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lemonlover1110 · 3 days ago

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𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞

Zayne

Pairing: Professor!Zayne x Student!Reader

Summary: It'd be absurd to say that your professor stares at you in the middle of class, but you swear that Dr. Li is looking your way each and every lecture. Does he know what you think of him? It's no secret that he's about the most handsome man on campus but it'd still be embarrassing if he knew what you were thinking.

Warnings: Minors do not interact! Smut, Power Imbalance, Age gap, Teasing, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Office Sex, Creampie

*I've been cooking this for a while so I hope you guys enjoy🙂‍↕️

It might be your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear that your professor is constantly staring at you. The moment you step into the classroom, his eyes are on you. You make eye contact for a solid minute before Dr. Li tears his eyes away.

It’s impossible, right? You sit in an auditorium with damn near 200 other people, almost at the very back. He can’t be looking at you, you blend in with the crowd. But there’s that slight chance that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. There’s a chance that he’s staring at you, making direct eye contact during his lectures.

Just the mere thought of it cracks you up. Your crush on Dr. Li has gotten the best of you, and you’re slowly feeding into the delusions. A smart handsome man his age must be married; and you won’t even begin to mention how professional the man is. Dr. Zayne Li who won’t allow his students to refer to him as Zayne surely wouldn’t like one of his students. Certainly not in the manner that crosses your mind.

It’s fun to fantasize about it though. You drift into thought in the middle of lecture, thinking how nice it’d be to have a man like Zayne by your side. Maybe he can read your thoughts and that’s why you make eye contact ever so often– You feel your face get hot at the mere thought.

You know it’s impossible for a human to read thoughts but the moment you get those thoughts in public, you try to think of anything else. You try to focus on the dragged out lecture, attempting to memorize everything that you need to know. It never works though which is how you end up thinking about him again. And you make eye contact again. Every time.

“How do you think you did on the test?” Your friend asks you as you sit down beside her. You almost sigh at the mere mention of it, knowing that you didn’t excel. You want to say that you tried your best, but you procrastinated a little too much while you were supposed to be studying.

“All I knew was that artery means away, while vein is towards the heart.” You confess, and she shares your sorrows. The cardiac system isn’t your strong forte, at least you know that now. It’s a matter that you laugh at now but the moment you get back to your home you’ll be crying about your grade. Especially since this isn’t the first test that you haven’t done well on.

“I feel like he’ll give a crazy generous curve, no way someone aced that.” She comments, and you scoff. You both know that someone got a perfect score. Dr. Li doesn’t like to give out curves unless it’s absolutely necessary, therefore there’s no hope.

“If we pray hard enough.” You joke, bursting into laughter. You continue talking until the ambiance changes. You feel a chill run down your spine, and you immediately know that he’s in the room. Your eyes glue to him as you continue the conversation. He unravels the microphone before putting it on, making eye contact with you– Again.

“Do you think he’ll begin class with a speech? ‘I got the test scores and they’re subpar, I expect better from you all next test. It’s not going to be easier, come prepared.’” She mimics him, earning an awkward chuckle from you. You maintain that eye contact, furrowing your brows. Your eyes narrow as you try to figure it out… Is he actually looking at you?

“Yeah.” You stop paying attention to the conversation. The chatter promptly comes to an end as Dr. Li begins to address the class.

“The scores for the last test were… Rather low. However, there will be no curve since someone got a perfect score.” He announces, getting groans from everyone in the classroom. If only you could find that student and curse them for being so perfect. “If you have any questions, talk to me after class or during my office hours.”

“I know what I’m doing after class.” You tell her, your voice low, to not draw attention to yourself. She hums in agreement, sharing your same struggle.

You walk into Dr. Li’s office, knocking twice on the open door. His attention is drawn, looking up from his medical textbook. You give him an awkward smile, one that’s not reciprocated. He looks at you coldly, how he usually does. He’s not a very inviting person.

You would’ve talked to him after class but the line was too long, the wait wasn’t worth it. You’d be on campus during office hours, it was logical to come talk to him about your test scores.

“Close the door behind you.” He orders, and you hum in response. Once the door shuts, he adjusts his posture, shutting the textbook in front of him. Your breath gets caught up in your chest as you walk to the chair, sitting down across from him. “Here to view your exam?”

“Yes, I want to see where I stand in the class since–” Before you even get to finish your sentence, he pulls out the scantron and shows it to you. Your eyes widen, at the realization that Dr. Li knows your name, and they get even wider once you see the score on the test.

“You performed poorly.” He doesn’t sugar coat it, you barely hit double digits. You could cry out of embarrassment, but all your body manages to do is laugh. You laugh as if you found this hilarious– Which it sort of is. How you managed to do so horrible is beyond you.

“Is there something wrong?” He cocks an eyebrow in confusion, a little put off by your reaction. You try to hold back tears as you shake your head. “You know this means–”

“I’m failing the class, and I probably won’t pass.” You cut him off, and he gives you a subtle nod. You let out an exasperated sigh, unsure of what to do. You can’t drop the class now but it seems that’s the best option now.

“I’m willing to drop the exam if you perform better on the next one.” He says, and your eyes glimmer with hope at the opportunity he gives you. It doesn’t take a genius to know that you’ve performed badly on previous exams, which is why Dr. Li says, “You’ll have to study hard to ensure it goes better than the previous exams.”

“I study really hard.” You mention, though you know you could try a little harder. It’s not like he’s watching you study, so he can’t prove whether it’s true or not.

Instead of completely ignoring you, like anyone in his status would, he offers, “I can help you study.”

“I’m sorry?” You furrow your brows, knowing that’s well beyond his job. He doesn’t offer any help outside of class, the TAs are the ones that handle that.

“I can help you prepare for the exam.” He repeats, and you feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest. You feel your face get warm, recalling all the times where you’ve made eye contact and quickly looked away… Is it really all in your head?

“Are you sure? I know it’s– Thank you, Dr. Li. I’d love the help.” You end up agreeing, standing up from your chair. You won’t refuse the help, especially since the test comes directly from him. You need his help and a prayer to pass the class.

“Of course.” He hums, watching as you walk away. You feel like you can’t walk straight under his gaze, as if you had two left feet. You almost trip, but you catch yourself. Walking to the door shouldn’t be a hard task, but it’s almost like you’ve forgotten how to walk.

Maybe the problem with the exams isn’t your lack of knowledge but the fact that you seem to forget everything while you’re around the professor.

Monday 5:31 PM

Four days after meeting the professor, you go to a café a couple of miles away from campus. He made it clear it had to be away from campus, he doesn’t want any other student to ask for his help. You almost feel privileged that he’s offered to help you.

That feeling quickly fades when you enter the café and notice how upset the professor looks. Most of the time Dr. Li seems stoic, dare you say, indifferent. But right now he looks like he’s ready to give you a piece of his mind.

“Hi, thank you so much for–” You begin, approaching the table with your best smile. You’re trying to put aside the awkwardness that comes with having a one on one session with your professor.

“You’re late.” He points out, looking at his watch. You furrow your brows, checking the time. Yes, you’re late. By a minute.

You’re late by a minute.

“My apologies, I had to finish some homework and I guess I lost track of time.” You cut your losses. You know there’s no use in arguing, especially since he’s doing you a great favor by personally tutoring you. You are in the wrong in some manner, Dr. Li is a very busy man and he’s made time for you, the least you can do is be five minutes early.

“Don’t let it happen again.” He responds, making you nod in response.

“Would you like something to drink?” You offer before getting into business. He points at the half-empty boba tea on the table, and you furrow your brows in confusion. It catches you off guard. You’d bet on Dr. Li drinking black coffee and nothing else at a café, but he’s proved you wrong. It’s a nice surprise at least.

“Let’s get started.” He doesn’t bother wasting another minute before opening the textbook. You almost sigh, filling up with dread at the mere sight of it. But you have to deal with it. You’re not here to have fun.

Tuesday 8:15 PM

You would have sworn that tonight’s session would be short. He knows that you showed up to class, after all, you kept eye contact. You’ve been swamped with classes and exams, you expected him to make today short. It’s been almost three hours though and he keeps going on about the same subject.

“Don’t fall asleep on me.” Dr. Li comments as he watches you yawn. You hum in response, though that isn’t enough to satisfy him. “Get yourself a coffee, I can wait.”

“We don’t have much to cover, right?” You respond, hopeful that the night is almost over. You’re exhausted, and you won’t mention the absurd amount of homework you have to finish once you get home. You know he’s a busy man as well so you wonder why he stresses on the subject.

“Are you ready to stop?” He asks, and you quickly shake your head. As if you were scared of putting an end to the night. He’d typically keep going but he feels as if your answer is dishonest. “It’s alright if you’re ready to leave.”

“It’s okay–” You insist, quickly biting your tongue as you watch him take off his glasses. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he shuts his eyes. Turns out the man isn’t a robot like you once hypothesized. He might be too perfect to be true, but he’s very much real. He’s also tired from all of this, but he’s pushing through it to ensure that you’re getting the help you need.

An exaggerated yawn leaves your lips before you tell him, “Actually, yeah. I’m checked out for the day.”

Wednesday 7:02 PM

“Can I ask, Dr. Li, are you real?” Three days after the beginning of your tutoring, you’ve grown confident around Dr. Li. At least you’re comfortable enough to interrupt the session and ask him about something else.

“As in?” He cocks an eyebrow, unsure of what you ask him. He adjusts his posture, clearing his throat before speaking again, “I am made of organic matter just like you, if that’s what you’re inquiring.”

“You barely look phased, and I know you’ve had a very long day. I’m so exhausted and I only had one class today.” You comment, and his lips turn into a thin line.

“Is that your way of saying you’re done for the night?” He questions and you quickly shake your head. By no means is that what you’re trying to do, you’re just trying to have some kind of conversation with him. Something that doesn’t involve the urinary system.

“I just want to know how you do it. I’m still ready to learn.” You assure him, and he raises his eyebrows. He isn’t sure how to answer, that’s clear. You lower in voice, as if speaking in sin, “Is it caffeine?”

“Why are you speaking like that?” He questions, and you almost chuckle.

“I’m not sure, I just assumed that you wouldn’t be too happy with the suggestion.” You end up shrugging, looking back down at your notes. You’re just trying to treat him like a friend, even though he’s far from that.

