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satorena · 12 days

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❛ UNPROFESSIONALISM ! ❜

⟡ content warnings. explicit content. foul language. ceo!satoru. secretary!reader. mentioned past flings. fondlīng. fīngerīng. afab!reader. p in v. unprotected. brēēding. squīrtīng. gojo satoru is his own damn warning. 4.9k.

⟡ serena's note. oh if y’all knew the lengths i went thru just to post this damn fic. . .

“ugh, this is such a painnn!”

“the sooner you finish your paperwork, the sooner you’re off, sir.” you sigh, arms crossed over your chest. you’re used to your boss’ childish antics by now, having worked side by side with him for nearly a year. you check the time on your watch, “work ended about half an hour ago— you might want to hurry up.”

“but y/n!” he drags out your name, voice all whiny and pitched in a telltale manner. he pushes himself off away from his desk, chair rolling back from the impact as he lolls his head back. “this shit is sooo lame. didn’t i hire nanamin to take care of the boring stuff? how come he isn’t here handling this god forsaken load of terrorizing agony?!”

you click your tongue, clutching tighter at the clipboard in your hold. you wonder if he’d been dropped on the head as a child, his lack of self-awareness so painful it makes you reconsider if the check at the end of the week is ever worth it. “he’s scheduled the week off to keep his wife and newborn in check. he signed off about a month ago.”

he snaps his head up so quickly, you’re positive he’s gotten whiplash. gojo blinks at you through big blue eyes and snowy lashes, a dumbfounded look on his face. he lifts his index to scratch at the corner of his lips, and cocks his head to the side, “ahh. . . ‘s that right? wait— nanamin’s a dad?!”

you feel the vein in your head inevitably tick.

“sir,” you let out an exhausted sigh, completely baffled by his ineptitude. he must purposely choose to do this to you, there’s simply no other explanation. “we attended his wife’s baby shower a few months ago—the one you mistook for a bachelor party and had me escorting the escorts back home.” you lift your pointer finger, brows cinched as the memory burns into your mind. he tilts his head to the side, affirming the idea of his cluelessness even more.

you raised a second finger, “we showed up to the hospital to congratulate them on their baby— and you got them that ridiculous cutout board of yourself that sings when you press on the—”

“the button on my dick, yeah!” gojo cackles as if it’s the funniest story ever, as if you hadn’t need to dump a bucket of water on the cutout figure to get it to shut up before he could get his company sued for emotional distress.

you huff, the stressful reminder of that unfortunate day having you anxiously tugging at the hem of your skirt, “yep. that’s the one.” between the baby’s obnoxious cries and exaggerated mecha-gojo moans, you’d rather not think about that encounter.

“and this whole time i figured she was his sister,” gojo snorts, wiping a faux tear from the corner of his eye. he sighs when his laughter dies down, and pulls him chair back into his desk. “man, his wife’s a babe. guess that explains why she looked at me all crazy when i called her fine the other day.”

“you sure that’s the only reason?” you mutter under your breath, the insult flowing off your tongue so naturally that you couldn’t help stopping it, even if you wanted to. that man was all kinds of deranged, his ego and head much bigger than it needed to be.

“ouch, that’s mean, doll.” gojo pouts, clutching at the material of his blazer above his heart. the back of his free hand lands on his forehead as he dramatically leans back into his seat. his eyelids shut tightly, “you’re wounding me. ‘m too young to die. i can’t go on like this— tell my mother i loved her. sign off my will for me, wouldya? make sure to terrorize nanamin some more. oh, and empty out all my search histories. wouldn’t wanna ruin my reputation. and get rid of my porn magazines beneath my bed. ‘ve got some pretty nasty stuff there. and check up on my kid every now and then. and—”

“alright, alright. i apologize.” you cut his rambling off before it spiralled into something far worse. there’s a full headache throbbing at your temple, your feet ache from your heels, and your stomach rumbles in hunger. you’re ready to go home now, but that won’t be possible unless your big man baby of a boss finishes up his task. “i’m sure you’ve a very suitable man. many would be grateful to have you. my apologies, sir.”

he peeks through an eye, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. his beaten-puppy look is quickly replaced by one you know far too well now— the look he gets after beating his rival company in terms of stock. the look he gets after successfully shitting on his higher ups. the look he gets after getting you to cum on his fingers after a long day— you’ve stroked his ego. “i’ve trained you well, princess. always flattering me, ohh, however did i get so lucky?”

whatever have you done to get so unlucky? “time’s ticking, sir. you can’t afford to pick up megumi late from practice again.”

“nanamin’s wife might be a babe, but you’re a gem, y’know?” your boss entirely ignores you, leaning his elbow onto the pile of work he’s now completely erased from his existence. he leans his cheek into his palm, fingertips tapping at the side of his head. “one helluva girl. i mean it— i really lucked out with ya.”

you cross your leg over the other, shifting your hips over the suede material of his couch. you recognize the sultry undertone to his voice, and your clear your throat, “is that so?”

gojo chuckles, flashing you all thirty two teeth, “i mean it’s not everyday you find a woman with your patience. god, you must be in love with me or something.”

you roll your eyes, despite the small smile that creeps up on your lips, “that’s certainly not why i stayed,” which wasn’t entirely true, but it’s not as if you haven’t inflated his ego enough today. “you may be a handful but your pockets sure are generous.”

“wouldn’t kill you to make a guy feel good about himself from time to time, ya know?” he fiddled the black pen between his fingers, twirling the object from knuckle to knuckle. he pauses when you don’t answer, noticing you noticing his finger movements. and so he proceeds with a smirk, “you’re always so tense all the time. . . tell me, when’s the last time you’ve been properly fucked?”

you nearly lose the grip on your clipboard at his audacity, the question throwing you off guard. though, you quickly keep composure— a fierce facade that’s always labelled you as the calm and collected kind. though, you’re doubtful it worked against your own boss.

“that’s an unprofessional question, sir.” you grit through teeth, nails scratching at the wooden back of your board. highly hypocritical of yourself, as you’re absolutely no better than he is— having already opened a window of no return that fateful night you accepted his invite to come inside his home.

“pretty sure we’re past unprofessionalism.” he pushes himself off of his desk, rising to his feet. your eyes trail his movements, from the index finger that hooks at his tie to loosen the knot, to the cock of his head to the side that has his hair bouncing, to the sound of expensive shoes clicking with every stride closer to you.

his presence can be oddly intimidating at times— you’ve noticed while working with him for a while. there’re moments like whenever he steps up on a podium in front of thousands of people, or when the elevator doors slide open and presents him to the building. despite his childish antics, he exudes an aura so enchanting that serves as reminder of that at the end of the day, he’s the boss.

you swallow, eyes following his lean figure until he stops right before you. it’s hard to read him in moments like these, when he’s so unlike himself (or maybe finally truly himself). his hands sit in the pockets of his slacks, legs parted enough to entrap your own legs between his, as he tilts his head forward. his irises darken behind tinted shades, bangs curtaining the raise of an eyebrow.

“unprofessional?” he repeats, and your eyes narrow at him, subconsciously gripping at your board tighter. it’s the only thing that you seem to have control over, since it clearly wouldn’t be this conversation. “you mean like that time i had you creamin’ all over my fingers in the back of my car? or unprofessional like that time you bent over my desk and came all over my face? or was it that night when i had to tie your hands together to keep you from runnin’ away?”

your gaze flickers away from his, the heat of embarrassment creeping from your neck all the way to your face. he wasn’t wrong— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in closer to kiss you instead of pushing him away.

“we’re still at work.” you quip, the last bit of resolve tattering away the longer you feel his eyes on you. your roll your ankle nervously, thighs tightening against another.

“work ended half an hour ago sweetheart, remember?” he reminds you, voice as taunting as ever, and you sure as hell don’t need to see him to know he’s smirking. right side of his lips pulled with a moon crescent dimple on the side— he’s making fun of you. “forgettin’ already? can’t have my adorable secretary so overwhelmed that it’s meltin’ her brain. that should be my dick’s doing only, of course.”

you click your tongue, eyes casting back up to stare him dead in the eye. naturally, he’s already meeting your own, with the same damn smirk you’d predicted, “you have paperwork to finish, sir. better get on that quickly.”

“oh?” he laughs at your command, pulling his hands out of his pockets to rest at his hips. he runs his tongue against the top row of his teeth, and you hate the way your mind instantly travels back to days prior when you’d once had that same tongue working in and out of you.

he hums in faux thought, tapping his index against his chin. his lips fall into a pout before instantly stretching back to its default state, his infamous smile, “i suppose you’re right. come help me finish then, hmm? teamwork makes the dream work.”

you’re skeptical— you know him too well, but you’d rather divert the focus of attention from you to those papers. anything to prevent your mind from wandering off further into endless unprofessional possibilities. “lead the way, boss.”

he curtsies dramatically as you rise to your feet, stomping over to his desk. you notice he’s got shit done, and you’ll most likely be here for a minute. and so, you stand next to the chair he’d abandoned and pick up the pen, waiting for him to sit so you both could get started.

only you should’ve known you’d fallen right into his trap the minute you agreed to his ridiculous offer. you feel him pressed up behind you, lurking over your shoulder to study whatever you had going on. he’s unreasonably tall, frame so large it has you feeling frail in his presence, and his cologne so strong you feel it already clouding your judgement.

damn it all.

clicking your tongue, you tilt your head to the side to narrow your eyes, “well? are you not going to sit?”

gojo blinks at you, “how come? i enjoy the view here much better anyway.”

you roll your eyes, before turning back to his desk. he was a complete idiot if he thought you hadn’t already anticipated his next moves. the more your wrist flexes, mumbling the words you read on your sheets as you write them down, the more you felt him. you could feel the back of your thighs meeting the from of his, you could feel his bulge rubbing at your ass, you could feel his warm breath fanning at the slope of your neck.

damn it all.

“sales have risen to a—ahhn!” your pen falters in your grip, scribbling on the white sheet as it hits the desk. your eyelids shut close, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as a warm mouth kisses at that sensitive spot behind your ear. your palm lays flat against the surface of the table, side by side with gojo’s, body tensing as his mouth trails down lower.

