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shellshocklove · 1 year ago

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i wanna be your lover | joel miller

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

summary: miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, swearing, misogyny (bc of the times™), accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes (it’s the 70s alright), mentions of a bad previous sexual encounter and losing your virginity, use of pet names, porn (obviously lmao), sextoys, only one bed, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: i had fun with this one, but it turned out to be longer than i first intended. i hope people will like it still! also big thank you to @dustydaddyyy, for proofreading this

main masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

Under a pink and orange Los Angeles sky, your platforms clicked against the sidewalk. Day left an hour ago, dipping behind the green hills of Laurel Canyon. Walking down The Strip, arms linked with your friend Deborah, the street bustled in the awakening night. Music spilled from clubs and bars, seducing the dressed-up crowd passing by this Friday night.

“Do a little dance, make a little love,”

“This,” Deborah emphasized, coming to a stop outside a club, “is exactly what you need tonight to get your mind off everything.”

She clutched your arm tighter to her body, almost like she was afraid you’d run off, and maybe she had good reason to think you would. You weren’t exactly in the right mood to party. Only a few hours ago, you’d gotten fired from your job. Three years as Mr. Cooper’s personal assistant down the drain.

Mr. Cooper was the creative director, and one of the partners at the advertisement agency where you’d worked. He was an important man, and he’d dealt with all kinds of clients on a daily basis. For you, it had been a learning curve of a job. You had no prior experience as a personal assistant, and it had been intimidating.

You’d only just moved to the City of Angels when you’d gotten the job. With next to no money, having left behind your family and your small town, you were desperate for a job. When you’d seen the ad in the newspaper, left behind on the table of a café near your apartment, you’d stepped out on the sidewalk immediately to find a payphone. During the interview Mr. Cooper had looked you up and down and scowled as he’d read your resume. You’d shrank in your seat under his gaze, but even with your lacking resume, Mr. Cooper had hired you on the spot.

Later, during your first full week at your new job, you’d come to discover why Mr. Cooper had hired you so quickly – he’d been desperate for a new assistant. Overhearing some of the other ladies whispering to each other during lunch, you’d been able to piece together exactly why. Apparently, Mr. Cooper and his former personal assistant had been having an affair. He’d gotten her pregnant and wanted nothing to do with her or the baby – he was a married man after all. This was where the story had gotten hazy, and the grape vine sang different songs. One version of the story said he’d forced her to get an abortion and riddled with grief over the dead baby and their failing relationship, she’d quit her job and moved back to her parents in Maine. While the other version of the story said that, rightfully angry at Mr. Cooper for not taking any responsibility over their situation, she’d gone to visit his wife at home to tell her about what’s been going on. Which story was the truth, you don’t know. What you did know, was that Mr. Cooper was still married, and his previous assistant was no longer working for him.

Even if the job had been intimidating at first, you’d quickly gotten used to it. You stayed on top of everything: Mr. Copper’s clients, his calls, his schedule. Ordered flowers for his wife, and even sent boxes of chocolates to his various paramours. You’d made sure the bar in his office was always stacked with his favorite bourbon, and most importantly: you’d made sure to be seen and not heard. It’s what he told you, in the job interview, that he wanted.

You had thought you were doing a good job, but clearly, Mr. Cooper had been laboring under a different impression…

Your day had started like every other day – normal. You’d arrived at work fifteen minutes before Mr. Cooper, like always. Dutifully greeting him with a sweet “Good morning, sir!” at your desk, and served him his morning coffee minutes later. The day continued like normal, occupied with calls and speaking to clients, you had no idea what shocking message you’d receive at the end of your day.

Outside the club, you gave Deborah a meek smile which faded when you saw the line snaking its way down the street, “Sure, but… we’ll never get in.”

“Get down tonight, get down tonight,”

The words of KC And The Sunshine Band traveled through the open club door, the music filled the warm summer air.

“Don’t worry, babes!” she beamed, “I know the owner.” With an overdramatic wink and a giggle, she pulled you towards the bouncer.

“Baby, baby, I'll meet you, same place, same time,”

“How exactly do you know the owner of this place?” you queried, as you passed through the door of the club while the music got louder and louder.

“Where we can get together, and ease up our mind,”

“Let’s just say we had a weekend together…,” she giggled, “and I got to know him very… intimately.”

Your eyes widened at her implications, and Deborah giggled even louder.

“Don’t look so surprised!” she laughed, “I’m all about free love,” she joked, putting up a peace sign.

A heat burned your cheeks. Still, after three years in LA you needed to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t in your small rural hometown anymore. No one was going to arrest you for talking about sex. Nevertheless, the habit was hard to shake, and the roots of the rules you’d grown up with – the ones that had taught you to be the perfect student and the perfect daughter – stayed embedded in your mind.

“So…” Deborah started, her back against the bar while she took her first sip of her Apple Martini. She’d ordered you some fruity cocktail you’d never had before that she swore you’d like. “What exactly did that sad excuse of a man say to you when he fired you?”

With a scrunch of your nose, you turned your attention to your drink, taking a sip. It tasted sugary, but fresh, one of those dangerous drinks where you couldn’t taste the alcohol.

“Let’s not talk about it?” you sighed, shooting Deborah another meek smile.

She returned your smile, but it was full of pity. “You’re right! Let’s not– Let’s forget that fucker,” she said, taking a generous sip of her drink, “you’ll easily get a new job! I know it!” she smiled.

Not soon after Deborah had finished her first drink, a man interrupted your conversation. The man was tall, with black wild hair, pork chops and a matching mustache. He was wearing a flower-patterned shirt tucked into a pair of brown bell-bottoms. The top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing dark chest hair and a gold chain. He wasn’t bad looking.

His hand on Deborah’s back didn’t seem to bother her, quite the opposite, she jumped excitedly, throwing her hands around his neck in greeting. You couldn’t hear what he whispered in her ear over the music, but it made her laugh.

“This is Tommy! He owns the club,” Deborah introduced you.

With a friendly smile, you shook Tommy’s hand and introduced yourself. His grip was firm, not like those people that made shaking their hand feel like gripping a dead fish. You decided that it was a good sign.

“So– are ya enjoyin’ yourselves, ladies?” he asked with a charming smile.

“Oh, yes!” Deborah smiled, her painted nails landing on his bicep, “But I think we’d enjoy ourselves even more after another drink.”

With a knowing smile and an easy laugh, Tommy ushered the bartender closer. “’nother round for these two beautiful ladies,” he ordered, “and… they’re drinkin’ on the house for the rest of the night,” he added, sending Deborah a wink.

The bartender served you your second drink just as Tommy convinced Deborah to dance with him. Quickly, she downed her Apple Martini before she turned to you, guilt written all over her face.

“You okay by yourself for a little bit?”

“Yeah– sure!” you nodded, “Go have fun!”

With a sorry smile and a promise to be right back, Deborah left you at the bar, dragged out on the dancefloor by Tommy.

Left to your own devices, you still felt a little awkward. This was supposed to be a girls night. Pushing off the bar, you turned to lean your back against it. You bopped your head to the music, trying to not look so out of place. In your hands, your drink was slippery from the condensation around the glass. Out on the dancefloor, the crowd looked like it moved in slow motion through the blinking lights, bodies twisting their hips and grooving to the beat. You took another sip.

It’s a strange feeling, feeling so alone, while surrounded by a crowd of people. To your, a couple gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes as they passed a cigarette back and forth, a ribbon of smoky white, clouded them in a love fog. They leaned closer, sharing a kiss. You quickly averted your eyes, desperate for something else to rest your eyes on.

Instead, they fell on a man.

You locked eyes with him from across the room. Clad in tight denim he sat casually in a booth in the corner, legs spread slightly. His hand was wrapped around a whisky glass, with a cigarette pinched between his fingers. With a shy smile, you quickly looked away again, eyes back to watching the bodies on the dancefloor. You took another sip of your drink, trying to act casual.

He wasn’t watching you, was he? Why would he? No one usually looked at you twice.

You were no good at this. Flirting. You were painfully awful at it to be completely honest. Too shy to be sexy, and never interesting enough, or pretty enough for a second date.

Your experience with dating didn’t really go further than the few dates you’d gone on with John, from accounting. He’d acted so sweet: opened doors for you, held out your chair, kissed you at your doorstep at the end of the night. He had been a dream. Then on your third date, he’d invited you back to his place for a nightcap. One thing led to another, and soon you were laying under him as he thrusted inside you. It was your first time – and he hadn’t known. It had hurt so much; you’d turned your face away so he wouldn’t see your tears. After, he’d called you a cab, not bothering to even kiss you goodbye. In the office the next day, he’d pretended like you’d never even existed: no more tender kisses, no more door opening, no more smiles. Your dream had turned into a nightmare.

He’d pulled you aside during lunch and told you it wouldn’t work out between the two of you. You were just such different people. You’d deflated like a balloon at his words, sinking into your chair as you watched him walk down the corridor back to his cubicle. To make matters worse you’d overheard him say, to some of his colleges by the watercooler, how awful in bed you’d been. It had been humiliating. And now, every time you as much as attempted to flirt with someone, a bell of shame rang in your ears.

The man couldn’t have looked at you. He’d for sure only looked in the direction of the bar. But something burned your cheek, and you couldn’t fight your eyes from trailing back in his direction.

Dark hair and a tidy mustache. Lips pulled up into a cheeky smile as you locked eyes with him again. He took a drag of his cigarette, and the fire lit up his handsome face. You felt something pool in your stomach. His gaze still on you as he exhaled, challenging you with a raised eyebrow. Again, your cheeks burned, and you had to look away. Suddenly, your own platform shoes looked extremely interesting.

“I remember when rock was young, me and Susie had so much fun,”

The sound of Elton John was the perfect distraction from the alluring stranger. You were sure that if you looked back at him again, you’d only embarrass yourself. You always did. Slurping up the rest of your drink, you pushed off the bar, and headed towards the dancefloor.

“Holding hands and skimming stones. Had an old gold Chevy, and a place of my own,”

Moving your hips to the beat you vanished in the bodies. And soon you were “hopping and bopping” to the Crocodile Rock, singing loudly along with the crowd to “Laa, la-la-la-la-laa”.

The air was clammy and stuffy, and sweat clung to your skin, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You were here to leave your shitty day behind. To dance it away. You moved through the crowd; a smile bright on your face while your feet couldn’t stay still. The handsome stranger in the booth, already forgotten.

As the song faded out, a new song faded in. It was slower. A slightly erotic, but melodic guitar filled the room, accompanied by a luring salsa rhythm. You slowed down your dancing. It felt like you were threading through water.

“Ain't got nobody that I can depend on. Ain't got nobody that I can depend on,”

A pair of hands landed on your hips, making you jump. Behind you, you heard the deep chuckle of a man.

“Relax, darlin’,” he whispered in your ear, moving your hips in time with his.

You leaned back against his body; head tipped back against his broad chest to get a look at the man. Your stranger from the booth. He wore a cocky smirk, but he didn’t come across as full of himself. He was confident. Confident in the way he held your body – big hands splayed over your hips. Confident in the way he danced, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and he did.

“Ain't got no one (no tengo a nadie). That I know of (no tengo a nadie). That I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

You let him move your body, turning you around to take your hand in his, pulling you closer to his chest. He smelled like cigarettes and cologne. He’d been watching you, you realized, not the bar. Interested enough in you to follow you out on the dancefloor. It intimidated you, but under the intimidation it also excited you.

He led your movements. You were no dancer, but he made it so easy, spinning you around with ease before pulling you back towards his body. The eye contact was intense, like he was searching for your soul. Santana’s wailing guitar and the stranger’s hand at your waist was the only thing grounding you to the moment.

“I ain't got nobody, that I can depend on (no tengo a nadie),”

The song reached its climactic end. The man spun you one last time before he pulled you tight against his chest. It was like the song’s ending had broken a spell over the two of you, the air of sensuality was gone, and replaced by his genuine smile and breathy laugh.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked you over the funky bassline of Eagles’ One of These Nights.

Wide-eyed, “Please,” was the only thing you could utter.

With a hand resting at the small of your back he led you through the crowd towards the bar, where he got the bartender’s attention immediately.

“An Old Fashioned for me Doug, and…” he looked towards you with a smile.

“Um… a Tequila Sunrise?” you said with a shy smile.

“A Tequila Sunrise, for this beautiful lady,” he told the bartender.

Grabbing one of the bar stools he sat down and gestured for you to do the same. You’d just about sat down before he leaned forward, grabbed a hold of your stool, and pulled you closer to him. A squeal escaped you before it turned into a giddy laugh.

“Thank you, Doug!” he told the bartender when he returned with your drinks.

“On a first name basis with the bartender– you here often?” you asked him, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not as often as I’d liked– it’s my lil’ brother’s club,” he told you, taking a sip of his own drink.

“You’re Tommy’s brother?” you wondered with a frown, a little shocked.

“You know Tommy?” he asked, equally shocked.

You shrugged, “Yes– well… not really.”

He took another sip of his drink, eyes urging you to go on.

“I met him earlier– he’s… well,” you didn’t know how to explain it, “I’m here with my friend Deborah, and I guess her and Tommy are…” you trailed off.

“Fuckin’?” he finished for you, grin wide on his face.

You only nodded, swallowing down another sip of your drink.

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about Deborah…” he trailed off with a look on his face like he knew a secret, “… but nothing about her beautiful friend.”

You huffed out a laugh and turned your head, heat traveling up your neck to your cheeks, “I’m not sure there’s much to know.”

“How about your name?” he suggested.

You turned back to look at him, really look at him.

Had Deborah set him up for this?

You wouldn’t put it past her if she had. She was always urging you to go out with her. To clubs, to parties in The Hills, on double dates. You wanted to go, you really did, but a voice in the back of your head always held you back. You’d thought moving to LA would be the remedy. All alone in a big city would surely help you come out of your shell, right? The harsh reality had been that LA hadn’t magically fixed you. You’d thought you’d be a completely different person here, but you’d packed your insecurities in your baggage. The only person who was gonna help you out of your shell, you’d started to realize… was you.

Putting on a brave face, disguised as a friendly smile, you gave him your name. The man was silent for a moment, nodding as he brought his lips to the rim of his glass again, taking another sip of his drink. It made you hold your breath.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said eventually with an easy grin. His compliment sent a warmth to your cheeks, while you fought an urge to squinch your face with embarrassment.

After a second of silence, you raised a brave eyebrow at him, “What about your name? Or shall I just call you Tommy’s brother?”

He chuckled lightly, eyes glinting, before he cleared his throat, “Name’s Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeated with a nod, making his cocky smile wider. Tasting his name on your tongue, you decided it sounded pleasant on your lips.

“So– you’re Deb’s friend?” Joel started, to which you confirmed with a nod. “How come she’s never brought you ‘round before?” he wondered with a sip of his drink.

You gave him a relaxed shrug, “I’m not much of a drinker– if I’m honest.”

He leaned forward, like he was about to whisper a secret to you, “You are aware of the fact that you’re in a club, aren’t you?” he teased.

Your mouth dropped open before you playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Shut up,” you said, “I’m not usually much of a drinker… at least not without good reason.”

“So, what’s the good reason?” Joel asked, raising a single eyebrow, “Boyfriend dumped ya?”

“Boss dumped me, actually…” you corrected, “I got fired.”

Joel sucked some air between his teeth, “Ouch… you better get another drink, then.” He turned his body towards the bar to casually raise a hand, getting the attention of Doug.

You let out a scoffing laugh, shaking your head at his teasing tone, “Maybe I will.”

As you finish your Tequila Sunrise, Joel ordered you another one, and one for himself. You felt hot to the touch. The alcohol coursed through your body like liquid courage, it traveled through your bloodstream, greasing the part of yourself where your confidence laid dormant.

“What did you work as?” he asked, sipping his own Tequila Sunrise.

“I am–was…” you corrected, “a personal assistant.”

“A good one?” Joel wondered.

Taking a large sip of your drink, you tried to swallow down your failure.

“You’d have to ask my boss,” you breathed out.

“The one that fired ya?” he returned with a cocky smile, and you fought an urge to roll your eyes.

Sitting up a little straighter you narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you do, then? If you’re so good at your job?”

“Never said I was good at it,” he shrugged, cocky grin not going anywhere.

“You gonna make me ask you again?” you deadpanned, your shyness shedding with every sip of your drink.

Joel looked amused, like he was in on a secret only he knew. You continued to stare at him, raising a challenging eyebrow at his continued silence.

“I’m an actor,” he confessed.

You couldn’t hide the impressed look that crossed your face. Sure, you’d been in LA for three years, he wasn’t the first actor you’d met, and he for sure wouldn’t be the last, but it was something about the way he said it.

“A good one?” you used his own words against him, making him chuckle.

He took another sip of his drink, “I’d like to think so,” he smiled, looking at you over the rim of his glass.

“Anything I’d know?” you wondered, watching him put his glass down.

The corners of his mouth twitched into what looked like an ironic smirk, “God, I kinda of hope not,” he said, eyes trailing the scratches and dents in the dark wood of the bar.

You both went quiet, as you sipped your drinks. You’d started to wonder if you’d maybe said something wrong, when Joel cleared his throat.

“Not to mix business with pleasure–” he started, turning towards you, mouth twitching again at the innuendo, “but I happen to be looking for an assistant.”

“Oh, really?” you deadpanned, convinced he was pulling your leg.

“You don’t believe me?” he breathed out a chuckle.

“Let’s see: a strange man dances with me in a club,” you held up a finger, “then buys me a drink, then offers me a job? I may not be from around here, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that one.” You laughed with a shake of your head.

As you laughed, it hit you how easily you found it to jest with Joel. Usually, you were the quiet one. The one observing or just listening, always too shy to joke freely, especially with people you didn’t know, but somehow, in this moment you felt free. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was getting fired. Or maybe… it was Joel.

“Well, believe it or not, I ain’t fibbin’… it really depends on how much you need a job,” he took another sip of his drink.

“I just got fired,” you said matter of factly.

Joel gave you an infuriatingly innocent shrug, “Then you better start believing me when I say I’m looking for an assistant.”

You couldn’t do anything other than scoff in disbelief. “So what?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow, “You’re just gonna offer me a job after knowing me for barely an hour? No interview or nothing?”

“Do I need to be interviewin’ ya?” he wondered innocently.

“It’s a job!” you spluttered, “You always interview people before you give them a job!”

He gave you a nonchalant shrug. “Then I guess I will… so what can you tell me about yourself? What makes you a good assistant?” he asked, tone genuine as he placed an elbow on the bar counter and rested his head in his hand.

“I don’t mean now!” you let out in a nervous squeak, and Joel seemed to enjoy the way you shifted nervously in your seat.

He shrugged, “Alright then… you got time for coffee? Say… tomorrow mornin’?”

Ten to ten the next morning you met Joel for coffee.

Wanting to give him a good and professional impression – he could be your new employer after all – you’d worn your brown three pieced suit with a purple paisley shirt under your suit vest. It made you feel strong– well usually, right now you couldn’t seem to shake the pre-interview nerves… Anyway, you were hoping your outfit would make Joel think you had your shit together – at least put together enough for him to hire you.

With eyes scanning the café, you found him at a table by the window, smoking a cigarette. When you approached him, heels clicking against the hardwood floor, he checked his watch.

“Ten minutes early!” he remarked with a grin.

“Reliability and punctuality are good qualities in a new employee, I’ve heard.” You shot him a shy smile before you placed your bag on the floor by your chair.

He hummed, watching you with an easy smile as you sat down opposite him while shedding your jacket. The white smoke danced in front of his face like coiling ribbons. Clad in a striped polo with a Johnny collar he’d tucked into a pair of Levi’s jeans, he relaxed in his chair, shifting slightly, and spreading his legs wider. The movement, like a reflex, drew your eyes to his lower half. His Levi’s were tight, held in place by a big western belt buckle, but it wasn’t his belt buckle that caught your attention.

“So…” he started. His voice startled you, and you flicked your eyes back to his face. His playful smile told you he’s caught you checking him out. Embarrassed, you looked past him, not daring to make eye contact as you fought the urge to cringe.

“How are ya?” he took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth.

“I’m–I’m good thank you,” you gave him a nervous smile, the confidence from last night gone with the rise of the sun, “how are you?”

“I’m good too, sweetheart,” he nodded, “wanna have this interview…? Or should I just tell you now you’re hired?”

Perplexed, your eyebrows met in a furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Honey, I already decided last night I’d hire you,” he grinned with another drag of his cigarette.

“I–… I mean are you sure?” you stuttered, “I brought my resume and references and everything– don’t you want to take a look at them?” you wondered, a hand dropping to your bag to fish out your newly typed resume and references. You tapped the papers against the table before placing them neatly in front of him.

Retracting your hands, you rested them in your lap, while you watched him. He placed his cigarette in his mouth before he picked up your resume. His eyes scanned the paper, his head nodding slightly.

“Graduated high school in 1970… A year as a cashier at Piggly Wiggly…” he started listing, his cigarette dipping with each word, “A year at Greasy Motors?”.

“Um– yes!” you peeped, “It’s my uncle’s garage shop– I worked as their secretary,” you told him, picking at the skin around your nails.

“You any good with cars?” he asked, one eyebrow raised as he took one last drag of his cigarette.

“No–No not really… I just spoke to the customers, answered the phone and stuff like that.”

You’d wanted to learn some of the basics, but you’d quickly given up. None of the guys had taken you seriously, and they had made sure to let you know where your place was – it was not with your hands deep in an engine.

Joel hummed at your answer and stubbed out his cigarette. “And Mr. Cooper’s the one that fired ya?” he asked.

You gave him a short nod. Your pointer finger burned with pain as you pulled at a piece of skin you’d picked loose around your nail.

“Why?”,

“The honest answer?” you sighed, and he nodded.

“I don’t know,” you told him, “he just called me into his office at the end of the day and told me he was gonna have to let me go– I was honestly too shocked to ask him why.”

“Oof,” Joel frowned.

“Yeah,” you sighed, you didn’t know what else to say.

“Well… you’ve given me a great impression, both last night and right now, so you’ve got the job, sweetheart– if you want it.” He leaned back in his chair, letting your resume fall from his hands.

“It can’t be that easy, can it?” the words fell from your lips before you had time to think. Joel raised a curious eyebrow at you. “I mean what’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch.”

He seemed to think about it for a beat, “Unless there is…” Joel’s lips tugged at the corners as he leaned over the table, “Remember I said I was an actor?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

You gave him a skeptical nod.

