#(if u are new here i like... bass... but i have not played in a looooong time) (so rhythm is like. my whole thing)

[idolsummons]

good news my sense of rhythm is still super heckin awesome

[b3ach-bunn7]

DONT SMILE

Dabi is your unfairly attractive bandmate, and the two of you stay late in the studio to finish a song (and each other)

NSFW, BandAU, head on both ends if u get my drift

(Guys this is my first time writing smut plz be nice 🙏)

(Also song used in the fic + title is don’t smile by Sabrina c plz listen)

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The sound of Dabi absentmindedly plucking his bass fills the studio. He’s lounging across the couch, legs holding up the dark blue instrument as his fingers drag over the frets lazily. He’s wearing a vest, the white fabric stretched tight over his skin. The jeans he’s wearing are slung low on his hips, and you avert your eyes as he adjusts them, hips lifting from their place on the couch to drag them down.

You’re on the other end of the room, swinging back and forth on a desk chair. The room is hot. The studio was small, the same one your band, LOV, had started out in. Despite being more than popular enough to rent something bigger, there’s a weird obligation you all feel, too attached to where you started to ever leave. You and Dabi are supposed to be writing new songs,  working on stuff for the upcoming album, but you’re not bothered. You can’t think. As the lead singer, lyrics are usually your forte but you’ve got no energy for it. The others aren’t even here, and that only makes you want to work even less. That, and the fact that Dabi is an ample distraction.

He groans from the couch. You glance at him over your shoulder. He’s looking at you impatiently.

“Let’s go home. I’m sick of this shit.”

You sigh, leaning your head back on the chair. “No, we have to stay. We haven’t written anything in ages.”

“Uhm, speak for yourself. I have some things. Riffs.” He plays something small to demonstrate and you roll your eyes.

“And how is that any help without everyone else here? We need all instruments present to actually make a song.” 

Dabi huffs. He places the bass to the side, stretching. His arms reach above his head, shirt lifting up to reveal his happy trail and you sigh.

Of course Dabi is attractive. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. And yes, you also find his personality attractive. He was funny, that calm confidence he always spoke in, his flirty nature, it was all alluring. You’d see him dragging enough girls out the tour bus in the mornings to know you aren’t the only one who feels this way. Unfortunately though, the amount of women he’d been with, plus the fact it’s never a good idea to date a bandmate, means you keep your distance.

This doesn’t stop him from flirting with you at every available second. You’d like to say that you’re immune to it, but that unfaltering attention from Dabi isn’t something you think you could ever get used to.

“What about you? You got any lyrics down?” He asks. 

You frown. You walk over to him, nudging his legs over. You sit next to him and he leans over your shoulder to read the scribbled notes you’d been writing the past couple hours. You huff, pushing his leg further away from yours. It’s currently pressed flush against yours, and his thigh is warm. He’s always so warm.

“Can you stop manspreading?” You mumble, pushing his leg away.

“Aw, you know you love it.” He grins, leaning even closer, eyes never leaving your notes. 

You roll your eyes, but you don’t do much to fight the close proximity. His hand reaches up to stabilise the paper and his fingertips brush the back of your hand. 

“Mediocre.” 

You gape. “Mediocre? I’d like to see you write any better.” You snatch the paper from him and he shrugs.

“It's not bad. It’s just too sappy. Nobody believes that romantic shit is actually real.” He says. 

You bite your lip, thinking. Dabi’s criticism is enough to have you doubting the whole song, and you groan. “Why did you have to say that? Now I hate it.”

“Good.”

You knock his side with your elbow and he tuts. 

“You asked.”

“I didn’t.” You go to elbow him again but he grabs it before you can. You think you can feel the callouses on the tips of his fingers as his hand touches your bare skin. You shrug him off. 

“You asked to see, but I didn’t ask for any feedback.” You say.

Dabi sits up slightly. He tilts his head, strands of black hair dipping to the side. His eyes flit over you quickly.

“Well. We’re a team, no? Don’t you want my feedback?”

You lean your head against the back of the couch. “I guess.”

He reaches over to grab the paper again. “Good girl.”

You flush slightly. “Don’t call me that.”

“You love it.”

You decide it’s better for the both of you if you don’t answer that. You look at the vinyl hung up on the walls, the pictures of you guys at award shows. Anything to distract you from the man sitting next to you.

“I think you should flip it.”

You turn to him now, and he’s already looking up at you. “What?”

“You see like this line? ‘Don’t cry because it’s over baby smile because it happened?’ Swap it so it’s like, ‘Don’t smile because it happened baby, cry because it’s over’.” 

You furrow your brows. “That’s depressing as hell, though. It’s meant to be a love song.” 

“That’s love, though.” He slides the paper back into your hands. “Depressing as shit.”

You scoff. “What do you know about love?”

He grins then, so boyish and teasing. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yeah, that’s why I asked.”

He huffs a laugh. “Love is overrated. That’s what I know.”

You roll your eyes. “You sound stupid. This isn’t some Disney channel movie, love isn’t overrated.” 

“Hm. Agree to disagree.”

You quickly get up to grab a pen. You could sit further away, but you plant yourself right where you were before, and you ignore the knowing look Dabi gives you. “Okay, help me change the other lyrics then. Since this is now a hate song.”

Dabi laughs. “Not hate. Just not love either. A nice in between.”

“Hush. Okay, so this song is about. Well it’s about being okay with a breakup.”

“Is that the case for most people though? I mean, go the other way. Write a song about the pining, the feelings you can’t get over. Not being okay with a breakup.”

You always see Dabi at his most passionate when he’s talking about music. He spends most of his days lazy and indifferent, but now, his eyes shine brightly as he speaks, as animated as you see him get. You smile slightly, nodding.

“Okay. That sounds good. You have to help me though.” 

“God, if I have to.” 

The two of you sit for the next few minutes, squabbling and disagreeing half the time. You think the songs too negative and Dabi assures you it’s not.

“I mean, it’s all about the singer being in love with someone she doesn’t have. This line, ‘I want you to miss me’ or this one, about ‘thinking about me when you hold her’. It’s depressing, no?”

“But that’s what relationships are like.”

You slump back. You’re now cross legged on the couch, Dabi the same, the two of you conferring over the sheets of paper in front of you. There’s ink on your fingertips from writing and you tap the pen on your chin.

“Not necessarily. Not always.”

Dabi shrugs. “Definitely not always. But we can write about when it is. We’ve got plenty of love songs, but. We don’t have many focusing on this.”

“What’s this?”

Dabi paused for a second. It’s silent for a second too long, and you look up at him to see he’s already looking at you. There’s an expression on his face you don’t recognise. You smile slightly, confused, and it seems to jog him out of his silence.

“That longing. Wanting something, someone, so badly and not being able to have them. The pain of it.” 

He speaks softly, his voice nearly a whisper just between the two of you. You notice suddenly, the proximity between the two of you. If you just lean forward a few inches, you’d be touching. 

“You really think a relationship should be that hard? That painful?”

“No one writes good songs about the ones that come easy.”

You laugh softly. You scratch your chin. “Okay. That’s good, then. Let’s finish the rest.”

The two of you sit there, working away. You’ve never really been this alone with Dabi, not this late at night. There’s no windows in the studio, but you know from time and the fact sleep aches under your skin that it’s late. Somehow, you end up  closer. Dabi reaches over to write something and your hands brush, you stretch and your arms touch. Both of you are desperately trying to get in contact just once, just for a second. After what feel like forever you throw your pen to the floor.

“God. I’m done. I’m tired.” You suddenly say.

“Yeah, I think we’re done here.” Dabi speaks through a yawn, dropping the papers on the coffee table in front of him. 

You curl up on the couch, propping your head against Dabi’s shoulder. “You know when the next rehearsal is?” He asks.

Dabi scratches at the scruff on his chin and you think for a second. “Two days, I’m pretty sure” 

Dabi curses softly under his breath. “I don’t think I can make it.”

“Uh, why not?”

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Doing who, more like.”

You sit up. “Who?”

Dabi grins. He brings his arms up to rest on the back of the couch. “You jealous, baby?”

“I’m not jealous of your little groupies.” You scoff. 

Dabi barks out a laugh. “Groupies? The fuck are you talking about?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “Oh, come on! Last tour you brought one back like, every night.”

“They wanted autographs!”

“Fuck off!” You laugh. “Those were very vocal autographs. You do realise the tour bus walls are very thin?” There’d been nights when you’d felt like you were in the room with them. 

“Aw, if you wanted to get involved all you had to do was ask.” Dabi pouts, his voice teasing.

“Shut up, you pervert. You wish.”

“I do wish.” 

“Degenerate.”

He reaches a hand up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. You freeze slightly and when he moves his hand away you turn, knowing the bright lights won’t hide the red on your face.

“Didn’t mean to be so loud. They can’t help it, you know. Not when I’m there.”

You scoff. “Right. Is that where you learnt all about love?”

“You could say. I know they loved it.”

It was no secret that Dabi slept around. You’d all been victim to the girls he took to bed, screaming his name late into the night when you’d all be trying to sleep after a show. Yeah, you’d had sex before, but it had never been like that. Didn’t have you yelling the way they did. It did make you wonder, some nights.

But you’re not going to let him know that. Your face twists in disgust. “Gross. I don’t need to know that.”

“Really?”

“Yes really.”

Dabi sighs. He sits up slightly. “Shame. I’d show you such a good time if you’d let me.”

And that has you thinking.

Because there he goes again, flirting and saying such suggestive things. You never play along because you always argue that he’s just joking. He doesn’t mean it. And you could shut it down right now. Really. One shove of his shoulder, one excuse that you’re tired and he’s being gross would have him backing off.

But Dabi is looking at you under impossibly long lashes, impossibly blue eyes trailing over your body, before they land back on your face.  He’s looking at you like he’s not joking anymore, and the part of you that wants to scream like those girls did has you meeting his gaze with competition. 

“Really?”

If he looks shocked at your reply, he doesn’t show it. He just inches closer. “Of course. You know I’d treat you right. If you’d let me.” 

You're a breath away from each other. You’re not sure how, but you’re both sitting up again, face to face. You can smell the cigarette smoke that always seems to linger around him, the too strong cologne that never manages to hide it. This close you can see freckles on his face, so light you don’t think you ever would’ve noticed them otherwise. You want to reach out and touch them but you’re frozen. Waiting.

The both of you are silent. You let it linger, wait for him to make the next move. 

“You’re gorgeous. Do you know that? I’m always watching you on stage. When you’re singing. Can’t get enough of you.”

He reaches a hand up. A hand rests on your shoulder, right against your pulse. His fingers curl up against your face, trailing down your cheek.

“And those groupies you were talking about? Fuck, I wish it was you. Wish it was you I was making scream on my tongue, do you know that?” 

You don’t say anything. You don’t think you could if you tried. Dabi smiles.

“You know you do this thing. When we’re working. You always bite on the end of the pen.” 

His fingers trail over your lips. His thumb rubs at your chin. 

“Drives me fucking crazy.”

Your breath hitches as his hand curls around your neck with more purpose.

“I’m gonna kiss you now. That okay?”

You nod.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes, yes it’s okay-“

Your words are breathless and desperate but no more desperate than Dabi is when he pulls you forward, crashes his lips against yours. He makes a sound, almost whining as he curls a hand in your hair. And it’s like everything you always thought it would be, as fast and as hot as you’d imagined. The hand on your neck reaches down, dipping under your shirt and pulling it over your head. You’re only in your bra, and you feel shy suddenly. Because you’re not the prettiest girl he’s ever met, you know that. Your arms curl around your body and he pulls away for just one second to shake his head, breathing heavily. His hands pull your arms away, grabbing both your wrists in one.

“Don’t do that, baby. I wanna see you.” He murmurs.

He kisses down your neck. His lips suck marks into your skin, and you should tell him to stop because people will see it all tomorrow but you want him to mark you up. You want him to see them tomorrow, see them at rehearsals and remember it was him who put them there.

He licks at your pulse and he pulls back. He reaches behind and with one hand, unclips your bra. The ease in which he does it should alarm you slightly, but then he continues down, and his hands on your breasts is enough to render any thoughts in your head useless. He grabs them both and he groans.

“These tits. So soft, so beautiful.” He whispers the words into your skin like they’re not even meant for you.

He pinches your left nipple before sucking it into your mouth. You whine, hands reaching up into his hair, tugging at his shirt. Because you suddenly feel horribly underdressed compared to him, shirtless as he moves to give attention to your other nipple. He tugs his shirt up quickly, and you let your hands travel up his torso. You feel the lean muscle under his arms, trace the scars across his body. He lets go suddenly. 

“Come on, baby. Take these off.” He tugs at your jeans and you quickly slips them off. His hands slips your underwear away as well, throwing them to the side. 

Dabi moves quickly into the floor until he’s kneeling in front of you, arms resting on your legs as he spreads your thighs apart.

“Dabi? What- What are you doing?”

“You call me Touya when I make you come on my tongue, you hear me?”

You curse, breath hitching as he kisses the soft skin of your thighs, fingers rubbing up and down the side of your hip. “It’s okay. You don’t- You don’t have to.”

Dabi, or Touya now, looks confused. He tilts his head slightly, lips red and kissed out, hair mussed from where you had been grabbing it. “Have to? I’ve been dreaming about this pussy for so long, baby, you don’t even know.” 

He looks at you with so much want in his eyes. He bites softly into your thigh and you squeal, and he grins. 

“If it was up to me, I’d sit you on my face and eat you out until you can’t speak, but. We’re on a time crunch here.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit and you shudder. Two fingers reach and part your folds and Dabi makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

“So wet. Is this all for me?”

“Touya, stop teasing.” You huff, squirming in your place.

Touya drags his fingers down, face so close you can feel his breaths. “Ask me nicely.”

“Please, Touya.” You grit out, sitting up in your elbows to glare down at him.

“Please what?”

“Please-“ Your cheeks flush red because he’s not even looking at you. His eyes are focused between your legs like he’s seen heaven between them.

“Please, make me cum, you prick.” You say with a shiver.

And it’s that tiny shiver that seems to set him off because he’s suddenly kissing and sucking at your lips, tongue digging inside your pussy and tracing circles around your clit. Your hips rock forward as you moan, and he holds you down easily so he can continue.

You have been eaten out a few times before. It never felt like something to enjoy, the boyfriend or hookup always doing it to get something over with, to tick a box. But what makes your toes curl, what makes you inch that much closer to cumming, is the fact that Dabi is eating you like a man starved. He’s groaning, eyes fluttering shut as he takes slow, purposeful mouthfuls of your pussy like he’s doing it for him and not you. 

“Taste so good. You been hiding this from me?”

“Touya- fuck.” You grab his hair and tug, and he moans.

“Yeah, good girl. Do that again.” 

You comply, his name a ramble on your lips as your hips buck again. Your core aches and you voice reaches an embarrassingly high pitch as he kisses your clit again. It takes an embarrassingly short time for you to reach the edge. “Da-Touya, I’m, I’m close,” you breathe, hands clutching at the couch beneath you.

Touya detaches himself from you, eyes glancing up at you. “Yeah? You’re close?”

You nod, whine caught in your throat. Your hips jolt forward as he begins trailing slow circles over your clit with his finger. You whine at the slow contact.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes. Yes, Touya, please.” You breathe.

“You wanna cum on my tongue, baby?” He whispers and you keen, hand reaching down to tug at his hair again, trying to drag him closer.

“Fucking- Touya, I’ll do it myself if I have to.” 

He laughs at that, quickly returning his attention back between your legs. It’s embarrassingly loud as he sucks at your clit, two fingers reaching inside you to press against that spot that has you moaning his name once more. 

“Good girl, so fucking pretty cumming all over my face.” He groans.

And then you cum, and Touya easily holds your hips down as they shake, his own grinding into the floor beneath him, and he takes you through an orgasm that racks through your body. You think you might pass out from the pleasure that crashes over you so suddenly. His hands grab at your chest, your neck, and when he kisses you again you can taste yourself on his tongue.

He smiles at you again, this time more elated, a wild look in his eyes. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” It takes you a minute before you can reply. You do so but gesturing him up in his feet.

“Here. Come, get up.” You speak suddenly, still breathing heavily.  

Touya looks confused for a second. You drag him up onto the couch, and your eyes trail down, to the obvious bluge in his trousers. And he looks big judging by it, and you think you’re already ready to get off again.

“Your turn. Come on, take these off.” You tap your fingers on his jeans and take his place on the floor.

“God, you know just what to say to a man.”

“Shut up.” 

He uses one hand to unbuckle his belt and he’s just showing off now, you know, but it’s hot and he knows it is. He pulls his jeans down his legs and you let them pool at his feet. And when you pull his cock out it’s long and thick, you find the source of all his arrogance. He catches you looking and he huffs a laugh. His breath hitches as you slide your fingers up the side, tongue reaching out to lick at the tip, hard and leaking precum.

“You know, you always, fuck, you always deny it, sweetheart, but look at you.” He groans as you lick a stripe up his cock. “On your knees for me.” 

“I always imagined taking you right here, in the studio, bending you over this couch and fucking you until you’re screaming nothing but my name, squirming and begging on my dick.” Your thighs clench and he sees it, a nasty smirk on his face as you take him into your mouth.

“You want that too, angel? Want me to make you scream so loudly everyone comes in and, shit, sees you cumming on my cock? You want that?” 

You don’t say anything, can’t, because he fills your mouth so full that you couldn’t speak if you wanted to. His hand reaches into you hair, guiding your head up and down his dick, low moans and grunts leaving his mouth. He’s so vocal, you realise, an endlesss stream of barely coherent praise leaving his mouth as you use yours.

“Fuck, yeah sweetheart, fuck.” His hips buck into your mouth and you nearly choke.

“Come on, I know you can take it. Good girl, good fucking girl.” He groans, pulling your head down further.

Your eyes flutter shut and Touya reaches down with his free hand to brush the tears that fall down your cheeks. You grab into his thighs, nails digging into his skin.

“Taking me so well, baby. Always so fucking mouthy. So pretty when you use it right.” He breathed heavily, jerking into your mouth again.

He starts fucking into your mouth, and you swipe your tongue underneath his dick, the vein that runs down it and he stutters, breathy curses leaving his lips.

“Gonna cum, fuck.” 

Your name slips past his lips in tandem as he bucks into your mouth one last time. Your mouth fills and you swallow, and he pats your cheek as you look back up at him, gasping for breath you pull back. His chest heaves and his eyes are shining brightly again but for a very different reason. You trace the scratches you left on his thighs and he in turns rubs a finger on the hickeys that leave a telling trail down your body.

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i get so cringed out when i write smut but i wanted to do it so i powered through!!! plz give me any tips if u think its bad i greatly appreciate it. i also had noooo idea how to end this oneshot so i lowkey just stopped writing LMAO

anyway.... bass player dabi u live on in my heart kisses forever

[dilfhos]

THE FAN.

#!WHO GOJO SATORU & GETOU SUGURU

#!CC: threesome, reluctance if ya squint, o.sex (G&R), riding & backshots, eiffel tower, rockstar/band au, GOJO plays with your ass

wc.5.6k | KINKTOBER ‘23 | if u can, plz reblog. im trying to get more traction frankly and would love my fics to reach a wide audience fr. as always, minors plz don’t interact w/me.

NETWORKS @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @planetonet

@scariusaquarius tysm for beta-ing, your soundboard and squeals of excitement mean a whole lot sugar hehe ♡

Are you a fan of the band EYES OF DEATH? Well they’re in town for Halloween! Ten songs! One night with Hunk Gojo as lead singer and the illustrious Suguru playing lead bass. Come down to the Shadowvale Coliseum to see them in action, you may be lucky to win backstage access!

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately.

The sound of screaming coming from (mostly) women caused a ringing in your ears. But it wasn’t much of an inconvenience because you were screaming right along with them. Your eyes zeroed in on the lead, heart stammering at the fact that you were actually here, in person before your favorite band. Your favorite idol.

Gojo Satoru.

This time you didn’t have to gush over him in the new issue of Kaisen Times magazine, or smile when you see the million posters hanging up in the walls of your bedroom. He was literally feet from you as you were blessed to have stage side seats. He was definitely sexier up close. His messy white locks whipped with every nod of his head, as his slightly sweaty face was mostly framed by stray strands of silver.

You wish you could see his eyes but they were hidden by his signature frames which didn’t make you feel too bad. You watched as his hand came down hard to deliver one final riff. The crowd went wild as did you. He rocked back on his heels, a genuine wide smile gracing his features as he scanned his fans. When he turned in your direction, you could've sworn he was looking directly at you as his gaze seemed to remain on you for a few seconds longer. While you thought it was silly, a part of you hoped he was and your heart sped up at the thought.

His smile seemed to almost widen though as he then gripped the mic.

“How about another one? Why don’t you let me hear your lovely voices one more time?” He cupped a hand to his ear, nodding as the crowd, you included, began to scream again.

“That’s what I like to hear!” He turned back to his band mates, whispering to the one closest to him which you immediately recognized as Suguru. His dark and typically flowing locks were tied back into a messy bun, a few pieces slicking to the sides of his neck. He muttered something back to the other band mates and Gojo returned to the microphone, his mouth open in a wide smile,

“You ready?” He purred.

Everyone screamed yes! and as he counted off, the building was drowned once more in an electrifying riff of another one of his songs.

…

By the end of his concert, his shirt was drenched with sweat as he spent the rest of his energy jumping around on stage.

As he bid a goodbye to the crowd, you met his gaze. Or so you thought. You just knew he looked in your direction once more before whispering something to his bandmate, Suguru, who gave you a quick look over before disappearing behind the curtain.

You remained there, looking at the very spot he stood, wishing that he was still there. You clutched a rolled up paper to your chest, your grip tightening when someone bumped into you from behind.

It was silly but you had hoped you would’ve caught him before he left to sign it. Sure the image was a couple years old but it was your favorite and with his scribbled signature in the corner of it, you knew it’d finally be perfect.

But what you also knew was how wild his concerts ended. Groupies typically tried to sneak their way back only to be stopped by heightened security. You’ve heard rumors of some succeeding and bragging that Gojo and the band definitely made their nights.

With a sigh, you turned, watching the crowd slowly grow smaller as sweaty and exhausted bodies trickled out the exits. A headache was forming and even though you didn’t get your autograph, you were still content with seeing your favorite rock idol perform. But now, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. Maybe encounter him in your dreams as you’d done in the past.

You were trudging along with the crowd when you heard a low, ‘psst’.

You wouldn’t have paid much attention to it if it had only happened once. But when it was heard again, this time a bit more persistent, you whipped your head around only to be met with nameless faces of the crowd.

But then you heard, “Here.”

Off to the side was a man in a black leather jacket with a cap on his head. You wanted to ignore him and keep following the crowd to the exits but something about his demeanor seemed familiar. You hesitantly broke away from the horde and ducked off to the side, accidentally tripping into his chest.