“oh you bastard,” you mutter, shaky hand attempting to grab the pen in an unsteady hold. his chuckle rumbles deep from his chest, and you feel the vibrations against your back. you’re determined to stand your ground, despite the urge to push your hips back into him. he may have soft lips and an annoyingly hot voice, but you would not falter— no matter the moisture of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

you think you have it set in stone, the pen in your hold— albeit unsteady— despite his large hand creeping up your thigh. every trail of his touch leaves an electrifying feeling, and you’re sure he’s noticed your trembling knees if the way he subtly slid his leg in between yours to keep you steady said anything.

it’s when you’re ready to scribble out your mistake to replace it that he decides to plunge his canines to your jugular. the moan that erupts from you is squeaky, your hand clutching tightly at the pen as your back arches into his chest from the painful pleasure.

gojo nibbles and sucks at your skin, running his tongue over the throbbing area to soothe the pain, fingers trailing closer to your now aching core. you’re positive your skirt has now hiked up with how much your hips are pushing back into his, head lolled forward.

“aweee, what’s the matter sweetheart? ‘s too much for you already?” gojo coos, sultry voice sending chills from the shell of your ear down to your core, finally slipping his hand inside of your skirt. his fingertips brush at your clothed clit, the material of your thong shamefully damp in arousal. you huff, nails scratching at his desktop when his index and middle finger rub painfully slow circles at your clit. “but we’ve barely done anything? tsk, can’t afford slowing the company down because you’re too distracted to focus.”

your thighs and arms threaten to give out, body heating with lust and desire. you want to say you hate this, that this is against your typical work ethics, to tell him to fuck off and do the work himself. but the focus on your pussy really has you melting puddle, bottom lip tugged on to suppress any louder sounds to escape.

“y-you’re the worst.” you complain, though it fades into another moan when he pushes his thigh up in between your legs. you’re internally thankful, because had this gone any further, you’re certain you would’ve sunken to the floor.

“love you too, pretty girl.” he presses a kiss at your jaw, fingers pushing past your panties. fuck any resolve you’d held onto— you chuck the pen far away, planting both palms down as you allowed him to take control. every rub of his fingers at your clit had you dripping down his thigh, to where your hips shifted and rolled down his leg, dragging out that blissful heat in your gut.

“givin’ up already? y’didn’t put much of a fight this time, can’t say i’m a disappointed.” his free hand grips at your thigh and trails up to your hips, resting at your flesh to guide you down his leg. he’s all too enthralled by your sensitivity, gaze zeroed in on your expressions— from the slackness at your jaw to the way your brows furrow.

“just h-hurry up already,” you grit, eyelashes fluttering as your eyelids lift. your gaze meets his instantly, and gulp at the hungry look in his eyes. his skin is already flushed pink, lips parted as he pants heavily. “you’re no—ngh, better than i am, dickhead.”

“well aren’t ya damn mouthy,” gojo acknowledged, though clearly unbothered, as his fingers pinch at that bundle of nerve. you gasp, cunt clenching as it leaks more of your essence down on him. your head drops back against his shoulder, the slope of your back curving as you grip onto the closest thing in your vicinity— the hem of his blazer. “hm, whatever happened to my obedient secretary? always so polite and respectful, don’t tell me i haven’t trained you enough?”

“m-maybe you haven’t,” you pant, chest heaving as you feel his fingertips teasing the entrance of your folds. they’re slow movements, applying just enough pressure to ignite the spark in your guts but not enough to leave you wanting more. “can’t even do your damn j-job right and you call yourself boss? hah, wonder if mister geto would have this issue— fuuuck!”

“low fuckin’ blow, sweets.” gojo chuckles darkly, now two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. he wastes no time to plunge himself inside, knuckles rubbing at your velvety walls. you clamp down on his digits, desperate to keep him in for the sake of that orgasm you craved. “and here i was ready to put this pretty pussy in my mouth. you’re dickless for a few days and catch an attitude wimme? that’s cold, baby.”

“dickless?” you cock a brow, teeth gritting as you focus all your energy left on delivering your next line. he always got so cocky whenever he had a slight advantage. “a-according to who—ooh, god, shit!”

“ooh god, shit!” gojo mocks you, a third finger now joining the others. he scissors your cunt open, the slick of your arousal simplifying the slide in. you’re dripping down to his palm, so wet despite the front you’re putting up. he knows you love it whenever he angles his fingers at this angle, the one that has you knees weak and ready to fold. “face it sweets, i’m the only one who treats this pussy the way it deserves. see how well she responds to me?”

and you wish you could negate or deny him, but unfortunately, you both know he’s correct. he’s only got his fingers inside of you and you’re already at your limit. your hips eagerly chase his fingers whenever he pulls out just to thrust them back in, the pad of his thumb drawing infinity signs at your clit. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, knot in your tummy tightening from the stimulation.

“nghhh, ‘m gonna cum,” your hand slides down the slope of his forearm till where his wrist begins. you claw at the bone, clutching and grabbing at him eagerly. damn him and his damned fingers— driving you to mush with all six inches. “more, hah, need more— gimme more!”

“manners, pretty baby.” gojo coos at your ear, despite upping his pace. his hands reach all the right spots, pussy desperate to hold out to his fingers as they fuck your cunt open, soaking the digits in your slick. “c’mon girl, what’s the magic word? i know you’ve got it in you.”

“p-please! pleasepleaseplease—” you’re cut off by your own gasp as the dam in your stomach finally breaks. you leak on his fingers, squirting your juices as your muscles convulse, walls entrapping him in. your back arches away from him and you grasp at anything in your reach, your mouth gaped. you’re cussing like a sailor, vision blacked out beneath your eye lids as your hips twitch and stutter against gojo’s ruthless pace.

your high washes down, as you lose feeling in your limbs, falling face down to the desk. your skin is moist with heat, mouth parted as drool coats the abandoned paperwork beneath you. your body twitches with oversensitivity, thighs quaking as your last few spurts spray all over gojo’s thigh.

“don’t tell me you’re all worn out from a little foreplay?” your boss teases, his free hand delivering a blow onto your ass cheek. it recoils as you jolt, snivelling like a baby. you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, slacks falling next and pooling at his ankles. the next few moments happen in a blur, but sooner than you’d realized, you’d been turned onto your back with your legs propped over his shoulders and your folds were being played with again, the overstimulation having your toes curling in your heels.

“anddd there we go,” gojo strokes at his bricked cock, your essence serving as lube to coat his dick. he drags his fist from the base of his shaft to the tip, both your fluids and his pre cum mixture softening the jerk. “you fuckin’ water park. jeez, maybe i should plug this tiny cunt to prevent any further leakage, yeah?”

“fucking hurry already!” you don’t whine, or so you hope, though the grip of your legs at the back of his neck does tighten. with your skirt hiked up and your panties pushed to the side, gojo has a clear view of your twitching pussy, a hole designated intentionally just for him. he can already feel the cum in his balls ready to burst and fill your womb.

“and back to mouthy she goes,” he chuckles, using the leverage of his hand at his cock to slap his dick at your folds. the impact causes you to whimper, your hands clutching at the border of the desk. you wish you could wipe that smirk off his face, but fuck if the way he didn’t rub himself against you arouse you in ways that would surely haunt you after the orgasmic high faded away.

“take a deep breath for me baby, kay?” gojo instructs, thumb brushing over the skin above your hip bone, and before you’re able to retaliate, he slides in his dick.

his length is nothing to scoff at, and although you’ve already dealt with it in the past, all that prepping he’d done earlier seemed in vain. he bottoms out quickly, balls deep into you cunt. both your moans blend in harmony, overlapping one another as you settle with the aching stretch. your pussy clenches around his cock uncontrollably, both eager to push and pull him away.

“shittttt,” he whines throatily despite the huge grin on his lips. the flush pampering his skin has gotten significantly deeper, pale brows furrowed to the centre of his forehead. his hands grip at your plush thighs, fingers digging deep into your skin, surely enough to leave bruises. the bastard— he knew you’d be forced to wear your own slacks tomorrow to avoid suspicions.

“no fuckin’ way ‘m already set to bust— hah, fuck, what in the magical pussy is this?” gojo groans, snowy hair bouncing with his head thrown back. the tighter you grip at his cock, the tighter he grips at your thighs and the deeper his breaths are.

you push yourself up to your elbows, giggling at the irony of the situation. “already huh? so it wasn’t the liquor’s fault last time.” surely you were no better, entirely stimulated and body excreting all kinds of fluids from all over, but the ball was now in your court, and you planned on taking advantage. “s-should’ve known.”

naturally, he doesn’t rise to your bait, instead moving his hips away from yours, slowly dragging his cock out until the only part left in your cunt is his pink tip. “don’t make me make you eat your words, sweets.”

you raise your hand and rest it right above his pelvis, eyes set straight on his. you’re both clearly eager and ready to go, but you still had your dignity to uphold. you drag your palm upwards his torso, nails trailing up his button-up top teasingly before clutching at his tie. with the strength left in you, you yank him down and closer to you.

the shift in position stirs his dick in your cunt, knees now pressed closer to your chest. he hovers over you, a newfound look in his eyes you aren’t ready to divulge into—he was a very expressive man after all. both your lips ghosts one over another, breaths hot and mingling. you feel fuzzy, all senses fucked but collectively drawing at a same conclusion: wanting him to fuck your brains out on this desk.