“I’m an adult actor…” he lowered his voice, “You understand?” he asked before he leaned back in his seat again.

An adult actor. Your eyes widened with realization.

“Wait… you mean,” you looked around you before you leaned forward over the table like he’d just done, “you’re a pornstar?” you whispered, feeling your cheeks start to burn with embarrassment.

“Is that a problem for you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Was it? Was it a problem for you?

The question tugged at the back of your neck. Tugged on your childhood, on your upbringing. You’d escaped; had your own apartment now, made your own money. You were trying to come into your own, to finally be your own person.

With teeth digging into your bottom lip, you looked at Joel. He watched you expectantly, head tipping slightly to the right as he studied you. There was no malice in his eyes, and nothing about him seemed grimy or obscene… Nothing about him screamed pornstar. If someone like him could do something so… unusual, for a job, maybe wasn’t so bad.

“No,” you decided, “it’s not a problem.”

“Groovy!” he grinned, “I’ll have my manager draw up a contract for you.”

And just like that you were officially Joel Miller’s, aka the infamous Joel Packer, personal assistant.

Joel sat on the tiled steps outside his house, smoking a cigarette, when you pulled up to the curb. He perked up when he saw you, grabbing his worn leather duffel bag before he waltzed down his driveway.

“Cab for Miller?” you joked through the rolled down window, ducking your head to peek up at him.

He chuckled at your joke, pinching his cigarette between two fingers for one last drag, before putting it out with a twist of his shoe. The smog laid low over LA this morning, like a blanket. It was gonna be a long day, and a long drive.

Letting out a small grunt, Joel got in your car. The smell of cigarettes and cologne – the smell of him – filled the space between you. He twisted around tossing his duffel bag into the backseat, and your eyes couldn’t help but land on his bicep, watching the way his muscles flexed under the weight. You felt a sudden urge to roll down the window a little further.

When he turned back around, the smooth wood of your steering wheel looked extremely interesting.

“Thanks for drivin’, sweetheart. My car’s still in the shop for ‘nother few days.”

The corner of your mouth twisted into a small smile, “No problem, Joel.”

“Are we all set?” he breathed out his question before his hands landed on his thighs with a dull smack!

“Um, yes, it’s just…” you turned to look at him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a Steely Dan concert tee – All-American Tour ’74 – with his yellow tinted pilot sunglasses tucked into his neckline.

“Just what, sweetheart?”,

“I picked up a package for you– it’s in the backseat,” you cocked your head in the direction.

“What is it?” he twisted back around, one hand searching for the cardboard box behind his seat.

Even in the smoldering LA heat, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up. “Um… it’s your package.”

“Yeah, I got that, honey– but what is it?” he asked again, twisting his hand back and placing the cardboard box in his lap.

You let out a small whine, “Don’t make me say it Joel– it’s your package.” You gestured a hand over your nether region.

Joel looked at you with a mischievous smile spreading across his face, “Oh, now I really wanna hear you say it,” he teased, hooking his finger under the tape.

“It’syourdick,” you said quickly, “–the dildo.”

In another step towards furthering Joel Packer’s success, he’d been asked to model for a sextoy. It’s no surprise he’d been asked. With the women’s liberation movement gaining more and more followers every day, more women had been exploring their own sexuality. Joel was popular with both men and women. He was like a chameleon when it came to porn. He knew just what to give, whether that would be hardcore porn, tossing his scene partners around and making them come until they couldn’t anymore; or doing full frontal nudity for a centerfold for Playgirl.

With a drag of the tape, Joel laughed, his shoulders shaking. “I can’t believe you’re still shy about that stuff, sweetheart. You’ve been workin’ for me for how long now, huh? And you still can’t say dick to my face– what do you say to my business partners? Wiener?”

“I’m not shy,” you denied rather unconvincingly, making him shoot you an unimpressed look making you flutter. “I don’t know… it’s just different saying it to you!”

“Why?” he asked, pulling out the box with the dildo he’d modeled for.

Your eyes followed his hands, running over the pink packaging, the handsome photo they’d used of him on the front.

“I-I don’t know… it just is.”

A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he hummed – not convinced. Instead, he opened the box, pulling out the sextoy. The company had sent him one before they’d hit the shelves at the end of the month. They were being advertised in Playgirl first – to build up the hype. The sextoy looked exactly like him, and at the same time, nothing like him. The size and shape were true to life (8 inches like they’d advertised on the box), but the color was wrong.

“This is so fuckin’ weird,” he laughed, turning it in his hand, “’s this what I look like?”

“The color looks wrong,” you pointed out. He looked over at you for a beat and then back to the sextoy.

“’s a little… plastic-y,” he commented, “and weird lookin’ without the balls…”

He put the dildo back in the box before he handed it to you. You shook your head and turned the car key, “Just put it back in the backseat.”

“No, ‘s not what I meant,” he nudged your arm with the box, “you have it.”

You were glad the car stood still because the shock of his words would’ve made you get in a car accident.

“Why?” you said, a little flustered.

“Exactly what do women do with a dildo, I wonder?” he teased, nudging your arm again.

“No, Joel, that’s just weird– you’re my boss.” You nudged him back before you put the car in drive.

“You prefer the real thing, then?” a teasing lilt still wrapped around his words.

“Shut up,” you huffed, focusing on driving instead.

“I’m just messin’, sweetheart!” he laughed and threw the box messily behind him.

Leaning forward, Joel pushed the play button on your car radio. The cassette deck whirled before a twangy sound of piano filled your car as you started cruising down the road. A few seconds later Joni Mitchell sang the opening lines of the title track ‘Court and Spark’.

“I need you in charge of the map,” you broke the silence between you after a few minutes, “I don’t know where the house is.”

He opened your glove compartment, pulling out your map of California. You focused on the road while he studied the map.

“Looks like we need to get on the 101– it should take about three hours, Ronald said.”

You hummed. Ronald was Joel’s manager. He’d represented Joel for as long as Joel’s been in porn. Ronald was sleazy, and gross, and you tried to only be in his presence when it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, for you, Ronald was a good manager, and the reason why Joel Packer was as popular a pornstar as he was.

“When we get to Pismo Beach we’ll just stop and ask around for the address.” Joel said, folding the map.

Usually, Ronald was the one who came along to set with Joel. His reasoning being that there was business to attend to, and that he was supportive of his client, but you knew the real (pervy) reason. You on the other hand had only come along to set a few times. Quick to embarrassment, you’d quickly hid yourself away in Joel’s dressing room, claiming you had work you’d neglected to do.

This time, Ronald couldn’t make it because of scheduling conflicts. Joel was gonna go alone, but then his car had broken down on the 405. He needed a ride, and who else to ask other than the person he paid to help him out. The shoot was taking place at a beach house somewhere in Pismo Beach. You’d never been to Pismo Beach before, and neither had Joel. The booking agent had told you it was nice enough and secluded. Perfect for shooting a porno without bringing too much attention.

Three hours later, you and Joel arrived at the shoot. The beach house was busy and filled with people working like ants to get the film set ready. The shoot was scheduled to last for one day, and as the time flew past 10am, you were starting to get short on time.

As soon as you stepped inside, they ushered Joel straight to make-up and wardrobe. Careful not to be in anybody’s way, you took a look around the house. It was beautiful. Newly built, not more than ten years old you guessed, and right on the beach. Warm wood tones lined the walls and floors, and on the ceilings, sturdy beams met in the middle. A leather couch with matching chairs was turned towards the big floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach, and a cowhide rug decorated the floor. They’d set up a step ladder by the windows, all ready for the first scene.

You found Joel a moment later in one of the bedrooms sitting, in a chair as he got his make-up done. You noticed he’d already changed into his costume. A pair of overalls with nothing underneath, and a toolbelt hanging from his hips.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted, his eyes trailing your body.

“Hi,” you smiled, “How you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

He looked at you, a pregnant pause passing between the two of you, “No, not right now.”

“Oh, okay!” you nodded, teeth catching your bottom lip, “Just let me know if there’s anything.”

You moved over to the bed where his clothes were spewed across the bedding. Trying to make yourself useful, you picked them up to fold them.

“D’you know if Tess is ready?” you heard him ask.

Tess was Joel’s scene partner for the day, and also his most frequent scene partner. They’d been in more films together over the past years than you could count, their chemistry always electric. Everything they did was just hot, and this time would be no exception. Tess was playing a neglected housewife all alone in her big beach house until carpenter Joel arrived to help her feel less alone with his tool(s).

“Um, no… I haven’t seen her at all– but I can go find out if you want?” you said, placing his folded t-shirt neatly on the bed.

“No, bless your heart, it’s okay,” he spoke slowly, watching the make-up artist pack up her things before telling him he’s all set.

Left alone with Joel he spoke again, “You gonna watch today?”

His question kicked your heart into gear, stuttering along like a teenager who can’t drive stick. “I-I don’t know yet,” you folded his jeans, “… do you want me to?”

You felt him move closer, but he didn’t answer you. Gathering your courage, you met his eyes. He was watching you with a soft look in his eye, a look he’d sent you more and more often lately.

Grabbing your wrist, his calloused fingers like a warm bracelet, he took his jeans from your hand and placed them down next to his t-shirt.

“I’d like that.”

He said it with a smile, and you couldn’t do anything other than nod.

Joel had started to make you feel lots of things lately. Warm fuzzy feelings bubbled under your skin, just like the warmth from his hand on your wrist right now. Joel was a flirt, cocky and confident. Your complete opposite. You weren’t as shy as you’d been at the start of your job, but you couldn’t help but still be shy around Joel sometimes. Especially when he smiled at you the way he was right now, or when you felt his touch on your body.

The first scene they shot was the intro. A cheesy scene where Joel got invited into Tess the housewife’s home. One too many innuendos about ‘tools’ later, you’d slipped away before lunch time to find the catering table, fixing up a plate for Joel and one for yourself. After lunch, the fun began as the director had said.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Joel’s fingers brushed over the back of your arm, getting your attention. You were about to go sit in his director’s chair, to watch as you’d promised.

“Yeah, Joel?” you looked at him through your lashes, your face curious. You tried very hard to keep them on his face, and not to let them wander to the outline of his hard cock through his overalls.

“Could you go get me some lube?” he asked you, eyes pleading.

“Oh! Um–” you nervously perked up, “Yes, of course,” you nodded, turning around yourself on the spot like you were already on the lookout.

“Thanks!” His hand landed on your shoulder, turning you to focus back on him, fingers rubbed over the material of your shirt. He was smiling at you, a small glint in his eye as he took you in. It made something inside you flutter, your eyes eclipsing over.

“OK guys! Quiet on set!” the director called, pulling you and Joel from your moment. His hand fell from your shoulder, a sorry smile draped across his face.

Slipping away, you went on a hunt for lube. When you came back you were met with the deep grunts of Joel as he got his cock sucked. He was fully naked, standing at the edge of the bed with Tess naked and dutifully on her knees for him – pleasuring him to heaven by the looks of it.

“There you go, baby,” he praised Tess, his big hand entangled in her hair as he pushed himself deeper down her throat. “You like sucking cock, don’t you? Like cheating on your husband like the dirty fuckin’ whore you are, huh?”

You knew he was just reading off his lines, but he said them like he hadn’t practiced at all, it was all so natural. Stumbling backwards towards his director’s chair, you sat down. You felt drawn to the scene before you, caught up in the moment, in the sounds of Joel’s moans and Tess’ spluttering around his cock. Never had you allowed yourself to watch him this openly before – it sent an electric pulse to your core.

Tess gave him head for a few minutes more, filth and praises fell from Joel’s mouth as the cameraman dutifully got every angle. Mesmerized by the scene playing out before you, a small pit started to form in your stomach – a mixture of pleasure and… jealousy. You shifted in the chair at the thought of you on your knees for him instead, pleasuring him and pulling those moans from his lips. Wondering if the praising words he told Tess, would sound different if it was you he told them to instead. You didn’t realize how caught up in the sight in front of you until you heard someone call your name.

It was Joel.

Shaking yourself from your fantasy daydreaming, you pulled yourself together. They’d changed positions while the cameraman changed the film. Joel was now sat on his knees on the bed with his cock standing to attention. On her back, he had Tess’ legs parted and splayed open in front of him.

Why was he talking to you?

He called your name again, figuring you hadn’t heard him over the humming of conversation now filling up the set. You hopped off the chair and nervously scurried over to him.

“What’s up?” you whispered. Your eyes were glued to his face, not daring to glide them even an inch downwards.

He hooked his fingers around your thumb. On his face he was wearing the widest grin, “Could you grab me some water?”

His touch sent your brain into overdrive, your eyes blinking around his question, “Y-yes– I’ll be right back.” His touch fell, and you scurried away to find him some water before they started filming again.

Back, and with a bottle of water in your hand you allowed yourself one quick look at his naked body. His broad chest, the way his muscles moved underneath his tan skin. Your eyes raked over his body, down his stomach, trailing the happy trial down to his impressive cock.

“Okay, everybody– we’re all set!” The loud voice of the director made you jump. Joel handed back the bottled water, a rough hand wiping the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

If he’d clocked you checking him out, he didn’t show it. Instead, he got ready while you made your way back to his director’s chair. Tess said something you couldn’t quite catch, but it got his attention. He grinned from ear to ear, a quick look in your direction, before he playfully shook his head at her.

The next scene had you squirming in your seat.

With his head between her legs, Joel used both his mouth and fingers to pleasure her – and Tess was clearly enjoying herself. Her hands were digging into his hair, pushing him greedily down onto her pussy. High pitched, pornographic moans and whimpers escaped her. Joel was clearly enjoying himself too, moaning and groaning into her pussy as he ate her out greedily, making sure to pull every ounce of pleasure from her.

Tess came with a cry, withering breathlessly as she squirmed in Joel’s hold. He held her shaking legs in a tight grip, not letting up his licking and sucking until he’d pulled another orgasm from her. With a breathless laugh she pushed him away, big wide smile spreading as he peppered kisses to the inside of her thigh. You shifted slightly in your seat. An unmistakable wetness had gathered in your panties. You crossed your leg over the other, subtly.

With a tap to her thigh Joel encouraged Tess to turn over. He sat up, resting back on his heels as he stroked his cock languidly. Tess moved onto all fours, arching her back and putting herself on display for him. The camera moved in closer, a watchful eye, as Joel ran a finger through her folds.

“So wet for me, baby,” he said, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock. “This pussy’s been neglected, hasn’t it? ‘s just dying to be fucked.”

He thrusted inside her, burying himself in her pussy, moans and groans falling from both their lips. You felt the air stand still for a beat, before he pulled back and thrusted back inside. They quickly built up a rhythm, skin slap slap slapping, as their moans held the tune. They moved in sync. Joel kept up the pace, hands holding her waist firmly, while Tess met them with a breathy moan. When she gripped the sheets in pleasure, you wondered if it really felt as good as she let on, or if it was all just part of the show.

“Face the camera,” the director interrupted suddenly. He wanted a close up of Tess getting fucked.

Joel slipped out of her, the bright lights catching on his glistening cock. The sight of Tess’ arousal reminded you, and the bottle of lube in your lap, about your insignificancy. Joel quickly slipped back inside Tess, a hand gripping her shoulder as he picked up the pace again.

“Just like that, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”

You felt silly, the reality of what you’d just done settling in. Why on earth would you agree to watch Joel? Pornstar or not, he’s still your boss. Your longing for him to be something else, would never erase that fact.

Disappointment was a heavy rope tying you down. You needed to get out of there before you hurt your own feelings. Sliding out of the chair, you left the bottle of lube. Straightening out your suede skirt, let out a quiet sigh. You didn’t want to look at him, but something drew you to him either way.

You locked eyes immediately, his eyes were dark and intense. He picked up the pace, Tess almost screaming with pleasure underneath him, but his eyes still didn’t leave yours. You couldn’t look away. The world narrowed until the only thing you could see was him.

With a grunt and a firm thrust, Joel came inside her, mouth parted in pleasure and eyes never leaving yours.

Squeezed into a flimsy plastic chair, feet planted steadily in front of him, Joel sat smoking a cigarette by the pool. Ripples of blue swam across his face, before giving way to the soft warmth of the burning cigarette. He looked deep in thought as you got out of your car, a plastic bag of take-out swinging from your hand. You slammed the door shut, jolting Joel from his thoughts. The evening wind softly kissed your bare arms as you walked across the parking lot to the fenced in pool area.

The shoot had run long and by the time it was over, it was late. Joel was tired, and when he’d suggested you stay at a motel for the night, you’d been quick to agree. Watching the darkening sky, you’d started to dread the three-hour drive back to LA – you’d rather wait for daylight.

Situated right off the main road Joel had spotted a Motel 6 with the neon ‘Vacancy’ light humming. With tired steps you’d walked together towards the lobby, and the lady at the desk didn’t look up from her magazine when you and Joel approached. Behind her, coming through the door to the back office, you heard a laugh track.

Joel turned on his southern charm, “’Scuse me, ma’am.”

The receptionist still didn’t look up from her magazine.

“Do y’all have two rooms vacant?”

With a sigh, the woman looked up at him, peering over her glasses. “We only have one Queen left.” She smacked her lips together obnoxiously as she spoke, a piece of gum visible in her teeth.

Joel looked over at you, one eyebrow raised. Crossing your arms over your chest, you didn’t know what to say. If they only had one room, they only had one room. You tapped your foot restlessly, made a face like you were thinking it over before you gave Joel a short but affirmative nod. He watched you for another beat, before he turned back around to say, “We’ll take it.”

The room was nothing much; a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, two chairs and a table tucked into one corner, and a door leading to a small bathroom. First thing Joel did was find a place to put his bag. You didn’t have a bag, only your handbag, you hadn’t planned on not sleeping in your own bed tonight. Joel, on the other hand, always brought a change of clothes to set. He’d told you once he didn’t like to leave in the same clothes he’d arrived in.

As you closed in on Joel by the pool you realized he was still wearing his clothes from this morning. He’d told you he wanted to shower, so you’d gone out to get you both some dinner to give him some privacy. Now you wondered if he’d even had his shower.

“Hungry?” you asked, putting the plastic bag down on the round table beside him.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette, watching you through a cheeky smile, “Starvin’.”

“The only thing open was the roadside diner, so I’m afraid it’s greasy burgers.”

Joel gave you a shrug as you sat down, “Works for me.”

You ate in silence – sloshing coming from the pool and the cicadas hiding in the bushes, filled the air instead. When Joel finished his burger, and started on his fries, he looked up at you.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked you. You were silent for a second, before you looked down at the burger in your hand.

“Er...” you hesitated, not sure what he wanted you to say, “It’s not bad... meat’s a little dry, but–”

Joel interrupted your train of thought with a deep chuckle.

“I meant the porno, darlin’,” he said, using one of the napkins to wipe the corners of his mouth, “not the burger.” A smile pulled at his lips.

“Oh,” you said, and felt your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You swallowed, buying yourself some time before you gave him a shrug.

“Was good,” you said, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I’m sure your fans will love it!”

“I wasn’t askin’ about them,” Joel said. His gaze felt like it was piercing through you, “Was askin’ you, wasn’t I? Did you like it?”

Despite the desperate embarrassment firing through your veins, you raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me about porn over dinner?”

“Fair point,” he said with a nod, “You’re deflecting, though.”

A small chuckle escaped you, a smile tugging on the corner of your mouth as you shook your head and looked away for a second.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked him, looking back at him, “It’s porn, I’m human... of course I liked it.”

Bingo.

You can see from the corners of Joel’s smile that he’s happy with that answer, and he lets out an agreeing hum.

“See?” he said, his tone teasing, “Was that so hard to admit?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said through a small scoff, pushing your styrofoam container away from you as you fell back in your chair.

“I am–… what was your favorite part?”

He was grinning hard now. He dug a hand in his back pocket, fishing out his packet of cigarettes and his lighter. You watched him with your head tilted, waiting for him to let you off the hook like he usually did. Instead, he grinned even wider, small splutters of breathy giggles making the cigarette dip as he tried to light it.

“Gimmie that!” you commanded, reaching out your hand for his cigarette. With a surprised eyebrow he took a quick drag before he handed it over. He watched you quietly as you took a breath. Savoring the first tar-y breath filling up your lungs.

“I liked the way you…” you took another drag and exhaled through your nose, “I don’t know…” you handed him the cigarette.

“I’m waitin’,” he teased, making you playfully roll your eyes at him.

“Well,” you sighed, “I liked the way you’re so attentive and made sure she’s feeling good even though it’s acting and everything… Even when you’re like throwing her around, all in charge and stuff.” You waved away the words.

“Yeah, well, that is the most important part of sex,” he gave you a look. Suddenly, he was a little serious. “It’s not fun if she’s not havin’ fun.”

“Not every guy thinks like that, you know,” you spoke, “it’s really nice that you do.”

Joel hummed at your words before a comfortable silence fell over you. You listened to the buzzing cicadas and the burning of Joel’s cigarette every time he took a drag.

“And… the dirty talk was hot too– you’re good at that,” you mused after a moment, breaking the silence, feeling comfortable enough with Joel to tell him the truth. He doesn’t judge you about what you think was sexy, and you realized it felt nice to open up to somebody, to let your suffocating shame die.

“Now, darlin’,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “now you’re just strokin’ my ego.”

“I can stroke more than your ego.”

Joel choked on his cigarette, coughing around the smoke before he looked over at you with wide eyes. “Am I goin’ crazy, or did you just tell a dirty joke?”

Your giggle filled the air between you before you leaned forward for his cigarette again. You brought it to your mouth as you impishly shrugged. Inside, you buzzed with a fluttery feeling.

You smiled at him. “I don’t know– you tell me.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes at you, leaning over the table to get a good look at you, “I’m not sure I’m likin’ this… where’s my sweet girl, huh?”

My sweet girl.

Your heart skipped like stones over water, and you had to look away. A smile blooming across your face. You heard him let out a sweet chuckle before he stood from his chair. The plastic feet scraping ever so slightly against the concrete. You watched him as he stepped before you, squatting down to be at eye level with you, his big hand landing on your exposed knee to steady himself.

“She’s still here,” you whispered after a moment. The cigarette between your fingers was burning out, but your whole body felt like it was on fire, a burning spreading from under his touch.

“I know she is, sweetheart,” he whispered back, his fingers rubbing gently over your skin. Joel looked at you with attentive eyes, “I love how shy you get for me.”

Before you had time to process his words, he pinched the cigarette from your fingers and stood to his feet. “Let’s call it a night?” he asked you, offering up his hand for you to take.

