#ya need to be adults to chat with and message me

[t4t-scout]

-

[joelmillerisapunk]

Tastes like strawberries

Dbf!Joel miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,367 (ma bad)

Summary: after accidentally sending your dads best friend a provocative photo meant for someone else you go to "apologize" in person.

Warnings: 18+, age gap (make it your own), handcuffs, scissors, power imbalance, alcohol consumption, f&m oral receiving, joel wrecks your clothes, unprotected p in v, reader has hair and wears a dress, just two consenting adults

Notes: this wasn't meant to be so long. But here we are. Thank you for reading hope you like it <3 Thank you @syd-djarin @joelslegalwhre and @mountainsandmayhem for beta'ing sending you all smooches! and @saradika-graphics for the divider <3 <3 <3

The soft glow of your phone screen illuminates your face in the dimly lit room. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and nerves as you craft the perfect message to the guy you've been chatting with on Tinder. His name is Joel, and he seems different from the others—charming, mature, and undeniably intriguing.

With a deep breath, you attach the sexy photo you'd taken earlier, one that you hope he'll find irresistible. You type out a flirty caption, double-check the name at the top of the chat, and hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

The next morning, you wake up to a message notification. Your heart leaps, thinking it's Tinder Joel, but as you reach for your phone, a sense of dread washes over you. The message is from your father's best friend, Joel Miller, a man you've known since childhood and who has seen you grow up. The preview of the message from last night is enough to make your blood run cold.

11:58PM: I think you might have sent this to the wrong person, sweetheart.

Panic sets in as you read the full message and your face flames with embarrassment. You type out a flurry of apologies, each one more frantic than the last. Joel's response is swift and unexpected.

8:05AM: It's all good, baby girl. You don't need those Tinder boys when I'm right here for ya.

The message is accompanied by a winking emoji, and despite your mortification, you can't help but feel a thrill at the familiarity and warmth in his words. 

—

Determined to apologize in person and clear the air, you find yourself outside the sleek glass building that houses Joel's wine company Vita Vino: where every sip is a celebration of life. You certainly don't feel very celebratory at this moment as the receptionist leads you up to the top floor, where Joel's office overlooks the city with floor-to-ceiling windows.

You step into the office, where you see the cityscape sprawling behind Joel. He rises from his desk, a smile playing on his lips, his presence commanding the room. "Come in, sweetheart, was hopin’ to see ya," he says and winks.

You manage to find your voice, despite the fluttering in your chest. "Mr. Miller, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I was mortified when I realized - I don't know what I was thinking, it was meant for someone—"

He cuts you off with a gentle raise of his hand to still your frantic words. "Please call me Joel, you know better than callin me that. It's okay darlin. Really. These things happen."

You look up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgement, but find only a calm, reassuring smile. "I just—I never meant for you to see that. I feel so stupid.”

Joel's smile broadens, and he takes a step closer. "You have nothing to feel stupid about. You're a beautiful, confident woman. Ain't no shame in that. Listen, what you sent—it was for my eyes only from the moment it reached my phone. I want you to know that you can trust me. I would never disrespect you by sharing that with anyone.”

His words resonate with you, and you feel the weight of your embarrassment start to lift. "I appreciate that, Joel. I really do."

He takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you two. His hand lifts, and you feel the warmth of his fingers as they gently tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. "You've got nothing to thank me for darlin. I'm just being honest with you."

The intensity of his stare sends a jolt of electricity through you. He's close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the scent of his cologne fills your senses, making your head spin. But before you can respond, he releases your chin and moves to the side, gesturing toward a large, framed map of the world's wine regions that hangs on the wall. As you both turn to look at it, your bodies are almost touching, and you can feel the subtle brush of his arm against yours.

"I want to show you something," he says, pointing to a very tiny out of the way region highlighted in gold. "It's where we get the grapes for our signature blend. You know, just like those grapes, sometimes the best things in life are unexpected surprises." 

As he explains the intricacies of the wine-making process, his hand drifts to the small of your back, a possessive gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. His touch is light, but the message is clear—he's staking a claim. 

As Joel's hand lingers on the small of your back, his thumb traces small, intimate circles that make it hard to focus on his words about wine. The room seems to shrink, the city outside the windows fading into insignificance as your awareness narrows to the man beside you.

 You swallow hard, your breath hitching as Joel's thumb continues its maddeningly delightful exploration. The heat from his hand seems to seep through the fabric of your clothes, branding your skin with his touch. "Joel," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur. His name feels foreign and familiar on your lips.

He turns to look at you. "Yes, darlin'?" he replies, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself against the intoxicating effect he has on you. "I -I should go," you say, though the words feel hollow even as they leave your mouth. The last thing you want is to leave this room and the spell Joel has cast over you.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he shakes his head slightly. "Do you really want to leave?" he asks, his hand pressing ever so slightly into your back, urging you closer.

The question hangs in the air between you, charged with anticipation and the promise of something deliciously forbidden. You know that saying yes will irrevocably change things between you and Joel Miller—the man who is friends with your father—but in this moment, none of that seems to matter. 

The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You're acutely aware of the way your heart is pounding in your chest, the way your breath has become shallow and rapid. Joel's eyes are locked onto yours, a silent challenge that dares you to take a leap into the unknown.

"No," you admit, the word tasting like a confession. "I don't want to leave."

The smile that lights up Joel's face is predatory, triumphant. "Good girl," he murmurs, the approval in his voice sends a thrill through you. He steps back, giving you both a moment to breathe, to let the gravity of your decision settle in the space between you. "I've got something special I've been saving for an occasion like this," Joel says. He moves toward a polished wooden cabinet on the far side of the room. The cabinet is locked, but he produces a key from his pocket with a flourish that makes you smile despite the tension coiling in your belly.

Inside the cabinet is an array of exquisite bottles, each one surely holding a story as rich and complex as its contents. Joel's hand lingers over them before finally selecting one with a label that looks older than you are. "This," he says, holding it up to the light so you can see the liquid within, "is a 1947 Cheval Blanc. One of the finest vintages ever produced."

Your eyes widen at the sight of it. "Joel, I can't... that must be worth a fortune," you protest weakly, even as part of you yearns to experience such rare luxury.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he retrieves two crystal glasses from the cabinet. "Money isn't everything, darlin'." His gaze meets yours again, filled with an intensity that takes your breath away. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather share this with than you."

You watch in silence as he expertly uncorks the bottle and pours a small amount into each glass, the wine swirling like liquid rubies. He hands one to you and then raises his own in a toast. "To unexpected surprises," he says with a knowing smile.

The wine is velvet on your tongue, rich and complex with layers of flavor that seem to unfold endlessly as you sip it. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the experience—and when you open them again Joel is watching you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. The atmosphere in the room has shifted, becoming charged with a desire that's as intoxicating as the wine you're sharing.

"You look so beautiful when you enjoy something.” 

As the last drops of the exquisite wine coat your throat, you lower your glass, your senses heightened by the rich flavors and the man standing before you. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes dark with desire that mirrors the pulsing need growing within you. He takes a step closer, the heat of his body enveloping you as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I want to show you more than just wine," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "There's a whole world of pleasures I can introduce you to.”

“Joel, I dont know what to say.” 

“Nothin’, you dont have to say anything pretty girl.” 

As the last drops of the Cheval Blanc dance on your tongue, Joel takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He reaches out to take your glass, setting it aside on a nearby table. His fingers graze yours in the process, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his body, the way his shirt stretches across his broad chest, the subtle hint of stubble along his jawline.

Joel turns back to the wine cabinet to return the precious bottle to its place of honor. As he opens the cabinet door, there's a soft clinking sound, and something metallic tumbles out from one of the shelves, landing with a thud on the plush carpet at your feet.

You both glance down simultaneously. There, gleaming under the soft glow of the office lights, is a pair of handcuffs. They're not just any handcuffs—they're high-quality, with a polished finish that suggests they've been well cared for. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you can feel a heat creeping up your cheeks as you look back at Joel.

"Well, that's not something I expected to show you today," he says with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of awkwardness.

You stare at the handcuffs and then back at Joel, your heart pounding in your chest. "Are those...?" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

Joel chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he nods. "Yes, they are.”

You're not sure what to think, you can only imagine how many women he's used those on, right here in his office. The thought sends a thrill through you, a mix of jealousy and excitement at the idea of being one of those women, of sharing in this secret, kinky side of Joel that he's kept hidden from the world. "I didn't peg you for the type," you say.

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, the playful glint in them replaced by a serious intensity. "There's a lot you don't know about me, darlin'," he admits. "And there's a lot I'd like to show you, if you're willing.”

You know that picking up those handcuffs would be crossing a line, stepping into a world of pleasure and exploration that you've never experienced before. But the thought of surrendering control to Joel, of letting him guide you through uncharted territory, is exhilarating.

Slowly, you reach down and pick up the handcuffs, the cold metal warming in your grasp. You hold them out to Joel, your heart racing as you give him a silent nod of consent. A slow, approving smile spreads across his face as he takes the handcuffs from you. 

His fingers brush against your wrists, sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You hear the soft click of the handcuffs as they close around your wrists. The sensation of being bound, of being at Joel's mercy, is both thrilling and terrifying.

"There," he says, his breath hot against your ear as he steps in front of you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Now you're mine."

The words send a jolt of desire through you, pooling low in your belly. You're aware of the way your body responds to his words, to the dominance radiating off him in waves. "What are you going to do with me?" you ask.

Joel's smile is wicked as he reaches out to trace the line of your jaw with his finger. "Whatever I want," he says, the promise in his voice making your knees weak. "But don't worry, darlin'. I'm going to make sure you enjoy every single second of it.”

He guides you toward the large, mahogany desk that dominates his office. The surface is clear, save for a sleek laptop and a few neatly stacked papers. With a gentle hand on your shoulder, he urges you to sit on the edge of the desk, the cool wood against your skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his touch.

Joel steps back, his gaze raking over you as he begins to undress and it's as if time slows down, allowing you to take in every inch of his mature, ruggedly handsome form. Joel's suit is tailored to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Each movement he makes stretches the fabric across his toned body. With practiced ease, he removes it and then unbuttons his crisp, white dress shirt. His chest is a canvas of sun-kissed skin pulled taut over defined pectoral muscles. A smattering of gray hair dusts his chest, trailing down his toned abdomen and disappearing into the waistband of his trousers. Joel's hands move to his belt, and with a flick of his wrist, he unbuckles it, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet room. He slides the leather out of the loops with a slow, deliberate motion. His trousers follow, pooling at his feet to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs that hug his powerful thighs and leave little to the imagination.

His arousal is evident, straining against the soft fabric, and you can't help but feel a thrill at the sight. As he pushes his boxer briefs down, his cock springs free, thick and heavy with desire. His cock is a thing of beauty, perfectly proportioned to his large frame, with a defined shaft and a bulbous head that glistens with a drop of arousal. It's clear that Joel is a man confident in his sexuality and the effect he has on you.

"Eyes up here, darlin'," he teases, but the heat in his gaze tells you he enjoys your appraisal. Joel's eyes twinkle with mischief as he reaches into the top drawer of his desk, the sound of metal against wood sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. He produces a pair of scissors. The sight of them in his large, capable hands is intimidating. "These," he says, holding up the scissors for you to see, "are going to help me unwrap my present." His voice is filled with a promise that sends a thrill straight to your core.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as he steps toward you. "Joel, wait—" you start to protest, but the words die on your lips as he places a finger gently against them.

"Shh... trust me," he murmurs, and there's something in his eyes that makes it impossible for you to do anything but nod in silent acquiescence. With a tenderness that belies his strength, Joel takes hold of one of the straps of your dress. The cold steel of the scissors brushes against your skin as he carefully slides the blades beneath the fabric. You feel a momentary resistance and then—snip—the strap gives way, falling limply to your side as Joel cuts through it with practiced ease. The front of your dress sags slightly, revealing more of your cleavage than intended. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as Joel's gaze darkens with desire. "You are exquisite," he says reverently, his fingers tracing the newly exposed skin along the neckline of your dress.

Before you can respond, he's moving again, this time cutting away the other strip of fabric that hold up the rest of your dress. The material falls away from your body like petals from a blooming flower, pooling at your waist and leaving you feeling deliciously exposed under his hungry gaze. 

"Joel!" you gasp, both startled and exhilarated by his boldness. "My dress—" 

He silences you with a kiss—a deep, searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt about how much he wants you right now. "Don't worry about it," he says when he finally pulls away, “I'll buy you ten more just like it.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, you watch as Joel's attention shifts to your bra. The scissors glint in the soft light of his office, and you can't help but hold your breath as he positions the blades against the delicate fabric of your bra strap.

"I've been wanting to see these since the moment ya walked in baby," he confesses, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. With a swift, precise movement, he snips through the strap on one side, then the other. The bra loosens around you, but it's still held in place by the underwire and your modesty is preserved—for now.

Joel sets the scissors aside and hooks his fingers under the remaining fabric of your dress and bra. He tugs gently, peeling away the layers of clothing that separate you from his touch. You lift your hips to assist him, and with a final tug, he frees you from both garments. You're sitting before him now in nothing but your underwear, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever before.

Joel's eyes roam over every inch of exposed skin with an intensity that makes it clear just how much he appreciates what he sees laid out before him on his desk like some kind of erotic feast prepared just for him. "You are absolutely breathtaking," he murmurs appreciatively as his hands follow where his eyes have just been caressing every curve along its way. Joel's hands continue their exploration, his fingers skimming over the soft fabric of your underwear. You can feel the heat of his touch through the thin material, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

"Eager, aren't we?" he teases, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear before dipping beneath the fabric. His fingertips graze your sensitive flesh, and a gasp escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. "I like that," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

Your body responds to his touch with an eagerness that surprises you. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Lift up for me, darlin'," he instructs. You do as he says, lifting your hips so he can slide the underwear down your legs. Once they're off, he tosses them aside carelessly, as if they're nothing more than a bothersome impediment to what he truly wants—you. Now you're completely exposed to him, sitting on the edge of his desk with your hands cuffed and your legs spread slightly. You feel vulnerable like this, but there's also a sense of empowerment in knowing that you've driven him to such lengths of desire.

Joel steps back to appreciate the view, his eyes darkening with lust as they roam over your naked body. "You are a masterpiece," he says reverently, his gaze lingering on the apex of your thighs before traveling up to meet your eyes. "And I am going to worship every inch of you."

Before you can respond, he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping your thighs as he buries his face between your legs. His tongue swipes across your sensitive flesh, and a moan escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you.  Joel's tongue delves deeper, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit with gentle flicks. You gasp, arching into his touch as he explores you with a skill that leaves you panting for more. His hands squeeze your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. You feel the world around you melt away as his attention focuses solely on bringing you pleasure.

As he works his magic between your legs, Joel's other hand travels up to cup one of your breasts, tweaking a nipple gently before rolling it between his fingers. The sensation sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, heightening the pleasure he's already coaxing from below. Your hips buck against him in response to the exquisite torment and ecstasy that overwhelms you.

