#your art doesn’t have to be good to be worth something
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Great God Grove spoilers/character discussion ahead!
And some spoiler-y doodles
About Hector because of course it’s about him.
His entire arc is just so melancholic and tragic,
If I may, I’ve been taking a sort of deeper look into his mental goop so-to-speak, and I feel like his jealousy/anger surrounding King can be read in a lot of different contexts. It almost seems like it didn’t stop at simply King being the hot new thing and him being nervous he’d lose his place, but more so the idea that King didn’t have to change all that much about herself to be as deified as she seems. From what we know she’s very confident with herself, her God form even being pretty faithful to how she looks as a human(mentioned in the art book which you should totally go buy, it’s so lovely seeing all the concept art and the commentary is such a treat :]).
Meanwhile it’s kind of implied that Hector really had to claw his way up the spire, working tirelessly to help people, yes, but also to earn his place amongst the gods. He’s stressed out of his mind, he’s always working- I really can’t imagine he was all that stable to begin with in terms of self-identity/worth.
Plus, most if not all his relationships seem to be tied to this one purpose. I can’t imagine the thought of “if I fail I won’t have anything or anybody to go back to.” hasn’t crossed his mind AT LEAST once.
I reblogged a post showing screenshots of Robart and Peeps talking about how, as a human, he tended to act concerningly selflessly, almost seeming desperate. That really doesn’t come across as a normal reaction to just wanting to do good by people, at least not in a ‘normal’ capacity.
Hector, to me at least, comes across as a very self-critical guy. He’s always striving to do good by others… but also to be praised and adored by them. I can only imagine after so many years of toiling away, feeling that pressure building more and more to do well, spending years of his life hoping that he’ll be voted in that he’s sort of lost a piece of himself to this whole process? Something something ship of Theseus.
There’s this thing that happens when a project consumes your life, when it almost seems like your entire life’s purpose is built around this one thing that, once it’s done, it really doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything. What’s left is this sort of numb emptiness, the absence of said purpose.
What are you supposed to do, then? Now that it’s over? Is there anything left for you to do?
Did you even have a purpose in the first place?
So you desperately grasp for new projects, trying to find anything to fill that ever present void that just seems to never go away no matter how many sleepless nights you spend working and working and working-
Or maybe I’m reading too deep into it teehee
Point is, Hector is just so important he is my reason to wake up in the morning he means so much to me asjfkkfksfc ;;;;;
#great god grove spoilers#great god grove hector#character study#he’s just so oughh#I need to know more????#also seeing stress related injuries represented subtly in a character means a lot#ggg spoilers#ggg hector#i need a Hector stress ball or something#he just needs a hug and a good cry and some therapy#I can fix him#also some Hector doodles I’ve been churning out the past couple days#I swear the body pillow is still being worked on but inspekta is kicking my ass
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evolution of my misfits patches
#the first one was a struggle#ill give myself credit tho its a hard logo to get right#so easy to screw up and have it look weird and/or stupid#id like to think ive improved?#all of these are freehand#also i like to show my progress#especially for beginners please don’t be embarrassed if your diy starts out looking like shit!#we all start somewhere and making bad art is punk rock as fuck#i just show these to say you will probably improve#and if you don’t that’s okay too#your art doesn’t have to be good to be worth something#punk#punk patches#diy#patches#punk diy#patch inspo#misfits
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And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.
#ringmaster doodles#sona art#( they’re very much the theme of. love in the face of the neverending march of time. )#( being immortal and knowing you will outlive the man you love because someone else deemed he unworthy of eternal life. )#( he may still have tens of thousands of years left. sure. but you know that those will go by and he’ll disappear in the blink of an eye. )#( and you’ll sit there on his death bed. wondering why did things end up like this? )#( wondering what you did wrong. and if you could have done something different. you’ll always ask yourself. )#( if he lives a life of happiness and comfort or did he live a life as gruesome and miserable as the wars on earth? but you won’t know. )#( and the more you think about it. the more you realize it. how nihilistic he was. and how he never seemed to smile even in the good times.#he always seemed to have a frown or a scowl on his face. he always seems bothered and unhappy. )#( so you wonder if it was something you did. because you know you aren’t perfect. you’re hardly good. )#( you wonder if he’s mad at you. maybe he was. but he doesn’t have the heart to stay mad. )#( and that’s love in the face of adversity. knowing that no matter how bad it gets. he loves you as you love him. )#( and you wonder why he never smiles. because he truly never does. and so you ask him. honest and true. )#( and he tells you there isn’t anything worth smiling for. nothing in this whole world. )#( but he smiles at you. it’s always small. and it’s always brief. )#( but that smile. that smile means love. )#( that hug. as flimsy as it may be. that hug means love. )#( of course. he isn’t affectionate. if anything. he detests it. he hates physical contact of any kind. you’ve noticed. )#( which is a shame. you love your hugs and your kisses and your hand holding. )#( but even if he doesn’t like it. he lets you do it. because it makes you happy. )#( and you learn that when you’re happy. he’s a little less miserable. )#( of course. not all love is equal. and not all love is fair. )#( the love from a lover and the love from the father can never equate to one another. )#( no one will love you in the same way a father or mother loves you. in the same manner. no one will ever love you the way I do. )#( because my love will remain with you. long after I disappear. )#( and as bitter as the idea of my own existence coming to an end is. knowing I did all of this for. essentially nothing. )#( that I’ve gone through all this pain and suffering and hardship just for it to all amount to nothing. for it to be fucking useless to try.#I get to die knowing that you’ll always love and be loved. and that’s enough for me… )#( … maybe there is something worth smiling for after all. )
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by popular demand and since i hit 1k! here’s a part 2 💞 find part one here! art by @ _3aem on twt!!
bestfriend!satoru who always takes you on late night drives if you’re feeling upset. he’ll buy you something sweet and when he drops you back home he’ll always leave you with a little kiss. he doesn’t want his favourite girl being sad.
bestfriend!satoru who absolutely adores the way you smell. everytime he’s near you in class he places his hands out for some of your hand cream and he sits there sniffing his hands afterwards.
bestfriend!satoru who will always suggest a horror movie when it’s movie night with your friends. he knows it’s only a matter of time before you’re freaking out and you’ll climb into his lap. ‘sshhh you’re okay baby i’ve got you’ and while you’re distracted his hands will find their way under your top and start stroking your back and tummy.
bestfriend!satoru who insists on massaging your back when you come round. ‘take your top off baby it’s just me’. he’s working on getting you to take off the bra too, all in good time.
bestfriend!satoru who is so used to you wearing long sleeved and baggy hoodies that the random times you wear something that clings to your figure he all but passes out. suddenly his hands are all over you and to everyone else in the room you probably look like a couple. (just how he intended)
bestfriend!satoru who insists kissing your best friend on the lips is normal. it’s cute. ‘come on baby another one. i’m your best friend’. is using tongue normal? he doesn’t care.
bestfriend!satoru who wears compression shirts around you all the time because he overheard you talking about how much you like guys with big biceps. he doesn’t want to sound big headed but he’s caught you staring a few times now.
bestfriend!satoru who goes through your underwear drawer when you’re not present. he wanted to know your cup size but the pink and the lace got him distracted.
bestfriend!satoru who really is such a perv when it comes to you. he can’t help it you’re like a drug. sometimes he knocks his pen off the table because he knows your sweet self will quicky bend over to retrieve it for him. he’s left with the adorable sight of your panty clad ass, white ones today just how he likes. ‘thank you baby.’ ‘you’re welcome toru.’ god you’re just so cute.
bestfriend!satoru who helps you dye your hair. he doesn’t care that he’s leaving with splotches of black on his arms and hands. it’s worth it when you give him those big hugs with your arms wrapped around his neck.
bestfriend!satoru who is in love with your handwriting. ‘course a pretty girl has pretty handwriting’ it’s all cursive and slanted, he even makes jokes about you writing something for him to get tatted.
bestfriend!satoru who knows you love to cuddle. he was never much of a cuddler himself but he would have to be sick to pass up on the chance to hold you. ‘no of course i dont mind pretty.’ your head lays on his chest and one of your thighs covers his stomach. he could die like this and he would die happy. (preferably he would die in between your thighs but)
bestfriend!satoru who gets upset when you’re laughing a bit too loud when talking to suguru. he knew for a fact suguru was not that fucking funny.
bestfriend!satoru who absolutely abuses pet names when it comes to you. His baby His pretty girl His dolly
bestfriend!satoru who’s always patting your bum. for what reason who knows.
part 3 !! part 4 !!
taglist : @haruhatake @moncher-ire @startwithrecords @ranatherealestsigma @chjinua @whozeurdaddy @sukuxna0 @purp1eha1o
#jjk#jjk x you#gojo satoru#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen toji#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#gojo smut#satoru gojo#jjk headcanons#gojo headcanons#jjk satoru#satoru x you#satoru smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#satosugu#geto x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#tojbnuy#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu satoru#jjk fic rec#jujustsu kaisen x reader
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The Fool
Summary: As you lie, nestled into Astarion’s chest, he considers his feelings - his damned, complicated feelings.
Alternatively, Astarion experiences all 5 stages of grief in 10 minutes.
Rating: T Word Count: 816 Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Content: First person Astarion POV, fluff and angst, rather a lot of angst actually, feelings denial, Astarion needs a hug, cuddling, Astarion's simple plan beginning to fall apart.
Want to hear this fic read aloud with absolutely pristine acting by the incredibly talented CurlyChops on AO3? Have a listen here!
A/N: You know when you’re lying in bed, unable to sleep until you write down that idea that’s managed to worm its way into your brain at unspeakable hours of the night? Here we have a slightly angsty drabble that decided to do just that! After the reception to the Gale first person POV, I wanted to try my hand at an Astarion POV. Hopefully you enjoy!
A fool lies in this tent.
Look at you, nestled into my side, sleeping peacefully against my chest as if a vampire’s embrace is the safest place in all the realms. Utterly ridiculous. So trusting, so… pliant. All according to plan, really. I set the trap - a few choice words here, a few lingering touches there - and you walked right into it. Just like I knew you would.
Just like all the others do.
Well, not quite like all the others. You actually believe there's something redeemable in me, don't you? How deliciously naïve.
Do you even realise what you've fallen for? What I am? A monster, a liar, a parasite. Oh, my dear, the fool you are.
Though I suppose your particular brand of foolishness has its… uses. Your blind faith in my redemption is almost charming.
No. Not charming. It’s pathetic. Pathetically predictable. It can’t be charming. Because, if it is, I’m no better than the fool I mock.
You shift slightly in your sleep, and I resist the urge to recoil. This charade - this playing at romance, at desire - it shouldn’t affect me so. I’m above this. I’ve spent centuries perfecting the art of manipulation, of taking what I need. It was supposed to be easy: charm you, bed you, and secure my safety. A means to an end. But as I lay here, with your warmth pressed against me, my chest begins to tighten. Not in fear or hunger, but in something… complicated.
Anger begins to burn at the back of my throat. Good. Anger is familiar. It’s safer, easier to control.
This is your fault, you know. No, worse - it’s mine. My fault that I have been reduced to this - a creature desperate enough to sell the only scraps of autonomy I have left. You think this closeness is love, don’t you? But it’s not. It’s survival. It has always been survival.
But then again…
You’re not like the others at all, are you? Those who took without asking, without care. Your touch is… gentle. Always so damnably gentle. You’ve never grabbed, never demanded, never treated me like a thing to be used. With you, it hasn’t all been… bad. No, that’s not right - it’s been tolerable. Almost pleasant at times, really. Your touch doesn’t make my skin crawl; your voice doesn’t grate on my nerves. I tell myself it’s because you’re useful. That’s all this is.
That’s all it can ever be.
If I were to tell you the truth, what would you do? If I were to push you away, would you stay? If I were to let you in, would you hurt me? These questions gnaw at me, demanding answers I don't have.
Answers I don't want.
Even now, as you sleep, your fingers rest light as feathers on my chest. It’s maddening. Infuriating. How dare you? How dare you make this difficult? This was supposed to be simple. You were supposed to be simple.
I could kill you right now, you know. One quick movement, and all these feelings would disappear with you. Never again would you look at me like I'm something precious, something worth saving, like I’m–
“... Astarion,” you mumble drearily in your sleep.
Hells.
I should leave. I should push you away, remind you that I am not something to hold on to.
But I don’t move.
Instead, I stay. Because the truth, the awful, unbearable truth, is that I don’t want to lose this. The selfish man I am.
A sigh escapes me.
