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#you KNOW they are going to die that is your job to pick up their souls
randomfoggytiger · 2 days
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Collector's Edition: Reviving that Love
Let's have an assortment of mature, (mostly) fluffy, coupley Revival fics, shall we?
This list only scratches the surface; but hopefully it's enough to soothe a particular itch.
**Note**: Another Revival list I've done is Beefy Revival Mulder (and Other Muscular Mentions)-- perfect pairing to this, I believe.
Loose chronological order below~
@oohnotvery/the_eternal_optimist's Always Wanted
But he has a key to her place, because they’ve always had keys to the other’s place, even in horrible times. It arrived in the mail one day, sealed tightly in a bubble-wrapped envelope, addressed from her to him with a handwritten note that he hadn’t even bothered to read before crushing it up in a ball and tossing it into the trash can. Several hours later, in a fit of frustration, he had fished the note out of the trash and shoved it, unread, into a kitchen drawer.
Breakup Mulder realizes Scully has been waiting for him.
@aloysiavirgata’s (Ao3, WBM, Gossamer, LJ, Alt. LJ)
Si Hoc Legere Potes, Liberaliter Educatus
"It was very important to Deputy Director Skinner that you two meet with me. He felt that you needed some guidance before you could resume any kind of professional partnership."
I grit my teeth. You're a dead man, Skinner. 
S10 Mulder and Scully run laps around the FBI recruitment therapist.
I need a fic with Scully's stolen dog Dagoo, and her wearing a Knicks tshirt.
“This is the one I ripped a piece off of for Boggs, Scully. This isn’t just my Knicks shirt. This is my favorite Knicks shirt. I’ve been looking for it!”
She pulls Tesla closer. “Stop violating the fourth amendment, Agent.”
“Stop violating the eighth commandment, Doctor.”
Post The Weremonster Mulder and Scully debate dog names and Knicks T-shirts.
What's your Mulder and Scully Thanksgiving sex headcanon?
"I'm going to die," she mumbles, her eyes half-lidded in tryptophanic stupor.
Mulder and Scully are stuffed after dinner.
@flukemen?/@pinebluffvariants/scienceandmysticism/contradictiontonature's (Ao3) Tie (prompt #1)
“Hello?”
“You know it’s me.” He did. “What are you doing?”
“I’m shopping. And I hope you’re using your bluetooth.” He could tell she was driving from the white noise over the sound of her breathing.
Mulder uses Scully's expertise to pick out a tie.
@hemisphaeric's (Ao3)
"Mulder you need new clothes"
The next day they decided to go into town and do some shopping, after Scully had had to tell Mulder for the tenth time he needed clothes and that no, he couldn’t wear those old ones just to seduce her.
Scully helps Mulder pick out new suits for his new job.
Let me carry some of the pain for you
Suddenly warm hands were touching him but he didn’t react. He couldn’t react, feeling so distant from everything. Scully was speaking, he recognized her voice, but not her words, those were like a white noise in the back of his head, which was so loudly screaming.
“I am better Scully, for real” he didn’t realize he had started talking at first, but he couldn’t stop, tears fogging up his vision.
Mulder panics, thinking Scully will leave him again.
touch.
Things had changed again in the last period though, she had come home; she had been spending time there with him more and more frequently. He understood her necessity to take things slowly, to test the territory before diving in head first, but he felt ready for it.
Mulder is glad to have Scully back.
Mulder, Scully and Elon Musk
She pushed him away and swatted at his arm. “You woke me up early to talk about Elon Musk??”
Mulder wakes Scully early for Elon's rocket news.
grumpysimon's Morse Code
He asks you for a pen. The genius always loses things. Your coffee comes and he spills a little on the napkin. He taps on the table. Morse code, maybe. You’re too tired to figure out what he’s saying to you in secret. You say his name and that smile is more crooked than ever.
Scully secretly loves Mulder's obsessive passion.
@baronessblixen/Baroness_Blixen's
Belong
He closes his eyes and counts. What will it be, he wonders. The sound of a car or their creaky door?
Another minute passes before he hears the soft squeak behind him.
Mulder tells Scully he's "done okay without her."
A few months after they're back on the x-files, Mulder's notices that his neck and shoulders are sore.
Mulder feels better and promises - with a wink - to do the same for her, she just needs to ask. She doesn't ask but Mulder knows her feet are sore a few days later, after hours of walking around. He silently starts massaging her feet while consorting in his hotel room, half-empty take-out containers on the bed next to them....
Mulder doesn't replace his chair-- which is just fine, because Scully becomes his masseuse.
Mulder giving Scully a foot massage
“Exactly. My feet hurt and I need a break. I’m not…” She trails off again as she massages her foot. 
“Not young anymore?” Mulder offers and her head shoots up like a rocket, her eyes shooting daggers. 
“Not used to it anymore.”
Post Ghoulie Scully's high heels finally catch up to her.
There's No Place Like Home (Ao3)
He loves her stubbornness. Once, she told him that she fell in love with him because he was stubborn. Well. That was the pot calling the kettle black. No one is as stubborn as his Scully. 
AU-- Nothing Lasts Forever Mulder brings an injured Scully home.
Growing Old (with You) (Ao3)
“Just wait til you’re my age,” he jokes.
“55 looks good on you.” She proves her point with a kiss on his nose. “I can only hope to look as good as you when I turn 55.”
“You will. And I will remind you of it. If I’m invited to your birthday, that is.”
“You’re always invited to my birthday.”
Scully drops in for Mulder's 55th, assuring him his aging concerns are overblown.
A Study in Chemistry
"I didn't know you cared for this kind of movie, Scully." Mulder, sprawling on her bed, in her motel room, looks slightly disgusted at the small screen where two generic actors share a truly boring, less than passionate kiss in a typical, cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie.
"I don't," she says, returning her attention to the case report they're supposed to be working on. Despite his words, Mulder's eyes are glued to the movie and Scully can't help but smile.
Mulder and Scully bridge the gap between them-- and all because of Hallmark and memories.
Surprises Are Best Served Ice-Cold - Chapter 1
They both start towards each other at the same time, laughing.
“Mulder, I don’t remember how to stop,” she says, trying to get her skates under control.
“I’ve got you,” he says calmly and she hopes he’s right because she loses her balance, stumbles the last few steps towards him and crashes right into his chest, knocking him to the ground.
Mulder surprises Scully with a frozen over lake for Christmas.
A Day in May (Ao3)
Mulder puts on cheesy Christmas music and turns down the lights, creating a mood. They share a cup of sugary hot cocoa with mini marshmallows and whipped cream. When Scully raises her eyebrows at the cream, Mulder dips a finger in and deposits a blob on her nose.
“Live a little, Scully.”
And she does.
Mulder forgoes sleep to help Scully decorate their tree on Christmas Eve.
Night Out
"I can't breathe." Mulder is pouting. She wants to be angry with him - all of this is his own fault, after all - but he looks so miserable and yet so adorable that she feels sympathetic. She strokes his cheek and smiles at him.
"I'll make you make some soup."
"Are you sure I'm not dying?" he asks again, coughing. She offers him some tea and he sips it noisily.
Mulder gets sick after a night of Squatchin.
@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk​‘s (Ao3) 
post-Plus One
“You reasoned your doppelgänger out of existence,” he says flatly. She smiles against his bare shoulder, nodding.
“She was a very reasonable woman.”
He laughs softly, the rumble of it caressing her cheek. 
Post Plus One Mulder and Scully catch a few winks.
ficlet; twenty-six years
On her side of the desk, he has procured for her a plain blue baseball cap, a skinny caramel macchiato, and a not-skinny blueberry muffin.
She sits down as he hums and types away at something, taking a bite of the muffin and putting the cap on her head.
Scully always guesses which anniversary Mulder is celebrating.
fluff 🤢
They’re packing up the basement just one last time. They both learned early in life that saying goodbye is so much easier when it’s a choice, and the moment holds no bitterness, no fear.
Post Revival Scully finds flowers she'd once given Mulder in their basement office.
@myassbrokethefall's untitled rm9sbg93zxjz post-ep
Scully had chanced to see a picture of a blobfish on the internet some months ago and he wasn't sure he had ever, in their years and years together, seen her laugh so hard. It was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, frankly, watching the outsizedly hysterical reaction of Dana Scully MD, his serious scientist partner, to a picture of a lumpy, slimy, theatrically frowning fish on the internet. He had brought it up at every opportunity for weeks, renamed the wireless network at the house Blobfish Cove, found a way to work a reference to it into a meeting with Skinner, once printed out a picture of it and left it on Scully’s pillow, and watched in utter delight as she got the helpless giggles every single time. (Even the Skinner time. He hadn't even asked, just looked wearily at some point behind their heads for a few seconds before sighing and continuing on.)
AU-- Robot episode Mulder dreamed up the whole thing.
@onpaperfirst's (Ao3) Honey Hi
The doors slid open and Mulder wrangled a cart from the corral.
“They set up the little rooms and it makes you feel like you’re at home,” she said. “It dulls your senses. You forget you’re in public. And all of a sudden you’re in the middle of a fight about which rug matches the couch.”
“Let’s not fight in Ikea, Scully. It’s so bourgeois.”
Part II to Home, Home, Mulder and Scully's romantic life is examined through the lens of perfectly balanced humor... and their IKEA trip.
@ghostbustermelanieking's (Ao3) bearing north (Ao3)
“The cops out front will stop him,” Mulder says comfortingly.
She nods. Her skull is still pounding, but she feels limp in his arms, safe. “I tried to fight him off,” she says. “I almost did. But he got angry and shoved me into the pool. I hit my head.”
Mulder takes Scully home after she's injured while pursuing a perp.
"You’re beautiful, you know that?” (Ao3)
She turns her eyes up to meet his, burning blue eyes in the night. “You’re… all I have left now, Mulder.” Names are left unsaid between them, but they all register in his brain, like a knife. “I think my leaving was for the best, but I’m ready to come back. You’re my family, Mulder.”
Scully proposes to her Mulder.
@settle-down-frohike's Headcanon: It started after her first disappearance, on a flight to nowhere North Dakota.
It started after her first disappearance, on a flight to nowhere North Dakota. She was flipping through a dossier and he was dozing, as per usual. She heard a mumbled version of her name and threw a distracted “Hm?” his way without glancing up. “Scully.” Firmer, more forceful this time. She looked over, annoyed, and spat “What Mu-“ and realized he was still asleep, but fitfully so.
My Struggle II Scully hopes she can comfort Mulder once more.
@lilydalexf/LilydaleXF 's My Andromeda
He looks back at the road and answers honestly, "I didn't watch many shows. The ones I really wanted to see I wasn't allowed to watch. Except after excessive begging."
"And on nights you could successfully sneak into the TV room after your parents fell asleep." It's a statement, not a question.
"You know me so well, Scully."
Mulder and Scully imagine a night of stargazing.
Eternity Awaits
"Mulder…. We need to go to bed."
"You don't want to freeze together?"
"Not on this decrepit couch I don't."
Post This Mulder and Scully discuss their eternal conversations.
Apostrophic/@mappingthexfiles's
This
Mulder said Push a third time and they both groaned with the effort of heaving the massive piece another three feet, barricading it firmly against the bedroom door.
“What does this,” he gasped, “remind you of?”
Scully, drawing in deep gulps of air, pushed herself up on her elbows, propped on the edge of the chest. She did not say the fleeting thought that had gone through her head: maybe it was not a bad thing Mulder had not been present at the birth of their child.
“Um,” Scully said.
“Yeah,” Mulder said. Panting out, “Towers of furniture.”
Post This Mulder and Scully move their furniture back into place.
The Scully Treehouse of Horror
The automatic taps don’t turn on and off for him. He’s invisible to its sensors. The alarm, on the other hand, blares every time he walks in the door. Sometimes, even, once he’s inside the door and has been for some time. He’ll get up at night for a drink of water and Scully gets jarred out of postcoital bliss by the klaxon siren of intruder alert, intruder alert, Mulder cursing at the sink in the kitchen, yelling for Scully....
If she yells back for him to punch in the code, he does the wrong birthdate or botches the spelling of Queequeg. More often than not, she pads out in bare feet, tying her robe, entering the right code, filling the glass with cold water, sleepily herding a grumbling Mulder back to the warm bed.
Scully's house hates Mulder; and she loves him all the more for it.
Lapsed_Scholar's Wake-Up Calls
On their way into work, his phone rings. It’s just a wrong number, and the other commuters don’t really take any notice, but Scully arches her eyebrow.
At her questioning look, “Do you recognize this theme?”
“Vaguely. Should I?”
“It’s our theme song, Scully! And I think it suits us. Kind of spooky.” A beat. “Don’t you remember our movie?”
If possible, her eyebrow climbs higher.
Mulder always ratted he and Scully out to people-- and still does now, years and years later.
@slippinmickeys/SlippinMickeys's
Prompt: ballet slippers, chocolate pudding in a can, Wyoming
It was like a Carlton Varney fever dream; like a brothel with aspirations. Mulder actually paused in the doorway and leaned back out to double check the address number on the side of the house.
“Wow,” Scully said, daintily setting down her suitcase a few feet inside the door. She wanted to make a joke, but Mulder looked appalled.
Mulder books a truly terrible vacation spot.
Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 12
“I want something I can’t make.”
It was Day 18 of self-isolation and if you looked at quarantine like the stages of grief, they had rolled easily past panic and guilt, skipped loneliness altogether and were deep in the grip of isolation.