You can feel yourself growing wetter by the moment under his ministrations, and when Joel finally takes your clit into his mouth with a soft suckling sound that echoes in the quiet room, it's almost too much to bear. He sucks gently at first before increasing the pressure until your whole body tenses and shudders with release.  As the waves of pleasure crash over you, Joel's mouth never leaves your sensitive flesh. He laps at you with long, languid strokes, drawing out your orgasm until you're left trembling and gasping for air. Your body is still pulsing with the aftershocks when he finally pulls back, his lips glistening with your arousal.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "You taste as sweet as I imagined," he growls, his voice rough with desire. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of satisfaction. The sight of him tasting you is incredibly erotic, and you feel a fresh surge of arousal at the thought of him enjoying your pleasure so thoroughly. "Come on now, be a good girl and follow me,”  he says, rising to his feet. He reaches for the chain between the handcuffs, using it to guide you off the desk and toward the plush leather couch that sits against the far wall of his office. 

You stumble slightly, still dizzy from your orgasm, but Joel's strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady. He positions you on the couch, your back against the soft leather and your hands still cuffed, placing them above your head. He kneels beside you, his body looming over yours as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you dizzy. "Spread those pretty legs for me, darlin'," he murmurs against your lips, and you comply without hesitation, eager for whatever he has planned next. He reaches down to stroke your inner thighs. "You're so wet for me, so ready," he says, his voice filled with approval.

He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his in a silent plea for more. He responds with a slow, deliberate thrust that fills you completely. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

"That's it, such a goodgirl, aren’tcha?" he groans, beginning to move inside you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting and writhing beneath him. "I know baby, s'big but you can take it darlin. C’mon take me inside that pretty pussy.”

His thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, and you meet each one with a desperation that matches his own. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, punctuated by your cries of pleasure and his low, guttural moans.

Joel's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation is almost too much to bear, and you feel another orgasm building within you, stronger and more intense than the first. "Come for me, darlin'," he commands. "Wanna feel you make a sweet mess on my cock."

His words push you over the edge, and you explode around him, your body convulsing with the force of your release. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're left limp and boneless beneath him. 

Just as the waves of your orgasm subsides, Joel slowly withdraws from you, leaving you feeling empty and exposed. He stands before you, his cock glistening with your arousal, and there's a predatory glint in his eyes that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

"On your knees, darlin'," he commands, his voice a low growl that brooks no argument. You scramble to obey, the handcuffs clinking together as you shift your position on the couch. He steps closer, his cock at eye level, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation.

Joel's cock is a sight to behold—a testament to his virility and raw masculinity. It's thick and long, with a prominent vein running along the underside that pulses. The shaft is smooth and warm to the touch, the skin soft yet taut over the steel-hard erection beneath. His girth is substantial. The head of his cock is a deep shade of pink, almost purple with engorgement, and it glistens with a bead of precum that entices you like the sweet promise of a popsicle on a sweltering summer day. You can't help but lean forward, extending your tongue to taste him. The salty-sweet flavor of his essence dances on your taste buds as you lap at him, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from Joel that vibrates through his body and into yours.

"Open wide," he instructs, his hand fisting his shaft as he guides himself toward your waiting mouth. You part your lips obediently, and he slides inside, filling your mouth with his impressive girth. He tastes musky and salty, a heady combination that makes your head spin.

"That's it, baby girl," he groans, his fingers threading through your hair as he begins to thrust gently into your mouth. "Take it nice and deep."

You relax your throat, trying to accommodate his size as he sets a steady rhythm, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and you fight the urge to gag, wanting to please him, to show him that you can handle everything he gives you.

"Such a good girl," he praises, his words spurring you on. "You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth."

His praise washes over you, filling you with a sense of pride and arousal. You moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss with pleasure. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls you closer, pushing deeper into your throat.

"Fuck, yes," he groans, his hips jerking as he hits the perfect spot. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You can feel the tension building in his body, the way his thighs tremble slightly with each thrust. You know he's close, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to the edge fills you with a sense of power.

Suddenly, he pulls out, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," he says, his voice strained. "Wanna come inside ya baby, make a mess in that tasty cunt."

He helps you to your feet and guides you back to the desk, bending you over it so that your ass is in the air and gives you a light smack to one cheek. He reaches between your legs, his fingers easily sliding into your soaked pussy. "Goddamn baby, you're still so wet," he marvels, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting for more.

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, slamming into you with a force that makes you cry out in surprise and pleasure. He sets a brutal pace, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.

"You feel that, darlin'?" he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "That's me claiming what's mine."

His words send a jolt of desire through you, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust with one of your own. You can feel another orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly.

"Come for me one more time," he commands, his hand reaching around to strum your clit with quick, expert strokes. "Wanna feel you milk my cock."

His words push you over the edge, and you come around him, your entire core pulsing around his girth and with a final, powerful thrust, Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his own release. You can feel him filling you up, the warmth of his seed spreading through you as he groans out his pleasure.

Spent, he collapses on top of you, his body heavy and sated. After a moment, he pulls out and helps you to stand, his hands gentle as he uncuffs you and massages your wrists.

"You are somethin’ else that's for sure babygirl," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

You smile up at him, "I'm glad I could make you feel good," you reply with a soft voice.

Joel chuckles and gives you a quick, playful swat on the ass. "Make me feel good? Baby girl, you blew my mind."

He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a sleek, black whip. "Next time," he says, holding it up for you to see, "we can play with this. But for now, I think we've both had enough excitement for one day."

You stand there for a moment, still reeling from the intensity of your encounter, and then you remember—your dress is in tatters on the floor. You gather the remnants of your clothing, holding them up in front of you like a shield. "What do I do about this?" you ask.

Joel looks at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What size are you, darlin'?" he asks, reaching for his phone on the desk.

You tell him your size, still feeling a bit flustered as he dials a number and speaks into the receiver. "Hey, Lexi? Yeah, I need you to pick up a dress for our guest here.” He looks at you questioningly, and you repeat your size for his benefit. "Got it. And make it something nice—surprise me.” There's a brief pause as he listens to his assistant's response before hanging up the phone with a satisfied nod. "Lexi will take care of everything," he assures you with a wink that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach once again despite yourself.

True to his word, less than twenty minutes later, there's a knock on the office door. Lexi, Joel's assistant, enters the room with a professional smile and several shopping bags from high-end boutiques. "Here you go, Mr. Miller," she says, setting them down next to where you're standing, like this is completely normal. "I hope these will suffice."

"Thank you, Lexi," Joel responds with a nod of appreciation. "I'm sure they'll be perfect." Lexi exits the room as quickly as she came in, leaving you once again alone with Joel. He gestures toward the bags with a playful smile. "Go on, darlin'. Pick your favorite."

You rummage through the bags and find an elegant black dress that looks like it would fit you perfectly. It's sophisticated yet sexy—just like the man who bought it for you. With a shy smile, you hold it up for Joel to see.

"Perfect choice," he says approvingly. "Why don't you try it on?"

You slip into the dress, feeling its soft fabric hug your curves in all the right places. When you turn around to show Joel, his eyes light up with appreciation. "You look stunning," he murmurs sincerely while walking over towards where you were standing before wrapping an arm around your waist then pulling you closer so he could whisper into your ear "But then again I knew you would." His words send shivers down your spine causing goosebumps to form all over your skin despite how warm it was inside his office at this moment.

 As Joel takes a moment to drink in the sight of you in the new dress, you can't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The way his eyes darken with desire, even after everything you've shared, is intoxicating. It's clear that his interest in you isn't just a fleeting attraction—it's something much deeper and more intense.

You smile at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Thank you, Joel," you reply softly. "For everything."

He chuckles and shakes his head slightly. "Don't thank me yet, darlin'. The day's still young. Now what do you say I get ya home safe."

With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air between you, Joel helps you into your coat—a thoughtful gesture that makes you feel cared for. He escorts you out of his office and down to the parking garage where his sleek black sports car is waiting. The ride back to your place is filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, the chemistry between you two undeniable and electric.

When he pulls up in front of your building, he turns off the engine and turns to face you. "I had a great time with you today," he says sincerely, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I hope this isn't the last time I get to see that beautiful smile of yours."

You look up at him through your lashes, feeling bold despite the vulnerability coursing through you. "I don't think that will be a problem," you say with a playful smirk. 

Joel grins back at, “that's my good girl.” 

As you step out of the car, the cool  air wraps around you. You turn to say goodbye, but he's already getting out of the driver's seat, coming around to your side of the car.

"Let me walk you to your door," he says, offering his arm with a gentlemanly charm that belies the fiery passion you've shared. You accept with a nod, and together, you walk toward the entrance of your building.

The silence between you is comfortable, filled with the unspoken knowledge of what transpired between you two. As you reach your door, you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Thank you again, Joel, for today," you say softly, "for everything."

Joel smiles at you. "The pleasure was all mine," he replies with a wink and leans in close enough that his breath ghosts over your lips when he speaks again. "But I have a feeling we're just getting started."

With those words hanging in the air between you like a promise of more incredible days to come, Joel takes a step back and heads back toward his car parked by curbside leaving only echoes behind him.

As the door to your building clicks shut behind you, you lean against it. The memory of his touch, his kiss, his words—they all send shivers of delight coursing through your veins. You can't help but smile to yourself as you replay the events of the day in your mind, each moment more thrilling than the last.

You're startled out of your reverie by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. Fishing it out, you see a notification on the screen - a new message from Joel. Your heart skips a beat as you open it, curiosity and excitement mingling within you.

1:07PM: Can't wait to unwrap that pretty little package again." 

The words alone are enough to send a jolt of desire through you, but then you notice an attachment—a picture. With trembling hands, you open it and find exactly what you were hoping for - a photo of Joel's large burly hand wrapping around his even thicker, larger cock, hard and ready for you once more. You realize he must have taken that in his car.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight of Joel's arousal, so potent and vivid on your screen. The knowledge that he's thinking about you, that he's hard and ready again so soon after your encounter, sends a thrill of power through you. You type out a quick response, your fingers flying over the keys with a boldness that matches the newfound confidence he's awakened in you.

1:10PM I hope you're not driving and texting that picture. Keep your eyes on the road, Mr. Miller.  you tease, adding a winking emoji for good measure.

His response is almost immediate, a testament to his eagerness. 

1:10PM Don't worry, darlin'. I'm parked outside your building. Couldn't resist sending you a little something to dream about tonight.

You can't help but smile at his words, your body already aching for his touch once more. But before you can respond, another message comes through with an address.

1:11PM Tomorrow, 8 PM. My place. Wear something comfortable and easy to take off.

1:12PM Yes sir.

1:13PM Oh baby you're walking Into whole new territory calling me sir. I'm going to put that pretty mouth to good use tomorrow.

Just as you're about to put your phone down a last message comes through 

1:13PM And leave the underwear at home.

[geek-fashionista]

A Business Proposal

A little while ago, I posted an interest poll for a series I'm planning. Since many of you responded that you were at least curious, I come today with... limited information. Limited, because the novel version of this series is currently being read by a literary agent.

But I've always felt that this story was too big to be contained in book format. Under a traditional publisher, I would lose the rights to my own property, so if they didn't want to see more of it, that's that for myself and the characters and the readers who fall in love with the characters. Self-publishing is harder. It needs to be a collaborative effort between writer and readers if it's going to succeed. Thus, I turn to the only audience I have with my "business proposal."

(Note: If you've been around long enough, you might recognize some of these characters from posts that have since been deleted.)

~*~

Working Title: Trainwrecks Length of Series: 8 seasons Length of Seasons: 24 episodes, 12 main and 12 bonus, posted biweekly. (Each season will last three months.) Episode Length: 1000-2000 words Setting: Seattle, Washington and its surrounding towns, between the years 2004-2015 Genre: Contemporary, YA to New Adult

Trainwrecks follows a diverse group of six best friends from high school to their mid-twenties, with all the romance, heartache, college and career decisions, and confusion that entails. Our main cast:

A bubbly, fat Puerto Rican girl with a passion for art and matchmaking (Ages: 14-25)

Her adopted, Argentinian brother, who is adept at music and pretty much nothing else (Ages: 16-27)

Their childhood best friend, an Asian/British/American guy who hides years of trauma behind a flamboyant and overbearing personality (Ages: 19-30)

His ill-tempered younger sister, who has just moved back to the United States from London after their parents divorced fifteen years ago (Ages: 14-25)

An equally bad-tempered Hawaiian/French guy with a love of photography and a hatred of bullies (Ages: 14-25)

The coolest, most beautiful Chinese girl you'll ever meet, who is fighting a sex addiction after a history of abuse (Ages: 16-27)

Main episodes will be written in story format. Bonus episodes will be in epistolary format: MSN chats, text messages, letters, blog posts, and eventually Twitter posts. Y'know, cuz Twitter didn't exist in 2004.

The main series (8 seasons, 24 episodes each) will be completely free to read and delivered directly to your email inbox. There will be character artwork, a bio page to keep track of everyone, a tie-in Tumblr account for memes, Spotify playlists for each character, and helpful things like family trees and relationship charts as well. Each season will have its own key artwork---cover art, if you will.

In addition to the completely free story, there will be extra content for paid subscribers and Patreon patrons, including but not limited to:

Sneak previews/early updates

Side stories

Back stories

Character and universe development notes

Entire AUs with different relationships or different genres

Money raised will either go towards paying artists or towards my student loans. And if the series gets really popular, I intend to launch a Kickstarter for physical copies that will include all the artwork and maybe some bonus items as well.

That's my business proposal. If you like it or have questions, comment on this post, scream in my inbox, chat me---do whatever but do it vocally because I need to know you're out there. And then, feel free to follow my Substack for updates.

[allzelemonz]

Lesson: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 11, Humiliation Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ and ‘man’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Kisses, smut, outdoor sex, long term humiliation, anal fingering, anal sex, top Reader and bottom Micah, established relationship, jealousy, rough sex, Bill is kind of a wingman Summary: When Micah gets too close with Dutch, you feel the need to remind him of something.

Now you have never had a problem with Micah being such a suck up to Dutch, but something about the way Dutch smiles at your sweetheart after one of his many compliments makes your eye twitch. Micah is doing his usual thing, being a massive sycophant and loitering near Dutch’s tent, and you don’t blame him. He was probably bored with you out of camp, but you’re back now and you can’t even focus on your conversation with Arthur because you’re too fixed on Micah.

He’s practically leaning on Dutch, his head tilted over with an adoring look on his face. And that would be fine. Micah is a suck up, you knew that as soon as you met him, you knew that when you got sweet on him, and you know that now. But this time, for the first time, Dutch is smiling at him. Not brushing him off, not giving him a half-annoyed thanks, but smiling broadly and looking down at your sweetheart with eyes you’ve only seen him reserve for Hosea. And Micah, the socially clueless fool that he is, doesn’t stop. He puts a hand on Dutch’s shoulder and smiles at him.

“You listenin’?” Arthur asks, his fingers snapping in front of your face.

“Uh-huh.”

Arthur sighs. “Fine, partner, we’ll talk later.”

