#︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

[urfavgoodgirl-kitty]

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

this is me all day

[bratdotcom]

Sweet Like Apples

swansea x coworker!reader ⋆ asking him to open fruit for you (read part one of the coworker!au here)

⋆ tags : coworker!au, established relationship, coworkers to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, swansea acts a little mean bc he doesn't want daisuke to think he's gone soft (you're really killing his tough guy persona)

word count : 1k+ (and proud!! >3<) ⋆

Daisuke and Swansea sit together in the Tuplar's conversation pit. Daisuke sits with one heel on the couch, balancing the book in his hands with his knee. Swansea watches quietly as he scribbles his answers onto paper, already knowing which ones he's gotten wrong without giving the sheet a second glance.

Swansea exhales calmly.

The kid was starting to grow on him. He was beginning to think he was too harsh.

He softly reprimands the intern, no actual disdain behind his words. Swansea keeps his voice steady, though. Can't let the kid think he was going soft. "Don't sit like that." The older man lightly taps his shoulder, making Daisuke's hold on his pencil slip. "You wanna end up like me?"

Daisuke fixes his posture, sitting more properly on the L-shaped couch. He gives Swansea a quick roll of his eyes and continues to concentrate on his book work. Swansea rolls his eyes in response, a small, barely noticeable wry grin on his face as he looks away.

Ever since you came into his life, acknowledged his feelings for you, the whole world seemed a whole lot better. Brighter, even. Compared to the artificial stimulation of the sunlit sky, splayed across the living room walls.

The screen was bright, but damn, you were brighter.

"Let me see that." Swansea holds out his work-worn palms, gesturing for Daisuke to give him his mechanic's handbook. He obliges, hesitantly scanning his tired face for approval. The older man points at each line of ink with the tip of lead, reading over the bubbled answers Daisuke put in.

The tension was palpable. To Daisuke, at least.

To Swansea, this was another day at work. "You got all of these wrong." He says, dragging the nub of Daisuke's pencil over each question number, voice gruff yet lenient this time around, even though by now, he would've called him out on his mistakes.

Daisuke was a good kid. He had a good head on his shoulders. Even though he acted stupid. Swansea could probably count enough times on his hands how reckless he was at his age.

Another sigh leaves his person. Swansea sets the pencil in between the pages of Daisuke's workbook and places it down on the palette-shaped coffee table.

Swansea strums his fingers against his thigh before methodically standing up, using the wooden divider that separates the conversation pit from the rest of the lobby to support his weight. "Let's take a break." he suggests, much to Daisuke's surprise.

"Wait- what? Really?" he asks, eyes widened in a mixture of shock and surprise. A part of him was relieved that he wouldn't have to stick his nose into a musty book, but another part of him was genuinely surprised that Swansea of all people was suggesting that he should take a breather.

"Fifteen minutes." He states firmly, arms crossed over his beer belly. "That's all you're gonna get outta this, kid." he tilts his head off to the side, waiting for the younger man to get up himself.

Daisuke grins at him,fifteen minutes was better than getting no minutes at all. Swansea huffs out a quiet laugh, watching as his intern makes a beeline to the kitchen, your expanse of the ship and expertise.

Just as he thought, you were there. Apron and all, cutting up fruits into little cubes.

For a guy like him, the kitchen was small. A little cramped for his size, but in a comforting sort of way. He knew you'd be here, always, waiting for him. Just like that night you shared with him weeks before.

Having three people in the kitchen definitely made it more crowded than it needed to be. Swansea's glad that you and Daisuke were chatting amongst yourselves. You, being too focused on explaining what you were making and Daisuke, too absorbed in listening along and sneakily grabbing bites of cut up fruit to slip into his hand for later. Swansea doesn't say a word.

A warm feeling in his chest as he watches the two people he cared for most on the ship talking to each other. There was a word for this feeling, wasn't there? He couldn't remember.

"Swansea, hun, can you help me with this apple?" You crane your head away from the counter top to address the man directly. Swansea almost chokes. The way the nickname easily leaves your lips, like you've been married for years, even though you just recently admitted your feelings for him.

You were going to be the death of him.

Swansea smooths out the company logo on his shirt. His heart was beating wildly against his chest like a battering ram, all because you decided to call him something other than his own name. You called him hun. All you did was call him hun.

He pretends to let out an uninterested huff as he saunters over, a strong hand over the logo of his work uniform.

If Daisuke wasn't in the room with you he would've reacted much worse.

Swansea's intimidating frame looms over you. "Gimme that." He says, holding out his other hand. "The apple?" you ask, setting down your paring knife. "No sweetheart, the bowl." Swansea replies flatly, Daisuke snickers. Swansea shoots a glare at the younger man, as if to quiet him, which he instantly obliges.

With a soft chuckle, you hand him the apple. "I need this guy for the fruit salad." You explain, watching curiously as Swansea twists the stem, tossing it off into the pile of scraps you had neatly set off to the side. "You're not going to use a knife?"

"I don't need a knife." he replies, the meat of his palms digging into the apple. His calloused fingers dip into the calyx of the apple. With a twist of his wrists, Swansea cleanly splits the apple in half.

Once again, Swansea pretends that it's nothing and hands you the apple. The apple that he split in half with his bare hands.

It was his turn to make you feel all warm in the chest now. "You're welcome, by the way. Just make sure I get a bite before everyone else does, alright hun?"

Hun. Hearing Swansea call you that almost gives you a heart attack.

Swansea smiles at you like you were the only person in the kitchen with him. He walks out of the kitchen, content with your reaction. The wide-eyed look you gave him was priceless.

He sits at the kitchen table, smiling boyishly as he hears Daisuke hammering you with questions about your relationship with his superior. He'll step in eventually. But for now he'll enjoy the feeling of content in his chest.

[avydabby]

With Love ~ OBX SMAU

🍒💄💋 character introduction, insta profiles, etc.,

💃 warnings: pervy rafe?, thirsty rafe?