Scully shot him a look.
Mulder and Scully are sick and tired of COVID quarantine.
Prompt: Mulder & Scully vacation Christmas/Hanukah at the Quonochontaug cabin post season 11
“When was the last time you stayed here?” she asked, wrinkling her sensitive nose at the smell of dust, of mildew.
One suitcase on the floor at his feet, one still in his hand, Mulder closed the door behind him, his face ponderous. “Overnight?” he clarified. “I think I was nineteen?”
Post Revival Mulder and Scully spend the New Years in the old Mulder summer home.
outsquatchin94's Joy to You and Me
“Those hipsters… But Scully, that was such a look. Also, I hate to break this to you, but I’m quite sure it’s in the back spare room somewhere in a box.”
For a moment, he thinks she’ll spring off the couch and go find the offending object. She doesn’t though, she only smiles a little.
“I think we turned out okay in the end, even without the sleeping bags.” And Mulder has to agree with her.
Mulder and Scully discuss her old jacket.
@msrafterdark/msrafterdark's A concept : slow dancing on an ill lit front porch late in the evening while it’s thundering and maybe just starting to rain?
When they’re like this again, as though no time has passed, the pleasure of the familiarity is so good it almost hurts her. To have him well again, to be safe and wanted and in his arms is only made sweeter by the fact that the knocks and falls they have taken ultimately only made them stronger.
Mulder and Scully, the Unremarkable House and dancing.
@tofuttim's Comfort and Chaos (Ao3)
The rain pelted relentlessly against the windows of the small cabin. The night air was cold, but inside the cabin, a fire and a shared bed with Mulder kept her warm. The sound of the storm thrusted her thoughts back to the beginning. 
The beginning of forever.
Scully asks Mulder what he remembers about their first case.
@defnotmeyo's (Ao3) The Cost of Living is Just Right
The beds are wrapped in white and light grey sheets with sky blue pillow cases on the spare pillows. The tables all look like something you would have seen on the Jetsons.  
It takes a bit of time for Mulder to feel comfortable at Scully's apt.
Ingot Silver
“Birthday time, huh? We could go uh,” he licked some sauce off his finger as he moved a dish over to the sink, “we could go squatchin’.” He turned and winked at her.
Mulder learned plans an evening dinner for he and his Scully.
the “before i even needed glasses” line
Then, on days he doesn’t hate himself (and those days are multiplying and growing closer together all the time), he remembers he has a son, healthy and alive. He has the love of his life and while she’s not home yet, her toothbrush is back in his bathroom.
Post Cathedral episode Mulder isn't letting his homie get away ever again.
It really looks like Mulder when youre seeing two of everything.
“Mulder… you… you hurled a raccoon down our stairs.”
He shrugs, sheepish as ever.
“Like… you hurled him.”
“It was for Daggoo!”
A raccoon holds the Mulder-Scully household hostage.
I always laugh at that bit in detour where mulder is like “if ur lucky u get seventy-five (75) yrs. if ur rly lucky u get eighty
She refrains from rolling her eyes, instead slides in front of him and slinks an arm around him, patting that soft of his oblique threatening to turn into a love handle.
“Charlie has a decent head of hair,” Mulder mumbles.
“Charlie is four years younger. And you made it passed 50, Mulder. You won.”
Scully reassures Mulder he still looks gooooooooood.
BONUS (HAD TO INCLUDE THESE FOR THE MSR)
@monikafilefan/MonikaFileFan's
Language of Love: Prompts of Angst and Romance - Chapter 6
A sudden rise in emotion crests in her throat when she sees the wondrous look of awe and admiration seize the love of her life.
It’s the exact look she saw grace is face eighteen years ago.
“Mulder…” she whispers, raking her fingers through his silky hair as he grins up at her with a trembling chin.
Post Revival Mulder feels his baby move during the witching hour.
39 and 82 from the prompt list 😁/Just Breathe
“She’s here and she’s beautiful, honey, she’s just—”
“What, Mulder?” Scully shot up onto her elbows with her heart in her throat. “She’s just what?”
“It’s fine. She’s fine, Scully. She just looks like a he.”
Her jaw dropped. “What are you—are you sure?” Their slippery, pink baby covered in layers of vernix and blood mewled in protest as Mulder lifted the tiny bundle away from the comfort of his warm chest and pointed wide-eyed between its legs.
Mulder and Scully and unexpectedly fast Halloween baby makes a chaotically competent three.
RoseThornhill's
Spooky Mulder: The Revenge
Excited dad!Mulder wants a spooky theme for his Halloween daughter's name.
Alice is a Punk Rocker
Mulder, Scully, and their Halloween baby are happy together, despite a few bumpy patches.
@myownsuperintendent/MyOwnSuperintendent’s Renewal
She tries to shift in the bed, to touch him too, and he stops and pulls back.  “Don’t try to sit up,” he says.  “They made me promise I wouldn’t disturb you.”  He’s trying to smile at her through the tears in his eyes.  “You’re all right,” he repeats.  “Please don’t scare me like that again.  Not ever again.”
Post Revival Scully loses a lot of blood during delivery, which helps convince Jackson to stay with his family and new sister a bit longer.
Thanks for reading~
Enjoy!
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starshideurfics · 22 hours
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Thirsty Thursday - Family Video
steddie, omegaverse, mdni 🔞
Eddie’s putzing around in the horror section at Family Video when the bell over the door jingles. He glances without thinking, shocked to see Robin Buckley lead Steve Harrington inside.
He’s nosy, wants to know what the hell is up with that. But he also doesn’t want to attract Keith’s attention. Eddie’s taking his time to hang in the A/C as long as possible, nearly an hour already.
Not that Buckley is capable of being quiet, so he hears plenty.
How they’re job hunting and how Robin probably knows more about film than Keith does. How Steve Fuckin’ Harrington likes Return of the Jedi! Even if he can’t remember the title and calls ewoks teddy bears. 
Color Eddie surprised.
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Add in Steve’s bright, colorblocked outfit and his swoopy hair, the way he absolutely takes out the Fast Times promotional standee and hurries to fix it, resume in his mouth like an enthusiastic labrador retriever.
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Embarrassingly, Eddie realizes he’s been pumping out his campfire and marshmallow scent, too charmed to lock down his sudden interest, subconsciously trying to draw in the stupidly endearing omega.
He figures he should go before he actually catches any attention, dipping around the counter and out the door, but not before he hears Buckley and Harrington get hired on the spot.
It’s easy enough for Eddie to memorize Steve’s schedule, only going to rent movies while he’s working. Sometimes he drags the guys with him, or maybe just Jeff, giving more cover to surreptitiously stare at the moles on Steve’s neck.
“You aren’t being nearly as sneaky as you think,” Jeff mutters on more than one occasion . “Just go talk to him.”
“Can’t.” Eddie keeps Jeff between himself and the counter, eyes on the slasher movies like he’s agonizing over his decision.
“Why not?”
“Cuz I’ll say something stupid like, ‘Please, sit on my face, I wanna drown in your pussy.’ That’s why,” Eddie whispers, risking a glance towards Steve.
“What? Seriously!”
“Have you seen what a mess he is now? And add in that apple pie scent—my mouth is watering and my dick is—”
“Christ! I’m sorry I asked. But I still think you should talk to him.” Jeff turns his attention to the shelf in front of them. “Nightmare on Elm Street?” he asks, reaching for the case.
“Yeah…” Then Eddie stares as Jeff brings the tape up to the counter, his best friend effortlessly making small talk and laughing as he rents the movie. Like a coward, Eddie hurries out of the video store, waiting for Jeff in his van.
When Eddie goes to return the tape the next day, he’s surprised when Steve looks at Robin and says, “I’m going on my break,” even as he accepts the tape from Eddie, their fingers brushing.
“Yeah, whatever,” Robin answers, flipping through a magazine.
Broad fingers wrap around Eddie’s wrist and drag him back to the Family Video break room past the “Employees Only” sign.
Steve smiles at him as he closes the door behind them. “Sorry. Just got tired of waiting for you to make a move.”
“What?” Eddie has never known Steve Harrington to be the kind of omega who waits for an alpha.
“You aren’t doing a very good job of controlling your scent.”
Eddie gulps, cheeks heating.
“And your friend said you were super into me, which… Yeah, definitely picked up on that.”
Nodding, Eddie waits for his tongue to untie, pretty sure he’s gonna die first when Steve steps closer, presses his hand to Eddie’s chest. “You surprised me,” he manages to say.
“Sorry about that.” Steve doesn’t look sorry at all as he leans in, sniffs at Eddie’s neck. “I’m too used to Robin, bad at personal space with pack.”
“Not what I meant—the ewoks—I mean. Shit. Wait.” Eddie closes his eyes, Steve’s scent filling his nose and making him warm. He smells safe. Familiar.
“Yes?” Steve murmurs, hand moving up to touch the skin above the collar of Eddie’s shirt.
“Not pack, what do you mean bad at personal space with pack?”
“Can tell you should be pack.” He nuzzles at Eddie’s cheek and whispers, “Want to be your pack.”
Eddie gives into his instincts then, whining and holding Steve’s face still, bringing their mouths together. He has no idea what he’s doing, but Steve clearly does as he gentles the kiss, grinning as he pulls away.
“My shift ends at seven. Meet me at my place at seven-thirty.”
Eddie nods. “Uh-huh, yep, whatever you say.”
Steve glances up at the clock. “But we’ve still got six minutes before my break ends, and you need to practice,” he teases, pulling Eddie back in for another kiss.
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only hot girls get emotional about the relationship between jesus and judas every night
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mfs be like "have you talked to a threapist" like its not $200 an appointment & i dont already know whats wrong w me
#personal#they can tell me what to do & whatever but i Know. like I Know. but i cant eliminate stressors in my life and im just sad & lonely all the#time and im sorry but a therapist being like i need you to go do these things to feel better when i already know or talk over trauma ive#already come to terms with isnt going to do anything.#its stupid but i really just need a new job and a dog i take care of bc itll give me a schedule i cant ignore and also affection.#and like. literally nothing makes me feel better than a dog. bc like!! it makes you get out of bed and leave the house & remember to eat &#go to the store and makes you laugh and petting is something to do with your hands and they lick your face when you cry and sleep with you#at night and are so happy to see you when you come home. need a dog :/#and like. dogs will make you wake up & go to sleep according to them which is much better for your sleep cycle since its natural#i need a little dog to pick up & carry around as emotional support. like anxious as fuck? hold little dog. sad for no reason? hold little#dog. need to get out of house? walkies. dont want to get out of bed? sorry bro gotta feed and let the dog out. might as well get myself#something to eat as well while im up & get dressed. gotta keep things clean so my dog doesnt get into anything. gotta go food shopping#instead of ordering bc i gotta grab dog food as well. cant die gotta take care of my little guy#sorry im just :( spent the week feeling bad and just saw puppies all weekend and im like. i need a fuckj g emotional support dog
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anxiousbabybird · 3 months
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Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!
Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙
Part 1
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Rafayel
Have you met this man? He wants to know where you’re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him
Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came
Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn
Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)
Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism
Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.
Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day
Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it’s perfect.
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Xavier
Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.
He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night
His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants
Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.
Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming
Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.
Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair
The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.
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Zayne
He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that
Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk
Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.
Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.
Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way
Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.
He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.
#ThickDickClub
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@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle
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deadghosy · 2 months
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THANKS TO @lazyemmy FOR THIS LOVELY IDEA OF THE PENGUIN! READER💗🦆
HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER
prompt: during one extermination an angel had kidnapped you and took you to heaven based off a common mistake
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“Quack?” You were literally trying to water the hotel’s flowers when you forgot about extermination….the leader of the exterminators had grabbed you by your sailor outfit Velvette made you.
“Shut your mouth short stuff.” You heard a man’s voice to see a person wearing a horned mask and a golden robe. You panicked as Charlie had told you about a man like this as Adam scoffs seeing your panicked state.
“JEEZ CHILL OUT YOU FUCKIN' BIRD BRAIN!” Adam yells as he enters in the portal of heaven with the exterminators behind him. He plops you down on the clouded floors to see the heavenly gates Charlie tells you in stories
As you waddled you seen a male who seemed to be waiting for you. “Ah! Reader..so glad to have you. It seems as if heaven had made a mistake and sent you to hell.” St. Peter said as he picks you up having the gates open. Your eyes widen at the bright light of heaven as angels walk and smile. “Welcome to your true home [reader]”
The air smelt so clean and not bloody as it seemed so peaceful and holy. After St. Peter getting your room and home ready to stay in heaven. You start to feel a little “home” sick as you hope the hotel crew was doing well and aren’t going crazy.
Which they totally are as Charlie is panicking calling her father.
After a few days , Adam will visit you a lot saying how he got forced to look after you…(he wasn’t forced he just liked how cute and pure you are but he’ll never admit it) Adam makes dumb ass jokes about how all those sinners down there should die and perish as he pats you on your little head. You quacked trying to show some worry for your friends down there.
“Oh them? Hah! They’re probably running like headless chickens looking for your ass.” Adam says with his usual grin as he pops some popcorn in his mouth. “Want some?” He says as he waves a piece of popcorn in your face. you sniffed it and ate it from his hand as adam's eyes widen at your cuteness…
you're like a little baby..💗😭😭😭
Adam grabs your chubby cold cheeks as he faces you towards him. “Never leave here. Okay?” He says seriously low with a protective tone as you quack nodding nervously at how quick this dude got attached to you.