With Arthur stalking off, Dutch’s attention wavers, favoring his son. He excuses himself from Micah and meets Arthur to talk. Micah’s eyes follow him, seeing Arthur and immediately snapping to the horses, because if Arthur’s back then you are too. For the time being, you decide to act unbothered. This is a conversation for later, a real conversation about reading body language and the difference between bootlicking and flirting, but before that you feel the need to remind Micah who he’s supposed to be such a desperate fool for.

He saunters over, the usual cocky look on his face when he wants attention. “Cowpoke.” He smiles broadly. “I missed ya.”

“Is that right, sweetheart?” You ask, your hand finding a place just above his gunbelt and pulling him closer. “You wanna prove that for me?”

And Micah, who long got over being judged for showing affection so long as it appears that he is in charge, leans in to kiss you. And you let him take the lead, you let him keep up his ruse of dominance. But tonight… tonight the whole camp is going to hear the reality, all because your dear sweetheart needs a bit of a lesson. You know you can’t just be harsh and cruel, he’d like that. Or, worse, he’d hate it too much. You could never call him pathetic or weak, or anything else he spits at others because that would actually hurt him. No, you need to poke at the shell rather than make it solidify.

First in your preparation, you visit Abigail. Handing her money and telling her about a children’s show you heard is playing in town. Because as much as you want to humiliate Micah to get the message into his thick skull, you’d rather Jack not be subject to what the adults will overhear. Cluelessly, Abigail thanks you for the money and smiles when she kneels down to tell Jack about the show.

Second, you talk to Bill. He grumbles about it, claiming that he in fact does not have a stock plié of pomade hidden in those boxes by his bedroll, but he ultimately relents when you tell him what it’s for. Fucking Micah, that’s one thing that Bill isn’t exactly keen on enough to share his pomade for, but making him look like an idiot… He hands you two full tins with a smirk on his face.

Third, you chat with Arthur and Dutch. One man, Micah can’t stand, the other he adores. Both are people that Micah would never want to know anything about his sex life. He’ll get over it of course, and you can’t count on your hand the number of times you’ve nearly been caught roughly fucking Micah out in the woods around camp. It’s best you capitalize on the opportunities rather than let them go to waste on some accident. So you make sure both of them will be in camp.

Lastly, you sweet talk Micah. You find him by the lake, whittling something to keep his hands busy. His hyper vigilance keeps him alert, hearing your footsteps early and gladly tucking away his things in favor of putting his hands on you. After all, you’ve been gone for an entire day and Micah Bell is a needy bastard. It doesn’t take much convincing to get him to walk into the woods with you. And you distract him, making sure he can’t tell how close to camp you are

“Been waitin’ all day, cowboy.” He grins, letting you push him against a tree. “Thought you was a gentleman.”

“Desperate bastard.” You mutter, pressing yourself against him.

You kiss him, more furiously than you usually might, and Micah feeds off of it. He returns it without issue, always happy to be treated rough.

“You wanna tell me what you and Dutch were talking about earlier?”

“Don’t matter…” Micah mutters, rutting into you with a half-hard dick. “I were waitin’ fer you… got bored.”

Starting gentle, you trail your hand down to palm him through his pants. He groans, pulling back from his kissing to focus on the feeling. You take the opportunity and turn rough, gripping his dick hard enough to make him whimper.

“F-Fuck…”

“You were being awfully friendly with our fearless leader, Micah.” You mutter. “He seemed to like it too, you notice that?”

“J-Just jokin’ around, sweetheart. I wouldn’t-“

He gasps as you squeeze his dick tighter.

“Just thought I’d make sure, darling.” You say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Remind you who you’re supposed to be fawning over.”

He huffs a laugh through his strained breaths. “Shit, cowboy, by all means.”

And so the standard. You get Micah situated, his bare ass exposed as he leans against the tree and arches his back so you can stretch him out. Normally, he bites down on his hand, but you’re far too focused tonight. You press relentlessly on that spot inside of him until he cums, not stopping for a second even though your fingers burn at that point. Micah huffs and whines at the overstimulation, so you start pumping his dick to make it worse. He releases again in no time.

Then you actually fuck him. Fast, careless, enough to make him scream your name before he can muffle himself. Perfect. And by the end, Micah can hardly breathe. He shivers when you pull out, your cum dripping down his legs.

“Do me a favor, sweetheart?” You murmur, pressing light kisses to his shoulder.

He hums. “Anythin’.”

“When Dutch starts smiling at you, stop sucking up to him.”

He chuckles. “Ya jealous?”

“You wanna get fucked senseless again?”

“Not tonight…” Micah says, wincing as he stands upright. “Too sore.”

“Then do it.”

“Fine, fine, darlin’. If it makes ya feel better, I suppose I can manage.”

And when you return to camp, you make straight for your tent. Micah is exhausted enough to crash onto your bedroll and drift into a light sleep in your arms. As usual, when you wake up, Micah is sitting with something to keep him busy and waiting for you to give him attention. After a long morning kiss and a few teasing words, he leaves to stretch his legs as you go through your morning routine.

It isn’t until you sit yourself by Bill and thank him for the pomade, handing back the half tin that’s left, that you hear the commotion. Sean, of course, is the loudest of it.

“Aw, what’s that matter?” He laughs, stepping back from a glaring Micah. “Just didn’t know you’d be such a-“

“Shut yer damn mouth, cowpoke, best chose those words wisely.”

For all the effort, at least you think Micah got the message. One that will keep not only him, but the rest of camp, remembering who his sweetheart is. And even if he doesn’t connect the dots, you’ll explain it to him later. For now, the blush on his cheeks is too delightful to interrupt.

[itslouisan]

My list of boundaries:

These are my boundaries for ANY social media I'm at this includes Twitch, TikTok, YouTube, here on Tumblr, Instagram and so on, on most platforms (except TikTok) you can find me with the same username, so let's go!

Color coding:

Disclaimer: breaking the no and mods only category will instantly result in ya getting a ban/block.

Sure!

Okay

Moots/friends only

Mods only (twitch/discord)

Thin ice

No.

For tumblr/tiktok:

- sending asks

- dueting my cosplay videos

- spamming like/asks

- sending me messages on DM

- moots only ages 12-20 older or younger than that I'm not really comfortable considering I'm a minor but also a teen (don't wanna talk to kids or much older adults.)

- DNI neo pronuns antis, therian antis, people who bully fandoms such as DSMP, QSMP etc; older than 20 or younger than 12, racists, homophobic, transphobic, WSS (don't support Wilbur's actions, I like his character.), basically problematic people and antis from fandoms I'm on :b

- NSFW topics (I'm a minor and ace)

- asking for mooting is fine after we interact a bit

- asking for oc info etc

For twitch:

- speaking in another language that isn't english or Portuguese

- self-promo

- ask for MY discord or chatters discord (just enter the server but don't get personal invites)

- sending links for discord servers or anything else

- asking me personal questions or venting in chat

- spamming messages so I read them

- raid suggestions by the end of the stream

- collab (talk to me in advance, like I'm collabing with two streamers in my subathon but we discussed it first.)

- practice internet safety, don't doxx yourself on my chat or I'll ban ya

- stopping by as a Tumblr mootie/tiktok friend

Personal boundaries:

- yeah I do show my face on stream and post cosplay videos and photos, but that doesn't give you the right to make comments suggestive, negative and so on in my appearance, also if you do find kid photos of me via family accounts or something, DON'T post them

- nicknames

- if you find my family or friends accounts don't interact or try to find things about me through them.

- flirting or asking my relationship status

- asking for discord

- venting

For ocs/art/writing etc:

- no NSFW of my ocs or novel characters. Some of them are based on real people.

- fanfics of novel characters (as long as SFW)

- making your own character design/redesign of my novel characters (I'll link a appearance description post once I finish it)

- fanart

- using my art as icons/on posts etc (no need for credit but don't say you made it)

I'll update this as I see fit :b I should probably update my fixed post too :v

[f0point5]

Holly shit I wanna talk about all the rumours about lando asking for nudes and etc, look I get it you are young, travelling almost every week to different places and just relieve yourself put leaking his texts from 2020 and now being 2024 like? You had the chance to to it for so many years and now you leak them and for what? FAMOUS PEOPLE DESERVE PRIVACY TOO! Just saying it louder for the people in the back.

Also the leaked texts of Christian? I have never been more icked and cringed out in my whole fucking life, you are trying to rizz up a girl idk age at least have shit to say and not spam calling her to Jack off wtf, his wife and kids being in the same house as him??? Or now they will read the texts too? I would never show me face on earth if I was him tbh also max being questioned about it and saying he should deal it himself is even more embarrassing, I thought horner was a sweet guy but I guess not Idk.

What is your opinion on this?

Leaking people’s messages is fucked up behaviour point blank period. If you are offended by something someone says to you you need to adult the fuck up and handle your business yourself. There is no need to let the world in on that. None. If there’s been a crime, you take yourself to the police. Failing that, block and move on.

But Lando, my sweet summer child, you can’t be shocked that these are the girls you find. I know it’s tough being famous and you’re travelling and you need hot girls that can fly out or whatever but messaging an influencer with 200k followers and fashionnova links in the bio…you’re not making smart choices. Again, there are ways to go about this, and he’s going about this like he’s not famous. I am not surprised his shit gets leaked.

On a separate note, I’m not going to roast him for asking for nudes, but I’m going to roast him for asking for nudes. I fully accept that he’s being a normal guy his age, but normal guys his age suck. Like just…is there anything that turns a girl off more than a guy asking for nudes on Snapchat? Buy an OF subscription and save that chat for the girls that are actually getting paid for this. Again, not demonising him or holding him to a double standard…I don’t like this behaviour from anyone, so he is included in that.

Never read a more dead, dry, crusty chat in my life. Or a more poorly written conversation. This man wears a pinky ring…why can’t he spell properly? The flirting is just sub-zero. This is a man who has not had to try to get a woman since the late 90s. Idk what spice (pun intended) he used in Geri but oof it expired a while back. Not surprised in the least by the actual content, typically nouveau successful married middle aged man behaviour. It’s all so very cliché. He’s stressed, he’s lonely, he’s sexually frustrated. Aren’t they all. They just be like that. No one in that business is sweet, that is a veritable fact. You don’t where he got by being a teddy bear. But yeah the cringe of that chat will never be forgotten.

He very much has a dad vibe to me still, in a very Freudian way. Like, the guy you gravitate to at work because he seems like he could be someone’s father and he talks so well of his kids, but at the same time he’s flirty enough with you to make you feel special in a way your actual father never did and he soothes your need for affection because even though he’s flirting you still feel like you’re receiving approval from a father figure, even if it’s not your father. Ya know?

[jessafer94]

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Anyone wanna make a lesbian/gay group chat with me? I need new friends highkey!

Idk as an adult how to make friend so fuck it we’re trying this 🤣

Only requirements:

1. Be 18+

2. Be respectful and don’t be a dick 🙌

3. Message me ya number to join 😎

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[shdwtouch]

I don't want to talk about what happened last night, and I honestly don't want or need the drama so. instead I'm just gonna stress that if communication is not something you are built for, do not follow or engage with me. if me asking for clarification or being awkward cuz of my AuDHD is a problem, do not follow or engage with me.

I have been. broaching my own comfort zone lately in an effort to communicate better with the folks who follow and interact with me. I have been trying to set clear boundaries and stand up for myself. I am doing my best to be an adult, and I would appreciate the folks around me acting like adults too and communicating. if me, an anxious and insecure neurodivergent with RSD and paranoia can do it, I am almost 100% sure you can do it too. and honestly, its like.

I promise I'm not mean. I'm not intentionally dense or difficult. I am a very empathetic, try-to-see-it-from-their-perspective kind of person, honest to god. and I'm just. really tired of giving folks the benefit of the doubt, respecting them, and being blocked over petty, trivial things that could have been fixed through talking it out. and ya know, I get it. this is for fun, I am not entitled to people working it out with me if they aren't comfortable. I respect that, I do, even if its hard. but at the same time, if you have any respect for me... I'd appreciate communication. I know it isn't easy, but if we both go into it with good intentions... I'm sure we can work it out.

also, for the love of all that is good and sweet in this world. fucking block me on discord if you're gonna block me on here. that is an incredibly mixed message, and as much as I'd love to keep you as a friend... if you can't communicate with me, then I don't think we have much to be friends about. sorry.

anyway. I am feeling a bit better, but I will keep tumblr off my phone for the time being. please feel free to reach out on discord if ya want to chat or hangout. I'm still a bit rough, but I'm putting my best foot forward. sending love <3

[oopsslay]

:D

hi!! im kenny and ive been on mcytblr for awhile but i wanted to make a new blog from scratch !!

*~ some info ^_^ ~*

im 22, i use she/her, and im in college studying psychology and english (talk to me abt ur fav poems 🫶🏻)

i mainly blog about dtqk + sbi but i also adore tina, foolish, niki, ranboo, sneeg, and the chuckle sandwich trio (im still including charlie ok) 

my url is based on this moment from a 2021 wilbur stream when he told chat he lathers on moisturizer and then rinses it off (capital offense).

talk to me about your fav music, movies, tv ANYTHING im always down to chat!!

i love using emoticons :P if u use XD you're not cringe i love you

i have a cat named after Mae from Night In The Woods !! probably my fav game ever. im also obsessed with my lil dude so i’ll probably share some photos of her from time to time hehe

im usually pretty good about tags but if i ever post/reblog something without a tag and it makes you uncomfortable/is a trigger pls shoot me a message! 

i dont necessarily think i need to make a DNI list but basically i use this corner of the internet to just blog about my little hyper-fixations and avoid negativity and such but ya know. im also an adult with Opinions and Feelings and sometimes might share them (just don’t be an asshole pls) 

 - my twitter (semi ia)

anyways if youre on mcytblr pls like/reblog so i can start to follow some more cool ppl <333

[strawhatsweets]

#11 with Deku😩‼

-🐸

Yesssss

11. “How the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickies?!”

Deku x gn!reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Come to the smut prompt game!!

CW: hickies, “daddy”, quickie, uhhhhh yeah that’s it

LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANY CWs

"DAMN Deku! You got freakayyy!" Denki teased as Deku walked into the restaurant where the group of old classmates met for dinner once a month. A group of guys from class 1-A decided to stay close after school and even had a group chat.

"Wh-what?" Deku stammered, sitting across from Todoroki, who looked at him and turned red.

"Yeah- damn man!" Sero agreed, hitting the back of Deku's shoulder.

"Christ, Deku. Nobody wants to see that shit." Bakugou muttered, looking back to his menu, as if he isn't going to order his usual.

"What are you guys-" Deku started to ask.

"Midoriya, your neck. It seems like you had... fun with Y/n?" Todoroki said, openly observing his friend's neck.

"O-oh my god. I didnt realize-" Deku started stuttering, taking his phone out in hopes of seeing his reflection in the black screen.

"It's okay, Midoriya, we're all adults." Iida reassured him, earning a laugh from Denki.

"Yeah but we aren't all so dirty huh, Dekuuu?" Sero joked.

"Oh man do they call you fucking daddy-“ Denki was interrupted by an elbow to the stomach by Bakugou.

