#i had to get intoxicated to watch those scenes again

[shellshocklove]

just crazy love | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: joel had hurt you badly, but can you forgive him?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), mentions and drinking of alcohol, misogyny (bc of the times™), readers uncle is a character in this but his name is not mentioned and there's no description of looks, angst, swearing, use of pet names, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), praise kink, some size kink (pornstar!joel has a big dick), soft!dom joel, no use of y/n

a/n: this is part three and the last part to my little 70s!pornstar!joel mini-series. i'm overwhelmed by the love i got on the previous part. i honestly thought everyone had forgotten about the orginal one shot as it had been so long 💀 i really appreciate all of you who's left a comment, reply or sent me an ask! makes my heart all mushy 🥺 thank you to @dustydaddyyy for all the help and for reading through it! <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

On the way home from set, Joel started to think he’d fucked up.

You were so quiet, quieter than you usually were, and it made him worried. After wrapping his scene with Cheryl, he’d immediately looked for you, but your place in the corner where you’d stood watching was empty. He’d noticed you slip out during his scene but thought nothing of it as he knew being on set wasn’t your favorite, but then you came back, and Joel had found it hard to conceal his happiness behind his acting.

His head had been filled with memories and fantasies, memories and fantasies of you. The look you’d get in your eyes when he kissed you, blown out and wide. The feel of your soft hand wrapped around him this morning, the feel of your wet pussy tight around his cock. The sweet taste of you on his tongue. Shit. You were intoxicating. Joel couldn’t get you out of his head– and he didn’t want to try either. One look at you and those pretty eyes, and he came harder during a scene than he can remember ever doing – no need to fake any groans or moans.

It had been a long time since Joel had felt something so strongly for another woman. It must’ve been his high school sweetheart, he thought, that first teenage love, that all-consuming love that made that one special girl feel like the most important person in the world. And sure, after he moved to LA he’d dated, had a couple of girlfriends, but it never went anywhere, and his job, his job always made it complicated. Joel didn’t want complicated– so he stopped dating and got his fill of human touch through his work instead. It made his life easy, but then he’d seen you at the bar by yourself at Tommy’s club, and Joel didn’t want easy anymore.

Joel was a charming man; those southern manners had gotten him far in life, and especially with the ladies – it was no secret. And maybe he’d turned it up a few notches that night, he could admit that – hoping it would hook you in. He’d almost gone against his own rule. The rule he’d set for himself after one particularly nasty break-up a few years back: his rule of no sex outside work. He’d told himself he was protecting himself– protecting himself from getting involved into something complicated again, from getting hurt, or hurting someone he cared for. But then he’d met you, danced with you, talked to you, and Joel didn’t care about protecting himself anymore.

You weren’t someone to take home at the end of the night for a quick fuck. You were so sweet, and shy, he couldn’t help but want to get to know you better. Learn what made you smile, what books you liked, what music you listened to, but also what noises you made when you fell apart. In that dark dingy club, Joel had realized how special you were.

Maybe it was stupid what he did? He could’ve gotten your number a number of ways, but the alcohol was talking and suddenly he was offering you a job before really thinking it through – but at least he had a reason to see you again.

You were a good assistant, and he appreciated the work you did for him, his life had gotten much easier after hiring you. But you were so professional, and what Joel wanted to do to you was unprofessional. You kept on top of his schedule, took his phone calls, scheduled meetings, predicted what he needed before he even knew he wanted it. You were nothing short of a great assistant, but the more he worked with you it was clear that there were things about his job you weren’t as comfortable with – and Joel couldn’t blame you. From the outside his job was unusual, and fucking on camera wasn’t for everybody, but Joel had come to know – it especially wasn’t for you.

A couple of months in, Joel had started to think you were a virgin. At first, he thought it was just your steadfast professionalism, but your reactions to what he considered normal things in his line of work, made him wonder. Not that there was anything wrong with you being a virgin, he just couldn’t understand how anyone could look at you and not want you to be theirs. And maybe it was wrong, but it turned him on a little too, something possessive deep inside loving the thought of you being his, and only his.

He wanted you, wanted you to be his, and the more he got to know you, the more he had to fight to hold back his growing feelings. Joel could hide behind his personality, hide behind the way he loved to flirt, loving the way you squirmed from his compliments– from his teasing. It was cute, it was so goddamn cute, but it didn’t fix the ache he had inside only you could sooth.

After Pismo Beach, Joel knew he was fucked. In the car on the way back to LA he’d had trouble watching anything except your face; the beautiful glimmering sea you drove along might as well have been an oily puddle for all he cared. Nothing was sweeter than watching you hum along to the Joni Mitchell cassette you played on repeat. Joni’s mezzo-soprano clung in his ear like a warning. Yes, help me, he was falling in love too fast, but damn if it didn’t feel good.

Now a different song filled the space of his car, as he drove you home. Crosby, Stills & Nash’s melodic guitar picking hummed a low tune, their three-part harmonies flowing from his car speakers.

“Heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams, he worries.”

So yeah, Joel was worried. That rosy hue that had been tinting his world when he looked at you, had now faded to a drab dirty pink. You didn’t even look at him, and hadn’t muttered as much as a word to him since he found you in his trailer – where you’d been flicking through his papers from the meeting – after the scene ended.

“’s everythin’ alright?” Joel spoke across the silence that had grown between you.

You didn’t move your head from where it rested against the window; your face bathed in red from the sea of brake lights on the freeway. You weren’t moving much, so Joel allowed himself a good look at you. He watched the way your body curled in on itself in the seat, your fingers picking at your nailbeds – it made him pull his brows in a tight frown.

“Did he hear a goodbye, or even hello?”

With a brave hand he reached out to touch you, stroking the back of his hand against your cheek. “Hey,” he said, “did ya hear me, my sweet girl?”

“They are one person. They are two alone. They are three together. They are for each other.”

You pulled away from his touch immediately, shifting in your seat, and Joel felt his heart sink in his chest. “I’m fine,” you muttered, an unfamiliar sting in your voice.

A loud honk behind him released Joel from the shock from your tone, and his hand that had been previously dancing along your delicate skin, fell to the gear stick. Releasing the clutch slowly, Joel’s car rolled forward, following the slug traffic. You clearly weren’t fine.

“Stand by the stairway, you’ll see something certain to tell you, confusion has its cost.”

Joel let the music fill the space while you stayed quiet, a bubbling panic settling in his chest as the day played on repeat in his head. Everything had been so great earlier, until it wasn’t. He’d seen it in you after the meeting. Joel knew he should’ve said something, and he’d simmered with it all throughout the meeting, but Joel also knew better than to speak against Ronald in a setting like that.

Ronald was the best thing that had happened to Joel’s career. He was a big name in the porn industry, only managing the very best in the game. Eight years had passed since Ronald had discovered Joel.

It had been the summer of ‘67, his first year in LA already in the rear view. He’d come with a guitar case and a dream of making something of himself. Joel had chased that dream around in circles, and a year into it, he’d been free falling towards rock bottom. The gigs he’d dreamt would line up as soon as his feet touched the hot Californian sand, never came, and had it not been for Tommy, who’d made the move with him, he’d be homeless.

The whole exchange had been bizarre. Tommy was working as a busboy at a club on The Strip at the time, and as an employee, Tommy got a discount at the bar. Joel knew how to take advantage of his little brother’s benefits, and occupied a seat at the bar every weekend where he drank almost free booze, and flirted himself to a one night stand, or two, or three.

He’d sat by the bar one Saturday like usual when a man sat down in the seat next to him. Joel paid him no mind at first, continuing to smoke his cigarette and enjoy his whiskey. Then the man had started talking to him, asking if he knew this girl he’d slept with last week. He was about to deny ever having talked to someone matching this girl’s description, concerned that this man was a husband or a crazy ex-boyfriend of some sort, when the man started telling him that she dabbled in porn. Nothing crazy, just some nude photoshoots here and there, but she’d told him all about Joel and his impressive package.

Joel was about to tell the man to go fuck himself – the conversation twisting into something way too weird for Joel to navigate – when the man, Ronald, had offered to manage him. 

Sure, Joel was gifted, blessed, some might even say, but it had sounded too good to be true: getting paid the big bucks for just having sex? At the time, it had sounded like every man’s pipe dream but now, Joel owed Ronald everything.

If the movie deal with VCA went through, Joel’d owe him even more. It was a miracle he was this sought after in the first place. The top consumers of porn, Joel knew, and he supposed the entire porn industry knew, were predominantly men looking for big boobs and a willing woman, neither of which he was. But the tide was turning with the rise of the women’s movement, and Ronald had thrown his net into the pool of opportunity at the exact right moment.

The cynical part of Joel told him it paid his bills – he’d been so desperate in that club – but now, now he was living large as his popularity had continued to grow, and grow, and grow. He’d paved his path towards success, towards the success he’d dreamed about those eighth years ago. And sure, it felt good to be sought after and desired by women everywhere, but if he was being honest, the only woman he wanted to be desired by in this moment, was you.

He loved your gentle nature, that shy, almost timid, way you looked at him. No one had looked at him like that before. It felt so much more real, but it was like something was always holding you back, like you could never allow yourself to just be, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Joel recognized that feeling, he did. He was from the south after all, and as far as his family was concerned, Joel was a sinner. That guilt they instilled in him– he’d sat with that a long time, years spent learning not to hate himself for the choices he’d made, unlearning years of shame. To not feel guilty about his desires, to embrace all that life had to offer with open arms, to dream, to eat until he was full and still have room for dessert.

“Love isn’t lying, it’s loose in a lady who lingers.”

Clearing his throat, Joel spoke again, “Somethin’ ‘s clearly wrong, sweet girl.”

“Please don’t call me that,” you sighed, voice strained like you were close to crying. The broken sound of you shattered something inside him.

“Saying she is lost, and choking on hello.”

Finally, the traffic picked up its pace, and Joel changed gear, gaining speed for the first time since you got on the freeway.  

“My sweet girl?” he asked, “I thought you liked that?”

Crosby, Stills & Nash sang their last lines, before the song faded into some disco song Joel had never heard before. It was loud and obnoxious, and your answer drowned in the beat. Joel’s hand was on the volume button in less than a second, turning it down.

“I didn’t,” you repeated in a whisper, “I don’t.”

You shifted your body closer to the door, and Joel knew he had to do something to make you feel better.

“How about…” he started, his hand shifting from the gear stick to land on the thick of your thigh, “I’ll drive us back to my place, and we’ll pick up where we left of this mornin’, huh? Would that make ya feel better?”

You crossed your leg over the other, making his hand slip from your thigh. “I’m too tired, Joel– it’s been a long day… and I didn’t get enough sleep,” you sighed, eyes closed and defeated.

“You sure? Swe–” Joel cut himself off before he could say it, the sweetness turning bitter on his tongue.

You didn’t answer, didn’t look at him, didn’t let him touch you. Something tightened in his chest. You were slipping away like sand through his fingers.

Maybe this wasn’t about the meeting after all?

“’s this about Cheryl?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, to conceal the panic bubbling in his throat. “’s just for work– was just actin’.”

You took a deep breath, and held it before you spoke, like you were practicing what to say before you said it. “It’s fine, Joel– I’m not your girlfriend.”

Not his girlfriend. Not his. Never his.

This time he couldn’t look at you, his hand gripping tightly around the steering wheel as he glimpsed your apartment complex down at the next turn.

“I thought–” Shit. A breathless chuckle devoid of any joy left him. He was speechless. 

Pulling into the parking lot next to your car, Joel didn’t know what to do. He watched you gather your things, while the heaviness in his chest grew.

Was it over before it had even begun?

“I’m…” you drew a shaky breath, “I’ll see you at work.”

And then you were gone, slipping out the door and leaving Joel alone in the swollen silence of your absence. His heart hammered in his chest, his breathing growing shallower as he watched you hurry across the parking lot in the rear-view mirror.

Move you fucking idiot– run after her, his brain told him, but he couldn’t move an inch. Shit. Shit. Shit. His chest tightened, and tightened, his fingers clawing at the rough fabric of his jeans as he started gasping for air. He’d wanted you for so long, and now you were gone. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? With shaky hands he managed to roll down the window, the fresh evening air filled his lungs as he tried his best to calm down.

Joel had fucked up.

When Thursday rolled around, and Joel still hadn’t heard from you, he started to wonder if it was excessive to file a missing persons report. He’d tried to call you multiple times since Monday, but your phone was always off the hook. The hollow beeping of the busy signal doing nothing to calm the panic building in him since Monday.

He’d been so stupid, and he’d cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Embarrassment suffocating him at the fact that it hadn’t settled in until Ronald had shown him the first rough cut of his chemistry test with Cheryl yesterday.

It had been Cheryl’s idea, the whole innocence thing. She’d pitched it to him after the meeting ended, telling him how excited she was for this opportunity, and how much she was looking forward to finally filming later. Joel had played along; he was at work after all – it was his job. So, he turned on the charm, tested the chemistry waters, and agreed. She was new to the industry and young, it made sense.

What didn’t make sense was what he’d called her. Sweet girl. He’d called Cheryl that multiple times without even realizing it – too lost in his thoughts of you, and how he wished it was you with your lips wrapped around him.

Joel was fucking stupid.

He’d convinced you to watch him get a blowjob from another woman right after you’d confessed to never having given head before. He knew you were inexperienced, but that had never mattered to him. Joel thought it was kinda nice to explore sex with you – to find out what you liked, and what you didn’t. It made it exciting again – it wasn’t just work. But hearing himself praise Cheryl for making him feel good was the last straw for him – he needed to apologize to you.

How he wished he’d been able to convince you to stay in bed that morning– to forget about the stupid fucking meeting. Finally, he’d had you. Finally, he could kiss you, and hold you, and make you feel good. The sweetness of you, of having had you, now bitter as he realized he’d probably never get that back.

Wiping a sweaty palm on his jeans, he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for someone to buzz him into your apartment complex. He knew he shouldn’t be here, he could get you in trouble, but he needed to see you, to talk to you face to face.

“Hello?” a static voice croaked through the busted speakers of the rusting door buzzer.

“Pizza delivery,” Joel answered, and not a second later the door buzzed.

Trudging up the stairs the words he’d rehearsed played on a loop in his head: He know you probably don’t want to see him ever again, but he needed to apologize for what happened on Monday. He never meant to hurt you the way he did. He understands he was never your boyfriend, but that was what he wanted to be, and he’s sorry for the way he acted.

Stopping outside your apartment door he drew in a deep breath before he knocked. It felt like he stood there for hours waiting while nothing happened. That worry he’d felt for days now tugging harder at his neck. Joel knocked again, a little harder with the shout of your name, and added ‘It’s Joel’ for good measure. Again, nothing. When he repeated the action a third time, the door to the neighboring apartment flew open.

“She’s not home,” your neighbor told him, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She was dressed in a formless paisley patterned dress, hair thrown back in a low ponytail as she bounced a crying baby in her arms. When Joel’s eyes landed on the little girl in her arms, she told him, “You woke her up with all that banging.”

“I’m sorry ma’am,” he said earnestly, “I never meant to–” The baby screamed louder, face red from exertion.

“Sure, you didn’t,” she scoffed, with a roll of her eyes. She bounced her daughter, shifting her hold to hike her up over her shoulder, hand tap tapping at her back as she started to bounce her.

Sliding his hands into his jean pockets, Joel didn’t know what to do. Awkwardly he cleared his throat, tilting his head towards your door. “D’you–” Joel started, before your neighbor cut him off.

“No, but I saw her getting picked up by an older man about an hour ago.” Something about the judgement in her tone didn’t sit right with Joel.

He nodded at the information. Your uncle. Joel remembered now. Your uncle was coming to visit – taking you to dinner. What had you said on the phone again? An Italian place in Santa Monica?

Pulling his car keys from his pocket, he thanked your neighbor – making sure to apologize once again for the ruckus, before he hurried back down the stairs. He walked with long steps towards his car. The sun was setting on LA, turning the clouds and the city pink, but he paid the beautiful sight no mind, his eyes set on the Italian restaurant in Santa Monica where he knew Deborah worked.

“Well would you look at what the cat dragged in.”

Joel turned his head towards the source of the familiar voice, only to find himself eye to eye with Deborah, and her raised eyebrow.

The air smelled like garlic and basil, and the restaurant hummed with conversation over the sound of Dean Martin. She was adorning the restaurant’s waiter uniform, a short red dress over a white collared shirt, while balancing a tower of dirty plates in her hands. He almost didn’t recognize her, she looked so different from how he was used to seeing her – all dolled up at Tommy’s club.

“Deborah,” he acknowledged with a nod, plastering a polite smile on his face.

“Don’t you ‘Deborah’ me, Miller,” she told him with a scoff, placing the tower of dishes down on an empty table before crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at him, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m lookin’ for–”

“I bet you are,” Deborah replied, raising an unimpressed brow, “She ain’t here.”

Joel sighed, his face pulling into a defeated smile. “I know she’s with her uncle, Deborah. She told me she was takin’ him to an Italian restaurant in Santa Monica– As far as I’m concerned, that’s this place.”

Deborah shrugged nonchalantly, and Joel felt himself start to get annoyed. “Sorry, haven’t seen her in months.”

“Deb,” Joel let out through an exasperated sigh, a hand coming up to rub his eye, “Listen, I–... I just came to apologize, okay? I did somethin’ stupid that I shouldn’t have, and I need to apologize to her f’it.”

Deborah scoffed at Joel’s words, shaking her head with a bitter smile. “I bet you did something stupid... always the same thing with you Millers, hm? You always do first and think later.”

Confused, Deborah’s tone made Joel raise a single eyebrow, “Sure we still talkin’ about me?”

He hadn’t heard much from Tommy about what had gone on between him and Deborah, but he knew it hadn’t been very pretty. Tommy had just broken up Maria for the umpteenth time when they’d started going around. It was never going to last, Joel knew it the second he’d met Deb. Tommy always came back to Maria somehow, it didn’t matter how badly it had ended – like an endless figure eight they’d always meet again in the middle.

“Potato, potahto,” she said with a falsely sweet smile.

“Look, I ain’t my brother, okay? Never have been, never will be. Now I ain’t got a clue what went down between the two of you, and I’m damn near sure he deserves all the rage you’ve got to throw at ‘him, but it ain’t my business to sort out, so don’t go makin’ it my business...”

Deb tightened her arms over her chest, green eyes glaring at him, still, Joel could see a twinkle of curiosity in her eyes, too. “Apologize for what? You dock her pay or something?”

“No,” Joel let out with an annoyed breath.

“So what, you fired her?”

“No, Deb,” Joel said again, his voice heavy with exasperation.

Deborah quieted down for a second as she scrutinized him, her eyes boring into him. Then, her eyes cleared, and she shook her head.

“You got handsy, didn’t you?” she asked eventually, raising a questioning eyebrow. Joel couldn’t hide the guilt on his face, it told her all she needed to know. Her hands fell to her sides, “Jesus Christ, Miller... don’t you get laid enough at work?”

“Look, it ain’t like that,” he said, shaking his head as he felt his cheeks heat up, which only embarrassed him more.

Joel Miller doesn’t blush.

When Deb crossed her arms again, expression expectant as she looked silently at him, Joel sighed. “Deb… I really like her– and I know ya’ll are friends, and you want to protect her, but you gotta give me a fair shot, too... I never meant to hurt her, but I did, and if I have to spend the rest of my life apologizin’ to her every single day then that’s what I’mma do, but I promise you, you’re going to get sick of me real quick.”

There was a moment of silence in which the two of them looked at each other, before Deb raised a finger to point at Joel, taking a step forward.

“You listen here, Miller,” she said, wagging it under his nose, “Just this once, I’m going to be nice to you, for old times’ sake... but if I so much as hear a squeak from her you’re acting like a bastard, then you bet your ass I’m coming the hell after you.”

Joel nodded slowly, pulling in a deep breath through his nose as he pursed his lips.

“Anythin’ else?” he asked, raising a semi-impressed eyebrow, but Deborah only scoffed at his tone, poking him in the chest a final time.

“Yeah, tell your brother to stop calling,” she said, looking up at him, before nodding towards the back of the restaurant, “Unlike her, I don’t give second chances.”

“I’ll pass it on,” Joel said with a nod, but his voice was already absent as he finally spotted your familiar shape sitting in a booth at the very back of the restaurant.

Twirling your fork absentmindedly through your spaghetti, you listened to your uncle yap on and on about the boys at the garage, and the car he’d just driven down here.

“It’s a beaut,” your uncle said through a mouthful of his own pasta, “1971 C3 model, nice dark green color Ralphie repainted. You know I’m not a convertible guy myself, can’t give up my truck, but I could see myself in one of them cars out here– apparently, it’s being sold to some high-profile actor or something.”

“Really?” you asked, trying to steer this never-ending one-sided conversation towards something somewhat interesting.

“Yeah, you know I don’t keep up with them celebrities, but I’m pretty sure I was talking to the client’s manager on the phone.”

You nodded, letting your fork fall to take a sip of your water. Your uncle hadn’t let you order yourself a glass of wine, the impression that you were still that innocent little girl you were back when you worked in his garage shop hard to shake. Your uncle, on the other hand, nursed his beer.

“That’s exciting,” you said with a small smile.

“Oh yeah, we’ve got this bet going at the shop about who it is–” Your uncle cut himself off as a broad figure approached your table. Looking up from your plate your breath hitched when you saw the man before you.

“Joel?” His name fell from your lips before you had time to think, your brows pulling together in confusion, before something tugged at the hurt in your heart. What was he doing here?

“Hi, sweetheart.” His face wore a quiet smile, eyes scanning over your form.

“W-what are you doing here?” you stuttered out, a panic racing in your chest while a lump formed in your throat. You couldn’t do this here, especially not in front of your uncle.

“I was in the neighborhood– saw y’all through the window and wanted to…” he trailed off, finally noticing your uncle. “Sorry, sir,” he reached out his hand to your uncle in a greeting, “Joel Miller, I’m–”

“Joel’s an actor,” you cut him off, “he starred in one of Mr. Cooper’s commercials a few months ago,” you lied.

You could see the kink in Joel brow at your lie, that quiet surprise he then played off with a charming smile. “Yeah, that’s right– a beer commercial, wasn’t it?” He looked at you with one eyebrow raised. Biting down on your lip you confirmed the lie with a nod.

“You do look a little familiar,” you uncle said, dragging the words out like he’s pulling them from his memory, “they show your commercial on the TV?”

“Oh, I haven’t been payin’ attention, but somethin’ like that,” Joel shrugged, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his tight Levis, his signature western belt buckle glinting in the low light. “Y’all mind if I join y’all for a drink?”

“Not at all,” your uncle smiled before you could say anything. Joel lifted his hand to get Deborah’s attention to order himself a beer, before he squeezed himself into the booth next to you, his knee bumping into yours as he got comfortable.

Having lost your appetite, you shifted your plate to the side to make room for Joel. It was a tight squeeze in the booth, the warmth of his body flooding your senses, the familiar scent of cigarettes and of his cologne making your heart ache.

How could you miss him, and hate him all at the same time?

Deborah served Joel his drink quickly, checking in at your table at the same time. Her eyes were focused on you as she cleared the table, asking you a silent ‘You okay?’ which you quickly nodded at. You knew she’d make up some crazy excuse to get you out of any situation, but you didn’t know if you could handle it if she did. It was easier to just suffer through. You’d suffered enough this past week; you could handle another hour.

The days since you’d seen Joel last had been spent between your bed and your couch. Unfocused eyes rolling over reruns as you let a blanket of numbness fall over you as the hours passed you by. You felt so tired, that kind of tired that sits in your stomach, heavy and pulling you down, every step a drag and every breath a strain. You’d isolated yourself for days, hadn’t showered for days, you were too tired to do it, and what did it matter anyway?

You’d tried to cry, but you couldn’t make the tears fall. You wanted the release, and to feel sorry for yourself, but nothing came. And what good would it do? Nothing. You were nothing. Nothing to yourself, nothing to Joel, and nothing to this lonely city. Just some small-town girl who thought she could change who she was, who she was always destined to be.

After two whole days on your couch, you had to get up, you had no choice. You wanted to cancel, to tell your uncle that you’d come down with the flu, but you knew he was driving all day, and you wouldn’t have a clue where to call to reach him. So, you’d sat up, ate a piece of bread, and had a shower. Every minute you tried to not think of Joel, tried to not think about the way he’d kissed you hello in your hallway, the way he'd held you through the night as you slept soundly in his arms, how his gaze had felt over your features on your way back from Pismo Beach – it was all too much. Every nice memory ruined by the way his voice had echoed ‘Sweet girl’ to Cheryl.

Sweet girl. Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that. My sweet girl.

How stupid you’d felt hearing those words. You’d fooled yourself into thinking there was something more between you and Joel. You weren’t special, and that was the worst part, because he’d made you feel special. He’d made you feel desired– like he actually liked you. Or maybe that’s what hurt the most – to realize that to him you were just one girl among many.

You’d placed your phone back on the hook in the afternoon, anticipating your uncle’s call, and when it rang, you were relieved to hear his familiar voice down the line. It was all so complicated. The relief a strange mix with the suffocating memories of home. You were different now than when you worked at his shop. Still shy, but still different, more grown up and more independent. He didn’t know you anymore. No one knew you anymore– well except for one person.

You’d felt free with Joel– even before, when he was just your boss. He’d challenged you, made you come out of your shell, challenged your shame, and challenged your guilt. And watching Joel small talk with your uncle, you started to wonder if that was the reason why it had hit you so hard? Joel had let you be yourself, while still challenging you. He’d let you be shy, while still feeling sexy. He’d made you feel seen, until you’d been forgotten.

“You guys will have to excuse me, I need to take a leak,” your uncle said, pulling you from your thoughts, and getting up from his seat.

With his glass raised to his lips, Joel only gave him a short nod as he watched him walk away from your table. When your uncle was out of earshot, Joel dropped the act, shoulders relaxing as he gently placed his beer on the red and white gingham.

His face looked tired, eyes sparkling with melancholy. “I’m sorry for showin’ up here all unannounced,” he started, fingertips tapping lightly over the cloth, “you weren’t pickin’ up your phone and I need to talk to you.”

The lump on your throat grew larger as you tried to swallow around it, lost for words. “F-for what?” you said, voice hoarse and not louder than a whisper.

“I think we both know for what,” he sighed, “I fucked it up with you– never should’ve said those things to Cheryl– even if it was just actin’. I got so caught up in you, I didn’t realize what I’d said until it was too late, and I’m sorry.”

“I-I, J-Joel,” you stuttered, brows pulling together tightly as you searched for your words.

“You don’t need to say nothin’ right now, but I wanna drive you home ‘f that’s okay? Wanna have a proper talk with you.”

His hand was shaking as he placed it gently on your shoulder, the touch making your eyes fall shut as a hitching breath escaped you.

“Joel,” you whispered.

“Please,” his hand moved gently up your neck to cup your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending goosebumps down your spine. “Please, I need to explain myself.” His voice sounded pained and full of sorrow. “I’m beggin’ you, sweetheart.”

You opened your eyes slowly, breath shaky as you tried to hold back the tears pressing behind your eyes. His whole face shifted when you met his eyes, melancholy turning to worry, his other hand coming up to cup your other cheek as he shifted closer.

“Hey,” he said it so softly, “Sweet girl, sweet sweet girl, please don’t cry.” His forehead fell against yours, his mustache tickling your skin as he pressed ‘I’m sorry’ into it.

“O-okay,” you managed to stutter out against your better judgment.

Joel lifted his head, brown warm eyes finding yours as his thumbs rubbed gently into your skin, “Yeah?”

Behind Joel, you noticed your uncle exit the men’s room, and you jerked out of Joel’s hold. His brows tightened together in a confused frown before you gave him a short nod in the direction of your uncle. Joel gathered his hands in his lap, his eyes tracing your uncle as he squeezed back into his seat. He gave Joel a look you couldn’t decipher, jaw locked tight and eyes piercing, before he turned to you with a plastered smile.

“Alright, what do you say, sweetie? You want some dessert?”

Your eyes flicked quickly from your uncle to Joel, and then back again, “No, I think I’m too full, and um… it’s getting late.”

Your uncle hummed, “Yeah, been a long day for sure.” Shifting in his seat your uncle fished his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Let’s see if we can get a hold of that pretty friend of yours,” he said, turning his head to search for Deborah.

As he got her attention, Joel fished his pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his shirt. He lit himself a cigarette as you watched your uncle hold up his wallet and point. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Joel, watching the way his lips pursed around the cigarette as he inhaled.

“I think I’m also gonna use the restroom before we leave,” you peeped, getting to your feet before anyone could say anything. You felt Joel’s hands graze the back of your legs as you squeezed past him. The touch quick but gentle, but still leaving a burn of longing either way.

Pushing open the door to the restroom you took a deep breath. Joel was here. Joel was here and he wanted to apologize. Pacing to the end of the room, you discreetly dropped your head to check the stalls. No one. Good. Leaning your weight over the stone sink, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

What were you doing? One touch from Joel and you fall apart?

You released a breathless laugh and shook your head at yourself; you were in over your head, but at the same time a bubble of relief sat in your throat. He was here after all, he wanted to explain himself, and you knew that deep down you wanted to hear it.   

When you made your way back to the table, something in the air had changed. “There she is,” your uncle said, gathering his jacket, “Ready to go?”

“Um…” You looked to Joel, but something about him looked different. His shoulders looked tense, the cigarette pinched between his fingers were close to burning out, but it was his face when he looked at you that made you worried. The previous tenderness gone, replaced by a clenched jaw and eyes that wouldn’t meet yours.

“Actually, Joel said–”

He cut you off, “I’m gonna stay for another drink…”

His words dropped to the pit your stomach where they weighed you down, your feet frozen to the tiled floor. When Joel still didn’t look at you as he handed you your jacket and purse, you knew something was clearly wrong. Beside you your uncle crowded your space. His hand landed on your shoulder where it rubbed harshly into your skin, almost possessive as his eyes locked on Joel in a way that said, ‘good man’.

“I’ll drive you home, sweetie.”

With a hand resting at your back, your uncle guided you out the restaurant without as much as a mutter of goodbye to Joel. You looked back at him, not once but twice, but he still didn’t look at you – his eyes were glued to the foam of his beer as you vanished out the door.

Back inside your uncle’s rental car you were quiet, sitting with your thoughts as they swirled around your head. You’d been so close to believing Joel; that he was actually sorry, that he wanted to apologize. But once again you’d been a fool. Leaning your head against the window you felt so silly– silly for getting your hopes up.

