do, and he thinks he’s been doing a pretty good job as a professor
…
oh, who is he kidding? of course he’s been doing a fantastic job as a professor!
he smiles politely as his students trickle out the door, turning around to grab his wallet out of his backpack
croissant time!
»»————- 📚 ————-««
“hello, are you here for office hours?” namjoon isn’t surprised when he opens the door to see someone standing by his desk, looking around the empty lecture hall, “it actually starts at 3:30, so it would be great if you could come back in fifteen minutes and i’d be happy to answer any questions you have about the lecture.”
“oh, hi!“ you spin around with a smile, and namjoon returns a polite one as he sets his coffee and pastry bag down on the desk, “no, i’m not here for office hours, i’m here to check out the lecture hall for when i start teaching alongside you next week. you’re namjoon, right? i’ve heard so much about you, i’m y/n y/l/n and i’m really excited to start working together-“ you stick your hand out for him to shake and he immediately frowns, glancing down at your hand before looking back up at you with a scoff of disbelief
“teaching… alongside me?” he tilts his head, reaching over to give your hand a shake after a moment of hesitation (it would be rude of him to turn down a handshake, and he has to admit you have a nice, firm handshake), “i’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
“didn’t you get the email? i’m the newest philosophy professor joining the staff-“ you slide your tote bag off your shoulder and pull your phone out, “they told me i’d kinda be shadowing you before they can determine if i should lead my own lectures or not. so i guess i’m a co-professor for now, but eventually i’ll just be a professor. i’ve seen a few of your lectures online, i’m looking forward to working together and-“
“co-professor?” namjoon interrupts, holding his hand out to make you stop talking, “i’m sorry, this is the first i’m hearing of this.” he fumbles for his phone before looking through his email because there’s no way he would’ve missed an email as important as-
okay there it is
yep
he totally missed that
“i see.” namjoon pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “okay, well… i guess you can just sit with the class and listen to the lectures. i don’t need an assistant professor, but you can help give out handouts or something-“
“well, that would make sense if i was a TA, but i’m not entering this classroom as a TA or an assistant professor, i’m entering it as a co-professor. we’re equals!” you point out, namjoon’s eyes widening when you pull a pen out from your bun and slap a copy of the class syllabus down on his desk
he’s appalled to see that you’ve written all over it, and not only that, you’ve used multiple colours to take notes instead of the traditional black, blue, and red
…pastel purple?!
“i took a look at the lineup you have, and to be frank, it’s a little stiff. your students are drowning in dense readings, and i don’t know about you, but i actually hated reading so much when i was in undergrad-“
“well, that sounds like it’s a you problem, because i liked reading and always appreciated when the professor gave us something dense and enriching to read-“
“why not swap out one of the medieval philosophy lectures for something a little fresher?” you suggest, using the back of your pen to point to the lecture he has planned in a few weeks, “maybe we can do a session on philosophy in science fiction? ooh, ethics in AI might be fun, no? it’s something they can apply to the modern world-“
“philosophy isn’t about chasing trends. it’s about discipline, rigorous thought, and engaging with foundational texts that have shaped human understanding for centuries, professor y/l/n-“
“it’s doctor.”
“what?”
“dr. y/l/n. i just graduated with my phd.”
a moment of silence passes as namjoon processes all of this new information
processing…
processing…
“you-“ still processing… “you what? how old are you?”
“you should never ask a woman how old she is, but i’m two years younger than you. and i know that because i actually took the time to look at your profile on the university’s website after getting the email that we’d be working together for the rest of the semester-“
“rest of the-“ namjoon chokes, reaching up to adjust his tie, “okay, respectfully, dr. y/l/n, my whole point is that students have no business calling themselves actual philosophers if they can’t wrestle with aquinas and avicenna-“
“right, because thirty pages of medieval metaphysical debates on the essence of angels is going to determine whether or not a student can call themself an actual philosopher. i’m not saying to abandon the classics, i’m just saying it’s not gonna hurt to throw in a few discussions that’ll make philosophy feel a little more… alive to them!”
namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes as he takes a seat at his desk, keeping his eyes glued on the scribbles all over your copy of the syllabus
there’s no way he’s gonna work with someone who thinks pastel purple is an appropriate colour to use when taking notes
he reaches over to grab his coffee, taking a sip and-
his coffee is cold
he waited too long and now his coffee is cold, and he would’ve been drinking perfectly lukewarm coffee if it weren’t for the fact that you came and disrupted his whole schedule like this
“anyway, i’m open to discussing spicing up the syllabus once you have the time. i don’t want to take up any of your office hours, i know you probably have students lined up outside already-“ you fold the syllabus back up into four squares before tucking it away into your tote bag (namjoon is once again appalled you don’t have a folder for your papers and seem to have based your organising system off mary poppins’ purse), “but it was really nice meeting you, dr. kim. you have my phone number and email when you want to arrange a meeting.”
“…right…” namjoon trails off, and for the first time is rendered completely speechless and doesn’t know what else to say
all he knows is that there’s no way in hell he’s going to allow this co-professor business to happen.
»»————- 📚 ————-««
you let out a breath as you shut the door behind you, your shoulders finally slumping
you hated that whole interaction
you can already tell that working with namjoon is going to be a pain in the ass
you’d heard some things about him — you’d heard about how great of a lecturer he is and how he genuinely cares about what he’s teaching and what his students are learning from him, but you’d also heard that he was pretty stuck in his ways and not… super cooperative, which you already saw first hand
at the same time, you had to admit that that was a quality that both of you shared — you’re not exactly a fan of being co-professors, you’d much rather just take the reins and lead the class yourself while namjoon sits off to the side, but you are the new one around here and you do want to be liked
so you can play nice for now, because the most important thing you’re focusing on is securing your place as an official staff member and making a great first impression on your new co-workers and your new students
you’d prefer for namjoon to like you, but he seems to be a tough nut to crack
the both of you should at least try to get along, and you’re willing to do that as long as he’s willing to meet you in the middle
so… let’s just hope he’s willing to meet you in the middle
your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your jeans and you pull it out, surprised to already see a text from namjoon
okay
this is great!
the fact that he’s already opening a line of communication is a good sign, maybe this semester won’t be hell on earth after all
the smile on your face slowly disappears when you finally get around to reading the texts, your eyebrows knitting together instead
Hello, Dr. Y/L/N. This is Kim Namjoon. Please save my number so that we may communicate with each other if needed. The semester has already begun, therefore I don’t think there has to be any changes made to my syllabus. We do not need to discuss this topic any further. Thank you.
you don’t even get a chance to really process his text before another one pops up
Also, please stick to black, blue, and red ink for future note-taking and grading purposes. Pastel purple is not an appropriate colour for a higher education atmosphere. Thank you.
»»————- 📚 ————-««
namjoon sighs to himself as he makes his way up the brick stairs to enter the philosophy building, reaching up to adjust his tie
for the first time ever, he’s running a little behind (only by like, three minutes, he’s not that reckless) but it’s only because he spent the earlier portion of the afternoon speaking with the department head and practically pleading them to change their minds about this whole co-professor situation
he’d gone into the office with many good arguments tucked into a neat little powerpoint presentation
for example, he doesn’t need a co-professor because he knows what he’s doing and you would only slow him down
also his students consistently have high grades and his classes are always packed each semester so there’s no issues with consistency or lack of interest
sure, philosophy can be a stiff subject to work with but he thinks he’s done a great job at teaching it and upkeeping enthusiasm
the point is he doesn’t need you, and if anything you should just be teaching your own class and the students who don’t make it into his class can all go to you!
(maybe he shouldn’t have made that last comment, but it’s true.)
but of course, because luck wasn’t on his side, his presentation didn’t convince the department head to change his mind
apparently you were a “great addition” to the staff and that namjoon should feel lucky he gets to work alongside such a “smart, well-spoken young professional” who is “just as good at teaching as he is”
ridiculous
totally ridiculous
what’s even more ridiculous is the fact that you seem to have become a fan favourite despite only being here for literally a week
your mug is already right next to his in the cupboard in the professor’s lounge
it’s clearly a handmade mug you probably made at one of those pottery places because the edges are a little bumpy which makes it wobble a little when you put it face down
the outside is an eggplant purple and the inside of the cup is painted a shade of sage green and it looks like a child would drink chocolate milk out of it
his mug is sensible and professional
it’s plain white with his initials on the front printed in times new roman
everyone knows it’s his mug and there’s never any confusion
he even heard a rumour about one of the spare rooms in the philosophy department being cleared out for a new office for you if things work out
and yes, he has his own office already, but he just thinks everyone is being a little hasty clearing out an office space just for you
he can’t even imagine how you’d decorate the space
you’re probably one of those people who have little trinkets everywhere and you’ll probably have like a miniature pool table on your desk to play with
he shudders as he thinks about having to sit in oversized beanbag chairs instead of actual chairs
“alright, alright, alright!”
