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#sorry this took me a hot minute to respond to

heart-of-the-morningstar · 21 hours

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Brand New One Shot - Last Preview

Last preview before I post the full thing either later tonight or tomorrow! No active warnings but the cliffhanger is suggestive~

"Stay...please..." you managed to respond. You made your way over to your bed and gestured for him to follow. You sat down crossed legged near the edge of the bed, Lucifer mirroring your actions. You took a deep breath before speaking once more. "I'm not angry with you, you know."

A strange mixture shock and confusion flashed across Lucifer's face. "Y-You're not?"

You smiled wearily. "No, I promise. I mean, I'm a little taken aback..." Lucifer winced. "...but not in a bad way! If anything, I feel...flattered, you know?" Your face burned at your own candor. A quick glance at him showed he felt the same heat in his own cheeks.

"R-Regardless," Lucifer cleared his throat, "it was still wrong of me. I could try to give excuses about...my ex-wife being gone for more than 7 years now, or tell you that watching you from afar just sparked something in me that I hadn't felt in God know how long, or..."

"You've been watching me?" you teased, flashing him a small grin.

"Shhhhit, well, I uhh...only sometimes!" Lucifer tried to reason. "A-And not for very long! I just, umm, I just noticed how kind you are with everyone you come into contact with, and you're extremely helpful when it comes to the hotel! And your smile...I MEAN, uhh, C-Charlie absolutely adores you with the way she goes on and on about your progress! We both wonder how you even ended up down here in the first place. And well, you...you're," he gulped, "you're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on..."

You sat there frozen, your body trembling slightly. Your mind raced a million miles a minute. You tried to get your mouth so form any sort of words, but nothing. Lucifer started to panic.

"I-I'm sorry! That was really forward of me! I shouldn't have-I uhh...God, this is the worst fucking apology imaginable!" Lucifer brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes and lowering his head. "Maybe it would be best if I just g-MMPH!"

You don't know what came over you, but somehow your lips crashed into Lucifer's. His hands flew from his face, now gripping the bed sheets beneath him. He sat perfectly still, but only for a moment. He couldn't help but give into you, letting his eyelids flutter closed and melting under the kiss. You pulled away after only a few seconds, Lucifer leaning his head forward slightly, still needing more. His crimson irises had grown into saucers, his face hot as the sun. Having the literal King of Hell flustered beyond belief from a single kiss was a sight you absolutely wanted to see more of.

"If you think I'm beautiful, then you are someone who is beyond beauty, your majesty," you cooed. You weren't completely sure where this sudden burst of boldness had sprung from, but you liked it. And from what you were witnessing, all signs pointed to Lucifer being completely enamored with it as well.

You went back to your seated position, but now Lucifer was on all fours, crawling ever so slowly towards you. "P-Please..." he begged, "I-I need more..." His face was now mere inches away. He rested his forehead on yours, waiting for your lips to touch his again.

"You want me to kiss you again?" you asked playfully. "Then you need to tell me something, darling."

Lucifer's breathing had picked up at the sound the pet name you'd given him, his eyes screwed shut. "A-Anything!"

"Tell me then," you said as you began to stroke his soft blond hair, "what were you thinking about when you were touching yourself to me?"

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #preview #hehehehehe get cliffhangered losers!!#jk i love you all <3

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mister-eames · 5 months

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sitting here thinking what made eames snap at arthur “your condensation AS ALWAYS is much appreciated arthur thank you” what’s the back story what’s the hidden angst I’m dying here

This, reeks to me of at least one significant incident in the past of one of them shooting down the others idea shall we say 'gently, with a chainsaw.'

Maybe their last job together, before the Fischer job. Arthur was having a bad day, you know, like a rare and real Bad Day. His brain was too loud, his back was in pain, he had a burgeoning migraine, their extractor had fucked off so now Arthur was trying to fill two roles, his mom is very sick, and he has calculations of her medical bills interfering with actual calculations for the job. You know when you're at peak stress? Like you have 18 things to cross off your list before you can even think about a food break, and you just don't have the time to consider taking a breath, or delegating the tasks, you just have tunnel vision, your blood sugar is low, you just need to get through this and you need a radius of silence around you? I think Eames got in the way of that. He was probably trying to help Arthur out and volunteered an idea for the job and was shot down gently, with a (metaphorical) chainsaw. Arthur probably felt bad for it by the time the job was done and paid Eames some pithy compliment like, 'you did good' and Eames, who has been subjected to a terse and surly Arthur for a week thinks the compliment isn't genuine, is forced, hence the 'condescension' remark. Eames shrugs it all off. He doesn't need Arthur to stroke his ego, he knows his worth. It'd just be nice, is all.

Also, this may sound weird, but I also think it's also a very cute kind of thing that they do. They pick something to attribute to one another and it almost becomes a game. "Your sarcasm, Arthur, as always, is much appreciated." "Your inane ramblings, Eames, is much appreciated, thank you." "Your lack of enthusiasm, is much appreciated." "Your tardiness--" 'Your stubornness" -- and perhaps it slowly, slowly it starts to get kinder. There's a few "Your resourcefulness is---" and "Your creativity is---" until, until.....

#i am so sorry it took me a hot minute to respond #i was in le hospital for a no bueno weekend #anyway #this was a thought provoking ask and it kept me distracted so thank you!#inception #arthur x eames #these two play word games all the time #they get worked up and do nasty things with each other over crosswords and scrabble and wordle nolan told me so #dont know why my brain went there but its canon now

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jimmyjrsmusoems · 2 months

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Tina and Jimmy Jr will always be meant to be in my heart 🥺❤️ I loved them since he was first introduced in "Sheesh, Cab Bob? "And I will always ship them to the end.

i feel the exact same way!! 🥰 "sheesh! cab, bob?" permanently altered my brain chemistry back in 2011, and is still one of my favorite episodes to this day!! (how could it not be??? just look at them!!! they're such babies in this episode 😭)

#thank you for sending me this!!! and sorry it took me a hot minute to respond - couldn't stop giggling and kicking my feet about them oops #sheesh! cab bob #tinimmy #ask

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journey-to-the-attic · 6 months

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sdjbfkdshk i 4got that saying thot instead of thought isn't just an inside joke me n my friends have sorry 😭 ✋ i would never call you a thot (unless u wanted me too...)

that aside the angst is SOOOO good bro (gn). i was thinking actually that if ik is stained by the brothers' sins maybe she starts mirroring what they did when they had their sin stuff going on?? like bc levi went to hide in the lake maybe ik goes to there (and then levi has to fish her out before she drowns herself 😭)

i was acc thinking belphie would do the puttin to sleep part?? like he has special avatar of sloth magic. idk i was just imagining ik spiralling and he like hugs her and uses his magic to just sort of gently get her to rest...

can we get an amen for dadcifer though 🙏 he must be absolutely going thru it rn his poor daughter

no worries! i wouldn't really have minded either way, to be honest

that aside - these are really cute (and also really sad)!! i really like idea of belphie being the one to put her to sleep actually, he probably has some kind of special sloth magic that he'd use to watch over her dreams or something to keep her sleep peaceful :')

also yeah lucifer would be having such a bad time. he's been having a bad time since he first getting the whole pride flare-up thing, with only a brief period of relief between recovering and ik abruptly going off the deep end. he's probably blaming himself entirely for this happening (seeing the state ik was in before being put to sleep is probably one of the few things that could make him shed a tear)

i have been thinking on and off about how ik's whole situation would be resolved! and this is admittedly sorta similar to 'the long nightmare' in jtta, but the idea is that the brothers (+solomon bc i think his relationship with ik is especially important in this nightbringer situation) would enter her 'inner world' using some kind of ritual originating with sonno (ik's in deep sleep at this point, sonno's whole thing is dreams)

basically once in ik's own dreamscape (so to speak), she's been split into seven 'fragments', each holding and/or representing a piece of her soul - each brother encounters a fragment that's trapped in an empty memory of when she was trying to save each of them -asmo's is digging through the shattered remains of the glass coffin he was asleep in, satan's is wandering in the castle where he had his whole d&d showdown with his brothers, mammon's is hiding in the celestial realm's gardens

the idea is that the brothers have to do for the fragments as ik did for them at the time, thus removing the 'stain' of their sin. at that point the ik apparition disappears, and they're left with what i'm picturing as a sort of crystal piece? once each brother has recovered their fragment, solomon puts them back together - puts her 'soul' back together - which brings back their ik as they know her, without the sins affecting her, but still with her own personal anguish in tow

at that point i think solomon would reassure her (i can imagine ik would be afraid of waking up and facing everything again), lucifer in particular would probably have a moment to properly apologise. basically it's all very sappy and then the crystal pieces properly meld together - putting ik's 'heart' back together - at which point she wakes up

(i feel like there's a fnaf 'i will put you back together joke' to be made here)

#answering asks #anon asks #ik gets nightbrought #sorry this took a hot minute i saved this to finish responding to later and then forgot about it #on another note i was feeling weirdly out of sync all day at work and i only realised like an hour ago that it's bc the clocks went back #why the hell do we do that again >:#makes me wonder how barbatos would feel about it. mr time-is-immovable and all that #watching humans just go 'nah that doesn't match up. we think it should be like THIS' twice a year #i imagine there'd be some begrudging respect but mostly confusion. like why do you guys do that

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ikkaku-of-heart · 7 months

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@seraphiixa asked: "Well, well, well... Look who it is..." said Lyra with a smile, delighting in the appearance of an old friend.

It was safe to say that Ikkaku hated most Marines. The reasons stemmed from a brother who tormented her as a child and grew up to become one, mixed with a fair amount of her ex-smuggler grandfather's own disdain for them being a major influence. But generally, when asked about Marines, Ikkaku would claim they were all hypocrites, self-serving, arrogant bullies who didn't give a shit about "justice" and were no better than the pirates they claimed to hunt.

There were, however, a few very rare exceptions. And Lyra the Angel was one of them.

The engineer beamed brightly at the greeting, and didn't even hesitate to embrace the other woman. It had been too long, and for all she liked to claim she didn't give a shit if a Marine got killed in battle or eaten by a Sea King, she liked Lyra and could admit the seas were probably a little safer while she was around. Hopefully there was no looking to report her for fraternizing with the enemy or any such crap.

"It's been ages!" Ikkaku laughed, hugging Lyra tightly. "I was almost worried you'd gotten yourself killed or something. 'Course, you getting taken down probably would've been all over the papers, so no news was good news, right?"

#seraphiixa #The Engine is the Heart of the Ship (canon)#Like Oil and Water - Marines #(sorry this took me a hot minute to respond to but I'm hugging you like Ikkaku is Lyra!)#(good to see you both again!!!)