This is barely anything, but here is a snippet of my OBX SMAU

💋🍒💋🍒💋🍒💋🍒💋🍒💋🍒💋🍒💋🍒💋

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

taglist: @jelybely @mrsdrewstarkeyy @riah1606 @stoned-writer @angelicameron

comment or dm me to be added to the taglist for this series!!

[joelmillergirl]

Hot n' Cold

Word count: 4,898

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, creampie, hard/passionate sex, cowboy🤠

Authors Note: It was hot, I wrote smut, what do you want from me.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You had your curtains drawn, shielding your house from the violent light outside. It was officially Summer, and you were already hating it. 

Summer had always been your least favourite season, even before the outbreak when you had better access to fans and coolers. Now, finding a fan that wasn’t rusted and broken was rare, a reality you tried hardest not to think about.

You had resorted to laying down on your kitchen tiles, limbs spread out lazily in almost a desperate attempt to cool off. You prayed that someone here in Jackson would be able to get the old air conditioning units working, but given it had been a year of trial and error, you weren’t feeling too hopeful. 

With a huff, you sluggishly lift up your arm, checking the time on your old watch. It was just getting into the evening, and with no sign of the heat dimming down just yet, you accepted defeat. 

With no energy to do anything, you decided then and there that the rest of your day would look the same, you laying on your floor until it cooled down enough so you’d be able to have a decent amount of sleep. Your plans, however, were rudely interrupted by knocking at your front door. 

You lift your head up slightly, eyes training past your living room to the front entrance, “Are you fucking kidding me?” You groan, seeing a blurry figure waiting through the stained glass next to your door. 

Only when three more knocks echoed through the house did you grudgingly pull yourself up, almost limping to the front door due to your lack of energy. You were frowning when you opened the door, face to face with your closest friend. 

“I know.” Joel nodded, looking almost smug at your unamused expression. “How you handlin’ it?” 

If even possible, your face contorted further into a frown, shaking your head slightly at him. “I’m sweating from places I don’t even feel comfortable naming.” You deadpanned, biting your lip to smother a smile. 

Joel hummed, his eyes quickly raking over your figure before coming back to rest on your face, “Tommy’s got people working on getting the units workin’” 

You interrupt him, “Okay… Joel? Inside, please. The heat is literally hitting me on the face and I’m about to just lose my cool.” 

With a nod, he stepped inside the border of your house, gently closing the door behind him. “Do you even have any cool to lose?” He joked.

You glare at him for a moment before going back to your kitchen, slumping down on the floor. “They’ve been trying to get them to work for ages, I will go out there myself and get them to work if I do not hear that thing running anytime soon.” You point to the air conditioning unit in the living room. 

“They’ll get it sorted. Don’t think they particularly appreciate workin’ in this weather fixing somethin’.” He said, groaning as he sat down adjacent to you, head leaning back against your fridge. 

He suddenly frowned, looking over his shoulder slightly at the fridge behind him, then he was up, knees cracking beneath him as he moved to where you were, nudging you out the way. You looked at him confused. He nudged his head towards the fridge, “Go sit there.” 

You complied, moving to sit where Joel had been, an instant flush of cool hit the back of your neck. “Dammit, why didn’t I think of this.” You mutter, pressing your back against the cold steel.

“Heat‘s messin’ with ya, huh?” Joel chuckled, tilting his head slightly. You shake your head in response, gently closing your eyes and untensing your limbs. 

You met Joel four years ago when Tommy had introduced you to him. He’d just arrived at Jackson, and you’d been assigned to be his patrol partner which was only supposed to last a couple months, but you’d been such a good duo, Maria had decided to make it permanent. 

Over the past couple months though, your relationship with him had seemingly changed. With recent struggles brewing between him and Ellie, you seemed to always be by his side, for his comfort but also your own. You didn’t always have to talk with him, a lot of the time you’d sit comfortably next to each other, doing your own thing whilst he strummed on his guitar.

The boundary line was ever so slowly becoming blurred, feelings becoming confusing. But like a lot of topics that required confrontation, you push it to the back of your mind, adopting the quote; out of sight out of mind. 

“What’s got that head worked up?” Joel mumbled in front of you, dragging your mind back to reality. 

You looked at him for a moment, blinking slowly. “Nothing.” You plainly say, smiling at him gently before closing your eyes again. 

The next day wasn’t any better. 

The air conditioning still wasn’t working and your tactic of closing the curtains to deflect the heat, was now failing. Rather than lying on your tiles, moping all day, you had resorted to hanging out in The Tipsy Bison, a cozy makeshift bar in the middle of Jackson. 

The only reason you’d packed up the courage to be in such a social setting was due to the cold drinks offered there and most importantly, it had a big fan mounted to the wall that actually worked. It was a step up from how hot you were yesterday, and the drink in your hand was helping to cool your skin. 

The leather next to you sunk as someone sat down in the empty booth you were sitting at. You turn your head to your left, coming face to face with Tommy; Joel’s younger brother. “Hi,” He smiled, “Fuckin’ steamin’ out there.” 

You raise your eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Steaming?” 

“Yeah.” Tommy nodded, leaning over to peer into your glass, “Some people are out there, sweatin’ their gooch off, trynna get air working for lazy folks like you.” 

A pair of women next to your booth look over at his words, eyeing you and Tommy down. You quickly look away. “Can you not speak like that in public?” You huff, close to speechless. 

Tommy laughs loudly, finding himself hilarious, but suddenly his demeanour changes and he turns to you with a serious look. “So… How’s Joel?” 

You look at him for a moment before answering, “He’s your brother, ask him yourself.” You’re silent for a second before you smile, “Why’re you here bothering me? Go get the air working.” 

He shakes his head, a smile spread wide across his face, "Just have to get out the heat for a fuckin, minute. Saw you here... Haven't talked for a while."

"And the first thing you wanna do is ask how your brother is?" You ask, tilting your head slightly at him.

He looks away from you, sucking in a breath, "Feisty."

“Tommy, if it’s not cold in my house tomorrow I’m gonna kill you.” You warn, a warm breeze filing through the cracks of the windows.