It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted.
Gods, what an absolute mess you’ve made of my carefully laid plans. I find myself watching you sleep, counting your breaths, fighting the urge to brush that strand of hair from your face.
When did this happen? When did I start to care whether you lived or died beyond your usefulness to me?
I hate this. I hate that you’ve made me feel anything at all, but more than that, I hate myself for not hating it more. The way you defend me, the way you’ve never once looked at me with disgust or fear… it’s terrifying.
You’re terrifying.
Yet I can't bear to give it away.
Your fingers curl into my shirt in your sleep, and I find myself pulling you closer despite every screaming instinct to push you away. Protecting you, as if I have any right to do so. As if I deserve the way you lean into my touch, trust in my words, believe in my capacity for - dare I say it - goodness. As if I deserve any of this.
The moonlight filtering through the tent catches on your sleeping face, and something inside me breaks. Or perhaps it's finally mending. I'm not sure I know the difference anymore.
A bitter laugh escapes my lips, so soft I’m certain it won’t wake you. How poetic. How utterly absurd.
You, the fool, who dared to fall for me.
And I, the greater fool for letting you.
Masterlist can be found here!
No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat, @davenswitcher, @silverfangmarks, @sparrowbard, @chonkercatto, @stokzr , @trafalgarussy , @asterordinary , @bite-me-tonight , @transparentkittenheart , @bg3-fanfic-reblogs
#we're in real sad boy hours lads#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x gn!reader#astarion fanfiction#astarion ancunin#astarion fluff#bg3#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#astarion fanfic
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𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗕𝗦𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔𝗕𝗕𝗬'𝗦 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗦 𝗛𝗖'𝗦┊𝗔. 𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡
ఌ︎. p. abby anderson x f!reader // g. fluff + smut
ఌ︎. cw. NSFW (MDNI. i will block you); Abby uses a strap on reader; choking; mentions of bruises; pussy eating, tribbing/scissoring; cute shit — let me know if i missed anything!
ఌ︎. wc. 0.9k
𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧
✉ i can just imagine being completely obsessed with abby’s hands. holding them, massaging her fingers, softly running the tips of your fingers over the calluses she’s developed from weight lifting, kissing the pads of her fingers, and cracking her knuckles.
✉ i can also see abby being the type to get matching nail art with you. i don’t care if you are an xxl acrylic wearer or you get simple gel manicures, abby would definitely get something to match.
✉ playing with the rings on abby’s fingers. whether, it’s because you're anxious or just need something to fidget with, she won’t mind because even the simplest touch from you is always welcomed. stealing abby’s rings even though her fingers may be bigger than yours so they don’t fit. “i bought you this,” she runs the pad of her thumb over the lab-grown pandora promise ring she got you for your birthday, “and you’re still stealing mine,” she shook her head with a light laugh.
✉ when you’re taking a nap while abby is studying or working and subconsciously reach out for her hand. yeah, typing with one hand is a little more difficult, but she totally thinks it’s worth it.
✉ abby sweetly caressing your face when you kiss. it doesn’t matter if it’s a short kiss before the two of you part or a hungry kiss full of pants and sexual tension, abby’s hands always find their way to your face.
✉ having an oral fixation when it comes to this woman’s hands is a given, methinks. playfully biting her hands, nipping at her fingertips when she feeds you something. licking the pad of her finger when she wipes sauce from the corner of your mouth. it started off as a joke. she had wiped some pasta sauce from the corner of your mouth and pressed her thumb against your lips encouraging you to lick the red substance off her finger. things escalated rather quickly after that.
✉ abby pushing her thumb past the swell of your plump lips, making sure to press down on your tongue. sticking her fingers that are slick with your wetness down your throat until you gag and tears begin to well in your eyes.
✉ your back to her chest, her legs holding yours wide open. one of her veiny hands holding your lips open as the other one alternates between your sopping hole and rubbing your clit. making you cum over and over again as you maintain eye contact. once you’re thoroughly fucked, she’s taked her pruned middle and ring fingers and make you lick up the mess you made all over her hands.
✉ abby forcing your mouth open, pointer and middle finger on either side of your tongue; the mixture of her spit and your cum rolls off the tip of her tongue onto yours.
✉ i like to think abby, wears her strap + harness when the two of you go out to tease the hell out of you. she’d make you sit on her lap and grind her hips into your ass making you warm with arousal. she’d pull you away at a function because she can’t go another second without touching you. her calluses feel so good on your face when she covers your mouth and she strokes the silicone piece in and out of your tight, wet cunt. “can’t have everyone hearing how pretty my girl sounds, now can i?” she whispered in your ear as she bent you even further over the vanity in the bathroom she pulled you into.
✉ OH. EM. GEE. abby wrapping your hair around her fist tightly as she pounds into you >>>>. maybe she hasn't been able to pull your hair the way you like because your scalp is sensitive from getting your hair done, so when the tension loosens she goes ham.
✉ abby’s hands around your throat. whether you’re in missionary holding the most sensual eye contact or she’s fucking your from behind like a whore, the blonde’s hands always find their way around your throat. “all you have to do is cum on my cock, princess and i’ll let you breathe.”
✉ abby holding your hands. holding them above your head, both wrists trapped in the clutch of her strong hand. lacing your fingers together as she grinds her soaked cunt on yours.
✉ the tips of her fingers leaving bruises on your hips and thighs. even if they don’t visibly bruise, you can still feel the imprint under your skin buried in the muscle from where she held onto you tightly.
✉ abby’s hand finding the back of your head as she stands over you, pushing your face into her wetness. the metal of her rings digging into your scalp as she grinds her pussy onto your awaiting tongue. her sweet caresses as she swipes the cum from your face and licks it off, tasting herself. “you always look so pretty when you let me use your mouth,”
✉ when abby’s on top, grinding her pussy against yours and finally reaches her climax. she’d continue moving her hips, despite the overstimulation to make sure she doesn’t waste a drop, she’d take her fingers and fuck her release into you until you cum one last time.
✉ abby who will dive between your legs, licking at your mixed essence. she’ll take her index and middle fingers and pry your mouth open, resting the two fingers on either side of your tongue. her saliva mixed with your shared juices would land on your tongue and like the good girl you are, you swallow happily, making the corners of her pink lips lift into that smile you adore.
a/n: ... heeeey y'all 😅 i know i've been inactive, but blame school and work #NAWT me!! although i haven't been uploading, i have been jotting down all of my ideas so, just know i have some stuff in my drafts. kk luv y'all, SMOOCHIES!!
#⌁₊˚⊹ mywriting ⊹˚₊⌁#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x black!reader#abby anderson x black!fem!reader#abby anderson x fem!reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson smut#x black!reader#x black!fem!reader#x black reader#x black fem reader#the last of us part 2#tlou2
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the greatest gamble of all
pairing. aventurine x gn! nameless! reader
synopsis. aventurine knows that he is unworthy of love, unworthy of you. because he, aventurine, is a tainted person and kakavasha is but a person with no future for himself. in both of his names, he is unworthy of you.
genres/aus. actually idek what type of au this would fall under saurrr idk what to say ummm friends to something more (?!), romance, pining, angst with a happy ending, smidge of fluff at the end
warnings. slight (or maybe not so slight at all?) spoilers about aventurine's background, mentions of death and murder, very sad and insecure aventurine, crying, slight displays of affection (a neck kiss?!), ooc aventurine ?! (bc im still doing the penacony quest HAHSHAJ)
wc. 1.6k
a/n. me when i only write about aventurine because aventurine is love, aventurine is life. also, i just have some serious brainrot for that man he deserves everything and more i love him sm !!!! also. aventurine this wednesday im SOOOO excited i need him NOW. will be skipping my first class so i can do his trial LMFAO and this NAWT edited !! (when will i ever edit something?? idk. whenever i am not a busy uni kid) the aventurine art was made by @/20231102thu on x (twitter) !!
AVENTURINE IS FULLY AWARE THAT HE ISN'T SOMEONE DESERVING OF, well, anything. he’s just someone that aimlessly wanders this world, not having a set destination. he doesn’t have anything worth living for. he doesn’t have a home to return to because home means returning to a place filled with warmth and love.
he does not remember the last time he felt his heart warm up, he’s not even sure if he’s even felt warmth. it is but a distant memory filled with sadness, such sorrow that makes his heart weep without knowing it. though, nowadays, he doesn’t feel like that. there’s just an emptiness in him, but he doesn’t mind it anymore. after the events at penacony, he’s just been… lost.
he hears a door open and slide shut, followed by the sound of footsteps. then, he senses someone standing right next to him as he gazes out the windows of the astral express. you spent a long time convincing the conductor and himeko that aventurine should be a guest, and you finally wore them out with your pleading after a good amount of hours.
“penny for your thoughts?”
aventurine glances at you. your wounds from the battle are still healing, he notes, given by the bandages that wrap around your forearm and head. sunday will have to meet his fury on another day. “just thinking that this is a nice place.”
you chuckle, “it is, isn’t it?”
all he does is hum in response, still staring out in the vast expanse of space. he likes how the stars look and as his eyes linger on penacony, he wonders if his home looked similar to that. he wouldn't know because he never saw how it looked when he left and never will. his thoughts don’t linger on that much when he instead focuses on the way your fingers brush against his hand. he flinches and stares wide-eyed at how you easily grab onto his hand, a dirty piece of flesh undeserving of the warmth that radiates from your skin and seeps into his own.
“aventurine—”
“kakavasha.”
“hm?” you tilt your head to the side, blinking at him in confusion.
he wants to look away from you, from your eyes. but he wills himself to keep looking and somehow, he ends up gripping onto your hand tightly. you don't complain and instead squeeze back, patiently waiting for him to continue.
“my name is… kakavasha.” aventurine feels his stomach twist and turn at your silence so he continues to speak, “i just thought… that you should know it before it’s completely gone.”
“and why do you say that?”
“it’s a name meant to be forgotten in the sand.”
your response is so quick that it almost gives him whiplash. “no it isn't.”
“excuse me?” he blurts out, surprised that you even said such a thing about him.
“it isn't a name meant to be forgotten in the sand,” you say, a certain calmness in your voice that has aventurine waiting with bated breath at what else you have to say. “it's too pretty to be forgotten and, well, it's your name.”
and then he feels his face heat up; his ears, neck and cheeks feel like they’re burning up.
“kakavasha,” you hum, smiling, “kava, for short. it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”
it does have a nice ring to it, but only because you're the one saying it. aventurine merely nods, not trusting his voice at the moment. he looks away and stares outside the window, not wanting to look at you anymore because he fears this warm feeling will take over his entire being.
a nice silence blankets over the two of you, one that you break after a while.
“what’s the story behind your name right now? aventurine… why are you called that now?”
“because kakavasha had no future,” he replies, “kakavasha didn’t have a future, he didn’t deserve to live either. who i am now, aventurine, does.”
“kakavasha deserves to live too.” aventurine turns his body to look at you, blinking in surprise. “i don’t know how you got that thought in your head, but kakavasha deserves to live just as much as the person you are now.”
“but aventurine is tainted. this name has too much blood on it, too many sins on it. the person i am now doesn’t deserve to live either. kakavasha should be a name buried in the sands of time while aventurine should be burnt to a crisp for the things i’ve done.”
yes, he is tainted. his body, his everything is tainted. it is marred by an ugly color, a stain of who he was and is, never to be cleaned. aventurine lets go of your hands, worried that you might also get stained by his sins. he should drive you away now before the aching in his small heart decides to cling to you and the warmth you give him. he will tell you his story, tell you about the mark on his neck, tell you how he killed the man that bought him, tell you about how he is a tainted person. he is a tainted person unworthy of you, unworthy of that love you hold.
he may have never experienced love. after all, all of his past relationships were purely physical. no one cared about going deeper beyond his facade, they all just wanted a fun night. so while he has never experienced it, he is no fool. he can recognize that the emotion in your pretty eyes when you look at him is love. you love aventurine, the him who has betrayed and used you and your companions in one way or another on penacony. he doesn’t understand why and maybe he never will because the mere fact that you feel something towards him is so bizarre.
so he should ruin whatever it is that you love about him and tell you the truth, taint your rose-colored view on him. aventurine needs to do it now before his heart tells him not to. he knows his heart is already lovesick, so needy of that bit of love it has received from you. his heart wants to hold on tightly to you and drown in you, drown in those feelings of yours. his tiny heart wants to love you too, it wants to love you just as much as you love him. he wants your everything to consume his entire being.
but after he tells you the truth, you will leave and you will be the first and last person he’s loved. you will be the first and last person to somehow climb over the tall walls he’s built around himself and crack open the facade he’s made.
but what if… what if you stay after everything? what will happen then?
it is that small hope that he ends up clinging to.
if he is blessed gaiathra, if he is lucky, then what if… what if this is his greatest gamble of all? a gamble of love: will he lose you or will you stay?
aventurine has made up his mind despite the rational part in him telling him to not even do it, yet he does. the words flow out of his mouth easily, though his heart weighs heavy in his chest. he expects to you leave, he really does because who would want someone as ugly as him? but the tears that leaves your eyes and roll down your cheeks catches him completely off guard.