“Like any adult, I consume caffeine. You see me drinking boba tea, no?” He replies, and you end up nodding. You’re looking away in shame.

“Yeah, whatever.” You end up nodding, grabbing your pen and attempting to continue the lesson.

Friday 6:04 PM

Dr. Li shuts the textbook a little too early, making your ears perk up. Your eyes light up, filled with hope at the thought that you’re already finished. You’ve grown used to the tutoring that the time passes in a flash– Except it doesn’t. When you check the time on your phone, only thirty minutes have passed.

“Is that all, Dr. Li? Only thirty minutes have passed.” You ask him, shooting yourself in the foot. You could easily walk out of the café doors and have a relaxing Friday night. You need a couple of hours where you aren’t thinking about your classes.

“I don’t want to swamp you with material.” The words that leave his lips are unexpected, catching you off guard. Dr. Li suddenly caring about the amount of content is shocking. This week has been rough, but he’s been talking for hours on end.

“Oh, I see.” You have a moment of clarity. You were foolish enough to think that Dr. Li is single. A handsome man his age definitely has a lady in his life. And to think you’re constantly daydreaming a life with him.

It’s so stupid. You’re so stupid. But it’s so fun, you can’t stop.

“You see what?” He’s confused, wondering what you mean.

“You have plans tonight with someone special.” You try to tease him, joking around with him. You hope that he won’t be as cold as the last time you tried to play around with him. He’s getting used to your personality, surely but slowly. He furrows his brows at your words, confused about what you’re trying to imply.

“You are the someone special.” He clears his throat, quickly realizing what he’s just said. “I apologize, that sounds inappropriate.”

“Then why are you ending the night so early?” You pry.

“I assume that you have someone special, and I don’t want to ruin your night.” He reveals, and you feel your face get hot. Your heart flutters, and it takes everything in you to not fawn over him.

You laugh. “You have me all for the night, Dr. Li.”

“Then I am a lucky man.” He bites his tongue when he realizes just how wrong that sounds. He won’t apologize for it though.

He opens the textbook. “Let’s continue.”

Sunday 2:51 PM

You don’t understand why he asks to meet you on a Sunday, when you’ve already covered all the content for the week. You’re well versed enough that you can answer any questions regarding the subject, so you don’t understand why he asks to meet you on a Sunday.

In your mind, you’re making up romantic scenarios. After months of denying it, Dr. Zayne Li will finally admit that he’s in love with you. You’re preparing yourself on how to react, even when you know it’s not going to happen. It never hurts to be ready.

“Dr. Li.” You smile at him, walking over to him. He sits at what has become your usual table. A table that’s right by the window. The sun rays usually don’t hit the professor by the time you’re in the café, but right now they illuminate his face. He looks softer than his usual cold self.

You note how he doesn’t carry the usual load of books nor his laptop which makes you assume that today’s lesson isn’t as intense– If there is a lesson. You sit down across from him, happily greeting him. You should be a bit more upset that he’s called you here on a Sunday, but you can’t bring yourself to be mad. Not only is he sacrificing his precious time to teach you, he’s too handsome for you to get mad at.

“Sorry for bothering you today but I want to make sure you’re ready.” He breaks your fantasies just as fast as you build them up. You slightly tilt your head to the side about to ask what he has up his sleeve but he beats you to it.

“A mock test?” You ask as you look down at the piece of paper he slides the paper to your side. You would laugh at your own absurdity but then you’d look stupid in front of him. To think you were fantasizing a love confession when the man won’t even let you call him by his first name.

“There’s a quiz this week, I want to see your progress.” He reveals.

“And if I do awful, what will you do?” You can’t help but ask, your confidence slowly fading. You know the content like the back of your hand but during the most stressful situations it’s easy to forget what the back of your hand looks like.

“It shows that maybe I’m not cut out for teaching.” He responds, and you laugh at his response. He’d really blame himself over your lack of knowledge; even when you thought you couldn’t like him more, he proves you wrong. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, asking, “What’s amusing?”

“Or maybe it means that I’m just dumb.”

“Nonsense, you’re brilliant.” He doesn’t miss a beat, and you feel your heart flutter. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing to you, and it drives you insane. For the rest of the day you’ll daydream about building the perfect life with him. So much for a schoolgirl crush.

“I’ll do my best then.” You try to act confident, reaching into your purse for a pencil. You came prepared for anything.

You take a deep breath before finally looking at the paper in front of you. You try to joke with him, hoping to ease the sudden nerves that flow through you, “Do I have to put my name on it?”

“Yes, I tutor too many students.” He attempts to joke right along with you, slowly getting adjusted to your personality. There’s no harm in playing along, it’s just playful banter.

“I’m your favorite one though, right?” You’re stepping on the line, testing just how far you can go. You give him your best smile, hoping to get the attention that you want.

“Of course.” He mutters two simple words yet so sweet to your ears. Words that could send you into a sugar rush. You grow uneasy, bouncing your leg as you stare down at the mock exam. Now you want to do bad with the intent of continuing this. You’ll happily take any crumbs that he’ll give you.

“Now that puts on a lot of pressure.” You chuckle. You read the first question before looking up at him. You lock eyes, feeling butterflies fill up your stomach. You watch as his pupils dilate at the sight of you. He would never show it but he’s definitely got a thing for you. There has to be a reason why you keep making eye contact, right?

You clear your throat before asking, “What happens if I do well?”

“Then this is over. We’ve been successful.” He answers, the last thing you want to hear. “I’ve already taught you all you need to know. You’ve passed the class.”

“What if I want to spend more time with you?” One wrong move, and you’re in trouble. Adrenaline makes you speak, forgetting all the possible consequences. Real punishment would be knowing you didn’t take your chance.

“Then you’ll ask me for coffee after you pass my class.” He tries to keep it appropriate. He’s not the type to break the rules, which is why his answer isn’t the one that you want to hear. You aren’t particularly upset about the response.

You aren’t upset, but you aren’t satisfied. You aren’t a patient person; you’ve waited long enough. There’s a smirk on your face before your shoe slips off from your foot. Your foot lands on his knees, slowly teasing up his leg. Dr. Li suddenly becomes stiff, cheeks turning red.

“I’ll do my best then.” You try to play innocent, knowing that you’re up to nothing appropriate. It’s scandalous, beyond inappropriate to do in a café, especially to your professor. It’s like you’ve woken up and become a new person with newfound confidence. A week ago you wouldn’t have ever dreamed of doing this.

You try to focus on the test in front of you, reading the questions ten times over as your foot gets higher and higher. You won’t touch anywhere inappropriate– not anywhere more inappropriate than where your foot is at least. You’re humming, trying to make it clear how focused you are on the paper in front of you. You make a spectacle of every response you make, almost giggling at how ridiculous you are. Not as ridiculous as he looks right now.

Dr. Li looks down in shame, unsure of what to do. One thing is sure, he’s not stopping you.

“Tell me when to stop, I don’t want to go over time.” He knows exactly what you’re trying to say, and he should take the opportunity to scold you. What you’re doing is beyond inappropriate. This is inappropriate.

But Zayne knows that he isn’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart. He’s not here because he saw a potential in you. He spotted a cute little thing in his class and while he tried to stay professional, how could he? He had the bait in front of him, it was up to you to latch on. It seems that it’s functioning the other way around though.

“There is no time limit.” He’s clearly flustered but he gives you approval to keep going. He surely can read between the lines, right? Either way, he can get your foot off his leg and he chooses to keep it there. You don’t cross the line, you won’t go higher than you need to.

Your eyes widen as you feel it. There’s a change in his pants, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Even if you fail the class, you’ve managed to succeed one way or another. You still won’t stop though, even if there’s a tent in his pants that you can’t quite help him with. You keep your foot steady, attempting to pay no mind to him.

The teasing doesn’t stop for a second, even when you know you can stop. You finally stop when you reach the final question. You slam the pencil down and slide the paper back to him. You slip your foot back into your shoe, happily going back to normal.

“So?” You cock your brow, slightly tilting your head and acting ever so innocently as if nothing has happened. You have done nothing wrong. You smile at him, “How did I do?”

He hasn’t even begun to look. He’s bright red, trying his best to calm down. You’ve gotten him hot, it’s hard to come down. He’ll for sure need a cold shower the moment he gets home, and he doesn’t know if that’ll be enough.

“You’re on the right track.” He ends up saying even when his eyes barely glance at the paper. The original purpose of all of this is now long forgotten. You could’ve written gibberish on the paper, but he’d never notice.

“Are we done then?” You fight off a smug smile as you get up from the seat. He subtly nods in response, knowing that if he speaks up then his voice might crack. You’ve got him nervous. You wave at him, acting ever so sweet, “I’ll see you on Tuesday then, Zayne.”

Thursday 3:53 PM

Four days after your last tutoring session with your professor, you find yourself at the entrance of his office again. This time around you aren’t concerned about your grade though, but over other matters. You feel your heart about to beat out of your chest as you get ready to face him.

You haven’t talked since Sunday. It’s not like he’s ignoring you, you keep making eye contact in the middle of class, both of you refusing to look away until Zayne moves on to the next topic. You wouldn’t say that your little stunt has turned things awkward at least. You’ve simply gone back to being one among the crowd. The way it should be.

“Zayne.” You poke your head into the office, catching the professor off guard. He’s staring at his phone inquisitively, eyebrows meeting in the middle. He adjusts his posture when he hears you, quickly putting his phone down. The frown doesn’t go away as he stares at you, curiosity taking over him as he realizes just how short the skirt you wear is. Not your usual type.

“Dr. Li.” He corrects you, signaling you to walk over. “Shut the door behind you.”

“You know, I feel like we’re past formalities.” You’re fighting off a smirk as you sway his way. You make your intentions clear the moment you step into the office, your words carrying clear intent. You watch his ears turn pink, quickly remembering the events of your last private encounter. He clears his throat, attempting his best to look unbothered.

“How can I help?” He bites his tongue the moment the question leaves his lips. It’s not a matter of help. You’re here to take what’s rightfully yours.

“I don’t know, how can you help?” You sit on his desk, making a show of crossing your legs. Forbidden fruit right in front of his very eyes. Just one caress away.