"Jesus, woman." Tommy says, shaking his head slightly, “Venom.” He stands up and adjusts his jeans, “Every word you spit at me is laced with venom.” 

You laugh gently, gesturing your head towards the front door, "Go work some more." You watch as he walks away, an unexplainable pit in the bottom of your stomach. You avoid the stares coming from the booth again.

People talked a lot in Jackson. Usually it was all rumours, secret words whispered behind a hand as you walked by, it brought a sense of familiarity back, considering they were acting like they were in high school again. 

They noticed things, could see the little things, like how you and Joel were always together, seemingly always just alone. You supposed it gave them a sense of familiarity too, finally being able to talk about something other than the end of the world. 

Sometimes it made you feel good, knowing other people could see Joel was focused on you, watching as he turned down other women just to talk to you. Aside from the odd insult you’d hear every now and then, you weren’t bothered by the rumours. 

On your way home, you decided to stop by Joel’s. The side gate was unlocked, the hinges creaking quietly as it gently banged open and closed. Hot wind. Adding onto the heat. You could hear him before you saw him, the gentle strum of his guitar, a low hum. You round the corner, stopping by the edge of the house to watch him, a smile tugging at your lips. 

He sat in a chair he made himself on his back porch, he’d made you a set also, specialised carving in the wood. He had a leg crossed over the other, his foot jerking to the beat of the song he was playing, you vaguely recognise it being a Pearl Jam song. His hair’s getting longer, you can see the curls at the base of his neck, greying slightly.

You step up the little steps up to the porch, the floorboards under your feet creak, Joel flinches slightly, looking over at you. “Sorry,” You smile, brushing out the fabric of the dress you’d thrown on, “Keep playing.” 

He shakes his head slowly, gently lifting the guitar off his lap and placing it by his side, “No free shows here.” He smiles at you, leaning back in his chair. “So… Cooling ain’t on.” He’s trying to rile you up.

You roll your eyes, moving closer to him. “Don’t remind me.” A gust of warm wind blows past, a shiver of annoyance rushes through your veins. You move to the railing, the wood burns your hands for a second, having been exposed to the naked sun for so long. 

The chair creaks behind you, heavy boots thumped closer until he was standing beside you. You watched as he moved to grab onto the wood, he too flinched back slightly at the contact, you smile. “Ellie…” Joel starts, “Think she’s warming back up to me.”

“That’s good, Joel.” You can hear him breathing, deep and calm. He looks down at you and you look back, “I’m glad.” You add, stepping sideways slightly to bump into his side. You stayed at his house until the sun had set well past the horizon, different constellations appeared back into the clear, dark sky. Only then did you decide to go home, praying to yourself as you walked back that someone had fingers lucky enough to get some cold air working.

You’d always heard about ‘the third time, the lucky charm’, and you’d never given it much thought. But today, you decided you didn’t believe in it, because it was the third day of this mini heat wave, and it was even hotter. 

The sheets were damp beneath you when you woke up. Thin sheets, minimal clothing and the open window had done nothing to help aid the temperature; you were at your breaking point, further being pushed when you discovered the air conditioning had still not been fixed. 

You tried to remain grateful, understood that the people working on it had limited supplies, that they too had to endure the heat, and the pressure to get it done. Feeling bad for your frustration over something they could not control, you made some lemonade for them all, bringing over a jug and some empty cups to where they were stationed. A small good deed to redeem your attitude. 

“Fucking heat.” You mumbled to yourself, wiping your hands on your dress, stepping up to your front porch, reaching for your door. Before you could open it, someone cleared their throat behind you, making you jump. 

Joel laughed, moving up the stairs to meet you, “I scare you?” He looks down at you innocently, waiting for you to answer him, a little curl falls in front of his face. 

“Yes, Joel.” You huff, opening your door aggressively, “You scared me.” You step inside, waiting for him to walk in before closing the door. 

He shrugs off his shoes, leaving them by the entrance, “It’s actually cooler outside.” He points out, moving into your living room. 

“I don’t even want to think about that.” You shake your head, brushing past him to the kitchen, pouring two glasses of water. “Reckon we could sit out the back?”

Joel nods, gratefully taking his glass from your hand, “Lead the way.”

Your porch was small, a perfect size, filled with plants, two chairs and a little rug underneath. Joel went straight for his usual chair, sitting down with a grunt. You vacated the chair next to him, leaning back with your glass nestled in your hands. 

Joel was silent beside you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes zoning out into your small backyard. You followed his gaze, admiring the wooden fence surrounding your home. He and Tommy had built it for you after you’d complained for a week straight about the old rotted wood that once stood there, now you were blessed with privacy you’d once had years ago. You’d never kept your promise to pay them back with some of your cooking, you suddenly remembered.

A flicker of movement catches your eye, a small, grey bunny slips through a crack in the fence. You tut under your breath, shaking your head. Joel’s body moves; he’s laughing. “Don’t even start. It’s barely a crack, I’m not bloody fixin’ it.”

“I didn’t say anything!” You laugh back, but your eyebrows furrow slightly as you take in Joel’s posture. His smiles faded again and he’s back to zoning out. You nudge him gently, “What’s up?”

He suddenly stands up, placing the glass by your feet, it’s only then you noticed he hadn’t had any of it. He goes to your railing, leaning over it. “It’s gettin’ harder. Every day, I’m fightin’ it, and I don’t think I can anymore.” He starts, leaning his head to the right slightly, making sure you could hear every word. He sighs, “Don’t think I want to anymore.” 

You place your own glass down, standing up to join him. “I don’t understand.” You see him hesitate, his body tenses slightly, you can hear his jagged breathing. A warm wind blows past you both, you watch as the trees sway gently in it. 

Joel looks at you then, turning his whole body towards you. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me this isn’t mutual.”

You watch him quietly, almost taken back at his forwardness. “Joel…” 

“No.” He interrupts, taking a step closer, “Tell me this isn’t in my head. I mean, fuck, baby. I love how we are now, but god do I ever wish it was something more.” 