“why are you crying?” he asks, his hands reaching out to hold your arms.
your lips quiver and a hand grabs onto one of his while the other reaches out, fingers stopping before they touch his neck. aventurine leans in without thinking and a shiver goes up his spine when your fingertips gently graze the marks on his neck. you rub over the marks, “you didn’t deserve any of that, kakavasha.”
“if i could, i would take this from you and any pain you’ve felt and will feel. i would take away all of the unpleasant memories that plague your mind. for you, i would do anything.”
his knees buckle at your words and you both tumble down to the ground; he ends up being on top of you. your eyes widen when aventurine’s own tears begin to rain down, some falling onto your cheek.
“why would you say something so cruel to me?” he mutters. “don’t give me false hope. you should leave now before you do it in the future.”
“why should i leave the man that i love?” you purse your lips, your eyebrows furrowing.
aventurine shoves his head into the crook of your neck. “i am undeserving of you. i’m lesser than everyone in all of these galaxies.”
“you are not lesser than everyone,” you grumble, raking your hand through his blond hair. “everyone is the same because at the end of the day, we all want to love and to be loved.”
“i’m afraid i won’t be able to leave you now.” he hears you laugh softly, saying how his eyelashes are tickling you. he decides to get impossibly closer to you and bat his eyelashes more, smiling at the sound of your laughter growing in volume. “you’re stuck with me, so don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
aventurine’s breath gets stuck in his throat. he feels your lips brush against his neck. “i think the one who should be saying that is me… say, promise me you won’t leave?”
“shouldn’t i be saying that?”
“kava, promise me.”
“i promise. will you promise the same thing too?”
“yes, i promise that i won’t leave you.”
kakavasha, a name forgotten in the sand, was dug up and remembered, held in the hands of someone that treats like the most precious thing. kakavasha, who had forgotten how it felt to love and be loved, remembered the feeling because of a single person.
and kakavasha, blessed by gaiathra, won his greatest gamble of all time. he won you and your love, something he will now protect and hold onto tightly.
#drea writes#yuansie#hsr x reader#hsr x y/n#hsr x you#honkai star rail fanfic#honkai star rail imagines#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail fluff#hsr aventurine#hsr angst#honkai star rail angst#aventurine x y/n#aventurine x you#aventurine x reader#aventurine fluff#aventurine imagines#aventurine angst
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KITTYSUKUNA X FEM!READER
Notes: Sukuna is a hybrid with ears and a tail that’s all! Sorry this is so short, I went based off your pfp since it was Sukuna! <33
Pairings: KittyHybridSukuna X Fem!Reader
Tags: Mating press, Blowjobs,Reader has boobs, just smut! NOT PROOFREAD!
- Kitty Sukuna really doesn’t listen, like at all it’s hard to get him to do anything without a damn attitude. Ask him to take the trash out he’s grumbling under his breath every step of the way, tell him to let you brush his tail because it’s getting rather matted, hes complaining the whole time but you can hear his soft purrs.
- Kitty Sukuna who can’t help but love your beautiful mounds, squeezing the sensitive things whenever he can, he makes sure when you’re riding him that your shirt is off, and no you can’t cover yourself that just won’t do.
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- Kitty Sukuna who loves your thighs, getting and snatching every opportunity you sit down, laying his head and forcing you to rub his ears whilst whispering good things about him, things you love about him, he won’t have it any other way.
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- Kitty Sukuna who loves to bully his cock into your tight cunt, yeah he’s fingered you for a good 20 minutes but that doesn’t seem to help when your whining while he pushes himself in. His cock more thick than it is long (he’s not lacking in that department either) to offer some comfort to you his tail wraps itself around your naked upper thigh.
- Kitty Sukuna who loves a good mating press, forcing your legs to bend as far as possible while he slams into you over and over, your pussy milking him for all it’s worth, the little puffs of air you let out every so often to breath drive him insane, every time he pulls out, he admires his work of art: your stuffy nose and dried tears, but you aren’t telling him to stop, even going as far to beg him to keep ruining you.
- Kitty Sukuna who makes you swallow his load everytime you go down on him, something so precious just shouldn’t be wasted.
- Kitty Sukuna who wont admit it but he loves having his tail played with for a bit: just to tease him in his sleep you’ll tug on the base of it, he stirs but doesn’t wake up: lifting up the cover you can see just a slight movement of his hips agaisnt the bed.
#zsworks#fem reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x female reader#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#jjk x fem!reader#Hybrid Sukuna#KittyKuna
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Could I request Alucard (Castlevania) finding his beloved's art room, that is filled with various forms of art of him? Paintings, sculptures, poems, etc.
He doesn’t want to use the term ‘stalking in the night’ because he feels like it’s a trope for half of his blood line and Alucard doesn’t like stereotypes. But that was what he was doing.
It wasn’t for anything nefarious though. Night after night, his beloved would sneak off into some dark, deserted portion of the castle alone. With just the two of them there were a lot of spaces like this in his father’s old home. It also wasn’t as if they needed to spend all of their time together. Alucard appreciated that people needed & desired space. He himself needed it from time to time. It was just the pattern that had left him curious.
With his natural born stealth and tactical advantage of growing up in the castle, Alucard followed just behind them as they walked through the dark corridors and through one large, old, heavy door near the end. Almost forgotten by everyone. The dhampir arched a manicured brow and gave them a moment, and when they didn’t come out Alucard pressed on. Opening the door with much more ease and finding the room filled with a surprising amount of light despite it’s clutter. “What are you doing in here?”
He heard his lover shriek once in surprise, and something like sticks fall on the ground before it was followed by a larger commotion. “Damnit!” They cursed before they picked up what fell as Alucard came closer. A canvas and paint brushes now right side up off the floor. “What are you doing here?!”
“I asked you first.” Alucard told them as he looked around. “What is all this?”
He knew the castle very well. Although there were secrets his father kept from him, a vaults worth of art was not among them. Before he changed Dracula was actually a great patron of the arts. Finding beauty in almost all artistic expressions. So this was a new addition to his childhood home.
“It’s just…a hobby.” They confessed. “I find it soothing.”
“Art can have that effect on people.” He agreed as he looked at one of the pieces. Like his father, he liked art, but had no knack for it. Only the art for the sword had been his gift. “I meant more what is all this doing here? Why hide all this?”
“I don’t know.” They told him honestly. “I guess I just thought they weren’t very good.”
‘Not very good?’ Alucard arched his brow again as he looked at the works around the room. They were all wonderful. Even the unfinished pieces. “I never made any money selling them. And no one ever seemed interested in my art. So I just keep them here. I don’t have the heart to throw them away.”
“People are philistines. And you shouldn’t throw them away.”
Alucard picked up one of the landscapes and looked at it. He remembered this place. From one of their travels. “Can we put this in the dinning room?”
They seemed surprised by his ask. “You want to?”
“I liked this lake. Those trees. I’d like to remember it while we have meals. Think on that picnic.”
He went through the other pieces and asked if he could put up more. They weren’t his to decide what to do with, but he wanted them to encourage them to put it out. “Are you planning on turning the castle into my debut gallery?” They finally ask.
“If you’d let me.” Alucard replied after he’d collected over a dozen paintings, sculptures, and displays to bring out into the light. “Or at least a private gallery.”
They blushed but let him continue to go through the pieces. When he was done, Alucard came over and gave them a soft kiss. “You should never feel that your talent is less than. Your work is incredible. You’re incredible. You shouldn’t keep it in these dusty rooms for no one to see.”
He took the original picture he selected and left. Giving them privacy to paint while he went to hang this in its proper place in the dining room. He’d come back for the others later. Ready to bring them into the light, when they were ready.
#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#castlevania#alucard castlevania#castlevania alucard#castlevania scenarios#castlevania imagine#alucard x reader#castlevania alucard x reader#castlevania x reader#imagine#scenarios#castlevania imagines#adrian tepes#adrian fahrenheit tepes
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ART X A SELF DOUBTING VAMPIRE READER PSLPLSPSLLS!! like they think they taste all rotten and nasty but art doesnt think sooo!
red as snow
WARNING: Self doubt
PAIRING: Art the Clown x Vampire! Reader
NOTE: Omg this is so fun to think about!! thanks for the ask <3 I ALWAYS love writing about vampires OHHHH MAN
SUMMARY: Art doesn’t mind what’s wrong with you. That’s the worst part, really. You can’t understand how someone so perfect in his brutality could ever want something so rotten.
The blood pools around your feet in lazy rivulets, stark and shining against the pale stretch of snow. It’s almost beautiful, in a grotesque sort of way – the kind of beauty you find in shattered glass or a body just before the life leaves it. Art would know what you mean.
He’s doing something behind you, a slow, lilting tune, soft as snowfall. He’s in his own little world, swaying slightly, his bloodied hands clasped behind his back. His clothes look filthy now, stained with deep red streaks.
You think he looks ridiculous. And perfect.
“Do you ever think,” you say quietly, your voice barely carrying over the winter hush, “that I might taste bad?”
Art stops. His head snaps toward you, and even though you know he doesn’t speak, you feel the weight of his question in the tilt of his head, the way his wide eyes narrow just slightly.
“You know,” you murmur, staring down at the corpse between you, “if someone tried to bite me. My blood’s probably awful. There’s something wrong with me.” you glance back at him, watching the way his grin widens like it’s some private joke only he gets. “You’d agree, wouldn’t you?”
You’re half-joking, but it still stings when he laughs – or whatever you’d call that silent, breathy wheeze of his. He’s doubled over, clutching his stomach like you’ve just told the funniest joke in the world.
“I’m serious,” you say, your voice sharper now, a little defensive. You fold your arms over your chest. “Why wouldn’t it be bad? I’m rotting from the inside out, Art. I can feel it. There’s no way it’d taste good.”
He straightens up, wiping at his face even though there’s no tears, no sign of any real laughter – just that grin of his, smeared with someone else’s blood. He takes a step closer, his boots crunching over the snow.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, turning away. “I mean it. It’s not romantic to drink from something dead.”
He’s behind you before you can finish the thought, his hands curling over your shoulders in a way that makes your skin crawl – and not because you don’t like it. You hate that you do. That you want him to hold you tighter, to crush you in that terrible grip of his.
“I mean, maybe it’s fitting,” you continue. “You’re a demon. I’m a vampire. We’re both monsters. But even monsters deserve something better than this, don’t you think?”
Art spins you around in one fluid movement, his hands dropping to your arms to hold you in place. You can feel the press of his fingers through your clothing, too strong, too insistent, but you don’t pull away. He’s tilting his head again, his grin growing impossibly wider, like he’s daring you to keep talking.
“You don’t believe me,” you say softly.
He shakes his head, slow and deliberate. Then, quick as a flash, his hand moves to his chest, dragging his fingers down like he’s unzipping it, miming something pulling at his heart.
You swallow hard. “You’re just saying that.”
He glares at you, his grin faltering for the first time. It’s subtle, just the faintest twitch at the corners of his mouth, but it’s enough to make your breath catch.
“Okay, okay,” you say quickly, raising your hands in surrender. “You love me. I get it. You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”
He doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in closer, his face inches from yours. You can smell the copper tang of blood on him, can see the splatters drying on his skin.
Maybe he doesn’t care what’s wrong with you, doesn’t care if your blood tastes like poison, if your body is too far gone to be anything worth having. He just loves you.
#art the clown#art the clown x reader#terrifier#terrifier x reader#terrifier 2#terrifer 3#slasher#slashers#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#x reader#fanfic#oneshot#ask#request
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Lilith Through the Signs ✨
Let’s talk about Lilith, because she’s that dark, seductive part of your chart that you’re probably a little afraid to look at, but trust me—you need to. In astrology, Lilith shows us the hidden, raw parts of our psyche, the things we suppress or even deny. She’s our wild side, our deepest desires, and sometimes, our untapped rage. Wherever Lilith is in your chart, she brings out this primal energy that cannot be tamed. And let me tell you, she doesn't play nice. You’re going to feel it. If you don’t confront her, she’ll push until you have no choice.