Your hand goes under his chin, tilting his head up to look right at you. He can nearly melt under the soft touch of your fingers. He tries to remain stoic but he looks at you with pure lust. You’re flattered, really.

“I want to thank you for your sacrifice.” You smile, and he looks at you in confusion. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, “I owe you big.”

“It’s really no–” He tries to remain professional. He really didn’t do it with an ulterior motive, he simply wanted to help a struggling student who caught his eye. He can’t even finish his sentence because within the blink of an eye, you get on your knees. “This is inappropriate.”

“So was Sunday, but you weren’t upset about it.” Your hands land on his belt, quickly undoing it. You look at him with doe eyes, almost as if you were the one receiving anything from this position. “It’s just a thank you and nothing else, professor.”

“Did you lock the door?” He asks, and you grin at the response.

“Of course.” You respond before he cups your face. Before you can make your next move, he leans down and kisses your lips ever so softly. He could almost fool you with what he truly wants, his intentions barely seeping through.

Your hands go to his collar, keeping him down and kissing him again. You’re lustful, unlike him. You have a clear motive and it transcends well onto your lips. He’s reluctant at first but he quickly matches the intensity in no time.

He’s breathless when you pull away, cheeks flushed. You’ve broken him down, again. Stoic professor Li is blushing under your touch. You look at him with lust filled eyes, “Let me thank you.”

You pull down his pants, biting your lip as you look at his length. You spit on his cock before your hand wraps around the base. You give him lazy strokes, getting him hard. A task that’s easier than what you expected.

You look up at him as you drag your tongue from the base to the tip. Your tongue circles around the tip, maintaining eye contact with him before lowering your head on his cock. He bites down his lip, trying his best to not make a sound.

His breath is caught up in his chest, scared that if he exhales an involuntary sound will escape. He has to remain composed and professional, even in the given situation. Even if your mouth is wrapped around his cock, bobbing your head at just the right pace. He’s happy that this isn’t something he doesn’t have to correct you on, you simply know.

You lift your head, making a faint pop sound as you take his cock out of your mouth. You make a mess, spitting on his cock again as you look at him with mischief in your gaze, “Am I doing good, Zayne?”

“It’s Dr. Li.” He scolds you. His hand goes under your chin, thumb wiping away the drool that dribbles down. Even if you look so beautiful as a mess, Zayne still prefers to see you all clean.

“Understood, professor.” You give him a subtle nod, fighting back a smirk before your mouth goes down to his balls. You suck on them while your hand lazily strokes his cock. That’s when you finally hear it– A low moan leaving his lip, a sign that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

Your mouth wraps around his cock again, hands stroking around the part where your mouth doesn’t reach. You’re looking up at him, seeking his approval but to your dismay his head is thrown back. Zayne’s lips are agape, the softest sounds leaving his lips. He’s nearing his release, that’s clear to you.

You lift your head again, just when he’s so close. You get up from your knees, lips landing on his. He’d be livid if your sweet lips weren’t on his. He quickly forgets about what you took from him.

“Fuck me.” You sit down on the desk again, spreading your legs. His eyes glisten in front of glory, and while he should scold you for how inappropriate it is to come to his office with no underwear but he cat’s got his tongue. He freezes, not daring to make a single move. A wrong move might wake him up from this wet dream, and he wants to stay in REM forever.

You break him out of his trance, grabbing his hand and moving it to your thigh. You show him just how real you are as his fingertips touch your soft skin. Zayne’s breath gets caught up in his chest as he finally stands up, lips landing on yours immediately. His hand creeps up under your skirt, caressing your skin as it gets dangerously close to its target.

“You don’t have to be gentle, I can take it.” You assure him as you pull away from the kiss. He kisses your jaw before his teeth nibble on your earlobe.

“I know you can,” his fingers run through your folds, feeling just how wet you are for him, “but I still want to be gentle with you.”

He runs the tip of his cock through your folds, teasing your entrance before slowly pushing himself inside of you. Zayne’s head tilts back, a breathy moan leaving his lips as he finally feels you around him. He needs a second to just process it all, to make sure he doesn’t get overwhelmed too fast.

“Are you okay? Can you handle it?” He asks when he bottoms out. You nod in response, though that isn’t enough to make him move. He cups your face, “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, I can handle it, professor.” You nod again, making his hands go to your hips as he begins to move. His movements start off slow, trying to find a steady rhythm.

You almost smirk at the sight in front of you. Your ever so professional Dr. Li, who won’t allow a student to call him anything else, is inside of you. It’s ironic that he still won’t let you use Zayne but right now that’s the least of your concerns.

“Is it good? Do you like it?” For once, he’s the one that seeks validation from you. You’d say that he’s wrapped around your finger, but you aren’t smug enough– But right now, he’s definitely under your command.

“It’s good.” You nod as a low moan leaves your lips. You quickly bite down your lip, fearing that you’ll get too loud with him. He just hits every right spot, it’s hard to contain yourself. He lifts up your leg, wrapping it around his waist, hitting just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as you gasp, “Right there!”

“Don’t be too loud.” He whispers into your ear. You bite down your lip as a hum leaves your body. You’d almost say he’s evil by the way he starts to play with your clit, and just like anything he does, it's perfect. And to think that after this you might have to go back to fucking awful frat boys that can’t even find your clit.

You study his face, watching a sheen sheet of sweat form on his body. Your bodies feel hot, burning up as you mesh together. Your breaths get heavy as you both get filled with pleasure.

Your hands meet at the back of his neck, digging into his skin as your body begins to get overwhelmed. Your foreheads press together while you both look down at where you both meet.

“Zayne.” His name leaves as a whisper as you slowly reach your high. You expect him to scold you for using his name but he’s too lost in you to notice. You quiver around him, reaching your orgasm.

He kisses you again, any sound drowned out by his lips. He’s slowly losing himself in you, losing control. His thrusts begin to get sloppy, knowing he won’t last much longer.

“You’re so perfect.” He pulls away, completely breathless. A grunt leaves his lips as he finishes, getting carried away and filling you up with his cum. He gives a couple more gentle thrusts before pulling out of you, his cum quickly oozing out of you.

You’re both breathless, standing in complete and utter silence for a minute before you fix your skirt. This was better than anything you could ever imagine. Nothing has even come close.

Zayne wipes your cheek, noticing how you’re a complete mess right now. You’re still beautiful, of course, but he knows it’ll look suspicious if anyone walks by and sees how you look. It’s clear that you were doing something else. However, wiping your cheek isn’t enough to fix the runny mascara and smudged lipstick on your face.

He’ll let it go, it’s not like someone would accuse him of having intercourse with his student. He’s far too strict for that.

“This was a lovely gift.” Zayne focuses on fixing himself, adjusting his pants before running his fingers through his hair. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Will you be willing to tutor me again?” You bat your eyelashes his way. The last thing you want is for this to be a one time thing. Oh god, the last thing you want is to look back at this whenever you’re laid up next to someone your age.

“Come to my office hours, I’ll happily help.” He answers, catching you off guard and pressing a kiss on your forehead. He helps you off his desk, giving you a subtle smile. “You’ve proved to be skillful.”

“And you as well, Dr. Li.” You wink at him as you walk to the door. You wave at him, and as your hand touches the doorknob, you feel the urge to ask the question. Your lust isn’t one sided, he just proved that, but there’s something else that bugs your mind. You wouldn’t have the heart to ask until now.

“Do you stare at me in the middle of class?” You blurt out.

He chuckles before nodding in response. “Always.”

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lemonlover1110 · 4 days ago

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Pairing: Toji x f!Reader

Summary: Toji will make it known just how sick he is.

Warnings: Fluff

*Here's Toji week day 2, hope you enjoy🙂‍↕️

Toji is as healthy as a horse, something that you’re happy about. Even when everyone in the house is sick while Toji brags about his wellbeing. Even when you hear his complaints about everyone around him sniffling and coughing. You’re happy about everything he has to say and do, as long as he isn’t sick.

It’s rare during the instances that he’s feeling under the weather, but when he is, he sure torments everyone. Sniffling and coughing isn’t enough, if Toji isn’t heard, he isn’t satisfied. He whines to anyone who��ll listen, and makes sure that the entire household suffers with him.

“Toji, dinner is almost ready, why don’t you come down and join us?” You poke your head into the bedroom as the man adjusts the towel on his forehead. He exaggerates a cough before sniffling.

“Can’t.” He keeps it simple, he’s made it clear enough.

“Is my little baby sick?” You tease, walking into the bedroom to sit down beside him. Anyone would think that he’s on his deathbed by the way he acts, but no, he’s got a simple cold.

“I’m not a baby.” He answers, getting all pouty by your words.

“That’s exactly what a baby would say.” A laugh leaves your lips but he doesn’t find the humor in anything. You lean down, about to kiss his cheek but he covers your mouth before succeeding.

He coughs, “Wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

“I already got the cold but I’m okay now–”

“You–” Toji prompts himself up on the bed, a frown on his face as he glares at you. He’s pointing his finger at you, ready to blame you for his condition. He suddenly forgets the fact that he’s supposed to be wailing and coughing his heart out. “You got me sick!”

“What?” You fight off a smirk, attempting your best to look innocent. “You’re as healthy as a horse! That’s what you claim.”

“You did this to me! I’m sick, I can’t even look at you.” He turns his head, avoiding your gaze. You laugh, kissing the top of his head.

“I made your favorite.” You share. The days of soup are over, after all, he’s been sick for damn near two weeks.

“You can keep it. I don’t want anything from you.” He quickly replies, not even giving it a thought. Though his stomach gives a different answer with a growl quickly following.

“Right, of course.” You giggle as you start to walk away. Pride is getting the best of him, but that’s easy to swallow as the hunger slowly consumes him.

He forces himself to get out of bed, forcing himself to let out a couple of coughs. He tries his best to guilt trip you. Unfortunately for him, it falls on deaf ears.

“I’m coming!”

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lemonlover1110 · 5 days ago

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji tries his best to enjoy beach day, even if it's vastly different than what they used to be

Warnings: Fluff

*Getting back into BG3 before Toji week was a bad mistake💀 here's day 1!! enjoy<3

Beach days aren’t like they used to be. Toji can no longer lust after his wife in a bikini because he has to watch over a brat who apparently can’t swim. Four years old and still can’t keep his head over the water, he should just let the brat drown. But no, he chooses to be responsible and sit in the sand with the kid.

