#they all love went too but this isn't about him

[hitomisuzuya]

AAAAAHHH HI HOW ARE YOU GRAAAH SORRY ABOUT MY LAST REQ I MEANT READER NOT USER

CAN YOU DO A NSFW WITH NAWASHI (SHIBARI ARTIST) SCARA WHO DOES SOME REALLY COMPLEX STUFF ON READER THEN THEY DO THE BANG BANG ‼️‼️ 😋

THANK YOU I LOVE YOUR WORKS AAAAH

- 🎧

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Degradation. Bondage/Shibari. Breeding kink. Cream pie. Fingersucking. Modern AU.

Hi dear❤️ Sorry it took so long and thank you as always for the delicious request. I love writing bondage and it isn't requested a lot from me.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from Scaramouche's fingers as he worked. They looked so fluid, so expert, so suckable as he tied and looped the ropes around you. How he took his time, and how thorough he was being really went a long way to show that he took pride in his work.

Your legs were bent and spread, your ankles tied to your thighs in a variety of intricate knots. He took extra care tying your wrists to your ankles. The more complicated he got with tying and securing the knots, the harder he got.

You look so vulnerable, and delicate. Completely at his mercy. You were a vision of erotic submission. All bound up, your pussy wet and ready for him.

Scaramouche noticed you staring, and smirked. "Here," He said, offering you his index and middle finger, "Suck while I double check these knots," He pushed his fingers into your eager mouth, his cock pulsing from the feeling of your warm mouth suctioning wet around them as you sucked.

You let out happy, muffled moans as he pressed on your tongue, pumping them in and out of your mouth.

Something first, though. Scaramouche took his fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your tongue to his fingers. "You good?" You nodded. "The knots aren't too tight?" You shook your head. "Any pain?" You shook your head again, offering him a soft, reassuring smile that made his heart skip beats.

"Tch," He scoffed, narrowing his eyes. He grasped your jaw, squeezing it a little. "Now answer me verbally, slut. Do you want me?"

You shivered under the sudden, heavy wet of his dominance. Your cheeks flushed adoringly, his degradation making you wetter, and your clit throb and swell. "Yes, I want you. My body aches for your cock," Goosebumps rose in the wake of his fingers as they trailed down your stomach and between your legs.

He traced the shape of your pussy, rubbing the tip of his finger on your clit. His ministrations spurred the throbbing in your clit. You whined softly, struggling to move your hips up to grind your clit on his finger.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow for you to continue. "S-so much I can hardly stand it," Your words were breaking into moans, pleasure starting to curl and jolt through your body.

He stroked his cock while he watched you struggle. He teased his finger at your hole, groaning softly feeling it clench around his finger tip. He laughed hearing your whine of protest when he withdrew his finger. He replaced it with his cock, rubbing it between your folds.

Scaramouche laughed softly, the head of his leaking cock rubbing on your clit. "What a little slut you are," He groaned huskily, "already so wet just from watching me tie you up."

His teasing was so cruel and he relished in it. There was a pitch of desperation in your moans. "What do you say, kitten?" He purred in delight, pushing the tip of his cock a little inside of you, further teasing you.

You gasped in pleasure as he reached up to pinch and play one of your nipples for extra stimulation. "P-Please! Please, I want you s-so bad," You stumbled over your words, your thighs shaking as he pushed his cock inside of you.

When his cock was half way inside of you, Scaramouche bottomed out with a harsh snap of his hips. His cock abruptly hitting your sweet spot tore a pornographic moan from your throat.

"Fuck," He moaned shakily, "You are this wet, but still so tight. What a fucking whore," The tight warmth of your walls clutching and clenching snug around his cock was a dizzying sensation. "I'll breed you full of my cum for your subservience."

Scaramouche's mouth watered in anticipation of filling your stuffed, messy cunt with his cum. Of seeing it seep around his cock while he bred you. There was a satisfying smack of his skin against yours, your toes curling as he angled his hips to fuck himself deeper into you.

Your mind was hazy as his cock stretched you apart. You grew more sensitive with every thrust, your eyes glazed over and hardly noticing the drool pooling from the corner of your mouth. You couldn't move, forced to feel every delicious pulse and throb of his cock. The only thing you could do was moan, unable to focus on anything but him and how good his cock felt fucking into you.

He put a hand on the back of your head, pulling on your hair. "Look at how cute you look. Dumb and drooling, impaled on my cock," He captured your lips in a messy, deep kiss.

His tongue wrestled yours into quick submission, pressing your mouth against his as he deepened the kiss. Tearing his mouth off of yours, his own moans mingled uncontrolled with yours.

At first you didn't hear yourself whimpering for him to cum inside. Scaramouche's laugh was soft and drunk sounding. He mocked your noises for a few moments. "You sound so cute when you are about to cum," He reached down to rub your clit, sending your body to tremble and quiver.

The warm knot collecting in your core came undone, his name sounding from you in a pleasured scream as your orgasm washed over you. Scaramouche leaned down to sink his teeth into your neck, supporting you against him as he chased his climax.

Cum ribboned inside of you, his body shaking above you. His mouth sucking and biting the fold of skin in his mouth did little to conceal his long, satisfied moan as he emptied his cock inside of you.

Pulling out, Scaramouche's eyes drank in the site of his cum dripping onto your cunt. He scooped some up on his finger, fingering his cum back inside of you before putting it in your mouth. "Clean it before I stuff you full again."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

[all4yoi]

falling slowly in love

𝓈unghoon x fem!reader (ft. ni-ki) ↻ f2l, fluff, est relationship, written in ni-ki's pov, mentions of heeseung, not proofread. a part 2 maybe? wc: 610

wherein we see how ni-ki witnessed how the love between you and sunghoon bloomed

There was he again, the stupid stupid boy that took his sister's attention away from him. Riki frowned in distaste at the sight of his laughing sister seated beside a boy that was obviously much taller than her, he was looking at her as if she created all the toys in the world. 5 years old Riki didn't like that, he was supposed to be the only boy in his sister's life. But he'll let it pass, he loved seeing his sister happy.

Riki was 13 years old now, he now knew all about girlfriends and boyfriends but that didn't stop him from giving Park Sunghoon the stink eye whenever he came too close to his sister. Just like today, he came home from school earlier than expected and was met with the sight of the taller dude towering over his sister on their mother's kitchen. God knew what they were doing and he was about to storm in and break them apart when the echoes of his sister's joyful laughter. Retracting his steps, he instead rolled his eyes and went up to his room, the sight of his sister's head rolling back in laughter as Sunghoon smiled at the sight made him feel a little better.

Finally 18 years old, and Riki was ecstatic when he found out that his sister wasn't dating stinky Sunghoon. He was over the moon when he found out that she was dating basketball captain Lee Heeseung. That meant he could get closer to him and heighten his chances on getting in the team right? He liked to think it would. The longer her sister dated Lee Heeseung, the longer the light in her sister's eyes disappeared.

Riki was worried, but he thought it was all good because atleast it isn't Sunghoon she's dating. Although the next few months, he started seeking the figure skater. He noticed how frequent his sister came home with a tear stricken face, he noticed how she started wearing baggy clothes, the bags under her eyes were darkening each day.

Walking through the university's hallway and trying to find one person surely isn't easy, but Riki pushed through. Waiting infront of the locker, he visibly brightened when his eyes fell on his figure.

Sunghoon was confused and weirded out, if you were to ask him. It was the first time he has seen the once small insolent child who used to give him the stink eye wave at him with a smile that reached his ears.

"Hyung!" Riki exclaimed, dapping him up. If he noticed the older's awkwardness in his action, he didn't point it out. "I need your help." the younger expressed with worried eyes.

And before Sunghoon could deny, Riki mentioned your name and instantly..

"What happened to her?"

Riki led Sunghoon to your room and watched him enter, he peeked through the small gap through the door. As much as he used to dislike the way stinky Sunghoon hug his sister back then, he was much more relieved now as he witnessed the older man cradle you in his chest.

It has been so long since Sunghoon has visited you home, mainly because you had a boyfriend and he wanted to respect the boundaries, after all he was just a friend.

Riki, as much as he didn't want to admit, missed Sunghoon. He didn't miss his presence, no. He missed Sunghoon because he made you laugh, he made you happy, and he consistently made sure you were safe everywhere you went.

And as Riki watched you bury your face in Sunghoon's neck, he walked away with his chest puffed, feeling accomplished in reuniting you both again.

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst #sunghoon imagines #enha fluff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon #ni ki imagines #heeseung x reader

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Lucky it's not Worse (part 4)

First part | Masterpost | Last part|

Betad by mossycobblestonewrites! Thank you

------

Batman has had a very hard... time, he wasn't honestly sure exactly how long it had been since Jason died. Since he'd lost his mind to the point the neighbor's child took it upon himself to play adult and keep Batman from falling apart. Of course, Tim had turned out to be a good kid in need of a home, and Bruce was glad to have him now, but that didn't touch his hurt and shame for his behaviour. And then Red Hood showed up.

The new rogue had an absolutely meteoric rise in power in Crime Alley, taking over the drug trade and forming a very organized gang before Bruce even had time to really register the threat. His rise had been bloody and thorough as he brought nearly all of organized crime in Gotham under his heel, with the help of his loyal second in command, Hyena.

Batman had thought that this headache couldn't get any worse, and then he found out who was under the Red Hood. Jason Todd, his son, back from the dead and so deeply changed, so angry about his death, and his life. Bruce... hadn't reacted well, honestly, he understood why Jason wanted to be avenged and they had wanted to avenge him. In the heat of the moment Dick had nearly killed the Joker, and so had Bruce really, if Clark hadn't held him back...

But in the heat of the moment, Bruce hadn't chosen his son. He had hurt Jason, again, to save the Joker, and it hadn't even worked. It had only been a few months later when Hyena had killed the Joker and brought Jason his head. Bruce had watched Jason declare his love for Hyena, before turning on Batman and Robin again. He wanted to help Jason, he really did, but he was afraid it was far too late.

The only thing that was giving him even an ounce of hope was that Red Hood had agreed to meet them tonight. Well, meet him. Bruce had refused to bring Tim and put him in that sort of danger, though he was sure that the third Robin had followed him anyway and was around here somewhere. Batman stood on a roof, waiting for Red Hood to come join him.

There was the sound of an impact beside Bruce and he turned towards it, expecting to see Red Hood and... displeased, to say the least, to see it wasn't him. Hyena stood on the other side of the roof, green eyes practically glowing over the muzzle he wore to hide the lower half of his face.

Bruce didn't know how to feel about Hyena. He knew that in his day-to-day life, the man was known as Fox, but Bruce couldn't find any mention of the name before he showed up in Gotham and started working for Red Hood. He knew Fox was a fake name too, but he couldn't find any hint of the man before he went by it. It was driving Batman crazy especially since Fox was so close to Jason. Was he to blame for the violent methods Jason was using now? A part of Bruce desperately wanted to believe this wasn't really his son's fault, at least not entirely.

"Hyena," Bruce greeted warily. "Where's Red hood, he agreed-"

"He agreed to hear you out," Hyena interrupted, sitting down on the raised edge of the building and crossing one leg over the other. "But something came up, I'm his eyes and ears when he isn't there, and I'm wearing a wire so he can listen in now or later. Whenever he's ready to."

"I don't want to talk to You," Batman growled and Hyena shrugged, posture relaxed and confident. He clearly wasn't intimidated at all by Batman, it was... disconcerting.

"Well then, that's just too bad, because he's not ready to see you until I give the go-ahead that you're not going to hurt him again." Hyena raised his chin defiantly, staring Batman down accusatory. "Since I was the one who stitched his throat back up after you slit it open," He said in an accusing snarl. Bruce suppressed his flinch.

"I'm not going to hurt him," Bruce said softly.

"Oh? You're not?" Hyena asked, cocking his head to the side, "Just going to arrest him and send him to Arkham then? Because he can't possibly know what he's doing? Anyone who doesn't follow your exact morals must be criminally insane!"

"Killing people Is a crime," Bruce said, puffing himself up indignantly and refusing to wilt when met with Hyena's manic laughter.

"It's the only way to stop Some People," he said, pushing himself up again, sauntering a little closer to Bruce. "If you really want us to stop, you know how~, you nearly 'stopped' Red Hood once already."

"I'm not going to hurt him, or you," Bruce said firmly and he could have sworn Hyena looked disappointed.

"Well that's just too bad," he sighed, slumping back a little, "What, exactly did you want then?"

"I wanted to apologize," Bruce said, though it felt like pulling teeth to say as much to Hyena. "And to try and agree to a... truce. From what I've heard things have been better in Crime Alley. If we can come to an agreement-"

"The only agreement we want is for you to agree to stay the hell out of Our territory," Hyena snarled, his eyes flashing an unnatural green, "And out of our business. Red Hood is done with you, you couldn't give him what he needed anyway. You leave us alone, and we'll leave you alone, that's the truce."

"You can't expect us to just allow the crimes you are committing! The drugs, and the murder-"

"They were happening anyway. You could never get a handle on organized crime," Hyena said with a dismissive wave. "If you want any sort of relationship with your son you're going to have to accept what he's Chosen to do with his life. He's making his home a better place, and I for one, support him and Whatever he believes needs to be done."

"Even if it's-"

"Whatever needs to be done," Hyena repeated, staring him down. "There is No limit to what I would do for him."

Bruce found himself at a loss for words. Hyena could be lying, but he looked so sincere and serious. He was probably still enabling Jason's behaviour, but the hope Bruce had that Hyena was the one leading and manipulating Jason was dying a slow death. Another thing was still bothering him though. It was the way Hyena snarled, and the way his eyes glowed. When he laughed it echoed a little too, like there was a modulator but he was pretty sure it wasn't. Something was Off with Hyena.

"So, do you agree to our terms?" Hyena asked after the silence had trailed on for too long.

"I want to see Red Hood," Bruce said instead and Hyena cocked his head to the side again, looking him over.

"I'll see if he'd be willing to meet you," he sighed reluctantly.

"Alone."

"No." The denial was abrupt and immediate. Bruce did Not like it.

"That's not up to you!" Bruce growled in his most threatening 'Batman voice'.

"He is my boyfriend, My Beloved, My World! I will Not let you hurt him again!" Hyena insisted, and there was that echo again as emotion made his voice lose some of its humanity. His eyes were glowing green again as well, this time it was obvious.