“fuckin’ hell that was sexy.” it almost comes off a whisper, his tone breathless as his eyes bare deep into your. you feel the warmth of his hands fading away in favour to cup at your waist.

you tilt your head to the side, nose grazing against his. your fingers fiddle with the hem of his tie, despite never breaking the eye contact. “you gonna rock my world now?”

nothing more has to be said as he engulfs your mouth into his, knocking the wind out of you. his tongue explores the warm cave of your mouth, no inch left untouched. you moan and kiss him back just as eagerly, sliding the hand from his neck tie to his nape. your fingers thread through his soft locks, nails scratching his scalp and tugging at the roots.

he whimpers pathetically, the pain sending courses of arousal straight to his dick as his hips slam right back against yours. his thrust is rough and deep— leaving you gasping, as he takes the opportunity to kiss you even deeper while simultaneously working on his strokes.

the curve of his cock reaches even deeper than his fingers could manage, rubbing at your gummy walls and stretching them even wider. the sounds of your bodies connecting, your skins slapping, both your fluids mixing— everything felt so wanton, so filthy. he was everywhere, so far in your stomach you swear you could feel him in your throat.

the stretch of his cock at your pussy sent a fiery feeling spreading towards all of your limbs. the squelching of your pussy tightening and clenching at his dick filling the room. he soon picked up his pace, railing into you with every fibre in his body, loving the way your body bounced up in reaction to his thrusts.

“s-shit, oh fuck— don’t stop, ngh, right there!” you begged, throwing your head back against the hard surface. you’d given up on trying to keep your eyes open, the intensity of his dick ramming into your guts so fierce, you’d never felt anything like it.

he takes a sharp inhale of breath, followed by a whiny exhale. you were driving him insane, your sloppy cunt greedily clamping on his dick as if it were its lifeline. “suckin’ me in so tight, shitttt baby, ‘s like you want me to fill this perfect pussy full of my nut.” he dives his tongue deeper into your mouth for extra measure. you’re in a turmoil of multiple emotions at once but you kiss him back— until your lips feel tender and your mouth tastes of his breath.

he was annoyingly intoxicating, whether you wanted to admit it or not. your body spoke every word you were ashamed to say, responding with his own almost too perfectly.

when he slips his thumb to toy at your clit, your toes curl in your shoes and you’re accustomed to the oncoming feeling all too well, nails clawing at his skin. your words come out all fumbled mixed with tongue and drool, “s-satoru, i— ‘m gonna, don’t you stop— fuck ‘s too much— hnng!” you pull away just slightly, eyes all dazed as they roll to the back of your skull.

“shit, oh shit, me too,” he swipes at the drool dribbling past your mouth. from there, he plants more kisses at your skin, nibbling at every inch of you. he’s rutting like a madman, pace unforgiving as he focuses on that same spot that has you mindless. he finds you prettiest when you’re this way— all obedient for him. “my pretty girl— where do i— fuck, where—”

“inside.” as if you’d wanted to kill him, just as quick the word left your lips, he emptied his balls in your cunt. he sobs, his orgasm wracking over his entire body as he slams and fills your pussy full of him. the mixture of sounds is downright sinful, and whether it’d been the focus on your clit or his inhumane stamina, you soon met your similar end.

you cream on his dick once more, legs trembling as your second orgasm washes over you. your mind gone dumb, you do nothing but lay as you take the pounding inflicted on your worn out pussy. with each stroke you see stars, breasts juggling at the match of his pace. it’s damn near painful, but in the best enjoyable way. you feel yourself getting fuller by the second as you spray more of your arousal onto him.

the high eventually comes down for you both, the room reeking of sex. you’re both panting heavily, muscles twitching from overexertion. you couldn’t recall the last time you’d been fucked to the point of a momentary blackout— but you’d be damned if you’d ever let him know. he was too busy crying over your cunt anyways.

after a moment of silence, “. . .shit.”

“what?” you hum tiredly, rubbing the back of your hand to your tired hands. god, you could barely muster enough energy to do just that. what did this man eat?

he skips a few beats, before sheepishly chuckling, the hand that’d once been tracing patterns at the skin of your thighs now moving to your side. your gaze follows his movements, and it’s only when he retracts his hand does your heart sink to your chest.

“we definitely fucked these papers up.”

. . . shit.

io baby.. if you ever end up reading this i did it :c

#stargirl★rena.#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n

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inkedells · 11 months

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look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?

m!dni | requests open.

summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.

word count: 5.5k

tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires

masterlist

There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.

You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.

You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—

“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.

He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.

So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.

You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”

Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.

But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.

“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”

By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences.

“Lead the way.”

Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.

“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”

As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.

“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”

There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.

He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”

You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.

“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”

“What kinda chore we talkin’?”

“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”

“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.

“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”

“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”

Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.

You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.

When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.

“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”

“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”

“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”

Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.

“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”

You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.

“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”

He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”

Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.

“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”

Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—

He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”

You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.

“Um, I think he’s out working.”

“Great.”

Great?

Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”

His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.

Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.

“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”

He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.

“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”

You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”

He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”

“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.

Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”

“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”

Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”

Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”

“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”

Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.

“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”

Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.

“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”

You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.

“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”

You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel. Just Joel.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.

You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.

It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.

He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”

His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”

“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”

With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.

It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.

“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You know why it’s there?”

You shrugged.

He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”

Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out

“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”

Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.

Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso.

“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.

But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.

A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.

You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.

Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.

“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”

It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.

“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”

And just like that, he was gone.

That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.

You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.

So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.

Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.

No pressure on either of you.

You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.

“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”

“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”

“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”

“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”

Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”

You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.

Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?

When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.

And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.

You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.

Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.

The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.

Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.

“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”

And Joel’s voice.

You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.

Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.

“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.

“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”

Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”

“Well, what was the usual li—”

“—Were you asleep?”

“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”

“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”

“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”

No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”

He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”

He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”

“What? But why?”

Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.

“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”

“Joel, I—”

“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”

You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.”

“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”

You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.

“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.

“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.

He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.

“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”

Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”

You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.

“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”

“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.

You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”

Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”

You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.

“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”

You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”

Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”

And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.

“Unbuckle my pants.”

With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.

“What…” You began, “What now?”

“Whatever feels comfortable.”

With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.

Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”

“—Yes, God, yes.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.

“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”

You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.

“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.

With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.

You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”

And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.

Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.

You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”

“Licking a man’s cock.”

You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”

“Like what?”

“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”

And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.

Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.

“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”

“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.

“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”

You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.

“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”

He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”

“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.

With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”

“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”

When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.

“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.

“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”

But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.

“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers.

“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”

“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”

“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”

“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel.

“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”

“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”

He sighed at that. “You got me there.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.

When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.

“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.

“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”

“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.

Another sigh. “My cum.”

You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.

“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.

“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”

Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?”

“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”

“What? No—”

“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”

He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”

masterlist

A/N: strikethrough means i can't tag you, check your settings

taglist:

@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare

@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13

@redplaidedandcladed @simping-soldat @martyluvsu @mingiast @teddybonkers1960 @brittmb15 @ellswilliams @laurasunsole @senaar-ika @whore4ellie @harrysbitvh123 @atremises @silkiers @bbyanarchist @pawnshopbluess222 @https-hann @cassiesolos @xanqels @jawgrinder

@daylighthrry @victoriamay1357 @jeezkiddo @its-spooky-these-days @pedro-luvr @chibimosa @sagethephantom @loathsome-gargoyle @alejaa-a @greenclues @june-julie @spenciesprincess @donttamethebeasts @alec0 @djarinsimp

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daydreamerdrew · 2 years

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The Night Force (1982) #13

#he’s so dramatic #I literally don’t believe him at all like #this man is acting #he is giving a performance #like in the first page I was like hm that’s intense #and then in the second page Katrina and their son appear and respond to what he’s been saying #and I’m like oh ok so this is all for them then #‘it’s hopeless. there is nothing ahead for me but failure. I give up’#he couldn’t get rid of ghosts haunting one house #one man is dead #this cannot be the worst failure of a mission he’s ever had #all of his agents are fine and we know he’s gotten some of them messed up before #this isn’t even something world-threatening like with Vanessa #like can’t they just board up the house again and call it good?#‘I’ve lost and I have no fight left within me.’#‘let a better man handle this.’#‘obviously you love me- but right now I don’t deserve that love.’#one man is dead!!#dc #the night force #baron winters #my posts #comic panels

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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

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before i never really interacted with blogs(cuz anxiety and very toxic friends had my tumblr, who ive gotten rid of now) but now i literally interact with every post bc of you, you are god and i will worship you, your smut is poetic af and has my legs SHAKING(.literally.)

i am ON MY KNEES❗

also, alastor and his rivals(vox or lucifer) x reader smut? like i know alastor would be petty asf and have them watch as he fucks the living out of their beloved, im curious, do you have any ideas regarding that?(cuz your ideas are delicious and im hungry for that)

You’ve left me speechless which is quite the accomplishment, Darling. I am just a little goblin! Or like the tooth fairy, but instead of teeth I take praise and instead of money I leave filthy smut 🥺 I am so glad you removed the toxic friends and are interacting more. 💖 you deserve better and your interactions are a joy. Thank you for brightening my day! I am so far away and yet you’ve got me blushing like a fool.

oooh yes okay so! Here’s some ideas 👀

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊👑₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Energy for me is Lucifer: Here to please. Alastor: Here to win. I imagine Luci brings you to the hotel for Charlie’s Birthday party, already having a precious casual fling once or twice before. All the guests are there, everyone is dancing and drinking and having a good time. Alastor notices how you call him Luci, how Lucifer cant keep his cool when you lean closer to him when you speak. Naturally, Alastor sees an opportunity to fuck with Lucifer so he asks for a dance. He is uncharacteristically sweet and loving, willing to do anything to get under the king of hell’s skin. He changes the music to something slow, holding you close he whispers in your ear during your dance, “How can any man maintain composure around you? I feel my manners slipping through my fingers every time you look my way.” When you leave the party to cool down, Alastor follows, finding you in an empty room trying to decompress. “Would you hate me if I kissed you? Be forewarned, once I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop…”

Lucifer walks in to see you absolutely melting under Alastor, lipstick smeared and face flushed. But Luci adores you, your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s compelled to stay and watch, even as Alastor makes you moan and scream his name. “Who do you belong to, sweetheart?” “Whose cock are you made for?” You’re reduced to incoherent babbling by the time Alastor is finished toying with Lucifer. Lucifer can’t take it anymore and finds himself crawling onto the bed to swallow your moans and shower you in praise.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊🖥️₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

I can see Vox bringing his beloved personal assistant to an overlord meeting for note taking, and Alastor notices your glances to him. Vox adores you, and is always on his best behavior around you to impress you. Alastor waits for you outside of Vee Tower that night for a “chance run in”. “What luck! Allow me to buy you a drink, as a welcome to hell.” Charms you as any good southern boy could, and suggests you both go back to your office for privacy. Knowing full well Vox has cameras all over the office, Alastor fucks Vox’s assistant on his desk while maintaining eye contact with the massive collection of screens there. Vox catches sight of this while skimming through the feeds but can’t break away from the video. Alastor keeps your back to the displays while bouncing you on his cock, smirking at Vox the entire time as he leans back on his desk chair. Vox is seething and finally rushes to his office to find Alastor gone and you lying on your back, still out of breath and cum dripping onto the desk.