“Shut. The hell. Up. I don’t want to think about any of you fucks having sex.” Bakugou scoffed, setting his menu down, waiting for the waitress to come back.

“I’m gonna be right back, sorry. Order my usual.” Deku said, getting out of his seat and speed walking to the restroom.

Prior to coming to this outing, you and Deku had decided you both needed a little de-stressing after a long week- even if it meant being a little late.

Before he left your shared apartment, his hands met your ass and picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom. It was a heavy make out sesh turned sexual when he stripped your top off, biting your nipples lightly and grabbing at your pants, trying to shove them down. He fucked you hard and fast, needing to cum in you so desperately before he left for dinner. He insisted on dessert first.

However, in his lust clouded haze, he didn’t realize you were leaving marks as your lips trailed along his neck and chest in between screams of pleasure. He of course didn’t look in the mirror before he left, trusting you to tell him he looked fine.

But you saw the marks. And giggled. And sent him on his way.

Shutting the bathroom door- that was luckily a single bathroom and not stalls, Deku looked in the mirror in horror. His face turned red and he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

He snapped a picture of the small bruises and sent it to you alone with the message, “How the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickies?!”

Your reply?

“Oops! Didn’t even realize it! Sorry baby :(“

You laughed the whole time you typed it, and he fucking knew it.

You were in trouble when he got back from dinner, that’s for fuckin sure.

———————————

Lil short and sweet for ya love youuuu

[haztory]

OK BUT THAT'S ME BEING AN IDIOT HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA drabble/sfw JAHAHHAHAHAHAH DAMN

““You better catch that fucking bouquet, babe. Our relationship is on the line!” + “You wanna go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?” with Bokuto for the loveliest Clara! from my writing event that is now closed!

warnings: adult langauge and that’s it!

a/n: i answered her previous ask for the quotes so i’m just posting the drabble here! thank you for your patience my love!!! i hope you like it <33333

bokuto koutarou x f!reader; (fluff, all the fluff and wedding shenanigans)

Bokuto loves weddings. They’re truly his weak spot. Ask him to attend and he’s there an hour early, regardless of whether you’re his best friend or his cousin twice removed. The man lives for a wedding.

He loves the sentimentality of the ceremony that never fails to make him teary-eyed and oppositely, he loves the liveliness of the reception, half tempted every time to push the DJ aside and take over the mixing of music with a drink in his hand and a sloppy yell. He’s a vivacious mess of mixed moods and energy, but truthfully, he’s the best date anyone could ever ask for.

The best attendee too, considering almost everyone wants him to be a groomsman. He usually can never say no, but this time, it wasn’t even a question; Especially not for Hinata.

But above all, he loves that every wedding he attends grants him ample opportunity to enter into the sanctity of his fantasies and imagine his own.

“Did ya see him up there?!” Atsumu barks with a hard laugh, one hand clutching his whiskey and another his suit-clad chest, “He was cryin’ more than the groom!”

Met with the boastful laughs of his fellow team members, all gathered in a scattered circle by the bar, Bokuto jokingly pushes the blond on his left with a loud scoff and a faux-defense tone.

“I held it in!”

 “I heard you sniffling when Sho finally entered the venue,” Sakusa says, pointing a finger at Bokuto with the same hand that held his own alcoholic drink, “Don’t lie.”

 The group erupts into even more scattered laughter, that of which Bokuto finally joins in. His suit jacket has long since been abandoned, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as he holds his hands up in surrender, “What can I say? I love weddings!”

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, Meian joyfully says from beside him, “At least we’ll know now how you’ll be at your own.” His eyes waggle in accompaniment and Bokuto feels his cheeks start to ache from the intensity of his smile. 

“We’ll bring extra tissues!”

Flustered to the core, Bokuto dips his head in abnormal shyness— the likes of which have the entirety of his friend group leaning forward in curiosity, their own interested smiles painted on their faces.

Fascinating as it may be to see the loud and boisterous wing spiker reduced to flushed cheeks at the mention of marriage, it doesn’t take much to figure out why; Even if they didn’t know him as well as they did, it was more than clear as to the reason when Bokuto’s own gaze tries to covertly dart to the side. That of which they all notice and blatantly follow. 

Stood beside the table of the bride, there you stood in all of your sheer elegance laughing with a number of the bridesmaids, blissfully unaware of a loving gaze that was drawn much too heavily to your turned figure. Focused on the way your dress shimmers in the dim lighting and the way you speak amongst the other guests, Bokuto feels locked in the trace of your magnanimous presence. Shyness dissipating quickly and replaced with the overwhelming flutter in his stomach.

And, not for the first time this night, he wonders briefly what it would be like if it were you walking down the aisle; If instead of the sheer, shimmery dress that adorned you beautifully, you were wearing a white one.

As he watched with exuberant joy as one of his closest friends married the one he loved, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if this were his wedding. If it were you walking down the aisle to the ethereal orchestra with your closest friends and family in attendance, all watching with eager rapture at your astounding beauty as he surely would be. But none of them, not a single one of them could ever compare to the intensity of his own stupefied gaze.

He’s imagined the scenario too often, felt tears prick the corner of his eyes every time, and he grows more excited each time he’s fantasized. But nothing gives him more butterflies than the thought of interlocking his hand with yours, placing his ring of eternal promise on your third finger, and avidly vow forever with you.

It’s not like he needs a wedding to promise that; He sees his future every time he looks at you—even if you have your back turned to him and are chatting away unsuspectingly with the fellow attendees.

 But a wedding would be nice, he thinks.

“That’s if he can get married,” Atsumu mutters into his glass cup and takes a long drink of his whiskey.

Bokuto, interrupted from his loving stare at the back of your head, snaps his own head to the blond with the speed to break necks. Eyebrows furrowed, fantasy ruined, and full offense coating his syllables, he exclaims, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, Atsumu leans one elbow on the surface of the bar counter and swirls his drink around, “Ya keep sayin’ yer gonna do it, but how long’s it been? Seven, eight months? If you haven’t done it yet, yer not ever gonna.”

A quick flash of sternness settles into the eyes of their captain, his arm still wrapped around the shoulders of the slowly deflating wing spiker. “He’ll do it when he’s ready, Atsumu. There’s no need to rush something like that.”

Rolling his eyes, Sakusa chimes in from across the three men. Pointing his stare at Koutarou, who resembles a kicked puppy at this point, he sighs. Not one to expel too much effort in emotional comfort, he decides this one is worthy of some kind of attempt. Albeit a minimal one. 

 “Don’t listen to this idiot, Koutarou.”

“‘m jus’ sayin’. She won’t wait for long, man,” Atsumu shrugs his shoulders again, eyes flitting to his right. Out of the corner, Koutarou deflates even more— shoulders slumped and the corners of his mouth downturned noticeably. He huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose.

Step one, complete.

“Since when were you such an expert in what women want?” Sakusa snorts.

“I have experience, thank you very much!” 

“That’s hard to believe.”

Sticking his tongue out at Sakusa, he pointedly ignores the insult to his knowledge of the feminine desires and turns his attention to the subject matter at hand.

Atsumu knows what women, having dated quite a few in his years. More specifically, he knew what you want, considering one drunk evening you had wondered aloud— quite heartachingly in your alcoholic daze, he might add— if the boisterous wing spiker even wanted to marry you. Bokuto, in your words verbatim—

“He just always gets fidgety when I bring it up and I jus’ dunno if he even likes me anymore cause yesterday, he said that my dinner was just ‘okay’ when he always says that he really loves it. Do you know how that made me feel? How could he even want to marry me when I make just ‘okay’ food? Do you know how much he eats? How can he survive!”

And as the ever so loyal friend that Atsumu considers himself to be, who is never one to ever meddle in the business of others, decided it was only right of him to solve this slight problem himself.

By taunting Bokuto, of course. 

If only to make him take matters into his own hands and finally do what everyone has been waiting for. What he knew the poor man has been dying to do forever, considering he never shuts up about you.

And also, to finally have you stop drunk texting him, no matter how endearing he may find them to be.

“So,” Atsumu sings once more, ignoring the look of exasperation on Meian’s face and instead, zoning in on the face of despair before him, “what are ya waiting for?”

In his stupefied stare at the blond beside him, Bokuto finds his gaze once more being drawn back to your turned figure that stands right in his line of sight. Wearing that pretty dress that you face timed him to get his opinion on, smelling of sweet lavender and jasmine— his favorite perfume of yours— and the lip gloss that you begged him not to mess up. He didn’t listen, and truthfully, you hardly minded all that much.

What is he waiting for? He knows what he wants, so why hasn’t he done it yet?

What if you’re growing tired of how long he’s been waiting? What if you’re unhappy that your relationship hasn’t progressed to the next stage? Oh god, what if--

His mouth opens then closes, then opens once again, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “I… I don’t know.”

“Do ya want to marry her?”

Bokuto nods eagerly, as though through the action alone he could dispel of any lingering doubt that ever had the audacity to pervade his thoughts, “Of course! I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

“Ya think she’s gonna say ‘no’?”

Looking at his two other teammates, who each have their own curiosities piqued at the line of questioning, he shakes his head with finality.

“No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Then ya just need a push!” Placing his drink on the counter, Atsumu slaps his hand on the man’s shoulder, “How about this: If yer girl catches the bouquet, ya rip the band-aid and ya ask her—”

Stepping in once more, Meian chimes, “Don’t push him to do something he’s not ready for—”

“I ain’t pushin’! He’s got the ring already, right?”

“You do?” All eyes fall onto Bokuto, who stares with widened innocent stare at each of them. He quickly shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out his fist to reveal a velvet box in his hand. 

“I’ve been carrying it with me every day for the past six months. I just didn’t know if I should do it.”

Three pairs of eyes stare blankly at the man before them. Sharing a quick look at one another, the message is translated seamlessly between each of them and voiced eloquently by Meian himself. Ever the efficient captain.

“Holy shit.”

“My friend,” Atsumu laughs, squeezing his hand on the broad shoulder of his closest friend. His smile, innocent enough to the passing gaze, holds that twinge of mischief that Bokuto has come to know rather intimately; A taunting smile that has been directed his way one too many times that usually never ends well.

“I dare ya to propose to yer girl if she catches that bouquet. If yer really a man, that is.”

Bokuto’s eye twitches, his features narrowed at the utterance of the dare, and that’s how Atsumu knows he’s got him in the bag. It has his own smile widening even further, as Bokuto’s face scrunches in suspicion, knowing full well that he could never resist a dare.

With the single word alone, long gone is the hesitancy and doubt that plagued the man just a moment before, and instead stands a man tall in his ushering of competition. A man who thrives off the challenge, especially wherever his teammate presented one. It’s almost startling how quickly he sheds his mopey behavior and embraces his natural presence, which overwhelms and overpowers everyone around them. 

Step two, done.

“And if she doesn’t?” Bokuto asks, smugness filtering his words as he entertains the notion— silently accepts the provocation laid before him and drastically alters himself in order to successfully combat it. 

In order to win.

Spotting the glint of devilry that grows in strength in the narrowing of Bokuto’s eyes, Atsumu smirks and meets it with one of his own. He’s got him, hook, line, and sinker.

“Ya break up.”

Bokuto reels backward physically, shaken from the competitive trance and staring at the man in grotesque shock. The kind that almost borders anger and offense. Huffing a breath through his nose, he takes a step forward, away from the present comfort of Meian and almost in accusation.

“Are you trying to ruin my life, blondie? You trying to go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?”

Atsumu laughs, holding his hands up in defense, “I’m tryna get ya married, big guy!” Shoving his hands into his pockets, hardly phased by the proximity in which the large man has entrenched onto his space, he shrugs once more, “That is… if yer man enough to take it.”

“Deal,” Bokuto says without hesitation, both incredibly and not at all to the surprise of the other two men who have been silently watching from the sidelines. Like a sudden reset, the tension that resided stiffly in the shoulders of Bokuto rescinds, and replaced is the confident, joyous man. 

A man who looks as though he’s won easy money and then some. 

Smiling widely, Bokuto turns in his place and begins a bold strut away from his friends. In the direction of his beloved, “Excuuuse me, gentlemen. I’m going to go teach my lady how to catch a bouquet.”

Meian and Kiyoomi step to the side, allowing enough space for Bokuto to walk through with the hint of laughter in their small smiles. 

Spinning on his heel and pointing his thumb at his chest, Bokuto exclaims proudly, “This time tomorrow, I will be a married man!”

“One wedding at a time, Kou.” Meian laughs at the retreating man, who is beaming from head to toe.

“Better train ‘er good, big guy! Or else I might be the next one to propose to her!” Atsumu calls out as Bokuto gets closer and closer towards your turned figure.

“I’ll kill you!” He calls back, hearing the echoing laughter diminish as he finally steps beside you.

Turning from the conversation with one of the bridesmaids to the new presence, you shine beautifully upon recognizing who it is, and Bokuto feels his resolve grow almost stronger.

“Hi baby,” You coo, instinctually placing your hand into his and leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek when he quickly presents it to you, “Did you have fun with the boys?”

Wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, he places his own kiss on your cheek, humming against the surface of the skin yet making no move to part from you. “Mhmm. Just missed you.”

You laugh, rubbing your hand on his arm, “You were only gone for a couple minutes, Kou.”

Trailing his lips downward, he nuzzles himself into your neck, inhaling deeply. Lavender and jasmine. His favorite scent.

The one he wants to smell for the rest of his life.

“Ten minutes is too long.”

If possible, he manages to pull you even tighter against him. Two strong arms wrapping around you, pulling your chest into his and squeezing you tightly. Lovingly and entirely too comforting. Home.

You return the embrace eagerly, holding him to you equally as tight, “You’re right. It was starting to get boring without you.”

His hand, warm and large against the small of your back, rubs the surface up and down before he pulls back slightly, if only to look at your face in its entirety and the lip gloss you have unfortunately reapplied.

“You’re gonna do the bouquet toss, right?”

You raise an eyebrow, “I usually do. Why?”

He glances to the side, avoiding your inquiring stare. He raises a hand from your waist, rubbing the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile, “Maybe we should go outside, and I can throw a couple of rocks at you. Just to practice your catching skills.”

“Kou— “

“Can’t have anyone disrespecting you on the floor, can we? We gotta let everyone know you’re a winner! Cause you’re my girl, and whoever disrespects you, disrespects me! You know? So, you better catch that fucking bouquet. I mean, our relationship is on the line, here!”

“Koutarou—” From the tone in which you say his name, he knows he’s not making any sense. You’re confused, incredibly so, and he can’t blame you. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, only that he has a goal, and he has to make you see it without revealing himself entirely.

 “I mean, only if you want to. It just… means a lot to me, and I want you to say yes, because I love you. And if you win, I win in a lot of ways. And I want to win with you, for the rest of our lives.”

Realizing almost entirely too late that he was talking with duplicity that you have most certainly caught on towards, he decides there is a good place to stop talking entirely. Oh god, he’s such an idiot. What was he thinking? He can never hide anything from you!

If you couldn’t tell from the way he was talking in metaphors, you could most definitely see it from the way in which sweat beads at the top of his forehead.

Your eyes flicker from each of his, your warm palms cupping the sides of his face as you watch him with concern.