Adam pushes your face away from him smirking. “Good now let’s watch this video I saw off of this human app called ‘TikTok’”
Lute didn’t know how to approach you, but she sends you small gifts that reminds her of you as you just open them like “quack?” And a head tilt confused but take it in anyways.
I imagine lute literally being your bodyguard when you don’t have any work to do as she just pushes anyone who gets to close to you away. LIKE IT COULD BE AN OLD LADY AND SHE WOULD BE LIKE “BITCH MOVE!”😭
After the 3rd day of the 1 week of being in heaven, lute definitely got overprotective of you. Always keeping tabs on where you go and which house you deliver mail to. I mean who knows what would happen to a cute soul like you? (A/n: Omg this sounds like a yandere…)
The angels love how adorable you are as they pet you. Immediately you are popular just like how you are popular in hell. Sera has given you a job as a mail boy again as you smile.
I can see St.Peter visit you when he isn’t on duty or just when someone takes his spot so he can say hi and hang out with you.
You wear a cute little yellow and white mail delivery fit thanks to sera who got a designer to get you to fit it perfectly.
You love how you still got your delivery job as you leave a cookie on the front porches of the angels. It’s like your significant signature to others to have a good day.
Adam and lute were arguing one time in front of you and you sniffled not liking the loud noises and immediately, and surprisingly. Adam and Lute pretended everything was okay to make you happy as Adam picked you up and took you away to get your favorite snack for you.
Sera checks on you as well with Emily by her side as Emily just finds you so cute and is excited to get to hang out with you more.
Emily immediately hugs and kisses your head amused by your small and kind soul she sees in you.
Sera would like to take you on stroll on week 2. She’d like to show you around heaven with Emily as she hold you in her arms gushing chow cute you are.
NOW I CAN IMAGINE YOU AND EMILY GOING ON A SHOPPING SPREE TO EXPLORE NEW CLOTHING AESTHETIC ✨💗
You showed yourself to be an angel by spirit as you helped a kid get a new lollipop, which makes sera smile at you being helpful as he is glad to hav with here in heaven and not they “ratchet” place.
You do miss hell as it had your friends who you got use to….you hoped they were still doing okay down there.
MEANWHILE IN HELL: “OMG OMG I CANT BELIEVE THEY GOT KIDNAPPED…IM A BAD FRIENDDD” “HON DONT WORRY, YOUR DAD CAN FIND A WAY TO GET THEM..” “it’s okay fat nuggets, they’ll come back…” *sad oink* and everyone else is having their own panic moment in their own way.
MEANWHILE BACK IN HEAVEN: “quack.” You said looking up at adam who holds your hand. “Huh? Jeeezzz bird brain..stop worrying about those loser down there…they’re fine without you.” Adam says smirking knowing damn well they aren’t .
Emily holds your hand as you waddle quacking at the ice creams around here. They taste so much better as your eyes sparkle at this sweet flavored treat. Emily squeals as her eyes got big and took a pic of your happy face. Sera most definitely got the picture on her heaven phone as her face soften seeing the new angel in heaven enjoying their self.
I imagine Adam is the one to be the one who claims to be the closest to you. But really he just brags about himself to you about how much sinners he kills.
I headcannon for your wings to be little cute fairy looking wings or pure white ones as you just fly.
You definitely have cherubim in heaven which makes the angels find you more adorable as the delivery boy.
You had made an account literally one day, and instantly you got 2 million followers which made you shock as Adam just munches on snacks while you quack panicked at how quick you became famous here.
I headcannon St. Peter to send you cookies with those cute little penguin designs on it. It looks like Christmas cookies but they are so cute and tasty
Say for example you fell and you couldn’t get up as you’re so rounded 😭 LITERALLY ALL YOU CAN DO IS ROLL AND SQEUAK AND QUACK💗 Adam is laughing as he takes a picture and video for himself before helping you up.
I can imagine Adam and Sera having a schedule out to plan who gets it hang out with you on weeks and days 😭
You liked the herbal tea they had as you waddle around with Adam having a kid leash on you as he just looked bored.
At the end of the week, you were sleeping wearing a whole ass cute gown Adam bought you as he literally dropped it on you with a flustered face seeing your cute smile.
As you slept…Lucifer snuck into heaven and snatched you up leaving a “fuck you” letter to Adam. Don’t even question how he got into heaven. Just be glad he took you.
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inkskinned · 1 year
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i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.
i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.
what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.
so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.
and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.
and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.
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batfamluvr · 7 months
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Bat-Boys in Bed
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I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me
Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.
He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.
I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.
Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.
Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”
I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.
He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.
Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.
He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.
I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.
Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.
Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.
I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).
This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.
Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.
You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.
Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.
Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.
Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.
I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.
That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.
Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!
Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.
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littleredwolf · 19 days
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Hungry Eyes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: The team overhears Nat and Y/N's 'girl talk' through the comms and feelings surface as a result.
Warnings: Suggestive content. Sex references.
Words: 956
A/N: I don't know what this is or where it came from, but if this goes down well I may write up something a little spicy for a part 2 *eyebrow wiggle* PART 2 CAN BE FOUND HERE
--
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“Bucky's done nothing but undress you with his eyes since you walked in,” Natasha's husky voice came over your earpiece and your eyes snapped to the super soldier on the other side of the room, your cheeks reddening to find him already staring in your direction. 
You let your gaze casually pass over him, playing the brief moment of eye contact off as a coincidence as you scanned the room for the mission, but your heart was pounding and you were sure he could probably hear it. 
“Doubtful,” you scoffed, though you couldn't ignore the tingle that travelled up your spine at the thought of Bucky finding you attractive. You'd had the hots for him for months, but your fear of rejection strongly outweighed your desire to tell him so you'd kept your little secret to yourself…and Nat of course. 
“Stop living in denial, anybody with half a brain can see how he practically drools over you every time he sees you,” Nat argued, and you rolled your eyes as you continued to survey the room. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s true.” 
“Stop watching me, you know it creeps me out when I can’t see you,” you hissed, eyes roaming the crowd in an attempt to spot the redhead. 
“If you could see me, I wouldn’t be very good at my job,” she teased, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. 
“Just hurry up and do your job, Romanoff - the quicker we finish and I can get out of this dress the better,” you stated, readjusting the silky garment that Natasha herself had picked out for you. It suited your cover well, but it was a little provocative for your usual tastes. 
“I’m sure Barnes would agree with you on that one…”
“As much as I’m enjoying watching Bucky squirm from this conversation, head’s up that this is an open channel,” Sam’s voice cutting in over the comms caused any reply you had prepared for Natasha to die on your tongue, the blood draining from your face as you turned to look at Bucky.  
The super soldier was no longer on his mark, but as you searched the crowd you caught a glimpse of him as he was making a swift exit. More than anything you wanted to follow him, to defuse the awkwardness and recover from the embarrassment of him overhearing Nat’s comments, but you stayed rooted to the spot, unable to leave your position. 
“Go,” Nat urged, as though sensing your inner turmoil. “Me and Sam have got this.”
A quick look towards Sam confirmed that he agreed, and you wasted no time in hurrying towards the same door Bucky had gone through moments ago. 
Surprisingly, he hadn’t gone very far, and you found him leaning against the wall in the foyer. Heat rushed to your cheeks as his eyes landed on you, and you smiled sheepishly as you approached.  
“Hey Buck,” you softly said as you reached him. “Sorry about what you heard back there - Nat was just teasing, she didn’t mean any of it.” 
“Didn’t she?” He asked, raising a single eyebrow. 
“What?” You frowned, unsure how to interpret his response. There was a way you wanted this to go, but you didn’t want to get your wires crossed and make even more of a fool of yourself. 
“You said she didn’t mean any of it, but how can you be sure?” 
He pushed himself off the wall and fixed you with an intense gaze, making your knees weak and your breath short. You didn’t dare look away - afraid that if you did, this moment would end. 
“I-uh…I don’t know what you’re getting at here, Buck…” you stammered, too dumbfounded to form a better response. You were very aware of how close the two of you were and the smell of his cologne and warmth emanating from his body was making your brain short circuit. 
“Then let me show you.”
There was no hesitation as he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, and you melted into him with a whimper. The sound gave him the encouragement he was looking for and he spun you round so that he could press you up against the wall, moaning into your mouth as you raked your hands through his hair. 
Everything around you ceased to exist and all sense left you as you gave into your desires, the feeling of Bucky’s hands roaming your body setting your skin on fire. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you’d never even let yourself hope that Bucky might actually feel the same, yet here you were, making out with him while his sizable bulge pressed up against you. 
Had Sam not cleared his throat over the comms, you were sure you’d have let the super soldier take you right there and then, regardless of the fact that you were in public and on a mission.  
“Channel is still very much open, guys,” he informed, and Bucky’s eyes widened in horror as he pulled away. You giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. 
“I’m not even sorry,” you told Sam teasingly, straightening up and readjusting your dress. You were aware of Bucky’s eyes on you and you looked up to meet his hungry gaze. 
“I can’t wait to get that thing off you when we’re finished here,” he blurted, and you bit your lip as heat flooded your core. 
“Then we’d better hurry up and finish,” you replied, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the main room so that you could get the mission, and later on your clothes, out of the way. 
PART 2
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louloulemons-posts · 2 months
Note
Heyy
Could you write Eddie x introvert reader😭
Like a little story and then some smut maybe😭
Not So Shy
Eddie Munson X Shy!Girlfriend
Word Count : 2.4k
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Warnings : not proofread, SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex, kinky? daddy kink, readers called good girl and bunny, choking, eddies a soft dom, sub reader, it’s kinda fluffy lmao?
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
“Hey baby!” Eddie was leaning against his van as you walked over, almost shouting the endearment. “Hey,” you smiled, making your way to him.
His hands instantly sound your waist, leaning down to peck your lips. “How was English?” With a flushed face you replied, “It was good yeah, how was Chem?”
Eddie pulled a face. “Ed’s you said you’d go!” You scolded.
“I know I know, but I had a deal to do. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll go Monday okay?”
“You better.” He squeezed your hips, smirking as he leaned down, “Like when you get all assertive with me baby.” Your face burned, pushing away from the grinning boy.
However he just pulled you back, so you stood chest to chest. “Eddie,” You whined, “People are looking.”
“Let em look baby.” With a groan you dropped your face into his chest making him chuckle.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry. Let’s go okay?” He suggested. “Okay.” The boy opened the door for you, letting you climb into the van. “Love those jeans baby,” he said as you sat.
“Stop looking a my ass!”
“As your boyfriend it’s kinda my job too.”
“Shush!”
The boy cackled as he closed the door and walked to his own side. “So you coming back to mine?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“Great!” He slid a hand onto your thing, giving it a squeeze and you were on your way.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
You don’t really know how you and Eddie got close, you just kinda did. Sat in History class together, you just kinda went hand in hand.
You were quiet, Eddie was loud. You were getting straight As, Eddie was barely scraping a D-. Eddie was full of love and light … you … not so much.
“Here we are gorgeous,” Eddie smiled, pulling up to the trailer. The trailer, somewhere you became so fond of so quickly, even more so when Wayne was around.
Speaking of where was he? “Where’s Wayne?” You asked.
“Picked up another shift. So you’ll have to deal with my ugly mug.”
“Shush, you’re not ugly.”
“No?”
“No .. prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” you mumbled. “What was that?” You knew full well he heard you, but was teasing just cause. “Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” You said slightly louder this time.
“And you’re the most beautiful girl in the world baby.” Your face flushed. “Come on, let’s get you in, before you die of embarrassment.”
With a huff you hopped out of the van, but couldn’t hide your smile as Eddie held his hand out to you. As he always did, linking your fingers together, eventhough you were only going a short distance.
Once you were inside you slid off your shoes, hanging your jacket and bag on a hook, Eddie doing the same in a smooth rhythm.
“Want a drink? Wayne made lemonade.”
“Yes please.”
“Okay you go and get comfy baby,” he kissed your head walking to the kitchen.
With a sigh you dropped down onto to the sofa, letting your eyes fall closed. Listening to Eddies movements, the glasses gave out of the cupboard, sliding across the side.
The fridge door opened with a slight creak, and the sound of lemonade pouring filled your ears. Once the door of the fridge closed, heavy footsteps padded towards you.
“Long day Baby?” Eddie asked, the glasses were placed with a clink onto to coffee table. Your feet were lifted and then placed on the boys jean clad legs.
“Mhm, just had a lot of homework is all. Got to bed late.”
“You should take a nap.”
“No, wanna spend time with you.” You pushed yourself up on your elbows, opening your eyes to look at the boy.
“Well we can relax together, wanna watch a movie? Red left one here, said you’d probably like it.”
“Oh yeah? What’s it called?”
“The Breakfast Club.”
“Oh Robs told me about that, apparently it’s real good,” you told him.
“Well we better trust them then.” He gently lift your feet so he could get up, placing the tape into the player.
Twisting your body so you could sit together, Eddie smiled, placing his self besides you and held you close. Arms falling around you. “Hello,” he smiled as looked down at you.
“Hi,” you said looking up at him.
“So fucking cute,” he laughed, kissing your head. Your face flushed. “One of these days you’ll stop blushing when I compliment you.”
“Think it’ll take a while.”
“Well we’ve been dating for almost 4 months now, and you still go as red as a beet baby.”
“I can’t help it,” you held your rosy cheeks in your hands.