“Careful darlin’” You gasped softly at his voice, recognizing it to sound like…

The man pulled you further onto the side wing, and away from the crowd until reaching a corridor. He pulled his hat back, allowing raven locks to fall around his face.

“M-Mister Suguru?”

“Getou,”He glanced down at your arms crossed over your chest, holding something rolled. He glanced back up at your face which was lit up almost innocently at the fact that you were standing in front of a member of your favorite band. He smirked. How cute.

“Poster?” He asked, turning on his heels sharply. He didn’t give a warning or any explanation, he just began walking down the hallway, silently expecting you to follow. You stuttered before your feet moved, trying to catch up to his brisk pace.

“U-Uh yeah...I um…I wanted Gojo’s autograph.”

“And not mine?” He turned his head, a smile playing loosely at his lips. His gaze made you avert yours as your face swarmed with heat. You were mainly focused on the fact that you were actually inches from him, following him and talking to him. He wasn’t Gojo Satoru sure, but Getou Suguru was just as great a musician. And an even sexier man.

You passed by a few other band members and technician crew and a part of you felt a bit nervous.

“A-Are you sure I should be back here?” You asked him after a moment of silence. He only shoved his hands into his pocket without acknowledging your question as he continued to make his way down the darkening hallway. Something about this felt a bit off but you didn’t give into your trepidation. Instead you continued to trudge nervously behind him. Still, you placed your hand into your coat pocket to feel for your phone.

After another moment or so, he rounded a corner until stopping in front of the door at the end of the hall. From behind him, you could see the name, GOJO SATORU & EYES OF DEATH ☆ in bold, white script, centered in the middle of a large star. Your stomach flipped as you read his name over and over again. Was this actually real?

“You want to meet him right?” He could practically hear you nodding excitedly before sighing. A soft rap from a knuckles later and you heard Gojo’s voice from the other end asking who it was.

“Getou,” Was what he responded with before turning the door knob. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter, and you did so, your eyes remaining on your boot clad feet. After hearing the door shut behind you however, the sound sealing you into your fate, you looked up.

The first thing you noticed was the man sitting across the room, cross-legged on the floor. In his arms was a guitar, not the bass he rocked to during the concert. Slender fingers strummed against the strings, the notes melancholic and unfamiliar. The tune carried throughout the space accompanying the soft humming you heard from him.

Gojo glanced up only briefly, a smirk on his features as you nervously made your way further into the large dressing room. He let out a few more notes, this time save for his humming.

“Erm…” You glanced back toward Suguru. What were you supposed to do? Or say? Your mind ran a mile a minute contemplating what your next choice of words would be. You couldn’t believe that you were here standing in the very dressing room of your rock idol, the Gojo Satoru and you didn't want to screw up your first impression with something stupid.

You heard shuffling from in front of you and turned to see that he was standing. Placing the guitar against the wall, he then stretched, the position drawing up his t-shirt in the process. You couldn’t keep your eyes from falling to the distinctive toning of his waist and abdomen as they flashed before you. After you heard a chuckle, you looked away, hoping that he didn’t catch your staring.

“You a fan?” His voice was like velvet, soft and alluring and even more sexier than it was when he was singing on stage. A wide smile followed his question, drawing your attention to the dazzling rows of pearly whites. A few seconds later is when you collected yourself, eyes roaming back up to his that were hidden behind his shades.

“Y-Yeah,” You start carefully, heart strumming wildly in your chest.

“A-A big fan actually! I’ve been a fan for years and have come to every single concert.” Okay, so maybe you didn’t need to disclose that last part. Gojo only smiled warmly.

“Oh yeah? And what’s your favorite track?” He leaned down in front of the vanity, inspecting something on his face. You took a moment to mentally dig through what you knew of his discography. He had plenty of amazing songs, all of which touched you one way or another.

“I would have to say...Blindfolds,” He let out a surprised noise as he turned to look at you. He was quite surprised by your response. He felt that track wasn’t his best after it was published and honestly, paid no further worry about it.

He expected you to favorite one of his more popular tracks, one of which he always heard his fans request that he sing.

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you felt heat prickling at your skin.

“I-I just really like the way it speaks to me. And your use of the clever metaphors within the lyrics give it a much greater meaning than what it was meant to be. And even though it was made clear that the song was about everyone in a way, I couldn't help but wonder whether or not…” He cocked his head, hidden, blue eyes glinting as he nodded for you to go on.

“W-Whether or not if it was really about you.” Silence enveloped the space and every second you remained under it, nervousness crept in bit by bit. Perhaps you said too much. Here was one of the top rock stars standing in front of you, listening as you picked apart one of his songs.

“I-I’m sorry if I over-” He interrupted you with laughter. It wasn’t cruel or mocking, but genuine. And coming from him, it was music to your heated ears. He moved toward you, his sudden movement causing you to stagger back some.

“Look kid, I appreciate your dedication but I think you’re reading too much into it,” He gave a small friendly ruffle to the top of your head, and you bit back a squeal. He touched you.

“She’s real cute,” He remarked behind you, toward the other man, who you honestly forgot was even still here.

“I knew you’d think so. But how about we move things along? The manager has been calling my phone like crazy wondering where you’ve run off to this time.”

“Right,” He turned back towards you, a toothy grin present on his features. His eyes then ventured down to what you were still cradling in your arms.

“What’s this?” He pointed. You glanced down at the rolled poster, your face warming immediately.

“I had wanted an autograph,” You stuttered, voice barely audible.

“S‘at so?” You nodded. He held his hand out and you hesitantly placed it. You watched as he unrolled it and the way his brows shut up in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” You were quick to question, craning your neck to what he was seeing. Oh God, did you spill something on it? Did you accidentally grab the wrong poster from your wall? Like the one with old childish writing on it with, My husband! If that was the case then you weren’t sure what you’d-

“Just surprised is all. This was actually my favorite photoshoot. Guru, you remember that one?” He turned the poster around so his friend could see. Suguru chuckled at the sight, a part of him thinking that it was only his favorite because he ended up seducing the photographer. Gojo turned, moving back to his vanity. From the plethora of makeup brushes, his fingers closed around a dark sharpie. You couldn’t see what he was scribbling as you craned your neck, but it sounded like more than just his name. With a smile, he recapped the marker and held the poster out as if to admire his penmanship and rolled it back up.

He then held it out to you and right when you were about to grab it, he pulled it away.

“You know, you’re real cute,” He muttered, a finger reaching under your chin. “And you’re my biggest fan, you said?”

He was so close, so much that you could smell the subtleness of mint and beer. You were immediately drawn in, your eyes fluttering down to the sight of his kissable lips, which were parted slightly. He nudged your chin up to refocus your attention. What was the question again?

“Y-Yes?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” He teased.

“Yes, I’m your biggest fan.” You whisper. Sitting down your rolled poster, he took off his shades, revealing a pair of lustfully blown blue eyes. Brighter than any lake during sunrise. You could get lost in them forever and it was no longer a surprise why he wore his shades all the time.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his heavy gaze, which was just as well because before you could register anything, his lips were on yours, soft and tentative. It took you a second before you began to move your lips in sync with his.

He groaned against your mouth, deepening the exchange with a suggestive swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip. Parting your lips, his tongue shoved through, wild as it thrashed against your own.

Gojo explored your mouth, taking in the way you practically melted against him. He began to walk you backwards until your knees met the back of the couch. He pulled away to watch you stumble onto its surface, panting and flustered from the kiss.

He straightened to shrug out his coat before leaning back down to recapture your lips in another heated embrace. His hands trailed down your body, paying attention to where to press and grope that caused you to whimper. He loved the sound. The sweet, sweet gasps of women beneath his touch could top any riff he played.

Eventually, his lips moved away to press open mouth kisses to the side of your jaw and neck, every now and then sucking marks into your skin. His hand pushed under your shirt, dragging the garment oup in the process until he broke away to pull it off you.

“You’re so fucking hot babe,” He muttered, cerulean eyes trailed over your body, over the hot and bothered state you were in. Gojo’s hands smoothed over your neck, trailing down to your bra-covered breasts, until stopping at the hem of your skirt. You nodded before he shoved them up your waist, hips lifting up slightly for him push them up further until it was bunched around your tummy to reveal your cute panties. He looked down, grinning at the sight of the cotton material pressed snugly against your crotch.

“Cute,” He murmured. Instinctively, you tried closing your legs, bashful at his heavy gaze and comment but he shifted down until he was on his knees, in between them.

“No need to be shy,” His voice was so compelling; you slowly relaxed, your eyes never leaving his as Gojo’s fingers curled into the waistband of your panties. Your legs tightened against each other but with an almost warning glance cast upward from his eyes, they relaxed and he proceeded to slide them down with more ease.

“That’s it. So fucking beautiful…” He tugged them against your ankles, before they were placed on the small coffee table. He moved his eyes down to the sight in between your legs, inspecting the glisten coating your puffy lips.

Seconds later, you arched your back at the sensation of his hot tongue pressing flat against your slit, as he dragged the surface of it up and down in slow and deliberate movements. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he delved in deeper, maneuvering the appendage past your slick folds and into your hole, flicking and dipping between your plush walls. His fingers then replace his tongue, curling and stretching against your insides. His lips moved to your clit where he suckled and nipped gently, drawing out a unintentionally loud moan from you.

His fingers sped up, creating a wet squelch with every thrust into your cunt. Gasping, your fingers dug into the material of the couch as you found yourself getting lost in the pleasure he created.

Suguru, seeming to have come from nowhere, then moved beside you, gripping your chin to lift your head up in his direction. Despite your hesitance, he managed to press his lips against yours roughly. After a moment you began to give in, allowing his feverish tongue to slip past your lips and into your mouth, the exchange heated between lips and teeth. He grew harder in his pants to the feel of your lips and at the sound of his friend slurping away at your cunt.

A hand crept down to your clit, taking the place of Gojo’s fingers as he began to press tight circles against the area. Your hips bucked off of the couch and against Gojo’s face, smothering him against your pussy. He released a prolonged groan at the sight of the exchange happening between you and the two men.

Pulling away, the male licked away a trail of saliva from your lips before dipping a bit lower to lick and suck against your neck.

“Suguru,” You whimpered.

“Getou,” He corrected against your skin, trailing his lips down to your breasts. His calloused hands roughly kneaded each mound. His teeth teased at your nipples, grinding gently on the hardening buds before tugging softly to release with a soft pop. Just as he pulled away, a ringing sounded throughout the space.

“Dammit,” He muttered, bringing out his phone. Gojo pulled away from your pussy, his mouth soaked in your juices as he looked up at the brunette.

‘Manager’ He mouthed, moving towards the door.

“What? Yes…” The door shut behind him, leaving you and the lead singer alone in the dressing room.

He stood, pulling off his shirt, your eyes immediately dropping to his skin. You watched with rapt focus as he then plopped down a foot or so away from you.

“Come over here,” He instructed, throwing his arms across the back of the couch. You moved closer to him, your pussy clenching in need.

Slender fingers wrapped against the nape of your neck pulling you closer toward him. His lips smashed against yours, as he wasted no time in shoving his tongue past your lips. A moan was muffled from your mouth as his grip tightened in your hair to pull you closer, the taste of your essence melting on your tongue.

He pulled away to give another soft tug at your roots, urging your head up at an angle. His lips lowered to bite and suckle marks into your skin, partly in hope to cover his friend’s. When he pulled away, his eyelids were heavy over his lust filled eyes as they ran over your face and down your body.

“You’re still my biggest fan?” A few beats passed before you nodded, eliciting a soft smile to form on his face. He then moved to undo his belt, shoving his dark jeans down to reveal his dark boxers. Through the material, you could see that he was very much excited.

“Show me then.” He urged, shifting into a more lax position with his legs spread wide open.

You swallowed thickly before partially positioning yourself over his lap, level with the prominent bulge. Your eyes the subtle trail of white that lined his abdomen and disappeared into his boxers.

With shaky hands, you moved to curl your fingers around the rim of them and pulled them down enough for his thick cock to spring free, hard and long as it kissed his abdomen. You could then feel his hand pressed up against the back of your head, urging you down toward his dick.

“Good. Now open your mouth.” He cooed. You did so, closing your eyes at what was to come.

“Wider,” He muttered, heatedly. It took a bit of effort as you felt the warmth of his cock moving past your lips. Your head lowered until the heaviness of his cock pressed against your tongue.

“Yeah, like that.” He sighed, hips hitching against your mouth. His dick was thick on your tongue and you could taste more and more saltiness melting on your tastebuds.

“Fuck, your teeth babe...Watch your teeth.” He groaned, nails digging into your scalp. You sputtered around his shaft, sending spittles of drool to drip from the corners of your mouth. Your jaw ached from the stretch as he continued to urge your head down and up against his cock. In the midst of it all, you heard the soft creak of the door opening and closing.

“I see you’ve gotten started already,” Suguru’s low hum broke the sound of your unadulterated slurping. You opened your eyes to see the dark pair of shoes a few feet away, unmoving.

“The—fuck—The manager?” Gojo asked, almost breathlessly.

“I got’er off our backs for at least an hour. Told her you wanted to rest.”

“Good. That bitch needs to learn patience anyway,” You released an unintentional moan at his harsh words, finding them to be almost uncharacteristic for the male. Your eyes closed again as you tried to focus on the task at hand as Gojo’s eyes narrowed, staring down at the sight below.

He then connected his gaze with his friend before a wide grin stretched across his face.

“She’s real good. Damn, it feels amazing.” Stomach fluttering, you moved your mouth down lower, taking another inch as you sucked in your cheeks to provide more of a suction. The change in your movements took the male by surprise because he released a strangled groan, in the process, shoving you down further, making you gag and choke around his girth. Sweat beaded along Gojo’s skin as you continued to suck him off, white strands of his hair sticking against the sides of his face.

From behind you, the feeling of the couch sinking with more weight didn’t go unnoticed. Seconds later you felt a warm hand brushing against your ass, running soothing circles against the flesh.

Suguru’s hands moved to creep to your waist, pulling away at the waistband of your skirt which was bunched around the area. You were now completely bare before both men and couldn’t help the pathetic sounding whimper that arose at the notion.

“What a good little fan. You know, you’re really doin’ me a service,” Satoru chuckled. In his words, you felt a sudden surge of validation course through you. The way he spoke to you caused a fluttering in your tummy.

At the end of the day it seemed like you just wanted to please him, your idol. When he said things about how good you were making him feel, well it caused something else to stir within you, flourishing before you could have the time to force it back.

Suguru noticed the way your thighs clenched together but it was different this time. His fingers sought out your warmth and was happy to find you practically dripping.

“I think she’s loving it,” You heard him purr as he continued to run his digits along your slit. You didn’t deny it but you wished that you hadn’t looked up into Gojo’s eyes.

He groaned at the look you gave him through your lashes. As much as he wanted this moment to last longer, he knew he needed to pull away before he busted in your mouth. He needed to save himself for the main event and that was having you crying and cumming all over his cock as he fucked you. You felt a tug on your hair as you were pulled away.

“Stand up.” You rose shakily to your feet, watching as Gojo shoved his boxers away completely as Suguru was next to you, discarding his own clothing wordlessly. Gojo shifted back onto the couch, a knee pressed onto one of the cushions and his other foot planted firmly on the floor.

“Here.” Without further protest, you moved in front of him on your hands and knees, your pussy aching for attention. Which you knew he was happy to give as you felt the swollen head of his cock teasing against your folds. His breath fanned your ear from behind as he continued to slick his cock between your lips.

You’re so wet, providing his still glistening cock with enough lubrication to push through with little resistance. You groaned at the stretch, nails digging crescents into your palm. He inched his way in, slow and deliberate for every vein to drag pleasurably against your walls. His grip on your hips tightened once he was fully seated, his pelvis flush against your plush ass.

He took a moment to gather himself before pulling out partly and thrusting in once more, ripping out a strangled cry from your throat. Tears brimmed your outer vision as he then thrusted back in, harsh and more rougher than before. His knee buckled a bit in the act causing him to lean against you as he found his ground once more.

“Fuck!” He gritted as his cock throbbed within your tightness. After a few more experimental strokes, he found his rhythm, as ironic as it seemed for the guy. He continued to grunt as his pelvis continued to slam against your ass, his cock plunging deep into your pussy. Your head lolled forward, your noises becoming louder as pleasure surged through your body.

You then feel fingers entangling in your roots as your head was tilted upwards to meet the dark eyes of Suguru. He was mere inches from you, his hand fisting languidly at his cock. His thumb swiped the bead of arousal that accumulated at the slit and you couldn’t keep yourself from licking your lips at the bothered state he seemed to be in.

“Do me a favor,” Gojo huffed from behind. Without further instruction, your mouth opened and Suguru moved forward, his cock breaching your lips to rest heavy on your tongue. You tried to work it along the length of his shaft as you bobbed your head along but with the rate of Gojo’s thrusts against you, it was a bit difficult.

Suguru noticed this and adjusted his body so that he also had a knee braced against the cushion. His hands moved to the sides of your head, stilling you as his hips surged forward in shallow movements.

“That’s it darlin,” He said softly, his eyes rolling slightly. “Be a good little fan and take it nice and deep.”

After trying to keep up some more, you eventually stilled completely— slack jawed, tongue lolled out, allowing the male to use your mouth as he pleased. Drool seeped down in thick strands at the corners as he continued to thrust into your wet hole, inching himself deeper and deeper.

You suddenly gag at the feel of a hand striking against your ass. Gojo watched as you arched your back at the sting it brought, a dark grin gracing his features as you tightened around him.

“Fuck...You like that?” Another blow was delivered as another wanton moan escaped you. His hands gripped both your ass cheeks, spreading them apart for a much clearer view of his slickened cock disappearing into your needy cunt. He eyed your tight, winking hole above that and ran his thumb along the rim, taking in the way your body practically rippled in excitement from the unfamiliar stimulation.

“I think you may be my favorite, love,” He mumbled more to himself. But you caught it and felt a new sense of pride in his words. You strained your ears for the way he sucked in his breath at your clenching walls until he leant down, hard chest pressed flush against your back.

“You like that? Being called my favorite?” You tried to nod your head the best you could with your mouth full.

“How about I bring you back after all my shows. You’ll be our little stress reliever, my little plaything I can use as I want. Fuck, I can tell you’re...Mmm, keen to the idea,” His hands pressed against your ass, spreading them apart once more as he thrusted in deeper inside of you.

You choked, pulling away from Suguru’s cock, mewling and completely overwhelmed with nothing but lust.

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately. At his purring words, you shuddered and tightened, lowering your head to release a choked cry. Your orgasm came sudden and intense, completely overtaking your senses as your legs felt like pudding.

Gojo chuckled breathlessly, taking note of how sensitive you were to his words. He paused briefly to let you ride out your release until he pulled out. Giving a nod to his friend, he gave your ass a final smack, watching your skin ripple upon contact.

Without giving much time to catch your breath, you felt fingers in your hair, pulling your head up until your eyes met those dark pair.

“Get up.” Suguru mumbled. You shakily rose to your feet, your legs buckling seconds after. Thankfully, Gojo caught you with a tight grip on your arm, and an amused smile stretching across his face.

Suguru settled back against the couch, his hand running along his slick cock. He gestured at you with a spin of his finger and you turned around before feeling his hands on your hips to pull you flush against his body.

He positioned your body above his lap, his hands supporting you with the grip on your hips as your feet were planted on either side of his thighs. You leaned back against his chest, shuddering at the feel of his cock teasing your pussy. He pressed his lips against your shoulders feverishly as you were then lowered.

You mewled as he breached your entrance, stretching you with his girth. Suguru groaned as he took a moment basking in the feel of your fluttering walls throbbing around him. You began to sink down onto him, with little guidance of his hands, your moans growing in pitch.

“How is she?”

“So...tight and hot,” Suguru groaned, nails digging into the meat of your thighs as his heated gaze met Gojo’s. He directed your attention to the space in front of you with his hand stroking his dick.

Knowing what he wanted without further instructions, you wiggled forward to take his cock into your hot mouth, immediately hollowing your cheeks tight. His fingers grasped at your sweaty roots, tightening when you bobbed your head lower until your nose was nearly touching his pelvic bone.

Behind you, Suguru was beginning to lose his composure, his hips snapping up hastily against your ass, driving his cock deeper into your pussy. You moaned aloud, the noise being muffled by the press of Gojo’s cock down your throat. You were drowning in your pleasure as you were being pushed closer and closer to unraveling.

“Such a good little fan…” You squeal at his words the same time Suguru delivers a deep thrust into your cunt. Your eyes clenched shut as that coil within you snapped, sending your body aflame with heat and pleasure. He growled at your fluttering cunt, his hips stuttering as he approached his own high. You were nudged off of him before you felt the heat of his cum splattering against your ass.

“A-Ah…Fuck!” At the sight of this, Gojo was at his own limit, his hands shaky as he held your head down against him, the entirety of his cock in your hot mouth. He gave a few shallow thrusts until he stilled and you felt the spurt of warmth hitting the back of your throat. He held you there a couple seconds later as he rode out his high, making you swallow his cum.

When he shakily pulled away, you coughed as whatever you didn’t go down, dripped onto your chin and chest. You were a mess, but honestly, Gojo couldn’t find anything more beautiful.

He brushed his thumb over your sweaty cheek before he straightened. You shifted until you were next to Suguru, who pulled you against his side. Gojo returned with your rolled poster in hand and two beers in the other.

“How ‘bout you stay for a bit longer hm? You can tell the manager we’ll be a while for the moment.” You took your poster and unrolled it, eyes zeroing on the bottom corner which, in his neat script read, To My Biggest Fan, GOJO ☆

Beneath it was a phone number and you felt your face warmed. Looking up, you saw that he was holding out the beer to you and you took it.

Suguru beside you had a hand running teasing against your slick thighs as Gojo couldn’t keep his eyes off you as more and more of your beer disappeared.

You were blissfully aware of your senses easing slightly as you started to come to the conclusion that this was the best concert you’d gone to.

@dilfhos. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE OR REUPLOAD MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

[distressxox]

Headcanons: The Ghouls first meeting / Developing a crush on you

The Ghoulettes + Mountain version here

Dewdrop

• Standoff-ish, is feisty with you at first

• Copia has to remind him to be nice to you since you're still new to the ministry.

• Has a lot of trust issues, but you are patient with him.

• You always greet him with a smile and he just sneers at you. But that doesn't stop you from making an effort for friendship

• One day you do something extra thoughtful and you mend the neck of his favorite guitar when he broke it in a fit of rage. He. Was. Speechless.

• "You did this? But, I've been such an ass to you..." "It's no problem, I know how much it meant"

• His feelings for you did a complete 180. He didn't make any rude face expressions when you smiled at him, he could only look away an blush. Other times he'd just wave.