“No, daddy.” Megumi scolds Toji who’s mindlessly staring at you. Toji, who is forced to make a sand castle with Megumi, can’t focus on the task at hand.

“What?” Toji looks back, a little taken back as his eyes land on the angry child. Megumi crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowed and a pouty face. Megumi huffs and puffs, yet he won’t say what’s wrong. “What is it, brat?”

Toji finally looks down at the bucket, realizing that most of it is full of water. He was just shoveling whatever he could grab. He throws the water back onto the ocean, attempting to do the task that the brat has assigned him.

“You suck.” Megumi gives the man attitude, something that would upset Toji if he hadn’t drifted into thought again. He’s watching you again as you lounge on the sand, reading your book. Oh what’d he do to go back in time, he’d enjoy this day like no other.

“Hey, why don’t you join–” Toji tries to get your attention, before getting hit with a bucket of sand. Toji sits in complete and utter silence for a minute before he spits out the sand that’s in his mouth.

“Megumi–” Toji stands up, wondering what the proper punishment is for what Megumi just did. There’s little thought to his actions, but he ends up stomping on the child’s hard work– And he’s filled with pride for a moment. A great teaching moment from Toji, until Megumi cries.

“Ma!” Megumi stands up and runs to you, crying about his destroyed sand castle (sand shed if Toji were to name it). You glare at Toji the moment Megumi comes to you, crying about how mean his daddy is.

“He started it!” Toji claims as he wipes some of the sand off his eyes. That isn’t going to cut it, he knows. Even the fact that he’s shirtless won’t help, that’s how upset you look.

“Toji, apologize to Megumi!” You yell at him, and he rolls his eyes. Next time he wants to come to the beach, he’ll drop off Megumi with the neighbor.

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lemonlover1110 · 21 days ago

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Pairing: Sylus x f!Reader

Summary: Sylus wasn't the type to show PDA but now he's a changed man.

Warnings: Fluff, Couples Bickering

*I was planning on updating Till Death Do Us Part and upload professor Zayne but the writing process is slow😩 Please be patient with me LMAOOO it should be out soon. Enjoy the Sylus drabble for now!!

Sylus isn’t particularly used to PDA, so it takes him by surprise the first time you hold his hand in public. You noticed a puzzled look in his face, and quickly let go. You didn’t intend to make him uncomfortable– Only for him to lock his fingers with yours, accepting the weird gesture on your end as an appreciation of him.

Now it’s rare for Sylus to not show you how much he adores you in public. As a matter of fact, if you don’t reciprocate he throws a subtle tantrum. When you let go of his hand to check your phone, Sylus purses his lips together before a scoff escapes his lips.

“Wait!” You shout as he begins to walk ahead. If you had known that not holding his hand would make him act like this, you wouldn’t have ever held his hands in public. “Sylus, I have to answer!”

“If that’s so important, I don’t have to be around while you answer it, sweetie.” He retorts, not bothering to look back as you try to catch up to him. His hands are now in his pockets, making it clear that now he doesn’t want to hold hands anymore.

“Sylus!” You call out, finally catching up to him, linking your arm with his to attempt to get on his good side again. It isn’t that easy. He doesn’t give in as easily as you had hoped. You mock him, pitching up your voice, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for my big baby to get upset.”

“Well he is. Now what, sweetie?” He responds, cocking his eyebrow as he looks down at you. You pucker up, trying your best to inch closer to him. You know Sylus and one thing about him: he can’t resist.

He leans down, about to meet you halfway. His lips are mere inches away from yours, and just as you feel his breath on your face, he pulls away.

“I have to check my phone real quick.” He announces, pulling out his phone from his pocket. Not a single message to check,since you’re the only one that checks up on him– But he’s happy as long as he gives you a taste of your own medicine.

“Asshole.” You end up walking ahead, making Sylus let out a dry laugh. It hurts to turn down a kiss but at least he’s proven his point.

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lemonlover1110 · 24 days ago

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Sup, I see that request are open, so I'm gonna take my chance while I got it 👀 (a closed mouth dont get fed sort to speak). I've had this zayne idea in my head for a while...it can be short if you want it to be. Mc is late in her pregnancy and she's having a tough time with her Braxton hicks (fake contractions that are normal in late pregnancy) at home, and zayne comforts her through it.

That's all I have...if you decide to do this (its no rush or anything) I appreciate it A WHOLE LOT!!

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: Zayne helps you through your pain

Warnings: Pregnancy, Braxton Hicks

*thank you for the pic, very much appreciated🙂‍↕️ hope you enjoy!!

Your breath hitches as you feel that cramping in your abdomen. You try your best to take deep breaths, hoping the pain will die down. But it's no use. The pain is persistent even if it is inconsistent.

You’re curled up in bed, trying your best to manage the pain. If fake contractions are this bad, you can’t even begin to fathom the actual thing. The mere thought of giving birth scares you– Knowing that the day is just around the corner absolutely terrifies you.

“Is everything alright, my love?” Zayne walks into the room to find you in complete pain. You’re taking deep breaths, trying your best to manage the pain. He doesn’t need to ask twice, he knows. You’ve been having this issue the last couple of weeks.

He sits down on the edge of the best, hand caressing your back in an attempt to comfort you. He asks to make sure, “Not the real thing, right?”

“No. He’s just teasing me.” You nearly cry out, the sound of your voice shattering his heart into pieces. Zayne purses his lips together, trying to figure out how to help. Movement tends to help with the pain but he knows that’s the last thing you want to do.

“He better know that he’s grounded until he’s 18 for doing this.” Zayne attempts to joke, and you’d laugh if you weren’t cramping. It slowly dies down, but you know it’s only a matter of time before the next one starts. They’re inconsistent, but they’re never-ending. At the very least the pain doesn’t get stronger.

“Grounded for life.” You add, trying to laugh it off even though you can’t. He presses a subtle kiss on your temple, trying to show his support. Slowly, it subsides; however, the relief doesn’t comfort you for long. You know it’s only a matter of time before the next one. They happen in batches, and you’re just in the beginning.

“Do you want me to run you a bath? It’ll help you relax.” He offers, and you hum in response. He gives you a sheepish smile before helping you sit up on the bed. Zayne kisses the top of your head before standing up. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

“I think I’m okay.” You reassure him.

“Your favorite book? Some chocolates?” He offers, and you shake your head. It breaks him to see you like this, especially knowing that he’s part of the reason why you’re in this state. “I’ll even give you some candies from my secret stash.”

“I’m okay, baby. I promise.” You tell him, chuckling as you get up from the bed.

“You can wait here, I’ll set up the bath.” He nearly darts out of the room to the bathroom, attempting to get a head start. You can’t help but laugh.

It’s comforting to know that at least you’re not alone.

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lemonlover1110 · 26 days ago

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Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family’s rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can’t do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + maoyaoyao519

Chapter 3 - Barista

Chapter Summary: Nanami loosens the reins just a little bit! - A/N: It's been forever! Nothing crazy here, but I'm ready to move the story along finally lol

In the office, Nanami eyes the booklet in his hold, his gaze hard as he tries to control the way his hands are trembling. He’s well aware that this book once belonged to his mother, that the message you couldn’t understand was likely meant for him, written in Danish for his eyes only. That’s why she had it hidden in the kitchen and not passed onto him in her will. She wanted him to find it one way or another. Mischievous until the very end. Nanami can’t help but shake his head. This book being found here just means she achieved her goal – to pique his curiosity.

He wants to read it, wants to know what his mother’s message says. But he can't.

What if they are parting words? What if they’re words of disappointment? She did have quite the tendency to nag when she was alive.

He’s not ready.

He’s not ready to receive what he assumes are words of encouragement and wishes of happiness, like his mother always gave him. He’s not ready because Nanami only feels discouraged and miserable. Every day that he steps foot into this damned bakery that he swore up and down he did not want, he regrets it. Well, regret is a strong word. His true struggle is that he dislikes change.

And he dislikes you because you represent all the change that he’s been having to take on. He’s used to the black and white of corporate Japan, not all the colors and sweetness that you’ve forced into his life. He wants no part in it. But he keeps coming back. For what? He doesn’t know.

Nanami sets the book on his desk, running his hands over his face to stop the tears from falling before they begin. Nanami hates this feeling, and hates grieving when grieving solves nothing. Crying will not save this bakery. Crying will not make him feel better. Crying will not bring back the dead.

What a waste it is to mourn.

He hates that you found this book. Why couldn't you have just done what he had asked you to? Why do you insist on trying to find ways to get under his skin?

No, that's not fair. You were doing what he’d asked you to do. You were trying, and if Nanami could be honest with himself, it was more than he had done. In the two days Nanami had known you, he’d been a bit of a dick. And that was an understatement. He had been an enormous asshole. But there was something about you that just…irked him.

He thinks about the way your face lit up with excitement showing him the booklet you had found. How you tried to follow the recipe to the best of your ability, but needed guidance, which you happily accepted when Nanami stepped in. Nanami could even see the wheels turning in your head, noting all the tips he was providing. Then he remembers the look on your face when he took the booklet and essentially told you to mind your own business after. The way you quickly tried to cover up how the smile fell from your lips.

It’s frustrating. You’re frustrating. You make Nanami so damn frustrated. You make Nanami literally roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty. Something he hasn’t done in so long, something he leaves up to his chef at home, something he would have never entertained until you showed up. He can’t stand it.

What is it about you that makes irks at Nanami so much, but also brings him to a place where he feels comfortable enough that you somehow made him want to help bake? That’s your job. Not his.

Nanami shakes his head. It doesn’t matter what it is.

He supposes he could be a bit nicer. Hell, he could be infinitely nicer. His personal issues did not need to be taken out on you. At this rate, you’d be quitting before the soft opening and he couldn’t have that. You were simply passionate about the job.

Nanami needs your drive, your passion, your recipes. Nanami just…needs you.

- - - - - - - -

The following weeks fly by.

