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almostempty · 1 month

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Kick and Scream

Self Esteem Part 3

Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel catches you on a date and communicates how he feels about it (the only way he knows how).

Warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, blow job, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), jealous!joel, possessive!joel, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, smash and dash, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak, special guest appearance by date night dave, OOC Dave bc I don’t know that man so I made him single, rich, hot, and pervy idc idc idc, more i might be forgetting rn,

Notes: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

Thanks: to EVERYONE who read part 1 and 2, but ESPECIALLY @auteurdelabre for inspiring, I hope you enjoy it bb. I'll try to tag those who specifically asked for more brb, and @strangergraphics

WC: 9.3K (idk it got long and horny heheh)

AO3: HERE | Masterlist: Here

Part 1: Self Esteem

Part 2: Want You Bad

Part 4: The more you suffer

You stare down at the hand that just landed on your thigh, cocking your head in assessment. You can feel the scowl tugging at the corners of your mouth. As you work out what expression you should paste onto your face instead, the man sitting next to you seems unbothered. Maybe even encouraged? He continues his lecture about the benefits of indoor rock climbing. You sigh, staring across the park as he continues without pausing to breathe.

You watch the couples milling around the park, wondering if that’s what you look like with this guy's hand on your leg. You stare back down at it, his long fingers shifting slightly as he continues his animated speech. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, and you feel fidgety. Trapped under the weight of his limp hand. He doesn’t seem to notice when you squirm and readjust. He’s circled back to his earlier lecture about how you just have to learn to play an instrument. If he’d let you get a word in, you could verify that you already do, but he seems to prefer the sound of his own voice.

This guy should get a podcast. The kind where a guy with a microphone talks to himself for three hours about whatever he wants. He’d crush it. You laugh to yourself, unintentionally encouraging him with your smile. He’s not not good-looking. But you’d prefer someone interested in asking you at least one question.

You stifle a laugh at the intrusive thought of taking him home and stripping his clothes off while he prattles on about amateur bird-watching, sorry–birding, or unicycling.

Eventually, you extricate yourself from the disappointing date, accept an awkward hug, and turn down dinner. You haven’t left the parking lot yet when your phone buzzes.

Unsaved number: had a great time with u

Unsaved number: would love to see u again :)

It’s not that your skin crawls, but it is a full-body no.

You: thanks, I’m glad I got to know you more

It’s not technically a lie. You’re glad you learned he’s not a fit for you. You feel okay about leaving it at that for now. You watch the sunset from your parking spot. The park is filled with couples laying on blankets being romantic. You roll your eyes at them and then at yourself for being bitter. Your phone buzzes again, and you wince, hoping it’s not your long-winded date again. It’s not.

Joel: what you doing?

Fucking Miller. You scoff aloud in the private space of your front seat. By now, he should be on your blocked list, but the quick hit of euphoria that floods through your bloodstream, warming your cheeks, keeps you hooked. He’s a filthy drug that blinds you from logic or survival instincts. Your eyes dart to the pedestrians in the parking lot. Worried. As if the milling strangers know what you’re up to and are about to shame you. A little voice reminds you that if you feel guilty about something, you shouldn’t be doing it. You ignore that voice. Nobody in the parking lot catches on, coast clear, and you let yourself grin wide as a fool when you type your response.

Later that night, you’re grinning again. Sprawled across your couch, sweaty skin plastered to the faux leather cushions. Sated. Bought and sold on your own lie, you tell the little voice that you didn’t want Joel to stay anyway. You convince yourself some form of compromise is happening, however twisted, when he shows up and leaves you wrecked. He comes to you. You don’t have to get to know each other to make each other feel good. Whatever puts you at ease.

Sometimes it works. Some days, you feel hollow and anxious. Obsessively tapping your phone to see if he’s responded when you reach out first. Pacing around your home, stressing over whether you should stay up just in case and even in bed, you can’t help but stay alert for a knock at the door.

The cycle leaves you with dark circles under your eyes most days. But, on the mornings after Joel shows up, you have a bright twinkle in your eyes and a knowing smirk that greets you in the bathroom mirror. Katie noticed the smirk one day and called you out. She demanded an explanation for the mystery dick fairy.

You wouldn’t admit his identity to her, afraid of getting too involved with someone in her boyfriend's network. But you did admit to the toxic cycle, and your friend was not as amused as you when you tried to pass it off as a joke. She tried to convince you to look for someone to date, but you argued that wasn’t what you wanted anyway. She suggested at least someone who could commit to a plan or send a text back. You knew it didn’t sound great out loud.

As the days of summer crawl along, you wonder if she’s right. At least, it was worth considering. It’s a feeble attempt to smother your spiraling thoughts about Joel. Still, when you start getting messages from the dating app Katie chose for you, it gives you something to interrupt your racing thoughts. At first. Somehow, it starts to feel even worse. Ignoring the sinking feeling you get when it isn’t Joel’s name in your notifications gets more challenging.

You had accepted that it was a lost cause to plan anything with him, but you still can’t find the self-respect to turn him away when he shows up at your door. Sometimes, he sends you a grammatically inconsiderate text. You wonder if he somehow has a cell phone plan that still charges him by the message with the way he uses as few words as possible.

He never stays. Never invites you to his. He evades any predictable behavior. Maybe he’s worried someone ordered a hit on him. Maybe that’s all it is, you muse. Not a contracted kill. The unpredictability. Chaos. That’s what makes him addictive. The brightness of the highs makes you temporarily forget the darkest lows exist. That, and the dirty little thoughts that pour from his mouth and drip into your psyche. That stupid, sexy voice burning into your memory, yeah, that’s definitely addictive. You snort at that. I am unwell, you think. As you pick up your phone again, you see a message from someone new.

\\\///

Heat radiates off your face as you fling another shirt across the room. You’ve tried on the same three outfits over and over again. Ripping them over your head and tossing them into the pile of laundry purgatory. Maybe sweating and mouth-breathing is a turn-on for your date; if so, you’re gonna nail the first impression. You sigh and commit to option two: the little black dress. A classic, right?

“Shit,” you curse at yourself when you stumble while attempting to pull your shoes on as you walk down the hall. This is what you get for agreeing to a late evening date on a weeknight; you feel like a mess. Scrambling to play it cool and classy, you pause to recalibrate before opening the door. What was his name? You can’t remember. He didn’t look like your usual type, but Katie had convinced you to branch out a little. More specifically, she told you it was a green flag already if he wasn’t your type.

You swing the door open, hoping he introduces himself first. He looks expensive. The dark-washed denim, the boots, the jacket, and the watch. Like he walked out of an ad campaign for a brand out of your budget. Dave. He does introduce himself, thankfully. He’s more clean-cut than your usual type, but he speaks confidently and gives off an air of put-togetherness that intrigues you. His voice definitely stirs the butterflies in your stomach.

Oh. You realize you’ve definitely been busy staring at him and have no idea what he actually said with his sultry bedroom voice. Your eyes widen a little. You don’t wanna fuck this up and embarrass yourself. Luckily, he seems unbothered. He tilts his head with a seductive half-smile. He’s enjoying the way you assess him. That definitely does it for you. Stupid, smug men making you weak in the knees.

“You ready?” he asks, voice all smoky for no good reason.

“Yeah,” you manage to say as you recall how to speak and act human. Until you see his luxury car waiting for you. He clocks your beat of hesitance.

“Good.”

His authoritative voice flips the right switch in you, and you let him lead. When he opens the door for you, it’s like the final component of his spell. You are bewitched. Under a thick veil, you didn’t even notice the truck that rolled by as you sank into the leather seat. You didn’t notice when the truck pulled over up the block, idling noisily on the quiet street. No, you were busy, focused on manually breathing and taking in what you’d describe as the interior of a spaceship.

The good news is that Dave is charming. He is easy to talk to as he drives. Flirty and quick-witted. He asks you questions and pauses to consider your responses. You aren’t sure you have much in common, but you like his self-assured demeanor.

When you walk into the club he’s brought you to, you hesitate once again, feeling underdressed. The club is split with a lounge on one side of the bar–full of intimate booths and plush chairs surrounding tiny tables and trendy mood lighting. Kind of like a swanky hotel lobby, you decide. On the other side of the bar is a dance floor, dimly lit with loud music blasting. Women in bodycon dresses and heels fill the room. You feel plain in comparison.

“I didn’t know there was a dress code,” you mutter.

“There isn’t,” Dave asserts, “besides, you look good in this.” He accentuates his statement by running his hand down your spine. It settles some of your nerves and lights up others. He ushers you, hand on your lower back, towards a small booth. And as you settle in, he’s undeniably charismatic. Dave doesn’t reveal much about himself but keeps you laughing and seems genuinely interested in you.

Despite the loud music and people noise, it’s easy to feel like the room is only for you and him. You sip your drink and warm up to his affection. You’re quick to smile, and despite how serious he seems, he has a playful edge that has you on your toes.

You can taste the chemistry between you, bright and sparkling. He spurs your confidence with his dark eyes when he not so subtly lets his gaze linger on your body. You stop shying away from attention and try to bask in it instead. It boosts your ego and stirs up your desire.

When you let yourself look, really look, you decide Dave is handsome. His strong features, broad shoulders, and impeccable grooming work for him. He seems meticulous but not too uptight to have fun. A dark sense of humor flirts behind his twinkling dark eyes. You decide to let him know that you’ve determined he is a handsome man. He gives you a look. Like he already knew you thought that. Your cheeks warm slightly at that. Were you obvious?

It’s not until he peels away from you to refill your drinks that you notice how close you have been sitting. You mourn the loss of his body heat as he walks away. You had low expectations after your last few dates, but tonight, this feels different. Your eyes trail along his path to the bar, and you lazily rest your chin in your palm before your breath hitches, and you freeze.

You feel like you’ve swallowed a bowling ball. It’s lodged in your throat first, then constricting your chest, until finally, it sinks. A heavy, solid weight flipping your stomach. You’re locked on a different set of dark eyes. They’re glowering at you through lowered brows from across the room. Seated at the same bar where Dave ordered your drinks.

Joel stares at you over his drink. He downs the glass without taking his eyes off of you. One quirked brow, asking really?

Really what? Is he judging you? For what, being on a date?

Another glass replaces his empty tumbler, but he doesn’t acknowledge the bartender or the rest of the world.

This fucking guy.

The bowling ball in your gut mutates into something fiery. But, you have nothing to be guilty about. It’s not your fault he’s alone, bitter, and drinking at a bar full of people having more fun than him. In fact, you could say it’s his fault that you’re both here.

A scowl forms on Joel’s face when Dave slides back into the booth beside you. Good. You hope he suffers. You hope he sees how easy it is for someone to treat you well. And how happy you look.

You don’t hesitate to lean your body against Dave, giving in to your urges. You squeeze his arm when he makes you laugh, and your touch lingers. He preens under your admiration when you comment on his firm biceps. He is quick to match your advances. Finding excuses to brush your hair behind your ear and settling a heavy palm on your knee. His hand creeps a little higher up your thigh but doesn’t graze the hem of your dress. Respectful. That’s different.

You don’t need to look again to feel Joel’s eyes burning into you. It incites you that he has the audacity. The gall to make faces at you for showing up on a date. You decide you’ll give Joel something to scowl about, feeling emboldened by your date’s touch.

You slide Dave’s hand further up your leg, letting go when he gets the idea. You reach for your drink, feigning nonchalance, but your breath catches, and your hand trembles when he traces his fingertips around the crease of your thigh. He skirts beneath the hem of your underwear, drawing lines over your hip and back towards your center.

The soft touch tickles deliciously, and you feel the anticipation building in your core. He watches your expression, hawklike, noting the tiniest details in the features of your face. He notes when your breath stutters or your eyelids flutter softly.

“This what you wanted?” he husks, still watching intently. Yes, yes, yes!

“Almost,” you toy. Something about having both men’s eyes on you has your skin itching with desire and your blood running hot.

Dave scoffs softly, repeating your word choice and shaking his head. Almost.

“You looking for more?” he taunts as he wedges his large hand fully between your legs to cup and tease your cunt.

You can’t help the breathlessness of the yes that slips out of you. You roll into his palm, and your mouth parts at the friction and his boldness. He smiles wolfishly, flashing his teeth, when he feels you twist and rock against him. His look encourages you. And you tilt your hips and shift your legs to give him better access.

“Dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he asks, still locked on your face. You swell at this. His eyes lower to your glossy lips before he sips casually from his drink, so composed.

Your cheeks warm at his words, but he has his answer when he slips a finger beneath the damp lace between your legs and drags it through the pool of arousal gathering at your entrance. Your lips part at the contact, chest heaving, and you give him a nod and coy smile in response to his question. You’ll be his dirty little thing tonight.

“That’s good,” he declares, pressing a kiss just below your ear before adding, “I’d like to do dirty things to you.”

His husky voice and declaration stir an urgent need to be touched within you. He continues to agitate your nerves as his hand massages over your swollen sex. Your skin feels tight and prickly, tensing, ready to feel more. You’re unconcerned with the debased nature of being fingered in public.

When your eyes are instinctually drawn back towards Joel, you shudder. You can feel the twitching of your clit as your cunt floods over Dave’s fingers. The depravity that another man’s glare eases the slip of your date’s teasing touch is not lost on you. Instead, it turns you on even more. Joel’s homicidal stare has you squirming. You’ve seen darkness in his eyes before, but not like this. There’s no twinkle of mocking, and it’s not cruel in a hot way. If looks could kill, then this room would look like the club scene from Blade.

Dave murmurs something filthy in your ear that makes you gasp. Your hand flies to his thigh, gripping tightly to keep you from melting onto the floor.

“Don’t be shy, dirty girl,” he croons darkly, “you can touch.”

“Fuck,” you groan under your breath when you move your hand to find his hard cock straining against his well-fitted jeans.

He chuckles lowly at the way your eyes widen in response before he plunges two fingers inside of you, and you stifle a throaty sound. Your mind still wanders to Joel, and you wonder if he can see your perverse display below the table. Judging by his clenched fists on the bar, you’d say whatever he can see is enough to fill in the blanks. The sick part of you that feels more turned on by his agony expands within you.

“Oh god,” you whisper as you suck in air.

Dave works his fingers lazily into you. You feel intoxicated by the attention of both men. A concern flashes through you that someone else in the club could catch on or see more than you’d like to show. But a feeling in your gut tells you that it doesn’t matter. Dave seems strikingly confident with a lethal attention to detail. And the ferocity on Joel’s face only eggs you on.

When you think of humbling Joel, a sinister smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. He’s the one that unleashed the horny, risk-taking monster within you and then disappeared. Fuck moping about him. You’re getting yours, you decide.

You shoot Joel a wink. Pouring gasoline on the fire, hoping it pisses him off.

You lean into the salaciously tempting energy radiating off of Dave. Reaching to hold his jaw as your lips lock and you let him control your mouth. Kissing him riles you up more. You palm at his erection over his jeans, delighting in the noises that roil deep in his chest. You hold back whimpers as the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you finds the perfect spot.

He pulls back from your kiss and looks down to watch your hand groping at him. You like watching him watch you.

“You gonna take it out?” Oh. Fuck, you want to. It feels like more of a risk than you’ve taken so far.

“Here?” you ask him softly.

A wrinkle appears between your brows. Dave watches your swollen lips again just as your pink tongue darts out to wet them. He raises a brow at you, eyes dropping to where his arm disappears under your dress.