“Baby,” You breathe out, voice steady and calm as you watch his resolve slowly crack under your watchful stare, “Did you want to talk to me about something?”

He tried desperately to remind himself that he has a mission to accomplish, that there was a dare that Atsumu had challenged him to that he must complete—but it’s you. You’re the trump card, the weakness in his defense, his priority above all else. He could never hide anything from you because you would catch him in a quick minute. And truthfully, he doesn’t want to hide anything from you.

It was easy to hide the ring under the guise of waiting for the perfect time, a mental barrier that he could excuse as a good cause behind his hesitancy, but now that he’s accepted a dare that is forcing him to put his desires to immediate use, he can hardly wait for the bouquet toss to arrive.

He’s got to do it now. The time is right, it will never be more perfect. You look beautiful, you’re held tightly in his arms, and he’s never been more convinced of the fact that he loves you. Why has he even waited this long?

He has to do it—Atsumu be damned.

“Marry me.” 

**

Extra:

“You really think she’s going to catch it?” Meian asks Atsumu, as they both watch from afar the way Bokuto wraps himself around your body, nuzzling unabashedly into you.

Atsumu scoffs, “Hell no. Girl can’t catch fer shit.”

Furrowing his brows, Meian stares at the blond with intense confusion, “Then why did you—”

“Just had to plant the idea in his head. He’ll do it soon, jus’ give it a minute.”

The two watch you both silently, noticing the way in which Bokuto pulls away from you and starts to speak rapidly. Neither of them can hear what he’s saying, but they can see his lips moving. More importantly, can see the way in which you stare in perplexion.

Then finally, his lips stop moving and your hands cup his face. The setter and captain feel their breaths hitch and they both lean forward if only to see if they can read the wing spiker’s lips from where they stand.

They can. And from the way you respond with a laugh and an eager kiss, they know it worked.

Looking to Meian, Atsumu raises his brow with a smile, “Told ya!”

end note: to everyone who sent a request, it is on it’s way! i just don’t know the definition of a drabble and instead make 3k long fics, so that’s fun. 

[blackcatclawsout]

Majima x Reader- Shopping with Mama and Papa

"How long d'ya expect me to carry around this thing for?" Majima huffed.

"Just a minute longer, I swear! I forgot bandaids!" Y/N promised, making her way to the needed aisle.

She felt bad enough, making him carry the 9 kg bag of rice, despite his insistence, but to make him wait longer because of her forgetfulness made her hurry. She lightly jogged to the pharmacy area, slowing as she reached the aisles. She carefully began to stalk up and down the aisles, assessing the shelves for the bandaids. She only got a few aisles in before she was stopped by a sudden weight on her leg.

"Okaa-san!" A small boy chirped, burying his face in the fabric of her pants.

She hesitated. Clearly, this wasn't her child. Her head quickly swivelled in search of the correct mother, but no other woman was apparent. The little boy looked up, smiling. As soon as he locked eyes on her, the smile fell immediately.

Y/N prided herself on being a quick thinker and fairly level headed in situations such as these, but throwing children into the mix threw her off-kilter.

"H-hello... Are you looking for someone?" She hesitated, trying to smile.

She was met with widened eyes, teetering between fright and shock. Carefully, the little boy was plucked from her leg to stand on his own. She knelt to his eye level, repeating herself carefully.

"Are you looking for someone?"

"I can understand you!" His face lit up, clearly amazed by this foreign woman. Y/N smiled, charmed by his zeal.

"I hope so! What's your name?"

The boy rocked on his heels, "I'm Daiki! Whatta 'bout you?" he beamed cutely.

"Y/N; are you looking for someone?" She pressed politely. The boy's smile faltered, suddenly looking about.

"I lost my mom... I don't know where she is." Daiki trailed off quietly, looking distant.

The white noise of the store became more apparent to Y/N; The announcer over the store's intercom, the beeping of cashiers, idle chatter of shoppers. The stimulus would be a lot for anyone, let alone a child. She turned her head to look around. The department store sure did look big from this angle... Not everyone in Kamurocho was kind to others, even during the day. It didn't help ease her mind that it was already 4:30, meaning the hooligans of the evening would soon be making their way onto the street. She stood up defiantly. In clear conscious, she could not leave this child alone in the store.

"Why don't we find your mom together, Daiki-chan?" Y/N extended her open hand to the boy, smiling kindly. He looked up, smile perking up his body once again.

"Okay, Y/N-chan!" He took her hand.

The pair began trudging up and down the aisles, stopping at the sight of every woman. Slowly they migrated to other areas of the store, leaving the pharmacy area. The pair began to swing their arms while they walked, with Y/N enjoying the young boy. He chatted about his class, his favourite subject, and what it was like at home. He rattled off what he had done so far today, and to Y/N's own surprise, she was interested in what he had to share.

Having children had never really crossed her mind and wasn't a conversation Majima and her ever had. A wave of shock washed over her; she had forgotten all about him! A glance at her watched told her she had taken way too long. A rough voice cut through her worry immediately.

"Hey, where the hell ya been?"

Y/N whipped her head around, eyes landing on her lover.

The expression on his face read somewhere between annoyance and concern, Majima's steel grey eye surveyed her. His brow arched, head tilting to the side.

Daiki peered around her side, glancing at Majima, owlish eyes darting over his body. Of all days for Majima to not be wearing his snakeskin jacket, she thanked god today was one of them.

The young boy glanced cautiously up at his caretaker, "Um, do you know him, Y/N-chan?" Daiki chirped curiously, looking back to the older man.

"Oh, y-yeah. This is my boyfriend, Majima-kun." She flushed, glancing apologetically towards her partner. Without warning, Daiki flung himself to the yakuza.

"You can help me find my mama too!" He took Majima's free hand and led him over to Y/N. The child grabbed her hand and began to swing the arms of the two adults, "It's like when I go shopping with Mama and Papa!" He giggled.

Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck to her face. Her cheeks burned with a giddy feeling.

Me, like a mama?

She glanced up at her lover to gauge his reaction. Majima's eye was wide, a blush spread across his face as well, an ecstatic look written across his face. Their eyes met and the heat increased. Y/N tore her gaze away, feeling dizzy from the sudden thrill of it all.

"Sure, kid. We should probably get a move on, huh..." Majima grumbled, gaze landing elsewhere.

Daiki led the adults up and down the aisles, the three keeping their eyes peeled. Goro and Y/N began to relax after a minute, leading the small boy through the grocery store. Y/N giggled as Daiki pulled the two of them along, making faces at Majima. She laughed even harder when her one-eyed lover returned the silly face, sticking out his tongue and rolling his eye. She enjoyed this feeling. The light, warm feeling she felt in her stomach began to over-flow her body. Seeing Goro in any domestic situation always made her a little joyful, but this was a new sentiment. Seeing him like this as well; god! It was amazing. Y/N felt like it was a rare moment to see what he was like before the Yakuza. She walked to the end of the aisle, tittering to herself when she ran into a woman. She turned to apologize, meeting a panicked face.

"Excuse me, have you seen a young boy around here?" Her head bobbed around, scouting for her target. Y/N's face fell for a second, before forcing a smile.

"You must be Daiki's mother. We were just looking for you." She turned around to the duo behind her, watching them mess around.

Smiling sadly, she called out to the child.

"Mama!" Daiki exclaimed, rushing to her side.

Y/N watched on as the pair reunited, his mother fluffing his hair and checking him over. Once she appeared satisfied, they turned to leave with Daiki waving before they eventually wormed their way into the crowd of shoppers.

A pinch on the ass brought her out of her haze, brows furrowed at her mate who now cheekily grinned. She huffed before, returning her gaze to where the pair had disappeared. They watched together in silence for a short while, steady breathing between the two of them. For a tangible moment, Y/N could feel the mundane return. It wasn't necessarily sad, more dismaying.

"Cute kid, ain't he?" Majima sighed.

She glanced to look at him. Despite being on the side where his eyepatch was, she could still make out his lightly furrowed brows and tight lips. She understood the look he gave was that of when he was seriously contemplating.

He had mentioned once, when he was rather drunk after a night out with his boys, that he could have been a father once. It had caught her off guard at the time, as she was about to settle into bed again. Y/N silently turned back to him. His back was facing her; the oni mask boring into her, like a second set of eyes for him. She remembered crawling to him, finding tears silently falling from his face. He muttered something about his ex-wife and how it could have never worked out anyway, all the while she cradled him close, absorbing his quiet sobs. When they woke up the next morning, he either didn't seem to remember or didn't wish to bring up what had happened, so she never pressed.

Quietly, she slipped her hand into his, meeting the warmth of his flesh against hers. She enjoyed touching his bare hands, rubbing the back with her thumb, messaging the strong muscles that were sheathed underneath. Feeling the lightly calloused palms of her lover. He squeezed her hand in return, receiving her silent message. After another minute of silence, he sighed loudly, turning back to her.

"Hey, whaddya say we head outta here, eh?" he smiled softly, Kansai accent laid on thick. "I already paid for our shit, so no worries."

They walked side by side quietly, the evening sun hitting their faces as they stepped out of the store.

Clouds above were illuminated with the orange glow of the sunset, streaked with the pale blue of the exposed sky. The street lights began to click on, giving a faint glow to the shaded streets. The smell of wet pavement, beer, and grilled meat wafted throughout the air, drawing in the evening crowd. The usual bustle of Kamurocho began to settle in, causing strangers to bump into one another. The couple slipped into the forming traffic of the street, becoming ordinary in the dinner-rush. They slipped to a smaller alley, one they typically took to and from the apartment. The pervasive smell of wet stone mixed with damp tobacco filled their senses, darting through the dim walkway.

In a second of clarity, Y/N let go of Majima's hand, a frown settling to her face. He stopped and swivelled, examining her face.

"'Ey, what's bugging ya?" He asked, nonchalantly.

Events played in her head and her scowled deepened. He took a step forward, toughing her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Goro pressed, his voice quietening.

She met his gaze, scowl remaining on her face.

"I fucking forgot the bandaids."

[ura-writes]

Trampolinist - Part Two

Part summary: You encounter a few strange teenagers, discover blown-up ruins, and find out about who caused them.

Warnings: mild anxiety, thoughts of murder, blood, threats, lots of swears

A/N - I got a good few requests asking for a taglist for Trampolinist, so here it is! Just ask and you shall be added!

@lemonmochitea

@dad-ee-drea

@victoria-a567

Also, this is non-canon compliant, but only by a bit. I may change a few small details.

Hope y’all enjoy!

(Also, if you can find the movie reference I put in here, then kudos to you!)

——

A lingering curiosity sits in the back of your head for the rest of the week, not quelled by any amount of Bedwars or Skywars, which leave you exhausted in the evenings.

Even your dreams hold inquisitiveness.

How lovely.

Eventually you have to go back to your home world to check on your animals, repair your tools and the like. It’s tedious work, but nothing you can’t handle.

Boredom eventually sets in.

It’s unnerving. You never get bored of combat, of competition between your fellow players and teammates, but here you are, eyeing the list of servers on your grid.

Only two people are on the server at the moment, their names not available for whatever reason. You’d prefer to pop on when there were no people online, mostly to scope out the server, but you’ll take only having to deal with two people.

Hopefully they’re adults and not kids that recently learned to use portals.

You stick your pointer finger out, curl it like you’re dragging it down a wall; a ripple starts where your finger lands, slowly following its path downwards. It rips a hole through the fabric of woven servers, creating a direct link to the Dream SMP. You just hope that no one attempts to close the portal, as opening one in the first place takes a good deal of energy and effort.

A sight of spruce trees and misplaced dirt greets your vision through the rip in reality.

An odd spawnpoint, but whatever. You’re not one to judge.

In the corner of your eye, where chat normally sits, a message pops up.

TommyInnit: who the fcuck

TommyInnit: what

TommyInnit: NEWY PERFHSAON

Ranboo: ah yes, perfhsaon

TommyInnit: shut the fuck n up

You chuckle at the messages rapidly crowding the chat, watching them fade idly while trying to find a way out of the really weird spawnpoint, which is, for some reason, walled off by a combination of dirt, wood and stone haphazardly placed down, as if in a hurry.

Your efforts do not go unrewarded as you spot a section of the wall that sits lower than the rest, low enough to climb over if you try hard enough.

Perfect.

Feet hit the ground rapidly as you get a running start towards the wall, scrambling upward after you jump. You fall almost immediately off the other side.

“Ouch.”

“That looked like that hurt.”

You glance upward to meet heterochromic eyes, red and green contrasting with the curious face split in half by its black and white sides. A tail flicks behind the person as their crown slips a bit down their head.

“Wh—the fuck?”

The figure laughs at your reaction, offering a gloved hand out to help you off the ground. Hesitantly, you accept, being pulled up easily, and that’s when you realize that he’s a lot taller than you thought.

“Jesus, you’re tall,” you comment idly, brushing yourself off. “Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem. I’m Ranboo.”

You introduce yourself with your tag, which elicits a hum of recognition from him, much to your pleasant shock and surprise.

“You’re the person that Dream invited, aren’t you?”

“In the flesh.”

He laughs at your quip at him, smiling with sharp fangs exposed to the midday sunlight. No point in judging a person on their (potentially, anyway) monstrous features.

“Well, you probably need a tour—“

He’s quickly interrupted by a loud “hey!”

“Oh great,” you mutter, crossing your arms. Ranboo looks a bit sheepish at your cocked eyebrow and slightly irritated expression, scratching his bi-colored hair.

“That’s Tommy. He’s uh… well, Tommy.”

A teenager wearing a red and white shirt and jeans with battered sneakers comes sprinting out of the nearby forest, coming to a halt just in front of you.

“New person!”

“Yeah, and what are you, the gremlin that got fed after midnight?”

The kid sputters out a few protests against being called a gremlin, sprinkling a good few swears in his jumbled sentences that mostly consist of rambles.

When Tommy gets his bearings, he eyes your tag, squinting at it suspiciously before his eyes widen in recognition.

“You’re the bastard that beat the shit out of me in Bedwars! Get ove’ here—“

One of Ranboo’s arms shoots out to grab the lanky teenager with ease to stop his potential assault on you. You just brush your nails off on your shirt.

“Oi! Lemme a’em!”

“No, Tommy, remember what Tubbo said?” Ranboo lectures, tail flicking in annoyance, eyes trained on him. “Remember?”

“You’re one to talk about rememberin’.”

Ranboo cocks an eyebrow.

“No punchin’ people we don’t know unless they’ve hurt us…” Tommy grumbles. “Can ya lemme go now?”

Ranboo agrees, letting go of his shirt and summoning a journal and quill to write something down in, muttering that he’s almost out of ink.

“Anyway, how about that tour now?”

You smile at him.

Maybe you’ll like this place.

——

“...and this is L’Manburg… or what’s left of it, anyway. It’s still being rebuilt.”

“How’d it get destroyed?” you ask him. “It takes a lot of TNT, Withers and dedication to destroy a city this big.”

I should know.

Tommy eyes Ranboo.

“Hey, it’s your city. I’m not explaining it,” Ranboo defends against the wordless accusation. Tommy exhales with a groan and begins his explanation.