Vox keeps you, but gets rid of the desk. He can’t let Alastor have the satisfaction of making him lose his prized employee. For weeks after, while zoning out in board meetings, his screen flashes images of Alastor smirking from over your shoulder as you ride him. He’s entirely unaware that it’s happening and everyone is too scared to tell him.

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glitteringobliteration · 10 days

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Something bugged me about what Brennan said about Fabian’s new gold maximum legend tattoo: he’s now immune to Dragon Madness.

Why would that matter? Yeah, it’s probably great for Fabian’s future adventures but why would it be relevant now? The Bad Kids already got rid of all the gold they received from Kalvaxus’ hoard, right?

Please bear with the red-string bulletin board-making side of my brain while I talk through my theory:

It’s always struck me a bit odd how much attention is being paid to Fabian’s finances this season. I totally get that it’s partially due to his parents being gone all year/turning 18 and gaining access to the funds left by his papa, as well as the general arc Fabian is going through of navigating going it alone for the first time, but it feels like there’s more to it than that. Fabian has never wanted for money before, and it hasn’t really factored into this season either (for him. points about Adaine being broke are irrelevant rn.) beyond the handful of conversations (and one altercation lol) we’ve seen between Fabian and his banker, Alston Hughes. A couple of things that Brennan has mentioned feel very much like breadcrumbs, and I’m not sure if the Intrepid Heroes have clocked any of it yet (as of Ep 15: The Last Stand).

Fabian banks with KVX, which Alston Hughes tells him has gone through a shift in management since their board of directors were smote by the Council of Chosen. Their branding and logos have changed from Kalvaxus red, to blue.

I also find it worth noting that we did discover Alston Hughes to literally be a member of The Harvestmen. 👀

This brings to mind the subject of Oisin.

Oisin is a blue dragonborn in his junior year at Aguefort, the conjuration wizard of the Rat Grinders. We learned at the shrimp-jump party that he’s descended from a blue dragon, who’s said to live atop a great hoard of treasure.

Oisin offers to help Adaine get some of her much-needed spell components, and she turns him down.

Aelwyn tells us that Kipperlilly can’t use Oisin to get the material components she needs - hence why she’s using Aelwyn. Kipperlilly says she needs to protect Oisin.

Why?

I’m willing to bet that his family has something to do with the new management at KVX. I’m also willing to bet Kipperlilly knows exactly how to protect herself from Dragon Madness.

And Fabian’s new tattoo is gonna save everyone’s asses. True Maximum Legend.

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k9wa · 5 months

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𑣲 RENEWAL. ft. DAN (F)HENG

⠀ — it is not he that is familiar to you, nor you to him.

⠀ OR

⠀ — time and reincarnation aren’t enough to ever make you truly forget each other.

⚠︎ angst if you squint, fluff, mild hsr spoilers? thank u to the high cloud quintet for having the most heart breaking lore, i listened to memory by toby fox on repeat while writing this.

dan heng wasn’t sure what to feel when his eyes met yours.

familiarity? no, that’s not possible. he’s never met you.

nostalgia? no, that too was not possible. he cannot name one person who your eyes could possibly remind him of.

…what was it? what was it that had left dan heng unable to will his gaze to move somewhere else? surely the intense eye contact was leaving you uncomfortable, even he was beginning to feel squirmy in his own skin as you stared back at him with an equal intensity.

dan heng can feel something in the deepest pit of his mind, leaking down and adding to the tense knot in his gut.

yet, the feeling isn’t…unwelcome.

it’s warm. it’s akin to a comforting hand on his shoulder, or a small squeeze to his fingers. he could not, no matter how hard he tried, recall a time such a sensation had left him so utterly speechless.

“dan heng?”

it’s welt’s voice that finally pulled him out of his trance, his eyes blinking rapidly a few times before he turned his head to look at the older man.

“sorry. what was that?”

dan heng shook his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts of you. what was your name again? yukong had just informed him. not that he was really listening, anyway.

the conversation between his crew and the sky-faring commissions helm master continued on, talk of stellarons and something about the cloud knight’s general. dan heng couldn’t seem to focus despite his efforts.

another voice calls out to him just before he can depart alongside caelus and march, however this time it is not the deep and rough voice of his companion, but one that is much sweeter, and seems to strike a chord somewhere within him.

“dan heng?”

he turns around and is once more met with your eyes. dan heng willed himself to blink and nod before he could be entranced by them once more.

“i apologize, but…”

you trailed off before you were able to get the words out of your mouth, and there you found yourself back in the odd silence the two of you had just broken out of.

“…have we met before?”

you asked, and it finally clicked with dan heng where he had seen only snippets and flashes of you before.

my dreams, he thought. the dreams that haunted him night in and night out, but would occasionally grant him just a glance of a peaceful memory.

“no. we haven’t.”

you’re an amicassador of the sky-fairing commission, one brought on board long after he was banned from the ship that you called home. your meeting at any point before now would have been impossible.

yet, his mind drifts to the occasional memory he has only when deep in slumber.

“yingxing gifted me this.”

he looks down at you, head in his lap as you pull a small jade coin out of your pocket, a fine “永” carefully carved into the surface.

“he has too much time on his hands now that jing yuan is growing.”

your chuckle is soothing to his ears, the sound like a balm applied directly to his soul.

your face is unclear, almost as if his eyes are unfocused. yet your voice is unmistakable.

“i don’t disagree.”

is all he responds, fingers idly pushing a few stray hairs behind your ear as he looks down at you. although he can’t see it, he can feel the grass he and you reside on, smell the pollen off the fresh flowers the breeze blows towards him, can feel the sun on his skin.

“you’re sure?” you question again, voice just as calming as he was sure he’d imagined until now.

“you just—“ you chuckle a bit, almost awkwardly. “—seem so familiar, is all.”

you try to approach the topic subtly, but you truly did know him. from your own dreams, the ones you had that woke you in a cold sweat from just how real and jarring they felt, regardless of whether they were mild or sweet in nature. they conjured such emotion in you.

“baiheng was telling me of reincarnation.”

you muse to him, sitting with one hand on the ground just over his crossed legs, leaving you leaning across him.

“do you believe in such a thing?”

“of course.”

he nods, hand naturally finding it’s place on your waist.

“don’t you?”

“i don’t think so.”

you reach your free hand out to play mindlessly with the silver trim of his robes.

“it’s a nice thought, though.”

dan feng can only hum quietly.

“some day,” he began, drawing your attention back up to his face. “after i reach my end, i’ll come back to find you.”

the small tug of his lips could only be described as a smirk, but it felt softer than that.

“to prove it to you.”

you tilt your head teasingly, brow cocked.

“how will you recognize me?” “I would know you blind.”

he can feel his chest warm as you smile at him.

“i’ll hold you to that.”

“sorry.” dan heng bowed his head lightly.

“but we haven’t met before.”

he was being truthful, you hadn’t. it was your past lives that you two had been acquainted, had formed a bond so strong that it appeared to have transcended death itself.

dan heng did not wish to have dan feng’s deeds or past haunt him any more than they already do. the urge he felt to sit and talk with you, to perhaps hold your hand or touch your face would surely only lead him down a path he’d apparently gone down centuries ago.

“right.”

you nod at him, bowing yourself.

“sorry to keep you, it was nice to meet you.”

dan heng was released and regrouped with his crew, march and caelus bickering about something or the other and walking ahead of him. he decided to stay a bit further behind with welt.

his decision quickly regretted when welt gave him a knowing look, the lines on the older man’s forehead deepening as his eyebrows pushed together.

“you know them.”

“i know who they used to be. that’s all.”

welt can read the room well enough to know to end the topic there. dan heng had never enjoyed or been keen on talking of dan feng, and being back on the xianzhou alone had already left him with an unusual tension in his shoulders.

even as he walked away, moving up to engage in conversation with the sillier two of the quadrant, dan heng couldn’t shake you from his head. your smile, the way you held yourself as yukong introduced you, the small laugh that he had not expected would weave itself so deeply in his chest.

he kept walking on anyway. dan heng was not him.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

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roronoaswifey · 1 year

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

summary. zoro just can’t help the way his mind and body reacts to the thought of you

pairing. roronoa zoro x f!reader

warnings/tags. slightly implied blood kink, feeling up and groping the reader, sexualized yoga positions, peeping tom!zoro, implied jacking off, slight manipulation??? (reader gets drunk), blaming sanji for shit he hasn’t done, reader wears a lot of skirts and dresses, is reader playing dumb?? who knows, reader also thanks him a lot, zoro is just one big perverted mess here

wc. 1.8k

kazu’s note. because @sanjisblackasswife is such a pervert 🫂

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓!𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐎…

secretly loves it when enemies board onto the ship and you face them off. not because he wishes to see you endangered, no, but because you always end up so limp and bloody, body battered and clothes torn to pieces, revealing so much more than his imagination could ever allow.

offers to train you in the middle of breakfast when you complain about feeling oddly sore, and you naively agree, unaware of his ulterior motives and failing to see the sly smirk on his lips when he grunts in response.

gets unnecessarily close when he’s helping you stretch. claims he’s helping you warm your muscles when really he’s got you laid on your back, knees tucked to your glistening chest, his groin pressed tight against your ass and leaning forward with heavy weight, entrapping you between bulky arms and rubbing into your thighs.