“I– uh,” your uncle cleared his throat, “That Joel back there, sweetie, he’s not who he says he is.”

Lifting your head you turned to your uncle with a frown, “I don’t–”

Your uncle cut you off, “I don’t want to be telling you this– lord knows I don’t want your aunt knowing about this but…”

You watched how your uncle’s grip tightened around the steering wheel, his nervousness infecting you. What was he talking about?

“But what?” Your voice rose an octave, as you let out a nervous breath.

“Joel does porn,” your uncle revealed. He said it all dramatic, like he was in a movie and this scene was the turning point for your character. You had to restrain yourself to hide the laugh tickling your throat as he continued, “I thought he looked familiar, and– jesus, don’t you ever tell anybody about this but… he’s in a couple of movies I keep in the basement.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your eyes staring straight ahead down the road. You cringed at the new atmosphere settling in the car, stuffy with embarrassment and a picture of your uncle getting off to Joel stuck to your retinas. You wanted to hurl, this new picture not something you’d ever want to visualize. You were quiet as the revelation settled, your brain searching for words, but it was like they’d all fallen out your ears.

“Listen,” he cleared his throat of the discomfort, “I don’t know what he is to you, if he’s your boyfriend or what–”

“He’s not,” you squeaked, ready for this conversation to be over.

“I saw him kissing you when I stepped out of the toilets,” your uncle accused sternly, a biting lilt to his voice.

“Kiss me? I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, confused about how he’d gotten it in his head that Joel had kissed you.

“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” he started to yell, “I saw it with my own two eyes, don’t you go lying to me.”

Your heart picked up its pace, all the blood in your body turning to ice in your veins. Pressing your lips together in a thin line, you fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

“I don’t want you seeing him anymore– that kinda filth he’s involved in…” he shook his head, “it’s sinful and I don’t want him getting you involved in that.” Your uncle’s voice was stern, words spat through gritted teeth.

You were frozen in your seat. Your heart beating so fast you thought it might burst through your ribcage. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. All too quickly you were transported back home, back to who you used to be. You drew a shaky breath as a single tear spilled down your cheek.

“What would your parents say if they knew what you were doing down here? Who your friends were? That Deborah? Did you see how short her dress was? The city of sin this is,” your uncle continued as he pulled into the parking lot outside your apartment complex.

With eyes glued to your hands, you couldn’t get a single word to come out of your mouth – like they were stuck to the back of your throat where they formed a painful lump. After parking the car, your uncle turned to you, a finger brushing over your cheek in a suffocating touch.

“Sweetie,” he started, voice gone softer, “I’m worried about you. You’re out here all alone– all alone with all this temptation. Wouldn’t it be nice if you came back home with me, hm? Get you back where you belong?”

"I–..."

The words stayed stuck in your throat, unable to rise over the anxiety that gripped you at the thought of returning home to your parents. How different your life would be, back to the way it used to be, an old prison you'd hoped you'd left far behind you. Yet you felt numb, finding yourself incapable of uttering a single word of protest as your uncle nodded self-righteously. 

"I think that's the best, sweetie," he told you, his tone sounding entirely too convinced, "Tell you what Hon. . . I'm gonna be driving back down tomorrow, and I'll be damned if you aren't sitting in this seat all safe right next to me, alright? So why don't you go and pack your stuff and a bag, and I'll be by in the afternoon to pick you up?"

You said nothing, the rising panic in your throat rendering you almost paralyzed. Your fingers desperately reached for the car door handle; you needed to get out of this car. 

Unaware of your distress, your uncle bid you a contented 'See you later' as you stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut. 

Finally, he drove off. You watched him disappear with a knot in your stomach until he was just a tiny dot on the horizon, wishing he would stay that way as you tried desperately not to throw up your dinner in the parking lot.

“Hello?”

The electric static of your voice filled Joel with a deep sense of relief. His grip around the phone handset tightened as he forced out a clumsy, “It’s Joel.”

The sigh you sent down the phone tickled up his spine, but before you could say anything Joel continued, “I just wanted to apologize to you… for last night.”

He’d felt awful all through the night and into the morning. He’d fucked it up again. Letting you leave like that last night was the hardest thing he’d done in a long while. Had you not gone to the bathroom and left him with your uncle, none of this would’ve happened.

You sighed again, “All you do is apologize Joel, but do you ever mean it?”

Joel face contracted into a grimace, “I do, sweet girl, you don’t know how much I mean it,”

“Joel…” your voice sounded pained, and it shattered something inside him. He just wanted you to be happy, and loved, and taken care of, but all he’d done was hurt you, again and again.

“It doesn’t matter how much you mean it Joel… none of it matters anymore.” The tone of your voice scared him.

“What d’you mean, sweetheart?” he hurried.

“It’s just… you don’t need to worry about me anymore, Joel– I’m leaving LA tonight.”

Joel felt his heart drop to his stomach, a rising panic bubbling under his skin as he stumbled out, “What are you talkin’ about, sweet girl?”

“I’m going back home tonight. I-I don’t know when I’ll be back– if I’m coming back. Joel, I can’t be your assistant anymore.”

“Fuck being my assistant!” he spoke through gritted teeth, holding back from yelling out in panic, “What d’you mean you’re leavin’?” Joel’s voice faltered as his heart caught up with what was about to happen.

He was gonna lose you. You would never be his. He was losing the first girl he thought he could really love. The girl he wanted a future with. Hell, the girl he could see himself grow old with. Joel knew it was fast, way too fast to be feeling like this about you, but right now, all those shitty romance novels about finding ‘the one’, all those weeping love songs about love at first sight – after you, they didn’t seem so stupid anymore.

“Joel, it’s– it’s okay.” Your voice had gone soft, but he could still hear the strain of hurt in it.

“It’s not, sweet girl, nothin’ about this is okay.” Joel’s eyes fell shut, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t lose you. “I’m comin’ over– We can’t be doin’ this over the phone.”

“Joel,” you sighed.

“I’m comin’ over,” he reiterated, and hung up.

You were carrying a bag to your car when you saw Joel’s car pull into the parking lot. He must’ve noticed you right away as he’d hastily parked next to your own car – his wheels screeched against the asphalt. As you made your way across the parking lot, you watched how he almost jumped out the car like he was in a hurry, coming around the back to fill the space between your cars.

“Joel– you really didn’t have to come all the way out here,” you told him when you got close enough, stepping past him to place your last bag in your back seat. He leaned his hand on your door, holding it open for you, his broad form shielding you from the blazing afternoon sun.

Inside, your apartment was left half-empty. You’d left most of your things, only bringing your clothes, your pictures, your records and your record player, and your books. 

You didn’t need much more where you were going.

The thought still made your stomach turn in on itself, the dread of going back home had trickled down your back ever since last night. But what choice did you have? It was either your parents finding out about your job and Joel, or going back home. You knew your uncle; he’d never keep this a secret if you didn’t do as he said. If your parents found out it would be over for you. You didn’t even want to think about it; they’d disown you if they were feeling nice, or send you to an asylum if they were feeling extra nice. If you didn’t go now, they’d never let you come home again, and it scared you, you were already on thin ice for moving to LA in the first place.

“Are you just gonna pretend this isn’t your uncle’s idea?” Joel’s voice had a bite to it, and it caught you off guard. Standing to your full height you raised a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. His face wore none of the anger you’d heard in his voice, instead there was a veil of sadness coating his features.

“I– Why do you think that?” You tried to keep your voice steady, normal, you didn’t want him to hear how scared you were.

“’Cause of what he told me back at the restaurant,” he closed your car door, “told me he knew who I really was and to stay away from you– he didn’t want me taintin’ you with my filth.”

Your eyes fell shut as your hand came up to rub at your forehead. So that’s what happened yesterday? Letting your hand fall, your eyes fell over Joel’ face; over his neat mustache that tickled you in just the right way whenever he kissed you, over his soft curls he’d let grow out the last couple of months, and over his eyes. His brown eyes now swirling with something you hadn’t seen in them before. Shame?  

“I done fucked it up haven’t I– you associatin’ with me? He’s takin’ you back to your daddy, ‘s that it?” When he met your eyes they softened, a veil of his regular self now concealing that blink of insecurity.  

You shook your head as a lump grew at the back of your throat, “You just– you don’t understand Joel.” The words came out strained as you felt tears push behind your eyelids.

“Hey,” Joel softened immediately, his hand wrapping gently around your upper arm and sending a warmth through your body. “You’re okay, sweet girl, tell me what I don’t understand.”

He stepped a little closer, but not too close, his hand traveled up your arm in a soothing gesture. Your eyes fell shut again, squeezing them tight to stave off your tears. You’ve never talked about it before with anybody. Never talked about your family and how trapped you’d felt by their rules and their expectations; the guilt they’d instilled in you for never being able to live up to the person they wanted you to be.

You shook your head, “I don’t think I can,” you half-whispered.

“Sweetheart, I– I know I fucked it up with you, and I know I ain’t your boyfriend or nothin’, but I do care for you– I care for you more than you think. I wanna be there for you when somethin’s wrong. So please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Slowly opening your eyes, you looked at him. Those warm like whiskey eyes staring at you with concern and with a hint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Adoration? Fondness? Love?

“My uncle will be back soon,” you said, voice low, “he wants to get on the road before dark.”

“’s that really what you want?” he asked then, his hand slipping from your arm.

“It’s– it’s complicated, Joel.”

A sigh escaped him, as he ran a hand over his face, “Yeah… I just wish you weren’t leavin’– wish it didn’t have to end like this.”

He didn’t look like himself. Eyes shining with sadness, and that usual cocky lilt to his voice gone, exchanged by something low and strangled. His face contorted into a crooked smile, his shoulders shaking with an unhumorous breathy laugh as he shook his head.

“Shit–”, he snickered, “life’s cruel sometimes… you finally fall in love with a girl and then…” he shook his head.

You felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Fall in love? In love with you? Joel didn’t look at you, his hand rubbed at the back of his neck as he started to walk away, rounding the tail of his car.

“Fall in love?” you asked, hands falling to your side in shock, “with me?”

Joel stopped at your voice, “Couldn’t help it,” he shrugged with a sad smile.

Those tears you’d fought so hard to stave off finally broke loose, a single tear running down your cheek – the tear in the dam of your sadness. Joel’s arms were around you in an instance, strong and steady. He held you so close to his broad chest, that familiar scent of cologne mixed with cigarettes making a sob escape you as you realized you’d never be able to be this close to him ever again.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his shirt.

Joel’s grip around you tightened as he dipped his head against your cheek, “Why are you apologizin’, sweet girl? I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you whispered; your tears staining his shirt.

“Then don’t– stay,” Joel said, soothing a hand across your back.

“I-I can’t– they’ll… they’ll hate me if they find out.”

“Find out about what, sweet girl?”

“You… the porn… everything. He’ll tell them and I’ll never be able to come home again,” you cried into his shirt.

“Okay,” Joel sighed, loosening his grip around you, “let’s go back to my place– we should talk.”

“But my uncle–” you started to protest, but Joel cut you off.

“He doesn’t decide over you, sweet girl, you make your own decisions– you hear me?”

His hands found your face, his massive palms holding you gently as he rubbed his thumbs down your cheek, drying your tears. You could only nod.

You’d never been inside Joel’s house before, you realized, as you trailed after him up the steps to his front door. He lived in one of those houses at the top of a long hill where he had the most incredible view over LA. You knew porn paid him the big bucks, but he’d been sensible when it came to his home – well, sensible for LA. 

It was a one-story house in the shape of an U; inside, the hallway opened up to a living room where big glass doors framed his back yard and a kidney shaped pool. Warm, dark toned wood paneling clad his walls and made the space feel masculine, but inviting.

With a hand hovering over your back he guided you towards his couch. “D’you want a cup of tea?” Joel asked you as you sat down on his leather couch. He looked nervous where he stood, palms running down the side of his leg like he didn’t know what to do with them. It was contagious.

“Um, okay,” you nodded, shifting a little in your seat and folding your hands in your lap.

Waiting for Joel to come back from the kitchen you tried to steady your stuttering heart. You’d been mostly silent on the drive over, trying to wrap your head around the fact that Joel was in love with you – the fact never seeming to stick to your brain in the right way.

It felt ridiculous – Joel, a successful pornstar, being in love with you. But stacked on top of his confession was the fact that Joel was a pornstar – making a living out of having sex with other women. You didn’t understand how exactly it bothered you, but you knew that it did somewhere deep down – but then again did you have any right to be bothered by it if it paid your bills.

“Didn’t know if you took sugar or not so I brought the bowl.” Joel pulled you from your thoughts, placing a steaming cup of tea and a small crystal bowl filled with sugar on the coffee table in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, your hand finding the string to bop the teabag as you watched the steaming water turn darker.

You felt the cushion dip as Joel sat down, a seat of absence between you. 

The air felt loaded. Loaded with the week left behind you. Loaded with Joel’s lingering confession. Loaded with the uncertain future. Joel watched your hands, eyes fixed but far away.

“I… uh,” Joel cleared his throat as he searched for his words. “I wanna apologize to you for– for everythin’ that happened at work on Monday.”

You felt yourself not, drawing back your hands to rest them in your lap, a finger clumsily picking at your nailbed.

“There ain’t no excuse for how I was actin’– for the things I said… truth is, the way I feel about you, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You make–” Joel tipped his head, a smile coating his lips, “you make everythin’ just brighter– like everythin’ will be alright as long as I have you… And I know this all feels fast, but I’ve been crazy ‘bout you since I first laid my eyes on you. I ain’t ever believed in that ‘love at first sight’ crap but,” Joel hesitated, like the words hung at the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t let go.

“But?” you encouraged.

“I think I do now.”

His words tasted so bitter and so sweet. Tipping your head downwards your eyes found your hands.

“Joel…” you shook your head, trying to will the words to form. “This… I don’t understand.”

“What ain’t you understandin’, sweet girl?” He shifted his weight, leaning closer but still maintaining a respectful distance.

“Why me?” You looked up from your lap, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

“Are you kiddin’ me?” He breathed out in shock.

“I mean, you’re Joel Packer– you can have any girl you want… and I guess you already do– at work.” You swallowed around the growing lump in your throat, tears pushing behind your eyelids.

“Well, I ain’t in love with all those other girls, am I?” His voice was gentle; the words escaping like they were the easiest words in the world.

Your tears pushed their way forward, trailing down your cheeks like curving rivers. Joel instantly moved closer, the familiar warmth of his body against your side made the tears run faster.

“Hey, my sweet girl, it’s okay, baby, it’s alright,” he cooed, pulling you into his embrace.

“It’s not, Joel… I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into his shoulder.

“Tell me and we’ll figure it out together,” he pulled away to cup your head in his hands, thumbs wiping away your tears, “just tell me, baby.”

You watched his face, your eyes dancing over his features, drinking him in. Drawing a deep breath, you told Joel everything. You told him about your parents and your upbringing, their rules and their expectations. How they’d wanted you to be the perfect student, the perfect daughter, and someday the perfect wife. You told him why you’d moved to LA in the first place – to run from it all, from the guilt and shame they instilled in you for never being what they wanted. Joel held you in his arms as you emptied your feelings. He let you speak, humming at the right moments and squeezing you tighter when it was extra emotional for you.

“And now my uncle’s gonna tell them about you and the porn and–” you spoke fast, stumbling over your words, “they’ll disown me– I know it or worse they’ll come and get me… send me somewhere,” you sobbed.

“Heyheyhey,” Joel shifted his hold on you. You’d sunk into the couch as he’d let you talk, your feet slung over his lap as he held you close. Now he sat up, turning your body to face him, eyes locked with yours. “Listen, baby– they ain’t takin’ you anywhere, you hear me? You’re an adult– you’re your own person now!”

“I know I’m askin’ a lot of you– you’re afraid of losin’ your family– I understand! Believe me I do.” His head tipped against your forehead, nose brushing gently against yours. “My folks, they—... well they ain’t talkin’ to me anymore. Don’t matter how famous I am, I’m a sinner to them.”

“Joel, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart aching for him.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about– it’s in the past and I got Tommy…” he trailed off, lifting his head, one large hand cupping your cheek. “Listen, my sweet girl, you’re the only girl I want. I want you to stay, but I want you to stay for your own sake. There ain’t nothin’ you owe your folks, okay? And I promise you I’ll always be there for you!”

For once you didn’t think.

Leaning closer you brushed your lips against Joel’s, and it made all the walls inside you break down. Humming in surprise he stalled before he relaxed against you, pulling you closer, his hand pressed into your cheek. There was no air, only Joel. His mustache tickled your upper lip and cupid’s bow in just the right way, and you realized just how much you’d missed him.

The kiss was languid like molasses, pulling you apart and putting you together again. Your hand found his neck, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck – tethering yourself to him. He broke away from your kiss, pressing soft tender kisses along your jaw, his hand brushing down the column of your neck.

“Come sit in my lap, sweet girl,” he whispered into your skin and a rush of electricity sped through your body. His hand fell to your waist while the other grabbed at the thick of your thigh – maneuvering you to straddle him.

“There you go, my good girl,” he praised, his hands rubbing it into your skin. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Joel leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to the spot where your jaw met your neck.

“Joel, I– ah!” you gasped as he brushed his tongue over that sensitive spot behind your ear. You felt his smile against your skin, teeth nipping at your sensitive skin before his lips brushed over your drumming pulse. He kissed his way along your jaw, nose bumping into yours as he hovered before your lips – daring you to kiss him again.

You took the bait, eyes flicking down to his lips before you pressed your own against him. You didn’t have much experience with love but being this close to Joel felt so right. Maybe this was what love was, you thought. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” you mumbled against his lips, your words swallowed by his kiss. A wide smile blossomed across Joel’s face at your words, and soon you were kissing teeth.

“Whatchu sayin’, sweet girl?” he grinned, raising one eyebrow at you as he leaned back.

You had to fight not to roll your eyes at him, at how he always found a way to playfully tease you. You weren’t joking though – you meant it, you really did.

“I’m in love with you too,” you told him sincerely, “I don’t know how to be in love, so you’ll have to be patient with me, but I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“I’ll always want you, sweet girl, always,” he promised, sealing it with a chaste kiss.

“I uh, I think I need to quit being your assistant too,” you said, biting your lip. “I can’t– I don’t really want to see you with other women… you can tell me about work, but I don’t want to see it.”

Joel squeezed your waist gently before rubbing soft circles over the spot. “That’s okay– thank you for tellin’ me,” he nodded, “I’ll talk to Ronald ‘n see if he knows if there’s any assistant jobs for you over in Hollywood.”

You slowly shook your head, “Ronald is a piece of shit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Joel chuckled, leaning his head against the back of the couch, “But he’s connected, and very convincin’.”

“He’d never do that for me,” you said.

“But he’ll do it for me– I’m his favorite client,” he grinned, leaning forward to cup your chin, before pulling his hand away.

“You just make him a lot of money,” you countered with a shrug, still sitting pretty in his lap.

“Do I now?” Joel asked, leaning closer with a cocky grin, “’n how do I do that, sweet girl?”

“Joel,” you sighed as his lips brushed over yours in another quick peck.

“Listen,” he started, “It’s been a long time since I’ve dated anyone ‘n I won’t lie, last time it got complicated ‘cause of my job. You know what the job entails, but I need you to talk to me– we need to be communicatin’, you need to tell me ‘f somethin’s wrong– just like you’re doing so well for me right now.”

“Ok, Joel,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss to your temple.

You stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, you didn’t know. But it felt nice to be so close, to just be in each other’s company, to enjoy being so in tune with another person without any ulterior motive. You didn’t know when, or who started it, but his lips were back over yours, moving in a perfect rhythm. Slow and drawn out, enjoying every second of being this close. When his tongue darted over your bottom lip, the kiss got messier, more passionate, like either of you couldn’t get enough of the other.

Under you, you felt Joel’s cock harden, the feel of what you did to him making your cunt ache for him. His capable hands had explored your clothed body, rubbing softly over the dips and curves before they’d landed on your ass. With a gentle rock, he’d moved you back and forth over him, catching your every moan with his mouth as your clit caught on his growing bulge.

It felt so good. Joel felt so good.

He moved you expertly over him, edging you closer to an edge you didn’t think you could reach this fast, your arousal soiling your panties with every grind. The kiss got sloppy, and you broke away, content little sighs escaping your mouth as you buried your face in Joel’s neck. He was everywhere. The scent of him, his warmth, his hard cock underneath you– it was all too much, and Joel knew it. Tightening his grip on your ass, he bucked his hips to meet your grinding, and you snapped. Mewling into his neck, you withered in his lap, legs shaking with your orgasm.

“Joel,” you managed to moan between the white hot ecstasy.

“There you go, baby– good girl, come for me, just like that,” he encouraged, rubbing his hand down your back in gentle strokes. His heavy hand rested over your back, pressing soft kisses to your temple as you came down, cooing at the aftershock.

With your mind somewhat back on earth you lifted your head from the home you’d made in his neck to place a soft kiss to his lips. Meanwhile your hands slipped between your bodies, clumsy fingers fiddling with the buttons on his jeans.

Joel broke your kiss, “Not here.” Confused, you pulled away, your eyebrows meeting in a furrow. “Let me fuck you properly… in my bed.”

Stumbling back into his hallway, your hands linked, he led you to his bedroom. His decorating was simple: a king-sized bed placed up against the back wall, paired with more of those large floor-to-ceiling windows gave him a view out into his backyard. An art piece hung above his bed, which looked suspiciously like a Warhol, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it with Joel’s hands on you.

He took his time undressing you– one painstaking item at a time, dotting kisses to each new piece of skin revealed. You were practically swimming in your arousal by the time he got to your panties. He had that look in his eyes, something dark and filled with lust as he sank to his knees before you. Never breaking eye contact, Joel leaned in, his lips brushing over the soft spot below your belly button – it made goosebumps prickle across your skin, and a hitch of breath to get stuck in your throat.  His lips skated downwards, running along the elastic of your panties, teeth nipping at the bow in the center.

It was like time stood still. Outside the setting sun filled Joel’s bedroom with a golden hue, and bathed him a soft warmth. The way he looked at you sent bolts of electricity through your body, into every nerve ending. He was everywhere, and you wanted him everywhere, wanted him inside.

His fingertips grazed the side of your thighs, finding the thin sides of your panties. His eyes locked with yours and you nodded along with a breathless, “Yes,” before he pulled them down. A smile filled with cocky happiness spread across his features when he hit a bit of a snag, your arousal and previous orgasm making the fabric stick to your cunt.

After helping you step out of your panties, Joel sat back on his heels as he admired you. His tight jeans clung to his thighs and your eyes couldn’t help but trail over him; over his strong muscles, his impressive bulge, his signature belt buckle and his scarlet red shirt with the deep V, straining against his shoulders. Naked and bare for him, he took in your body, those warm whiskey eyes memorizing every inch of it. The rough skin of his hand made you keen under his touch where it skated up your leg, following your form and parting your legs for him. Hooking his hand under your thigh, Joel placed it over his shoulder giving him a perfect view of your wet cunt, while your fingers found his curls to keep yourself steady.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” he whispered almost to himself, “it’s all messy f’me ain’t it?” He dragged his lips along your inner thigh, dark eyes locked with yours.

“Y-yes,” you managed to stutter out – your whole body alight under his touch.

“Yes, it is, baby,” he underlined his words with a finger swiping through your soaked folds, the sound filling the space between you. “You hear? Hear how messy?”

A heat traveled up your neck to your cheeks, making them burn under his playful teasing. “Joel,” you whined, your fingers tightening your grip on his curls. He continued his teasing, placing wet kisses to the inside of your other thigh. The coarse hair of his mustache brushing against the sensitive skin in just the right way. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, “you gonna let me take care of ya, sweet girl? Gonna let me show you I’m only yours?”

You were nodding even before he’d finished his sentence, “Yes,” you sighed. The ache between your legs burned so bright it almost hurt.

With your permission, Joel closed the teasing distance, and buried his face between your legs. He started with a kiss directly to your clit, before he dipped lower to taste you properly. Small and breathy sighs escaped your lips, your other hand not in his hair falling to his shoulder to keep you from keeling over.

The flat of his tongue lapped at the seam of your cunt, collecting your arousal on your tongue, as he hummed in contentment. It felt too good. He always made you feel so good. When the tip of his tongue teased your hole, you had to bite down on your bottom lip to fight back the moan about to escape you. Pressing your heel into his back, your body bucked by its own will, meeting the swipes and zigzags of his tongue.

“Joel,” you gasped when he found your clit again, a tense arousal building in your core. Spurred on by your noises, Joel sucked at your sensitive bud, laving his tongue over it in lazy strokes.

“Fuck,” you whispered, breath hitching in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut from the ecstasy. You were close now, your second orgasm approaching fast in Joel’s capable hands– or tongue.

“C’mon, baby,” he spoke between laps over your clit, urging you on, “come all over my tongue.”

A hand slid up to your ass, holding you flush to his face as you started to wither above him. His cheeks were warm from your soft thighs, his mustache slick with your arousal as he brought you closer and closer.

“There she goes, good girl,” he said with a ragged puff, encouraging you when the dam finally broke. His grip on your ass tightened, keeping you upright, as your whole body started to shake with your orgasm. Your grip on his hair was tight, tethering yourself to Joel, as you whimpered out breathy moans. Your hips bucked into his mouth, and the heel you dug into his back must’ve hurt, but your mind was entirely elsewhere, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

He pressed soft kisses to the fold where your thigh started as the aftershocks coursed through you, holding you steady while your chest heaved for breath as you tried to calm down.

“Joel,” you sighed contently, your hand brushing over his hair. He didn’t pull away like you thought he’d do, instead he placed another kiss to your sensitive clit. You jumped at the touch, a giggle catching in your throat.

“I’m not done witchu, sweet girl.” You could feel the smile against your skin, the way his lips smoothed the exposed surface, the sweetness of his smile practically dripping down your legs.

He helped you slide your leg off his shoulder, his big hands framing your waist as he rose from the floor with a restrained grunt. He looked a mess. Hair pulled in all directions, mustache glistening with your wetness and cheeks smeared with your arousal. Seeing what you’d done to him, you felt your cheeks heat up.

With his hands around your waist, he walked you backwards, until the back of your legs hit the end of the bed. He was crowding your space now, the familiar scent of him now mixed with you sent your brain into a mushy state. He pushed you forward gently, and you fell down on his bed, bouncing slightly.

Joel towered over you, still completely dressed. The thought of how bare you were for him, while he was still fully clothed, sent a tingle down your tummy to your core. He had the upper hand, and it felt good. It felt good to let him take control, to be able to shut your brain off for a while, to know he would take care of you.

Across his face, Joel wore his signature cocky grin as he stepped closer to the edge of the bed, the hardwood floor creaking slightly with ever step. You dipped your head to your shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes, and it made his smile wider. He stalked over you, his hand curling around your ankle before he playful yanked you towards him. A yelp fell from your lips, before a giggle broke lose.

“Oh, you ain’t gonna be gigglin’ like that when I’m done witchu,” he teased, lowering himself over your body.

“W-what are you gonna do to me?” you asked breathlessly as Joel dipped down to nip at the skin below your collarbone.

A deep chuckle rumbled across your skin between his kisses, “Gonna make you come, and come and come, sweet girl– wanna feel you squeezin’ around cock– make you forget your own name.”

“Shit, Joel,” you stuttered out as his lips closed around your nipple, “I-I haven’t–”

He cut you off, “That ain’t matter to me, sweet girl, I know you’ll be good f’me.”

And he was right; you wanted nothing more than to be good for him.

He kissed a trail down the valley of your breasts, across your tummy and the dip of your belly button until he reached your mound. Joel got comfortable on his knees, hooking his arms under your legs to manhandle you the way he wanted, spreading your thighs, and putting your wet cunt on display for him.

“Sweet fuckin’ pussy,” he pulled back and spat, and you felt the way his spit dripped down your clit, “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

With his thumb he smeared his spit through your folds, not that you needed it, you were plenty wet from your two previous orgasms. You jumped under him when he brushed your clit, puffed and sensitive as it was, and it made him chuckle.

“You’re so sensitive, aren’t you, sweet girl?” he coaxed, putting more pressure on your clit with his thumb.

Your moan got caught in your throat as you hurried to answer him, “Y-yes, Joel, so sensitive.” Heat and arousal flushed through your body, traveling through your bloodstream, and shading the world in a rose-tinted hue.

Another chuckle escaped Joel before he ducked down and brought his lips to your clit, while two of his fingers teased down your folds to edge at your opening. You felt your hole clench in anticipation, as a whimpering moan fell from your lips.

“This hole is just drippin’ for me ain’t it?” he teased, voice muffled by his lips around your clit.

You couldn’t think, so consumed by his touch and the way he made you feel. You managed to nod and breathe out a “Yes.” Joel hummed around your clit, the vibrations edging you on as his fingers prodded at your entrance.

Pushing forward he thrusted his fingers inside. It was a snug fit, but your arousal dripping over his knuckles made it easy. He immediately curled his fingers, expertly prodding at that sensitive spot inside that made you squirm underneath him and buck your hips involuntarily.  

“Shh,” Joel soothed you, fingers still pushing up, hitting something that made your leg shake involuntarily as he circled them against the delicate flesh.

Shit. Fuck.

You mewled, whiny breaths falling from your lips as you hurled quickly towards the edge, again. Joel didn’t let up, thrusting his fingers expertly into that perfectly sensitive spot. When your right leg couldn’t stop shaking, he slung his other arm over your stomach, keeping you in place for him.

“That’s it, sweet girl, that’s your g-spot, honey,” he cooed between lapping and sucking at your clit, “Are you gonna come again, baby? You can let go– ‘s okay.”

The added pressure of his arm sent your hurling towards your release. Your back arched off his bed at a particular perfect thrust; your breath coming out panting and breathless.

“Joel–” you heaved, “J-Joel, I-I’m—,” you couldn’t finish your thought. You clenched around his fingers, a pressure building like you’d never felt before – you felt like you were about to explode.

Joel sucked hard on your clit before he moved his lips off with a soft pop, “C’mon, honey,” he coaxed, stopping his thrusting fingers to massage at your g-spot, “Be a good girl f’me and come all over my fingers.”