Feeling brave, you took his hand. It dwarfed your own, but it was strong, and warm in your hold. You watched as Joel finished off the cigarette, and stumped it out in the ashtray on the table, before gathering up your trash. You walked back to your room, hands intertwined and swinging between you. You couldn’t shake the thought of how you wished he’d kissed you.

Back inside your room he let you use the bathroom first. It was small, and the air was damp. You could see droplets of water clinging to the shower curtain. Joel did shower after all, he’d rinsed the day off into the drain. With no toiletries, you made do with what the motel offered. A bar of soap was sufficient enough to remove your make-up, but you knew your skin would punish you for it later. After brushing your teeth, you stepped back out where Joel waited for you on the bed.

“I’ve got a spare shirt if you wanna borrow it.” He held up his hand, handing you the clean cotton shirt he’d packed.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly.

He watched you for a beat, his eyes soft, but tired. “And I’ll sleep in one of the chairs– don’t want ya worryin’ about nothin’.”

Shaking your head, you protested, “No, Joel, you’ve had a long day! I’ll sleep in the chair!”

This time he shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his mouth, “No, darlin’, you’re drivin’ tomorrow, remember? You’ll need your rest.”

Your eyebrows met in a furrow. He was right; you couldn’t do the drive back to LA tomorrow on no sleep, but you couldn’t live with yourself if he didn’t get any sleep either.

“Let’s just…” you trailed off, “You’re tired, I’m tired– let’s both sleep in the bed?” you suggested.

Crawling under the sheets clad in only your underwear and Joel’s t-shirt, you wondered if you were being unprofessional. This was technically a work trip. Joel was still your boss. You looked over at him where he sat on the edge with his back turned, fiddling with the alarm clock. Your eyes trailed over his bare back, tan and strong. You knew you could stare at him all night.

It was official: you’d left professional at the door.

Finally, the alarm clock set for tomorrow morning, Joel put it back on the nightstand. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he caught your eyes on his body. It made him smile.

“Joel? Can I ask you something?”

He got under the sheets, his foot grazing against yours as he got comfortable. “Yeah, sweetheart.”

“Can you turn off the light?”

“You needn’t ask me if you can ask me, to turn off the light,” he laughed, “you can just say ‘Joel, turn off the light’.”

You scrunched your face together. This was coming out all wrong. “No, I mean… I don’t think I can ask you my question with the lights still on.”

He looked you over with a warm smile before he leaned over and turned off the light on his nightstand. “There… what you want to ask me?”

Even bathed in darkness, you hesitated to speak. “Um… I guess…” you started, not knowing how to ask what you wanted to ask. You turned over on your back and stared at the ceiling, cursing the return of your shyness.

Joel waited for you patiently to gather your courage.

“How much… of porn, is fake?” you finally uttered.

Joel turned to his side, facing you, “What do you mean?”

“Like… when– when the girls…” You couldn’t say it.

“Come?”, he helped.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “is that real or… like– do they actually like it?”

“Right…”

Joel thought about your question, “’s hard to say… I mean mostly it’s real– at least in my experience– like I can feel it around my cock or fingers… but everybody has off days, and not everybody can come from penetration.”

Mostly it’s real. You went quiet, silently thinking about his answer as you stared a hole in the ceiling. Not everybody can come from penetration.

“Why you askin’ me this, sweetheart?” He shifted a little closer.

You pulled your hands from under the sheets, resting them over your chest. Your thumb on your right hand found your thumb on the left where it picked at the skin.

“Huh?”

“I– I don’t know… it’s silly.”

“No, ‘s not– you’re not silly, sweetheart.” He shifted a little closer, a reassuring hand falling over your own and stopping you from picking at your fingers.

You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t look at him either. You felt silly. You’d just complimented him earlier about how attentive he comes across in bed, and now you’re asking him if any of it was even real.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Joel asked, breaking the silence between you.

Nodding your head, you hummed.

“Are you a virgin?”

His question almost made you jump. Suddenly, his previously calming hands over yours felt heavy. A fire started in your cheeks. You were mortified, and it felt crazy. If you were back home right now, you’d be mortified to tell anyone you weren’t a virgin seeing as you were unmarried. Now, with Joel, you felt mortified he thought you were one.

“No,” you peeped. It would’ve sounded like a lie if it wasn’t the truth. “W-what makes you say that?” You finally looked at him, your eyes wide as saucers.

Unconvinced, he gave you a lopsided smile, “How many have you slept with?”

“How many have you slept with?” you mumbled.

“Honey, we both know that I’ve slept with way too many to count.” He said it with a teasing lilt to his voice, and a comforting rub of his thumb over the back of your hand. His small touch was enough to relax you, to bring you back from the ledge of mortification. This was Joel for god’s sake. He would never judge you; you knew that.

“One…” you whispered, “Only one person.”

With a hum, Joel shifted over to lay on his back, but his thumb still rubbed circles over your skin. “So– you’re asking me this ‘cause it was bad?” he mused.

“I don’t know… maybe,” you whispered.

“You don’t know if it was bad– or you don’t know why you’re askin’ me if women enjoy sex?”

“The latter,”

“So, it was bad,” he concluded, before he whispered, mostly to himself.

The silence was back, speaking loudly between the two of you as you both processed what the other had just said. After a beat Joel turned back on his side to face you again.

“Tell me– how bad was it?” He said it softly, a tenderness in his voice you hadn’t heard before.

“It just… it hurt.”

You sighed, and for the first time since the light went out you turned your head to look at him. “John–” your face scrunched up in a grimace as you spoke his name, like you couldn’t believe you were telling him this story. “He worked in accounting, and we were going around, you know? Went on a few dates. He was a sweet guy. After the third date we went back to his place, for a drink. He kissed me– and then we were making out, and during everything I just thought ‘This might as well happen’. I thought I wanted to lose my virginity… and I liked John– so why not. But then he just… pulled off my underwear, didn’t even touch me and… went to town.”

Joel sucked a breath through his teeth, his hand gripping yours a little tighter. “Did you– have you ever had an orgasm?”

You shifted uncomfortably under his question and turned your head back towards the ceiling again. “Yes,” you whispered.

Joel moved a little closer, and you felt your body dip towards him from his weight against the mattress. His hand resting over yours traveled down your arm, and under the sheet.

“By your own hand then,” he said it more like a statement than a question.

You felt your heart beat out of your chest, as something in the air between you shifted. Underneath the covers your body burned. Sucking in a breath, you held it for a moment before you nodded.

“Show me.”

His hand grazed over your waist, fingers dancing over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of your panties. You reveled in it, his touch, his proximity, his gentle kiss to your shoulder. You looked at him, searched his face for any indication that he was just messing with you.

“No? Ain’t feelin’ it?” He’d watched you too, you realized.

He withdrew his hand from your waist, and you panicked, “No!”

He stopped, instead hovering his hand over your body. “No, you ain’t feelin’ it, or no, don’t stop?” he asked you.

You panicked again. “Yes!” you said before your eyebrows met in a furrow, “I-I’m sorry, this isn’t very sexy.”

Joel withdrew his hand from your body, and your disappointment sank like a rock in water, but then he cupped your jaw and you forgot to breathe.

“Forget about sexy, sweetheart,” he told you, a calloused thumb rubbing against your skin, “not that you ain’t sexy– you are, but I need you to relax, okay?”

You nodded, and a smile spread wide across his face,

“Good girl.”

You almost mewled at the praise, and he noticed, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

“You liked that, huh?” he teased, rubbing his thumb softly over your lower lip, “Y’like being a good girl for me?”

You found it hard to think with him so close, breathless when he touched you like this. You nodded slowly; moony eyes fixated on him. Like a reflex, your legs rubbed together under the sheets, aching to relieve the pressure building.

“You’re so sweet, baby– and shy,” his voice was low, like he was afraid someone would hear him. Slowly he leaned closer, pressing the softest kiss to your neck. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.

You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, teeth nipping as he pressed kiss after kiss to your sensitive skin. “You make my cock so fuckin’ hard.”

“Joel,” you finally choked out, a wet patch already soiling your panties.

“Yes?” he took your earlobe in his mouth, gently biting down on it before letting it go. You couldn’t think – at least not about something that wasn’t Joel and his touch.

“P-please kiss me?” you tried, your hand landing on his shoulder.

His breath puffed against your skin in a small chuckle, before he lifted his face from his new home in the crook of your neck. He found your blown out face, watching you with a tenderness in his eye. A beat passed and then he leaned closer, brushing his lips over yours. Your hand on his shoulder followed his neck to cup his face, keeping him close to you. His hand pushed gently at the sheets, revealing your upper body to him. The kiss was tender and slow, your noses pressed together. He pulled you apart and then put you together again. One of his hands trailed along the hem of your – his – t-shirt where he pushed at the fabric, bunching it just below your breasts. You broke apart.

“Was that all you wanted, sweet girl? Just a kiss?” His forehead touched your own, words low and taunting. You slowly shook your head, eyes still locked with Joel’s. His hand moved methodically, trailing down your stomach until it reached…

Your breath hitched in your throat.

“No?” he asked with a teasing grin, “What do you want then, sweetheart?”.

He already knew. His open palm cupped you over your soaked panties, the breadth of it pressing firmly down on your clit. You mewled under him, hips bucking up to meet his hand.

“Nah-ah,” he lifted his head from your forehead, dark eyes boring into yours. “You need to show me.”

Joel had started a dangerous fire inside of you. It lapped at your insides, burned away your insecurities, and replaced them with lust. With a shaky hand, your hand found Joel’s. His eyes were still locked on you – his gaze burning your cheek and branding you his.

“There you go,” he praised, letting you guide his hand up and down your clothed cunt, feeling your arousal seep through the fabric, “good girl.”

You guided him to your clit, pressing the pads of his finger down on it in tight circles. You were so sensitive – on edge since you watched him filming earlier – a small moan fell from your lips.

“Feels good doesn’t it, baby, getting your clit rubbed.”

“Yes…” Joel drew another moan from you.

Your grip around his hand loosened, and Joel took over. With a practiced hand he circled his fingers just right. He started with a steady pace and tight circles, before he put more pressure on your aching bud. He was bringing you closer and closer to the edge, coaxing small whimpers and breathy moans from your lips as you got more and more lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

“Have you ever fingered yourself, sweetheart?” he asked you, dipping his hand beneath your panties. A bold finger ran through your folds, a finger teasing at your entrance.

Your front teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite down to suppress a moan. It was hard to concentrate on what he was asking you when he was touching you like that.

“Y-yes, but…” you trailed off, feeling his finger, now coated in your arousal, back on your clit. It made your brain go blank.

“But what, sweet girl?” he pulled his hand from your panties, and you whined.

A wet trail followed him up your stomach. When you made no move to answer, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Leaning closer he pressed a short but tender kiss to your lips; his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow.

“It’s too messy,” you said when he pulled back, shaking your head.

“Yeah? You’ve got a messy pussy, sweetheart?”

Joel leaned down again, pressing soft fluttering kisses down your throat. When he reached the collar of your shirt, he pulled at the fabric, exposing your collarbone to his kisses. Your hands found his hair, tethering you to the moment.

“Yes,” you whispered, heat burning your cheeks at the confession he pulled from you.

With a wide grin, Joel sat up. His fingers found the hem of your shirt. He helped you pull it over your head, exposing your naked chest to him. Not even a second later he was back to kissing his way down your body, worshiping you with every press. You burned under him, every kiss like a small death.

Shifting on the bed, he settled between your legs. His mustache tickled the skin on your tummy, making you giggle. You felt Joel’s smile against your skin, at the sound of your fluttering laugh. He let his lips brush over your skin, trailing downwards to the top of your panties where he pressed a kiss, teeth pulling at the small bow like you were a present to be unwrapped, before his fingers hooked around the elastic. With a lift of your hips, you let him pull off your panties. The wet spot in the center clung to your cunt, as he peeled them off.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “wanna taste you, baby, wanna taste that messy pussy.”

With his fingers back on your cunt, you jumped a little under his touch. The air filled with a slick sound of your arousal as he ran them through your folds, a finger teasing your entrance.

“Relax for me baby,” he soothed, gently pressing kisses to the soft skin of your inner thigh, “I’ll take care of you.”

Looking down at him between your legs, you let yourself go. His eyes bored into yours. Warmth and lust, and nothing but affection behind them.

You nodded, “Please.”

A wide grin blossomed across Joel’s face as he leaned down, hovering just above your clit. He ducked forward, pressing the softest kiss to your clit, taking it slow and easing you into it with slow licks. You couldn’t help the whimpers escaping you, a needy sound desperate for more – more Joel. He pinned you down with his arm splayed over your tummy, keeping you right where he wanted you, turning you into a withering moaning mess under him.

Joel continued exploring you with his tongue. Changing between flicking and lapping at your clit, circling it just right, and wrapping his lips around it, giving it gentle sucks. He lapped at your folds, the hook of his nose catching on your clit as he tasted you properly. You felt yourself pushed closer and closer towards the edge, coxed by Joel.

Two careful fingers spread you apart, gliding up and down, coated in your arousal. He easily found your entrance to push a finger carefully inside. You felt yourself clench down on him; you couldn’t help it. You were so sensitive and so close. Dropping your mouth open, a breathy moan escaped.

“Oh, fuck,”

Joel hummed against your pussy, the vibrations traveling straight to the coil tightening in your tummy. Slowly, he started thrusting his finger inside, rewarded by a slick sound, telling him just how wet and desperate you were for him. With a moan your head rolled back into the pillow – you were so close.

“Joel,” you panted.

His tongue continued his assault on your clit, and you lost yourself in him. You clamped down on his finger with every thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Joel was so focused on you, so attentive, so responsive. Between your legs he drank in every twist of pleasure and whimpering moan.

“Joel,” you panted again.

“You’re gonna come for me aren’t you, sweetheart? Be a good girl and make a mess on my face.” he coaxed.

Joel quickly withdrew his finger to slip in another, and the new stretch had your legs shaking. His tongue circled your clit, sucking it with just the right amount of pressure. Underneath him you squirmed, breathy moans hitching in your throat.

“Oh, god,”

You couldn’t answer him. Couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t take it anymore.

With a silent cry, you came. His strong arm over your tummy held you down, as you twitched against the mattress, legs shaking. You’d never felt anything like this before. A pleasure so all-consuming you couldn’t remember your name, or where you were – only Joel. He helped you through it. His fingers kept up their pace, pads brushing right up against that spot of bliss, as you clenched down hard around them. You gripped the sheets, desperate for a lifeline as you came down.

Joel slowed down his fingers, pressing soft kisses to your clit. Your pleasure turning to overstimulation – now you definitely couldn’t take it anymore. Fragile and sensitive, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.

He let you push him around, his lips finding the inside of your thighs instead, where his mustache teased the sensitive skin. With one last kiss, Joel pulled away. You almost didn’t register the dip in the mattress as he laid down beside you. You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a post-orgasm-cloud.

“Joel, shit, I…” you tried to speak, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

“I know, sweetheart,” Joel answered. He pulled you closer, wrapping a hand around you. Slowly, you turned to your side, engulfed in Joel’s embrace.

“D-did you want to–”

You could feel the presence of his hard clothed cock pressed against your ass, but his big safe arms around you told you a different story. He nosed at the back of your neck, pressing fluttering kisses to the skin, making goosebumps erupt.

“No, darlin’, not tonight,” his voice was just above a whisper, the bass vibrating against your ear.

“Are you sure? I-I mean– we can if you want to,” you spluttered. He’d just given you the best orgasm in your life, he shouldn’t have to go to bed without one for himself.

“Not tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “It’s been a long day– I’m tired, you’re tired… let’s just sleep, my sweet girl.”

“S-should we talk about this?” you asked, your hand slipping into his, pressing it against your naked chest.

“In the mornin’,” he hummed, voice coated in sleep.

With heavy eyelids, you fell asleep in Joel’s arms. The safety of being wrapped up in him, lulled you into a peaceful slumber. The motel bed was hard and uncomfortable, and the pillow thin and flimsy, but it didn’t matter in Joel’s arms.

Morning came too quickly, and with a screeching sound of an alarm clock that pulled you from heaven. Jolting awake behind you, Joel groaned. His hands slipped from your body; the warmth exchanged with prickling goosebumps. You shifted over on your back, watching as Joel turned off the alarm. The beeping stopped, and with a tired grunt Joel laid down back beside you. When he looked at you – his tired eyes glinting – a sleepy smile pulled at his lips.

“Mornin’,”

“Good morning, Joel” you smiled back.

“It is a good mornin’, isn’t it?” he hummed, turning on his side.

You mirrored him, shifting closer and resting your head on his pillow. He snaked a hand over the dip in your waist, big hand splaying over your naked back.

“It is,” you agreed, locking eyes with him.

Rubbing in slow circles, his hand on your back was soothing. You reveled in it, reveled in Joel, in the bliss of being so close to him. You shifted even closer, resting your forehead to his chest.

“You should probably fire me,” you mumbled into his skin, “I’ve been extremely unprofessional.”

A chuckle came from deep inside Joel, it vibrated through his skin, where you felt it under your fingertips.

“I ain’t firin’ my best employee,” he laughed, placing a dry kiss to the top of your head.

You pulled away with a frown, head back on your own pillow. “This is like the cliché of clichés, Joel– sleeping with your assistant…”

In the bright light of the day, you cursed yourself for your late-night moment of weakness. You’ve never done anything like this before. What if this will be all that Joel wants from you from now on? You don’t think your heart could take it if it was.

Joel’s laugh died in his throat, his eyebrows meeting in a frown. “Who said anything about sleepin’ with my assistant?”

Your eyes widened with mortification. Shit. A hand came up to rub at your face, as you sat up, pulling the sheets around you.

“Hey, no, sweetheart,” Joel grabbed at your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

You couldn’t look at him – afraid tears would push behind your eyes. He’s a pornstar, what were you thinking? You were just a girl. A girl to warm his bed for a night. How could you put your job on the line for something like this?

The sheets rustled as he shifted closer, “Please, lay down, I need to talk to you.”

“Joel, I-I’m sorry– w-we can just forget about it– I’ll quit, don’t worry about it– me, don’t worry about me,” you stuttered out, your back still turned.

“I ain’t forgettin’ about nothin’, sweetheart– shit, d’you think I do this often?”

His question made you turn around. He was propped up on his elbow, carefully watching you.

You nodded, and he sighed.

“It’s been years since I’ve slept with someone outside of work,” he confessed, “Shit, I don’t even seek it out, I ain’t interested in it.”

“I-I’m sorry Joel, I–” you started, but he cut you off,

“You’re not listenin’,” he shook his head, “what I’m sayin’ is: I wanna sleep with you.”

Your face scrunched up in a confused frown, “Because I’m someone from work?”

Joel let out a breathless chuckle, “No, sweetheart, ‘s because I think you’re beautiful.”

His words almost didn’t register.

“What?”

This time his laugh is loud and golden, coated in happiness. He pulled at your hand, and you fell, your back hitting the sheets.

“You are…” he emphasized, cupping your cheek, and guiding you back in his embrace. “And you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you? But so smart, and kind, and caring– someone you can’t help but fall in love with.”

“Fall in love with?” you repeated, you couldn’t believe what he was telling you.

“Yeah, sweet girl,” he smiled at you, all teeth, and crinkles around his eyes in the morning light.

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” he laughed, guiding your face closer to his, his lips brushing over yours, “wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

His kiss stole your breath and twisted you up inside. He licked at the seam, and you opened yourself to him. He licked into your mouth, one arm snaked around your body, drawing you closer, pulling whine after desperate whine from you and stealing your breath.

Landing on your hip, his hand traveled downwards – over the thick of your thigh, and down the inside in smooth motions. He tugged on your leg, pulling it to rest over his hip, his hard cock rutting into your bare heat. His kiss got more desperate; his tongue melded with yours. It was hot, and dizzying and all-consuming all at the same time.

You grinded against him, feeling his hard cock against you. The fabric of his underwear caught on your clit, rubbing it just right, your arousal darkening the fabric. You moaned into his mouth, a desperate need for Joel building deep in your stomach.

With a rut of his hips, he broke away from your kiss. “You want me to fill up this perfect little pussy, don’t you baby?” His hand on your cheek disappeared between your bodies.

“Yes,” you tried to say, but the words got stuck in your throat when you felt the head of Joel’s cock rub up and down your folds. Your heavy breathing, the slick sound of your arousal the only sound in the room.

“Listen’ baby, y’hear how wet you are for me?” he whispered in awe, the head of his cock caught on your clit. You braced yourself with a hand to his shoulder, breathy pants the only sounds leaving your lips.

“You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” he chuckled. He let go of the grip around his cock, the sound of it slapping against his stomach obscene. A beat later he swiped his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal before drawing tight circles to your clit.

Your face squeezed shut in pleasure, your fingers dug into his shoulder. He eased a finger inside, before he quickly pulled out and added another. The stretch of his fingers was easy, your arousal dripping over his knuckles as he thrusted them inside with ease.

You grinded down on his hand, meeting his thrusts, forcing his fingers deeper inside. Always so attentive, Joel curled his fingers where they hit your spot perfectly, just like he’d done last night. A breathy squeal fell from your lips.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” he egged you on.

“Joel, please,” you panted. Sparks traveled through your body, collecting in a pit in your stomach where it coiled in on itself, aching for release.

He curled his fingers again, and hit your spot – his palm snug against your throbbing clit, “Fuckin’ perfect you are, darlin’, so tight and wet around my fingers.”

“Shit,”

He pushed you straight for the edge, your walls fluttered around his fingers. Your panting got heavier, your eyes squeezed shut, you’re so close. Joel chuckled, his breath puffing your face and he… pulled away.

You whined at the emptiness, opening your eyes to see him staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

He cupped your jaw, “Poor baby,” he pouted before he pulled you in for a kiss. You sighed into him, desperate to feel him anyway he wanted.

“Turn around,” he ordered against your lips, his hand letting go of your jaw to tap at the top of your hip.

You did as he told you, turning around in his hold to press your ass against him, feeling his hard cock pressed against you. Behind you, you heard him let out a deep and guttural groan. His hand hooked under your thigh, lifting it to your chest and exposing your wet and desperate cunt for him. You let him manhandle you into the position he wants, trusting him to know what’ll feel the best.

He guided the tip of his cock through your soaked folds coating it in your arousal before grazing it over your throbbing clit.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear, like a hiss. He lined himself up with your entrance, teasing you, and himself.