• His tail wags when he sees you despite his face holding no expression. He has to tuck it in his trousers it gets so bad.

• You complement his long hair and he let's you touch it. His face has never been so red when you leaned closer to run your fingers through it.

• "Fuck, I'm such a pathetic loser. (Reader) would never think of me that way"

• He gnaws at his claws while daydreaming about you

Aether

• Warm and welcoming when you first meet

• Instantly becomes friends with you, he's definitely one of the more extroverted ghouls from the rest of the group.

• Finally, he has a work buddy. It's a little exhausting being Copias right-hand ghoul.

• Enjoys your company so much that he asks you to help out with more things around the ministry

• At first he thought he'd only see you as a good friend. But one day he hears you humming one of his favorite songs while in the library. He stays extra silent so you don't know he's there. Fell for you so hard you could compare it to falling down the steps.

• His pointed ears perk up everytime he hears you, smells you, hell, even by looking at you.

• Copia ships you two

• You gave him a little peck on the cheek when he bought you your favorite food while working. He left your office with the widest grin the world had ever seen.

• Never washed his cheek again until Cumulus had to basically hose his face down.

• Puffs his chest out to look more macho, always loves it when you complement his strength.

Rain

• Introverted. A ghoul of few words. Doesn't say anything when you first meet, only nods his head.

• As soon as you talk to him, he averts his eyes and keeps conversations short.

• You understand that he doesn't like talking, so you try communicating without words before he's comfortable enough talking to you.

• Seeing him while in a meeting, your eyes met. He was about to look away but you slip him a note from under the table.

• 'hiii, how r u?'

• His heart skips a beat, but he gives you a thumbs up.

• First it was notes, then it was hand gestures and face expressions. Finally, you two started having conversations

• He becomes more confident after you two became friends. Spoke up and had more faith in himself.

• He started crushing when you cared enough to slip him that note.

• Writes songs about you but hides them in his acoustic guitar. (Yes he plays bass, but likes to play acoustic guitars from time to time)

• He LOVES your eyes, he feels enraptured in your gaze.

Swiss

• Flirty, very flirty

• You can only laugh at his corny pick up lines. That satisfies him enough to know that you have a good sense of humor

• Is naturally very talkative, so it's easy to have conversations with him.

• Continues with using pickup lines on you, honestly he's never had anyone to use them on besides some of his fellow ghouls.

• Until the day comes when you flirt back with him. Satan, that awoke something in him.

• Also, he's very touchy, so he constantly wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your shoulder.

• You think nothing of it since you've seen him do the same with Dewdrop and Phantom. But he's definitely doing it just so the other Ghouls know you're his.

• Loves to show his teeth off for you, you've nicknamed him "Biggy Smiles"

• Quietly purrs when he hears you talk

• The ghouls know how badly he wants you, he talks about you nonstop.

• This man is so down bad. Catch him making up scenarios about you and him. Sounds familiar doesn't it?

• Likes to watch you work from afar, he doesn't want to make his love for you too obvious just yet

Phantom

• Ah yes, the new guy.

• You were there when he was summoned from the depths of hell.

• The first person he laid eyes on was not Papa, but you. You intrigued him in a way no other human has.

• You were assigned to teach him all of his tasks, introducing him to the other ghouls, and to fit him for his Ritual/concert clothing.

• He is very playful with you, he treats you like a fellow ghoul.

• Follows you around like a lost puppy, still doesn't feel like he fits in. You tell him that he's being silly and that the other Ghouls like him despite what he thinks.

• Well, he also just wants to be with you. He's very protective when he's around you, especially with the more flirty ghouls sneaking glances at you now and again.

• He likes his ghoul friends, but will fight for you if they even think of making an advance towards you.

• He's also a flirt, will tease you when you're working. It's worse when it's at a ritual and he sees you in the front of the crowd. He puts his guitar his shoulder, kneels down, and stares at you while smirking.

[enteringdullsville]

But what is if Island was made today?

The A. Plot Trio redesigned. Personalities largely the same, although (Le)Sha(u)na trades some of her trademark slang to make room for an even more snarky attitude.

Emphasis on “some”. Her calling Harry a tadpole will never not be funny.

Heather’s a little less impulsive here. Where the canon one would read Gwen’s dialogue to the world, this one would hide it and use it as blackmail. Harold’s about the same, but even more of a theatre kid.

I like to think that the writing on his shirt will change every episode.

Justin starts off as his Action self: not a complete jerk, but still very vain and petty. Katie and Sadie, however, get a complete overhaul, going the “odd friendship” route by playing up Katie’s energetic tendencies and Sadie’s relative intelligence.

Now I kinda regret ditching the hat. Eh. Anyway, they’re about the same.

Owen, Tyler, and DJ are mostly unchanged. Cody plays up his geeky traits and whatever flirting skills he had in canon are completely gone here, since Gwen doesn’t even realize he likes her throughout the season.

Also step aside, Beth. Cody’s the new shortest guy in the camp.

Speaking of which, Beth’s artistic talents are a more active part of her characterization, hence the stickers and paint splatters. Ezekiel’s more of a basket case. Turns out his canon counterpart hates going outside. Of course I started to run with it and I made him a typical “quiet kid”. He’s slightly more socially aware, but he’s probably still going home first (not that he’s complaining).

Lindsay’s the same, but lookit her cool jacket!

Courtney’s bossiness is gone almost entirely; she’s a pure teacher’s (read: host’s) pet. The only one she’s trying to push around is a canon compliant Duncan.

Noah’s part of Heather’s alliance as her spy, just as the rumors say. Eva’s more social, generally more boisterous, but no less temperamental. I may have ripped off TD Reunion’s look for her.

Izzy is a universal constant. She changes for nobody.

I could’ve added Sierra and Alejandro. But I didn’t, because where’s the fun in that?

BTW, these are very rough designs. TD’s art style, despite being the inspiration for my own, is deceptively hard to emulate.

Jeremy (Killer Bass) is a mischievous prankster who the rest of his team quickly deems an annoyance but keeps around for his unorthodox thinking. He almost immediately forms a kinship with Harold and Tyler as the team’s outcasts, meaning Courtney and Bridgette have to deal with two warring trios as whoever hasn’t been eliminated by this point watches in amusement.

Addison (Not Killer Bass) is a fast talking hustler who’s smuggled a ton of sweets into camp and barters them off to the other Gophers, mostly Owen, Izzy, and Cody, in exchange for assistance. She’s a member of Heather’s alliance, bringing their numbers up to five, but she’s clearly a wildcard who’ll flip on her if it’s convenient. Heather can’t trust so easily, but Addison’s ironically one of the few who doesn’t hate her.

I have a whole elimination order planned out, but I don’t have the time to write a full fanfic, so I’ll just keep it shelved for now. Maybe I’ll just make a broad outline.

[puppyluvfics]

Bad To Be Good | Lee Jooyeon

Lee Jooyeon | non idol au (kinda? it's neither here nor there) WC: 3.3k Genre: smut Summary: You gotta be bad to be good, if you know what I'm talkin' about. Mouthing off to Jooyeon never put you in positions quite like these... Warnings: Filth. I’m writing the warning list as I’m writing it but still let me know if I missed anything!! Female anatomy mentions, public teasing, choking, split play, degrading, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE U TAP IT!!), pee mention but it’s not piss play (please pee after sex!!) It's like half proofread idk A/N: UM wow! I kinda… went nuts… this is just.... :) how yall doin? I... have very little to say other than good luck, i love you all, and this song was not originally based on the Poison song but it's what it became... enjoy <3

You didn’t think much of it when Jooyeon invited you to go with him to the music store. You enjoyed browsing with him, even if you didn’t know how to play much of anything, and it was always fun when he let you pick out the design on a new pack of picks. 

It wasn’t odd, either, for him to spend ample time messing around with instruments, his fingers gliding up and down the frets of guitars and basses, pressing down on keys of pianos. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself. But that’s something you loved about him, especially when it was you that he couldn’t keep his hands off of.

Today was no different; the two of you walked around a bit, his fingers lingering on instruments, display cases, amplifiers - anything he could touch, he was touching. 

“Do you ever get tired of that?” You asked, playfully. “Touching everything?” You added.

He scoffed softly with a small smirk. “I don’t see you complaining when you’re the one I’m touching.” He said, too casually. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He wasn’t wrong, but damn, he didn’t need to say it out loud like that.

“And yet, here I am, untouched.” You challenged him, hoping to elicit the same embarrassed reaction out of him.  He stopped in his tracks, eyeing you up and down, a mix of lust and courage burning behind them. 

“Don’t play with fire if you don’t want to get burned, doll.” He said, his voice low and rough. You let out a challenging chuckle, leaning against the corner where the walls met. “You won’t.” You dared him. You weren’t really sure what you were asking for, but you were more than happy to find out how he interpreted it. He cocked an eyebrow at you, sucking the air into his cheeks. He looked around cautiously, making sure that it was only the two of you before he backed you into the corner you were in, trapping you with his figure. 

“Don’t test me.” He said, his voice low and gravelly. You didn’t know when to quit. 

“I. Dare. You.” You bit back, smirking at him. He let out a soft grunt, almost a growl before his hand found its way around your throat. God, his hands were big. He pressed the sides of your neck softly. 

“What was that?” He smirked at you, watching your mouth fall open and needy whines fall into your breaths. “You dare me?” he chuckled dryly, pressing tighter. A few moments later, he let go, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. You caught your breath softly, looking at him with wide eyes… full of desire, admiration and something else that you didn’t really understand, but you knew it made you shiver.

“Maybe I should dare you more often.” You said, still not knowing when to quit.

He continued to browse, his fingers still running over things - the same fingers that had just wrapped around your throat. They looked so tantalizing from where you stood. 

“You know, (Y/N), I much prefer when you’re a good girl and you use your words and just ask me…” He teased, not looking at you. Good girl… was he insane? He must be, saying that out loud, so casually like that. You try to stutter out a reply and he chuckles dryly. 

“What, cat got your tongue? You were so daring just a moment ago. What happened?” He cooed at you. God, you needed him. But you’d never let him know that… you couldn’t let him win whatever game you had decided you were playing. 

“Keep that energy when we get home and you don’t run the risk of getting caught.” You finally said, challenging him again. You knew it wasn’t the risk of getting caught that turned him on, per se, but it helped. He wasn’t shy about being dominant with you in bed, either, but moments this intense were a bit few and far between.

~~~

Maybe you should have learned to watch your mouth. Because there you were, naked and on your knees on the bedroom floor in front of him, hands neatly clasped behind your back as he circled you. You didn’t dare turn your head to follow him, but you kept your eyes on him from the second he was in your peripherals to the second he left, your gaze fixing on the wall when he was behind you. 

He stopped in front of you, grabbing a fist full of your hair, yanking your head back with minor force, making you look up at him. 

“You think I didn’t know what you were doing? That little stunt you pulled earlier?” He asked, his voice low and gritty.

“What stunt?” You asked, innocently. He rolled his eyes, tugging your hair again. 

“I know you’re dumb when all you can think about is my cock, but you’re not stupid. Teasing me in public like that… if you wanted me to choke you, all you had to do was ask.” He said, before letting go of your hair. God, he was insane… and God, you needed him. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but no words came. He stopped in front of you, tilting your head up, tucking his fingers under your chin.

“Open your mouth.” He said, simply. Of course, you obliged, parting your lips just a bit. What a brat you were, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. His fingers gripped your chin, digging into your skin softly - enough for you to feel but nowhere near hard enough to leave a mark. After all, marks were best left in places only the two of you could see. The force of his fingers caused you to gasp out quietly, your mouth finally opening to where he wanted it - wide enough for him to spit in your mouth. It wasn’t hard, quite the opposite actually. His spit dripped from where he stood above you, falling into your open mouth, mixing with your own.

“Good girl… swallow.” He said, releasing your mouth. He watched you swallow his spit, your eyes looking up at him, wide with desperation. The very act of that was enough for him to snap. He needed you just as much as you needed him, if not more. You were his. He was yours.

His fingers skillfully undid his belt, and in a split second decision, he made his way behind you,  restraining your wrists with the belt, pulling on it tightly to remind you that you were in his control before securing it with enough room for you to slip out of if you needed to. But, of course, you were a good girl, so you wouldn’t dream of doing that. 

He made his way in front of you again, smirking as he noticed your eyes follow every movements of his fingers as he undid the button on his jeans. It felt like the blink of an eye. One moment he was standing in front of you, towering over you, fully clothed. And now, he stood before you, hard and needy. A small whine left your mouth as you shifted on your knees. 

“Needy thing, aren’t you?” He said, tangling his fingers in your hair, his cock brushing your lips. You nodded, your eyes darting between his face and his cock. 

“Go on then, show me what else that mouth can do when it’s not trying me.” He said, tracing your lips with the tip of his cock. He didn’t need to tell you twice. Your lips parted, and you slowly took him into your mouth, moving inch by inch, breathing through your nose, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around him as best you could. God, it felt like every time the two of you got together, he got bigger.

He inhaled air through his teeth feeling your mouth around him. “There you go, that’s a good girl.” He mumbled, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back, succumbing to the ecstasy that came from your mouth. He gave you a few more moments to adjust to having him in your mouth before he took over - he couldn’t take your teasing anymore. Both of his hands grabbed your hair, guiding your mouth up and down his cock at a steady pace, your spit beginning to bubble in the corners of your mouth. 

“Relax your throat, doll. Let me fuck that pretty face.” He muttered, speeding up just a fraction, coaxing filthy, guttural sounds from you. Of course, you let him. Your eyes fell shut, your let your throat relax as best you could and you paced your breathing out of your nose, humming around his cock with each thrust, leaving tantalizing vibrations on his skin. He felt himself getting close, and despite the mental image of you spilling his cum out of your mouth driving him insane, he wasn’t done with you. Not for a long shot. 

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding you off his cock, before grabbing your arm, helping you up and onto all fours on the bed, pulling the belt off your wrists so you could stabilize yourself. “Such a good fucking girl for me.” He said, his voice hoarse with need.

He watched you settle onto your hands and knees in front of him, arching your back so perfectly. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of you. He knew that he could just take you now, fuck you and fill you with his cum, but where was the fun in that?

Instead, his tongue found its way between your legs, finally connecting with where you needed him most. You let out a small yelp-whine that fell into a moan as his tongue lapped up the wetness that had gathered while he had fucked your face.

“Look at you… such a mess already. Does my cock really make you this needy?” He mumbled into your skin before attaching his lips to your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue. You tried to answer, the start of a ‘Yes” coming from your mouth, before getting cut off in the middle by a moan. His hands grasped at your ass as he continued to lick and suck at you, kneading your flesh between his fingers before occasionally coming down in hard spanks. It was overwhelming in the best way possible. 

“J-jooyeon… fuck, I… please…” You whined out. 

“Please what?” He mumbled against your clit, spanking you once again.

“Please, I’m gonna… fuck, please let me come.” You all but gasped out. He debated it for a moment, his lips never leaving you. He could easily pull away, leave you writhing and begging for more… or he could push you over the edge, knowing you sounded so perfect when you were overstimulated. He settled for the latter.

“Go on then, come for me. Be a good girl and come on my tongue.” He said, doubling down his efforts of eating you out. You didn’t need to be told twice. You let your arms fall in front of you, arching your back and gripping at the sheets. 

“Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming. Oh, God…” You whined loudly into the sheets below you. You could feel him smirk into you while he continued to lick and suck while you not only came, but felt the aftershocks of sensitivity rock you. 

“Jooyeon, fuck, I can’t…” You said breathlessly, your legs shaking in his hands as his tongue pushed you into a state of overstimulation. He wouldn’t push you… not like that, at least. He stood up, letting you breathe for just a second before spanking you a few more times, lining himself up with your entrance.

“You can… you can take it. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He asked, smiling when you answered with a shaky whine and a nod. You both knew you’d use the safe word if you had to, but you both also knew you loved to let him use you. 

“Say it.” He said, teasing you, pressing his tip into you a few centimeters before pulling out.

“I’m your good girl.” You gasped out desperate to be full of him.

“What was that?” He said, continuing to tease you. “I didn’t hear you, doll.”

“Yes you did…” You whined, desperately. He had just let you come and you were talking back? Not on his watch. His hand found your ass again, hitting you harder than he had earlier, leaving your skin red and achy. You let out a loud whiny moan at the impact, causing you to clench around nothing.

“Try again, slut.” He said. He was careful with degrading you, never going far enough to make you feel genuinely bad about yourself, but enough to make you wetter and wetter.

“I’m your good girl. I’m yours. I’m your good girl.” You said, clearer and louder. “Please… please fuck me.” You added, pushing your body back.

“You’re so cute when you’re desperate for my cock. You want me to fuck you, huh? You think you deserve to have my cock in you?” He said, tracing it up and down your slit. 

“I… I deserve what you think I deserve…” You said, falling more and more into a submissive state. He smiled coyly at your response, his hand rubbing your ass where he had come down earlier, soothing the redness that remained.

“That’s my good girl. All mine.” He said, once again teasing you. As you tried to reply “Yours,” though, he pushed himself into you in one swift motion, evoking another loud, whiny moan. He let you adjust to the feeling of being full, taking a moment to rub his his hands over your back before settling on your hips. 

“Who owns this pussy?” He asked, staring to move. 

“You do… God, you do!” You moaned, feeling yourself stretch around him. Your quick, obedient answer once again caused something inside him to snap. He moved with a new fervor, slamming into you, his hips colliding with yours, his fingers digging into your hips, almost bruising you. You let yourself get fucked into the mattress, getting just as much pleasure as he was getting, the feeling of him deep inside you driving you closer and closer to coming again. 

“I’m so fucking close…” you gasped out between thrusts. That was great, but he wasn’t anywhere near done with you… not until he came. He grabbed your arm, pulling you so you were kneeling as he fucked up into you, hitting you deeper than before. One of his hands wrapped around to your throat, pressing down, the other hand wrapped around to rub your clit, his thrusts never stopping. 

“You better not fucking come until I tell you to.” He all but growled in your ear. You nodded, trying hard not to lose yourself, to be a good girl and follow his directions. He felt your quick pulse under his fingers as he pressed and loosened his fingers around your throat, choking you and giving you just a moment’s respite to breathe, his other hand rubbing feverish circles on your clit. 

“Fuck, please.” You moaned again, trying to coax him to his own orgasm so you could fall over the edge with him. 

He was close as well, but holding back as he contemplated where to come. Regardless, he was going to mark you as his, as he did every time. But would this time be a time where he came inside you? Or would this be a time where he pulled out and came all over your back? As you clenched around him, trying to stop your own orgasm, he decided. Since you had been such a little brat earlier, he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of feeling him come inside you.

“Tell me you need it.” He muttered into your ear, fucking into you.

“Please, I need to come, please, please make me come, please let me come for you.” You begged as best you could with his fingers wrapped around your throat. 

“Go on, then. Put on a show for me. Come for me. Be a good girl and come all over my cock.” He said, rubbing his fingers on your clit faster. Your hands grabbed onto his arm, steadying yourself as another orgasm burned within you, leaving you gasping out for air, moaning, whining and repeating his name over and over again. “That’s my good girl, my perfect little fucked out slut.” He whispered as you squeezed your eyes shut. 

He pushed you forward again, onto the bed, pulling out just in time, coming all over your back and ass, groaning your name, holding himself up by grabbing your hips again. You felt his cum hit you and you whined quietly, still reeling from your own over-sensitivities. He milked the last drops from himself before collapsing next to you on the bed, laying on his back.

He let out breathless chuckles, his hand patting around the bed to find yours, intertwining your fingers together. 

“Fuck, you’re incredible… my good girl… took my cock so well.” He muttered out, hazily. 

You giggle quietly, still breathing heavily. “Well, when you fuck me that good, how could I not?”

~~~

He lost his words, rolling over onto his side just enough to take you in, gazing at you from head to toe. You laid there, resting your head between your arms, breathing heavily, each breath in causing your chest to rise enough that the light bounced off his cum on your back. If it hadn’t been completely obvious to him before, he would have cited this as the moment he fell in love with you… maybe he was falling all over again. You turned to head to look at him, gazing into his eyes. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, your voice soft and gentle - a stark difference from the whiny begs that had fallen from your lips just minutes ago.

“You.” He said, smiling himself. His smile was small, but full of love. You chuckled at his matter-of-fact answer. 

“Me, huh? Anything good?”

He nodded. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You replied. Loving each other was, frankly, as easy as breathing. 

You both stayed there, looking at each other, not speaking but your eyes and smiles saying every unspoken word. After a few more minutes, he stood up, with a small grunt. 

“Alright, let me get you cleaned off, I don’t want you feeling sticky all night.” He said, playfully patting your ass. He returned a few moments later with a warm washcloth, wiping his mess off of your back, also taking care to clean up your own wet mess. “Better?” He asked once you were clean.

You nodded. “Much, thank you.” You stood up, yourself, finally, padding to the bathroom, where he was still standing, cleaning himself off. You sat on the toilet beside him, just looking up at him while you both did your business. 

“You know… maybe I should tease you in public more, if it means I get this.” You chuckled, finishing your business. He rolled his eyes at you playfully, pulling you in for a kiss, his hand resting on the small of your back. 

“Again, babe, just ask… you’re so pretty when you use your words and ask.” He mumbled onto your lips. 

“Hmm, no, this is more fun.” You said, patting his chest before walking back to the bedroom, laying down waiting for him to join you. He did a few minutes later, wrapping himself around you, tangling your legs together and pressing his chest to your back.

“You’re a brat… but you’re my brat. And I love you for that.” He said into your neck, leaving kisses between each word.

“I love you too.” You hummed, contently, feeling so used but so safe and loved in his arms.

[shokosmokes]

﹒◌﹒hockey au﹒✧﹒

hi! so this is super self indulgent based on this post i made hehe n im super excited to write this, i hope u enjoy (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

this is probably gonna be super lengthy so this is just part one lol

copy-pasted from my notes app so sorry if there’s any errors

masterlist

———————————————————————————————————

megumi x reader x yuji love triangle

tooth rotten fluff with a bit of angst

The music is loud—too loud for your taste—but you don’t really care. You’re not here for the party, not really. You’re here because you promised some new friends you’d show up. After all, that’s what people do when they want to feel like they belong, right? Pretend to be interested in house parties with thumping bass, cheap beer, and sweaty college students pressed together like sardines.

You tug at the sleeves of your sweater nervously, trying to blend into the wall, regretting not bringing a drink. At least it would’ve given your hands something to do. You scan the crowded living room, your eyes flicking over the mass of people, mind wandering until you spot a familiar face—or rather, two.

Yuji Itadori is hard to miss. His bright pink hair stands out against the dim lighting, and he’s laughing at something, his wide grin infectious even from across the room. Next to him, Megumi Fushiguro looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, his expression as unreadable as ever. The complete opposite of Yuji’s playful demeanor.