With his permission you came with a silent cry, eyes squeezed tight as your whole body arched off the bed, your head pressed tightly into the mattress as you let it wash over you. It was like your body clenched and released all at the same time. Small tears trickled down your temples, your body shaking from the force of your orgasm. You gushed over his fingers, and Joel pulled his fingers from your wasted hole at the exact right moment, right as a stream of liquid released.

You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a cloud of ecstasy you’d never felt before – the feeling so intense, it made your eyes roll back. Beside you, you felt the bed dip. Still shaking from your orgasm, you heaved for your breath, trying to come down. Joel’s arms snaked their way around you, pushing you against his body as he cooed and hushed you.

“You’re alright, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your temple, “squirting all over my hand like a good girl.”

“Joel, I–” You were still catching your breath, still reeling from the intensity.

“You’re ok, baby.” 

He held you close until you’d fully calmed down, and your heartbeat had steadied. You let yourself be held, to just be. Joel pressed absentminded kisses to your skin. One on your cheek, another to the pulse of your neck, a third to your collarbone. He was amazing. He was yours.

“Thank you, Joel,” you finally spoke, “I’ve– I’ve never done that before, it… it felt really good.”

Joel pressed another kiss to your cheek, “You’re welcome, baby– you looked so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that.” 

He pressed another kiss to your cheek before he pulled away. Standing to his feet he stretched his back with a groan. You watched how his muscles moved underneath his shirt. He must’ve felt you watching him as he sent you a cocky smile over his shoulder before he padded towards the door of his en suite.

You turned onto your stomach, your eyebrows pulling together in a furrow as you asked him, “Where are you going?”

“Just gonna getchu ya somethin’ to clean up with,” he explained, nodding his head towards his en suite.

“But…” you trailed off, eyes flicking sheepishly towards his bulge, his cock rock hard and straining against his jeans.

He caught your eye, his trademark cocky smirk spreading. Joel turned his body towards you, and let you ogle him as he crept towards you. “But, what?” he questioned, one teasing eyebrow raised.

“What about…” you bit your lip, heat flushing your cheeks. He’d made you squirt for fucks sake, and you still couldn’t ask him for his cock.

“What about what?” he teased, standing at the end of the bed, his hard cock now eye level with how you were sitting. He watched you from above, how you flicked your eyes from his face to his cock, trying to tell him what you wanted without saying the words.

“You want more, greedy girl?” he questioned, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him, “You want my cock, don’t you?”

You nodded in his hand, big moony eyes looking up at him. Joel shifted his weight, his hand traveling from your cheek to your chin, letting his thumb run over it in a smooth motion.

“Take my clothes off,” he ordered.

Sitting up on your knees, your hands started fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Above you, Joel watched you – warm eyes studying you. Unbuttoning the last button, you placed a nervous hand to his chest, right above his heart. Under your palm you felt it beat, fast paced, but steady. With a scrunch of your face, you looked to him.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, fitting his own hand over yours, “I’m crazy ‘bout you, sweet girl.” He dipped his head to fit a soft kiss to your lips.

He helped you with the rest of his clothes. His shirt hitting the floor first, then followed by his belt and his jeans, and lastly his socks. Clad only in his white briefs, you took him in. His handsome face, his neat mustache, his tanned skin and broad shoulders, but most importantly (at least in this moment), his aching cock.

“Take it out f’me,” he ordered.

Obeying his command, your fingers dug into the elastic. His rock hard cock strained desperately against the cotton, a wet spot had formed where the head was, turning the fabric translucent from precum. You pulled his briefs down his legs, his impressive cock springing free to bob in front of your face. Joel stepped out of his underwear, kicking them across the floor to the pile with his other clothes.

You moved up the bed as he crawled over you, parting your legs for him to fit between as you laid back against his fluffy pillows, the scent of him overwhelming. His cock rubbed against your cunt, the head catching on your clit as he adjusted himself over you.

“This whatchu wanted, sweet girl?” he asked, guiding the tip through your folds, and coating himself in your arousal.

“Y-yes, Joel, please,” you begged, “want you.”

Between your legs he jerked himself off, spreading your wetness all over his cock, a slick wet sound squelching from his fist. Joel’s eyes trailed over your body before he shook his head.

“Sit up,” he said.

Confused, you did as he said, sitting up on your knees before him. Joel shifted on the bed, leaning his back against the headrest, his impressive cock standing to attention in his lap.

“C’mon baby, come take what’s yours,” he said, reaching his hand out to you and helping you straddle his thighs.

Looking between your bodies, you couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. Each time you’d had sex, Joel was always the one in control, but now… Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, insecurity an uninvited guest in the home you’d made in Joel’s bed.

Warm hands cupped your cheeks then, lifting your head to meet his. “You’re alright, my sweet girl,” he told you, fitting his lips against yours, “wanna feel you squeezin’ my cock.”

With Joel’s guiding hands, you lifted yourself over him as he guided the head towards your entrance, the head of his cock pushing through your folds. “Take it slow ‘f ya need it,” he told you, reassuring you. With a timid nod, you shifted your weight slightly, steading yourself on your knees before you slowly sunk down on him.

Your mouth dropped open at the stretch, never really getting used to the size of him – even with the thorough prep he’d done to you. You took your time, easing yourself down on him one inch at a time till he was buried to the hilt in your cunt. He was so deep inside you in this position, you felt him in your tummy, too deep for a cock to reach.

“Shit,” you cursed with a whimper, feeling Joel’s thighs press against your bare ass.

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, knew you could do it– takin’ all that cock f’me,” he praised as you tried to adjust to the feeling of him reaching so deep inside you. His hand landed on the small of your back, pushing you closer to his chest and making you rock forward in his lap.

“Y-you’re so deep like this,” you stuttered, draping your arms around his shoulder to steady yourself as his cock hit a new angle inside you, and making you see stars.

“I know, sweet girl, I know– feels good, don’t it?” he cooed, and rocked you in his lap again. Your clit caught in the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and it made a gush of arousal drip down his cock.

You nodded your head desperately. It felt good, it felt really good.

“Why don’t ya bounce on it f’me, honey– make yourself come.”

Again, you obeyed.

You started slow, inching upwards just a tad before grinding down on him again, working yourself up and down his length at your own pace. Below you, Joel watched you closely, a lazy smile spread across his face. His hand on your waist helped guide you, and soon you were bouncing on his cock like an eager little bunny.

“Fuck,” you cursed between moans.

The drag of his cock inside you felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. Love and ecstasy and pleasure – all mixed up into one infatuated feeling. Under you, Joel groaned unabashedly. The noises he made, deep and rugged as he started to meet your bouncing with his own thrusts, building a rising rhythm of pleasure.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he groaned, “squeezin’ my cock so good.”

“Uh-uh,” you nodded, mind gone completely blank.

The feeling of him filling you just right with every thrust and hitting that special spot inside you, were almost too much to handle. Your thighs burned with the effort, and you didn’t know how much more you could take before he was hurling you over the edge for the fourth time.

“You gonna come again, sweet girl? Gonna be my good girl and give me ’nother? Give that big cock a nice squeeze?” he encouraged.

You were far too gone to say anything coherent and when his thumb found your clit, you knew you were in trouble. Your legs shook from pleasure and the strain of your bouncing, and you fell forward, your head finding a home in his neck as you gasped. Joel worked quickly and expertly, shifting your weight on his lap so he could thrust into you from below. Breathy whiny moans escaped you in quick succession, and then you were falling apart for him with a cry.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you through gritted teeth as you withered in his lap, squirming and gasping in his lap. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around his cock as you rode through your orgasm. Under you, Joel’s breath became shallower and his grunts more restrained, and even in your cloud of ecstasy you knew he was close.

“Fuck, ‘m comin’” he let out, quickly lifting you off his cock before he spilled hot cum onto your tummy and mound, his panting moan deep and guttural. It was hot and sticky and suffocating in a good way.

As the sun set over LA, you and Joel found refuge in each other under the pink and orange sky. Your panting breaths slowed to a still comforting silence as you held each other close, and you knew that there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

You had been unable to see it before, or simply just unwilling to let yourself see it, but the answer had been on the tip of your tongue all along. Joel had been the missing piece of your puzzle, the part you'd never even known you'd needed until he'd slotted himself securely into that space, completing your life in a way your family had never been able to. Being with Joel felt right, and if there was one thing you did know, was that no matter what your uncle said or did, or what your parents would think, you were done making sacrifices.  And so you laid in Joel's arms, your chest unraveling with the relief of the knowledge that for maybe the first time in your life, you were making a choice entirely for yourself, and that, given the chance, you would choose Joel, every day, for the rest of your life.

and that's the end <3 if this was a movie we'd slowly fade to a drone shot of LA while cher's cover of "lay baby lay" starts playing as the credits roll over the cityscape.

i hope this was okay, and that the ending was satisfying and that you liked it? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Sanji getting told off for the pantry rendezvous with you…

A/n: Part 1 got such love. It was only fair to see the other side.

Also, I read every single one of your tags and comments. I’m slow to reply but I see you x

Zeff had already spoken to you about what had transpired. The next stop was his lovestruck sous-chef who constantly drove him up the Baratie walls.

Sanji couldn’t understand why Zeff kept pulling him away from you. He’d have thought that the man had experienced some form of attachment in his younger days to understand better. But clearly, his shitty restaurant was more important.

Huffing, Sanji wiped his hands on a clean towel and grabbed a tomato from the bowl of vegetables in dire need of prep work. Quietly, he began dicing. His thoughts slowly drifting off to when he stood close to you only moments ago.

Thunk, thunk… thunk.

The unmistakable wooden leg echoed against the kitchen tiles, stopping when they reached his station. Sanji didn’t need to look up - he knew Zeff was at the other end of the counter watching silently.

A few beats passed and even the blonde-cook disliked the lingering audience. “If you’re going to stand there all day, I could use an extra pair of hands.” He said.

“That’s funny because I was thinking of feeding yours to the sharks.” Zeff snapped.

The cook slowed his knife movements and squinted. “That’s a bit extreme.”

“Trust me it’s lenient compared to the other bit I had in mind.”

Picking up a carrot, Sanji shook his head and began chopping. “I’m not sure what you’re upset about, I hardly distracted Y/n enough to slow the line.” He defended preemptively.

Zeff crossed his arms. “I’m not here to talk about your distractions although that’s high on my very long list.” At this point he’d have a full-volumed series.

The blonde-chef had worked his way through at least another two more vegetables and was busy with a cauliflower. He was biting back the urge to tell the old man that he was the one being distracting.

“You use your hands to cook in this kitchen, Little Eggplant. You don’t use them to fool around in the pantry.”

The blade missed the leaf and slammed against the chopping board. Sanji’s reaction was almost the same as yours. Muscles stiff, jaw slack as if he had been confronted with the Lord of the Coast.

How had he found out? Granted that neither of you were completely silent but you had been quiet enough to not cause any stirs from the sleeping crew.

Zeff narrowed his eyes. He could see gears ticking away in the young man’s eyes.

“Apples.” He stated which only confused the poor boy. “They sit in baskets at the top of the shelf except when they’re on the floor.”

Sanji cleared his throat and immediately deflected. “How do you know it wasn’t a drunken Patty stumbling around in there?”

The blue-haired chef was too far away to hear his name be thrown into the mix. A blessing in disguise otherwise Sanji risked a saucepan to the head.

“He’s never been that drunk.” Zeff argued.

“Well, we’re on a floating restaurant.” Sanji tried again. “It’s hardly stable ground so you know, it rocks.”

Zeff was not impressed. He moved around the counter and grabbed Sanji’s tie, pulling him through the bustling kitchen. None of the other cooks seemed to have noticed in the frenzy of the lunch rush.

It wasn’t a far walk and Zeff finally came to a stop at the scene of the crime. He walked Sanji inside the large space of the pantry and then stepped forward, pointing at the base of the metal shelving units.

“Because of your little stunt, the bolts that ground the shelves to the floor need to be repaired - trust me Little Eggplant, the Baratie doesn’t rock that hard.”

A small glaze fell over Sanji’s eyes as his mind recalled exactly why those shelves suffered. He had tried so hard to be gentle but you were far too intoxicating when he-

“Oi!” Zeff snapped his fingers loudly, a scowl on his face. “That wasn’t a cue for you to take a trip memory lane.”

When Sanji refocused and calmed the warm feeling in his chest, he noticed that the shelves were empty. Not an apple basket in sight. An oddity for a restaurant of this scale.

“Uh, where are the supplies?” He asked curiously.

The Head Chef huffed. “I’ve had them moved temporarily to fix the damage you caused. And so place can be thoroughly cleaned.”

He turned away from the boy to examine the framework. In all his years, these shelves had stood their ground. Now, after the romantic antics of two of his best cooks, they needed repairing.

He needed to find solution for the Sanji-Y/n problem otherwise no surface of the Baratie would be safe.

Behind him, Sanji’s eyes brightened as a thought came to mind. “So you’re saying that the space will be unoccupied for a while?”

Zeff nodded with a long sigh. “It’ll be a few weeks at least until-” when he finally caught on to what Sanji was thinking, his eyes almost popped out of his head. Whipping around, Zeff pointed at him sternly. “Don’t be getting any ideas, Little Eggplant!” He shouted. “Hands to yourself or you lose them, am I clear?”

Sanji held his hands up in surrender and said nothing. The moustached man stormed out of the pantry, grumbling about his blonde-haired headache. He had had enough of loved-up cooks for one morning.

As Zeff began barking orders about the kitchen once more, Sanji stayed back in the pantry for a little while longer.

He glanced at the shelves and their askew hinges, letting out a small hum. Pride filled his chest and then burst with a huge surge of love for you. Sanji couldn’t wait until the lunch rush was over to find you once more.

What difference would it make if the repairmen found some broken shelves instead?

Masterlist here (for more One Piece)

[doll3tt33]

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ♡

(colin zabel x under arrest!reader)

Summary: once again, you find yourself being arrested by Colin, adding to his piling stress from an unsolved case. However, you discover that a tiny favor for the detective might bring him some much needed cheer…

Wordcount: 5.7k

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), car sex, coaxing, reader is under the influence of alcohol, brief mention of a bar fight, aggressive and rude reader, rly vague implied age gap, technically abuse of authority (it’s obvious, but I’m still putting it out there. I advise not to read if any of this makes you uncomfortable)

A/N: sorry for the major inactivity guys, I’ve been busy! And this fic ended up being longer than I expected, but I hope it’s good enough quality. My first ever smut, so hope u guys enjoy <3 (also sorry if any typos btw T^T)

You stood motionless, reeling from the adrenaline coursing through your veins as the alcohol's effects faded. The rush of emotion receded to an eerie calm. As your vision adjusted in the dim light, the scene came into focus - onlookers surrounded you and a woman now being helped from the floor. Through the buzz still clouding your mind, one detail emerged with painful clarity: her bruised and bloodied face, a stark reminder of the harm just caused in a moment of impaired impulse and from your god awful temper.

Now the woman who you beaten black and blue, almost to the point of passing out, wasn't the focal point for dispelling the haze of your impulsive rage. Nah, this lady had it coming when she slut shamed you for being oh-so-bold enough to wear a tank top tonight. No, it was the bright flashing hues of blue and red seeping through the windows that acted as your wakeup call.

Just like that, a realization hit with sobering clarity - “Shit. Cops.” Without pause, you shoved through the crowd, desperation driving every move. Bursting through the door, the frigid night air raised goosebumps across your skin. Damnit, maybe the tank top wasn’t the best choice after all. Intoxicated or not, you were in no shape for an arrest. Stumbling at first, you found your footing and picked up speed, putting distance between yourself and the scene of the incident you started. You were gonna make it through! You were gonna outrun those pigs and they would never get their grubby hands onto you!

…That was until, a loathsome voice sounded from behind.

“Hey- hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

Before you knew it, you felt hands locked around your arms, yanking you to a halt. The telltale jingle of metal broke through your panic and with a sharp click, cold steel encircled your wrists. A glance back confirmed your dread. You weren’t being handcuffed by just any stinking cop - it was that good for nothing detective Colin Zabel arresting you once more, and for what, the third time this week? That’s one hell of a streak.

You sighed inwardly, the fight draining from your limbs, knowing any attempt in resisting would be in vain. “Goddammit Zabel, can’t you give it a rest?…” you muttered under your breath, as he hauled you back to the police car.

"I know, I know - save your excuses," Colin cut you off wearily, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Jus’… don’t start, ‘Kay? Do me a solid and quietly get in the car.” He opened the car door to the backseat, gesturing for you to step inside. Despite his perpetual mask of affability, you detected an edge of irritation - his good humor and patience clearly worn down by your repeated encounters.

“Whatever man…” you sighed as the door clamped shut with finality. Through the window you watched Colin slip into the driver's seat, releasing a long exhale as if to shed the stress of your latest encounter. At least you provided some diversion from his endless paperwork, though you doubted he'd admit as much.

True to his by-the-book nature, he slinked the seatbelt over himself, securing it with an assured click. Out of habit, he craned his neck over his shoulder, asking out of the goodwill of his heart. “Oh! Almost forgot. Do ya need a lil’ hand with fastening your seatbelt too?“ he offered warmly, “Don’t want any extra accidents happening tonight, am I right or am I right?” A hearty chuckle followed, dying abruptly once he took in your expression - eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line.

“Fuck off Zabel.” you growled in response, fixing your stare out the window. He felt tension coil in his gut but forced it down with a hard gulp. As a veteran officer, he had faced far worse than you, yet something about your unpredictable defiance unsettled him. For a moment, under your glare, an angry retort rose to his lips but he bit it back, sensing it would only stoke the flames. Best to let the dust settle, he decided. Starting the car, he pointedly kept his eyes forward and drove in loaded silence.

“Alriiiighty then, no seatbelt it is. I’m just gonna… ah- y’know….” He cleared his throat, voice petering off into a nonsensical mumble as he shifted gears.

An uncomfortable hush fell over the car, only the revving of the engine permeating the stillness. Colin tapped the wheel, wishing for a distraction from the tension. His mind raced through possible conversation starters but came up blank. A stolen glance in the mirror found your stony profile unchanged. With a sigh, he focused back to the road, flicking on the radio more for the static noise than any musical preference.

Colin hummed softly to fill the silence, earning another kick from the backseat - your fourth such outburst. He was the pinnacle of what it meant to be a pushover, but he still stood his ground when needed to… in his own unique way. “H-Hey, Cut it out kid! And be nice,” he let out a weary sigh, peeking up at your vexed form through the rearview mirror “You know, I’m not a fan of this attitude you’ve got going on. Haven’t been for the past week.”

You sank lower into the seat, glowering. “First of all, old man, lay off the ‘kid’ crap. I’m not a child.” You rolled your eyes at his feeble attempt at reprimand.

Colin bit back another retort, clenching his jaw. Pride demanded he have the last word, if only to reclaim a shred of dignity in his own vehicle. “Hm no, I think I’ll call you a kid. ‘Cause you know why? You’re acting like one, like right now.” he replied evenly, bubbling frustration leaking through his amicable veneer, yet he still maintained some semblance of civility between him and your not-so-good of a temper.

As you drew your breath to speak, Colin beat you to it. “Look- all I’m sayin’ is, this isn’t good for you. This is the third time this week I’m haulin’ you in here. The third time!” Weariness tinged his laughter as he splayed his fingers out in front of him, only to reclaim the steering wheel in a swift motion. “Not only is this not doing you any favors kid—-“

“I said don’t call me kid.” You interjected sharply, cutting him off this time.

Colin continued on autopilot, fatigue chipping away at his usual cheer. “It's also not doing me any favors either. I've got a case to crack, but Mare - my partner - thought it’d be best if I dealt with you while she took charge of the investigation for the night…”

His shoulders slumped, eyes downcast as a cloud of disappointment settled in. As a county detective, he longed to prove himself with this investigation, not play referee to petty disputes. But saying no had never come easy, especially when others mistook his calm demeanor as weakness.

Silently, your eyes veered away from the passing scenery outside the car window, finally taking notice of his careworn features in the mirror. Attuned to the new lines of fatigue etched upon his face, you perhaps began to understand that this was wearing him too.

“Must suck being everyone’s errand boy.” You observed, tone lacking its usual bite.

Colin offered a tired nod. “Comes with the job, I guess…” his words trailed off, accompanied by a somber tone as his gaze returned to the road. “But y’know what they say- it is what it is.” he added softly, punctuating the statement with a self deprecating laugh.

Surprisingly, a twinge of sympathy tugged at your heart - a rare reaction to the shithead county detective. For all his attempts at camaraderie, which admittedly grated, you had to respect his resilience in the face of your unrelenting hostility. Hell, that time you clocked him during arrest, most would've thrown the book - but not Colin. His patience and optimism seemed a superpower, weathering your worst without breaking stride.

A strange blend of sympathy and guilt surged through you, as the realization struck you hard like a freight train - you had subjected the poor detective to a relentless barrage of undeserved hardship, oblivious to the weight of his personal burdens. Your chest tightened, and a foreign sensation stirred deep within as the reflection in the rearview mirror held your gaze captive.

The need for redemption gnawed at your conscience, but how could you possibly make things right? You've been a real pain in the ass to him for a good while now. Within the depths of your alcohol-induced haze, a daring idea began to take shape - could you perhaps make amends through a little bit of... shared pleasure?

It was pure insanity. Drunken impulses (and drunken you) are the epitome of idiocy. Vivid images flooded your thoughts, projecting the sheer horror that would contort his face if you dared to make a move now. It was likely that he hadn't experienced the touch of a woman in quite some time. And yet, that was precisely the point. The poor guy may have been deprived of any intimate encounters since his fiancée abruptly left him, and the growing urge within compelled you to do something about it.

Undeterred, an unwavering determination fueled your decision to make a bold move and test the waters. Shattering the silence, you adopted an uncharacteristically sweet tone to conceal your true intentions. "Hey Colin, think I could sit up front? It's kinda cramped back here."

Colin glanced over, clearly skeptical of your politeness given past rides. "Not sure that's protocol..." he began, ever the rule-follower.

Your lips formed a slight pout, an innocent plea. "Aw c’mon, I'm starting to feel queasy. Just to the station, what's the harm?"

“Uhh….”

Colin's head snapped in your direction, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized your expression. Despite his suspicion, a flicker of genuine concern crossed his face. The thought of you unleashing your 'gastric distress' all over his car seemed to be a genuine fear he really wanted to avoid. He did not need an extra pukefest tonight.

Reluctantly, he caved in to your request, his voice colored with a mix of resignation and caution. "Ah, jeez... Look, you're not supposed to sit in the front, but fine, I'll make an exception this time." He maneuvered the car to the side of the road, stepping out to open the door for you. As you settled into the passenger seat, he retook his place beside you.

"Jus' promise me you won't end up throwing up in the car, 'cause I'm not looking forward to cleaning up that mess." With a playful smirk, he wagged his finger at you, but there was an underlying seriousness to his words.

"Chillaaaax, Colin. Don’t even worry, you won't see me hurling tonight. I've got it all under control," you declared, gracing him with a reassuring smile. The unexpected warmth of your expression caught him off guard, contrasting sharply with your usual snarky demeanor and the piercing death stares he had grown accustomed to.

However, Colin’s initial reservations melted away, reciprocating the gesture as a warm smile played across his face. He resumed his position behind the wheel, ready to continue the drive. But just as he was about to press the gas pedal, you captured the moment and took action. It was officially reckless business o’ clock. You sank down from the car seat, your knees grazing along the surface as you shifted toward the detective.

Colin's eyes widened comically, his mouth agape, utterly taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. "K-Kid, what on earth are you—"

Cutting him off, your slurred words emerged with a hushed urgency. "Shush. And I told you not to call me kid. Just wait, let me..."

Your words trailed off as you grappled with the cramped space of the car. Hindered by the handcuffs that still restricted your movement, you struggled to find a way to support yourself without the use of your arms. Nonetheless, you persevered, inching your way beneath the steering wheel and between Colin's legs.

You released a sigh of relief as you settled comfortably onto your knees. “Phew! Crawling around is no walk in the park without some arms. Anyways...”

“Hi.” An impish grin spread across your face, your eyes flickering upwards, locking with his apprehensive gaze.

“Wow hi, haha!“ his smile, already awkward, stiffened further as he involuntarily sunk deeper into the car seat, attempting to create as much distance as possible between the two of you. “So um… is everything okay? I mean, what’s happening right now? What are you… doin’ down there, specifically?” His words tumbled out, laden with confusion and a touch of concern.

“What do you think I’m doing?” you giggled, thoroughly amused by the sight of the detective squirming uneasily in his seat. A delicate flush of pink tinted his cheeks, a detail that didn't escape your notice. Your voice dropped into a low purr as you continued, relishing in the tension that swirled between you. “Weeeell... I had this little thought, you see. I wanted to make amends. You know, for being such a pain to you over the past few weeks."

A coy little shrug followed your words, as if you were merely toying with the idea. “And I figured, what better way than to help my favorite detective relieve summa his stress off his shoulders.”

You awaited his response with a wide grin, but all that greeted you was a dumbfounded Colin, his face now aflame with a deep shade of crimson blush, eyes wide and unblinking. The sound of his breathing, short and heavy, filled the tense silence, leaving you to wonder if perhaps you had made him uncomfortable. Although a certain part of his body seemed to betray a different sentiment, stiffened and undeniable.

As both of your gazes inadvertently dropped, your eyes locked onto a conspicuous tent forming beneath Colin's slacks. A mix of surprise and amusement flickered across your face, mirrored by the silent murmuring of the word 'crap' that escaped his lips. “Hah… that’s uh- real strange. Don’t know why that’s happening,” He gulped. “Good ol’ keys in the pocket, huh? They’re a pain, especially when they decide to stick out in weird angles. It's like, whoa, things can get a little… funny, you know? Awkward, even.” He added, his voice revealing a hint of panic as he desperately attempted to maintain his composure, all while his raging boner was in plain sight.

“Oh for god’s sake,” you groaned, impatience tracing a light furrow on your brow as the restraint of the handcuffs exacerbated your frustration. "You're not seriously trying to play dumb with me, are you?" You said, annoyance and amusement bleeding through your words. The power dynamics had shifted, leaving you unable to take the lead, and instead relying on the nervous wreck of a detective before you.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath to steady fraying nerves. Determined to take a gentler approach, you decided to navigate this delicate situation with care.

"Come on, Col..." you cooed, leaning forward as far as you could, resting your head gently on his thigh. Your voice took on a soft, persuasive tone. "Let me do this for you." With a subtle flutter of your lashes, you batted your eyes, mimicking the innocent charm of a puppy seeking its owner's attention. Colin flinched, his knees threatening to buckle under the weight of your sudden touch. Yet, he remained motionless, his eyes fixed upon you in mounting suspense.

A smile curled upon your lips as you sensed his lack of immediate resistance, emboldening you to press forward with your gentle coercion. "Just once," you whispered, your voice filled with earnestness. "Let me do this once, and I promise you'll feel so much better afterward."

“..Jesus, I don’t know ‘bout this… I….” Colin mumbled, trailing off with a heavy uncertainty.

He sat frozen in place, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. His bottom lip bore the marks of his nervous chewing, while his brows knitted together in a hesitant frown as he weighed his options.

He knew he shouldn't, he reaaaally should not. It was morally wrong, a breach of professionalism, and could jeopardize his career if discovered. His eyes darted frantically outside the car's windows, scanning the desolate darkness that enveloped the streets in secrecy. But technically, no one would find out, would they?

And god, it had been a long while since he had been with a woman, especially since the bitter end of his engagement. And there you were right now, on your knees, your eagerness to please him palpable. Just the sight of you pouting sent his stomach into a frenzy of uncontrollable flutters, a reaction unexpected even from someone with a volatile temper like yours.

Bewitched by your feminine wiles, he barely registered how his hand had crept onto the top of your head, his thumb caressing your scalp with a tender touch. The throbbing heat in his pants intensified, overpowering any remaining restraint. With cautious swiftness, he glanced around, scanning the surroundings for any prying eyes, before his gaze settled back on your face - your smile, a comforting anchor in the sea of his conflicting emotions.

He sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "F-Fine... Jus’ promise me you won't breathe a word of this to anyone, alright?" His hands returned to himself, fingers trembling as he loosened the clasp of his belt. The once ironclad resolve that had held him together began to crumble like fragile dust, succumbing to the pull of the moment.

“You have my word Col.” you reassured, your voice a soft murmur teeming with exhilaration.

Colin proceeded to undo his pants, the sound of the zipper echoing through the confined space. As he shoved them down, the dim glow of a distant streetlight seeped through the car window, casting a faint illumination on the scene. You couldn’t see all that clearly in the dark, but you did catch a glimpse of the outline of his cock protruding beneath his boxers, the fabric adorned with a telltale wet spot. Needless to say, he was far more excited than he was letting on.

Your mouth watered in anticipation, your core aching with need. Your senses heightened, thighs instinctively clenching as you awaited his next move. But just as Colin's thumb looped under his waistband, he hesitated, uncertainty settling over him like an icy veil. Restraints confined your hands, the itch of frustration crawling beneath your skin. In this moment, the immobility of your arms felt like a punishment far worse than being thrown into a holding cell later that night.

Unable to physically intervene, you relied on the power of your voice to guide the hesitant detective. "It's alright," you coaxed, tone laced with soothing encouragement. "Shake those nerves off, just this once. No one will ever find out..."

Colin's response came in the form of a hesitant nod - quick, uncertain, but nevertheless a nod. With painstaking slowness, he mustered the courage to give his boxers a small tug, gradually lowering them at an agonizingly slow pace. The measured movements seemed almost teasing, as if he were intentionally prolonging the moment. However, the truth was he basically personified a bundle of nerves, as though he was a schoolboy experiencing the thrill of his first make out session, unsure and skittish in his actions.

"How about we ditch these stupid handcuffs and let me take charge?" you suggested, your tone cutting through the air with an assertiveness that bordered on demand. Colin's head snapped up, surprise briefly shadowing his features as he registered the sudden shift in your demeanor and the scowl that tugged your lips. He couldn't entirely fault you for your impatience - he had been taking his sweet time with dropping his boxers. However, a part of him harbored a lack of trust, as dubious as it may sound. The restraints provided a sense of comfort and security, keeping you in check.

Colin's throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Ehh... sorry, but that's a no-can-do," he deflected your proposal with his trademark easy smile. "You understand, right? It's nothing personal. Jus’ think it's... better this way."

“Ugh…” you grunted, eyes rolling in annoyance. You relinquished your desires, holding back any further comments or demands.