“I-I need it, Joel, please,” you begged, a hand clinging to the sheets.

“Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need this big cock to fill you up?” he asked, pushing just the tip inside.

“Joel, please, please,” you whimpered, almost a squeak. In one fluid motion he pushed inside, burying himself to the hilt inside you. The stretch of him was overwhelming, but the angle had you seeing stars.

“Ah– fuck,” you cried, your eyes immediately squeezing shut. Your hand searched for his where it held your leg to your chest. You needed to anchor yourself to him, afraid you’d fall apart right there and then.

“You alright sweetheart?” you heard him whisper in your ear, and you nodded slightly, “Feel good?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered, mouth dipping open in pleasure.

Behind you he groaned into your ear, cursing in hushed whispers. “That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, takin’ all that cock inside,” he pulled out nearly all the way, taking his time with it, moving with practiced motions.

“Shit,” you mewled as he bottomed out inside for the second time. Grinding against your ass, he pushed himself as deep as he possible could – you felt him in your fucking stomach, he was so deep.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he told you, pulling out and thrusting back inside.

Picking up the pace, Joel started fucking into you deep and hard. With each grind of his hips against your ass, with every thrust, he made sure to bury his thick cock as deep inside as he could, angling his cock expertly so the head rubbed up against your spot. Behind you he grunted and moaned in your ear. It was sweaty and hot, and sticky between your legs.

He let go of your leg, ordering you to press it to your chest, as his hand traveled downwards to brush his fingers over your throbbing clit.

“Joel,” you mewled. He pulled a symphony of whimpers and moans from you with every thrust.

“This pussy’s so fuckin’ tight– shit,” he panted in your ear, “You’re so good for me baby, takin’ that cock so well.”

His fingers pressed down on your clit, drawing tight circles, pushing you towards the edge of bliss. You squirmed against him, hips meeting his with every thrust as you start to chase your fast approaching orgasm.

“Need you to come for me, sweetheart– squeeze that cock like a good girl.”

“Joel,” you cried and let go. Your walls fluttered around his cock as you came, back arching off his chest, as your body squirmed and shook in his arms. Breathy gasps and pathetic whimpers left your lips as he kept up his unrelenting pace, fucking you through it, and prolonging your high.

You were far away. Blissed and fucked out as you came down from your moment of ecstasy. Behind you Joel’s grunts bordered on desperate, as his thrusts started to become sloppy.

“Shit, sweetheart– m’close, so fuckin’ close.”

“Come for me Joel,” you pleaded.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he pulled out.

His hand was on you in an instance, pushing you to your stomach as he turned you around. He knelt over you, fisting his cock desperately. Turning your head, you pushed off the bed to look over your shoulder where you found his eyes, locking them with his. Joel came with a guttural moan, the muscles in his stomach tightening and loosening as he coated your ass in his cum. It was hot and sticky on your back, feeling it drip slowly down the side of your waist.

“God damn,” he breathed out through a chuckle. His breath was heavy, like he’d just climbed ten stories.

You turned to your side to look up at him properly. He looked beautiful; his hair messy from sleep, broad chest heaving, a content smile pulling at his lips as you gave him a smile.

“Took the words straight out of my mouth.”

i hope you liked this! part two -> here

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #dom!joel miller #the last of us smut #tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #inexperienced!reader #70s AU

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doyoulikethissong-poll · 9 months ago

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Fatboy Slim - Praise You 1999

"Praise You" is a song by British big beat musician Fatboy Slim, and was released as the third single from his second studio album, You've Come a Long Way, Baby (1998). It reached number one on the UK Singles Chart and in Iceland, number four in Canada, number six in Ireland, and number 36 in the US. A total of six samples are used in the song. The song features a prominent vocal sample from the opening of "Take Yo' Praise" by Camille Yarbrough, as well as a prominent piano sample from the track "Balance and Rehearsal" from a test album entitled Sessions released by audio electronics company JBL in 1973. That recording session was for "Captain America", sung by Hoyt Axton; a snippet of Axton's vocals humming the "Captain America" melody can be heard in the album version of "Praise You." "Praise You" also features a guitar sample from the opening of "It's a Small World" from the Disneyland Records-released album Mickey Mouse Disco, the theme from the cartoon series Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids, the electric piano riff from "Lucky Man" by Steve Miller Band, and the drum beat from "Running Back To Me" by Tom Fogerty. In a 2021 interview with the website WhoSampled, Yarbrough said that she liked "Praise You" and its use of her vocals, feeling that Cook kept the essence of "Take Yo' Praise".

The accompanying video for "Praise You" was directed by Spike Jonze with Roman Coppola. Jonze starred in the film, under the pseudonym Richard Koufey, along with a fictional dance group: The Torrance Community Dance Group. The video intro described it as "A Torrance Public Film Production". The video was shot guerrilla-style – that is, on location without obtaining permission from the owners of the property – in front of puzzled onlookers outside the Fox Bruin Theater in Westwood, Los Angeles, California. In the video, a heavily disguised Jonze and the dance group, acting as a flash mob, dance to "Praise You", much to the chagrin of a theatre employee who turns off their portable stereo.

The video reportedly cost only US$800 to produce. It won three major awards at the 1999 MTV Video Music Awards: Breakthrough Video, Best Direction, and Best Choreography. It was also nominated for, but did not win, Best Dance Video. In 2001, it was voted number one of the 100 best videos of all time, in a poll to mark the 20th anniversary of MTV.

"Praise You" received a total of 80,6% yes votes! Previous Fatboy Slim polls: #12 "Weapon of Choice".

youtube

#finished #high votes #high yes #90s #fatboy slim #english #o1 #o1 sweep #lo34

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xtra7s · 1 year ago

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𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟 (𝗪𝗟𝗪) ──── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee and Y/N got casted as lovers in a new show

Content: Renee Rapp x Fem!Reader, G!P!Renee, penatration sex, alcohol

Word Count: 1.5k

masterlist | part 2

In the bustling city of Los Angeles, two talented individuals were about to embark on a thrilling journey that would forever change their lives. Renee Rapp, a celebrated popstar and actor, was known for her enchanting performances that captivated audiences worldwide. Y/N, a rising starlet, had recently made a name for herself with her remarkable acting skills.

Fate had brought them together unexpectedly as they were cast as co-stars in a groundbreaking lesbian show, “Unveiling Hearts.” The series aimed to celebrate diverse love stories and break barriers, resonating deeply with a very gay fanbase.

From the moment they met during the first script reading, sparks flew between Renee and Y/N. However, their connection wasn’t just limited to their on-screen chemistry. They both sensed an undeniable tension that lingered beneath the surface, threatening to unravel even the most composed of scenes.

As the filming progressed, the tension between the two actresses grew more palpable. Their characters’ love story mirrored the intensity of their own hidden desires, making it increasingly challenging to distinguish fiction from reality. The lines between acting and genuine emotions began to blur.

One evening, after a particularly intense scene, Renee invited Y/N to her trailer to practice a moment they were about to film the next day. The air was thick with unspoken desires as they found themselves slightly drunk on boxed wine, alone in the intimate space. The trailer’s dim lighting and the sound of raindrops against the windows added to the charged atmosphere.

The soft hum of distant music filled the air as they settled onto a plush couch, both feeling a subtle excitement hanging in the atmosphere.

The two had been practicing for quite some time, deciding to chill out for a bit. However, there was an unspoken tension lingering between them. A connection that had subtly shifted, leaving a delicate anticipation in its wake.

As they sat side by side, Renee couldn't help but steal glances at Y/N. The gentle flicker of the candles played on Y/N's face, casting a soft glow that highlighted their features. Renee's heart raced as she felt a magnetic pull towards Y/N, a longing that had been building over time.

Y/N, sensing the shift in the air, turned to meet Renee's gaze. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, it felt as if the world around them had faded away. The conversation paused, replaced by a silent understanding that something was about to change.

Renee's hand found its way to Y/N's, fingers intertwining as they shared a shy smile. The touch sent a wave of warmth through both of them, breaking down the barriers that had kept their feelings hidden.

The room seemed to shrink as they inched closer, drawn by an invisible force. Renee's hot breathe lingering on Y/Ns lips, creating a delicate dance of shared anticipation. It was a moment suspended in time, filled with the unspoken promise of something beautiful.

And then, with a soft and genuine tenderness, their lips met. It was a gentle kiss, filled with the unspoken emotions that had lingered between them for so long. Time seemed to stand still as they explored the sweetness of that shared connection.

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and their inhibitions melted away. Their bodies moved in sync, fueled by a passion that had long been suppressed.

The initial kiss ignited a spark between Renee and Y/N, and as they pulled away, there was a shared, unspoken agreement that they both wanted more. The atmosphere in the room shifted, charged with a newfound intensity that neither of them could ignore.

Without breaking eye contact, Renee cupped Y/N's face with a gentle touch, her thumb tracing soft circles on Y/N's cheek. Y/N reciprocated by running their fingers through Renee's hair, a silent encouragement that spoke volumes. The air was filled with a mix of anticipation and desire as they closed the gap between them once again.

Their second kiss was more rough, a testament to the emotions that had been building up between them. Lips moved in sync, exploring the uncharted territory of each other's mouths. It was a dance of passion and vulnerability, a language only they understood.

Renee's heart raced, feeling the warmth of Y/N's body pressed against hers. The couch beneath them became a haven, a place where time seemed to slow down as they lost themselves in the shared rhythm of their kisses. The soft sounds of their breaths, the gentle sighs, and the occasional quiet giggle filled the room.

As the intensity of their embrace deepened, Renee's hands traced the contours of Y/N's back, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. Y/N, in turn, explored the landscape of Renee's shoulders, fingers dancing delicately along her skin. Every touch communicated a depth of connection that went beyond mere physicality.

The world outside seemed to fade away as they continued their intimate exchange, wrapped up in the blissful cocoon of their shared affection. Time became irrelevant as they surrendered to the magnetic pull drawing them closer.

Y/N's hand rested on top of Renee's thigh, squeezing gently before slowly sliding upward towards her inner thigh. Their fingers traced delicate circles around the hem of her shorts, teasingly brushing against her sensitive skin. Renee bit her lower lip nervously, squirming slightly in anticipation of what was coming next.

"Are you sure about this?" she whispered out, her voice trembling with uncertainty mixed with excitement. Y/N nodded reassuringly, their thumb rubbing circles on the exposed flesh above her knee.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," Y/N replied confidently, her eyes locked onto hers. Their lips crashed together hungrily, tongues dancing wildly in each other's mouths as they became more bold in their movements. Their hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring every curve and dip until finally, Y/N reached beneath Renee's shirt and pushed it upwards, exposing her boobs to the cool air.

Renee gasped softly as Y/N cupped one breast in her palm, massaging it gently while sucking on her neck and chest. Her nipples hardened instantly under the attention, standing erect and begging for more stimulation. Y/N's fingers fumbled with the clasp holding her bra in place, finally freeing both breasts from their confines. They began to knead and tweak them roughly, causing Renee to arch her back into the touch.

"Oh fuck, Y/N" she moaned, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Renee's hands found their way beneath Y/N's tank top, running upwards along their torso until reaching her navel. She circled it slowly at first, savoring the sensation of skin on skin before working her way upwards to cup Y/N's breasts as well.

Their bodies continued to move together rhythmically, their hips grinding against each other in sync with their passionate kisses. Y/N's hand reached down between them, her hand leading between Renee's thigh. With a grin against Renee's lips, She pushed her hand under Renee's shorts, gasping into Renee's mouth when she feels her hard cock and the precum covering the tip.

"Is this all for me, pretty?"

Y/N worked off Renee's shorts and boxers, taking off the rest of her clothes after Renee. Between Renee's legs, Her erect member rubbing against Y/Ns thigh as she sits on Renee's lap. "Tell me you want this too," Renee panted, her breath hot against her ear lobe.

"Please, Renee" Y/N managed to choke out as she kisses Y/N, her voice hoarse with desire. Renee kissed Y/N passionately, "Tell me if you want to stop" She whispers, before slowly pushing inside Y/N, sinking inside of her and stretching her out to fit her cock. Y/N moaned out in both pain and pleasure as Renee continued to move deeper inside her, filling every inch of her up.

Once fully inside, Renee began to thrust her hips rhythmically, hitting all the right spots within Y/N's body. Their hips rocked in unison, generating a wet slapping sound that reverberated throughout the room. Their bodies were now covered in sweat, evidence of their intense fucking.

Y/N gripped onto Renee's shoulders tightly, her nails digging into their skin as she struggled to find a stable place to put her hands amidst the waves of ecstasy coursing through her body. Her moans turned into high-pitched whimpers as orgasm after orgasm washed over her, leaving Y/N's body shaking uncontrollably.

Renee, also feeling her own climax rapidly approaching, picked up the pace, thrusting faster and harder than before. Their breathing became more labored, their bodies slapping against each other in sync with each powerful thrust.

Y/N leaned up, kissing Renee sloppily as she pounds into her, "I'm close... I'm cumming..." Renee moaned, her voice hoarse with desire. At the same time, Y/N yelled out her own release, her juices coating both of them liberally. Renee pulled out, cumming on Y/N's thigh as they continued to move together until their orgasms subsided, panting heavily as they came down from their shared high.

Finally, they collapsed on top of each other, their bodies entwined in a mess of sweat and fluids. "you're something special," Renee smiled, leaning up as she left soft kisses on Y/N's neck, smiling up at her as they held each other.

#lesbian #wlw #leighton murray x reader #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #leighton murray #the sex lives of college girls #lgbtq #lesbians #g!p #g!p Reneé rapp #reneé rapp #i’m so gay help

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ch33z3grits · 11 days ago

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Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

summary: The usually reserved and responsible Camille DeWaterson celebrates her sister's final moments as a free woman in the streets of New Orleans . After stumbling into a club that promised temptation and decadence, she’s drawn into the clutches of a true predator who wants more than a simple dance. Terry Richmond, a vampire with unimaginable power and connections, has used his club to draw in unsuspecting victims for decades. But when he gazes upon Camille DeWaterson, an obsession immediately begins. And he doesn’t want to just feed and fuck. He desires something much more sacred and permanent.

warnings: 18+, dark romance, obsessiveness/possessiveness, mentions of drugs (weed) and alcohol, intoxication, mentions of sexual acts, graphic violence, AAVE, light smut? (dry humping)

word count: 7,258

glossary:

Indulgences: human beings that vampires deem romantically and sexually desirable

The Veil: the dark magic that enhances supernaturals’ ability to manipulate the human world

Ambrosia: an aphrodisiac and euphoric substance that makes humans more open to the propositions of supernaturals

Camille's song: Drugs-UPSAHL | Terry's song: She-Tyler, The Creator

Pt. One

Camille

Camille DeWaterson was beginning to have doubts about letting loose for her sister’s bachelorette party. As she looked at the lacy outfit her sister demanded she wear, Camille inwardly groaned, thinking that nothing good would come from tonight. Just as Camille was about to step away from the full length mirror, her sister came behind her and looked at her through the mirror with big, drunken puppy dog eyes.

“Pleaseeee, CamCam,” Chloe DeWaterson slurred, snaking her arms around her sister’s waist. “Remember, you promised me.” Camille sighed. She did promise her sister that she would leave her responsible, goodie-two-shoes nature in Houston so she could fully enjoy the revelry of their seven days in New Orleans. For the first two days, she had been able to unwind during the spa trip, the wine tasting, and the afternoon tea. But as the girls’ night approached, her relaxed attitude began to fade.

As the eldest daughter of the DeWaterson family, Camille was raised with one clear expectation: perfection. Her father drilled into her the importance of a flawless social image, and to earn his approval, she shaped her life around his vision of what was best for her. As a top student at her prestigious boarding school in Virginia, Camille had secretly longed to attend the charter school back in her Georgia hometown. She enrolled at the University of Texas to be closer to the boy her father had chosen as her future husband, despite begging him for permission to attend Spelman. Camille dutifully attended social events alongside other women, all of them under pressure to climb the social ladder—though those gatherings often left her with little time for the friends who truly understood her. Since she could remember, Camille had been striving to uphold her Black American Princess image, a role she knew all too well but one that often left her feeling unfulfilled.

In contrast, her sister Chloe was constantly rebelling. She dropped out of Dartmouth to pursue fashion school in New York City, ran off to Los Angeles to live with her ex-boyfriend, and once stripped naked and leapt into a fountain at a charity event their mother had organized. Chloe embodied the essence of a free spirit, her laissez-faire attitude both something Camille admired and envied. Yet, despite her rebelliousness, Chloe still allowed their father to shape the most important aspects of her life—including her marriage. In an effort to refine her image, Colin DeWaterson Sr. orchestrated his daughter’s marriage to Simon Chazal, a longtime family friend. He argued it would offer Chloe the stability she needed, while also providing him the coveted connection to a wealthy Creole family—something he’d been angling for since moving the family to New Orleans when Camille was a sophomore in high school.

Although Chloe fussed for months about the arrangement, she eventually agreed once Simon voiced his true feelings for her. Chloe didn’t feel the same romantically, but she deeply cared for the man who was one of her closest childhood friends. She knew he would never hurt her, and he always supported her creative outlets. Besides, denying the union would put Chloe’s inheritance in jeopardy. And even though she was doing more than fine financially with her clothing line and YouTube channel, she had grown accustomed to a lifestyle that only a DeWaterson fortune could support.

So, she was getting married in two days to a man she didn’t love in the middle of her 20s. Although she had accepted her fate, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Chloe was determined to have a bachelorette party that she would never forget.

Full of decadence, empty of decorum.

And to make that happen, she made her good girl older sister promise to do everything she said. Which is why Camille was wearing a racy black catsuit that could double as a mosquito net.

“You look sooooo sexy, CamCam,” her sister continued, rubbing her cheek on Camille’s shoulder. Camille’s face grew hot as she stared at her reflection. She couldn’t deny that she looked like she had stepped out of a man’s fantasy. But how could she focus on the group’s wellbeing and make sure no one wandered off if she was constantly getting approached, which her outfit would no doubt cause. She looked around the room at the group of women who ranged in age from 24 to 27, carelessly pouring dark liquors down their throats and passing a perfectly rolled blunt between each other. As the 29 year-old, Camille felt compelled to be the protective, sober one for the night. The mom.

As if reading her mind, Chloe spun Camille around to face her. “Cam, I’m serious. You never get the chance to let go. Please just be tonight. We’re all grown. We’re not your responsibility.” Before Camille could protest, the rest of the bridal party chimed in with a variety of agreements, the loudest of which came from Camille’s best friend, Kali.

“Cammie baby, pleaseeeee throw that good girl shit out of the window. We love you for it, but it’s time for a break, sweetheart,” she exclaimed, passing her a shot of Don Julio. Camille took the small glass, feeling the weight of the expectant eyes watching her. Fuck it. When was the last time she was able to get drunk with her girls? In her picture perfect life, these opportunities didn’t come around often. So Camille took a deep breath and downed the shot, leading to an echo of cheers from the rest of the women in the room. Kali proceeded to pour chaser in her mouth as Chloe giggled in her ear. “Who knows, maybe you’ll meet a big, strong man you can ride. All. Night. Long.” Camille chuckled, playfully nudging her sister. She held up her left hand and shoved the heavy engagement ring in her sister’s face. “I’m pretty sure this’ll keep all the big, strong men away from me,” she fired back.

Chloe grinned, showing off an equally impressive engagement ring. “Well I guess I have to take this off because there’s no way I’m not getting any dick tonight.” Camille gasped while her sister just laughed, pulling her out of the room, the group making their way to their Uber Black.

Three hours later, Camille drunkenly stumbled through the streets with her friends, carefree and lost in the thrill of the night. After three daiquiris and four shots, she couldn't have cared less about anything beyond the present moment. Bouncing in and out of bars and clubs, she felt like she was on cloud nine, and there was no part of her that wanted to come down anytime soon.

“Oooooo, let’s go there next!” Chloe exclaimed, pointing to a building with traditional New Orleans architecture draped in Spanish moss. At first glance, the building itself looked unassuming. But the red lights pouring through the windows and entrances hinted that it was a club. And the line of people that snaked around the block hinted that it was a really popular club. One that they couldn’t possibly pass up. Chloe and her entourage headed towards the building. But the closer Camille got, the more something felt… off. An undeniable pull, a magnetic force drawing her toward the building. She didn’t mind it, not really; she was all for making a great night even better. But the strange sensation sent a shiver down her spine, heightening her senses and making her more alert than she’d been all evening. She tried to slow her steps, to pause for a moment to gather her thoughts, but her legs moved on their own, carrying her forward like she was being guided by some invisible hand, trailing behind her sister.

Three bouncers casually stood at the entrance, ignoring the pleas and bribes of the people at the front of the line. But their heads snapped towards them when Chloe approached.

“Excuse me,” Chloe started, turning on her signature innocent and coy act. “We don’t want to be unfair to everyone who’s been waiting, but do we have to stand in such a long line?” Chloe batted her lashes up at them, smoothing her hand over her white ‘Bride’ sash. The one closest to her leaned forward with a smirk, causing a soft gasp to ripple through the entire group.

He was beyond gorgeous. Deep dark skin, sparkling white teeth, a full beard, and expensive gold jewelry. Camille knew that her sister probably experienced love at first sight.

“A lady as pretty you should never have to wait for anything, and neither should your friends,” his Southern drawl rang through the air as he stared into Chloe’s soul. “But we got rules here, baby girl.”

Chloe visibly shuddered, stepping closer to the Adonis. “What do I– I-I mean, what do we have to do to get around these rules?” Chloe panted. The bouncer exchanged a look with the two others, who watched the group intensely… almost hungrily. His eyes shifted back to Chloe’s, glinting with something mischievous. “Tariq, you got any more of them special wristbands?” The bouncer on the far left pulled a set of wristbands from his pocket. They were such a bright red, they seemed to glow in the dark. He pulled a small bundle from his pocket and handed over seven. The lead bouncer looked back at all of them, his lips turning up to show off his perfect teeth. “Now I can get y’all in here right now with these wristbands, but y’all gotta understand that they come with a lot of responsibility. These are only for the ladies that can be the life of the party. Can y’all promise that?” The women nodded eagerly, but Camille’s nod carried some hesitation. The bouncer noticed, making a mental note that he would relay to his friends who were waiting inside.

“Anything for you, daddy,” Kali said, earning a sharp glare from Chloe. All three of the bouncers laughed at Kali's bold comment. “Well since that was such a convincing yes, all I need to see is some ID and y’all can go ahead. Be sure to put them wristbands on though… wouldn’t want to miss out on free drinks and plenty of company.”