Eddie squeezed you, “Didn’t mean it’s bad thing, it’s cute. I just wish you’d believe my words more. Just think you’re the best thing.”
“Since sliced bread?” you joked.
“Oh since the start of the universe.” His words were true and full of adoration for you.
“You’re a sweet talker Eddie Munson.”
“Only for you baby.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Lay in Eddies arms as the movie played you felt his hands fiddling with your jumper, sliding under it slightly. Coming to rest on your bare tummy.
The feeling made you burn, his hands on your bare skin, your legs rubbed together at the slight twitch between them.
“Just watch the movie,” Eddie whispered in a soft voice, his hands sliding up. Coming to a halt when his fingers met the bottom of your bra. “Is this okay?” He asked.
You hummed, nodding your head. “Words baby.” He almost pulled his hands away when you couldn’t get them out, choking out a broken, “Yes, Y-yeah.”
His hands resumed their mission. Pulling down the cups, you sighed as your nipples brushed against the knitted wool of your jumper.
Eddies rough hands cupped them, squeezing ever so slightly to make you hiss. His lips brushed against your neck, leaving soft kisses, from the base up to your ear.
His thumb and index finger began to pinch at your nipples, teasing them as he suckled onto that sweet spot below your ear. With a sigh your head fell back against his shoulder, legs squeezing together.
“Eds,” you whined.
“What baby?” he said in a mocking tone.
“Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He asked, pulling at your nipples giving them a rough squeeze. “Mhm feels real good.”
“Shall we take this off?” he said, motioning to your jumper and bra. “Yeah.” He shifted in front of you then, lifting your arms up, pulling the jumper and throwing it somewhere.
You didn’t know where. You honestly couldn’t care less. Your bra followed moments later. Eddies mouth soon latched onto your tits, kissing them and then taking a nipple into his mouth.
Suckling on it and biting down. “Fuck ah,” you said, hands pulling on his curls. “Fucking love these pretty tits.”
Eddie sat back on his knees taking you in, making you feel shy at your half bare form. Your hands came up to cover yourself, but Eddie pulled them away, linking your fingers.
Pushing you to lie down on the couch Eddie lay between your legs, meeting you in a soft kiss. “Never need to hide from me. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he spoke softly.
The next time he met your mouth, it was full of tongue and lust. Making you whine as he squeezed your boobs again. “Eddie please.”
“Please what baby?”
“Do more.”
“Yeah? Want me to suck on that pretty pussy?” You hummed nodding wildly, hips pushing up to reach his hardening crotch.
“I got you baby, Eddies got you.”
His hands went down to your jeans, undoing the buttons and sliding them down. Kissing your legs as he did so. Socks went with them. You lay there in your panties.
“These are cute baby,” he pulled at the baby blue material, letting them snap back against your hip. “Eds not fair!” You pouted, tugging at his shirt.
“Oh I guess not.” The boy lifted his shirt up and over his head, next his jeans went along with the socks on his own feet.
“This better?” he asked. You took the sight of him in. Lust filled eyes, wild hair, tattoos decorating his skin, and underwear getting tighter by the second. “Yeah.”
He kissed his way down your body, making sure to bite on each nipple as he went. Soon he was at your clothed core. Kissing your thighs, leaving love bites there, you squealed at the feeling.
Trying to close your legs, he held them open, finally dropping kissing onto the blue lace. You let out a soft sigh, hands going back to his hair. “Please don’t tease.”
He laughed, then slide the pants down your legs, making a show of licking where your core would rest. “God fucking delicious.”
“Baby please.”
With a grin he dropped his mouth to you, letting his tongue lick up you. The feeling was incredible, his tongue was like nothing else. Soon he latched onto your clit.
Sucking away, making you let out soft moans. His tongue worked against it too, flicking every once in a while, he knew it drove you mad.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me. Think I can already slide my fingers in.”
“Yes!” You almost screamed. “Yes please.”
“Well how can I say no to you?”
The feeling of two of his thick fingers stretching you was incredible. Your mouth dropped open as he curled them inside you, letting them pump in and out.
“You’re gonna cum on my fingers and in my mouth and then I’ll give you what you really want okay?” With the way he moved his fingers you couldn’t answer, too lost in pleasure.
So he stopped. “I said okay?”
“Okay, yes.”
“Good girl.” You felt your pussy clench around his fingers at that. “Oh?” he smirked.
“You wanna be my good girl?” he asked, once again your pussy throbbed.
Leaning down to your ear he whispered, “Are you gonna be daddy’s good girl and cum around his fingers?” You could have came right then and there.
“Yes.”
“Yes who?”
“Yes daddy.”
He smirked again, pecking your mouth, you could taste yourself on his lips. He was back down on your clit, fingers curling inside you, until they hit you where they needed to.
Letting out a loud moan, you could feel Eddies grin. “Come on baby, cum for me. Cum for daddy.”
“Fuck!” You almost shouted. Hands gripping his hair as he kept playing with your clit and curling those thick digits, so deep you could feel his rings against your hole.
“Fuck daddy- I- I …”
“I know baby I can feel you, cum for daddy. Cum for me.” You did just that. With a loud moan, you hips bucked, shaking as you came.
“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Eddie said, as he moved his mouth away, fingers still moving as he watched your orgasm. “Fuck baby you’re so sexy.
Your chest rose and fell heavily, body full of bliss, as you sighed. Grabbing for his face, you pulled him to kissed you.
Tasting yourself on his tongue made you both moan. “I’ll give you what you want baby.” The boy tugged his boxers down, going to position himself to go inside.
“No,” you stopped him, he pulled back wide eyed. “Do you … do you wanna stop? Shit sorry baby, we can stop right now.”
“No! I don’t wanna stop, I just wanna try something different.”
“Okay?” Softly pushing Eddie up, you pulled his guitar pick necklace off of him, pulling it over your own head. Making the boy sit up, you climbed onto his lap.
“Oh?” he smirked. “And what are you doing now baby?”
“Wanna … wanna bounce on your cock,” you said shyly, but forced yourself to meet his eyes.
“You go ahead bunny, bounce on daddy’s cock,” he said, smacking your ass lightly.
Slowly you positioned his cock at your entrance, letting yourself slide down.
You hissed at the feeling of the stretch it was so good. Eddie was packing six, almost seven inches and he was thick. Nice and thick, making your walls tight around him.
“God that pussys good. Come on baby, bounce.”
So you did. Holding onto his shoulders you let your hips rise and fall onto his. Letting out heavy breaths of pleasure. “Fuck bunny,” Eddies head fell back.
“God daddy your dicks so good.”
“Yeah? Best dick you’ll ever get.”
“Only dick I want.” He looked at you then, took one of his big hands and squeezed it around your neck.
You paused in your bounce, letting out a choked moan. “Only dick you’re ever gonna have, cause your mine. Do you understand?” You nodded, unable to speak under his tight grip.
He simply said, “Bounce.” So you did. Slamming your hips, you moved erratically like you’d die without it - which you probably would.
He watched as his necklace bounced between your tits, it was a mouth watering sight.
Eddies ring covered hand squeezed every now and again, his other spanking you harder and harder as he got closer.
Your legs burned and you began to slow. “Is my bunny tired, you need daddy to do the work now?” He teased. With a nod of your head, Eddie let go of your throat.
Hands coming to rest on your waist, his feet lifted from the floor and onto the edge of the couch. Making him even deeper, you could feel him in your throat.
“I got you baby.” He thrusted deep into you making you scream in pleasure, slamming again and again. Over and over. “Fuck yes, such a good pussy, milk my fucking cock. Milk daddy’s dick.”
“Yes yes yes!” You screamed as you came for the second time. Squeezing him, Eddie let out his own grunt, pounding you. His cock getting deeper and deeper. “Fuck yes yes yes!” he chanted as you felt his cum squirt into you.
“Uh fuck yes!” you moaned, nails digging into his shoulder and your body shook, head falling to his neck. “Yes take it baby!” With a final thrust his hips fell down.
Heaving breathing was all that was heard.
“God damn, so how to make you not shy is to fuck you dumb?” Eddie laughed. Face sweaty. “Clearly so.” He swatted your ass again.
“Come on baby we better get cleaned up.”
“Can I stay the night?”
“Of course. We’ll call your parents after we shower okay?”
With a nod, Eddie took his cue, pulling out of you and stood up, your legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck.
One hand under your bare ass and one around your back Eddie spoke, “You know they say good things come in threes, reckon I could get another one out of you?”
You smirked, pecking his mouth. “Only one way to find out … daddy.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Sooooo … got a bit carried away 👀
Hope you enjoyed 😚
1K notes · View notes
queenendless · 6 months
Text
😷🤒Sick Day(Adult!SatoSugu x Sick!Fem!Reader)🤒😷
A/N: Yep this is part of that SatoSugu Teacher AU alongside Moving Day and Nights.
Also, announcement. I have smut writing fatigue after just putting out one and I'm down with a cold right now. So that vampire AU gang bang piece is happening next month. I'm so sorry for this yall. Thanks though to everyone who commented on that and helped me decide.
But I will hopefully be posting a JJK Halloween piece to make up for it. A headcannon/ imagined scenario where the JJK cast celebrate Halloween with my ideal fave pairings in couples costumes and such in this what if AU. And yas it gonna be SatoSugu x Fem or GN reader, idk on that part yet.
All credit for JJK and its characters goes to the madman that is Gege.
* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.
I hope you enjoy!
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Your throat feels raw.
Your nose feels stuffy.
And you kept coughing every few minutes.
You should have figured spotting a curse forming from a virus epidemic happening in the hotel across the street would pose a high ass risk of getting infected yourself.
But as a Window, it was your job, as life risking as it was.
The more people inside and around the building got infected, the Grade 4 grew closer to Grade 3. If it kept up, dozens upon hundreds would die.
"Ijichi-san. Disease curse. Transitioning from Grade 4 to Grade 3. Requesting sorcerer help here immediately." You struggled speaking over the phone as you kept coughing, dispatching the address to him, seeing the revolting curse grow in size as its toxic presence spilled, tripping as you tried keeping your distance.
Your head was pounding and you could barely focus as Ijichi-san panicked on his end.
"L/n-san!? L/N-SAN!"
In a moment of ailment, you dropped your phone, causing it to disconnect from the impact.
You were barely able to keep a grip on your phone or walk without faltering as you felt more drained with each passing moment. You blinked a lot as you tried staying alert, stumbling before collapsing against a parked empty vehicle on the street, sliding down to your bum just to rest your aching head against your knees, hugging your legs to your chest.
That curse's smogs began spreading down the streets, into traffic, and nearby occupied establishments.
Believing help wouldn't get here in time through the systematic process, you opted for your wild card, shakily picking up your now cracked screen device.
"Toru. Curse problem. Get here ASAP. Please." Texting the address in your feverish haste, you pressed send before curling in on yourself, welcoming sleep to rest your aching self.
In just under the next few minutes — more like moments — you felt a boom in the cursed energy atmosphere, that curse no longer being sensed. At last, it was done.
The shift from freezing metal to cozy soft fabric stirred you awake a bit. Along with the feel of solid warm arms draped around your shoulders and under your knees. Those big smooth hands squeezing your shoulder and your kneecap had you tugging weakly on the front of that top, pressing your face against your makeshift pillow, struggling to open your eyes as your hearing painted the picture for you in the meantime.
"A majority will spend weeks recuperating. The ones closest to the cause will spend months in the hospital at best. Still though, no casualties. Thank you for the help." High chances it was one of the many medics on site for post cleanup.
"You can thank the young woman here for that. She was the first responder, after all. I'll tend to her recovery myself. Sayonara." You know that voice right away, even when he was muffled, relaxing further in his hold.
"This cold isn't going away anytime soon. Too bad reversed cursed techniques don't make the common cold go away." Your half lidded eyes still had him swooning at how frail and precious you were in his arms.
You murmured, noticing him in his black long sleeved top, matching sweatpants, and face mask with the blindfold. "Blindfolded giant." That's when you realized a face mask was put on you as well, your muffled coughs hitting cloth.
You could already picture him beaming, grinning, as he laughed a bit.
"Correction. Your blindfolded giant, darling~ Now then, let's get you home."
°•○•°•○•°•○•°
Geto typing away on his computer, working on his latest reports.
Gojo straddling his lap, hugging him as he napped against his dear best friend slash hubbie.
The former smiling fondly at the motion before picking up where he left off was their situation before both men's phones began vibrating and ringing.
"Geto-san! L/n-san has reported a disease curse spotting! But she was cut off before I could get further details!"
"She just texted me the location." The sleepiness was wiped away, replaced with firm seriousness, as Gojo started getting off of him to get some shoes on.
"Ijichi-san, do not fret. Satoru will handle the curse." Geto calmly responded over the phone before speaking concerningly to his snowy-haired hubbie. "Toru, bring a face mask in case the affected area reaches where you land post teleport."
Said man smooched his hubbie in kind before slipping on the black face mask to match his current apparel. "Wait up for us, Sugu~"
Seeing you both back, teleporting into your home office, Suguru smooched Satoru the moment he took that face mask right off. Pressing the back of his palm against your forehead to double check for a fever, Suguru's dismay was warranted.
So being there when you awoke from your fever dream tucked in the middle of your guys' giant bed meant Suguru patting your now sweating forehead with a wet rag, you trembling from chills raking your skin followed by feeling warmer the next minute as you coughed into a tissue he handed to you.