After what felt like an eternity, Colin steeled his nerves enough to continue, no longer willing to delay the inevitable. In a swift motion, he grasped the waistband, sliding it down until his cock sprang free, bobbing slightly in the air. Your gaze, once fixated on the crop of brown pubic hair adorning the base, now traced the veiny pathways that ran along his thick length, leading to the swollen tip—flushed red and leaking. For a seemingly meek police detective, he sure had a nice looking dick.

You smiled as you leaned in, tilting your head closer. Your eyes, brimming with excitement, darted back and forth between his face and his erection, gauging his reaction as you tested the boundaries. Despite his initial apprehension, there was a glimmer of delight in his gaze. Encouraged by his response, you inched closer, your lips ghosting the underside of his shaft, your warm breath teasing his sensitive skin, coaxing it to twitch in response.

Colin squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the moment. “Crap, look- in case it wasn’t obvious enough, it’s been a while for me,” he blurted out shakily, already roused by the sight of your pretty lips caressing the heat emanating from his dick, sending a wave of warmth sweeping over him. His legs parted further, an unspoken invitation for you to draw nearer. “So sorry if I…. Y’know.. too early.” He stammered with urgency.

“I mean, you already look like you’re ready to burst before I even touched you,” you shrugged with a light chuckle. “But I kinda like that.” You flashed him a playful smirk.

He remained speechless, his face flustered and turned away, a deep red painting his features in the stillness of the moment.

Regardless, you took the plunge, gently pressing your lips against the sensitive underside of his cock. A soft, almost inaudible moan escaped his lips, a clear sign for you to continue. From top to bottom, you peppered his length with tender, soothing kisses. His hand immediately reached for your hair, his fingers finding solace in the roots to distract himself from cumming too fast, careful not to exert too much force and risk hurting you.

"And sorry about the whole hair-holding thing. I, uh... need something to hold onto when I'm really focused," he confessed, his bashful laughter intertwining with his words. His face still burning a deep scarlet hue, the admission both vulnerable and endearing. "Habit," he added, his lips twitching with shy sincerity.

“You can grip my hair as hard as you want. I don’t mind a little rough treatment.” you shot a wink, a giggle escaping your lips. Lowering your head, you tilted it to the side, your tongue tracing a stripe against his sensitive balls. Eagerly, you pressed your face forward, your lips latching onto one of them, suckling on it with a gentle yet insistent rhythm, each release elicited a small pop.

“Mmff!— fuck..” Colin‘s jaw went slack, a deep groan rolling off his tongue the moment your mouth made contact, his resistance melting away under the spell of your touch. His dark brown eyes dilated, glazing over your form below him. “Yeah, jus’ like that… jus’ like that…” he managed to utter out, his heaving breaths punctuated by muttered words of approval. His fingers entwined with your hair, massaging the crown of your head in a visceral gesture of pleasure.

“Ooh, you like that don’t you?” you remarked, a playful lilt in your voice as you pulled back slightly, savoring the sight of the detective's face contorting with undeniable bliss. “I wanna hear it baby, tell me how much you needed this.” You crooned, face colored with a teasing grin.

“Okay-okay fine, I won’t lie…” Colin huffed, admittance causing eyes to flutter away. Amused, you chuckled, flattening your tongue against his length, gliding it along a long and deliberate path, coaxing the rest of his words to spill out. A delicious shiver of electricity ran down his spine, sending a cascade of goosebumps rippling down his skin from his erection being teased. “Agh!- y-yes I needed this, I really… really needed this.” he babbled out, his breath hitching with the weight of his confession.

Satisfied, you continued. Your kisses swept from the base and drifted all the way up to the tip of his cock, tongue salty with precum as it expertly caressed the ridges. Colin's body quivered, responding with an urgent jerk of his hips, a wordless plea for you to take his cock into the warm and wet comfort of your mouth. You could feel the urgency in his veins buzz with an electric fervor, beckoning you to go further. For the sake of soothing him, you pressed your lips right onto the swollen head, treating him to small kitten licks on his sensitive slit.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous...” Colin moaned, teetering on the edge of a whimper. His hips bucked forward once more, ramming his tip deeper into your mouth. Each squirm of his body against the supple leather of the car seat produced a small squeak, almost serving as a subtle backdrop to the moment. “God, you scare the living crap outta me... but f-fuck, you’re sososo p-pretty!” He choked, another whimper caught in his throat.

“Mhm… that’s what I do best detective…” you mumbled with a full mouth, the warmth of his fluids clinging to your breath.

The evidence of your arousal was just as indisputable as his, your panties most definitely soaked from the act of using your mouth on the detective alone, cunt weeping from the lewd noises leaving him with each stroke. Your lips glided further down along him, accommodating his warm slickness as you relaxed your jaw. “Ohmygod- holy shit you feel so good...” he groaned. He slumped back against the backrest, head lolling over his shoulder as he fought to stifle a moan. “Ngh- so good f-for me…”

Despite the discomfort that knotted your knees and the soreness that gnawed at your back from kneeling on the unforgiving car floor longer than you should’ve (all while handcuffed too!), that fiery bundle of elation simmering in your belly powered you through it. After all, Colin was all you could focus on, eclipsing everything else. His raw groans, the incoherent praises that spilled from his mouth, and the way your name danced off his tongue like silk - it was all you needed in the moment, utterly invading every fiber of your being.

However, it wasn't just you who was losing yourself in the moment. Colin's mind short-circuited completely, overwhelmed by the mounting pleasure that had him seeing dazzling stars. Your heavenly skills had transformed his body into a molten state of arousal, practically dissolving into a puddle of liquid. In this state, his thoughts scrambled like a glitching, outdated computer, and your lack-of-hands situation compelled him to take the reins in a mindless frenzy.

"Hope ya’ don't mind if I jus’..." he mumbled hoarsely, his words stumbling out spontaneously. His hands cradled the sides of your head, anchoring you in place, hovering inches above his seat to steady his rhythm. His cock delved deeper into the confines of your throat as his hips undulated to the flow of his ragged panting. His heart galloped like a wild stallion, synchronizing with the rhythm you created, while he sunk himself further into the depths of your wet heat.

“Mmh!- ‘m almost there! Need a lil’ l-longer.” Colin sputtered out, throat straining to keep as quiet as possible. He could see the glistening of tears stinging your eyes, whimpers muffled out around him. He truly never intended to subject your poor mouth to such rough treatment, his tip bullying the back of your throat with each jerky thrust until it was sore, pushing so deep that your nose buried itself in the tufts of hair on his pelvis. Despite the guilt welling up in him, he couldn’t help himself at this point. His body was now like a machine, moving on its own accord to milk every ounce of pleasure he could get.

Even then, you didn’t even break eye contact, not even once. Not when this police detective who nursed a hidden disdain for your tempestuous presence behind faux smiles, was now coming undone right before you - His once neatly styled chestnut brown hair now clung to his sweat-drenched forehead, strands falling over his flushed, pale features. His lips, now parted and glistening, revealed a glimpse of vulnerability, while his doe eyes sparkled with a feverish glimmer. Everything about him in this moment was enthralling, leaving you no choice but to be mesmerized.

The rippling tremors jolting through Colin's frame reminded him that he was nearing his climax, fire pooling low in his abdomen ready to erupt. Between heavy panting, he plucked up the courage to voice his request, his fretful eyes scanning the confined space of the car. “Hey sooo uh- you um… y-you don’t mind if I don’t pull out… right?” he asked, vulnerability threaded through his tone. He definitely wasn’t eager to see his load spray onto anything inside his police car.

Your nose scrunched up in clear disapproval, a glare shooting daggers at him, clearly not a fan of swallowing. He clicked his tongue in disheartenment, head tilted to the side “C’mon, do me a favor will ya?… Not really lookin’ forward to making a mess in the car.” He pleaded breathlessly. To his relief, no signs of protest emerged, though a sullen mask adorned your face.

As he noticed your lack of resistance, he seized the opportunity to follow through with his words. “‘m sorry!- So sorry. I-I’ll make it up to you later. Really!” Colin bleated, tone brewing with guilt and that familiar undercurrent of pleasure.

Squeezing his eyes back shut, he rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to quell the tightly coiled spring in his belly, yearning for release. His balls tightened, cock pulsing as his thrusts into your mouth turned sloppy. Consumed by a blinding, searing white that engulfed his senses, his mind completely blanked. With one final forceful pump, he held your head close, ropes of cum painting your mouth white. Trapped in his surprisingly strong grip, you gulped down the bitter torrent, suppressing the almighty urge to gag as your tongue battled with the assault.

Once you swallowed every last drop of his cum, Colin released his firm grip, withdrawing his now softened cock from your mouth. His hands fell limply to his sides, the air in the cramped car heavy with sweltering breaths, as though the two of you had just completed a grueling marathon on a hot summer’s day.

Gradually regaining his composure, Colin peeled his eyes open, his gaze fixed upon your chest rising and falling, your lips swollen and glistening with wetness. “Jeez uhh, are you okay?- I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Post orgasm clarity rushed over him like a gust of fresh air, his lips downturned with genuine concern. He hastily reached into his coat pocket, digging out and opening a tissue packet, gingerly dabbing away the saliva and residue from your chin and mouth.

You blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the unexpected act of care from the detective. Well, that was a first - no one had ever wiped your mouth for you after a blowjob, but then again, your hands were bound, rendering you immobile. “Yeah I’m fine, you didn’t really have to do that, but I appreciate the gesture.” you replied in a hoarse voice, head shying away from him.

Colin's face brightened with a smile, a wave of relief washing over him. You were right - the weight of his once overwhelming stress seemed to dissipate. In fact, he felt like a brand new man! It had been a long time since he had been intimate with a woman, so this encounter meant more to him than you could ever know.

In an unexpected twist, he scooped you up from the car floor, strong arms cradling your waist as he pulled you into a tight embrace, cocooning you on his lap. In that moment, the softie within him had taken over, aching to shower you with affection and gratitude for the pleasure you had shared.

Your shoulders tensed in his firm grasp, your wide eyes betraying a mix of surprise and alarm. You couldn't help but wonder if he always got this sentimental after engaging in intimacy, and you couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Woooow okay, so we're hugging now huh? Someone's feeling affectionate tonight," you noted with a touch of sarcasm. Yet, despite your initial resistance, you allowed him to hold you, gradually surrendering to the warmth of his arms. Deep down, buried beneath layers and layers of pride, a part of you secretly enjoyed this, even if you'd rather be drawn and quartered than admit it.

“Yeah, hope you don’t mind. It’s jus’ that… you did such a good job.” Colin chuckled, his hand gently caressing the small of your back. “And hey, would ya’ look at that! I really do feel so much better now. So, genuinely, thank you.” His words resonated softly against the crook of your neck as he rested his chin there, his arms remaining securely wrapped around you.

You allowed the weight of the moment to sink in, basking in the warmth and tenderness enfolding you. Then, an idea suddenly sprang to mind, and you couldn't resist voicing it. “Say… since I did one hell of a job, does that maybe mean I’m off the hook now?” You pulled back, a sly brow raised as you awaited his response.

Colin let out an exaggerated huff, his smile filled with amusement as he ruffled your hair into a delightful mess. “Nope,” he replied teasingly. “You’re still getting your butt thrown into the station for the night.“

Your expectant smile swiftly dropped into a deep frown, prompting a hearty pat on the back from the detective as he erupted into a fit of laughter. “Sorry kid,” He said between chuckles. “Now chop-chop, time for you to get in the back!”

-------☆-------

I’m aware I made Colin more pathetic than he actually is and I apologize- Idk I just could resist 😭😭 Hope the aftercare made up for it tho??

🤍 only tagging one person cuz idk who else wants to be tagged:

@lacucarachapisser

[allocnddits]

Can I request protective Oscar which leads to her thinking he’s super hot like that and then that leads to smut please?

here it is, sorry for the wait babes

it was the little things

the way he never let you walk on the outside of the side walk

the way he would rest his hands on the curve of your back, right above your ass, anytime you were in a room full of people or a crowd you had to walk through

But that night specially it was all too hot. Lando had convinced your boyfriend to go clubbing with him after their podium. In reality all he wanted to do was go back to his hotel and maybe have the laziest, most intimate love making session with you. But you encouraged him to go out, it was his first podium in formula one and you felt full with pride, he had to celebrate it the right way.

So after the race you went back to the hotel and got ready to go out. Oscar looked unbelievably hot, it was the most boring outfit you could think of, for sure, but your boyfriend pulled it off perfectly. The black tshirt so tight on his arm, same with his jeans, they weren’t even supposed to be skinny but his thighs had gotten thicker and looked like they were about to burst out of those pants. The watch around his wrist, the chain you had gifted him at the beginning of the season adorning his neck and his cologne, god, that fucking cologne was intoxicating.

He was thrown on the bed, open like a starfish as he waited for you to get ready. You came out of the bathroom with a more casual than not outfit. Black mini skirt, white top and black boots, the star of the show being a vintage Mclaren jacket that Oscar would probably have to hold all night.

“Ready?” you asked as he sat up on the edge of the bed, groaning. “Come on, baby, it’s your first f1 podium, you can’t just stay in and do nothing.” you explained, combing your nails through his hair, trying to get it to sit right.

“I wasn’t gonna do nothing, i was gonna do you” he hugged your waist, cheek pressed to your stomach.

“You can do me every day, but tonight i already promised Lando we would be there.” your boyfriend dropped his head in defeat, knowing damn well that the next morning his teammate won’t even know if he was there or not.

None of you were very fond of clubbing, not really knowing what to do. You danced for a bit as oscar talked to his coworkers that were there. The way you swayed your hips pulling different pairs of eyes to watch you. It was Lando that noticed and told him that you were causing a scene. He called you over with a motion of his finger, you obeyed blindly, walking over to him.

“Everything alright, baby?” you asked as he hugged you tightly to his side, the hand that held your jacket moving to discreetly cover some of your ass.

“Yep, perfect” he nodded, taking a sip of his beer before starting to talk to his teammate again. you couldn’t help but stare every time he took the glass bottle to his lips, the way they puckered up against the brim and how his arm flexed when he lifted it. “Want some?” he asked when he realized you were staring.

You nodded, holding your hand out for the bottle but it never met you, instead he took it straight to your lips tipping it so the liquid met your tongue. You drank it till he pulled away, trying not to make a mess but some of it dribbled down your chin anyway. He looked down at you swiping his thumb on the spilt alcohol and kissing you. He was putting on a show for everyone to see. Lando downed the drink the had in his hands with a chuckle before excusing himself to get another one. The second his colleague walked behind you he stretched his arm out, pulling him by the arm.

“Don’t you look, either” he threw his hands up in irony and Oscar started basically burning up, his hand lowering so the jacket would cover more of your legs.

“Don’t be mean” you told him as you threw your arms over his shoulder, his rested on your hips, hands holding your jacket and his beer, too busy to roam around your ass.

“I’m not. It’s just that, everyone was staring. I swear i saw a pit guy look you up and down, he must know who you are, right?”

“Oscar, even though this is extremely amusing and hot, you have to let it go, it’s alright.”

“Hot?” he teased

“Well, yeah, being all manly and jealous and possessive. It’s kinda hot.” you explained before starting to kiss on his neck, each mole of his receiving a peck. “Can we go back to the hotel?”

“Yes, please. Just gotta say bye, c’mon” he pulled you through the small crowd till you met Lando and some other coworkers of his. You two said your goodbyes and walked out of the place, waiting for his car. You got in so quickly after he opened the door for you, waiting impatiently to get back to your room.

His hand was on your thigh the entire ride, getting higher and higher, your skirt doing very little to stop it. You couldn’t take your eyes off his hand gripping tight on the steering wheel. His jaw was clenched making it look sharper. The anticipation was killing you but luckily you were finally in front of the hotel. Oscar rushed out of the car to open the door for you and get you out of the car and into the lobby. Because of the late hour the elevator got to you quickly and you stumbled in, his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close.

As soon as the elevator doors closed you pulled him in by the colar of his shirt your arms wrapped around his neck, hands hanging loosely behind him as he kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He was fighting the urge to not grind his hips against you just yet but it was hard when you started kissing down his neck and running your nails on his scalp.

“Oscar” you called “Oscar, we’re here” you pushed him off of you, taking him by the hand and walking to your room. You reached into his back pocket to grab the keycard and open the door, immediately kicking it shut and making him sit on the couch.

You got on your knees immediately, taking off your shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. You could see his outline in them as he lifted his hips to help you. Your lips connected to his thigh, kissing all the way up to the wet patch on his underwear, his dick growing even harder inside it.

“Don’t fucking tease, get to it” he rushed you, hand running through your hair.

Your fingers made their way to his waistband, pulling it under his dick. You watched as it basically bounced against his stomach before kissing the tip. As you looked up you saw that he was getting impatient so you spit down on the head, watching it drip down the side of his length before spreading it around him with your palm. He was watching you, following your moves closely, anticipating but the moment you took his tip into your mouth he threw his head back, closing his eyes tightly.

Oscar’s hand gripped tighter, the other one collecting the rest of your hair, pulling it into a ponytail. As he recovered himself from the first contact with your mouth he lifted his head up, admiring the way your mouth stretched around him.

“Fuck my mouth, baby, please” you asked with him in your hand, leaving your mouth open for him.

He fixed the hand on your head and pushed you down slightly on his dick till your nose gif the hairs on his groin. His hand held you there for a while before pulling off completely. You were already a mess, lips red and plump covered in saliva, small strands of your hair stuck to your face and you had been sitting on your ankles, grinding against them to get the slightest feeling of relief.

Oscar kicked your knees apart, placing his leg between them, he immediately pressed it up onto you. You let out a groan but it was cut short by the way your boyfriend shoved your mouth down on his cock.

“Fuck, baby, so perfect, your mouth is. Always feels so good” he praised as he aggressively pulled your head up and down his dick.

His thrusts had gotten more aggressive making you gag around him but you were so satisfied. After the little show he putt on earlier all you wanted was to be manhandled and it was exactly what he was giving you. You had started bouncing in his foot shamelessly and he was loving the view, your tits bouncing slightly and tears now falling from the corner of your eyes.

“‘M close, love, gonna cum in your mouth, yeah?”

He pulled you away, making you keep only his tip in your mouth, you sucked the hardest, tongue sliding against his slit repeatedly till he spilt in your mouth. Oscar groaned, throwing his head back as you sucked every last bit of cum out of him before it was all too much and he pulled you off him.

“That’s a way to celebrate a podium” you said before dropping your head to his thigh, completely used up.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad and Belly beach scene but it’s reader instead of Belly. They kiss and it’s emotional and I was really hoping their would kiss! So happy she and Jere didn’t!

The beach scene had me screaming!! They finally used snow on the beach <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Leave me alone,’’ you slurred, your back turned to Conrad as you watched the waves crash over your feet. 

Coming to the beach in your intoxicated state was far from wise — an outright perilous choice. However, reason and prudence had abandoned you at this moment, too drunk to properly think.

‘’I can’t,’’ he responded. 

His footfalls reached you, his presence palpable and audible in the water. Without preamble, Conrad hoisted you over his shoulder like a potato sack and took you out of the ocean.  

‘’No! Conrad! Put me down,’’ you demanded the moment your feet left the ground. ‘’Just put me down.’’ 

‘’You’re drunk.’’

‘’Put me down!’’ You hit at his back as he walked up the beach.

‘’I’m not gonna put you down.’’

‘’Conrad, let go!’’ 

He did, letting you down on the sand ungracefully. 

You glared at him and dusted the sand off your shorts. ‘’Just go.’’ 

He extended his hand to help, but you smacked him off. ‘’I’m not leaving you.’’

Those next words would never have come out if you hadn’t drunk so much of the bottle left forgotten in the sand.

‘’But you already did,’’ you let slip, standing up with a little bit of struggle. You felt tears coming as you looked at Conrad, memories of that night coming back in flashes. ‘’Why didn’t you tell me you went to Jeremiah about us? Why?!’’ 

When he showed up to your house in October, all he said was that Jeremiah had moved on and was seeing other people. He didn’t tell you that he asked for his brother’s blessing despite knowing how hurt Jeremiah was about the situation. Coming from someone who never talked to anybody about his feelings, it meant a lot to you that he talked to Jeremiah. He fought for you. He was serious about you.

‘’I don’t know!’’ Conrad blurted in response, genuinely not knowing why he kept this from you. 

‘’If I had known that you had done that, that you cared that much about me and about us— If I had known, then I would have fought for you.’’ Tears blurred your vision, distorting his image.

Conrad looked down at you confusedly. ‘’What do you mean?’’ 

‘’I mean I would have fought for us. At prom, and at the funerals…’’ A tear slipped down your face, but you didn’t wipe it. ‘’And I would have been there for you through everything.’’ A sob left your lips, your heart breaking over the boy you swore you would never cry for again. 

‘’I thought you knew. I thought you knew,’’ Conrad repeated, his deeply buried feelings starting to come through his walls. ‘’From the moment we kissed on the beach I thought you knew.’’

‘’Why did you throw it all away? Why, Connie?’’ You reached for him, then pushed him away, undecided if you wanted him to hold you in his arms or to hit his chest in anger. ‘’I…I thought that we loved each other.’’

‘’We did,’’ he confessed for the first time, swallowing thickly. ‘’I still do.’’ 

Tears welled up in Conrad's eyes as he looked at you, his defenses crumbling under the weight of his emotions. The tension in the salt air was palpable, a mixture of regret, longing, and the weight of unspoken words hung between you.

‘’Then why, Conrad?’’ you choked out, your voice trembling. ‘’Why did you let me end things? Why did you get in your car at my prom? Why didn’t you fight for us?’’

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek gently. You didn't pull away, torn between the anger you felt and the overwhelming surge of emotions that his confession had stirred within you. 

‘’Because I didn’t want to be a burden to you. I kept disappointing you…’’ 

Conrad did disappoint you on prom night, but not for the reasons he thought. You didn’t care about the corsage or if he wasn’t in the mood to dance all night. You would have settled for just a few dances if that’s all he was able to give you. His head was elsewhere and you understood that. Yours would be too if your mother was terribly sick and approaching her last days.

You wanted to tell him that, but you were drunk and standing way too close to Conrad to make any rational decisions…so you closed the remaining space between you and kissed him.

—

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[sweetracha]

Choose a Flavor

There are two versions of this story based on the experience you want to have. Will you be a good girl or a brat?

Flavor Selected: Good Girl

Sugar Content: Spicy Sweet (SMUT!)

Allergy Warning: Hard Dom Chan, Titles (Master and Daddy), Pet Names (Bunny, Baby, Good Girl, Princess, etc.), Praise, Overstim, Sweet Mean Dom, Dumb is used, Illusions to aftercare.

The room you stood in was silent. Not a single sound rang out. So quiet in fact, you could hear the thoughts blaring through your head. Your heart was drumming an unsteady beat in your ears and your breath danced along. Was this nervous or excited? Both you decided, it was both.

After a few failed relations and some more than disappointing hookups, you decided maybe love and lust wasn’t for you. Having to share your kinks and fantasies over and over again was tiring. No one seemed to understand what you wanted, no what you NEEDED out of a relationship. Giving up was the best option. That was until a friend ranted about her failure of a date.

“He was sweet when I met him! And super attractive don’t get me wrong! But something seemed off. We went back to his place and we were hanging out in his bed watching a movie. I thought maybe something would happen so I wanted to freshen up. I left for the restroom and when I came back I must have picked the wrong door because when I opened it…” Your friend trailed off. 

“What did you see?” You asked both out of curiosity and protectiveness. If this man did anything to hurt her you would make sure he would pay.

“Um well” her cheeks went bright red. “Remember that movie we jokingly watched back in college? The one about…you know…sex?”

“Yeah…50 shades of gray? It was a terrible representation of that lifestyle, but go on”

“Well… it was like that”

That's when it hit you. This man had a playroom. A full-on playroom dedicated to BDSM. you could finally have someone in your life to share details with. A friend that would actually understand you. You consoled your friend however, she needed you more right now. She admitted that she didn’t want to break his heart so you told her you'd do it on her behalf, all you needed was his number.

You set up a public meeting with the guy you now knew as Christopher. The two of you were to meet at a little cafe in the middle of town. While your friend described him to you, you weren’t exactly sure what he looked like. So when an incredibly handsome man walked up to your table, you were startled.

“y/n?” he asked and god was his voice intoxicating.

“Yeah–that's me! You must be Christopher” you replied with a much shakier voice than you would have liked. Chris took a seat across from you.

He was fidgeting the whole conversation, worried he actually hurt your friend. You explained to him since you were little girls she had always been scared of the taboo. This eased his tight expressions. However, the more you talked the more he picked up on. Your friend was not into the scene…but you never said anything about yourself.

“Sorry if this is out of the blue Y/N, but how do you know so much about this lifestyle? I mean you know much more than any book or movie would teach you” He said with a soft and caring tone but a cocky smirk on his lips. I

“I um- well I have looked into it” was a terrible lie, and he could tell.

“Honey, it's okay if you are an adorable little sub” He tested the waters, hoping to not scare you off. To be honest the thought of having a sub as gorgeous as you scared him a bit. When he saw the blush crawl up your skin and paint your face, he knew you had to be his. 

Here you are now standing in his playroom. It was perfect, everything you could have dreamed of and more. You had seen it once before when you were going over consent contracts. Chris wanted to make sure you felt comfortable in this space. He made love to you in the black silk bed that sat on the middle wall. He was so sweet, soft, and sensual in those moments. You wondered how he could ever be a dom.

Trying to drown out your busy mind you took in the sights. Christopher, or Bang Chan as you learned was his dom persona, had an eye for detail. The room was decorated with leather and silk, reminding you of the silk piece he had you wear tonight. Red lights colored the corners tastefully. Paddles and other impact gear were organized along the walls. Ropes were twisted neatly on the bedframe. A wand and some other toys were charging on the black wood nightstand. Finally, you took in the scent of the room. Sharp whiskey and leather filled your senses, a perfect match to Chan’s cologne. Being so lost in the art of it all, you didn’t hear the door close or footsteps behind you.

“Hello little bunny” Chris welcomed as he slide up behind you, gently wrapping a hand around your throat. “Are you ready to play little one?” you nodded in response.

“Words honey, don’t be a brat now” his grip tightened. 

“Yes Master” you meekly replied

“Good girl, here is how tonight is going to go. Every question I ask will be responded to verbally, Every order I give will be followed, and every word I say will be heard. Do this little bunny and Daddy will reward you greatly. If you fail to listen to me, however, you will be punished” His hand around your neck pulled you in close as he leaned into your ear and whispered “Hard”.

Tonight you were left with two choices. Be the good girl your dom wants you to be or have your fun and be a brat. Rewards or punishments were the ultimate questions. 

You picked to be a good girl tonight

Chan spun you around so you were facing him, it didn’t matter if he had a shorter stature. Right now he towered over you. Leather-gloved hands came up to fix your pretty white bunny ears on top of your head. Christopher cooed at how innocent you looked in the dark space. He was going to have fun with you. Those same rough leather hands tilted your chin up to stare into his intense eyes.

“What are your safe words bunny?” 

“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop” You had to admit he stole your breath away. He was terrifying yet comforting at the same time as he hummed in approval.

“What is my name doll?

“Daddy or Master” 

“Good bunny, such a good girl for daddy huh sweetie? Let's start now, how does that sound to you”

“Please Daddy” fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

Christopher laid you down on the black silk sheets. He leaned in to capture your lips in a soft kiss. His big lips pillowed onto yours. You were getting lost in the false comfort of it all until he bit your bottom lip harshly and pulled back. The moan that left you was forever engraved in his mind. After his stunt he went back to kissing you but with more passion and fire. His tongue delved into your mouth and easily took dominance. It wasn't long before kisses trailed down your jaw and onto your neck. He explored you until one spot, just under your ear, made you moan louder than any before. He latched on. With intent to mark what was his, Chris sucked and bit that section all while you sang out in pleasure. When he pulled back, he was satisfied with the deepening purple bruise left behind.

His next stop was your breasts. After removing the white silk babydoll gown, he took a second to admire your body.

“Fucking gorgeous bunny” as he would have put it

He kissed, twisted, and sucked each nipple while you whined and wiggled.

“Stay still baby, you were doing so good” The praise was like electricity to your skin. You needed him to see you as his good girl. So as best as you could you stayed still.

Finally, he made his way down to where you needed him most. Your panties were soaked from his previous exploration and from the look on his face, he approved. 

“So wet honey, all for me?” He knew the answer but wanted to see that embarrassed blush again from the cafe.

“Yes Daddy, wet for you,” you said so quietly you almost thought he didn’t hear.

“Good girl, that must be so uncomfortable bunny. Let Master help you with that okay? Dumb little bunnies like you need all the help you can get” He cooed before driving right in. He gave you no time to adjust to the new feeling. Pleasure overtook your body and you began to shake. Chan took this as an opportunity to slide in two fingers and scissor you open. 

“So sensitive little bunny, whatever am I going to do with you?”

“Fuck me please” you cried out so loud you were sure the neighborhood heard

“Cum first, then daddy will fuck you” 

With that he went back in, eating you like a man starved. His fingers picked up the pace, hitting the spot that made you melt over and over again. It was all becoming so much. A familiar knot formed in your stomach and before you could say anything it snapped. You came with a loud moan and shook uncontrollably. No man, woman, or person had ever made you feel like that. Christopher rode out your high with you. Once he knew you were okay he sat on the bed and pulled you into his lap, he just needed to hold you for a second.

“How did that feel little bunny?” he asked while petting down your crazed hair

“So good master” your speech incredibly slurred

“Color baby?”

“Green daddy, so fucking green” you panted, and with that, he tossed you on the bed.

He removed his painfully hard cock from his black dress pants. The tip was bright red and leaking. The size still scared you even if you had taken it before. But you trusted Chan, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you more than you wanted. He placed you in a mating press and slowly entered your soaking entrance. You couldn't help the long drawn-out moans that left you both. Once he was finally seated in you he waited. 

“Beg for it princess, beg for your master to fuck you”

“Please master please fuck me” You whined

“Oh come on now, you can do better than that. Yeah? Be a good little bunny and fucking beg” The glint in his eye and the smile on his face was terrifying in the best way possible.

“Please Daddy please fuck your little bunny! Only you can fuck me. God please just use me. I need it Master, you own my pleasure” Before you could go on he rammed into you.

He set a hard and steady pace. It was clear he knew the difference between fast sex and hard sex. Your eyes couldn’t help but roll back into your head. He knew by how you were clenching around him that you were close.

