#I made sure to turn off my Broadway playlist from affecting my wrap and it mostly did but it’s still there

[novacorpsrecruit]

I’m never beating the theater kid allegations

Send an ask with a number 1-100 for a song from my Spotify wrapped!

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Agape - Chapter Two

A Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader fic

Rating: 18+

Chapter Two

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, References to throwing up, Masturbation (f)

Word Count: 1790

A/N: The second half of this fic may be entirely based on my night the other night. Who’s to say.

Normally you spent the weeks leading up to a new project by yourself, studying anything you needed to study, watching footage of performances that would serve as inspiration, and taking the time to center yourself before spending weeks portraying someone else. But this time you found yourself cleaning your house and cooking as you prepped for company. You cursed under your breath as your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. You snoozed the timer you had set, realizing you now only had about thirty minutes until people were due to arrive.

This was all Joe’s fault. You’re not sure why you gave in so easily to his pouting about the dumb meatballs. Although you did have to admit, you were looking forward to spending time with him outside of work again. Before your chemistry read with him, you hadn’t seen him in months. You did enjoy his company, and his chaotic nature usually led to some funny stories to tell later.

You checked on the food, the meatballs now continuing to cook in your homemade tomato sauce. You took a big whiff, inhaling the amazing scent. You took a lot of pride in your family’s recipe, and you always made sure to honor every step, down to the teaspoon. You turned the heat down low, allowing the meatballs and sauce to continue to stay warm until the guests arrived.

You weren’t expecting too many people. Joe was obviously attending, along with Aaron and their other friend Manny. You had invited Leah, as well as another castmate Briana, hoping to balance out the level of testosterone in the house. Briana had cancelled last minute, but luckily Leah planned on coming.

About twenty minutes later, your doorbell rang. You opened the door to reveal the three young males, each carrying a six-pack of beer. You leaned to the side of the door frame.

“You guys get a group rate or something?” you quipped before moving to allow the men to enter your house. Leah arrived a few moments later, holding a bottle of wine.

Drinks were poured, food was served, and laughs were had. As much as you had originally wanted to be alone prepping for production to start, you had to admit that you were enjoying your time. You found yourself feeling relaxed almost immediately, especially in the presence of such good company. After finishing dinner, the group spread out amongst the living room, with you finding a seat in the middle of the couch, sandwiched between Joe and Aaron. Stories were shared, from the boys talking about antics while filming Undrafted to you talking about drunken shenanigans from you and Aaron’s theatre days.

“So he’s holding on to my hair, drink in his hand while I puke up everything in my body--”

“I was like, ‘you do you, girl’,” Aaron adds, opening another beer.

“And once I was done I apparently stood up, struck a pose, and walked out of the bathroom and just continued dancing.” The group erupted in laughter at the story.

“She looked like a gymnast who just landed a flip. It was incredible,” Aaron continued, recreating the pose himself.

“I wish I remembered more of that night. It was insane,” you said, leaning back in your seat.

“Broadway parties sound like so much fun. Maybe I should rethink this whole LA thing,” Leah replied before taking a sip of wine.

“Oh yeah, it’s great...if you want to do more work and make less money,” you replied with a sigh. “But I do miss it sometimes.”

“All I know is that I’m looking forward to experiencing you drunk during our wrap party,” Joe inserted. You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“I see right through you, Mazzello. You’re determined to get me to sing karaoke with you and it’s not going to happen,” you said, poking Joe in the chest.

“We shall see,” he responded, taking a sip of his beer.

As the night started to wind down, you excused yourself to the kitchen to get a head start on cleaning up. You were sealing a tupperware container of leftovers when you sensed someone enter the kitchen behind you. You had a feeling you knew who it was, and you turned around to find your suspicions were correct.

“If I help you clean up, can I go home with some of those leftovers?” Joe asked, arms folded across his chest while standing in the door frame. You laughed, shook your head, and turned to reveal a second tupperware container before handing it to him.

“I had a feeling you’d want some. No helping required,” you said before turning back to the messy counter.