You’ve developed a sort of strange dynamic with Nanami. At least compared to previous employers who were a lot more bubbly and talkative than your current boss. Just as Nanami requested, you show up, you bake and you leave. You’ve cut the small talk and the smiling that seems to put him in such terrible moods. He sets time blocks aside for you to meet and go over testing new recipes, then you make said recipes, and let Nanami try them. He marks off which he approves and which he wants to discard and that’s that.

You don’t really speak to him unless necessary.

You’re not too childish to admit that Nanami had hurt your feelings, and no verbal apology followed. Though you were pretty shocked to come into the bakery the next day and find the wienerbrød you and Nanami had prepped the previous day fully baked and decorated, sitting on a little plate in the kitchen. You were also pretty shocked to find that it had come out amazing, and you had to force yourself not to moan aloud at the first bite.

Maybe that was Nanami’s attempt at an apology? Even if it was, you were far too angry to receive it at the time. However, it did play a role in helping you to begin to let go of some of the frustration you felt for Nanami after how he spoke to you.

It’s probably as good as it’s going to get, so you accept it for what it is.

He had made his point loud and clear, and now you were respecting his wishes. As the days passed, you were able to get over it and understand that this is a job before anything else. You weren’t going to let Nanami chase you off.

You believe in this bakery and what it’s capable of. At some point in time, this place was a bustling destination. You’re excited to be a part of the journey to bring the vision you and Nanami have been creating to life. You don’t need to be friends with him in order for that to happen. You only need to do your job. You know what you bring to the table, what you have to offer to this bakery and not Nanami Kento. So you fulfill your duties, as requested and that seems to work for you. The awkwardness between you and Nanami doesn’t dim your light in the least. You still show up in good spirits, happy and thrilled that you’re able to do what you love.

Slowly, the bakery’s menu begins to take form beautifully with each passing day, with you and Nanami agreeing on keeping some of the original menu, adding your creations and - to your surprise - the wienerbrød that you and Nanami had made together.

There is still so much work to be done, but you’re getting there.

It's the end of day Friday when Nanami asks you to join him to go over the menu in the lobby. It’s noisy, construction workers in and out of the area as the remodeling has begun. Nanami has opted to keep a good portion of the original design, stating that it’s charming in its own way, but he’d like to modernize it slightly. You personally like the original look, but it’s his bakery. Perhaps, if Interior Designer was listed on your resume, you might have felt confident enough to voice your opinion, but given your history with Nanami, you thought it best to stick with what you know.

You sit across the table from Nanami as he reviews the changes you’ve handed him. He’s meticulous as always, making little notes next to menu items and ingredient suggestions, variations of items and even adds seasonal menu ideas for you to review later. You simply watch him, as you always do when you have these little meetings, and you wonder briefly how he was when he worked in the corporate world. When you meet like this, you think he looks so much like the businessman that he no longer is.

“I think this menu will do fine,” Nanami mutters as he slides the paper towards you. “For now.” He hardly looks your way before he’s scribbling something in his notebook. You flip through the pages of your own notes, eyes reading through everything until it lands on a suggestion circled in red pen.

BARISTA??

“Mr. Nanami.”

“Hm.”

“What do you think about coffee? Tea? Juices? Maybe smoothies?”

Nanami pauses his writing, eyeing you suspiciously. “I have a cup of black coffee at least twice a day. I enjoy tea occasionally.” He frowns, rubbing his chin in thought. “Don’t particularly care for juice, honestly. I don’t mind a smoothie every once in a while, either…if that’s what you’re asking.”

You swallow the laugh that threatens to bubble from your chest and shake your head. “No, I meant for the bakery.” It’s even harder to hold your giggles in when you see Nanami’s ears darken at least three shades of crimson, surely due to his previous answer. “While we have a great pastry menu, I think we should incorporate more than just bottled drinks. It’ll give the place a more personal feel, in my opinion.”

His head tilts to the side. “Will you be manning both the kitchen and the beverages, then?”

You scoff. “Hell no.” Your hand flies to cover your mouth when you see the way Nanami’s brows rise in response to your answer, though you think you see a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sorry. I just mean, I wouldn’t possibly be able to do both. But I think it’d be a good idea to hire a barista. Someone who is already experienced, maybe comes on the way I did…with a portfolio of beverages they’ve created. Something that will make us stand out among other bakeries and cafes here.”

Nanami gives you a curt nod, going back to scribbling in his journal and you lean forward just slightly. Just enough to see what he’s jotting down and barely making out the words HIRE BARISTA with several messy circles around the words. He flips his notebook shut, glancing quickly at his wristwatch. “Alright. I have to head to a meeting across town, but go ahead and put up a job posting for a barista. You can hire whoever you think is a good fit.”

You can hire whoever you think is a good fit? Whoever you want? He really trusts you enough to let you make that decision? Not too long ago, Nanami was getting on to you in the kitchen for being more involved than you should be. Now he’s leaving you in charge of hiring a barista?

It makes you smile, because you see it for what you think it is. It’s his way of extending an olive branch to you. His way of showing you that he’s open to trusting you.

This time, you refuse to give him a reason to doubt you or to give him something to be upset about. You’ll bring on the best damn barista to impress Nanami and show him that you are serious.

You’re excited to get to work immediately. Over the year, you’ve been fortunate enough to have worked in a variety of restaurants. The upscale michelin star many bakeries and bakerys, and you’ve networked your ass off over the years. There are so many talented connections you could reach out to and see where they are in their careers. Hopefully they’ll be open to coming on to this. You’d understand if they weren’t.

In all honesty, this entire venture is scary. It’s a risk, as well. Sometimes you feel like you’re an insane person (you are) to step into this mess and try to build something from scratch with a complete stranger. There’s a chance that this could fail. This little rundown bakery that you see so much potential and love in could go under, and you’d be back on the streets searching for your next place of employment.

But there’s also the chance that this could flourish, that the vision Nanami sees - that you see - breathes new life into this place. That’s why you took a chance on this place. That’s why you’ve been trying so hard and putting your blood, sweat and tears into this bakery.

Yes, you’re insane. Which means whoever else comes onboard needs to be just as out of their mind.

And you know just the person.

Nanami stands, tucking his journal neatly under his arm. “I’ll be back in—”

“Wait!” You shout, cutting him off, holding your hand up to stop him. “I can hire whoever? For the barista position?”

Nanami nods, eyes wide with surprise. “As long as they’re qualified. I…” He pauses, like he’s truly struggling to get the next words out, but he says them anyway and your heart races when he voices, “I trust your judgment, but don’t make me regret it.”

You ignore the last bit. That’s a given, because of course Nanami can’t compliment you without sprinkling in a hint of a threat. You don’t even care about that, your mind is still stuck on Nanami saying he trusts you. If anyone was able to take a peek into your brain, they’d see nothing but fireworks.

The smile on your face is wide, excitement in your eyes as you nod. “Okay! In that case, I have someone in mind.”

- - - - - - - -

The weekend comes and goes, just a blur of time where too much happens, but if someone were to ask you about the events of those two days, you wouldn’t recall a damn thing. You spend most of your time at the bakery anyway, which seems to be the norm these days. The next week flies by even faster than the last, and you think you’ve been home only to sleep, shower, and scream into the voice before you’re back at the store. A good chunk of your time is spent throwing together new ideas and recipes, trashing the ones that Nanami deems unacceptable and on phone calls with your prospective new barista trying to sway him into joining your mission. Rinse and repeat.

You’re quite surprised with how much freedom Nanami is giving you when it comes to selecting someone for this role. He hasn’t asked any questions, no check ins for progress, no grunts of irritation aimed towards you. You half expected him to have taken over the process and do it himself, but he seems to really be putting his trust in you.

To be fair, though, he has been rather busy with a plethora of other issues arising within the bakery.

It turns out the plumbing in the building had not been well maintained for some time. It took one construction worker spending way too much time in the bathroom and using more toilet paper than necessary to bring this issue to light. Needless to say, Nanami has been swept up in that issue and many others. Because of course, when it rains it pours.

There’s been leaks, electrical issues, pest control needed. This place is old. You know it was loved by the previous owner. You see that in the way the kitchen has been maintained and of course the little pieces of the prior owner you have found throughout your time here. So you wonder how it ended up in such poor condition. You don’t dare ask Nanami about it. You’ve given him his space to deal with these matters, the vein that seems to be permanently protruding from his forehead warning you to stay far out of his way unless necessary.

So you’ve been focused on the task at hand when you’re not glued to a stand mixer.

You have the perfect candidate for the new barista position. You know him already, have known him for years actually. He’s your friend, someone you used to work with at several different businesses. So you already know that he possesses the talent, passion, and drive that you’re looking for in a barista. And not to toot your own horn, but he reminds you a lot of yourself.

Well, now that you think about it, perhaps Nanami won’t exactly love the idea of two of you running around the bakery. You can already see that vein pulsing. Ah, who cares?! He left the choice up to you, didn’t he? You’ll bring on whoever you want!

It takes a little convincing, some begging and a promise of special pastries set aside for him at the end of every week for the first month, but after hearing the eagerness in your voice, there was no way your friend could turn you down. “I’ll be there,” he confirms quietly on the other end of your call. “Can you make those matcha things I like?”

“You got it.”

- - - - - - - -

Monday morning rolls around, and the bakery is alive with the construction work taking place on the plumbing system. You can hardly hear your own thoughts over the rough, loud pounding of the jackhammer tearing the floor tiles apart next to the bathrooms.

Nanami stands fairly close, arms folded over his chest while he peers down at the clipboard the contractor is holding. He points and wags his fingers where appropriate and the contractor takes notes. It seems they’re going over prospective tile designs so that they can have supplies ordered and get it all replaced as soon as possible.

Nanami truly is an admirable businessman. He never wants to leave any gaps in time where there is nothing being worked on. You like that about him.

“Good morning, Mr. Nanami,” you greet your boss first, and then the contractor who gives you a polite nod.

“I’ll get the final numbers crunched and then sent over to you before placing any orders, Mr. Nanami,” he tells him, and Nanami simply nods in agreement. The contractor takes his leave, heading back to his employees to oversee the work.

“I have someone I’d like you to meet,” you announce happily, gesturing to the tall, dark figure beside you.