It’s funny how they balance each other out like that. Yuji, the bright, silly one who lights up every room he walks into, and Megumi, the quiet, brooding one, always watching from the sidelines. You haven’t known them long, but even you can tell they’re close in a way that most people would envy.

And yet, here you are, watching them, unsure of where you fit into the picture.

“Hey!” Yuji’s voice suddenly cuts through the noise as he jogs over to you, his face lighting up when he sees you. “You came! I didn’t think you’d show up.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of his excitement wash over you. “I almost didn’t, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” His grin widens, and he turns, waving toward Megumi, who’s still standing by the drinks table, looking completely out of place. “Megumi, come over here! She’s finally here!”

Megumi’s eyes flick over to you, and for a moment, your gazes lock. His expression softens slightly, but he doesn’t smile. Instead, he gives a small nod and walks over, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low but steady.

“Hey,” you echo, feeling your pulse quicken for no good reason.

The three of you stand there for a moment, Yuji’s energy bouncing between you, while Megumi’s silence settles like a blanket over the noise of the party. You feel the tension immediately. Not in a bad way, just... tension. The kind that makes your heart race for reasons you can’t quite put your finger on.

“So,” Yuji begins, clearly trying to break the silence, “have you been to any of our hockey games yet? We’ve got a big one coming up next week.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden change in topic. Hockey? Right. They’re both on the team, something you keep forgetting since you’ve never actually seen them play. It’s not really your thing, but the thought of seeing them on the ice—sweaty and focused—sends a strange shiver down your spine.

“No, I haven’t been to any yet,” you admit. “But maybe I’ll come to the next one.”

Yuji’s eyes light up like you’ve just made his day. “You should! It’s gonna be great. Megumi’s an amazing defender. You’ll love it.”

You glance at Megumi, who shifts uncomfortably under Yuji’s praise. “I’m not that great,” he mutters.

“You’re amazing, dude,” Yuji counters, playfully nudging his friend. “Don’t be so modest.”

You find yourself smiling at their dynamic. It’s hard not to get swept up in Yuji’s enthusiasm. “Okay, fine. I’ll come,” you say, laughing a little at how easily you’ve been convinced.

“Awesome!” Yuji’s grin is infectious. “I’ll make sure you get a good seat.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you, something quiet and unreadable flickering in them. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it makes your heart race in a way that you’re not sure you’re ready to acknowledge.

You’re not here for hockey. You’re not here for parties. But somehow, being here with them feels like it’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.

---

Later that week, you find yourself sitting in the cold, buzzing arena, clutching a cup of hot chocolate as you watch the players take to the ice. You have to admit, there’s something captivating about watching them skate, the fluid motion of their bodies gliding across the rink. Your eyes keep wandering back to two figures—Yuji and Megumi.

Yuji is in his element, grinning even through his helmet, waving to the crowd every chance he gets. His energy is infectious, even from the stands. Megumi, on the other hand, is focused, eyes narrowed in concentration as he defends the goal like his life depends on it. The contrast between them is striking.

Your stomach twists when Yuji skates by, throwing you a playful wink. He’s just so... Yuji. Bright, carefree, and completely unaware of the effect he has on people. On you.

And Megumi... God, Megumi.

Every time you see him on the ice, you feel that strange pull in your chest again. There’s something about him—something quiet and intense—that makes your heart race in a way you can’t explain. He isn’t as obvious as Yuji, but there’s a warmth to him, hidden beneath that cool, stone-faced exterior.

---

After the game, you’re surprised when both of them ask you to hang out—separately, of course.

Yuji wants to go to the arcade. Megumi invites you to a quiet coffee shop he likes, one tucked away from the busy part of campus.

You don’t know how to say no to either of them.

---

Megumi’s fingers brush yours as he hands you a book he thinks you’ll like, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he pulls back. “This one’s good,” he says softly, almost shyly. “If you’re into that kind of thing.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you take the book from him, your hands barely touching. “Thanks,” you whisper, feeling the weight of his attention settle over you.

Megumi is so... subtle. His affection, if it’s even that, comes in quiet gestures. A brush of fingers here, a soft look there. It makes your heart race in a way that feels... different. Dangerous, almost.

But then, there’s Yuji.

---

“Gotcha!” Yuji laughs as he beats you—again—at one of the games at the arcade, his playful grin lighting up his whole face.

You can’t help but laugh with him, your heart soaring at the pure joy in his eyes. Being with Yuji feels easy, like the sun has come out and everything is just... fun.

But it isn’t just fun. Not for you.

You’re torn. Between the boy who makes you feel safe, like a warm hug on a cold day, and the boy who sets your heart on fire, unpredictable and thrilling.

You don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending that you don’t feel anything for either of them.

———————————————————————

end of pt. 1 /).(\ pt. 2 coming very soon

[ghostboneswrites2]

𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙙

Summary: As Daryl adjusts to a new life at the Commonwealth, he finds himself regularly attending a crusty hole-in-the-wall bar for the live music and cheap drinks. One night, a band he hasn’t seen before plays, and their lead singer inspires his curiosity.

Warnings: Profanity, TWD stuff, alcohol, mentions of grief/sad vibes here and there.

Pairing: Daryl x fem!reader (reader is described to be tall and likely in her late 30s)

Era: Commonwealth

Vibes: Immaculate

A/N: I haven’t watched anything past the Whisperers arc in quite a while now so forgive any inaccuracies I beg u

𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙠 (in order):

*tried to pick some of my fav songs that would have been released pre-apoc*

All Along the Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix

Losing My Religion - REM

No Rain - Blind Melon

Free Bird - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Nights in White Satin - The Moody Blues

Crushcrushcrush - Paramore

Masterlist | Taglist | Challenge

Dividers by: @roseraris @saradika-graphics @strangergraphics-archive

Lots of minors interacting lately so friendly reminder that my DNI includes minors!

In the past, Daryl wouldn’t have felt much comfort in a place like the Commonwealth. Busy streets, apartment living, social gatherings. In some ways it was similar to Alexandria, but in many ways it felt more metropolitan. He guessed he’d just been ripped out of his comfort zone so many times that it didn’t feel unusual anymore.

He’d found himself a job, a place in society that wasn’t deep in the woods in search of food. Hell, he’d even found himself a social life, believe it or not.

See, Daryl spent a fair amount of his free time — when he wasn’t with Judith and RJ — at a shithole bar that tended to attract the rougher types. He kept to himself mostly, save for a bartender he found himself rather fond of. He really just stuck around for the cheap drinks and live music. Patrons tended to mind their business, and sometimes there was food, too.

On this particular evening, Daryl was exhausted. He almost stayed home, but he was also restless. He figured a few drinks and some music could inspire some sleep, so he made his way to the bar when it opened at dusk.

“Evenin’, Killer.” Jax greeted the archer as he took his usual seat at the bar. He always remembered his seat because the stool was wobbly and the leather was worn.

“Hey.” Daryl grunted as he settled in and looked around. “Band ain’t here yet?” He wondered. Usually the musicians set up before the bar opened and started when the first patrons arrived.

“Nah, probably won’t even show.” Jax shrugged. “Some new band. Never seen ‘em here before.”

Daryl nodded as Jax handed him his usual glass of room temperature whiskey. Daryl thanked the man before he returned to wiping down the counter. Jax was a short man, sturdy and greasy. He wasn’t so pleasing on the eyes with the plethora of scars and blemishes that decorated his face, but his soul was kind. He rarely wore a shirt, only covering his torso with a torn leather vest similar to Daryl’s.

Jax had coined the nickname Killer for Daryl when an incident with some walkers occurred in the street in front of the bar. Most bystanders panicked and shrieked, but luckily Daryl was there to handle it.

“Oh, there they go.” Jax mumbled to himself as the band finally walked in and toward the stage, barely catching Daryl’s ear. Thoughtlessly, Daryl glanced toward the area the musicians usually played and observed them as they set up their instruments and amps. There was no stage in the bar, but there was a well lit corner that did quite nicely.

The band consisted of the typical drums-bass-guitar-vocalist layout, all of which were men except for the one adjusting the microphone. They only took around twenty minutes to set up. By then Daryl was on his second glass, finally feeling a familiar heat in his face as the buzz settled in.

As the music began, Daryl immediately recognized the tune, though he couldn’t place his finger on it until the woman began to sing:

“There must be some kinda way out of here, said the joker to the thief… There’s too much confusion, I can’t get no relief…”

He hadn’t heard it in so long he couldn’t tell you the name, but he knew it. He found himself tapping along, entranced by the performance. Smoke from cigarettes filled the bar as more patrons filled the seats, chuckling and chatting as they enjoyed the show. Daryl took a moment to observe them before he turned his attention back to the music.

“No reason to get excited, the thief, he kindly spoke… There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke… But you and I, we’ve been through that… And this is not our fate…”

Daryl quite enjoyed the music, and he began to wonder what they’d play next. He hoped their set list was full of songs he’d known before — songs like this — that made him feel as good as he felt just then. Eventually, the song came to an end, and the woman heading the band lit herself a cigarette and looked around at her audience.

She had a certain aura about her — cynical, yet content. It seemed as if she didn’t necessarily care to be there, but she didn’t treat it as a chore. Her eyes fell on him and somehow it made him squirm inside. He gulped down his last swig of whiskey before he looked away, summoning Ajax for a third helping.

“She was eyein’ you.” Jax commented as he poured the liquid.

“Pfft.” Daryl tutted as he wrapped his thick fingers around the cool glass and pulled it close to himself. “Prolly can’t even see with all them lights over her.”

“Nah, my friend. You locked eyes. She definitely can see you just fine.” Jax chuckled as he leaned over the bar. “Tell me, you’ve been here for months and haven’t found a single lady-companion. Why not get yourself out there?”

Daryl glared for a moment before shaking his head. He’d had enough trying to find companionship.

“Not my prerogative .” Daryl said coldly.

“Suit yourself, man.” Jax shrugged. “She’s easy on the eyes, though.”

As another song began, Daryl tuned out his friend. He had come to relax, not for relationship coaching.

This new song was a bit sadder in tune, and the melody made the singer’s hips sway a little as she clapped to the beat. Her expression was the same as before, but her eyes told a more melancholy story than the rest of her face. As she sang, Daryl couldn’t help but to study her. She was tall, but not as tall as him. Younger than he, maybe thirty-something, but no younger than that.

Her entire soul seemed to radiate with the music, effortlessly conveying emotion in her every note and movement.

“Life, it’s bigger… Bigger than you, and you are more me… The lengths that I will go to… The distance in your eyes…”

Daryl could practically feel everything she sang. Every note played on the guitar, every perfectly timed clap. It all meant something, it was all intended to send a message. As her eyes swept over the ground, avoiding any contact with the crowd, Daryl realized she was singing too someone. Someone that probably wasn’t around anymore, someone she probably would have died for. Someone who may not have felt the same. He knew the feeling all too well.

“Oh, no, I’ve said too much… I set it up… That’s me in the corner. That’s me in the spotlight, losing my religion… Trying to keep up with you, and I don’t know if I can do it.. Oh no I’ve said too much — I haven’t said enough…”

Suddenly Daryl felt her pain. Hell, he’d felt it before. He felt it with her. They felt it together.

As the music picked up, her voice cracked and swayed with everything she felt and everything she wanted to say. All the while, her eyes were glued to the ground, somewhere dust and and below.

“I thought that I heard you laughing. I thought that I heard you sing. I think I thought I saw you try… Every whisper, every waking hour, I’m choosing my confessions. Trying to keep an eye on you, like a hurt, lost, and blinded fool… fool…”

Jax, between filling drinks and polishing glasses, couldn’t help but watch Daryl as he watched the woman. Jax knew it — even if Daryl was too stubborn to accept it. Daryl was falling. An infatuation was forming, quickly and violently ripping through him as her voice consumed him.

Daryl wasn’t the only one who seemed to be swept away in the eerie sadness the girl’s pipes seemed to carry. The whole bar was silent and mournful, allowing her own grief to translate into their own.

Luckily, the next song wasn’t so sorrowful, or Daryl might have teared up with the rest of them.

This song was hopeful and somehow listless altogether. It sounded like a daydream on a sunny day, or like something a poet would write on a rainy morning.

“All I can say is that my life is pretty plain. I like watching the puddles gather rain…”

Daryl knew this one too. He recognized it from the radio. It often came on during the summers on the rock station in his hometown. He was grateful for the change in pace. He needed a laughter tune after the weight of the last one.

He ended up leaving shortly after that, deciding he could no longer be subjected to the enchanting songs of a siren. Plus, he was getting to be just drunk enough to sleep, and he had no intentions of missing that perfect window of tiredness.

A few days later, though, when he returned, he was embarrassed to find himself asking if the same band would be playing again. Jax sadly said no, but that they’d be back the next night. In order to avoid that look, Daryl had a drink before he went home and returned the next night. Just as Jax said, there they were, live and in action.

Daryl had arrived in the middle of another familiar favorite:

“If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me? For I must be travelin’ on now… There’s too many places I’ve got to see.”

Daryl tapped his foot to the music, recalling a few drunken nights with his brother at bars just like this one. The old rockers liked to play this one on the jukebox, and Daryl didn’t mind the tune.

“But if I stay here with you, girl… Things just couldn’t be the same. ‘Cause I’m as free as a bird now…”

“And this bird you cannot change.” Jax began to sing along. Daryl chuckled softly under his breath. Of course Jax would know this song, he seemed like the type.

“Bye-bye, baby, it’s been a sweet love… But this feeling I can’t change. But, please don’t take it so badly… ‘Cause lord knows I’m to blame.”

Daryl relished in the familiarity of the tune, soaking in the nostalgia. It wasn’t often these memories felt happy, but with this song, they did.

The next song was much older, though. Daryl could tell by the instrumentals. It was something that would have played in a sad montage in disturbing film.

“Nights in white satin, never reaching the end… Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send. Beauty is always missed with these eyes before… Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore. ‘Cause I love you, yes I love you.. Oh, how I love you…”

The woman seemed to collapse with every note, losing her breath as she felt each word so deeply. That was it. That was the moment Daryl realized how hopelessly screwed he was, because he was falling for her. He’d never spoken to her, but she spoke to him with every song she sang. He couldn’t explain it — truthfully, it was ludicrous — but he felt like she was singing to him. He had to talk to her.

So, he waited around all night, sipping his whiskey slowly, ignoring Jax’s knowing smirk until the band played their final song of the night.

The music to this one sounded much more modern than the ones before. Quicker in pace and more pop-punk than he would usually listen to on his own.

As lips parted to sing her words, her eyes fell on Daryl with intention, as if speaking directly to him.

“I got a lot to say to you, yeah, I got a lot to say. I notice your eyes are always glued to me, keeping them here and it makes no sense at all…”

Daryl gulped, his throat feeling rather dry. Suddenly his collar felt too tight and his whiskey tasted like water. It all made sense; the change in music, the eye contact… She was talking to him. She had to be.

As the song came to an end, his nerves were fried. Anticipation are him alive as the music played, knowing she’d expect him to confront her after this. He guessed he’d planned to introduce himself anyways, but at least that would have been unprompted. This was much too direct for his taste.

Soon enough the music was done with and the band was packing up. Once she’d finished the song, she turned her attention to helping her crew, not even sparing a single glance Daryl’s way. As if he didn’t even exist.

“Liked your songs.” Daryl spoke awkwardly, clearing his throat as the band approached the bar to have a complimentary drink.

“Thanks, they weren’t mine though.” The woman shrugged him off.

“Nah, maybe not before, but.. Ya made ‘em yours.”

That comment seemed to pique her interest. She raised her eyebrows at him and smirked as she downed a shot of tequila like water, slamming the glass on the table to remind Jax she’d need another. The bartender obliged as she studied Daryl.

“You stayed for the whole show tonight.” She pointed out. Daryl shifted on his unbalanced barstool. “You left early last time.”

“Ya watchin’ me or somethin’, girl?” He scoffed.

“Sure.” She shrugged. “Watchin’ you watch me.”

Daryl gave her a sideways glance as he turned his glass bottoms up, gulping the last of his whiskey in one swift chug.

“Just watchin’ the band.” Daryl insisted.

“I’m not the band.” She countered. “You were just watching me.”

Daryl ran his tongue over his teeth and considered her words before he sighed.

“I gotta get goin’. Nice meetin’ ya.” He announced as he stood up.

“See ya next time, then?” She winked. She smiled and shook her head to himself as he went toward the exit. Men never seemed to know how to take her in as she was. She was always too forward, too snarky, to quick with her tongue.

“Never seen ya ‘round before.” He called over his shoulder as he paused at the door.

“I’m in the apartments just around the corner.” She told him. “I work at the cafe by the library on weekdays too.”

“See ya ‘round, then.” He concluded before he disappeared into the night.

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy @raeraegoaway @ophelialaufey @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfsalltheway

[spookyghouly]

goodevening ghesties

i luckily tested negative for covid this morning meaning i was FINALLY free from quarantine isolation just in time to go to the ghost concert!! this is my 5th ritual in as many years and it may have been the best (though, you never forget your first 😉). here’s my ghost kia forum night 1 concert breakdown of best moments, in no particular order!

cumulus and aurora ghoulettes twirling each other, blowing kisses to each other, stroking each other’s cheeks. this one was for the dykes <3

popia, drawing out the ending to mary on a cross: “are you guys still saying cross?? I want you to say MARIJUANA!!!!!”

ABSOLUTION F U C K E D LIVE!!!!

Respite ALSO fucked like the BASS IN THE BEGINNING?? I FELT IT IN MY CHEST IN MY LUNGS, I THINK IT MADE MY HEART BEAT DIFFERENTLY. SOUL RESET. I almost cried when copia left the stage thinking about how this is probably my last time seeing him (I completely forgot the encore existed I was too swept up in It All ™ you know?)

Dancing Skeletons. They better release the film because I want to study it to learn their dance.

they had two stages set up, the normal one up front and a mini set up in the back with a grand piano and several chairs. more on that in a sec.

Seestor gave papa a boxing robe and gloves for “fighting” his way back from the small stage to the main stage. the crowd started barking at him to hype him up like he was actually about to enter a boxing ring lmaoo

when he got to the back stage papa said it was so nice to see the people in the back “in the stevie wonder seats” lmaoooo

then he said he wanted to bite us???? and had us all snarl at him like we were biting dogs. deranged behavior. love him.

okay no my true fav moment was the orchestral arrangement of if you have ghosts. it put me in such a throwback to the first ghost ritual I attended in london when he took time to introduce each band member just as ghoul. 5 years later and on another continent, it is an even more beautiful arrangement of the song. The band members were 2 cellists and a grand piano player—I couldn’t tell if the woman to the far right was playing a theremin or vocalizing—if anyone knows can you tell me?

the skeletons picked papa up at the stage right mini stage and had him like crowd surf on top of them all the way back to center stage it was AWESOME?? I hope they got a cool overhead shot of it for the recording.

they definitely knew we were all anxious he was dying tonight and there were many moments where papa faked us out that he was dying. after the first or second song he made a comment like “ah we are quickly approaching the end of this era” and later when he told us to “not be sad it’s almost over, you’ve had a good fucking time and then it must end” I couldn’t help but think he was talking about more than just the concert

on a related note, when the skeletons first came out in twenties they circled papa and I think it was a deliberate fake out/homage to when he ascended in mexico city last year when the nuns circled him.

met many delightful ppl giving away handmade bracelets, stickers, and trinkets, as well as someone who had scooped up a bunch of mummy dust bucks from the confetti gun and was passing them out by the exit 🥰💜 u people made my day

anyway here’s that haul:

this has been the update from new plushia at the forum, goodnight folks!

[planetamarte]

no idea why i've held off on it for this long, so with the recent news i think it's about time i post my shadow the hedgehog megaplaylist for

2024: FEARLESS YEAR OF SHADOW

meticulously crafted in chronological order to go along to the story beats of shadow's character development, this playlist features both official OSTs for shadow and other music i associate with him. also works well as a shuffled playlist if you want general shadow vibes to listen to. it currently stands at just under 100 songs and 6 hours in length, but i add something to it every once in a while! (i started it before fearless year of shadow was officially announced, in fact.)

this playlist is meant to be a love letter to the early 2000s edge associated with shadow, what with its inclusion of genres like nu metal, industrial, drum and bass, post-hardcore and the like. essentially, if a song is in here, that means i could either easily imagine it as the music to a windows movie maker AMV full of stolen shadow fanart, or as the background music to a level where you play as shadow!

(the itunes version is missing this machine from the sonic heroes OST. the spotify version is also missing the shadow the hedgehog mix of tripod baby by m-flo and lisa, but i added the original version anyway.)

hope u have as much fun with this playlist as much as i have listening and adding to it! <3

SPOTIFY ☆ ITUNES ☆ YOUTUBE

[girlboybug]

Crush

"he looks like he works with his hands, and smells like marlboro reds."

what's playing 🎧: crush by ethel cain

pairing : bfd!joel x reader (no outbreak au)

word count : 14k (oops)

*unedited*

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, age gap, heavy petting, grinding, fingering, handjobs, references to m!masturbation, unprotected sex, creampies, light dirty talk, riding, soft dom!joel, but also switch coded joel if u squint, slight angst kinda sorta

TRIGGER WARNINGS : lowkey dubcon just bc of the power imbalance that comes with the age gap but everything is consensual as always. joel knew the reader when they were 4, 16 years have passed so now they're 20! brief mentions of messy home life and brief descriptions of verbal sexual harassment

A/N : i've been dying to write bfd!joel, and when i heard crush i knew what i had to do lolol. so sorry this took ages, it wasn't supposed to be this long but here we are lol. i hope you guys enjoy <3 comments really motivate me, so if you liked it plz lmk in the comments :3

your eyes continually drift over to the time glowing in the corner of the screen on your register, wondering when joel was supposed to swing by. you pray that he hasn’t forgotten his promise to your dad of checking out your air conditioner to see what needs to be repaired.

the tiny fan that sits beside your half drinken water bottle does little to nothing, and it only adds insult to injury. 

you think back to last night at dinner, in your air conditioned home, about the ‘exciting’ news your dad had to share. he rattled on about how he ran into an old college buddy and family friend, joel miller down at the pro bass shop—and of course it was at the pro bass shop. 

after a few jogs of your slightly depleting memory, you finally, somewhat, remembered a face to the name. you vaguely joined in with your parents’ reminiscing of how he used to come over with his little girl sarah for play dates, and occasionally babysitting you when your parents went out on their date nights. 

they also were quick to tease you about your little crush on him, one you swear you can’t remember, which in your defense, you really don’t, and desperate to change the subject, you asked about his wife, which only worsened the allegations of your crush on him. 