If Lilith is in Aries, then honey, you’re all about raw, impulsive energy. Lilith in Aries doesn’t ask permission. You fight for independence at any cost, and sometimes, that can mean bulldozing through life without thinking about the consequences. People might call you selfish, but really, you’re just unapologetically you. You struggle with authority and anyone telling you what to do. In relationships, this placement is about the constant power struggle. You want freedom, but you also crave someone who can handle your intensity. Here’s the thing: you have to learn how to channel that fire without burning everything down. Maybe take up martial arts or something that lets you express your aggression in a healthy way.
With Lilith in Taurus, you are drawn to the pleasures of life, the sensual side of things. It’s about indulging—whether that’s in food, sex, or luxury. But here’s the shadow side: you can become possessive, even obsessive, about holding onto what you have. You want security so badly that you might cling to things (and people) that are no longer good for you. This placement craves comfort, but you can get stuck in your comfort zone, unwilling to let go even when it’s time. In your love life, you’ll likely attract relationships that push you to confront your fear of losing what you hold dear. Learn to trust that true security comes from within. You don’t need to hoard it; it’s already yours.
Lilith in Gemini? Oh boy, you are a master of words, and you know exactly how to twist them to get what you want. But watch out, because this placement can make you feel like you’re always wearing a mask. You can say all the right things, but inside, there’s a part of you that feels unseen and unheard. You’ll attract people who are intrigued by your mind, but they might not get the real you. In relationships, it’s all about mental connection, but sometimes you use communication as a weapon. You can be manipulative when you want to be, and if you’re not careful, you’ll push people away with your mind games. The key here? Be honest. Be vulnerable. You’re smart enough to know when someone isn’t on your level, but that doesn’t mean you have to hide behind cleverness.
With Lilith in Cancer, you’re dealing with deep emotional wounds. There’s a part of you that craves nurturing but also resents it at the same time. You might have grown up feeling like you had to be the caretaker, even when you weren’t ready. And now? You have a hard time letting anyone take care of you. You build emotional walls, but inside, you’re yearning for someone to break them down. In relationships, you might sabotage things when they start to feel too safe, because deep down, you’re scared of being abandoned. Your healing comes when you stop looking for that motherly figure in other people and start giving yourself the care you need. You have to learn that vulnerability is not a weakness.
If Lilith is in Leo, girl, you’re the queen—and you know it. You want to be admired, adored, worshipped, but you also fear that you’re never enough. This is a placement where ego and insecurity collide. You want the spotlight, but you’re terrified of what people will see when they look too close. Relationships become about power. You want someone who puts you on a pedestal, but the second they don’t, you’re out. The challenge here is learning that your worth doesn’t depend on external validation. When you own your power without needing applause from the crowd, you’ll find that the right people are drawn to your light.
Lilith in Virgo brings a complicated relationship with control. You strive for perfection in everything, but the more you try to control, the more things slip through your fingers. You might have a tendency to obsess over the details—whether it’s your appearance, your work, or your relationships. But this perfectionism is exhausting. You attract situations where you’re forced to confront the idea that control is an illusion. The real work is in letting go. In love, you might feel like no one is ever good enough for you, or worse, that you’re never good enough. But the truth is, you don’t have to fix anyone, least of all yourself. Your healing comes from accepting the messiness of life.
Lilith in Libra? Oh, this is a tricky one because you want harmony and balance, but deep down, you might feel like you’re constantly at war with yourself. You attract people who reflect your shadow side, and it’s easy to lose yourself in relationships. You want to please others so badly that you forget your own needs, and then you resent them for it. This placement has to learn how to set boundaries and stop giving away power just to keep the peace. In love, you might find yourself drawn to partners who are controlling or manipulative, and it’s because you’re not owning your own power. Stand up for yourself. Relationships are meant to be equal, not a battleground.
If your Lilith is in Scorpio, honey, you’ve got intensity for days. This is one of the most powerful Lilith placements, but it also comes with deep emotional wounds around trust and betrayal. You crave deep, soul-shattering connections, but you’re also terrified of being vulnerable. In love, you attract relationships that push you to confront your darkest fears—jealousy, obsession, control. The challenge for you is to let go of the need to dominate. You’re not going to lose your power by being vulnerable. In fact, true power comes from letting others see the real you, scars and all. The key here is to trust that you won’t be destroyed by love. It’s transformative, not destructive.
Lilith in Sagittarius is about freedom—wild, uncontained freedom. You’re always looking for the next adventure, the next thrill, and you can’t stand to be tied down. But here’s the thing: running from commitment isn’t going to fill that void inside. You attract situations where you feel like your wings are being clipped, but it’s because you’re not allowing yourself to fully engage. You might avoid deep connections because you’re afraid they’ll hold you back. In relationships, you crave freedom, but you also want someone who understands your need for independence. Your journey is about finding a way to commit without feeling caged. Trust that you can have both stability and freedom.
If Lilith is in Capricorn, you’re all about power and control. You crave success, but deep down, you fear failure more than anything. You’ll push yourself to the brink just to prove you’re worthy, but this placement often comes with a deep sense of insecurity. You might feel like no matter how much you achieve, it’s never enough. In relationships, you attract people who challenge your need for control, and it forces you to confront the fact that true success isn’t about power—it’s about vulnerability. Learn to let go of the idea that you have to be the one in control all the time. It’s okay to let someone else take the lead. You’ll find that it makes you stronger, not weaker.
With Lilith in Aquarius, you’re the rebel. You don’t like being told what to do, and you’re always pushing against the grain. But this can also make you feel like an outsider, like you don’t belong. You attract relationships where you feel like you have to sacrifice your individuality, but deep down, you know that’s not the answer. Your challenge is to find a way to be in a relationship without losing yourself. Don’t be afraid to stand out. The world needs your unique vision. In love, you might push people away because you’re afraid of being controlled, but real freedom comes from allowing yourself to be fully seen.
Finally, Lilith in Pisces is a placement of deep emotional sensitivity. You feel everything, and sometimes, that can be overwhelming. You might have a tendency to escape through fantasy or avoidance because reality feels too harsh. But this placement also gives you incredible intuition. You attract relationships where you feel like you’re drowning in emotions, and it can be hard to find your footing. The key here is to set boundaries—emotional boundaries. You don’t have to take on other people’s pain as your own. Your healing comes when you learn to stay grounded in reality while still honoring your deeply spiritual side. Embrace your empathy, but don’t let it consume you.
xoxo Ash 💓 Get your own reading at astroash.net
#astrology#astrology readings#astrology aspects#natal chart#astrologer#astro observations#astro notes#astro community#astrology blog#daily astrology#horoscopes#zodiac#astro placements#birth chart#astrology signs#aries#taurus#gemini#cancer#leo#virgo#libra#scorpio#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces#mercury#chiron#lilith
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pastries & promises | jjk
⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader
⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au
⛓️summary: After hooking up with the hot nerdy boy in your coding class over the weekend, you’ll use any excuse to keep his hands on your body all week long.
⛓️word count: 3k
⛓️warnings: catdilf!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, praise kink, dirty talk, oc is a horny lil brat, mention of getting wasted at parties, one instance of slut-shaming, oc makes an ignorant comment about earl grey tea lol, no explicit smut in this drabble
⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️
a/n: this takes place a few days after p&p jjk & oc start talking to give us a glimpse of what their new dynamic is like in & out of class✨ btw despite what oc says about earl grey, i personally love it;;
After a weekend of sex, coding, kitten shenanigans, and more sex, you wake up to a beautiful boy with equally beautiful tattoos nagging you to “get the fuck up” for the “hundredth time” because “class starts in twenty minutes” and “attendance is worth 25% of your grade.” It somehow slipped your mind that it’s already Monday. Can he really blame you after fucking you silly several hours ago?
You tug at the collar of his hoodie and pull him on top of you. Still very much naked beneath the sheets, you suggest, “Or we can just skip class and extend our weekend? I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”
“Nice try, but no.” Jungkook offers you a hand and pulls you into an upright sitting position. The sheets slide down your chest, and you catch the boy staring a little too long.
“And you expect me to walk into class without a bra?” It’s not your fault you rushed over to his place last night in nothing but a baby tee and leggings. Why bother throwing on a bra when you know it’s gonna be torn off your body the second you step into his room?
“I mean, I’m not against it.” His eyes are still locked onto your chest. At least he’s a guy who appreciates art when he sees it. When he’s finally done, he digs through his closet and throws one of his grey hoodies into your arms. “But this will keep you warmer.”
You sniff the hoodie. It’s clean but still has the very scent you’ve familiarized yourself with a lot this weekend—blossoms and bergamot. It smells delicious.
With a sigh, you hop out of the bed and collect your pieces of clothing from every corner of the room. Your thong somehow wound up slung over his computer screen, but better there than on the floor.
Once you’re dressed in your day-old clothes, you slip into the boy’s hoodie and drown in his scent. The warmth that engulfs you makes you want to adopt his comfy casual style. At least on school days. Maybe you wouldn’t dread going to class so much if you could just sit there and be all cozy like that.
You’d still prefer to stay home and fuck him, though.
“You know what, I’m not feeling very well all of a sudden,” you lie. “Maybe you should stay home too so we don’t spread any germs to our beloved classmates.”
“Maybe you should just go to class like a good girl, and maybe you’ll be rewarded afterward,” he throws back at you. The way you perk up is almost embarrassing. But you’ve definitely got a thing for being praised and rewarded for good behavior. Especially if the prize is something pleasurable. So yeah, you suppose you’ll endure class for a few hours so that you can have some more fun later on.
“Fine.” You wrap your pinky around his to solidify the deal. He gives you a look but doesn’t pull his finger away. “But just know that you’re a nerd for never skipping class.”
“And how do you know I never skip class?” He raises his brow with intrigue.
“We’ve been in at least three or four other comp sci classes together, and I’ve never seen you miss a day.”
“Oh, so you’ve been keeping tabs on me all this time?” He’s totally calling you out. But he isn’t wrong. As quiet as Jungkook is in class, it’s hard not to notice someone who’s so incredibly smart. Doesn’t hurt that you’ve always thought he was kinda cute too.
“I guess you could say that,” you admit. What you won’t admit, however, is the fact that you’d wanted to talk to him back then but didn’t know how to initiate a conversation. You might be considered popular, but you sure as hell don’t know how to talk to people unless they strike up the conversation first. And Jeon Jungkook clearly didn’t have any intentions of being the initiator.
Thank god for that partner project that started it all.
Just before the two of you can get out the door, a tiny mew stops you in your tracks. The kitten looks up at Jungkook and cries again.
“You have to stay home, little one,” he says, holding a hand up for her to sit and stay. Like the naughty demon child she is, she ignores everything he says and climbs up his leg and into his arms. You can hear her purring as soon as she rests her chin on her dad’s shoulder like an actual baby. It’s so tempting to take a million pictures of the glorious cat dad moment and set one as your phone wallpaper, but you’d definitely run out of storage. Good to know you have some form of restraint when it comes to your infatuation.
After ten heartwarming seconds, he sets the kitten down in her pink bed and gives her a new tiger toy that was special ordered from some fancy cat shop on the other side of the country.
“Stay,” he tells her again before rising out of his squat. When she does as she’s told, he adds, “Good kitten.”
Oh, how you wish he was saying that to you right now.
“Your daddy really spoils you, you know that?” you giggle, waving bye to the kitty. A second later, you’re overcome by the urge to latch around Jungkook’s arm as you both head to his car. “When are you going to spoil me like that?”
He doesn’t give you a specific answer, but you’ll gladly accept the way he shrugs with the faintest hint of a smile. The two of you haven’t been talking all that long, and yet, he seems to be tolerating your antics well. At the very least, he must like you a tiny bit.
On the car ride over, you feel like you’re forgetting something. And then the boy’s stomach rumbles. Neither of you has eaten anything since the impromptu fast food run last night.
“Ooh, we should stop by the cute little bakery near campus before class,” you suggest, totally not trying to avoid class for the thousandth time today. “I heard they have really good muffins.”
“We’re gonna be late if we make any detours.” He catches a glimpse of your pout as he makes a right turn. “We can go after.”
Your pout quickly becomes a smile because he keeps sweetening the deal. You’re very much looking forward to the promised pastries and sex after class along with anything else he might throw in.