The group squealed, practically throwing their driver’s licenses at the three men. They ignored the groans of protest from the people still waiting in line as they put on the red bands. Chloe excitedly moved towards the front door, but was stopped by a strong hand softly grabbing her arm. “One more thing,” the fine ass bouncer stated coolly.

“Yea, sure. Anything…” Chloe let out in a breathy tone. The man gave her a wicked smile. “Save me a dance, baby girl.” Chloe practically turned into a puddle. A shy, smiley puddle. “Yes, sir.” Chloe giggled softly, her gaze lingering on his. That was Camille’s cue to separate the two. She could see it in her sister’s eyes. She was five seconds away from letting that man bend her over in front of everyone. And she just couldn’t let something that scandalous happen on her watch.

The group descended down a wide, dimly lit staircase, its shadowy corners tightening around Camille’s nerves. But as they stepped into the heart of the club, her breath caught in her throat. The scene that unfolded before her was nothing short of electrifying. Red lights bathed the room in a seductive glow, casting sharp contrasts against the sleek black couches and the sea of gyrating bodies that seemed to go on for forever. Couples grinded against each other, lost in the pulse of the music, while women danced on every available surface, adding to the wild, carefree atmosphere. Bottle girls weaved through the crowd, effortlessly balancing trays of shots, bottles, and sparklers, contributing to the chaotic glamour of it all. The music throbbed through the air and vibrated through the walls and floor. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Camille knew she'd have to shout just to make herself heard. “Damn, we should’ve started here first,” Kali yelled, doing a 360 to get a full view of the place. Camille nodded, awe slowly replacing her unease.

Suddenly, a stunning bottle girl, who seemed to appear out of thin air, stood in front of the group with a tray full of shots. “Ladies, welcome to Crimson, and thank you for being our very special guests,” she spoke, momentarily glancing at their wristbands. “Can I interest you all in free ambrosia shots?” Something was off about her smile. It seemed too… eager. The alarm bells returned for Camille. Just as she was about to politely decline and guide the group to a more tame section of the club, Kali reached out and grabbed one. She downed it before Camille could object.

“Damn, this is good as fuck! You can’t even taste anything, it’s like juice!” She gave the rest of the bridal party an encouraging smile, before turning her attention back to the smirking bottle girl. “Can I get, like, two more of those?” She asked, already reaching for the tray again. The bottle girl smiled brightly. “Absolutely! And feel free to put any empty glasses back on the tray.”

Camille noticed the way she emphasized empty as the rest of the women reached for their own shot. Chloe threw her head back in a swift motion, a shocked look passing across her face. “There’s no way there’s alcohol in these,” she giggled, placing the empty shot glass on the tray and picking up another one. “Here, Camille, try one!”

Camille almost protested, her instincts screaming to back away. The vibe of the place had her on edge, and she didn’t trust the girl handing out free shots, her smile too wide, too mischievous. But then she remembered her promise to Chloe—and she couldn’t let her down. Camille took the shot from Chloe’s hand and threw it back, hoping the act would be enough to satisfy the bottle girl and move them along. But as the liquid burned its way down, something unexpected happened. The sweet strawberry and honey taste lingered and an insatiable craving for more swept over her. Without a second thought, she grabbed the last shot on the tray and sipped it greedily, the flavors dancing on her tongue. Within moments, a wave of euphoria crashed over her, sweeping away any remaining caution. Like a freight train, the carefree attitude she'd left behind the moment she stepped into Crimson hit her again—but this time, it wasn’t just cloud nine. Instead, she soared to cloud one hundred. Whatever she just drank was far beyond ordinary alcohol. But in that instant, Camille couldn’t have cared less. The rush, the high, it was too intoxicating to question. She was going to chase it, as far and as fast as it would take her.

The cackling of her friends began to fade as a new song caught her attention. It was sultry and fast-paced, and it beckoned her to the dance floor. Her legs carried her to the center of the club, directly under its beaming red lights, giving the crowds in the balcony levels a perfect view of her. And she let herself get carried away by the music. She didn’t know how long she danced for. She just knew that her waist, her ass, and her legs moved to everything that poured out of the speakers. She felt like a butterfly flying freely, untethered. Until two large hands gripped her waist, pulling her back into a broad, warm chest and a thick, long, twitching bulge.

Terry

Terry spotted her as soon as she entered his establishment, his dick immediately standing at attention. A lace-clad goddess who decided to grace the venue with her presence. Although she was leading a group of gorgeous women, her beauty outshone them all—no contest. Not even the shorter one who shared her skin tone and some of her features that she pulled along with her. Sisters, Terry concluded. Although the smaller one, clearly a bride-to-be, was meant to be the star—draped in a form-fitting white dress, crowned with a glittering tiara and veil, Terry’s eyes could only focus on the woman guiding her through the sea of people. He leaned forward in his seat on the fourth-level balcony, subtly tapping the two women on his lap to signal for them to move. They pouted and muttered as they reluctantly stood, but Terry’s attention remained fixed, unaware of their protests. His focus was entirely on the woman below, and he couldn’t look away.

“Boss, we got a few more Indulgences coming in right now. The best group of the night. But the one in the lace might be a problem. I think she can kinda see through The Veil.”

Terry didn’t bother to respond. There was always one human who felt a little more wary when they approached Crimson, the city’s most exclusive club and a hedonistic sanctuary for the wealthiest vampires in the country. It wasn’t uncommon for humans to be drawn to the club’s magnetic pull, an irresistible force that lured them in without them even knowing why. Most would fall victim to the allure, standing in outrageously long lines for the mere chance to step inside. But then there were the others—those with a natural wariness, a sharp intuition that hinted at the dark magic just beneath the surface. They could sense something off, something they couldn’t quite put their finger on, but it was enough to make them hesitate.

In those rare cases, Terry knew exactly what to do. If they were enticing enough for his clients, he made sure they got through the door and stayed for as long as he needed them to. After getting the heads-up from Jabari, Terry had already made his move. Amber, one of his most trusted bottle girls who frequently quenched his thirsts, was dispatched with a tray of ambrosia shots, ready to meet the group of women and pull them deeper into the club’s intoxicating web. A simple push, a little encouragement.

Terry observed as the group warily watched Amber. The first one to accept her offer was a thick, lighter woman with a bob who seemed to be full of personality. One by one, they consumed the golden liquid and he watched them all fall victim to the euphoric feeling that ambrosia brings about. The beauty who caught his eye was the last one to drink after some convincing from the soon-to-be bride. She gave her a weak smile and tossed it back, momentarily exposing her slender neck. Time seemed to slow as she gulped down the liquid, her tongue absentmindedly licking the remainder from her perfectly glossed lips. Terry groaned, imagining those same glossed lips wrapped around his length, leaving stains around his dick as she gagged around him. Fat tears spilling from her big, pretty eyes as he used a fistful of her hair to keep her in place and fuck her throat.

As his latest fixation reached for another shot, this time with enthusiasm, he mentally expressed satisfaction in Jabari’s picks for the night. The whole group exceeded the standards of what an Indulgence should be. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a few of his clients watching the group, their bright red wristbands giving them the greenlight to approach them. As the best supernatural sanctuary in the country, Terry had a reputation he had to maintain. And that included keeping a steady stream of the best Indulgences walking through the doors of Crimson.

The practice of supplying Indulgences had evolved quite a bit since Terry turned hundreds of years ago. In the old days, Indulgences, the breathtaking humans that were deemed desirable enough to feed from and fuck, were a rarity. The lack of modern technology and medical care led to most humans being sickly and in a constant state of survival. Therefore, Indulgences were limited, and most were often fought over or accidentally killed. But as the standard of living increased, they became more plentiful. Vampires noticed and began to invest heavily in the wellbeing of humans. Better farming techniques, improved access to education, innovations in science and technology. All of these things were investments vampires were willing to make so their precious humans would become better off. Now, it’s gotten to the point that Indulgences could be found anywhere. But they couldn’t be approached anywhere. Humans, especially women, were particularly cautious. They often denied the company of vampires in ordinary settings, and their denials were respected under supernatural law. So vampires like Terry had to create spaces that connected Indulgences with vampires, lowered their inhibitions, and motivated them to freely offer their veins, their bodies, and their hearts.

Crimson had been known for the best Indulgences since the 1940s and tonight, Jabari ensured that the reputation continued. Terry made a mental note to reward Jabari for his good judgment. His eyes continued to follow the pretty little thing as she made her way to the dance floor, her barriers lowering with every step she took. Once she got to the center of the club, Terry knew that all supernatural eyes were on her, so he spoke telepathically.

Mine.

One word was all it took, and instantly, everyone knew she was off-limits. Terry was more than just a club co-owner. He was a king in his own right, ruling an empire of power, wealth, and influence that stretched far beyond Crimson’s doors. Decades older than any vampire in the room, his presence commanded a respect that no one dared to question. He was one of the first to utilize The Veil, the arcane system of magic that allowed supernaturals to bend the mortal world to their will. Over the course of his long life, he had slaughtered countless creatures—vampires, goblins, lycans—all without a flicker of hesitation. He was a monster in the truest sense of the word, and only a fool would dare to challenge him.

So, as his clients swarmed the other women eagerly, Terry’s word hung in the air like an impenetrable shield. She remained untouched and unbothered, and no one would dare lay a finger on her.

As the mystery woman swayed seductively to the beat, Terry began his descent to the ground level of Crimson. Humans and supernaturals alike scurried out of his way as he stalked his unsuspecting prey. Growing closer to her, he watched as she threw her arms above her head, flaunting her red wristband. He smirked, knowing she had no idea what was in store for her. He stopped behind her, taking the time to appreciate her body and inhale her scent. Her Coke bottle shape was barely covered by the black lace outfit that showed off her black thong. Intoxicating notes of vanilla, jasmine, and lavender fluttered around her, making his mouth water.

Terry gripped her waist firmly, tugging her back into his chest and her ass into his hard on, causing her to gasp softly. She paused her sexy little whining to look at Terry, craning her neck to get a good view of his 6’3 frame. He smirked as her jaw dropped as she examined his face. Still in a euphoric haze, her eyes began to swirl with lust, awe, and need. Terry grinned down at her, wrapping his arms around her even tighter. She whimpered lightly, rubbing her ass against his print, causing a deep rumbling in his chest. He leaned down, placing his mouth next to her ear. “What’d you stop for, princess? You were giving me such a nice show,” he purred, licking the shell of her ear. A moan passed her pretty ass lips and her head lolled to the side, giving Terry full access to her neck. He chuckled, watching the light thump of her jugular under her skin.

“Come on, baby girl,” he groaned, tracing the major vein with his tongue. “I came all the way downstairs to dance with you, don’t stop now.” She giggled sweetly, looking back at him with a naughty glint in her eye. Then, she began to work her magic. Bending over and placing her hands on her thighs, she expertly rolled her hips to the music, grinding her plump ass further into his dick. Terry bit his lip at the sight, matching her sensual movements, the world disappearing around them. To Terry, it was only him and her left in existence. Twisting, grinding, and rolling against each other. As the song came to an end, she rose to lean back against him, peering at him over her shoulder. Terry decided that he let her have enough fun taking the lead. He had to show her he was a man of control. He spun her around to face him, pulling her dangerously close to him.

She gulped as he pressed the entirety of his covered length against her torso. Gripping her ass, he captured her mouth in a dominating kiss.

Camille

Camille’s breath hitched as the unreal stranger placed a heated kiss against her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth. If she were sober, she wouldn’t believe that she was making out with a random man whose name she didn’t even know. Especially a random man that looked like him. His broad, muscular frame loomed over her effortlessly, even with the four-inch heels adding height to her 5'7" stature. Dressed in sleek black slacks and a casual sweater, his ensemble was effortlessly cool, paired with two gold chains that gave him a smooth, 90s vibe. The combination of his honey-brown skin and understated wealth gave him an undeniable magnetism. The sweet, woody scent of his cologne washed over her senses, an intoxicating blend that mirrored the raw masculinity oozing from him. His dark hair was pulled back into neat cornrows, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the meticulously groomed facial hair that framed it. His full, luscious lips curled into a smile—slow, deliberate, and full of promise. And then there were his eyes. Those eyes. They were the kind that could pull you deeper under his spell with every glance. They promised nothing but a night fulfilling her most carnal desires.

A man this handsome could only be the devil.

His hands moved from her ass to her thighs as he effortlessly picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss never breaking. His tongue mercilessly sucked on hers, making her breathless and delirious. Camille tried her best to keep up with the man but he was insatiable. His lips skillfully moved over hers, making her eyes droop and heat pool in her most intimate areas. There was nothing she could do but submit to him and his passion. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lead the head-spinning exchange, which pulled the most lewd sounds from the back of her throat. He shifted her slightly in his arms, making his dick rub directly against her throbbing clit. “Fuck,” she yelped, throwing her head back at the burst of pleasure the movement gave her. The stranger didn’t stop his onslaught of kisses, his mouth nipping and sucking at her jaw, her neck, and her collarbone, continuing to grind his pelvis into hers. Camille sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a delicious tension build in her pussy. The man’s hands gripped further into her flesh and he chuckled in her ear. “If you keep making those pretty little sounds, I’m gonna make you nut on this dick all fucking night,” he growled before he shoved his tongue back into her mouth. His raunchy promise and dominating tongue sent Camille toppling over the edge. With a pathetic, needy moan into his mouth, she shuddered in his arms, a blinding orgasm rippling through her body.

He pulled away from her, watching as she convulsed in his arms. His eyes, which seemed to shift between steel blue and hazel green, stared directly into her soul, making another pitiful moan pass through her lips. As she slowly descended from her high, their gazes locked, their breath heavy and unsteady. In that moment, something passed between them. Something unspoken, something more profound than lust or two horny bodies grinding on a dancefloor. It was an electric undercurrent, too elusive to define, but too powerful to ignore. Was it tenderness? Devotion? Whatever it was, Camille felt it course through her like wildfire, a quiet intensity that seemed to vibrate in the air around them. And from the heat in his eyes, she knew he felt it too. That look, their connection—intense, undeniable—was all it took to jolt her back to reality.

This has gone way too far, Camille thought. She shook her head lightly, trying to break herself out of the trance she was under. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the gorgeous man she was clinging to. His eyebrows furrowed, his grip tightening as she attempted to get out of his hold.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?” His deep, rich voice asked her sincerely and she blinked slowly as her pussy throbbed, begging to be stuffed by the hard on that was still pressed into her crotch. Fuck, this was so wrong. She was a taken woman. “No, no you didn’t do anything wrong,” she smiled down at him shyly. “It’s just that… I-I shouldn’t have done this and I don’t want it to go too far.” He laughed.

“We’re grown, baby girl. What happens beyond this stays between us.” He stated, placing an open-mouthed kiss on her jaw, making her squirm against his bulge.

“That’s the thing,” she sighed, raising her left hand to display her ring. “An engaged woman shouldn’t have even let it get to this point.” The stranger’s hypnotizing eyes moved from hers to the band around her left ring finger, which he stared at for a second. Disappointment, and another feeling that she couldn’t place, flickered across his expression. Then his eyes shifted back to hers and he nodded in understanding, gingerly placing her back on her feet. He kept a hand on her waist, his confident smile returning. “Thanks for the dance, Ms…” his voice trailed off expectantly. Camille opened her mouth to respond, but was swiftly interrupted by her best friend’s yelling.

“Cam! Cam! Come on, we gotta go! Some weirdo tried to like, I don't know, eat Chloe!” Kali yelled frantically, tugging Camille. “What!? What are you talking about? Where is she?!” Camille ran behind Kali, completely abandoning her momentary lover. She and Kali ripped through the crowded dance floor and rushed to a set of stairs that led to the second story of the club. Chloe sat slumped against the banister, sobbing into her hands as the rest of the group and the bouncer from earlier tried to console her. “Chloe, baby are you okay?” Camille’s little sister shot up at the sound of her voice, throwing herself into her arms.

“Oh Cammie, it was awful,” she sobbed as Camille held her. “Some guy and I were dancing but he wanted me to do coke with him so I tried to get away from him. But then he started trying to fucking bite me and-and–” Chloe sobbed harder. Camille turned to the bouncer. “Where is he? Did he get away?” There’s no way the club would let him get away with something like that, right?

“No ma’am, we’ve got him in custody upstairs. He won’t be able to hurt anybody else.” He reassured Camille, but his eyes remained on Chloe.

“Cammie, I don’t want to stay here if he’s still here,” Chloe hiccuped, holding onto her sister tighter. Camille stroked her cheek, guilt consuming her. She should’ve stayed with her sister. She never should’ve wandered off! She wouldn’t have gotten hurt if she wasn’t getting tongued down by a man she just met.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to stay here any longer,” she sighed, kissing her sister's forehead. The fun, tipsy, and carefree Camille was gone. The rigid and responsible Camille returned as she ordered the rest of the bridal party to make their way to the entrance.

“Is everything alright over here?” The smooth, deep voice made Camille shiver. She knew who it belonged to immediately, but she refused to face him, embarrassed of how she behaved a few moments ago. He must've followed her when she ran with Kali. She could feel the heat rolling off of him, letting her know that he stood dangerously close to her. But she couldn’t focus on the Casanova that made her cum from simply grinding and kissing. She needed to focus on her sister.

“A patron tried to fee– bite one of the ladies in this group, boss. I rushed to help her once I heard screams. We got him upstairs,” the bouncer replied hurriedly, his eyes trained on the man behind Camille. He grunted in response.

“Ladies, I apologize for this encounter. Crimson takes great pride in vetting its patrons and it's unacceptable that a character like this slipped past us. He will be taken care of,” her mystery man spoke with authority. Camille glanced at him in shock as she rocked her sister, who was now only sniffling. Did he own this place? Who really was the man she dry fucked danced with tonight?

He gazed back at her for a moment, but turned his attention back to Chloe’s knight in shining armor. “Jabari, please escort these ladies out and ensure that we get them the best transportation back to their accommodations.” Jabari nodded, helping them get their bearings. As Camille prepared to turn on her heel, soft, thick lips quickly pressed against her cheek. “Get home safe.” The mystery man gave her one final glance before swiftly climbing the stairs. She stared after him, her heart, and her pussy, aching from the fact that she would never see him again.

Camille felt so disappointed in herself as Jabari ushered them into a sleek, black Cadillac Escalade. Her sister’s night was ruined because she slipped up and left her alone. She should’ve never let her guard down. She should’ve never taken those shots. And she definitely shouldn’t have given that man a dance. Because that’s all she could think about.

How her body molded into his. How she responded to his touch. How he gazed into her eyes. How wet she got for him. And that orgasm… she couldn’t even remember having one that good before… especially not with her fiancé. It felt as if she had found her soulmate, only to be torn away from him, her chest aching with every passing second.

Camille shook her head, a desperate attempt to clear her thoughts. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. Not with her sister’s head in her lap as their driver pulled off towards their hotel. Kali and the rest of the girls chattered quietly as Camille stroked her sister’s hair. Hopefully the one hour at Crimson didn’t overshadow the entire night for her.

Camille sighed and leaned her head against her seat’s window. I just need to get back to Houston, she thought. And then I’ll be able to forget about him and put this night behind me.

Terry

Terry’s jaw clenched as he peered out of the window, watching Jabari get the group of women into the luxury SUV. Jabari closed the front passenger door as the last one put on her seatbelt. He then jogged to the driver’s side and briefly spoke to the chauffeur. After a tap on the hood, the driver sped off in the direction of Bourbon Street. Terry stepped away from the window and turned to look at the center of the room. A man dangled from a meat hook attached to the tall ceiling, thrashing in the chains used to restrain him. Terry’s blood boiled as he watched him struggle, muffled pleas trying to pass the gag in his mouth. His face was barely recognizable, but Terry knew it was Justin Grey. The 20-something year-old son of some Hollywood executive who was turned six months ago. Terry knew he was too young and immature to behave himself around Indulgences. But his business partners thought otherwise. Justin’s $5,000,000 donation was just too enticing to pass up.

Both of Justin’s eyes were nearly swollen shut. Bruises bloomed across his face and neck. His nose was obviously broken. A gash on his cheek leaked blood onto the floor. Although the man’s vampire status would’ve dulled the pain of a human’s attempt to hurt him, the ass whooping he got from his fellow supernaturals had him writhing in agony.

Terry shook his head as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. If it wasn’t for this motherfucker, he would be in one of the private rooms upstairs with his recent dance partner, letting her ride his face and his dick until the sun rose. But no. He had to deal with this bullshit. Bullshit that ran seven perfect Indulgences out of his club. It wasn’t the end of the world, his clients would still be satisfied. There were about fifty men and women walking around Crimson with the red wristbands. Only fifteen clients were present today, so they had plenty to choose from. But he could tell that the bachelorette party was a fan favorite, since most of his clients eagerly joined to beat the man who ran them off. They circled Justin’s upside down form, waiting for Terry to give them the greenlight to finish him off.

Terry sipped the dark liquor slowly, savoring the burn in the back of his throat. He walked over to Justin and crouched down near his face. Justin took labored breaths, flinching as Terry’s hand reached for the gag in his mouth. In one fluid motion, Terry yanked the rag out of mouth, sending blood and teeth scattering across the floor. Justin cried out. Terry just stared, giving him a sarcastic smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Friends, guests…,” Terry started as he slowly rose to his feet. “What is the single most important rule when handling Indulg–”

“Terry, man come on. I-I didn’t… I j-just got a little carried awa–” Justin began to beg.

“Shut. The Fuck. Up,” Terry gritted. No one moved, no one dared to reply, so Terry began again. “Indulgences should never… ever… be forced to do anything. No matter what. It is our responsibility to convince. To seduce. Our interactions with humans, especially Indulgences, are meant to be mutualistic. We give as much as we take. If we go around abusing them and acting entitled, we’ll eventually lose access to them. And if we lose access to them, our chances of survival get real fucking slim.”

Terry took another slow sip of whiskey, his expression calm, but his words laced with venom. Contrary to popular folklore, vampires didn’t loathe humans, they thrived on them. Humans were their life force, their source of entertainment, their companions in an otherwise meaningless existence. They brought color to the gray monotony of their extended lifetimes. Disruptions to this delicate, symbiotic bond were rare, but when they happened, they were never taken lightly. Terry and other vampires had spent centuries cultivating these relationships, and this small transgression was a threat to that hard-won balance. What made it worse was that the woman who had captured his heart was entangled in this mess. But despite the simmering rage beneath his calm exterior, he refused to let this minor setback derail his evening. He was still going to put someone through a mattress tonight, so he was going to make this quick.