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justablah56 · 9 months

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i'm alive again and so are you now we can be happy and frolick togetber

ee hee yay :]

#also sorry it took me a hot minute to respond to this i am Reading Fanfic<3

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autisticlenaluthor · 9 months

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Hello, I'm yet to update myself on Five More Minutes (I plan to read it from the start up to the new chapter after I finish some other stuff), but I just remembered something!!! I just wanted to let you know that that fic is so good, and the research you put into it was so obvious and done so rightfully (is that worded right?), that it was living in my mind so when I had to write this short play for class, I had the mindset of 'I'm going to do this right and represent cancer and the life of a kid with it authentically, I'll do my research and put in dedication and effort just like Rory.', resulting in a script I'm pretty proud of and a VERY detailed logbook of research. So, yeah, just wanted to say your fic writing actually motivated me for my assessment and served as a little inspiration, so, thanks. :)

thank you so much for this i can't even tell you how many times I've reread it

i love that you wanted to represent childhood cancer and that my fic inspired you with the research, like omg that's the coolest thing ever, I'm so glad I could be that inspiration for you!!

#also im so sorry it took me a hot minute to respond to this #the verbal thing has been going in and out lol

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scoutdoesstuff · 2 years

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Sending best wishes to you and your family! I hope you can take the time you need to get through this and take care of yourself ❤️

thank you so much nonny 💜

#sorry it took me a hot minute to respond #but thank you so much for the message #the blogger speaks

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slutforleeminho · 5 months

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“i wanna try something.” you breathed out between the hot and messy kisses you were giving minho, his hands gripping your waist tighter and pulling your hips down against his clothed bulge. he was already so hard, it amazed you how you could do the bare minimum and he would be fully erect in just minutes.

“whatever you want, baby.” he looked at you with so much love and admiration. that’s how he always responded to your requests, inside and outside the bedroom. ‘whatever you want, if i have it it’s yours.’ and then he’d kiss you until you forgot what it was you were even asking of him.

“you don’t even know what it is yet. how can you be so sure that you’ll want to?” you moved away from his lips to his neck, leaving little love bites as you went. he sighed when you sucked on the little sensitive spot behind his ear.

“oh baby, it isn’t in my blood to say no to you, especially when you’re sitting on top of me like this. you could tie me down to this bed right now and take me however you wanted and i wouldn’t refuse.” his brows were furrowed and eyes screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips on his skin. he looked so fucked out, which made you wonder if he was just saying those things and not actually meaning them. but you refused to pass this moment up without at least trying. so you sat straight up, separating your top half from his. his eyes shot open and searched you face for the answer as to why you stopped. “did i say something wrong? i’m sorry, love, i didn’t-”

“no, you said exactly what i wanted to hear.” you smirked down at him, waiting for him to realize what you meant and when his eyes widened and you felt his dick twitch through his thin sweatpants you knew he understood. “would you like that? for me to cuff you this bed and have my way with you,” you asked in the most innocent voice you could, a big contrast to your words. “use you however i please.” your words went straight to his throbbing cock.

“yes. fuck, baby please.” his eyes were full of lust and anticipation, his voice so quiet and submissive that you didn’t recognize this person under you at all. you didn’t respond verbally, settling on silently removing yourself from his lap and stripping him of all remaining clothing. you didn’t get naked yourself until the pair of handcuffs you kept in your bedside table were safely securing his wrists to the bed frame above his head. when you did take your clothes off you did so very slowly, taking your time just to see him squirm. Minho didn’t take his eyes off of you once, not until you were back on top of him and the tip of his pulsing cock was pressed against your entrance. he threw his head back and sighed before he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from falling apart beneath you. at least not so soon.

you took in everything about this moment, not wanting to forget anything about it. the way the veins that ran down his arms bulged, to the way he twitched every now and then, seemingly very worked up. his chest rising and falling violently, you’ve never seen him like this, so…. so submissive and pliant. it made you want to eat him alive. you ran your hands up his torso, feeling his hot skin against the palm of your hands. a little whine escaped his lips when you grazed his nipples with your fingernails. his hips rutted up into you, resulting in his swollen tip slipping inside of you. he gasped from the sudden stimulation and raised them higher in search of more. you took both of his nipple in between your fingers and and pinched them. he winced from the pain and looked at you with confusion all over his face.

“bad boy,” his eyes widened. “ i didn’t say you could do that.” you didn’t know why you had said that and immediately regretted it. minho was always the dominant one in your relationship, the one who called the shots, the one who called you a bad girl. and that’s why you were in complete shock when he uttered a quiet “i’m sorry.” you tried to hide your surprise the best you could and continue with your switched roles. “how will you make it up to me?” he scanned the room as if the answer was written on the walls somewhere, and apparently it was cause his eyes lit up as he quickly turned his head to look at you.

“sit on my face.”

“hmmm,” you pretended to think about it. “should i?” he quickly nodded and you chuckled at his eagerness. the thought did have you clenching so you moved up his body until your thighs were on either side of his head. his eyes sparkled as he stared at your dripping sex, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. he looked starved and he just found the perfect meal, so he lifted his head in attempt to attach his lip to your core. he only made it so far before you yanked his head back by his hair. “once again, not asking for permission,” your whole brain chemistry was altered when he basically sobbed, a little tear sliding down the side of his face. “i should punish you,” you were loving this a little too much. “but that will have to wait.” he opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off by completely sitting on his mouth. he didn’t miss a beat before devouring, running his tongue through your folds before nipping and sucking harshly on your clit. his hands were balled up into fists and pulling away from the cuffs, his biceps flexing from the strain on his muscles. the veins on his arms were protruding and you couldn’t keep yourself from running a finger over them, tracing out the greenish blue lines. his skin was on fire, almost too hot for you to touch. almost.

you mindlessly started grinding down on his tongue, riding his face for your own pleasure. you weaved your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you, chasing after the euphoric feeling you knew only he could give you. and after a few more thrusts of his tongue and sucking hard on your clit one last time, you were coming. chest heaving and moaning his name like it’s the only thing you knew. once you came down and moved off of his face minho took a deep breath of air and only then you realized you almost suffocated the poor boy. “aww i’m sorry baby, could you not breathe?” you held the side of his face, wiping away your arousal from the corner of his mouth. he was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer you but that was fine you’d get an answer out of him.

you sank down on his cock completely without so much as a warning. “ah- baby wait- i wasn’t- fuck i wasn’t ready.”

“i don’t need your permission.” you ground yourself against him. he threw his head back against the pillows and arched his back.

“if you keep going i’m gonna come. so please… stop.” he pleaded, his voice was so quiet which was very unlike him, so you knew he was telling the truth, he was about to explode.

“you want me to stop?” you went from grinding to full on bouncy on him now.

“ahh fuck i’m coming!” his eyes screwed shut, bracing himself for quite possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. only for it to be ripped away. his eyes shot open. “why’d you stop?!” he looked infuriated with you, he was so close why would you take that away from him?

“you told me to stop.” you smirked at him. “why? did you want to come? i’m so, so sorry.” you were talking to him like a baby, pouting down at him like he was a child. “well i guess we can consider that your punishment.”

“uncuff me.” he demanded. “now.”

“oh baby i’d love to.” you grinned. “ but i’m not finished with you yet.”

i’m back!!!!! did you miss me?

taglist: @bangchansbae @yumiblogs @fawnpeaks

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katiexpunk · 2 months

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Desert Dust | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're a small-town waitress in a highway town in Arizona with a standard, safe life. You never really thought you needed more -- until you met Joel Miller. Warnings: Joel is a consent king in this one. No age gap mentioned (make it your own). Self-deprecation. Toxic coworkers. Attempted assault (not by Joel)/nothing too graphic (please be responsible about what you consume). Joel beats up a bad guy. References to blood and first aid. Alcohol. Pet names. Flirting/slow burn. Objectification of Joel by readers coworker. Inexperienced reader. Body hair. References to taste of vagina. Smoking/cigarettes (it's bad, don't do it). References to shitty past hookups. Oral (f receiving). Praise kink. Size kink. Rough sex. Sex on a desk. Just a really passionate, filthy fuck. Creampie (shocker, I know). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions apart from female anatomy. W/C: ~8K. Sorrrrrrry, not sorry? A/N: Hi, hello. It's been a hot minute since I've been here! I took a hiatus for the past few months because life was, well, life and I was busy getting married. Happy to be back. This one was inspired by a drive through the Arizona desert. Special thanks to @syd-djarin for being a slut with me on this one. Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications | Read Joel's POV

Humans rely on cooperation, communication, and mutual aid for survival and well-being. Without that, it’s like being cast adrift in a hostile sea without the safety net of community and companionship.

You know this.

And so that’s why you stay, that’s why you’ve always stayed.

Even if most of your days feel lonely, at least you have the comfort of predictability.

++++

"I’m goin' on my break, Tracy," you call out, tossing the words casually over your shoulder as you grab your hoodie and a pack of American Spirit cigarettes from behind the counter. Sometimes you think the only reason you still have the damn vice is for the excuse to step out of the suffocating walls of the grease-drenched building they call a restaurant.

Tracy responds with a touch too much of feigned enthusiasm, pouring a steady stream of black liquid into the mug of the customer sitting in the booth before her.

With a nod of acknowledgment, you slip out the restaurant's back door, the hinges creaking softly in protest as you step into the crisp Arizona air. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the dusty ground as you light up your cigarette, the flame dancing in the breeze.

As you inhale deeply, the familiar taste of tobacco fills your lungs, calming your nerves and grounding you in the present moment. Leaning against the weathered brick wall, your thoughts drift as wisps of smoke curl lazily into the sky.

In the distance, you can hear the faint sound of laughter and chatter drifting from inside, a comforting reminder of the community that surrounds you. Here, amidst the tumbleweeds and endless blue skies, is a place you’ve called home since you ran away from yours at sixteen. It’s not much, but it’s something. Something is always better than nothing, right? People know you by name when you go to the grocery store, and know your order at the only coffee shop in town – big-city girls don’t get that.

As you take one last drag from your cigarette, you try to summon feelings of gratitude for what you do have, but as the smoke dissipates into the desert air, a lingering sense of restlessness gnaws at the edges of your mind.

It's only when you stamp out the cigarette in the dirt below, watching the embers fade into darkness, that you dare to entertain the notion that perhaps you could have more.

++++

You step back into the restaurant, and your eyes adjust to the fluorescent lights above, a stark contrast from the natural light of the sun. Carefully tucking your hoodie away and readjusting your apron strings, you prepare to dive back into work.

As you glance around, you notice Tracy frantically pacing back and forth behind the bar, her demeanor tinged with a hint of frazzled energy. It's not the busiest you've ever been, but for her, every customer that walks through the door feels like a tidal wave of chaos – especially when it’s just you two on the floor.