namjoon’s surprised when he opens the lecture hall door to an unusually bustling room, the students chatting animatedly as they flip through their notebooks
the air is alive with the rustling of papers, clinking of metal water bottles, and the occasional burst of laughter and he frowns as he sees a few of them leaning forward enthusiastically compared to the usual scene of them scrolling through their phones or talking to each other
he turns his head and sees you at the front of the room, perched casually on the edge of the desk twirling a purple pen between your fingers before shoving it into your bun, “now, something a little controversial...” you pause dramatically, “red ink for grading. ethical, or a crime against student morale?”
namjoon’s jaw immediately clenches as he rolls his eyes — obviously this has something to do with the text he sent you the other day about your ridiculous coloured pens and your little ego’s been bruised and that’s why you’re being bratty
but whatever, because if anything this is just proving his point — you’re an immature little kid totally unfit to be his equal! and he’s more than happy to let you make a fool of yourself in front of his students, so sure, go ahead and talk about your little purple pen for all he cares
the room erupts in laughter and groans and namjoon silently makes his way over to the front to join you, pulling his chair back to see that you’ve already put your backpack down on it
he picks it up and plops it down on the ground, using his foot to kick it under the desk before taking a seat and hanging his backpack on the back of the chair
“i always feel like i’m being yelled at when i see red ink!”
“exactly!” you laugh, sliding up to sit on the edge of the desk with your legs swinging slightly, completely blocking the class from seeing namjoon, “it’s psychological torture. red ink doesn’t just mark mistakes, it screams them. it’s aggressive. but what about if i used green? or pink? or… pastel purple? would you feel a little different about your grade?”
“it would feel… friendlier?”
“friendlier, right?” you grin, tapping your temple as you look out at the room of enthusiastic students, “then here’s the real ethical dilemma, kids — if something as small as ink colour affects how we perceive feedback, then what do we think that says about bigger, more serious choices? if we can reframe an experience with something as simple as colour, then what other biases are shaping the way we see the world around us? something to think about...”
“are you just about done, dr. y/l/n?” namjoon raises an eyebrow, tapping his fingers against the desk as he leans back against his chair, “because i’d like to get started with class now, if you’re ready to go.”
“ah! dr. kim, sorry — i know you usually like to start your classes with a silent ten minutes of quiet reflection of last week’s lecture, but i figured i’d warm up the class myself since this is my first day as co-professor.” you chirp, sliding off the desk before turning to face the class again, “very lovely to meet you all and i’m looking forward to getting to know each and every one of you as we progress with the semester!”
“kiss ass.” namjoon coughs into his fist quietly, getting up from his seat before smiling warmly at his students, nudging you aside with his hip before clapping his hands together, “alright, class! medieval philosophy, let’s get into it…”
you immediately roll your eyes when you turn to face away from the class, taking a seat next to the desk and crossing one leg over the other
he’s just jealous because the students clearly like you more and you’ve only been here five minutes
but if this is how he wants to play, then you’re more than willing to play along.
»»————- 📚 ————-««
namjoon finds that the simplest things in life bring him the most pleasure
a hot cup of black coffee, the perfect scent of sandalwood in a room, the feeling of cracking the spine on a brand new notebook…
but most importantly, a perfectly toasted buttery flaky croissant from the cafe on the bottom floor of the philosophy building
he’s eaten these croissants ever since he was a student here, and he always has a croissant after he teaches classes here on tuesdays and thursdays — it’s like a reward!
“what do you mean there are no more croissants?!” namjoon slams both palms down on the counter, pulling away immediately when he feels that the surface is a little sticky
gross
“sorry, namjoon!” hoseok shrugs, “i just sold the last croissant to- actually, i think you know her, she said she’s the new professor in the philosophy department-“
you.