“Wil-Wilbur, my brother, went a bit insane a few months back, blew it all up with Technoblade’s help. Wil’s… well, he’s dead.” Tommy sounds indifferent about the death, much to your surprise.

You nod absentmindedly, setting your eyes on a slightly obscured poster that flaps in the wind. When you get close enough to pin it down it reads:

Wanted: Dead or Alive. High Treason, Inciting Violence, Unlawful Use of Explosives, Extreme Terrorism.

Reward: See Authorities

Below that is a well-painted picture of a man you somewhat recognize, wearing a red cape, a crown, full enchanted Netherite armor and carrying an axe that seems to shimmer in the light.

Technoblade. You’ve had a few run-ins with him playing Bedwars and Skywars, even teaming up with him a few times. He always seemed nice enough, and certainly a damn good sword fighter. He always knew when to run and when to stand and fight, when to attack and when to defend.

“What did he do?”

Ranboo starts to speak, but Tommy interrupts him.

“Blew the rest o’ this place up. Bastard ran after that.” Tommy all but spits the words out of his mouth, like they’re acid or venom. “Fookin’ coward.”

Well, I wouldn’t call ‘knowing when to run’ cowardice, but we’ll pretend I agree, child.

“No one knows where he is now,” Ranboo adds. “Except Phil, of course. But he’s pretty much silent about it. Won’t give up a word of information.”

Shouldn’t be that hard to find one man, you muse to yourself. Bet I could.

“Well, I’ll let you know if I find anything out,” you lie with a smile plastered on your lips. “Y’know, as a sort of gift to you as the newest member of the server.”

Hah, as if.

“We’ll hold you to that.”

You nod and say your goodbyes, walking towards the central nether portal while keeping an eye out for an ender chest so you can get some of your stuff. You know the admin will take your elytra away if it so much as comes into contact with the server’s air, so you decide not to risk it.

Spotting one, you make a small noise of triumph and dart over there, grabbing the shulker with your stuff in it, transferring it to your inventory with a practiced ease.

Armor adorns your figure, enchanted Netherite striking an imposing silhouette against the blackstone beneath your feet. You twirl your sword with a grin.

Now to find Technoblade.

——

Turns out, finding a piglin hybrid is not easy.

You scoured the Nether for any sign of him, any trace of fabric, of a broken pickaxe, hell even a piece of iron he may have held. The ability you hold as a Jumper not only allows you to jump servers, but also allows you to find people if you have something of theirs.

Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Nil. Absolutely jack shit.

How can one man be so difficult to track down?

Just as you’re about to give up, a barrage of curses at the tip of your tongue, a glint of iron catches your eye.

Odd.

Hopping over a cluster of Netherrack and scaring off a few baby Striders, you see a small circle of iron sitting in a pile of red dust, looking dented and beat up.

You huff and brush the dust off of it, titling your head to the side when it reveals itself.

A compass, pointing in one direction, working even in the Nether.

Standing up, you pocket it and head to the nearest portal, jumping through to the other side only to grab the compass out of your pocket as you walk to who-knows-where. It still points in the same direction as before, only moving when you do.

An irregularity in the metal against your hand inspires you to flip the compass over to look at the back.

What lies there makes you smirk.

Technoblade’s cabin. Phil’s compass.

This might be easier than you initially thought.

:)

[foxymoxynoona]

Ashtoreth

Ok, I had told Tae_ree on ao3 that I was inspired by her story Cam Girl back in the day to barf out a little cam girl story of my own, which I then immediately abandoned. I looked and I wrote this on July 20, 2020. It's not a full story arc or anything, just a little snippet I abandoned BUT I had forgotten that actually this was a stepping stone to writing Amended and Meadow, as you'll see from some themes I repurposed. I thought I'd share even though this isn't really a complete story because I think it can be interesting to see how inspiration and ideas morph over time into something completely different.

Content warnings for this: nsfw, 18+ , cam girl, voyeurism, masturbation, I don't actually know anything about cam girls and I didn't bother to learn since this was just a little writing exercise, so there ya go...

Tattoo Artist!JK x Camgirl!Reader

He didn’t watch much. Well, he watched plenty of porn, but Jungkook didn’t follow live camgirls because seeing the show live made him feel… awkward. Nervous. It felt so intimate, to have a girl talking live to the camera, to be able to type in the chat and have her notice your comment. It made it feel too much like a living, breathing person --not that he didn’t think women in porn were real! But… it was an image he was watching. Something a woman had cultivated, edited, decided to share. A live camgirl was performing in a different way and…

Well, he just felt guiltier watching camgirls. So he didn’t watch them much. Maybe he’d tune in if there was one on, and then he’d feel too ashamed of his own… earnestness. Live cam girls were a level of intimacy that… that was cruel. That he wanted. Camgirls reminded him too clearly of what he didn’t have in real life, and that made him feel ashamed and pathetic and broken. And so he’d leave almost as soon as he started watching and go find some safe, static porn.

But there was one. Ashtoreth. He couldn’t resist her. He was pathetic, weak for this woman, and wound up making an account --which he never did-- just so he could subscribe and get alerts whenever she scheduled a show. Even just the act of getting an alert made him stiffen, made the blood start to trickle south, because he knew what was coming.

He didn’t know what Ashtoreth’s face looked like. And she often wore colored wigs, so whatever he did see wasn't identifiable She had a pretty average body, neither the fit nor voluptuous extremes that tended to dominate the suggested videos. She had a somewhat soft belly and hips and thighs. She had those stripes on the inside of her thighs, too. And a beautiful tattoo along her hip that he desperately wanted to see in closer detail. Her tits weren’t huge, but soft and squeezable and real. Sometimes she presented herself bare to the camera, other times tidy, and sometimes fully grown out. She said she felt like it was a matter of principle to create videos with natural hair growth, even if she preferred to be better kept because she often got horny and juicy throughout the day and it was easier for her to keep clean. That had fucked Jungkook up for a little while. It didn’t help that she had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen, beautifully shaped and colored, and even just tuning in to see how much he’d be able to see was worth the effort. And he liked the idea that she had principles like that.

In fact, he liked all the things she talked about. She was very personable, in a way that was horribly endearing. She played video games, which had actually been what struck him first; that was how he’d found her, because he’d seen that a camgirl was playing Overwatch with a vibrating egg in, and so he’d tuned in, and she was good, and it meant the next time he’d played, it had made him too hard to concentrate, remembering the way she’d whined and moaned and cum just after she’d won her match. Fucking dream girl.

She took suggestions of things to do from high donors, within reason. He wasn’t the only one that liked when she got sort of passionate and fixated on something interesting she’d learned and wanted to share. She spoke several languages and alternated between them --English and Spanish. She claimed to speak more Korean, but never spoke that on her cams, and Jungkook was far too shy to ask her to. It would do him in, but it was also his fucking dream. Did she really speak Korean? It seemed so unusual for a foreigner.

So he liked the things she spoke about too, he liked when she shared her interests, even though it made him feel guiltier because he knew he was looking for the wrong sorts of connections in porn. A cam girl was just performing. It was possible everything she talked about was fake. She was trying to earn money, after all. It funded the toys she bought, the pretty lingerie. People funded those things, all the men and women who tuned in to watch her tease herself into a whining mess and then cum all over the sheets. She’d taught herself to squirt on camera, even giggling at how unreliable it was. She’d just started doing some anal and admitted it made her nervous. She was just so sweet and sexy at the same time, and it all fed into this horrible, horrible fixation Jungkook had that she was his dream girl, even though he knew it wasn’t true and it wasn’t real.

And then at the end of a live, she’d curled up on her side, flushed, panting a little, hand lazily stroking her hip, and said in Korean, “By the way, I thought I’d mention here because my stats say I have a lot of viewers from Asia, but I’m looking for a tattoo artist and it’s hard to find. So if anyone knows a good one in Korea, let me know!”

Jungkook came on his hand. He hunched forward, spluttering and frozen. It had ruined his good orgasm, the shock --he always had good orgasms when he jerked himself off to watching her. He particularly loved after she came, the way she lay there and giggled sort of breathily and talked about the random things that came to mind. But he had not expected her to speak Korean for the first time. And he had not expected her to ask for tattoo artist recommendations.

He froze. He stared at the screen, grunting a little as his cock twitched. Should he-- no. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. That would be stupid. And weird. And creepy. But like… what the fuck? Did she actually live in Korea?? Her profile didn’t give a location, but he’d always assumed the States since she spoke English primarily. Did… what… and she needed a tattoo artist…

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,” he grumbled, grabbing a tissue and wiping his hand off. He couldn’t say anything. He shouldn’t.

But if he didn’t, her other followers would, right? Why was she asking for recs? She was setting herself up for harassment! She couldn’t just ask people who watched her pleasure herself for IRL recommendations!

Frantic with a need to protect her, it was perhaps the only thing that could have led him to message her.

GKtat97: hello. Are you sure it’s a good idea to ask for suggestions here? You could get bad guys answering

Ashtoreth: hello. Are you saying you’re a bad guy? ;)

GKtat97: no! I’m very serious! Be safe! But if you need a place my friend does really good tattoos in seoul. I don’t know where you are looking but I didn’t know you were in Korea

Ashtoreth: oh really? Yes I have moved a few times but I’m currently in Korea. Does your friend work in a parlor somewhere?

GKtat97: yes. Byeolbit Tattoo downtown. Whole studio of great artists

Ashtoreth: awesome, thank you! Have you had work done there?

GKtat97: yeah

Ashtoreth: cool I will definitely take a look. Thank you for the recommendation! What’s your friend’s name?

GKtat97: anyone there is good but my friend is jjk. If you ask for him, he’ll hook you up

Ashtoreth: excellent, I’ll check out his portfolio on their website. Thanks babe :*

Fuck fuck fuck, what was he doing? If anything, he should have suggested her to one of his friends there. Because what if she actually did follow up? What if she made an appointment and came in for a tattoo by him and he got to touch her… fuck, that was entirely unprofessional. He couldn’t do it. Maybe if she knew he was the one watching her, then he wouldn’t feel so morally conflicted, but there was no way he could tell this woman to her face oh yeah, that was me messaging you, I watch you finger yourself to get off. Fuck.

Well. It was highly unlikely she’d be following up, anyway. He comforted himself with that. Probably a dozen guys were messaging her now, trying to get her business so they could tattoo her body.

Ugh. She’d called him babe. He groaned and felt his cock twitch in pleasure just at that reality. She’d called him babe, this faceless woman with the beautiful voice and body. Fuck.

**

As far as he could tell, no one unusual had reached out to the tattoo parlor, though it was hard to really guess what that would mean. He’d idly flipped through the appointment calendar but of course it wasn’t like she’d make an appointment under Ashtoreth. No one had requested him out of the ordinary. And she’d done a couple more lives in the past couple weeks, so he figured that meant she’d decided to go with someone else. Which hurt a bit, sure, but he was trying to be an adult about it. After all, it was for the best.

And then during lunch, Mina popped her head back and asked, “Hey, there’s a woman who came by to see if you can do a consult…”

“Is she in the schedule?” Jungkook asked.

Mina made a face but admitted, “No… but that’s my fault. I’ve been trying to get something scheduled for her for a couple weeks now and forgot to write it down-- I’m sorry!”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and teased, “Mina, it’s the whole point of your job to write it down…”

“I know. I feel so bad. I’ll buy your lunch tomorrow. Can you meet with her now?”

“Fine.”

He shoved one final bite of food into his mouth, then went to wash his hands and rinse his mouth out so he wouldn’t risk sauce or broccoli in his teeth for a consult. He was still hungry but maybe if this went quickly he’d have time to scarf down the rest of it.

He stepped out to the front area where a woman sat in one of the chairs, looking a little uncomfortable actually. He thought it must be her first tattoo and that she was nervous; he got a lot of young women in for their first tattoo, a little butterfly or hummingbird on their ankle or wrist. She stood when he approached and gave him a rather dubious smile.

“Are you Jeon Jungkook?” she asked. In Korean, which was unusual but not unheard of for a foreigner. A young woman had probably come here to teach or something and learned the language, but she had a good grasp of it.

“Yes. Hello.”

“I’m Y/N,” she answered, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you. Sorry about the mix up--”

“It’s my fault!” Mina sighed dramatically.

“I’m sorry I’m interrupting your lunch. Should I come back another day?”

“No, it’s fine. What are you looking for?”

“Well, I um, I need one covered up and I was hoping to get something custom to cover it. I saw your portfolio and it looks like you’ve done that kind of thing before.”

He nodded, “Yeah, it’s not a problem. Do you have ideas?”

“Yeah… but I’m also kind of open… I’m not an artist, so…”

“Can you show me what you’re wanting covered up?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“We can step back here,” Jungkook offered when she seemed a little shy. She followed him back to one of the pods and leaned her hip against the table as if for strength, then lifted her shirt to show him a man’s name scrawled across her ribs.

“Is it ok if I examine it?” he asked her. She nodded and he sat on a stool to lean in close and look. It was not well done; if it was the man’s copied signature, he had an ugly hand, but the tattoos itself was also uneven, too shallow in some places, too deep in others. However the scratchy and loopiness of it would be pretty easy to design a pattern over.

“I can see by your face it’s ugly. I know. It was… complicated,” she admitted. “I keep it covered with make up usually but I want it gone.”

“That’s easy to cover,” he assured her. “What do you want over it?”

“Well, I thought-- I have this tattoo,” she told him, lifting the other side of her shirt to expose the flower design crawling out of the waistband of her pants over her hip.

Jungkook froze. She was talking but he didn’t hear anything she said because he knew that tattoo. This was Ashtoreth. He looked up at her face, frozen with shock. This was Ashtoreth’s face. How had he not recognized her voice? But she was speaking Korean and he’d only heard her speak it that once and he hadn’t expected this

“Will that work?” she asked.

“Sorry… could you repeat?” Fuck.

“If it can match this?” she asked him. “Except adding in some violets.”

“Oh. Yes. That’s not a problem,” he assured her. “Um, how big are you thinking?”

She motioned with her hands, then asked, “Am I going to die? I know rib tattoos are supposed to be pretty bad… But I’ve had a baby and I got this thing so I’m not a total baby…”

“You have a kid?” he repeated, then immediately cursed himself. Why did that matter? But it was a real thing about her and it was not what he’d expected.

“Um, yeah. Do you have kids?”

“No,” he said simply. And then because apparently he couldn’t stop himself, he pointed, “I guess he wasn’t a very good father, huh?”

She gave him a small laugh and a crooked grin that made his heart actually flutter and agreed, “No, he wasn’t. But I did get something good out of it, so that’s what I want to cover his name with.”

“Flowers?”

“Violets. My daughter with him is called Violet.”

“Ah. That’s… sweet.” He looked away from her, sliding over to the counter to get his camera. “Can I take a picture? I’ll draw a design and you can leave your email with Mina. Once we get that, we’ll make an appointment.”

“Ok. Yes.” She turned to the side and held her shirt steady for him to take a picture of the names, a couple so he’d be able to recreate it flat.

“Mind if I get one of that too, so I can remember it?”