With a sympathetic smile, you nod in understanding as she thrusts a stack of menus into your hands, followed by a piping hot coffee pot. "Be a doll and go take table three’s order, will ya?" she says, her voice tinged with urgency. Before you can even acknowledge her request, she’s off, stacking her forearms with plates, yelling that she’ll be right there honey to the patrons by the door.

You make your way over to the table, weaving through the maze of booths and tables with practiced ease. As you approach, you notice a lone figure sitting hunched over in a worn leather jacket, eyes fixed on the menu in front of him. He sits up to full height and adjusts himself in the booth, eyes still on the sticky plastic in front of him, giving you a full view of his side profile.

Fuck – he’s gorgeous. Handsome in a way that unmoors you.

Rugged, weathered charm exudes from him. He turns to look at you and oh. His salt-and-pepper curls frame a face weathered by sun and wind, a beard streaked with grey adding an air of distinguished maturity. His eyes are soft and brown, enveloped by small creases in the corners.

Your thighs come flesh with the edge of the table, and with the coffee pot in hand, you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in the pit of your stomach, settling there like a stack of pancakes eaten way too fast.

Clearing your throat, you offer him a tentative smile. Get a grip – he’s just another customer, you silently plead with yourself.

"Hi," you say, your voice a little softer than usual. "Can I get you something to drink?"

As his eyes meet yours, a brief but intense connection crackles between you. There's something in his gaze, a depth that you can't quite decipher, leaving his thoughts shrouded in mystery. His face remains stony, and unreadable, like the weathered cliffs that dot the desert landscape.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you follow his eyes drifting down your chest, lingering for a moment on the nametag pinned to the worn cotton of your uniform. Heat rises to your cheeks under his scrutiny. You wish you would have opted for your cleaner uniform this morning. You’ve never been one to care too much about your looks, mostly because nobody looks at you, not really. All catcalls from drunk men in bars and the occasional flirty customer. But you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the attention he’s giving.

His eyes finally settle on the coffee pot in your hand, a subtle shift in focus that breaks the spell of tension between you. "Just coffee, darlin'," he says, his voice honey-thick, low, and raspy like the rumble of distant thunder.

You nod silently, the words caught in your throat as you turn to pour him a steaming cup of coffee.

“You let me know if I can get you anything else,” you whisper, letting the corners of your lips turn up into a small, cordial, smile.

“Just coffee for me today, sweetheart, thank you.”

Walking away, you can’t help but notice the feeling of the weight of his gaze lingering on you long after you do.

He sits in silence, nursing his coffee with a quiet intensity that commands attention. His presence seems to cast a shadow over the room, drawing the gaze of both patrons and staff alike. You steal glances at him between customers and try not to read into the fact that his eyes are usually on you by the time you find him. He’s not staring – he couldn’t be – why would he be? You shove the thought down and focus on your tasks at hand, him calling you sweetheart playing like a broken record in your mind, over and over.

Tracy, usually bustling about with the frenetic energy of a hummingbird, is unusually attentive to him. She stops by his table more often than necessary, refilling his cup with a gentle touch and addressing him with a warmth you've rarely seen her reserve for anyone else. You swear you even saw her push her tits up behind the wall before going out to him – but you can’t blame her, you’d probably do the same if you had as much to work with as she does.

As you work behind the bar counter, wiping down tables and clearing plates, Tracy tries to engage you in conversation about the mysterious stranger. "Been a long time since we've had a man like that in here," she says, a hint of gossip in her voice, wrapped pretty in a bow of objectification. She reminds you of a praying mantis, attempting to draw in her prey before she eats him.

"Yeah," you murmur, not quite wanting to talk about him, especially not with her.

Excusing yourself, you slip into the bathroom, the wooden door offering a momentary respite. Leaning against the slightly sticky surface, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But despite your efforts, you can't shake the feeling that something has shifted. Looking at the reflection in the mirror, you can’t help but feel the twisty weird tug that pools in your lower belly, and the uptick in your heart rate. You attempt to fix your hair and pinch your cheeks to add some volume to your face. You slip on a touch of chapstick and assess yourself. This is so fucking stupid. He’s a customer. Just a customer. You’re just bored, horny, and alone.

But maybe he is, too?

No. Stop.

After a moment, you emerge from the bathroom, only to find his table empty, a worn $20 bill – more than enough to cover his check – left behind as a silent farewell. Your heart sinks at the realization that he's gone, slipping away like a ghost in the night. Shit.

You didn't even catch his name, and now he's just another fleeting memory, a stranger passing through your life like a whisper in the wind. And though you try to convince yourself that it doesn't matter, that you'll forget about him by morning.

But when dawn breaks the next day, he’s the first thought that crosses your mind.

++++

The days turn into weeks, each blending seamlessly into the next in the endless cycle of small-town life. But amidst the monotony of routine, there's a flicker of anticipation that ignites in your chest every time you step foot into the restaurant – the hope that he might, too.

Stupid, silly little small-town girl.

You’re in the middle of bussing a rather messy table, throwing empty plates and glasses into a bucket after the lunch rush when the sound of bells above the door and heavy boot steps echoes through the restaurant. Not looking up from the table, you yell out take a seat wherever you want, throwing the final pieces of flatware into the bin. Raising it to your hip, your attention finally snaps to the customer and fuck –

You freeze there.

His hand lifts in a simple greeting.

His presence is a magnetic force that shifts the air in the room. Clad in the same worn leather jacket and a dark tee, he exudes a silent, sturdy confidence. You know nothing about him, but you feel like you’d trust him with your life.

“Oh, hi. Um, go ahead and take a seat, I’ll be with you in just a second, just gonna drop this in the back,” you say, trying to hide your smile, your excitement.

He’s a customer. Not a bored and horny customer. Just a customer.

As he settles into the booth next to the window, you can't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. You greet him again with a smile, your voice warm with genuine affection, and he nods in return, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary.

But before you can exchange more than a few words, Tracy swoops in like a hawk, eager to monopolize his attention. She's quick to bring him a menu, bring him a coffee, and offer him a selection of homemade pies, her enthusiasm bordering on overwhelming.

You watch from afar, a pang of frustration chewing at the edges of your composure like a moth to cloth in an old closet. It's as if Tracy has staked her claim on him, leaving little room for anyone else to form a connection. And yet, despite her best efforts, you can still feel the weight of his attention on you, a silent reassurance that you're not alone in this silent dance of whatever the fuck this is.

You think that maybe it’s all in your head – maybe he is into Tracy, and you’re confusing his affection for something it’s not. It wouldn’t be the first time. Lord knows you’re no stranger to having one too many vodka sodas and pining after the affection of the first person who looks at you, crying in the passenger seat of a truck of some guy who gave you attention hours before.

Lord know how many nights you check your phone every three seconds just to be disappointed. Too busy begging for the love of someone who doesn’t want you, and never will. Yet you’re just so hopeful. Hopeful that one day it might not feel this way, hopeful that someone will want you back.

You wonder if you want so desperately to be seen, that you’d twisted every lingering glance, smile, and hello, for something it’s not.

When you enter the dining room, your heart once again sinks when you notice him rising from his booth, getting ready to leave. His eyes catch yours and you give him a small wave goodbye. He holds yours while he tucks something under his coffee cup, giving you a nod, letting you know that he wants you to pick it up. His face is unreadable when he eventually walks out.

Walking over to the table, you notice cash tucked neatly under an empty coffee mug. But you notice something else, too. A worn business card for Joel Miller, CEO of Miller Brothers Contracting. It’s a simple card, just his name and an email on the front. But when you turn it over, you’re surprised to find a phone number scribbled on the back.

Maybe it’s not all in your head. ++++

Later that night, standing in the dark alley of the restaurant, the cement damp from the afternoon rain, Tracy's words hang heavy in the air like a dense cloud of cigarette smoke. You listen in silence as she talks about him, her tone laced with a confidence that borders on arrogance.

"I think I'm gonna ask him to get a drink," she says, her voice carrying a hint of excitement. "I think he's into me. I mean, come on, who else stops in and only orders coffee, and leaves a tip like he does? Even caught him looking at my ass once."

Her words cut through the stillness of the desert night, harsh and abrasive in contrast to the quiet solitude that surrounds you. Tracy has always been one to flaunt her looks, to revel in the attention of men like Joel who pass through the diner's doors. There aren’t many.

But as you listen to her speak, a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, a silent warning that this pursuit of Joel may lead to heartbreak for one or both of you. You've seen the way he looks at you, the way his eyes linger on you when he thinks no one else is watching. You slip your hand into the apron and thumb over the paper of his business card.

You want to warn her, to tell her to tread carefully, but the words catch in your throat like smoke caught in a breeze. Instead, you offer her a weak smile, masking the turmoil brewing beneath the surface.

"Yeah, Tracy," you say, your voice tinged with forced enthusiasm. "Go for it. You deserve someone who appreciates you."

But as she stubs out her cigarette and heads back into the restaurant you can't help but smirk knowing he gave his card to you.

It’s finally your turn to be wanted.

But you don’t call, or text him. You want to, you do, but you don’t know what to say, or where to begin. You’re so out of practice when it’s something that matters. It’s easier to pretend he still wants you if you don’t break the illusion—or that’s the lie you tell yourself, anyway.

++++

Some weeks later, you find yourself alone in the empty restaurant – Tracy having called out for the night. It’s slow. Way too slow. The late hour weighs heavy on your shoulders. George, the cook, went home almost an hour ago. You work to check off the tasks on your list before you leave for the night, and eventually accomplish everything except filling the salt shakers.

You could have sworn you turned off the neon open sign and locked the doors until the familiar sound of bells chimes through the empty restaurant.

“We’re closed,” you yell out, twisting the final cap on the last salt shaker.

Your eyes flicker up to find a large man stumbling through the door, his presence heavy with the unmistakable scent of whiskey and cigarettes. He doesn’t look so good, his skin is pale and damp, eyes glassed over.

You rise from your booth, a sense of unease prickling at the back of your mind as you approach him. Despite your better judgment, you tell him to take in any booth of his choice, while you head behind the bar to grab him a glass of water. When you set it down in front of him, he bristles at your gesture, his words slurred and tinged with aggression at the fact that you brought him fucking water. Your patience wears thin as he rebuffs your offer, his tone sharp and abrasive.

"Just trying to help you out here" you snap, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice. You’re not sure where the irritation is coming from, but it feels right – natural – a built-in defense mechanism. But instead of backing down, he responds with a menacing snarl, his hand shooting out to grip your wrist in a bruising hold. Panic surges through you as you try to pull away, his grip tightening with each futile attempt.

"Let me go," you plead, the fear evident in your voice as he rises from the booth and crowds you against a nearby table, condiments spilling over the edge of the table. His hands move to grip your upper arms with a forceful intensity. You stumble slightly, the weight of his presence pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket, your head turned to the side to avoid having to look at him. “I’ll tell you what, you little bitch –”

You feel the rapid beat of your pulse, the thrum of blood in your veins. You struggle against the man. Your inner voice screams danger, but just as you feel the panic rising in your chest, the familiar sound of chimes rings through your ears. Within seconds, a new figure looms into view, his broad frame casting a shadow over the scene unfolding before you – to you. With a swift movement, he pulls the man off of you, his voice a growl of warning as he asserts his dominance.