loves to put you in yoga positions, precisely ones that involves the stretch of your ass. nothing gets him off more than the stretch of the material over your curves, putting yourself in such lewd positions without your knowledge, all for him and only him to see

puts you in squats a lot. will place himself behind you, chest to your back, hands on your hips and adjusting your stance, dropping low with you and bringing you back up just to repeat. you thank him innocently when he grunts, “just like that,” thinking he’s praising your skills when really with a sight like your ass grinding up and down his bulge so repeatedly, how could he not praise your hard work?

also puts you in the cow pose, his absolute favourite. on your hands and knees with a sinful arch at your back, he places himself yet again behind you, a hand tightly gripping your hips and the other resting at your lower back. while you moan at the pleasure of the stretch of sore muscles, zoro feels a rush of arousal stir deep in crotch, hips pushing forward into the roundness of your ass and watches the recoil, using the opportunity to imagine himself rutting into you as rough as he desires.

despite the crowded space, purposely walks past you and never forgets to hold your waist a little longer than needed, dick grinding into your ass in your cute little skirt. he always gets a nice whiff of your scent this way, leaning forward to mumble a deep, “‘scuse me,” or “watch out,” and revels in the way you jump in surprise, your plump breast and ass jiggling in the process of the reflex.

can’t help but observes intently the way you suck on your popsicle, the desert dripping down your fingers and trailing from your chin to your open chest. an innocent treat for a sunny day, but up from the crow’s nest where he’s sprawled, dick out and tucked in his fist, grip tight as he imagines how the way your soft lips wrap around the dessert would feel around his throbbing dick, cum and saliva trailing down your lips and to your fingers, having you suck on them the same way you’re ridding yourself of the sticky treat currently in your hold.

wet dreams of you in the same position he had you in earlier in the day, laid on your back with your knees at the side of your head, pounding you into the floor, tits bouncing at the same pace as his ruthless thrusts, those sinful moans you release at a nice stretch resonating in his clouded mind. he wouldn’t mind silencing you with thick digits deep in your parted lips, pushing himself further down to make you feel him balls deep in your cunt— no, sorry, help you stretch your sore hamstrings real well.

is so generous with his precious sake. will offer some of the alcoholic beverage and of course you’ll accept, ‘cause you’re sweet like that. little do you know how clumsy and clingy you get whenever you’re tipsy, hands roaming all over his body and your own, carelessly sitting on his lap with your head nuzzled in his neck. his favourite is when you lose balance and stumble down to meet face-to-face with his roaring boner. the view is something to imprint; head lowered to his groin, back arched and dress riding up, revealing a teasing view of the cleft on your cheeks. the sight of your top drenched in his drink, revealing your lacey black bra that sits your breast up so nicely is a close second.

plays rounds of truth or dare after you both consumed a heavy amount of sake, his intrusive thoughts soon getting the best of him. you agree rather too quickly, leaning forward and looking at him with such expectant eyes, parted lips glossy and ready to go. he decides to start, thumb playing with your bottom lip, steel eye staring you down like a predator with its prey, as he either truths you with “how badly d’you want me to fuck you?” or dares you with “come sit on my lap, panties off.” and with the way you comply so obediently, how could he not keep engaging this silly game?

purposely leaves his dirty clothes in the bathhouse after an intense workout session, knowing full well you’ll follow suit. with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, he busts through the door as carelessly as possible, soaking up the view of your bare body glistening in water, mousse of soap teasingly covering the parts of your body he desires to see. the shape of your physique, the heat rushing to your cheeks as you watch him with dazed eyes and wet lips, arms reflexively covering your chest, not knowing the squeeze of your arms are doing anything but hiding your assets. he lets his eye travel your exposed body, quirks an eyebrow and when you finally snap to your senses, you tell him to leave, to which he shrugs and excuses himself with, “left my clothes in here, my bad.” the smirk at his lips not going unnoticed as he takes his sweet time grabbing his belongings. he makes sure to get a nice view of your glistening ass with a faint whistle.

offers piggyback rides after a long day of shopping. when he kneels on one leg with his back facing you, you happily accept the offer, hopping on his back and wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders, so enthralled and relieved by the lack of effort to walk that you fail to acknowledge the press of your breast against his shoulder blades, or your cunt rubbing against his broad back, or the rough hands digging at the flesh of your plush thighs, fingers creeping around your skin and inching rather closer to your cunt or resting at the fat of your ass. you lay your head on his shoulder and thank him for the ride and he grunts in response, and as you let your eyes rest, you miss the sly smile that stretches on his face.

gets uncharacteristically touchy whenever you lose balance. you trip forward and expect a harsh landing but instead greeted with strong arms catching your limp body. you trip backwards and the results are the same. you smile and thank your saviour for saving you from a rude fall, and though he answers a short, “careful.” he can’t really be annoyed by the opportunity presented to him to have you so vulnerable in his grasp, big hands groping your ass through your tight shorts or big hands fondling at your breast through your thin camisole. the material is so thin it’s barely there, that zoro can’t help but give it a one, two squeeze before letting you go.

causally blames sanji whenever you feel as though something’s off. you keep losing pairs of thongs you recently bought and cost you a lot of money? the perverted cook’s at fault. you heard a creak of the door in the middle of your bathtub session? probably the shit cook’s doing. towels keep disappearing after your showers? definitely sanji’s fault. it’s just so cute to him how you fall for it every time, thanking him with another quick hug, soft tits pressing against his body, before storming off to curse the cook at yet again another accusation.

always has something to say about your style in fashion. it’s either you’re “practically naked while working out, with your skin tight spandex shorts and thin sports bra” or “your sundress is way too short and puts you at risk of exposing your body for anybody to see”. when you fire back and defend that you’re fine the way you’re dressed, he moves forward and cocks an eyebrow while he grumbles an, “oh yeah?” before grabbing a handful of your plump ass in the flimsy dress, big hand cupping your behind with such ease that it brings an embarrassing heat to your face. he tries another, “is that so?” and squeezes the flesh with intent, before releasing and patting your ass, leaving you a flustered mess.

makes sure you climb up the ladder and make it into the docked ship before he does. naturally, it’s an instinctive thought to presume he’s simply prioritizing your safety, to which he does argue that you’re the type to fall off while climbing up so he’s just making sure. so, as promised, you climb up the rope and he’s right behind you, though much less focused on making sure you stay put but instead focused on the way your ass bounces from left to right, flexing and releasing as you switch legs. your covered cunt is on full display too, the breeze knocking your skirt over and flashing your hidden assets. before you can bring a hand to lower your skirt, zoro finds himself doing the job for you, hand bringing your skirt back down and you thank him for his actions, unaware of the lingering touch of his thumb nearing the crack of your soft ass and the aching throb in his pants, “hn.”

accidentally always stumbles into your room at night when you’re always knuckles deep in your glistening pussy. whether the door is locked or unlocked, he always manages to burst through at the right moment. either you’re sprawled on your back, legs spread with curled toes and thumb circling your clit or you’re on your knees, mouth muffled by your pillow and your arm extended behind your back, fingers working their way into you. he loves either or, since you’re presenting yourself so lewdly for anybody who’d open the door to see, and coincidentally, that somebody is him. it’s the same routine; you always pull back and attempt to cover your naked body with your damp sheets and ask him what the hell he’s doing in here, but by the dirty look in his eye and the way you always fail to meet his gaze, glossy lips tucked behind your teeth and teary eyes staring at your lap, zoro knows that deep down you want him just as badly as he wants you. and who knows? maybe one day you’ll let him give you both the pleasure well earned.

oh my my zoro, what a bad boy 🙍🏾‍♀️

#roronoaswifey.exe #kazuha’s works 📂#‘thinking bout’ series #one piece #one piece smut #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #zoro smut #zoro x black reader #x reader

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cameronspecial · 2 months

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Let Me Hear That Again, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Y/N sees a trend on social media and she can't help but want to see if she can get Rafe to believe it.

A/N: Inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Y/N has no idea how the trend started, but she is completely on board with the idea. There is just something so hilarious to her about getting men to think that women actually shed their skin every month. Lucky for her, Sarah is completely in love with the idea of tricking Rafe and John B. into thinking this myth is a fact. The girls send their boyfriends out to pick up dinner at The Wreck during an at-home double date night, so they can put on the clear peel-off face masks. The boys return and this is when the plan sets into play. “Y/N/N, when you get your period, does your monthly shedding ever just get so hard to take off that you just consider letting it flake off?” Sarah questions, looking over at the girl. Rafe and John B. pause at the Cameron girl’s words. They don’t quite know what she is talking about, but they assume she is talking about the shedding of her uterus lining. That is until Y/N says what she says next. “Yes, my skin is shedding right now and look how flaky and big some of the pieces can get.” She starts to pick at the mask and peels a massive part off of her face. Rafe’s eyes widen at what is happening to his girlfriend’s skin and puts the bag on the kitchen island. He rushes to her side, “Angel, what is going on with your skin? Are you okay? Does it hurt? Should I take you to the hospital?” Sure, he has seen some skin peel, except it looks nothing like what he sees before him.

The girls struggle to hide their giggles and Y/N straighten with a serious look on her face. “I’m fine, Rafe. This is supposed to happen. My skin sheds every month with my period,” Y/N lie. His head tilts, “Let me hear that again, Angel.” She smiles to herself. This is working. “It’s like a snake, Rafe. I shed my skin when I get my period. Like this,” she explains, pulling at the mask to demonstrate her point. He refuses to accept this word, “That’s bullshit. If this really happens every month, then how come I’ve never seen it happen?”

“Because I hide it from you silly, so you don’t freak out like you are now.”

“How come they didn’t talk about it in health class?”

“You say that as if we actually learn anything useful in health class. If you don’t believe me, then ask Sarah.”