“goin through a divorce, it’s actually why he moved back here, but i’m sure you’re happy to hear that,” your dad snickered with a little nudge, and you wanted to bury your face in the steaming mashed potatoes on your plate. 

once you managed to wrangle them out of the conversation of your alleged feelings towards the man you barely remembered, it was briefly mentioned that he’d be coming by today to check out your broken down air conditioner at the store your parents owned and operated. 

you’re the cashier there, unwillingly of course, but it helps pay for your very expensive books you need for your classes, so it’s not a total issue. however, as you blanky look around the empty sweltering convenience store, you honestly consider closing up early and ubering home to soak in a nice, cold shower. 

the bell that hangs from the door rings at the front entrance, but you’re too tired and worn down by the heat to say your usual greeting, instead deciding to just remain slumped in your small wooden stool, aimlessly trying to angle your mini fan at the most optimal point of your face. 

your peripheral view catches a navy blue hued shirt, and your head lifts upwards to get a better look in case it’s a customer. 

your eyes fall onto an older man smiling down at you, crossed arms bulging from behind his short sleeves. something bubbles in the very pit of your stomach. “mr. miller?” you ask, slightly unsure, but he nods, chuckling when his arms drop to his sides. “heya hun, it’s been awhile, how are you?” he leans in for a hug, and you suddenly don’t feel the sweat that’s been stuck to your skin for the past three hours as you rise to your feet and off the stool to meet his arms that come around your waist. you manage to stutter a response of, “i’m good, and you?” 

“doin’ alright,” he says through a grin– oh god, his grin is so pretty, you think you almost see a cartoonish sparkle glint in his teeth from the fluorescent lighting.

your stomach bubbles up the more you take him in, and oh no. the worst possible thing just came to fruition.

your parents were actually right. 

he pulls back, hands still on the backs of your arms as he takes a moment to really look at you. “you’re so grown up now honey, i remember when you were just this big,” he holds a hand just below his hip and you join in his light laughter, feeling those fluttery feelings you felt all those years ago rush to your chest and tummy like a dormant volcano erupting. 

he hasn’t aged a bit, maybe a few more wrinkles here and there, and the crows feet beside his eyes deepen more now when he smiles, along with the grays that take the place of where some strands of brown used to be. but he’s just as beautiful as your fuzzy memories, if not more. 

“y-you look exactly the same,” you chuckle nervously, trying to not give in to the magnetic pull tempting your eyes in the direction of his chest and abdomen. he grows a little bashful, glancing away for a moment before he replies, a little pinker in the cheeks than before. “i definitely don’t weigh the same, sweetheart,” he sighs playfully, patting his stomach. 

you hear the traces of slight disappointment in his words and it saddens you. you shake your head, feeling even warmer under the heavy feeling from his eyes blanketing over you while you frown ever so slightly. “i think you look great.” you say truthfully, feeling nervous as soon as the words part from you, worried he might think you’re too forward, but instead he smiles again, looking down at his boots. 

“you’re too kind.” he grins, looking back up at you, his fingers running along the side of his beard. you feel flushed, glancing away from his smiles. 

“goddamn, it is hot in here,” he pinches at his shirt, pulling it back and forth to get a slight breeze. you nod vigorously, plopping back into your stool, fanning yourself once more. “i can show you were the ac’s at,” you offer, and he agrees. 

you guide him to the useless machine, eyeing it down with an irritated look, as if it were alive, and purposefully broken down to spite you. 

he walks over to it, bending down to its level and you balance on your heels awkwardly, overthinking on if it’s the correct social etiquette to say anything right now. 

“hmm, lemme get my belt from the truck, i’ll be back hun,” he nods at you, sending you a smile before he disappears out the store and back to his truck. 

when you’re sure he’s out of view, you curl in on yourself, holding your face and opening your mouth to let out a silent scream. 

all it took was seeing him for two seconds, for a crush you didn’t even remember existed until last night to come back immediately. 

when he returns, he sends you a smile before he goes right to work, setting up shop beside the air conditioner, toolbelt wrapped around the alluring circumference of his waist. 

you imagine what it’d be like if it were your hands instead of the worn down leather that envelops him, how his skin would feel in your palms and jesus, you are being so creepy right now. 

he talks while he works, listing about all the things wrong with the ac, jokingly calling your dad a cheapskate for not being willing enough to upgrade to a functioning one that wasn’t manufactured before you were born. and of course, you laugh, leaning against a counter, hoping he just so happens to turn to the side to spare you a glance and notice that you look effortlessly sexy. 

he mainly keeps his focus on the task at hand but, you keep hoping he turns to look over at you at some point. 

no customers have come in yet, and for once you are eternally grateful for a slow day. 

your eyes trail from his biceps, down to his strong forearms, they look safe, secure, like they could hold you and keep you locked in, and his hands…god his hands. 

they’re long, and big. his wide palms that splay across the side of the ac make the machine somehow look small in comparison. his fingers are so skillful, prodding and working at the screws and confusing bits you didn’t even know were a part of the contraption — but honestly the mechanisms of the ac are not what you care about right now. 

you care about how it would feel if it were your sides, your hips, being touched and caressed instead of the machine, and how his big strong hands could hold onto them, grip them, squeeze them tight like a real man would. 

you notice the way he swipes his forearm across his forehead, clearing away the sweat that beads over the skin, feeling bad that he’s doing so much manual labor in such terrible conditions. 

you depart from your shared space for a moment, padding towards the refrigerators stocked full of drinks. 

you return to him, tapping his shoulder and smiling brightly when he looks at you, eyes darting down to the cold root beer in your hands. “for you. least i can offer while you work,” you beam and he chuckles, switching some weight onto his left foot, his hand resting on his hip when he graciously takes the bottle from you. 

“well thank you hun,” he tips his head at you, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. 

you watch the way his lips curl around the rim, how his hand just about swallows the entire bottle and the way his adam’s apple bobs while he drinks. you have to fight back the urge to squeeze your thighs together to alleviate the tingly feeling spreading inside you. 

“how’d you remember i like root beer?” he asks, eyes peering at you with a warm surprise, his fingers twisting the screwdriver into the side of the ac. 

you hop up onto the counter beside him, swinging your legs while you shrug. “just randomly came to mind i guess,” he turns to look at you, taking note of the way his eyes land on your bare legs first before they flicker back up to your eyes. you feel a little cocky about that. 

“always were a helpful girl,” he says, and you just about glow at his little compliment, folding a leg over the other while you rest on your palms, trying to hide how big your smile grows. 

“thank you,” you say quieter, shyer than you mean to. 

you two converse a bit longer, and you decide to sneakily flip the open sign to closed in the window while you listen to his responses. 

the topic of college is brought up, and you respond to his questions about how it’s going, what you’re majoring in, and you answer, creative writing, feeling flushed when he pauses his work to smile at you. 

“an’ you know what, you always were a storyteller when you were young, i bet you’ve only gotten better since,” he says wistfully, fondly imagining you typing away and creating stories he’d happily read all about. 

he’s not a big reader, but for you? he could be. 

when he finishes up, he calls you over, turning the knob on high and watching as the ac releases what sounds like a guttural groan before a gust of icy air greets your bare arms. 

you gasp and squeal in delight over no longer being slowly cooked to death in your parent’s mini mart.

“thank you mr. miller you’re literally the best,” you gush and he waves you off, gathering his tools as he nears the register. 

“ahh don’t worry ‘bout it. i’m happy to do it. ‘specially if ya had anyone else do it for you, i know you’d get charged damn near an arm and a leg,” he rests his hands on the counter and your eyes trace over his long fingers while you make your way beside him. you feel giddy when you notice the tan line on his ring finger. 

a reminder of the fact that he’s single now. 

you just nod, holding back from saying something along the lines of how you’d be more than happy to pay him for this service with a…different kind of service of your own in return. 

“so how much was the root beer hun?” he asks, flicking through the bills in his wallet. you immediately shake your head, ignoring his protests of accepting a free drink. 

“no that was on the house mr. miller, i will not take your money,” you say stubbornly and he squints at you, huffing in defeat. “you sure? don’t want you gettin’ in trouble with your folks if they find out you’re out here givin things away for free now,” his hands settle on his hips and he gives you a playfully testing look, still managing to cause a flurry of emotions to ripple inside your lower tummy. 

“who’s gonna tell them?” you counter, voice lowering just a little, eyes following in suit as you stare up at him. 

his soft chuckle fades between his parted lips at the shift in your demeanor. his jaw comes down for a second before his lips curl to the side. “alright, thank you sweetpea,” he concedes just an octave above a murmur. 

“is there anything else you wanted to get? because in all seriousness, they’d probably get more upset at me for actually charging you instead of just letting you have it for free.” you say truthfully, feeling positive that your dad wouldn’t mind joel taking a few things home free of charge. 

he holds out that big hand of his, chuckling when his gaze shifts to the ground before it rests back over on you. “nah s’alright hun, root beer was already mighty gracious of you,” but you’re not buying it, you head behind the register, arms extending along the expanse of the wall of products, pretending to sell the items like you’re showcasing the prizes on a game show. 

“you suuure? anything you want, completely free,” you offer temptingly and his lips collect themselves to the side of his mouth, chuckling mutedly, a little shake of his head as he watches you. 

“alright,” he leans forward, and you feel your throat get a little tight at his ministrations, suddenly noticing the slight glimmer of a chain hidden beneath his shirt. 

“can you get me that pack of marlboro reds behind you hun?” he points at the carton of cigarettes, and for some reason his request makes your stomach get tight. 

you think back to how not even a day ago you rambled about your visceral dislike for boys, discarding them as a waste of time — but joel isn’t a boy. he’s a man, and may the version of yourself who existed moments before he came in, forgive you for being a melted pile of hypocritical mush he’s managed to turn you into in the span of less than two hours. 

you can hear your mother’s scoff in your head as you find yourself feeling giggly at his choice of a freebie. it’s just so. manly. 

he’s so manly. 

you hand him the carton and he pockets it, not before taking a cigarette out, deciding to indulge early. “thank you sweetpea,” he smiles, cigarette already being placed between his lips. 

“no problem,” you nod with a grin. he eyes the closed sign before he looks at you once more with a knowing smirk. “closing early i see,” he pointedly nods at the sign and you shrug with a sheepish little smile, neither confirming nor denying the notion. 

“lemme guess—folks won’t mind? and would actually be more upset if you didn’t close up early?” he teases, and it almost feels like flirting. you decide to tell yourself it is. so you play along, rolling your eyes and waving your hand dismissively with an equally teasing ha. ha. ha laugh. 

“it’s been a slow day, so no, they actually won’t mind, for your information,” you fold your arms, wriggling your face blithely. he chuckles, lighting his cigarette, taking a drag before he continues. “d’you need a ride home then hun?” he asks, genuinely offering and you have to forcibly give yourself a moment to pause before immediately yelling an overly enthusiastic YES PLEASE. 

“are you sure? you’ve already done a lot for me today,” you act a little bashful, mostly because you are, but you also are attempting to hide the excitement bubbling inside you at the thought of being alone with him in his truck. 

he shakes his head, exhaling the smoke from his lips silently, unknowingly entrancing you. “ts’ not a problem at all, cmon,” he motions his head towards the door and you trail along like a lost puppy.  

you lock up the door behind you before you’re greeted by the sight of joel holding the passenger seat open for you. 

your face gets hotter than it was before he fixed the ac at the sight of his chivalry, pretending to curtsy with your invisible dress before you climb into his truck, mumbling a shy thank you, as he safely closes the door behind you. 

he hops in, and you read your address out for him as he turns the keys in the ignition. 

it’s a little silent for awhile, but it’s okay, you’re content stealing glances at him, hiding behind the fist that supports the weight of your tilted head, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your eyes cast over him adoringly. 

he’s so beautiful. you definitely had taste as a kid. 

he even looks strong, and not in an annoying machismo way, but in a natural, humble way. a kind way. 

you want to touch his broad shoulders, kiss your way down his biceps to his forearms and down to each and every finger of his. you want to kiss away all the callouses and take care of him the way he deserves. 

you can’t believe you’re daydreaming about him in such a way right in front of him, especially since it’s the first time you’ve seen him in about 16 years and this is how you react. 

oh well. 

the contrast of grey in his soft looking brown hair is so complementary, you hope he hasn’t turned into one of those guys that put dye over it, because frankly you think the natural look suits him quite well. 

you drift your stares down to his strong hooked nose, admiring how charming it is. you want to trace your finger tip down the slope of it, and uh oh he’s looking at you. 

you can’t be too obvious in your actions, despite the fact that you already are, so you just smile instead of whipping your head around in the opposite direction like you wish you could. “can i try?” you ask, motioning towards his cigarette, trying to play off the situation as to not expose the real reason why you were staring. 

he just chuckles under his breath, his smile lingering when he turns to look back at the road. “that’s ahh, not really a good habit you wanna get yourself into sweetpea.” he says with a small shake of his head. 

you almost give up right there, but you decide to push just a little further. “it won’t be a habit, i just wanna see the appeal is all,” you turn in the seat to fully face him, smile growing when he leans his head towards you in a jokingly exasperated tilt. he says your name warningly, and you deflate for a moment, worried he may actually be annoyed with you. 

you don’t say anything else and he notices, feeling bad at your silence. he sighs with guilt, wanting to remedy the incorrect thoughts you have of him being upset at you as he hands you the cigarette. you instantly perk, taking it into your own fingers. “careful now. you might choke, waters right there in the cup holder if it burns. don’t inhale it too long,” he instructs, watching you from the corner of his eyes to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. 

you wave away his worries, placing the stick between your lips, feeling warm all over when you get a thought that says it’s kind of like we just kissed through the cigarette. 

you inhale, hold it in for a few passing seconds before you’re proving his warnings correct, coughing loudly and not flatteringly whatsoever. 

you try to face away from him, your eyes beginning to water and your throat burning worse than when you smoked from a very suspicious wax pen. the last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this. 

he brings a hand behind your back, rubbing it soothingly as he sighs to himself, feeling a tinge of guilt for letting you smoke. 

“easy honey easy, drink some water,” he hands you the bottle of water and you down it, blinking away your tears as you hand him back his cigarette. “that was so embarrassing i’m so sorry,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. 

“s’alright honey, least now i bet you really won’t wanna make this a habit now right?” he asks, hoping you confirm your aversion to cigarettes. you instead choose to tease him a little, humming a contradictory response to his question. he squints at you and you giggle. “i dunno, might have to try again so i can really make sure.” 

he taps the ashes out the window, laughing at your reply. “you’re gonna get me in trouble with your dad there hun f’he finds out i turned his daughter into a little chain smoker,” 

you slide your hands under your thighs, watching him for a moment before you speak. “i won’t tell if you don’t,” you repeat yourself from earlier, alluding to something else, hoping he reads your mind and understands your allusions. 

he purses his lips in a slight upward furl, looking at you once he’s reached a red light. “someone’s gotten a whole lot sneakier since the last time i saw her,” you laugh, leaning into the headrest while you look at him. “a lots changed since,” you say, voice falling quietly and he holds your stare, his eyes betraying him by clearly darting down to your lips. the red light switches back to green, forcing him to look away from you. 

your chest bloomed at the way he looked at you in that moment, unsure if you’re delusional in even considering the possibility he maybe could reciprocate the attraction you’re feeling. but a little delusion never hurt anyone anyways. 

“it sure has,” he agrees, the corner of his eyes taking in your figure once more. 

but he shakes the thought from his head, almost rebuking it and instead deciding to change the subject. “can’t fault you too much though. sarah’s the same way sometimes,” he says through a chuckle that sounds nervous — did you make him nervous? 

again, you tell yourself you did. 

you sit up straight at the mention of sarah, visibly growing excited. “oh my god sarah, how is she? it’s been so long, i’m sure she doesn’t remember me,” blurred memories of playing with plastic makeup sets, and real makeup you two ‘borrowed’ from her mom, replay in your mind at the mention of her. 

he shakes his head, disagreeing at your slightly saddened thought of being forgotten by sarah. “she’s good, she’s in school just like yourself, and she does remember you hun! matter a fact, she’s home right now, if you’d like, you can come over for dinner and catch up with her,” you clap your hands together excitedly, nodding happily at his suggestion. 

“yes! that sounds amazing, i would love to!” you accept and he smiles at the thought of his two girls sitting together talking at the dinner table. 

“i’m sure she’s gonna lose her mind when she sees you,” he squeezes your knee and you go still, frozen in place when you feel the heat from his palm radiate into your skin. 

his touch is gone too soon, you want to hold his wrist and keep him there, but you pretend his fleeting touch doesn’t affect you as strongly as it actually does. 

the heat from his skin has become yours and you cradle it, pretending you’re not beaming in his passenger seat from it while he talks. 

“i’m kinda nervous, it’s been so long,” you say, pressing the backs of your fingers to your cheeks and feeling the warmth of nervousness flush to the surface of your face. 

“don’t be sweetpea, nothin to be nervous about, i promise,” he comforts your nerves with a soft voice, and you allow it to cushion you. 

—

joel was right about two things. 

you really did have nothing to worry about, you and sarah clicked right away as if no time had passed. she squealed when she saw you, racing towards you and enveloping you in a tight hug, rambling about how she’s missed you so much. it felt good to know you were never forgotten in her mind. 

he was also right about sarah being sneaky. 

or rather ‘persuasive’ and ‘just so happens to forget to mention certain things’ as she would put it. 

she managed to convince both joel (which didn’t take much convincing to begin with) and your dad to let you sleep over, which you were ecstatic about for obvious reasons but also because she saved you from having to scramble for a reason as to why you closed up the shop early. 

you’re in her bed now, sitting behind her while you help gather her hair into her baby pink bonnet, talking about anything and everything there is to talk about. while also getting ready to sleep off the high from the wax pen she has hidden under her pillow. 

“i can’t believe you’re really here with me right now,” she grins as you move back in front of her, leaning into her opening arms. 

“i know, me too, it’s been so long,” you hum, rubbing her shoulders. “i’m kidnapping you by the way, this was all just an elaborate scheme to lure you in.” she mentions casually and you laugh, falling back into her bed with her while you rest your head on her shoulder. 

“fine by me,” you say, and you mean it, but you don’t add that in.

“i’m happy you’re here,” she whispers, her nose scrunching up against yours. you smile, holding your forehead to hers. “i am too.” 

“are you busy tomorrow?” she asks, pulling the blankets over your bodies. you shake your head, curling under the covers. “nah, we’re closed tomorrow at the store and i don’t have school that day,” you say, feeling pure adoration as you watch sarah’s smile grow the more she listens to you talk. 

“why don’t we spend the day together then! my dad’s gonna be at work so we’ll have the house to ourselves,” she whispers as all the excitement from the day starts to add weight into your bones, easing you both into rest. 

you nod and smile sleepily, leaning into her arm that drapes over your side. “okay, i’ll call my dad tomorrow,” you yawn and she closes her eyes at that, content by your answer. 

— 

it’s 3am. you should not be awake. but you are, and you’re looking over at sarah, wishing you were fast asleep like she is. you carefully peel yourself out of her arms, gently covering her with the blankets before you pad out of her room and down into the kitchen for some water. 

you tiptoe down the stairs, your heart sinking nervously right into a tight spot inside your stomach when you see the fridge door agape, with a broad back sticking out of it, also in search of something to drink. 

joel rises and turns to see your stilled figure standing awkwardly, staring forward like you’ve just gotten caught stealing. 

he chuckles, scratching a few lazy fingers down his stubble when he shuts the fridge. “what’re you doin up sweetpea?” he asks, and oh god his voice is nice and gravely, a rasp from the depths of sleep that he evades every night careens around your ears and you nearly fold at the knees. 

“just uh, randomly woke up and i couldn’t go back to bed. was just gonna get some water, sorry,” you sound meek and joel shakes his head, and walks closer. you panic a little. it’s a good panic. 

“nuthin’ to be sorry about hun, i’ll getchu some water,” he holds your arm, smiling softly down at you, nodding at you for confirmation. once again his touch abandons the skin of your upper arm when he leaves to fetch a cup for your water. 

your hand graces the skin he touched as you watch him pour you water. he hands it to you, and you thank him quietly, taking a sip from the old plastic disney princess cup he picked out for you. 

“so what woke you up? you feelin’ alright?” he murmurs, coming in close again to press the back of his hand to your forehead. you weren’t overheating until he decided to do that. 

you swallow hard, shaking your head beneath his hand. “n-no no—well i mean yes, yes i’m-i’m okay, i just wake up randomly at odd hours of the night for some reason sometimes,” you say hushedly, afraid to disturb the peaceful silence the night brings. 

he nods understandingly, withdrawing his hand from your face and you want to tell him he can keep it there, but you mentally digress. 

“happens to me too,” he sighs, visibly tired with a hand lazily running down his stubble. “sorry you’re goin’ through it too then hun,” his thumb runs a small circle over your shoulder comfortingly and your body molds around the curve of his fingers. 

“it’s okay,” you mumble shyly and he smiles softly, his touch stalling on yours before it drops back to his side. the air that fills the quiet kitchen turns into something warm and calming when it floats between your tired bodies, and it feels nice. feels domestic. soft smiles mirror each other on your faces and you look away, unable to handle the weight of his stare. 

“so, do you um…do anything that helps you fall asleep?” you ask curiously, mostly just trying to make conversation to keep him tethered to you, even for just a moment longer. 

he scratches his scruffy beard and sighs, nodding like he’s somewhat ashamed to admit. you grow curiouser, deciding to test the waters and inch in just the tiniest bit closer. “and what do you do?” you question through a whisper. 

“i smoke,” he responds just as hushed and you chuckle. “sounds like you’ve got a bad habit.” you prod, lightly teasing and he takes the playful jab, chuckling along with you. 

“well, we’ve all got our vices,” he smiles at you in a way that's playfully guilty, and you roll your eyes with the same playfulness before speaking again. “was i stopping you from taking a smoke?” you ask, and he shakes his head, denying the notion. “no no, and if you were it’d probably be for the best,” he shrugs and you grin. an idea occurs in your mind. 

“can i smoke with you again?” you ask bravely and the volume in his laugh rises before he’s silencing himself so as to not wake sarah. 

“ain’t happenin’, shouldn’t have even happened the first time,” he immediately shoots down your request but you have a sneaking suspicion you’ll wear him down. 

“but you said it helps you go to sleep,” you counter with a pout and he sighs with faux exasperation. 

“hun,” he says warningly again, eyeing you in a way that pins you where you stand. “first time seein’ you in what? 15 to 16 years and i’m already becomin’ a bad influence on you.” he says amusedly, his fingers dipping into the pocket of his plaid pajama bottoms, tracing over the curve of the loose cigarettes that await him. 

“it’s not like you’re giving me hard drugs mr. miller,” you say, tilting a shoulder at him persuasively. his eyes trace over your face for a few passing seconds, taking in the way you look back at him before he decides what to do next.

“last time, understand? just to help you sleep.” he says, but it sounds like he’s more so reminding himself than he is you. 