When you get to class, the usual gal crowd is hanging around your desk. Except someone else is there sitting in your seat. It’s Big Tim. Great. You love confrontation first thing in the morning.
Before approaching the seat thief, you watch him throw a cocky ass smile at Jungkook who straight up ignores it as he takes his seat next door. You would’ve appreciated a little help, but there’s nothing from Big Tim you can’t handle. Besides, the two of you agreed to keep the whole hookup thing lowkey and out of the mouths of your gossiping classmates. Otherwise Jungkook would probably end up hearing a wacky rumor-fied version of it from his tattoo artist.
“Hi?” you say to the guy in your seat. You’ll play nice for now.
“Oh hi Y/N, we were just talking about you.” Big Tim gives you a much kinder smile than the one he threw at Jungkook—a byproduct of being popular, you suppose.
“About what?” You’re genuinely confused.
“There’s a party at my place this weekend, and I’m hoping you’ll be there.” This is the first time he’s personally invited you anywhere. Is it a coincidence that he’s doing it in front of an audience?
“Thanks for the invite, but I’m all partied out for a while,” you respond as honestly and gracefully as possible. You have no interest in hanging out with Big Tim, but parties aren’t completely off the table forever. It might be fun to bring Jungkook to one eventually, even though he claims he’s uninterested in getting wasted with people he couldn’t care less about. “Can I have my seat back now?”
Big Tim laughs it off like you weren’t being serious. “Aww, don’t be like that. It’s just gonna be a small thing with you, me, and a few others. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
You and him? You almost gag. That doesn’t sound like fun at all. And what’s up with him dismissing your gentle rejection? If he didn’t want to be rejected in front of everyone, he shouldn’t have hyped it up in the first place. Now it just feels like he’s pressuring you into going along with it because he knows you’re too soft to make him look bad in front of others. Unfortunately for him, that’s not going to happen.
“I’m seeing someone—a single father, actually—and I’ve been helping him with his kid. So I don’t have time for your party.” The single father part is a bit of a stretch, but you kind of like the sound of it. He’s your local hot cat dilf after all.
The girls’ jaws all drop at the same time. Big Tim’s smile also drops a bit, but he continues to shrug it off. “Helping a dad with his kid? Anything for a good dicking, I guess.”
Okay, buddy.
You tried to stay courteous about the whole situation, and this is what you get in return. He can say whatever he wants to make himself feel better about himself, but it’s also sad to see not a single one of the other girls step in and call him out on his bullshit. You’re sick of it.
“Are you done? Can you leave now?” You look Big Tim straight in the eyes, although you’re hoping the girls take a hint to leave as well.
They don’t. Because they’re too invested in how Big Tim will respond as he opens his big mouth once more.
“She said leave,” Jungkook snaps out of nowhere. If you had to guess, he was trying to catch up on sleep after that long night with you, and now he’s cranky and mad that Big Tim can’t just shut up and take the L.
Big Tim and the girls collectively turn their heads toward the grumpy boy who cuts the conversation off with a death glare to each and every one of them. As expected, Jungkook is the only person who’d ever take your side on anything. And that’s why he’s the only one who matters to you these days.
At long last, the crowd disperses and everyone goes back to their seats. Just in time for class to begin.
As soon as class ends, you stretch your arms out, slip past all the girls who want the deets on this mysterious dilf you’re seeing, and meet back up with said dilf outside the building.
“Bakery time?” You’re smiling awfully bright despite the shitshow that went down before class. But that’s the effect Jeon Jungkook seems to have on you. You’ll take a bad day every once in a while if he’s there to make it a little better.
“Don’t bakeries usually close early?” he asks in a calm voice as if that isn’t the most devastating thing someone has said to you all day. You hadn’t thought about that.
In a panic, you pull out your phone to check the time and google the bakery’s business hours. Before you can get your answer, the boy chuckles, “It’s open. I already checked. You’re just fun to fuck with.”
You’d fight him for messing with you like that, but you’re too distracted by that chuckle. It’s a rare occurrence that you’ll treasure forever. Who knew he had such a charming laugh? And how lucky are you to be the one to hear it?
“By the way, thanks for earlier,” you say as you hop into his car. “I was about to throw hands at Tim.”
“I thought his name was Jim.” The boy looks so confused. You love it. “But yeah, you should’ve thrown hands for all that shit he said.”
“He wasn’t wrong about the good dicking though,” you hum. You can’t even remember the last time sex was this good.
“Definitely not wrong about that,” Jungkook agrees with a big fat smirk on his face.
When the two of you arrive at the bakery, you’re delighted to see that they haven’t sold out of the famous poppy seed muffins you’ve been eyeing on Yelp. You try to get Jungkook on board with the muffin agenda, but he opts for a buttery croissant—another solid pick. You’ll definitely be stealing a bite out of that flaky pastry of his.
“Which drink are you getting?” you ask, eyeing the drink menu like it’s a map of Disneyland. Everything looks so fucking good that you don’t know where to start.
“A London fog.” You have no idea what that is, but it sounds boring. “It’s earl grey,” he clarifies upon seeing the ignorance in your eyes.
“Isn’t that what old people drink?” you snicker. “You’re a nerd and a senior citizen?”
“Well what are you getting? A hot chocolate, right? Because that’s what babies drink,” he teases back. Now that you think about it, he calls you Baby an awful lot in bed. If the two of you were dating, you wonder if you could get him to call you that all the time. Hypothetically speaking, of course.
You do end up getting the hot chocolate while Jungkook gets his elderly drink. As the barista is ringing the order up at the register, a cute sign catches your attention at the other end of the counter because there’s a cat on it. You wander over to it and pick up one of the baggies with fresh baked cat treats in it. What a coincidence.
“Hey Jungkook, look. Let’s get this for Lucy, too.” Excited by your last-minute find, you scurry back to the register where the boy is already slipping his wallet back into his butt pocket. Fine, if he wants to pay for your breakfast, then you’re paying for the kitty treats.
After you pay and secure all your food, the two of you return to Jungkook’s place. The first thing you do is seek out the kitten who’s busy taking a nap on the boy’s bed instead of in her own.
She blinks at you with heavy eyelids and twitches her nose toward the bag in your hand.
“Good morning, little cutie,” you grin. “I brought you some special treats.”
Her big ears immediately shoot up as she starts pawing at the bag. She’s so fucking cute you could cry.
“You have to ask your daddy if it’s okay to eat one now.” You continue to use your baby voice before turning to the daddy in question standing behind you.
“Just one.” The stern dad voice comes out. “And make sure you break it in half. She’s small, you know.”
“Yes, daddy.” By now, the word slips so naturally off your tongue. You meant for it to be sarcastic this time, but you’re also very aware of what it does to him and his body.
He watches quietly as you break the treat into bits and hold it in your palm for the kitten to gobble up. She meows, optimistic for more special treats, but you stick to the plan and give her more pets and cuddles instead.
“Your daddy is so mean, huh. He doesn’t want you eating any more yummy treats,” you blabber into the kitten’s ear. She makes a whiny sound in agreement.
“Hey, what are you two conspiring about over there?” Jungkook frowns.
“Oh nothing.” You’re about to shoo him away but notice his lock screen flashing on in his hand. It looks like a pic of you and the kitten conspiring together. “Wait, what’s that on your phone?”
“Oh nothing,” he mocks you before changing the subject. “Drink your hot chocolate already. It’s getting cold.”
You take a sip of it as you devour the muffin. Your drink is basically cold chocolate milk at this point, but at least it still tastes amazing. The muffin slaps too.
“Taste,” you say as you offer up your half-eaten muffin to the boy. He takes a bite like a good boyfriend would—except he’s not actually your boyfriend.
“It’s good,” he shrugs as he goes back to the flaky pastry. “The croissant’s better though.”
“Let me taste.” You grab hold of the boy’s chin and taste the butter on his lips. He kisses back with long, tender motions that leave you wanting far more than just a casual makeout session. There’s no doubt in your mind that he tastes better than both the muffin and croissant combined. You pull back for just a second to say, “Hey, wasn’t I promised sex after class?”
“Do the homework first. It’s easy.” Of course Jeon Jungkook has his priorities straight, and of course you listen because you’re craving more of his praise. At least he’s a good influence on you. “And I never said sex specifically, by the way. Is that what you were thinking about in that dirty little head of yours?”
He’s 100% right. Your horny mind just believes whatever it wants to believe. Right now, it's telling you the boy wants it just as much as you do. He’s just better at hiding it.
“It was heavily implied though,” you huff as you take your laptop out and start on a boring coding exercise on his bed. “The sex better be really good!” And that’s a threat.
“When has it not been?” Jungkook shoots you an arrogant look. Good point. And apparently he’s already finished with the assignment because he shuts his computer off and turns his attention to your screen. He sits his ass right behind you, slips his hands up into the hoodie you’re wearing, and whispers into your ear, “Now hurry up and finish. I’m waiting.”
#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts college au#nerd jungkook
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do you have any digital art advice?
pen stabilization is your friend!
experiment with different tools and brushes to find the ones that will suit your art style best
study different styles! it's a great way to improve and learn new techniques
remember to flip the canvas
don't be afraid to use references for poses and compositions
alpha lock on a layer will allow you to draw only inside what already exists on that layer, for example you can change the color of a lineart with it
clipping mask is also very useful
don’t use pure white as a background cause you’ll just strain your eyes
rgb mode is for screens, cmyk mode is for printing
blending modes are great to have fun with your drawing (you can use hard more/overlay to make your lineart/sketch layer blend in with the colors underneath, a layer with a color with soft mode on top of the drawing will add a nice tint to it and will help make the drawing more put together)
noise effect adds a nice texture to a drawing
you can also add paper textures!
REMEMBER to save your work regularly and make backup of your work so you won't lose it when program crashes
make mistakes and learn from them
don’t be afraid to redo something if it doesn’t feel right and start over
draw what YOU want and what makes YOU happy
and most importantly - have fun and experiment!
plus a general art advice if you decide to post any kind of art on the internet: try to not have any expectations so you won’t be disappointed. not sure if this is a good advice but the less you create something to do well with likes and shares the longer you stay away from artblock and constant burnout. it also helps with building the appreciation you have for your art from within you and not from the validation and approval of others (it's hard, I know, but it's worth working on)
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Transits that Enhance Beauty & Attraction
✰ my masterlist
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❦ Venus Hours
Click here to calculate planetary hours. I use planetary hours more so as a life hack, it's not something I would go out of my way to plan my days around. But, Venus hours are definitely worth being taken advantage of. All activities related to beauty, love, and the arts will have an especially heightened effect when occurring during Venus hours. Plan dates during these hours, and partake in beauty routines. Taking selfies and posting them during a Venus hour might result in heightened attention.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❦ Fridays
There's a reason why this is everyone's favorite day of the week. This is the perfect time to engage in pursuits of pleasure. Connecting with people comes easier on Fridays which is why it’s so favorable for social activities. Making an effort to relax is essential. Go shopping so you can buy yourself something beautiful. Eat good food, put effort into your appearance, and listen to music that makes you ponder about love. Wear pink or green if you can.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❦ Venus in the First House
People genuinely look GOOD when Venus is transiting through their first house. It is also natural for people to make adjustments to their appearance during this time frame, and it always serves them well in the end. When Venus is in your first house, you can look forward to a month full of good hair days and clear skin. That alone is usually all it takes to greatly boost one's confidence. Attracting attention, especially the romantic kind, also occurs during this transit. I always have encounters that leave me feeling really good about my appearance when Venus is in my first house.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❦ Neptune in the First House
Getting in touch with yourself allows for your inner beauty to radiate outwards, which is oftentimes the result of this transit. The most beautiful people you know are also always the kindest. Acting on compassion will enhance how attractive you appear to others. An air of mystery tends to hang around people when Neptune is transiting through their first house. It is common to have people yearning and fantasizing about you during this transit.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❦ Venus in the Fifth House
This transit brings a lot of fun into my life. There's always an uptake in invites to social engagements, and I’ve had lots of flings and short term relationships begin under this transit. I also tend to discover a lot of new music when Venus transits through my fifth house. My only advice for this time frame is to take full advantage of it! I think leaning into the spontaneity of this transit results in a carefree attitude. You won’t be caught up in appearances because you’ll be having too much fun to really care.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❦ Neptune in the Tenth House
I’m not going to get into all the situations that may occur during this transit. Neptune transiting through the tenth house doesn’t have much to do with physical beauty and attractiveness. But, it is a good time to try and capture photographs of yourself. You’ll look especially good on camera.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❧ Sun Conjunct / Sextile / Trine Sun
During these transits, people often find themselves feeling lively and rejuvenated. A general sense of excitement and love of life is felt quite deeply. This type of energy brings out the best in people and they glow from the inside out. An excellent time to throw parties and host celebrations.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❧ Sun Conjunct / Sextile / Trine Ascendant
You’ll be hard to miss with the transitioning sun positively aspecting your natal ascendant. The people you encounter during this time will find you especially attractive and will feel energized by your presence. Job interviews and first impressions are favorable under this transit.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❧ Moon Conjunct / Sextile / Trine Mars
Getting in touch with your sexual desires is common with these transits. Lots of passionate feelings arise. Insecurities are unlikely to hold you back, you’ll feel sexy and attractive. Being direct about your feelings will result in positive encounters.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❧ Venus Conjunct / Sextile / Trine Sun
It doesn’t take much for you to feel good when these transits are occurring. You’ll feel beautiful and will receive more attention due to this. Go out and have fun. Spend money. Be affectionate with your friends and loved ones.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❧ Venus Conjunct / Sextile / Trine Moon
A sense of security is generated through these transits. You’ll feel charismatic and easy-going. Emotional harmony is reached and affectionate feelings will be increased. Whatever has been causing you stress will dissipate for the time being and your physical appearance will reflect this. Sexual attractiveness is heightened and you’ll find it easy to connect with the more sensual aspects of life. This is an especially favorable time for haircuts.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❧ Venus Conjunct / Sextile / Trine Venus
You’ll be feeling downright gorgeous and will feel a great need to invest in your appearance. The clothing you buy during this time will be in alignment with your style. You might find yourself experiencing a streak of good luck. It seems as though everything comes easy to you when these transits are occurring. People will be especially kind and affectionate towards you, you’ll have many positive social interactions. Focus on the aspects of life that bring you peace during this time so you can use them again when life becomes more chaotic.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
❧ Venus Conjunct / Sextile / Trine Ascendant
The only downside that occurs with these transits is having to deal with a sense of laziness. You’ll want to forget all about your responsibilities. Luckily, you’ll be very well received and can get away with more than you normally would under ordinary circumstances. You’ll find yourself stuck, staring into the mirror because you look THAT good. You might catch yourself constantly making adjustments to your appearance. Warmth and affection will follow you throughout daily life. This would be a good time to take a vacation.