“Oh, are you feeling bashful now?” he goads. His fingers curl against that sensitive spot inside of you as his palm presses firmly into your swollen clit. He makes it hard for you to answer. You try to pout at him, but the reflexive rise in your brows at the pleasure betrays you. He chuckles again. “No? Just distracted, hm?”

“Fuck,” is all you can mouth. It is distracting. Not the fingers inside you, well, not completely, but the urge. The craving to leverage your lewd new lover’s lack of regard for appropriate behavior into emotional revenge. The thought of Joel growing mad with jealousy as he watches you come overtakes your critical thinking.

Eat your heart out, Joel Miller! You dare him across the room, letting your jaw fall slack and your brows knit in obvious pleasure.

“Are you going to come for me?” Dave asks, “Here in this booth? Where anyone could see?” he tuts like he’s disappointed, and it works. The danger of it all does something to heighten your senses. It’s blinding. The bass from the music blaring from the dance floor rattling in your ribs, Dave’s designer cologne filling your nose, the sheen of sweat collecting on your chest, and the daggers in Joel’s eyes when you glance to confirm he’s still watching. All the sensations clash and shove you towards your release.

“Yes,” you hiss quietly, “yes.” Your eyes slam shut as you try to remain composed while riding his fingers under the table. You flicker in and out of reality as your climax rolls through you. You’re drunk on the reversal of power when your eyes peel open, and you see the hardened expression on Joel’s face glowering at you. You wonder if his dick is just as hard in his pants, and the thought has you contracting again around Dave’s fingers.

“That’s a good girl.” Dave’s voice is somehow even deeper. It sends another ripple of pleasure to swirl low in your abdomen. You’d like to hear that again.

With a touch more clarity after the violent edge of your arousal is dulled, your hand works at his belt, desperate to feel the heat of his cock in your palm. He assists, lifting his hips when you unbuckle his belt and pop the button on his pants so you can slide your hand beneath his underwear. His tension and urgency further stoke your power trip, and you feel overcome with the need to know how badly he wants you. When you wrap your fingers around him, hear the groan he makes, and feel the mindless buck of his hips, you have a more than good enough answer. He’s yours.

Dave watches the way your eyes glaze over when your thumb smears the precome dripping from his head down his length. His hand stills distractedly between your legs, and his chin drops as he watches where your hand disappears under his dark boxer briefs. You’re constricted by the elastic waistband, but your grip is tight. Almost as tight as when he fucks his own fist. He’s mesmerized by the way you jerk his cock just right.

You feel yourself salivating with the need to taste him. You’re getting frustrated with the limited space and want to see him in your hand. You sigh, wishing you could, until you realize you can, and grin.

You pull your hand back out of his pants, and he snaps out of his stupor. Before he can comment, you cut him off.

“Keep your pants on and take me to the bathroom so I can suck your cock right.”

Your voice comes out lower than you thought it would. His eyes flare before he matches your devious look and obeys, spewing filthy thoughts you can’t make out under his breath as he does. He’s ushering you down the hall in seconds, and then you’re locking the door and dropping to your knees. Dave doesn’t wait a second longer, wrenching his belt open and dropping his jeans just enough for his cock to spring free.

You don’t tease or start slow. He admires how you waste no time like you’re desperate to taste him. And you are. Only pausing for a moment to admire the way he looks, stiff and leaking for you, before you eagerly wrap your lips around him. You slide your tongue everywhere and bob up and down with vigor. Salty and vaguely sweet, precome teases your palette. You want more. The best you can do to express that is swallow around him and suck until he’s moaning and cursing above you.

You let your saliva pool and spill from your lips so you can slide your hand down the rest of his length while you revel at the weight of him on your tongue. You find the moves that have his fists clenching and thighs straining and repeat them. You hum around him as pride blooms in your chest over how his composure cracks.

You wonder if Joel has smashed through the bar with his fists yet. At least he didn’t break down the bathroom door before you could get on your knees. Would he strangle Dave first if he saw the two of you? Or would he drag you home and gag you on his angry cock instead? You moan obscenely as your imagination runs wild. You look up at Dave. He watches you with fierce eyes. You wouldn’t mind if they shared you, you consider, but that would take a miracle.

You continue messily and enthusiastically until your knees ache, and you decide he has to come for you. You try to beg for it while he’s still in your mouth before you have the brains to pull off of him and tell him what you want. He’s endeared by your unrefined hedonism.

He grips your jaw in his palm when you get the words out.

“You want to swallow my come?” he asks.

“Yes,” you plead impatiently on your knees with a hoarse voice. You’re a pornographic sight on the tile floor with your wet lashes, swollen lips, and saliva glistening on your chin. You open your mouth for him and hold out your tongue.

“Oh,” he strokes his thumb along your cheek, smiling down at you, “that’s a good girl.”

Your eyes close at that, feeling the praise warm your skin before he slides back into your wet mouth.

Guiding you faster and a little rougher, Dave doesn’t take long to come. Spilling onto your tongue as you groan around him until he stops pulsing in your mouth. You swallow, glowing for him with glassy eyes. He helps you to stand before tucking his softening cock back into his jeans and fastening his belt. You’re adjusting your dress and reaching for your bag on the counter.

“What do you need?” He asks a little softer than you expected, causing you to pause.

“Take me home,” you smile at him dopily before pausing and wincing at yourself in the mirror. You look like a freshly face-fucked mess.

“Uh, actually, give me a few minutes to freshen up first, and I’ll meet you out front?”

He nods, “I’ll pull the car up.”

“I’d like that.” You reply and lock the door behind him after he slips out.

Once you feel more presentable, you pull your phone from your bag and tap the screen to check the time before opening the door.

Seeing Joel’s name makes your stomach flip. You open the text.

Joel: Miss me?

It snaps something in you. Something that enrages you. He has to be certifiably insane, you think. It came through a little while ago, but you aren’t sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom. You begin to spiral, debating if you should march to the bar and throw a drink in his face or pretend like he doesn’t even exist. You feel your face burning hot, and the bathroom is suddenly suffocating. You need some air before you get into the car with Dave. Just long enough to breathe normally and look less like you want to break something.

Leaving the bathroom you find an employee exit further down the hall. A faded sign on the door warns that an alarm will sound, but the rock wedged in the door jam holding it open a crack begs to differ, and you slip into the dark.

A lanky, pale kid in a black apron sits atop a picnic table in the alley.

“Oh, sorry,” you feel a little guilty interrupting his break, “just wanted some air.”

“All good,” he responds before sliding off the makeshift seating. “Last call for the kitchen anyway. Have my seat,” he waves at the table like he’s offering a throne. You accept. Exceedingly grateful to have the air and the privacy to regulate. Just some slow, deep breaths. Then, you can walk out the front door and let Dave take you home.

The door swings open again, and you tense, ready to hop off the table and find another space.

“Sorry,” you start your apology, but it’s cut off.

“You should be,” Joel accuses harshly. He’s in your space with two of his long strides. Rushing at you like you’re caught in a snare trap, and he’s starving. You briefly look the part with your eyes wide in the moonlight, shocked by his sudden appearance, until your barely dampened rage rips from your throat.

“Joel, what the fuck?” you spit out in disbelief, but he interrupts you–

“I thought I already told you what happens if you’re gonna be a filthy tease?” his voice lowers as he ignores your question and paces in front of you with a dark, wicked stare.

“What are you doing here?” you press, ignoring his threat.

“What are you doing here?” he demands. Like he has some certificate of entitlement to your whereabouts. He towers over you. Your eyes narrow to slits. If you could shoot lasers out of them, you’d do it now.

You laugh. Loudly. You’re still laughing when he grabs you and pivots your frame so your legs dangle off of the end of the table towards him. Closer. He gets even closer, standing between your knees. You tilt your face to look up at him.

“You on a date?” it’s a growl carved from stone. You choose to remain ignorant to the shiver it sends through you that has nothing to do with the temperature. How dare he charge up on you like a territorial werewolf in the night? And how dare he look so fucking good with that snarly expression? No. You laugh again. Wild-eyed. Words start coming up before you even hear yourself.

“What is wrong with you, Joel? Why were you watching me? You looking for a show?” you jab. Gnashing at him with your words. He snorts dismissively at you, and a barbaric smile creeps onto his face. Like he’s in on some joke you don’t know about. He irks you so bad your skin crawls.

“S’that what you call it?” he asks, “A show?” Continuing to ignore your other questions. He is so close to you that it burns your skin.

“No, Joel. You were right the first time. I am on a date. A real date. You know what that is, right? Like, he asked me out, picked me up on time, bought me a drink,” you’re tallying on your fingers, “answered my–”

“And then what, you fuck him in the bathroom and hide out here? Alone in the alley?”

It clicks. He knows exactly why you’re flustered. The asshole must’ve sent his text for his own slimy experiment. Trying to rattle you. What fucking game is he playing? Is he trying to win you? Like you’re Dave’s possession to lose?

You scoff at his interjection, “No, Joel, I’m not alone. You followed me out here to make sure of it, right?”

“Right,” he rumbles. His dark eyes glint even in the shadows of the alley. He leans lower and closer to you until you tip back, palms on the table behind you, then elbows. Exposing your cleavage to the moonlight. He pauses, eyes raking down your face, neck, and chest. How does he make you feel raw and vulnerable even when fully dressed?

“You haven’t answered me,” you huff. Irritated and arched beneath him.

“I asked you first,” he argues. A childish rebuttal for a grown man. You’re pretty sure you’ve asked why he’s here a hundred times, but of course, that doesn’t matter. He’s insufferable with his attitude and inability to communicate. Everything about you is taut, and you feel frayed.

Joel dips his head and his lips brush your ear, tickling you, before he rasps, “I asked if you miss me, baby, and you haven’t answered.”

A tremor runs through your body.

It’s criminal. Your mind converts his voice directly into a hot coil of arousal. The throbbing between your legs causes you to wriggle beneath him.

“I need to know,” he croons, begging you to give in.

His arm slides under your back, lowering you onto the table. Your restraint collapses terribly quickly for him. His voice. His touch. He knows all of your buttons.

Laid on your back, your legs instinctively wrap around him as he bends to meet you.

Soft puffs of air shakily flow between your lips as you struggle to concentrate. On what? You aren’t sure. Not good. You squeeze your eyes shut like maybe he’ll disappear.

“I mean it, baby,” he continues purring with a sharp edge, “you tell me when you miss me.”

You know it wouldn’t matter even if you did. If you texted him. If you called. It wouldn’t matter. It would probably make you feel worse. But when he says it, you feel your heart doing flips anyway.

He slides his hands over your body, and you feel the last of your logic escaping as you tug him towards you. You’re grinding against him stupidly without a single thought. Just having him this close to you had you feeling desperate and needy. You could come again right now just by dry-humping like horny teenagers.

The craving for him is so intense that you’ll surely die if he doesn’t keep moving. You lose any shred of composure that you were still clinging to and let out a needy whine for him. And when your fingers twist and tug at his shirt, it’s like a green light to Joel.

He closes any and all gaps between you. His hand skates roughly under your dress, bunching up the fabric. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your neck and grazes his teeth enticingly along your jaw.

Groping, grinding, grunting. All his movements dance a line between deliberate and frantic.

You have tunnel vision, lost from time and space. When his low moan vibrates through you, your hand shoots to his belt. He rasps into your ear again, “That’s it, baby, I’m right here if you miss me, don’t need some jerkoff tryin’ to waste your time.” Your fingers fumble. What– “Oh, shit!” a voice yells. You freeze. “Don’t mind me!” The drunk guy slurs as he stumbles out the backdoor and sways down the alley towards the street.

Your situation hits you like a bucket of cold water. Joel seems unfazed, still curled over you. You push at him and sit up.

“What did you just say, Joel?”

“Hmm?” he murmurs at you.

“Joel, I’m serious. What the fuck?”

He’s not listening. His hands are still searching your body. The scent of his faded deodorant is so familiar in your nose. The words are coming up again. Before he casts his trance on you.

“No. I said I’m serious,” you repeat, “I’m not playing your games. Done with your weird shit.” Your body feels rigid, and your mind is clearing through the fog of lust. “Just because I have no self-esteem and I fuck you anytime you show up on my doorstep doesn’t mean you have any claim to me.”

He blinks at you, finally registering your tone, expression shifting. “I actually tried, you know? I wanted to get to know you. You just bail. I keep suffering for it. Like an idiot. I keep thinking it would show I care.”

“Baby–”

“And now what? You see me on a date and decide it would be fun to ruin it? Ruin a chance at something better than waiting around wondering if you’ll show up looking to score?” You’re on your feet now. Livid. Ablaze in the dark. “No, you don’t even care enough to think about that,” you realize aloud.

His features harden. Your head shakes slowly, exasperated with your burgeoning understanding. All you can hear is the white noise buzzing in your skull. Your next words are quieter and lower, forcing him to pay close attention.

“You just wanted to prove something, right? Thought you’d fuck me on this table and run like you always do? For what, to prove you could?”

His nostrils flare, and you don’t miss how he grits his teeth.

You don’t falter; he doesn’t scare you. You press on with your accusations prickly on your tongue. You back him against the wall next to the door as you continue.

“You don’t like hearing it?” you cock your head at him, amused with his discomfort. “Were you going to leave me here in the alley full of your come like I’m some pathetic whore for you? Would you walk me back to my date after that? Was that your plan?”

Joel snaps, manhandling you in a split second. Pinned against the brick wall, you can hear your heart pounding. It’s a paper-thin line between anger and lust, and you can’t tell which has your blood pumping. You can’t tell if he’s about to yell at you or fuck you. You hate that you can’t tell which you’d prefer.

His eyes are locked onto yours. Not revealing anything. You shift, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He doesn’t keep you waiting. Joel shoves his hand into your panties, fingers slipping immediately into the fresh pool of arousal between your thighs. A shaky exhale comes out of you, but he doesn’t seem to need to blink or breathe anymore.

He brings his glossy fingers to your mouth. Silent. He taps at your lip until you open and suck, tasting yourself. His mask slips a little. One brow twitches as he studies the scene of your lips wrapped around both of his fingers. But his eyes flick to yours when he pulls them out of your mouth and drags them down your bottom lip, smearing spit against your chin.

“Tell me,” he says in a whisper that scrapes across your skin, “does it taste like you miss me?”

You swallow tightly. A lump forms in your throat now, about as large as a civilization-ending asteroid.

You can hear your phone buzzing. Forgotten on the table. Panic streaks over your eyes as you wonder how long you’ve been out here. You duck under his arm, dashing for your phone. You don’t look at him. You can’t. As you sprint down the hallway, you swing the door open, kicking the rock in the door jam, hopefully locking Joel outside. Cursing at yourself for almost letting Joel fuck you in the alley across from a dumpster.

Dave sits in his car, idling along the curb near the front of the club. You’re surprised he didn’t leave. You hope it hasn’t been long. You don’t dare check your phone. Maybe it was only a few minutes, or it could have been an hour. You don’t think time functions normally when you’re around Joel.

Dave is frighteningly observant, slinking out of his car to open the door for you before you get close enough to reach for the handle.

“I was just starting to wonder if you’d snuck out the back door,” he chides.

You feel the blood rushing to the surface of your skin. Hot with embarrassment over your behavior and his on-the-nose word choice.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I did step out for some air. Wanted to cool down.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he assures you, tilting your chin towards his face with his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes dart around his face, wondering what he sees on yours. “Was it too much, dirty girl?” he coos.

“What, this?” you lilt mockingly as you palm over his bulge, “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” he snorts softly. “Get in the car.” He adds as he opens the door for you.

He pauses before pulling away from the curb once seated in the driver’s side.

“Is your boyfriend going to be following us home?”