A conversation you’d fought so hard to push to the back of your mind, words you’d dreamt about saying, planning out the best sentences to say that would articulate your feelings best, yet you stand in silence. Something inside you tingles, something deep in your stomach that travels up your body to your head, something goes fuzzy. Then you’re moving to him and closing the space between you, your hands moving to hold the back of his neck as your lips connect to his. It’s sort of an awkward angle, your head tilted back to be able to reach his face, you’re almost on the tips of your toes.

He takes a second to react, his hands awkwardly hovering by your sides as you first press your lips against his. As you moved to pull back having sensed his hesitance, Joel reached out. His hands move to your back, pulling you back to his chest tightly, firmly pressing his lips against yours. You feel him harden against your abdomen and he moans into your mouth with exhilaration, teasing his tongue against yours.

You worry for a second, worry that things were moving too fast. You’d spent years pent up, hiding your deepest feelings and forcing yourself to keep your hands away from him, but with every little movement, every spark sent through your body, your worries slowly started to vanish. As his hands move down your back to fondle your ass, you finally decide you don’t care. 

He squeezes the flesh between his hands, slapping it gently before he pulls away from you, looking pained as he does so. You watch him carefully, waiting for his next move. “Can I taste you?” He asks gently, his hands moving to ball the fabric of your dress. He spoke the words with such softness, such innocence, you faltered, almost uncertain if he meant what you were thinking. His fists tighten further, pleading with you with his eyes.

You take a gamble and nod, you think you’d like whatever he meant anyways; he doesn’t wait another second. He gently moved you backwards, your back pushed up against the railing of your porch, using it as a stabiliser as he moved down to his knees. “Careful.” You mutter, acknowledging the tenderness and soreness he often experienced with his aging body.

He doesn’t respond, instead, he bunches your dress in his hands and shoves it up, exposing your cunt hidden by a slightly damp pair of underwear. You reach down and hold your dress up, clutching it tightly as he brings two fingers up to your clothed clit, rubbing it gently. The sensation tears a moan from your throat, your fingers tightened around the fabric of the dress. As Joel slowly circled your clit, you doubled back and remembered that you were outside, you’d have to try and be quiet. Joel, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care, he probably found it to be a competition. ‘How far can I go without informing the entire neighbourhood I’m fucking my best friend on her porch.’

He finally tugs down your underwear, leaving it hanging by your ankles as he gently spreads your knees further apart. He was taking his time, you noted, savouring every second. You didn’t have any patience for savouring. “Please.” You moan, one of your hands let go of your dress to move to the back of Joel’s neck, pulling him closer in between your legs. “Just do it.” 

You could see him debate with himself for a second, tease her more or give in. He decided to do the latter. He looked as desperate as you felt as he gripped the sides of your thighs, looking up at you once more before he connected his mouth with your clit. He used his tongue in replacement of his fingers, circling your clit as he used the rest of his mouth as a suction. You jolted in place, mouth strung open and eyebrows furrowed together as he worked his way through your body. You could feel every movement his tongue made, the slow pressure of release in your abdomen quickly built its way up, finally forcing another moan from your throat. You tightened your hand around Joel’s hair, tugging the curls at the base of his neck, eliciting a deep groan from him. 

You knew you weren’t gonna last long, not as he moved one of his hands to play with your clit as his mouth moved further down, his tongue pushed into you slightly as he fully engrossed himself in you. His other hand rotated between holding your hip and moving back down to your thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath his palm, the sensation somehow pushing you further into euphoria. You take your hand away from his neck, moving back up to your dress, you let go with your other hand, moving it down the base of your body to where his hand was resting on your hip. 

When he felt you hold onto him, he adjusted your hands so that he was holding yours, fingers gripping you tightly as his mouth moved back up to your clit, his other arm moved around to the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He was moaning gently into your clit, you could feel the vibrations pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your orgasm took you by surprise, arriving so suddenly you could hardly think as your legs began to shake and your fingers gripped so tightly around Joel’s hands, he winced. You don’t know how loud you were being, your senses were all out of whack. The high seemed to last forever, your clit throbbed gently. Your heart was beating out of your chest, the slight tremors in your legs not ceasing even after he’d slowly moved backwards, away from your cunt. 

“Fuck.” He whispered quietly, admiring you once more before he hauled himself up, giving you no time to react as he crashed his lips against yours, pulling you so tightly against his chest you struggled to breathe. “Fuck that was sexy.” He muttered against your lips. Resting his forehead on yours for a moment. Behind you, you could hear a back door open. The sounds of a quiet hum dragged you back to your senses, you’d forgotten to stay quiet. 

“Inside.” You mumble, dropping your dress back down and pulling up your underwear. He closed the door behind you when you walked in, you were still trying to catch your breath. It was hot inside, hotter than it was outside; your hair stuck to the back of your neck. Joel approached you quietly, brushing your hair away from your neck with the back of his hand. He laid a gentle kiss there, when he pulled away you could still feel his lips on your skin. 

You pulled your dress up over your head, leaving it to drop down next to your feet. You stood before him in nothing but your damp underwear. Joel inhaled deeply behind you, his hands hesitantly reaching out to turn you around. His eyes immediately dropped down, taking in every feature, every curve. You could feel every callous on his fingers as he moved his hands down your shoulders and over your breasts, teasing your nipples gently for a moment before moving back up your body, where his hand ghosted the front of your neck.

He tugged at his shirt then, pulling it off his body before moving to his jeans, his fingers fumbling with his belt. You smiled at him softly, brushing his hands aside and helping him out of the material. It was your turn to stare now. You traced your finger along every scar splattered across the length of his body. He watched carefully as you did so, bringing his hand up to your cheek. After what seemed like forever, you retracted your hand back to yourself and started moving backwards towards the couch. Joel followed you wordlessly, not taking his eyes off you. 

When you reached the couch, you gestured for him to sit down. He complied easily, leaning back into the couch, just watching you. You moved to stand between his legs, your nipples hardened further in anticipation. Slowly, you moved down and took your underwear completely off, throwing them somewhere behind you. As you did so, Joel moved to take his off, leaving you both bare and vulnerable. It seemed as if your body was moving on autopilot, everything started to seem so unreal. As you stood before him, his eyes wild and desperate, you found you couldn’t really remember how this had happened so fast. 