Jabari walked into the room, nodding towards Terry to confirm that the women were heading back towards their hotel. He nodded back, taking a final sip of whiskey before placing the glass on a nearby surface.

“Everyone, please don’t let the foolish actions of one ruin your night. When you’re ready, return to the main area and have your fun,” Terry spoke diplomatically. Then he turned his attention to Jabari, who glared menacingly at Justin.

“Jabari,” Terry called calmly. Jabari’s eyes snapped in his direction.

“You were interested in the girl that Justin attacked, yes?” Jabari simply nodded. Terry hummed in response. “Will you do the honors and kill him? Try not to be too loud, we don’t want to disturb the rest of the club.”

Jabari grinned, shifting into his supernatural form as he stalked toward Justin.

“No, NO! Terry please, I-I-I learned my lesson! It won’t happen again!” Justin cried out as Jabari’s eyes shifted to a deep red, his canines elongating and his nails sharpening.

Terry drowned out Justin’s screams as Jabari's claws pierced his flesh, ripping him apart. He knew Jabari would finish the job right, so he made his way towards the door without looking back, pulling his business phone out of his pocket. Now that the situation was handled, his mind could return to more pressing matters. The lovely little vixen who put him under her spell in less than twenty minutes. He swiped through the electronic records that another bouncer, Tariq, sent him. They displayed copies of all of the driver’s licenses that were scanned that night. He searched through dozens of photos before he landed on one that made his heart skip a beat.

Camille DeWaterson.

04/26/1995.

Houston, Texas.

Each passing second that Terry’s eyes lingered on the photo solidified his decision. The decision he made when she had rushed off to tend to her sister now felt inevitable—he was going to pursue her with everything he had. The moment they shared on the dancefloor wasn’t just a fleeting connection; it was raw, too real to dismiss. When she had looked at him, there had been something in her gaze, something that bordered on reverence. As if he had become her anchor in a world full of uncertainty. He couldn’t shake the intensity of it, the desire to see that look again, to make her feel that way once more. And the way she came undone in his arms? It was so fucking erotic. If she writhed against him like that just from some kissing and touching, how would she act underneath him as he stretched her out. Would she scream his name? Would she beg him to let her cum? Would she wet up his sheets? He was determined to find out. And once he did, he would never let her go.

Besides, she obviously needed to be saved from her engagement. No properly satisfied woman would have acted how she did. It was practically a cry for help. A bat signal that said she needed someone to take care of her body, mind, and soul. And Terry knew he would be the best person to do so. Not the lame ass nigga she was with now.

He took a screenshot of the driver’s license and tucked the phone back into his pocket. Tomorrow, he would dig through the internet for everything linked to his new obsession. But right now, he needed to find some relief and bury himself in some pussy. He was still hard from the dance he got and Camille’s ID picture only made the tightening in his groin worse. He waved over Amber as she headed in his direction. Once she stood in front of him, he wordlessly threw her over his shoulder, hauling her upstairs towards the private rooms.

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@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @kaylaahisthebestest @notapradagurl7 @23jammy so sorry if I missed anyone, please comment so I can add you for next week!

#terry richmond #terry richmond smut #aaron pierre #aaron pierre smut #terry richmond fic #aaron pierre fic #terry richmond fanfiction #rebel ridge fanfiction #rebel ridge fic #rebel ridge #aaron pierre x black!oc

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rosyblooom · 10 months ago

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could you please do figure skater x lando norris or carlos sainz

snow angels | cs55 smau

PAIRING: carlos sainz x fem spanish figure skater!reader A/N: thank u for sending this in!! <3 fyi I know next to nothing about the figure skating world, so pls bear that in mind lol

Instagram

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, carlossainz55, yourpartner, and 89,772 others

tagged: yourpartner

yourusername ¡Lo hicimos! (we did it!)🇪🇸🏆 gold for ice dance in the european championships!! thank you to everyone for the support 🤍

view all 796 comments

username Ustedes dos lo hicieron increíble. ¡Habéis enorgullecido mucho a España! (you two did amazing. you have made spain very proud!)

yourusername muchas gracias :) (thank you very much)

username congratulations! we love you so much! <33

username Both looked gorgeous❤️‍🔥🔥😻

username am I tripping or is that carlos sainz in the likes???

username are you new here lmao? they're dating username wait what???? username yeah lol they're just private

carlossainz55 Gran trabajo como siempre👏👏 (great job as always)

yourusername 🥰🥰 username AHHH I LOVE U CARLOS username bring the next gp home and then it's perfect 🇪🇸

username That was a pure masterpiece! I've rewatched your performance so many times already!

yourpartner ¡Equipo soñado!❤️(dream team!)

yourusername para siempre 🤍 (forever) username u guys are so cute stawp

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: huele delicioso 😍 (smells delicious) ]

[ tagged: carlossainz55 ]

Youtube - Ferrari

Twitter

Instagram

carlossainz55 posted to his story!

[ caption: ❄️👸 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lilymhe and 71,894 others

tagged: carlossainz55

yourusername tried teaching him a few tricks but as you can see, he's much better at making snow angels!!🤣🤍🤍

view all 1,005 comments

landonorris Why am I not surprised😂

yourusername I would love to see you try! 😆 landonorris I'll pass! username we love a man who knows his limits!!!🙂‍↕️

username that's so real of him tbh

username no bc i tried once and that stuff ain't for the weak omfg😮‍💨

carlossainz55 My knee still hurts...

yourusername it wasn't so bad🤣 username I CAN KISS IT BETTER!!!

username love you y/n!!! can't wait to see you at the olympics🫶

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lilymhe my pretty girl <33

yourusername 😘

1:22 ──ㅇ────────── 5:16

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probablyasocialecologist · 1 year ago

Text

Ursula K. Le Guin once said that “[t]o use the world well, to be able to stop wasting it and our time in it, we need to relearn our being in it.” Crucially, Nausicaä imagines a new way of being in the world by radically reframing our relation to it and our understanding of it. Instead of a desert, the inhospitable environment in Nausicaä is known as the Sea of Decay. But far from a dying and deadened milieu, the Sea of Decay is in fact brimming with life. This is hardly ironic but for a dominant binary and linear ontology around life and death. The living and the dead are not fixed in a binary but bound together in an intimate, dynamic, circling dance. Decay and regeneration are two sides of the same coin. Reflecting on when he moved to the Yanase River, Miyazaki recalls, “The river was more like a polluted ditch, filled with leeches and midge larvae. I was amazed by how noble these midges were and impressed that they would live in such a place.” The Sea of Decay, teeming with life, is arguably the site of some of the most luxuriant and resplendent imagery in all of Miyazaki’s films.

#dune #nausicaa #nausicaä of the valley of the wind

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bcacstuff · 6 months ago

Text

Time for another epic show at the Stade de France Paris for the closing ceremony of the Olympics 2024

A Golden Voyager lands in a world that is deserted and mysterious, ready to explore.

Athens 1896 Greece 🇬🇷 to Paris 2024 🇫🇷

It’s always worth remembering Pierre de Coubertin’s vision for the modern Olympic Games and the contribution of Greece.

“The Hymn to Apollo”, like you’ve never seen or heard it before.

The Olympic rings! The Stade de France! 🩵💛🖤💚❤️

Angèle and Phoenix turning Stade de France into Stade de Dance

Speeches by Tony Estanguet, President of Paris 2024 and Thomas Bach, President of the International Olympic Committee.

As the Olympic Anthem plays, the Olympic flag is lowered. It’s a lovely performance by the Maîtrise de Fontainebleau and the Orchestre Divertimento.

From Paris to LA. The Olympic flag is officially handed over!

Mayors Anne Hidalgo and Karen Bass make history as they join IOC President Thomas Bach for the handover.

“The Star-Spangled Banner” rings out around the Stade de France, while Simone Biles holds the Olympic flag.

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to bring the Olympic flag to Los Angeles.”

The Red Hot Chili Peppers are getting the #LA28 party started!

As we bid farewell to the Paris 2024 Olympic flame, Yseult treats us to a spine-tingling rendition of “My way”.

Merci Beaucoup Paris 2024, See you in LA 2028

#olympic games #paris 2024 #olympic games 2024 #olympics #stade de france #closing ceremony #la 2028

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buldakcorn · 4 months ago

Text

Bask In The Glory

LOONA/LOOSSEMBLE Vivi x Male Characters

Genre : Gloryhole, Facial, Breeding, BBC, Cum-swallowing

5831 words

The scorching sun of Los Angeles kissed the pavement, making it almost too hot to touch. Vivi's bare legs stuck to the sticky sidewalk as she sauntered down the bustling street, her white tanktop clinging to her damp skin. Her skirt, short and flirty, danced with each step she took, revealing a hint of the black lace panties she had chosen for the day. Her long, wavy hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, showcasing her slender neck and delicate shoulders. The fabric of her top was thin enough to leave nothing to the imagination, showing her nipples as she didn't bother to wear a bra. The catcalls grew louder as she approached a construction site, the burly men pausing their work to appreciate the view she willingly provided. She reveled in the attention, a sly smile playing on her full lips as she tossed her hair back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The sound of hammering and whistles grew into a symphony of male desire, and Vivi felt a thrill run through her. This was her game, and she played it well.

Turning a corner, Vivi's eyes locked onto a nondescript building that was almost invisible amidst the urban sprawl. Her heart quickened at the sight of it. This was where the real fun began. With a practiced twirl of her hips, she slipped through the shadowed alley at the back and approached the unassuming metal door, a stark contrast to the vibrant street life behind her. The back door, known to only a select few, was her secret passage into the world she craved. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and her nipples tightening further against the fabric of her tanktop. The anticipation was palpable. With a gentle push, the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit staircase that beckoned her with the promise of what awaited above.

The coolness of the stale air inside the building was a stark contrast to the heat outside, sending a shiver down Vivi's spine. She scanned the dimly lit corridor, her eyes adjusting to the shadows as the sounds of the city outside faded. The walls were lined with a series of stalls, each with a small, square opening at the bottom half, the very essence of anonymity. Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached the empty stall at the end of the hall, the 'Vacant' sign hanging askew. With a silent click, she locked the door behind her, the final barrier between her and the thrill she sought. The cramped space was a stark contrast to the grandiose stage she had walked earlier, but it was here she truly felt alive. She peeled off her skirt, revealing her wet black panties, and pulled her tanktop over her head, freeing her perky breasts. Vivi stepped out of her shoes and slid the lacy underwear down her legs, leaving them in a pile at her feet. She was now naked, ready to embrace the darkness and the unknown that awaited on the other side of the wall.

The moment the warm, firm flesh of the anonymous cock pushed through the opening, Vivi's breath hitched with excitement. Her delicate hand wrapped around the base, stroking it with a gentle, yet eager, touch. The cock was already thick and engorged, a silent testament to the power of her allure. She leaned closer, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum, her eyes fixed on the pulsing member. With the tip glistening in the faint light, she brought it to her lips and began to lick. From the velvety base to the sensitive, bulbous head, her tongue danced a sensual tango, tracing every vein and ridge. A soft groan echoed from the other side of the stall, spurring her on. The taste of pre-cum grew stronger as she worked her way back up, savoring the salty tang. With a devilish grin, she opened her mouth wide and took him in, her tongue swirling around the tip before she began to suck, the sound of her wet, hungry mouth filling the small space. Her other hand found her own dripping wet pussy, her fingers slipping inside with ease, matching the rhythm of her oral exploration. The anonymity of the act only served to heighten the thrill, the mystery man's desperate moans driving her closer to the edge of ecstasy.

With practiced ease, Vivi switched gears, her technique evolving from slow and sensual to fast and furious. Her hand gripped the shaft tighter as she quickened her pace, her head bobbing up and down with an urgency that made the stranger's hips buck against the wall. The wet sounds of her mouth grew louder, echoing through the alley as if to announce her expertise to the world outside. She pulled back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the cock, and then plunged back down, taking him deep into her throat. The stranger's hands gripped the edges of the opening, his knuckles turning white as he fought to hold back his growing release. Vivi looked up, her eyes meeting his through the small gap, her pupils dilated with desire. She spat on the velvety head, watching as her saliva trickled down the shaft, mixing with the precum to form a glistening trail. A smirk played on her lips as she leaned in again, her mouth wide and eager, and took him back in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked with renewed vigor. Strands of saliva fell from her mouth, painting her tits with a wet sheen that glistened in the dim light. The man's groans grew louder, his body tensing as he approached the brink of climax. Vivi's own pleasure mounted as she felt the pressure of his cock swelling within her mouth, her own juices coating her fingertips as she worked her clit in time with her sucking.

Vivi felt the anonymous cock throb in her mouth, a clear signal of the impending climax. Her pace quickened, her cheeks hollowing as she greedily sucked, eager to taste the sweet release she had coaxed from the stranger. With a muffled roar, he reached his peak, and she was met with the first hot spurt of cum that shot straight down her throat. She swallowed reflexively, the salty taste flooding her mouth as she took his entire load, feeling his cock pulse with every spasm. Some of the cum overflowed her mouth and painted her face and chest, the warmth of it making her nipples peak even more. With a final, powerful thrust, the man emptied himself into her willing throat, his hands now gripping the wall for support as his body shuddered with pleasure. Vivi pulled back, a trail of semen connecting her mouth to the now softening member, and let the remaining cum dribble out onto her tongue. She closed her eyes, savoring the flavor before opening her mouth, allowing the sticky strands to fall onto her heaving chest. The sound of his ragged breaths filled the small stall as he slowly regained his composure. She felt a sense of power, knowing that she had brought this stranger to the edge of pleasure, her own orgasm building steadily as she listened to the symphony of his aftermath.

As the hours ticked by, Vivi's body grew sticky with the remnants of countless encounters. The walls of the stall were a canvas of lust, painted with the evidence of her handiwork. Her jaw muscles had begun to ache from the relentless sucking, but she pushed through the fatigue, fueled by the adrenaline rush of each new anonymous cock that found its way through the opening. The current man was tall and thick, his girth stretching her lips and filling her mouth to the brim. Despite her jaw's protest, she maintained her rhythm, her hand still working her clit as if it had a life of its own. The taste of cum had become a familiar one, a flavor that grew more intoxicating with every passing minute. Each new groan, each new spurt of seed, brought her closer to her own climax. Her breasts, smeared with the sticky evidence of past conquests, heaved with every breath she took. The scent of sex permeated the stall, a heady mix of sweat, semen, and arousal that made her head spin. And yet, she was insatiable. With a glint in her eye and a hunger that never wavered, she continued to serve the endless parade of men, eager for each new mouthful of their desire. Her throat tightened around the cock in her mouth, her body trembling as the orgasm she had been chasing for hours finally crashed over her, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her core. The man grunted, his hips bucking as he too found release, adding to the sticky mess that coated her.

Vivi's eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and hunger as she pulled back, her mouth open and inviting. His hips thrust forward, and she could feel his climax approaching like a freight train. With a wicked smile, she stroked him faster, her hand a blur as it glided up and down the shaft. His body tensed, and she knew the moment was upon them. The first hot spurt of cum shot from the tip of his cock, painting the inside of her mouth with a warm, salty stream. She reveled in the sensation, her eyes locked onto his cock as she opened her mouth to allow the rest of his load to spray onto her face, the warmth of it splattering across her cheeks and nose. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his cum on her skin, her tongue darting out to catch any rogue droplets that had escaped. The man groaned with satisfaction, his hand relaxing its grip on the stall's opening as he finished. Vivi swallowed with a gulp, her throat constricting around the last bit of cum, and then leaned back against the wall, her breathing heavy and her body thrumming with the aftershocks of her own orgasm. She felt alive, her skin tingling with the excitement of the anonymous encounter, and she knew she was far from finished for the night.

"Who's next?"

Her eyes widened as a thick ebony monster filled the hole before her, the largest cock she had ever laid eyes on. It was a behemoth, a testament to nature's ability to create something so powerful and alluring. Her shock was only momentary, though, as the thrill of the challenge surged through her. The head was like a dark plum, veins pulsing along the length of the shaft, and it was glistening with anticipation. Vivi's hand hovered for a second, unsure of where to begin, before she wrapped her fingers around its base. It was so wide she could barely get a grip, but she was determined to conquer this beast. She took a deep breath, licked her lips, and leaned in, her heart racing like a caged animal ready to be unleashed. The stranger's cock twitched at her touch, and she felt a sense of triumph knowing she had this giant at her mercy. With a wicked smirk, she began her slow, deliberate descent, her mouth stretching to accommodate the girth as she took inch after inch of velvety heat. The man on the other side of the wall groaned, a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very core of the building, and she knew she had him hooked. This was going to be a ride she would never forget.

Vivi's eyes watered as she fought to take in the massive length that stretched before her. It was a challenge she hadn't anticipated, one that sent a thrill through her body as she wrapped both hands around the base of the thick, dark shaft. Her jaw protested, but she was determined to conquer this new peak of pleasure. The man on the other side of the stall grunted his impatience, his hand guiding her movements with a roughness that only made her want to prove herself. She gagged slightly as the head of his cock pushed against the back of her throat, but she didn't pull back. Instead, she relaxed, letting the intrusion fill her completely, her hands working in unison with her mouth to create a symphony of sensation. Despite her best efforts, the cock remained unyielding, demanding more from her. She could feel his frustration as she struggled to deep-throat him, his hips pushing against the barrier that separated them, desperate for a deeper connection. Her eyes watered more, her throat strained, but she was unfazed. The thrill of the struggle, the raw, unbridled power of the situation had her pulse racing and her pussy dripping. The stranger's complaints only fueled her determination to satisfy him, to make him see just how skilled she truly was. And with a sudden surge of adrenaline, she managed to take him all in, her throat convulsing around his length as she swallowed his entire cock. His grip tightened, his moans grew more urgent, and she knew she had him where she wanted him. The battle was far from over, but she had claimed the first victory, her body buzzing with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.

After minutes have passed, the powerful climax washed over her like a storm, the man's cock jerking and pulsing as rope after rope of cum shot into her mouth and spattered across her face. She felt the warmth of his release coat her cheeks, her nose, and dribble down her chin as she struggled to keep up with the deluge. Her eyes watered uncontrollably, not just from the effort of taking such a massive cock but also from the intense satisfaction of watching the man lose control. With a final shudder, the anonymous cock retreated from the opening, leaving Vivi gasping for air, her face a sticky mess of cum. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a smile of triumph playing on her lips as she watched the last of him disappear from the stall. The man's ragged breaths slowly returned to normal, and she knew he was gone, leaving her to bask in the aftermath of their shared ecstasy. Vivi took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving, before the thrill of the unknown once again drew her eyes to the next opening in the wall, her body craving the next encounter. She licked her lips, her heart racing with excitement as she leaned in to see what, or who, awaited her next.

Suddenly, the locks of the doorknob was being pressured. The door to Vivi's stall swung open with a harsh creak, and there he stood, the very man whose monstrous cock she had just managed to conquer. His eyes were like embers in the dark, burning with a hunger that seemed insatiable even after his powerful release. He stepped into the cramped space, his muscular frame filling the room, the scent of their combined arousal thick in the air. Despite the sticky mess covering her, Vivi felt a fresh surge of excitement at the sight of his towering figure and his already-erect member. The thrill of the unexpected invaded her, mixing with the lingering taste of cum in her mouth. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as she took in the sheer size of him. He reached out a hand, and without a word, she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. The stranger's gaze never left hers as he stepped closer, his cock standing tall and proud, begging for her attention. Vivi's legs quivered slightly, but she didn't resist, instead leaning back against the cold wall, her breasts heaving with anticipation. The man leaned in, his breath hot against her neck, and whispered,

"You're not done yet, are you, little one?" His voice was a low, gravelly rumble that sent shivers down her spine, and she felt the unmistakable throb of her pussy in response. Her eyes never left his as she whispered back, "No, not even close."

With surprising strength, the man spun her around so that her back was pressed against his broad chest, her face mere inches from the cold, unyielding wall. His hands were everywhere, leaving a trail of fire across her skin. He squeezed one of her breasts, his rough fingers pinching her nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The sharp pleasure of his touch made her gasp, her eyes fluttering shut. At the same time, his other hand found her ass, and with a smack that echoed in the small stall, he slapped her firmly, leaving a red handprint that stung with the promise of more to come. His cock, still rock-hard and slick with the evidence of their earlier encounter, pressed against her folds. His breath was hot on her neck as he whispered, "You're going to take it all, aren't you?" His voice was a dark promise, a question that didn't require an answer. Vivi's body quivered with anticipation, her breathing shallow as she nodded, unable to find the words to express her eagerness.

With a grin that spoke of his dominance, the stranger lined up his cock with Vivi's soaking wet pussy. His grip on her hips was firm as he began to push forward, inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes squeezed shut, and a silent scream tore from her throat as she felt herself stretching to accommodate his massive length. The head of his cock nudged against her inner walls, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back the sounds of pleasure that threatened to spill out. Her body resisted at first, unaccustomed to being filled so completely, but she was determined to take every last inch of him. He paused, giving her a moment to adjust before he continued his relentless invasion, each push sending waves of painful pleasure through her body. The sensation was overwhelming, her walls clenching around him as if trying to keep him out while simultaneously pulling him deeper. Her breasts flattened against the cold wall and his scorching hot skin making her skin tingle. His cock was a beast that demanded submission, and she was more than willing to give it what it craved.

Vivi's eyes widened with a mix of pleasure and pain as she felt the man's thick, velvet-covered steel fill her completely. The wall was cold and unforgiving against her breasts as she pushed back into him, her body moving in a dance of submission to the rhythm he dictated. Her pussy was stretched to the limits, the friction of his movements setting her nerves alight as she moaned deeply. His grip on her ponytail tightened, pulling her head back to expose her neck, and he took the opportunity to kiss and nibble at her sensitive flesh. Each slap of her ass against his thighs echoed through the stall, the sound a testament to his power and her willingness to take everything he had to give. Her hands clawed at the wall, leaving trails in the sticky residue of past encounters, as she held on for dear life. His strokes grew faster, more punishing, and she could feel her orgasm building again, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to drown her in its intensity. The stranger's breaths grew heavier, his grip tightened, and Vivi knew that she was close to reaching the pinnacle of pleasure she had been chasing all night.