“okay,” you smile, following him to the loveseat that faces the window, and you assume this is where he usually smokes. 

he cracks open the window, and sits down into the plump cushion, leaning against the very texan quilt that drapes over the seat. you sit down on the arm of the seat, stretching your legs above his knees, the closeness in proximity feels so personal, and you want to live the rest of your life in this quiet and intimate hour with joel. 

he hands you a cigarette, watching you put it between your lips, his available hand straying off to the side to grab the lighter that’s on the tray beside the loveseat. 

he flicks the lighter on and your faces become illuminated by the small flickering flame. he looks beautiful as he carefully lights the end of it, his eyes on the bud of it while your’s memorize each and every wrinkle that crinkles around his eyes. 

“inhale, careful now,” his words of concern blanket over you and pave a smooth passageway for the smoke to enter into your lungs, successfully preventing you from breaking out into another coughing fit. 

you inhale, and keep it before you fan it out the window. he smiles and pats your ankle that rests beside his lap. “there ya go,” he nods the crown of his head at you proudly. you bow humbly, handing him the cigarette. 

“feels nice. makes me feel warm,” you mumble tiredly, watching the way he takes a drag effortlessly. “don’t get too used to it now,” he chides, words shadowed amidst the mist of his smoke. 

“i won’t,” you reply with a knowing smile as he goes to hands it back to you. he pulls his hand that holds the cigarette back, eyeing you. he says your name in that tone and you wave him off, taking the cigarette from his fingers. “kidding,” you remedy his worries of your possible nicotine addiction in the nearby future, inhaling another drag.

you two go back and forth like this for awhile, until the cigarette becomes an unrecognizable little stub,

“feel sleepy yet?” he exhales through a fanning breath, and you nod, watching him flatten the bud into the ashtray beside his side of the armrest. 

“good,” he yawns, lazily running a hand across the side of his beard. “got a long day tomorrow — or today technically, an’ so do you little miss, try an’ get some rest.” he drawls softly, sleepily, and you nod your tired head at his words, free falling into them. 

“goodnight sweetpea,” he says with a gentle finality, leaning in to hold you by the back of your head, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. you crumble into his touch, shutting your eyes as if to fossilize yourself in the moment. 

“goodnight,” you whisper, feeling cold when he pulls away. you wish you had thought of something more to say, anything at all that would’ve kept him in your presence for just a little longer, but now you’re stuck sitting alone in the living room, watching his broad back ascend up the stairs, wishing you were trailing behind him, with your hand in his. 

you finish the rest of your water before you’re trudging back up the stairs, the weight of exhaustion lowering its heft onto your shoulders with each step upwards. 

and as you crawl back into bed with sarah, despite the attempts to push the thoughts away, all you can think about are the ways in which her father could tire you out until you fell asleep.

___ 

after that day, the miller household practically became your second home. more often than not showing up to their house rather than your own after school and work. 

at first you were worried that maybe you were beginning to overstay your welcome, that maybe they just didn’t know how to tell you to stop coming over so often. but they quickly put those insecurities to rest when sarah called you wondering why you hadn’t shown up after work, saying how joel set a plate for you at the table and it was getting cold. 

they were just as attached to you as you were to them. 

they really loved having you over, loved getting to make up for all those years you all went without each other, taking the time to relearn everything there is to know about the other. 

for instance, joel learned you have an affinity for tight tank tops that ride a little too low on your chest and rise a little too high whenever you bend down. 

his fingers have a tendency to straighten out your spaghetti straps, and he always murmurs something along the lines of, showin a lotta skin today huh hun? 

you’d grow warm under his touch, hiding behind a pretty grin and an excuse of oh, heat’s just gettin’ to me lately, or his personal favorite,  damn dryer shrunk my clothes again. 

he doesn’t mind whatever your excuse is, he’d just hand you his flannel, telling you to at least wrap it around your waist whenever guys were around, because i know how men think, he’d explain and you wouldn’t argue, you’d happily accept his flannel and listen to his heeding. 

you wonder if he was having the same thoughts he was trying to prevent other men from having about you. 

you like to tell yourself he was. 

but there is one thing you don’t have to convince yourself of. joel really, truly, and utterly cares for you. 

joel is nothing if not protective, he just wants to look out for you, make sure you’re safe, that you’re okay, and so when you called him at work, voice trembling and meekly asking if he can pick you up, naturally, he abandoned his meeting at work to race over to you. 

creating blueprints for a new apartment building suddenly became unimportant the second he heard your voice crack over the phone.  

he could hear the way your breath paused for a moment, only to come out shakily through tears when he asked if you were alright. your audible sadness casted immediate worry and concern over him, instilling itself in his chest. 

he sees you now, rushing to walk out of the store, locking it on your way out, and he hops out of his truck, wanting to be the first thing you’re greeted by as soon as you raise your head. 

relief rinses through you the moment you see joel standing in front of his truck, your eyes betraying the attempt at strength you were fighting so hard to have the second he pulls you into his arms. 

his hands feel warm and heavy behind your back, rubbing all the quiet sobs out from you with each gentle circular movement. 

“oh babygirl,” he murmurs under his breath, feeling his heart break with each little gasp you make through your tears. “what happened?” he asks, unintentionally causing the tears to fall harder, making you fist at his button up. 

“today has been so bad,” you finally say, your head resting on his strong chest, shaking fingers tracing over the seams of his button up in an attempt at self soothing. 

“wanna get inside an’ talk about it?” he asks just above a whisper, keeping his voice soft for you. you nod, twisting the knife in his chest when you sniffle. 

he helps you into his truck, shutting the door behind you, meeting back with you soon once he’s in the driver’s seat. 

“now what happened honey?” he asks, and you take in a deep breath through the tears, waving your hands at your eyes to try and stop the stinging sensation at your waterline. 

“today has just been one bad thing after the other,” you wipe away the stray tears with annoyed fists, wishing they would cease their incessant presence. “first, i got into a fight with my dad, he called me selfish and inconsiderate for not canceling class to come down to the shop earlier and that there’s no point in attending class because i’m just gonna get overwhelmed and quit anyway,” you barely manage to say tearfully, further etching a frown into joel’s features, his chest aching at the way you’re visibly hurting. 

he says your name tenderly, matching the way his hand reaches out for you to hold. you squeeze his hand, holding onto it when it rises upwards to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping a stray tear across your cheekbone. 

you lean into his palm, shutting your eyes at his touch. “and i’m scared he’s right, today in class i was so stressed all i wanted to do was walk out,” you whimper ashamedly, and joel shushes you, bringing his free hand to fully hold your face, turning your gaze back up to meet his. his hold on you is delicate, like you’re a dandelion amidst a strong breeze, and all he wants to do is keep you with him, safe and sound. 

your cheeks are cradled by his hands, his calluses turning into a thing of comfort against your cheeks, along with his thumbs that swipe away the tears that refuse to concede from your lash line. 

he holds you like this for a while, wordlessly guiding your breathing with his, evening out your sporadic hiccups induced by your crying, settling your nerves down to a more manageable level. 

your eyes flutter shut at the safety he drapes over you, your smaller hands holding onto his wrists, mindlessly running your thumb along his knuckles. “wish you were with me at work today,” you mumble, imagining the way he would’ve protected you from the creepy customers you had to deal with. 

“what else happened?” he lightly coaxes it out of you, wanting you to get everything out so you don’t have to carry the burden of the day’s stress on your shoulders. 

“these guys came in, and they were just so weird,” your hands tighten around his wrists, recounting the uncomfortable interaction you were subjected to. 

“kept…kept making weird jokes about everything…i said if they needed anything to let me know and i heard one of them tell their friend i better be careful saying things like that, and they like—ugh,” you take a moment to catch your breath, refocusing on the way joel’s gently running his fingers across your temples, something he’d do for you in the middle of the night whenever you’d get a headache. 

“they kept making jokes about me taking off my clothes because it’s summer and it’s hot or whatever i dunno it was stupid but they kept ‘suggesting’ i should lose the tank top because walking around in a bra is the same as wearing s bikini at the beach,” you grimace at the fresh memory, and joel wants to take it away from you, wants to wash you clean of all the pain you felt today. 

when you look up at joel his jaw is clenched, lower jaw jutting out in anger, his hands falling from your face down to your hands, holding them in his, while he shakes his head. “fuckin’ disgusting,” he mutters to himself. “probably good i wan’t there, woulda fuckin’ killed them,” he utters under his breath, and more so to himself, his hands migrating down to your hands, squeezing them hard. his eyes that hold an image of what he’d do to the men who harassed you dissipate as soon as they shift back up to you. “i’m sorry hun,” he sighs, cupping your cheek, cradling you into his palm, speaking gentler this time, “an’ as for your dad well…he’s an asshole. but i know you already know that,” he pauses to smile at your little giggle. 

“he couldn’t be more wrong about you. you are so smart hun, an’ you can and will accomplish everything you set your mind to.” the soft gravel of his voice tides around you like an embrace, enveloping you in it as an attempt to wash you clean of your distress. 

your eyes well and your heart soars up high inside your chest at his kindness. 

“thank you mr. miller, you are so nice to me, it—it means so much coming from you, and i can’t even begin to explain how grateful i am that you even came here at all,” he left work for you. you groan with guilt at the remembrance. “and—god i’m so sorry that i just like, randomly called you at work i’m so sorry you were probably super busy, i just didn’t know who else to go to,” you ramble with guilt, but joel’s already shaking his head as you rattle off with apologies, his hands coming back up to your cheeks, stilling the words on your tongue. 

“hey hey hey,” he shushes you softly. “no apologies, okay?” his thumb runs under your lash line, clearing away your tears. “i’m glad you called me, rather you call me than have to hear what happened from someone else.” he pacifies your guilt for calling him, and he does it successfully, watching the upset furrow between your brows disappear. 

your lip trembles and you suck it in between your teeth, closing your eyes and leaning forward into his chest. he takes you in with no hesitation, his arms forever acting as a sanctity for you to hide in whenever you need. 

he hesitantly pulls away from you for a moment, mumbling a soft, give me a sec sweetie. he shifts around to the pull at the bottom of the driver seat, extending it backwards and giving him more space between him and the steering wheel. 

“cmere,” he says above a whisper, opening his arms for you once more. you’re being guided into his lap, gently wrangled in until you’re wrapped up in the thick protection of his strong biceps. he rubs your back, head resting safely on top of your’s, keeping you down to earth, keeping you in his arms. 

he takes in all your tears, takes in every racking sob from your chest into his, his lips every so often pressing their silent reminders of his presence into your temple. he rocks you back and forth, his soft shushes folding over the sound of your fading cries, lulling you into a calmness you didn’t know you could feel. 

“you’re okay, you’re okay,” he promises, and you believe him. you finally raise your head from his chest, the scent of him still lingering around you, his presence feels pliable, the way he’s looking at you, eyes downturned and scanning all over your face lovingly feels like a sign you know isn’t real. he says nothing, just clears away your stray tears, and that’s when you act. 

you lean in, holding his wrist and intertwining your fingers as your lips do the same. you sigh into his mouth, ascending in his arms when you feel him kiss you back just as rushedly, almost like if he’s too slow you’ll vanish from him. 

but it’s him who vanishes first. he pulls apart from you with a gasp, shifting you further away from him in his lap, your heart immediately cracking straight down the middle. “what’re you…what are you doing?” his questioning comes out breathless, he feels like he’s asking himself rather than he is you, and he prays you say the right thing, he prays that you call him disgusting and that you climb right out of his lap, removing the temptation and opportune to lean back in. 

but you don’t. “i’m sorry,” you whimper, embarrassment flushing through your whole body, he shuts his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. “i’m too old for you, you know that right?,” his knuckles drag across your cheekbone, and you nod solemnly, swallowing hard. “i’m not a kid though, joel,” you say shakenly, nerves rattling your bones when you say his name for the first time, unhidden by the lieu of mr. miller. 

“compared to me, you are,” he sighs, his hands gripping his own thighs, weighing them down to prevent them from gravitating to your’s. “i’m too old for you,” he repeats to himself, closing his eyes and leaning into the headrest, the sight and feeling of you looking up at him in his lap is too much for him to combat. “i’d be takin advantage of you,” he mutters, shaking his head, guilt starting to settle into the base of his chest. 

you’re quiet for awhile, and he takes it as his answer. that he’s right, this is wrong. 

but you contradict his thoughts. reaching up to pull his gaze back onto you. “you’re not taking advantage of me, i know that i want this.” you promise hushedly, and he wants to believe you. your eyes connect once more, a quiet tug of air being shared between the two of you, and you’re willing to let him have it, to let him have all the air you can offer and more. he leans in and you stay still, watching when he inches backward when he gets too close, like you’re a flame whose flicker burns too bright the closer he gets. and when you inch in, you can’t get yourself to break the seal and press yourself into him, a weight of nerves keeping you stagnant before him. 

his stare rises and falls down from your eyes to your lips, and you feel it in your bones that your body needs to have him more than it needs anything else. your gaze rests on him while your body acts for you, your hand finding his and holding it, squeezing it. “please,” you whisper, your words leaving you before you can process them. he swallows down everything holding him back, lurching forward to take your lips into his. his hand slides from yours, and up your arm, squeezing it as a test to see if you’re real. his hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, kissing you hard and keeping you still, greedily wanting to keep you all for himself, wanting to memorize the taste of cherry coke on your tongue and raspberry lip balm on your lips.

it smears across his own lips, your taste immersing with his own, his mustache and beard tickling your skin just like you imagined it would, and you moan in his mouth at the feeling, flicking your tongue desperately over his, mindlessly bucking your hips against his. he groans deeply into you, grasping your hips and rocking himself into you, not a single thought in his head, just a carnal need to feel your cunt satiate the ache traveling down his cock. 

you pull apart for a breath, lips still pushed together, foreheads melded in close, hips crashing into each other with need. “feels so good,” you whimper into his mouth, the pleasure from the friction making you blatantly honest. 

he nods in agreement, never having heard truer words. his fingers indent the shape of themselves into your flesh, his hips acting on their own, desperate to push up into you while his mouth catches yours once more. 

he groans, his cock twitching when he feels you slip your tongue into his mouth, a little moan of your own floating out when you taste a hint of root beer from his kiss. 

your movements grow rushed, hands finding the heft of his flannel and fisting it to steady the heavy rocking of your hips crashing and tiding over his cock. 

desperation flows in your veins where your blood once was, replacing all sense of anything except for the physical need to rut your cunt against his bulge. he can’t keep up, all he can do is let his head fall in your shoulder, his big hands coming around to find purchase on your welcoming hips. his thighs clench underneath yours, tensing when he feels you dampen him through his pants. 

“baby,” he finally lets out shakily, thumbs running circles over your hips. “can’t—shit,” a beat passes with an involuntary grunt falling from his lips. “cant, can’t do this here,” he breathes, eyes hanging low upon you, his hips betraying his words with each thrust that meets your pelvis. 

you slow your movements, catching your breath quietly, nodding in a silent agreement. “i don’t wanna stop,” you admit truthfully, no longer feeling bashful about the fact.  

his cock aches at your honesty and he exhales through his nose, his hands tightening around you. “don’t have to,” he swallows, eyes drifting down to your hardened nipples. “just not here.” 

his answer satiates you, which almost leaves him regretful when you climb off his lap and leave him cold and void of your warm cunt pressed up against him. 

he starts the truck and all you can do is stare at the concentrated look on his face and his hands gripping the steering wheel. 

you wonder if he’ll hold you by your throat the same way. your thighs squeeze together tightly, causing the hem of your jean shorts to rub against your clit just enough to soothe the ache inadvertently caused by joel. 

he notices, eyeing you up and down, lips parted just a breadth at the sight. his hand itches to alleviate some of the pressure you’re carrying deep inside you, but instead he alleviates some of his own first. his right hand falls from the steering wheel for a moment, just to squeeze his cock when he watches the way you squirm and stare up at him from his passenger seat. 

he turns away, knowing he’ll crash if he keeps staring at you, bringing his wandering hand back to the wheel. 

“can i touch you?” you ask, seemingly innocent and his eyes shut for a passing second, a curt  shake of his head joining the action. “not a good idea—“ he really wants you to though “gonna make me crash,” he exhales, though his hips say otherwise, inching towards your side with need. 

your hand trails from his thigh down to his crotch, palming over him gently, and he grips the steering wheel, jaw vibrating with low groans. 

a 10 minute drive has never felt so far until now. 

your fingers curl over his bulge, straining against the seatbelt trying to lean in as close as it’ll let you until you decide to rid yourself of it all together. 

“seatbelt,” he says warningly, and with concern, but you wash it away the second your lips meet the side of his neck, with your hand pawing over him to ensure his submission. and joel just about crumbles far too easily at the touches. 

you’re impatient, he definitely sees that now, and you’re making it way harder than it needs to be for him to maintain his self control. 

“i thought about this a lot,” you hum in his ear, leaving kisses in the wake of your warm words. his throat gets tight just like his lower belly, excitement strumming through him when he halts at a red light. 

he turns towards you now, his hand dipping between your thighs, a little upward curl of his lips teasing the side of your cheek, his scruff leaving kisses of their own on your skin. 

you stifle a whimper, holding onto his wrist when you grind down on his fingers. “thought about touching me like how i’m touchin’ you?” he murmurs, pressing chaste kisses to your jaw. you nod, your chest pounding at the wave of realization of what’s happening. it excites you. 

“thought about it too,” he pulls away from you when the light turns green, and you stay frozen, your body suddenly unsure of how to function with a lack of his touch and proximity. 

“didn’t wanna admit it to myself, but i thought about doin…a lot more than that whenever you’d come around,” he pays you a once over, his eyes lingering over the plushness of your thighs that fill his passenger seat. 

“your skirts and shorts kept gettin’ so damn short, i felt guilty for wondering if it was on purpose,” a smugness takes over his face when he glances at you. “an’ now i know it was.” 

you flutter at his confessions, a sense of pride swelling in you at the confirmation that your little tactics seemed to have paid off. “i just wanted your attention,” you say softly, words falling like pillows and he catches them with open arms. 

his glance shifts from his crotch, up to your eyes knowingly, and he smiles faintly. “i can tell you that you had it even before you started wearin all that,” he rests his hand on your thigh, guiding the wheel with his left hand now. “but i can’t say i minded the change in outfits.” he brings his fingers over your clit, putting pressure over it and you whine quietly, bucking your hips into his touch. 

“if you ever want me to stop you need to tell me okay?” he tells you, and he’s serious, his fingers pull away for emphasis and you nod profusely, holding onto his wrist desperately. “i promise, joel i don’t wanna stop,” you plead with him, and as a simple man that he is, he doesn’t seem to need much more convincing. the pads of his fingers run circles over your clothed clit, and you grind down into it, hungry for more. 

“i want you,” you pant and he chuckles, drumming his thumb against the steering wheel. 

“you’ve got me.” 

“but i want more.” 

— 

it’s quiet when you arrive back at his house, the driveway is thankfully void of sarah’s little yellow volkswagen and relief blankets across your shoulders knowing she isn’t home. 

he ushers you inside, his broad, strong chest pressed up against your back with his hands guiding you by your hips. 

he closes the door with his back, leaning against it, watching you turn around to face him. it’s quiet for a few ticking seconds, and he watches as you lean in closer towards him. he doesn’t stop you but he doesn’t lean in to meet you halfway either. he says your name like he’s unsure if he’s even allowed to utter it, purposefully avoiding eye contact. you hum a soft little “yes?” and he sighs, his eyes falling shut for a moment. 

“this ain’t right,” he reminds himself, and his hands begin to loosen on your hips. you clamp a hand over one of his, the other coming up to lure him back into you, a gentle palm of yours cupping his scruffy jaw, thumb running across the crows feet that gather at the corner of his eye. “says who?” you counter gingerly and he chuckles breathlessly, shaking his head in your hold, feeling all restraint trickle straight off him the second his eyes catch yours. 

you move your hand away from his when his grip grows tight again, letting your now free hand hold both sides of his face when you go up on your tippy toes to meet him for a kiss. 

he catches you off guard and pulls you deeper into him, your crotches pressed flush together when he slips his tongue into your mouth, hooking and reeling you in. 

you moan into his mouth and it eggs him on, sending his hand into a downward motion towards your ass. he feels smug when you whimper in his mouth, pushing harder against his cock when he squeezes your ass. 

he rubs over your ass posessively, squeezing it hard, almost in disbelief that he gets to have you like this. kiss “need you to tell me if and when you wanna stop,” kiss. you don’t reply, you just fall into him whenever he presses his lips back to yours. your lack of a response leaves him discontent and he pulls apart an inch, eyeing you down expectantly. you huff impatiently, hooking your arms around his neck. “promise. i will.” which is good enough for him as he melds into you once more. 

his hands roam all over you, caressing, holding, squeezing all the places that only his eyes have traveled. 

it feels good, it feels all encompassing, to feel the trails of fire his hands leave all across your skin, and you can’t get enough. “can we,” a kiss to your throat, “go to your room?” you ask, somewhat breathless and he pauses for a second, eyes tracing the outline of your bitten lips before he nods. he holds your hand, leading you into his bedroom. 

the second you’re inside you’re guiding him into his own bed after having shut the door. he gazes at you amusedly, handing you the reins for a moment, keeping his hands on the edge of them while you take charge. he thinks it’s cute. 

you sit him at the edge of his bed, straddling him while you push at his chest until his back meets the mattress. you’re leaning back down, holding his face in your hands, your lips hastily meeting his once more. he welcomes you, his hands holding you down on top of him by your hips. 

you grind down on him, panting in his mouth at how good it feels to have him pressed right against your cunt. but it’s not enough. you need more. 

your hands travel down his strong chest, fixing towards unbuttoning his flannel. he lets you, busying himself with unbuttoning your little denim shorts, but he wants to unwrap you slowly. he wants to make a show of it. 

he flips you on your back and you gasp, feeling hot under his stare and stature above you. his knees rest on either side of you, indenting the bed while he maintains eye contact. his fingers take their time unzipping your shorts, and you whine quietly, bucking your hips towards him. 

he pushes you back down and shushes you. “patience.” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs over your upper thighs. he doesn’t rush taking your shorts off, wanting to savor the feeling of getting to do this for as long as he can. the vision of you in his bed, wet, and impatient, laying before him in your little pink panties is about to make him burst. 

he’s still fully clothed above you and it casts a warm feeling throughout your bare body. you bring your knees close to your tummy, shutting your legs at your sudden shyness. he moves in closer, shaking his head with his palms on your knees. 

he pushes them back down, slipping a hand between your thighs. you gasp, arching your back into him and exhaling with relief when his fingers trace over your clothed clit. “i wanna see you honey,” he careens you gently, coaxing your shyness away. your legs part for him, and he takes full advantage, running the pads of his fingers up and down slowly, feeling the slickness start to bleed through your panties. 

he pushes them to the side, swirling over your clit and feeling proud when you moan into his shoulder. he dips into your little soaked hole, exhaling into your neck at how wet you are. “barely e’n touched you and you’ve already made a mess,” he tsks you lovingly, hints of teasing in his words, and it only excites you more. your stomach and chest get tight at his touches and the way he talks to you, it’s so unreal, and you could honestly cry in this moment from how bad you want to fuck him. 