Bruce stared back at him consideringly and hummed, nodding slowly. "Alright, I still want to see him," He repeated. “Even if you insist on being there.”

Hyena stared at him, then nodded slowly. "I'll talk to Hood, maybe.” He agreed, though he sounded far from convinced. “Is there anything else?" He asked, clearly exasperated.

"Hm," Bruce sounded a negative, shaking his head slightly.

"Alright, then I've got things to do," Hyena said with an insincere and mocking salute before loping over to the side of the building and vaulting over the edge, returning to Crime Alley.

Bruce only had to wait a couple minutes before he heard a grapple and Robin landed next to him. He sighed softly at Tim, who was entirely unapologetic for coming along without permission.

"So that was weird, huh?" He said with a defiant little grin.

"Hm. I think we need to call Constantine."

-----------

Constantine hated it when the Bats called him. They did it very rarely, and when they did, it meant something had gone horribly wrong. Usually, they should have called him in ages ago, but were either insisting they could handle it themselves or didn't think the problem was supernatural. So when he got a call saying he needed to come to Gotham A.S.A.P, John felt like a bowling ball had been dropped into his gut, and dropped everything to go. As much as he wanted to avoid it, avoidance would just make things worse.

He portalled to the bat cave and immediately felt that something was off, though he didn’t know what it was at first. His supernatural senses were tingling, though not in a way that indicated an imminent threat or anything. He couldn’t be sure of course, but he trusted his gut. 

Batman turned towards him nodding at him in greeting, and beckoned for him to come closer to the giant computer they had in this weird cave. “There is a new masked player in Gotham,” Batman started, and Constantine nodded.

“Red Hood? I’ve heard about him.” He didn’t understand why Batman twitched slightly at the mention.

“Yes, but it’s not him I’m talking about. It’s his partner, known as Hyena. We know almost nothing about him, but we do know he has some sort of meta or magic abilities. We believe he has the potential to be even more of a threat than he first appears, and that he might be the true head of operations for Red Hood’s gang,” Bruce said opening the file on Hyena, showing a young man with black and white hair, a muzzle, and a brown, beige, and red costume that looked to be inspired by Harley Quinn and Catwoman. 

There was something wrong with the man, the way his eyes reflected the light in the still Batman had paused on. Then he hit play and the video showed Hyena looking directly at the camera, his eyes flashed fully green for just a moment before the recording turned to static. That was what the human eye would see at least, Constantine could see the burst of power that had broken the electronics, it was definitely magic. “It didn’t just take out the camera. The street lights and just about every appliance on the block shorted out as well,” Batman explained. 

“Huh, do you have anything of his?” Constantine asked. Batman scowled, shaking his head. That was weird, Bats were usually really good at getting samples from people. Hyena must be really careful with his DNA.

“Alright, I’ll try Scrying then,” Constantine sighed, digging in his pockets for the things he’d need to set up the spell. “Alright, this should show us a bit more about him,” Constantine said as Batman came closer to watch him activate the spell.

But it did not work as it was intended to, in fact, something happened that Constantine had never seen before. The spell blew up. And not just a little, the blast of green energy knocked Constantine back flat on his ass, leaving him gaping at the place the spell circle had been, now a scorched patch on the floor still crackling with vivid green energy. 

“What does that mean?” Batman growled, snapping Constantine out of his daze. 

He leapt up to his feet with an indignant yelp, “What that means, is that Hyena is something you should not be messing with! With that sort of power coming through just a Scrying spell if that thing is keeping to Crime Alley and only killing a few people you’re damn lucky!” He insisted furiously, only to receive a disbelieving hum from Batman.

“You haven’t seen him. The spell could have failed for a different reason,” He stated, as if he knew anything at all about magic!

“Ohh, no! I have done this spell hundreds of times! If it failed, it just wouldn’t have shown anything. It worked, and the amount of power that came through shorted the spell!” Constantine reiterated with growing frustration, pointing accusingly at Batman, “Leave it alone!” 

“Hyena is causing problems in my city, I will not leave it alone. What can you tell me about him? What is he?” Batman asked stubbornly. 

“Absolutely fuck all! The spell has never reacted like that, and I don’t know the energy signature. Besides Powerful, I know nothing about them!” 

“Hm. He and Hood agreed to meet me tonight. You will be coming with me,” Batman decided. It wasn’t a question, but Constantine made an X motion with his hands anyway. 

“Nooo, no no no! Absolutely not! I’m not going anywhere near this!” Constantine denied immediately, but the stubborn set of Batman’s jaw said that he was not getting out of this, not without serious consequences. 

“Hm,” Batman sounded, staring Constantine down, who tried to withstand, truly he did! But, well, the devil he knew was better than the devil he didn’t.

“Fine!” Constantine threw his hands up in the air furiously. “I’ll go, but if we die it’s your fault!”

#danny phantom #dc x dp #fanfiction #jason todd #dead on main #my writing #batman #bruce wayne #john constantine #Hyena!Danny #tim drake #red hood

[royalarchivist]

Chatter: Missa mentioned wanting to take you to Japan twice on his stream so far, lol. If he ever offered, will you join him?

Phil: Yeah, we definitely want to go, we 100% want to go. Me and Kristin have talked about it loads, we just don't know when, but we definitely would love to go. And having someone like, take us places would be busted OP, that would be crazy. That would be really cool. Like, "Oh, take away all the stress of- of trying to figure out where to go and not knowing where to go? Sign me up."

Phil: Isn't he there with Roier right now? [Laughs] I swear that dude should live in Japan, like, he- he should live there at this point. He's there more than he is at home! [Reading chat] "They are" I saw their stories, I was like, "They are in Japan again." When I saw– I was like "No fcking shot." I mean, Roier is bound to be having a good time, I bet. It's probably much better than fcking melting in Mexico right now with the heat. [Reading chat] "He loved Japan so much" yeah, I could tell from like, all the times he's gone, and then also when we were in Brazil, he saw a store that had like– it was just like, specifically like, Japanese stuff. Like, little like food, drink, little like, gadgets, homeware stuff. And he just like, gravitated towards it. He just went– [Phil leans off-camera] and we were just "Ok, alright, we're going in here?" [Laughs] And he said he's gonna buy too many things and to tell him to like, stop if he's got too much in his hands, like, take things off of him.

#Philza #Phil plays Hardcore #QSMP #MissaSinfonia #May 20 2024 #Phil #Missa

[cosycafune]

NORMAL GIRL; SATORU GOJO.

a summary: normalcy isn't something you usually have, especially in the jujutsu world. but the moment satoru gojo came along, he treated you as a normal girl. satoru taught you what it meant to be loved, not admired.

synopsis of acts: brief mention of self-harm, marginalisation, comfort, learning to love someone for them.

In life, you are someone who's at a stalemate. When the trees sing and sway, you stand and stare -- admiring the beauty but not capturing it. When new shoes surface in the market, you are the type to catch a pair when it's too late -- a new trend arising. Frankly, you always felt like you were falling behind in the petty sectors of love.

Despite admiration being bestowed upon you, praise and subtle bluffs, you had still never been in a relationship. It wasn't something you tried to prioritise, but there were so many aspects of you in a marginalised society that disadvantaged you.

Through your beauty and your irreplaceable light, there's also this indispensable gloom that arises from critical others. Simply, people adored you enough to admire and fantasise about you, but you knew well enough that they would never put themselves in a position to openly flaunt or want to carry your heart.

That was until you discovered Satoru Gojo, a man who sewed himself into loving all the things about you that others were too scared to admit aloud. At first, his obnoxiousness curled you into yourself -- until you discovered the beauty within his love.

Satoru admired every fragment of you, spoiling you effortlessly in a way no one had ever treated you -- in your gloomy past. You were never a first or second option, but something that was monitored but never chosen.

But, Satoru asked you to choose him. Through every moment the two of you faced, Satoru ensured your comfort above all. His heart would always swirl at your natural hairstyle, your braids, the beauty of your culture that you would always suppress. Satoru embraced every part of you, telling you that you are beautiful through every mental breakdown, through every trial and error you went through, and the cruelty of society on you.

Despite the differences between you and Satoru, in many ways, he still devoted himself to loving you and treating you in ways you thought you were undeserving of. Even with having depictions forced on you, Satoru always made sure to never enable any -- his heart set upon smearing you with fondness.

Sometimes, you would cuddle up in bed -- wondering what you did to deserve someone like him. Someone who flaunted you in front of his mother, unwilling to compare you to the stereotypical women that linger. You were all that mattered to him, someone he coddled and allowed to develop a dependency with him. Independency was something you rarely held around him, especially with how clingy and loving you also are with him.

Satoru stood up for you, annihilating any subtle anxiety cue with his light hand squeezes, the effort he put into meeting your mum and being respected by your family. Satoru truly loved you, authentically. It isn't a way that lurks with cunning fetishes, whirled with the distaste of a flawed persona. It's in a way of respect, love, honour, integrity and something that completes you wholely.

Consistently, you always wished you were a normal girl. But, Satoru granted your wish -- casting you into a place of normalcy that made you feel comfortable and loved. He gave you a space to grow with him, lighten up and be seen as a person.

Marginalisation isn't a concept around Satoru, since Satoru does everything he needs to do to cheer and slowly heal you. He always offers the world to you, knowing he would reconstruct the world at any given moment for you. Even if it meant fully eradicating the days or people that made you feel less.

Satoru knew you held more value than anyone, and no one else mattered to him. Despite being cast in the unfair Jujutsu world, Satoru spent every inch of himself reforming parts of society so you felt safer. So you could freely watch the blossom flowers bloom in spring, kissing his lips with everything you had. He manmade so many things to observe the gentle twinkle in your eyes, each time you had tears in your eyes, simply because he went above and beyond.

Poetically, Satoru would pluck every fragment of shattered glass within the grass, uncaring if others attempted to wound his palm with scattered cuts. If it meant hurting others in the way they hurt you, Satoru would do it in a heartbeat. A way that resembles muscle memory. He'd do it whenever you were busy with something else, assuring you with a lulling peace that had never come in waves until you had met him.

Normalcy was something you had never acquired before, but Satoru gave you everything that you had never held before.

Satoru Gojo treated you as a normal girl.

--

do not copy my work, at all. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024.

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk satoru #satorugojo #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x black!reader #gojo x black y/n #satoru gojo x black reader #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk angst #gojo angst #satoru gojo angst

[viceversa-666]

2nd Chances

Nico and I have been friends since we were kids. We did every single thing together. From coloring in kindergarten to joining the wrestling team in high school, we were ceremonial twins essentially despite are vastly different racial backgrounds. Hell we even came out as Bi to one another at the same time.

We were always on the same page until we got to college. It's so silly in retrospect. I could have never foreseen that we would like the same person and that it would lead to such a big fight that we both stormed off to cool down. He went for a run on campus and I got in my car and sped off, but so did this speeding truck that ran a red light.

I was in the hospital for 3 months and every day Nico would stop by and stay by my side crying, pleading, wishing for me to wake up. But when that 3rd month ended, so did doctor's hope that I would ever wake up.

I remember hearing Nico hysterically crying telling the doctors to fix me. There was no fixing me.

The night before they were set to take me off life support, Nico layed in my hospital bed with me. That's when he made the wish.

"I don't want to lose you Emil but I'm going to live out everything you've wanted to accomplish. I just wish I could do more so you could be the one to live our your dreams."

I woke up the next day and picked up my phone...what? How am I picking up my phone? Wait this isn't my phone? But it unlocked to my face? I fiddled my fingers to open up the selfie camera.

"Nico?" I gasped.

The bed I was in was empty. Someone from the hospital came to break the news to me that "Emil" passed away at night ahead of them disconnecting "him" from life support. They had staff place me in another bed while "his" family mourned.

"If I'm Nico does that mean...no....it can't"

I couldn't believe this he didn't make a wish to die, but then I sensed I wasn't alone. I got up and searched the room. But no one was there. Instead I heard a voice but it was inside my head.

"Hello? What's going on?" the voice said.

I couldn't wrap my head around all of these new developments. I felt like I was about to faint and honestly thought I did. But then the body I'm in braced itself and spoke out loud without me doing it.

"Woah. What just happened? I was like watching myself move but not controlling?" Nico's body said.

That's when it clicked

"Nico is that you in here?" I yelled in an exasperated glee.

Nico and I headed to a cafe where he got a coffee and we spoke in our weird new internalized way. I told him to put his headphones on so no one would think he was crazy.

We never thought a wish would lead to something beyond scientific explanation. It felt like we were always hugging one another, just surrounded by each others platonic love. I was so glad I didn't have to lose him even though it meant I lost my body.

Weeks went by and it was hard for me. Anytime I took control of Nico's body I felt like I was putting a show on pretending. But that's not me. I think the best perk of being in the same body was Nico being present and co-experiencing my emotions.

"You don't have to pretend to be me. We can just make a new 'Nico'. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you're unhappy or trapped Emil." Nico said giving me the closest thing he could to a consoling hug.

Over the next few days we talked about boundaries about our new Nico.

No partners without both agreeing. No major tattoos and piercings without both agreeing. You might be sensing a theme here. The new Nico was a democracy, but at least I didn't have to be hyper masculine like I thought he wanted me to be. If anything my flamboyant nature was something he said he always wanted to channel more but felt too insecure to do.

Becoming one person felt like we were actually 2 halves finally returning together for the greater good.

But at the end of the day, we're still 2 college aged bi dudes. When we went out it was the best of both world times 2. We turned looks that channeled both our vibes but also our drive was insatiable. It may just be one body but partners had to please 2 sex drives.

In the semi-rare occasion we both agreed on one person to go home with, we destroyed them, especially men. Those became our favorite interactions only because it was easier to flip and f*ck.

I'd start leading them on letting them think they'd get to top such a beefy and submissible bottom which was true. Nico's body was not a bottom before I got here but he absolutely should have. His butt was almost asking to be spread and eaten. These thighs from years of wrestling and collegiate sports allowed me to just ride for an hour if I wanted. By the time they were done and we're glistening in sweat and panting, Nico tagged in.

He's the definition of a fuckboy with the way he lays pipe. He knew all the right ways to treat you before impaling you with his sizably thick dick. I'll never forget the face of the first guy we flipped. He was looking at us so surprised with eyes that almost look like he was hungry for us. Back and forth, thrusting until they moan unbelievably loud from the lengthy sessions. I don't know how NIco was cumming before but he's definitely cumming enough for 2 people with the way we climax now.

We're glad to be together now....no more than anything I'm glad to be Nico now, too.