“I’d think twice if I were you before you try and win this one,” Joel says, voice low and threatening.

It's him.

Relief floods through you at the sight of him, a silent thank you echoing in your mind as he stands between you and the aggressor. And as he faces off with the man, his protective stance speaks volumes. Your mind goes a little fuzzy from the adrenaline as you watch the man struggle in his grasp, followed by a slur of cuss words, ultimately ending in Joel punching him in the face, the harsh sound of bone to face.

It shouldn’t turn you on, the violence of it all, but it sort of does. The outward display in your defense appeals to the primitive, underived part of your brain, the way a knight would defend a maiden’s honor.

He drags the man out of the establishment, and you hear him tell him to get the fuck out and never come back.

He locks the door and turns to face you. Your arms come up to grab yourself in an instinctual hug, your body is a little shaky from the interaction. Without saying anything, he walks over to you, bringing both of his hands to the sides of your arms – the same place where the man had grabbed you – but his touch feels different. Gentle, reassuring, safe.

“You alright?” he says, a deep crease between his brow as he looks down at you, his eyes filled with concern.

“I’m alright – tha,” your words break a little, and you start to feel hot tears cling to your lashline, “thank you,” you manage to blurt out, avoiding looking at him in the eyes, not wanting him to see yours all teary.

He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and uses the edge of his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. You bring your hand to meet his on your cheek and notice a sticky sensation under your palm. You grab his hand and bring it down to your eye level, noticing the blood on it, a giant split down the middle of one of his knuckles. Jesus, if his hand looks like this, what must that guy’s face look like?

"You're hurt," you say, the tears in your eyes now replaced with genuine concern. "It's okay, don't worry about it, doesn't hurt," he reassures, but you can tell he's probably lying.

"We've got a first aid kit in the back. Let me clean you up," you insist, nodding towards the rear of the room.

"It’s alright sweetheart, you don't have to, really…" he protests.

"You just defended me. Bandaging your knuckles is the least I can do to thank you," you tell him firmly, leaving no room for refusal.

Interlacing your fingers with his on his left hand, you guide him through the restaurant.

Navigating through the kitchen, smelling of oil and french fries, you caution him to watch his step on the freshly mopped yet always greasy floors.

In the small office, you flick on the light switch and rummage through the cabinets until you find an old first aid kit tucked away in the back. Joel leans against the desk, quietly observing you. "Ah, got it," you say with a hint of excitement that you found the kit, a little surprised there was even one stashed away. Though most of the bandages and finger condoms are missing, there's still plenty of gauze and alcohol wipes.

He stands silently, watching as you work to open the kit, his eyes fixed on you, particularly when you rip open the alcohol wipe with your teeth. "This might sting a bit," you warn, meeting his gaze with genuine care.

“You can make it up to me later,” he whispers. His tone, the intention behind his words sends an exciting zap down your spine. There’s shared silence. As you’re patting the blood on his knuckles, that same feeling of raw want, painted with uncertainty, settles in your stomach.

“Can I ask you something,” he says, and you flick your eyes up to meet his for a moment before lowering them back down his hand. You let out a soft mhmm in response, knowing his question before he’s even asked it.

“Why didn’t you call?”

The boldness of his question stops you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I wanted to. I mean, I almost did – I typed out so many texts to you it’s borderline embarrassing,” you pause for a second to grab the gauze from the counter behind him. You lean in close enough to catch the scent of him – cedarwood and fresh cotton, the earthy scent of desert dust clinging to his clothes.

“I guess I’m just not used to being wanted. Don’t know how to do this kind of thing. I’ve been alone for so long, and I guess, I don’t know, Joel,” you affix a little piece of tape to the gauze, before dropping his hand, all finished.

You stand before him, looking at his chest and the bare skin on his neck that’s dotted with freckles, avoiding his eyes.

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Not sure why a guy like you would even want a girl like me to call him anyway…” you trail off, letting out a small cough to hide the emotion creeping up in your throat. Have you always been this self-deprecating?

His hands float up to your hips, and he tugs you in closer to him, body weight still propped up against the desk, his thick thighs bracketing yours. You still avoid his eyes, your gaze fixed on a button on his shirt in front of you.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

The bandaged hand trails up over the side of your body, and his fingers land under your chin, his thumb tilting you up to look at him. You’re sure you must look like a mess, eyes tired from a long shift, mascara smudged from your tears. How pathetic you must look. The pad of his thumb caresses over your lips and you hold your breath.

There’s so much he could say, so much he wants to say. He wants to build you up, to tell you that you’re worthy of the whole world. That you’re beautiful and kind, and that any man would be lucky to have you. He doesn’t even have to deeply know you to know those things.

But he can tell from the look in your eyes that it’s not what you need right now. He’ll tell you someday. He’ll tell you every day if you’ll have him.

But no.

Right now you don’t need someone to tell you how gorgeous you are, you need someone to show you.

“Joel,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. His thumb is still on your lower lip.

“Ki–” Before you can continue, his hand drops, and his lips crash into yours and he groans. He wants to rip you open, eat you raw, to devour every inch of you. You’ve had plenty of kisses, but none like this – none full of such heat, a fiery intensity, a need. He wants you. Joel wants you.

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and you let out a little whimper. The sweet sound goes straight to his already hardening cock. He holds you tighter to his chest, thick and capable hands on your hips as he dips his mouth to your neck, kitten-kissing you as delicately as a man his size can. He skims his injured hand underneath your shirt, caressing the skin between your shoulder blades. Your breath hitches in your throat as he nips at your jaw, eliciting a soft moan from you. And oh – he likes that.

“Fuck, baby. Wanna go slow with you, take my time. Do it right,” he says, his voice a little wrecked already and he’s barely touched you.

His hand trails up and pulls the shirt of your uniform down over your breast, exposing the simple lacey bra you’ve had for far too long. You would be embarrassed about him seeing it if you weren’t so aroused, drunk on his touch. You continue to let out little moans as he kisses your neck, and thumbs at your nipple beneath the fabric.

“Wanna show you what you’re worthy of sweet girl, in all the ways,” he groans into your chest.

His words melt into you like butter, making you feel all soft and weak-limbed, fuzzy in a way that’s new to you.

“I want you to fuck me so badly,” you blurt out, lost in the delusion of arousal. The words come naturally for a girl who never really had more than a one-night stand or some shitty fuck from a guy who drank too much whiskey – his dick half-hard, promising he’ll rock your world.

That does it for him.

Joel’s cock is rock hard, with an almost painful stiffness. He wants so badly for you to just fall to your knees in this tiny little office and suck it. He wants so badly to hold the column of your throat while he shoves his thick cock into your wet and waiting mouth, feel him deep down your throat.

But as much as he needs that right now, he knows he has an obligation. To make you feel good. To make you feel good about yourself in every way.

He hopes to god that you’ll chant his name like a prayer when he unravels you like a spool of thread. He can hear it in his head now, as he licks your soft skin and holds you against him. He can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’ll sound when you come for him.

“Patience, angel baby. You’re in good hands,” he purrs. If you weren’t so hazy you might’ve made a joke about him only having one good hand at the moment. He would chuckle at that, you briefly think, before his husky voice speaks again.

“Can I undress you?” he asks. You’ve never been asked that, most of the other men we’re quick just to take your clothes off. Too sloppy, too eager – careless. You’re starting to realize how hot consent is.

You toe off your beat-up sneakers and work to take off your shirt and bra, all while Joel unbuttons your skirt. You wiggle your hips to assist him in removing the barrier. After what seems like no time at all, you’re nearly fully nude in front of him, bare save the thin cotton of your panties. As a reflex, you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide your body, wishing you could blend into the wallpaper.

“God damn, sweetheart. Look at you,” Joel says, taking a small step back and admiring the view. He looks at you like you’re a masterpiece, a piece of art holding court just for him to gaze at.

He gently grabs the arm you’re covering yourself with and exposes your bare chest. Goosebumps collect like pebbles on your skin from the cool air, and your nipples harden from the significance of the moment.

“No need’ta hide from me,” he assures you. You believe him.

You push your chest out to him, for him. He accepts your offering; swipes a calloused thumb across your plush, silky nipple, and crouches to catch the other in his desperate mouth. He groans into your chest the second your nipple meets his lips. You can’t control the deep hum that escapes from your throat. Joel smirks at the sound, lips still attached to your breast.

“Feels so good, Joel,” you moan. You have of course played with your nipples when you touched yourself, but you’ve never had a man pay so much attention to them, to be gentle and firm at the same time.

He trails kisses down the valley of your breasts, across the soft swell of your stomach, whispering sweet praises as he does. You drape your hands over his broad shoulders and thread your fingers through the curls that gather on the back of his head as he works his way down to the band of your panties. Much like your bra, you’d wish you opted for a cuter pair of underwear. Not like you own any anyway, but something tells you he could give two shits about that right now.

On his knees, he places both of his hands on the curves of your hips and holds you steady while he looks up at you. He looks up at you with a softness you’ve never seen in a man, his pupils so dark they edge out most of the brown, his hooded eyes are almost a plea for you to let him continue.

“Can I take these off, baby?” he asks, already hooking his thumbs in the band of them, awaiting your permission.

You pause with your mouth agape a bit, not quite sure what to say. Every fiber of your being wants you to say yes, yes, yes. But you’re nervous – you haven’t shaved, and you remember Tracy saying something about men not liking hair on women, especially not on their pussy — a man won’t even eat you out if you’ve not been properly groomed.

What if you taste weird? What if he doesn’t like it? You’ve only been eaten out once if you can even classify it as such, and he was down there for maybe two seconds before he was rising and wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, claiming whatever you’re wet enough before shoving his rather average cock into your pussy, paying no mind to you or your pleasure.

“You, um, you don’t have to. It’s okay, really…” you shy away, trying to give Joel an out.

His prominent nose presses into your mound and he moans, moans, at your smell.

“Smell so sweet, need to taste you, sweetheart. I won’t if you don’t want me to, but fuck, I would love to,” he says, the truth behind his voice evident in his tone. His cock twitches against the confines of his jeans.

He suspects you’ve never had a real man take care of you, taking the time to pleasure you to your heart’s content. A damn shame, he thinks.

“O-kay,” you say on an exhale. You’re determined to not let the negative thoughts swirling in your head win.

“I gotcha, don’t worry,” he rasps out, his voice equal parts gentle, and gruff with desire.