The stranger whispered harsh, degrading comments into Vivi's ear, his voice a seductive taunt that sent shivers down her spine. "You're just a whore, aren't you?" he growled. "A dirty, cum-hungry slut who'll take any cock that comes your way." His words were like a dark symphony, each note striking a chord within her that made her wetter, more desperate for his touch. Instead of being repulsed, she found herself responding in kind, her own voice thick with lust as she murmured,

"Yes, I'm your whore. Your dirty, little slut. Use me, fill me up. Make me take it all." His grunts grew louder, his hips moving with more force, as she eagerly embraced her depraved role. The sound of their slapping flesh and her whimpers of pleasure grew to a crescendo, the alley outside forgotten in the throes of their carnivorous desire. With each thrust, he claimed her, marking her as his own, and she reveled in the filth of it all, her voice a siren's call of depravity that seemed to fuel his lust even more. "I'm nothing but your cumdumpster," she panted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your cock is so big, so perfect, I can't get enough." His response was a feral groan as he drove into her harder, his hands digging into her flesh as if trying to claim her very soul. The degradation only served to amplify the intensity of their union, each word a drop of gasoline thrown onto the fire of their passion.

Vivi had never felt so alive, so wanted, so utterly used, and she craved more, her voice growing stronger as she begged for his release. "Fuck me like you own me," she cried, her nails raking down the wall. "Cum inside me, fill me up like the slut I am!" His grip on her hips tightened, and she knew he was close, his cock swelling even further within her, the pressure building as they both raced toward the edge of oblivion.

Vivi's body convulsed with the intensity of her orgasm, her pussy clenching around the stranger's thick shaft, milking him for every ounce of pleasure he had to give. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her knees threatening to buckle beneath the weight of her ecstasy. The sound of her wetness filled the stall as her juices dripped down her thighs, mixing with the sticky mess of cum that already coated them. The man's breath grew ragged in her ear, his own climax approaching like a freight train. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock swelling even further within her tight, clenching walls. Vivi felt the warmth of his cum flood her pussy, filling her to the brim, as his grip on her hips tightened, his body shuddering with the force of his release. His growl of satisfaction was a vibration that resonated through her, sending aftershocks of pleasure rippling through her core. She could feel him pulsing inside her, the warmth of his cum painting her inner walls. The sensation was almost too much to handle, and she leaned back against his broad chest, her body limp and trembling from the overwhelming experience. For a brief moment, the only sounds were their mingled breaths and the faint echoes of their passion that seemed to hang in the air like a tangible presence. Then, with a shudder, the stranger pulled out, leaving Vivi gasping and spent, her pussy gaping open, still quivering from the sheer size of the cock that had just ravished her.

The stranger's touch was firm, yet gentle, as he laid her down on the grimy stall floor, her sticky skin sliding against the cold, hard surface. Vivi's legs felt like jelly, but she eagerly complied as he lifted one of her legs, exposing her to the chill of the air. The tip of his cock, still slick from her pussy, nudged at her entrance, and she bit her lip, bracing for the next round of pleasure. He slammed into her from behind with a ferocity that took her breath away, filling her completely once more. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt his massive cock stretch her to the limits, his length sliding in and out with a rhythm that was both punishing and deliciously satisfying. Vivi's hand found her clit, her fingers working in time with his thrusts as she chased the high that had only just begun to fade. The friction was exquisite, the sound of their bodies slapping together a symphony of lust that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the alley. She could feel her orgasm building again, a coil of pleasure tightening in her belly, demanding release. The stranger's grip on her leg was unyielding, his hips pistoning as he claimed her from behind, his deep grunts of pleasure a constant reminder of who was in control. The world outside had faded away, and all that remained was the two of them, lost in the dark embrace of the stall, their bodies joined in a dance of pure, unbridled desire.

"Oh, fuck!" Vivi screamed, her voice bouncing off the walls of the stall. "I'm gonna cum again!" Her words were a desperate plea, a declaration of the unbearable pleasure that was building within her. Her fingers danced over her clit with a frenzied passion, the stranger's relentless pounding pushing her closer and closer to the edge. The man's hand wasn't idle as he squeeze her boobs. She could feel her pussy clenching around his cock, her walls pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat. The alley outside might as well have ceased to exist, as the only reality was the one they had created in this cramped, sticky space. The smell of sex and sweat was thick in the air, a heady scent that seemed to drive them both to new heights of ecstasy. "Yes, baby," the man grunted, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "Cum for me, you filthy little whore. Show me how much you love this dick." His words were like a final nudge, and Vivi's orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body arching off the floor, her toes curling, her nails digging into the concrete as she was consumed by the intensity of it all. She came hard, her pussy spasming around his thick length, her juices mixing with his previous collection of cum to create a deliciously depraved mess. The stranger didn't stop, though, his thrusts growing even more frenzied as he chased his own release, her cries of pleasure only serving to push him further. Vivi's climax seemed to last an eternity, her body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

"I'm not done yet, baby," the man chuckled darkly, his voice a seductive rumble that seemed to resonate within Vivi's very core. He released himself from her body and laid flat on the cold, sticky floor of the stall, his towering black cock standing tall and proud, a testament to his unquenchable desire. Despite her exhaustion, Vivi felt a fresh wave of excitement wash over her at the sight. His instruction was clear: she was to straddle him, to take charge of her own pleasure. She hovered over his impressive length, her pussy still pulsing from the relentless pounding she had endured, and took a moment to admire the sheer size of him from this new angle. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached down, her fingertips ghosting over the velvety head of his cock, tracing the veins that stood out like roads on a map to bliss.

"You're going to ride me now," he told her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take every inch, let me ruin your tight little cunt." The words were a challenge, a promise of pleasure and pain intertwined, and she found herself eager to accept. With a smirk that spoke of her own brand of power, she lowered herself onto him, feeling the head of his cock nudge against her entrance, which was still stretched and sensitive from their earlier escapade. "Are you gonna strech my pussy hard? You're going to breed me full of cum?" she asked, her voice a sultry purr. "Fuck yes," he growled, his eyes blazing with a hunger that seemed to match her own. "I'm going to fill you up with so much cum, you'll feel it leaking out of you for days." The thought sent a delicious shiver down her spine, and she didn't need any more encouragement. With a gasp, she sank down onto him, her body enveloping his cock once more, the feeling of fullness making her eyes roll back in her head.

Vivi straddled the stranger, her legs shaking with the effort of taking his massive cock once more. Her pussy felt stretched to its limits, a feeling she found oddly satisfying as she began to ride him with all the passion of a wild stallion. Her boobs bounced with each bounce, and she watched in the dim light as they danced before her, covered in a mix of sweat and cum. The man's eyes were glued to them, his hands reaching up to cup and squeeze the soft flesh, his thumbs flicking over her sensitive nipples. The sensation was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her clit as she began to move faster, her wetness making the whole act slick and obscene. She leaned back, her hands on his muscular thighs for balance, her body moving in a wanton rhythm that seemed to drive him wild. The sound of their flesh slapping together grew louder, echoing through the stall, as she took him deeper with every bounce. His grip on her tits tightened, his fingers digging into the flesh, and she could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, her pussy contracting around his thick shaft. She threw her head back, her hair cascading down her back like a dark waterfall, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy as she felt herself being stretched and filled like never before. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through her, making her moan and grind down on him harder. She was in heaven, her body a vessel for his desires, and she didn't care who heard them.

"Oh, fuck, you're so big," Vivi gasped, her eyes wide with amazement as she felt him fill her completely, his cock touching places she didn't even know existed. "You're so deep inside me," she moaned, her voice thick with lust. She bounced up and down on his massive shaft, her walls stretching and clenching around him, the sensation bordering on pain but oh-so-deliciously pleasurable. His size was overwhelming, and she reveled in the feeling of being so utterly filled, so completely owned by his cock. She threw her head back, her hair brushing against the grimy stall wall, and let out a guttural moan that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul. Her breasts jiggled with each movement, and she watched in the dim light as his hands roamed over her body, his fingers pinching her sensitive nipples, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. The stranger's eyes never left hers, a dark, primal hunger in their depths that only served to drive her wild. "You like that, don't you?" he grunted, his voice deep and commanding. "You like feeling this big black cock in your tight, little pussy?" Vivi could only nod, her breaths coming in short, sharp pants as she rode him harder, eager to feel every inch of his length. His girth was unyielding, stretching her in a way she never thought possible, and she knew she would be sore tomorrow. But in this moment, all she cared about was the here and now, the raw, unbridled passion that was consuming them both in the sticky embrace of the alley's shadows.

"Oh God, yes!" Vivi exclaimed as the stranger's hands slid from her breasts to her ass, cupping and squeezing her cheeks as he used them to pull her down onto his thick, pulsing cock. The change in angle sent bolts of pleasure shooting through her, and she knew she was seconds away from another mind-shattering orgasm. "Fuck me harder!" she begged, her voice a desperate whine that seemed to spur him on. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he began to slam into her with a ferocity that had her vision swimming. Each thrust hit her g-spot with unerring precision, her pussy spasming around him, her juices dripping down his shaft to mix with the cum that already coated her thighs. The head of his cock was a brand of fire inside her, stretching her tight channel and filling her with a pressure that was both painful and exquisite. She felt herself tightening, her body preparing for the inevitable explosion of ecstasy that was about to consume her. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" she screamed, the words echoing through the stall like a battle cry. The man's eyes bore into hers, a primal hunger that seemed to feed on her desperation. His hips bucked up to meet her, his thrusts growing even more powerful, as if he too could feel her orgasm building. "Come for me, slut," he grunted, his voice a guttural growl that seemed to resonate through her very soul. And with that, she did. Her body arched, her back bowed, as a scream was ripped from her throat, the force of her climax sending her hurtling over the edge. Her pussy clamped down around his cock, her muscles rippling with the intensity of her release, and she felt him tense beneath her, his cock swelling even further as he reached his peak. With a roar, he emptied himself into her, filling her to the brim with his hot, sticky cum, his hips jerking as he pumped her full of his seed. Vivi's body went limp, her pussy still spasming around his shaft, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode the waves of pleasure that crashed over her. For a moment, she could do nothing but lay there, her body a trembling mess, as she reveled in the aftermath of their depraved union.

Vivi collapsed onto the man's broad chest, her body boneless and slick with sweat and cum. She could feel his heart racing beneath her, a rhythm that matched the erratic beat of her own. His cock slipped from her, leaving a warm trail of his seed to trickle down her thighs, pooling on the cold, sticky floor. The sound of his labored breaths filled her ears, his chest rising and falling in a testament to the exertion of their encounter. She lay there, panting and trembling, her body still quivering with the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. The stranger's hands slid up her body, caressing her sweat-drenched skin as she lay sprawled across him, her pussy still pulsing from the relentless pounding it had endured. They remained in this intimate embrace, basking in the afterglow of their shared pleasure, until the world outside slowly began to creep back in. And as Vivi's breathing steadied, she knew that she would never forget the feel of his massive cock inside her, the way he had claimed her so completely, and the power she had wielded in return.

---

First time posting on Tumblr. I still don't know how this works honestly.

#loona smut #loona vivi smut #loossemble smut #kpop smut

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ldysmfrst · 5 months ago

Text

Incomplete (2) - A Soulmate in Los Angeles

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 2 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 7,218

Word count for Story: 10,594

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter contains a discussion of a family death (Hwa's grandpa) and y/n has an injury.

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

The van ride back to the hotel was quieter than usual. At Seonghwa’s insistence, they all piled into the same van for the short ride. He felt lost because he could not find who was pulling them and was still mourning his grandfather. Keeping his soulmates close by helped ease that feeling.

Mingi and Yunho took the captain's chairs in the front because they could get more room by locking them in the rear-facing mode and pushing them against the driver and passenger seats. Ever the cuddler, Mingi pulled Yeosang into his lap.

Wooyoung sat in the middle row on San’s lap to comfort his closest soulmate, who was still upset about not pinning the pull.

The youngest, Jongho, opted to sit next to San and Wooyong but tangled his legs with Yunho’s to create a connection with his tallest soulmate.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa sit at the very back of the van. Seonghwa's eyes glisten with emotions as the feeling of the pull disappears during the send-off.

“Hongjoong-ah… you didn’t feel anything? No pull? No scents? Nothing?” questions Seonghwa in hushed tones, trying to keep his voice from trembling with the mixed emotions he is getting through the bond.

Sighing, Hongjoong pulls his only older soulmate into his arms, “Honestly, my love, I didn’t feel anything during the show, but during the send-off… I smelt pine trees. Like a whole forest full, but they were burning with a smoldering scent.”

“That could have been someone with a lit fireplace, hyung,” comments Jongho.

“I thought that too, but it was coming from inside the stadium,” Hongjoong continued. “There was a group of Atiny walking up the stands around where San had paused in his pinning. I swear it came from them. Unfortunately, they were being rushed out, so it didn’t stay for long.”

“Excuse me, Sirs? We are here,” the driver announced.

Once the boys had entered the hotel, the manager pulled Hwa, Hongjoong, San, and Mingi into a conference room to discuss their findings.

“Be clear with me,” the manager started. “I need to know what happened out there today. San’s crowd walking is already trending everywhere. Seonghwa, almost crying during the send-off, is raising questions about his mental health and the passing of his grandfather. Don’t even get me started with Mingi ‘being forced to dance while limping.’ What is going on?”

The soulmates look at each other, unsure of what more to say or how to start. Clearing his throat, Seonghwa takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts.

“Manager-nim, do you remember the private talk we had during Coachella?” asks Seonghwa, gaining concerned looks from his soulmates when the manager nods in agreement.

“Hwa..” begins San, but Mingi shakes his head.

“After we filmed for Work here in Los Angeles, I felt like something was missing. At first, I thought the exhaustion from the shoot was getting to me when I felt the tightness in my chest. I even told the choreographers about maybe changing things until one of them convinced me I could do it.”

“I remember that. They said something like, “The Seonghwa I know could make it,” and then you had a new drive in you to prove yourself,” commented Hongjoong. “I was so proud of you when you pulled it off.”

“Thank you, but that tightness stuck with me. Even when we went back home.” Looking around at his soulmates, he continues, “Since no one else seemed to feel the same or recognize a pull, I went to manager-nim again, and he told me to take it easy and focus on Hush Hush since Coachella went so well.”

“Hyung, why didn’t you come and talk to us?” questions Mingi.

“We could have helped in LA. We walked around with you to see if anyone else could pick something up, Hyung,” whined San.

“Mingi, San. Now is not the time,” scolded Hongjoong. Turning his attention to the manager, he said, “Thank you for listening to Hwa and guiding him during that time, manager-nim.”

“You're welcome. I would have said something, but Seonghwa-ssi didn’t want to worry anyone with the new collaboration and the tour coming up.” Looking at Hwa, the manager asked, “Do you think this is that same pull?”

“I do. I think we might have a soulmate in Los Angeles.”

The room is filled with silence. Each soulmate pulls into themselves, trying to find clues to help prove Hwa’s assumption because none of them don’t believe him. They worry about how their missing soulmate feels and how to tell the others that there is one.

Soft whimpers break the stillness as a wave of guilt floods out of San, “How are we going to find them now? I couldn’t find them tonight, and LA is huge. We could look for days, weeks, or months and never find them. My pinning abilities didn’t work!”

Quickly, Seonghwa pulls San into his lap, “Sannie, you did so well tonight and on such short notice. You were able to find out the pull was coming from C2.”

“Did you say C2?” inquires the manager.

“Yeah, why?” presses Hongjoong. “Is there something special about that section?”

Flipping through his cell phone, the manager pulls up an email from BMO and KQ. Reading over it briefly, the manager grins, “Yes, actually. It turns out that the BMO event staff misdirected C2, C3, and C4 to the wrong entry gate, causing many of them to miss BE:FIRST and the start of the show.”

Narrowing his eyes at the manager, Hongjoong asks through gritted teeth, “How is making our Atiny miss the show something to smile about?”

Still smiling, “They all got complimentary tickets to the Grammy Museum. They are only good for the next 48 hours.”

A wash of confusion comes over the members.

“But we have the Hello82 event tomorrow and another show. How does that help?” prods Hongjoong with growing irritation.

“Easy. The Hello82 event is ticketed and set for the late morning, and the call time for the show isn’t until 4 p.m. So, instead of returning to the hotel to rest, you could always drop by the Grammy Museum to check out your exhibition,” offers the manager.

“How is that even?” Hongjoong starts.

“Wait a minute, Joongie,” Seonghwa interrupts. “Hello82 doesn’t start till 11:30 am. If we can convince Yunho to leave an anchor and Wooyoung to scent-mark the Museum before it opens, we might be able to trigger our soulmate’s ability or at least cause them to linger in the area.”

“Woo would do it! He already said he would help me in any way I thought,” San excitedly says, gaining a smile on his face with his now tear-puffed eyes.

Nodding in agreement, a pensive face comes over Mingi: “Yunho is always leaving anchors for us, so I am sure he wouldn’t mind leaving one to find our new mate, but I am not sure if either of our bears actually believe we have a new soulmate.”

Once the plans were set in motion, the soulmates retired for the night in their respectful rooms. Unlike what most Atiny thought, they were not paired up in their couplings because their soulmate abilities kind of blocked that when they were on tour.

Seonghwa’s ability to receive emotions from his soulmates makes sleeping difficult, as the others unknowingly share their dreams, nightmares, and worries throughout the day with him. This is why he bunks with Jongho. His ability allows him to influence others' emotions, and unlike the rest of the members, he doesn’t express his emotions when sleeping because he ends up acting as a barrier. This feels like a cocoon of comfort and relaxation for the eldest soulmate.

Hongjoong could scent his soulmates, each a different version of a pine tree. He was so attuned to them that he could act like one of those Alphas in Atiny’s fanfics and hunt down each member. Luckily, his match was Wooyoung and his lovely Mugo pine scent, which reminded the Captain of Christmas. As any Atiny would know, Wooyoung’s personality and love language is touch, but what they assumed was the need for skinship was Woo’s using his ability to leave his scent behind on his soulmates.

Yunho and Yeosang found balance with each other. Yunho eased Yeosang's tension, which was caused by Yeosang’s ability to pull his soulmates close. By placing his anchor on Yeosang’s soul, Yunho effectively allowed Yeo to latch on to him and only him. During their sleep, it was like they created their own universe when it was just the two of them latching on to each other physically and metaphysically.

That left San and Mingi. While San could pin onto each of his soulmates, almost like an internal GPS, and Mingi could use his ability to feel what his soulmates were feeling physically, neither of their abilities was constantly active. The two didn’t need a counterpart to relax, so they would either share a room or take turns bunking with another set during the tours.

When San joined KQ, the vibrations from Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi were so strong that it was easy to find them huddled in a recording studio. It was like being a dolphin and using echolocation to find them. After that, it was almost like the others started gravitating toward them, which made it easy.

Mingi only felt his mates' physical emotions when they became overwhelming. Sometimes, he could tell when it was getting to that point, and instead of waiting for the overflow, he would absorb the feelings: pain, anger, hopelessness, all of it.

After a night's rest and an early breakfast, the boys gathered in the same conference room. This time, a few of their personal bodyguards, who knew about the soulmate bond, and the manager joined them.

“Now that everyone is here, we have something essential to talk about,” Hongjoong started, then looked to Seonghwa to explain.

After retelling the story of the Music Video Work issues and what they had discussed last night, he said, “We have to find our missing part.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Jongho spoke up with a firm voice, eyeing Mingi, who hadn’t stopped watching him since the meeting started.

Mingi’s ears turn pink after being caught. Darting his eyes away from his youngest soulmate, he replies, “You… you haven’t said much since all of this started, neither has Yunho, and I am concerned that you guys won’t be on board.”

“Mingi is right. You even dismissed Joong-hyung from the van last night, Jongho-ah,” Wooyoung comments before turning to Yunho. “Why are you so quiet? Do you think Hwa-hyung is wrong?”

“I never said he was wrong. I never said any of you were wrong but I wonder why Yeosang-hyung hasn’t felt the pull yet, that is all,” Yunho answers.

When this name is mentioned, Yeosang gets pulled out of his thoughts. Looking around the table, he smiles softly, “I don’t think I haven’t.”

This shocks everyone at the table. A flurry of questions gets thrown at the 99-liner.

“My loves, wait a minute. Let me explain, please.” After the questions die down and a simple nod from Hwa, Yeosang continues, “With each of you, I feel this thick and solid rope like a Mooring line attached to each of you that I can tug on. Plus, when we found each other, there wasn’t an entire stadium between us.”

“You feel another one of these mooring lines?” asks Jongho.

“No, I don’t, but I felt something like a plaited silk rope slip around me when we said good night, and it felt good,” Yeosang says, smiling to himself as he recalls the feeling. “However, because manager-nim had instructed me and others to concentrate on the other side of the stage, it slipped off. Then I couldn’t find it again, so I chalked it up to being excited about ending an amazing show.”

“Now do you think that anymore?” pushes Jongho.

Shaking his head, Yeo replies, “It has to be our soulmate. I looked it up on my phone after Yuyu fell asleep. Others with the same ability in group bonds say that the pull can feel different because it tends to be gender specific.”

A resounding “WHAT” fills the room as shock takes over everyone. Each soulmate’s mind reels with this new information. Adding another soulmate was a challenge, but having a woman soulmate, a lady to pamper, and a female to connect with was its own obstacle.

San felt almost relieved because this could explain why his pinning wasn’t working well. Once he pinned the section, he was only pinning towards the male Atinies. He had used a more resounding, darker melody with each of his bonded mates, almost like something from Pirates of the Caribbean.

“Yunho,” Mingi called his twin tower. “Do you remember asking about my back because I was limping?”

“Yeah, you have been having problems with it for a while now. Why?”

“I was still limping last night after the show-up until about time for the send-off. I am starting to think our soulmate has an injury,” states Mingi.

Concern floods into Seonghwa from all of his soulmates. Grabbing Jungho quickly to stop himself from breaking into tears, he asks, “You mean she was in pain while watching the concert? How could she have enjoyed being there if she was overflowing in pain?”

“I don’t think it was that bad the entire time,” Mingi contemplates. “I think the pain for me started even before the sound check. It was dull and throbbing, but there was nothing too much until we went on, and it got intense. I am sure that is why Yunho noticed me limping.”

“How come I couldn’t feel her pain, too? If it was that bad I should have felt something,” worries Seonghwa.

“Hwa, my love. Maybe she was so happy to see us that the pain was only physical,” Hongjoong attempts to console his ever-caring mate.

“Don’t be so self-centered, Joong. Our mate was in severe physical pain!”