#male tf #male transformation #male takeover #male body possession

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

Dating Yandere Aventurine hc's

Obviously tw for toxic relationship dynamic and so on, but it's really mostly fluff tbh

It's not the moment that he lays eyes on you, nor the first time he hears your lovely voice, that sparks his interest

It's later, after a few interactions, that he's left wondering why exactly do your eyes look like that in the sunlight, why can't he help thinking about the last words you said to him, and why on earth does he want to remember how your palms feel against his...

It's annoying, a stupid little weakness that's he's really hoping fizzles out with the rest of his long lost desires

It's even more annoying when it doesn't...

He wants to be around you, to see you happy and content... Wants to be the one that causes that

He tries to appease his little crush in subtle ways

Buying you gifts, taking you out, reluctantly opening up, all hoping for a reaction that would kill that desire, just any emotion that would convince him you weren't the perfect person he's built you up to be

All for not... Every little reaction just grows his want, multiplies his need to have more of you

After fully coming to terms with that, he'll try courting you casually, playing up his charm, his nonchalance

As if his emotionally distant performance can cover the fact that he's only getting more desperate

He's lying to himself, trying to convince his own heart that he doesn't need you

That he doesn't spend every waking second imagining you right beside him, all the pretty expressions you'd make and amusing remarks that'd pull a genuine smile from his lips

It's a coping mechanism, but a poor one in comparison with really have you there

And why can't you be there...?

Texting becomes much more common

Various pictures and paragraphs meticulously detailing where he is and what he's doing, in the hopes that you might choose to show up of your own accord

Silly little good morning or good night texts played off as a joke, as if he isn't anxiously awaiting confirmation that you're still happy and well

He's always been good at reading people, a skill of his trade really, so your emotions are like an open book

Anyone you want him to be, he'll play the part flawlessly

A rich flirty playboy? An impulsive and fearless gambler? Maybe a doting attentive lover? All of those are masks he will happily adorn

You'll know something's up when the gift giving starts to get a little heavy handed

Gorgeous expensive bouquets with his calling card, very pretty jewelry (most of which includes a familiar looking green gemstone), and really a variety of other small gifts that fit in line with interests you told him about in passing

He'll claim complete ignorance to the amount, stating he's only buying what reminds him of you (which is pretty much every little thing he sees—)

And "Oh don't worry, dear friend. Consider it a token of good will! Can't have you forgetting about me.~"

He'll make himself quite a nuisance if you don't eventually give in to his little games

Though his work schedule keeps him from actively stalking you, it's not uncommon for suspicious looking IPC personal to be seen whenever you're out in public

He's just paranoid, really, that's all it is...

He couldn't live with himself if his darling went and got themself hurt

When officially together, you're probably going to spend a lot of time with him...

He'll make his office more accommodating for you! You can decorate your space however you desire, nothing is too good for his love

It generally helps his morale to have you around at work too

He's not nearly as stressed and short tempered with his beautiful perfect love always at arms length, read to be scooped up and showered in affection when he needs a break

"Oh come onnnn... It'd be so boring without you. You wouldn't leave me all alone, right...?" He coos, gently pulling you by your waist closer to him with a needy grin, eyes shining slightly as he tilts his head, pressing a soft little kiss to your wrist before glancing up at your eyes.

It's enough of a difference that the IPC might actually start giving you a paycheck under the title of "emotional support employee" simply to avoid having to deal with him when you're not around

He'll make it up to you by taking you out to fancy lunches, and dinners... and occasional breakfasts—

There's actually a good handful of days that he simply refuses to come in because he woke up with you laying on him and would physically rather die than move

His jealousy issues are a little more pronounced now, too...

He's hates having to get violent, really, but he has absolutely no qualms with calling out and publicly humiliating anybody for staring to long or being passively rude

But if anybody is being outright aggressive towards you, it's a completely different story

Don't they know who you belong to? How easily he could ruin their entire livelihood with a single phone call?

His eyes will narrow, his smile getting a little wider as his grip on you tightens, memorizing the persons face as it drops in realization, oh what a thrill~

He'll be an obsessive possessive mess, but there are worse things than being the sole focus of an attentive and devoted man...

Ignoring how he'd rather suffocate than see you smile so genuinely at anyone else with those perfect lips he just adores, of course

#honkai star rail #my hcs #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #I hope you know I'm picking these prompts by spinning a wheel

[brucewaynehater101]

Hiii!!!! Continuation on that Necromancer Tim au, what if in order to revive Jason, a life had to be exchanged for it? And this is gonna tie into that one undying joker au, but what if Tim decided to use joker for the ritual? He kills joker for Jason, which brings Jason back to life, but due to joker being undying his soul wasn't properly exchanged which is why despite the fact that Jason was revived, he was catatonic until he was dipped in the Evil Mountain Dew.

As for why Tim revived him, I feel like it would be partially revenge because Batman doesn't kill, but that doesn't mean Tim can't. He isn't Robin yet, so he cares less about killing. It could also be because Jason was taken too early. I heavily headcanon that Tim's favourite Robin was Jason (no hate on Dick's Robin, but Tim was a fan of the flying Graysons and Dick himself.) Maybe he got attached. Maybe it's some other reasons. But mainly, maybe he killed Joker for the ritual because maybe then Joker can actually be good for something for once in his life.

Bruce, of course, doesn't find out because undying Joker was revived again and just went back to business as usual. Your choice if Joker Junior still happens in this au, but if it does, It would be as some sort of twisted revenge from Joker, I guess? You loved Jason enough to try and kill me, so now you'll become like me, or smth like that. Additional angst if Jason finds out about that.

Moreover, this could be seen as Tim taking the burden of killing from Bruce (cuz he doesn't know about the whole undying thing yet), because (if I remember correctly, please correct me if I'm wrong) Jason was seriously against killing too back when he was still alive, and even tried to stop Bruce from killing someone. So, in order to keep Jason's perception of Bruce once he's back and alive positive, Tim takes on the burden on killing so that Jason will only be mad at him, not Bruce.

Hello again!! 👋

Alright! Let's tie those two AUs together (Tim revives Jason via magic with a price, and Joker is undying combined with JJ)! It sounds like fun ^^

Let's do a timeline

10 year old Tim Drake gets captured by Joker

Jason goes with Dick to hang with the Titans

Bruce finds Tim with the Joker. Tim kills Joker. They assume he's forever dead.

Bruce brings Tim back to the cave only for the kid to sneak out. Bruce never finds out his identity nor tells Jason/Dick about JJ

Joker comes back to life. Bruce and Tim assume that they just didn't check his pulse well enough (Batman left the body there for GCPD to deal with the traumatized child)

Tim spends the next two or so years reading mental health books to heal himself. Maybe he gets an anonymous therapist or something

Jason dies

Tim blames himself for not ensuring Joker was dead. He figures he might as well guarantee it sticks. What better way than to bargain his soul for Jason's?

The ritual goes wrong cause immortal Joker sucks

Tim is convinced Jason didn't revive at all and leaves the graveyard.

Jason catonically boogies his way into LoA's grasp

Tim becomes Robin cause what else is he supposed to do with Sir Beats-a-Lot?

Tim keeps on killing as Robin behind Bruce's back very very occasionally so as to not get caught. He figures he tried to kill Joker twice and killed Jason (by fucking up the ritual). With his thirteen year old logic, that means he's a killer forever. Might as well lean into it.

I love the other bits you've added about what Tim's mindset was like during these times. I'd so like to see what both Jason and Tim are thinking/feeling as they learn what the other went through

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #jason todd #thank you for the ask!!!! #dc au

[my-castles-crumbling]

Gentle

okay so someone tagged me in a post with this headcanon but now I can't find it....so just know that James going from gentle to not isn't my original idea. NSFW, explicit, minors DNI, @starchasersunseeker something to cheer you up :P

Regulus appreciated James Potter for so many things. His kind nature, his admittedly attractive physique, this way of just knowing what Regulus needed at any point in time. James loved Regulus in a way he'd never been loved before. He treated him like something to be cherished. Worshipped. Revered.

But now?

Regulus wanted to be fucked.

"Harder, James," he murmured, wrapping his legs around the small of James's back, locking his ankles, allowing the man to enter him even deeper, closer to the spot inside him that he ached to have pounded relentlessly.

"Don't wanna hurt you, baby," James gasped, the friction causing his movements to go a bit sloppy.

But Regulus was done. He was frustrated, and agitated, and admittedly horny, and he wanted to be fucked so hard he forgot his name. "James," he gasped, reaching up to grasp at the taller man's jaw, to their eyes met, "we've talked about this. And if you don't fuck me like you mean it right now, I swear-"

But the combination of the way their bodies were connected and Regulus's irritated begging must have done something to James. Because all of a sudden, his eyes were full of passion, instead of just adoration. "You sure?" he whispered, though his grip on Regulus had already intensified.

"Yes, James, fuck, I-"

But before Regulus could finish, James pulled out of him in one movement, leaving him empty and a bit annoyed, and strong hands flipped him over onto his stomach. "James-" he gasped, unsure if he was annoyed or turned on.

"On your hands and knees, love," James ordered softly, and the authority in his voice went straight to Regulus's already-hard cock, a bead of precome dripping as his mouth flew open in shock.

He scrambled into position, and without warning, James gripped his hips entered him all at once, slamming home with one thrust.

This time, when Regulus said the other man's name, it was with a long, drawn-out moan, and his brain immediately felt deliciously blurry.

"There you go, baby. Taking me so well," James grunted, continuing to thrust into Regulus deeply and completely, hitting that spot inside him that made him see stars every time.

In the back of his mind, Regulus wondered where this James had come from. Where James had learned to talk like this. But he was already a babbling mess, mumbling, "Yes, Jamie, harder," so it was hard to really contemplate that.

And then, hands snaked around to his chest, pulling him up so he was on his knees, his back pressed into James's chest, the other man's hand splayed across his tightening stomach muscles. "Good," James mumbled, fingertips pressing into Regulus's front as his thrusts began to make him fall apart, his legs turning to jelly and his body lighting aflame, pleasure pooling in his spine.

"Yes," Regulus moaned wantonly, high-pitched noises forcing themselves from his throat. He pushed himself back onto James, all-but-sitting in his lap, needing him to be still deeper, needing them to be as close as possible, needing to be completely taken apart by the man who was surrounding him with his arms, kissing his neck, biting at his shoulder.

"Come for me, darling," James mumbled, grabbing one of Regulus's hips and pulling him even farther backwards, circling their bodies together into a delicious grind as his other hands began to work at Regulus's red, aching cock. "Come on, baby, god, you feel so perfect, so tight-"

When Regulus came, he moaned in a way that was quite out-of-body, his arse pushing farther back onto James's cock while his entire back arched, his release painting James's hand and the bed. James, on the other hand, let out a shout, curling into him, spurting warmth inside his body as he too, fell over the edge.

After they fell onto the bed, tangled in each other's arms, James placing gentle kisses on Regulus's warm skin, Regulus mumbled with a grin, "Fuck. Harder next time, yeah?"

#marauders #marauders era #harry potter #fanfic #marauders fandom #harry potter marauders #the marauders #the maruaders #the marauders fandom #the marauders era #james #james fleamont potter #james potter #james x regulus #james and regulus #james potter/regulus black #james potter x regulus black #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #james loves regulus #regulus deserved better #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fanfiction #starchaser #sunseeker

[ohsunnyboy]

stopping me now | jung sungchan ˚₊‧⁺˖

early mornings, bitter coffee and jung sungchan, all staples of your office life until one morning goes wrong just right

TAGS: office!au, gn!reader, romcom type of vibe, forced proximity, strangers to lovers, sorta mutual pining, awkward!reader who is rly intense abt their spreadsheets

A/N: office au is my fav au so sungchan in one is my ultimate self-indulgence! sorry it's been a while :] (first riize fic let's goooo)

WORDS: ~1950

Jung Sungchan is missing.

Ding! 

You don't actually know each other. Counting the months, it's been almost a year of standing in silent acknowledgement within this tiny elevator. In fact, you shouldn't even know his name! You only managed to find it out when he dropped his lanyard when you two were clocking out, and you picked it up for him, but he only blushed, yelped his thanks and ran!

Was he hiding unapproved invoices? was his department over budget? you swear that the accounting department isn't that scary!

Ding!

Should standing in an elevator for nearly fifteen minutes count as your morning commute? It really shouldn't but here you are. The coffee in your hands went cold about 5 floors ago, the usual ache in your feet is starting to kick in, and you can feel the humidity wreaking havoc on your hair. You really do want to curse out the big shot who thought that having offices on the 40th floor was a good idea. Partly, you think that Sungchan would also curse them out as well.

By floor thirty something, you almost fall asleep before a familiar sight steps into the lift. And unfortunately enough, he looks to be in the same state as you are.

Ready to murder, or be the first one to die in said horror film. You wonder if Sungchan likes horror movies too. Every office worker should: it gets the stress out very well. In fact, he might’ve been staying up late watching them; the bags under his eyes really don’t compliment the lack of caffeine in his hands. You almost feel half tempted to give him your own cold cup to help tide his morning over.

Sungchan slots right into place at the back of the elevator next to you. His broad shoulders knocking into you slightly due to the cramp of the lift.

After a year of it, you’d like to think you’re used to the space he takes up in your life; physically and mentally.

The thing is, for a guy that works an office job, Jung Sungchan is not a bad looking man at all. Always looking like he's attending the first day of school with a pressed collar and ironed tie, it's hard to look... and not fall in love with him in the process. Never once in your commuting life have you ever seen a hair out of place on him. He's closest you've ever physically gotten to the picture of corporate happiness and 100% customer satisfaction, while you get into daily arguments with your Excel spreadsheet.

Ding!

A trolley of files comes wheeling into the cube of claustrophobia, forcing you to squeeze further into the corner until you find yourself between a cold corner and a warm place. The thought of whatever department’s budget goes flying out the window when — Ah.

The smell of citrus falls over you like a waterfall. Sungchan’s cologne must be dumped in his hair because it’s suddenly all you know. It makes you dizzy, so much so, that you barely notice him sheepishly grinning down at you. He’s leant on his forearm, next to your head, caging you in, and his other is desperately trying not to dig his messenger bag into your side.

"So sorry about this," he whispers. It feels conspiratorial in the tight space, but almost everyone else has earbuds in and probably have bigger things to worry about.