He gently tugs the fabric down over your thighs, the fabric gathering at your ankles. You take a small step out of them, and he gently caresses up the back of your calve, and back of your thigh, his hand landing on the curve of your ass. He tightly grabs the flesh there. He gently guides your leg up onto one of his shoulders, and you press back into the wall and lean your pelvis closer to him.

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praises, before leaning in to place an experimental kiss on the top of your mound. You let out a soft little sound at the feeling of his lips on your skin. He looks up at you once again, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, before once again returning his attention to your cunt.

He gets bold with his kisses, and once you’re comfortable with his mouth on you, he glides the middle finger of his non-bandaged hand through your wet slit before flipping it so it’s wrist up, pausing with the pad of it right at the entrance of your tight hole. You look down at him with lusty doe eyes and bite your lower lip in anticipation, still a little nervous. He looks at you and gently nudges the nip in, he holds it there for a brief second, before fully thrusting it up into your core, holding your gaze as he enters you. You gasp.

“Fuck angel, you’re tight,” he moans as he continues to feel you, eventually putting his mouth back on your pussy, his lips sealed around your puffy clit. His large finger pumps in and out of you as his tongue flicks and swirls where you need him the most.

“More,” you moan, “Fuck–please, Joel, give me more,” you mewle.

“That’s my girl, gonna stretch you out, get you nice and ready for this cock,” he whispers against your wet skin as he slips another finger in, one you greedily accept. He devours you, licks at you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. It’s so precise, so overwhelming, so fucking good.

Heat pools in your lower abdomen, and the world goes a little fuzzy at the edges of your vision. You’ve had an orgasm before, you think, but you don’t remember it feeling like this.

You moan as he sets a relentless pace with his mouth and fingers, slowly tightening the coil inside of you in a way you’ve never felt before. Time slows for a brief moment and your vision goes white, little specks of light dancing behind your eyelids, heat rushing up to your chest and cheeks.

Until –

“Holy shit, yes, I’m coming, oh my god, don’t stop,” you unravel for him, a babbling mess of pleasure, he holds you steady as he works you through it. And when he’s satisfied that you’re satisfied, he gently hoists your leg off of his shoulder and rises to his full height.

“Such a good girl for me, you come so pretty,” he whispers against your neck, nipping at your jaw until his lips find yours. You taste yourself on them, feel the wetness in his beard. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you moan. It’s so hot to taste yourself on him, dizzying that he’s not wiping it away. He wants you. Joel wants you.

The daze of your release wears off, hurling you back down to earth. Joel kept his promise, he did show you what you’re worthy of. No more mediocre, subpar sex for you. You are worthy of that. Deserve that and more. It’d be rude of you not to return the favor.

On jelly-like legs, you begin to kneel before him, wanting nothing more than to be a practitioner of pleasure, to elicit another good girl from him. He stops you before your knees touch the floor.

“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” you ask, feeling a sting of rejection.

“Oh angel baby, I would love to feel those sweet little lips of yours wrapped tight around my cock, hold your throat as you choke on me,” he coos.

You bring your palm to cup him through his jeans and he groans, your hands trace over the thick shape. He’s big. You watch as his jaw tightens and his head falls back as you work over him. You can’t help but feel excited when you feel a damp spot on his jeans, the place where his pre-come has gathered.

“But there’s something I want more right now. Feel what you do to me?” he says, pressing your hand harder down onto him. “Need to feel that sweet, tight cunt of yours around me first,” he says with intensity, an urgency in his voice. You make quick work of undoing his belt buckle and slip off his jeans and boxers in one swoop.

Truly seeing him, the sight of his heavy cock in all its glory, makes your mouth water a little.

“Yo–you’re so big,” you say, a little intimidated. He grabs you by the hips and holds you tight against him, his cock pressed between your bodies against the bare flesh of your tummy. You think you might actually feel him there when he’s inside you at this rate.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can take it,” he says, using one hand to grab the back of your thigh and tapping the other. You get the memo. He lifts you and spins you around so you’re sitting on the mahogany desk behind you, your damp skin sticking to the mess of customer receipts and supply lists underneath you. He stands between your legs, holding himself by the base, pumping himself slowly up and down his length. “I’m on birth control,” you say, blurting it out. “And I’m clean, you don’t have to use a condom, I mean, if you don’t want to.” And shit – that’s music to his fucking ears.

“Okay. Open your legs wide for me, baby. Wanna see you,” he says, and you do. He juts his head down and spits onto it, using his fist to work it onto himself. You hold your legs open in a V, bracing yourself with your arms behind you. Your ass hangs slightly off the edge of the desk, just enough for him to have full access and view of your glistening slit.

He positions himself at your entrance and gently pushes his hips forward so the tip of him is inside of you. He pauses there, giving you a second to adjust. Your heart throbs in your chest, and your eyes flicker closed.

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see you as I take what’s mine,” he says, his voice a wreck. When you open them, he sinks even deeper. Halfway inside of you, he pauses again.

“Okay?” he asks. You nod.

You can tell he’s holding back, not wanting to hurt you. And while you may be out of practice, you know your body was made for this. You feel so full, so content, you just want to feel all of him. After he’s confident you’re ready, he pushes his hips forward once again, fully burying himself deep inside of you.

Your pussy walls clench against him, and your jaw goes slack. You were right, you do feel him in your tummy. He’s so fucking big, but god, it feels good. It’s like he’s stuffing and filling all of the lonely spaces that have been hiding inside of you for so long. Like he was made for you.

He sets a slow and steady rhythm at first, dragging in and out of you. You can tell he wants to fuck you harder, deeper. You can tell that he’s waiting for you to take it there, to give him that permission.

“You can fuck me harder, Joel. ‘M not gonna break, I promise,” you coo. His hand at your hip flexes tighter, and that’s all he needs. “Shit, c’mere,” he says, helping you off the desk, steading your legs. He flips you over and presses you against the desk, your bare breasts flesh against the cool wood, your hips perfectly positioned at the edge, bent over and waiting to once again be stuffed.

He stands behind you, angles your hips up slightly, and once again buries himself in you.

“Such a perfect cunt,” he groans, beginning to set a relentless pace. Something about this angle does something for you, too. His cock fits just right, pushing and gliding over the spongey spot inside of you that makes you see stars. He holds your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, eliciting throaty moans from you. The air is filled with the filthy wanton sound of skin slapping against skin.

“I –” you mew, “I think I’m gonna come again,” you say, breathless.

“Come for me, baby. Be the good girl I know you are and show me how pretty you are when you come on my cock,” he says, a little out of breath, voice deep.

Good girl. Pretty. Come for him.

And you do. Your pussy pulses around him as the wave of your orgasm takes over you, your mind hazy and filled with nothing but the thought of the way he fills you just right.

His movements begin to slow. You can tell he’s close.

“Where do you want me, baby?”

“Inside, please. Want you to fill me up, make me yours,” you rasp, beg.

After a few more thrusts of his hips, he begins to stutter and slow. He pauses buried to the hilt inside of you and groans as his cock paints your insides with thick ropes of come.

He holds you there, both of your breaths coming a little ragged, his body shaking and jolting a little. You feel him pulse inside of you. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this content, utterly blissed out from the feeling of him – all of him – deep inside of you.

When he pulls out, you let out a small moan, a little sad your pussy has nothing to clench around anymore. He tells you to stay there for a second before he returns with a handful of paper towels from the kitchen to help clean you up.

He kisses you again. It’s different this time, not as intense as the first few, but just as hot, just as passionate. The same pull you felt the moment he first entered the restaurant.

He helps you get dressed, and you fasten his belt buckle for him and check the gauze on his fist. You both stand there in silence, not quite sure where to go from here, until he offers up.

“Wanna smoke?”

++++

“So, how long have you lived here’?” he asks, holding open the lit zippo from his back pocket to you. With the cigarette dangling between your lips, you steady it between your fingers and lean in, the dim glow of the fire illuminates your features.

“Too long,” you mumble, taking a big drag. Now you get why in movies after a really good sex scene the characters always want a cigarette. You watch as he lights his own.

“And you, where are you off to next?” You don’t want him to leave.

“Not sure, the contract job my brother and I have in the county over ends in a week or so. Was thinkin’ it might be nice to head south, maybe Austin,” he responds, smoke dancing in the air around him.

Your stomach twists a bit at the thought. Don’t go.

“Although, ‘M not so sure anymore. Starting to think I might have a few things I need to take care of here first,” he says, shifting his gaze from the ground until his hooded eyes find yours.

He gives you a subtle wink. You smile.

You stand there in comfortable silence, leaning up against the wall next to him, taking in the crisp desert air, enjoying being next to him.

And when it’s time to go, he offers you his hand and a ride home. You accept.

But this time when you stamp out the cigarette, watching the embers fade into darkness, you fully entertain the notion that not only could you have more.

You will.

Especially if Joel has anything to say about it.

END

Or if you want, you can read Joel’s POV here.

Tagging some moots cuz I'm sure Tumblr will probably fuck my engagement on this one since I haven't posted in forever :/ If you like this, please consider a reblog (dm me if you want to be removed): @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @hellishjoel @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @morallyinept @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @morgaussy

ily.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedrostories #consent #joel miller #joel miler x fem!reader #joel miller fanfic

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lxnarphase · 3 months

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Screaming, crying, violently shaking the bars on my enclosure for thigh grinding. Please.

i had to let this marinate for a little, this is actually so good i love the idea of just plopping yourself on their lap, straddling their thigh when you want their attention when they're doing something. and you gave me free reign on who to write so i am in heaven with these thoughts. i thought about adding 'who would pretend to not notice' and 'who would make you do it until you squirt' but i think i already got carried away with this little thirst ❤︎

WHO ENCOURAGES IT: g. suguru, n. kento, h. kinji, f. toji

the second you sit on him, his attention snaps to you, inquisitively raising an eyebrow. but once you tell him to focus on what he was doing, he bites his lip as he feels you grinding yourself on his thigh.

suguru's abandoned his show, leaning back on the couch and putting his hands on your waist, guiding you back and forth against his leg. "oh, pretty babyyyy, go on, grind on me. does it feel good?" he's a little upset you aren't facing him, but whenever you turn your head over your shoulder, he coos at you so sweetly. he even brings his hand down to your front, playing with your puffy clit through your soaked underwear. "look at you, your gonna get my leg all wet...tsk, you're gonna lick it up for me after, right?" kento turns a pretty shade of pink, chucking as he shakes his head. he texted you only 2 minutes ago, responding to you pouting and asking when he'd be done with work, he didn't think you'd show up this soon. "have i been neglecting you, honey? mm, i'm sorry, love. you can keep going," he encourages, his hand on your lower back as he looks up at you from his leather desk chair. oh, he could never get tired of his view. if he could, he'd have you sit on his thigh every time he worked in his office, but...he knew that wouldn't work out, he'd never be able to get work done with you sitting all pretty on him like this. "i'll take a break from work, okay? mhm, just for you. now keep going, honey, i want you to feel good." kinji stops everything immediately. "well, hi to you too, cupcake," he whistles, his hands instantly starting to rub up and down your sides. "needy cunt wanted some attention? aww, she needs her kinjiiii, ain't that right, doll?" his hand trails down and smacks your ass before grabbing a handful. his eyes are lidded but filled with excitement. oh, he looooved when you took control of your pleasure and used him to feel good. knowing that you needed him so badly that just grinding on his thigh could make you cum made his ego shoot through the roof. "c'mon, wanna have you soak my thigh before i touch you, baby, lemme see how messy you can get." toji is pleasantly surprised when you come to him with that pretty little pout, cooing his name in just his black sweater. his thin pajama pants can't be that good to grind on, the fabric isn't nearly rough enough, but he can feel how hot and wet you're getting, how sticky your panties are getting. seeing how you're getting frustrated, toji just lifts you up and plops you on his dick. "hey, pretty mama, you strugglin'? mhm, yeah, i knowww. my pants aren't enough for that pussy t' cum, are they?" he helps you move your hips back and forth, lazily smirking up at you. "yeah, that feel better? grindin' on my cock instead? y'so pretty, mama, so so pretty."