"Well dearest, you've got yourself a nasty cold here." Suguru noted with a gray face mask on as well, seated by you on his side of the bed.
"Ah bah." Your raspy spat earned you a cough into your fist before you were offered a filled up water bottle by Satoru who was sitting behind you on his side; blindfold off but face mask back on.
"Welp, I exorcized the curse and brought your cute self back here. Plus I got that report to work on in your precious stead. So you're welcome." He gently ran his fingers through your hair to ease you in whatever way he could.
"Thank you Toru." You slowly sat up and were then handed some cold pills by Suguru to down some water with. "Thank you Sugu."
"Now that we've made our home Ground Zero, you are hereby confined to this room. Drink plenty of fluids. Take your medicine. Get lots of rest. Do you hear me, young lady?" Suguru's smart ass tone made you pout.
"Yes mom." You murmured raspy.
Satoru snorted behind his face mask to which Suguru whacked him in the shoulder across from him with narrowed eyes. "At least Megumi and the twins are living in the dorms now and Tsumiki was able to convince her classmate to stay at her place for a while. Meaning we three have the place to ourselves~"
"Does that mean … I have to sleep by myself?" You whimpered, cracking their resolve. "Neither the Gojo Geto bears, nor the Gojo Geto cats, not even the Gojo Geto giant round plushies can substitute for the real deal." You moped, pointing at said custom made toys lined up on the window seat on the far side of the room.
"Aww, Suguru, how can we deny our lovely sweetheart the company of her valiant handsome knights in the flesh, huh~!?" Satoru dramatized his own cries, muffled though.
Suguru sighed, consigning. "At least one of us should. Who else will be teaching the first years in the meantime?"
"Round robin, then? Last one left standing tends to that noble martyr and gets our dear sweetheart to be their own personal nurse in the end … huh …" That hum and those inquiring eyes could only bode mischief. "I volunteer Suguru to go first!"
"Not gonna happen, Satoru." He immediately denied.
"But to be fed by, bathed by and be doted on by our angel is heaven sent~!" Satoru gushed.
"Which is why you shouldn't be the only one getting that special treatment!" Suguru being jealous at possibly being left out on that.
"Hey!" Your strained shout ends in a coughing fit, curled up in bed, sniffling to which Suguru hands you a big enough tissue to blow your nose in. "I'm dying here."
"Hmm … Yu could fill in." Satoru suggested.
"He is working as a teaching aid part time. And he did say he could help out whenever we needed it." Suguru added.
"Plus Nanamin is on a business trip for the week~ He'll need something to do while waiting for his beloved's return~!" Satoru teased.
"That settles it then." Suguru was smirking behind that mask, you could just tell.
"How lucky you are, darling, to have the strongest duo be your own personal nurses~" Satoru was so smirking his ass off.
"Even though you'll literally get sick of me?" You shyly asked, squeezing your bottle, apprehensive.
"We have strong ass immune systems, Y/n. Comes with over a decade of immense training." Satoru prided on, kissing your flushed cheek.
"If we can risk ourselves in the face of death as sorcerers, this is nothing." Suguru assured, kissing your other flushed cheek. "I'll call Haibara."
"I'll start up a bath for us all. Thank you big ass bathtubs." Satoru clapped to that.
"What do I do?" Even when sick, tilting your head and batting those eyes made the duo smooch your lips at once.
"Just be a good little patient for us, alright, honey?" God that wink of Suguru's left you more hot than usual as he walked off to make that call.
"Besides, being sick with you means being granted a sick leave and getting paid for it! Ah, thank you, my darling sweetheart~!" Satoru did hug you, nuzzle his face in your hair, and left you a wheezing mess.
"Y - You're w - welcome!"
Well, on the bright side, at least you'll all be sick together.
Snuggled in bed, among discarded tissues, wrappers of cough drops, and smooshed in one big embrace of entangled limbs while binging nothing but sitcoms, movies, and anime.
You would eventually get better in a week's time then later tend to your two enamored, affectionate partners and get them back into tip top shape.
But until then, being in their cozy arms, sleeping smack dabbed in between them, that might as well be the key on your quick road to recovery.
The SatoSugu cure, indeed!
2K notes · View notes
Note
more sunshine! gojo and grumpy!f reader pleaseeeeeeee I ship so hard
you got it baby
her rage keeps him going.
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summary: gojo satoru is trying to get his grumpy girlfriend's attention by flirting with another girl at a party. wrong move. pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader content warnings: jealousy, reader being a badass, gojo being madly in love, cursing, adult themes at the end, borderline toxic gojo satoru?
Masterlist
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"Baby."
"Baby."
"Baby."
"Sugarpie."
"Honeybunch-"
"Yes, Satoru?" You sigh, trying to finish the report you need to give Yaga. The frown deepens on your forehead as Satoru moves to sit in front of you, head leaning in, blocking your view of the paper completely.
"Sato-"
"Let's watch a movie." He blatantly says. "I'm bored."
You take a deep breath, pushing his head away. "I'm kind of in the middle of something, Toru."
Recently Yaga has been giving you more reports to fix. It's the kids' reports that are either too messy or filled with too many unnecessary details. It keeps on piling and piling and piling on top of your own work and you barely have time to do... anything, really.
And Satoru being Satoru, is not interested in paperwork. So you have to pick up his share as well, and it's sending you over the edge.
"Come on~" He whines, "It's been a while since you and I spend time together."
"We live under the same roof," You counter, "We go home and leave for work together every day."
He huffs, "It's not the same and you know it."
You sigh, promising him you'll watch something with him soon, but of course, you being busy, it gets forgotten. And it stays that way for a few days until the spring break party Jujutsu High decides to have.
You haven't properly talked to Satoru since then. You know he's upset that you've been so busy, but there's honestly not much you can do. You can only hope he understands and he'll be a bit more patient until things die down at work.
But of course, it doesn't happen that way.
You have to attend the spring break party just as Satoru is also required to. There aren't many people to begin with, but there are some new faces. New and pretty faces.
Stepping into the hall, you cringe at the sight. The higher ups are looking to create a new impression on the new students. It seems they want to look more approachable and 'trendy', seeing how the hard way didn't work so much with your and Satoru's generation.
It looks like a really bad frat party.
"What in the world..."
"Just drink." Shoko hands you a tequila shot while she downs one herself, "We've done more than enough these past few weeks, who cares what this party is about."
You drink the shot and cringe even more at the sharpness. "Oh God- this is horrible."
"It'll get the job done," Shoko chuckles, already downing her second shot.
Sighing, you scan the room to find Satoru. You figure with the spring break coming, you'll have more free time and you both can finally take a vacation together. As an apology for being so busy lately, you've bought tickets and you want to surprise him.
"Hey, have you seen Sato- Oh you've gotta be kidding me."
In your eyesight is Satoru talking very closely to a woman. She's not anyone you know, but from her body language, she's not anyone you want to know. Your eyes squint to assess the situation -- maybe you're overthinking this? Maybe she's just like Miwa, she just admires him- nope. That hand slowly trailing up and down Satoru's arm is not friendly at all.
And Satoru is allowing all of this?
"Shoko," You call her, "Let's go play darts."
"Uh-oh."
Satoru's doing it on purpose. He knows it will irritate you, and he knows technically he shouldn't be doing this, but you've been so busy lately and he's desperate for your attention.
Borderline toxic? Maybe, but again, he's desperate.
And it's not like he's interested in this girl who's talking to him about something she did the other day -- he can't even remember her name. But when he sees you shooting glares his way, a small smirk plays on his lips because he knows he's caught your eye.
He just didn't expect you to take it into such extreme measures.
One second you're sitting by the bar with Shoko, and suddenly there's a red dart that whooshed its way between Satoru and this girl. The dart is right in front of her eyes, almost scratching her nose.
"Oops," He hears the threat in your tone despite the smile on your face. "Looks like I missed my mark."
"By a mile..." Shoko mutters. The target board isn't even anywhere near where Satoru is standing.
You make your way to Satoru and the girl whose face has turned white. "I'll just take that-" you pull the red dart that's quite stuck in the wall, but not before sparing the girl a cold glare, "and if you'll excuse us, I'd like to have a little talk with my boyfriend here."
Satoru lets you drag him by the arm outside. To be completely honest, he's quite turned on. Seeing your possessiveness over him, your rage, your jealousy, he wants all of it.
"Are you done acting up- mmp!"
Satoru pulls you to him, his hand keeping your neck in place so he can kiss you properly while also not letting you escape. He forces his tongue into your mouth, taking your breath away completely.
"Satoru-"
He shushes you, lifting you from the ground to sit on the bench, your legs straddling his waist while still making out with you.
"I'm not done talking-" You finally push him away with a pant. "What's gotten into you?!"
You notice something poking your ass and you slap his shoulder, "Are you seriously getting turned on right now?!"
"Mm, baby," He tries to kiss you again, "You know I love it when you yell at me."
You scoff and grab his chin roughly. "So you did all of that just because you wanted some attention?"
Satoru gulps.
"Are you really that needy, Satoru? Hm?" You tilt your head, peeling his blindfold off. "I guess I have been neglecting you and your needy cock for a while, huh?"
He nods helplessly.
"I guess it is partially my fault for leaving you unattended for so long," Your hand travels down to grab his cock through his pants. "But just so we're clear, Satoru... don't ever pull that shit again, understand?"
He moans and nods his head again.
"Good." You peck his lips, "You're mine. And I don't let anyone just touch what's mine."
Satoru could come right then and there.
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bigfatbimbo · 1 month
Note
saw ur post ab the vees and i wasn't sure if u wanted nsfw rambles or sfw rambles so like... i'll send the sfw rambles in a separate ask 😭
anywaysss im thinking ab putting them all in their place.... maybe they're all arguing over you or being pissy to eachother in general so you punish them all- seperately ofc, u cant have them getting off in eachothers pleasure bc ik damn well they'd be into watching you fuck someone else especially another one of the vees
i am always willing to rant about the vees🙏🙏🙏
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summary — The Vees being humbled by the reader in the form of loose, unprofessional headcanons and vague thoughts.
warnings — dom reader, sub… everyone else, very messy, not proofread, read at the risk of incoherence
a/n — I HATE THEM SO MUCH!! THEY’RE THE WORST!! Let’s as a society fuck them to tears.
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So, unpopular opinion, I’ve see a few ideas of being the vees collective lay or ‘plaything’ fucktoy, and the idea is so much more fun with a dom reader.
And i’m saying that objectively too, like not just as a dom reader blog. Because these are three people who make up the worst aspects of society, and lowkey are basically just manipulation tactics personified. Propaganda the trio!
Looking at these cocky assholes, who are the embodiment of what is considered terrible people, and who all have unmatched mathematically impossibly high egos, would it just be so fun to fuck the pride out of them?
Especially, for example, let’s say you’re around a lot and you’ve become a trusted person a good fuck for the Vees. They all have terrible attention seeking tendencies, so it would be safe to assume they’d be all over you.
Vox would be trying to talk to you about whatever particular subject he thinks is most interesting (about himself) to capture your attention, while Velvette would be close to you as well, flicking her phone your direction to show you something she finds funny or hot, but mainly as a subtle power-play to get your attention off Vox and onto her.
Valentino would be much less subtle, of course, by nature. He’d be all up around you, touching you, running his hands along your shoulder blades as he walks past, and probably the type to ‘drop something’ and bend over to flash you his fishnets and panties.
Needless to say, they’re all pissing each other off immensely. Obviously, being short tempered people, this leads to an argument because Velvette was ‘talking to you first’ but Vox had ‘actually important things to say’ and according to Valentino ‘the two of you were boring them out of their minds’ and he had to ‘spice your day up.’
Unfortunately for the Vees, you don’t do your one ‘job.’ Your attention isn’t given to any one of them. Yet. You just simply sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone and flicking through channels. Maybe you even actually leave the tower and go eat out or something.
Of course, until later when you pick them off one by one. And no matter who you decide to fuck senseless first, they will be so obviously loud just to be petty because, after all, you did choose them first. Like they would be being obnoxiously vocal about how ‘full they are’ or how ‘you’re going so fast!’ or some other fake shit like that. It’s honestly a whole show. Now, I feel like fucking all of them at the same time is kind of inevitable, because they’re all deprived horny freaks on the lowkey. (Except for Val it’s very highkey.) But I think there would be little mannerisms that appear on one on one sessions that they would NEVER show during a foursome. For example, Vox’s certain… titles he uses. mommy kink mommy kink mommy kink. Because he would literally die before calling you mommy or daddy in front of Velvette or Val. It’s okay when it’s just you because it’d be easier to be vulnerable around someone he trusts to set his dominance fully aside for.
And like, yeah, the other Vees know he gets fucked just like the rest of them, but it’s simpler for him to keep his illusion of dominance and respect out side of the bedroom, if the more shamefully submissive aspects of himself stayed hidden.
Also, I think Valentinos would have an easier time actually giving into to subbing during one on one sessions. Like yes, he does sub when it’s with you all the time. That’s the point of the fic.
But he’s less of a power bottom, and his flirtatious, incredibly disgusting remarks subside much faster into whimpers and whining.