“i know who you’re talking about.” namjoon grits his teeth, looking at the pastry case for anything else that might satisfy his midday sweet treat craving but he doesn’t want a stupid sea salt chocolate chip cookie or a raspberry white chocolate scone, he wants his plain buttery croissant that you probably only bought to spite him!
“yeah, her!” hoseok grins, setting namjoon’s coffee down on the counter, “she’s really nice, isn’t she? she said she likes the way i do my leaf design on her caramel lattes, no one’s ever complimented my leaves before- it just feels so nice to be appreciated for once-“
“no!” namjoon snaps, pointing a finger at hoseok, “you have to stop yourself from being charmed by her, it’s all an act and- and- next time she asks for a latte, you should do a giant- a GIANT frowney face-“
“well, i don’t think i’m going to do that but-“ hoseok frowns when he notices a vein starting to bulge out namjoon’s forehead, “hey, you seem a little tense! how about a cookie on the house?” he asks, using his tongs to pick up the sad-looking cookie before putting it in a paper bag for namjoon, “it’s just a croissant, namjoon. i know you like ‘em every tuesday and thursday but if it makes you feel better i’ll save you one on thursday! it seems like both of you guys like croissants so i can definitely save two of them-“
the both of them look over to where you’re sitting by the window with his croissant while you flip to the next page of whatever stupid book you’re reading, and namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver in the slightest when you look up and over at them
you smile brightly, raising the croissant in the air a little before taking a massive bite out of it, rubbing your stomach and nodding your head exaggeratingly
namjoon’s eye twitches and he turns back to look at hoseok
“it is not just a croissant and you know that, hoseok-“ he snatches the cookie from his friend before shaking his head in disappointment, “she is a siren and you are a helpless, weak little sailor-“
“hey! what the hell, man?!”
“WEAK little sailor!” namjoon exclaims as he storms away, angrily shoving the cookie into his mouth and wiping crumbs off with the back of his hand sloppily
»»————- 📚 ————-««
“tae, have you seen my mug?” you frown, taking a few steps back to see if you can get a better view of the second shelf, “i usually have it on the first shelf but i can’t find it anywhere…”
“is it not there?” taehyung — he’s the janitor here and you guys got along pretty quickly — hums, setting his mop aside before walking over to join you by the cupboards, “i swear i saw it there this morning, that’s odd. i’ll keep an eye out and let you know if i see it anywhere. you sure you didn’t leave it in your lecture hall?”
“no…” you trail off, shutting the cupboard doors gently with a sigh, “hm. i’m sure it’ll pop up somewhere. thanks, anyway…”
you like to think that you’re a pretty chill person, but there’s just something about misplacing something that really irks you
because then you start thinking about when the last time you saw the missing object was and then it turns into a spiral of how you could be so careless and irresponsible and lose something and also it makes you anxiously think about someone else using something that belongs to you and only you
that’s your good luck mug!
you made it at a colour-me-mine in freshman year and you’ve used it ever since
you’re convinced it has some kind of magical power because the mug always happens to be there when you get good news
it was there when you got accepted into your graduate program, your doctoral program, and it was literally in your hands when you got the email from the university accepting you as a new professor
so… hopefully it does pop up somewhere
you used it yesterday after class and you remember washing and drying it immediately before sliding it back on the shelf
you chew on the corner of your lip as you push open the door to the lecture hall, your eyes widening when you see namjoon standing there taking a sip from your mug
you open your mouth to say something but he immediately brings a finger up to his lips to shush you — the class is having their silent time and the last thing you want to do is cause a scene, right?
“that’s my mug.” you whisper through gritted teeth, and namjoon moves his hands to the side quickly when you reach up to try to snatch it out of his hands, “you have a stupid, boring mug already-“
“oh, but your mug is so much fun!” namjoon grins, taking another sip of water from it
(it’s actually killing him having to drink from this cursed vessel. why are the edges so bumpy?! how do you drink from this stupid thing without dribbling all over yourself?!)
“it is on, dr. kim.” you hiss, forcing a smile on your face when a few students look up from their desks, “it is so on.”
“hm.” namjoon clears his throat quietly, the two of you standing side by side with your arms pressed together, “bring it, dr. y/l/n.”