Was it just a buildup of hidden emotions? Or had something happened that made him snap? You breathed in deeply, debating with yourself. Telling yourself that you could still back out. Label what happened outside as two lonely people who got desperate. You caught yourself, pushing those thoughts to the back of your head. That’s not what you wanted to do, you couldn’t understand why you were fighting against it so hard. You recognised a glimmer of fear within the thoughts. Fear of opening up to someone, maybe. 

Joel called your name softly. You blinked, focusing back onto him. “Stop thinkin’ so much.” He said, sitting up a little straighter. “If you don’t want this, that’s fine. Don’t freak yourself out ‘bout it.” You furrowed your eyebrows, you did want it. You blinked again, internally scolding your brain for a second before you moved forwards. You straddled his lap, knees resting on either side of his thighs, your hands rested on his chest. He looked at you silently, searching for any sign of discomfort. 

“I do want this.” You whisper, “It’s just new.” Joel nodded slowly, leaning back into the couch. You smile softly, your fingers subconsciously trace patterns on his skin. It was getting harder to ignore the warmth in your lower abdomen, you could feel yourself getting wetter for him, more desperate for him. He was in the same boat, his cock lay firmly against his stomach, the tip of him a deep pink. You reached between your legs, grasping him firmly in your hand. He was big, for a second you hesitated, it had been a while. 

“We’ll take it slow.” Joel grunted, leaning his head back for a moment. You gripped him tighter, slowly moving your hand up and down, causing a deep moan to slip out his mouth. You teased him like that for a little while, watching his reactions curiously. After a few minutes, he leant his head back up to look at you, “Enough.” He practically growled. You smile at him in response, finally lifting your hips up slightly. You both watched as his cock slowly slipped inside you, small moans of pleasure and release sounded out into the room. The initial stretch hurt, you had expected it but it still caused you to completely stop. Joel stayed still until you were ready to keep going. 

After that you didn’t need to stop. Even if you did have to, you weren't sure if you could. You were fully sat on Joel’s lap, his cock nestled deep up inside you, his pubic hair brushed against your clit as you slowly circled your hips. Joel was gripping your hips so tightly, you could already feel them bruising, with every move, a small moan or grunt huffed from his lips. A couple minutes had passed of the slow circling, you had passed the point of desperation. With a slight sigh, you adjusted yourself so you were leaning more of your body weight on your feet before you slowly lifted yourself up the length of his dick, then abruptly sat back down, the sudden movement had Joel moaning loudly, his hands moved to the bottom of your ass to help you bounce up and down continuously. 

You fucked yourself on him hard, your ass connected with his thighs with a satisfying noise, your moans increasingly getting louder. At one point, you leant back slightly, resting your arms on his thighs as you continued to move on top of him. Joel took this opportunity to play with your clit again, his movements precise. You could feel sweat accumulating on your back, the hot environment mixed with this, you didn’t care. Not when Joel moved forwards in what looked like an uncomfortable manner, desperately connecting his lips with your breasts. “Fuck, Joel.” You gasp, feeling his teeth graze against your nipples. 

So caught up in the feeling of Joel inside you, you almost missed the sound coming from behind you. You faltered in your movements to try and listen out for what you’d barely heard over the sound of your own cries, Joel immediately sat up, his hands moved to your waist. “What is it? Are you okay?” You quickly shush him, furrowing your eyebrows. 

Then, a wooshing sound was heard and a cool breeze suddenly followed, flowing over your skin and cooling you instantly. You look at the air conditioner, a new little green light you’d never seen before was on. “Oh.” You say, now completely still in Joel’s lap. You were about to say something, but before you could, you were being manoeuvred around, taking the breath away from you. Joel lay you on your back, still sheathed fully inside you. It seemed that any sense of patience and tenderness had disappeared, instead, a more unforgiving and relentless version of him came out, he fucked into you hard, harder than you could ever expect from such a careful man. 

You threw your head back, wrapping your legs around his hips as he thrust into you, grunting in your ear. One of his hands moved up to palm your breast again, squeezing it roughly before he let go and moved further up your body, resting on your throat. His movements faltered for a moment, his eyes shut close before he resumed the pace. Grunts were replaced with soft moans, almost whimpers as his hips collided with the backs of your thighs. You barely had time to warn him, you managed to let out a strangled moan as you came, your body tightening around him. He came quickly after you did, his body practically collapsing against you as he shot his cum deep inside you, his heavy breath heating your skin. 

After a little while of him on top of you, whispering sweet things into your ear and kissing you gently on your neck, he sat up. You followed, glancing behind you at the air conditioning unit. “Thank fucking god.” You mutter, shaking your head. 

[shitsndgiggs]

Can y write Kenan and YN is dating secretly, and when she goes to an event with him as a plus one a girl tries to flirt with kenan infront of her

SILENT CLAIM - KENAN YILDIZ

A girl tries to flirt with Kenan at an event

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The soft hum of chatter and the occasional clink of glasses filled the air as we stepped into the grand event hall.

Kenan’s hand briefly brushed against mine before he tucked it back into his pocket, a small reminder of the secret we were keeping.

Dating Kenan was like living in a bubble—beautiful and exhilarating but fragile. For now, we were just Kenan and me, no public scrutiny, no flashing cameras dissecting our every move.

That’s why I’d agreed to come as his plus one tonight, to be by his side without really being by his side.

“Stay close,” he murmured, leaning in just enough so only I could hear. His warm breath sent a shiver down my spine, but I kept my expression neutral.

“I always do,” I replied softly, catching the faintest smile tug at his lips before he turned to greet one of his teammates.

The evening was polished and glamorous, and I stayed in the background, sipping champagne and letting Kenan navigate the social scene with his usual charm.

Every now and then, his eyes would find mine across the room, a silent check-in that made my heart flutter.