You tilt up to look at him, not forgetting to linger on the long column of his throat exposed by his grey suit. "S'fine,” you mumble up to him, sorely aware of the way his wide eyes stare into yours. "Nice to meet you?" you eke out. You try and go for casual and smooth, but your heart sounds like a clattering of the subway: raucous in your ears.

Maybe it has been a year of pining away. Staring after Sungchan and his unfairly good proportions and rolling mountain shoulders. You don’t know how the PR interns haven’t already kidnapped him to make some sexy corporate calendar. However, you do know that it would increase revenue for the entire first quarter and save you about 10 less board meetings on budget caps. The content of said photoshoots is all you can dazedly think about as he shifts again, shuffling further into the wall and further into your mental mess.

Ding!

Sungchan’s smile is wicked as it breaks you from your thoughts. "Lovely to meet you, elevator buddy." And he sends you an overconfident wink for your efforts – with a small blush to dash. “Would love to shake your hand but, we’re ah – a bit occupied.”

You quirk a brow. “Elevator buddy?”

Sungchan’s grin doesn’t relent, even at your scrunched expression. "I've spent the past year calling you that, you're not stopping me now.” He says the last bit under his breath, as the lady with the trolley backs up even further into him and pushes him impossibly closer to you. His lips end up skimming your forehead and sending an involuntary chill down your spine, while your right hand ends up flat on his chest, your left jammed awkwardly into your side with your coffee.

Pull it together, please God, pull it together.

“The last year?” Is all you can get out coherently. It’s impossible to take deep breaths when every thought in your head is being thrown out of a metaphorical window. Citrus and smoke, hands and lips, months and quarters. This elevator crush is going to haunt you for life if you go back to silence after all this. Stop asking questions damn it!

Sungchan hums, the sensation sinking into your bones. “It’s about then, no? It was my first time in the building because it was the BigHit and Pledis merger last year,” he says, awfully fond. “You had a massive dossier of balance sheets, and I crashed into you in the elevator lobby because you never saw me. Your papers went everywhere!” Sungchan trails off in a laugh, however your mind starts taking very careful steps back into the past…

You barely remember last year. Only the stress piling up on your table from one too many days working after hours in the quiet with Eunseok. The grid lines of spreadsheets permanently etched onto your screens and into your retinas. Neither company was willing to give an inch for each other in spite of the whole “merger” idea, forcing far too many revisions, far too close to the deadline those prissy higher ups set. And so, the entire fate of departments rested on your two heavily overworked shoulders.

Running into someone like Sungchan would have never crossed your mind then. Being all wrapped up in your stress, there was no way you’d pay that much attention to a pretty face. One incident in particular though… ding!

“Wait… you’re the one that spilt their pretentious oat milk chai latte on the finalised budget reports?!” You don’t even know if that was his actual drink order but all you remember was flying into a fit of red rage when green bled all over your precious, freshly printed work.

To hell with kissing him; a kiss with your fist was way more overdue. 

Sungchan practically squawks as he jumps to justify himself. “I didn’t spill anything! I just accidentally walked into you and the papers – and my latte ­– went flying! Not my fault.” His hand snakes down from the wall and onto yours resting on his chest. If you could physically look him in the eyes, you’d be sure there’d be some fire of determination in them.

Now, it’s his heartbeat, clattering under your ear like the ticking of keycaps; it’s his heat, sticking his shirt under your palm like tack; it’s his voice, shaking like an intern at the barest critique. His hand dwarfs yours: long fingers tracing the lines of yours. 

Your temper matches in step with your heart, beating against your mind in double time. “Do you know how long it takes to print double sided for a full dossier?! All of it to end up on the floor, covered in your hipster green tea latte! I have full authority to half whatever budg—"

Ding!

— “Hey, you two, this is your floor.” The tired voice of general manager Kim Doyoung chirps in. Red floods your face at the thought of someone watching you lose your head. Nevertheless, Doyoung watches on with a boredom only he could achieve. “You, save the death threats for feedback week, and Sungchan — don’t mess with someone from accounting.”

Sungchan takes the hint and peels himself off you, the smell of citrus still making you dizzy. The crowd barely parts, but he uses his size, pushing the way for the both of you. His enormous hand holding yours through the crowd and guiding you out of the cube of stress. When the doors whir shut behind you, he takes your empty coffee cup and dumps it into the bin.

Never would you think you’d be left hand in hand with Sungchan in an isolated elevator lobby. He’s still clasped onto you with a vice grip: his heat searing into your palms like hot iron. It burns being this close. The buzzing AC in the lobby being the only thing keeping you alive.

Nobody talks for a second, letting the silence say it’s piece before your mouth starts moving before you’ve processed what it’s doing. "If anyone reports us to HR, I am so so sorry.”

Sungchan takes a breath, blinking those wide doe eyes at you before his face splits into a grin. “No, don’t worry. I don’t think Doyoung-hyung will kick up much fuss,” he smiles.

Only now do you remember Doyoung is the head of HR and your heart kicks into double time again, but how is Sungchan so calm about this? As if reading your mind, he squeezes your hand to reassure you before dropping your it. “Stop looking so worried! Just look.” He pulls his lanyard out from where he usually stashes it in his breast pocket, and you nearly trip over your feet when you see it.

"I am HR." What the hells.

The look on your face must give it all away as Sungchan’s laugh echoes in the empty elevator lobby. And hells, the kid – is he even younger than you?? – knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger. "Maybe I will just file a complaint,” he says with a smile. “What was that again? Threatening to half our department budget?”

He tilts his head all coy like he’s not the one at fault here. The audacity, really. You shake your head in mild disbelief and shrug off your nerves. Oh, you know what? Might as well go for it. What’s stopping you now? Definitely not HR.

"Bold words from someone who singlehandedly setback the entire Bighit-Pledis merger back by a whole day,” you counter, head raised in even challenge. Sensible accountant alarm bells are ringing in your mind, but you clamp down on them. “Shouldn’t you, be making up to me?”

It’s your turn to fan your lashes and pout your lips. Savouring in the way he pretends to think and avoid staring at your pouted lips.

"There might just be something..." His long fingers pull you in by the lapels, just a hair away. A blush must flush all the way down you from the way his eyes light up. You watch his lips curl into that grin of his, already thinking about what’s next. Citrus and smoke, hands and lips, months and quarters.

"Not here, sweetness." And his smile is just as deadly as yours.

Fuck the spreadsheets. You’ve got a private meeting in board room #127 with corporate happiness.

hope i haven’t lost my touch :) thanks sm for reading and if you enjoyed, a reblog would be nice to help encourage more <3 ⭒ masterlist

#you can pry office aus out of my cold dead hands #riize #riize x reader #jung sungchan x reader #kpop #kpop fanfic #office au #jung sungchan imagines #jung sungchan fanfic #jung sungchan fluff #riize imagines #riize fluff #jung sungchan #fanfiction

[koshkamartell]

No One But Me

masterlist

previous

If you were going to live a life pretending to be happy with Joel, you were not going to allow him to completely oppress you.

You stopped speaking to him unless necessary, essentially ignoring him. You dedicated more of your time planning lessons. You spent alot of time out in the garden despite the freezing cold. You read your books and sipped your tea - you even found you started to like the way the chill pierced your lungs whenever you inhaled deeply. I reminded you that could still enjoy freedom in other ways outside the house.

The little rush you get from ignoring Joel is addictive. It could have been considered pathetic to anyone else but it makes you feel powerful in a way you had never felt before.

You became slower to attend to your house duties because you were often too preoccupied with daydreaming. When Joel reminded you to be more prompt in washing the dishes he was sure you rolled your eyes at him. Sometimes you would mumble something that he couldn't quite catch with his bad hearing, but when he'd question what you said you would just say "nothing, Joel".

Joel got frustrated with you more and more often because of your carelessness. His harsh words soon turned into rough grabs and shoves, then they progressed into slaps.

You had forfeited your friendship with Oscar to protect him from Joel. That was not going to change. You remember the rumours that had circulated around town about Joel's propensity for violence when he and Ellie first arrived. Considering what he has done to you, there is no doubting Joel would take great pleasure in torturing Oscar. You would rather disappear from Oscar's life than risk Joel potentially killing him just for talking to you.

Although you feared for Oscar, you did not fear for your own safety. Not any longer. Joel had already hurt you as much as he could and you had survived. What was another slap? What was another bruise to add to the rest of the purple-yellow clusters that mottled your skin? Whatever punishment he deemed fit would be worth suffering, just for the reminder that your heart was still beating with life and love.

Although your spirit had grown stronger and more independent it is still impossible for you to completely relax. You simply cannot when Joel is a constant dark shadow following you, the wicked source of both your pleasure and your misery, the man who wants nothing more than to hurt and possess you.

Joel not only invades your body, but you swear he is beginning to invade your thoughts, too. His presence seems to pervade your surroundings at all times. Even when he isn't at home and you are alone in the house you feel like you are being watched. You know it isn't logical and that he's either on patrol or at the bar, but it does little to alleviate the unsettling feeling of being spied on.

At times you feel like he can read your mind and it makes you question your sanity. He always seemed to be one step ahead of you, always calculating your next move before you could even think of it.

Like when you planned to ask him for extra time allowance to go to the market for food and had discovered he already went shopping and stocked up on as much food as his rations would allow. You searched through the pantry and fridge and were astounded by the plenitude of food.

Never before had you seen another person's pantry so well stocked with flour and fruits, or so much butter, milk and eggs all in one single fridge. You almost allowed yourself to believe that maybe he had done it to prove his dedication to you, to demonstrate how he cared about you and wanted you to eat.

But that was probably a farfetched idea, you concluded. He was no longer the tender and loving Joel that he had been in the recent weeks. His personality had morphed once again, disorientating you even more.

From that point on the house had an abundance of food at all times, leaving you with no excuse not to cook or to go out to fetch ingredients without him.

Fine, you decided, if you couldn't get time outside then you would try harder to limit your proximity to Joel. He may have coerced you into living with him but you didn't have to share his bed.

You gathered your pillow and headed to one of the spare rooms with the intention of setting up a cosy nest in privacy. But when you tried to open the door you had found it locked, perhaps for the first time ever.

Strange, you thought, before moving onto the next room down the hallway.

When you went to enter the second bedroom you had discovered its door was also locked. You rattled the handle fruitlessly, growling with frustration, then kicked at the door.

Ofcourse Joel locked them, you chided yourself. Because he knew you'd try isolate yourself.

Because sleeping in the spare rooms weren't an option you tried the next best thing - the couch. Joel walked into the living room just as you were spreading a blanket and pillow over the couch and he understood your intention right way.

"No," he grunted. He scooped you up and carried you all the way upstairs, ignoring your thrashing and protests. He took you into the master bedroom and dumped you unceremoniously onto his mattress.

"Knock it off," he scowled. You just glared at him and he shook his head at you.

"Last warnin'," Joel cautioned sternly. "Next time I'll tie you to this damn bed."

You don't doubt he would, so you resign yourself to sleeping in his bed every night. Atleast the heat from his body keeps you warm, you think. And when you startle awake from another horrible dream in the middle of the night, sobbing and with your heart pounding, it's Joel's arms that hold you tight. It's Joel's gravelly voice that whispers soothing phrases into your hair. In some kind of unspoken paradoxical illusion it is his enduring presence that ultimately assuages your distress.

••••••

Having you living in his home has awoken a new depth of perversion in Joel that he cannot temper. It excites him to know you sit waiting for him to return home every night like a good little housewife, that your pretty face and your sweet scent will greet him when he steps through the door after a long stint on patrol.

His cock thickens in his pants to think of how accessible your body is now that you are essentially a prisoner in his house with no where to run and hide. Joel has even contemplated the idea of tying you to the bed each night; mostly for his pleasure and to reinforce your position beside him, but also to fuck with your head a bit.

Maybe he can tie you up and take some more perverted pictures of you sometime. The possibilities are endless, especially now that he's resolved not to give a fuck about your feelings. Despite the pathological love he feels for you, the embers of hatred still smoulder inside Joel; it urges him to hurt you, to break your will.

Your attitude lately was really starting to piss him off. Your behaviour reminded him of a sullen teenager at times - you barely talked to him and always evaded him in favour of being alone with your books. You had even started sitting on the steps of the back porch to read, a blanket draped over your shoulders to protect you from the evening chill.

He had a good mind to burn those fucking books.

It felt like you were toying with him with some sort of strategic psychological game to purposely anger him. And it was working. But like a moth to the flame his hunger for you is more insatiable than ever; like he wants to drain the life from you and devour you whole, as if your arousal is the essence in which keeps his blackened heart beating. He is greedy in his quest to ravish you.

Joel marks you in any place that can be concealed by your clothing. Your breasts and stomach are littered with purple hickies and the imprint of teeth, as are your thighs and the flesh of your ass cheeks. Joel tries to restrain himself from marking your neck gratuitously though; he doesn't want to raise any suspicions but he is also too possessive to allow you to walk around with prominent hickies all over your neck. He doesn't want some asshole looking at you and thinking you're easy.

You have come to know that there is no point in trying to resist Joel's advances anymore, either, because he just ends up taking from you anyway. Your refusal only spurns him on and feeds his obsessive compulsion to dominate you, and the more you resist him the more determined he is to break you.

When you kick at him and smack at his face and chest Joel silences you with heavy slaps across your face. He likes to slap you - on your cheeks, your ass, your breasts - so he can see the bloom of his red hand print on you.

He wins the battle of wills between you and he over and over again. And as much as you fucking hate him there is no denying the rapacious magnetism you and Joel share. You may scratch and bite like a feral cat but it is all part of the game you play. He knows you can't resist him, even if you could never admit it to yourself.

"Told you I know you better than you think," he whispered tauntingly in your ear the other night, just after he had coaxed a mind blowing orgasm from you. "Don't forget this pussy is mine, baby girl."

Joel left you a whimpering mess, too fucked out to say anything in return to his boasting. He's never seen you squirt so much before, but his own orgasms seem more intense now, too. He is finding it increasingly more difficult not to cum inside you and fill your cunt with his load every time he has you. It feels like he's defying his natural instincts by pulling out and spilling his seed elsewhere.

Joel fights the urge to remain buried in you but it seems his ability to restrain himself wanes a little each time. Joel waits until the last couple of seconds to withdraw but he fights the urge to remain buried in you every time. His ability to restrain himself seems to wane a little more each time.