“My what?” you feel the blood drain from your face.

“The one from the bar,” he continues, measured and eerily calm, “the one who followed us here?” Your head starts spinning at that, but Dave carries on, unbothered. “I assumed he likes to watch. You should’ve told me. It would’ve been easier than wondering if he’s a deranged stalker or–”

“No.” You cut him off and struggle to continue for multiple reasons. “It’s not like that. I thought it was a coincidence,” you feel a confusing mix of emotions.

“Followed us?” you’re curious.

“When I picked you up. In the truck?”

“Oh god. No. He’s,” you pause, searching for the right words.

“An ex?”

“Not even that. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe he’d follow me.”

“So he is dangerous?”

“No.” Only to my self-respect.

“You want me to take care of him?”

“No.” You reply before putting any thought behind what that means. “No. He’s just an asshole with a staring problem.”

You withdraw. You hadn’t thought about why Joel was here. How ridiculous it sounds to imagine Joel voluntarily sitting at the bar in a club like this alone. You feel the blood rushing to your ears. Stupid little butterflies flap their wings in your stomach before they’re reduced to ashes, and you begin to see red again tonight. How is Joel ruining your night without saying a word this time?

“Take me home,” you say firmly.

He does. Dave walks you to your door. You invite him in, but he’s observant, noticing the clouds in your expression. He declines your invite but assures you he would be very interested in seeing you again. He gives you a chaste kiss that makes you laugh, considering how bold you both have been tonight. It lightens your mood.

He lingers for a moment before he pulls out his wallet.

“It was on the house this time,” you snark. Curious about what he’s doing.

He hands you a sleek business card. A business card? Is this guy Patrick Bateman?

Your face wrinkles in confusion.

“I already have your number,” you flip the card over in case you’re missing something. It doesn’t say anything, just has a phone number.

“I meant what I said, that I’d be interested in seeing you again for pleasure,” he smirks, “but if you change your mind, at least keep this.”

You don’t understand why you’d need his work phone number but try to play it cool and nod.

“If your stalker becomes a problem, you call me.”

You’re still confused about what that means when he drives away. As you shut your door, you realize you have no idea what he does.

You’re still in the middle of composing a text to Katie about how her green flag date included a bathroom blowjob and a business card when you hear a knock at your door. You swing it open, assuming foolishly that it would be Dave.

Before you can blink, Joel kicks the door shut and backs you down the hallway. He looks like a man possessed as he hurtles towards you. It sends a chill down your spine that you think would trigger your fight or flight response, but yours seems to be reprogrammed to fight or fuck. Staggering backward, you yelp when the backs of your knees hit your mattress.

“Can I fucking help you?” you snap at him as you realign with reality. “Jesus Christ, Joel, were you waiting outside the window or something?”

You glare into his eyes, but a toxic part of you only wants to focus on his lips. And how close they are to yours. You also can’t deny the even more debauched part of you that flutters at the possessive look in Joel’s eyes.

He laughs darkly, “Nah baby, I knew you’d send him on his way.”

You roll your eyes at that. Cocky bastard.

And he is. He emits a frenzied energy as he takes you in. Looking you up and down like a prize. Like he’s considering where to write his name on your skin.

You roll your shoulders. Trying to shake off the idea that you’d like to be possessed by him, but it thrums persistently inside of you.

“You didn’t know shit, Miller,” you accuse sardonically.

Joel reaches for you. You think he’s going to tell you off. But his hands glide over the tops of your shoulders and up the column of your neck until he’s cupping your jaw in both hands. It feels jarring and vulnerable to be held by him this way. To feel like he just wants to look at you and to know you can’t look away. You wonder what’s going on behind his dark eyes. What he sees when he looks at you What he thinks.

The longer he looks at you, the more the tension builds (of course, because it’s Joel). You start to itch, fingers twitching with the need to grab him and pull his full weight on top of you. Despite your building desire, he’s still quietly reading your face. Joel Miller, the enigma, you muse.

Before you can flip him any shit, his mouth is on yours, and his hands drop to your hips to hold you firmly against his body. You want him to keep holding you there, but closer. You need him even closer.

He groans into your mouth, and you kiss him back hungrily. Your bodies slot together in a twisted fate. You couldn’t care less about the date you just had at this moment. You can hear Joel’s words from previous encounters that have burrowed into your consciousness, and you’re starving for more.

A selfish and greedy satisfaction warms in your chest at him being in your bedroom. He pulls your lower lip between his teeth before breaking away to tease bites along your neck and shoulder. You shiver. Your fingers dig into his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until your knees buckle, and fall into the bed with him on top of you. He doesn’t stop trying to taste you everywhere, trying to feel every part of you. You breathe out single-syllable praise as your thoughts become hazy.

You still feel needy. You writhe and strain as you attempt to work his shirt up his broad frame. You’re insistent on feeling the blistering heat of his skin against yours. He leans back up, out of your grip, causing you to sigh in exasperation. Of course, it couldn’t be this easy. What does he have to say now?

“You want me to leave?”

“What? Why?” you growl out. He is not about to body slam you into a bed and then walk away.

“Thought you were done with my ‘weird shit’ or whatever you called it,” he taunts.

“I am,” you huff.

“Tell me to stop.” You can’t.

“Take your clothes off,” you answer instead.

He does. Then, he’s pulling your clothes off and climbing over you. You aren’t sure you’ve ever both been fully naked like this. Definitely not while in a bed, at least. It’s more intimate than your relationship calls for. It makes time feel syrupy, but your other senses feel sharply tuned. Joel’s breath fans hot over your ear as he tucks his face into the corner of your neck and shoulder.

“So,” he sucks at your delicate skin before continuing in his smoky tone, “your date couldn’t satisfy you?”

“Shut up,” you snarl at him, uninterested in playing games. You’re too lost in the intensity of his physical presence. You need him inside of you, and you tug at his body, trying to pull him closer. It’s useless. His strong arms are braced like two stone pillars on either side of you.

He’s such a pest. His mouth quirks, and he looks all too pleased with himself. You roll your eyes again. You know what he’s getting at. What he wants to hear you say. But, you’re reluctant to stroke his ego. He’s going to be unbearable if. The thorn of it that hurts the most, though, is that it’s not a lie. It’s an admission. A confirmation.

He makes you feel so good in ways nobody else ever could, but the pain of knowing he’ll never be yours eats at you. It feels like exposing your beating heart in your chest to confess you want him so badly. You ache to hear him tell you he only wants you again. Even if it’s not real, you lie to yourself, you just need to hear it.

While you wrestle with finding the words, he begins to torment you. The heat and arousal weigh heavily between your naked bodies. He lowers closer and closer to where you need him most but refuses to alleviate your painful want. Wickedly, he exploits your neediness. Teasing at your skin with his tongue, teeth, and breath.

“Tell me, baby. Just let me hear it,” he says. But you can’t.

When he blows air over your strained nipples, and you arch under him seeking contact, he darts down to kiss at your stomach and inner thighs instead. When he gets closer and closer to the apex of your thighs, grazing his nose over your mound, you could snap.

You reach to dig your fingers into his hair and direct his mouth to your throbbing clit, but he’s stronger than you. Devilish man. He crawls back up to hover over your face. You know he’s enjoying it. Wondering how quickly you’ll break. It makes you want to kick and scream.

“Tell me it’s not true then,” it’s a challenge directed at you, but it feels like he’s also challenging himself.

He drags the head of his cock over the slick lips of your cunt without precision or direction. You are so convinced he’s torturing you, but he looks like he’s in pain from restraining himself as well. It makes you crazy. You try to reach down to line him up with your entrance yourself, but he’s faster. He grabs your hand and pins it above your head.

“Fine,” you grit out. Frustrated. You aim to smother your fear with sarcasm and puff your chest, hoping it works.

“You’re right, Joel. It’s true.” He doesn’t move, waiting to hear more.

“I missed your filthy mouth and your big fat cock.” You mock with an exaggerated whine. You keep going before you lose courage. “And my date couldn’t satisfy me.” You pause, steeling yourself. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Because even when I had his cock down my throat,” you force yourself to look in his eyes, “all I could think about was you.”

You tried to keep the snarky, biting tone in that last part, but your voice betrayed you when you met his eyes. It came out sounding as vulnerable as it felt to say. His expression flickers. You feel too honest. You should take it back. You want to curl up. He grins above you.

“I know, baby,” he coos. You hold your breath. Of course he’s going to be a condescending ass about it, you start to bemoan internally–but when he finally sinks into you, it shuts off your inner monologue and slows down time. “All I can fuckin’ think about,” he says as he fills you as deeply as possible, letting a satisfied sigh fall from his lips.

All I can fuckin’ think about.

The words rattle around in your mind. Joel begins to rock into you, deliberately grinding his pelvis against you. All he can think about is you, too? Or fucking you? Or how he’s ruined you for other men?

All I can fuckin’ think about.

It echoes in your head as he picks up his pace, splitting you open with heavy, mind-altering thrusts. Suffocatingly intimate. Face to face. Skin to skin. Soul to soul. His voice isn’t just echoing in your mind; he’s also running his mouth about something. Muttering about how he knew you’d be waiting for him, how he’s going to fuck you until you forget your date's name, how nobody else can satisfy your needy cunt.

Oh.

He’s not wrong. You want to hear more.

“Yes,” You can stoke this fire. You don’t mind finding out what happens if you rile him up while he’s inside you. “Only you,” you pant, “nobody else fucks me like you do.”

He makes a throaty noise in agreement and shifts. Large hands wrap around the back of your knees and press them towards your chest, tilting your hips up. You choke and sputter as he slams into you with force. The new angle creates a blissful intensity.

“That’s right,” he says, “nobody else.”

He pounds into you like he could fuck you through the mattress, maybe even through the floor. The lewd sound of his thighs slapping against your ass fill the room. You tuck your chin to your chest to watch the way each thrust makes your breasts bounce. You notice that he’s mesmerized by the same sight, and you take the opportunity to shift your gaze, studying the look on his face.

It’s more sensual than anything you’ve done together before. You can see the sweat beading on his chest from exertion. You’re nearly folded in half and unable to stop your soft cries and moans. It’s raw, sticky, and vulnerable. You feel warmed at the thought but also fragile. Breakable. Hypersensitive emotionally and physically. It’s all too bright and hot.

You let his voice push you over the edge, and your climax rips fiercely through your body. You faintly hear him groan as your tight walls contract around him, but his voice is drowned out by the pleasure. Your legs tremble, still balanced over his shoulders.

Your core muscles spasm as he keeps sawing into you until your hips are jerking at the sensitivity of your come down. He slows, breathing heavily over you. You can see the animalistic edge in his eyes. You have to push it. Play it out.

“Make me yours,” you incite.

You definitely just meant to imply, ‘fuck me hard and come inside me, please,’ but you worry he’s interpreted it differently when he drops your legs. Wrong. He turns you over, laying you flat on your stomach, pulling your arms behind your back, and pinning you to the bed. He straddles your closed legs. Your shoulders strain a little as he leans into you. His heavy body compresses your prone form, and his cock weighs heavy against the curve of your ass; it feels right. A perverted comfort blanket, stealing your breath.

“Repeat it,” he tells the back of your neck.

“Make me yours.” You turn your head to the side. You can’t see his face, but you can hear the string of curses he chants when he lines up and wedges himself into you. The added constriction of your position unravels you both.

“Mine,” he grunts. You muffle your own noises into the sheets, along for the ride. He doesn’t last much longer before you feel him still overtop of you. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of the pulsing and throbbing of his cock inside you as he fills you up. Breathing deep, your back rises against his chest before he slides off of you.

You roll onto your side. Facing each other, you still at the sight of him. Another breath shared between you, chests expanding towards each other. For the briefest moment, you think he might stay. You can see the soft edge of relaxation in his features. Your hand drifts toward him, an instinct based on nothing rational, just wanting to feel him. You feel the stupid, dreamy expression settling on your face. Before you can speak or figure out what you were reaching for, he’s snapped out of the bubble of tranquility. His walls are up.

He’s dressed and leaving, walking towards the door as you can only sigh into your dirty sheets.

He doesn’t even leave with a snide last word. Just the door closing.

if you'd like to be on a taglist please let me know !

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #fuckboy joel #dave york #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou smut #pedro pascal smut

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felassan · 28 days

Text

Dragon Age: "In #DragonAge: Vows and Vengeance, you'll get to meet all our companions before they joined the Veilguard - including a gentleman necromancer 💀 Subscribe and listen wherever you get your podcasts. Premieres August 29: [link]" [source]

This tweet mentions that the moments of the companions' lives depicted in the podcast are from times prior to them joining the Veilguard and therefore the events of the game.

Text in the notebook reads:

"Something's gone wrong. The dead stir more easily than they should."

Maybe we are looking at Emmrich's notebook here? ^^ it sounds like something isn't right in the Grand Necropolis and with the Veil/the dead in general. (I wonder if this is part of the reason why in the release date reveal trailer, there are giant undead skeletons causing a stir). In Nevarra/the Mortalitasi, they believe that when someone dies a spirit is pushed out of the Fade into the mortal world. In exchange, they invite those spirits to inhabit the empty bodies left behind. This is common orthodoxy for the Nevarran populace. when a spirit leaves the Fade, it crosses the Veil. when the Veil is thin (or weak or damaged..), demons and spirits can escape more easily into the waking world. once they do, they sometimes possess corpses. since we need to guard the Veil in this game and there's a Veil-tearing Lyrium dagger around (plus who knows what else Ghil and Elgar'nan and whatever else are doing to it..), it makes sense that if the Veil is damaged/at risk, more dead would stir and more easily than they should do. (in TN, Lord Penrick Karn's funeral procession was interrupted by his corpse's premature possession). you can see why a Mourn Watcher like Emmrich would be motivated to join a group dedicated to guarding the Veil.

The anatomical drawings here track, Nevarra has unrivalled knowledge of anatomy. <- DA:TV spoilers at link.

The notebook also reminds me of Grim Anatomy.

These numbers look to appear twice on the pages:

"7197 | 3.85715 7198 | 3.85721 7199 | 3.85727 | 6 7200 | 3.85733 | 6"

What do they mean? could it be a calculation, or a code?

And can anyone make out what the flowing script on the left hand page says? ^^ I wonder what language it's in? Whether it corresponds to a spell? it also reminds me of this exchange from the 'Meet The Companions' panel at SDCC, as it relates to Emmrich:

"Lucy: And I hear as well that Emmrich gets, I mean, you’re all gonna get some fantastic lines, but I hear that Emmrich has some quite spectacular ones. You, Nick, you and Ashley, I would love to hear about the process of, was it difficult to get like some of those tongue-twisters, and? Ashley: Yeah, Sylvia the lead writer basically was like, ‘Ash, you’re gonna need a dictionary for all of the sessions with Emmrich’, it’s like, 'Okay!’. And we get there, you just nailed them all, like 'shduhfejdkjjdhdjdhfjehfjkhehe into the Fade’. Nick: Well, I don’t know if I nailed them all, that’s very kind of you. But, there was some serious tongue-twisters there, and, but it’s great, it’s great to be in the booth, and to be given a challenge like that, and. Yeah, it’s fantastic, I mean that’s what I love to do, so it was great to be just gifted that."