»»————- 📚 ————-««
the next few weeks seem to go by like a blur — maybe because you’re actually having a good time teaching the class and slowly growing more comfortable being a professor (you agreed to stick to namjoon’s syllabus only if he allowed you to teach your ethics of AI lecture) but also because this rivalry between the two of you seems to be keeping you on high alert
after the croissant and the mug incident, the two of you only continued to one-up each other
you replaced the sandalwood essential oil in the lecture hall with a refreshing peppermint (and you really doused it in the machine so it would take multiple cycles to be fully flushed out) and in response namjoon bought the entire jug of caramel syrup from the cafe so you’d be forced to pick another flavour
and then you took all of namjoon’s sensible coloured whiteboard markers and replaced them with bright, fun ones forcing him to write in a fuschia pink and in response namjoon bought all fifteen croissants that day which felt kind of dramatic but at the same time you can’t help but kind of respect it
whatever
all you know is that you despise kim namjoon
every morning when you wake up, you’re thinking about how else you can terrorise him besides just taking the last croissant in the display case
every night before bed, you’re thinking about how else you can make fun of his stupid powerpoint presentations and you even considered hacking his laptop and adding fun transitions to his powerpoints to throw him off
he hates fun transitions
with that being said, you’re willing to put the fight on pause because today is an important day — it’s your first time leading a lecture! you’ve been prepping for this ethics in AI lecture and you’re more than excited to show the class (and namjoon) what you’re capable of
and if all goes well, you will be rubbing this success in his stupid, handsome face.
“handfphome?” you blurt out, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth as you blink at yourself in the mirror
oh
oh no
you don’t actually think he’s handsome, do you?
well, there was that one time he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and when he turned around you couldn’t help but notice how broad his back was
and that other time you were looking at his hands when he was pointing to something on his stupid powerpoint and you couldn’t help but think that he had such pretty hands
and also he always smells really good — like a combination of smokey sandalwood and his natural musk
and when you listen to him speak it’s really soothing because he has a deep voice that kind of makes you feel like you’re floating on a cloud being rocked back and forth
he’s also very intelligent and incredibly well-spoken
highly educated, charming in his own weird way (not with you, but you’ve seen the way he interacts with other professors), kinda funny sometimes, and you only know he’s single because you overheard two students whispering about it in the hallway — apparently they’d done a deep dive of his socials and there was no partner to be found, his instagram page was full of pictures of plants and quotes from philosophers
so basically he’s a hot single nerd who’s really into philosophy and plants and you guys are only two years apart and hypothetically if you didn’t know each other and you saw him at the bar you would probably feel a little flustered if he flirted with you
and maybe one time you watched him apply chapstick onto his plump lips and you wondered if they were as soft as they looked
…
…
…
you take your toothbrush out of your mouth, your eyes widening in realisation and-
“son of a BITC-“
»»————- 📚 ————-««
“would you let AI decide whether you get a loan? a job? parole? surgery?” you pause, letting the weight of the question settle over the students, “i know, it’s a crazy question. but maybe you already have… algorithms are making these decisions right now — sorting resumes, predicting crime, even diagnosing illnesses. AI is everywhere, and the question isn’t whether it should exist, it’s whether we should trust it…”
the only reason why namjoon is cooperating today is because you’ve (sort of) cooperated with his syllabus over the last couple weeks despite being a total menace to him personally
yes, he’ll let you teach your ethics in AI lecture today because he’s interested in seeing what points you’ll bring up today
he can also tell you’ve been really nervous about leading your first lecture and he still remembers how nervous he was when he was in your position, so he’ll take it easy on you
he caught you practicing your intro in the professor’s lounge and he slowly backed out so that you wouldn’t see him
and he’ll never say this to your face but from the intro alone it sounds like a pretty promising lecture
and it was kind of cute seeing you fumble with your cue cards and going over your lines with your eyes shut
namjoon leans back against his chair as he listens to you speak, keeping his eyes on the back of your head as he crosses his arms over his chest
sure, maybe you’re more than immature when it comes to buying his croissants and replacing his scented oils, but…
oh god
does he respect you as an educator?!