Nanami spins on his heel, the multiple dollar signs he’d just been assaulted by still making his head throb. His head was beginning to spin the more the contractor pointed out was broken in this place. So for once, he’s grateful for one of your interruptions. But it’s the person who stands next to you that catches his interest.

Nanami gives him a once over quickly, unimpressed with his appearance.

Dressed in a dark t-shirt and dark baggy jeans that look like they’ve seen better days, stands a man with long, brown hair that messily frames his face. He’s eerily pale and looks worn down, the exhaustion that has made a home beneath his eyes dark enough to rival Nanami’s. You’re beaming up at him with hardly concealed joy as you introduce who Nanami assumes is your chosen hire. “This is Choso,” you announce happily, and the man extends his arm in greeting.

Nanami’s eyes dart down to his hand, the chipped purple nail polish having Nanami make a mental note to have him remove it. It takes quite a bit of effort to keep the scowl threatening to appear at bay.

Just who the hell did you bring here?

His hand wraps around Choso’s, firm grip shaking the other man's.

“A pleasure,” he lies.

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lemonlover1110 · 29 days ago

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Sukuna

Summary: It seems that Sukuna's daughter gets a lot of her traits from him.

Warnings: Fluff

What an attitude, who could she possibly get that from? Sukuna thinks to himself as he tells his toddler to clean up. It was just a simple request, yet the little girl huffs and puffs. She stomps her little feet as she walks over to fill up the toy chest.

“Fix your attitude!” Sukuna scolds her, yet she sticks out her tongue and blows a raspberry. He can’t believe he’s bickering with a toddler– His own daughter dare he mention. He shouldn’t even be doing this. He should leave her with the mess and let you deal with it. It’s your mess anyway, you’re the one that wants a tidy house and all that shit.

“Don’t be a fucking brat!” He’s intimidating, he knows that. Everyone around him fears him, except this tiny creature that probably eats her own boogers. No matter how many times he raises his voice or threatens her favorite toys, she never backs down.

She yells some nonsense about not being a brat, barely understanding what the word means. It could be a good thing, but as long as she goes against what Sukuna says, she’s happy.

“You’re not even cleaning up, just making a mess!” Sukuna scolds her, getting involved and helping her in the task.

“Fuck you!” She yells, and Sukuna freezes. His breath gets caught up in his chest as he slowly turns his head to look at his toddler. He feels a cold sweat flow through his body, heart palpitating at the mere thought of you hearing your daughter saying such a phrase.

It’s not just any phrase that she could pick up from the TV. It’s a phrase that she picked up from him. He’s as good as dead.

“Don’t say that.” He tries to remain calm, finally noticing that raising his voice won’t make the toddler listen. He adds, “It’s a bad word.”

“You say it.” And with her words it dawns on him that he’s the reason for her behavior. Her tiny brows meet in the middle in confusion.

“I’m an adult, princess. Don’t say that, period. Especially around your mommy.” Sukuna uses the nickname, one that he revokes the moment she gets all bratty. He hopes that with the change in behavior, she’ll listen. She gets all giggly, hiding her smile behind her tiny palms as she realizes that she has a way to get her daddy in trouble.

Before another word gets exchanged, the door to the playroom opens. Sukuna feels his palms sweaty, as if he were ready to face his death. He knows his toddler better than anyone– Dare he say better than you. He knows he’s done for.

“Mommy, mommy!” She yells, getting your attention. The smile on your face quickly fades when she says the two magic words,

“Fuck you!”

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lemonlover1110 · 1 month ago

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𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨 𝐔𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭

Sylus

[Chapter 1] No Way Out

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Sylus x f!Reader

Story Warnings: Angst, Smut, Arranged Marriage, Second Chances, Infidelity

Chapter Warnings: None

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Your husband doesn’t care if you live or die, it’s all the same to him. You’re no one of importance to him, he’s made it clear. After nearly five years of marriage, he barely remembers your name. Sylus has never, and will never care about you– It hurt a little at first, you won’t lie, but now you’ve grown indifferent to his treatment.

Since the beginning you knew the marriage was out of convenience. Sylus sought power that only your family could bring to him so he made a deal that they couldn’t refuse. You never got the details about it, you just knew you were the bargaining chip. You were thrown in the middle even though you aren’t allowed to know what’s going on.

You were upset at first. You threw tantrums, demanding an answer from someone. Anyone. Yet no one spoke up. However, the marriage didn’t upset you as much as it should’ve. You were finally free from the birdcage, given a false sense of freedom as Sylus took you under his wing.

Freedom. You almost scoff at the mere thought of it. Your prison just grew in size, but you are in no way free. He doesn’t care if you live or die but he does care if you escape. There’s someone constantly watching you, no matter where you’re at.

Sylus controls everything and everyone in the perimeter. You can’t even have a proper conversation with a stranger because they know who you are, and they want to maintain their distance. Sylus can’t even look you in the eye but he still manages to control everything in your life.

When you first got married to him, you thought you could handle it, but your patience has grown thin over the years. It’s gotten to the point where you can’t handle it. You seek freedom, and you’ll do just about anything to get a taste of it. Which is why you plan to leave Sylus, one way or another.

Tonight will be the night that you ask Sylus for a divorce. Even if he won’t grant it to you, you’ll still lay the concrete and make it clear that you want out. Even if it’s his sole decision. You have no say in a marriage you were forced into, but you hope that maybe luck will be on your side. Maybe by introducing the idea, Sylus will let you go.

There’s only one thing that feels nearly impossible: getting a moment alone with Sylus.

Lighting doesn’t strike twice in the same place, and neither does Sylus. You see him once a week, and he’s never alone. It’s always at a different time, a different day– Never consistent.

“Luke, will Sylus come around tonight?” You question as you watch the twin slouch on your couch, playing a video game. You stay out of his way, not blocking his view of the television, allowing him to remain focused on his game. That’s your first mistake, Luke barely even acknowledges you’re there because he’s too occupied with his game.

“Luke.” You call out to him again, and he glances at you for a moment before his eyes land on the television again.

“Online game, can’t pause.” He informs you, making you click your tongue.

“Is Sylus coming yes or no?” You repeat your question, knowing that he doesn’t need to look at you to answer. Either he knows or he doesn’t.

“Boss man? I don’t know.” You’re not sure if he’s lying through his teeth or being honest, but you don’t care enough to look into it. The twins are always covering up for Sylus, asking them anything is useless.

“Luke.” Your voice gets stern as your eyes land on the electrical cord. He can ignore you all he wants, but he’ll definitely change his mind once you realize you have the upper hand. When he looks at you again, he sees a threat. He freezes, and he sighs. You don’t have to keep exchanging words.

“He’ll come around tonight. He’s going to be late though.” He panics as he sees your hand get dangerously to the cord. He knows better.

“How late?” You ask, and he shrugs. You end up giving him a subtle nod before turning on your heel and leaving him alone. You’ll just stay up, no matter how late he is. If you don’t tell him tonight, the courage might leave your body the next time you have a chance.

Your eyes are shutting on their own as you wait for your husband. You’re trying your best to fight your sleep, but it’s winning. Luke must’ve warned Sylus to not come home tonight because you’d be waiting. To think a man his size is scared of you– You also are just getting into your head about it when Luke could’ve just lied to you.

You think about giving in until the loud sound of footsteps begin to approach your room. Your eyes are knocked wide awake, and you adjust your posture. You try to look lively, as if you weren’t about to fall asleep. You stand up from the couch, reaching for your class of wine and bringing it up to your lips. You try your best to look nonchalant.

“Heard you wanted to speak to me.” His voice sends a chill down your spine. You want to say that you’ve gotten used to it, but it’s rare to actually hear it.

Your breath is caught up in your chest before you turn around to finally face him. Sylus glares down at you with tired eyes, exhausted from the day– Already tired from what you have to say. He looks the same as always. Sylus never really changes; in five years you haven’t noticed a single hair out of place. Maybe you don’t notice a change because you barely see him, but by a simple comparison with your wedding photos, he still looks the same.

He perks up his brow, waiting for you to finally respond. He can’t idly stand by for hours as he waits for you to answer. He tries to give you some leeway, noting that you’re nervous. It’s hard not to notice when the nerves radiate from your body, even if you’re trying your best to suppress them. Your body gives subtle hints. No matter how stoic you try to be, there’s a tremor that you can’t get rid of.

“Well then, what is it? I don’t have all day.” Sylus is getting annoyed. He’s trying not to yawn as he waits for you to speak.

Except that the courage that you had earlier has faded and now you’re trying your best to come up with the right words. You take a deep breath as you stare at your husband. He’s looking into your soul, trying to decipher what you’re up to.

You can’t back down now, even if your heart is racing. He knows you want to talk about something, and it’s clearly something important since you’ve waited for him. He watches your every move, waiting for you to get something out.

“Well?” He insists.

“I want a divorce.” You finally spit out, eyes looking anywhere but at him. You aren’t brave enough to actually look at him to watch his reaction. Even though you know he won’t care, there’s a twinge of hope in you that he’ll care– And that hope controls your actions, forcing you to look away.

“I beg your pardon?” He responds, making you look up at him. His brows are furrowed in confusion, as he tries to decipher what you just said to him. He takes a moment to think about it, as if his ears are deceiving him. But no, he heard you right.

“Sylus, I think it’s time for me– For us to end this. There’s no point in this, and I’m tired.” You admit, nervously rambling. Your feelings get the best of you, and the confidence you had imagined during this moment is nowhere to be found. “I just feel like that’s the best thing for us. We’re not like an actual married couple–”

The words stop flowing out of your mouth the moment you hear a cold laugh leave his lips. You bite your tongue as you wait for him to say something. You look at him with hopeful eyes, hoping that he’ll agree to your request. But you know better.

“A divorce?” He questions with a mocking tone in his voice. He looks at you with contempt, almost feeling pity for you. “Sweetie, what do you think a divorce is?”

“I’m not stupid.” You answer, rolling your eyes at his response. “I want out of whatever we have–”

“You don’t get to decide that you want a divorce, the same way you didn’t get a choice in marrying me.” He interrupts you, his words getting under your skin. You should’ve expected it. You know that getting out of your situation isn’t easy. But hearing the words leave his lips makes your blood boil.