[source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #<- this is my spoiler tag!!#dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #dragon age: vows & vengeance #video games #long post #longpost #dragon age: tevinter nights

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flamingtouya · 7 months

Text

𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐩 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞) —

pairing: dabi + f!reader

word count: 4381

cw: getting to know each other (against your better intuition), flirting, bad flirting,some explicit language but nothing too bad, no quirk AU, dabi commits a crime or two

summary: In which Dabi meant to text Toga instead of a random stranger. But these things happen, and you were never one to shy away from troublesome men. This whole thing is told entirely through text messages.

a/n: check out my AO3 for different formatting! :)

Mar 02 10:07 PM

Unknown: Grab bleach while you’re out Unknown: And paper towels

You: who is this??

Unknown: So funny

You: u got the wrong number my guy

Unknown: Shit Unknown: You don’t happen to have some bleach at your disposal rn?

You: try the convenience store You: where’s the body at, anyways

Unknown: Ohara street by the fitness park, you should come check it out

You: sounds enticing You: i’ve always wanted to be on a true crime podcast

You: sort of expected myself to be the alive one though

Unknown: I was taught that women tend to be smart about stranger danger and stuff Unknown: You're out to prove me wrong

You: how’d you know i’m a woman? 🤨

Unknown: U sound cute Unknown: And men don’t listen to true crime

You: that’s so sexist You: and correct You: you'd do numbers on reddit

Mar 03 00:16 AM

You: hey don’t leave now

Mar 03 00:34 AM

Unknown: Had a body to take care of

You: you didn’t wait for me? :(

Unknown: … Unknown: Are u fr

You: ofc not You: i don’t hang out with edgelords

Unknown: Whatever u r probably boring anyways

You: entertaining enough for u to keep texting me

Unknown: We all have our moments of weakness

Mar 03 01:09 AM

Unknown: So wyd

You: you don’t have anybody else to bother?

Unknown: I do Unknown: I want to bother you tho

You: damn, what’d i do to deserve this

Unknown: Is that a complaint

You: i have uni tomorrow and ur buzzing keeps waking me up

Unknown: Mute your phone, stupid

You: can’t mute unknown numbers

Unknown: Save this one then Unknown: Or block me idc

You: what name should i put it under

Unknown: Dabi

You: lmao i knew you were an edgelord

Dabi: Stfu

You: good night to you too

Mar 03 07:58 AM

You: fuck

Mar 03 3:56 PM

Dabi: Did you miss me that bad

Mar 03 4:32 PM

You: i overslept and am blaming you entirely

Mar 03 5:19 PM

Dabi: Sucks to be a useful member to society

You: why what do you do

Dabi: I'm actually a bit of a part-time freelancer, you regular uni folk just wouldn't get it

You: freelancing around ohara at 1 in the morning sounds like the truly fulfilling purpose we all long for You: did you just get up

Dabi: Hey now Dabi: Yes Dabi: I’m still in bed technically, looking at the ceiling fan is so interesting when I don't want to move a muscle

You: you are everything I am jealous of

Dabi: I promise you it’s not that good

You: first time a guy’s been honest right away. i applaud u

Dabi: Omg no way

Mar 03 5:40 PM

You: no way what

Dabi: No way you said something witty

Dabi: Maybe you’re fun after all

You: i’ll have u know that deep down, i’m just a fragile being trying to make it thru this bitch of a world, running on fumes and caffeine all while chasing a childhood dream that i'll never be able to reach anyways because of my parents' expectations of me crushing my soul

Dabi: Damn, being vulnerable already

You: your turn

Dabi: I’m not sad. My life is great and my parents never expected anything of me

Dabi: That was a lie

You: so you’re a liar

Dabi: I suppose I might be

You: that counts as being vulnerable. i’m so proud of us. <3

Mar 03 9:12 PM

You: you probably have daddy issues

Mar 03 11:34 PM

Dabi: Mind your business

You: so i’m right

Dabi: Nosy sounds more like it

You: that’s a yes then

Dabi: When I tell you he SUCKS so bad

You: LMAO You: i’m guessing you don’t particularly like your family then

Dabi: It's not the type of stuff I'd tell anybody, especially not to some nosy individual whose number is one or two digits off

You: alright i’ll stop digging You: wait how old are you You: am i talking to some 50 y/o dude You: please no

Mar 04 00:02 AM

Dabi: Chill I’m 48

Mar 04 00:06 AM

You: say sike right now You: if u rly are then i’m half your age

Dabi: You thought Dabi: Are you actually 24 tho

You: give or take a few days lol

Dabi: When’s your birthday

You: do you want my social and tax numbers while we’re at it

Dabi: Stfu I wanna see if I’m older

You: 🤨 You: it’s at the end of this month

Dabi: Baby

You: are u flirting with me or insulting me

Dabi: Can’t I be doing both

Mar 04 06:30 AM

You: love me a guy who can multitask You: did you ever get your bleach and paper towels

Mar 04 11:11 AM

You: it’s 11:11 make a wish

Mar 04 2:02 PM

You: my wish is that you’d commit to a humane sleeping schedule

Mar 04 2:59 PM

Dabi: Anybody hear sum

You: i heard you’re a lazy bitch You: who doesn’t even do his own grocery shopping

Dabi: Maybe I do. Maybe I got the bleach all on my own like a big boy

You: X

Dabi: What's that mean

You: X for doubt You: it’s a meme

Dabi: Here I thought we were about to get spicy 😔

You: ew

Dabi: I was joking Dabi: …unless

You: has anybody ever told you that your flirting is immaculate

Mar 04 7:10 PM

Dabi: What do you study

You: are you trying to find out my location

Dabi: Let it be known I’m terrible at geography and if I wanted to stalk you I'd already be on it

You: that’s a consolation You: forensic science You: i actually can’t wait for the semester to be over bc my professor is one of the most annoying individuals i have ever had the displeasure of meeting

Dabi: So you do have bleach

You: never said i didn’t

Dabi: What do I have to do to make the list of annoying individuals. What's my current score

You: we haven’t met You: and i’m not sure if i’d survive u

Dabi: You have a point, I'm super nice tho

You: bet You: are you handsome You: asking for a friend You: the handsome ones are usually more annoying

Dabi: I'll say I’m frighteningly unique-looking

You: ...well played

Mar 04 10:09 PM

Dabi: My boss is making me do errand work in the morning like I'm some kind of functioning human being with principles Dabi: The next piercing I’m getting is a lobotomy

You: thought you were “freelancing”

Dabi: Freelancing only gets you so far. You'll understand when you're my age

You: can't imagine what the back pain must be like You: do you have a tongue piercing 👀

Dabi: Perhaps I do

You: u r so mysterious You: tell me an opinion

Dabi: Mint ice cream makes my teeth feel weird

You: that’s not an opinion

Dabi: Alright, more foods should have mint in them. And coriander. I want to make things inedible for 80% of the human population

You: nvm keep your opinions to yourself

Mar 05 02:26 AM

Dabi: I've gotta burn this number. Txt u in a few

Mar 05 05:16 AM

You: what are you, some kind of druglord This message could not be delivered.

You: I knew it This message could not be delivered.

Mar 0512:03 PM

You: ayo are you still there This message could not be delivered.

You: this is only funny if you come clean right now This message could not be delivered.

Mar 05 4:16 PM

You: "text you in a few" minutes? hours? days? This message could not be delivered.

You: just know that if it takes to long i'll forget about u This message could not be delivered.

You: won't even miss u This message could not be delivered.

Mar 06 09:00 AM

You: hello is this thing on This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 3:15 PM

You: my social security number is 6007 0023 6799 0324 This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 8:46 PM

You: eggs, vinegar, panko, sprite, sliced ham, parmesan, deodorant sencha if they have the good one ground pepper, lemon juice This message could not be delivered.

Mar 08 04:44 AM

Unknown: Am I still the man of ur dreams

You: I'm killing you You: violently

Unknown: I was hoping softly Unknown: With your song

You: are these messages being monitored You: am i a suspect

Unknown: If they were, could I write that I'm a ruthless baby killer anti-government fuck the police pro abortion the prime minister is an idiot bomb. bomb at the airport, terrorism, detonate Unknown: I guess now they are

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: just when i thought i'd have to find another witty asshole with a tongue piercing

Dabi: Aw you missed me Dabi: Does my tongue piercing make me hot be honest

You: what are my chances of getting an explanation for the past few days You: are u a murderer fr, that would be so cool You: i totally didn't use our abandoned chat as a grocery list btw

Dabi: The only thing I slay is pussy 😎

You: somehow i have doubts about that statement You: animal abuse is no joke

Dabi: I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100, if you guess it correctly I'll tell u everything

You: 69

Mar 08 08:21 AM

Dabi: It was 72 Dabi: Because you were so close I'll give u one free question. But I want another one in return

You: you're a dirty little gremlin who plays dirty little games You:: do i get to ask a follow-up question

Dabi: No

You: in that case You: which of the following activities did you partake in? 1.) vandalism 2.) drug dealing 3.) drug trafficking 4.) violent crimes 5.) violent crimes that resulted in the death of one or more individuals 6.) assisting someone in a violent crime 7.) assisting someone in a non-violent crime 8.) theft 9.) robbery 10.) hate crimes against a minority 11.) politically motivated acts of defiance 12.) consumption of illegal substances 13.) running and/or hiding from law enforcement 14.) domestic terrorism 15.) human trafficking 16.) money laundering 17.) having a good time

Dabi: What the fuck Dabi: What is this, a multiple choice? Dabi: 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 13 Dabi: My turn Dabi: What's your favourite food

You: fr, just like that You: that's your one question out of everything you could ask? am i really that boring

Dabi: I ask what I ask

You: spicy miso ramen with minced pork You: can we go back to the part where you ran from law enforcement

Dabi: Don't we all have demons that we run from Dabi: Mine are just a bit more persistent

Mar 08 10:52 AM

You: i want another question

Dabi: If you come up with one that's not related to the past few days, go ahead

You: fine i'll take it You: have you ever been caught and gotten in legal trouble for one of your… dubious activities

Dabi: Yeah

You: …and?

Dabi: That's another question. Gonna trade?

You: fine

Dabi: When I was 16, two Officers Of The Law 🐷 caught me dumpster diving behind a 7/11 Dabi: The dumpster diving wasn't the crime but because it was on private property they charged me with trespassing

You: damn, that's a lot of truth from u in just two sentences You: i wanna know ur tragic backstory so bad

Dabi: You could try to get me all sentimental for the 6 minutes after really good sex before the post nut clarity sets in

You: uh huh, taking notes You: anyway. you get one question. think hard

Dabi: If you couldn't have minced pork on your ramen, what would your second topping choice be

You: you're impossible

Mar 08 1:27 PM

You: tori karaage or extra ni-tamago i guess

Mar 08 2:23 PM

Dabi: Doesn't the Karaage lose its crispiness if it's in the broth for too long Dabi: I wouldn't know

You: please let me recommend you a good ramen place, you seem like you'd need it

Dabi: You have no idea. Take me out

You: like romantically? or are you asking me to murder you

Dabi: I love surprises

You: i just laughed out loud in the middle of my lecture

Mar 08 7:18 PM

Dabi: Need your forensic expertise for a sec

You: …oh no

Dabi: It's a purely hypothetical scenario

You: alright lay it on me big boy

Dabi: If a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person were to climb over a 4,60 meter high fence that has electrical wiring on it Dabi: What would the most likely way for them to die be?

You: this is not forensic at all You: how strong is the electricity You: is there a way to shut it off You: where would you hold onto the fence You: can it be damaged

Dabi: Not me, a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person

You: where would THE 176 CM TALL AND 67 KG HEAVY PERSON HOLD ONTO THE FENCE

Dabi: The only points that provide decent grip surface are the hooks holding the wires in place

You: so the most likely way to die would be electrocution You: will that be all

Dabi: How would one determine whether the electricity has been properly shut off Dabi: In the theoretical scenario that you couldn't get close enough to hear

You: the 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person should tap the wiring from the bottom with the back of their hand You: that way their fingers curl downwards and not around the wire You: so the person won't DIE from ELECTROCUTION

Mar 09 00:08 AM

Dabi: Excellent Dabi: Gonna do some field research Dabi: Will report back in maybe a day

Mar 09 08:01 AM

You: i'm gonna be so mad if you die before you've had decent karaage This message could not be delivered.

Mar 11 6:10 PM

Unknown: So it turns out that the person did not have to climb the fence after all. Pliers are such useful tools Unknown: Thanks for the electricity tip tho

Mar 11 6:39 PM

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: you're so hot when you're alive

Mar 11 9:14 PM

Dabi: Do u think I'm a catch 😏

You: judging by the way law enforcement is trying to get their hands on you, i'd say you're pretty slippery

Dabi: The slipperiest Dabi: You couldn't handle me

You: i'd trap you using cheese and a paper box You: put you in a jar and turn you into spicy miso broth

Dabi: Would you hold the jar tight at night and tell me everything's going to be okay

You: of course

Dabi: I'm liking this scenario

Mar 12 01:07 AM

Dabi: Ever thought about what Mint Karaage would taste like

Mar 12 01:23 AM

You: i need u

Dabi: Tell me more

You: to shut your mouth

Dabi: Are you trying to romance me

Mar 12 07:15 AM

You: i'm actually so upset right now You: can i vent

Mar 12 07:27 AM

Dabi: Listening Dabi: Am I gonna have to get the tissues out

You: you're not empathetic enough for that

Dabi: How would you know

You: call it a woman's intuition You: i just need someone to bother about my hot girl troubles

Dabi: Let's hear it girl Dabi: Men ain't shit 💅

You: damn right they aren't You: but unrelated to that You: i ran out of my medication a few days ago and thought if i stretched the remaining 3 pills to last me 6 days i'd be able to make it till the end of the week You: now my doctor's office is closed and i can't seem to get an appointment anywhere You: and i'm super jittery and on edge and almost had a panic attack just trying to make coffee

Dabi: What type of medication

You: Ativan You: it's prescription only

Dabi: Nothing is ever "prescription only"

You: i'm not gonna try some experimential backalley drug You: just feel like dying rn

Dabi: Who said anything about backalley? You actually came to the right guy for this Dabi: What's the name of the nearest druggery

You: ...fukuju pharmacy

Dabi: So I've been talking to a Setagaya girl

You: only moved here for uni, hate to disappoint if ur expecting a wealthy maiden

Mar 12 10:02 AM

Dabi: Don't you feel like getting a snack from the vending machine Dabi: Specifically the one next to the pharmacy Dabi: A bag of skittles sounds nice, doesn't it?

You: ? ? ?

Mar 12 10:34 AM

You: did you commit a crime for me You: how did you get your hands on actual fucking Ativan this fast

Dabi: I don't kiss and tell

You: did you follow me home You: is this how i die

Dabi: You make it so hard to be nice to you Dabi: What do you think I am, a creep

You: if you were here i'd suck you off so good rn

Dabi: Whore Dabi: (Respectfully)

You: lmao ur right You: thank you for real though

Dabi: Stfu

Mar 12 1:33 PM

Dabi: Do u like cats

You: yes

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: Noodle thieving menace

You: 🥹 You: that has got to be the fattest street cat i’ve ever seen

Dabi: He’s hella fast

You: how does it feel to be the one chasing the culprit for once

Dabi: Not nearly as thrilling as being the one committing the crime

Mar 13 00:00 AM

Unknown: Congratulations! You have been selected as an eligible member for a free trial of Osaka Daily Post. Unknown: If you would like information about your benefits, reply 'BENEFIT' Unknown: If you would like to stop receiving these messages, reply 'STOP'

You: i know it's you shithead

Unknown: Your message could not be processed.

You: this is the unfunniest you've ever been ngl

Unknown: Your message could not be processed.

You: you're truly one of the most annoying individuals in my life

Unknown: Your message could not be processed.