Rafe turns towards his sister and she nods in confirmation. “It’s true. Look. It’s happening to me too,” she says. Her hands fly to her face to start removing her ‘skin.’ Now, it is John B.’s turn to freak out. “Sarah, don’t do that,” he grimaces. She ignores his plea and gets rid of the second skin on her face. “I can’t believe this is real,” Rafe whispers to himself as his head pivots between looking at hs girlfriend and sister. This pushes the girls over the edge and they both burst into laughter. “OMG, you guys really believed us!” Sarah scream. Both boys stand and back away from their girlfriends. “What do you mean?” Rafe inquiries, staring at Y/N with narrow eyes. Y/N giggles, “Rafe, it’s not real. We just wanted to see if you would fall for it.” John B. looks at Sarah and points at her face. “Then what is going on with your faces?” Sarah holds up the face-mask tube, “It’s just a face mask, John B.” The boyfriends look at each other with a pout and turn their backs to their girlfriends as they walk to the kitchen island. The room is silent as the boys begin to eat without the girls.

Y/N sighs and wraps her arms around his shoulders, “I’m sorry I made you worry.” She presses a kiss on his cheek. “No, you aren’t I saw how hilarious you found that,” he grumbles. “Okay, maybe I’m not that sorry, but I can see how upset you are. I promise I’ll make it up to you later tonight.” Rafe grins at her words and turns to her. “You better,” he mutters against her ear.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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fairytale-poll · 3 months

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CINDERPOLL FINAL MATCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Ella of Frell:

She’s had a “gift” of obedience placed on her, and her quest is to figure out how to get rid of it. I love her

he’s under a curse that makes her obey any order given to her. She met her Prince Charming (Char) when they kids, and they became friends. Her stepsisters found out about her curse while they were at boarding school, and because of that (and some things they made her do) she ran away to try and find the fairy that cursed her. When she does, the fairy says that she doesn’t do magic anymore, because she realized her gifts were actually curses, and refuses to remove it. Ella goes back, and is eventually demoted from “lord’s daughter” to “maid”. She still writes letters to Char (currently in a foreign kingdom, but before that, when he came to try and talk to her, her sister forbid her from leaving her room so she would have all his attention), but eventually stops and even writes a fake letter from her sister to convince him that she never cared/doesn’t care about him, because she realized it would be too dangerous for them to be together; with her curse, she could easily be made to hurt or kill him. Flash forward, and Char returns home. The king throws balls, and she goes, because even if she can’t be with or let him know who she is, she just wants to see him again. Char is drawn to her, and for a lot of the three balls, they’re together. At the end, her stepsister gets jealous, and right as Char proposes (because Ella, despite having to lie about her identity, is the most honest person at the ball and a friend already), she grabs her mask, revealing her identity. Char reaches her home before she can leave, and there’s a whole scene where he finds out she’s a scullery maid, that the letter was a lie, and says that she doesn’t have to be Ella if she doesn’t want to be, and she says she’s not, and he asks if she loves him, and she does– and then it’s all ruined because he accidentally orders her to marry him, and then her stepmother tells her to, and all the while she’s fighting the curse, because she doesn’t want to endanger him and their nation, and doesn’t want her step family to be rich and powerful, and finally– she says no. She gets so excited to say no, to refuse, that she didn’t even fully realize she broke the curse until Mandy (her fairy godmother) tells her. Anyway, they all lived happily ever after. Ella is one of my favorite Cinderellas ever and I really hope I did a good job of explaining her and what her story is about (it’s been a while since I’ve read the book)

I was so enraptured with this book as a kid, it had such an impact on my young mind. Got me into fantasy.

BEST CINDERELLA!!! please use the picture from the book cover and not the movie 🙏

She breaks her curse spell in such a magnificent way. Like yes she embodies the whole “kindness” and “courageous” characteristics that Cinderellas are known for, but for her she’s been forced to be obedient as well. And while she thinks can rise above anything she soon learns she will just hurt so many more people that way. She chose to be self-sacrificing because it was the one way she could express her love that wouldn’t harm anyone (then). But! But! She also ends up getting to be selfish! And that is also a great kindness! To herself and to those whom love her and she loves in return. All that after she breaks the curse.

She can mimic languages. :) She refused to marry the love of her life and thus broke her curse. :) She fell in love via letters. :) She lied to the royal family that orange carriages are very popular in a nearby city.

brave, smart, a linguist, a nerd, she evolves steadily and beautifully throughout the book, with a sharp voice that never stops being distinctive and fun to hang with.

complex character coool as fuck premise and also. the nostalgia of it all

Cinders:

She spent decades searching every moon and planet trying to find her wife (Rose), who was kidnapped on their wedding day. Eventually, she found Rose, and they embraced, only for Rose to die in Cinder’s arms. And so Cinder killed the king who had kidnapped Rose by punching through his chest and into his heart.

And then Cinder got a somewhat happy ending, in which she met Rose’s clone who had Rose’s memories.

What if Cinderella was a Sci-Fi lesbian? Well here she is. She has a whole love song about searching the stars for her girlfriend after their wedding was interrupted and she was taken away. She spends years searching only to when she finally finds and embraces her watch her be shot. Cinders is so devastated by this that she plunges her wedding ring into the heart of the man who shot her love killing him.

Lesbian space princess who elopes with the terrifying soldier who was previously conquering her planet and spends decades searching for her when they’re separated. Listen to her song https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6w9V-gMgBF4

I think the way she punches the evil king through the heart as revenge for her wife is pretty neat.

She’s a revolutionary married to a woman, what’s not to love? From Cinders’ Song: “ When I was a little girl, my mother always told me / “Someday your prince will come, my love” / But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me”.

her girlfriend got cloned and most of said clones were brutally slaughtered in war and she searched for her girlfriend all throughout the galaxy and when they were finally reunited on the battlefield her girlfriend died. and a clone of her girlfriend who due to technical errors retained her memories, so does that count as the same girlfriend? theseus’s girlfriend? anyway vote for cinders she’s been through hell

Lesbian!! Has to search for her lost love Rose with her glass wedding ring that changes color when its near its partner!! Gets to embrace Rose once again for one final moment before the villain kills Rose right in front of her!! So Cinders kills him in return!! And she’s left as (almost) the only surviving main character from her own album but!! She is eventually reunited with a clone of Rose, and while they cannot have a truly ‘happy ever after’ together they are the ones graced with the closest thing to it

SPACE LESBIANS (she’s in love with Rose Red, who gets kidnapped on their wedding day and Cinders searches the galaxy to find her, waiting for her white ring to turn crimson, indicating that its twin was near) She took her name from the ashes of her burning planet <3 She also killed Old King Cole >:)

shes a tragic lesbian and killed a violent dictator shes literally the best

shes gay shes traumatized she dates both rose red and sleeping beauty. badass space wanderer looking for her wife

Her wife Rose gets kidnapped on their wedding day and Cinders spend the next thirty years looking for her. She finds her (:D) and then Rose dies (D:) and then Cinders kills the guy who killed Rose (girlboss).

shes a lesbian. she lost her wife, Rose (yes, as in sleeping beauty) the day they got married bc she was kidnapped. she spent 20 YEARS looking for her. as soon as she found her wife, Rose DIED IN HER ARMS. Cinders has gone through Too Much to lose this poll

(Her info from the wiki) the Princess of a planet burnt by King Cole’s army, after it is ceded by her stepmother. She is imprisoned, meets Rose and plans to marry her. She is released by her godmother for the wedding, then flees when the attack happens, spending thirty years looking for Rose. Her half of the wedding ring will light up when she finds Rose.

“When I was a little girl, my mother always told me 'Someday your prince will come, my love’ But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me I looked to the stars for you, my love” She’s lesbian Cinderella IN SPACE. She fell in love with her wife in prison and they ran away to have a secret marriage but the empire kidnapped Rose on their wedding night and Cinders had to leave her behind. She searches for Rose for decades with the glass ring that guides her to its twin on her wife’s finger. She finally reunites with her love after Rose rips three supersoldiers to pieces with her bare hands (hot) but then then the evil king kills Rose so Cinders fucking punches through his heart. And then a clone of Rose (who is also lesbian Sleeping Beauty IN SPACE) finds her cradling her wife’s body and they have a happy reunion(?) and maybe they didn’t have a happy ending BUT WHAT IF THEY HAD EACH OTHER? HUH? AAAAAH

she’s everything. she’s a princess from a long since conquered planet. she was imprisoned to make a statement of the brutal reign of old king cole. she met her wife while she was in prison, a beautiful brutal soldier covered in scars from battles. cinders and rose fell in love, so cinders’ godmother in white broke her out of jail so rose and cinders could be together. they were going to be married, except that OLD KING COLE intervened and kidnapped rose to make her the genetic base of his unholy army. so cinders spends THIRTY YEARS searching the galaxies for her love (and sings a really cool song about it called “Cinders’ Song”) until finally she arrives during the final battle just in time to see old king cole SHOOT ROSE DEAD. so cinders punches the king so hard (with her wedding ring) that he just Crumples Into Dust. the end! (no we do not talk about the fiction.)

lesbian, for one, and for two i don’t really care i just think it’d be cool if she got in/if she made it past the first round

no one seems to have linked cinder’s song yet, so here [Link]

better yet, listen to the whole album too, for context and also what comes after. it slaps and also tragedy it’s such a good album suhc a good band too

Someone already sent the song as propaganda, so I will provide SPOILER propaganda. [Click link to see spoilers.]

[Link]

#cinderpoll #round 7 #finals #ella of frell #ella enchanted #gail carson levine #cinders #once upon a time in space #the mechanisms #cinderella #fairytale #poll tournament #poll bracket #character polls #polls

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obsessive-valentine · 5 months

Text

Platonic!Mad-Scientist + Experiment!GN!Reader

A mad scientist finally crates a humanistic being, but they are so realistic he can’t find it in him to scrap them like the rest of his experiments. Readers physical age is described just as ‘young’ and later he sees them as his ‘child’, but it’s up to interpretation what they look like etc.

Many things are kept secret by the government such as labs of unethical testing and creations, from mutated virus’ to deformed animals. But the mad scientist always had his mind on something bigger, there were many failed attempts, ones that looked like Frankensteins monster others that looked menacing and uncanny or some made partially from mechanics making them to powerful.

One thing they all had in common was none of them acted like a human, none could fool him into thinking they were their own being. Until you, a completely sentient mind and on top of that you looked normal. It took years to grow you from scratch, hundreds of surgeries to be sure you’d continue growing, inserting mechanical pieces and organic but never using organs or cells from others. You were completely from scratch; a human with no lineage.