Because, although less professional than Vox, he does still have an image. And when it’s just you fucking him, his vile horny comments disappear into whines for your attention in no time. Well actually a lot of time, but the point is that they actually do. And similar to Valentinos, Velvette’s confidence when bottoming alone with you is increasingly less apparent. Yea, she’s still bossy and definitely a power bottom, but there’s more of a recognition that she isn’t in charge. Honestly, she’s such a princess I think she’d actually have a very hard time going into subspace, even when alone. Because degradation just pisses her off. Why aren’t you worshipping her like you should be? But then it’s, what the fuck, why aren’t you worshiping her like you should be?? It makes her brat out even harder, which she does show in front of the other Vees, until she’s actually just needy to be pleased and given pleasure, making her twice as whiny. That aspect she does not show in front of the vees. But let’s talk about group sex with the Vees. Probably only used as a severe punishment, or a surprisingly giving reward. I have a very particular scene for the severe punishment aspect, however. So they’ve all been bad, but let’s say, for the sake of specifics to set the scene, Val has been worse. It is still a punishment for Vox and Velvette, but punishing them all to the same extent when Val has misbehaved clearly more would be wrong, would it not? They’re all greedy, selfish assholes, so you’ve concocted the perfect form of torture for your useless brats; they don’t receive anything until they’re good. Especially Val. Velvette has a strap on, so she can’t even feel anything but minor friction when you slide your worked open ass onto the plastic dick and open your legs, exposing your empty pussy to none other than Vox. He eats you out reluctantly, while rutting into the mattress as fast as he could, all while you cockwarm (and sometimes roll your hips to press the strap against her pussy uncomfortably) Velvette. Oh, and where’s Valentino? Tied up in a chair in front of the bed, getting a perfect shot while being totally naked and hard. You have a gag in his mouth too, because otherwise he’d be complaining the whole time. Because that’s just not fair, is it? He does this all day for a living. Seriously, he watches people fuck all day. It was his turn to feel something! And you would only have punished him more if he’d done something about this at work today. (Yikes..) I mean, this sounds like complete and utter bullshit. A lose-lose situation! But, it actually is completely fair. And as you’re receiving all the pleasure, from Velvettes feelingless, fake dick, Vox’s tongue while he humps the bed pathetically, and Val’s whines in complaint, you know the punishment is working. You’ve bothered them behind belief, you’ve hit a spot you knew would leave a message. Because none of the attention is on our poor little trio at all. These naturally selfish, greedy people, have to finally give. And god, they’re becoming more desperate for your attention and praise by the second.
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a/n — We all know I love sub Vox. But this opened by eyes to how much I love sub Velvette and Valentino. REQUEST THEM ALL MORE.
Also, Rose, I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU FOR A FIRE ASF PROMPT.
if this flops im throwing myself out of a window btw
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gurugirl · 2 months
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the fleshlight blurb | subrry
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Based on this request!
Summary: Harry has to go on a business trip without Y/n so she gets him a special toy to use while he's away and she tells him to send her a video of him using it.
Word Count: 1,536
Warning: smut (masturbation), sub/dom dynamics, descriptions of Harry's sperm making a bit of a mess
. . .
"So what do you think?" She bit her lip as Harry looked down at the custom fleshlight, made to look like her own pussy. The outside was a replica of her vulva.
"I love it," he looked up at her with a sweet grin. "So you're asking me to bring this with me on my two-week business trip? To like? Use as a replacement for you?"
Y/n laughed and shook her head, "I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. Since I can't be there, I don't want you to just be stuck with your hand or those poor hotel pillows. I want you to feel like I'm there with you."
Harry was obviously over the moon about the gift. He'd never had a fleshlight before but he'd definitely be missing Y/n while he was away. She was his safe haven. His respite from his demanding job and title. Harry was a CEO at a banking company and he called the shots all day. He was the boss. But when he got home to his Y/n, he would let her take care of him and take over so he could finally relax.
. . .
"I want you to use the toy I got you tonight after your meetings. I know you probably need a release so bad don't you baby?" Y/n spoke to Harry through the receiver of his phone on the third morning of his business trip.
"Yes. I didn't touch myself at all just like you told me. Can't wait to use it and pretend you're here with me." He smiled as he spoke. He missed her so much.
"So good for me, Harry. You can pretend you're fucking me tonight. But I want you to make a video so I can see how it looks on you. Want to watch how you use it and watch you come."
Harry was good at following Y/n's instructions. He always only wanted to please her. And all day as he was meeting with other CEOs, eating lunch, and listening to presentations he couldn't stop thinking about finally getting to come while using his new fleshlight. He was so pent up and stressed out and he missed her just like he always did when she couldn't go with him on business trips and help him unwind.
He ate dinner in a rush, excusing himself from the group of men lingering over cocktails and personal stories Harry had no interest in hearing. His excuse was that he wasn't feeling very well and needed to lie down and relax. Which wasn't a complete lie. He really did wish to relax after an orgasm which would make him feel better.
Back in my room now. Wish you were here with me to help me unwind. Can you please send me something to look at while I use the toy you bought me?
Y/n grinned upon seeing the text and took a few pictures of her tits with her thumbs over her nipples. He loved her tits. Loved sucking on them and nuzzling into them. He often fell asleep with his head lying over her chest as he was kissing them softly.
He groaned when he saw the pictures she sent as he kneed up onto his hotel bed with his cock in his hand. He set up his personal laptop to begin the video of himself and angled it so it showed everything. He could even watch himself this way which made it hotter.
Using the lube he brought with him from home, he smoothed it over his tip and down his shaft as he began to grow harder and harder and he looked into the camera and let out a heavy breath as he situated himself and knelt on his bed, facing the headboard. Letting go of his heavy, thickened cock he picked up the fleshlight and moaned as he kissed around the polymer mold and propped up the picture of Y/n, wishing it was her that his lips were pressed against, "Wish I was tasting your pussy. Wish you were grinding on my face and getting yourself off on my nose and my tongue, Y/n..." he whined. That was his favorite. Loved it when she pushed him down and sat on his mouth and made herself come. Harry would die a happy man with her smothering him like that.
But he was so horny and so impatient he didn't take too long to lap at the mineral-based sleeve as he drizzled a healthy amount of lube inside before pressing his fingers through the interior to spread the slick along the plushy toy and hearing a nice wet squelch. It wasn't the same, but it felt nice.
Placing a hotel towel over a pillow, Harry propped that between his knees before he looked from the picture of her tits to the camera as he placed one palm on the big wooden headboard to keep himself stabilized on his knees and then cupped the toy with his other fist before he pressed inside.
The toy had a similar appearance to her labia he noted as he pushed inside. It wasn’t nice and warm like Y/n was, but it felt good to have his cock touched nonetheless. Even if it was just a fleshlight.
"Oh fuck..." he slowly began to thrust himself in and out, holding it steady with his hand as he rocked into the toy. His muscles were straining, thighs flexing with every thrust.
His heart rate began to rise with every slick push and pull of his shaft, the end of the toy was open (for practical purposes as Harry's cock was quite lengthy) so his pink tip punched through every time he pressed himself in all the way. He knew that if he were inside of Y/n that would be the spot where her cervix was.
"Ohhh... I need you..." he whimpered as his lips parted and he began to fuck into the polymer material with more force.
The sound of fucking a fleshlight was different than the sound of fucking wet pussy. It sounded synthetic but still slippery and wet. But fuck if it didn't feel amazing wrapped around his thick girth and cupping his tip on each plunge. Plus the view of it… It really did look like he was fucking into Y/n’s cunt, pussy lips wrapped around him as he drove in.
“Fuck me…” he groaned as his hips began to stutter. He kept himself held on his knees up with his palm against the headboard, hips rutting and cock twitching as he bucked himself in and in and in… He gripped around the plastic outer part of the toy and watched himself as he masturbated with the toy and felt his thighs begin to tremble.
“Mmm… Y/n… can I come, please? I need it?” He was mumbling and shaking as he looked at her picture and into the camera. He felt himself throbbing as precome began to drip from his tip and down onto the towel he’d placed over the pillow.
His desperate moans grew louder and he grabbed the pillow with the towel and lowered his hips down, humping his cock through the fleshlight and down into the pillow as his face screwed up in pleasure, the intense wave of relief that he felt as he began to pump come onto the terry fabric had him gasping, a soft moan of Y/n’s name falling from his lips.
It was intense. He hadn’t come in days, at Y/n’s directions, so he soaked through the towel and was sure the pillow underneath would be wet.
“Oooohhh…” he rocked his hips down gently into the pillow, stilling himself as every drop of his come was drained from his balls.
When he finally lifted up, he was in a puddle of his come as he slid the toy from his shaft and hissed at how sensitive his tip was. With his fist around his softening cock he looked into the camera, chest still heaving and flushed red, “I came too fast, Y/n. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. M’cock was so achy… made a big mess.”
Y/n was too excited to get the video of Harry. She was not disappointed as she watched the video twice. It was short but it did the trick. Because she missed him just the same.
Harry had just finished cleaning himself up when he heard his phone ringing.
“Baby, I’m so sorry it was short–“
“That’s okay, gorgeous boy. I know you were pent-up. You get a pass today. Tomorrow night we’ll have you do it again but I’m going to be with you on the phone watching the whole time and telling you exactly what I want to see so you’re not finishing so fast. Yeah?”
“Yes. I want that. I miss you.”
“I know you do, baby. Felt good to use that, though?”
Harry grinned and balled up the dirty towel, tossing it to the floor, “It felt nice. Never as good as you, though. Your pussy has a choke hold on me.”
Y/n smiled, “That’s right. Nothing better than this pussy for you, baby. It’ll be that much better when you get back from your trip.”
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OUUH WHAT ABOUT spencer watching her do her makeup, pick out an outfit, get dolled up to go meet his team
fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 498.
a/n: AWW OMG writing this actually gave me cavities. this is probably the fluffiest thing i've ever written on this account!! i really tried to get into the mind of our precious bimbo reader, and i feel like i did a pretty good job if i do say so myself! 😏
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You always liked to say that you did your best work under pressure, so why in the hell wasn’t your eyeshadow… eyeshadowing?
You looked at yourself in the vanity mirror, your gloss covered lips turned down into a deep frown. The lines caused by your frustration left behind little creases in your carefully laid foundation. You were one more mishap from a total breakdown.
“Spence?” You turn around in your porcelain white chair that  completely contrasts the dark coziness that was Spencer’s room. 
Tonight was the night that you were going to meet your boyfriend’s team, which in your mind translated to his family. You had met his mom already, and she liked you, so why were you so intimidated? Maybe it was because these people were like your precious boyfriend just twenty times more terrifying.
Tonight had to go well, or you swear that you might just die!
“Yes, sweetheart?” Spencer responds from behind the book he had his nose buried in. He had been resting against the headboard, the lower half of his body relaxed and his legs were stretched out carelessly. The advantage of being a human string-bean, you supposed.
“Does my makeup look okay?”
Your exasperated tone in your voice forced his eyes away from the page and onto yours.
He was surprised by the light tones of eyeshadow you had picked, they were a lot different from the bold pink, purples, and blues. That could only mean one thing.
“There’s no need to be anxious, honey. You look beautiful.”
Usually, you were very susceptible to Spencer’s praise, often turning bashful and shy, as well as giggling and grinning like a schoolgirl. Nope, not today. Today felt like not even the sweetest of hymns could bring you down from your anxiety ridden stupor.
“Really? Because I don’t know about the color… I feel like the eyeliner makes it look clumpy.”
Spencer Reid was trained for this, if the hours of cosmetology research he had done counted for something. Why you may ask? Well, the first time you had asked him about your makeup was when you two had first started dating, and it had unfortunately gone a little bit like this:
“Does this look okay?”
“It looks fine, angel.”
“Oh God, I should just start over, shouldn’t I?”
“That’s not what I said.”
Spencer smiles fondly, “It doesn’t look clumpy at all. In fact I think the dark and light colors complement each other well, they make your eyes look large and enchanting.”
And just like that, all of your apprehension melts away. “Oh, good!” You all but cheer.
He watches with a lovesick smile on his face as you pull out outfit-after-outfit from the closet – that’s really more yours than it is his – with an excited grin.
“How about this one?”
Spencer knows he’s in for a long night; with his book long forgotten, he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that you have an hour before you guys have to leave.
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katiexpunk · 2 months
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Desert Dust | Joel Miller's POV
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Summary: The last place Joel Miller expected to find himself at this point in his life was in a small highway town in Arizona, passing the days by. He never really though he needed more -- until he met you.
Warnings: This is Joel's POV from Desert Dust. Yeah, if you thought he was a consent king in the original, this just further proves it. Tommy comes with his own cheeky warning. No age gap mentioned (make it your own), but Joel mentions feeling old. Joel Miller has a bad back (it's canon). Self-deprecation. Attempted assault (not by Joel)/nothing too graphic (please be responsible about what you consume). Joel beats up a bad guy., and like actually kinda wants to kill him for trying to hurt you. References to blood and first aid. Alcohol. Pet names. Flirting/slow burn. Inexperienced reader. Body hair. References to taste of vagina. Smoking/cigarettes (it's bad, don't do it). Oral (f receiving). Praise 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
A/N: Thank you for all of the love on Desert Dust. Nobody asked for this, but I couldn't get Joel's POV outta my head, so I hope you enjoy a little deep dive into what Joel was thinking when he first walked into that restaurant. Your honor, they're in love. Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications
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Did you ever see a robin weep When leaves begin to die? Like me, he's lost the will to live I'm so lonesome I could cry
The timbre of Hank Williams’ voice fills the truck's cab as Joel drives. It’s early, the sky is just beginning to transition from a deep midnight blue to a gradient of warm orange as the sun gradually emerges. While Joel likes to think of himself as a morning person, his back has other opinions on the matter. It’s to be expected, though, that’s what nearly 30 years of hard labor will do to a man.