“Seonghwa-hyung,” says Jongho, cupping Hwa’s face and pulling his attention to him while pushing calming notes and dampening the rest of the room. “She could have used pain medication to help keep it tolerable. If anything, I would wager we have a stubborn, independent, and intelligent lady for a soulmate, hum?”

“You think so?” implores Hwa. The feeling of failing to care for a new soulmate he has never seen slowly subsides at the youngest’s words.

“I don’t think so. I know so because only a woman like that will be able to handle a bonded group like us,” teases Jongho.

With murmurs and remarks of agreement coupled with chuckles, the tension in the form finally releases.

“So now what do we do?” asks Yunho. “How are we going to find this ladymate?”

“That is where you and Wooyoung come in,” pipes up the manager.

“I’ll do it!” agrees Wooyoung almost before the manager finishes talking, again pulling chuckles from the room.

“Last night, there was backlash about how BMO misdirected Atiny to sections C2, C3, and C4,” the manager puts his hands up before anyone can start chiming in. “They have rectified their mistake by giving them tickets to the Grammy Museum, which will be available only for the next 48 hours.”

“But we will be at Hello82,” confronts Wooyoung.

“Yes, Wooyoung-ssi. But that isn’t until after 11 am, which means, if we leave now, we can stop by the Grammy Museum, where Yungho can leave anchors and Wooyoung can scent mark the area. Then after we leave Hello82, we all can go back and see if anyone is waiting before you have to report back to BMO.”

“But what if she leaves before we get there or comes after we leave? What if she doesn’t come at all? She might have been one of those non-stan friends that just went to have fun. It doesn’t mean she will come to the museum,” worries Wooyoung.

Pulling Wooyoung into his lap, San holds him close, saying, “My baby, you knew Yeosang was your soulmate before the two of you found us, right?”

Wooyoung nodded and went to speak, only for San to grip his neck, effectively silencing him as he continued, “She has to feel something from last night. No matter if she was a fan or not. Having a bonded group the size of ours is not something easily resisted. Like Little Bear said, she is a smart cookie, and I am sure her curiosity about or love for us will push her to come to the museum at some point today.”

“Now be a good boy and go with our Big Bear to help us find our missing lady-mate,” San orders with a kiss to Wooyoung’s temple.

With San’s orders, the meeting wraps up rather quickly. Everyone but Wooyoung and Yunho pile into the main van to head up the Hello82, while the manager, two personal bodyguards, and WooYu head to the museum.

Being the ever-efficient manager that he is, the museum waits for their arrival and ushers them inside quickly. Then, the museum directs the group up the elevator to the correct floor. It still sends a fluttering feel through the idols to see their stuff on display for any Atiny to come and see.

Stopping in front of their exhibit, the attendant looks around. “Mr. Jung, you can go ahead. The museum has already been informed that you need to make contact with the different pieces, we just ask that you refrain from touching non-Ateez related items.”

With that, Wooyoung takes off with a bodyguard, touching everything and doing anything he can. Of course, he leaves heavier markers on his personal items on display.

“There aren’t places to sit down and wait around here. Are there, miss?” Yunho asks with a frown.

She shakes her head and states, “This museum isn’t like most. People spend maybe an hour looking at everything before they might make a purchase downstairs and leave. We have thought about finding a bigger venue but not yet.”

Disappointment blooms in Yunho’s chest. How can he make an anchor for his ladymate with an injured foot when she must stand the whole time? Taking his time walking around all their old stuff, he notices someone turning on a TV screen that shows the making of their music videos, then walks around another wall where he hears rather loud talking.

His curiosity peaks as he follows the worker to find a documentary playing to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Michael Jackson’s mini-movie music video Thriller…with backless benches!

“Woo! Wooyoung!” called Yunho, surprising his soulmate.

“Yeah? What is it, Yunho?” he asks, coming around the same corner. “Oh, isn’t that the famous King of Pop guy?”

“Huh? Oh yes but here. Benches. I can leave the anchor here,” remarks Yunho, no longer caring about the video.

Looking down at the benches, Wooyoung has a befuddled look on his face. “Really? This is an entirely different exhibit.”

“I know that but if she is really our soulmate, she has to have an interest in music. Anyone who is anyone that loves music would want to at least look at the rest of the exhibits on this level plus its a famous video. Also, if she is hurt like Mingi says then she will need to sit down and this is the only place to sit on this level.”

“Valid. I guess this will work. Maybe you can leave another anchor on the first floor at the gift shop, too? Maybe it will cause her to linger here for longer?”

“That is a good idea, too. Okay, let me anchor here while you finish up, and then we will anchor and scent the same spot on the first floor.”

Closing his eyes, Yunho reaches into his soul and pushes down. Down from his head, down through his heart to his feet, and latches onto the floor. Most of the world doesn’t understand what it takes to set an anchor for soulmates with the ability to anchor. The anchor must leave three things behind a piece of their soul, mind, and heart.

Once he is done, Yunho heads back to the elevator and heads back down with everyone. Stepping out of the elevator, they notice people have started to line up outside. Dawning their masks and bucket hats, Wooyoung and Yunho get to work quickly, choosing a place near their merch to scent and anchor before slipping out the back and heading off to Hello82.

The Hello82 event is a blur for Ateez. They try really hard to be in the now and not in the shoulda, coulda, woulda's of the past or the gonna, needas, and bettas of the future. Seonghwa even goes as far as pretending to be a stan and gets signatures from the rest of the band.

It feels like an eternity before they say goodbye to the fantastic Atiny attending the event and head to the Grammy Museum. It amazes them every time they hold these events at how packed the rooms are and the stans that just hang outside for a glimpse. The ride is filled with chatter about the outfits they saw Atiny wear.

Hongjoon mentions that he can smell pine, but it is incredibly faint and could have been a cleaning product or the scent that had lingered from the day before. None of the rest had gotten any hints that their missing ladymate had attended the event, which put them on edge and filled their heads with what-ifs.

Again, the museum staff knew Ateez would be coming, but they had been instructed to refrain from making announcements or attempting to draw a crowd. They entered through a rear entrance and stood in a stock room, waiting for their manager or a museum attendant to take the lead.

It’s not until Hongjoon takes a deep breath that he smells it and says, “Pine, it's here and still kinda burnt. It’s different from anyone here but close to Mingi’s Maritime Pine. I can’t tell how fresh it is from here. Let’s go in groups. Yunho and Jongho, come with Hwa and I. Yeo, Mingi, Wooyoung go together. San, I know you can pin better when you are on your own, is that good?”

With agreements all around, San heads out first, followed by Mingi’s group and the last is Captain’s group.

San’s ability to find unique vibrations and sounds that non-pinning soulmates can’t hear or feel helps with their music and keeps everyone on tempo. It's hard to hear the resonance of a new soulmate ring back in a venue like BMO. Getting to the correct floor, San is grateful that there are not many people present. However, the lack of people also worries him.

Reaching within himself, San finds a new tune, a lifting melody, to ping out. It's like a sea shanty and hopefully will resonate with the missing ladymate.

Nothing.

Moving towards the farther side of the exhibition, he tries again.

Nothing.

With a frustrated sigh, San promises to find the ladymate and acknowledge the red thread that binds them all. Hongjoong said pine was here, which means the missing mate was in this building at some point since scents can flow through the vents, unlike his pinning. For it to work, a direct path must be open between San and his new soulmate.

Looking up at the elevator doors as they open, San shakes his head to alert Mingi, who stepped out first, that he wasn’t getting anything. Pointing to the stairs, the other two mates nod in understanding and watch San head to a lower floor.

Wooyoung, at this point, feels useless in helping any more than he has. He just hoped that his scent caused the ladymate to linger. The longer she stayed, the higher chance she was still here and would react to another ability within the bonded group.

Mingi is in the same boat. He always hated that he gained one of the passive abilities of the mate bonds. With how helpless he felt about it earlier in their career, he had taken a hiatus and heavily contemplated breaking the bond. It was Yunho who convinced him otherwise. He claimed Mingi as his center, like SanWoo, JonYeo, and HongHwa claimed each other. But who would be the ladymate’s center?

Walking around their exhibition was like a flash from the not-so-distant past. Mingi enjoyed watching a small Atiny try to dance along with the music video playing on a TV on the wall before he heard another TV going behind him. Following the sound, Mingi found himself watching a documentary completely in English about the King of Pop.

Figuring he could sit for a bit and watch it while Yeosang did his thing, Mingi plopped down on one of the backless benches, and that was when the pain started. It wasn’t like it was at BMO, but it was present. It was almost like his missing soulmate had sat there and just dumped all the pain out into the space.

“Gi, I can’t find anything,” Yeosang and Wooyoung say, walking up to him in the slightly secluded view room. It’s Woo who notices Mingi’s pained expression.

“Gi, are you alright? Is it you, or is it our ladymate?” Wooyoung says, kneeling before Mingi and grabbing his hand to comfort him. His eyes are filled with concern. Smiling with a pained brow, he tells the two about what he feels and suspects has happened.

“Maybe she overdid it last night, and coming here didn’t help,” offers the youngest. “She may be more stubborn than we thought. It is interesting that she can just leave her pain here though. I have never heard of that ability.”

“Are you going to be able to walk, Gi?” questions Yeosang.

“What’s wrong with Gi?” Hwa asks, coming around the corner with his grouping.

After listening to Mingi explain what San had signaled and what he felt, Hwa became more determined to find his ladymate. Not only is she missing, but she (in his mind) is gravely injured. “Emotional resonance from a soulmate only lasts maybe 20 minutes at max. She was just here. Yunho?”

“My anchor is gone. She must have absorbed it from this room when she rested here. Let’s go down to the merch area and see if the anchor is still there,” suggested Yunho.

With that, everyone took the elevator down and followed Yunho. Closing his eyes, Yunho reached for his other anchor and found that it, too, was missing. Shaking his head with his eyes downcast, he realizes there is nothing else he can do. His anchors weren’t strong enough to keep their ladymate from leaving.

“Her pine is here. She was here,” Hongjoong declares quietly, trying not to bring a crowd.

“You aren’t wrong, love. I can feel the pull again. Mingi?” Hwa asks, eyes imploring the gentle giant, who nods in agreement but is leaning against Yunho because of the pain now concentrated in his ankle.

“The plaited silk rope is back!” exclaims Yeosang. “I can feel it, but I can’t tug on it. She is still too far away, do you think she left the building?”

The slightly winded San speedwalks to the group, “She is outside. I think she is headed to the parking garage. Let’s go. NOW.”

“San, take Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho with you. Stay together. The rest of us will come with Mingi.” This sends a flash of confusion across San’s face as he looks at Mingi with questioning and worried eyes. “

“I will explain later,” commands Hongjoong as he takes on the role of captain in situations like this.

At his words, half the bonded group practically jogs out of the museum and onto the streets of downtown LA. Bodyguards discreetly follow behind them so as not to interfere with their search.

The rest of the group follows at a quickened walk. Mingi is clearly limping, which doesn’t go unnoticed by some fellow museum attendees. The stunned looks, pointed cell phones, and not-so-hush-hush squealing tell them they have been found out.

Looking over his shoulder, Hongjoong sees their manager and the last bodyguards starting to head off the fans attempting to approach. Under different circumstances, Ateez would gladly stop and meet their international Atiny, but they had a soulmate to catch.

The whole ride back to your friend’s house is spent staring at the ungodly amount of photos and videos you took. Of course, they were mainly of Seonghwa and San, but what shocked you was the surprising number of Mingi shots you had.

“Hey, I know we have talked about who our favorites are. Mine are Seonghwa and San. Yours, Kat, is Hongjoong. Cindy, you have two like me… Yeosang and Jongho, right?” you suddenly call out from the backseat.

“Damn, Y/n, you’re alive? I thought we had lost you to post-concert depression already. The first time is the worst,” joked Kat.

“Ha. ha. I am just editing my photos and stuff. It’s strange, though. I have so many of Mingi,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“We soooo should have done the pre/post bias TikTok trend,” laughs Cindy. “I think Someone lost their place in y/n’s heart.”

“Nono. No. The majority is still of my Hwa and my mountain. It’s just that there is an almost equal amount of Mingi. Was he hurt before the concert? In this video it looks like he is limping,” your chest tugs at the thought of Mingi being hurt as you show the video to the front seat at the stop light.

“Huh, you’re right. It does look like it,” comments Kat, taking your phone and flipping through your photos. “Looks like your boyfriends and Mingi kept to our side of the stage, which is unusual.”

“I noticed that during the concert. My pretty boys kept running to the other side. That is why I stopped trying to take pictures,” huffs Cindy.

Driving the additional 30 minutes home felt like pulling your ankle off at the joint. Guess this is what you get from trying to dress like a pirate and wearing heeled boots on uneven grass.

Climbing into bed, you put ice on your swollen ankle sprain and take more painkillers. You had been taking them all night after being shoved by some impatient twinks that wanted to get past the merch line.

Your boot heel had sunk into a hole or made its own from how long you had been standing there. You went down hard, and your foot was instantly in pain, but you swallowed it down because you were not about to ruin this for Cindy or Kat.

Sleep comes quickly and is filled with Matz stealing you away for a night on the town, SanWoo cuddling with you while you watch movies, Twin Towers treating you to a beautiful dinner, and even JonYeo walking with you along the beach.

RingRingRingRing

Buzz,Buzz,Buzzzzzzzzz

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK

“What… the… HELL,” you scream at the coarse and abrupt sounds waking you from your amazing dreams. Dragging your not-awake-yet ass to the front door, still clad in your PJs and limping slightly, you jerk open the door to find Cindy and Kat standing there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

“Jesus! You rose from the dead. Finally,” Kat says with a laugh, handing you something in a bag and pushing past you.

“Here,” Cindy smiles and hands you your favorite Starbucks drink. “It has an extra two shots.”

After taking a long drink of the Cafe Vanilla Frap, you close the door and stare at the two soon-to-be-ex friends, “You have one chance to tell me why you are here, or I will kick you out.”

“Grumpy butt,” mutters Kat.

“We tried calling and texting for the last two hours, but we don’t have much time before we catch our plane back to Washington,” pleads Cat. “We brought treats to apologize, but we figured you would want to take advantage of the free tickets to the Ateez exhibit at Grammy Museum that we were comp-ed.”

Sitting on the couch, you pull out the Sausage and Cheddar Muffin from Starbucks. Okay, they get bonus points for getting the right one. “Keep talking. You said they are comp-ed? How?” you question before taking a large bite from the yummy breakfast treat.

Pulling out her phone, Kat reads over an email she got from BMO apologizing for their shit directions and causing several attendees to miss performances. As compensation, they gave each ticket holder a ticket.

“If we leave here in the next 10 minutes, we can make it there. We have about three hours to meander and get you back in time for our plane. We already packed the rental car with all our stuff,” explains Cindy.

“Hence, why we're practically breaking down your door. Let's wrap your ankle, get you in some clothes, and you can finish eating in the car,” Kat says as they head down the hall to your room.

After finally deciding to wear jeans and the tour sleeveless shirt you bought, you wrapped your ankle and donned tennis shoes, and out the door, you went. Oh, and painkillers were on board, too. That was a must.

The drive took about an hour, which gave you plenty of time to discuss each other's concert-induced dreams. It was a relief that you weren’t the only one because that meant either you were completely normal, or your friends were just as delusional as you are.

It’s lovely how, even with a GPS, it is still challenging to find places in cities like Hollywood and LA. All the tall buildings block signals. It’s irritating how we can put Bluetooth cameras in sunglasses now, but we can’t get GPS signals through a building yet.

At this point, Cindy has given up on the GPS recalculating at every street, and the three of you are just looking for something that may resemble a museum. That’s when you feel something, like a pull or a nudge, to look to your right. “There it is! Next to that, Fixin something something restaurant.”

“Wow, that's a good eye! I would have never seen it,” says Kat, who is sitting on the same side as you. “I guess the museum is smaller than what I was looking for. It looks just like an office building. How did you see that?”

“I don know. I just had a feeling and looked then poof there it was,” you giggle. “Anyways, let’s park in the structure and head in. Maybe my ankle will chill out if I use it a bit more. Right now, it is not happy, that is for sure.”

Unlike finding the place, parking was a piece of cake. Grabbing your concert bag you hadn’t unpacked last night; you smile at the plushie and photocards hanging off it.

“Are you still happy I got SANdeoki instead of DDEONGbyeoli? I only got her because you had recently been sending me a lot of Instagram links of San, and she is purple, " Cindy asks.

Bringing SANdeoki up to your face, you hug and kiss her on the forehead. “I love her. I was thinking now that I have her and the face card holder, I am starting to look like a real Atiny.” That pulls laughs from everyone as you head up to finally see and learn more about these eight Korean men who crashed into your world of music.

It is interesting how having those two Ateez items on a cross-body bag is the green light for any random Atiny to start talking to you. Between the car and getting to the correct floor of the museum, you got a few waves, a couple of finger hearts, and some short conversations.

Of course, Cindy and Kat knew this would happen and flowed right with everything, but you, on the other hand, were a little taken back. However, once you explained that you were a baby Atiny, the randos calmed down and became encouraging.

Once you redeemed your ticket, the staff directed you to the right floor and pointed out the elevator. When the doors opened, your face lit up. You hear playful scoffing from behind you as Kat says, “Oh no. Y/n is in heaven now. Not only does she get to see Ateez's stuff, but they also have the MJ thing still up.”

“Hey, what can I say? I am ployJAMorus,” you comment. Kat isn’t wrong. You loved Michael Jackson and the Jackson 5. Most of your music tastes were before your time until K-pop came along. “Ateez first, then MJ, and then we can check out the other levels if you guys want. With how small this place is, I am sure we can see the whole place in less than an hour.”

And that is what you did.

The music video costumes, props, and Ateez's history were all there, and you read everything. You also saw some stuff from Xikers, who you learned were from KQ Entertainment, considered the next gen of K-pop and dongsaengs to Ateez.

“Y/n, are you trying to smell Wooyoung’s clothes or do you just normally sniff glass?” Kat asks with her arms crossed. “Cindy, I think y/n needs to touch some grass. The concert overloaded her normal OS.”

“What?” You snap out of it. “I wasn’t trying to sniff his clothes. If I’d sniff anyone’s clothes, it would be Seonghwa’s. Get it right. I just noticed the excellent pine scent in this area, almost like those Christmas tree candles from the Yankee Candle Company.”

Slightly embarrassed, you take a deep breath to smell it again but play it off as a stretch while rolling your ankle around. Frowning, you note that it hasn’t stopped throbbing, but you still want to look around. Limping your way over to the Michael Jackson side of the floor, you check out all the jeweled jackets he once wore.

Gosh, you knew you would get excited to see all the cool stuff because music would have been your life if you had any confidence in yourself. The tingling in your chest and the calmness of being surrounded by greatness is warming.

Turning around a corner, you notice a mini theater that practically pulls you in. Nothing is playing on the screen, but there are benches where you can at least rest to give your ankle a break. Once seated, you close your eyes, take a deep, centering breath, fill your lungs with that calming pine, and try to relax every muscle in your body.

Mind over matter has been your practice in life.

As you feel each muscle release, a sense of kinship comes over you. It’s not long before you relax from head to toe, settling restless thoughts and sore muscles along the way. Luckily for you, the pain in your ankle subsides.

By the time you open your eyes, Cindy and Kat have joined you, and the screen is playing a documentary on Thriller. You convince your friends to stay and watch it because that music video was the pinnacle of changing the direction of how things were done, and you felt like you were supposed to stay.

When the show was over, though, they decided it was time to move on, and you really couldn’t tell them you were content with just sitting there without sounding strange.

However, when you left, the feeling of kinship stayed with you. It even grew when you got to the souvenir store near the main entrance. Sadly, there wasn’t much within your price range to buy. You kept returning to the Ateez mech, wanting to buy something but never feeling like you had found what kept you coming back.

Cindy and Kat, complaining about being hungry, finally pulled you away from the store and over to what you now know as Fixins Soul Kitchen. It was pretty much an expensive “Hollywood” take on Roscoe's Chicken ‘n’ Waffles. Since you have already eaten breakfast on the way down, you decide to get a salad and chat about everything and anything you can think of.

Full bellies, good memories, and great friends are a fantastic way to end Cindy and Kat’s trip. You, of course, pay for everyone’s meal and a final gift and meander out to the sidewalk.

“Hey, look at the crowd outside of the museum,” Kat comments. Feeling that strange pull to the building, you move to walk towards it.

“Either it was a good thing we came early because it is more popular than we thought or someone famous is inside. Kinda wish we had more time to check it out but we gotta get going if we are going to get you home and catch the plane on time,” says Cindy almost wistfully.

“Yeah,” you absentmindedly say as the strangest feeling comes over you. It’s like a ghost-like tug pulls at your chest while a melody plays in your head that you know you have never heard of before.

“Earth to Y/n! We gotta go unless you wanna pay like $60 for an Uber home,” Cindy remarks, regaining your attention. Shaking your head and rubbing your chest, you turn away from the crowd and follow your friends to the parking garage.

What is going on with you, you contemplate. Yesterday, you felt like you didn’t want to leave BMO stadium, but today, you don’t want to leave the Grammy Museum. Are you that music or socially deprived that you want to hold on to everything?

The tugging in your chest strengthens with each foot forward, slowing your steps. It feels like a thick rope binding you and pulling you back the other way, but you know your friends have limited time, and you can’t afford the Uber.

You softly start to hum the melody that is crescendoing in your mind, blocking out the excited commotion and hurried steps approaching you. You are so in your own thoughts, with your eyes naturally cast downwards, that seeing the world around you ends until you run into a wall.

Putting your hands on the wall you ran into… it feels kinda warm. Blinking yourself back into the world around you, the first thing you notice is that the wall is wearing… shoes.

Startled and embarrassed by walking right into someone, you step back and drop your hand from their body. However, you find yourself running into someone else as their warm hands fall on your cold arms. Snapping your head up, you see the muscled man in front of you for a split second before you look over your shoulder at the person behind you.

Freezing in place. You think yourself crazy until you catch the movement of someone else.

No.

No way.

Looking to your right and left, recognizable Korean men surround you, but it can't be. Panic starts to settle in as you finally hear the commotion around you. That is when more men join the circle encompassing you.

Taking a step forward gets halted by the man at your back saying, “Wait, please.”

“This isn’t real,” you say softly, your eyes never settling on any men boxing you in.

With a warm smile, the mountain of a man steps forward and says, “Hello Miss, I am Choi San. I think the nine of us need to sit down and talk.”

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