“i always get like this for you—oh,” you cry out into his shoulder when he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, his digit so long that it easily hits the little spongy spot inside you that you usually struggle to reach. 

“aw sweetpea,” he coos, kissing your forehead while his finger curls inside you. “got you walkin’ around all hot and bothered with no release, i’m sorry,” he kisses your temple, his gentleness contradicting the way he’s fucking you with his finger, grunting under his breath at how tight the fit is when he works in his ring finger. 

you choke on a gasp at the stretch, starting to wonder if his cock will fit if his fingers are already making you feel like this. 

“you gonna make it up to me?” you whimper, still maintaining an air of playfulness in your response. he chuckles, pulling apart ever so slightly to look at you, to watch the way you struggle to stare up at him with his fingers in your cunt. 

“i’ll make it up to you, and then some,” he says, his voice falling low on a raspy curve. you believe him, his response feeling like a promise he intends to keep. 

he’s on you again and you invite it wholly, legs coming around on either side of him go trap him into you. his fingers fuck into that sweet little spot inside you, every single flick of his wrist has your lower back bucking up into his touch. 

his palm hits your clit with every movement, it’s almost cruel, giving you just an inch when you need a mile. you’re running your hands all over him, kissing him messily even when there’s a mix of your saliva dribbling on your chin and air is depleting from your lungs. none of it matters, all that does is consuming as much of joel as humanly possible. 

your fingers struggle to unbutton his flannel once more, shaking and trembling too much to do it as ladylike as you wish you could but he doesn’t mind, it makes his cock twitch knowing he’s the reason why you can’t stay still. 

“feels so good joel,” you whimper, fucking yourself onto his fingers when you finally undo all the pesky buttons on his flannel. he kisses your cheek, his beard tickling your skin while you slide your hands underneath his wife beater. 

“good honey, s’all i wanna do,” he curls his finger right there, drinking in your cries with his lips clamped over yours. your nails drag down his chest and he winces above you, your lips still brushing together. “sh-shit m’so so sorry joel,” you remedy the scratches with gentle caresses but he shakes his head, kissing your chin. “no no s’alright baby—kinda liked it,” he chuckles, thumbing over your clit, precum starting to leak through his boxers at the way you keen into him at the little action. you giggle at his response, raking your nails softly down his chest, fingers suddenly halting only to begin trembling when he picks up the pace inside you. 

“want more joel, i—fuck,” you’re panting, arching up into him, the saturation of the room is getting dimmer and glittery, it’s hard to keep your eyes open and the pounding in your chest and cunt is nearly blinding you. “need more of you, please? please god i’ll do anything,” your desperation is loud and clear and you couldn’t care less. he can feel it, can feel you gripping his fingers, squeezing him so good and he certainly hears how ready you are for him; he revels in the slick clicking sound eliciting from between your legs because of, again, him. 

he swipes the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and he shushes you, kissing you wherever your tears appeared, rubbing that little spot inside of you soothingly. 

you hum in pleasure, hands traveling up to his shoulders. “don’t need to cry honey, i’ll give i’to you,” his promises fan out over your lips, slipping his fingers out of you. 

the loss of his fingers inside you feels cruel, you feel clingy, all you want is joel near you, around you, on you, and in you. 

the sound of his hands undoing his belt hangs in the air, quiet and low breaths of desperation flicker from out your lips while you watch him pull himself out of his jeans. his cock, fat and heavy, and twitching, falls with heft on your lower tummy, resting with impatience on your skin. 

you whimper, hand nervously wrapping around it, your fingers barely able to cover the thick circumference of it. “you’re huge,” you choke, unintentionally adding fuel into his ego and he chuckles, shaking his head when he kisses you. 

“you’re flatterin’ me,” he murmurs against your lips, wrapping a hand around himself, guiding his tip to circle around your clit. you gasp, curling upwards into him, your forehead resting on his broad shoulder. you kiss his bare skin, the comfort of his skin to yours soothes you while he slides his cock up and down your folds. 

“oh—ooh,” you suck in a big breath, hands flying to his forearms to hold onto when he starts to push in, his tip inching into you feels just as big as it looks. “shit,” you whimper at the burn that follows along with the stretch that he pushes into you and he pauses with concern. he hovers above you like a gracious adonis and it almost makes you forget the twinge of pain between your thighs. 

“you need me to stop?” he asks, his words of gentleness cradling you and you shake your head, running your palms down his chest. “no, please keep going, i can take it,” you nod as further emphasis, pushing your hips up, aching to feel more of him. 

he brings his lips to your’s again, sighing when he feels your little moan escape into his mouth. his cock rocks into you at a steady pace, unintentionally pushing you further up into his bed, and he holds onto you tighter, not wanting you to move an inch away from him. 

“haven’t felt like—shit,” he shudders something like a whimper against your lips, and you have to hold back a moan at the sound. “ha-haven’t felt like this in so long honey,” he swallows hard, caressing the side of your face. “haven’t thought about someone like this in years’,” he groans, pushing his cock in deeper. 

your clit pulses at the way he speaks to you, the way he fucks you. “had to fuckin’ jerk off like i was a teenager again after you’d leave—y’have no idea what the hell you’ve been doin’ to me honey,” he messily kisses you between each word, his thrusts growing heavy and rough inside you, the fat head of his cock prodding perfectly into the spongy little spot inside of you. 

“should’ve told me sooner joel,” you whine, bucking your hips to feel more of his cock. “touched myself every night thinking of you,” you whimper out, eyes falling shut when you feel his lower half brush against your clit. he pushed in especially deep at your confession, and you gasp, holding onto him tighter. 

“joel—fuck, sl-slow down, it’s so much,” you cry, barely able to hold onto him while he starts to pound into you, like he’s lost the reins and his body is in control now, an energy and stamina he hasn’t had since he was in his 20’s was back in full force and it all went into fucking you stupid. 

“m’sorry honey—you just, ohfuck, feel so good an the things you’re sayin’ i just—fuck i can’t help it,” he breathes out, pressing a chaste kiss to your bitten lips. “just take it for me baby,” he groans, his hands squeezing your tits before traveling down to your hips. 

his head hangs low while he splits you open on his cock, struggling to keep his eyes from shutting, but he forces them open to watch the way his cock stretches you wide. “you’re so big,” you whine, teeth coming down to sink into the heft of his shoulder. he groans in your neck, sending you a particularly hard thrust. 

the scent of cigarettes wafts around you the more he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips nip at your skin and you whimper into his shoulder at the thought of you going home smelling like him. 

his calloused hands mold to the shape of your body no matter where they travel, forming perfectly around you to hold onto you as tight as he can. 

silence falls between you two, the only communication occurring is the shared grunts and groans that slip into each other’s open mouths. his forehead rests on yours, occasionally moving to your collarbone or ducking down to graze his teeth across your breasts, tongue darting out to wetten your nipples. 

the sound of your soaked cunt getting fucked is near obnoxious—it’s loud, and you pray that the windows in his bedroom are shut, because there’s no doubt that if they aren’t, his neighbors will hear everything. 

your legs shakily hang off his lower back, pushing him in deeper and deeper. 

his thrusts start to slow in pace, and each drag of his cock inside you feels hypnotic, feels amazing, and he groans the same sentiments in your ear, kissing the skin behind it. “m’sorry,” his hips pause to a halt and you panic for a second, wondering if you somehow did something wrong. “everything okay?” you ask softly, clearing the hair away from his eyes. he nods, avoiding eye contact embarrassedly. “my back—startin to cramp up on me,” he mutters, pulling out of you and you hold back a sound of disappointment from the lack of weight on top of you. 

he sits up, back facing away from you, head in his hands. “i’m sorry honey,” he apologizes, still not looking at you. you frown, shuffling on your knees towards him. you hold him from behind, kissing the side of his neck. 

“don’t be.” you murmur, moving around in front of him now. you push at his chest gently, clambering on top of him. his eyes widen, a grin slowly spreading across his lips while his hands rest on your thighs. “what’re you doin?” he asks under a raspy breath, his cock twitching underneath you with excitement. 

you hold his shaft, realigning him with your eager hole, leaning down to press a kiss before you speak. “i’m taking over.” is all you say as you sink down on his cock, wincing at the intrusion. 

his eyes roll back and his head falls into the pillow, his hands starting to grip your hips. “baby,” he moans to himself, his cheeks growing hot. you have to inch him in at a cautious pace but he doesn’t mind, your tight warmth is something he welcomed wholeheartedly. 

you start to grind your hips experimentally, hoping it feels good for him. you honestly have no idea what you’re doing. you’ve only had sex once but you don’t know if it even really counts. 

if a guy putting it in then pulling out because he came too fast counted then, sure you’ve had sex. 

however all of this; it’s different with joel, that was a boy, and now you’ve got a man’s cock buried in your pussy. and you want to make him feel like one, you don’t want him to feel ashamed about his age or anything like that. you’ll make him forget about everything. 

you shudder a breathy moan at the new position, resting your hands on his broad chest, admiring the beautiful man that rests under you. “tell me what makes you feel good joel,” you murmur, head falling towards him, making direct eye contact with him. he swallows hard, his cock aching at how fucking hot you are. 

“shit baby, just use me how you want, use my cock honey.” he groans, licking his fingers and bringing it to your clit. you whine, almost toppling over on top of him at the contact, but you hold yourself up, determined to make both yourself and joel feel good. 

you grab his hands, unclamping them from the grip that rested around your hips and instead dragging them up your sides and onto your breasts, silently telling him to squeeze as much as he pleases. 

and that he does. 

he squeezes them, bucking his hips upwards into yours as he watches the way your flesh fills the gaps between his fingers. you rise and fall onto his cock, bouncing on it with a rhythm that hits every sensitive spot inside of you. 

you look down to where you meet, sucking in your bottom lip at the sight of him disappearing inside of you each time you lower yourself onto him. you rock back and forth, whimpering at how deep he can reach in you. you watch the way he swirls his fingers over your clit, touching you better than you could ever do on your own time. 

“c’mere honey,” he groans for you, and you obey, bending down to rest on his chest. he stops you before you can fully lay on top of him, holding you just under your ribs. he pulls you into his mouth, sucking over the soft flesh of your chest, tongue licking messily and hungrily all over your breasts. you gasp, arching your back into his mouth. “j-joel,” you moan, struggling to maintain the rhythm you built. 

his teeth tease your nipples and you shiver, your nails digging into his shoulders at the sensation. you bounce on his cock, mind going numb and fuzzy while your senses take over, each thrust feeling like electric in your veins. 

after he’s done sucking bruises into your soft flesh, your hands reconnect once more, and you pin them down beside his head, hovering above him while you ride his cock. 

i love you, almost slips from your lips while you stare at each other, chests rising and falling heavily, mouths parted, tongues darting out to wet your lips with hunger. the words hang in the air without sound, you’re sure of it. 

you grind down onto him as far as you can take him, feeling him nudge your cervix, and you whimper at just how deep he can go inside of you. he takes your moment of weakness as an opportunity to flip you right back to where you all started; underneath him. 

you gape at him, unable to process his quick movements. you’re laying at the foot of the bed now, and he’s grabbing your calves, tugging you closer towards him. he pushes back in and wastes no time in pounding you like nothing happened. he grabs your leg, pushing it up further towards your chest, angling himself in even deeper, pure desire fueling him. “shit baby,” 

he mutters, his hair falling in his eyes as he kisses your jaw. 

he rubs your clit with his thick fingers and you cry out, starting to tremble uncontrollably beneath him. “think m’gonna cum joel, m’so so so close,” you whine, your eyes falling heavy with your impending orgasm. 

“let me have it honey, cmon,” he kisses his encouragement into your cheek, fucking you with determination to make you cum, hard. his fingers never relent on your clit, and you can’t stop the panting that leaves your lips, all you can do is writhe beneath him while he fucks you through your dizzying climax. you moan his name in breathy chants, spasming as your body tries it’s best to ride out the stimulation that joel bombards you with. 

his hips grow messy and sporadic, he’s catching your lips in a hot kiss, tongues clashing and saliva falling to the corners of your mouth. barely taking any time to break apart for air. “m’almost there—where can i…” he trails off breathlessly, unsure of how to ask in a way that a gentleman would ask but you don’t care, you don’t need him to sound like one, not when he’s fucking you as if he’s never heard the word before. 

“inside, y-you can do it inside, please,” you beg with need, curling your legs around his hips and pushing down on his lower back. he shudders, and has a millisecond to want to ask you if you’re sure, but he can’t stop pushing himself inside you, it feels too good, and he’s glad you’re trapping him between your legs, because he never wants to stop. 

“sh-shit, i’m cummin’ honey,” he shakily moans in your mouth, struggling to keep his kiss coherent but the way your spent cunt tightens around him makes him lose all sense. you whimper against his lips, feeling hyper sensitive to each and every touch, but the feeling of him cumming inside you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

he slowly pulls out of you, peppering your face with kisses when you make a sound of discomfort. you two lie in a comfortable silence, trying to catch your breaths. you turn to look at each other, and he smiles at you, leaning over to cup your face in his palm. “you okay?” he murmurs softly, running his thumb across your cheekbone. you nod into his touch, holding the back of his hand with yours. “yeah,” you grin. “you?” 

he chuckles heartily, and nods as well. “yeah. i’m alright,” he sends a playful wink and you can’t believe that it still manages to make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you suppose he’ll always have that effect on you. 

you stare at him for a little longer, testing the waters to see if he’ll stop you as you lift up his arm and scoot closer to him. and when he doesn’t, you smile to yourself while he only pulls you in closer, tightening his arms around you. you can feel his heartbeat against your back, and you’ve never felt more soothed before. 

you trace the veins on his strong arm that cradles you into him, your head resting on his other bicep. you don’t want to disrupt the peacefulness that’s settled upon you both, but you have questions that just might do that. 

“joel?” you ask and he hums a response. “would you ever want to do this again? or not even this but just…like…hangout?” you unknowingly grip onto his arm with nervousness, and hope that he says yes. 

he takes in a breath and you shut your eyes at the impending rejection. “honey,” he starts, and your eyes glisten with tears already. “i don’t know if this is something we should’ve done to begin with—not that i regret it—lord,” he shakes his head, chuckling dryly to himself. “lord knows i don’t regret it. but i don’t know if this is something we could sustain. i want to though, sweetpea trust me that i do,” he tilts your chin towards him, feeling his heart break when he sees your watery eyes looking back at him. 

“oh honey,” he sighs sadly, shifting you around so you can look up at him properly. his arms encase you, his warm hand running up and down your back while he pressed gentle kisses to your forehead. “why?” is all you manage to ask and he shuts his eyes, resting his chin on top of your head. “your dad’ll shoot me down and hang my body in front’of the whole neighborhood if he knew. and sarah? i don’t think she’d take kindly to me datin’ her best friend.” you hate that he makes perfect sense and you hate that you sound childish, that you didn’t even take either of those things into consideration. 

“we don’t have to tell them—at least not now? and we don’t have to be anything serious, i just…i like being around you.” you softly murmur, feeling pathetic as tears line your lashes once again. he thumbs across them, ridding your eyes of their wetness. “i like being around you too,” he returns your sentiments, leaning down to peck you. it feels gentle, domestic, and you can’t imagine going without more of them. 

“i’ll still pick you up after you have class, i still want you to come over for dinner like you usually do, nothin’ has to change and,” he closes his eyes for a beat. “—despite everything i said, i…i don’ know if i could handle not havin’ you around honey, feels like somethin’s missin’ when you’re not around.” he admits, and to himself as well, for the first time. 

you bloom with happiness at his words, surging forward to kiss him. he holds you by the back of your neck, tracing circles into your jaw. you hold his face in your hands, pressing kisses along his cheeks, feeling warm all over and when he laughs. it’s filled with a comforting airiness. 

he holds your wrist, turning to kiss your palm. he plucks your index finger, bringing it to his lips to kiss gently. “got me wrapped around this little thing,” he says just above a whisper, and your heart aches, overflowing with adoration. 

the door suddenly opens downstairs and you both share a look of horror. 

“dad? i’m home!”

[dustedmagazine]

Alan Sparhawk — White Roses, My God (Sub Pop)

Photo by Sophia Photo Co.

Grief can sometimes make you retreat. Familiar comforts can be appealing when the massive weight of it presses down and feels like it will never relent. But what if you’re an artist, needing to express yourself at this particular time in your life, and the ways you are used to doing so are inaccessible reminders of that same anguish? Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker had a life together for decades, and a creative life together as Low for most of that time. After Parker died in 2022, there is simply no option for Sparhawk (who has long been upfront about how he relied on Parker’s ear and sensibility in their work together) to work in the way he was used to. As he’s said in an interview, “I’m trying to use my voice, but I don’t want to hear my voice, so I needed to find another voice.” If the superlative final few Low albums were in part accounts of the duo forging a new vocabulary, White Roses, My God sees Sparhawk trying to do so once again under the most wrenching conditions.

Even though the music here can on first contact seem like a radical break from Sparhawk’s past work, it stems from the domestic and close at hand. Sparhawk has shared that the main tool used to create the vocals here is a TC-Helicon Voicetone C1 pitch correction pedal, one of the devices they got for their kids to play around with. (Yes, the well-known AutoTune software does pitch correction. No, the music here was not made using AutoTune except insofar as the name of the software has become a generic stand-in for pitch correction.) At times he creaks or squawks, mutters or gibbers. Finding several new alien tones to express himself in, Sparhawk also found songs streaming out of his consciousness. The result isn’t completely a one-man show; kids Hollis and Cyrus contributed backing vocals and bass respectively, and Sparhawk co-produced with Nat Harvie. But the result does feel as much like the unfiltered expression of one human being as any solo acoustic singer-songwriter record does.

The synths and drum machines Sparhawk employs often feel deceptively bouncy and bright in tone, although the minute-long lament “Heaven” clearly indicates that if Sparhawk had wanted to aim for the tear ducts throughout these 35 minutes, he could have. Even so, those pieces are assembled in ways that can be foreboding and harsh. Some tracks, like the ebulliently bubbling “I Made This Beat,” lock purely into the joy of creating (in this case partly by repeating the title to the point of pure texture), but most remain gnomically private. The clattering slide that opens “Can U Hear” builds to an almost slow-motion darkwave climax with squalling vocals bouncing around over goth-y synth pads. “Station” feels like gentle synth-pop periodically subsumed by a drone that rises up from beneath it. “Brother” blends in a steady, sparse guitar part from Sparhawk until the whole track lurches in sympathy with his wails.

The result is a record is suffused with grief without ever drowning in it (or, for the most part, addressing it directly in the lyrics even when you can parse them out). White Roses, My God is probably best summed up by “Feel Something”’s arc from pleading “can you feel something here?” to affirming “I think I feel something here” as warmly rounded tones and occasionally gnashing drum programming cycle away. Long term fans wanting to hear more of the Sparhawk they’re used to probably don’t have long to wait; live, he’s been playing one set of this material and another of more conventional, angry/grieving songs with ‘clean’ vocals, and he’s been working on an album with Duluth band Trampled by Turtles backing him. But none of that should overshadow just what a rare and precious thing this is, the sound of a man fighting his way through the stasis of mourning with whatever voice he can find, in whatever forms it finds him.

Ian Mathers

[e-b-reads]

I an constitutionally unable to avoid giving further details:

my middle school librarian gave me a new Terry Pratchett book when it came in b/c she said I was the only one checking out any Terry Pratchett! librarians, take note - I still remember this

for me the no-shower times were b/c of camping trips, but no judgment here! I say embrace the gremlin-ness of being gross, shower when u can.

I am not a virtuoso, I just was willing to try things, so have played regular B-flat clarinet, E-flat clarinet, bass clarinet, contra-alto clarinet (v deep!), etc.