The warmth of the thermos in between his thighs contrasts with the chilly morning air pouring in through the cracked window. Smoke dances lazily around his broad frame, a burning cigarette clenched between his calloused fingers. He greedily draws long drags, knowing it’ll be hours before he can have another one. He should quit, he knows he should quit. The half-used pack of Nicorette gum that sits in his cupholder in front of him is proof of that. 
But like picking at a scab or peeling the skin of a sunburn, sometimes we all do things we know we shouldn’t, things that make us feel good, if only for just a minute or two. 
In truth, there isn’t a lot that makes him feel good anymore. Jesus, when did he turn into such a grumpy old man? Probably sometime between Sarah going to college, and Tommy convincing him to take this contract job in the middle of fuck all nowhere.
The silence of a falling star Lights up a purple sky And as I wonder where you are I'm so lone–
Williams’ voice falls silent as Joel turns off the truck, having pulled into the work site. He snubs out the cigarette into the ashtray in the middle of the dash and grabs his jacket, a clipboard, and safety helmet. 
“Another day, another dollar,” he mutters to himself, pulling the handle on the driver's side door. The ground crunches below him, his boots are so dusty he doesn’t think he’ll ever get them clean again. God damn desert dust. He shakes his head and walks to the white trailer in front of him, unsure of why he’s so frustrated in the first place.
“Well aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine this morning,” Tommy says, responding to the quick snap of the door after Joel enters their makeshift office. 
“Don’t,” Joel bites back.
“What’s got your panties in a twist this morning, princess?” Tommy chides, sitting behind a wooden desk covered in blueprints and safety checklists. 
“This really the way you want to start the day, Tommy?” Joel says, voice low and even, masking his emotions. “Just, get to work.” 
He rounds around to the desk opposite Tommy’s and places everything down. The ripped chair lets out a little puff of air under his weight as he sits. 
Tommy, of course, knows what’s eating at Joel. He needs to get fucking laid. 
Tommy can’t even remember the last time he saw Joel with a woman it’s been so long. He was always so focused on Sarah, or growing the company, that he always put himself last. He’s tried to set Joel up on dates, but he always declines, citing he’s too busy or maybe next month. 
And while Tommy doesn’t say anything, it’s as if Joel can practically hear his thoughts. 
“Would you stop thinking so damn loud,” Joel mutters, and Tommy gives him a knowing smirk. “‘M fine. Worry about how we’re gonna finish this project and less about me,” Joel tells him. They both return their attention to their work.
As Joel works to finish up his administrative tasks before the rest of the crew arrives, he tries to shove down the annoyance he feels that maybe Tommy might be right. Maybe it has been too long, besides, rutting his cock into his fist in the shower every night is starting to get old. 
He’s not intentionally trying to avoid meeting someone, it’s just that nobody’s ever really caught his attention, not in any genuine way. He knows he’s attractive, but it might as well be poison to him for the types of women he attracts – it’s all fake tits, tight jeans, and money-hungry cougars just looking for someone to show them a good time. 
Just as he starts to think all of the good girls might be gone – he meets you.
++++ 
God, either this booth is uncomfortable or his back is getting worse. He tries to relieve some of the pressure by hunching over for a second. Nope, that’s worse. He sits up to full height and that’s a little better, for now, at least. He looks at the menu in front of him. He thinks about ordering a burger, but with how busy it is, he’s not confident it would come out in time before his lunch break ends. Besides, he told Tommy he would be back in less than 30. 
He didn’t intend to stop, he was just looking for an excuse to clear his head. But when he went to grab his coffee, he realized he had left it on his desk. He’d taken the highway exit to get to the restaurant by chance, hoping he might find a Starbucks or something quick. But nope, as it usually goes in small towns, the only coffee place nearby is where he currently sits. 
He notices you coming up to the table out of the corner of his eye and turns his head to look at you. 
Shit – you’re beautiful. He thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He watches as your thighs come flesh with the edge of the table, a coffee pot in your hand. 
"Hi," you say, he notices your voice is soft. "Can I get you something to drink?"
He’s so fucked. You even sound pretty. 
Your eyes find him, and he swears he feels something shift, electricity courses through him. You’re the first person to look at him, actually look at him, in years. He tries to keep his face level, not wanting to give away any of what he’s thinking. 
His eyes drift down to your chest until he notices the nametag pinned to your shirt. Cute name. It matches your pretty face. He internally chuckles to himself when he notices the coffee stains and what he thinks might be ketchup on your shirt. It makes him smile, mostly because he’s no stranger to wearing food himself, although you’re a waitress, it makes more sense to him that you’d be a little messy, a little dirty. He doesn’t quite have the same excuse. 
Distracted, it dawns on him that he’s probably staring. Stop being weird, she doesn’t need some old man gawking at her while she’s just trying to do her job, you fucking creep. 
He moves his eyes to the coffee pot in your hand. Right. The whole reason he’s here in the first place. 
 "Just coffee, darlin'," he says, watching as you pour some into the mug that was already waiting on the table. 
“You let me know if I can get you anything else,” you whisper.
He thinks he might pass out when he sees your smile. So, so fucked. 
“Just coffee for me today, sweetheart, thank you.” 
He internally grimaces when he realizes he’d let sweetheart slip, hoping it didn’t weird you out. You can take the man out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the man. He tries not to stare as he watches you walk away, but he can’t help himself. 
Sitting in silence, he nurses his coffee and tries to ignore the annoying glances that he seems to be getting from, well, everyone. He feels like he might as well have a giant arrow above his head screaming I’m horny for the waitress. He knows he’s looking at you more than he should, but like a moth to a flame, he just can’t seem to look away. He wonders how long you’ve worked here, and what your story might be. He wonders if you’re happy. Why the hell would he be wondering that? He just met you, for fucks sake. 
He’s just another customer. 
The establishment itself is pretty much what’d you expect for a small-town dive, the smell of grease and hamburgers wafting through the air. The portions are huge, and the coffee is good. There’s just one annoying thing about it, and he quickly learns her name is Tracy. 
He only knows this because she’s quick to offer it up, calling him baby and sugar, pestering him like a fly. She’s attentive in a way that’s forced, suffocating in every possible way. He can tell she’s the type of woman who craves the attention of any man who’s willing to give her the time of day, the type of woman that lets her boobs do all the talking. He’s lonely, yes, but he’s not desperate. He wants nothing more than for you to refill his coffee, just so he can hear your voice again, but she makes it near impossible. 
More than three cups of deep, but still bone tired, he feels his phone vibrate in his jeans and he knows it’ll be Tommy asking where he’s at. He pulls it out and sure enough. He looks around the restaurant, hoping maybe he might be able to cash out with you, but you’re nowhere to be seen. 
He opens his worn leather wallet, the same one he’s had since Sarah gifted it to him all those years ago, only to find a handful of $20s. He drops one on the table and decides it’s not worth it to ask Tracy for change; he could go the rest of his life never talking to her again and be fine with it. 
He silently slips out of the restaurant, and his curiosity about you nearly drowns him on the drive back. 
But this time when he walks into the trailer, he can’t help the cheesy grin that involuntarily appears on his face. 
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Tommy teases, his words slightly muffled from the bite of PB&J in his mouth, the sticky tack of peanut butter glued to the roof of it. 
“Shut up,” he says, but there’s no bite behind it. 
++++
The days turn into weeks, and he tries to step away from work, he does. Every day he tries to find an excuse to go in and see you, a reasonable time to step away for an hour or so. But it’s hard, project demands are at an all-time high, and the client is up his butt, freaking out they won’t be done in time. He works overtime, arriving earlier than usual and leaving close to midnight nearly every night. 
Joel Miller is a lot of things, but above all, he’s a man of his word. He and his brother didn’t build this company by being late or half-assing work. We’ll get it done, he reassures the client. And they will, he’ll make sure of it. 
“Joel, get up man,” Tommy says, shaking his shoulder. He jolts awake, his vision a little fuzzy, slightly disoriented. 
He must have drifted off during his lunch break and passed out cold on his keyboard. When he finally comes to, he automatically feels a twinge in his lower back. He’ll pay for that little nap later, he can already tell. 
“You’ve been working too hard, why don’t you call it a day, go home, and get some sleep? I’ve got it here for the rest of today,” Tommy offers. As much as they fight, there is a mutual understanding there – respect, even love, although they’ll both never admit to that outright. 
He starts to protest, but the pain in his back tells him that maybe he’s right. Lord knows he could benefit from a hot shower and a good night's rest, but even those things, things that should be relaxing, don’t offer him any respite. When he’s not thinking about work, he’s thinking about you. Your kind, soft eyes, and warm smile have sunk their teeth into his mind, and no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t seem to shake you. 
A rather frustrating fact, considering you’ve probably forgotten all about him. Just another customer, he’s just another customer. 
On the drive back home, he realizes he’s not far off from the exit to the restaurant. You’re probably not even working, and he knows he might be risking seeing Tracy again, but fuck it.  Before he has time to talk himself out of the decision, he’s pulling into the parking lot. 
He’s surprised at how quiet the restaurant is, a lot different from his first visit. He looks at his watch, it’s close to 3 o’clock, and from the state of the place, he can tell the lunch rush likely just finished. He tries to not be obvious about the fact that he’s scanning the place, looking for something, someone. You. 
He sees you before you see him. You look – focused. He can tell you’re a little worn out, but fuck if you aren’t still adorable. He flexes his hand open and closed a few times, trying to calm nerves he didn’t even know he had anymore. 
He grins a little as you tell him to take a seat wherever you want, as he watches intently as you throw the final pieces of flatware into the bin. He’s kind of impressed with how quickly you cleaned up the mess, how easily you hoist the heavy bus bin onto your hip. 
When you finally notice him, he lifts his hand in a silent hello. 
You look cute when you’re surprised. He can tell he’s caught you off guard. Like you weren’t expecting him. He notices as you scan his body, taking him in. He wonders if you feel this too, whatever the fuck this is. 
“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. The smile and obvious excitement that washes over your face tells him everything he needs to know. 
He’s a customer. But what if he was more than that? 
Jesus. 
No. 
He’s just a customer. 
He decides that the booth by the window looks decent enough. The booth and his back fight once more, but he eventually gets comfortable. When you greet him again, your smile and soft voice melt into him, making him forget all the stress of the past few weeks. It takes him a second before it dawns on him that he hasn’t responded to you, that he hasn’t said anything. Talk to her, say something…say anything. 
“I was, uh hoping you’d be here,” he says, realizing how cringe he probably sounds. Has he always been this bad at flirting?
But before he can recover, Tracy swoops in like a hawk, eager to monopolize his attention. He watches as you sink back into the depths of the restaurant, leaving him with her. No, come back. 
She's quick to bring him a menu, some coffee, and offer him a selection of homemade pies, her enthusiasm bordering on overwhelming. He’s being rather curt with her, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s not interested, but the more he seems to ignore her, the stronger she comes on. He’s a thin thread away from telling her to just fuck off, but he doesn’t want to be rude. Besides, he knows you’re busy. He might not get to talk to you this time, but he will – or at least he hopes he will – especially if everything goes according to his plan. 
He’s not even sure if what he intends to do can be classified as a plan. Hell, he’s just glad that he even has a spare business card in his wallet. 
He scans the dining room for you, and once he spots you, he rises from the booth and intentionally catches your eye. With the worn card in hand, folded between the folds of some cash, he hopes that you understand his message when he nods and tucks it under the coffee cup. Please call. He’s not sure he’s ever been more hopeful for anything, ever. 
He swings by the grocery store on his way home, picking up some beer and a frozen pizza, too tired to cook anything real for dinner. He sinks into the cushions of his couch and tries to drown out his hopefulness with the distraction of T.V. But, he’d be lying if he said his heart rate doesn’t quicken with every notification that comes through his phone. 
But you don’t call or text. 
He thinks that maybe you’re just trying to play it cool, not wanting to come across as too eager. 
But as the days go on, still not a peep from you, he tries to shove down the darker thoughts that cross his mind. Maybe he had misinterpreted the signals you were giving him, misread the energy that feels palpable when you’re next to each other. Maybe he’s just out of practice. Not your type. 
You don’t want him. Why would you? He’s just some contractor, an old washup. Probably one of dozens of men who spend their nights waiting, wishful and hungry for even just a glance from you. One of the dozens of men who spew hot loads of come onto their bellies alone at night brought to a tipping point thinking about how sweet you might sound chanting their name, how tight your pussy would feel gripped around their cock. 
Fuck. 
++++
Some weeks later, he’s pulling another late night at the job site. And when the fluorescent lights get to be too much, he decides to call it a night. He can’t quite put a finger on it, but there’s a gnawing in the pit of his stomach, a silent feeling like he should swing by the restaurant – maybe even apologize for coming on too strong or weirding you out. Before he can even rationalize what he’s doing, he’s once again pulling into the parking lot. Except – 
Somethings wrong. 
There’s only one car in the parking lot, and the neon open sign remains lit, but something feels…off. 
He can feel it, like some sort of primal instinct laying dormant in his body has woken up.
It all happens so fast, faster than his mind can register. When he sees you, struggling in the hands of some fucker, he intervenes. He moves fast, doesn’t think twice, just lets his body take over. He pulls the man off of you, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his blood red hot, and his jaw tense. 