#I finally figured out how to use cool colors#astrology#astro community#astrology placements#astro observations#astrology observations#astro notes#birth chart#astrology tumblr#natal astrology#natal chart#astrology transits#astrology blog#astrology chart#astrologyposts#astro predictions#tropical astrology#astrology community#astrology notes#astroblr#transits#horoscope#horoscope prediction#horoscope reading#venus#venus transits#neptune transits#astro posts#astro tumblr#neptune
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state-of-the-art sex on fire chapter two
*chants* ceo joel ceo joel ceo joel
part 2 to you shook me all night long!!! massive credit to @whore-4-pedro again for the concept this is SO much fun. work trip coming soon babies!!! masterlist here, ao3 here 💓
pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel’s had a rough week at work. you figure you know the perfect way to relieve some of his tension
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) more teasing and touching, oral (m receiving), getting handsy in public + fingering, unprotected semi-public piv sex, creampie, daddy kink, softdom!joel, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship
word count: 6.6k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
The stretch is too much; he’s all the way in down to his knuckles, curling and then uncurling his fingers deep inside you. Your hips are slowly circling by instinct, rutting against his hand as it fucks you, sending fluttery waves of pleasure all over your body. You ball up your fist, nails digging half-moons into the skin of your palm, attempting to fight the tidal wave fast approaching as Joel’s fingers snap harder into you, a third beckoning your orgasm nearer and nearer. You’re there – right where he wants you, almost throwing your head back with the feeling he’s giving you. And then you make the mistake of looking at him, catching that ever so Joel smile when, shielded from the others by his hand, he breathes, “There’s my girl.”
The black mug. Not the one with the gold handle – that’s one of Martha’s. She doesn’t use it much – at least not as much as the one with her granddaughter’s face printed on it – but she once left you with a stack of paperwork to shred all by yourself just ‘cause you made yourself a tea in it.
No. Just plain black all over. No words, no pictures. Plain. Black.
Few spoonsful of coffee into the filter, hard granules sprinkling over the white paper. Close the lid, flick the switch, and then wait for it to brew. Once it’s done, fill the mug almost to the top – until the coffee kisses the bottom of that one chip in the ceramic. No sugar. No sweetener. No nothing.
Just plain black.
“Thanks, darlin’.” Joel takes the mug carefully from your hands as you wander over, then you perch yourself by his side on Martha’s desk. He takes a sip and nods like usual, confirming what you already know.
You make a damn good cup of coffee.
“You’re worth, what, a few hundred million? You can’t buy a better coffee machine?”
“’s wrong with that one?” he asks, mug on his bottom lip.
“Works like it’s from the eighties or something.”
Martha clears her throat behind you both. “I am gonna give you five seconds to explain what you mean by that.”
“I mean…it’s not exactly state-of-the-art, is it?”
Joel’s jaw drops dramatically. His head wobbles like it’s about to implode, hearing what you just said. “You hear that, Martha? We ain’t state-of-the-art anymore, you ‘n me. We’re older ‘n that coffee machine, you know.”
Martha’s shaking her head, clicking away at her computer.
Joel nudges your arm with a soft chuckle and you sigh, turning away to watch the four men in his office; stood an awkward distance apart, small talking, pacing, adjusting their suits. One of them is messing with some trinket on Joel’s bookshelf.
“You think they’re nervous?” you ask, and he laughs from behind you.
“I reckon they’ve a lot to be nervous about.”
“Was it that bad? On Monday?”
Joel had spent the better part of four hours locked in that conference room, right after you two – you know. He was late for lunch by the time he was ushering them out, collars loose, jackets slung over arms. It was probably a good thing you’d tired him out a little beforehand, or he’d have been way more unforgiving than he was.
Three departments in Joel’s company have gone over budget. It isn’t a huge deal. He has the money. Just, he wants the right people in charge of it, and right now…he clearly doesn’t have that. Honestly, you hate to admit it, but it makes sense. You’re kinda on Joel’s side.
He’d given them to the end of the week to come up with action plans, figure out how to undo the mess. This is the end of the week. This is supposed to be the big reveal.
Joel runs a hand through his hair, palm hooking around the back of his neck.
“Wasn’t great,” he mutters.
You knew that much. You’d asked what he wanted to eat as he passed your desk en route back to his office, and he’d waved his hand and told you to order whatever you wanted with his card. When his door closed, you glanced over to Martha, who shrugged, and went back to playing solitaire.
You figured he wasn’t down for more sex. He didn’t reappear until five o’clock, when he walked you down to the street, carrying your jacket for you, and helped you into your cab.
The elevator dings and the brass doors separate, revealing a figure behind.
George Mackley. Short. Stout. Obnoxiously bright red tie. Head of marketing.
He waddles in a hurry toward the three of you, nodding curtly to Joel as he passes. His shaking hand fumbles around the handle of the office door, which he pulls on instead of pushing, and gives an awkward chuckle before rushing inside.
“Fuckin’…finally,” Joel grunts, passing you his mug and standing up.
“Should I order my own lunch again?” you ask, looking up at the man stretching his arms out before you. Like he’s about to go in and punch sense into them all.
You’d probably love him to do that. It’d make for some great sex afterward.
“I’ll be takin’ a lunch break,” he replies, tapping your knee, “whether we’re done or not. Be out at one.”
You nod, and he stalks off to his office. His mug’s still warm in your lap. You’re still staring when he enters the room, watching how all five men immediately file into the couches across from his desk just at the sight of him. Watching how Joel’s lean figure sits back against his desk, his ankles crossed. His arms folded at his chest. His broad shoulders beneath that tight white shirt.
He has that way about him. Commanding, confident. Strong. It’s probably what convinced you to fold, if you’re honest. Sure, he’s kind, and he’s a good boss, all things considered. He’s funny. But he’s cool. It takes a lot to shake Joel.
This meeting? It’s not shaking him. He’s barely even giving these guys enough attention to sit up straight. He’s so damn breezy, so laidback that when he pushes off of his desk and stands up, you give a small gasp.
You lift his mug, drinking from the same spot his lips touched only minutes ago.
“Thought you hated black coffee,” Martha murmurs.
“Stress sipping,” you reply. “Fucking hell…”
Joel’s erratic. Waving his arms, pacing around the room. You swear the men cower as he approaches; shoulders hunched and heads low until he’s past them.
He looks…Yeah. Fuck it. He looks a little shaken.
Martha tuts. “Shouldn’t be idiots with his money.”
“He has money, though,” you offer. “Like, this ain’t that big a deal, is it? He can afford to go over budget sometimes.”
“Joel doesn’t like anyone messin’ with what’s his,” she tells you. “Doesn’t like other hands on his toys. It’s not the overspending he’s pissed about. It’s the crossin’ the line.”
Your eyebrow cocks. She can’t see your expression, and good thing, because it’d probably give you away. Doesn’t like other hands on his toys.
A flash of movement from Joel’s office drags your eyes from the dregs of his coffee back to the transparent wall between you. He’s whipping the shades closed one by one, putting a barrier between his office and the outside world.
It can’t mean anything good, right? It doesn’t look like they’re about to sit in a circle and braid each other’s hair. Sure as hell aren’t about to see Joel’s good side.
“I gotta go in,” you declare, lifting off of Martha’s desk like you’ve taken flight.
She calls your name, almost tired of your antics. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”
But you’re already scooping up a notepad, slipping it under your arm and fishing a pen from your desk. Already walking over to the office door, hearing the dangerous hum of Joel’s voice through the wood.
Your knuckles rap three times. You don’t wait to be called inside. Just push the handle down and slip in.
He’s stood against the frame of one of the windows, hands in his pockets. When you materialize from behind the door, his face relaxes. Brows loosen, jaw slackens. Lips almost tug into a smile.
“Sorry I’m late.” You sidle over to his desk and sit down in his chair, biting on your bottom lip, casting an unsure glance around the room.
Five pale faces turned to you. George Mackley looks like he’s about to weep.
Joel thanks you and then steps forward. “So, Ken, we were at last month’s sales.”
“Uh, yeah…” Ken draws his gaze from you when Joel moves in front of the desk. As he waltzes by, he spins slowly, giving you a look as he passes.
Kill me, he mouths, rolling his eyes. You smile, looking down at your blank notebook. You’re not here to take the fucking minutes. You know that, Joel knows that. You’re only here so he has something to keep him from losing it. Something to sit and look pretty, and calm him down.
Also: you kinda want the gossip. What the fuck did these guys do with all of Joel’s money, right?
Almost two hours in, a dozen games of tic-tac-toe against yourself, and one very crude drawing of Monday morning’s activities, Joel startles you by slamming a file down onto his glass coffee table.
“And you think that’s a solution?” he spits, voice laced with fury.
“Joel, you gotta see it from my side. I’m managing thirty people down there, it’s–”
“’n I’m managing five idiots from up here. Mackley,” he turns to the face as red as the tie below it, “you got anythin’ else for me?”
George Mackley shakes his head. His hair’s unkempt; it was gelled flat to his head when he arrived, but his hands have been through it more times than Joel’s lapped the office.
“Alright. Y’know what,” Joel seethes, backing up and motioning for them to stand, “everyone out. Meeting’s over. Go.”
“Joel–” A tall man with blue eyes stands up.
“If you ain’t about to offer me somethin’ that can fuckin’ fix this mess, then shut your mouth and get out of my office. All of you.”
The men sheepishly collect their briefcases, their documents, themselves, and stand, filing out of the door one by one. You rise from Joel’s chair, taking your notepad between your fingers, and slowly wander around the desk.
He’s standing with his head in his hands, shoulders swelling with his breathing. Does he want you to leave, too? You don’t want to rile him more; certainly don’t want to be the first face his angry self sees. But you want to make sure he’s okay. Want to check on him.
Plus, he’s kind of hot when he’s pissed.
You’re tottering toward the door when Joel drops his hands from his face, notices you, and says, plain as the coffee in his mug, “Not you.”
You turn back, pushing the door closed behind you.
“Didn’t mean to yell.”
You don’t reply. Your hand lifts to find the lock blindly behind your hip, and you click it. Now there’s nobody, no one to disturb you both. No one to walk in, no one to see.
You approach him.