WHO CUMS IN THEIR PANTS: g. satoru, k. choso

it's hard not to get turned on from seeing you hovering over him, eyes lidded and filled with need, using their thigh to get yourself off. you just look so fucking gorgeous they can't help but move you off their thigh to their lap.

satoru lets you grind on his thigh for a little bit, kissing all over your neck as he fucking giggles into your skin. when he gets that pretty whine of his name after mouthing your pressure point, he pulls you onto his lap, grinding up into you. "baby, baby, baby, you're so cute, s'fuckin' cute! f-fuck, shit, 'm gonna cum, h-haah, you'd gonna make me cum in my fuckin' jeans, c'mon." he lets out the filthiest moan, laughing deliriously as he cums in his jeans. he barely gives himself a second to breathe before he moves you onto your back on the couch, sliding your panties to the side and pulling out his cock that's still hard and covered in his cum. "tsk-tsk-tsk, little dumplinggg, you made me waste it, 's a baddd girl...now i gotta fuck you 'til it leaks out, m'kay? my cock feels so much better than my thigh, angel, let 'toru into this lil' cunt." choso looks up at you with wide eyes, and you barely get to grind on his thigh before he whines, slowly pulling you towards his lap where his hard dick is pressing against his shorts. "b-babe," he whimpers, finally feeling you grinding against him directly. "y-you, i-i, mmn, i can feel your pussy, y-you're grindin' right on the tip, keep going, p-please?" he's activitly fucking up into you, uncaring that his gym shorts are getting soaked with his precum, eyes rolling back in his head as he keens your name. "pleasepleaseplease, 'm gonna cum, lemme cum, i wanna cum against you like this, please!"

#gojo smut #suguru smut #toji smut #nanami smut #choso smut #hakari smut #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #toji fushiguro smut #kamo choso smut #hakari kinji smut #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #𖤐 ── lxnarworks.#sorry this got so long i am very very excited when it comes to these kind of asks !!

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prettyg1irlstears · 17 days

Text

the pool deck (rafe cameron)

pairing: bfb!rafe

warnings: smoking, unprotected p in v sex, pool sex, breeding

you were spending the day with your best friend sarah. you were by the pool the whole day, just swimming, tanning and gossiping.

“oh no, we ran out of lemonade!” sarah says with a frown when he comes bavk from inside. “gotta go buy more.”

“i’ll wait for you” you smile while putting on sunscreen. sarah nods and you watch her disappear with her wallet in her hand.

ten minutes pass and you get a message from her: got distracted by john b. probably up to his place. sorry!

you just chuckle and shake your head. you still couldn’t believe that a kook princess would date the pogue king himself.

the sound of footsteps take you out of your thoughts and your heart skips a beat when you see their owner.

“hi ray” you smile, taking your sunglasses off to look at him and standing up from your sunbed. “how are you?”

”’sup, bunny,” rafe smirks, the nickname he gave you smoothly coming out of his mouth as he lights up a cigarette and taking a long drag. you were his favorite friend of sarah’s, always so sweet and caring, asking how his day was, all innocent.

“i’m doin’ good, how you doin’,” he blew the smoke out the corner of his mouth, watching her as she walked towards him. “you look good in that bikini.”

“thanks! i bought it last week,” you smile. and look at your bikini. “they also had a blue one but i thought this one was better.”

he chuckled at your words, flicking the ash off his cigarette “well, you have pretty good taste.” he commented, stepping closer to you, his gaze lingering on your body.

“thanks!” you smile and then look at the cigarette. you weren’t much of a smoker, but you took one when someone had them. “can i have a drag?”

hesitantly, he handed you the cigarette, his lips twitching into a smile. “sure, if you must.”

his eyes were focused on your lips, the way you suck on the filter, imagining how they would taste and feel wrapped around his dick.

rafe watched you take a long drag, your lips wrapped around the cigarette looking so tempting. he swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving you. he was getting hard. “you look hot as hell.”

“really..?” you smile shyly. you’re not used to getting attention from guys, and you’re definitely not used to comments like this. “i don’t get that often.”

his eyes roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your figure with a predatory gaze, his breath hitching as his cock hardened in his swimming pants. he coudln’t take it anymore, he reached out, grabbing your ass, squeezing it softly.

you gasp, looking up at him with a shocked and confused expression that only made him grow harder. “what are you doing, ray??”

his hand slips lower, his fingers finding the damp fabric of your bikini bottoms. he chuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. he wants her, wants to strip you naked and ravish you. “i'm going to fuck you in this pool soon.”

that takes you off guard, making you swallow as you try to talk yourself out of it. “that’s unhygienic.. i- i could get an infection or something—“ you stutter, trying to stay calm.

“you'll be the cleanest bitch in town after I finish fucking you.” rafe whispers, rubbing your butt cheeks. he was already imagining what it would feel like to have you writhing beneath him, moaning his name.

he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. his tongue slides past your lips, exploring your mouth as his hand playfully slap your butt. if only you knew how much he wants to strip you and have you bent over the pool deck for a good, long, hard fucking.

“rafe— wait— sarah—“ you attempt to say between kisses.

his fingers dig into you hips, pulling you closer against him, his kiss turning more hungry as his arousal presses against you, his cock throbbing pants. “shut up and let me fuck you.”

you want to protest, to tell him that this is a terrible idea, that sarah will kill you when she finds out. but before you can respond, you have his fingers knuckled deep into your pussy

he devours your mouth, his tongue dancing with yours. he could feel your wetness coating his fingers and he couldn't wait to slide that sweet cunny onto his engorged cock.

you leave tiny moans and whimpers into the kiss as he fingers you, shamelessly moving your hips into his hand as your knees bend in pleasure.

he whitdraws his fingers before you can cum, a smirk on his face as he looks at you, his hands on your thighs. "get down on your knees, i wanna fuck you doggy right here.”

his eyes devouring your body as he watched you get into a kneeling position on the edge of the pool deck. he undoes his swimming pants and slides them down, revealing his big, hard and throbbing cock. “spread those legs f’me.”

you do as he says so and he positions himself behind you, his cock pressing against your wet folds. he reachs around and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it gently as he begings to push into your tight pussy.

you gasp, your pussy gripping his cock tight. “ray..” you whimper, followed by a low groan from him.

he pulls your hair harder, causing you to let out a small whimper. "shhh, baby. i'm gonna make you cum." he begins to thrust into you, his balls slapping against your clit with each powerful thrust, your plump butt jiggling.

all you can let out are small ah ah ah sounds, and god, that could make him cum right on the spot.

he leans down and plants a kiss on your neck. "i can fucking feel your pussy clenching around me, sweet thing. you want me to fuck you harder? or do you want me to pull out and leave you wet and needy?"

“harder.. harder, ray..” you whine out, the thought of him stopping makes you wanna cry.

without missing a beat, he thrust into you harder, pounding your soaking wet pussy. the sounds of his hips slapping against your plump butt combined with your small and needy whimpers filled the air. “look at you.. taking your best friend’s brother balls deep inside you..”

your eyes roll into the back of your head, feeling the knot in your stomach threatening to burst. ”ray!” you moan out, your pussy clenching.

feeling the sensation of your tight pussy clenching around his cock as you reach your peak, he pulled your head back even further and slammed into you one last time, holding you there as he came inside you with a long grunt. "i fucking told you i was going to make you cum."

small whimpers are leaving your mouth, feeling his warm and sticky cum dump inside you and his lips attacking your neck, all while still coming down from your high.

he stayed inside you for a while, waiting until his panting calms down. after a while he gently pulled out, leaving a mess of his cum in your wrecked pussy. "there's my good girl."

even though you’re completely fucked out, you still somehow manage to get up on your knees, turn around and hug him, seeking out comfort.

feeling your small body against his, he pulled you into a tight hug, basking in the afterglow of your intense fuck session. his voice was deep and soothing as he soothed you in his arms. "come here, my little mess."

divider creds here

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe x you #drew starkey #best friends brother #prettyg1rlstears #blurbs𐙚

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slayfics · 5 months

Text

Late night texting with Eijiro.

Warnings: Eijiro aged up | NSFW themes

Eijiro tossed and turned in bed unable to drift to sleep with the memories of today's spar plaguing his mind. He had been rougher with you than he intended to today and he couldn't help but feel guilty.

Giving in to his worry Eijiro grabbed his phone and decided to message you.

Hey, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about today's spar. I didn't intend to be so rough. I hope you're alright.

You responded to him almost right away,

Kirishima it's late you should be asleep!

I couldn't help it! I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.

I'm fine, no need to worry. Look, it isn't even that bad.

You texted and sent over a picture of your injuries from the spar. Eijiro felt his breath catch in his throat as soon as his eyes focused on the image.

You were lying in bed and had pulled your shirt up to show the injuries to your abdomen left from the spar.

He knew you were just trying to ease his mind by showing him the injuries weren't anything to worry about, but he couldn't help his mouth from falling open and his cheeks warmed by an excited blush.

The image showcased your body so perfectly lying delicately in bed. Eijiro couldn't look away from it as badly as he wanted to. This isn't manly at all. He thought as he found himself excited by a picture of your bruised body. Even still knowing it was wrong, his grip tightened on his phone and his heart rate increased the longer he stared.

Just as his hormones shot him nefarious thoughts causing his member to enlarge, you messaged him again.

Hello? You fall asleep on me Kiri?

Fuck, he typed out a response fast.

I'm still up! I guess it's not too bad, but I'm still sorry!

Stop apologizing! Besides, I got you pretty good too right?

Yeah, you did! You did amazing today!

Alright, let's see it then!