“It’s unfair!” You raise your voice as Sylus laughs. He turns around and begins to walk away, putting an end to the conversation. Unluckily for him, you aren’t quite done and you won’t let him leave so fast. You follow after him, nearly yelling, “Sylus, I’m speaking to you!”

“Life’s unfair, kitten. Get used to it.” You roll your eyes at his response, and you almost curse yourself for continuing the conversation. The nickname he gives you makes you seethe.

“Kitten? Seriously?” You scoff, almost getting sidetracked. Until you remember that there’s bigger issues at hand. “I feel like a prisoner, Sylus!”

“I believe that’s what they call marriage.” He argues, amused by his own response. He wants to get you off his tail before moving any farther, so he stops in his tracks.

“We’re not a married couple! We don’t have dinner together, we don’t speak to each other, we don’t sleep in the same bed– We don’t have sex! We haven’t had sex!” You raise your voice, making a fuss over something he finds utterly amusing.

“Sex?” He raises a brow, fighting back a smirk.

“Yes, sex!” You shout, making him let out a chuckle. He grabs your wrist, forcing your hand on his chest.

“You want sex? Is that it, kitten?” He leans down, making your face get warm out of pure embarrassment. Your words click as he repeats them.

“No!” You shake your head, jerking your hand out of his grasp. You look at the ground in shame as he laughs.

“What is it then, sweetie? You complain we don’t have sex, but when I ask if that’s what you desire, you tell me no. So?” He responds, and you feel your face burn up. You want to crawl in a hole and hide away forever. Perhaps you shouldn’t have brought that aspect of marriage up, but it’s a little too late to take back your words.

“I just mean that–” You stammer, unsure how to proceed. He’s caught you with your tail between your legs. You bite your tongue before nodding in defeat. “I just want a divorce, Sylus. I deserve romance, love, consideration– And the most basic thing of all, respect.”

“I respect you.” He argues, making you laugh for once.

“Respect? Your response to me asking for a divorce was undermining me. You asked me if I knew what a divorce is.” You point out, and he clicks his tongue. He doesn’t have the energy for this.

“I’m not in the mood, sweetie.” He sighs, turning around to leave you once again. Only this time, he doesn’t care if you keep chasing him. He’ll shut the door in your face, forcing you to go away.

“Of course you aren’t. Whatever helps you, Sylus.” You keep your heels on the ground, refusing to step any further. You can’t keep arguing with him when it’s clear that you want different things, at least tonight. Maybe tonight he’ll sleep on it and reflect on what he truly wants. Hopefully when he wakes up tomorrow, he’ll grant you liberty.

But you know things won’t be so easy, especially not with Sylus.

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lemonlover1110 · 1 month ago

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji refuses to wear glasses.

Warnings: MDNI! Suggestive content

Toji will refuse to acknowledge it, but it’s that time. It’s clear to anyone but him. He squints at every corner, you can’t even hand him a menu to read. He puts damn near a mile distance between him and whatever he needs to read.

He needs it. It’s vehemently clear. He needs reading glasses.

“Toji, baby, I have a gift for you.” You hide the box behind your back, trying to play it off. He might need the reading glasses, but he’ll refuse the gift each and every time. Toji doesn’t like to admit that he’s getting older, even if that comes with the consequence of not seeing.

“Hmmm…? Gift?” You’ve piqued his interest. He furrows his brows, trying to decipher what you’re hiding behind your back. What could you possibly be holding in your hands?

“Promise me you won’t get mad.” You begin, holding out one hand, sticking out your pinky. Now he doesn’t like the sound of that.

“What are you up to?” He asks, hesitantly sticking out his pinky. He enlaces it with yours before you show him the box. Immediately, he hates it because he knows. He snatches the box from your hands and tosses it. “I don’t need them.”

“Toji!” You yell, grabbing the box again. You open it, grabbing the glasses and attempting to put them on his face– A meek attempt when you’re up against Toji.

“No! No! I don’t need them!” He yells, trying to fight you off as you try to put them on him.

“Yes you do! I’m sick of this!” You yell back, and by a miracle, you succeed. You get the glasses on Toji, and you try to restrain his hands. He won’t take them off.

“I’m sick of you, woman! I don’t need these damn glasses!” He tries to argue, but you quickly look for something that will prove him wrong. Your eyes finally land on a magazine that lays around, and you try your best to grab it before he can take off the glasses.

“Read this!” You shove it in his face, and he shuts his eyes.

“No.” He refuses.

“Please.” You drag it out, trying to sound as sweet as possible. “New glasses means you can take a better look at the twins.”

“What twins– Oh.” The mood shifts, and Toji bites his tongue. He lets out a sigh before letting out a nod. “Fine.”

Except he tosses the magazine to the side. He doesn’t need a magazine to test them out. He lifts up your shirt to prove your point, and he cocks an eyebrow. He doesn’t like to prove anyone right, but perhaps this time you had a point.

“What do you think?” You ask, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“I’m never taking them off.”

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lemonlover1110 · 1 month ago

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𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Caleb x f!Reader

Story Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Parenthood, Ex-husband!Caleb, Colonel!Caleb, Second Chances, Co-Parenting

Summary: Caleb really tries to move on, but everything he does leads him back to you. He misses the family that you once had, and what he remembers as the perfect relationship. Caleb will do everything in his power to get that back, even if it's clear that you don't want the emotional liability of being with him.

*Sorry, I don't do taglists♡

*If you think you've seen this before, you probably have🙂‍↕️ posting from my old account

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

[Chapter 1] Star of the Night

[Chapter 2]

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lemonlover1110 · 1 month ago

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Zayne

Summary: Zayne's daughter comes to him with a surprise

Warnings: Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

“Daddy.” A loud whisper interrupts Zayne’s focus, tearing his eyes away from his book. He furrows his brows as he looks at his little girl, walking to him with a closed fist. He’ll try to remain confident as she walks over. It almost feels like a threat.

“Jasmine, if that’s a bug, throw it out.” He warns her, feeling as if his heart is about to beat out of his chest. Zayne isn’t particularly scared of bugs, but Jasmine just happens to find the biggest ones– At least she won’t need anyone to save her from them.

“Mommy’s asleep.” She answers, walking over to him and opening her hand. She reveals two pieces of candy that she had managed to steal from your purse. The strawberry bon bons that her grandma usually gives her when she visits; the same ones that you hold for safekeeping.

“My love, we shouldn’t.” Zayne shakes his head as she walks over to him, crawling onto his lap. You’d be so upset right now if you saw them. Jasmine is taking candy from your purse, and Zayne is enabling it.

“It’s okay, she has a lot.” She reassures him, but that’s not his issue. Twenty years into the future, this will be something that they’ll be able to tell and laugh about, but right now he sweats.

“You can’t do this, my love. It’s stealing.” He reprimands her as he takes the wrapped candy. It won’t be the last one this happens, especially not when Zayne unwraps the candy and pops it into his mouth.

“It won’t.” She nods, a serious look on her face as she affirms her understanding. She still follows her father’s lead, and unwraps the candy.

“And after you finish, brush your teeth, okay? You can’t leave a trace behind.” Zayne tells her, and she nods once again, taking his words very seriously. He lets out a low chuckle before kissing her temple. At least she’s considerate enough to think of him.

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lemonlover1110 · 1 month ago

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𝐓𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐨 𝐔𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Sylus x f!Reader

Story Warnings: Angst, Smut, Arranged Marriage, Second Chances, Infidelity

This chapter of your life has officially ended– At least that’s what you’re trying to get across. You no longer want to be married to Sylus. There’s only one issue, you don’t have the option to end a marriage that you never wanted.

While you try everything in your power to end your marriage, your husband tries to find the missing piece.

[Chapter 1]

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lemonlover1110 · 1 month ago

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Kento Nanami

Summary: Four years ago, Kento Nanami became a father, the best gift that he could have possibly received.

Warnings: Fluff

*Happy birthday, Nanamin🥹❤️

“Look at you, you’re almost as tall as me now.” Kento comments as he marks the wall. He feels tears well up in his eyes as he looks over the markings on the wall. It’s become a yearly tradition, and he always has the same reaction– To think that someone can grow so much within four years.

“But you’re this big, daddy!” His little girl exclaims, stretching her arms to display just how tall Kento is. He laughs and hums in agreement before picking her up from the floor, a task that’s gotten infinitely harder.

“Next birthday we might be the same height.” He claims, kissing her cheek before he lifts her up in the air. His pride and joy. He’ll try his best not to cry at the thought that next birthday she might be too big for him to pick up. Luckily Kento is a very strong man, the years will come but he’ll still manage to lift his baby girl from the floor.

“Your turn!” She yells, and he laughs.

“My turn?” He questions, and she nods in response. Since she gets measured every year on her birthday, it’s only fair that Kento goes through the same thing.

“Yes.” She nods, grabbing her stool for some extra inches– The only issue is that it won’t be enough. Kento is much taller than that, but he’ll find a way to help his baby girl. She goes to his side, getting on her stool and on her tippy toes yet that still isn’t enough.

He bends his knees, attempting to help her out. With that boost, she’s able to mark his height. Kento has a subtle smile on his lips as his baby girl cheers her success.

“How old are you now, daddy?” She asks, wanting to mark the age just as her daddy does. She still can’t write very well, but she’ll make an attempt.

“Old.” He answers as he takes the marker from her hands. She doesn’t need to know an exact number because then Kento won’t want to celebrate the day, and that’s the last thing he wants. He cherishes the day because it’s not only his birthday but the day he became a father to the most adorable little girl.

He picks her up, kissing her temple. He brushes the hair out of her forehead before suggesting, “Let’s check on mommy, okay? She’s making our cake.”

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lemonlover1110 · 2 months ago

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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji finally meets his son for the first time, and he isn't sure what to do.

Warnings: Fluff

Toji’s hands are shaky as he looks down at the little bean. That’s the nickname you gave him the moment you found out about him, and here he is. So frail and weak, Toji can’t hold him yet. What if he hurts the baby?

The man looks at you for reassurance, even when you can barely keep your eyes open. You’re tired.

“It’s okay, Toji.” You tell him, watching as he towers over the bassinet. He cut the umbilical cord but that’s as much as he’s done. He’s never been scared of fucking up like this before. It’s adorable from your point of view. “He’s much stronger than he looks.”