“Cum” is all he said and you exploded into ecstasy. Unlike before however, he didn't stop.

Instead, his gloved hand captured your wrists and pinned them above you. With his strength, there was no freeing yourself. His other hand reached behind you to grab something. You were about the question him until you heard a humming come to life. The black wand was placed onto your overly sensitive clit. You practically screamed.

“Cant! Sensitive” were the only two words you could create.

“What did I say, princess? What master gives you, you take. I know you can handle this because you are just my dumb little bunny who only wants pleasure from her master. So. Fucking. Take. It” Those last few words were punctuated with incredibly hard thrusts. 

Soon enough another orgasm rockets through you. This time however you clenched down so hard on Chris that he almost lost it right there. He no longer cared about your pleasure and needed to released. Like an animal, he pounded into you, wand long forgotten on the stained sheets until he snapped. He filled you to the brim with his cum and cursed as he pumped the rest of it into you. He pulled back and watched it leak from your fragile frame. You were the most amazing site to see. To him, you were the 8th wonder of the world.

“So good little bunny, so good” He whispered to you as he began to clean you off.

“Thank you Daddy” your voice croaked

“Shhhhh not now little one, I'm just Christopher right now bun” 

“Channie?” you slightly sat up with a sweet questioning expression on your face. He was going to marry you someday.

“Yes princess, Channie is here. Let's get you into a bath baby girl.”

Change Flavor?

[the-californicationist]

The Logistics

This is (at long last!) a short request gift for the wonderful @glitterypirateduck who is an amazing source for all things COD fics!! Seriously, you are missing out if you're not following their blog. They've got challenges and recs galore. Be sure to stop by and give them some love!!

DUCKS! I'm so sorry this took me so long. Thanks for being patient. It's a little short and a little sweet, but I hope it inspires you. ✌️🩷

The goal was to capture the fun lovin' from this scene from Crazy Stupid Love. I have NOT seen this movie, so thanks for suspending your expectations, everyone.

Everything about him screamed man. He was brazen with his body language, making wide sweeping motions with his hands when he talked, using a voice that rumbled and boomed like thunder, using his heavy, muscled form to take up space in the room. His beard and hair were immaculately groomed, and his clothing choices all seemed to have a level of intent in their favor. 

His name was Alex Keller. You didn’t know him, but everyone else did, and they couldn’t stop talking about him. He was supposedly some hot-shot CIA agent with a license to kill, but that all sounded like a tall tale to you. And you didn’t really care to know the truth until you locked eyes with him from across the bar. 

You thought he’d look away, maybe turn back to his friends, laugh heartily at more of their jokes. A quick glance was all it was supposed to be. But, it wasn’t quick. He stayed bound by your gaze, and you watched as his face went slack. Those big blue eyes gleamed in the low lamp light of the bar. Then, as if suddenly thawed back to life, he started to make his way over to you and your friends’ table.

“Oh, my God,” Tara gasped, slapping you on your bare thigh.

You winced, looking over at her, 

“What?”

“He’s coming. Keller is coming over here.”

“What? He’s what?” Helena craned her neck around you to stare. 

“So?” You asked.

“So!?” They both exclaimed at the same time.

“Good evening, ladies,” his voice melted over your group like warm honey, soft and sticky, clinging to everything it landed on. 

You rolled your eyes, edging out of the booth.

“Hey, leaving so soon?” He smiled down at you from his towering height. He smelled expensive, and it was intoxicating. You did everything you could to ignore it. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, reaching for your clutch, “My carriage is turning into a pumpkin soon, and you really don’t wanna be inside it when that happens.”

“Yeah,” he said, following your movements with his eyes, watching you pull yourself together, “Sounds sticky.”

“Very,” you smiled curtly. 

Then, he started following you to the door. You looked at him over your shoulder, 

“You lose something?”

He laughed, putting his hands in his pockets, fully at ease in the most attractive way,

“No, but I’m looking for something.”

You made it to the curb and waited for a cab. It was raining hard enough to make you shiver, and you couldn’t help but glare as you turned to reply to him,

“What are you looking for, Mr. Keller?”

He was getting soaked, but he smiled slyly as he looked down at the glistening pavement in a brief moment of vulnerability,

“You.”

You scoffed, 

“Does that line work on anybody?”

He glanced up at you incredulously, 

“Sometimes, yeah!”

You smirked, rolling your eyes again and waving down a cab driver. 

“Wait!” He grabbed your arm.

You looked at him like he was out of his mind for touching you like that, and he let you go, raising his hands in surrender. He continued with his pitch,

“Come back to my place. Just for one drink. And if you’re still not into me, I’ll bring you home. I promise.”

“And what happens when you serial kill me?” You asked, impatient.

“I don’t think it’s serial if it’s just once.”

“That doesn’t make it better!”

He laughed, backing up a half-step,

“Okay, I promise not to serial kill you. You just…” His face softened and he looked at you in a way no one had ever looked at you before, “You look good. Please. One drink?”

“So, is this how it normally works?” You asked in a short tone. You could tell that you were fidgeting, feeling your hands tugging on the short hem of your dress, and you tried to stop. You just needed something to do while he was stripping down in front of you. It was the most delicious display you’d ever witnessed, and you couldn’t look away. 

“What?” Alex looked up at you as he stripped off his outer jacket, rolling it over those muscular shoulders.

All the words rushed out of your mouth at once before you could stop them, “You know, you, like, put on the perfect song and make them drink… and then you sleep together.” 

“…um, yeah.” He smiled, crossing his arms over his wide chest as he leaned against the back of his white leather sofa.

Everything in his place looked expensive. The CIA apparently paid pretty well. The countertops were a glittering white quartz, the floors were marble, and the walls all seemed to be made of glass. Everything shone, except for you, it seemed.

“I’m very nervous,” you laughed, not sure why you were confessing to him.

“I’m getting that,” Alex laughed, too. It made you feel better, though just a bit.

“Okay, ‘cause I know I seemed confident back at the bar. That was, um… that was mostly just because I was cold… and wet… and trying to be dramatic, a little bit.”

He was watching you through your whole speech, raking his eyes over you without worrying about hiding his leering. Then, he smiled again, tempting you,

“You’re adorable.”

“No!” You found some courage somewhere deep down in your heart and stood your ground, “I am sexy. I am R-rated sexy. Okay, I know what happens in the PG-13 version of tonight, alright? I know. It’s - uh, that - I get really drunk and pass out and you cover me with a blanket and you kiss me on the cheek and nothing happens! But, that’s not why I’m here. I am here…” You made sure to emphasize your words with your body language, turning up the aggression as far as it would go, “...to bang the hot guy that hit on me at the bar.”

“Alex,” he pointed to himself, helping you with his name.

“Alex.”

“Do people still say ‘bang’?” He questioned.

“Oh, I do. We are gonna bang. Yeah, this is happening,” you sighed, shaking off the nervousness quite literally. Then, resolutely, you commanded him, “Take off your shirt.”

“What?”

Breathless, you repeated yourself in a rush, hoping you wouldn’t lose your nerve,

“Please, will you just take off your shirt? ‘Cause I can’t stop thinking about it. And I need you to just…”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Alex started to take his shirt off, undoing button after button until he was able to shuck off his last layer.

“Okay, okay,” you mimicked, breathing steadily to keep yourself calm.

“Okay.” 

It was unbelievable that a real human person could look like that. It was even more unbelievable that a person who looked like that would be standing in front of you. You threw up your hands in despair, 

“Seriously!? It’s like you’re photoshopped! Can I…?”

Some demonic possession took over your body and stretched out your arms to touch his warm abdominal muscles. They felt smooth and pliant beneath your fingers, and when he flexed them, they went as rigid as a stone.

“Ah! You have cold hands!” He yelped, moving away, “Now, you take off your dress.”

“No!”

“Yes,” he insisted.

“No way! Not with all that goin’ on. No, thank you. Is there dim lighting somewhere?”

“No,” he smiled at you, holding back his laughter.

“Oh, God. Okay,” you ran your hands through your hair, trying not to panic, “So, what do we do? What happens now? Like, logistically? What’s your move?”

“I got lots of moves, babe,” his smile turned smug, and he shook his head as if to shrug off your doubt.

“What’s your big move?” You pressed.

“I’m not telling you about my big move. You’re not ready for the big move.” 

“Yes, I am! I want your big move,” you insisted. Alex was right; you were not ready, but you’d gotten this far, and you decided that there was no turning back.

“Dirty Dancing.”

“What?” You hadn’t heard him correctly, because it sounded like he was saying the words Dirty Dancing.

“It’s the song from Dirty Dancing. I put it on and then I do the big move,” he lifted up his hands in a mock rehearsal, making a strong base with which to lift his date up into the air, “You know, from Dirty Dancing. Works every time.”

“Oh, my God! That would never work on me,” you laughed out loud, eyes wide with shock. 

And that’s how you found yourself, seven feet up in the air, hoisted above Alex Keller’s head in the middle of his living room while the theme song from Dirty Dancing was playing in the background.

It should have been ridiculous, really. You wanted to laugh at yourself. But, you couldn’t. As he lowered you, keeping you close to his chest, sliding you all the way down his body with elegant ease, you could barely breathe. It was as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room, and suddenly, you were taking Alex Keller’s big moves very seriously. You took them even more seriously when your thighs and belly grazed over the biggest move of the night: his hardening cock. 

He gazed down at you with the look of a starving man. His eyes had lost their humor, and he was studying you with sincerity, tuned into your every breath and movement. You were looking at his mouth, and you saw his lips part. You thought the kiss might be slow and careful, but it was everything else. 

Alex rushed you. His mouth was on you in a flash, pressing into your lips and teeth with blissful abandon, not caring how he was holding you or where he was standing. All of it - the whole room - fell away and it was just his tongue sliding across yours, his jaw pushing into yours, his body warming yours. You were overwhelmed by him. 

The straps of your dress were pulled down, and his belt jangled off. Shoes clattered, clothing pooled, and you were falling backwards onto the leather sofa together like two ravenous wolves, hungry for each other beyond measure. 

He kissed your neck, licking at your skin before he sucked on it, tasting your makeup, your perfume, your lotion, and you. He gasped, wrapping you tighter in his arms,

“Fuck… you are so goddamn fine.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything at all. 

His hands found your panties, and he shuddered. It was as if he had just been shocked, bitten by the warmth of you. 

“Oh, my God,” you whispered.

“What? Are you okay?” Alex gave you his full attention.

“No. Yes! No, it’s just… you’re too hot.”

He smiled, 

“You’re one to talk. This is all your fault.”

You felt him slide his cock out of his boxer briefs and tap its rigid length against your lacy panties. It was sexy and absolutely ridiculous, and your body loved it. You let out a short moan, and he caught it. 

“Mmm, she’s naughty.”

“You’re a lot of talk for such a hot dude,” you teased.

“Aren’t hot dudes allowed to be nervous, too?” He asked, looking up at you, his cock still in his hand. 

There was the slightest hint of shyness behind his eyes, just enough to let you know it was there. You smiled at him, raking your hands through his shock of blond hair, 

“No. You’re too hot to be nervous.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “I am, a bit.”

“Yeah, well… welcome to the club,” you kissed his cheek, worried that it was too sweet. 

But, it was just what he wanted. He melted into it, leaning into your kiss, sighing at its contact. Then, his voice dropped to a whisper, and he kept his face close to yours as he said,

“What if we just stay like this? Just for now. Is that okay, pretty girl?”

He slipped his cock inside of your panties and nestled his shaft between your wet lips, rubbing himself on you. 

“Yeah, that feels good,” you admitted, letting him kiss his way down your neck. 

His hands were everywhere. He plucked at your nipples, wetting his fingers before he did so, letting them slip and slide over your tight peaks, making you gasp for him. All the while, he was thrusting into you, slicking himself in your wetness, gasping and moaning with you. 

You angled your hips to give him more of you, more of that warmth you kept between your thighs, and he laughed. A look of shock was plastered on his face, and you asked him,

“What’s wrong?”

He was still reeling as he whispered back to you,

“I can’t believe I’m close.”

You brought his face back to yours to kiss him again, feeling yourself building up to a climax as well, though it was a ways off. You grinned at him softly,

“Why? Are photoshopped guys not allowed to get turned on.”

He chuckled, kissing you back,

“I guess we are. Maybe when a photoshopped girl is here, like this, yeah…”

You gave him a gentle slap on his chest, giggling together as he rubbed himself against you. Then, his hand joined his efforts, softly encircling your clit and coaxing you closer and closer to your peak. His thrusts became frantic, searching for pleasure with every push and pull.

The way his body was yanking against the elastic of your panties was intoxicating, and his hands seemed to sense exactly what you needed when you needed it. He picked up his pacing, and you watched in awe as all of those muscles and bones worked for you, struggled just to get you off, flexing and curling and flushing above you like a delicious morsel, ready to be devoured.

You heard yourself mewling quietly, and he egged you on,

"That's it, pretty girl. I like that. Need that..."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tight to him, feeling your body tense and freeze as you melted into a warm, shimmering orgasm, crying out louder and louder as you lost control.

You still didn’t know Alex Keller very well, but you were starting to really enjoy finding out.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Midnights

Pairings: Eugene Roe x f!reader Summary: Eugene and Y/n have been in love with each other since Toccoa. The pair final admit their feelings for each other and things get a little heated. Warnings: smut, sexual images, 18+, minors dni Disclaimer: any writing of Band of Brothers characters is strictly based of their fictional representation within the show and is meant as no disrespect to the real hero’s.

The beer was cool against Eugene’s lips as he raised the bottle, taking a long swig of the golden liquid. He watched the scene unfolding in front of him, as George Luz tried hopelessly to flirt with the poor barmaid who wasn’t the slightest bit interested. He’d been at it for the best part of an hour but he still hadn’t given up hope. Eugene and Babe Heffron gave up trying to help him, wanting to preserve what little dignity George still had left as the barmaid landed another wounding blow to his ego and resigned to a game of darts with Buck Compton and Joe Toye.

“The winner gets two packs of smokes?” Joe asked, twirling the dart delicately between his fingers, a smirk on his face.

“You’re on,” Babe replied, dragging Eugene with him who followed reluctantly, downing the rest of his beer before taking the darts from his friend and lining himself up with the board. “Go on Gene, show 'em what ya got.” Babe cheered, clapping his hands enthusiastically and causing a red tint to spread across Eugene’s cheeks. He threw the first two darts with ease, not letting the noise of the bar or the jeering from his comrades distract him. Before he threw the third dart, the door swung open letting in the cool evening breeze and sending a shiver down Eugene’s spine, a pleasant relief from the sticky sweat beneath his class A uniform. His dark eyes moved to the door where they met those of a certain female medic who was smiling jovially and waving at a group of his fellow Easy Company men. Eugene gulped, averting his eyes back to the darts board when he felt a hand appear on his shoulder. “Do I notice a blush on those cheeks, Eugene?” Buck whispered into his ear, causing Gene to duck away from him.

“No…got nothin’ to blush about…just warm in here,” Eugene tugged at the collar of his uniform, emphasising how warm he was.

“Sure thing, Doc,” Buck smirked at him as Eugene took his last turn before handing the darts off to Joe.

“Buck’s right you know,” Babe chimed in, following Eugene as he retreated to the bar. “You’ve just gotta talk to her, she’s a nice gal and if the way she’s been looking over here all night I reckon she feels the same way.”

Eugene leant forward, coughing frantically on the sip of beer he’d just taken.

“Christ Gene, don’t die on me,” Babe laughed, slapping the medics back playfully. Eugene gave Babe a stern glare causing the young paratrooper to put his hands up in mock surrender. “Just think about it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the evening drew on, Eugene found his senses dwindling from the alcohol he’d consumed. He’d somehow been drawn into a drinking game with Chuck and Floyd and could feel his brain begin to falter as he fumbled his way through the bar to a seat in the corner. Eugene's mind was swaying aimlessly when a familiar figure sat down beside him, equally wobbly from their alcohol intoxication.

“Hey Genie,” she blushed, running her hand through his dark locks causing him to freeze. “How’re you doing?” She mumbled, slumping down beside him.

“I… ’m okay… good…you?” Eugene gulped, glancing at Y/n as she grinned.

“I’m good but I’m even better now I’m here with you,” she grabbed ahold of his hands. “Do you want to get some air, it’s a little stuffy in here.” She bit her lip and batted her lashes. Eugene gulped again.

“Yeah, course…I’d…love to.”

Y/n grabbed hold of his hand, leading him between the crowds of paratroopers to the door, a few whistles and shouts of ‘go get her Gene’ followed them.

The cool air brushed Eugene’s face, bringing some relief from the stifling heat of the bar. Taking a deep breath and watching as the air left his lungs in a small puff into the night, he began to feel some relief.

“Eugene, I need to tell you something. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while and now that we’re going back into combat I need to tell you before it’s too late and I don’t get the chance,” Y/n rambled, reeling off the sentences in one breath without turning to face him. Eugene moved slowly, fearful of frightening the panicked woman who stood before him. They were facing each other but Y/n wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Y/n?” He squeezed her hands lightly causing her to look up, his eyes pleading with her.

“You don’t feel the same do you?” She asked, her bottom lip began to quiver and her eyes watery. The image broke Eugene’s heart and he quickly stepped forward pulling the young woman into his chest. Her shoulders shook a little and he rushed to comfort her. “Shhh mon amour, please don’tcha think that,” Eugene begged, pressing his lips firmly to her hairline in a desperate attempt to bring her some comfort.

“I have loved ya since I laid eyes on you, ain’t ya the most beautiful, strong and brave woman I ever seen,” this time it was Eugene’s turn to ramble. “I was just too afraid in case ya didn’t feel the same.”

Y/n looked up a little shell shocked from his confession. She’d never heard the Cajun man speak so plainly or so much that she wasn’t sure how to reply, instead she grabbed hold of his collar, pushing her lips to his. Eugene let out a small yelp of protest before he too cercumed to the kiss, winding his arms around her waist and holding her firmly against him.

When they pulled apart Y/n was smiling widely, “Do you maybe want to walk me to my billet?” She bit her lip, watching as the cogs of Eugene’s mind turned frantically.

“Y…yes,” he finally stuttered, taking hold of her arm and they began the short journey to the house where Y/n was staying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We shouldn't be doin’ this,” Eugene groaned as she began placing hot, open-mouth kisses along his jugular, nipping at the sensitive flesh. “Y/n.” His hands gripped ahold of her hips, stopping any movement and causing Y/n to look up, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him worriedly. Had she overstepped the line? Did he not want her? It had been pretty clear how he was feeling when he’d carried her up the stairs, stripping her of her clothes as they went. Y/n swiftly climbed off his lap, stepping away from him and straightening the nonexistent creases in her uniform shirt. “I'm sorry… Gene, I'm so sorry… I didn’t,” she began digressing, unable to meet his eyes as her lips ran wild, words tumbling from them at an embarrassingly rapid rate.

Eugene stood quickly, stepping over towards her and grasping hold of her hands, bringing them up to his lips and silencing her ramblings.

“It ain’t that at all, ma chérie, of course, I want ya. I've wanted ya for so long but I needa make sure ya want this too. I need to know how far ya wanna go with this because honestly,” he paused, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t think I'll be able to stop myself once we’ve started. God, I'm weak.” Eugene slumped back down on the bed, running his hand over his face with a low groan, “It’s just that I’ve never felt this way before and I know it's wrong and we shouldn’t but I…” Gene was silenced by Y/n’s lips pressing firmly to his, her hand winding around his neck and into his hair as his hands came to rest upon her hips.

“I want this, Gene,” she breathed, her breath fanning over the sensitive skin of his neck. “I want you.”

It was as if a switch flicked in Eugene’s mind because the next thing Y/n knew she was pinned beneath him, his strong arms resting on either side of her head, his mouth sucking deep bruises on her abdomen and his hands trailing down her sides, stroking her hips lovingly.

“Gene,” she gasped as he grazed his teeth along the skin of her lower abdomen. “God, yes Gene. Yes!” Eugene’s hands worked quickly, slipping her underwear down her legs and discarding them across the room, placing small kisses on her thighs.

Eugene couldn’t believe his luck when he looked up at Y/n, the woman he’d been in love with since Toccoa was here, beneath him, letting him make love to her. The smell of her hair, the soft moans that left her perfect mouth, and her salty, sweaty skin beneath his lips drove him wild. His lips worked quickly, lapping and kissing between her thighs until she was a moaning mess, hands fisted into the bedsheets, back arching off the bed.

“Eugene, please,” Y/n all but cried, fisting her hands into his dark locks, tugging him upwards to kiss him. Eugene’s lips curled up into a smirk, his dark eyes shining. “Please Gene, I need you.” She begged, pulling him flush against her body and fiddling at the buckle of his trousers desperately.

“Someone’s needy, ain’t ya Darlin’,” Gene asked, smoothing down the loose hairs from around her face. Y/n managed to slip her hand down into his underwear, fingers grazing against his hard cock, pulling it free from his trousers. Eugene let out a shaky breath, his hands stabilising himself against the headboard.

“God preserve me,” he muttered through gritted teeth as Y/n ran her thumb over his red tip. Y/n smiled up at him, running her other hand softly over his cheek.

“I love you, Eugene.”

“I love to too, Ma Chérie.” He sealed his lips to hers, stealing the air from her lungs. Gene’s hands shook with anticipation as he dragged the head of his cock up and down your sex agonisingly slow. Eugene let out a choked sound as he sunk into her, both of them reeling at the feeling of fullness. Y/n’s hands gripping tightly to his shoulders, leaving deep red marks on his pale flesh.

“You’re so tight,” he grunted, pulling back slightly before rocking himself forward. Y/n groaned, squeezing her pelvic muscles as Eugene bit back a pained whimper escaping from his plump lips.

Y/n chuckled slightly and did it again, his grip tightening on her hips and he sent her a warning glare. Eugene’s thrust became more desperate, needier. His hands moved to pin hers above her head, chests impossibly close.

The room was quickly filled with soft moans and needy whines as he brought her to the edge. Y/n’s eyes were closed, too consumed by the pleasure building in her stomach, the knot tightening deep in her abdomen.

“Look at me ma Chérie, I want to see ya. I need ya to look at me.” Eugene pleaded, his voice strained as he too fought his orgasm. As Y/n opened her eyes the band snapped and she was sent spiraling into her ecstasy, hips bucking upwards uncontrollably. Eugene soon followed, cumming with a loud cry as he buried his head into her neck, loud breaths muffled by her flesh.

The couple lay there for a few minutes, both too exhausted to move or speak, too wrapped up in their moment of satisfaction.

“Eugene,” Y/n spoke slowly, carding her fingers through his locks. Eugene let out a small hum in response, tilting his head to look at her. “Thank you.”

“What for, Darlin’?” He asked, propping himself up above her.

“For this. For making me feel this way… for loving me,” she admitted sheepishly. Eugene's normally shy features burst with love, his smile growing wider than ever. “It weren’t difficult ma Chérie. It was real easy to love you and I found it impossible to stop myself from loving ya.” He admitted, a red hue growing across his cheeks causing Y/n to smile too.

“Well, I’m very glad you didn’t stop yourself. I love you.” She caressed his cheek, leaning their foreheads together lovingly. “As do I, ma Chérie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @maggiescarborough @mayhem24-7forever @ssprayberrythings @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @elenavampire21 @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @roostette @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @mayhemmanaged @shanimallina87 @shadowsintheknight @bcon24 @yeahcurrahhe-e @iceman-kazansky @softly-writes

[heartsforsserafim]

g!p reader x soyeon?

Sweet juice

pairing ; jeon soyeon x gp!reader

genre ; smut

tw ; pillow humping, thinking of soyeon while getting off (idk how to warn this??), getting caught, riding, dom!soyeon, sub!reader,creampie, unprotected sex

"I have a late night in the studio baby" the same words that went through your mind like crazy. Of course you knew the issues that would come with dating an idol, especially the Jeon Soyeon.

Her being the leader of (G)I-DLE made your relationship kind of hard to maintain. It isn't like you two didn't trust each other but the distance always made you want, no crave the older girl more.

You were watching a specific clip from one of her performances like crazy, her and yuqi dancing together. Of course you were only focused on soyeon. The way her skirt was short enough you saw her thighs, before you knew it, you had a hard on.

Sighing and removing the black boxers you wore, you grabbed soyeon's favorite pillow and sniffed it. God her scent was so intoxicating, your tip was leaking so much precum already.

Placing the pillow between your legs, making a hole you began thrusting. Thinking of soyeon's small hands around your shaft jerking you off, the way she'd call you, "My pretty girl"

You whimpered, "A-ah~" you thought of the fancam, god the way her body moved made you want to tear those clothes off of her. You sped up your movements.

So caught up in pleasure, you didn't hear the bedroom door open. "Having fun there beautiful?" soyeon spoke as she walked over to you. "I uh.." you stuttered over your words, she placed a finger on your lips and motioned for you to lay down.

"Darling, if you needed to be taken care of you should've told me" she had you lay on your back. Dragging her tongue from your tip down to the base. "Fuck~" you moaned out.

Her warm mouth taking you in, it took you everything not to thrust into her mouth. She took more, inch by inch before she completely deepthroated you. She swallowed around your cock, moaning occasionally. Your hands, grabbing her head as you began to fuck her throat.

"A-ah~ cumming" you came down her throat, pulling out and watching her swallow your seed made you hard again. Without saying anything, she removed her pants and panties before settling down on your cock.

"Mmph so big~" she moaned out, before you entered her completely. A small while passed before she began bouncing onto your cock, you both moaned in ecstasy. She loved when you filled her up and you loved feeling her tight cunt around you.

You began moving your hands up to remove her shirt and bra, successfully doing so and seeing her tits bounce as fast as they did your cock twitch inside of her. You grabbed her hips, began thrusting up, you were thrusting so fast she fell on top of you. She was saying incoherent words, and you were trying your best not to finish before she got to

Reaching one of your hands between you two, you began rubbing her clit at the same pace as your thrust. Causing the girl to scream and shake violently as she came on top of you, her walls were so tight around you. Cumming deep inside of the older girl with a loud yell of her name.

You both lay there panting before she got up, your load dripping out of her cunt. God was that scene hot

[fxshigurosbae]

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

now playing ► KINKTOBER 22, last week.

OVERVIEW. they are going to enjoy you, no matter what.

♫ SONG DURATION.

0:00 ——◦———— -4.5kwords

parental advisory ! explicit content

LYRICS. a!u, gangbang, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dumbification, oral sex, cunnilingus, handjob, humiliation, creampie, multiple orgasms, public use, pet names, overstimulation, dacryphilia, degradation, corruption, age gap, size kink, power play, manhandling, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, strong language // user [20]

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

ARTIST. i am sorry for being late! here’s the last chapter for kinktober 2022, i am so glad i got to work again with the wonderful @fueledbysano and i’d like to thank every one of you for the support, sending you my love!

— the playlist

those lonely nights at home always used to end the moment your brother came back home, either close to death or heavily intoxicated, those being the most usual scenarios. living with getou, for most of your life was certainly intriguing, in fact, a very unique experience. being his little sister could be both a blessing and a curse, you two surely made an amazing pair, taking care of each other when your parents were never there. well, you were the one always looking out for him, obviously, but it all had it’s benefits — his hot guy friends hanging around the house, peeking at your window or the door, people at school respecting you, even after years of him graduating, calling you getou’s little sis. this time, on a saturday nighttime, with a few knocks on your door, as soon as you swing it slowly open, the same scene unfolds in front of your eyes.

“he’s at it again, y/n.” a subtle wobbliness on the white-haired man’s voice, gojo, while leaning against the doorframe with your unconventional brother laying on one of his shoulders.

“he made such a mess back there.” the other, the one with black hair, emerald eyes, toji, holding getou too, irritatingly added.

“i had to pay for cleaning.” and the blond behind them, nanami, complained.

“oh! hi boys, thank you for bringing him home,” you chuckle embarrassingly at the moment, at the expected scene. “i am so sorry for this troublemaker,” you looked at your brother, frustratedly. “do you want to get in? i was about to make some coffee.” so sweet you were, every friend of getou’s would admit you must be an angel on earth, they all loved you — maybe a little too much — they all tried to make a move on you, but for your somewhat misfortune, your brother was very protective. after all, you were his precious sister, quite some few years younger, just freshly twenty! how could he not want to keep you hidden away from lusty men?

“no, thank you, it’s very late, we should get g—

“oh, coffee, you got cake or any sweets at all?” gojo interrupted nanami.

“coffee’d be nice.” toji too agreed, having your, probably dead asleep, big brother hang from their shoulders as they walked past your smiling self, going inside the house.

“i am sorry, y/n, they are drunk as well.” nanami apologized, walking just close enough, but a bit far, so you could sniff some of his cologne and what was the scent of the alcohol you recognized well.

“gonna take him to his room, so heavy, my shoulder’s hurt!” gojo advised a little loudly, both the men, with the package on their backs— your brother — turned to your direction coordinately, standing in the living room, waiting for your approval.

“that’d be nice! i’ll get some cups for you three, black coffee? just wait for me on the couch, make yourselves at home.” soft, gentle, a maiden’s voice, dismissing nanami’s help even before he could offer. not so long after, walking towards your living room with the drinks, watching the men talking between themselves, mostly listening to gojo’s monologue. immediately shifting their gaze towards you as you carefully handed each of them a white mug full of deliciously homemade caffeine. you sit at the usual empty spot, like everyone else, familiarly — like mentioned, bringing getou’s drunk ass home was normal, but they never really stayed for too long, or they’d have their ass beat by your brother, if he ever found out.

“he’s such a lightweight,” gojo laughed at his remark, watching a smirk on toji’s lips from across the room, as nanami observed with his usual expressionless face yet with a hint of intoxication. “getou doesn’t even think of y/n, like, what if he didn’t have us to bring him back home!” the white-haired quickly blabbered as you had a silly smile on your face at the cuteness of his acts. “if we weren’t such good guys, y/n’d be alone all night! imagine, a cute girl all by herself, that’s like unacceptable!” your eyes widened at the saying, eyebrows furrowing in confusion while you swallowed your, differently than them, hot cocoa.

“gotta agree on that one.” fushiguro added, taking a sip of his coffee, gojo gesturing at him.