Eijiro felt himself freeze for a second time tonight. You- You wanted a picture of him? Eijiro shook all crude thoughts out of his mind. Don't be a perv, he told himself. You were just wanting to make sure his injuries weren't bad.

Eijiro must have been contemplating the meaning of your request for longer than he thought because you texted him again.

Unless you feel uncomfortable then it's totally fine you don't have to!

No no, it's fine! Give me a second!

Eijiro jumped out of bed panicking. You wanted a picture of him! He looked around his room and clumsily stumbled into the restroom deciding that was the best place to do it.

Ok ok, you can do this, he thought trying to hype himself up. Besides he is usually shirtless in his hero costume right? But for some reason, this felt so different. Eijiro struggled to keep his hands from shaking as he ripped off his shirt and nervously took selfies in front of the mirror.

What the hell am I doing, he second-guessed himself as he scrolled through the pictures he took deciding on the best one. Finally settling on one he nervously pressed the send button.

Your response came in minutes but felt like ages as he shakingly waited. Did he show too much skin, he wondered? He hoped his picture didn't look too suggestive. But you asked for one right? So it's fine, he thought, trying to ease himself.

Eijiro's eyes snapped to his phone as soon as it buzzed with a response from you.

Damn.

Was all your message said.

Damn, what?! He thought, running his hands over his face. Maybe you meant his injuries? Of course, right? That is what you two were talking about.

Yeah, you got me pretty good, but don't worry I'm alright!

He responded, commenting on the darkened bruises on his own abdomen that you had given him.

Not the injuries silly. You. You look good.

Eijiro's face burnt red hot reading your message. Do you really think he looked good? Was that the real reason you had asked him for a picture? Were the injuries just an excuse to ask, he wondered.

You look good too.

He typed and sent before thinking, panic caused him to quickly send a follow-up text.

Oh man, that sounded so pervy I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to be weird or anything!

However, you didn't respond to Eijiro with a text but with another picture instead. This one was more provocative than the last showcasing even more of your body.

Eijiro suddenly felt his sweats become tighter as his excitement grew at the revelation that you were doing this on purpose. You wanted him to look at you with lustful eyes.

Yet again, Eijiro found himself staring too long causing you to send him a follow-up text.

Don't be rude, send one back.

Eijiro dabbed at the blood beginning to leak from his nose, as he realized: this was going to be a long night.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries

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bruisedboys · 5 months

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I don't know if this would be something you're interested in but I'd really like to see a protective!finnick. Doesn't have to be related to the games, like reader doesn't need to be a tribute or a rebel but she can be! Up to you, but it'd be interesting to see that side of him

thank you for your request lovely! I challenged myself to write something actually in universe for once, so I hope you enjoy it! (set in catching fire)

finnick odair x fem!tribute!reader cw for reader fainting from the heat

“Be careful.”

Finnick’s big hand on your back, his torso not far behind. He points to a thick tree root in your path. You step over it easily, exasperated. This is maybe the fourth time in the past ten minutes he’s said those same two words.

“I am,” you say simply. You are. If not for your sake then for Finnick’s. If you were to get so much as a cut on your leg he’d lose his mind. “S’hard when you’re standing so close, though.”

Finnick makes a face at you over your shoulder. “Sorry. You’re precious cargo, y’know?”

Your face warms, which is not ideal. You’re already well on your way to becoming a human furnace — the jungle you’re surrounded by is sticky and overly warm. You’re definitely overheating though you won’t tell Finnick that, he’ll only get worse. The water back at the beach is sure to cool you down — you’ll hop in as soon as you get back.

“You’re hopeless,” you tell Finnick in the meantime.

Finnick grins. “For you, yeah.”

You roll your eyes and march on ahead. Slowly the jungle gets thinner and thinner until you’re emerging onto the beach and your makeshift camp. The sun beats down on the landscape, glinting off the ripples in the water and rolling off the white sand in waves. You’re struck suddenly by how agonisingly hot you feel. It was sickeningly warm in the jungle but this is somehow much worse, the heat like a knife, sharp, cruel, and enough to make you dizzy.

“Ah, the lovebirds are back,” Johanna drawls when she spots you and Finnick emerging from the deep green trees. “What took you so long?”

Finnick shrugs. “Oh, you know. Sight-seeing. Did you— hey, what’s wrong?”

You’ve grabbed a tree for support as your vision swims suddenly. Your head pounds, as if your brain is trying to punch it’s way out of your skull. The dizziness you’d felt as soon as you stepped into the sun builds until you’re swaying on your feet.

You try desperately to keep your eyes open but the sun glares at you until you’re forced to squeeze them shut. “I don’t feel very well. I think I’m…”

It’s all you get out before you collapse in half like a rag doll. Finnick shouts your name and surges forward to grab you. He slides an arm under your back while the other grabs at your waist, tight as a vice.

“What the hell?” Johanna says loudly, standing up fast. “Is she okay?”

“Get me some water, please,” Finnick says, strained. You’re clearly not okay. His heart pounds in his throat and threatens to choke him. Johanna runs off and Finnick pulls you into the shade of the trees, carefully lowering you into the sand on your back.

He kneels next to you, panic rising like bile in his throat. Your eyes are closed, your head heavy in his hands.

“Y/N,” he says, an edge of panic to his voice. Please wake up, he thinks. “Y/N, honey.“

You’re completely unresponsive. Thinking the worst, Finnick presses his fingers to your throat. Thankfully, he feels a steady pulse, though it doesn’t do much to calm his spiking worry, not when you’re still unconscious.

“Can you hear me?” He tries gently tapping your cheek but to no avail. He curses. “Johanna!” He yells out, past being polite. “Water, now.”

“It’s coming!” Johanna yells back from the shoreline, clearly as agitated as he is.

Finnick grits his teeth and takes your face in his hands, trying his best to be gentle when he’s so panic stricken. “Hey. Baby, come on. Wake up.”

When you don’t respond, he carefully lowers your head and swiftly slides his hands to your shoulders. He’s careful but firm as he shakes you. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t ever want to be rough with you, but he’s glad he’s done it because it works. Just as Johanna arrives with a seashell full of water, Peeta and Katniss hot on her heels, your breath catches. Then your eyelids flutter, and then your lips part.

“Finnick?”

Finnick releases a shuddering breath, his heartbeat a pounding drum in his ears. The relief in hearing your voice is akin to a spear being pulled out of his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, hey, I’ve got you. You can hear me, right?”

“I can hear you,” you say. You try to turn your head, searching for him even in your disoriented state, but Finnick holds you in place.

“Don’t move, sweet thing,” he tells you. Unable to look away from you until he knows you’re absolutely alright, Finnick puts his hand out for the water wordlessly. Johanna hands it to him quick as a flash. “Can you open your eyes?”

You can, though it takes you a little while, blinking sluggishly in the harsh light. Finnick’s quick to shade your face with one hand. Your eyes appear, glazed but beautiful as always.

“Good girl,” Finnick tells you, hand on your cheek. He’s still buzzing — the heat of the sudden onslaught of panic hasn’t dissipated just yet. He carefully strokes your hair away from your sweaty neck with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna cool you down, okay? Can I unzip you?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Finnick unzips your suit halfway down your chest, taking care to angle his torso so the others don’t see anything they don’t have to. Slowly, he tips the water over your hot skin. It slides over the slopes of your shoulders and creeps down into your suit. It must feel good because you shudder and let out a small breath.

Finnick thumbs your collarbone, feeling overwhelmed with relief. His hands don’t leave you, afraid you’ll disappear again if he lets go. The panic ebbs slowly as he watches you come back to life, your eyes becoming clearer by the second.

“She’s okay?” Peeta speaks up after a long moment of silence.

Finnick nods. “She’s okay,” he assures. “It was the heat, I think.” He finally lets himself look away from you, if only to ask Peeta, “Could you get us some more water?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The other three all trail off, leaving you and Finnick on your own. You try to sit up as they leave but Finnick presses his hand to your chest, palm flat on your warm skin.

“Don’t,” he says. “You’ve gotta lay flat, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, looking bashful. “Sorry,” you say softly.

“Don’t be sorry. No more fainting though, okay?” He rubs your shoulder. “I know I’m really handsome, but you don’t have to be so drastic about it.”

You groan but it quickly morphs into a laugh. Finnick kisses your forehead and then holds your hand until Peeta returns with the water.

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

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nanaslutt · 5 months

Note

hello, i hope youre good !

may you please write one day about y/n sending hot pics for satoru ?

sorry if I spoke something wrong, english isnt my first language :] take ur time and have a good day ! 💞

Your english is perfect ml, please enjoy! <3

Contains: fem reader, established relationship, sending nudes, phone sex, mutual masturbation, he talks you through it, praise, DIRTY TALK

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"I don't know Shoko.. I've never sent him anything like this before." You groaned into your pillow, your voice through the phone coming out muffled on her end. "But you want to right?" She pushed, making you raise your head up from the sheets and sigh, "I doooo." You huffed out begrudgingly. "Great! Problem solved, the pictures you sent me were hot, but not too revealing, so you can send him something like that for starters." She replied, making you blush at her compliment.

You had recently bought a new set when you went out with Shoko for a girl's day. You had practically ripped the bag in half when you got home so you could get it on your body faster. Once you had on the garment you were posing left and right, making sure to take some sensual pictures for yourself later. Your boyfriend; Satoru; had texted you in the midst of your shenanigans, telling you how he was on his lunch break, making an idea pop into your head.

You wanted to show your man how good you looked, but thinking about sending Satoru; or anyone for that matter; nudes? That made you a little nervous. You quickly dialed up Shoko, she always knew just what to say, she was your hypewoman after all. After a quick convo she had successsfully pushed you in the direction you truly wanted; that being sending your boyfriend risque pictures while he was at work.

"Let me know how it goes, see ya." Shoko's voice echoed through the phone speaker before the tone indicating the call had ended rang through the room. You took a deep breath and rotated yourself on your bed, flopping your back against the pillows, still dressed in the pretty set, while you scrolled through the pictures you had taken-- trying to pick your favorites.

You settled on three for starters, it was an easy pick, only taking you a couple minutes to assess the best ones for Satoru. The first one you were on your side, body laid across the floor sensually as your arm rested on your hip, giving the viewer's eyes full access to your body. In the second picture, you were on your knees, you had placed your phone on the ground and set it to a timer so you could lean forward, making your thighs crease at the top, as you used to squeeze your breasts together.

The last photo was your favorite. You were sat on the floor, your legs folded and spread, the sheerness of the panties leaving little to the imagination in the lighting, while your hand once again rested against your tit, pushing and groping it in your hand while the other took a picture in the mirror, your phone covering most of you face save for a sliver of a smile that peeked out the side of the phone.

Your heart was racing, you knew Satoru would like the pictures, and you're pretty sure he would find you attractive in a trash bag, but you digressed, opening the chat to your lover.