He intended to experiment on his latest success and later eliminate them to make a newer improved being. This meant he emotionally was distant once he’d brought you to life, he met your needs to keep you alive and left without a word. He continued to see you as a experiment no matter how many times you tried to get some form of comfort from your caregiver.

You were a experiment to him, not a helpless being new to the word, not a child... until you was. Visit after visit and test after test his brain began to recognise you as a person, something he’d never felt towards the rest of his uncanny experiments.

What started as flat explanations to your questions turned to conversations, bland food trays became more colourful, you was introduced to chocolate and soft blankets. He brought you a floppy stuffed dog one morning after seeing you hold onto your pillow throughout the night instead of using it for your head.

He tried to be indifferent when giving you such luxuries, leaving them behind on the floor without a word before he left or using them as bargaining chips- even though he’d give them to you anyways.

Experiments weren’t as harsh anymore and he rarely made you take needles or medicine unless he deemed necessary. Then experiments and tests stopped all together. He became withdrawn for a few weeks, fighting with his instincts telling him to keep you and look after you, while his scientist brain told him to rid of you like he’d planned.

One night he snapped. He interrupted your sleep, ripping the blankets from your grip and pulling you from the bed by your hand “come on, we’re leaving” was all he said as he pulled you out the door. Staggering behind him in confusion, he took you to his office, it was a mess of papers and files- a chalk board full of muddled writing that extended onto the walls- a small television screen displaying a image of your white cell partially blocked by test tubes and vails of weird colours.

He let go of your hand searching for paper, he found a ripped envelope and wrote on the blank side, he scribbled away -writing about his resignation, making up a story about how he found its impossible to create a true human from scratch, how he’s frustrated and loosing his mind so he’s choosing to leave for his own sakes. How he’s exterminated all prior experiments including his latest, you.

It’s was mostly a lie though, he had no intentions of killing you. You his greatest success, he’s not going to share you with the world, expose you to the cruelties of experimentation in the name of science. Not anymore.

He pins the note to his door, collects the documentations that recorded how he had made you and shoved them in his bag. Before grabbing your hand once again, taking you to his car.

You would be on days long road trip living out of the car that you had both fled the lab with, he allowed himself to grow closer to you, for his instincts to protect you. You both shopped for new clothes and games, stopped the car whenever he saw a restaurant you might like, taught you classic games like ‘I spy’ when you’d get bored.

He found a remote town and almost instantly bought a house there, sold his car with no intentions to leave, and moved all the stuff- you both had collected the past few days- into the new house. That night you watched movies on the old chunky tv left behind from the previous owner, comfortably on the sofa that was beside the fireplace, he had bathed you, cut your hair and wrapped you up in blankets. He had one more thing to do to truly feel at peace.

He sat in front of the fire place, feeding it the documents of your creation, file by file and lastly his ID badge from the lab. No body will know, you will forget over time (if not he will make you believe it was just a bad dream) and become just his kid, and him- just a single dad who moved here to start a quiet life for his child after beginning it in a rough patch. Watching the papers become ash and settling on the bottom; he placed another log ontop “Now, what can I make you for dinner?” he smiled turning to you.

#platonic yandere #mad scientist #yandere oc #+reader

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ovaryacted · 3 months

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Having the worst period cramps I've had in a while, so may I request a lil bit of period fluff with re2 leon?

Hey there anon! So sorry to hear that your period cramps are especially bad this time around, I really hate when that happens. Even though it's been a while since you sent this in, I hope this little drabble piece will bring you some comfort. Also hoping that your period is a bit better now too, take care. 🩶

1.1k words | cw: fluff, modernized RE2 Leon x reader, mentions of menstrual cycle

It doesn’t matter how often you forgot you had a cycle, the moment the red river of doom appeared every month it still always took you off guard. It was always the same, the cramps, the sickly flow, the soreness, the heat flashes, and the lightheadiness followed by nausea and loss of appetite. It was all too damn much.

You hated it, and it always put a damper on your mood and disrupted your routine. If you were allowed to pause your cycle like a subscription, you absolutely would. Sadly, periods don’t work that way. To make matters worse, this particular cycle seemed to be harsher than the ones you’ve had before. The cramps were more like consistent punches to the gut than the usual pinch that eventually went away.

Currently in bed doubled over with a hand over your heating pad, it was the only position you found to be comfortable. Frankly, you felt like shit, the constant pain in your body was putting you through a whirlwind of emotions that could quickly spiral out of control if you let it. Instinctively, you curled more into yourself, a fresh wave of cramps making your whole body shiver from the strength of it.

What did I do to deserve this treatment?

Before your thoughts could get any more melancholic, you heard the bedroom door creak open. Lifting your head at the noise, your eyes peeled away from the current tiktok on your phone to meet with crystal blues that felt warmer than anything else.

“Hey sweetheart”, Leon said softly, coming towards you on your side of the bed. He already knew what was going on, could tell from the way you were snuggled up and wore his hoodie to comfort yourself.

“Hey”, your voice was rather meek, not fully meeting the blonde in the eye for a moment before your body changed angles, turning so you’d face him on the edge of the bed instead. He had a mug in his hand and placed it down on the bedside table, probably something for you to drink as you huddled up in your bedroom.

“Brought you some tea and Midol that might help. Are you holding up okay?”, he asked, running a soft hand over your cheek. You accepted the touch, sighing at the gentle contact.

“Trying to, the cramps are beating my ass this time around”, you muttered, groaning in discomfort when your point was proven as you felt the familiar spasms in your gut again. “Can’t believe I’m being punished because I didn’t pop out a damn baby”

That got you a light chuckle from Leon who gave you a sympathetic look. His fingers on your cheek went towards your head, running his digits through your scalp as if he were petting you like a cat. His touch was a mere distraction from the ache you felt, like an intense push and pull in your pelvis that just couldn’t be stopped.

“Is it that bad now? I’m sorry hun”, of course, he was trying to be supportive. He’s only seen your cycle impact you this badly a handful of times, and every time he wishes he could take that pain away so you never had to deal with it again.

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“Is getting rid of my uterus an option?”, you were joking, but with how you felt, you had half a mind to consider it before your next period hit.

“I’m just a guy babe, not a board-certified surgeon. If I was, it would be an option”, he could only entertain the thought, ever the considerate guy. At least he made you laugh a bit, even if it hurt to do so.

“How about I go and get you some food? Do you have any specific requests?”, Leon didn’t mind getting stuff for you, hell that was what he enjoyed doing. Whatever it took to make you feel less irritable, he’d do it.

“Maybe a sandwich of some kind? I don’t know, I’m just craving something to munch on”, sometimes you were timid in asking for things, as if you didn’t have a boyfriend who would drop everything to give you the world and more.

“Want me to go get you that burger from your favorite place? With an order of curly fries and a milkshake right?”, Leon saw the way your eyes brightened up at the thought of getting some greasy food you liked, and he only smiled back at you.

“Yeah, that would be nice”

“Burger, fries, and a milkshake coming right up. Take some of the pills and drink your tea, I’ll be back alright?”, you nodded, Leon leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. He got up from the bed, giving you one more glance before walking out of your shared room. You could hear him grab the keys to his jeep from the trinket bowl in the entryway and close the door behind him, taking a Midol pill and downing it with some tea as you waited for his return.

It was 40 minutes of scrolling on TikTok and trying to find something to watch on Netflix before you heard the door of your apartment open and close again. There was the shuffling of what sounded like multiple bags, Leon coming in to peek his head through the bedroom door with a plastic bag in hand and a milkshake in the other.

“So, I went on a quick shopping trip. Got your food, and some more of what you need for this time so you can be stocked up. I didn’t know if you wanted your chips or anything, so I just got you everything you liked. Oh, and I found those frozen chocolate-covered strawberry treats you liked, just figured you’d want some later”, Leon placed the milkshake down on your bedside table, giving you a sheepish grin as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You didn’t have to get all of that for me…”, it still surprised you how Leon was willing to give you what you wanted without having to lift a finger.

“Yeah, I did. Wanted you to have what you needed, it’s not a big deal”, he shrugged, kissing you on the lips which you happily received with a hum.

“Besides, I don’t like seeing you cranky. Best to avoid any possibility of a tantrum”, you rolled your eyes at that, shaking your head but your lips curled in a smile.

“I love you”, one of your fingers curled around a blonde strand of hair that fell in front of his face.

“I love you too silly. Now eat so we can watch something, I saw that they just put some new rom-com on Netflix”, Leon said excitedly, finding the remote to the TV as you began to dig in the bag to take a bite out of a curly fry.

Sure, this cycle may be bad, but you’ll be able to get through it so long Leon was there to help.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon kennedy #resident evil drabble #resident evil imagines #ovaryacted asks #ovaryacted drabbles

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mysadcorner · 9 months

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Hi! I love your Jason Todd stuff and idk if you write stuff like this, but I was wondering how you think Jason would react to his s.o safe wording for the first time?

If you don't do things like this that's completely fine and I'm sorry about asking.

Jason Todd x Reader Using The Safe Word Headcanons

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-Credit to the images owners - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -

Masterlist Navigation

• When you first use the safe word while being intimate with Jason he’ll absolutely freak out. The last thing he would ever willing do would be to hurt you, so the thought of you having to ask him to stop because he’s going ti far will cause him a lot of distress on top of your own.

• If the two of you were engaged in something on the “hardcore” side of intimacy then he’s be a mess, begging for forgiveness as he stops what he’s doing and checking up on you. He’ll assess the damage and try to soothe you both emotionally and physically since he clearly wasn’t ensuring you were fine enough during the act.

• If you said the safe word simply because you were overwhelmed, not that Jason was doing anything which resulted in you being hurt, then he’d try his best to ease you out of you discomfort and bring you back to a stable condition. He’s also going to soothe you when this happens and try his best to calm you down from whatever limit he pushed you too far over.

• He’d sure you’re cleaned up so that you can settle down easier and get rid of the discomfort you may be feeling in that moment. It’s easier for him to get you wrapped up in bed and get you back to feeling alright again if you’re not sitting covered in sweat and other things that occurred during intimacy.