“don’t assume we’re saviors, gojo.” nanami corrected, all of that making you blush harshly, but you thought it might have been a misunderstanding. “but of course, geto should be considerate of y/n.” you wonder if it’s just your hot drink or if gojo’s sudden shift of aura unconsciously, and unknowingly, excited something inside of you.

“ya wrong about one thing, nanami. we sure are here for y/n,” his blue eyes looked directly to yours. “so, that means, we gotta keep her, treat her real nice, so nothing bad happens while getou’s asleep, right?”

“that’s very sweet, but you guys don’t have to stay here! i’m sure you’re tired and—

“not a problem for us, sweetheart,” toji interrupted. “not gonna lie,” you turned to look at him. “gojo’s drunk too but he’s gotta point, can’t let ya alone in here.” as if you were completely alone, getou was there, drunk, but he was there… was it an excuse?

“oi,” nanami called. “have you not thought it might be uncomfortable having us in her house this late?” they adjusted their eyes towards you, at the same time, and you felt a heavy pressure.

“i-i don’t, i mean, you guys are always welcome here. i won’t say i dislike some company.” so fucking sweet.

“gosh, can’t believe you can say that to us so easily.” gojo chuckled. “you really don’t know what men are capable of, don’tcha, y/n?” your kindness was really such a weak point for them.

“gojo.” nanami exclaimed as he watched the white-haired stand up casually, and walk close to you, with unhurried steps and a serene expression, so unusually calm that it made you feel some warmth. with suddenness, you felt his long finger under your chin, lifting like you were a feather, delicately.

“y/n, do ya really don’t mind if we keep you company tonight?” you nodded, staring at him with curious eyes, not understanding too much of the situation, yet something deep inside told you otherwise. “good, wanted to make sure.” gojo whispered, acting as if you two were the only ones there. once again, unexpectedly he attached his lips onto yours, in a soft embrace, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. he effortfully leaned down, with his back curving like a cat, and you unconsciously attempted to get yourself up from the couch by holding onto his shirt. the man pulled away after a few seconds that felt like they went by so quickly. your cheeks felt like burning, as if your entire body shared the same flame, one which you didn’t know how to put down, or why did it burn.

“gojo, what are you doing?” nanami, once again, called him out. toji quiet, only observing — you could feel the constant heaviness on the air from their eyes.

“i’m gonna fuck you, right here, okay?” he shamelessly mumbled to you, in a very whispery tone, and you exploded internally…

…“hey, gojo, stop it, getou—

“don’t care,” the blue-eyed man instinctively looked at the blond, rolling his eyes back, with a slightly annoyed face. “getou’s way too drunk to care anyway, he fills his ass up with booze, leaves his sister alone at home and acts as if that’s okay,” nanami keeps a straight face. “now, when i wanna stay here with her, you care to stop me.”

“toji, what do you think about this?” kento directed his word to the silent dark-haired, you were desperately trying to understand what was going on.

“let him be, nanami, wanna see how far this goes.” he replied.

“great, so she is just a game to you—

“not it, would rather have us take care of her than something happen at night while getou’s fuckin’ dead in bed.” toji cut off, it felt so unreal, how could they spit out things like that in front of you.

“you done over there, mom and dad?” gojo joked, annoyed and nanami instantly sighed, crossing his arms while still sat down.

“as long as getou doesn’t kill me, take care of her, just know i am leaving.” then he stood up, collecting his coat.

“nanami, please don’t leave,” you so suddenly begged, directly looking at him. “it’s late.” you excused.

“come on, sweet girl, toji and i are not enough?” gojo giggled. “knew ya were a dirty one.” again, choking on words, so innocently letting things come out of your mouth before even thinking, but they were the wrong ones, analyzing your words with a dirty meaning.

“you gon’ leave after that, nanami?” toji made fun of him, watching kento freeze for a second, sighing again as he put his coat on the couch again, and grabbing the mugs from the coffee table avoidantly, walking towards the kitchen a few meters away, without letting out a word. as soon as you knew, gojo had spread you on the sofa, leaving you in the pillow princess position, very comfortably. pulling down your white tight shorts, kissing your neck and pushing your head back with his hand and a loose grip on you — biting your lip in order to refrain from any unnecessary sound, or else you’d die from embarrassment. as he tugged onto the cute lacy underwear that he also easily removed in a blink of an eye, and you flinched, noticing toji watching you, sat beside you, keeping one of your knees open — your eyes flew to him as a reaction and he began kissing you calmly, tongue messing and twirling halfway inside your mouth, holding onto your smaller jaw, pressing kisses on your lips before going back in. gojo kneeled down in front of your body, admiring how quickly you unfolded for the man, so cutely wet, so innocent.

“fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.” you melted deeper into the cushioned couch, pulling away from your kiss with toji, a string of saliva connecting your tongues, you covered your lips with your wrist because of being a little breathless, hips slowly moving forward unconsciously. you didn’t even think of questioning what was about to happen, how did it happen nor why was it all going too fast, not even what would happen if geto suddenly saw two of his best friends examining his little sister’s precious cunt on his living room, with her legs spread wide open shamelessly. gojo, leisurely pressed a kiss on your pussy, making you let out a short moan, watching attentively his actions, he followed your eyes with ease and serenity, a hint of smugness while you followed him too, but eyes with need, desperation and with a hint of confusion. and for good, satoru finally sank into you, beginning to eat you out with broad experience. sucking slightly, licking and flicking the tongue with soft and gentle movements, your legs attempted to close, yet both gojo and toji did not let you. both your hands flew into the cloudy white hair on his head, involuntarily pulling it closer, begging for more, meanwhile, toji let sweet pecks and gentle sucking on your pretty neck, caring to not leave visible marks.

“come on, let gojo know if’s doing good, bunny.” toji advised, with that raspy and low voice, close to your ear, in between kisses, then, your whining loudened and escaped your glistening lips, for once and for all. they were still short and shy, but so very stimulating and pure. gojo’s tongue entered your pussy for a solid few times randomly, sending shivers down your spine, and immediately making your mouth morph into an o shape, throwing your head back. “nah, look down at him, focus.” the other man encouraged, guiding you. “if ya don’t, he won’t let ya cum, get that?” gojo sucked onto your clit perfectly, and your puppy moan drove both of them insane as you nodded repeatedly. “good, good girl.” he praised, watching as his friend skillfully pleasured you and sent you close to oblivion.

“gonna cum, already? you’re so cute, y/n.” gojo spoke also in between kisses on your nub, watching his lips moisten at your little mess. your exasperated breaths meshed with your high-pitched brief whining. legs trembling at each movements of his skilled tongue, feeling toji’s unoccupied hand grope at the bottom of your breast, noticing the lack of a bra underneath the soft shirt.

“gojo-kun, t-that’s too much!” you advise, not being familiar with that upcoming fiery bubbly feeling on your lower belly, breathing heavily made it become even stronger. both men ignored you, having your legs still kept open by them, and now by toji, one of your tits being fondled and nipple rubbed in circles over the fabric every few seconds, you shivered, a lot. the moment your head went back again, unavoidably, gojo sticked one finger inside your pulsating pussy, embracing it whole. plus you were pulled back to stare at him by the neck, toji had to remind you of his promise. you moaned sharply at his digit finding so quickly, so effortlessly, a spot that made you instantly fly over to the moon and strongly make your legs almost leave their grips, gluing them together, so close to suffocating gojo with your thighs — not that he’d complain anyway — and then, you came truthfully, even if the stimulation wasn’t of greatness duration, it was enough to lead you to experience a breathtaking, body trembling, eye-rolling orgasm.

“she almost swallowed my finger, imagine how’d it feel with a dick inside her.” gojo suddenly broke the “silence”, both men talking to each other normally, as if you weren’t laying in the middle of them breathless, sweating a little too much and your skin with reddish undertones, even your fingertips blushed.

“gotta test that out.” toji added, you gulped dry. in that somewhat quietness, you could hear the water from the tap running from the kitchen — nanami must have been doing some of the dishes you planned on washing earlier. your body, smaller then their broad and muscular shoulders and chests, was moved effortlessly by toji’s large palms, making you lay down on your belly. the couch wasn’t big enough to fit all of you, still, toji bent you in a way that left more room — your legs raised into a doggy position, arching the back and having it pressed down onto the cushion. noticing gojo’s crotch right in front of your eyes, looking up at him, a smirk on his lips and a growing bulge on his pants, as he brought to his fingers, a few strands of your hair.

“suck me off.” satoru said, if he could describe, he would have swore he’d seen sparks in your eyes. slowly rising yourself up, all the while toji played with your ass, you, leisurely, carefully unzipped his pants, along with the hem of his boxers, like a prey being observed attentively. his cock, one you’d admit was quite beautiful, hard and long, rested against his abs, waiting for you to do something — but you were inexperienced with that, and well, he noticed. “seems like our pretty princess doesn’t know how to suck a cock.” he added, precisely, your eyebrows furrowed in anxiety, and you heard a chuckle from behind. “don’t worry, sweetheart,” gojo leaned down a little, grabbing your chin and lifting your poor face. “we gonna take care of you, gonna take out every single inch of innocence you got,” your heart beat increased, as if beating five times faster. “needa thank getou for keeping such a precious angel safe, just for us.” they both laughed, the aura was supposed to be intimidating, yet it was quite the opposite, the warmth, passion and desire made them feel protective. in a sudden movement, fushiguro had sank himself into you, spreading your wet and aroused lips further apart, your legs parting even more from the brusqueness, still not all the way in — only filling the tip in with harshness, leading to your body jolting and a whine echo — he actually made his way inside leisurely, groaning at first, as gojo watched.

“fuck, ya right, she tight.” toji concluded, groaning more as your lips parted, eyebrows furrowed even more and head flew back down, with your belly being pressed on the cushion permanently by one of his hands. “gojo, she’s not a virgin, know that,” your palms clenched, they both noticed your reaction at the commentary. “who do ya bet has fucked her ‘ready?” what a silly game.

“toji, you fucking monster,” the white-haired laughed along, pumping himself in front of you, lifting again your face by the chin to stare at your expression as toji finally went all the way in, entirely. “that’s a hard one,” toji almost pulled out, emptying your pulsating walls. “hm, what’bout yūta?” with a thrust all in, you contained your moan with effort, toji’s hands gripped onto your hips strongly, trying to hold you as still as possible. while gojo teased you, and slowly jerked himself off, to prepare for something else… “nah! and y/n’d be too shy to make a move on toge, right? sure he wouldn’t either.” gojo maliciously laughed, hearing toji struggle a little to thrust in and out of you, your walls too small for his girthy cock, so close to pressing against your cervix. “yuuji!” again, you restrained your moaning, almost exploding, gasping for air. “no?! come on, bunny, ‘s gotta be someone…” the man slowed his working hand, grabbing you a little harsher by the chin, since you wouldn’t look anywhere else but below you. “was it megumi?” with toji’s brusque and forceful pound, you moaned in a relieved and kind of low tone, finally, your eyes relaxing as you let it out. his blue eyes flew to the one with green ones, laughing hysterically as they both stopped moving for an instant. “you heard that, toji?! ‘gumi-chan fucked our little y/n!”

“wait! g-gojo-kun—

“no need to hide, baby.” your heart sank, knowing it was supposed to be kept a secret, after all, you were friends with megumi, it was a one time thing, and didn’t want it to ruin your friendship.

“fuckin’ bastard, huh.” you heard toji mumble and, once again, pound inside of you so harshly, your entire body jolted forward, what a situation to be in. before you could say anything else, gojo’s cock was put inside your mouth. gagging, your eyes watered already at the stretch on your jaw, toji’s raw thrusts made his cock kiss your cervix each time he pounded, both your skin clapping and your legs quivering, hands unable to support yourself on the couch, especially after finding the strength and lust to pump what was left of gojo’s dick — that couldn’t fit inside your lips. unexperienced, your tongue carefully moved around his length, while he thrusted back and forth, fucking your mouth, crying from pain and pleasure, eyes crossing from stimulation. gojo moaned, you weren’t as bad as you thought, maybe it was just a natural talent, maybe you were just made to do that. toji was merciless, being fucked so good like that for your second time was a blessing, you probably had orgasmed already but couldn’t even recognize — your legs were shaking constantly and you whined against gojo’s cock so loudly, the sounds didn’t even seem muffled — but then, you came for real now, it was so sudden, your mouth stopped midway and had his dick thrust to the back of your throat, choking and shaking, legs attempting to close together — made it even more difficult for toji to keep on going, his pace became sloppy — that was the moment they all pulled out from you, before they even came, and your eyes flew upwards to them, as you fell to the couch, breathless. noticing how they began to sweat, blushing, both still hard and almost completely dressed up— while you were completely naked — leaking pre-cum and their cocks twitching.

“can we go now?” another voice emerged from the hallway, your eyes darted to the direction of the sound just to see nanami leaning against the wall, with a very serious expression, maybe disappointment.

“how long have you been standing there? what were you doing anyway?” gojo exclaimed.

“shall we leave the house already?” nanami ignored the previous commentary, focusing his eyes on the child — that being gojo.

“what? we haven’t even finished yet!” satoru replied, a silence again.

“we should leave, this wasn’t even supposed to happen anyway, y/n must be t—

“kento-kun,” felt like before, you called the blond, staring at him with slightly closed eyes from tiredness and more desire, now, he could have sworn you had stars in your eyes. “p-please, stay. how, how many times should i ask?” he looked at you, reluctantly. in a few seconds of more quietness, gojo sighed loudly and annoyed.

“whatever, if you wanna stay or not, it’s my turn now.” he announced, you watched him come closer to you with your doe eyes, having him smile at you and push you to the other corner of the sofa, sitting down besides you, leaning his back on the cushion and manspreading. “sit on my lap, princess.” his attention was fully to you, toji walking in closer, bringing in hand some of your hair while you adjusted, but when you brought yourself to shyly and hesitantly sit on his lap… “no, turn around.” he demanded, you struggled a little but once you did, toji’s figure mounted over you, staring at him from a lower angle was somewhat demeaning — and that scar on his curved lips, it could kill you. gojo’s hand pressed against the middle of your lower back, slightly pushing you forward to bend over, facing now toji’s cock — which made you probably salivate. you were lifted by the hips again, like a light sack, but instead of seating back down on his crotch, you had immediately sank into gojo’s cock — that was the iceberg, you whined so loudly, the walls felt like they reverberated, all while staring at toji, that man could have sworn you had big hearts in your eyes. gojo gasped alongside your choir, throwing his head back, gripping more than tightly onto your sides. “fffuck, she’s tight.” he groaned, humming in approval for a long time before thrusting up, your tits jumping along.

“told ya.” the fushiguro replied, smirking and grabbing your hand to wrap around his cock. “ya likin’ being our lil’ slut for tonight?” he shamelessly questioned, wanting to degrade you more. your mind wasn’t working well, so toji leaned closer to your face, his hand grasping your hair by the side and intervening his fingers with it. “too good ya can’t speak?” you let out a whiny hum. “say it.” he demanded.

“i-i wuv being, being toji and, and gojo’s little slut f-for tonight!” you blurted out while completely cock-drunk, as gojo pounded inside you, in an interval, having to hold you on the air and bring you down whenever he moved his hip upwards. the overstimulation was too much, you were fragile and haven’t dealt with so much pleasure your whole life. those words of yours made their egos inflate even more, but then your mouth was stuffed with the fushiguro’s cock, this time, and you couldn’t tell who was bigger — both were incredibly big.

but after you humiliated yourself by spilling out that phrase, one of your hands had been grabbed and you felt it wrap around something else. as soon as your eyes opened and you looked to your side, you could see nanami standing there, with his cock out too. he was blushing and ignoring toji and gojo’s chuckles. maybe he got jealous of what you said, maybe he was way too horny to admit, who knows. their low groans could not follow your muffled whining nor the claps of your skin with gojo’s, not even your gags and humming — but they all made you crumble even more. nanami’s hand guided yours since you were weak and unable to do all things at once, plus another orgasm was about to take over you — gojo hit the very best spot repeatedly, the spongy spot, the one that was about to devastate you, shatter you into a million pieces.

“c-calm down, y/n, not letting me breath over here, squeezin’ me tight.” gojo moaned, thrusting and thrusting from below. toji was on his limit too but you went out first, closing your quivering legs together. unoccupied hand looking for support by holding onto gojo’s abs as you jolted even harshly and whined as loud as you could, jaw locking open and eyes watering non-stop, your core tightened and your walls did the same — impossibly more — letting your juices drip down gojo’s twitchy cock as his thrusts sloppied and a ring of cum began forming on the base of it — he whined louder too, desperately wanting to keep going, but his cum had already been shot inside of your destroyed cunt, filling it to the brim as soon as he pounded one last time, going in deeper and staying there, very still until your belly bloated with his seed. toji too had been gripping onto your hair a little too hard, grunting lowly as his hips slowed down and focused on going deeper inside your sore throat, releasing his own load now inside your mouth, pulling out when he saw your eyes closing from pain on your jaw, letting the rest spill onto your chin. nanami had been trying to keep quiet, his usual monotonous expression was replaced by a softer, needier expression since he joined this dirty play, but his grip onto your palm was gentle and he tried not to make your arm hurt too, sadly he didn’t want to admit that your pretty hand — that couldn’t completely wrap around his cock — way too stimulating, and he also followed all of you later on by cumming, but only a few seconds after toji finished, so instead of only having toji’s cum on your face, you got a beautiful mix of nanami’s milk onto your cheeks, lips and neck too — plus he groaned so seductively too, you swore you could have taken it inside of you, but gojo hadn’t pulled out yet. body so exhausted, it trembled, chest rising up and down, gasping for air, tears drying down your cheeks, hair and makeup messed up, eyes tired, lips wet and plushy, body sticky and cum dripping out of you, from your mouth and still stuffed pussy — with a cock and semen. nanami quickly wore back his pants and toji did so too, but unhurriedly and proudly. noticing you were no close to having gojo’s cock pulled out of you, you effortfully looked behind, seeing him leaning back, head also thrown back, chest also breathing heavily and hands over his face, in a way of expressing overwhelmingness, with his lips spread apart, like he was about to say something.

“shit, getou’s gonna kill us.”

🔖: @ryumiii @shi-thats-kiera @drxkenhubbie @P1nk-m1lk @witheldclouds @yumikorin @doumalover @drpepperlov3r @bontensbabygirl @cozydeku @simp-lauren @fatenpara @call-me-pretty-and-nasty

[vilsoo]

FLIRT WITH DEATH⌇GOJO SATORU

｡ﾟ･ 𖤐 WORD COUNT : 4,060

｡ﾟ･ 𖤐 SYNOPSIS : at a halloween party you watch a live performance from an underground band, admiring the lead singer; gojo satoru. somehow grabbing his attention, you spend the rest of the night together. but for gojo’s reckless and greedy thirst for fame, he had other plans for you…

｡ﾟ･ 𖤐 WARNINGS : groupie, noncon (reader is drunk and high), intoxication, betrayal, psychotic gojo, fame glorification, ritual, drugging, degradation, teared clothing, brutal murder, gore. DNI IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH TRIGGERING CONTENT ⚠︎

inspired by the ritual scene from “Jennifer’s Body” (2009), “Pearl” (2022), and Maxine from “X” (2022)

HORRORLAND/KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

[HAUNTED HOUSE ANNOUNCER] You are now entering the Flirt With Death live venue. This haunted house attraction depicts explicit sexual scenes, violence, gore, special effects, and content warnings posted. For a fun and safe experience, please follow our code of conduct: no touching live performers and decorations, no flash photography, and no eating. Smoking and drinking are permitted for venue attractions only. We hope you enjoy.

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The very moment your wondering eyes met with Gojo Satoru’s was the moment declaring the last night of your life. That frightful Halloween night, you were the one with the shiny price tag that captivated him that night.

Everything was going perfect. It was one of those cool autumn nights, the city radiant with luminous, twinkling colors. You were at this Halloween party taking place at a friend-of-a-friend’s luxurious mansion. The nightly ambiance was exhilarating, the Halloween decorations were spot-on, and the drinks were strong enough to ease your mind. There was also a large platform set up as a stage with instruments, multi-colored spotlights, and a fog machine lightly filling the room.

You were leaning against the wall finishing up your drink, all glamorous in your skimpy costume while absentmindedly seeing young adults on the dance floor all over each other and raising their red cups in the air with a grin. That’s when the loud music started to fade, and a man walks up the stage with a microphone.

“How’s everybody doing tonight!?” he exulted, hyping the crowd up with cheers. “I know y’all have been waiting long enough to see our guest performers tonight! We have a tribute act performance by our favorite local grunge band, who just debuted three months ago. Now, please welcome, Flirt With Death!”

The crowd goes wild again, hyping up the band members as they make their way up the stage. Hearing the name suddenly heightened every nerve of your body, as if you were just electrocuted by the most hazardous downed powerline. The more the party got louder, the more your adrenaline rushed. You were in utter bewilderment of everything that was happening at that moment, and nothing could tame the fiery excitement coursing every fiber of your being.

Flirt With Death was your favorite band from your city. And to have them be guest performers for this insanely huge Halloween party caught you utterly by surprise, vanishing your regrets of showing up here with people you barely know. Squeezing your way through the crowd to get closer wasn’t much of a problem since it was loosely crowded. Your body falls to a feverish state at the heavenly sight of the lead singer, Gojo Satoru. Nothing could soothe the erratic adrenaline rushes from being up close and seeing him in person for the first time.

“Thank you for having us tonight. It’s so good to be here with y’all!” Gojo exulted into the microphone, the teeth flashing from his wide grin so radiant you could become blind. “We’ll be singin’ a few of our favorite covers! I hope y’all enjoy and have a happy fuckin’ Halloween!”

The crowd roars again as the drummer counts off with the sticks and the electric guitar riffs take over your ears. Nothing— literally nothing could compare to the elated expression plastered on your face that night. It was as if your body was on fire. As if a brilliant, radiant firework set off in your chest. You had a restless heart, a squeezing sensation in the outer edges of your body, and a rushing flow of ecstasy from the exhilarating moment…

You managed to make it to the front of the stage, craning your neck back and grinning so widely as Gojo was doing dramatic poses and expressions to the lead guitarist playing the intro to the song “I Wanna Be Your Dog” by John McCrea. The electronic punk riffs sounded incredibly vibrant, thrilling you and everybody else in the party as if you were in a rave. Dark red spotlights, increased fog from the machines, the clashing of the drums overpowering your ears, and Gojo’s titillating stage presence sending you ablaze.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him; that frost-haired man with pale, angelic skin, glossy soft lips, and an enticing appeal to him. It felt slightly infuriating to you that there could be other girls from the crowd who’s never seen this heavenly man before and could start falling for him. Ever since you discovered them, you started gatekeeping— the band, the discography, and Gojo himself. They were still unknown at that time, their monthly listeners on Spotify ranging around 60,000. Without thinking twice, an exhilarating thought rushed past your mind that night: A chance to interact with Gojo before anyone else could.

If only you knew that your desperation would soon lead to your demise. Because at that very moment, where the world slowed down and fell blurry to the climax of the song, it felt as if it was just you and Gojo. Acknowledging your curious presence down at the crowd. Him making the most intense, prolonged eye contact with you through those hypnotizing, icy blue eyes, burning into yours. The last time of your perfect life where everything felt so surreal— being noticed by your long admired idol. Gazing down from the stage, giving flirty winks and genuine smiles at you like the only girl at the party. It was your dream come true, your perfect fairy tale ecstasy, your moment.

“What’s your name?” he asked, squatting down on the stage before you without the microphone.

“Y/N,” you replied, internally gushing.

“Let’s have some drinks together, Y/N. Meet at the bar later!”

But little did you know that spending the rest of the night while drunk was your last ever experience of happiness.

After the band's performance, you were at the designated bar. You felt like the most ravishing, enchanting girl at the party that night— to ever be offered drinks in the presence of the most beautiful man you ever laid your eyes on. You were stunned beyond your belief. Gojo wasn't even a big star (yet), but in your own eyes he exhibited the title so perfectly. He watches the way you get all coy and coquettish with him like a hopeless romantic, swooning over his divine voice and how his songs were like harmonious love spells to you. You tell him that his divine talent and beauty blossomed something in you the day you discovered him back in Summer 2021, that sultry, sensual Summer where nothing mattered to you... Consuming his music, his creativity, his passions, his undying love for his listeners… There was something about Gojo fucking Satoru that utterly bewitched you.

An ardent couple you two were that night, drinking and giggling together as the crowd of the party kept growing when time passed. As the man kept buying you more drinks, you didn’t realize he was moving you to different areas of the large estate. First, the both of you were on the dance floor, feeling the stranger caressing your waist when you kept moving your body on his. He cupped your face as if he knew just what you wanted. And once your lips finally met, something like fire and passion ignited, deepening the kiss. As if a kiss from who you thought was Gojo Satoru himself couldn’t intoxicate you more, he kept encouraging you to drink up from his cup, holding your chin up and watching the way you consumed the mysterious liquor. And then at that moment, everything started to change.

You were slowing down while the world around sped up. Nothing was making sense to you. Your eyes began to sulk and your knees felt weak. The next location you remembered that night was somewhere in a secluded lounge area, where nobody else was. You kept babbling on and on about nothing, since you lost hold of your coherence, allowing him to keep you drinking. He was moving you around like a lifeless doll, feeling all fuzzy and floating as he kept speaking words to you that you couldn’t make out. But of course, in the vulnerable state you were that your mind couldn’t keep up with, you listened to everything he said to you and took every word and every behavior of his as if it was good for you.

“Tonight, you belong to me,” he cooed in your ear while you were on his lap. “I’ll own you in every way possible… because after this, I have a surprise for you.”

There was nothing that could stop your strong and unbearable passion for Gojo. Even in your drunken state, you couldn’t get ahold of your excitement. You were ready for this, you were made for this. Made for him. This was your everything with him, and being high and intoxicated together felt like writhing into an unexplainable ecstatic state of mind. The slapping of your skins, the sweet moans, loss of breath, the heat, the unforgettable sensation. Each hard thrust into your aching cunt sent you ablaze. Oh, to lose yourself in indulgence to one of your wildest groupie fantasies.

You made Gojo’s hair disheveled, his heated gaze so lust-driven and hazy, as if his mind is fogged by something else other than you. He couldn’t wait by the time he was finished using you. But the need to make a mess of you was also one of his priorities, and even when he pulls out and watches his cum dribble out of you, it doesn't feel messy enough. At a loss of coherence and balance, your mind molded whatever he did to your numb body on that red sofa as your heated fantasies being fulfilled. You were clouded with so overwhelming pleasure all the way to your core, knowing that you were getting fucked so hard and good that night by your celebrity crush. It felt as if nothing mattered. It didn’t matter how fucking sick and wrong it felt. You were only dependent on Gojo taking care of you that your lust and salaciousness for him were fulfilled.

“Would you do anything for me, Y/N?” he mutters while he was kissing your neck and fucking into your cunt, drawing in an intense orgasm rising in your stomach.

“I’d do anything for you, Satoru…”

“How much do you worship me, Y/N?”

“I worship you with all my soul, Satoru…”

“Would you die for me, Y/N?”

“Yes, oh— oh my god, Satoru!”

“Do you promise me you’ll die for me? I’ll give you your orgasm if you promise me.”

“I— I promise!”

It really was twisted for your vulnerable, unstable mind to create this visage of him “taking care” of you, especially the way he aggressively handled you and managed to drag you away from the party. Your numb body in his care, shoving you into the back of his vehicle with your hands bound behind you. Away from the people, away from his band mates, away from everyone. No one in sight to witness your last appearance…

The next thing you knew, you felt something hot fanning onto your skin. Your eyes fling open at the sight of fire just mere inches away from you, suddenly feeling panic and confusion jolting through your entire body. You try to stand up but your thighs and shins were tied together with rope, bounding you to stay on your knees along with your wrists tied to a post behind you. You tried to scream for help but all your words were muffled by a gag. Looking down on your body, your costume was all torn in shreds that revealed your breasts. Finally realizing your most dreadful situation yet had every pulse in your body rapidly taking over your ears from such unimaginable, staggering fear. All alone, tied up in the woods at night with a ritual set up right before your eyes. Candles, powder, flowers, and unique rocks all organized around you…

“Well. Took you long enough to finally become sober. You drank so fuckin’ much that you puked in the back of my car. What a mess.”

You froze as a familiar voice from behind drew closer, hearing the rustling of leaves and trudging of dried dirt just to stand before you. And there you were; bewildered. Who you thought you could trust, the lead singer of Flirt With Death, Gojo fucking Satoru— that godsend man with a voice as heavenly as angel hymns… looking right down at you with a smirk on his face.

And there you finally realized; Gojo Satoru was nothing but a twisted, revolting man. He would go beyond recklessness just to embrace the fame, the fortune, and the adoration.

“What’s the matter, eh?” he chuckled, popping open a bottle of Delamain Cognac. “It’s not my fault you wanted to get wasted. You were so wild out on the dance floor and with me. I know you know I may like my girls fuckin’ wild, but after all that… I just had to take you out here. Away from the party and everyone. But at least I’m the only decent human being to take care of you.”

At first you lied to yourself that this couldn’t be him. But the denial you puddled up just to admire and satisfy this man, soon fell short to a malicious, cruel truth. You couldn’t help but let out more tears and sobs, shaking your head rapidly while feeling an uncontrollable ache in your heart like you were stabbed numerous times with a razor-sharp knife. Your trust, your admiration, your passion to be with him all crumbled down in the most gut-wrenching and acrimonious pain you’ve ever endured.

Suddenly, you were furious. So fucking furious that you started cursing and chastising at him, not caring if your words were muffled or if tears streamed down your face. You yanked hard on the ropes that was tied to the post as if you were going to charge right at him. But the man smirked down at himself, hefting a chuckle at your poor attempt of running free from his rope artwork. As kind as he could be, he ambled closer to pull the gag off your mouth and held your chin up.

“You fucking idiot,” you condemned sharply to the singer, glaring up at him. “Do you not think about what would happen if your bandmates found out what you were doing? Kidnapping and killing one of your biggest fans? And for what fucking reason?! Why me?”