But it wasn’t long before someone decided to disrupt the harmony.

I was chatting with a few people near the edge of the room when I noticed her—a tall, striking woman who had zero hesitation as she sauntered up to Kenan.

Her hand lightly grazed his arm, and she tilted her head, flashing a smile that was just a little too bright.

My grip on the champagne flute tightened as I watched the scene unfold.

“Kenan, right?” she said, her voice carrying just enough to reach where I stood. “I’ve been meaning to introduce myself. You’re even more impressive in person.”

Kenan’s polite smile didn’t falter, but I noticed the slight shift in his stance, like he was preparing to deflect whatever was coming next. “Thanks,” he said simply.

She stepped closer, ignoring the space that etiquette usually demanded. “I was thinking, maybe we could grab a drink sometime? You could tell me all about your training routine.”

My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to stay calm. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen someone try to get Kenan’s attention, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. The difference was, tonight, I couldn’t step in.

Kenan glanced briefly in my direction, his eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite place—an apology, maybe? Then he cleared his throat. “I appreciate it, but I’m good.”

“Oh, come on,” she pressed, her tone playful but insistent. “Just one drink. I promise I won’t take up too much of your time.”

Before I could think better of it, I stepped forward, my heart pounding. “Actually, he’s busy tonight,” I said, my voice calm but firm.

Both of them turned to look at me. Kenan’s lips parted slightly, caught between surprise and amusement, while the woman raised an eyebrow, clearly sizing me up.

“And you are?” she asked, her tone dripping with condescension.

I gave her my most polite smile. “His plus one.”

Her expression faltered for a split second before she recovered, laughing lightly. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”

Kenan, to his credit, didn’t miss a beat. “Now you do,” he said, his tone carrying just enough edge to make his point.

She muttered something about needing to find her friends before walking away, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Kenan turned to me, his eyes glinting with both gratitude and amusement. “Didn’t know you were coming to my rescue tonight.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You looked like you could use a little help.”

He grinned, stepping closer until the space between us practically disappeared. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

I shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant even as my cheeks warmed. “She was annoying. Someone had to say something.”

Kenan chuckled, his hand brushing against mine again, this time lingering for a moment longer. “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did.”

I glanced around, making sure no one was paying us too much attention. “I’m not used to playing the secret girlfriend,” I admitted.

His smile softened. “I know. But soon, I promise.”

“Soon,” I echoed, though the word felt heavier than I wanted to admit.

Kenan’s eyes searched mine, and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to fade away. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that was just for me.

“For what?”

“For being here. For putting up with all of this.”

I smiled, the tension in my chest easing. “You’re worth it.”

Kenan’s expression shifted, something unspoken passing between us. He nodded slightly, as if to seal a silent agreement.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, his voice low but insistent.

“Don’t you have people to impress?” I teased.

He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “The only person I want to impress is you.”

[24kmar]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

$ Sophisticated, old money, femme fatal $

$ Cherry!Reader who, is old money. But not preppy old money, she's like generational wealth old money. Vintage, sophisticated, old Hollywood type. American wealth.

$ Cherry!Reader who, is American wedding by frank ocean.

$ Cherry!Reader who, writes in fancy fancy cursive.

$ Cherry!Reader who, is very Priscilla presley & diahann caroll coded.

$ Cherry!Reader who, is femme fatale. Seductive without trying, sharp eyes due to her eyeliner.

$ Cherry!Reader who, got her nickname (cherry) for having an obsession with cherries.

$ Cherry!Reader who, smells like Tom ford's lost cherry.

$ Cherry!Reader who, wears silver jewelry and diamonds.

$ Cherry!Reader who, is made of eyeliner, Eyeshadow, and lace.

$ Cherry!Reader who, is a lana del rey lover (what did you expect). BUT she also really likes frank ocean.

$ Cherry!Reader who, in my mind probably got married young, due to her families wealth and connections she probably got married to another child of wealth. But it wasn't arranged, they were inlove.

$ Cherry!Reader who, is the perfect girl. Sweet, calm, gentle, & doesn't cause trouble, who wouldn't get along with her?

$ Cherry!Reader who, loves dobermans. She thinks they are the perfect mix of elegance and danger, but they are also family dogs. (She likes her dogs how she likes her s/o's).

$ Cherry!Reader who's, favorite flowers are blood red roses.

$ Cherry!Reader who, plays piano & has a HUGE book collection.

$ Cherry!Reader who, has a vintage mustang, but wants a Mercedes.

$ Cherry!Reader who, is the biggest lover girl. She'll do anything for her s/o.

$ Cherry!Reader who, loves old movies & old Hollywood as a whole.

$ Cherry!Reader who, is a little minx behind the scenes.

[saizun]

lotus flower   ୭  ׂ  𓈒 ·˚ 🪷

[realgrl]

bunnies and hares from happy kitty bunny pony: a saccharine mouthful of super cute (2005)

[kissedloveletters]

hand holding , multi. ₊˚ ♱

♱ note . aaa hi my loves ! sorry for the lack of inactivity (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞.. i’ve got a few fics in the drafts to make up for it! here is part one.

♱ characters . muichiro , inosuke , zenitsu , genya , tanjiro

♱ warnings . head canons, angst on genya’s part if you squint

muichiro’s hands are tough from the consistencies of training and hard work, didn’t became a hashira in 2-3 months for nothing. but it isn’t sandpaper bad. cuts liter his palms often — also gets some what clammy

his hands are average in size for his age, or even dainty. he has slim fingers with average sized palms.

his nails run a little unkempt and are sometimes cracked, his cuticles are a little roughed up from fighting. also doesn’t care much for nail care but likes it when you take care of it for him, or even tells you to do it — he likes the feeling of your hands on his; the warmth radiating from your hands is pleasurable.

he gets a lot of cuts often, sometimes when he’s reading he gets on purpose to ask you to help him tend them or bandage his wounds, he likes your touch, a lot.

extra. physical touch is actually one of his love languages and quality time, which is why he does these on purpose.

if you scold him he would have puppy eyes and say it won’t happen again ( it will ).