“Well too bad, I’m going to help you anyway. It’s the least I can do since I basically forced you to make these for me,” Joe countered as he set the container down and picked up a dirty dish. You smiled and decided not to put up a fight, and the two of you washed the remainder of the dishes in comfortable silence while the rest of your guests conversed in the other room.

After another hour of chatting, your guests decided to call it a night. You said exchanged goodbye hugs with each of them, thanking them for coming and while they thanked you for the hospitality.

Since you had gotten most of the cleaning done while your guests were still there, you didn’t have much to do besides settle in for the night. You elected to take a nice relaxing bath before bed, deciding to use one of the bath bombs you had picked up a few weeks back.

After turning on the water to start filling the tub, you got to work on making the scene even more relaxing. You lit a few candles around your bathroom and threw together a quick playlist of calming music. You grabbed a final glass of wine before shedding your clothes and heading into the bathroom.

Once the tub was full, you tossed your bath bomb in, let it fizzle a little, and climbed into the warm tub. The heat of the water immediately felt amazing and relaxed you almost instantly. As you sank into the tub, you let out a long sigh and got comfortable.

You sat in the tub for a good fifteen minutes, slowly sipping wine and enjoying the atmosphere around you. The music, the aromas, and the soft lighting were the perfect end to a good day.

You slid your hands down your thighs to feel the softness that the ingredients of the bath bomb were creating, and the touch got you a bit excited. To be fair, it had been a little while for you, so you were a little sensitive. You had broken up with your most recent ex a few months ago and had been on a dry spell since. You figured now, while you were settling down for the night, was as good a time as any to take care of yourself.

You worked your hand down to your crotch and gently ran your fingers over your slit. You started to draw little gentle circles around the area, taking it slow as you decided what to think about. You drifted up towards your clit and the first touch caused you to almost shiver; you were obviously very sensitive. It must have been awhile since you touched yourself, too. You began to stroke your clit a little harder while you closed your eyes and let your head fall back. You started to try to picture someone taking care of this for you. You got a little bit faster and harder with your rubs, starting to feel that familiar sensation building in your core. You pictured long fingers between your legs, touching you just how you liked it. You thought about someone’s lips along your neck and their skin on your skin. You thought about them whispering in your ear, their breath hot against the sensitive skin.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Oh, Joe,” you moaned out loud. Suddenly the smoke cleared and your redheaded co-star’s face filled your head. Your touch got faster and harder while you chased your pleasure, your mind imagining one person and one person only: Joseph Mazzello. You wondered how his lips would feel on yours. You thought about running your hands through his hair, yanking on it while he brought you closer to the edge. You imagined him plunging a finger inside of you and crooking it just the right way as he rubbed your clit mercilessly.

And suddenly you were coming against your own hand, hips bucking as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

Once you finally were able to catch your breath, reality smacked you in the face. Did you just masturbate to Joe Mazzello?

“Well shit,” you said out loud.

You didn’t spend much longer in the tub. You were too lost in your thoughts to appreciate the calmness of the room anymore. You dried off, blew out the candles, turned off the music, and opened the tub drain.

Towel wrapped around your body, you downed the rest of your glass of wine, your mind racing. Between how he made you blush the other day, how you gave in to his meatball request so easily, and your session just moments ago, it was safe to say you were starting to develop a crush.

You sighed to yourself. Predictable. You always developed crushes on your co-stars. What was it about actors in Hollywood that made you go weak in the knees so quickly? It happened every time. Part of it was definitely your attraction to talent; seeing someone perform art in any form was a huge turn on for you. But you were so tired of this.

Especially since in recent years it had affected your image. Your last four relationships were with people you met working on projects. After your last break-up, you saw several tabloids splashing your name and picture across their covers. “Another day, another break up with a co-star,” they wrote. You had tried not to let it get to you. But you saw how bad Taylor Swift was always treated when she jumped from relationship to relationship. You hated being seen in that light too. You hated that people were more focused on your social life than the work you were doing.

As you settled into bed, you tried to turn your attention to literally anything else. But your mind kept going back to Joe. His dumb smile. His dumb laugh. His dumb face. Ugh. You’ve always acknowledged the fact that he was attractive. But now you were seeing things you hadn’t seen before.

This project was going to be even more challenging than you thought.