Gojo’s heart raced, feeling hysterical and every immense level of insanity every second from the atrocious words you spat. He kept smirking down at the ground, the most twisted smirk you saw from him it horrified you. He then chuckled wickedly. His adrenaline was soaring, hence this was the first time he’s ever attempted doing a ritual for the better cause of his world. A world where everyone will know his name, plastered everywhere like billboards, magazines, articles, movies, TV shows…

“Oh, kidnapping and killing you? What the fuck do I look like, those fuckers you hear from True Crime? No… I’m Gojo fucking Satoru. I’m a fuckin’ star. The whole world is gonna know my name. A man like me deserves to have his name in spotlights. A man like me deserves to be the center of attention with all the flashing lights and the press running toward me for interviews. And once I sacrifice you to the devil, he’ll gift me popularity in return. This is the life I deserve and accept… And my bandmates? Their only use is making me my goddamn music. Nobody will care about them since they’ll be irrelevant compared to me.”

Your heart faltered, shaking your head rapidly at the shame Gojo forced you to endure. The shame for ever falling for him, the shame for drinking even though you couldn’t remember well if he was the one buying drinks, the shame for putting yourself in this situation.

“Sacrifice..?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” Gojo beamed enthusiastically, taking another heavy sip of his alcohol. “I’m linked with my demons and my devils now. Like fuck, do you know how hard it is to make it as an indie band these days? Of course you don’t, you’re literally a nobody. But this fucked up industry is only useful for their hyperfixation on a top celebrity and I’m gonna take advantage of that. And because of your ‘undying love’ you professed to me… the greater your admiration, the better my reward will be. The devil would love that.”

“No. No…”

Gojo shattered the wide bottom of his wine in the fire, watching the flames blooming greater. “You know, Y/N? I just— holy shit, I just had to fuckin’ break you! I just wanted to ruin you because you were my biggest fan and for the fun of it. If I made you the happiest woman alive tonight just by spending time with me like my fucking groupie or some shit… I could so easily take that away. Oh, Y/N. You should know better than to glorify your idols…”

When the shards from the bottle scattered, in the corner of your eye there was a tiny glass shard right next to you, sharp enough to free you from your ropes. Before Gojo could turn around, you grab it from the ground with your mouth and spit it right behind you for your hands to grab. Your heart was pounding erratically when he turned around, raising the weapon above you with both his hands as if he was holding a dagger, licking the bottom of his lips and chuckling deeply at your helplessness. Your eye immediately caught the shiny glints on the shattered wine bottle, catching your own horrified expression through the reflection.

“With the deepest malice, I deliver this broken woman onto thee,” he recited with charisma.

You went back to sobbing and crying out, tugging as hard as you could to break free but all you endured was the agonizing pain stinging your wrists. The blood flow from your fight or flight response being blocked was already turning your hands numb. Every inch of your fragile body was in pain from the fire and the agony. But luckily, you managed to get ahold of the shard clenched in your fists.

“Oh, come on. You’re too fucking pretty to be crying like that for me,” Gojo coaxed. “Sadly I can’t make any promises on how quick you want this to end. I mean— it is my first time murdering somebody. And for a really good cause, too!”

“Fuck you!” you spat out, your voice shaky from the tears welling down your aching face. With your rage fuming in your core, you forced yourself to glare sharply into the hypnotic eyes of the vile man one last time, your nose flaring with hatred and your jaw clenching tightly.

“I hope the whole world finds out what you’ve done,” you whispered, hefting a weak scoff. “Because once you do this… you’ll have to live with this memory forever. That on this Halloween night… you took an innocent woman’s life.”

Gojo, as insensitive and nonchalant about the situation he could be, replied with nothing but a scoff. He then lowered the bottle in his hands and squatted down to meet your eyes at the same level, deadpanning into you coldly.

“Let me tell you something. The whole world is too busy idolizing the most fucked up people. Whether I be famous as a talented singer, as a vile murderer, or maybe a fucking Satanist— this world will idolize me no matter what. Lots of women and men will continue swooning over me. My name and my face will appear everywhere, from articles to national billboards and TV. And I’ll never experience a downfall in this career I’m about to enter in, you know why? My fans will just blindly follow me like dogs. Flirt With Death will be the most successful indie rock band in Hollywood after I give Satan what he wants. Which is, a lucky woman like you.”

“Lucky? You’re a sick fucking bastard!” you cried out.

“Oh, but you are lucky!” Gojo bantered, slanting his head at you. “I’m even planning to write a song about you. You know, as my biggest fan, I think that’ll be pretty cool!”

He inched forward and held the back of your head with his right hand, soft caressing you as you sobbed uncontrollably. You were deep down repulsed from him caressing you and trying to comfort you as if you weren’t about to face a possible demise. But it was all a distraction for him while still cutting through the ropes slickly, even having to hurt yourself. You had no mental energy to flinch away from him or curse him to get off you. You just kept your eyes shut as he pressed his forehead against yours, taking in his scent that you used to admire but now fall physically sick from. Being in the presence of this man alone now made you ill.

“Shh, shh… I’m gonna count to three, and then it will be all over. Okay?”

“No, please!”

“Three!”

Your eyes immediately flung open and you threw your head back in an instant, head-butting him as hard as you could before he could grab the bottle off the ground. You screamed from the immense migraine pain throbbing constantly in your head, panting heavily as you slipped your wrists free from the ropes you managed to cut with the shard. Then, you cut through the ropes binding your legs, wincing from the shard cutting into your thighs from rushing to break free. As you stood up, Gojo started frowning after his temporary unconscious state. You had to run.

No, not run.

Burn his fucking body. Then run.

Before any innocent girl that Gojo may prey on could suffer through the same traumatic fate, you dragged his unresponsive body near the fire by holding under his arms, struggling from how heavy and strong he was. You were almost there, almost ready to run and embrace your freedom. The adrenaline rushing in your body was unbearable and you were deep down frightened. Your head was also still pounding after forcing all your strength and willpower to thrash into his head. But it was the best you could do to knock him out. You would do anything to survive.

“Got’cha!”

When Gojo’s eyes flung open and grabbed your ankle, you stumbled over and screamed, almost about to fall into the fire until he grabbed you and shoved you in a different direction. He got on top of you and got ahold of your struggling body, still screaming in agony and the unbearable pain scorching in your back from the wine bottle shards on the ground poking into you. He pinned down your bleeding wrists onto the ground and straddled on top of you. All of a sudden, you resorted back to crying from this unpredictable ultimatum. What you thought was a chance of survival had left you in a state of hopelessness.

“That was a fucking sick move back there,” Gojo marveled, breathing heavily into your face. “I admire your will to live, sweetie. I really do. But remember the promise you made to me when I fucked you at that party? As my groupie, you receive the honor of dying for me.”

“No!”

Before you know it, your eyes widen in horror at Gojo snatching a large shard off the ground and brutally stabbed it in your throat. You immediately gag and choke from the blood clogging in your throat after screaming in immense pain. Puddles of crimson clotted blood coat on the grass and soak your neck. You struggled to raise your arms to try and gouge his eyes, but your staggering strength began to falter. In fact, he kept repeatedly stabbing your throat. It didn't take long until your weakened, bruised, and ruined body grew numb. A sign of your beautiful life fading away tragically.

Moments later after gasping your last breath and dying right there, Gojo pulled out plastic gloves from his pocket and proceeded to cut open the middle of your chest to snatch your heart, which was perfectly unharmed. It made him gag a little, but he managed to fight it with his motivation. Your heart was the final offering piece for the ritual, and the gateway to his taste of success, fame, and fortune for Flirt With Death. For him mostly.

“I will remember this night,” Gojo whispered, grinning widely now that his dreams were right at his fingertips. He could feel it, he could taste it.

“I’ll brag to your face all about my new life when I meet you in Hell one day…”

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO ©. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access.

NOTES :: i know i’ve written a murder scene before in god’s whore but this one was a pain to write 💀 i’d also like to clarify that my depictions of nonconsentual sex, coercion, manipulation, and brutal murder are FICTIONAL and are NOT MEANT TO BE ROMANTICIZED OR GLORIFIED.

TAGS :: @nvmiloveu @shady-the-simp @umhicanihelpyou @neemuu @jaaaysblogg @lilacs-lavender @neko.sya @slashersluttt @eighties-milf @delicatedahlias @akiyaasworld @satoriluvs @yeetingmypencil @valoruzky @estrey @deitysdream @roseymae1234 @vintagexparker @savsxs @looveb4 @kristvns @saetoshis @gothbitch2078 @lustry106 @heartcigs @6bloody6bunny6 @etoariana @lilshades @dspria

[sixeyesgojo]

stuck.

Summary: To the one who shattered your heart. Sincerely.

Pairing: Gojo x Reader

Content warning: mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, commitment issues, heartbreak, heavy and toxic regret. "fuck you gojo" - from all of us

Word count: ~2k

Song: Hoa Minzy ft MR. SIRO - không thể cùng nhau suốt kiếp

A/N: I am finally done & I hope it's not tooo repetitive. I forgot how to write for a hot minute. Once again, I do not condone cheating and this is not how I see the character either; it's just a concept I wanted to write.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 (fin; coming!)

There was one moment Satoru recalled every now and then.

It was the sight of you sitting next to him in the dimly lit cinema auditorium. Satoru didn’t even recall the movie the two of you were watching together anymore, but he certainly remembered the way you implored him to come with you. Rather than watching the movie, he found his breath, usually steady and unfaltering, being taken away by you.

The way your face was illuminated by the reflection of the screen, twisted beautifully by emotion and excitement alike. The anguish flit over your face; just a flash of pain and then it was gone. You were so immersed in the story, not daring to look away from the screen in fear of missing any significant scenes. Suddenly, an unpleasant feeling bloomed in his chest. To have your attention even if only for an instant, that was what he so deeply craved in that moment. He couldn’t tell why that feeling suddenly appeared.

As if you had heard his thoughts, you turned to him. With a slightly sullen look on your face, you admonished him, “Aren’t you watching the movie, Satoru?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Satoru defended quickly, sinking back into his seat and glowering to nobody but himself. In truth, he couldn’t be happier for the shred of attention he’d gotten from you in that moment. However, he wasn’t able to hold out long. Concentrating on the movie was no easy feat. Time and time again, he caught himself looking at you. He had tried to fight the urge to reach out to touch your face, just to see if he had been dreaming in that moment or not.

Could it really be that simple? Could a fleeting moment really etch itself so deep on his memory, branding his very core?

If only this realization had hit sooner, perhaps he would have been a different man. A happier one. Satoru wouldn’t have been in the pit that he currently found himself in.

It was a mystery to him, what forces drove him to another bar and then another one yet again after he encountered you briefly after all these years, only to drown his guilt and consciousness in even more liquid poison. After all, it was one of those addictions that could numb his feelings and guilt.

It was nothing short of a miracle how he managed to do stumble home at 3:22 AM, considering that Satoru was drunk out of his mind.

With his view obscured and his speech slurred, Satoru staggered his way up the stairs, all the way up to his bedroom on the second floor. Of course, he had trouble walking straight, let alone entering his room. Yet, the drunk man managed to throw his body, not bothering to get changed, on his bed in order to rest. However, the privilege of falling asleep never came. Instead, he was plagued with old memories, ghosts of the past haunting him. Regrets he had banished from his mind and heart a long time ago resurfaced, as if to torment him anew.

Gathering what was left of his control, he teetered to his desk. As intoxicated as he was, he accidentally knocked his arm against the mahogany desk. Without regard to the bruise that was already forming on his arm, he opened the drawer that he usually didn’t dare open in fear of reliving the sins of his past. Yet, his body seemingly took over control and moved on its own accord. His hands, quivering, reached out to the drawer, hesitating for a brief moment.

In the drawer, he had hidden away certain items: a picture from at least a decade ago, when the two of you had been close friends, and a book that you used to read occasionally. The contents of the book were nothing special; rather than that, it was the envelope that he had found stuck in-between its pages a few years ago when he was sorting out junk before moving away.

The letter was specifically addressed to him. Yet he never had the guts to open it. The letter remained locked away in his desk. The dread of losing the remnants of whatever was left of his sanity kept him from doing so for the longest time. With alcohol clouding his mind and heart, part of him ached to know the contents of the letter intended for him before you cut him out of your life – understandably so – but certainly, you didn’t have any nice words to spare for filth like him, could you? His fingers twitched, wanting to open the envelope.

Curiosity won, an aftermath of drinking more than Satoru usually did. Even though the last bit of rationality in him rebelled against this idea in a strong protest, his current lack of restraint seemingly controlled his body.

Satoru cursed into the void. He would regret this in the morning, he was sure of it.

Despite having decided to let you go, why was it so hard for him to move on? Did he even have a right to move on?

The trembling fingers tore the already slightly yellow envelope open, revealing a paper covered with partly smudged handwriting: your handwriting. Even with his hazy vision, Satoru was able to make out the letters and words. 

Satoru,

Gojo,

This letter will probably never reach you. I’m writing this solely to get it off my chest and then… I’ll probably burn it.

You know, when someone you love so dearly hurts you… at some point you just give up. Now I look back to our shared past… Not in my wildest dreams have I ever thought that our my most precious memories with the person I treasure the most would tear me apart. Was it wrong to entrust my heart to you?

Back then when you first revealed it… I already had a hunch. I think.

I was happy when I heard your answer. Happy whenever you held my hand. Happy whenever we shared a kiss. Some might even say I was lucky to have you, and I genuinely believed that too.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. Bit by bit, the bond we shared changed and I thought that was normal for friends who became lovers, lost in the bliss you gave me. I was just someone madly in love. Thinking you were the one for me. Eventually, I didn’t really recognize ‘us’ as friends anymore.

However, I learned the hard way that nothing lasts forever. That is the bitter and raw truth.

Deep down, I felt that something was off. It was something remote that I couldn’t name. It became odd. Was it that we weren’t meant to be? I chose to ignore it, brush it aside. “It will get better, right?” That’s what went through my mind. Over and over and over again, like a mantra. What a mistake thinking that was. Thought maybe you just needed some space from me but gradually, you distanced yourself more and more.

I didn’t want to listen to the voice of reason in my mind; I denied it for as long as possible as it became more obvious with each passing day. I tried to hide that broken love, scared of losing you. Trying to keep my heart safe and “us”… until one day, I felt like I didn’t know you anymore. Every day, I ask myself: What has caused you to walk away from me? It still torments me.

Maybe it’s partly my fault for never speaking up about it. I admit, I was a coward. Owing to the fact that I am hesitant right now: I am sure I still am.

I refused to believe it for the longest time. Was I not pretty enough for you? Was I not good enough? Tell me where it went wrong…

There was a lesson I learned: One’s demise is another one’s luck. However, my love for you was too strong because in the end, I still put your happiness above my misery. Even to me, this was ridiculously unreasonable. What could be more insane than still harboring love for you after being betrayed? Yet, I still did. With all my heart even. It’s pathetic, right?

It’s going to be hard without you. Even now, parts of you are imprinted within whatever is left of me. Our love is gone, so why am I the only one still indulging in the past? I can’t undo the sweet whispers, the touches, the promises. All of that will stay with me for a long, long time. And I hate you for this.

But let me take this chance. For one last time, I will say: I love you. And I miss you. I miss us and what we had.

My only wish is that somewhere, you’re crying for me too.

Tears ran across his face. Your words resonated deeply in his heart. As if he could feel the pain that you had gone through because of him, he broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. The realization came too late.

A thousand words – no, not even a trillion words of apology could reverse the damage he had done to you.

Loathing his existence and what his younger self had done to you, the broken man found himself sobbing even harder. Eventually, Satoru fell asleep with crystalline tears dropping from his eyes.

The next morning, he didn’t wake up on his own until an old friend of both of you called him on his phone: Nanami. Remembering that he was supposed to meet up with Nanami, he hastily got up to brush his teeth and change his clothes. Satoru wasn’t looking forward to Nanami’s snarky comments, even if he was absolutely right.

To Satoru’s surprise, Nanami’s comments weren’t that abrasive. On the contrary, Nanami’s face bore a rather pitying expression.

“Wow. Real catch you are. You look like a mess,” he said.

“Thanks. Not only do I look like it, I feel like it too,” Satoru grumbled.

 “Tell me, how much did you drink?” Nanami asked, sitting down. “A lot. I don’t know,” Satoru admitted. He had stopped counting his shots and drinks after some time. What was the use of doing that anyway? Right, there was none. It wasn’t like he paid attention to his limit, or anything at all.

“You have to stop drowning your sorrows in alcohol. It doesn’t lessen the pain,” Nanami looked at his old friend with concern. Despite not having condoned Satoru’s sins, Nanami couldn’t bear to see his miserable friend sink into despair. He had done a lot to help the other man.

“But it numbs my feelings,” Satoru answered.

“Only temporarily. After that you go back to the same old cycle.”

“I don’t know why I did that nor could I stop doing it. I saw that person again. That’s one of the few things I remember from last night. And reading the letter,” he explained, gripping his chest hard. “The letter Y/N wrote a few years ago?” Nanami asked. The white-haired man nodded. He knew that his old friend was familiar with the contents of the letter, considering he’d been friends with you for longer than Satoru himself had been.

“I think I understand what Y/N must have felt now. The pain, the helplessness, the anguish, all of that. I was an asshole,” Satoru acknowledged. Having intently listened to his words, Nanami spoke, “I think it’s good that you are acknowledging the fact that you were indeed a douchebag, but you have to accept that there is no going back to that time. Move on, learn from your past mistakes, do better. That’s all I can tell you as a friend and all you can do for the future.”

Looking out of the window, Satoru sighed as if to relieve the ache. “I know. And I appreciate you being here for someone like me. I really do.”

You were just two kids, too young and dumb in your own respective ways: you, for staying with someone who hadn’t been faithful to you, and him, for not realizing your worth until it was too late.

Why did he fall so hard, knowing he couldn’t go back to that time to mend his ways?

Still, Satoru was going to pray for your happiness. Because you deserved happiness after all he put your heart and soul through. As for him, guilt plagued his mind and regret ripped his heart apart. He was stuck in his past, a never-ending loop.

If there had been a way to mend these shattered bonds earlier, Satoru would have given his soul without hesitating. But now, there was nothing left to mend.

Tags: @shirohyorin @cursedmoonchild @thissilverbadger @aceilora @shuxjodie @doulcha @moon-catto @canthebest1 @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn

[lavenderdreams22]

Happiest - s.h.

Steve watched her sleep, her breathing even and her face peaceful. Anytime that he was able to really look at her, he was overwhelmed by how lucky he was to have her. She had always been beautiful, and when they were younger, he often found himself watching her in the classes they shared or in the lunchroom from several tables over. He loved the way that her laugh sounded like music and how her voice was soft and sweet and how she smelled of lavender and jasmine. Everything about her was intoxicating. 

Then they had graduated, and she had gone off to college. He never thought that he would see her again. Until one day, while he was working at Family Video with Robin, she came in. Her hand was interlocked with some man that he had never seen, and even though it had been a couple of years since he had last seen her, he felt his heart clench at the thought of someone else being the one to hold her, even if it was just her hand. 

She had recognized him, of course. Who wouldn’t recognize the “It Boy” of Hawkins High (her words, not his). She grinned at him in a way that he had never seen before, and Robin went utterly silent as she watched her best friend fumble for words. Steve had gone through a rough patch with girls, but Robin had thought he had made it out of the woods. That is, until she saw the way he struggled to form a sentence and the way that his jaw clenched as he eyed the man who was, in turn, eyeing him with a stare that would send anyone else running for the hills. 

Robin wasn’t rendered speechless very often, but she stepped back, arms crossed, and leaned against the counter as she watched the scene unfold in front of her.

“Steve, hi!” She grinned, “How have you been? It’s been awhile.”

“Hi, yeah. I’ve been good. How have you been? How’s college treating you? When did you get back to town?” Steve was rambling, but he couldn’t help it. He had never had her undivided attention on him before, and it was making his hands sweat.

“Oh, good! I’m moving back in a few months, just came back to find a place.” She smiled up at the man beside her, who watched her with a straight face before turning his attention to Robin. Her smile faltered. Steve balled his fists with the sudden urge to hit something. 

“I’ve heard there are some good openings over on Johnson.” Steve said through clenched teeth. 

“Oh, sweet! We will have to look at those!” Your smile returned, and Steve felt himself relax a bit. 

The two of them had gotten a movie, an Action flick. Steve knew that it hadn’t been her choice from her face alone as he rang them up. As they left, Robin laughed.

“What the hell was that, Harrington?” She asked, “Do you have a thing for Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Shut up.” Was all Steve said before setting off into the back room for his break.

*****

The next time he saw her was exactly two months later, but she was alone. She came in, pushing her sunglasses onto the top of her head as the bell rang. She scanned the room a bit before her eyes landed on him in the corner, stocking movies. Steve was focused on his task, so he hadn’t spotted her yet, but as she passed Robin, she offered her a small wave, and came up behind him.

“You know, I’ve heard that ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ is a good one.” She said, causing Steve to nearly jump out of his skin.

Robin laughed loudly from her spot behind the counter. Steve shot his friend a crippling glare before turning to her, his eyes wide.

“It’s pretty good from what I’ve heard. I haven’t seen it yet.” Steve shrugged.

“Well, maybe we could watch it sometime. Together?” She asked. “It’d be nice to catch up.” 

“You sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind if we hung out?” Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“I don’t think so.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Especially considering we broke up.” With a shrug, she moved to the other side of the shelves, Steve following hot on her heels. 

“Oh, shit. Sorry, I had no idea.” He stopped short to avoid knocking into her as she stopped suddenly, turning back to face him.

Robin rolled her eyes, turning to the computer behind her to try to make herself look busy.

“Oh, it’s alright.” She shrugged again, “That relationship had run its course. He was kind of an asshole.” 

“Gotcha. Well, I would love to see that movie with you.” Steve held the VHS out to her, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as her fingers brushed his when she took it from him.

“Awesome,” She smiled. “I’ve got boxes everywhere, but if you’d like, we can watch at mine. I live in the apartments off of Johnson.” 

She winked, and his stomach did somersaults as he nodded. She had gotten the ones he suggested, and he tried desperately not to think too much into it.

“Is that a yes?” She was suppressing a smirk.

“Yes, yeah. Your place works. When?” He asked, his voice coming out rushed and a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“When are you off?” She cocked her head to the side.

“9:30.” He tried his best to focus on his breathing. Having her in this close of proximity was overwhelming.

“9:30 works for me.” She gave him back the VHS, winking. “You can bring the movie, I’ll get some snacks.”

His mouth went dry as he nodded at her. Her grin only widened, her eyes scanning his face, not missing the blush that was now covering his face and neck. 

****

When he got to her place, he couldn’t stop his hands from sweating, which seemed to be the new normal when he was around her, as he knocked on her apartment door. There was rustling inside before she came to the door, wearing the dress that she had been in earlier that day. Steve let his eyes wander for a moment before he met her eyes again. She rolled her eyes playfully before stepping to the side to let him in.

“C’mon in. Make yourself at home.” 

The rest of the night was spent with the two of them talking, faces only inches apart. Everything felt so natural between them, and Steve found himself thinking again how her lips would taste. 

She leaned forward, her breath fanning over his face as she whispered, “If you’re thinking of kissing me, Steve, just do it.”

He met her eyes again, searching for the confirmation that she was really okay before he surged forward. Her lips were everything that he had imagined they would be, soft and tasting of cherry Chapstick. From that night on, the two of them spent nearly every waking moment together, whether it be alone or with some of Steve’s other friends or the kids. 

*****

Neither of them were sure when it had become official. All they knew is that slowly, over the course of about 6 months, Steve had all but moved into her cozy little apartment on Johnson. One afternoon in late September, she handed him a key. He eyed it for a moment before she giggled.

“It’s a key to the apartment. Figure we should go ahead and make it official. If you want to move in, that is.” 

“Of course I want to.” His breath caught in his throat as he pulled her into a kiss, his hands gently holding onto her jaw. 

“Good,” She mumbled into his lips, “I want to be able to kiss you whenever I want.” 

*****

Steve had been in love with other people before, but never in this way. He had never felt earth shattering, world altering love before. And as he watched her sleep, he was sure that this was all he would ever need. He reached over to carefully brush the hair out of her face, thanking the stars, or god, or whatever else was out there for bringing her back to him. 

“I’m going to marry you someday, Y/N.” He whispered before leaning over and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I’ll do anything it takes to make you the happiest woman on the planet.”

“I already am, Steve.” She mumbled, popping open an eye to look at him. 

He grinned at her, pressing another kiss to her forehead, and then another to her lips before he laid back down, pulling the comforter up to his neck. He was the happiest he had ever been, too. And he had her to thank for that.

[6irlpet]

i’m here and horny again bc i forgot to take my SSRI for a week. just sharing that i tried to finally sit down and make a kink bucket list instead of keeping a vague mental one and it was so long and disgusting that tumblr wouldn’t save it in drafts and it had to go in a google doc. also writing it made me so turned on i had to hump a pillow while typing

anyway here are some of the highlights

be choked until i pass out

get nipples & clit hood pierced

intox scene, be forced to get high then played with (may be happening this summer! fwb promised it, if i can allow myself to be vulnerable! we’ll see)

get spanked until i’m sobbing and begging and almost at safeword point

sleep in bondage in a cage (preferably both at same time and preferably this happens semi frequently)

roleplay an abduction, complete with being tied and put in car trunk and driven somewhere private to be fucked

roleplay cnc scene where i genuinely do try to fight back and get naturally overpowered

be pissed on ☺️ in general for humiliation whenever dom wants but also on/in cunt, in ass, and on tits ☺️☺️☺️

facesitting!!!!!!!!! i want to be smothered and pass out

be hogtied on stomach btwn partner’s legs under blanket while they watch tv or read in bed and i have to cock/clitwarm or just be squeezed between their thighs breathing them in until they want me

give consent for partner to slip edibles/sleep aides in my food one random night out of a given week and use me while passed out (bonus points for filming it and making me watch)

get hypnotized in person!!!!! a Lot. heavy brain fuckery. fellas is it gay to be gaslit and brainwashed

own & wear locked collar that only owner has key to

get obedience training with a shock collar

be tied down and have partner stretch my cunt going up through sizes of toys no matter how hard i cry until they can fist me, film the first time im fisted and upload it anonymously online so ppl can see when my cunt was ruined

give head in public bathroom and/or dressing room

mile high club attempt

get strapped down in immobilized hooded bondage with cock gag + fucking machine in cunt + inflatable plug in ass + wand on clit + hypnosis in earbuds and left for hours

have my ass and cunt and tits caned + belt + flogged (all three of them)

have a ruined orgasm from having clit spanked

have a period of 24/7 TPE being my partner’s slave, getting face slapped + bent over for spanking immediately if i touch or speak without permission or say things like “i think / i want” , forget what my neck feels like without a collar

have a period of time where partner does daily spanking + daily edging + daily bondage + daily brainwashing on me 🥺 i want to be a pet covered in bruises

wear one of them fancy metal chastity belts…. especially plugged + maybe dildo/remote vibe in if im good

be hypnotized to have certain triggers that dom will drop into conversation randomly so im their puppet whenever they want

lots of icky casual semi-public dominance, like toys under clothes and not being allowed to speak and being led around by grip on my wrist

be ordered to edge while on a long road trip + sit in passenger seat with legs spread so partner can slap and pinch and rub my clit when bored as they drive

wake up naked and tied to bed ready for torture!

sleep on floor or pet bed with collar chained to bedpost

have nipples pumped by one of those hardcore milk suckers while partner does uhhh whatever they want to the rest of my body and i endure it

be fucked in all three holes at once + be spitroasted ☺️

crawl and worship boots before being kicked onto my back to beg like a dog for my cunt to be stepped on, be mocked and ordered to hump it even though the boot sole grinds on my clit

be kept helpless in straitjacket + hooded + gagged, thrown in cage like that or try to squirm around until im paid attention to again

get to call a partner daddy/mommy…. it will change my brain chemistry forever i know it

get face slapped at random and called affectionate things like dumb cunt, dumb dog, stupid bitch, slave, fleshlight etc

be tied down and edged for hours until i genuinely can’t take it anymore and cry/beg and be told crying isn’t a safeword. continue until i do safeword out and still don’t let me cum, in fact ice my cunt and lock a chastity belt on before cuddling and make me thank them for not letting me cum

be trained to respond to certain commands with an action (like holding poses, getting on knees, presenting, cockwarm etc) (training can be shock collar if im not fast enough)

have scene being given orders in a language i dont speak and be punished when i dont figure it out fast enough

be forced to drink water continuously and try my best to hold as long as i can until i genuinely lose control over my body and break and piss myself + be mocked and punished for it even tho i never had a chance

be shared with partner’s friends (especially getting them off when they come over, everyone hanging out talking while im on my knees making sure everyone cums in my mouth)

have partner choose a piercing for me (bonus: get it done by kinky acquaintance so that i’m made to thank them with oral)

be in dynamic with random dominance/degradation whenever we have shared signal it’s ok (bracelet or something idk) like randomly being told to get off furniture and stay on floor like a dog, being casually told im not allowed to speak again til they say so, be free use for groping and fucking, have clothes picked out or not be allowed to wear any, can only crawl, etc etc literally anything they decide within hard limits

be fucked with an ovipositor so my cunt is stuffed with the eggs (esp duct taped shut and have to be uncomfortably full warming them for as long as partner wants)

have gag reflex trained and get face fucked

give head to dom who’s getting high and tapping out the ashes on my tits… im kneeling pathetically hoping they give me permission to grind on their leg…. let them put joint out on my skin (pubic area or ass especially)…. 🥴

be tied down to have as many ice cubes shoved in my cunt and ass as can fit, be fucked when they melt so i can barely feel anything

live in enforced denial, have no say over if or when i cum, no warning if they’re gonna ruin the orgasm when they do say they’ll let me cum, be under someone’s control and surveillance so im devoted and obedient and take whatever they give me + service them how they like

ok i think im running out of room but yeah.

i desperately need to get over my fear of being vulnerable and Naked and perceived with my extremely submissive headspace and just find another freak to play with omggggg

my fwb is down for most of this but im embarrassed of how i slip almost into a trance headspace when im aroused where im needy and pathetic and shameless and begging to be objectified and used … in front of s friend even tho i know shes chill rip 😭 so i usually top even tho i dont rly feel anything for it…i wanna do all of these and be in dynamic even platonic where we do all these and whatever else they want to get their stress out or amuse them 😔

god i get so turned on by the possibility of someone wanting to hurt and torment me like this … ahdjshdk there is a fucking puddle in my pants rn help

[oh-austin]

going method, part four (austin butler)

summary: you're playing priscilla presley in the new elvis biopic, when your co-star asks you if you would like to date him during the filming of the movie to better understand elvis and priscilla's relationship.

word count: 3,442

authors note / warnings: no warnings! oh my god, celeste actually posting something??? FINALLY here is the fourth part of going method, life has its claws in me at the moment, but I've finally been able to finish this part. hopefully you all like it &lt;3

series masterlist / previous + next part

────── ∘◦❀◦∘

It was something of a fire, a flame. 