^ but is happy you care for his wellbeing!!

defiantly plays and / or massages with your fingers. traces the wrinkles on your hands, oh and also kisses your fingers one by one so very gently and lovingly, like if he pushed down too hard you’ll shatter like glass

his fingers are cold but not uncomfortably so it’s comforting to feel on a warm day

swings your hands when your holding hands

his grip is soft and he likes intertwining your hands, he gets this stupid little smile and can’t stop staring at both your hands intertwined

he doesn’t care who stares or comments he loves holding your hands so it happens often, if he can’t for some reason he’ll hold your inner arm or a piece of your clothing ( most likely your hoari / back of your shirt )

genyas’s hands are on the rough side, but his touch is still just as gentle despite the textured skin. because of him eating demon flesh gives the after effects of his skin being more thick and hard.

especially his fingers from using a gun instead of a kitana

his hands are above average with wide fingers, most likely from him eating demon flesh. but nevertheless his hands temperature can go from warm and cold, it mostly runs on cold though.

he has a few cuts littering his fingers but they disappear as much as they appear.

when he ‘becomes’ a demon his nails grow more than his average and more sharper, has a hue of yellow and black — naturally, his nails are sorta uneven and short.

he likes it when you offer to cut his nails and take care of it for him, it saves him trouble but feels bad he’s letting you take care of it and not him, so he tries to help the best he cans.

his hands are clammy when you hold hands cause of how flustered and nervous he is, but you don’t comment or mind it.

his grip is loose, but tender. it firms up at times—like while in a crowd so he won’t lose you or in vulnerable moments

sanemi used to hold his hands when younger and those memories come around his minds when he spaces out while holding your hand, it usually causes his grip to firm up and if you comment how hard he’s squeezing your hand he’ll apologize and stop

he’s flustered and embarrassed holding your hand in public but is proud of himself if he initiated it first. generally way more affectionate in private but still gets red

extra . you two could be watching fireworks at a festival and then he goes in and holds your hand while your looking at the fireworks aaa

so by that, holding hands with him is somewhat rare, unless if your overly affectionate then it would be way more, he doesn’t mind it or anything he’s just shy doing pda — you could just hug him and he’s tomato red.

tanjiro’s hands are pretty rough for the high amounts of training and combats he’s endured especially after the hashiras’ training, but nothing like sand paper bad like inosuke’s. there’s a few cuts littering his fingers but it isn’t major

his hands are above average with slightly slim fingers.

his hands run on the slightly above average size, his hands run warm; good for the winter!

his nails are taken care of, not as much as it was before. trims his nails short from time to time since they grow a bit long since he neglects nail care often.

but offers to do yours! if you aren’t good at taking care of yourself cause of your living circumstances as a demon slayer then he’s happy to do it for you even if you can for yourself — he’s happy to help you.

likes it when you do it for him also, the touch of your hand will always be a enjoyment for him!!

tanjiro’s grip is tender yet firm, you’re one of his reason to live and fight for and would do anything to protect you at all costs. he squeezes your hands especially if either of you came back from a mission.

hand holding with him is regular, if you are a demon slayer then he holds your hand while walking to or back from your missions. he also holds your hands for comfort, expect in serious situations.

inosuke’s hands are rough, he grew up on the mountains so his hands are somewhat close to sandpaper texture, though his hands get clammy. he has scars and cuts on his hands—one or two bruises—cuts regularly pop up.

his hands are above average with big palms and thick fingers, it’s regular for his hands to have dirt on them

his nails and cuticles aren’t the greatest compared to when you took care of them for him, he does a lot of training so his hands’ appearances take the brute of it.

more times than none he’ll accept your help on keeping them trim and dirt free, but he doesn’t really try much to help since it feels a tad pointless to him, but he likes your hands on his.

while training he’s prone to a lot of nail crack/breaking and half the time it slips his mind unless it scratches his skin or something. in which he stops training to search for you to help him clean it.

extra . the same actually goes to muichiro and genya ^ lmao

inosuke’s grip is all over the place, his hold is clammy and there’s always dirt involved to an extent. he’s not really sure how to do the whole hand holding without squeezing too hard and breaking your hand or holding it too loose he loses your hand

he gets jealous if you hold someone else’s hand for helping them and will turn it into a competition for the other person of who held your hand the most, and the person is like : ????

you can scold him but it doesn’t sound very scary coming from you, but it makes him feel fuzzy when you express you care for him.

extra . probably ruins the pure moment by saying lord inosuke can handle anything and then you go along saying that you forgot he’s the the king of the mountain and that he can endure anything LMAO

holding hands with inosuke he’s secretly touch starved so he’ll sometimes take to holding other parts of you if your hands are busy or he really tends to silently hug you

zenitsu’s hands are average in size, they run stupidly warm and occasionally clammy when he’s flustered.

his cuticles and nails are unbothered, surprisingly his nails are cut since he takes care of himself often.

LOVES it when you take care of his nails and you both talk about everything and nothing, or just a silence is so nice with your hands on his — and defiantly looks at you with a awe expression

holding hands with zenitsu is common. he’s lovesick and touch starved, especially for comfort or reassurance when he’s scared.

when you first held his hand was probably for reassurance, his hands was clammy during the time since he was flustered by your action — and scared of the demons — but it was nothing you minded

another one who would swing your hands ^^

saying he will protect you while holding your hand tightly and eyes moist, threatening to almost sob from fear.

extra . he probably feels ashamed because all he did was cry and then you reassure him it’s alright since it’s literally flesh eating demons and you both were about to piss your pants

defiantly sees couples comparing hand sizes and intertwining their hands slowly, then has a thought of wanting to do it with you. ( you both did )

his grip is firm and soft, he knows how to hold a woman’s hand and treats you delicately, though what i said before he does hold your hand too tight, apologizes if he thinks it’s too tight but sometimes doesn’t notice because of the fear he’s accumulating

[istarium]

🐚 . ᭢𓆝˚｡𖦹 𓆟

[sileutas]

ʕ•͓͡🍈 ✿ ॱ ִ🍮 ☦︎ ⬮

[starovis]

credit ི᭨ᩧྀ ᡴ🦢ꪫ   ꣑୧ୁ 소녀🩰.