You: STOP

Unknown: LMAO you thought

Dabi was saved as a contact.

You: i'm reconsidering if the tongue piercing is really worth it 😤

Mar 13 04:55 AM

Dabi: Any particular reason why you chose forensics

Mar 13 06:09 AM

You: i've always admired criminals but been to scared to become one You: and if i know about psychotic assholes it might help me to steer clear of them, or so i thought

Dabi: Is it working

You: evidently not

Dabi: Use me in ur thesis Dabi: I'll be your lab rat

You: nah you're more beneficial to me when you're not stuck behind bars You: what do you have me saved as in your phone

Dabi: I don't save contacts Dabi: Especially not yours Dabi: You mean nothing to me

You: aww do you know my number by heart, that's adorable You: i'm kinda genuinely impressed at how persistent you are at bothering me, it's almost like you like me or smth

Dabi: No fr though lmao if anybody finds my phone you'd be on a list

You: do u delete these chats

Dabi: Always

You: that's so romantic You: admit it you're actually a softie

Dabi: Would that make you more interested in me Dabi: Then I'm the softest

You: what do i need to do to make you the hardest

Dabi: ... Dabi: There's absolutely no correct way for me to respond to that Dabi: You've left me speechless

You: 🥵🥵

Dabi: What's your worst quality Dabi: Besides being an irresistible smartass Dabi: *irritating

You: was that a freudian slip You: you're so obsessed with me it's adorable

Dabi: Proving my point so diligently

You: you don't seem like the kind of person who would use words like 'diligently' You: i'm rather talkative at times You: to the point where it gets unbearable to listen to me

Dabi: I never would've guessed

You: what's yours? You: besides the obvious

Dabi: Still putting up with you

Mar 13 7:45 PM

Dabi: Wyd

You: i burned my rice a little You: but it's edible

Dabi: Don't you have a rice cooker? Who raised you

You: my very strict but sweet and committed grandmother who made the best teriyaki salmon in the whole world You: i'd kill another human being to eat her home cooked food one more time

Dabi: So your parents ain't shit either

You: eh, they're alright You: they're Business People overseas and aren't around a whole lot, means i get my own place though You: so i can have visitors at any desired hour 😏

Dabi: Omg sick Dabi: Me next

You: it was implied

Mar 13 11:11 PM

Dabi: Ok but do u actually wanna meet up sometime Dabi: No strings attached ofc

You: i'm down

Dabi: What if I'm a creep after all

You: if anything, it means i won't have to attend my lecture about carbon dots tmrw

Dabi: I can't tomorrow Dabi: What about the day after Dabi: I'll give u my credit card info if it makes you feel more safe, don't bother trying to buy anything with it tho, you'll be disappointed

You: you may not show it a whole lot, but are you actually a considerate person? You: the day after sounds good

Dabi: Preem

You: oreryu shio ramen, right by harajuku station You: about time you had some good karaage You: my treat You: unless that's too far away for u

Dabi: I would fly across the world for u Dabi: Yes Harajuku works fine

Mar 14 08:49 AM

You: how will i recognise u You: what do u look like

Dabi: As my dad once said. I'm impossible to miss

You: i laughed

Dabi: Guess it was all worth it then Dabi: Do tattoos scare you

You: i was gonna ask cause there's no way you got only a tongue piercing and nothing else You: stand there with your tongue out

Dabi: Shouldn't we at least get to know each other before 😳

You: don't get any ideas You: i don't intend to fuck u You: ...for now

Dabi: That's a relief, I thought I might have to file a restraining order afterwards

Mar 14 1:42 PM

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: If u see this guy u can still run the other way

You: hhh fuck You: are u trying to intimidate me You: how do you have so many tattoos but no bedframe

Dabi: Cut me some slack, I just moved into this place

You: fair warning i'm not as hot as u

Dabi: Bet

You sent an image.

Dabi: Why do women always lie. I thought you were better. I thought you were different

You: 😳 You: i'm actually worse

Dabi: We're such a good match

You: don't get ahead of urself. u r still a guy with no bedframe

Dabi: Please shut up

Mar 14 4:16 PM

Dabi: To be clear I'm not bringing flowers or anything Dabi: And I'm actually willing to let you pay this time lol

You: you have such a unique way with words

Dabi: A bit tight on money rn but I'll pay u back some other way

You: can we make that the first line in our sextape You: dw i said it's my treat and i mean it You: does that make you feel emasculated

Dabi: Who would I be to say no to free food tf Dabi: If there's a next time I can take you out for drinks Dabi: Nothing fancy but an old friend of mine owns a bar downtown and his girlfriend mixes a killer mule

You: if you're gonna poison me after gaining my trust over my favourite food i will be incredibly sad

Dabi: Give me some credit here. I'm trusting u to not rat me out to law enforcement

You: you're giving me ideas You: is there a bounty on your head

Dabi: I'm not that important

Mar 14 9:44 PM

You: so you're just too good to get caught

Dabi: Both flattering and factually correct Dabi: For the record I've never harmed anybody that didn't deserve it

You: thanks for clarifying You: i feel so safe now

Dabi: Anytime Dabi: If you're having second thoughts lmk before 10 am so I won't spend time getting ready for nothing

You: 10 am is crazy You: u r so vain

Dabi: Alright then I won't 😔

You: i take it back You: be pretty for me

Mar 15 5:30 AM

You: can't sleep

Mar 15 7:12 AM

Dabi: How the turntables Dabi: Are you alright

You: yes You: it's the good kind of sleepless

Dabi: It's fine if you're having second thoughts, I won't hold it against you at all Dabi: Just texting like this is nice too

You: fuck no i wanna meet the man behind the screen You: the myth, the legend, the crimelord himself

Dabi: I'm never showing consideration for ur wellbeing ever again

You: should've ghosted me before i got attached

Mar 15 9:54 AM

Dabi: Last chance to bail gracefully

You: you make it so tempting

Dabi: Getting out of bed then

You: it's not a bed if it doesn't have a bedframe

Dabi: Shut, and I mean this in the gentlest way possible, the hell your mouth

Mar 15 12:08 PM

Dabi sent a location pin.

Dabi: Is this the place

You: that's the one You: be there in a few minutes

Dabi: I'm waiting outside

Mar 15 12:13 PM

You: omg i think i see u You: im shy

Dabi: U literally have so much blackmail material on me

You: give me a second You: alright I'm coming over This message could not be delivered.

#dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #touya c reader #todoroki touca #bnha #dabi x you #touya x you #bnha x reader #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki toya x reader #league of villains #league of villains x reader #bnha x you #i hate that there are so many tags #my writing #(sort of?)#this was honestly super fun :>#x

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bandgie · 7 months

Text

On Your Knees Pt.2

ONE | TWO

synopsis: They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but this one seems eager for a treat.

warnings! MDNI 18+, fem!reader, incel!seungmin, pussy eating/fingering, PIV (raw), edging (m!), blue balls, multiple orgasms (f!), dom reader (kinda), banter, prolly more that I missed lol

3.1k words

Seungmin doesn't think there'll be any way for him to live how he has been. Even the friends he spends time with hardly compare to the time he spends on the bathroom floor eating you out. Embarrassingly enough, it's all he can think about. Even as the podcast he's watching blares through his headphones, he can barely make out what they're saying.

Something about how it's submissive for a man to eat pussy. How demeaning the act is for a man to do. Yet, Seungmin questions the validity of what these so-called 'alpha' men are saying. Is it truly so terrible to have the taste of a cunt on your lips? To suck and lick on such a delicious flower?

He shuts his computer off, ripping the headphones by the wire to hone in on his conclusions.

Okay so maybe this is normal. Seungmin's a big boy; it makes sense that he would eat pussy sooner or later. And if he liked it, that's also fine. He's a man, after all, it makes more sense to like giving girls head than to hate it.

Just as long as he doesn't try to reach out to you. Now that would be submissive of him. And if there's anything Seungmin is dead set on, it's that he is not submissive.

But days after not seeing you with Han, days of not getting a taste of the pussy that has him whipped has him doing things he's sworn not to do. He found your number, he texted you, and he's going over your house on your conditions.

He's so fucked.

It's too late to turn back by the time he's at your front door. Seungmin only waits a few seconds before the door swings open. He's seen you about a dozen times, but it's the first time he's felt his heart swoop at the sight of you. He reasons it's just because you're in a t-shirt.

"Oh wow," you take a step back and look at him up and down, somewhat in disbelief. "I can't believe you actually came."

Seungmin can't find it in himself to believe he came here on his own violation either. "Whatever," he shivers from the cold, night air. "Are you gonna let me in or what?"

You take a step aside to make room, "Since you asked so nicely."

Seungmin takes awkward steps into your apartment, noting the cozy setup and simple plants littered in your living space. His fingertips run on the soft material of the couch, pulling on the loose threads automatically.

You walk past him, taking a seat on your couch and reaching for the remote. "I was just about to put something on," you turn and look up at him. "Come on."

Tentatively, Seungmin walks around the sofa to you. Just before he takes his seat, you click your tongue. "Nope. On the floor." You point to the space between your legs. Seungmin hands close and open, unsure what to make of the situation. You sigh and loll your head to the side, looking at him unamused. "You gonna sit down or what?"

Seungmin glowers at you, "I am. You don't need to be such as ass about it." He grumbles a little more before bending down and crossing his legs to face the TV. "Nope, wrong way," you twirl your finger in a circular motion to indicate him to face you instead.

He looks at you confused, "But you said we were gonna put something on." You shake your head at him, "No. I said I'm gonna put something on. I never said anything about you." A hint of red begins to show on Seungmin's face, but before he has the chance to most likely curse you, you spread your legs.

You can practically see the words die in Seungmin's throat at the sight of your bare cunt. He acts before he can think, twisting his body fully and gripping the underside of your thighs to spread you further. It's better than he remembers.

"This is why you came, right?" You look down at him. "Missed the taste of this pussy?"

Seungmin licks his lips, nodding mindlessly. Something about taste and pussy, but he understood nonetheless. His tongue pokes out, but you grip his hair and yank him upwards. Seungmin whines, like an animal tore away from his meal, but you ignore it. "You're just here to make me feel good, got it? You don't get to cum, only I do. Do you understand?"

You have to shake his head to force an answer out of him. "Yes yes yes." He shifts anxiously in your hold. "Only you. I'll make you feel good."

Despite his desperation, you smile. "Good boy. Go ahead."

The moment your grip loosens, Seungmin latches onto your core. It's soft, it's warm, it's good. He moans into your cunt, inhaling through his nose and he dips his tongue between your folds. It's only been days since he's tasted you, but it feels far too long. How could he go a single minute without tasting you? Getting that sticky arousal on his lips so the taste could mingle in his mouth the entire day? Seungmin puckers his lips and kisses your cunt, a thank you for introducing him to a whole new world.

Your fingers mindlessly click on the buttons of the remote as you try and find a show. You keep switching back and forth between options, clicking random buttons until you accidentally set the caption to a different language. One of your hands pet the top of Seungmin's head, pushing back his hair and twirling it in your fingers.

His tongue slides down until it catches your entrance, barely prodding it until he slides it back up to your clit. He swirls your bud in his mouth, sucking and licking until your hips buck. "Shit," you breathe. "You really missed my pussy, huh?"

Seungmin opens his eyes to look up at you. He turns his head sideways to place your clit in his mouth, flicking your clit rapidly. That's as much of an answer as you're getting, but it does the job. He lifts his head back up and sucks harshly, pulling on your sensitive flesh before releasing it. You shiver and moan, feeling your arousal drip onto the couch that you'll make him clean up later.

"Fuck yes," your grip tighten on his hair. "Finger me." Seungmin leans back and uses his hands to rub your pussy. His fingers rub and swirl around your core until they're drenched. He trails them down until they catch your entrance, pushing his middle and ring finger in.

You throw the remote on the couch and grip the cushions. The stretch is slight, but his fingers are long. They reach much deeper than you could ever do yourself, and you let out a loud moan when they finally settle all the way inside. Seungmin pumps you slowly, getting used to how your walls pulse and clench around him. He watches as your cunt swallows his fingers. His cock throbs in his pants.

"Shiiit," you throw your head back onto the headrest. "I'll cum if you keep doing that."

That's all he's ever wanted. Seungmin places his mouth back onto your clit where his tongue flattens against your cunt. He moves his head up and down while thrusting his fingers in and out. Both of your hands are tugging on his hair, pulling and pushing him away.

"Already?" He pulls away for a moment to speak. "Didn't think you'd be this easy, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised." A devilish smile appears on his lips as you lift your head to look at him. You wish you could come up with a snide remark, but your head starting to feel fuzzy and all you can focus on is how close you are.

You push his head back to your pussy and wrap your legs around his body, locking him in. "I'll make you regret saying that."

Seungmin laughs into your cunt, happy that he succeeded in pissing you off. Now that he's pushed against you, it's a little difficult to finger you as rapidly, but you rather like the shallow thrusts. It gives you more to clench down on and ride while he licks your clit. You buck your hips and ride his face inelegantly. The first hints of your orgasm build in your stomach, making your body feel unbelievably warm as your hips stutter.

"Fuck," you rasp. "Imma cum." You blink a few times and lazily smile at him, "Did you miss the taste of that too?"

As an answer, Seungmin buries himself so deep into you that his nose is pressed against your clit. The extra texture is enough to send you over the edge, creaming on his fingers and twitching in his mouth. He happily gulps down your arousal, slipping his fingers out to replace them with his tongue instead.

You just taste so good. Seungmin is delightfully reminded of how it felt to swallow you for the first time, how the taste settled on his tastebuds. His tongue scoops out the white cream your pussy flooded out and spreads it on your clit before licking it back up again.

He hums, shoving his cum-stained fingers when you finally release him from your hold.

Seungmin wants it again. His hands splay over your thighs to spread them. After all, it's you who gets to cum. It's only fair he makes sure you can as much as possible. But before his tongue has the chance to find its rightful place in your pussy, you snap your legs shut.

He looks up at you like a wounded dog, "Hey! Open them back up!"

Seungmin isn't sure what he's expecting to see, but it definitely isn't how you look right now. Flushed with a heaving chest, eyes that are wide and full of arousal, and a cheeky smile on your bitten lips. He's reminded of how pretty you actually are.

"Get up," you snap him out of his thoughts. "Take off your pants too."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Seungmin rises from his aching knees and fumbles with his belt. He unties it quickly before undoing the top of his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers. You gasp, eyes locking with his cock for the first time.

"Holy shit," you slap a hand over your mouth. He's hard. His cock is red at the tip, leaking with so much precum you think he's had to stain his underwear. You can almost see it twitching from lack of attention, begging to be touched.

Seungmin smiles, grabbing the base and squeezing it. "You like it, huh?" It's not easy to take your gaze off his length to look into his eyes instead. The sight of him has you aching to be filled. Your pussy clenches around nothing, but you keep your nose upturned, "It's alright."

He scoffs, but the smile never fades. You widen your legs and welcome him, watching as he gets into a half-squat position to angle his cock towards your entrance. Seungmin rubs his tip over your sensitive clit. When it catches your nub, you jolt. You wrap your legs around him and bring him closer. He does it again, this time pressing the head of his cock down to apply pressure.

You reason he's doing this on purpose. Making your pussy squelch and your hips jolt to try and get him inside. As much as you hate to admit it, he's good with his dick. Teasing you by slowly dragging the fat of his head down your slit, slapping his tip and your wet cunt. You're annoyingly reminded of what he said days ago; 'I can make a girl cum. I just don't care to.'