he pauses for a second to think, watching as you reach up to fiddle with a button on your shirt nervously
also you actually dressed up today compared to your usual attire of a sweater and jeans and namjoon can’t help but notice that your ass looks really round in that pencil skirt
he tilts his head slightly as his eyes continue staring at you from behind, the ooga booga man part of his brain wondering how it’d feel to grasp your waist and cup your ass as he-
oh no
he feels his dick twitch in his boxers and he clears his throat quietly, looking down at the desk and focusing on a speck of dust instead
oh
what is this feeling?
he’s pretty sure he hates you
and he’s pretty sure you hate him, so it doesn’t make sense for him to suddenly be thinking about how sweet you smell and how pretty your smile is and how funny it actually was for you to buy the last croissant just to get on his nerves
no
nope
you guys don’t like each other!
that’s how this works!
you just came in here and totally messed up his flow and you just expect him to go along with it but he refuses to do that and after this semester is over he hopes they stick you in another building far, far away from him
he doesn’t need anyone messing with his routine, and especially not some hotshot professor who just got her phd
“now, some of my less adventurous colleagues-“ you step aside to reveal namjoon, and namjoon feels his jaw twitch when the class laughs lightly after you gesture to him, “would tell you that AI is a dangerous pandora’s box, something that we should fear. and sure, it’s got its problems… bias, accountability, control. but let’s not kid ourselves — human decision making isn’t exactly perfect, either. AI didn’t invent discrimination, it just inherited it from us. so can we teach morality to something that doesn’t feel?”
“AI is a threat to ethical stability. we’re delegating moral decision-making to machines that lack genuine understanding, consciousness, or accountability.” namjoon butts in, standing up from his desk with a scoff, “how can we trust algorithms with decisions that affect human lives when they can’t even grasp mortality in any meaningful way?”
you look at him, slightly surprised that he’s interrupted you this early in your lecture for a debate
but sure, you’ll give it a go — the two of you haven’t actually debated over a subject before and you’re down to totally humiliate him in front of the class
“dr. kim is a great example of what sounding like a doomsday prophet is, class.” you smile sweetly, fluttering your lashes at namjoon as the class breaks into a few giggles and chuckles, “AI is a tool. nothing more, nothing less. it doesn’t need to ‘grasp’ mortality than a calculator needs to ‘understand’ math. the ethical responsibility lies with us! blaming AI is like blaming a knife for stabbing.”
“that’s a dangerously naive view, dr. y/l/n!” namjoon laughs, the two of you staring each other down as you stand at opposite ends of the desk, “AI systems are already making high-stakes decisions — these systems inherit biases from their training data and can operate in ways even their own creators can’t explain. if we don’t impose strict ethical guidelines, we’re ceding control to forces we barely understand-“
“you’re acting like we’re summoning some digital god that’ll enslave us all! AI doesn’t have agency — instead of fearing it, we should focus on improving transparency and fairness in these systems. ethics in AI isn’t about rejecting technology, it’s about guiding it responsibly-“
“guiding it-“ namjoon can practically hear his heart thumping in his chest as his frustration rises inside him, “guiding it responsibly?! and what happens when corporations prioritise efficiency over ethics? what- what about when governments exploit AI for mass surveillance? when biased training data leads to systemic discrimination? you’re placing blind faith in a system that rewards profit over morality- you’re playing a dangerous game, dr. y/l/n, AI isn’t just another tool, it’s a tool we may not be able to control. and your reckless optimism makes you too eager to hand over the reins-“
“maybe you just don’t like that i’m willing to embrace the unknown!” you throw your hands up into the air before pointing an accusatory finger at him, “maybe that unsettles you because you have everything planned to a ridiculous degree, like the temperature of your coffee and what time you eat your croissants-“
“what unsettles me is your inability to take this seriously!” namjoon presses his lips into a firm line, feeling his face heating up, “you act as if ethics in AI is some intellectual playground when in reality, it has life-or-death consequences-“
“oh, i take it very seriously, dr. kim, i just don’t think fear is the right response. fear clouds judgement, and i think you just like to have an insane amount of control over things-“
“well, excuse me! someone has to have control, someone has to make sure we don’t create something we can’t contain-“
“you always think you can contain things, don’t you?”
“and you always think you can push boundaries without consequences!”