He’s still talking: “Didn’t want you to have to hear all that. I spoil your morning?”
Your head shakes and you mutely take his hands, leading him around to his chair and pushing him back into it.
“Baby, what–”
You part his legs with your own, his fingers still interlocked with yours. Then you think he gets it. Understands where you’re going.
You sink to your knees between his thighs.
“They were bein’ idiots,” you say, fingers undoing his belt. “’n you didn’t spoil my mornin’. You gave me a little bit of excitement.”
Joel’s breath shudders as he watches you tug his belt through the loops of his pants and drop it to the floor. Still, he laughs, and asks, “Is that so?”
“N– Oh, fuck. Not like that. Like–” You pause, breathing out a sigh.
Yeah, okay. Like that, if you want. I’m down if you are.
His pants are open, lying loose on his hips. The waistband of his boxers visible. You hook two fingers over it and peel it down a fraction, following Joel’s happy trail as it grows thicker and darker, when he puts a hand over yours and breathes your name.
“Relax,” you mutter back, nudging his hand off of yours. “Just let me take care of you.”
His head falls against the back of his chair and his shoulders sink into the leather. You pull on the elastic and take hold of the base of his cock, already stiff, slipping it out from beneath the black cotton.
Joel’s knees fall slack when you take a hold of him. Two hands, because he’s so fucking big. Your fists pump him a few times, feeling him harden in your grasp, warm skin rock solid in your hands. You lean forward on your knees, thick bead of saliva falling from your lips onto his head, dribbling down his smooth shaft.
Joel’s watching through hooded lids. Caressing your hair, petting you. Your fingers collect your spit and drag it up and down him, and you swear he almost fucking whines.
Almost isn’t enough. You want to really hear him. So you slacken your jaw, part your lips, and slide them down, tongue flat against the underside of his length as he fills your mouth. Joel’s fist tightens, pulls harshly on your hair for just a second, until he’s breathing out again in relief, body relaxing to the feel of your wet tongue around his hard cock.
“Don’t need to – do this, babygirl.”
“Mhm,” you mumble around him.
“Fuck…” he whispers.
Your elbows are hooked over his thighs, holding yourself up in place between his legs. He tastes salty; skin warm, smooth. Your tongue flickers over his head, collecting precum, and Joel groans.
You pull off of him and lick your lips.
“What you gonna do?” you ask, fingers squeezing and dragging saliva and Joel’s arousal up and down. “About the budget stuff?”
His chest is heaving, hips lifting out of the seat almost like he’s trying to put himself back where he belongs. “What…can I do?” he asks through desperate pants. “Can’t – fuck – can’t drum sense into ‘em.”
You wrap your puffy lips around his tip, kissing it, tongue playing with him again. Swirling around, gathering him on your tastebuds. “Why don’t you cut ‘em loose, then?”
Your head dips again, lips sucking around his shaft, tongue still darting around his swollen head.
He can barely fucking answer. His eyes close over and, with a groan either side of the sentence, he replies, “’s not that easy, baby. Fuck. Keep doin’ that.”
You loosen your lips enough to let your reply pass them. Your voice is muffled, thick. “Sounds easy to me.”
“Shut up,” he grunts. “Keep fuckin’ – usin’ your tongue.”
You obey, running your tongue up and down his length and coming to rest to pay more attention to his tip.
“Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”
You hollow your cheeks and let your lips trickle up and down for a bit before releasing him with a pop. Joel’s writhing underneath you, leaning almost horizontal in his chair.
“Gonna cum, daddy?”
He nods, eyes still screwed shut. “Yeah, pretty girl. You want it down your throat again?”
“Mhm.”
“Fuck – dirty girl.”
It’s all the encouragement you need. You widen your jaw, taking him in your mouth in full, until he’s choking you down to what feels like the bottom of your fucking neck. You fuck him with your throat, bobbing up and down, his fist in your hair pushing and pulling even though you don’t need him to. Your mouth meets the skin at the base of his cock over and over, dark hair brushing against your glossy lips.
Joel’s moaning each time, when his cock kisses the back of your throat, when you involuntarily choke around him, when your tongue drags along his length as he pulls you up and down. And soon his breathing loses rhythm, hips tense, and you know he’s there.
He cums, hard, at the back of your mouth. Warm release spilling out over your tongue, neatly running down your throat as you wait for him to still. His cock throbs with each shot of cum, swelling and jerking between your lips. When Joel sinks back into his chair again, you slip him out of your mouth and back under his boxershorts.
Your head lulls to the side, resting on his big thigh as you swallow him with a smile on your lips. His grip on your hair loosens, turns instead back to soft stroking, chest still panting as he comes back down. You watch him through glazed eyes; his shoulders rising and falling, breaths passing his lips like waves at the beach.
He’s twirling your hair gently around his finger, looking down at you like you’re made of twinkling gold dust.
Eventually, Joel takes a deep breath and sits up straight, beckoning you to do the same. He tucks his shirt back in, redoes his pants, then leans forward and hooks both hands under your arms, pulling you up to him.
You giggle as he lifts you onto his lap, straddling him with your knees either side of his waist. Your elbows rest on his shoulders, hands linking at the back of his neck.
His jaw turns upward, and you lower yours, your lips meeting in a soft embrace. You laugh against him, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, pushing yours into his.
“Better?” you ask once you part.
“Better, darlin’. Thank you.”
He kisses you again, a little more rushed, little less tender. Then his hands squeeze your ass and you squeal into his mouth, jumping up off of him.
You pass him his belt and lift the empty coffee mug off of his desk. “Refill?”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks,” he says, slipping the leather through his belt loops. His shoulders are lifted, tummy sucked in as he feeds it through. He almost looks cute.
You smile and then turn on your heels, wiping the corners of your mouth as you emerge from the office.
—————
“Is he comin’, or what?”
“Huh?”
Martha jerks her head in the direction of Joel’s office. She’s stood at your desk, hands on her hips, bag over her shoulder.
“He’s…Yeah, he said he would be. Let me go check.”
You close over the budget report file you’d been reading through and shimmy out from behind your desk, trying to amble as casually as possible over to the shuttered blinds.
You turn the handle, poking your head around the door.
He’s stood at his desk, raking a hand through his hair, top button of his shirt undone. Tie sitting loose around his collar. He spots you and gives an apologetic smile.
You comin’? you mouth.
Joel points to his phone. Some panicked voice fills the silence between you both.
“…so I gave the two of ‘em a tellin’; they shouldn’t make any more purchase orders without my permission. Without your permission, Joel, I mean…And about last month’s sales, too…”
You step over to his desk, slow, suspicious. Mischief on your mind.
“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.
You cock your head, brows furrowing. You’d been looking forward to lunch with Joel all day; something to take his mind off the meeting this morning.
Martha had called his favorite restaurant, they’d told her they had no space, she’d mentioned it was for Mr. Miller, and a table had magically opened up. Then you’d encouraged her to ask Deb, knowing she’d inevitably ask James, her admin assistant, and, before you knew it, your small lunch was a party of five.
Worked for you. You and Joel would probably be too caught up in each other’s company to notice the rest.
Except, the way things are looking, Joel isn’t getting off this call anytime soon. Soon meaning within the next thirty seconds, given the reservation is in ten minutes.
You’re growing desperate. Running out of time, knowing if you don’t do something to shut this guy the fuck up, your little daydream of sitting side by side with Joel, so close you can feel the heat off of him, feel his chest vibrate when he talks, maybe even feel his hand trailing up your thigh…won’t come true.
“What if you just…” Your fingers walk along Joel’s desktop, heading for his phone. “…lost…connection…?”
He doesn’t say a word, but the smirk that forms across his lips grants you all the permission you need. Your fingers clutch the receiver, lifting it barely an inch, then drop it back into its cradle. The panicked voice cuts.
“Oops.” You shrug, straightening up in front of Joel.
“Oops,” he repeats, wrapping his strong arms around your shoulders and pulling you into him again. You lift your jaw to kiss him only quickly, before you’re pushing yourself off of his chest and dragging him away from his desk.
“Sorry, Ken!” you call as Joel yanks the door open, the pair of you laughing like schoolkids.
You meet the others outside the building, huddled together at the bottom of the concrete steps. Deb puts her cigarette out on top of a trashcan when you both approach.
“Well, we thought you weren’t comin’,” she utters to Joel.
He lifts his eyebrows in response, hands slipping into his pockets, and glances around the group. “We goin’?”
“Waiting for your driver, Mr. CEO.” Martha winks.
“Aha,” Joel replies, face unmoving, “funny.”
“It’s, like, two blocks, we can walk,” you say, setting off down the street. Joel’s quick to follow, strolling at your side, but there’s a chorus of groans from the rest of your party. “Come on!” you yell over your shoulder.
“We’re supposed to be dining with the head of the fuckin’ company!” Martha cries, and Deb cackles.
“I gotta live like the rest of y’all sometimes,” Joel shrugs, walking backward, “keeps my feet rooted, doesn’t it?”
“I hate you,” you mutter, and he knocks into your shoulder with his own.
The Courtyard is bright, modern, and…beige. It’s only Joel’s favorite because it was a buddy of his from grad school who opened it, but you’re the only person he’s entrusted with that information. It’s decent food – they do a great chicken risotto – and it is always busy, so Drew must be doing alright with it.
You walk under a fake ivy plant covering the entrance, past twinkling fairy lights and to a rustic wooden reception area. Some hyper server comes bounding over and introduces himself as Jake, before Martha gives the name of the reservation and he batters it into a keyboard.
“Lopez?” you ask Martha, screwing your face up.
“Yeah. Comma Jennifer. I like to make it exciting.”
“If you wanted exciting, go for Beyoncé, or something. Lopez?”
“You really think Beyoncé is gonna come eat here?”
“You really think Jennifer Lopez is?”
She bats you away, turning her attention to Deb, who finds the JLo joke hilarious. When Jake springs off, beckoning you all to follow him, Joel leans in close to you.
“She used to use Pamela Anderson. Glad she’s evolved a little.”
You snort and follow Jake toward the same table Joel always sits at: the very back of the restaurant, quieter, separated by screens of more fake greenery. Windows looking out over the busy streets. Bare lightbulbs hanging from unnecessarily long wires over the tables.
Joel pulls your chair out for you and slots in beside you, on your right. Martha, Deb, and James – who hasn’t said or done much more than chortle at anything Joel’s said – sit opposite. Jake borderline frisbees the menus at you guys and tells you to give him a shout when you’re ready to order.
You turn to Joel who shakes his head, hand cupping his chin.
The five of you scan down the menus – at least, you, Joel and Martha pretend to. You’ve been coming here regularly enough for long enough that you know what you’ll inevitably end up ordering. James is asking Deb if the steak might fill him up too much before his squash practice later on tonight when you feel a familiar heat on your leg, and look past your menu to see Joel’s hand curving around your thigh.
You hold back a smile, pretending to be really into the laminated sheet in your hands. So long as he keeps it PG, and James keeps rabbiting on about squash being good for your hand-eye co-ordination, this is fine. This is…enjoyable.
This is exactly what you fucking wanted, when you organized lunch.
But when Jake returns to collect the menus under his arm then scurries back off, and Martha and Deb start discussing some TV show they’re both hooked on, Joel’s hand begins to rake higher. Taking the hem of your skirt with it. You suck in a deep breath, pretending to watch the two women and trying your best to listen to the words they’re saying, but he’s getting dangerously close to your–
“You ever try squash, Joel?”
“Huh?” Joel’s hand halts instantly. You exhale.
James is sitting forward, elbows on the table, nodding with a perfectly innocent smile on his face. “Squash. Yeah. I play every Friday evening, straight after work. It’s fantastic for shakin’ off that week-long stress, y’know? Not that workin’ here is a stress, but sometimes it can build up, sometimes you just need something to…” He balls his fists and jerks them, gritting his teeth.
You choke on a laugh and play it off as a cough.
Joel shifts a little in his seat, his palm still clamped around the top of your thigh. “Never played squash. More of a golfing guy.”
“That what you’re gonna do this weekend? Burn off all that stress you’ve had with a round of golf?” you ask Joel, lips almost trembling with the effort it’s taking you not to burst out laughing.
“Not what I had in mind, naw,” he almost spits back.
“Well, if you ever wanna try it, you know who to call. Squash, I mean. I mean – sorry, I don’t mean call squash. I mean call me. To try squash. You won’t find a better stress reliever.”
“Thanks, James,” Joel mutters, fingers fumbling with the cutlery on the table in front of him.