The words echo in your mind and you scrunch your nose. "God, fuck! Stop pissing me off and put it in already."

For a moment, you think he's going to defy you. His tip trails lower and lower until it's against your entrance. Seungmin steadies his cock at the base and pushes forwards, barely spreading you open. "Didn't think I'd ever hear you begging for my cock," he smiles at you teasingly. "You were being such a feminist the other day. What happened?"

Not-so-nice words begin to form in your head and before you get the chance to spew them out, Seungmin pushes all the way in. His cock stretches you out more than you anticipated, and it's whines that leave your lips instead. He doesn't give you the chance to adjust as he pulls nearly all the way, save for his tip, before slamming back in. Your entire body jolts and you whimper again.

Your pussy can't keep up with his pace, but you hardly mind the pain. It blurs into white pleasure that burns hot in your cunt.

"You hear that?" Seungmin pants through his thrusts. "That's the sound of your pussy getting fucked by an...what was it again? An incel?" He laughs as your eyes darken with anger, seething with a type of emotion you're not too familiar with.

You reach out the grip his wrist that's placed on the side of the couch, digging your nails into his flesh. Seungmin hardly notices the pain, his teeth shining in his shit-eating smile.

The words are stuck in your throat. You want no more than to tell Seungmin how much of an ass he is, that his cock is merely adequate, but you can't. Every drag of his length rubs against your walls deliciously. You can practically feel every vein on him as he fucks you raw. He makes your hot pussy even hotter and he, unfortunately for you, keeps dragging his cock against that sweet spot deep inside you.

"You," a breath from you, "are a dick."

Strangely enough, your words seem to spur him on more. He tears his hand from your iron grip to place them both under your hips. Seungmin angles your hips upwards and drives forward, shoving his cock unbelievably deeper. Your hands shoot up to your face, trying to block all sounds of pleasure, but Seungmin can hear them. He can hear the gasping behind your fingers, the high-pitched moans muffled in your hands.

Seungmin laughs, but it sounds winded. "A dick huh? That's funny. You seem to like being fucked by one."

It occurs to you that you've been too lenient on him. Letting him eat the very same pussy he's thrusting into, letting him fuck you raw. His attitude needs some shaping.

You let him keep fucking you. You let his cock throb and twitch in your pussy. He's close, but he's doing good at holding back. Seungmin must be used to dumping his cum and leaving, but he seems to hold out just for you. It's cute, but your plan is better.

Your head bounces with every thrust. Seungmin makes sure to keep his long fingers at your clit the entire time, switching between pinching and flicking against it. It helps to build your second orgasm. Your jaw falls open and your moans become more frequent.

"Shit," he breathes. "Pussy gripping me so tight. Is someone gonna cum again?"

Blinking up at him, you nod. Your hand grips your chest, squeezing your boobs underneath the material as you keep nodding. "Mhm. Keep fucking my pussy and I'll cream all over your cock." That does it for him. Seungmin has been holding back his orgasm so much that his ears feel like they might burst.

With new vigor, he fucks into you harder, deeper. Seungmin doesn't try to hide the animalistic sounds he makes, groaning and moaning as your walls wrap around his cock. "You want my cum, huh? Acting all big and strong when it's you're begging for it. Say it. Tell me you want my cum."

You don't, not because you're prideful, but because you can't. He's thrusting into you so roughly that words seem to leave you. His hand pulls your clit roughly, and the harsh tug drives you over the edge. You squeeze your breasts so tightly to anchor yourself. You can feel how your pussy floods with your cum, leaving your legs trembling and shaking.

Seungmin can feel it too. The pulsing, the wetness. It's enough to finally let him release. His balls tighten, his dick twitches, and he-

"Pull out."

Seungmin doesn't know why he listens. He was so close to his orgasm, he could still taste it on his tongue. But your demand outweighs his need to cum. With a wail, he pulls out. A small whimper makes its way past you as he finally slips out, cock shining in your cum.

His cock is red, rubbed nearly raw from how good he was keeping himself at bay. You can see the head of his cock pulsing, worse than the first time you saw it. A wicked smile finds your lips.

"Do you remember what I said earlier, Seungie?" You speak with artificial gentleness. Seungmin is too busy trying not to cum, squeezing the base of his cock almost painfully. You have to repeat your question before he finally looks up to you. "Huh? About what?"

"About who gets to cum," you remind him. "Who is it that gets to cum tonight?"

Seungmin thinks back about how you presented your cunt to him, bare and wet. He briefly recalls how you said something about being the only one to cum, but he was so entranced by your sweet pussy that he hardly cared.

He frowns, face flushed. "But that's not fair! I ate you out. You came on my tongue. You came on my dick. I'm so hard and-"

"And that doesn't matter," you interrupt him. "I never said you can cum. That's your fault for assuming you could." You have to bite back you smile at his pitiful reaction.

Even with his dejected look, you can't help but find it somewhat cute. You fake a pout and click your tongue, "Poor thing. Here, kisses will make you feel better."

Seungmin wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't you widening your legs and him falling to his knees. Yet, he does just that. You feel his warm, wet tongue on your throbbing clit. Sucking and licking eagerly like he forgot about the aching cock between his legs.

You fondly brush the hair from his face as he eats you out for the second time tonight. His eyes look up to you with your clit in your mouth and you shiver. Seungmin will be a handful for sure, but you can't help but think you've found the perfect diamond in the rough.

a/n: omfg I actually had a whole different idea but I scraped it and did this instead :p. if you wanna ask for a third part, please don't, I have no more plot for this fic tags: @mynsung, @andassortedkpop, @jminnnnnnn, @geneziesm, @applekiwi3202, @i6gyuu, @lazycarolinamoment, @lewoh-ot8-wh0re, @ihave-atummyache, @seeeeking-skz, @loeyscock, @blankdyean, @dini-recs, @yzsqu, @desirehorizon-recsextra a/n: I need to start asking if people want tags rather than looking through my comments and see who was asking for a pt 2 :(

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz #stray kids #skz seungmin #stray kids seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin #seungmin stray kids #seungmin skz #seungmin skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours

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cvpidzcvrse · 4 days

Text

Nah, I'm Better.

divider by @cafekitsune

✦A/N: OK! this took longer than expected but LISTEN! I'm here now and probably will be dropping more frequently (hopefully). Reader is also a slut I mean she could talk me through it and I'd let her. But I tried to eat down as much as possible for this fic so the girlies and the gays wouldn't starve. Gojo is driving my dream car, a girl can only imagine.

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Synopsis: You and Satoru have been best friends since elementary school. By the time you both made it to college he’s hated every single partner you’ve ever had. Your recent ex isn’t any different, but he’s doing something about it this time.

⋆.ೃ࿔*･wc: 2,886

⋆.ೃ࿔*Warnings: best friends to lovers, praise, car sex, arguments (ish), cowgirl, choking, handjob, p in v, no protection, finishing inside (practice safe sex)

(the reader is black)

If you had a dollar for every time you and Satoru got mistaken for a couple you’d be rich, not richer than him. He loves it when people mistake him for your boyfriend. It’s the ego boost he doesn’t need. He’s liked you for a while but you always shut him down. Either for another guy or because you see him as just a “friend”. You knew that was a lie, you didn’t want to ruin the friendship between you guys. So to buried your feelings for Satoru and used other men as a distraction. Fuck buddies, friends with benefits, sugar daddies, you name it. Nothing was ever successful; it always ended in heartbreak or fights. Satoru hated that you went for men who were lower than your standard.

He hated that you didn’t go for him. That’s part of the reason why he’s parked outside a fancy restaurant waiting for you to walk out.

You thought this guy was the one, you’d been talking for a couple weeks, going on dates, even fucked a few times. But no people always have to ruin it, it was fun while it lasted. Mahito was a guy you met off of Tinder. He was nice, sweet, and probably the realest guy you’ve ever met. That was until date number four when he brought up his love for podcasts. Specifically a podcast by the name ‘Fresh and Fit’, you know the podcast that goes around and hates on women for a check.

What a loser…

After learning that information you left the date immediately. Leaving him with a “Get a life, nigga.” before quickly walking out of the restaurant. The cold drizzle of rain calms your nerves as you heave out a soft sigh. Your eyes meet a familiar and sleek all-black Ford Bronco. An air of comfort travels throughout your body. You haven’t been this excited to see Satoru since…ever. He’s already looking in your direction with his cheeky smile, flashing you his pearly white teeth. He’s always been handsome, your whole life was spent watching girls and even guys swoon over him. You can’t even remember if he accepted any of the advances, you don’t even think he’s had a girlfriend that you know of.

His jagged blue eyes met your dark brown ones and it’s like a firework went off in front of you. Your waist-length knotless braids, glossy plump lips, and warm brown skin have him in a chokehold. The way your honey-glazed skin complimented your outfit made him want to rip it off right there. Luckily his windows are tinted enough to hide his very noticeable lustful gaze, but you felt his eyes burning holes into your head. With a visible frown on your face, you swiftly open the car door. You come face to face with Satoru’s fuck boy grin, you almost melt on the spot.

“When I said ‘call me for emergencies.’ It didn’t include shitty dates.”

You roll your eyes before playfully punching his arm. Satoru speeds out of the parking lot before you can even put your seatbelt on. Your back hits the seat roughly before you send a glare Satoru’s way.

“Chill out, nigga damn. You didn’t even hear how the date went and you’re already mad.”

“I’m mad because you didn’t listen to me. I told you not to trust that fucking loser, now look at where we are.”

You could hear his eyes rolling before you saw it. He’s the leader of the sassy man apocalypse and he never denies it. You grimaced at the undeniable truth that he was right, and you knew it. You cross your arms over your chest and gaze out at the widow districting yourself with the scenery.

“Hey…look at me.”

His light-hearted voice quickly melted in your ears like honey. He softly gripped your chin and turned your face to his. He analyzed your expression for a moment. Admiring your features, planning your future, imagining his cock inside of you. He’s quickly brought out of his thoughts when you playfully push his hand away.

“Hands off, this makeup took time.”

He scuffs at your statement before looking back at the busy road. You analyze him for a while, taking in his features. Your thoughts are more innocent than his, and you hope it stays that way.

“Listen…I’m sorry I didn’t listen. But, niggas man you don’t understand. They’re all so annoying.”

The more you think about your past rendezvous the more it turned into torture. Satoru knew about every failed date. He was always there to be a shoulder to cry on and a dick to ride if you asked him. He knows very well about your tragic love life, he doesn’t remember a successful relationship you’ve been in. He lectured you every time he picked you up from a bad date or situationship ending in ‘So, what are we?’. He wasn’t upset with you, he was more upset that you refused to see his obvious feelings for you.

“This is just starting to get repetitive. (✧), This is just...nevermind”

He smacked his lips at the end of his statement. A habit he picked up from you after all of the years you two have spent together. His mouth opens to say something else but nothing comes out. He huffs and runs his hand through his hair, he’s frustrated by the current events.

“Don’t get an attitude with me. You think I want to date guys like this?”

Your accusatory tone makes his attention shift slightly from the road. He scans his brain for what to say. He doesn’t want to upset you anymore but he also didn’t want to sugarcoat anything. As a wannabe lover, he wants nothing but the best for you even if it means telling you a harsh reality.

Your taste in men is shit.

He doesn’t have enough fingers or toes to list off the amount of guys that hurt you in the past. Nanami was too formal for you, Toji was a bum that leeched off of you, Sukuna was an asshole, and Satoru would’ve killed Suguru if he even attempted to flirt with you.

“No, you know what I mean. You deserve better than these dumbasses you go after.”

The venom in his voice is very noticeable. Satoru’s carefree nature is cracking under the stress of your love life. Your stubborn nature refuses to let you back down to him, especially when he’s like this.

“Toru’ I can date and fuck who I want! I don’t need to be lectured by you. I understand that you care, but let me live my life.”

Your response almost sent Satoru out of the car. His eyes twitched in annoyance and his knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel. You watch the way his jaw tightened and his muscles flexed. It turned you on, a lot. As much as you hate to admit it, you looove making him mad. It was just the way his relaxed facade melted away when you threw careless sentences at him. His foot softly pressed on the brake when coming to a red light. He slowly shifted his body to face you, if looks could fuck he’d be fucking you right now. Just the thought of him bending you over the center console had your clit aching.

“Do not say that, I will crash this car right now and kill us both.”

He glanced at you with a smirk trying to lighten the melancholy-stricken mood. You scuff at his childish antics.

“Oh my god, be for real-”

Ring…

Your phone buzzed in your purse, and your soon-to-be lecture got cut short. Your eyes widened when you saw the caller I.D. read ‘Mahito’. You let it ring for a few seconds before finally answering it.

“Why are you calling me? I told you we were over.”

Satoru's ears perked when he heard the hostility in your voice. There was a snarky voice on the other end and they were loudly throwing a fit. His eyes analyzed your expression and the way your calmness was replaced with annoyance.

“You don’t think I can do better than you?…You’re one goofy ass nigga, you know that?…Whatever, fuck you!”

You harshly shoved your phone into your purse and groaned. The awkward silence was almost tangible; you would have to cut it with a chainsaw. Mahito’s words circled in your head and it pissed you off more and more. Who does he think he is? You hum slightly when a very filthy idea comes to your mind.

“Satoru, I need you to take me somewhere.”

｡.｡:∞♡*

“Why the fuck are we here? Please don’t tell me you’re about to do something stupid.”

Satoru’s tone is laced with worry and confusion. He has no clue why he was parked outside of Mahito’s house right now and he didn’t know why you wanted to come here. You give him a cheeky smile before unbuckling your seatbelt and slowly leaning over the center console. You’re incredibly close to Satoru’s face, your nose practically touching his. All you can do is stare sensually into his ice-blue eyes, but the sense of longing is undeniably visible.

“What are you doing?”

His voice spills out lowly like silk touching your ears. You take in a breath before crashing your lips into his. He’s caught by surprise but that’s quickly replaced with lust. His veiny hands quickly trace every curve on your body and tangle his fingers in your braids. You pull away taking in the wonderful scenery that Satoru was turned into. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is messy. You both stare at each other in awe and affection. It’s like something was unlocked in the middle of this little plan of revenge.

“Get in the back.”

You nod before watching him walk out and around as you climb in the back. He opens the back door and stares at you for a moment, taking in the way your skirt is hiked up and your shirt tousled around. He quickly gets in and closes the door, basically pouncing on you. His mouth attacks your neck quickly, leaving several bite marks and hickeys. Without breaking the kiss you roughly pushed him onto the car door behind him. He lets out a low groan and rests his hands on your waist. You reach down and fumble with his belt buckle before finally breaking the kiss and using your hands.

“If you need help you could’ve just asked.”

“Shut up.”

He chokes out a gasp when you take his cock out of his boxers. You wrap your manicured hand around his big cock and slowly massage the length. You trace circles around his tip with your thumb. A low groan settles at the bottom of his throat as silence sighs escape his lips. He unscrewed his eyes to meet the brazen expression on your face. His chuckles and mixed moans are sending you over the edge. You reach down and caress your clit through your panties. Satoru doesn’t fall ignorant of this and quickly grabs your hand to stop the satisfying motion.

“Suck it, I want your mouth.”

He let out a low chuckle as you took his full length into your mouth. You let out a whine as the tip of his cock touched the back of your throat. Satoru’s head flew back in pleasure as his hand rested comfortably on top of your head. He can sense your greed from the way your tongue moves along his tip. He sighed out a moan and softly pushed your head down further.

“F-fuck…you’re doing so well.”