“you’d be surprised how many boundaries can be pushed safely, dr. kim.”
there’s a beat of silence between the two of you, the air heavy with something that doesn’t feel like loathing, but rather…
you pause, remembering all of a sudden that the students should be debating with each other instead of watching their professors do it
“uh-“ you turn back to face the class before letting out a chuckle, “let’s take twenty minutes to discuss this subject with the person next to you! dr. kim and i have to re-evaluate the structure of today’s lecture, please pardon us-“
the class breaks into discussion and both you and namjoon exchange glares as you head towards the door
the two of you stumble against each other and get caught in the door for a second, both of you wanting to be the first one out to lead the way
“oh, get off me-“
“you get off me!”
“what is your problem?!” you snap as soon as you leave the lecture hall, heading straight for an empty classroom nearby, “you’re supposed to let me lead this lecture, today was my day and you just couldn’t help yourself!”
when the hell is this going to end?!
there’s no way the both of you can work together if he’s going to get this heated in a debate
and sure, he made some really good points and the nerd inside of you is saying that that really good debate session might as well been some form of foreplay but that’s beside the point
“oh, please.” namjoon kicks the door shut behind him, “all we did was get into a debate, you should be glad i participated at all-“
“you know what, i actually do know what your problem is.” you whip around, jabbing a finger into his (firm) chest, “you’re just a little man who’s threatened by me because we both know i can do your job just as well — or honestly, even better than you can, and this is the first time you’ve had any sort of competition. i’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you just have to accept the fact that i’m going to be here and i’m sticking around for a long, long-“
“i’m going to kiss you, and if you don’t want that to happen, then tell me now and we can go back to the classroom and i’ll sit there quietly for the rest of your lecture.” namjoon interrupts, and your eyes widen as your breath hitches in your throat
“wha-“ your voice cracks and you feel your face flush, “you- i’m sorry, what?”
“you heard me, y/n.” namjoon looks down at you, and you’re half expecting him to quit the act and say that he’s just fucking with you, but… “so what’s it going to be?”
a moment of silence passes and you feel your thighs press together slightly when namjoon reaches up to loosen his tie slightly, his chest falling and rising in heavy breaths, “funny. you’re so quiet all of a sudden.”
“i…” your lashes flutter as you stare up at him, “fine. you- we-“ you straighten your posture, trying your best not to show how flustered you actually are, “but make it quick because i have a lecture to-“
without another word, namjoon closes the distance between the two of you and in one fluid motion, presses his lips against yours and now you can finally confirm that his lips are as soft as they look
you grip the front of his shirt to pull him closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that matches the intensity of your back-and-forth over the last few weeks
your lips move against each other’s as namjoon’s hands slide around your waist to pull you in even tighter, his body pressing against yours as if he can’t get close enough
you’re breathless when the two of you eventually pull away, your cheeks flushed and your heart thumping wildly in your chest
“this better not be some weird prank-“ you manage to blurt out, head still spinning from what was a very, very good kiss, “because i’m petty enough to call the catering company and tell them to nix the croissant deliveries entirely-“
namjoon laughs, leaning down for another kiss — this time softer, more deliberate — before pulling away with a playful eye roll
“we’re gonna go back in and you’ll finish your lecture, and if you’re free tonight, i’d love to take you out for dinner.” he murmurs, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was being a little shy
it’s cute
“i’ll go out with you… on one condition.” you hum, reaching up to adjust his glasses for him
“hm?”
“next week you let me lead a lecture on examining the moral dilemmas faced by superheroes in film and comics — like how batman has a no-kill rule and-“
namjoon immediately groans as he turns and heads towards the door, “oh my god, you are infuriating-“
“what?! it’s a good subject!”
🎙️ ask y/n about her thoughts on the nature of consciousness (talk to my characters!)
📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)
💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)
🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)
#loved this one#namjoon drabbles#professor!namjoon#namjoon fics#namjoon fic recs#namjoon smut#namjoon smut recs#namjoon fluff#namjoon fluff recs#namjoon drabble recs#bts#fics#bts fic recs#bts author#bts author recs#bts writer recs#bts fluff#bts fluff recs#bts smut#bts smut recs#namjoon x reader#reader insert fics#bts reader insert#bts bulletpoint fics#namjoon bulletpoint fics#jungshookz#bts imagines#namjoon imagines#professor!namjoon drabbles#bts e2l
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