Satoru <3: finally on lunch, yaga brought donuts today!

The picture attached was of the white-haired man laying back in his chair as he held his shirt up over his stomach to reveal his somehow still toned, but bloated tummy, an empty donut box in the background. Something told you that the donuts might've been for the kids, but Yaga should've known that bringing sweets around Satoru without anything for him was a recipe for disaster.

You laughed to yourself as you shook your head before responding. The two of you bantered back and forth about the subject for a while before he asked you what you were up to right now, which gave you the perfect excuse to send him the pictures. After sending an ominous 'you wanna see?' text, you clicked on the three gold medal winning pictures and sent them his way. You bit your lip between your teeth as you watched the blue bar at the top of the screen slowly slide across it, indicating it was sending.

Seconds before the pictures had been successfully sent, Satoru had started typing back his own response, which made you nervous because it meant he was in the chat and would see the photos sooner. Which is what you wanted, yes, but it didn't make it any less nerve-wracking.

When the little ‘delivered’ popped up underneath your pictures, quickly followed by a ‘read’ you held your breath. The three dots that indicated his typing stopped, then started, then stopped again. Uncertainty filled your body, did he not like the pictures? Was he mad you sent them while he was working?

You were snapped out of your stupor when your phone started vibrating in your hand, Satoru’s contact picture and name lighting up the phone as it rang. You quickly answered his call, readying yourself to apologize for being out of line, but before you could do so you heard a loud drawn out groan resonate from the speaker.

“You’re such a tease.” He pouted on the other side of the line, “I only have 5 minutes left on my lunch break and you just made me so fucking hard.” He groaned, making you sigh in relief as you registered his words. “I’m sorry Satoru, I felt pretty and wanted you to see,” you faux apologized, biting your lip as you looked around your room.

“And you do look so fucking pretty baby, that’s the problem.” He sighed, spinning himself around in his chair while he stared down at his erect cock that was tenting up his pants. He looked over at the large clock on his wall, which he mainly used for decoration, before sighing into the receiver. "Thank you, Satoru," You blushed. "I was going to send them when you texted me that you were on your lunch but our conversation wasn't really.. in that mood" You explained.

You heard his signature laugh from the other end, "Baby, I don't care if I just told you the school got attacked by a hoard of curses, if you have sexy pictures to show me you better not keep them from me." You rolled your eyes, you both knew he was exaggerating and you would never do such a thing, but his words made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside still. "Sorry Satoru, is it too late to tell you that I took more than the ones I sent you?" You giggled, biting your lip when you heard him groan in response.

"Fuckk, please send me those pictures baby~" He wined, reaching over to his wireless headphones as he popped onto into his ear so he could still hear you while he oggled your pictures, he wouldn't want anyone to hear this conversation after all. You were one step ahead of them, the delivered notification once again popped up on your screen as you sent him three more pictures, all more risque than the last.

In one your back was arched in the mirror, showing off the pretty decoration on the back of the panties. Another, you completely abandoned the bra of the set, leaving the panties on as you covered your nipples with your fingers, and one of the same vein of you holding the phone over your body while you lay on the bed, your arm squishing your tits in the bra together while it cupped over your panty-less cunt.

"Oh you're trying to kill me, look at that fucking arch." He groaned, covering his mouth with his hand as he took in the photos. "Baby you look so cute in that last one." He complimented, making you blush and giggle as you whispered out your thanks to him. He looked over to the clock once more, it was a couple minutes over the time he was supposed to be back and teaching the kids, but he figured if he was already late, what was a couple more minutes?

"Answer that," Satoru instructed, referring to the FaceTime request that popped up on your phone from him. You accepted it quickly, pulling your phone from your ear as you slid the green button over, smiling fondly when his flushed face popped into view. "You're so handsome, Satoru." You complimented, feeling your stomach start to tie itself in knots with how debauched he looked from just looking at the pictures you sent him, he was so clearly aroused.

"Oh shit, you still have it on?" He said, biting his lip as he set his phone down on the desk in front of him, giving you a full veiw of his body as he leaned back once more and startaed rubbing himself over his slacks. "Satoru what are you doing?" You asked with a laugh, surely it had been longer than five minutes now, he needed to get back to teaching. "Shh baby, they wont miss me for a couple more minutes ill make it quick." You imediately picked up on what he was insinuating.

"Look at how hard I am baby, I can't go out there looking like this." He wined, tipping his head to the side against his chair as he looked at you with a pout. "You're gonna take care of me too right?" You asked, giggling before you set up your own phone on your bed, using some pillows to stabilize it. The white-haired man scoffed before he started unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out, "Can't believe you just asked me that." He said, semi-faux offense plastering itself on his face, "Was there ever a time I've left you unsatisfied?" He asked, slapping his cock against his free hand when it was finally unobstructed from his too-tight pants.

You sat back on your heels and started massaging your tits in your hands, making the warmth in your stomach grow as you pretended to think, looking around the room as you hummed. "Oh, so you already forgot how I made you cum in under a minute before work yesterday morning?" He said confidently, beginning to stroke himself as he watched you push your covered tits together. "I barely have to touch you and you're a squirming mess, dont play with me." He huffed out a laugh, bringing his other hand down to massage his balls in his hand, really giving you a show.

"But you're not here right now, Satoru." You retorted, sliding one of your hands down your body slowly, making your way down to your cunt. "Maybe not, but just my words are making you all wet, huh?" He asked knowingly, pulling his lip between his teeth as he watched you tease yourself. You nodded, making him coo at you as you finally made it to your cunt as you started to rub small circles over your clit.

"Get comfortable for me baby, keep the set on." He instructed. You lay back against the pillows and spread your legs. The crotch of the panties had a little patch over your entrance that he couldn't see through, but every other part of the fabric was almost completely sheer, except for the fact that your wetness was seeping through them little by little and making them see through the more you teased yourself.

"Play with your nipples while you rub yourself baby." He groaned, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet as he was in his office. "This is so dirty." You giggled, following his instructions. You rubbed small circles against your panty-clad clit while you pinched your nipple through the fabric of the unpadded bra.

The two of you have tried many things sexually throughout the entirety of your relationship together, but somehow, have never thought of getting off together over the phone. When Satoru was gone on missions the two of you would send dirty messages back and forth, saying how bad you missed each other, but nothing to this extent. This was opening a whole new world for the both of you, and it would be something you would definitely do again.

"Good fucking girl. Goddd, what I wouldn't give to bend you over right now and fuck you into the bed." He groaned, his strokes picking up pace while he watched your body jerk and twitch under your ministrations. "Yeah?" You encouraged, rubbing yourself faster and harder as your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for him to fill you up.

"Yes baby, want you to fuck yourself back on my cock too, wanna watch your little pussy swallow up my dick." He continued, rambling as the wet strokes on his dick emanated louder through the room. "Pull your panties aside and touch yourself, gotta see your pretty pussy." He grit through his teeth, as he tried to keep his eyes from rolling back in his had. You did as told, pulling the fabric aside you exposed your twitching clit and pulsing hole, a string of your arousal that connected to the panties failed to excape his eyes, making Satoru's cock twitch.

"Touch yourself, baby, pretend it's me touching you." He groaned, letting his jaw drop as he watched your fingers come in contact with the little bud, beginning to rub quick circles against it, just like he always does. "L-like this Toru?" You asked, needing him to praise you right now. "Just like that baby, doing so good for me, so fucking perfect." He groaned, shaking his head back and forth as he watched your smaller fingers work yourself through your orgasm.

"Shit, wanna feel your cunt squeezing me so bad, can see her twitching." He whined, making you blush in embarrassment at how exposed you were. Satoru's leg started bouncing against the floor at how fast he was working himself up. "P-please, fuck me Toru', fuck me-" You whimpered, getting lost in the sensation as you tipped your head back against the pillows and dropped your other hand down to the opening of your pussy, slowly sliding them inside your walls and starting up a blissful pace as you curled them up towards your sweet spot.

"Yes fuck your pussy for me, baby, yesyesyes." The man rambled, his back beginning to arch off the chair with how close he was. The squelching emitting from your cunt was going to send him over the edge, he so desperately wanted to pull your inadequate fingers out and lick them clean before he replaced them with his own. "Faster baby, cmon, get yourself there." He begged, slowing his strokes against his cock to let you get closer to your orgasm so the two of you could cum together. "I-I'm fuck S-satoru- Right there- right there-" You moaned, losing yourself in your fantasy as you fucked your fingers harder and deeper into yourself.

"Yeah? Right there? You like when I fuck you right there?" He slurred, clenching his teeth together as he picked up his pace once more, beginning to fuck his hips up into his hand. "Yes Toru- G-gonna- gonna cum-" You wined, your voice raising in pitch as you dropped your chin down to the screen in front of you, watching the show he was so kindly putting on for you as the sight pushed you over the edge.

"M-me too- Gonna fill you up cutie- fucking- take it-" Satoru groaned, hot ropes of cum spurting from his dick as his torso curled in slightly, his abs clenching and body jerking with the force of his orgasm. He watched intently as you snapped your legs shut around your hand, he saw the muscles in your forearm moving, praising you for working yourself through it as wave after wave of your high crashed over you. "Good girl, good fucking girl." He praised, slowing his strokes on his cock as he worked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"S-shit" Your body relaxed against the sheets once more, your legs staying shut as you relished in the friction your closed thighs brought to your cunt as you came down from your orgasm. You heard your boyfriend giggle, dropping your knees down to the side you looked down at the screen and noticed that he was wiping his cock clean and tucking himself back into his pants. "Whew, 3 minutes, and I didn't even touch you." He praised himself, making you laugh and roll your eyes at him as you sat up to grab your phone in your hand and lay it against the side of the bed with you as you laid down.

"You could say the same for me too you know." you retorted, making him smirk. "Yeah, you could, made me make a huge fucking mess." He giggled, staring at you lovingly through the phone. "You look beautiful." He said, making hearts practically form in your eyes as you thanked him. "Clean yourself up before you fall asleep, I'll be home soon, okay?" He said, raising his eyebrows at you as he waited for your answer before he ended the call.

"Okay Satoru, hurry please." You added the two of you said your goodbyes, he blew you an animated-looking kiss before he hung up the call. You sighed, dropping your hand against the sheets as you smiled to yourself, you couldn't wait for him to get home.

After giving yourself a couple more seconds to lie there, you sat up, heading his words as you started to get yourself cleaned up. You paused in your ministrations when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up as Satoru's name popped up on the screen. You decided to check his message before you left for the bathroom, your jaw dropped and your body tensed when you opened his message.

There was a picture of Satoru's impressive-sized softening cock that rested on his hand, his length and hand alike covered in his cum with a message attached. When did he even have time to take that picture?

Satoru <3: Keep the set on till I get home please~

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