Fuck, Joel would love nothing more than to explode inside your perfect pussy. It is not that Joel wants to get you pregnant or have more children; infact just the thought of him fathering a child again makes his stomach clench anxiously. It's the act itself, internally marking you with his cum, that he so badly wants to indulge in.

Joel makes a mental note to check on his pill stash to see if there's any more plan b. He knows for sure that he still has pain killers and sleeping pills. They will come in handy for the future, he thinks, when he's sure you are both ready to move on from here.

Kate yawns as she carries her cup of tea from the kitchen to the living room, grateful for the the warmth of the mug heating the palm of her hand. Although she is wearing a thick sweater over two long sleeved shirts she still feels chilled. These past few months have been bitterly cold with no sign of reprieve, and like most Jackson residents she longs for the snow to ease and for the warm sunshine to return.

For Kate the early mornings during this time of year are the worst; she hates having to leave the refuge of her bed to go to work when the sky is still dark and the air is unforgiving and icy. Fortunately today she is able to enjoy a leisurely morning infront of the fireplace.

She is just about to sit down in one of the armchairs when three solid knocks rap on the front door.

"Who on earth...?" Kate mumbles to herself.

No one visits this early in the morning, unless maybe Maria or someone else from the committee are in search of a volunteer to fill a work duty for the day. Shit, she really hopes it isn't the case - she's really looked forward to her day off this week.

With her mug still in hand Kate shuffles to the door and turns the handle to pull it open. She's visibly surprised to be greeted by the sight of Oscar standing on her porch, his nose and his cheeks tinged with pink. The chill from the wind infiltrates the house immediately and Kate makes a hissing noise.

"Oscar!" she blurts out in surprise. "Matt has already left for work, you've just missed him, sorry."

She obviously assumes Oscar is at her front door calling on her brother, but Oscar shakes his head and narrows his gaze at her.

"I'm not here to see Matt," he speaks cheerlessly. "I'm here to see you."

Kate frowns, perplexed. "Huh? Me?"

"Yes Kate, I need to talk to you." Oscar replies firmly. "Let me in."

She is startled by the fixed solemnity within his striking brown eyes, how his usual jovial smile has been replaced by the grave downturn of his mouth. Kate realises she has never seen Oscar look so concerned before, and the realisation worries her.

She hurriedly steps aside to let him inside the house. "Ofcourse, Oscar, come in."

He stamps the snow from his boots before entering the house and Kate quickly shuts the door behind him. She ushers him into the living room and they end up perched on opposite ends of the couch by the crackling fireplace. She takes a sip of tea while eyeing him curiously.

Then a sudden wave of emotion crashes over her. There could only be one reason why her brother's friend is visiting her looking so forlorn.

"Oh my god!" Kate cries out. "Is it Matt? Please tell me Matt isn't hurt! He just left for work, what could have happened--"

Oscar immediately holds his hand out to quieten her.

"Kate, he's fine," he soothes.  "Matt is fine. He's not the reason I'm here."

"Oh, thank God." Kate exhales with relief.  "Holy shit Oscar, you scared me."

"I'm sorry," he apogises sincerely. "I didn't mean to worry you like that. But I'm here because I am worried."

"What's up, Oscar?" She asks gently.

The words tumble from Oscar's mouth without hesitation, as though he is desperate to divulge the burden of a secret.

He tells Kate everything. He tells her about how his crush on you developed into something more meaningful, that you shared a kind of deep connection with each other that he couldn't quite explain. He details to Kate about the night he confessed his feelings to you and about the subsequent note you had written him - the one that apologised for wasting his time and that said you couldn't be friends anymore.

Kate listens with rapt fascination, cycling through a range of emotions throughout Oscar's monologue; she sways from astonishment to delight, from bemusement to dismay. By the time Oscar concludes his story Kate's own face has morphed into a sombre scowl.

"I can see why you're worried," she admits quietly. "It all worries me, too."

Oscar sighs heavily and buries his face in his hands. "I didn't know if I was just getting all wound up over nothing, but it just doesn't feel right to me, Kate. I had to come and see what you think."

Kate tentatively sets her mug of now lukewarm tea on the coffee table before her. "Well, I have been a little concerned that we haven't seen her around lately. But when I asked about it she just said work has been really busy."

Kate gives a sheepish shrug. "I didn't really give it much thought after that. But now, after what you have said...maybe we need to do something."

Oscar slumps back into the couch and slaps his hands down onto his thighs. "She doesn't want to see me, Kate. What can I do?"

"I'll talk to her," Kate says firmly. "I'll go check in with her, maybe at her house. And I won't tell her you came to see me, so don't worry about that."

Oscar stares at Kate with gloom clouding his large brown eyes . "Please let me know what she says as soon as you can, Kate. Please. I have to know she's alright."

The strain is evident on Oscar's face and Kate feels a twinge of pity tug at her heart. She hopes this is all a big misunderstanding, that the intensity of his feelings have caused him to misread things and that you are perfectly fine. But now a seed of doubt has been planted in Kate's mind and she cannot be sure.

She just pats his shoulder reassuringly. "I will, Oscar. I promise."

••••••

Kate felt an overwhelming urge to talk to Rhi and seek some kind of guidance. Rhi had always been the more pragmatic one in your friendship group, the one everyone confided in and went to for advice, and now Kate felt she needed to hear Rhi's perspective on this whole situation.

That afternoon Kate bundled herself into her thick woolen coat and set off to the town square. She walked briskly across the town square toward Rhi's work. The haberdashery is located on the main street of Jackson tucked between a leather goods store and a shoe repair shop. Because the block of businesses provide essential services to the community there is always a steady trickle of people coming and going and bustling around the street outside. That afternoon was no exception and Kate had to manoeuvre around a cluster of people spread outside the leatherworks.

An older lady trudged out of the haberdashery and bumped into Kate's shoulder as she passed, grumbling something about crocheting needles. Kate sniggered to herself at the thought of sassy Rhi taming ill tempered customers with her quick wit and sharp quips.

The inside of the store is more spacious than what its exterior suggests. There are display cupboards lined against the walls that are full of tapes of ribbon and differently coloured and patterned stacks of material. The service counter in the middle is surrounded by panels of fabric and measuring rulers, chalk and large scissors. Towards the back of the store are atleast half a dozen wooden desks arranged in neat rows with sewing machines sat ontop of them. There are women flitting about the store carrying armfuls of material and baskets of wool, needles and an assortment of other tools.

Kate spotted Rhi emerging from the storeroom at the very back with a panel of rolled fabric in her hands. When Rhi noticed Kate approaching, she smiled warmly, a serene look flooding over her pretty features.

"Hey babe, what's up? I have to say, it's a pleasant surprise to see you here." She dumped the roll onto the counter. "Cheered my day up instantly."

Kate grinned. "Really? That bad, huh?"

Rhi snorted and reached over the clutter on the counter to retrieve a pair of scissors. "Yep," she said, emphasising the 'p' with a pop. "If Mrs. Letterman comes in here one more time to complain that the yarn is subpar and that's why she keeps messing up her knitting, I'll fucking scream."

Kate laughed and gave her a companionable pat on the shoulder. "Ah, always so much drama in the world of textiles."

Rhi rolled her eyes jovially and prepared to cut a swath from the fabric roll. "Uh-huh. So why are you here on your day off? Bored so you've come to keep me company?"

Kate was suddenly reminded of why she is there in the first place. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms, her cheery demeanour visibly shifting into a more sober expression. Rhi was too busy snipping the material to notice the change in her friend.

"Well, you see...Oscar actually came to visit me this morning," Kate began carefully.

"Oscar the fox?" Rhi interrupted with a grin, eyes still on the task infront of her. "What did he want?"

Kate took a breath and then recited a brief description of Oscar's concerns to Rhi, omitting how Oscar confessed his love to you. Kate could see the depth of his candor and knew it was something to be respected and kept private.

Rhi listened and waited patiently for Kate to finish speaking, then laid down the scissors and turned to face her friend.

"Wait, let me get this right. You're worried because you haven't seen her around much and she seems sad?" Rhi asked, one eyebrow cocked skeptically.

Kate sighed and shoot Rhi an unimpressed look of reproach.

"Come on, Kate! She's in the honeymoon phase," Rhi exclaimed and threw up her hands. "She's probably too busy getting fucked out of her mind and in love and finally enjoying a man."

Kate, used to her friend's informal attitude and candid way of speaking, just rolled her eyes at Rhi's crassness.

"God knows she's needed it," Rhi said with a smirk. "Oscar's probably got a little thing for her and is jealous or something."

"It's more than that, I think," Kate sighed again.

"You guys are worrying for nothing. I spoke to Joel just last night and everything seemed fine."

"What? Really?" Kate's eyes widened in surprise.

Joel never talks to anyone outside his group of patrol buddies. Infact, Kate wonders how someone as seemingly antisocial as Joel and someone as shy as you ever got together in the first place.

"Yeah!" Rhi smiled brightly. "He came up to me at the cafeteria and asked me if Beau was leaving me alone - he was checking up on me! Can you believe?" Rhi sighed wistfully. "What a man! Anyways, he said she was tired and chilling at home after work, that she said she wanted him to say sorry on her behalf for being so busy."

"I don't know," Kate mumbled dubiously. "She never comes to the mess hall anymore, or to any movie night. When I went to the school to see her, she was...I dunno, like scatterbrained."

"Hmm," Rhi hummed.

She tapped her fingers on her chin as she considered a course of action. "Alright then, let's invite her out to dinner and see what she says. Then we can get all the juicy details and see how she really is."

Kate nodded. "Good idea. I'll go see her later. I just hope you're right and she's not hiding something."

"When it turns out that she's just been busy getting dicked down, you owe me," Rhi smiled teasingly.

Kate had accosted you as you were leaving the school. She enveloped you in a big hug and pleaded with you to come have dinner with her and the girls tomorrow night. She had caught you so off guard that you hurriedly agreed.

It was only afterwards, as you walked home, that reality sunk in. Why did you say yes when Joel was so adamant about you not going anywhere? How were you going to convince him to let you go out?

But you had missed your friends so much; you really did want to see them and spend time with them like the old days. You had to try. You owed them atleast that.

Despite not wanting to be subservient to Joel, you know you have to be humble and supplicating if you want him to grant you permission to go out tomorrow night. You can't be too assertive or demanding so you wait patiently until after dinner, when he has showered and changed into his night clothes. He is always so much more relaxed with food in his stomach and a fresh set of clothes on his back.

You approach Joel as he sits in his armchair nursing a glass of whiskey. You stand infront of him and clasp your hands behind your back, your fingers nervously twisting together. His eyes rake up and down your body and his jaw ticks. You cannot decipher what his mood is like right at this moment, although he seemed tranquil during dinner.

"Joel," you begin with a gentle tone. "I was wondering if I could go have dinner at the mess hall tomorrow night. Kate has asked me to go."

"What do you think the answer is?" He says without missing a beat.

"B-but this is important--"

"No," he mutters dismissively.

"Joel, it's just having dinner at the cafeteria, that is all," you explain calmly. "And I haven't seen the girls for so long."

"No."

"But they will be expecting me to go--"

"Girl if you think you have any chance of goin' out you are sorely fuckin' mistaken." Joel snaps irritably.

He leans forward and throws back his shot of whiskey, then slams it down on the table beside him. You flinch when he then heaves himself out of his chair and advances on you, but still you cannot stop the deluge of words that come tumbling out of your mouth.

"I'll have dinner ready and waiting for you and I'll have everything around the house--"

"I said no. How many goddamn times do I have to tell you?" Joel raises his voice. "You are comin' straight home from work and that's it."

"But I'm not working tomorrow--"

You and Joel are interrupted by the sudden crashing sound of the front door slamming shut. The heavy bang reverberates throughout the lower ground floor of the house ominously.

You freeze on the spot while Joel quickly moves infront of you, protective and immediately ready to pounce at any threat of danger. Your hands cling to the material of his shirt.

You aren't really scared because Joel is with you, but the possibility of someone forcing their way into the house is still disturbing. You take a furtive peek from behind the solid of his flank to see just what is going on.

A figure emerges from the shadow of the hallway to reveal themself.

Ellie.

She stands at the entry way of the living room, her eyebrows creased and her mouth pulled into a grimace. She stares hard at Joel. She looks pissed off.

"Ellie," Joel says gently, his posture slackening. You let go of Joel's shirt and sigh with relief.

"What the fuck, Joel?" She grits out, her voice tight.

How much of the conversation did she hear? You wonder. Joel says nothing. He just stays silent and stares back at Ellie.

You wish you could see his face.

"Why does she have to be home straight after work?" Ellie demands loudly.

"Mind your business, Ellie." Joel shoots back, his tone quiet and serious.

"No, I wanna know!"

You step out from behind Joel and approach Ellie slowly. You have no idea what exactly she heard Joel say but you have to try maintain the pretence that everything is normal.

"He didn't mean it like what you think, El," you say gently, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"He didn't mean to tell you that you couldn't leave the fuckin' house?" Ellie spits bitterly, her eyes shifting between Joel and you.  "Because that's what it sounded like."

"Joel's just worried about my safety. There was a ranger who was bothering me and my friend at dinner a while ago. He was being threatening. Joel is just having a bit of trouble trusting that something like that won't happen again."

Your voice is soft and pacifying but even to your ears your words sound unconvincing and lame. You hate Joel for putting you in this position, for making you lie through your teeth to one of the most important people in your life.

Ellie stares at you, searching over your face. You can tell by the pinch of her brows and the uncertainty in her eyes that she's conflicted and doesn't know whether or not to believe you. When she doesn't move you take her hand in yours and give it a little squeeze.

"What's up, El? You come over for something to eat?" You ask, changing the topic while trying to sound more light-hearted. "I have some leftovers if you're hungry."

"I came over because I wanted to ask if you wanna get breakfast tomorrow," Ellie grumbles. "That's if you're allowed to." She shoots a pointed look at Joel.

"Yeah, I'd love that, El." You swiftly assure her, hoping the slightly breathless hitch in your voice doesn't give away the fact that your heart is racing. "It's my day off. We can even spend the whole day together, if you want."

Ellie's eyes drag from Joel to you and you give her an affirming little smile.

"Well, Uncle Tommy did set up the axe throwing thing again..." She says with an offhanded shrug.

You know this is Ellie's way of accepting your invitation; you bite back a smile, having to hide the relief that flows through you

"Awesome." You reply casually. "You can show me your skills tomorrow, then. Maybe even teach me how to do it."

She nods a little. "Cool."