“Do you want the whole thing?”

“No, just the top is fine, if this has all the style elements you want.” So turned and posed for him to get this second one, and he tried to ignore that he was sweating a little to now have personal photos of Ashtoreth. This wasn’t ok. It wasn’t ok. It was unethical. It was ok for him to tattoo her if she knew he knew, but otherwise it was unethical, right?

But he didn’t tell her. Because he was stupid and struck a little dumb by her. He couldn’t comprehend that he was seeing her in person right now, that he was seeing the tattoo up close that had factored into how many of his solo sessions now? And this other tattoo, that never showed in her videos! He knew something now none of her other viewers did.

She thanked him for his time and he promised to get her a sketch within a week and then she left. The whole exchange had been so… normal, compared to how he might have envisioned it.

She hadn’t been anything like he’d expected, but maybe that wasn’t fair. He tuned into her next live after debating it, but he couldn’t bring himself to miss it. He wanted to see if he could see traces of her bad tattoo, but she did a good job of hiding it.

Anyway, why should he be surprised that she had been polite and sweet and a little shy? Because he didn’t expert a camgirl to be those things in real life? But that came through in her cams and it was one of the things that had even initially drawn him to her channel.

It was different now though. She slid her fingers down her panties and he knew what her face looked like. She pressed her fingers into her wet hole and he knew she’d had a child. He knew her real hair color and her real eye color and the sound of her voice in person. Soon he would spend hours hunched over her body, etching something permanent into her skin that would hopefully please her, that all her viewers would see on her. How would she unveil it? Would she give him credit? She’d already been very excited about the design he’d emailed her.

[sleeping-lilies]

Title: I Get Tim a Cat Because It’s What He Deserves (oh and i guess a group chat 🙄)

a batfam/wayne family groupchat would literally never happen in canon but it would be so fucking funny you all don’t even know, so i will do it anyways.

the chat just kinda... starts. no one know where it came from. who added them. who??? none of their emotionally stunted asses would be caught dead making making a family chat tf? why can’t any of them leave? they smash their phones and then on their laptop a notification pops up like “you’ve joined ‘x’ group” and they’re stuck there. might as well use it ig, but for what???

“everyone who is alive type ‘i’” no one responds so bruce spends hours trying to find out where their bodies are until he finds out everyone just had the chat on mute

“why isn’t alfred on here” “huh. alfred isn’t on here and no one knows who made the chat?” “so whoever made it just left immediately?” “...” “lol anyways”

tim was trying to send a snap to the core four gc but accidentally sent it to the family chat and gets super embarrassed (of course this happens when everyone’s online why wouldn’t they if it makes tim’s life more difficult) and everyone makes fun of him. duke printed out copies and plastered them all over tim’s apartment while tim was out for something and tim nearly murders duke. after that no one puts the chat on mute because this was too funny.

no one actually, like, texts on a regular basis because they’re not like other families 🙄 they only text if it’s really important or someone’s dying.

that’s being said, “dick where is dog” “send doggy” “dog?” “send doggy” “dick when did you get a dog?” “SEND DOGGY” “i demand you send the dog this instant” “dog now.”

damian breaks into dick’s apartment to take a selfie with him and haley (or bitewing, haley is just shorter to type) captioned “she is mine this is a warning to all of you. i will not hesitate if any of you low lives come near her.” and dick is like “??? this is my dog i can’t have anything these days, siblings take everything, man—” oh ya, everyone reacts to the haley photo with a heart. also dick only lets this shit slide with damian, if jason the problem child pulled this shit it would be on sight lmfaooo

- tim: the dog is cute but, but in photography i learned you have to crop out everything unimportant, like this *crops out damian from the photo*

- in other news, tim joined the dead bats club and now only bruce and duke are left 😃🔪

bruce: check in if you are alive. *everyone’s status is online*

u don’t know about y’all, but my bruce wayne is a responsible father who keeps an eye on his kids, or at least does his best, “has anyone seen duke? he has school and i can’t find him” “i will find him... if you give me $50.” “i will give you the money jason just tell me where he is” jason sends a photo of himself and duke laying down on the floor eating pop tarts.

-“literally why do you all keep coming into my apartment” “our apartment, dick” “i pay for this apartment it’s mine, i keep living in blüdhaven for a reason, god, siblings always steal everything that’s your’s—” it’s ok guys dick simultaneously has eldest daughter’s syndrome and absent sibling syndrome, who is doing it like him? legend behavior. anyways, duke and jason left crumbs on the floor and dick beat them up lmao.

“can i have money” “dad” (theyre sent by same person just different text) “yes cass i will sent you as much as you need, $2,000 is enough for shipping with friends?” “dad can i have money too” “dad can i too” “may i have some too dad” “dad” “dad” fhdjdjsks they only call him dad when they’re dying, want something, or are tattling on each other, someone save him 😩

“@everyone the interviewer in the last segment asked me if we have a family chat and i have a feeling they will try to pry into my texts to see what we are texting, please actually send something so they don’t get even more nosy from our lack of communicating” *someone sends the bee movie script*

ok but like, as time goes on they get more comfy texting each other and acting like a normal(ish) family unit that texts a little more. like tattling.

“someone broke the vase in the hallway and if they don’t want me to tell pennyworth who did it they will buy alfred the cat a new scratching post by nightfall” damian is so funny i love him

“HELPPVHRNXKAK” “what’s up with jason?” “cass is sitting on him” “lol” “i think she’s gonna break his arm fhdjdksk” “ANDBSJ I HAT E YO U A LL” “when did you all come to the manor???”

“😂” bruce vs “lol” dick and cass vs “agdhsjak” tim and duke vs “hA” jason vs “i don’t find any of you funny” damian

“damian i am putting your lemon cake pop thingies in the last bottom shelf on the right, i put the code and everything in the safe” “how often does damian even come to your apartment, dick?” “whenever you’re being an asshole bruce” “he’s always an asshole dickhead 🙄” “exactly 🥰”

“dad guess what” “TIM NOOO” “remember when” “TIM TIM TIM” “you told duke to take the day shift” “I WILL NEVER POST YOUR SNAP PHOTOS TO A GROUPCHAT WITH THE ENTIRE SUPERHERO COMMUNITY AGAIN!!!” “and he agreed to if he did his school work first?” “MERCY, MERCY” “what did he do, tim” “fjdjxkskkz duke goes on school zoom meetings during patrol and pretends he doesn’t have a mic and camera and i was watching his helmet footage and it was so funny, the teachers just believe him when he pretends to have really bad network and can barely type in the chat” “my teachers never trusted me that much” “that’s because you made a kid cry once jason stfu” “wait how did u know that cass—“

“AHDBSNZKAJHF” “stfu duke” “what’s wrong with him where is he?” “cain came to visit” “ohhhh” “FHDJFJDJ HELLPPPXSND” “i know you’re taking a video, you little shit, send it” “no todd come here and take one yourself—or don’t, your presence is unwanted” “fucking brat”

“DAD DICK HIT ME” “DAD JASON’S LYING” *bruce wayne online* (he doesn’t fucking respond fhsjskla) (is it because he’s exasperated with them or crying because they called him dad even though it’s a manipulation tactic or both we’ll never know)

“everyone who is alive, type in chat” *everyone is online* then bruce edits the message to say ‘everyone who wants alfred’s cinnamon rolls, type in chat’ “i guess NO ONE wants alfred’s cinnamon rolls, how sad” and the entire chat goes wild lmfao

ok uhhh let’s do on a scale of 1-10 texts most vs is online the most

bruce: 6-texting, 5.9-online because he always makes an effort to text his kids to check up on them and when his kids are texting he will text as well here and there in the convo to interact with them because he never sees and interacts with them normally and he wants to do better 🥲. he get’s minus 0.1 because of that one time jason and dick were fighting and he logged off agdhsjnz

dick: 3-texting, 3.5-online because he’s the only one in this hellhole of a family that has an actual job (in this house we uphold gymnastics teacher grayson 🙏) and sometimes he won’t have energy to text. so. but he does make an effort when he can. he’s online more than he texts because he’s able to sneak looks at the fights when he has downtime during his job and wants to see the drama lmfaooo. also everything goes on in his fucking apartment for some reason, so now he gotta break up a (one sided) fight between cass and tim because someone has to be a responsible adult.

cass: 2-texting, 10-online because she watches more than she texts? she’s more content to watch what’s going on than to join in. also 8/10 she’s usually the one causing the drama that everyone’s texting about, like beating up the others, so she can’t text while beating them up. i mean she could, but she wants to put more energy in beating them up (lovingly) (cass is basically violence (loving)) and watching what everyone’s saying about her fights. she’s always online to catch a glimpse at the drama. also most of her texts are to dick to see bitewing. and ask for money.

jason: texting-8, online-4 because if cass is the one causing drama offline, jason’s causing drama online. jason wants to be chat cryptic but texts the most lmfaoooo. he’s antagonizing his siblings whenever he sees them and whenever he can’t, king shit. he’s online less because he deadass doesn’t care that much, he’ll read the texts later if he really wants to, otherwise either duke or tim will fill him in on the drama. (“jason ur in the chat too—“ “shut up, tim, now tell me how cass beat damian’s ass)

tim: texting-6.44444, online-10, see tim texts a lot just not to the family group chat lmfao, he has REAL FRIENDS 😤 uhh ya, that’s why he’s online all the time, cuz he’s either texting his friends or on his phone doing some shit. broke: tim stays up late working on cases, woke: tim stays up late texting his friends and playing video games over chat. tim just. interacts with his family, gets bullied by them, ya. that’s the life. also he and duke keep throwing hands because it’s the family curse to beat up tim and in this essay i will discuss how dick is the superior sibling because he never tried to kill tim—wait he probably pushed him down the stairs once nvm but it was totally justified, king

duke: texting-4, online-4 because he has, like, school. and daytime patrol. and is like a junior in high school and therefore has a fuck ton of homework. my boy has no time for family and he doesn’t want it because they’re annoying, obviously 🙄. if he wants drama he’ll go into damian’s room and get the drama. diy icon. he’s online as much as he texts but is so fast of a reader he’ll know the drama in time for the next episode of wayne family shit. most of his time online is picking fights with tim and roasting his siblings to a crisp. he’s so mean, guys, legend has it that one time duke told jason that his helmet looked like a shriveled up dildo and that it could never be the gay statement he wanted it to be jason went offline for that entire day in order to cry himself to sleep. at least he got sleep (allegedly) ayyy duke the problem solver.

damian: texting-1.5, online 2 because the only time he’s texting is to ask dick for photos of bitewing and to send photos of his pets back as proper payment. a negotiator ugghhh father like son. damian honestly doesn’t care about the drama he just wants to sketch bitewing (using the photos dick sent as reference) into the Family Portrait Sketch™️ of the rest of the Animal Family™️. it is an honor for damian to create such a piece, picasso the women hater quakes in his grave as such art that blows his dog shit “art” FAR out of the water is developing. anyways, he goes online for that and to throw random barbs at his siblings. like no one is online and damian just throws a “drake is stupid” in chat and just dips. he’s online more to text the other teen titans and jon because they’re better than his dumbass family (and he texts grayson on messenger so fhdjdjsks) true chat cryptic, jason envies him

alfred: 0-texting, 10-online. huh who said that

“duke take down the tik toks, tim is crying”

“who has my sweatshirt??? i will kill you all” “i have it jason” “nvm cass that’s your sweatshirt now i’m sorry for being presumptuous don’t aTTACK ME” fhdjdjsks

“guys i have the day off do you want to hear when delilah said to jonathon it’s so funny” “are those the kids in your gymnastics class?” “ya” “tell us everything”

the bats just... love hearing drama about those kids because they’re so dramatic. apparently alex threw a rubber ball at maya and she tackled them. wild.

time for a round of: WHO SAID IT?!?!

“how do i make my text bold like the rest of you?” —bruce, dick, cass, and jason at some point.

“how do i change my screen name? please change it back to before” -cass when tim changed her name to “hal jordon #1 stan” (“what is a stan” —bruce), (“i don’t like it either change it back” —bruce after finding out what a stan is)

“what the fuck is a pog” —jason

“fucking ‘tik tok’. we used to use vine when i was a teen. i was a front line soldier of great disasters” —dick on one hand lmfao dick is so old but on the other hand holy shit you used vine??? tell us more about the battles fought

“what is a dilf?” —bruce after scrolling through twitter

ok that’s all, my brain is gone.

“cass dick is turning purple get off him” “no. make him give me my scarf back.” “oh dad that’s terrible can you send a video as evidence?”

“GUYS I FOUND A CAT AND IT SCRATCHED ME AND IM GOING TO THE HOSPITAL BUT GUYS!!! CAT!!!” “drake send a photo of the cat immediately” lmfao bruce zooms to the hospital after that text

“GUYS THE CAT HAS AN OWNER I CANT KEEP THE CAT 🥲” “the one time you could prove to be of use and you fail, drake.” “wow tim, find a cat to steal without an owner next time” “timmy, timmy, timmy, i can’t believe you’ve messed up in finding a cat again” “again?” “again?” “again?” “when i adopt a cat i’m not showing any of you, i hate you all” (lmao hard version of guess who is who i’ll give you a hint dick cass and bruce are the confused ones. )ok it’s not hard anymore.

“dad please get me a cat 😳🐱 haha jk 🤣😩 unless 👀😏😃🙏🥰” anyways tim named the cat starry because of her fur-hair-thingy

“they just so you all know steph just crashed in my apartment and i have work in the morning” “i will pick her up in the morning” “you mean tim will, you don’t have a license, cass. anyways”

“dick do you need help moving?” “no, bruce, i think i can handle it, donna and wally are helping me anyways, but thank you” “mOVING???” “OUT OF YOUR APARTMENT???” “DICK THAT SAME APARTMENT ON 666 HELLHOLE AVENUE???” “...ya?” “NOOOOO” anyways they all break into dick’s new apartment when he moves in, walk around it, and then leave. they just... ya... damn, these bats...

anyways that’s all. see ya.

[writing-gifts]

both sides of the viewfinder ch. 2

adult film star!bruno x afab!reader  (they are also gn)

18+ content

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

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A/N:  okay so this story is actually 4 chapters long now, the 2nd chapter was way longer than i would have liked (and taking too long to edit all at once) so i split it in half 

um ig that's it, there’s a cheating scenario porn being filmed this chapter, like its literally the beginning of this chapter so warning for that 

other than that i hope you like the chapter!

-----

You hold back the laugh in your chest and try your best to keep a relaxed face. But you didn't have great control when it came to stuff like this and realized quickly in life that you probably wouldn't make it as an actor. However the director still thought it was fine to put you in as an extra with speaking parts.

He said your acting didn't need to be believable or good just that you need to say the lines. That was objectively true--it was porn--but if you cracked a smile people would definitely notice.

You were playing the oblivious person having a conversation with your "best friend". And said friend was getting railed in the shower by your boyfriend who was being played by Bruno. Why you were trying to have a serious conversation while she was showering was completely lost on you. But it didn't have to make sense.

You stare at yourself in the mirror above the sinks. The way the restroom was set up had the shower and toilet in its own separate, little room. So it wasn't completely easy to tell what your friend was really up to.