That’s how you would describe it. It started from just a small spark, you and Austin. His hand brushing against yours on set. Him making you dinner and laying on carpeted floors with you for hours on end. You making sure he was well-rested and that he was taking care of himself. Those were your sparks.

Eventually, those sparks grew and grew. Walking onto set holding hands became a regular thing. The crew were now accustomed to you both placing gentle kisses on each other’s cheeks in between takes. Everyone could see the sparks.

The thing is, sparks have potential to go one of two ways- fireworks: big, bright and beautiful- or flames: ravaging and unforgiving.

That’s where you were at the moment, caught in the flames of Austin Butler. His eyes, his smile- they were just intoxicating and you were always waiting on the edge for your next hit of him; but he was unobtainable.

You couldn’t help but let your stomach ache whenever you watched him flirt with the extras during takes. Your brain couldn’t switch off and accept that it was scripted, but then again, so was your entire relationship. Based off of two people that you and Austin could never be and once production was finished, you both would be too. It was a cruel reality that sat just out of reach. 

You tried to not let it upset you, but it did. You doubted every hand-hold and every kiss on the cheek. You couldn’t help it. It was inevitable. 

You reminded yourself of that as you sat next to Tom, ready to film the burning love scene at the international. If you weren’t sat on a soundstage, you would have thought you were in the real venue. The lights were dimmed over you, all of them directed at Austin who was in a white jumpsuit- tassels hanging from his skinny waist. 

Sat in your own world, you watched as Baz spoke on stage to Austin. You knew how this scene went, Austin sang, you clapped, he kissed 29 extras, you acted like you didn’t care- just like Priscilla had to. You were amazed at how strong her heart would have had to be to love Elvis, you would never have the strength to hold on like she did. 

“You okay, kid?” Tom asked. You broke out of your thoughts, looking up at him as he stood in front of you. He always knew when something was wrong, you never knew how he could read people so well. “You seem down,” He sat down next to you.

“I’m okay,” You nodded, “Just-“ You sighed- “I don’t even know,” You shook your head. You weren’t completely lying, you didn’t know how you found yourself in this situation. You were an actress, strictly ‘dating’ Austin within a professional sense for the film. How you let your heart get in the way of your head, you weren’t sure, but you were beginning to regret it. 

“I’m here if you need to talk,” He shrugged, his eyebrows raised at you, “Could be good for you, can’t keep everything inside,”

You smiled, “I know, just feels a little easier sometimes”. Tom offered you a slightly confused look, he opened his mouth about to pry some more, but Baz talking through the sound system cut him off. Everyone prepped for the scene, extras were clumped together all around the soundstage and Tom stood back up moving to his marker. 

A woman from hair came over to you and fixed your beehive, you thanked her softly as Baz called for quiet. 

“Action!”

You lost count of how many times they had to film Austin’s performance, but you didn’t mind watching it over and over. He was enchanting on that stage, a true vision of Elvis Presley. 

Since his breakdown, he had been trying to make a more conscious effort to take care of himself. Austin would eat lunch whenever he could, having his assistant bring food over to him in between takes. You noticed him carrying his water bottle everywhere. Sometimes you regret how harshly you spoke to him when he was in such a vulnerable state, but maybe he needed it. Austin told you that he needed it, that he was grateful for you.

Baz set up for the post-performance portion of the scene. He came jogged from the stage and Austin to you and Tom, shooting directions at the two of you. You stood up in your glittery pink dress, trying to hear him better. 

Austin watched you from the stage, your face not as focused as it usually would be when speaking to Baz. He made a mental note to check on you after the scene.

He admired how quickly you were able to shift your real emotions off when acting, he really felt like Priscilla was sitting there was him, watching Elvis. “I’d like to introduce to you a couple of people tonight,” Austin spoke, “One of which being my beautiful wife, Priscilla”. The extras cheered on cue, Austin pointed at you. “Would you stand up, honey?” You looked around with a hesitant look, as the follow-spot shined on your skin. You stood up quickly with a smile before sitting back down. You watched as Austin delivered the rest of his lines, introducing Suspicious Minds.

Baz called cut and you reshot the scene three more times before a five minute break as they set Austin up for the Suspicious Minds performance. You made eye contact with Tom as a makeup artist touched him up, he squinted at you jokingly. You did it back. You could tell he was eager to speak with you and make sure you were alright. 

Maisie, your assistant, came over and spoke with you quickly- saving you from having to admit your feelings for your co-star to the Tom Hanks. Although, you were sure he wouldn’t judge you, you were afraid to admit it aloud. 

“After this, we’ll take it from scene forty-four. After the show with ‘Cilla and Elvis,” Baz announced over the sound system, looking over at you for your conformation. You shot him a tight lipped smile and a thumbs up, ready for your next scene. 

When Baz called Action once again, the soundtrack blared from the speakers. Suspicious Minds had always been one of your favourite Elvis songs, but seeing Austin perform it just made it so much more magic. You tried your best to keep acting whilst watching, but it was hard to stay in character when he was just so mesmerising. Austin moved around the stage, coming down onto the ground floor where you sat and all the extras screamed for him. 

He made his way through the crowd and as he stopped in front of you, almost as if he was taunting you, he mumbled a soft ‘Hey Darlin’’ to the extra in front of your table and kissed her. Then he kissed the extra next to her, and the one after that, and the one after that. You were acting sure, but you knew that your heart dropping into the bottom of your chest wasn’t. That was real sorrow. 

Baz made everyone reshoot that scene more times than you could count on your hands. It never got any easier to watch, maybe worse. You thought about Austin’s lips on all of those womens. All of theirs and never yours. Sure, his as Elvis and yours as Priscilla- but never his on yours. That was what hurt the most. 

You were almost angry with yourself, being so emotional and god forbid- unprofessional. This isn’t who you are. You are an actress, this is a job- one that you are damn good at, but at the moment, you knew you were letting yourself down.

“Pick it up from ‘Cilla coming in,” Baz called, “And ready, mark- action!”

“There she is,” Austin’s face lit up as he looked at you, your heart stopped, but you kept walking towards him. You brought his face into your hands, your breaths light and airy- in awe of his performance- acting or not, you weren’t sure. 

“Oh, god. I don’t know who that was out there!” You pulled him a little closer than before, so close his lips were ghosting over your own. “You were… you…You were incredible. You were…You were everything” Austin pulled you in tight for a hug, you felt the swear that dripped from his head on your skin. You pulled away from Austin, but stayed in his arms as you looked over at Tom. “Mr. Elvis Presley, I guess that’s your new manager over there,” You raised your eyebrows.

“Mmm,” Austin nodded sheepishly.

“Mmm-hmm,” You nodded as well, a little intrigued, a little mad and disappointed.

“Yeah. I’m gonna go talk to him, all right?” Austin said quietly, his face inches away from yours.

“Okay” You nodded, resting your head against his face.

“You okay to get upstairs, baby?” Austin asked, pulling back from you again.

“Mmm-hmm, yeah” Austin kissed your forehead before walking from his mark and off from the cameras.

“Cut!” Baz called.

You didn’t speak to Austin in between takes. When you filmed your scene together again, you just spoke to Maisie and Baz- trying your best to not catch his piercing gaze if you didn’t have to. When he called you baby, you tried to not let your feet fall from underneath you. There was your hit you were waiting for, scripted or not.

Baz soon called a longer break. You weren’t shooting anything for another hour, letting the crew set up the next stage. You left the soundstage, Tom helping you down and off of the large steps. Austin went to go and chase after you, cursing mentally when Baz called him back to talk. Something was wrong and now he was sure of it.

As soon as Baz was done speaking to him, Austin rushed to wardrobe to get out of his outfit and into something casual until he was due back for his next outfit change. Austin wished he kept his phone on him instead of in his trailer, wanting to know how much time he had to talk to you before he was needed next.

You weren’t hard to find. Your trailer was a few back from his. PRISCILLA, was written in black marker on the door label. 

Part of him didn’t want to knock, just burst in and make sure you were okay, but his mother raised him better than that. Austin knocked twice and when you didn’t respond- he wondered if you were somewhere else, but you opened the door. 

You were still in your pink dress, it was scarily short, but you looked fantastic in it and you knew it. “Hey,” Austin breathed out, he was lost for words- he hadn’t actually thought of how to check up on you, or what to say. 

“Hi,” You seemed short with him, you were short with him. You crossed your arms over your chest as you stood there, feeling insecure so exposed in front of Austin. ��What’s up?” You asked.

Austin wanted to laugh, “What’s up with me?” He asked, “What’s up with you? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You shook your head, “I’m good,”

“Please don’t lie to me right now,” He said. You remembered saying the same thing to Austin over a week ago in his trailer. You could sense the genuine concern in his voice, but you weren’t about to have this big of a conversation with him on such a busy filming day. 

He was a star, you were there to support him; everyone was. You weren’t going to put your thoughts and feelings on top of him while he was going through what he was. He was just starting to focus on himself, you don’t need to take him away from that. 

“Austin,” You sighed, “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine,” 

“Y/N, please baby. Can we talk about this-“

“Austin,” You cut him off, stepping down from your trailer so you were on the ground with him. “I really am okay,” You shrugged, “Just having a bad day,” 

“Well, why? What’s happened?” He grabbed both of your arms, pulling you in closer him. You could smell his cologne mixed with his sweat from performing. He looked tired, but somehow still beautiful. 

“Nothing really happened,” You shook your head, “People have bad days, you know? I’m tired, I don’t think I’m paying enough attention as I should be today. My mind is just-“ You took a deep breath before letting it go- “It’s anywhere else than where it needs to be,” You admitted. Anywhere else being on Austin, your mind always seemed to be on Austin.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, “We could’ve talked about it?” 

“Because, I didn’t need to” A lie, “And if I did, I would’ve,” 

“Come ‘ere” Austin pulled you into his arms and rested his cheek on top of your head. He took a deep breath, finding solace in your smaller frame. You didn’t want to hug him back, you knew that it would only hurt more. You couldn’t help yourself though, he truly was addictive.

You leant into his touch and allowed him to hold you tighter than he had before. You could’ve broken down then and there, good thing you’re a great actress.

“I’m right here,” He whispered into your hair, “You know that right?” 

You felt your eyes well-up with tears. You suppressed them the best you could before responding, “I know,” You whispered. 

“Hey,” Austin pulled away, looking down at you. He gently grabbed hold of your face with both of his hands and pulled you in closer. “How ‘bout we go out tonight? Have a nice night together, just me and you. No cameras, no PAs- just us,”

Your head begged you to say no. Tell him that you were planning on heading straight to sleep as soon as you got back to your apartment, but your heart let you dance into the flames. 

“I would love that,”

─── ∘◦❀◦∘

For as long as you had been in Australia, you never actually visited a beach besides your very first week in the country. You wished you had made more of an effort to go, especially after seeing the sunset meld into the bottom of the horizon. You couldn’t help but think about how lucky Austin was to be in an apartment so close to the waterfront, yours around 10 minutes away- his a walk down the street.

“You’re not dressed warm at all,” Was the first thing that Austin said when he saw you, “You’ll freeze when the sun sets,”

“I’ll be fine,” You chuckled, “What’s that?”. You looked at Austin as he picked up a plastic bag from his kitchen bench. 

“A surprise,” He shrugged with a smile, “You’ll have to wait, patience is a virtue, mamas,” He leant down over you. You smelt the fresh spray of cologne that he must have put on. He looked gorgeous, a black hoodie and pants on, a pair of brown boots on his feet. You were in a t-shirt and leggings. “Give me a sec, I’ll be back,” Austin disappeared down the hallway. 

When he returned, he had a long sleeve white shirt and baggy sweatpants folded in his hands. He held them out to you. “I’m serious when I say you’ll freeze, please wear them,”.

You looked at the clothes with hesitation, but took them nonetheless. You excused yourself quietly, with a small ‘i’ll be right back’ and went into his bathroom.

You stripped out of your clothes, your feet cold against the bitter tiles on the bathroom floor. You felt your nose run slightly as you slipped on Austin’s shirt. It was big on you, but soft and comfortable. Once dressed you called for Austin, “Hey Austin,” You poked your head out of the door. He looked up at you, he seemed a little worried almost. 

“You okay?” He asked you.

“Do you have tissues in here?” You felt slightly embarrassed asking for them. You worried he would think you were gross, you let your brain run wild with pathetic worry. 

“Yeah, in the cupboard under the sink-“ He walked closer, “You alright?”

“Uh, yeah-“ You shook your head, “My nose is just running a little,” You wanted to the ground to swallow you whole. Such a basic ask made you feel so vulnerable. 

“Did you want to stay inside?” Austin was standing at the door now, “Are you sick?” His hand went to your forehead, trying to feel for a fever. 

“No,” You laughed slightly as his worry, “Just need to blow my nose,” 

“Okay,” Austin nodded with a whisper, “Let me know if you feel worse and we’ll stay here, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You nodded, closing the door again. You rested your head in your hands, sighing at how embarrassed you felt. You knew it was stupid to feel embarrassed over something so small, but you couldn’t help it in front of Austin. 

You opened the cupboard underneath the sink and pulled out the box of tissues. Your eye caught a little basket with a lid, sitting in the corner; your name scrawled in Austin’s handwriting on the top of it. Curious, you pulled the box out and put it on top of the counter too. 

When you opened it, you were no longer upset; all your bad emotions from your crappy day fell from your shoulders. In the box sat, a box of tampons, pads and liners, a bottle of your face wash and an old shirt that you had seen Austin wear to set once. You could’ve cried. You wanted to cry. 

Instead, you sniffed as you blinked away the faint tears that had glazed over your eyes and put the box back underneath the sink where you found it. You quickly blew your nose and wiped your eyes before heading back out to Austin.

“Okay, I’ve got a blanket, some towels and some other stuff too,” The pile of things Austin had been holding before multiplied by three by the time you returned. 

“Towels? We’re not swimming are we?” Your eyes widened.

“No!” Austin laughed, “Just to sit on". Austin managed to somehow open the front door for you, even with all of the contents in his arms. You thanked him softly, before holding it open for him.

"Do you want me to help carry something?" You asked him, trying to find his eyes that were hidden from the overspilling amount of things Austin was trying to bring.

"S'all good, baby" Austin chuckled. You rolled your eyes, before taking the two beach towels from his pile of things. You could finally see his face. He thanked you quietly and you both left his apartment.

The walk to the beach was quiet, Austin’s hand hung scarily close to yours by the time your toes reached the sand. You found a quiet spot, far away from where the tide was ebbing and flowing. Austin wrapped the blanket around your shoulders as you sat next to him. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” He asked, leaning on one of his arms to be closer to you. You saw the frown line in his forehead deepen as he asked. 

“I promise you, I’m okay” For the first time today when Austin asked you, you told him the truth. In this moment, you were content and happy. No lingering senes of anger or upset, as you watched him kiss woman are woman. Just the two of you on a beach, all alone. 

For the next two hours, you and Austin sat side by side. Telling stories, laughing and reminiscing of all of your little moments together. You hand sat on the sand just next to his, you contemplated holding it- taking that small extra step just the two of you.

Your thoughts were interrupted by his warm touch, Austin had brought his hand on top of yours. You looked up at him, he was already looking over at you. A comfortable silence with the potential to be more sat in between you both. You looked at his lips, you couldn’t help it. He noticed, a smirk ghosting over his lips. You looked back towards the water shyly. 

Austin let out a breathy laugh and pulled you into his arms, tucking you under his shoulder and for the rest of the night you both sat there together; ignoring your early call times and responsibilities- just enjoying your own little world.

@rainydayz101 @sammybutler @klizzie93 @rockerchick05 @fanatics30 @sh-aniah @little-rythmix @austinsrealgf @hallecarey1 @catertotshitposts @abloversblog @inkpot-winters @adrientte715 @gabrielajimenez @butler-trouble @rodrig-hoe @b1llzb1tch @duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh @behindmygreyeyes @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @teti-menchon0604 @sparklemarysunshine @xy05m @onecrazydirectioner @knivqs

( crossed out are the beautiful people it wouldn't let me tag, if you have changed your username feel free to send me an ask and let me know so I can update it for you ) 

[ateezreactionsandscenarios]

The Roommate Agreement - Chapter 2

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Reader

Genre: Slice of life, angst.

CW: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of being evicted.

Word Count: 3160

Summary: You try to get away from your anxieties even if it’s only for a few hours, but one meltdown leads to a possible solution being thrown your way.

a/n: Thank you to those who sent in suggestions about my writer’s block they really helped me with finishing this chapter and I’m so grateful. Let’s hope I can keep this up for my other works. 

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As you and Yeosang turn a corner you could hear the music blaring from Yunho’s house and see a swarm of already drunk people filtering out through the door just to drink outside. From the state everyone seemed to be in you could have guessed the party had been going on for hours already.

Yeosang is the first to step inside, checking you were still behind him before he went off to find Yunho. You barely got through the door before a very intoxicated Mingi found you, throwing himself onto you in a heavy drunken hug with flailing limbs.

“Y/n, you made it.” He shouted over the music, his speech very slurred to the point you could just about understand him.

“How much have you had to drink Mingi?” You ask with a giggle pushing him off you by the shoulders and holding him still. He took a moment to answer your question, counting his drinks on his fingers.

“3.” He replied holding up 5 fingers making you laugh since the action alone gave you a rough idea as to how many he’s had already.

“I’m so happy you’re here y/n it’s never the same without you, you’re so great.” He whines wrapping you in another hug, the beer from the bottle in his hand spilling on you a little as he throws his arms over you. 

“Thank you Mingi.” You smile accepting that this is now your fate, spending the night wrapped in a tight Mingi bear hug.

“Oh shit, you don’t have a drink, come with me!” Next thing you knew you were getting pulled through the crowd by your wrist heading towards the kitchen. You were grateful it was slightly quieter, you didn’t need to strain to hear Mingi talk to you and you could actually hear your thoughts again. Mingi stumbled all over the place grabbing you a cup and looking for a bottle of something to fill it with. You had to admit the scene was entertaining to say the least, the way his tongue stuck out slightly as he concentrated on every minor action. 

Then he got to pouring the drink, the concentration clear on his face and his tongue sticking out further as he got a good grip on the bottle before pouring, missing the cup completely.

“Mingi, sweetie, I’ll do it it’s okay thank you.” You jump in carefully pulling the bottle from him and setting it down so you could clean up the mess he’d made. You didn’t notice Wooyoung creeping over to the two of you until you turned to get your cup only to find he’d beaten you to filling it up.

“Woo, what the fuck is that?” You ask raising an eyebrow as you watch him pour a toxic green drink into your cup.

“It’s my secret recipe.” He giggles handing you the cup.

“Try it.” You’re a little weary to take a sip, you have no idea what he’d put in it and the colour is what was scaring you the most, that and the way Wooyoung was giggling away to himself like a child pulling a prank. You glance over to Mingi silently asking him if the drink is okay and Mingi only nods at you lifting his cup in a cheers before he takes another sip. 

Taking a deep breath and bracing yourself you take a small sip, enough to taste it but not enough to make you choke if it was bad. The overwhelming taste and burn of the alcohol almost knocked you off your feet, if you had to guess from taste alone Wooyoung probably used 95% alcohol and 5% mixer, just the smell of it could make you black out drunk. 

“Good right?” He said taking a large sip of his own toxic green drink which made you wonder how the hell he wasn’t choking on it.

“It’s a bit strong isn’t it?”

“That’s the fun of it, I call it the Kinky Fox Special.” He says with a proud look on his face. The name of the drink alone has you in fits of laughter, trust him to name a drink after himself.

“What’s so funny?” Yeosang asks making his way over to you, his eyes fliting between you laughing and Wooyoung’s smug face.

“Ahh, he’s finally showed you the Kinky Fox Special huh?” He asked judging from your cup on the table. You calm yourself down from laughing, holding your ribs as they start to hurt.

“Nice to see you’re feeling a bit better.” Yeosang whispered to you, leaning in slightly so the other two couldn’t hear. You smile and nod at him before taking another sip of your drink and your small smile quickly turns into a grimace from the taste of the drink making Yeosang laugh at you.

“I’m a bit better but this drink isn’t helping me though.” You laugh setting the drink down again.

“Yeah, it’s not for the weak hearted.”

“Who left Wooyoung around the alcohol long enough for him to even think this thing up?”

“We don’t know, one minute we were all together then the next he’s fixed up a pitcher of radioactive waste. That’s the origin story of the Kinky Fox Special.”

“What’s in it?” 

“No one knows and honestly we’re all too scared to ask.” Yeosang says glancing over to Wooyoung who was now carrying his pitcher around filling other people’s drinks. You were about to ask Yeosang something else but your thought’s were interrupted when you felt two hands fall on your shoulders.

“Y/N!!!!!” San shouts wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you in so your back was flush to his chest. You could smell the alcohol on him too but you were happy to see he wasn’t as drunk as Mingi.

“Hi Sani.” You reply patting his hands lightly.

“How long have you been here, we didn’t see you come in.” Jongho asks popping up from the side.

“I’ve only been here 15 minutes, I was going to come over and say hi but I got kidnapped and made to drink this.” You laugh light heartedly holding up your cup.

“Ooooh, the Kinky Fox Special, good choice.” Jongho cheers tapping his cup to yours in a cheers and taking a gulp. 

“Good choice, really?” You ask watching Jongho drink his in bewilderment.

“Well, more like a brave choice.” San laughs. 

“Come join us for a dance.” San suggests, excitement clear in his eyes.

“San, I’m not drunk enough to do that yet.” You laugh knowing full well you need to feel at least a little tipsy before you try dancing. San glances over to Jongho and it seems Jongho was already on the same page as he shoots San a knowing smirk. Next thing you know you’ve got your arms trapped by both boys as they drag you effortlessly over to where everyone was dancing. You look over your shoulder to Yeosang giving him a look that screamed ‘send help’ but he just chuckled lightly to himself and raised his cup to you as he watched you get dragged into the crowd of people.

It took a while for you to get into the rhythm of the music, everyone around you was flowing so easily to the beat and having a good time but you took your time getting settled. You were never confident in your dancing especially since half of your friend group was very much into dancing and were so good at it, you never liked to embarrass yourself like that unless you had a good number of drinks down you first. 

You soon found your rhythm after a few more mouthfuls of your drink and having San help guide you to get you started and before you knew it, the alcohol buzzing in your system, you were off, one minute dancing with San, the next moving onto Jongho and the next moving on to whoever was closest. Your cup never seemed to become empty and you could only assume Wooyoung was running around topping up people’s cups with his science experiment of a drink and now, with a pleasantly fuzzy head, you didn’t mind the taste so much anymore, you dare say it was starting to grow on you.

The longer you danced and the more you drank the more the anxieties of the eviction were melting away, you were starting to feel like a college student again and you were having the time of your life and for now you didn’t need to think about any of your stresses and just have a good time surrounded by your favourite people.

It must have been close to 2 hours you had been dancing before you realise that the biggest majority of guests had left and your own group had wandered off to the couches to rest. Bringing your dancing to a stop you make your way over to them on unsteady feet and sit...well more like fall, into the empty spot on the floor next to Yunho and in front of Yeosang who was sat on the couch. The boys were talking amongst themselves, the conversation barely perceptible from how all of them were talking with slurred speech now.

While trying to listen to the conversation the boys were having, you watched as the last of the guests filtered out leaving you with just your 8 best friends. Yunho notices the lack of guests too so he decides to turn down the music with his phone, making it more like background noise while you all talk.

Everyone is deep in their own conversations, a combination of slurred speech and giggles fill the room but you sit in your spot silent. The distraction of the party was fading away from you and the alcohol amplified your emotions, you suddenly felt panicked as you remember the red slip you had through your door earlier that day and looking around at your friends who were laughing with each other without a care in the world made it even worse. They had nothing to worry about, they were all doing well in their studies for their own degrees, they had jobs that helped pay the bills and they had roofs over their heads, something which you were soon going to be without.

You don’t know when you started crying but when all the boys turned their attention towards you, you felt the room shrink. Some of them were laughing, thinking you were just an emotional drunk but as soon as they saw Yeosang’s worried face looking at you they knew something was up.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” Yeosang asked quietly running his hands over your shoulders to soothe you. You shook you’re head in response, covering your face with your hands as you began to sob harder.

“Y/n.” Hongjoong starts, getting up and making his way over to you. 

“Please tell us what’s wrong.” He sounded a lot more sober than he was 5 minutes ago, the shock of you suddenly crying must have made them all sober up a little.

“Is it your assignments that’s worrying you?” Yeosang asked again.

“She wasn’t going to come tonight since she has assignments to do but I asked her to come for a few hours to get away from it all for a bit, I didn’t like to hear she was stressed.” Yeosang explained to the others and they all nod, glancing at you with sympathetic looks.

“I’m getting evicted.” You blurt out between sobs. Everyone froze and you could feel Yeosang’s hands stiffen on your shoulders.

“What?” Yeosang asks, leaning down to get a better look of your face.

“I don’t have assignments due...Well, I do but I’m not worried about those, I can get an extension, but...” You took a deep breath trying to steady your speech.

“When I got home today I had a red slip through the door, I haven’t been able to pay rent for 2 months because of my stupid job and now I’ve got 2 weeks to find somewhere else to live, but I can’t afford anywhere else.” You bring your knees up to your chest and burry your face away so they couldn’t see you start to sob again. 

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me, I could have stayed and helped you look instead of dragging you out.” Yeosang’s tone was worried and guilty, assignments were one thing but getting evicted was serious.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me.” You sob.

The boys all piled onto you in a group hug shushing you and patting where ever they were able to reach. Jongho slides his hand under your chin to make you look up at everyone and the sight of your red puffy eyes made everyone’s heart break.

“Well help you think of what you can do.” Jongho tells you calmly and looks around to the others for some help.

“You could find a sugar daddy.” Mingi suggests, earning his weird looks from everyone. In his defence he wants to help you and make you laugh at the same time, he thought if you were able to cheer up even a little bit it’ll help you think straight.

“What, if she gets a sugar daddy then 1) she’ll be able to live somewhere even nicer 2) rent will be paid for her and 3) she’ll get a load of cool stuff bought for her...I think it’s a win.” Despite the severe anxiety weighing on your chest you managed a small giggle at his crazy idea making him smile softly at you knowing he did something right.

“I don’t think I’m going to find anyone to be my sugar daddy Mingi but thank you.”

“You can always sell photos of your feet on only Fans, you don’t need to show your face so no one will know it’s you and I’ve heard some people will pay a lot of money just for 1 photo.” Yunho suggests.

“That’s an idea and Yunho here will be your number 1 fan.” Wooyoung pipes up.

“What, as much as I’d like to help her I can’t stand feet.” 

“Yunho, I’ve seen your laptop so don’t even try lying to me.” Wooyoung quips before a pillow is slapped into his face to silence him. You can’t help but laugh at the scene in front of you, Wooyoung’s witchy laugh being muffled by the pillow and Yunho’s ears and cheeks quickly turning a deep shade of pink from embarrassment.

“You can always sell a kidney on the black market.” Hongjoong suggests, making the room go silent as everyone looks at him with wide confused eyes.

“You can get a lot of money for just 1 kidney, I recommend we take Wooyoung’s.” 

“Hey!” 

“Oh shush, you can live with one.” Hongjoong bites back rolling his eyes. 

Seonghwa settles himself in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he softly speaks to you.

“Do you know anyone looking for a roommate, that might be an easier option for you.” You shook your head in reply, your situation was looking more an more hopeless.

“Wait.” Yeosang yells, jumping up from his spot on the couch.

“My roommate moved out a month ago, I have a spare room no one’s using, you can have it.” The rest of the group look between you and Yeosang, it was a good plan, he knew and trusted you and you felt the same so why not go with it at least until you find yourself your own place.

“Yeo I don’t want to intrude on you and plus I can’t even make my own rent now, I don’t want to be a freeloader.” You explain.

“No, no, think about it we split the rent, I’ll even take a bigger chunk of it if we need to, I’m paying the full amount as it is right now so it’ll work out cheaper for me anyways and for you it’ll be easy, half of my rent is cheaper than what you’re paying at your place and you’ll never have to worry about me kicking you out.” you’re still unsure about it, you didn’t want to have to owe money to one of your best friends, you’ve seen how they end and it’s not pretty.

“You don’t need to give me an answer right now, I know it’s a lot for you and you’ve been drinking, I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret, but the offer will always be there if you want it.” Getting to your feet with a faint smile on your face you wrap Yeosang up in a tight hug a string of quiet thank you’s leaving your mouth. Your tension starts to ease up thanks to the guys and you feel yourself slowly going back to normal.

“Sorry for bringing the mood down guys, I’m okay now, thank you.” You announce sitting back down and giving them all a small smile to show you meant what you said. The rest of them avoided the topic and went back to their usual chatter.

With everyone back to normal the drinks start again, thankfully no toxic green drink in sight. Hongjoong was halfway to getting his cup to his mouth before the cup disappeared from his hand and found itself in #wooyoungs and he took a sip.

“You’re not my favourite person today, you know that?” Hongjoong hisses snatching his cup back from the younger.

“I'm not your favourite person any day.” Wooyoung quips back flinching from a slap threat making the rest of you erupt into fits of giggles.

The night slowly came to a close and by the end of it you’d drank so much you were barely able to stand on your own and for a while you’d had your body slumped over Yunho who was helping to keep you upright.

“I think I’m going to call it a night guys, come on y/n, you too.” Yeosang says patting your shoulder to get your attention. You grumble at him, too comfortable to move but he insisted.

“Come on, you’ve had a lot it’s time to get you to bed.” Yeosang gets to his feet and with the help of Yunho gets you to your feet.

“I'll take her back to mine with me, I don’t like the thought of her being on her own in this state.” Yeosang says to Seonghwa who nods back to him thinking to himself he’d have done the same. 

“Do you need us to call you a taxi?”

“No I’ll be fine I’m 5 minutes away so it’s okay.” Yeosang says, slinging your arm over his shoulder while his other hand firmly grips your waist to hold you up.

“I love you guys.” You whine turning your head to look at all of them with a drunk pout on your face.

“We love you too.” The all reply back giving you soft smiles watching as Yeosang helps you out the the door.

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