The heavy tension in the air alleviates to some degree. You glance over at Joel; he's got his arms crossed and his eyes are fixated on Ellie, but like the typically stoic man he is, Joel gives no indication of what he's feeling or thinking.

"Do you wanna stay for a while?" You offer her.

With a flick of her wrist she flips the hood of her jacket up over her head. "Nah, gotta go meet Dina. I'll see ya tomorrow for breakfast."

"It's a date." You nod. "Meet you here at 8 and we can walk together."

"Okay." Ellie shifts hesitantly on her feet, glancing back to Joel and narrowing her eyes into suspicious slits. "You better not be acting like an asshole."

Joel rolls his eyes and scoffs. "I ain't. Now get outta here, kid."

You and Joel follow Ellie to the door to bid her goodnight. She stomps down the porch steps and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. The lamps lining the street glow above Ellie's lithe silhouette as she walks away.

You feel the anxiety drain from your body and your body momentarily sags against the door frame. You and Joel watch Ellie right up until she disappears into the next street.

As soon as you retreat back inside the house Joel clicks the door shut behind you. He moves swiftly to cage you between himself and the wall. He glares down at you with threatening hostility.

"You hurt that girl and I swear to God..." He whispers as he stares down at you. The strain of repressed emotion makes the timbre of his Southern accent thicker.

Your face crumples and you feel the instant threat of hot tears sting your eyes. Does Joel really believe you would ever be capable of purposely hurting Ellie? For all this time you have being sheilding her from the truth of your relationship with Joel just so she can have some kind of stable family life. You can honestly attest to doing whatever you can not to hurt Ellie. Can Joel not see that?

"Come on, Joel. I'd never hurt Ellie." You can't hide the genuine hurt in your voice. "Didn't I just prove that?"

You duck underneath his arm to quickly scurry away but Joel's hand seizes your upper arm and halts you suddenly. His grip is bruising and hurts - as it seems to be every time he touches you now days.

You tilt your head to meet his eyes, your expression already listless and defeated.

"I'll let you go to breakfast with her...and this thing with your friends...but if you say one word to her or anyone about anything..." Joel gives a minute shake of his head and clenches his jaw.

There is a torrent of emotion swirling within his brown eyes, something that appears like a mix of sadness and worry and anger, but you don't care to scrutinise it. You have no energy or will to argue; you are so drained that you just want to go to bed and sleep.

"I won't," you whisper.

Joel studies your face for a few moments, as if he's weighing something up in his mind, and he eventually let's go of your arm without another word. You wrap your arms around yourself and scamper toward the stairs.

Breakfast with Ellie is pleasant, if not a little awkward. Neither of you mention last night and conversation seems stilted at times, but overall you both enjoy the other's company. Ellie so thrilled at the prospect of taking you axe throwing afterwards that you have to tell her to stop scoffing her scrambled eggs and toast.

As soon as you leave the dining hall Ellie grabs your arm and guides you across the town square toward the woolshed and the blacksmith workshop. She leads you to a secluded area behind the sheds that Tommy has cordoned off from the general public. Your mouth falls open in wonderous surprise when Ellie unveils the small axe throwing range Tommy has constructed. The range is shaped in a rectangle, with one end for throwing and the other for the targets.

On the target end, a row of three rounded archery butts have been assembled several feet apart from one another. An axe has been wedged into the centre of one of the butts. At the opposite end of the range, around twelve feet away, Tommy has marked a stripe on the ground to indicate where the axe thrower should stand. He has also used white paint to outline three separate lanes on the ground.

"Pretty fuckin' cool, huh?" Ellie grins widely, raptly watching your reaction.

"Yes! It's amazing!" You say, sincerely in awe as you survey your surroundings. "I can't believe Tommy did all this!"

"Yep, says I'm his favourite niece."

"Ellie, you're his only niece."

"Precisely why he has to do what I want," Ellie beams. "Now stand back and watch the master at work."

For the next hour Ellie demonstrates the skills she has acquired from Tommy and other townsfolk who are proficient in wielding weapons. She talks the whole time, alternating between explaining techniques she learned and retelling funny stories that they had shared with her. You watch each throw and listen to Ellie's every word, marvelling at her natural aptitude for the sport.

She looks back at you whenever the axe lands within the bullseye, and you cheer and clap with just the right amount of enthusiasm that won't make her feel awkward. The proud smirk Ellie wears makes your heart sing.

You and Ellie stay at the range for a while. You even try your hand at throwing the axe a few times, making you both laugh hysterically when you fail. You are doubled over giggling when a silky, gravelly voice startles you both.

"Atleast if anythin' ever happens to ya, you'll have Ellie to save your ass."

You both whip around to find Tommy standing by the makeshift door, thumbs hooked in his belt loops and a wide grin plastered on his handsome face.

"Oh no, how long have you been standing there for?" You groan, your cheeks blushing with embarrassment.

"Long enough to see why you ain't never worked a patrol shift," Tommy teases.

"Hey, leave her alone," Ellie slings her arm around your neck defensively. "I'm gonna teach her and then the both of us will make you eat shit."

Tommy barks a hearty laugh. "I don't doubt it, El." He ambles over to you both and gives you a wink. "Now let me have a turn to show off."

The afternoon at the range is even more fun with Tommy around. The three of you take turns throwing, with both of them teaching you how to properly aim and launch until you actually hit the target. You can't recall the last time you genuinely enjoyed yourself so much.

When you arrive back home, your soul singing and your spirits high, Joel is waiting for you on the porch swing like a disapproving father. The smile on your face drops as soon as you spot his glower, and you slink up the porch steps like a dog about to be scolded.

You drag your feet as you walk through the front door, Joel trailing behind you wordlessly like an ominous shadow.

You should have known he'd make you pay your penance for today.

••••••

"Watch," Joel demands gruffly, voice low and thick with desire.

He uses the hand tangled in your hair to wrench your head back so you are staring at the bathroom mirror. He towers behind you, still fully dressed with only his cock free from his jeans, while you stand completely naked before him. The cold air of the room makes you shiver, your bare flesh prickling with goosebumps.

He kicks your legs apart and grabs your ass cheek with his other hand, digging his fingers into you painfully. You hiss and try to squirm away but his nails only press into you further and hold you tighter.

Joel leans forward and licks a thick stripe from your the base of your neck up to your ear, where he plants a soft kiss on your earlobe. His beard tickles you and his warm breath beats against your skin.

"Watch yourself get fucked." He whispers.

You have no other option.

Joel stoops ever so slightly to line the weeping head of his cock against the slit of your cunt. He bows his head and spits a warm wad of saliva onto where you connect to lubricate himself. Then he wastes no time pushing into you, groaning at the way your heat slips around him, how fucking perfect you feel at the first stretch. You moan involuntarily and he feels your pussy clench around him while your legs tremble.

Joel loves how much your body still desires his, even after all this time, even after all your efforts to push him away. He watches your reflection intently and smirks at the way your brows knit together and your mouth hangs open.

Joel slides his cock all the way inside your pussy and fills you completely, then quickly retracts his hips and pulls out again. He slams back in forcefully and relishes how you wince and gasp, taking pleasure in the fact that he knows you feel like you're being split in two, that the initial thrusts always hurt you, even more so when he hasn't prepared you at all.

"Don't forget who makes the fuckin' rules around here, little girl," Joel gruffs.

Joel had begrudgingly agreed to let you go meet up with your friends tonight. He couldn't possibly say no after Ellie had walked in on your argument together. That would just confirm her suspicions about what a controlling asshole he is.

But Joel could still prove to you just who was in charge. And that's exactly what he was doing right now.

His hand is wound tightly in your hair, making it impossible for you to move. He uses it as an anchor while he begins to pound into you at a steady pace, powerful and hard. Each punch of his fat cock pushes the air from your lungs and makes you grip tighter to the bathroom vanity.

Doggystyle has always been one of Joel's favourite positions. He loves sinking his fingers into the curves of your waist and your hips as he watches your ass jiggle from the impact of his thrusts. He revels in how pliant you become, unable to control how fast or hard he drills into you. He relishes in just how fucking animalistic it is.

Joel is able to see your every microexpression reflected in the mirror infront of you both and he wants you to see yourself, too; to see how utterly he wrecks you, how pathetic you look when you're blissed out and drunk on his cock.

When he had cornered you in the bathroom as you prepared to shower. You had struggled feebly, tried to fight him off, but you both knew it was impossible for you to escape him.

You stare back at him now with half lidded eyes, vacant yet consumed, body weak and malleable as he hammers into you. Joel can read the shame on your face, the embarrassment you feel that he is both the one you hate and the one who pleasures your body so expertly.

Joel snaps his hips into your ass over and over and his balls smack against your skin, loud and lewd in the echo of the bathroom. He pushes down on your lower spine while tugging your head firmly backward, causing your back to bow. The change of angle allows the head of his cock to hit your gspot and the sensation pulls a raspy moan from deep in your throat.

"Yeah, there it is," Joel growls, his wolfish stare transfixed on your reflection.

He cants his hips so that he taps against the soft spongy spot repeatedly, over and over with every thrust, and soon your pussy  begins to contract around his dick, signalling your impending climax.

Your eyes are half closed, vision unfocused, your bottom lip caught inbetween your teeth. Joel snakes his hand around your front and slips his fingers between your lips to press on your clit. Your thighs shake and you moan wantonly as he begins rubbing the sensitive spot in sloppy circles.

"Cum on my cock," Joel pants, "I know you're close, baby, give it to me."

He slams into you harder and faster while he grunts like a wild animal, his dark orbs hyper focused on your fucked out expression in the mirror. He keeps his thick fingers pressed to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and speed that he knows will make you come apart on his dick.

Your jaw goes slack and your eyes shut tightly. He knows how humiliated you feel and it only makes him more determined. He wants to violate every inch of your body and your mind until he's all you can feel and taste.

Joel jerks your head sharply.

"Eyes open," he barks, "look at me when  you cum."

Your eyes flutter open to meet his reflection and a only a few seconds later your orgasm hits. Joel pummels your cunt relentlessly and you keen loudly from the waves of blissful pleasure he has forced upon your body.

You look so fucking gorgeous, he thinks.

Joel frees his hand from your hair and gives your rump a harsh smack that leaves a stinging red mark on your skin.

"Fuck yeah," Joel moans, "can feel that pussy milkin' me, babydoll."

He continues to rub your clit throughout the high of your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure until you are overstimulated and desperate for him to stop. He grins when your eyes roll back and he feels a gush of your juice drip down his girth and his balls.

"There you go, pretty slut," Joel murmers.

Soon it becomes too much for your swollen clit and your thighs clamp around his hand. You shake your head and gasp.

"Stop," your voice comes out weak and wrecked. "Enough, please."

The sensation of your muscles squeezing around his cock is so deliciously intense that Joel's own orgasm comes quicker than expected. When he feels his balls tighten Joel abruptly removes his hand from your clit and swiftly withdraws from your aching pussy. He holds tightly to your hip and furiously jerks his cock a few times before shooting ropes of warm cum all over your ass and lower back. He groans like a beast, chest heaving, his orgasm hitting him in one big intense wave.

When Joel is finished and his balls are empty he staggers backwards and stuffs his cock back into his jeans. He admires the streaks he has painted on your skin and how his spend drips across the faint white scars on your ass; it fills him with proud gratitication, as it always does to see you so degradingly marked by him.

He is uncaring when your legs give out and you sink to the cold tiled floor. He doesn't speak to you or look at your face when he pushes past you and walks out of the bathroom. He just leaves you alone to clean up the mess he's made, as he always does.

••••••

After you shower you don't complain when Joel stands at the closet and selects he outfit you would wear tonight (a simple long sleeved navy coloured dress with thick black tights). You wear your hair pulled back in a basic ponytail so that the necklace he gifted you is clearly visible.

You listen dutifully and don't talk back when he outlines the stipulations of tonight's outing; that you are only to talk to women at the hall, that you stay in his line of sight at all times, and that you can only stay an hour and a half tops.

Joel escorts you to the mess hall with his hand resting possessively on your lower back. He's not as anxious as he had anticipated but the familiar knot of aversion still sits heavy in his stomach. Regardless of his inner conflict Joel keeps his head held high as he walks into the hall beside you.

All your friends are already at a table and when they spot you they wave excitedly.

God damn, anyone would think you had been gone for years, the way these girls are behaving.

Joel politely greets your friends and awkwardly watches as they take turns hugging you and gushing about how much they have missed you.

Joel doesn't stick around. He goes to the serving station to get a tray of food and then finds a seat at an empty table not too far away from yours. A few minutes later Tommy shows up and joins him.

They eat in companionable silence for a while. Joel isn't in the mood to talk, too preoccupied with sneaking glances your way to maintain conversation. He didn't want to let you out of his sight for a minute - not that he actually thought you'd run away or something, but the paranoia was starting to get to him. He had to be vigilant. Joel didn't want other people taking up your precious time but he also didn't want you to have any opportunity to betray him.

What if you were telling your stupid bitch friends all about your private business? Joel is sure they would drag you away from him. Then they would go crying to Maria and the council, and there would be no way in hell that they'd listen to his side of the story. Ellie would fucking hate him. Your life together would be ruined.

But thankfully for Joel there didn't appear to be any indication of that happening tonight. He watches you sat amongst your friends, all of them talking and giggling exuberantly around you. It appeared to be a happy little reunion, however Joel noticed a clear contrast between you and the others; your reserved smile and tired, dull eyes didn't match their more cheerful expressions. It almost appeared as though you didn't want to be there.

Joel had not realised just how much he was staring until Tommy coughed a little to get his attention.

"You're like a damn dog with a bone," Tommy snorts. "She ain't goin' anywhere, Joel."

"Don't know what you're talkin' about." Joel mutters, finally tearing his eyes away from you. He picks up a piece of bread and mops up some of the gravy on his plate with it.

"You've been starin' at her since the moment I sat down."

"Fuck off, Tommy," Joel bristles. "Just makin' sure she's safe."

Tommy chuckles. "From what? She's sittin' with her friends. And you made that Beau boy shit his pants. You think any man would dare try anythin' after that?"

Joel says nothing in reply. What Tommy had said was true - now your relationship is public knowledge no man in the whole of Jackson would even think of trying to flirt with you.

"Anyway, how's the domestic side of things goin'?" Tommy grins. "You two love birds think' of sealin' the deal?"

Joel glances up from his plate and his brow creases. "If you're talkin' marriage that ain't gonna happen."