“Yeah, he looks pretty weak.” Toji awkwardly laughs, trying to mask his nerves. You end up chuckling as you prompt yourself up on the bed. You pick up the baby from the bassinet and coo at him. He’s peacefully sleeping.

“He’s just the cutest little bean.” You pitch your voice, looking down at your son. You then look at Toji, softly smiling before asking, “Why don’t you hold him?”

“I’ve never held a baby before.” He confesses, and you laugh yet again. That’s why you’re there to teach him– You also delivered the baby but that’s besides the point. You try to make space for Toji to sit, a difficult task considering his large size; just enough for him to not fall over.

“Come here.” You pat the space beside you, and he furrows his brows before following your order. You hand him the baby without thinking twice, forcing him to finally hold his son. He has no other option but to try now. He stares down at the baby, dumbfounded.

“Make sure to support his head.” You comment, completely missing Toji's lips quiver. You’re adjusting his arms, making sure the baby is held correctly. You’re too focused on the wrong things. You’re missing how Toji falls in love with the little bean.

Toji tries to take a deep breath, remembering that he can’t cry. He can’t be weak, not in front of you. But it’s hard to contain himself right now. Not when he’s finally getting something that he’s waited his whole life for– Something he didn’t even know he wanted.

“He’s so stupidly cute.” You hear his voice break, and you finally look to see the tears that have welled up in his eyes. They’re on the brink of spilling, but he manages to hold them back. He’ll do everything in his power to not cry though the task is increasingly hard.

“Aw, Toji.” You kiss his cheek as a bright smile comes to your lips. Toji’s eyes linger on the bean, in disbelief that this is his life. That little bean is his son.

Your head rests on his shoulder, eyes staring down at the baby. It took an entire day of hard labor, and nine months of discomfort, but your family is family complete.

“What do you want to name him?” You ask.

“Megumi.” He answers, a subtle smile coming to his lips as a singular tear falls. You wipe it away, quickly kissing the spot. It’s perfect– This, the name, everything. He affirms, “Megumi fits him.”

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lemonlover1110 · 2 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: Your husband just wants a taste...

Warnings: Minors do not interact! Smut, Lactation Kink, Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

“Be careful, it’s hot.” Zayne warns you as he puts the soup in front of you. He grabs your son from your arms, giving you a chance to eat in peace. You smile at him, watching as Zayne bounces your baby boy in his arms.

When you found out about your pregnancy, you didn’t expect Zayne to be the perfect husband and father, but he’s proved you wrong. You couldn’t be happier by the results, and you truly wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. He’s there for whatever you need. You want to say that it started since you found out you were expecting, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Zayne has always been exceptional.

“He’s teething.” Zayne comments, noting the swollen red gums of his baby boy. That does explain the drool all over the house. Zayne kisses the top of the baby’s head before he begins to search for a remedy that will help with the discomfort.

“Poor little thing, he’s been so fussy lately.” You respond, watching as Zayne opens every cabinet to find something to help his son with the discomfort. “I heard that if you rub–”

“No whiskey, no scotch.” He quickly cuts you off, practically reading your mind. You can’t help but chuckle.

“What’s in the soup, by the way?” You ask as Zayne finally finds something that will help the baby with his ailments. Zayne has a hint of a smirk on his face before he answers,

“I can’t reveal my special ingredient.”

“Is it something I hate?” Your eyebrows come together, trying to figure out your husband’s trick. Zayne walks over to you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

“It helps with your milk supply.” He shares. “It’s also tasty.”

“I’m assuming there’s something in here that I don’t like since you refuse to tell me.” You comment, bringing the spoon up to your lips. It’s for the best, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. “Don’t tell me.”

“I won’t.” He answers as his baby drops what’s in his hand, making a loud thud as it hits the ground. The baby whines as Zayne leans down to pick it up. Zayne tries to give it back to him, but crying ensues. “Seems like it’s time for a nap.”

“I can–” You hurriedly stand up, wiping your mouth before walking over to Zayne. Zayne shakes his head.

“Finish your meal, I can handle our son.” He reassures you, as he shushes the baby. You take a seat, watching as Zayne walks away with the baby. He’s got it under control.

Your day is a bit intense. Your baby boy is not only fussy, but you can’t figure him out. Zayne got him something to help with his gums, but the baby tossed it the moment it was in his hands. He cried yet he didn't want food, warmth nor sleep. He only calmed down during his bath but the moment he was out of the water, the cries continued.

But finally, he gave out. Zayne successfully put him to sleep, giving you the rest of the night off. You’re able to do nothing for the rest of the night– Or until your baby boy decides that he needs something.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” You ask as you walk out of the bathroom, securing your towel before going to the dresser. Zayne lays down in your bed, comfortably reading his book, until his attention is drawn elsewhere.

“Your towel is slipping.” Zayne points out as you lean down to get some pajamas. You laugh. As if it mattered. In a matter of seconds you’ll get naked to put on your pajamas.

“Thank you, my love. I know.” You answer as you put down your clothes on the edge of the bed. He can’t take his eyes off you, staring at the bit of skin you show. He stares like a starved man. “Is that a no to the movie?”

“I’m in the mood for something else.” He reveals, a smirk forming on your lips. You can tell that he is, it’s written all over his face. You sway over to him, trying to act all innocent as your hand goes under his chin.

“Can you show me what it is?” You ask before your lips go down to peck his own. Zayne feels his chest get heavy with an unexpected rise in temperature. The room is suddenly hot.

“Aren’t you tired?” He responds, not wanting to push you over the edge. He looks at you with hopeful eyes, a look that’s hard for you to reject. It’s a good thing that you still have energy for this; you always do.

“If I was, would I be here?” You take a seat on the edge of the bed, one tug away from letting your towel fall. Zayne still takes a moment to read your expression, a meek attempt to figure out what you’re really feeling. Before he can do anything, you bring your lips to his ear and whisper, “We really don’t know the next time we’ll be able to–”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Zayne pulls your head back and kisses you. His tongue enters your mouth, pressing against yours as his hand goes to your back. You’re overpowering, simply with one kiss you’re able to dull all of his senses.

Your back is pressed against the mattress as Zayne gets on top of you. He pulls away, looking down at you with lustful eyes before his hand tugs the towel. His breath hitches before his lips land on yours again.

“Right there–” You whimper as he sucks on your sweet spot. Zayne doesn’t spend too much time on your neck though, he’s set his eyes on something else. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck until he finally reaches your breasts.

He kisses your breasts, clearly restrained. He’s kissing you subtly, touches that you barely feel. It’s been like this lately, he barely touches your boobs when he’s obsessed with them.

“Zayne.” You call out to him, making him stop. He patiently words for you to speak, to give him the green light again. “You can touch them.”

“Huh?” He furrows his eyebrows as you grab one of his hands and move it down to your boob. It squeezes it as a reflex. He bites down his lip before ensuring, “You’ll be okay with this?”

“Yeah.” You reassure him, nodding in response. Zayne doesn’t waste a second before dipping his head, tongue circling around your nipple before his lips wrap around it. He actually sucks, getting some of your milk in his mouth. He keeps sucking while one hand goes down to your pussy, two fingers running through your slick folds.

He pushes two fingers into your cunt as he continues to drink your milk. You shut your eyes as pleasure slowly consumes you. It feels better than what you could’ve imagined– And it seems that Zayne is enjoying himself. Zayne finally unlatches from your tit, but he doesn’t waste too much time before wrapping his mouth around your other boob.

He’s flicking his tongue on your nipple before he sucks. He’s been starved for too long, he’ll stop when he’s satisfied. He likes it enough to keep his mouth on your tit and continue drinking. The feeling of pleasure quickly becomes overwhelming as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt.

“Zayne–” You moan, your back arching as he gets the best of you. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

He moans against your tit, telling you just how much he’s enjoying this. He’s curving his fingers, hitting just the right spot. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, hips bucking while he treats your body so right.

“It’s too much!” Your voice is loud and clear. Your orgasm builds up and quickly washes over you. Zayne would usually praise you for coming all over his fingers, but his mouth is too preoccupied to say anything.

He continues sucking until he’s satisfied. He lifts his head up, a fulfilled look in his eye. But he’s going to be greedy. He’ll try to get more, until he can’t handle it.

Zayne pulls down his pants, pumping his cock before running the tip through your folds. His breath gets caught up in his chest as he slowly pushes himself inside of you. You shut your eyes and bite down on your lip as his cock stretches you out. He gives you a second when he bottoms out.

Zayne begins to move his hips, moving slowly but steadily picking up speed. You look perfect while you’re under him. He’s already so worked up from doing nothing, he doubts he’ll last too long. There’s nothing that he likes more than the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.

“Zayne…” You moan, your back arches as you take it all. He’s hitting all the right spots, making you weak. After your first orgasm it’s hard for you to contain yourself. You’re still sensitive and he’ll use that to his advantage. Your hands grip the bed sheets as Zayne’s thrusts get faster and faster.

“You’re so perfect.” His nose buries in the crook of your neck as one hand goes down to play your clit. You’re squeezing around him, already too much for you to handle.

Zayne’s lips land on your nipple again, sucking on your tit. His thrusts lose momentum, unable to focus on two things at once– It’s no issue with you, you’re already in a state of euphoria. You’re cursing under your breath, feeling yourself get so close already.

“Zayne!” You reach your climax again, making a mess all over his cock. Zayne finally unlatches, licking up some of the milk that drips out, ensuring it doesn’t go to waste.

His movements get sloppy, knowing this fight wouldn’t last long since the beginning. Zayne groans as he empties himself inside of you, thrusts stopping when he knows every last drop is inside of you. When he finally pulls out, he falls down right beside you, completely out of breath.

You’re a mess again, and you just got out of the shower. You chuckle at the realization, and your husband can’t help but ask, “What is it?”

“I have to shower again.” You answer, and he laughs with you.

“Sorry.” He can’t help but apologize, making you click your tongue.

“I started it.” You say, something which he can’t argue against.

You lay down in silence for a moment before you narrow your eyes and stare at him. You’re trying to figure it out, and he has no idea what you’re trying to do.

“What?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Did you like it?” You hide back a smirk as you watch his face turn redder than it already is. That’s your answer.

Needless to say it won’t be the last time it happens.

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