"My boyfriend's been acting strange recently," you say. You try to sound down but come off more inconvenienced.

"What do you mean?"

The door to the shower room was open so you could hear your friend well even with the water running. So of course you notice her voice wobble at the end. You can't tell if she added that intentionally or if Bruno found a particularly good spot. You ignore it though since you weren't actually supposed to notice anything just yet.

"He doesn't seem very interested in me anymore? Like he doesn't want to have sex with me. And it's kinda weird since he always wanted to before!"

"Ah--!"

“Huh?” you reply, genuinely confused. That wasn't on the script but you knew pretending you didn't hear it would be worse.

“Ahhh, maybe something has been upsetting him recently?” she suggests.

"Oh...perhaps you're right." You move to pull out your phone from your pocket. "It's been bothering me so much so maybe I'll call him right now--"

"D-Don't stop!"

You turn towards the shower room. "What? Are you good? You sound like you're exercising in there."

"Yes yES--I'm good! Just hot in here…"

That sounded so real and it has you wondering what the hell Bruno's doing.

You pause for a split second too long and almost forget to say your next line. "Uh so you...don't want me to call him?"

"No, don't call him. You should s-speak to him in person!" Your friend seemed to finally get her voice under control.

"Oh! That's definitely a better idea." You put your phone away. "I think I'll head home now actually and wait for him. Thanks for hearing me out!"

With that you exit the bathroom set and breathe a sigh of relief. Now all that was left to do was wait for filming to finish and then you could head home for the day.

You join the crew and from where you're standing you can easily watch the two actors go. It was actually kind of nice to watch.

While you stare, Bruno seems to glance in your direction. You raise a brow, wondering why he looked over here and turn around to look behind you, but there's nothing of note there.

-----

"You're not going home yet?"

You turn in your chair. Bruno stands at the door watching you with crossed arms.

"Nope. I'm finishing this up for one of the editors--they weren't feeling well--and I don't want to take it home with me."

"I see," he says. He then walks in the room and pulls up a chair next to you which catches you off guard.

"You don't have to stick around! I'm probably gonna be here up until midnight."

"That's okay. I don't want to leave you here all alone. What are you editing anyways?"

"Well I'm working on one of your porns. The one you did last week."

Bruno leans forward, getting in your space, to see the screen.

"Ah, the one with Leone! That one was really nice, but I always enjoy working with him."

"Yea the two of you have great chemistry."

Abbacchio was a grumpy bitch but somehow the two of them got along pretty well. Bruno seemed to get along with most people easily though.

The man places his elbow on the desk and rests his head in his hand.

"So did you like it?"

"Like what?" you ask.

"The film."

The look in his eye was one that was quite familiar but why it was there, you weren't completely sure.

You feel your heart skip a beat. "I mean...I did."

Bruno smiles and you immediately feel yourself getting hot.

"What did you like about it? If you don't mind me asking."

A small smile comes to your lips. "W-Well you're in it, that's one. I like when I can tell the actors are genuinely having a good time. And both you and Abbacchio are attractive. Your m-moans were pretty nice too."

"They sound better when they come naturally hm?"

"Can't disagree with that!"

You turn your attention back to the screen. As much as you'd like entertaining Bruno you still need to get this done.

"You seem less reserved in person compared to when we message on Twitter."

"Really? It's usually the opposite for people…" you say.

"I know that's why I find it interesting." The man pauses for a moment before talking again. "Remember when you said you watched some of my work?"

You nod.

"For fun?"

You raise a brow but still answer. "I like to judge the camerawork, but sometimes I do for fun.”

Even though you were kind of over porn, there were the few times that you used it to help get off. And when you did you usually found yourself seeking out media involving Bruno.

Bruno lets out a laugh. "That's good to know."

You purse your lips at his smug expression. The man is definitely trying to mess with you. Of course you didn't mind some teasing but being the only one receiving wasn't your forte. Also you didn't want to be here all night.

"I need to finish this. You can stay but you can't keep distracting me like that..."

"Of course."

You look at him warily before getting back to work. Even though Bruno didn't really seem it, he definitely had a mischievous side.

The man watches the screen (and sometimes you), keeping you company with more innocent chat while you work. It actually makes time pass by faster.

You end up finishing earlier than you expect and thank Bruno for staying with you. The man offers to drive you home but you decline and take the bus instead.

The moment you're in your bedroom, your body hits the bed--no night routine or clothes change. You'd just have to deal with it in the morning.

It barely feels like you've been asleep before you hear your alarm go off. You grab your phone and shut it off.

Sighing, you risk closing your eyes for a few more seconds. You weren't ready to go back to work but after a minute you force yourself out of bed and stretch.

You head straight to the bathroom to start your day by brushing your teeth and multi-task with your phone--checking your work email and replying to any missed messages that you didn't get to last night. Other than that your morning starts off pretty uneventful.

While you're eating breakfast you get a message on Twitter.

Bruno: Morning.

You reply with your own good morning. The message surprised you but it was a pleasant one.

Bruno: How are you feeling? Not too tired I hope.

You: i'm okay now that i've had some coffee

You: how's your day going so far?

Bruno: The usual. I'm walking over to a restaurant nearby to get something to eat.

You: ooo sounds yummy 😋

You: what ya gonna get?

Bruno: I'm not sure yet but I'll send a picture when I do.

you: noo i'll be jealous, i'm literally eating cereal right now. but also please do send it

Bruno: I can bring you a to-go box if you want.

Your spoon stops halfway to your mouth.

You: i mean it's still good cereal so you don't have to

Bruno: It's fine. I like feeding people, at least that's how one of my friends phrased it!

You: well…..okay 👉👈

You: thanks ❤

Bruno: You're welcome.

Bruno: ❤

-----

"Off day today?" you ask.

Bruno drags his fingers through his hair and sighs. Other than that, he doesn't show any frustration.

"I planned for today to be short, then I could head home but as you can see it's not really going as planned. And all these lights…." He looks at you. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you're tired too."

"No, no it's okay. It’s totally my fault! We can take a break if you want?"

The studio had been dabbling with more amateur work lately so the director had left you and Jocelyn to handle this, and Jocelyn had decided it would be fine if you were on your own for this film. You weren't sure why you agreed since you had only been here about a month at this point and didn't feel completely comfortable. But you did and it was proving to be very nerve wracking. It affected your work and dragged this out longer than necessary.

“And honestly, I should probably take one too," you add.

Bruno agrees and you grab the man's robe and place it on his shoulders. While He slips back on his briefs you turn to the small crew.

“Guys lets take a 15 minute break.”

Everyone gives their okays and most of the crew leaves the room while a few check the equipment or their phones.

You tell Bruno where you're going and head outside to get some fresh air.

You try to use the time to relax but instead end up walking back and forth, worrying about the film and Bruno. The man was still able to act the part but you stopping and going so often was definitely affecting his performance. And you really didn't want him to have to act out every motion.

You stop walking and lean against the wall of the building. While waiting for the break to end you see someone approaching from the parking lot. The editor you helped before when they weren't feeling well.

You push yourself off the walls and meet them part way with a greeting.

"Hey Eli."

"What's up ____...You good? You look kinda stressed."

"I guess I am. Sorry for asking so suddenly but could you do me a favor?"

"What type of favor?"

"I'm supposed to film this amateur video of Bruno masturbating, and I've been having a hard time for some reason. I don't want to keep Bruno trapped here all day for something like this. But I don't know if my shots are usable...Do you think you can check for me?"

They hum in thought. “____ I'm going to be honest with you. It sounds like you're overthinking this. I mean, it’s called amateur for a reason. It doesn't need to be super high quality or “perfect” shots! That's probably why they let you direct it on your own."

At that moment everything clicked.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way though!"

"No, you're right. Thanks!"

You leave before they can respond and head back to the set room. On your way there, you go find a different camera. Something smaller and less complicated that will still capture good quality shots--perfect for what you were about to do.

When everyone returns from their break you have most of the lights brought down and let the whole crew go.

"Bruno I know you do videos on your own. So we're pretty much gonna do it like that now. Except that I'm here...uh.” You laugh. “You know what I mean."

Bruno smiles at the camera in a way you could only describe as cute.

"I understand. I’m ready to go whenever you are."

You nod and give the signal.

Right away, his light smile transforms into something more alluring. He leans back on the multiple soft pillows set against the headboard and lets out a relaxed sigh.

You give Bruno a moment to prepare himself and when you see the outline of his cock already hardening through his briefs, you internally breathe a sigh of relief.

"It's been awhile since I've last done this."

He props a arm atop the pillows. "Now that it's happening, I just realized I've missed it."

You want to ask what he means but bite your lip instead. Maybe it was some type of roleplay.

He drags a hand up his thigh before stopping at the bulge between his legs, and you can't help the thought of running your own hands against those legs.

He hums. "You know, I have a hard time keeping you out of my mind at night."

Your stomach flips but you make sure to keep your breathing controlled.

His thumbs hook under the band of his briefs and you lean a bit forward without thinking, anticipating what you had seen many times before. But for the first time in a long time you feel yourself slipping from your work frame of mind. Maybe it was inappropriate but you were sure Bruno wouldn't mind.

After teasing you for way longer than you would like, the corners of Bruno's lips quirk upward and he finally pulls down the band to reveal himself.

Bruno's cock stands erect and his brow furrows. "Look what you're doing to me..." His head lolls to the side to rest against the pillows and his breath hitches when he begins to stroke himself.

You focus on his handsome face for a moment. His blue eyes are piercing and it feels like he's looking past the camera and straight at you at you.

Your fingers twitch on the camera. You'd never wanted to touch someone so bad in your life.

-----

Bruno: Can I get your advice on something?

You: yea, what is it?

Bruno: I want to post some photos on my OnlyFans but idk which one to use on Twitter though. Can you help me decide?

You: ooo of course!

He sends 3 pictures of him wearing different elaborate lingerie. They must have been new since you're sure you'd never seen them before. Anyways, you're a millimeter away from sending a photo of a cartoon character with their jaw on the floor.

You: idk if i can decide! any of them would be enough to get me on your onlyfans...

Bruno: Thank you but you still have to pick one.

You scroll back and forth looking through them. The pictures were teasing, hinting at what was to come and they were all very sexy. But after staring for too long you finally make a choice.

You: the third one!

Bruno: Why?

You: ….it shows your tiddies the most 💁

Bruno: I thought you were going to say something about the framing or lighting...

You: LOL

You: i can look at them again?

Bruno: No it's okay. I'll use the tiddy picture.

Bruno: Thank you.

You: no problem!

You: soooo when are you posting the full set?

Bruno: Trust me, I'll let you know right beforehand. 😏

You: 😳

-----

You walk down the hallway slightly annoyed. Jocelyn just informed you that you would be covering for one of your coworkers last minute. It was inconvenient but not that big of a deal. That is until you found out that Melone was one of the actors.

When you first met him, he seemed to keep to himself for the most part. But recently he had become fixated on you. Every break in filming he’d approach you.

At first it wasn't so bad and you thought he was trying to be friendly, but it didn't take long for you to start feeling uncomfortable. Some of the questions he asked made you feel weird--it wasn't anything you weren't used to but the way he asked them... And when you tried to steer the conversation into a different direction he didn't take the hint. On top of all this, you didn't see him do this with anybody else.

You walk into the breakroom and find Bruno snacking. He greets you but quickly realizes something's up.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

The leather couch that you hate creaks when you fall back on it.

“Well I have to unexpectedly help with more camera work today. And Melone's going to be there so he's definitely going to be talking my ear off.”

You try to sound indifferent about it but Bruno says something you don't expect.

"I can talk to Jocelyn and get you out of it."

"Huh? No, no you don't need to do that. That's a silly reason to try to skip out."

"Well, how about I say it like this? I'm done for today and I would like to take you out to eat with me."

You smile. "That does sound nice..."

"Okay, it's settled then. I'll go talk to her and then we can go."

Once Bruno comes back the both of you walk to his car.

"Eating mostly oatmeal and vegetables for the last 2 days hasn't been very satisfying," he says as he opens the passenger door for you.

You get in and wait for him to walk around to get in the driver side.

"It sucks but at least you can eat whatever now. Where are we eating by the way?"

"Bertolino's--it's nearby. I'm craving pizza. Or pasta."

You feel your stomach grumble pleased with the thought.

"You could do both, kinda like macaroni pizza."

Bruno glances at you. "That sounds...unpleasant."

"Oh so you've tried it?"

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

You watch him try to wrack his brain for a rebuttal and fail.

"...It still sounds bad though," he says.

"Try it first then we can talk."

You reach out and poke the man's cheek. He immediately shoos your hand away and throws a miffed look at you.

"Hey, I'm trying to drive."

You grin but leave him alone. This was the first time you'd get to spend time with Bruno outside of work so you were a little restless and couldn't help messing with him.

"This is probably the most excited I've seen you," he says.

"Yea--just happy to be outside of work!"

"Is Melone that much of a problem?"

"No...well he can be a lot but it's not really a big issue. I'm just happy to get to spend time with you is what I meant."

Bruno's doesn't respond right away and you wonder if you said something wrong.

"If he's bothering you I can handle it," he finally says.

You let out a laugh. "Are you going to beat him up?"

"If necessary."

You stop smiling when you realize he isn't joking and conclude that he doesn't like Melone. You wonder what the man could have done to get on Bruno's bad side though since he seemed to get along with everyone.

"I feel the same by the way," Bruno says.

"Huh?"

"About getting to spend time together."

You and Bruno spend the next hour and a half sharing a pizza and talking. And the two of you learn a few things about the other that didn't involve work. Like that he wears glasses to read and that he had a dyeing "accident" with his hair recently.

Afterwards you didn't really feel like going back to work so Bruno drives you home.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thanks for the meal and ride."

Bruno smiles. His mood seems better now that he's eaten. "You're welcome. We should do this again sometime."

"Yeah, I'd like that." And instead of saying goodbye and getting out of the car, you sit there expecting--expecting something.

The both of you stare at one another until Bruno leans towards you. His lips meet yours and for some reason his breath smells like mint.

Before you can worry about your own breath, Bruno's hand is on your thigh and sliding up. His tongue presses against your lips, coaxing you to part them.

The beating in your chest feels so hard and your hands clinch next to your thighs. You want to reach out for Bruno and make a mess out of him, but you feel like you're running out of breath way too quickly.

You pull away.

Bruno immediately moves his hand off your leg. "What's wrong?"

You weren't really sure yourself. You just knew something was bothering you. Or maybe that was just the food you ate trying to digest. Either way it was preventing you from fully enjoying this.

"I'm not sure but I think it's best if we stop for now."

He nods but you worry he might be a little disappointed.

"That's fine," he says.

"It's not because I'm not interested! It's just something's off. Please dont think I'm not attracted to you."

"I'm not upset ____." He smiles. "I want you to be comfortable."

"Whew, okay.."

"Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?" he asks.

"That's okay. Thanks though."

You brush a misplaced hair behind his ear and press a quick kiss to his lips. Once you pull back, you open the car door and step out.

"Stay safe," he says.

"You too. I'll message you later."