"You told your girl that?" Tommy asks with an amused little smirk.

"What?"

"Have ya'll talked about the future? You might not want all that, but ever thought she might?"

Joel knows Tommy isn't being argumentative or intrusive, that his younger brother is just being the romantic dreamer he always has been, but he raises a good point. Joel actually hadn't given much thought to marriage with you, or even talked with you about it, although he suspects it is something you do (or did) want.

Joel shifts uncomfortably in his chair and goes back to concentrating on his dinner. "Not everybody wants that kinda thing, Tom."

Tommy hums in agreement. "That's true," he concedes. "She just gives me the impression of bein' the kind that wants that kinda thing."

"What do you mean?" Joel asks lowly. "What'd she say?"

"Aw it was nothin'. We were just talkin' a bit at the range today, mainly about school 'n all that." Tommy says plainly before taking a bite of the roasted meat on his fork. "Said she was lonely at times, wants more in life."

More in life? What the fuck does that even mean? Why were you talking to Tommy about your life anyway?

"She's fine," Joel mutters, his voice sharp with vexation.

The topic of conversation changes when out of nowhere Troy slams his tray down onto the table and takes a seat next to Joel.

"Tommy if you roster me on with that Deacon son of a bitch one more time you'll have a homicide on your hands," Troy announces.

Troy greets Joel with a friendly slap to the shoulder before starting a diatribe about the latest incident to happen on patrol with Percy Deacon, one of the newly trained rangers that most of the others can't stomach.

Tommy chimes in occasionally while Joel partly listens to Troy's grievances. He continues to periodically observe you, careful not to look for too long lest Tommy teases him once more. Time passes and Joel finds himself actually starting to relax.

Until Oscar walks in.

Joel clocks Oscar the second he enters the crowded hall. He's talking to his friend, that Matt kid, but once his gaze lands on you he stops speaking completely. Oscar openly fixates on you, practically fawning over you.

How dare he fucking stare at you like that.

Joel watches you glance up and lock eyes with Oscar. You're transfixed on him for only a few moments, but the gesture is meaningful and intimate. It makes Joel's blood boil.

Tommy witnesses the loaded exchange and instantly knows what's going on.

"Joel--" Tommy begins to say, but Joel is already standing up and stalking over to your table.

A hush falls over your table when he approaches. He doesn't pay attention to any of your friends when he bends down to whisper in your ear.

"We're goin' - you got one minute to say goodbye. I'll be waitin' outside."

Joel strides out of the dining hall without looking back. The night air hits his face in a refreshing, chilly blast but it does nothing to dampen the jealous rage that burns through his whole body. His jaw clenches tight and his hands itch to punch something.

Soon Tommy is by his side, his barrel chest knocking against Joel's shoulder. "What the fuck was that, Joel?"

Joel glowers at him and just shakes his head, but Tommy can read his expression clearly.

"They're just friends. Ya can't stop people from bein' friendly, Joel." Tommy implores.

"I don't care. She ain't for him." Joel snarls.

"What are you gonna do, Joel?" Tommy hisses. "Gonna kill any man that looks at her? Lose your shit whenever things don't go your way?"

"You don't know a goddamn thing," Joel growls back. "You don't know what loss is, Tommy."

"I haven't been through loss like you have," Tommy's voice quivers slightly. "But I don't wanna see you go through it again, brother. And if you keep doin' this shit tryin' to protect her it could happen. Violence ain't the way to keep a person close to you."

"Didn't lose Ellie," Joel retorts firmly. Tommy immediately understands what Joel is implying and nods.

"Hell of alotta difference between a hospital of Fireflies and half the population of Jackson, Joel." Tommy argues back soberly.

"I'd do it all over again if I had to," Joel asserts.

"I knew it." A voice suddenly spits out. "I fuckin' knew it."

Joel and Tommy whirl around to see Ellie standing behind them. Joel feels his blood run cold in his veins at the sight of her young face scrunched in anger and betrayl.

"Ellie," he croaks pathetically. "I--"

"I hate you," she seethes, teeth clenched. "I fucking hate you."

Before he can even plead with her to let him explain Ellie is running away from the brothers, her figure disappearing into the night shadows like a creature fleeing from peril.

Joel wants to call out to her but his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper. He can't hear what Tommy is saying over the rush of blood pumping in his ears. His heart is galloping so hard in his chest that he feels on the precipice of a heart attack. He stands frozen in place but his brain is a discombobulated mess of invasive thoughts.

Ellie knows about the Fireflies.

She hates you.

She fucking hates you.

You've lost her forever.

You failed her, just like you failed Sarah and Tess.

You've lost everything.

He cannot hear Tommy's panicked voice shouting his name. He can't see or feel his little brother grasping tight to his shoulders and shaking him. Joel's vision goes black and he can't breathe. All he can feel is his heart physically tear in half and his lungs crush under the weight of this catastrophic devastation. He's sure he's dying, that the sweet relief of eternal black is finally claiming him and ending his miserable existence on his earth.

But then your voice is pulling him back. You are calling his name over and over, your angelic voice piercing through the canvas of darkness with pinpricks of blinding white light. His senses seep back into his body one by one until he is aware of your hands cradling his face and your big worried orbs staring up into his.

Joel's vision clears and he is greeted by your own beautiful face. You look like an angel. His precious angel.

Overwhelming relief and adoration flood through his whole body.

I still have you, he wants to say. You're still here. I can't lose you, too.

"Joel, brother, are you alright?" Tommy is right beside him, brows knitted with worry.

"'M okay Tom," Joel is somehow able to mumble through the dissipating fog of dissociation. "'M fine."

Tommy retreats back a step and watches you embrace Joel and stroke his hair, as if soothing a spooked horse. Joel appears calm but the only coherent thought he can identify rattling around in his brain is to escape - to run away from Jackson and leave this life behind. He has nothing here now. You and he have nothing left here.

Joel abruptly takes hold of your bicep and stalks away from Tommy. You stumble in shock as he drags you but he doesn't stop. Tommy calls out to him, desperate and pleading, but his voice is nothing but white noise to Joel.

It's time for you to leave Jackson.

taglist - @sofiparallel @harriedandharassed @kewwrites @romanarose @fan-fiction-floozy @anoverwhelmingdin @unknownsuser101 @shesarealcarpentersdream @sheeeeeppp-blog @uncassettodiricordi @axshadows @puduvallee @gossipgirl-03 @mandoloriancookie @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @missannfairy @bean-security @missannwinchester @mrszdjarin

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller dark #dark! joel miller #joel miller dark fic #dddne #joelmiller #dark! joel miller x reader #dark!joelmiller

[pernadette]

Ghost: Are you touching my sister?

The soldiers were speaking to Robert Smith, the lecherous head of security at the mall you worked for. You were initially nervous when they approached you, looking quite serious and official in their tactical gear. “Need to view your security footage,” one of them told you bluntly. He was a fearsome sight, face completely closed by a skull-covered mask. 

You were forced to call Robert on the radio, despite your serious apprehension. The man was a pervert that enjoyed cornering shop girls and speaking as inappropriately as he could to get a reaction. He seemed to get off on embarrassing and intimidating you all. You tried to avoid him as much as you could, but being that he was your boss and you were new, and the only female security guard, it was near impossible.

With trembling hands that hopefully went unnoticed by the soldiers, you pressed down on your radio and spoke into it, "Robert to the downstairs office please, Robert to the downstairs office."

Several very awkward moments passed as you all were forced to wait for him to get there. The soldier with the Scottish accent looked you up and down, assessing you. "How'd a little bit like you become a security guard?" he asked conversationally.

You shrugged, not entirely certain yourself. "I needed a job and there isn't really much trouble here besides misbehaving teens and shoplifters."

The door to the office opened before he could reply, and Robert stepped inside. He was a tall man in his late forties, with narrow blue eyes and a hawkish nose. After a short exchange with the soldiers, he rather unhappily brought the security footage up on the computer and stepped back to let them watch what they needed to. “Hello lovely,” he greeted you quietly as he stepped to your side. 

You shifted away, trying to be subtle. “Robert,” you greeted formally, dipping your head an inch. A nervous smile lifted your lips. Why were you smiling? He didn't deserve politeness nor civility. Yet you found you could not help the defensive smile that always came when faced with anxiety.

He leaned closer, lips far too close to your ear than was appropriate. “Those pants look good on you today. Nice and tight in all the right places.”

Panic filled you, but before you were forced to come up with a reply to the outrageous comment, the soldiers stepped back from the computer, looking pissed. “He was here hours ago,” the Scotsman complained.

“Missed him,” the skull-masked man affirmed with blunt irritation as they headed for the door. They were about to leave you alone with Robert. Heart hammering in your chest, you opened your mouth, yet words failed to escape your lips, caught in your treacherous throat. Don’t go, you wanted to cry out, but nerves struck you dumb. What if you spoke and they didn’t believe you? 

The brawny Scotsman dipped his head courteously to you. “Thank ya’, lass.” The skull-masked man barely offered a glance.

"Wait!" you blurted out then, halting them both in their tracks. They turned and looked at you with mixed irritation and curiosity.

"Yea, lass?" the Scotsman asked, crossing his brawny arms over his chest.

Decision made, heart thundering in your chest, you moved swiftly to the skull-faced man and grabbed onto his arm, earning a sharp look. "This is my brother," you told Robert with a pointed look. His face paled a shade at the skull-faced man's attention. He looked between the two of you, eyes narrowing further as he picked apart the obvious lie. The skull-faced soldier remained silent, assessing the situation. Licking your lips, you pressed on, "He would prefer if you stopped speaking to me and the other girls inappropriately."

Robert's eyes widened then, and he stammered out, "I don't know what she's talking about!"

"Also," you pressed on, words coming fast now as you clutched the soldiers arm, "He would prefer if you stopped making all sexual advances, and stopped cornering us. And stopped touching us," you added as an after thought, though that was loosely covered under the first one.

Silence followed, and you risked a glance up at the soldier. He was staring hard at Robert, who was stammering out all kinds of defensive drivel. What if he didn't believe you? Your hands tightened instinctively on his thickly muscled arm. Please believe me, please believe me.

He took a step towards Robert then, pulling you with him as you refused to let go of his arm. "You touching my fuckin' sister, mate?"

Robert's ruddy complexion went about two shades paler as the blood drained from his face. "She's not your sister - I mean - no I - she - they're always-"

"Always what?" The Scottish soldier asked then, walking over, eyes glaring. "What exactly are they always doing that makes you think it's fine to harass the girls here?"

The skull-faced man removed his arm from your frightened grip but placed a heavy hand on your shoulder, eyes still on Robert. "We hear anything about you touchin' the girls here again, we'll be back."

"You understand?" the Scottish soldier pressed.

Once they received a sound affirmative from the stammering man, the soldiers deemed it fine to leave the two of you in pursuit of whoever it was they were chasing after. You watched the two march back down the long hall and disappear up the stairs that led to the second floor. Apprehensively, you looked at Robert.

Good news: That was the day Robert stopped the touches and comments.

Bad News: It was also the day you got fired.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #call of duty #call of duty imagines #ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap x reader

[dried-mushroom]

Omg can you please write about Lee Russell being mean to you in front of Gamby as like a power display or something but then when y'all get home (y'all are like Secretly dating since you're just a teacher) he's all nice and romantic to apologize?

YIPPEE I found another lee Russell lover! don't judge please I'm Australian so I have little concept of American education. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Lil angsty and implied sex

Be mean to me

Lee Russell x reader (well Christine sucks so she's not in this story)

Life was pretty peachy as a history teacher in North Jackson high school, you were stuck teaching from a range of boring topics to your either half asleep, barely listening or teacher pet students, except you were sleeping with the vice principal, Lee Russell. You couldn't resist that southern charm radiating off his tongue when he spoke those words on your first day as a teacher, in the parking lot.

"Mornin' Sweetheart, are you lost? The names Lee Russell, Vice principal of this very high school and you're way too fuckin' pretty to be a high school teacher."

After taking a good look at the lanky man who called himself the vice principal, you couldn't help yourself, and after promptly introducing you to your fellow teachers, he briskly walked you to the janitors closet where you both spent all morning. Obviously, you both knew this had to be kept a secret, boss and employee dating is a no-go, although that did not stop you both from being affectionate when no was watching, sharing a peck when you went to visit him at his office or the grasp of his hand on your thigh under the table at meetings or after work, where it was safe to be yourselves and you could lay together watching borderline cheesy romcom movies whilst Lee critiques his heart out.

You sighed contently as the bell for seventh period rang, the mingled voices of your 6th period ancient history class rushed out the door to their next useless class and you could finally relax and start lesson planning for the next 45 minutes. You let your hands run down your thighs, smoothing out your new dress (this but more teacher appropriate). You brought this specifically for Lee, you knew of his love for colours, hence his usually eccentric clothing choices, you knew he'd love the pattern on you. You couldn't help but smile giddily and walk out of the classroom, you knew you could easily finish the planning later and you'd rather spend the last of the school day with Lee.

You swiftly walked down the hall to administration, smiled sweetly at Swift, because you knew how rude Gamby was to her for no reason, and she didn't deserve that, like Gamby seriously needs a reality check in your opinion.

"Afternoon Miss Swift, I hope you're doing alright and Gamby isn't giving you a hard time, I was hoping to see Mr. Russell, I had to discuss long service leave with him."

"Oh, thank you miss l/n, vice principal Gamby is albeit rude, but I think he's getting better, and of course let me get the door for you."

You knew she wasn't stupid, and you assumed she knew about you and Lee secretly dating, but it was better to come up with an excuse and be safe rather than sorry. Smith quickly opened to door and shut it behind you.

"Well, hello there honey, I was expecting you- and what's this? isn't this a pretty thing?"

He shot up from his desk chair and sauntered over to where you stood, he placed his hands on your waist and whispered in your ear.

"I can't wait to rip that off you gir-"

Suddenly the door swung open, and Lee jumped away from you, 'of course Neal Gamby, you had to come fuck everything up." you thought to yourself, now awkwardly fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Russell. We need to talk. Why the hell are you here Miss. l/n? I thought Wednesday 7th period was your planning lesson."

Before you could reply to Gamby, Lee interjected,

"Exactly, Scram Miss l/n, I don't need nor want you here, I have better shit to do, plus what the fuck are you wearing? you look like a fuckin mess, pick a goddamn colour."