♡̶ ႋ ࣭🎐. 𓆝𓈒 𓇼ㅤׂ ༊࿐

[bratdotcom]

LEON KENNEDY'S DUMB FLIP PHONE

( Older!Leon Kennedy x GN!reader || no specific Leon specified but definitely older than re2/re4 era !! Him n' his stupid flip phone ♡ )

“You need glasses.” You comment over his shoulder, watching as Leon’s eyes narrow to the point where they're squinting, his tired blues stay trained on his phone, quickly thumbing the keypad to switch between letters as he typed. “No I don't, they make me look old.” He says back, angling the screen of his flip phone, pure concentration on his face as he speaks. You smile a bit as you watch him, the bridge of his nose peeking through his bangs. “You need contacts then,” you correct, leaning a bit closer to see what he's doing. 

“Don't look. And I don't  need contacts either.” Leon shields the screen of his phone away from you, keeping it close to his chest. “Why?” Despite his words, you lean closer to see what he is typing. You can't see much, besides the bluish glare of his screen.

At least he wasn't using that damn Nokia anymore. You could barely even see the screen on that thing. It was as large as his palm, seeing him pad the numbers on that thing to call Chris was its own form of entertainment. An extreme sport, even. How the hell did his fingers not cramp up from texting you during his missions?

“You can't look yet.” Leon says with a giddiness in his tone, a somewhat rare thing to see especially after coming home from a long, tiring day at work. The apples of his cheeks perk up as he smiles to himself, using the keypad on his phone to scroll through…something. You still didn't know what the hell he was talking about. 

You see the giddy look on his face, the way his blues shone like he was finding something for the first time. Leon's had his phone as long as you could remember giving it to him. Which left you with more questions than answers. Your weight shifts as you rest your back against the couch cushions, arms folded against your chest as you wait. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

Until finally Leon shows you what he was trying to hide from you for so long. A long list of kaomojis. The blond seemed proud of himself, showing off the brightening bluish glare of his screen with a big, proud smile on his face. “What do you think?” He asks with the same giddiness in his tone from earlier. Your eyes scan over the various emoticons, cats, dogs, even bunnies. You subconsciously smile to yourself, having no idea that his phone even had the capabilities to do something as cute as this. “It’s cute, Leon.” you say, smiling a bit more as he scrolls through a roulette of kaomojis, some of them starred. Who knew, the Leon Scott Kennedy loved using silly little cats and smiley faces in his texts. What a man. Your man. 

 “Bet your phone can’t do this.” he teases, waving his phone screen in front of you. As if having a flip phone in the age of touch screens was some sort of flex. Even though there were countless apps that could do what his phone could, none of them could compare to the smile on the blond’s face as he showed you his little catalog of silly emoticons. You let the man have his fun, nodding along as you lean in to kiss his cheek. “Yeah, it can’t.” you say in reply.

[lachatalovematcha]

[notaorbital]

Livin' On A Prayer

[shitsndgiggs]

Okay but imagine kenan being your stalker 👀👀👀👀👀

WATCHING, WANTING, WAITING - KENAN YILDIZ

Kenan stalking you

Stalker! Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I don’t remember when it started—this obsession, this ache that never went away. It wasn’t intentional at first.

She moved into the apartment across the street, her window perfectly in view of mine. At night, her light would spill out onto the dark pavement, soft and golden, pulling me in.

She was captivating without trying. The way she would stand by her window, brushing her hair or cradling a cup of tea, her lips occasionally curving into a faint smile at some unseen thought.

I told myself it was harmless, just watching. But watching turned into needing, and needing became something darker.

Now, my days revolve around her.

She has no idea. No idea that every laugh she shares, every gentle word she speaks, feels like a knife and a balm at the same time.

It tears me apart that others get to hear her laugh up close, see her eyes crinkle when she’s amused. It should be me.

Not the guys at the café who don’t even realize how lucky they are to be in her orbit. Not the men at work who steal glances when she walks by. They don’t deserve her.

I do.

Every morning, she takes the same route to work, her earbuds tucked in, a coffee in hand. I follow just far enough to stay unnoticed, but close enough to drink in every detail.

Her walk, her small, unconscious movements—the way she adjusts the strap of her bag or pushes her hair out of her face when the wind catches it.

God, she’s beautiful. Too beautiful.

I imagine her beneath me, her soft lips parting under mine. Her skin would feel like silk beneath my fingertips, her body warm and perfect against mine.

I’ve dreamed of kissing every inch of her, of tracing my hands along her curves, worshipping her the way she deserves. The world doesn’t understand her perfection, but I do.

In my mind, I see her laid out before me, her head tilted back, her neck exposed, inviting. Her breath hitching as I place soft, reverent kisses along her skin.

I’d move slowly, savoring her the way she deserves to be savored, tasting the sweetness of her lips, feeling her melt under my touch. But she doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know how much I want to fall to my knees before her, how much I crave her in every way. Not just her body, but her essence—her laugh, her thoughts, her soul.

She doesn’t know how I watch her lips when she speaks, imagining how they’d feel pressed against mine, how her voice would sound saying my name in a moment of surrender.

And yet, she spends her days with people who don’t see her the way I do. People who don’t notice how she tugs at her sleeves when she’s cold, or how her eyes soften when she stops at the flower shop to admire the roses.

It drives me mad.

There are nights when I stand outside her building, my heart pounding as I imagine being inside with her.

I’d sit close, close enough to feel her warmth, to brush my lips against hers as she gasps softly in surprise. I’d kiss her until she was breathless, until there was no space between us, no hesitation.

But for now, I wait.

She’s unaware of how much she means to me, how deeply I love her. But one day, she’ll see. One day, I’ll show her how she’s meant to be loved—completely, endlessly, with every fiber of my being.

And when that day comes, she’ll know. She’ll understand that I was always meant to be hers.