• Afterwards, Jason would make sure that you were comfortable and feeling able to lie in bed properly while he checks over you. He’d bring you food and drinks, and massage any places that ache, as well as checking in on you emotionally to make sure he hadn’t caused a negative impact on your relationship with him or made you feel like you can’t be comfortable around him again.

• He’d ask you to open up to him and talk about what had just happened and why it may have been too much for you, but only once you feel like you’re ready to. He needs to know how he overstepped so that he never makes that same mistake again, and communication is something Jason hugely values for a healthy and understanding relationship. No matter how big or small the problem was, he’ll take whatever you say on board.

• He may be slightly hesitant to be intimate again with you for a little while due to feeling like he made you overwhelmed or hurt you and feels ashamed about it, even though he never meant too push you too far. You may need to reassure him and talk to him about what happened a few times before he starts engaging in that way, but it will still take him a little while to get back into rougher or kinkier kinds of things with you again.

• After you use the safe word for the first time, Jason will be checking in on you a lot more and asking for verbal input regarding everything he’s doing towards you while being intimate. He already dod this before, but after pushing you too far he feels a lot more comfortable knowing how you’re feeling at all times so it’s much less likely of happening again.

#dc x reader #dc #dc x you #dc comics headcanons #dc comics #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd dc #jason todd headcanons #jaosn todd x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood headcanons #red hood #red hood x reader

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jqnehr · 3 months

Text

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲

you and zayne enjoy a picnic together.

word count: 1.6k contains: fluff, crack, my shitty writing strikes again zayne x reader so!! with the poll voting zayne as the winner, I have presented you with the fic y'all wanted!! this idea came to me in the nick of time when I saw his memory of him peeling an apple. and, due to receiving a few asks about xavier, his fic will be uploaded today or sometime this week!!

“do you like your apples peeled?” zayne’s hazel-green eyes are obscured by his raven fringe. he’s already peeling the apple in his hand, relaxed against the picnic mat you’d both laid out upon the grass, basket beside him. today’s little date involved you coercing zayne into finally taking a day off, much to his reluctance. you made sure he’d dressed appropriately—in comfortable, warm casual clothes with a woollen cardigan to keep himself from the cold. not that he’d really feel it, anyway—his evol seems to boost his resilience to the somewhat chilly air. still, you’re making sure all precautions are taken.

“I do,” you respond, straightening from the picnic basket you were just rummaging through, looking for the paper cups you swear you packed. the 2 litre bottle of fizzy lemonade you’d picked up at the convenience store on the way here sits beside you, still chilled, and the sun is beginning to rise quite high in the sky, its rays becoming rather toasty. you’d long shed yourself of your sweater, now acting as a pillow to lie back on to look up at the sky. it’s a lovely day today, hardly a cloud overhead, the breeze soft and with a slight bite. “I packed the paper cups, right?” “I wouldn’t know.” as per usual, zayne never misses a chance to poke playfully at you with those toneless words of his. “you’re the one who forced me out of my car today just as I was entering the hospital. you practically kidnapped me.”

“you can file a report once you get back to your apartment, then,” you shoot back promptly, biting back a grin. “can’t blame you if you did—you look positively distressed right now. you’re just itching to head back and work yourself to death, aren’t you?”

zayne finishes peeling the apple and pulls out the small wooden cutting board you’d also packed for this very reason. he picks up a small knife and slices the apple into six pieces. “maybe I should file for a restraining order. that way, I’ll finally be able to work in peace, hm?”

“you’ll be able to die from overwork in peace, too, and then this world would have lost its best cardiac surgeon.” you reach for a piece of apple and munch on it, peering teasingly up at the man before you through your lashes. “and I’d have lost the love of my life. don’t you think that’s such an unfair trade?”

you catch the flicker of a wince—well, more like a cringe—flash across zayne’s face before it’s stone again. your grin widens at his brief reaction. he side-eyes you, fully aware of just what you’re up to. “for once, you’ve actually said something that makes sense. keep on eating that apple, there, [name]. an apple a day will keep you away.”

you smack his arm at his words, hand meeting solid muscle through his clothes, and he barely flinches. it’s not like you’d ever slap him very hard, anyway. “you’re an idiot. and you’re a cardiac surgeon. what’s me eating an apple going to do to keep me away from your services?”

his eyes narrow at your wording. “the saying, for your information, is actually true—eating apples in fact decreases the chances of heart disease. it also lowers your risk of high blood pressure. I’ll give you a bouquet of apples next time.”

“you seem to be in no rush to get away from nor get back to your office.” you pointedly avoid the slices of apple on his lap and reach over for the tiramisu and spoon you’d sneaked into the basket while he wasn’t looking. zayne eyes it—not with hunger, but with poorly hidden distaste. his expression doesn’t go unnoticed. “oh, zayne—it’s not like I have these kinds of desserts everyday. rid your mind of work and relax a little, alright? I’m young, and I’m not going to collapse from a heart attack from one bite.”

“the bad habits you’re forming now will accumulate up and will eventually transpire in your old age—”

you answer by shoving the spoonful of tiramisu into his mouth, cutting him off. zayne’s eyes widen, and he coughs a little when he unintentionally inhales the cocoa powder dusted atop the dessert in surprise. you choke back your laughter. “it’s nice, huh? want some more?” zayne shoots you a look that has you torn between excitement and intimidation. he slowly lifts a hand to wrap around yours that holds the spoon in his mouth. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the dessert and takes the utensil from his mouth, tongue flicking out to lick up what’s left of the cream at the corner of his mouth. it may seem like a perfectly normal action, but it’s making your imagination run wild. the bastard knows what he’s doing, but he still arches a ‘clueless’ eyebrow, eyes glinting with amusement. “what’s got you so silent now?” “ahem!” you quickly retreat, stabbing the spoon back into the tiramisu, taking a bite yourself, uncaring whether he also licked the spoon or not. indirect kiss, I guess? you cringe at your own thoughts. ew, don’t be weird. “anyways, moving on. there’s another container of this in there for you, if you want it.”

“no, thank you, I have a diet to keep to.”

you roll your eyes, pointing your spoon at him. “boy, you have a bigger sweet tooth than me. do you think I don’t see all those chocolates you sneak? I’m amazed you don’t have a head full of rotten teeth.”

“I just wish to keep my current body shape and weight.” zayne unclips the lid of a plastic container full of neatly sliced fruit, something he probably packed himself. he glances up at you without moving his head, through his long lashes. “a body shape you enjoy a little too much.”

you blush. “wh-whatever! there’s no harm in indulging yourself from time to time, you know?”

“like how you adore indulging yourself in me all the time?” “okay! I get it! I get your point.” your face is about to explode into flames. you go back to stabbing at your tiramisu, bested and smarting. you shift on the mat to sit with your legs at your side, leaning against the trunk of the tree beside you both, muttering to yourself, “it’s not as if you don’t like it either…”

“what was that?” he’d heard you loud and clear, but he enjoys watching you flush and squirm.

“nothing! nothing at all.” it’s like you’re a teenager again, innocent and oblivious and very prone to blushing. whenever zayne dresses and talks and looks at you like that, you feel like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time.

flustered silence from you and smug quietude from zayne is all that reigns for a few moments, the man watching the park’s distant bubbling fountain absently, popping a grape into his mouth occasionally. you two had picked a rather secluded space—far away from the sound of traffic and squealing children and frollicking dogs, underneath the shade of a tree, the area quiet and private. also, his sharp, handsome features are now rather well-known to the populace after that article on him being the top cardiac surgeon at asko hospital and in the world went viral. you found all the teenage girls going crazy over him in the comments rather amusing. now, you’re unfailing in teasing him about his fanclub whenever you get the chance. too bad zayne just doesn’t care. he hardly ever reacts to your jests.

your embarrassment eventually fades and soon you’re looking for something else to annoy him with. however, zayne seems to have sensed your plotting as he turns his head towards you, chin propped in his hand as his elbow leans against the side of his knee. “whatever you’re up to this time, I wouldn’t bother.”

you sniff indignantly, playing innocent. “you’re paranoid. I just wanted some grapes.”

he obliges, handing the container to you. “did you find the paper cups?”

“no. I think I forgot them.” you make to rummage through the picnic basket again. “there’s a can of sparkling water in here, if you want it.” you hold it up, reading the label. “lime-flavoured. I thought I got berry.”

“it’s alright.” zayne’s quiet voice holds no inflection of annoyance—or anything, really. as usual. “is it still cold?” condensation rolls down the can’s side, but it has heated to room temperature. “no. a shame. would you like it?” “here.” he holds out his hand for it, and you promptly comply. but instead of cracking it open, the ice-blue glow of his evol envelops the can. soon, he’s handing it back to you. “there you go. you look thirsty.”

“uh, thanks.” surprised, you listen and stare at the hiss and bubble of the sparkling water reacting to you opening the can. “are you sure you don’t want any? there’s another can in there, if you’d like it.”

zayne smiles at you. the rare sight always strips you of your breath. “that’s alright. here, eat the rest of this apple.” he places the small chopping board with the slices of apple on it upon your lap. he leans back and places his cheek upon his fist, watching you fondly. “it’s good for you.”

you throw one more smart comment his way. “if anyone’s giving me a heart attack here, it’s you, doc.”

it’s funny how he’s changed his tone now. “that means you get to keep seeing me.”

“aren’t you the one adamantly against heart problems?”

“not when it involves you sticking around.”

you grin. “so you won’t file for a restraining order?”

zayne chuckles. “I’ll drop off a basket of apples in front of your apartment every week instead.”

“and keep a bowl in your office?”

“and keep a bowl in my office.”

wow. I didn't expect my headcanons drabble to blow up bro. tyasm for your support 😭🙏

masterlist

#⌗ ༘ ⋆｡𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐒❜ works !#ᝰ dividers by @/hitobaby !#the banner up top w zayne in it is made by me!! please do not use with or without credit <3 #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne love and deepspace x reader #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace drabbles #oracleofstars

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