Your heart sank, an uncomfortable tightness sat in your chest as your face flushed in embarrassment. You knew Lee being a dick to you was only a ruse to throw off other teachers and admin but, fuck it hurt, it hurt so much to have him speak to you in that way. You nodded your head and headed to the door,

"Open or closed Mr. Russell?"

Gamby responded for him, responding in a curt 'Closed.' leaving you to silently shut the door behind you. You walked out of the administration office before your eyes welled with tears, but you waited until you reached your classroom until you broke, sobbing quietly at your desk. You just wished you and Lee could act like a couple instead of the cold shoulder act he'd be giving you. With the mixed signals and nausea swirling through your brain, you grabbed your left-over paperwork and bag before leaving. Usually, you and Lee would leave at the same time, but you couldn't bear to see him at the moment, all your hard work, making yourself pretty for him and resulting in him publicly humiliating you was just too much.

The short drive home eased you a little but when you had to walk up those steps of your shared home, it just brought back that sickly tension. You unlocked the door and set your handbag down (another reminder of Lee since it was an anniversary gift). You kicked off your heels and headed upstairs to your shared bedroom. You didn't bother to change and slumped into bed, fresh tears coming to your eyes, you didn't care whether you were quiet or not, sobbing yourself till you couldn't keep your eyes open.

Lee's POV:

He regretted the words as soon as they came from his mouth. He saw the hurt on your face, and he felt his stomach twist into a tight knot. He hated being a dick to you, hated it so much he hated himself for doing it. He realised he went way too far this time with you, and he really didn't want to lose you and couldn't help but fidget with his hands whilst blatantly ignoring whatever bullshit Gamby was bitching about.

"Sorry Gamby but I gotta run, not like you'd know what that is though. We'll talk about Brown tomorrow, now get the fuck outta my office."

Neal sighed, muttered some regurgitated insult but ultimately left. Lee rushed to grab his belongings and ran out the door, Smith tried to ask where he was off to in a rush,

"Sir, you can't just leave! where are you even going???"

When he pulled into the driveway, 'Thank God' he thought as he saw your car parked there. He got out, left all his belongings in the car, not a care. You were more important; you were the most important thing in his life. He opened the door and called;

"Shut the fuck up Smith, I can leave whenever the fuck I want and its none of your business where I am going."

Smith squeaked a reply, but Lee was already down the hall, he went to your classroom and groaned when he noticed a lack of you and your belongings. He ran to the parking lot, got into his car as soon as he didn't saw your car, without a doubt it was always parked next to his. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white, he shakily exhaled, he knew he had fucked up and was hoping you were at home.

"Y/n baby, where are you? I'm so sorry about what I said."

The silence was nerve-racking, so after checking all the other rooms for you, he headed to the bedroom to check. There you were, peaceful and asleep, he couldn't have been happier. He walked across the room to the side to the bed you were facing, and sat gently on the bed, softly stroking your hair.

Your POV:

You slowly awoke out of a dreamless slumber to someone touching you. You flinched when you realised it was Lee, and you remembered everything that happened today. He felt your reaction and immediately pulled his hand away. He saw the tear streaks on your face and sighed,

"Y/n I am so fuckin' sorry; I should have never had said those hurtful things to you, you didn't deserve that, God, I don't deserve you. I didn't even mean them, I need you so much, and you do so much for me, and I take that shit for granted, please forgive me y/n, I love you."

You saw the raw emotion across his face and sat up, you could see the tears in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wipe the one away falling down his cheek with your thumb. You smiled softly and leaned into him,

"I forgive you Lee, and I love you so much. I don't think you meant it but what you said really fucking hurt, and this hiding our relationship is really hurting us, so please can we finally go public and not have to worry and hide anymore?"

"Thank you so much and fuck it! who gives a shit if you and I are together? whoever doesn't like it can suck my dick, I can't lose you honey."

You smiled, finally knowing you'd and Lee would finally be able to be yourselves without having hide and sneak around.

"You aren't losing me Lee; I wouldn't do that to you. Now kiss me, you idiot."

He didn't hesitate a second before crashing his lips into yours, your hands finding his neck before climbing into his lap. His hands sneaked around your waist bringing you even closer, you could feel his erection under you, and you couldn't help moaning into his mouth. He broke the kiss to whisper,

"Well now how about I make do of my promise from earlier?"

The End

I hope this was good! please leave comments or asks if you enjoyed :)

#vice principals #lee russell #neal gamby #walton goggins #cooper howard #lee russell x reader #cooper howard x reader

[httpiastri]

is it too early to ask for a fic abt imola's sprint race and how upset and angry paul was after the race ...

idk if this is what u wanted but i just felt like writing this. hope u like it <3 (still very much not over what happened)

four podiums in four rounds.

a consistent result like that should make any f2 driver satisfied.

should.

consistency is key, as you've seen so often in formula racing, but how can you tell that to someone who was just closer than ever to getting his maiden win in formula two?

to say that paul was a wreck after the race is an understatement. he refused to talk to you or any of his staff members – he even refused to talk to ralf, which was more worrisome than everything else. though, it didn't take you long to realize that he just needed to cool off on his own, just get some time to breathe in peace. so when he went back to your shared hotel room, you decided to stay at the track a little to watch the f1 qualifying, just so paul could have his much-needed alone time.

when you finally step into your hotel room hours later, after having gotten stuck in several tailbacks on your way back from the track, paul isn't resting on the bed like you thought he would be. he doesn't answer when you call out his name either, which really gets your heartbeat going.

you find him in the bathroom when you peek into it, his body submerged in the bathtub filled to the brim with foam and seemingly steaming water. you're not sure if he's even heard you come in because he doesn't move a single muscle nor open his eyes. he slowly looks up at you when you say his name again, though, eyes holding so much pain that the knot in your stomach grows even tighter. you have to do something, anything, to break him out of this cycle.

"can i join?"

it takes a second for him to react, but then he nods, and you step into the room. you slip out of the cute summery dress you've worn all day, removing all of your last clothing items aswell as your jewelry before moving towards him. the bathtub is tiny, nowhere near than ones you've shared before in luxury hotel rooms around the world. there's barely any space left for you to slip in, but you make it work.

the second your back meets his chest, his strong arms wrap around you and a content sigh leaves his mouth. neither of you care about the water flowing past the edge as you shuffle into his embrace; a wet floor is a problem for later. the bath soap he's used smells lovely, a mix of vanilla and rose meeting your nose and making you forget about how the water is burning your skin already. paul doesn't say anything, although he rests the side of his head against yours, warm breaths tickling the skin of your neck.

you take the opportunity to speak when you're met with it. you can't just let it go on like this all night. "do you... want to talk about it?" you ask, voice low as if not to scare him. as if the mere thought of the race is enough to scare him.

he lets out a hum. "no."

you pause for a few moments, considering the idea of just letting go of the topic. you decide that you can't. "can i talk about it, then?"

"i can't stop you, can i?"

you lift one of his hands from your waist, letting your pointer finger trace along his own fingers. they're pruney and soft, revealing how long he must've been in the bath already, while the calluses along the upper part of his palm from endless hours of racing and weightlifting stay hardened. you slot your fingers in between his, wrapping your other hand around the back of his hand too.

"no matter if you like to hear it or not," you begin. "you did well. that was an amazing race."

"but-"

a dismissive sound bubbles from your throat to cut him off. "no buts. it could've just as well gone your way today." you shift in his hold and turn your head so that you can look into his pretty blue eyes, and he already looks much calmer than before. "it's okay to fall apart, but we're building you up stronger for tomorrow. okay?"

his breath rises with his deep breath, and he soon nods. you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek, and then you can't help but to give him another one. and another. and one to the tip of his nose, one to his forehead, one to that spot right by his temple that he loves so much.

finally he smiles, and he looks almost relieved to do it; like it's been ages since he had something to be happy about. he even lets out a small laugh when you keep up with your pecks, and he has to place a hand on your cheek to halt your actions.

he guides you forward, slotting your lips against his, before letting his hand glide to the back of your neck to keep you close.

hopefully you've actually gotten through to him. in the world of f2, every setback feels like tall mountain you have to climb; losing a race lead is like reaching the summit only to slip right back down again. it sounds like an impossible task, and if it were up to you, you would tell him to save himself the heartbreak and get an easier job. but racing is what he loves.

and together, you make it work.

no matter if it's about fitting into a small bath or coming back better the next day.

#if paul doesnt have a good race tomorrow....... #nope wont even think about it #f2 #formula two #formula 2 #paul aron #paul aron x reader #paul aron x you #paul aron x yn #paul aron x y/n #paul aron fluff #paul aron imagine #paul aron fanfic #paul aron fic #f2 fluff #f2 angst #f2 x you #f2 x reader #f2 x yn #f2 imagine

[jmdbjk]

Cultural reset...

These are just my own opinions and I think it's time I address this.

I had to google "cultural reset" to make sure I was using the term properly. New Google AI Overview says:

A cultural reset is when something significant in popular culture changes or is added, causing people to change the way they view things or to have a lot of people hop on the trend. For example, in K-pop, a cultural reset is a song that is very influential, usually one that gets pretty popular and many people love. It has a lot of influence over the K-pop fandom, and gets a lot of attention.

I did not ask Google AI Overview to specifically give me an example in K-pop. That's just my browsing history telling Google AI Overview that this bitch is obsessed... scary right?

(But I'm a little miffed that Google AI Overview generalized my BTS browsing history as K-pop because I don't look at or search up other K-pop artists. I am BTS only.)

Anyway, thank you Google AI Overview. Actually, I was more interested in styling concepts that are a cultural reset.

Let's stop stalling and just get into it.

I know none of us knew what to do with this Jimin when the photo folios dropped:

Definitely a cultural reset in my opinion.

We had never seen a Jimin like that before. Only in our fanfic-AI generated images imaginations had we ever thought...I don't think AI images was even a thing when this Jimin dropped on us.

Does anyone else have the urge to smooth the wrinkles and creases out of those pants for him? No? Just me? Ok.

Photo folio-black lace up leather gloved-patent leather panted-big chain belted-horny mask Jimin was a cultural reset for me and for many of us. The gloves really put it over the top. We'll never go back. He's covered from neck to foot except for a few slivers of skin. It's wild. It's just a smooth arm pit. Ok, before I run off the rails here... what was I saying? Oh yeah.

Also a cultural reset for me:

Every time I see this come up on my Youtube I watch it because it deserves all the views. Even the soundtrack was perfect.

I know Dora-the-Explorer haired Jungkook is not the favorite of some but I absolutely adore it... wait... sorry. There's a word there that I'm striking from my regular vocabulary from now on. Reasons.

This Jungkook was a cultural reset for me. He's never looked like this before and hasn't since in any concept photos. This was brilliant styling, I don't know if it was JK's regular stylist or if a Calvin Klein stylist did it but it was pure art.

He played that camera until the camera wilted, I just know it. I hope he grows his hair out long again when he's back with us.

And no shoulder booboo. I wonder when the shoulder booboo incident happened and I wonder if we'll ever hear the details.

While I'm talking about cultural resets, I have an honorable mention:

Not just this visual but the song too. PJM2 is coming. I feel another cultural reset coming.

Talking to my partner in crime the other day and I think a meeting DID occur where they detailed out a timeline for Project Naked Bangtan. Because they weren't going to go full frontal on us cold turkey. (Somehow all those words together sound hideous but you get my meaning.)

Regardless of Tae and his proclamation that "Chapter 2 isn't about us taking off our shirts" it is about showing a more mature side of themselves which inevitably is going to lead to showing some skin and some cuss words. Little did we know.

I can imagine how it went down in the brainstorm meeting of them trying to come up with content to fill in the time until they are all discharged...on a whiteboard possibly... because some of us are visual learners... someone drew a timeline of nakedness, possibly for each member.

I can hear it now:

RM: "We have to ease them into it. Who's first?"

Jin: "Hyung will do it." LMAO

What's been your Jimin and Jungkook cultural resets?

#trying to stay away from the ongoing real and fake drama #so my other option is thirst #jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #yes still missing them since no sign of them this past week #making up my own drama of pretty pictures #these two are art in motion #cultural reset

[heartsforvenus]

imagine dating johnny...

✿ you'd definitely be someone he picked up in hopes of turning you into dinner if you catch my drift

✿ but i think you'd intrigue him so much that he just couldn't kill you

✿ he probably wouldn't bring you around his family

✿ probably lowkey stalks you before and after you start dating

✿ he definitely just takes you out to bars and calls that a date

✿ don't think he'd do anything really romantic like taking you out to dinner

✿ if he did, he'd probably make you pay

✿ he would give you gifts that he stole from his victims, like jewellery and clothes

✿ extremely possessive, duh

✿ any man that looks in your direction will be found dead in his own home

✿ once the two of you became more serious, he'd introduce you to his family

✿ carefully, of course, he didn't want to scare you away

✿ you'd probably meet cook first, as he's the most relatively normal one

✿ you'd meet him when you went to visit johnny at work at the gas station

✿ johnny would get more comfortable and invite you around to his house and the family house

✿ he knew if you got too freaked out and wanted to leave him, he'd always have the upper hand, no matter how hard it would be to kill you it was family first

✿ if you reacted well to meeting his family, let's just say you'd better plan to stick around forever

✿ i imagine bubba would love you the most out of all of the sawyers, if you're kind to him he'd melt like an ice cream

✿ hitchhiker and sissy would probably like you, too, although you found them a little eccentric

✿ cook would like you if you helped around the house

✿ now, nancy would probably be conflicted about you. she wouldn't like that you distract her johnny from his work and his family, but she wouldn't do anything against you because she could tell how happy you made johnny

✿ just don't stay alone with her too long

✿ johnny would bring you to his shack, but you'd have to clean up after him

✿ how on earth does he live with all of those beer bottles on the floor???

✿ i'm sure you'd have to tell him that you love him first as he isn't one to share his feelings

✿ and he probably wouldn't even say it back that first time

✿ he's not the type of guy for marriage, and he doesn't have the money for it anyway

✿ if you really wanted it, he'd steal you a ring and just call you his wife

✿ overall, he's toxic, but he does love you. he's just a product of his environment, and if he'd grown up with any other family he'd be the best boyfriend ever

#Johnny Sawyer #texas chainsaw game #tcm game #Johnny tcm #Johnny slaughter #Johnny Sawyer x reader #Johnny slaughter x reader #x reader #horror #Texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #fanfic #fanfiction #horror fanfic #heartsforvenus #gn!reader