You could fucking burst. No better stress reliever than squash, right Joel? Nothing like it. Not even the one sitting next to you, her thigh under your grasp. Nope.
You’re thankful when Martha calls your name and averts your attention.
“You have got to watch it. I reckon she’d really love it, right?”
Deb nods eagerly.
“What’s that?” you ask.
They both start chirping away, describing the plot of some mystery thriller. It’s hard to keep up, what with them both speaking over one another, deciding which parts are safe to tell you and No, we can’t tell her that, that’s a spoiler, which actors are in it and how many episodes it took for them to really get into it.
Not to mention Joel’s hand, which has resumed its climb up your leg.
“There are three seasons,” Martha says, finger drawing shapes on her placemat, “and do not go lookin’ online for anything, because at the end of season two, there’s a massive death, and…”
Your thighs are bare again, skirt rolled up and held at the top of your legs by Joel’s wrist. He’s squeezing as he goes, massaging, driving you fucking insane as he adds more and more pressure. Still, your legs part for him the higher he goes.
“W-what– where can I watch it?” you ask, your eyes closing over as Joel’s fingers loosen their grip.
Deb says something, but it’s muffled. Drowned out by the ringing in your ears. Joel’s right hand sits under his chin, elbow propped on the table as if he’s musing over the weather or considering what to do with his weekend.
His left moves swiftly over to run along the elastic of your panties. Sift his thumb down below them. Fingers drop to cup you over the lace fabric. Suddenly, you’re sitting upright, your arms propping on the table, then falling to your lap, then one elbow up, then both down again.
What the fuck– how the fuck do you make this look casual? Being touched by your boss at lunch, with three colleagues sat opposite you?
Joel seems to be enjoying watching you squirm. You hear him breathe a laugh into his hand, and then his fingers begin to travel even further south, moving your panties to the side to sift through your folds.
Which are, regrettably, fucking soaked.
“Hm,” you hear Joel hum, and you can’t look at him. Knowing he’s found exactly what he was looking for. Knowing he’s achieved exactly what he set out to do.
You sit stunned, staying completely still for fear you might draw attention from your company. But then he’s dipping a finger in, pushing deep inside you, and your jaw falls loose, a silent moan escaping in the form of a sigh.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Martha addresses you and Joel, “as requested, flights organized. You leave for Paris next Friday morning, fly home Monday afternoon.”
“Yep,” you reply, shuddering slightly. “Sounds good.”
You’re not fucking listening to a word she’s saying.
“Thanks, Martha,” Joel says, as casual as if he were telling her the time. Almost bored.
You drop your hand and it clamps around Joel’s wrist; you’re sure you’re scratching him, but you don’t care. Not only does he deserve it, but it’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming out when he inserts a second finger.
The stretch is too much; he’s all the way in down to his knuckles, curling and then uncurling his fingers deep inside you. Your hips are slowly circling by instinct, rutting against his hand as it fucks you, sending fluttery waves of pleasure all over your body.
You ball up your fist, nails digging half-moons into the skin of your palm, attempting to fight the tidal wave fast approaching as Joel’s fingers snap harder into you, a third beckoning your orgasm nearer and nearer.
You’re there – right where he wants you, almost throwing your head back with the feeling he’s giving you. And then you make the mistake of looking at him, catching that ever so Joel smile when, shielded from the others by his hand, he breathes, “There’s my girl.”
It’s the last push. The last fucking shove.
Your walls clamp around his fist, your entire body screams, a scream that forcibly dies out in your throat as you lean forward and –
You slam your fist down on the tabletop, the sudden jolt of cutlery and glass making the three opposite you jump.
“Are you– what’s wrong?” Martha asks, leaning closer.
“Cr– fuck– cramp,” you mumble, eyes screwed shut, hand still gripping Joel’s wrist. He slowly drags his soaked fingers out of your tight cunt, casually maneuvering his arm back where it belongs whilst the table’s attention is still on your head and shoulders.
“Cramp?”
“My – fucking – leg. I’ll be – right back.” You’re almost hyperventilating as you shakily stand, shoving your chair back with your legs only for it to be caught by the hand Joel had inside you seconds before.
You waddle off to the front of the restaurant, nearly breaking out into a run when you reach the hallway leading to the restrooms. The door to the ladies room bursts open and you throw yourself against a sink, gripping onto the ceramic, chest heaving, shoulders hunched. Your cunt is still throbbing, waves of your orgasm slowly losing power and retreating.
You wave your hand under the faucet and cold water automatically flows, filling your cupped hands, cooling your blood, cooling your skin when you dab it onto your cheeks. You sigh with relief, leaning against the sink, catching pathetic glimpses of yourself in the mirror.
And then, the door pushes open. And his silhouette sneaks inside. He leans back against the wall, hands in his pockets. Face with a smirk you want to slap off of him.
���How’s the cramp?”
“Are you fucking–” You flick your hands toward him, splashing him with water as he throws an arm up to dodge it, laughing. That fucking laugh.
He wanders around you, looking your shaking body up and down, and comes to a halt with his chest against your back. His chin leans into your shoulder, and you look at each other in the mirror.
It takes everything in you to fight the smile growing on your lips, but when Joel mirrors it, you can’t help it.
“Fucker,” you whisper, and he kisses your shoulder. You lean back into him, ass pressing against him, feeling something you already suspected would be there.
“Feel what you did to me?” he asks, voice muffled into the cotton of your shirt.
“Mhm,” you reply, and you drop your hand to take the outline of him through his pants.
“You wanna fix it for me?”
Your head rolls back against his shoulder, smutty grin melting across your face. “Yeah, daddy.”
“Good girl,” he tells you, lips dragging across your neck, hands at his belt.
Your fingers clutch your skirt, still hiked halfway up your thighs, and pull it further. Joel’s hands replace yours on your hips and he shoves his pants apart, lining his bulge up with your core. Then his palm is at the bottom of your back, pushing you forward into position. Your knuckles whiten around the ceramic sink.
“Fuck,” you whisper when you feel his tip at your entrance. You’re already soaked through, no need for him to take his time. Not that you have time, anyway, with three coworkers out front waiting for the two of you.
Joel thrusts forward, entering you in one go, filling you up so fast you nearly double over. He keeps a tight grip on your hips, dragging you up and down the top of his cock a few times before slamming all the way into you again, eliciting a cry from your lips.
“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, low, dangerous. “Just gettin’ you warmed up.”
“Your hand wasn’t enough of a warmup?” you throw over your shoulder, and he takes your arms and pulls you flush against him.
“You gonna run that pretty mouth the entire time we’re in here, or you gonna let me fuck you?” he breathes around the shell of your ear.
“Both.”
You bite back a whimper when his hips buck into you painfully. A telling: don’t start.
Joel establishes a pace quick enough, both of you aware you can’t take too long in here. His grunts match the rate his body snaps against yours, your panting matches the rate you bounce up and down on him.
You’re watching the sight reflected in the mirror: Joel hooked around your shoulder, lips against your ear, whispering praises and filth, and you, leaning back against him, rutting on his hard cock with a thick smile on your lips.
“Daddy…” you whine, and Joel’s vice grip tightens even more.
“Good girl,” he pants, “so fuckin’ good for me.”
It’s not long before that heat is swirling around your core again, sparks of lightning jolting through the whirlwind of pleasure Joel’s hips create between yours. You take a hold of his arms for stability as you begin to feel your orgasm crest the horizon, knowing by the sounds he’s making in your ear that Joel isn’t far off, either.
“Cum in me,” you whimper, watching for his reaction in the mirror.
He pulls a face that’s almost…defeated. Groans like you’ve given him an impossible problem to solve.
You plead with your eyes. “Cum – in – me.”
It’s like you’re pressing on the weakest part of a porcelain vase; daring it to break. Daring it to fall apart. Joel knows he shouldn’t, knows it’s more sensible not to. But the way you look, body against his, whining and whimpering and fucking smiling right back at him – the way you feel, so warm and wet, squeezing him so tight he’s surprised he’s even lasted this long…
He can’t fucking help himself.
He moans and his hands clamp on your waist, forcing you forward as he ruts into you once, twice, three times before he’s twitching deep inside, warm seed spilling out and coating your walls. Your release floods over you, then, too, your head falling forward as your legs give for a few seconds, Joel’s grip the only thing keeping you upright.
Stars in your eyes, you pull the strength to lift your head and look at your reflection; Joel behind you, face to the ceiling as he slowly stills between your legs.
Your cunt throbs, and you move your hips back and forth gently, drawing a noise from Joel that you wish you could never stop hearing.
“Baby,” he lulls, looking down to watch as your dripping cunt rocks back and forth, taking him all and then letting him go again.
It’s a minute or so before you both return to reality. Bodies still connected, Joel places a steady kiss to your cheek. You lean into him, turning to place your lips against his. You’re both hot, sweaty, it’s probably pretty noticeable you just fucked.
And you don’t care.
Joel slips out of you and backs up, letting you fix yourself in the mirror as he stuffs himself back into his pants.
“You think you can walk back to the office?” he asks, smirking.
“Call Rand,” you reply, and his head tips back in a laugh.
He nods toward the door and the pair of you slip out discreetly, you first to check the coast is clear, and Joel right behind. You walk along the hallway, heels clicking, like you’ve just come across each other right outside the restrooms.
“Hey, Joel,” a voice says from behind you both as you wander past the bar.
“Drew,” Joel replies, and shakes the hand of a tall blonde guy in all black. His t-shirt’s so tight you can make out his pecs underneath it.
“How’s it goin’? You been in long?”
“Just waitin’ for our food,” Joel says, “it’s probably out by now.” He glances over at you and your legs clench subconsciously. He introduces you then, says, “My assistant. Best assistant I could ask for,” and your lungs close up.
Drew shakes your hand and then turns back to Joel. “Don’t go without catchin’ me, ain’t lettin’ you pay a thing. How’s business?”
Joel nods. “Good, good. We’re, uh, we’re heading out to Europe next week, so.”
“Jean-Marc?”
“Yep.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah. Place is lookin’ good, same as always.” Joel glances around, pointing randomly to the light fixture above your heads.
Drew does that thing men do when trapped in a dry conversation: folds his arms, looks to the floor, and nods some more. Waiting for Joel to say —
“Alright, well. Great seein’ you again. Thanks for lunch.”
He puts an arm around your back and guides you off back to the table.
“Nice meetin’ you.” You smile at Drew as you pass and he returns it, turning back to the bar.
Once you’re out of earshot, you look over to Joel.
“Something going on there?”
“Huh?”
You scoff. “You two couldn’t wait to be away from each other. Why’d you always come here if it’s so awkward?”
“Well, if I see ‘im, I get free food.”
You slap his arm as he pulls your chair back out for you.
“Feelin’ better?” Deb asks, pushing French fries around her plate.
You nod, pulling your seat in beside Joel, who’s still laughing at himself. As you settle, you feel the warmth he left behind spill out of you a little, pooling in your underwear. And Joel seems to notice, whether from some sexual sixth sense he has when it comes to you, or just the way you awkwardly shift in your seat. He hands you a smug smirk, nudging you with his elbow.
You narrow your eyes at him and turn back to Martha.
“So, you were saying you fixed the flights for Paris?”
----------
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#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#ceo!joel miller#ceo!joel#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#softdom!joel miller#softdom!joel
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🌞 Create <art, expression, a way of life> what makes you feel alive for your Sun.
🌙 Know what brings you comfort, and go where you are supported, for your Moon.
🌅 Start your day in a way that honors your rising sign.
🗣️ Research something for your Mercury. Also: put your thoughts into words (speaking or writing)
🌸 Embrace what brings you the most peace, or spend time in nature, for Venus.
❤️🔥 Move your body for your Mars!
🏹 Explore a new land/city/part of town or explore new philosophies and viewpoints for your Jupiter.
🪐 Set a goal that you will stick to working towards for your Saturn.
🆓 Speak up about what you see in society that doesn’t seem humane or like progress, for Uranus.
🔮 Prioritize empathy by withholding assumptions and have faith in what you can’t see, for Neptune.
💀 Identify any emotional attachments that aren’t good for you and let them die for your Pluto.
🐴 Face your fears for your Chiron (and you might just eventually find he feels bulletproof; this character can take all manners of injuries without dying!) ♥️
🌚 Know and exercise your worth for your Black Moon Lilith.
#astrology#planets in astrology#planets#astrology observations#astrology advice#spiritual health#astro tumblr#astrology community#zodiac signs#sun in astrology#moon in astrology#rising signs#chiron#black moon lilith
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