He stifles a throaty moan with his free hand and laces his hands in your hair. You were quick to grab his wrist and yank his hand away. You trailed soft kisses up the length of his cock, from base to tip.

“I wanna hear you, pretty boy. Let me hear you.”

Your voice was soothing and soft it probably could’ve put him to sleep if it weren’t for the current circumstances. He melted at your command and quickly left his hand to the side. You tease his leaking tip with your tongue before putting it all in your mouth again. His mouth goes agape as slutty moans spill out and his hands grip your hair tightly. The way your head is bobbing up and down on his cock has his mind going blank. His cock twitches in your mouth before he quickly shoves your head away.

“I don’t want to cum yet. C’mon get on top, ride what’s yours.”

You swiftly straddle his lap and he pushes your panties to the side. You wrap your arms around him as he slowly pushes you on his hard cock. You let a soft moan and tug at Satoru’s hair. He moans in response and pushes you down deeper.

“Shit…fuck me, c’mon.”

His mouth is hovering over your ear and his voice is low and seductive. You slowly start to rock your hips and grind on his cock. After adjusting to his size you messily start bouncing on his cock. Strings of curses spew out of his mouth and his grip on your waist gets tighter.

“Like this baby? Mmph…you’re so big.”

The constant praise is making the blood rush to his face. He hides his blushing face in your shoulder and leaves several bite marks. The car windows turn foggy and the only thing illuminating the car is the moonlight. Satoru’s moans can probably be heard from blocks away. His hands are under your sweater groping and squeezing your plush breast. His fingers pull and twist at your nipples as your pace gets messy.

“Give me your hand…”

His voice is carnal and vibrating in your ear. It makes your clit twitch and your tempo stagger. You untangle your hand from his hair and place your hand in his. He takes two of your fingers and places them in his mouth. He doesn’t break eye contact, he’s just looking at you like a meal waiting to be devoured. He slowly sucks them and swirls his tongue around them. The scene in front of you is so sensual and slow, you’ve never experienced something so intimate before. He slowly pulls your fingers out of his as a saliva trail is the only thing left behind.

“Play with your clit for me. I wanna watch while you bounce on my cock.”

His voice moves like velvet through your body. It’s like he’s talking right to your pussy and she’s answering very loudly. The moment your hand reaches your clit Satoru plunges his cock into you. His thrust gets more violent and his large cock attacks your cervix. Your head dips back in pleasure in the constant assault on your insides.

He’s starting to unravel like a present. His strokes get messier, sweet liquid spilling everywhere, his moans getting louder and more frequent. His nail prints are embedded on your love handles and your thighs are a wet mess.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. C’mon baby you can do it.”

His pleading sends shivers down your spine. You’ve never seen him so desperate before, it was empowering that your pussy brought him down a few notches. His pussy drunk stare is intoxicating to look at. The way he’s looking at you with his eyes half-lidded with nothing but lust in them. There was something about the way he looked at you; it wasn't just lust. It was like you were a necessity to him, he needed you.

“Mmph…baby I’m ‘bouta cum!”

“Cum for me, you’d make me so proud. Cum on my cock princess.”

Satoru replaced your hand with his and traced circles on your clit. With his hand working its magic and his cock peppering kisses on your cervix sends you crazy. The car is rocking very noticeably but you could care less. Your climax crashes onto you like a brick. Your juices spill all over his thick cock and coat his length in a slippery mess. His warm and sticky ropes decorate your insides, leaving his pants soaked and a wet ring around the base of his cock.

“That’s it, I’m so proud of you baby.”

He tenderly pulls out and holds you tight to him, taking in the moment. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, you both desperately trying to catch whatever air is left in your lungs. You hear Satoru chuckle slowly while tracing kisses on your neck.

“What’s so funny? Did my pussy make you delirious or what?”

He shakes his head and lifts your head softly and turns it towards the window. While swallowed by lust you didn’t notice Satoru rolled the window down. Mahito is staring in awe and anger; he looks like he is about to explode. Satoru’s chuckle turns into a full-blown cackle as he glances at Mahito, sending him that cheeky smile that you love so much. You join Satoru in his joyous laughter before reaching over and rolling up the window.

“At least my plan worked. Let’s do it again but this time with handcuffs.”

#x black fem reader #x black reader #x black y/n #x fem!reader #jjk x black reader #jjk #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x black reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk x black!fem reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #smut #jjk smut

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multi-fandom-imagine · 7 months

Note

So, but of an elaborate request, but-

Reader that works for Vox as an actress or any other type of TV celebrity being comforted by either Alastor, Husk or Angel because Vox yelled at her, practically cussed her out and made her cry.

(Love your fics btw!!)

A/n: You're so sweet 😩, also why not all three 👏.

•Alastor•

Alastor knew it was you the moment you stepped into the Radio broadcast room. He could see tears running down your cheeks and he already knew what fucker was to blame.

Stepping close to you, the demon did his best to push away his anger. He knew Vox was taking his anger out on you because of him. What he wouldn't do to ring his scrawny little neck.

Brushing away a tear, Alastor clicked his tongue then pulled you into his body. He had to bend down to hold you but he did his best to comfort you.

"Now now dear, do not fret nor worry about what that clout chasing mediocre podcast says about you."

Letting out a few more sniffles you looked up at him smiling weakly. "Really?"

"Oh course dear, now let me deal with Vox. He will never make you shed anymore tears."

•Husk•

You were quiet when you sat down on the bar stool, your head resting on the table. He could see you held tears in your eyes, that you were doing your best to not sob. He hated seeing you cry, hated it because it meant that he couldn't do a thing about it.

He felt useless, he felt like a loser.

Wings twitching he made his way over to you, you looked so pretty in that dress. You had so much talent, to much talent for that jackass. Shaking his head he let out a grunt pulling you into his chest not caring about your tears soaking.

"He yelled at me again, the things he said....I'm so fucking stupid. Why do I keep doing this Husk? I just want to sing, I like what I do but I dont know how much longer of this I can take."

Frowning, Husk let his head rest onto of your head as he let his claw run down your back gently. "Forget what that freak says to you. You have more talent than that hack darling." Maybe he go do something to fuck Vox up, ya that's what he'll do.

He'a not gonna let that bastard get away with making you cry.

"Now can you give me a smile? Don't let that prick ruin the fun we might have."

Letting out a weak laugh you looked up at him with a weak smile. "Fun? What kind of fun."

"Whatever you like love."

•Angle Dust•

If there was one thing Anthony understood was the shared pain he felt with you. He did his best to hide the abuse he received from Valentine, just like you did the same with Vox. But he hated it, he hated that someone with your talent was being wasted on that bastard.

Peaking at your crying face, he knew you were trying to stay strong and he hated it. He hated it because you helped him through everything and you were doing this for him so he wouldn't worry.

"Why ya cryin over a freak like that!" Anthony did his best to cheer you up but it seemed to make you even more miserable. "Come on hot stuff."

Taking a step towards you, Angel dust gave you a grin pulling you close. "I got a sexy little number for ya to make a certain bar tender to stumble over his words. You guy's will be makin babies soon enough.."

A light laugh escaped your lips, Vox'a treatment of you completely vanishing through your mind. "You really think me wearing this would make Husk lose his mind?"

"Sugar, if it doesn't then you always have Lucifer." Anthony gave you a wink as he shoved the skimpy number in your arms. "Now hurry up and change...I gotta see his reaction."

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megangovier · 25 days

Text

Comforting him🫶🏻

Older! James x soft wife! fem reader

Mention of y/n Summary: James walks into the house and collapses on the couch defeated and tired. You've just came downstairs from running him a bath, he heads upstairs and relaxes. His dinner was in the over warming up, you'd cooked him his favourite and made a cookies and cream cheesecake.

Warning: Fluff, soft! Reader, alcohol, age gap, pet names, mdni ♥️

four years ago..

You were heading down the park, coffee in hand, book in the other. Headphones in ears listening to podcasts, when you accidently bumped into a handsome looking man "sorry sir-" your eyes widened. You couldn't believe how gorgeous he looked, he looked older than your dad but couldn't care about that "sorry ma'am, I wasn't paying attention" bending down to get your book James grabbed it before you could "here you go ma'am, I'm James btw but people call me Logan" shaking his hand "nice to meet you James, what a lovely name by the way, I'm y/n" James's face heated up, he didn't get much compliments but you made his day already.

"You're stunning y/n, want to go for a coffee one day maybe?" a twinkle in his pretty eyes appeared, and a shy smile appeared on your face "sure, here's my number I'll text you when I get home and we can set a coffee date" you haven't been on a date for years, it was surprising when a handsome man asked you, your stomach flipped, and your heart was dancing in your chest. You didn't know this man but why was your body reacting this way? he's a stranger to you but something about him made you somehow interested in him. The kindness in his eyes, the cute smile. You didn't know.

When you got home and closed your door, you were leaning against it with the biggest shit eating grin on your face, heart beating out your chest and knees weak. No man has made you feel like a jelly mess before, there's definitely something about him you like. Once your legs stopped feeling like jelly, you looked in your diary to plan that coffee date with James looking through you had a free day Saturday which was a few days away. You left James a voice mail as he was busy today and hopefully, you'll hear from him soon.

three years later... You both get married and brought a house together♥️

James was known to have such a strong work ethic; at times it did worry you when you didn't see him for hours on end. Sometimes he wouldn't come home which would cause panic, but he always came back to you in the end. So, when James walked through the door, he collapsed on the couch looking so defeated a sad smile washed over your face "I've ran a bath for you sweetheart, take your time up there darling, I've cooked your favourite meal and it's currently warming up in the oven and made your favourite cheesecake" James getting up from the couch, he kissed you on the cheek lovingly "Thank you honey, you're so good to me! see you soon"

James heads upstairs, you check on his food and turn down the temperature. The cheesecake was currently in the fridge, the table was set with one fork, knife and spoon. You've already ate a few hours ago but wanted to make sure he'd ate all his. Red wine on the table, whiskey in his glass. An hour later, you could hear footsteps coming downstairs, birchwood and vanilla scent in the air. You went around the table and pulled out his chair for him and he sat down "thank you gorgeous, this looks amazing" sitting oppose him, taking in the beautiful view.

You couldn't believe how lucky you're to have such a protective and caring man as James. When he ate, it always put a smile on your face, you always made sure he ate something throughout the day especially when he's busy away or close to home. He had just finished his meal and rubbed his stomach in satisfaction licking his lips "that was so nice, you sure know how to make my favorites don't you honeybun" a smile fell onto your face, getting up to put the plate and cutlery in the sink you head to the fridge and took out the homemade cheesecake you made for him this morning.

"So, how's your day been sweetie?" James said.

Looking at his beautiful brown eyes "It's been good, better now that you're home" a smile appeared onto his face, he definitely looks tired so after his dessert you are going to take him to bed and appreciate all of him. After a few more glasses of red wine, you took his hand in yours, opened the bedroom door and went into the bathroom to brush your teeth, went to the toilet and slipped into your pj's. James went in after you, did the same and both went to bed you being the big spoon. James was lying on his back now, your head on his chest. You always felt safe in his strong protective arms, you remember the very first-time meeting, James.

James always looked so peaceful sleeping, his chest heaving slowly up and down. This man beside you, weren't just your husband, but best friend too. Your lips were beside his ear nibbling on it, making him giggle "what are you doing?" eyes slowly opening to look at you. A playful look on your face appeared, he could smell your arousal, but he was too tired. At times like this, he would normally let you do what you wanted to him, but you just wanted to appreciate him the way he appreciates you.

#james howlett #james logan howlett #hugh jackman #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #megangovier22 #older!james x soft wife! fem reader #older! james x fem! reader #hugh jackman wolverine #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine

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guiltysungho · 2 months

Text

— boynextdoor when you need help to sleep

genre : tags. fluff, suggestive (18+), established relationship, comfort (?)

wordcount. 150 - 300

a/n. you might feel the quality degrade as you continue but i really just wanted to post something. its not too bad i hope, enjoy 😭

@onedoornet

sungho is used to your tossing and turning in bed whenever falling asleep becomes a task, and whether it’s a nap or full night’s rest he knows what to do to get your melatonin up.

he’ll keep you close, enough to feel body rise with each tired breath. gentle pats on your head as he sings a sweet melody to you, humming the instrumental part quietly for you to travel with the sound.

earlier in your relationship you had told him about this song, your childhood nights filled the same harmony he sung to you. he’d learnt the song just for you, for nights like this one when sleeping wasn’t so easy.

you remember the first night you heard the song from him, such a cherished memory. you dreamt of wonders that night, of you and him in a fairytale where that song played throughout the kingdom.

even when he was away from home where he couldn’t hold you, his voice would still be at your reach. after seeing how much you enjoyed his singing, he’d recorded the song for you, saving it on your phone so you could always sleep soundly even when you were miles apart.

when you can’t sleep neither can riwoo, he needs to see you sleeping soundly for the slumber to settle in. he doesn’t know exactly how to make you fall asleep but he tries to figure it out based on general opinions.

so when it’s time to sleep the whole mood in the room switches. rain ambiance noises added to a white noise in the background, cool toned led lights, air purifier, assuming at least one thing would work so got everything.

most of the time you end up laughing, watching him put on every appliance in the room to set the mood right just makes you smile. checking with you on the settings, asking if you want to change the rain sounds to fire place sounds since its winter.

while laughing doesn’t help you sleep, whenever you did fall asleep you were at ease. no matter what happened in the day, you could look forward to the sleeping sessions because of the joy they brought.

at times he would go the extra length and start counting sheep out loud for the both of you, giggling together at each number when you should be sleeping.

the truth was you knew exactly how to fall asleep, you’d fall asleep in the first couple minutes, just lying down on his chest, arm around his torso, but you liked the whole drama of it all so you would let it happen.

jaehyun is like a homemade podcast, you’ll lay there between his thighs while he tells you all about everything. sometimes he’d tell you about his day, depending on how interesting it was and other times he’d tell stories.

he knows you like listening to him so plays with that, telling you all sorts of things that grow more unbelievable as he goes on. at times you’re unsure if he is even saying coherent words or just making sounds that sound like words.

it never did bother you though, if anything you loved it the more incoherent, the easier the slumber came. you would let him play with your hair as he told a story you’d never heard of before, braiding it to the best of his abilities.

something about having his fingers tangled up in your hair and his voice so close to your ears made sleeping such an easy task, you wonder how it was ever hard for you.

you’d fall asleep to his sweet voice, bedtime stories from your one and only. even when he’s far from you he finds a way to make it work, late night calls were he'd just take you along with him, narrating his every movement.

he knows by your soft hums through the line that it works just as well so he continues till all he can hear is your quiet snoring.

slow relaxing tunes fill your room whenever it’s bedtime. you get so close together under the sheets, cuddling as you let the music transport you to a deep slumber.

most of the time that’s all you need to fall asleep, his arms around you and sweet melodies playing from the speaker. the only downside being that it wasn’t an immediate solution to your insomnia.

for taesan there’s only one way to help you sleep immediately and if the tiredness is too much for you he’s always willing to help with a little stimulation. he’ll help you relax completely and release all tension from your body.

he finds it cute the way you always fall asleep immediately after an orgasm, the way your small hands would wrap around his wrist when you felt it coming and stay wrapped there once you passed out. if you need an orgasm to fall asleep he'll give it you with the most pleasure.

whenever it came to it his main focus would be you, wanting you to feel the most pleasure so the slumber could settle as soon as you orgasm. he plays with your most sensitive parts, teasing and pleasing you, kissing you wherever you ask for it.

when you finally finish your eyes are already shut as you slowly regain your breath falling into a deep sleep. he gives you a kiss on the forehead to telling you did well before letting you sleep comfortably.

leehan is particularly gentle with you when you're sleepy, to be honest he enjoys listening to your little yawns and groans that come whenever you were tired so he's a little more unserious in his ways of helping.

when you're tired in bed with him he'll whisper to you while you're craddled in his arms but it's more of an asmr session that a soothing moment. while his gentle touches help you relax, the sound of his voice by your ear whispering the script to a cartoon movie keeps the sleepyness from reaching it summit.

occasionally he will add sound effects to the show, mimicking sounds of bubbles with his mouth and flicking his cheek with his finger to remake the sound of water drops, trying his best to not burst out into laughter.

so most nights instead of sleeping you're giggling in a dark room with your boyfriend whispering the script of nemo to you telling you to imagine the movie while he narrates. with all the laughing you do you always end up falling asleep in the middle of his story, imagining your self in the movies.

he never lets you miss out on his late night asmr, even when he isn't with you he send you voice memos whispering to you in the most erotic way while telling you to tuck yourself in bed tight. giving you some sort of guided meditation session so you can sleep soundly.