“I’d think twice if I were you before you try and win this one,” he says, voice low and threatening. Don’t make me go to jail tonight. 
He’s not surprised he hits the guy as hard as he does. He barely feels it, the bone-crunching under his fist. He’d probably kill the guy if you weren’t right there, watching his every move. It’s not a fair fight, not really. Joel knows he’s bigger and stronger, and has the unfair advantage of being sober. He can tell he probably broke the guy's nose, and that’s probably punishment enough. He drags the man out of the establishment and tells him to get the fuck out and never come back. He hopes the warning is enough, the message clear that if he tries to touch you again, ever, it’ll end worse. He’ll make sure of that. 
He locks the door and turns to face you. You look so – scared. So innocent, shaken, like a baby deer who just saw its mother get hit by a truck. He even thinks for a second that you might be afraid of him, a thought that makes his heart sink. I would never hurt you. He brings both of his hands to the sides of your arms – keeping the touch intentionally light, with a gentle, reassuring grip. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe now. 
“You alright?” he asks, watching with concern as you try and put on a brave face. God, he hates to see you cry, hates that anything could ever make you cry. He can tell you’re trying to avoid looking at him, not wanting him to see your vulnerability.
It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you.  
He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and uses the edge of his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. God, you’re perfect. 
The hand that meets his is soft until a sharp sting comes to his attention. He watches as 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. Fuck that guy. He wishes he would have given him just a little more, maybe a black eye or two. 
"You're hurt," you say, the tears in your eyes now replaced with genuine concern. 
He can tell you’re worried about him, a fact that makes him feel a little fuzzy inside. 
"It's okay, don't worry about it, doesn't hurt," he tries to reassure you. And he is. He’s suffered worse, nothing that won’t be better in a day or two, even if it does sting like hell right now.
"We've got a first aid kit in the back. Let me clean you up," you insist, nodding towards the rear of the room.
He doesn’t want you to have to put up with that right now, especially after everything that just happened. 
"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. 
Fuck, you’re so sweet. So perfect and sweet. You could ask him for the moon and he’d try to find a way to lasso it down for you. 
His heart quickens as you interlace your fingers with his on his left hand and guide him through the restaurant. He even chuckles a little to himself when you tell him to watch his step. You’re being so nice, he can’t be misinterpreting this – there’s no way. But why didn’t you call? The question weighs heavy on his mind. 
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. He leans against the desk, quietly observing you, taking in the fact that he’s here, in this tiny office, with you. That you care enough to help him. That he cares enough to protect 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.
His cock twitches a little when you rip open the alcohol wipe with your teeth, he thinks you might be good with your mouth in more ways than one. 
"This might sting a bit," you warn, meeting his gaze with genuine care. I can take it, baby. He can tell the way you’re being with him right now might be your nature, to want to take care of those around you. To be what they need. 
“‘You can make it up to me later,” he whispers, hoping you’re sensing the intention behind his words. As you’re patting the blood on his knuckles, he feels the need to know why you didn’t call bubble up to the surface, the question at the tip of his tongue. Oh just ask her. 
“Can I ask you something,” he says, looking down at you, not even realizing he’s holding his breath. He exhales when he hears you say mhmm in response. 
Rip off the fucking bandaid man. 
“Why didn’t you call?” 
He watches as 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. As you lean in closer to him, you bring with you the soft scent of your shampoo. You smell like honey and the earthy, clove smell of tobacco. You smell divine.  
“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. How could anyone not want you?
He watches you intently as you stand before him, grateful that you’re being so honest with him. He wishes so badly you would look him in the eye. 
“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. Is she joking?  
He floats his hands 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 seemingly fixed on a button on his shirt. 
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
His hand still hurts a little, a dull throb, but he could care less right now. He trails it up over the side of your body until his fingers land under your chin. Sweet girl. He uses his thumb to tilt you up to look at him. You look so beautiful right now, so raw and so perfect. The soft plush of your lips draws his attention, and he can’t help but touch them.
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,” he hears you whisper, knowing full well that his thumb is still on your lower lip. He wants so badly to know what they’d feel like on his. 
“Ki–” 
Fuck it. 
He drops his hand and leans in to crash his lips into yours, and holy shit. He wants you so fucking bad. He’s never wanted anything, or anyone, more. 
He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and his cock hardens when you let out a little whimper. He holds you tighter to his chest, his thick and capable hands admiring the soft curves of your hips. He needs more, needs to taste your skin, needs to know what it feels like on his lips. He dips his mouth to your neck, kitten-kissing you as delicately as he can. More, he needs more. 
He skims his injured hand underneath your shirt, caressing the skin between your shoulder blades. Jesus, you’re so impossibly soft, your skin feels like silk compared to his. He nips at your jaw, and the soft moan escapes your lips makes him feel feral. 
“Fuck, baby. Wanna go slow with you, take my time. Do it right,” he says, internally acknowledging how wrecked it comes out.
He trails his hand up and pulls the shirt of your uniform down over your breast, exposing the simple lacey bra. Ugh. It’s so much for him, the little moans you keep making for him as he kisses your neck, the way your nipples respond beneath the fabric to his touch.
“Wanna show you what you’re worthy of sweet girl, in all the ways,” he groans into your chest, and he means it.  
“I want you to fuck me so badly,” you blurt out, lost in the delusion of arousal. 
Fuck. Yes. 
His cock is rock hard, so stiff it’s almost painful. He doesn’t even remember the last time he was this hard. 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. More. He needs more. 
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. 
“Can I undress you?” he asks. He wants you to know that you’re in control here, that hel’ll only do what you want him to and nothing more. You call the shots. 
You toe off your beat-up sneakers and work to take off your shirt and bra, and he works to unbutton your skirt. Fucking buttons. He thinks it’s cute the way 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. Perfection. You are perfection.
He frowns a little when he notices you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to hide your body. 
“God damn, sweetheart. Look at you,” he says, taking a small step back and admiring the view. He thinks you’re a masterpiece, a piece of art holding court just for him to gaze at. He’s never really considered himself to be lucky, but he must have done something right to have you right here with him right now. 
He gently grabs the arm you’re covering yourself with and exposes your bare chest. Don’t hide, baby. 
“No need’ta hide from me,” he tries to reassure you. 
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. He smirks at the sound of the deep hum that escapes from your throat, lips still attached to your breast. 
“Feels so good, Joel,” you moan. Just getting started with you. 
He trails kisses down the valley of your breasts, across the soft swell of your stomach, doing his best to whisper sweet praises as he does. It feels so good, so natural when you drape your hands over his broad shoulders and thread your fingers through the curls. It’s been so long since he’s been touched like that, the feeling goes straight to his cock. More. More. More. 
He can tell you’re a little hesitant, maybe a little lost in your thoughts. He does his best to pull you back to him. 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. You look so beautiful looking down at him, your lips slightly parted, your skin shiny from the sheen of sweat, your obvious arousal evident on your face. He wonders what he must look like to you. 
“Can I take these off, baby?” he asks, hooking his thumbs in the band of them. He wants to hear you say it, to permit him to cross that line. 
“You, um, you don’t have to. It’s okay, really…” you shy away. 
Please, he pleads to himself silently. 
He presses his nose into your mound and fuck, you smell so good, he can’t help but moan. 
“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, and it’s true. 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.
“O-kay,” you say on an exhale. 
“I gotcha, don’t worry,” he rasps out, his voice equal parts gentle, and gruff with desire. He wants to reassure you. 
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. He thinks this might be the most perfect pussy he’s ever seen in his life. Making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, he looks at you to make sure you’re okay with him continuing. 
He’s eager, and he’s sure it’s coming across in the way he’s kissing you. 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. 
He thinks he could come right there, with the way you’re looking down at him with lusty doe eyes and biting your lower lip. He watches your face as he gently nudges the tip in. Fuck, you’re so tight. He holds it there for a brief second, his restraint threadbare, before fully thrusting it up into your core. 
“Fuck angel, you’re tight,” he moans as he continues to feel you, eventually putting his mouth back on your pussy, sealing his lips around your puffy clit. He pumps his finger in and out of you and flicks and swirls his tongue where he can feel you need it the most. You’re so wet for him, so tight, so willing. If he weren’t already on his knees, he knows he’d fall to them eventually, he’d worship at your alter every day if you’d let him. 
“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, because you are. He could stay here for hours, making you come for him again and again. 
He can tell you’re close, so he picks up his pace. You’re nearly there, seconds away from giving him what he wants. Just one more – 
“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. Perfect, sweet girl. The taste of your release and the pretty sounds you make coming have his cock aching. He gently hoists your leg off of his shoulder and rises to full height. 
“Such a good girl for me, you come so pretty,” he whispers against your neck, nipping at your jaw until your lips find his. He wonders if you’ve ever tasted yourself before, or if he’s the first to kiss you after eating you out – the thought makes him even harder, to know he might be the first to show you how sweet you taste. 
He watches as you begin to kneel before him. He stops you before your knees touch the floor. 
“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” you ask. He does. Of course he does. He’s just not sure he’d last, but he’d never admit that, besides, there’s something he needs so much more right now. 
“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.
He groans as he feels you bring your palm to cup him through his jeans, drinking in the sensation of your hands tracing over him. His jaw tightens and his head falls back as you work over him. His cock welcomes the attention, too. He’s already leaking, he needs to come so bad.  
“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 intensely. You make quick work of undoing his belt buckle and slip off his jeans and boxers in one swoop. It feels so good to be free of the confines of his pants, the pressure on his cock a little less overwhelming now. 
“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. He can tell you might be a little overwhelmed, but he reassures you. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can take it,” he says, using one hand to grab the back of your thigh and tapping the other. He lifts you with ease and spins you around so you’re sitting on the mahogany desk in front of him. He stands between your legs, holding himself by the base, pumping himself slowly up and down his length with his fist. He stares at your wet, aching hole, wishing he was buried inside of it. The thought dawns on him that he doesn’t have a condom. No, fuck. “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 quite possibly the best sentence he’s ever heard in his entire life. 
He knows it might be a little reckless, but he doesn’t have any reason to believe you’d lie to him.
 “Okay. Open your legs wide for me, baby. Wanna see you,” he says, and you do as he tells you. He sees his hard cock in his hand and opens his mouth to spit on it. You’re wet and ready, but he knows he’s a lot to take, and he doesn’t want to hurt you. 
He admires the way you’re holding your legs open for him, giving him full access to your cunt. He positions himself at your entrance and gently pushes his hips forward so the tip of him is inside of you. Holy fuck. He pauses there, giving you a second to adjust. 
“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. How is he ever supposed to last with your pussy clenched this tight around him. 
He asks if you’re okay, and when you nod, he pushes in a little more, dragging back out of you for only a second, until he’s jutting his hips forward, fully burying himself deep inside of you. Nothing has ever felt this good to him, nothing could ever compare. 
Jesus, think of something else – make this last. He tries to distract his mind, disconnect his cock from his brain, but there’s no point. His primal urges have taken over, his body is losing the war with his mind. 
He sets a slow and steady rhythm at first, dragging in and out of you. He would love to fuck you harder, deeper. He knows he won’t last long, but he doesn’t care, as long as he gets you to come for him one more time. 
“You can fuck me harder, Joel. ‘M not gonna break, I promise,” you coo. His hand flexes tighter, and that’s all he needs. Give the girl what she wants. “Shit, c’mere,” he says, helping you off the desk, steading your legs. He flips you over and presses you against the desk. Your hips are perfectly positioned at the edge. He’s not sure anything could be prettier than you bent over, waiting to once again be stuffed with him. 
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. As good as this feels for him, he can tell that 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 he can tell is gonna be the thing that pushes you over the cliff of your orgasm. 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,” he hears you say, a little 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. 
Yeah, that’s right. Use me.  
And you do. Your pussy pulses around him as the wave of your orgasm takes over you, and it’s borderline too much for him. He’s gotta slow down if he’s gonna last another second. 
“Where do you want me, baby?”
“Inside, please. Want you to fill me up, make me yours,” you beg for him. 
Holy fuck.
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. The immediate release of pressure is exhilarating, probably the best orgasm he’s ever had. He feels his cock pulse out final spurts of come, eliciting shakes from him with each one. He feels weightless like he could fly away and sleep on a cloud.
The sensation of him pulling out is a little much, his cock raw and spent. “Stay there,” he says, scurrying off to the kitchen, looking for something he can give you to help clean you up. His eye catches a roll of paper towels next to the sink and he grabs a handful of them for you. 
When he enters the office, he notices how breathtaking you look post-orgasm, post-fuck. It’s a sight he’ll commit to memory forever. He presses his lips to yours again, drinking in your sweetness once more. He thinks he could kiss you forever and never tire of it. 
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, he admires your features amidst the dim glow of the fire. So beautiful.
“Too long,” you mumble. He lights his own. 
“And you, where are you off to next?” He hears you ask, and he's not sure how to respond.
“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 twirling in the air around you both. 
“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. You. I need to take care of you.
You smile when he winks at you. Gosh, you’re cute when you smile. He wants to be the reason you smile every day. 
You stand there in comfortable silence, leaning up against the wall next to him. He thinks it feels nice to be wanted, to have someone to just be with. 
And when it’s time to go, he offers you his hand and a ride home. He’s pleased when you accept. 
It’s too soon. He knows it’s too soon, but the thought of you in the passenger seat of his truck, feet on the dash, wind in your hair, makes his heart skip a beat. 
He wants more. 
And something tells him you do, too. 
END
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