[nevernonline]

hihi! its the anon that requested the 14th member in another gg and performing a sexy concept!! i loved the ones u wrote recently and i was hoping (pls dont feel pressured to do it!!) of u could continue with the rest of the members. ur writing is so nice btw🫶

bubu, hi!! yes, ofc!! it's sort of long bc im insane, but thank u sm. ily. (srry this took so long lmao?) 🖤☘️

svt reactions to member and their gg and their sexy debut concept (cont.):

wonwoo: 

Wonwoo was always somewhat of a protector for you. He took it upon himself to shield you from the bad side of being an idol. Comments, questions, people trying to get in your pants. It’s common for a female idol to be burned in the spotlight, especially when they’re around 13 guys a lot of the time. Between dating rumors, fans' assumptions that you HAD to be hooking up with at least one of them, he always shut it down even before you or the company had the opportunity to do so. The night of your debut showcase the company threw a small album release party, family only which included a lot of the members from various groups between pledis and hybe. Your group's videos and concept were plastered playing on the large LED display, which was catching the eyes of some male company staffers and idols. Wonwoo was sitting across the room from you, watching as people praised your hard work and talent. He didn’t think much of it until someone asked him if they thought you’d give them your cell phone number so they could ask you on a date. He wanted to tell them no for you, but figured you should be able to fight that battle yourself so instead he beat him to it. A text pinged in your phone from Wonwoo telling you to meet him outside on the patio just so he can congratulate you, instead of just asking you out himself. Not just as friends, but much more.

jihoon: 

When your team manager and the ceo sat jihoon down for a conversation, he definitely did not expect to be asked to help produce a song you wrote for your new group's debut ep. He would have done it in a heartbeat even without the company’s executives praising him and ready to bed for his music expertise. He was always willing to work and help out a friend. When the day came and you stepped into his sacred studio space, he was nowhere to be found, you’ve been in the light colored room often, but never alone. You took your time getting comfortable on his couch, playing with your phone while you awaited the arrival of your close friend. When the door alarm buzzed and unlocked, revealing Jihoon and his arms full of snacks and sodas for you both to enjoy.  “Sorry I'm late, I tried to text you but I left my phone in here before stepping out.”  “No worries, Hoonie. Is it just us then?”  “Yeah, everyone’s a little busy today. That’s cool?”  “Obviously. So before we get started should I tell you the concept?”  “That would be helpful, y/n.”  Jihoon was always a jokester especially with you, it was easy to play around with him.  “So, well, okay. It’s basically a song about seducing someone, we’re trying a sexy siren concept.”  Taken a back slightly, Jihoon couldn’t recall ever having to be sexy or seductive in a concept before, even as trainee’s when the company had you do battle of the sexes.  “Do you have some lyrics?”  “Yeah, here.”  ‘Fear not my temptation, but deliver me from the thoughts in my own head. Using my voice, I’ll promise to make these boys wind up dead.’ “So you’re basically using boys as playthings and then killing them, praying mantis style?”  “Basically, yes.”  “Want to hop into the booth and try some stuff?”  Hopping up from his couch and placing the heavy black headphones on your ears, a sultry piano and bass riff played. You sang the lyrics both you and Jihoon were coming up with on the spot, not realizing the way you were swaying under the pink lighting of his booth. Touching your body slightly, getting into the groove of the song.  “Uh, y/n?”  “Yeah?”  “Can you stop moving like that? I mean I like it, but it’s a little distracting.”  “Oh my god, sorry I didn’t even know I was doing that.”  “You’re lucky you’re cute.”  “So the seduction of the song is working, is what you’re saying though?”  “A little too well.” 

seokmin: 

Seokmin was the most supportive friend you could ever ask for. He wasn’t shy to tell you how amazing you did while performing or how beautiful you looked in and out of your stage costumes. When he took his seat next to the rest of the boys in the glass box of the arena for your debut showcase. He wore the merchandise and clung onto the picket with your face on it out of anticipation to actually get the opportunity to watch you perform without him. As soon as the lights went down on the stage, the crowd began cheering your fan chant, he studied their words and joined in himself, forcing the rest of your team to do the same. The pitch black room filled with screams made his heart pound fast. Why was he so nervous? You came into his view, the bright stage lights bouncing off of your glowing frame, he noticed your smile as the song began to play. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, he watched your interactions with the rest of the girls, the fans, and even the sneaky look up to him. He truly felt like your fan girl, singing along with you, dancing the choreography, and shouting your name louder than anybody in the room. The rest of the members tried to get his attention, but he was so intoxicated by watching you that he didn’t hear them. His fixated gaze on you had others watching him watch you. When it was all finally over, Seokmin couldn’t leave his seat for a good five minutes, his heart was beating faster than it should. The guys pulled him backstage to congratulate you. His hands were sweating now, pulling up to your door. Seeing you open it, now in a matching gray sweatsuit, halfway done with taking your makeup off. You hugged the various members and saved Seokmin for last. Whispering in his ear how grateful you were for him. The rest of the guys sat around teasing your biggest fan, laughing at the videos they took as he watched you. You caught a glimpse of his face, a pretend smile clearly embarrassed for the things they were saying.  “Okay, guys I’ll meet you at the restaurant. I’m going to take a shower and I’ll be there soon.”  With various goodbyes and see you laters you tugged Seokmin back into the room.  “Wait. Hold on, mister. You okay?”  “Yes, I’m good. I’ll see you at the restaurant, y/n. Good job.”  “Stop it. I could tell you were embarrassed by them. Why?”  “Not exactly, I guess I should’ve been more careful how I was reacting out there with all your fans. If they have those videos then someone else does too. I’m sorry.”  “Why are you sorry? Those are the sweetest videos ever. You looked so happy, Seok.”  “I feel like I embarrassed you or something.”  “You? You could never embarrass me. I love you. Wait here? Come to the restaurant with me.”  “ I’ll wait for you always.”  “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”  And with a peck on Seokmin cheek, you both spent the night reading all the comments about how sweet his support for you was. 

mingyu: 

Mingyu got the opportunity to be a special MC for the week of your group's new debut, meaning he would get many opportunities to see you and your friends in action on stage and interview you during the broadcast. When the time finally came and you were waiting for your interview he was prompted by the producer to take the side of the interview stage next to you, simply because fans would love it. Watching you parade onto the stage in your small denim shorts and corset top adorned with black ribbons and lace, made Mingyu’s heart swell. The way your newly blonde hair cascaded down your exploded back was distracting him from his duties as host, just up until the slate came into his view.  “Hello, everyone, welcome back we’re here celebrating a new debut today, please welcome Spice. Hello hello.”  Claps rung through the studio as your eyes linger on Mingyu’s exposed fangs.  “Mingyu, what is it like seeing y/n up here with a group other than Seventeen? Jealousy? Happiness?”  Jungwoo’s comments made the rest of your team giggle, watching the over six foot man still tower over you while you stood on the riser next to him.  “Jealousy, for sure”  “And y/n or the rest of spice how do you girls feel having a self proclaimed kpop fossil in your midst, how are you dealing with her ex-members? Are they in your business all the time? Do they offer advice?”  “Well, I know Mingyu’s lying when he says he’s jealous. He actually texted me last night and told me he was proud of me and excited I’m out of his hair now.”  Your members agreed with you, stating they saw the text too while you were all preparing for your showcase.  “That’s not true. The pride was, but we miss having y/n around to keep us in check.”  “Okay, Spice members, we wanted a sneak peak of your debut stage for your song ‘Red Lips’ which one of you would like to give us a little tutorial on the choreography and an intro to the song?”  Unanimously your members chose their leader, you to give the two boys a sneak preview of your new track.  “Spice’s famous leader y/n, let’s go. Music Queue.”  You began the point dance by squatting, tracking your movements with your hands up your body, before spinning your frame around so your back was facing the camera with your hurt in full display. When the clip ended Mingyu put his large frame in front of you so the camera couldn’t hold the shot too long, protecting the last of the innocence you once had when he met you.  When your interview was finally over you and Mingyu ended it with a tight hug where he picked you up off your feet  that was caught on camera.  Safe to say the internet shippers went wild for a long time after that.

minghao: 

Minghao was doing an interview for a fashion magazine alongside the other 97’ members where they were being asked about some of their favorite things. Mingyu brought up your group's new song ‘Pure’ and Seokmin brought up how beautiful the music video was, both of them talking over each other about how fun the song is, and how it makes them feel excited when they work out. Minghao was just sitting nodding along, non-verbally agreeing that your group had some of the best new music in the industry and that you’ll be the next breakout idol group. The interviewer then asked other than the newest song by you, which song was their favorite, just keeping the conversation going. Mingyu still answered ‘Pure,’ Seokmin said it was the ballad of your album called ‘Skeletons.’ And Minghao said your first title track, ‘All Over.’ Which was actually banned in many schools for being too addictive, mainly due to the content of the video or maybe the explicit lyrics. When he was asked to elaborate he just simply said that he loves when people feel confident enough in themselves to do whatever they want. The clip was circling the internet, making silly jokes about how maybe Minghao sits around, watching you do scandalous moments for his own pleasure. Which was far from the truth, but he didn’t mind. Getting the opportunity to perform at the same time as you on a music show meant he would get to see the song live for the first time. He watched your group parade around the stage in small skirts and button down tops, imagining himself doing the partner choreography with you instead of the dancer you got assigned. When it was finished you came off the stage, right into his view.  “Better in person?”  “Maybe. I don’t think you're very into your dance partner though, no chemistry.”  “Really? He’s cool and not bad on the eyes, but yeah he’s not very interesting. Kind of a wet blanket actually.”  “A wet blanket?”  “Yeah, you know no substance. Soggy, whatever.”  “Maybe you should ask to swap to someone else?”  “No, it’s alright. He did try to ask me out at practice the other day though, literally in the exact moment we were doing that wild floor part, not really the best moment to ask someone out when they’re on top of you. But, go off.”  “He asked you out?”  “Yes..”  “Why? What the hell. That’s unprofessional.”  “It’s okay, Hao. I told him no.”  “You really should get a new partner.”  “Like who?”  “Me. I can think of lots of other stuff to ask you if you’re on top of me.”  “Oh my god.”  “Wait, that came out so wrong. Not what I meant.”  “Are you sure? I was a little excited.”  “Oh. Well in that case, meet me later in the practice studio. Let’s try it out.”  “You’ve got yourself a deal, partner.” 

seungkwan: 

After watching your debut, Seungkwan was wildly proud and supportive. He’s watched your confidence grow an exceptional amount alongside him. The praise from the fans felt like it was for him a little bit too, not in a selfish way but just because you blossomed into adults together. A few of the idols from your company got asked to be a part of a reality show about a day in the life of an idol, you and seungkwan both agreed knowing it would be fun to do together, especially since you haven’t had many opportunities to interact due to your busy schedules. For promotions of the new season you were paired together for interviews with various magazines and online programs. In the interview with Marie Claire the journalist had you play a game of truth or drink where you sat facing each other and the table between you had stacks of questions. You both were doing well, laughing, getting slightly buzzed on the shots of tequila that were provided until Seungkwan pulled a truth question, trying to buy himself a chance to skip a drinking turn. “What would you do if another idol was making a pass at the other player in front of you? How would you react?”  “What kind of question is that? Drink, Kwan” “Can I pick another one?”  You and Seungkwan were giggling and laughing over the prospect of someone making a pass at one of you in front of the other, the PA prompted him to either answer or move on, he wasn’t able to pick another option.  “Ok, I’m going to drink.”  “Ah, come on. Now I’m curious.”  “I’ll tell you later.”  Seungkwan and you finished up the last of your interviews and headed into the black suv parked outside of the studio.  “So tell me now about that question.”  “It’s just weird to think about anybody asking you out, I mean I know some have tried, but you’ve always turned it down. If someone did it in front of me? Damn. I’d probably laugh in their face first of all, which is rude I know. After that I’d probably yell at them how disinterested you would be.”  “But, what if it’s someone I’m interested in?”  “Please, who are you interested in, you've never said anything before?”  “You.”  “No way. Stop fucking around, y/n.”  “I’m serious. Deadly actually. I’ve always had a crush on you, why would any sane single person turn down half of these guys that are asking me out unless they’re interested in someone else.”  “You’re sane?”  “Shut up. I’m being serious. Stop being an ass, I’ll cry.”  “Then if I send your manager a card asking for permission to date you, will you accept it?”  “Why not just ask me yourself?”  “I’m a traditionalist.”  “Then you’ll just have to see what she says when you do.” 

vernon: 

Naturally Vernon wasn’t a jealous guy, he was just some dude that couldn't care less what other people were up to. He was so excited when he heard that you’d be debuting with new girls at the company, proud that they chose you to lead them with all of your experiences alongside him and the other members of your group. You and Vernon always had a special bond being the same age, having similar stories of how you became an idol, he appreciated having someone around who could understand him only through body language as did you. He came to surprise you and your new team on the day of your debut, carrying coffees, helping the staffers with luggage’s, bandaids, holding the hair and makeup team's bags. He really just wanted to show you he cared and was excited that you were moving on to bigger and better experiences in this industry. Vernon was never one to ask too many in depth questions about concepts and costumes, he knew the company would take care of you and he didn’t want to spoil the surprise for himself. As you were getting ready to take the stage, your manager asked him if he wanted to take a seat with them backstage and watch the view from the side. He told them no, mainly because he didn’t want to be a distraction and also everybody knows the side view is never exciting to see for the first time. As the team filtered out of your holding room Vernon took his place on the leather couch, watching your unit get into their positions. He never noticed your outfit until now, a black leather jacket, tight white tank top, and a pair of tight leather shorts with garters attached running the length of your bare legs all the way down to your chunky loafers. It’s not that he never thought you were beautiful before, but something changed now. He decided to open his Twitter app, seeing what people were saying about your group as you continued your performance. Vernon wished he hadn’t seen the comments about you made by men over half your age about what they’d like to do to you after seeing your bare legs. Suddenly he realized he wasn’t the only one gunning to be with you, but he was the only one who stood a chance. 

chan: 

Chan always made you feel special, when he heard your group's new song it gave him an idea to beg your production team for a cut so he could create a Danceology as a surprise. Something big and dramatic to make you feel good and maybe a little to impress you. He enlisted the help of his friends Yeonjun and Changbin to make it extra fun for his fans to see three well liked idols performing a sexy girl group choreography made by him. The day came where it was about to be uploaded, so he arranged a small get together with the two of you to watch it’s release on YouTube, you weren’t sure why he asked you to come hangout with his friends and do a weverse live with him, but you never missed a chance to see him especially now with your busy schedules.  “Hello guys. So we’re doing this very special live for y/n actually. I have a surprise.” “A surprise? It’s not my birthday, channie.”  “Doesn’t matter. I may or may not have made a very special danceology episode for you.”  “What the fuck, oh sorry. What? Why did you do that?”  “Because I wanted to, the reason we’re here on live with everyone is to watch it before it goes up and you can see it before they do. Sorry everyone.”  “Okay, yes. Thank you, show me, show me, show me.”  “Alright, y/n may I present to you a special danceology to Spice’s ‘Pitch Black.”  The pair of you both clapped your hands as your manager pressed play revealing Chan, Changbin, and Yeonjun wearing black tank tops and different shades of ripped jeans, a match from the music video your group had just released.  “Oh my god. This is insane.”  Chan didn’t say anything back, but just kept watching you watching his gift for you, until he noticed your eyes click to one of the other three in the trio. A gut feeling had him knowing that your attention wasn’t only on him, but he shoved it down until the fade out of the song came on.  “Wow. You guys killed that shit. Yeonjun and Changbin thank you guys too, it was amazing. Thank you.”  “You liked?”  “Chan, it was so good. That part where Yeonjun came into the front and did the hip swivel thing? Iconic.”  “What about me?”  You ruffled his hair, laughing confused why he was so serious after you made the comment about his tall friend.  “You looked very cute.”  “Cute? That’s it.”  Aware you were still broadcasting live, you pulled your phone out to text Chan and remind him of it, he told the fans that you guys will come back after going out for some dinner to talk more and reminding them to watch the video before you go live again before saying goodbye.  “What was that, y/n?”  “What? It was amazing, I told you? Did I say something wrong?”  “It’s nothing, just nevermind. Let’s go get some food.”  “No come on, no angry eating. What’s wrong?”  “Just, I guess I’m jealous. I did all of that for you and you were stuck watching my friend. I’m sorry.”  “Because I complimented him on one part over you? That doesn’t mean anything, you were so good. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the entire time aside from that. You were amazing.”  “Yeah, emphasis on cute huh?”  “If I tell you how sexy you look, will you stop pouting and buy me dinner?”  His award winning smile crept onto his lips.  “Only if you tell me ten more times.” 

[qu0kkarambles]

Day 9 - Lee Chan

Authors note - day 9! This was supposed to be day 8 but I didn’t finish it in time sooo day 9 it is! As always I hope you enjoy and please comment or ask any questions or feedback.

Warnings - smut (minors dni), mirror sex, semi public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, praise, sweat.

The doors were heavy as you trailed through the hybe corridors, arms laden down with heavy bags. You had stocked yourself up with drinks, snacks and other food before heading to the practise room, knowing it was the best way to make sure you would be allowed to stay.

They had been practising long hours, your time with your boyfriend suffering because of it, but today was the last scheduled day of practises for a week, and so you decided to pay them a visit.

You could hear the deep bass through the walls before even opening the door, the music blaring from speakers all over the room. You entered quietly, watching as your boyfriend critiqued his members, pointing out small details that had been missed. He had a knack for noticing the small things- most people wouldn’t notice the mistakes, but to Dino they stood out like a sore thumb.

They needed perfection, and so that is what they would have. The hours and hours of practise would all be for nothing if they made big mistakes while performing, and they all knew this.

As he caught sight of you in the mirror, his firm gaze turned softer, immediately heading in your direction. He grabbed the bags from your hands, passing them on to whoever was closest as he pulled you in for a hug.

‘Hey baby. What are you doing here?’ He asked, surprised to see you. The other members helped themselves to the various treats within the bags, a small chorus of thank yous ringing out from behind Dino.

‘I wanted to see you, I’ve missed you’ you said, a small pout on your lips as you played with the bottom hem of his top.

‘We’re almost done here but I’ve gotta stay late - I’ve got a new danceology choreography I’ve been working on and they want to film next week I need to work on some details.’ He rambled on, running his hands through his hair as he spoke.

‘Babe, it’s fine. I can go if you want or I can stay and keep you company? Entirely up to you.’

‘Keep me company. Please?’ His lips were soft as he kissed you, a gentle peck before running back to his members, ready to run through their choreography one more time.

You took a seat in front of the mirrors, watching as they worked through the routine, in awe at their movements and synchronicity as they moved. By the end of the song, they were all swearing, reaching for the drinks you had bought them and gathering their things, more than ready to leave.

‘Chan-ah, you’re staying behind right?’ Seungcheol asked, rounding up the rest of the members.

‘Yeah I won’t be too long though. And y/n is keeping me company’ he said with a smile, a small wink thrown in your direction. As the other boys left, Dino queued the music on the speakers, running through his choreography a few times as a refresher before hitting play. You watched him, following his body lines with your eyes as you admired his movements.

He was an incredible dancer, and you were once again awed by his talent and skill. He ran through the choreography multiple times, editing small details with every practise. Soon enough, his top was sheer with sweat, his breathing ragged.

You stood as he grabbed a water break, walking up behind him, your hands on his waist as he stood. You lifted his shirt slightly, running your fingers over his toned back as you leaned on him.

‘You’re doing so well baby. You’re so talented’ you said, kissing gently between his shoulder blades as his eyes met yours in the reflection of the mirrors. You took a step back as he spun around to stand before you, your hands pulled away from the fabric of his top as he lifted it over his head. You were slightly shocked, and on instinct turned your head around the room, scared someone might see.

‘It’s fine princess, it’s only us here’ he said, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you close. His lips met yours, his kiss soft but firm, his hands trailing over your body as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. His tongue explored your mouth, pulling whines from your throat as he broke your kiss.

‘Come on’ he said, pulling your hand in his as he walked toward the mirrors. He positioned you, stood perfectly before the mirrors, your back to his chest as he kissed along your neck, his fingers teasing at your waist. ‘Look how perfect you are y/n’ he said, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. You tried to look away, his fingers quickly finding your jaw to hold your gaze on the mirrors.

‘Don’t look away. Not even for a second’ he said, quickly pulling your clothes from your body. You felt exposed, the vast space of the practise room making your hairs stand on end. Yet you loved the goosebumps that appeared on your arms, loved the thrill of being so exposed.

You watched in the mirror as your boyfriend kissed along your body, worshipping every inch of skin as he moved further and further down. Soon, his hands were on your core, his fingers slipping easily inside as he felt how turned on you were. It was incredible how much you were affected by him, especially here, now.

You moaned quietly, eyes meeting his in the mirror as he added another finger, slowly working you open as you stood, bared for him.

‘That’s it baby’

‘So fucking beautiful’

His praise was endless, filling your head as your knees grew weak. Your hands grasped onto any bit of Dino you could reach, your firm grip and moans the only warning he got before you came undone before him. Your legs were shaking, his grip on you the only thing keeping you upright.

He kissed along your body once more, trailing his kisses up your body as he whispered praises to you, finally reaching your neck. His hands were firm on your hips, pulling your ass back slightly as he liked himself up with your entrance.

His moans in your ear had your knees weakening once again, leaning yourself forward to rest your hands on the mirror infront of you as he began to chase his high. His movements were deep, and fast, steadily chasing his pace but not quite frantic yet. His hands trailed through your hair, tugging it back to watch you in the mirror. The two of you watched as your body’s met, mesmerised by the sight.

His praises flooded the room as he he reached his high, his arms tight around you as he filled you up.

‘Fuck y/n.’

You watched in the mirror as you each caught your breath, Dino pulling away from you as he moved to grab some tissues. The room smelt of sweat and sex, and you were lucky no one else would be in this room for a few days.

[oncamelliastreet]

how would u recommend getting into 5sos?? i have friends who think i'll like them but it feels like a daunting task

OOO OO OOOOO

okay A) do it, they’re the best band ever and literally so funny you’ll die and luke hemmings is the loml so like you need to

B) the way i did it was i just listened to their first album and worked from there, but if we’re being extremely honest here their first album is hardly anyone’s favorite and that’s for a reason, so if you’re gonna listen to an album first i’d say either work from the beginning because you’ll here their growth more, or their 4th album CALM is really good and it’s only like 12 songs plus a bonus track and it’s a really good intro to them, or youngblood is my fav album by them so i’d definitely throw that your way

C) if you don’t want to listen to an album first and just want to get a feel, here are my fav songs by them

- take my hand (joshua tree version) ((ashton, the drummer, has said that this is the song he would want to define their band))

- lie to me (NOT the version featuring julia michaels) (this one comes with an extremely sad music video which i would be glad to describe to you in depth

- bad omens (literally one of their best songs)

- teeth

- no shame

- jet black heart (this one is really personal to their guitarist michael and they’ve said that they’re never removing it from their set list because it’s just too good which is amazing news because this song live is CATHARTIC)

- outer space/carry on (don’t be confused by the random silence in the middle it’s the rain in outer space if you listen closely, also i listen to this one every new year’s eve because it’s very hopeful and comforting)

- older (luke hemmings ft. his wife basically but it’s literally the most beautiful depressing love song and they randomly released it one day so i was crying at the bank after school when it first came out)

- not in the same way (THEIR BEST BRIDGE)

- out of my limit

- gotta get out (the first song they wrote and it fucking slaps dude)

also for some background info: they started out as a pop rock-ish band and luke hemmings is their lead singer, but they all sing and play instruments.

luke hemmings - lead singer, rhythm guitar (but he can also fucking shred because he’s made of angel dust)

calum hood - bass, background vocals mostly (he sings the entirety of wildflower & babylon and has mixed verses here and there throughout all their albums)

michael clifford - lead guitar, background vocals (he also has mixed verses here and there and sings the entirety of emotions)

ashton irwin - drums (and a beast at them) and background vocals (he had verses here and there too but not as common)

if you listen to a song, for example, Teeth, and you pause and think wait, there’s no way that’s the same guy singing because the vocals go so high and they were so deep before, that’s not possible, ITS LUKE!!! HE HAS THE MOST AMAZING RANGE OF ANY MALE ARTIST ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET AND CAN AND WILL SING AS HIGH OR AS LOW AS HE WANTS BECAUSE HE IS AN ICON

and if you wanna get to know their personalities first, carpool karabloke was the first video i watched of them (their australian hence karabloke) and it’s literally just them fucking around in the car listening to their album CALM (side note, that albums is there names —calum, ashton, luke, michael—because if there’s one thing they love, it’s naming an album after themselves. see: 5 seconds of summer, livesos, CALM, 5sos5)

and one more thing, if you listen to them and don’t really fuck with them (you would be wrong, by the way, listen again) then two of their members have solo works!! ashton had two albums: blood on the drums and superbloom, and luke has an album: when facing the things we turn away from (this one i could really talk about for hours because it’s my favorite album of all time) and a long ep called “boy” which is also amazing, so i would check those out

okay sorry i totally just infodumped on you because i have so much 5sos info in my brain and nobody to share it with YAYAYAY so if you ever want like a super in depth breakdown of like one of their music videos or their history feel free to ask me about it because i would loooove to talk about this for hours

also you’ll have to wait a sec for your flower because my sister literally told me she got engaged in the middle of me writing this so i got distracted 😭