#boynextdoor #bnd x reader #boynextdoor fluff #onedoornet #gs.files #bnd fluff #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor fanfic #sungho boynextdoor #jaehyun boynextdoor #boynextdoor riwoo #boynextdoor leehan #taesan boynextdoor

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w2soneshots · 2 months

Text

Train -George clarkey

words: 0.7k+

warnings: none.

summary: you create conversation with a cute British boy after the train your both on breaks down.

notes: hi! I’ve had some people ask for a George fic and I’m also majorly crushing on him rn so here we are🫶🏼. I’m not sure how I came up with this idea but I love it! Enjoy🤗💘

I spent my day running errands and was just about to get on my train home when I spotted a good looking man who seemed to be around my age. I admired his brown hair, blue eyes and how tall he was. Since it was pretty late there weren't loads of people on the train meaning it was only me, the mystery man and a few others in the cart.

I took a seat then got my headphones out of my bag and popped them on so I could listen to some music and relax. After almost twenty minutes the train abruptly came to a stop. I furrowed my brows.

Suddenly a woman's voice was heard through the speakers as she announced that they were having some technical problems but not to panic.

After a few minutes the woman's voice could be heard again telling everyone that they were working on the problem but that it could be a while before we start moving again. I sighed deeply, removing my headphones and looking around.

My eyes locked with the mystery man I'd seen earlier. "Is this a sign that we're meant to meet?" My delusional mind thought. He stood up, walking towards me. My heart began to race.

He sat down opposite me. "Hey. I'm George." He began. I smiled lightly. "Hello George. I'm y/n." It was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "You on your way home?" He asked. I nodded. "Yeah, are you?"

The conversation continued to flow as we spoke about our lives. He explained his job to me and that's when I realised that I'd seen him on tiktok before. "Wait, were you the guy with a beep in his garage?" He chuckled. "Yeah, I was." "Ah! That's why you looked familiar. I remember being really invested in you finding it."

He cleared his throat after a little while. "So do you have a boyfriend?" I shook my head with a light sigh. "Nope. Do you have a girlfriend?" "No," Relief washed over my body. "Could I get your number then?" He asked. I smiled. "Sure. Pass me your phone." I typed in my number then gave it back to him.

He slipped it back into his pocket with a quick "thanks." Then he spoke again. "So, where do you live?" "London." I replied, getting comfy in my seat. He smiled. "Oh, same! Whereabouts are you?"

It turns out we live just five minutes from each other. My mind was racing by this point. I'd just met this cute guy, we're stuck on a train that broke down, we live super close and he's funny. I couldn't believe my luck.

After almost an hour the train began to move. A smile spread across both of our faces but secretly we were really enjoying each other's company and slightly sad that the conversation was about to end. As the train approached our stop we both stood up.

"Well, it was nice to meet you George." I said as we now stood outside of the train station. "Yeah you too. I'll call you." He replied sweetly. We shared a quick hug then went our separate ways.

Once I got home I called my friend. "You'll never believe what happened!" I exclaimed as she answered the phone. "What?" She asked inquisitively. "I met the cutest guy! The train we were both on broke down so we started talking and he asked for my number." "Oh my god! What does he look like?"

I searched "garage beep guy" into tiktok and his account immediately popped up. I clicked on the link to his instagram then told her the username. "y/n! He's adorable! Wait is he famous or something?" "He's like an influencer I think. He has a podcast, he does tiktok and youtube." I replied.

The next day I woke up to a message from an unknown number. It took my brain a second to register who it was from. The text read; "Hey, it's George from the train yesterday." "Hi :)" I replied quickly. "I was wondering if you wanted to meet up sometime for a drink?" He asked. I smiled slightly at my screen, suddenly exited and quite surprised that he'd actually texted me in the first place. "Sure, I'd love that."

#george clarkey #george clarke #georgeclarkeey #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #george clarkey x y/n #youtuber x reader #tiktoker x reader #british youtubers #fanfic #image #oneshot #x fem!reader #x female reader #x y/n #x you #x reader #fluff

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dreamauri · 10 months

Note

hii!! i love your writing and i have an idea. toto wolff’s daughter used to date max but they broke up (bc yk mercedes and redbull rivalry) and she starts dating a footballer (it can be anyone that you want but i was thinking mason mount), but out of nowhere they break up and he shares in a podcast idk that shes still in love with her ex, max. id love to see how this would end 🫶🏻

┊𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max verstappen x fem! wolff! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 2, 104 ) ╰ 🫧 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

★ ☆ This was from like august, im so sorry its so late. ik the annon said anson mount, but i dont really know his personality that well, so you can just imagine any person you want ig ━━━━━

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

2021

Everything was so blurry. You could see the illumination coming from your phone, little blurry grey and blue texts. You couldn't feel your body, ragged, unsteady breaths falling to and from your lungs.

"Block him. And delete his number. I don't want you to go out with him or be seen with him ever again." Your father's strong voice was the only sound in the room. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, but he wouldn't even look at you, rubbing his eyes as he sat on the bed of your hotel room.

Too many things were happening at once. This wasn't fair. This was wrong. "Aber papa." [but dad] "My words are final, Y/N." He spoke with such authority and strictness, you hated it when he was like that with you. Looking back down at you phone, you saw the 'seen' under the last bubble of text you sent.

Panic shot through you like a sharp arrow, hurt climbing through you. Scrambling quickly, you block the number and delete the contact. You couldn't bare to see the reaction or the reply. And you stood like that for a few minutes, the world falling apart as Toto talked. But you weren't listening. And you didn't want to listen. You didn't want to hear his voice.

And before you were to even realize it, you'd smashed the phone against the wall.

You tore the Mercedes shirt off your body, replaced it with a random sweater, stomping around the room, collecting your things. "What are you doing?" Toto stood up, watching you stuff you belongings in your bag. He held your wrist to stop you but you only yanked your arm back, shouting something at him, anything at him.

Toto was defiantly taken aback. He's never seen his little girl like this. Eyes red with tears, yet so angry. He never even thought he'd hear such hurtful words from you either. No father ever wants to hear 'i hate you' from their daughter, and it hurt right in his chest. You shoved the Mercedes shirt in chest, zipping up your bag and headed straight for the door.

"My love—" "Ich bin keine tochter von dir." [I'm no daughter of yours] Was the last thing he heard from you before the door was slammed shut.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2023

The Las Vegas GP had truly ruined the city. Max couldn't even have a nice drive from his hotel to the circuit in peace. The traffic was heavy and the honking was loud. At this point if max could, he'd just dump the car in any corner and walk the few kilometres himself. But he couldn't. And this added another reason as to why he hated this Grand Prix so much.

Try something else, he told himself. Disconnect. Max turned on the radio flipping through the channels every two seconds when his ear caught something. His stomach was flipped upside down and he was pretty sure he felt like his lungs would explode.

"You broke up with Y/N L/N recently." "Yeah, I have." "But she was such a nice girl." "She is. She really is. She wasn't clingy or needy. Like the perfect amount." "And beautiful as well." "Very beautiful, if you get what i mean." The men on the podcast laughed. Max felt him self frown. How dare they talk about you like this was some sort of goldy locks story.

"Yeah, She's perfect and all. But she's really hung up on her ex. You didn't even have to ask her, you could just look at her and tell that she wanted something else. I'm not going to say names, but the guy really fucked her up."

fucked her up? Max felt his heart skip a beat, or even more likely, it stopped beating at all. He turned the radio off quickly, gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles bled white. Of course he had fucked you up, no wonder things went the way they did. They shouldn't have went that way. He should've never gotten his rival team's boss' daughter to fall for him.

No! What was Max thinking? The months he spent with you were the best things that have ever happened to him. It wasn't his fault. How would he know the Mercedes and Red Bull relationship would grow so bitter. How would he knew you'd be caught in the cross fire. He spends one winter break with you and then it all rips to shreds.

Was that why you changed your Last name? So he wouldn't find you? Must've been since it did work in your favour.

Y/N L/N.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Y/N L/N, Max thought as he typed the name into google. Your face was the first thing to pop up and Max had to hold down a gulp.

You definitely grew up. The playful and bubbly aura to the girl had almost completely dissipated, leaving a quiet and mature woman who looked very serious and uninterested, with a defiantly much more womanly body, enough to get you on the cover of vogue.

"You okay, mate?" Max looked up seeing Checo. They were gonna do the opening ceremony at any moment and the world champion did not look like he was in his head. Max quickly swiped off the tab and shrugged. "Nothing, just some drama." The blond waved it off, tucking the phone in his pocket.

The teams were being announced, starting with HAAS all the way up in the constructor ranking. "I never took you for a person to be interested in drama and stuff." Well, Checo was correct: Max wasn't into that kind of thing. He just happened to stalk his ex by accident since he couldn't get the thought of her out of his head.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You lied to me." You huffed, stuffing your hands in your pockets, refusing to take a step further. "I didn't lie to you, technically. I just didn't tell you." Your friend shrugged, hooking her arm with yours and forcefully pulling you along while you tried to resist. "I don't want to be here, you tricked me." "I did."

It was certainly a sight. Lady gaga dragging Y/N L/N at the paddock of the Las Vegas GP. "The cars dont bite, N/N." "Yeah! That's because I'll be the one biting you!" The woman quickly let go of you at the threat. You went to walk out only to find people looking at you with exited and confused eyes. The exit was now too far.

With a dissatisfied sigh, you held out your hand and Lady Gaga took it, continuing to pull you along. "Today's just the race. So we'll watch. We'll wave the flag and then we'll leave." "I'm not waving the flag." "I'll do it."

You folded your arms, watching from the bottom of the grid on the side as the drivers arrived on the grid. The cars were lined up with car #16 and #1 on the top row, thankfully far away from you. Thankfully, the Mercedes were also far enough as well. You definitely wouldn't stand out in some non-flashy hoodie and shorts. You would've dressed better if you knew you were going to end up being forced into this.

People didn't really notice you at all, more concentrated on the drivers and celebrities. But they soon did notice you, a celebrity being pointed at by a driver. 'No way' Danny ric mouthed, face bright with surprise, a wide smile and arched eyebrows. He waved you over, and waved even harder when you shook your head in decline. You didn't want to appear rude. So you stood to his side, side hugging him as he rambled on about how much you missed. And you listened. You couldn't hate danny. he was like a big brother since f1 was practically your life.

"You should've told me you were coming, ya know." "I didn't even know I was coming." You chuckled, looking around.

FUCK! you looked away quickly, cutting the eye contact with Max short. Bad idea. Very bad idea. You thought, heart hammering in your chest.

"He still loves you." "Huh?" You looked up at Daniel confused. "Max." "no no." you shook your head. "He does." "he doesn't." "He was searching you up." You paused. "I saw it, your name on google." "That's called stalking—" "But he still thinks of you." "good point . . ." "You should think about it, considering how things ended. I think you should at least be on the same page." ". . . thank you danny."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Oh shit." You looked at gaga confused. "Hold this for a second, something's in my eye." She handed you the chequered flag, more like shoved it into your chest while she went to fix her eyelash.

"A little faster." Your hurried, hearing the cars come around turn 17. But gaga took a step back continuing to try and fix her issue. With a huff, you stepped forward, leaning your body on the railing, waving the flag just in time for Max who crossed first.

When all the cars finished the last lap you finally took a step back, flexing your wrist tiredly from doing all these Xs. You turned to see Gaga smiling at you, her eyelashes long forgotten because there wasn't an issue all along.

"You suck." You grumbled, and she laughed taking the flag from you. And just like that, finally you were able to get out of there. The crowds were too busy watching the podium ceremony to see you exit and leave through the parking lot.

You plopped in your car, turning on the engine. You couldn't bring yourself to drive out though. The excuse would be that the engine was still not warm enough. But really, you didn't want to leave behind those blue eyes again. they deserve an explanation for what they read that night two and a half years ago. But it's not like max would know you're waiting for him, or find you if that's the case. How would he know you're waiting for him in your car?

Well however he knew, he knew. The passenger door was opened and the Dutch man sat in the seat next you. You didn't even realize he had been looking for you throughout the whole parking lot, hoping to see you again. You've been looking down at your hands for goodness knows how long. You only looked up one you heard him cup his hands together and blow into them.

You cleared your throat, turning the seat warmer on for him. He must've gotten used to the warm Monaco weather for a cold city like this. The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes. You didn't dare to look back at him, because you knew he was looking at you. And if you looked at him, who knows what would happen next because for sure you're still fucking dying to kiss him.

"Max, I'm sorry." / "Y/N, I'm sorry."

The two of you froze, looking at each other. "You go first." Max nodded.

You took in a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. "I didn't mean to end things that way." and i didn't want it to end, you wanted to add but opted to leave that out. "Torger barged in my room and told me to end it right then and there. I didn't really have a say in anything." You sighed deeply, scratching the back of your neck. A moment of silence dawned in the car until Max spoke again.

"That explains the spelling mistakes." he chuckled lightly, opening his phone and scrolling through until he found your message chat. You could see the 'ts pver' and 'domt tezt or tqlj to me wver afqin' messages at the bottom. an un received message holding the words 'wait what?' 'baby whats going on' you never saw these messages, you'd blocked him by then.

"We should've talked." You admitted. "In person- discussed things. This wasn't fair to you . . . I really am sorry. I should've never let someone take control of me like that. I ended up hurting you."

". . . I always thought you hated me." You sprung up eyes wide as you turned to him. "No no. Never." You shook your head. You weren't even over him. "I don't hate you, I never did, Max. You're too amazing and important to me for that." You didn't even realize the words coming out of your mouth.

The words that led the blond to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a kiss. A kiss he'd been waiting almost 3 years for.

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greenorangevioletgrass · 10 months

Text

fever pitch (b.b) - prologue

soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?

Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.

The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.

When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,

“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”

Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.

Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,

“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”

The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”

“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”

Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”

Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour.

Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.

Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.

***

Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.

All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.

In other words, all in a day’s work.

There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.

You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.

And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.

There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.

It’s nowhere near enough.

There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.

“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”

She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!”

“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.

While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone.

His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.

‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’

Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’

‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.

Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.

And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…

‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’

‘...Can you?’

He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen.

‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’

Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’

The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.

“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.

He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…

“Excuse me, I—”

You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.

In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”

“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.

But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”

Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”

There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”

And boy, can he.

“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?”

He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.

“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.

“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”

“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”

His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”

This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”

Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”

“How so?”

“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”

“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”

The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment.

“Wanna get some air?”

He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”

You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.

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