#and they just started acting like he knows better than me about MY job
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I've had a very fun and fruitful conversation with @allfearstofallto and she had some very strong reactions for a story about yandere Diluc and Tartaglia that has been marinating in my mind for a while now. I'll just give you a brief version of my idea.
You and the 11th Fatui Harbinger are to be wed. With your freedom stripped away from you and with your wedding date fast approaching, you are working tirelessly to escape the Harbinger's grasp.
However, even with your freedom stripped away, even if you have no autonomy on your own, there's an inkling in your heart in which you cannot hate your captor. He is far too kind and gentle towards you, the way in which he treats you makes your heart swell with a plethora of emotions.
But enough is enough.
You need to leave. Fast.
One evening, you act sweeter, more submissive than usual. Your fiancee eats it up and is delighted by this change in attitude. His happiness is evident because now things can proceed without a hitch. Don't worry darling, you won't be anywhere near his work. He'll keep you safe, fed and loved.
All he asks in return is to be in your heart. Love him. Love him, please. It's a hard request, a selfish one even, he knows this.
He can make it up to you. He can and he will.
He promises.
You kiss him in bed, telling him that you understand. Your eyes shift towards the hidden suitcase in the corner as you feel the drugs start to kick in. Tartaglia is fast asleep, and you finally taste the sweetness of freedom.
The man wakes up the next morning in a daze. The bed is empty and cold.
His heart shatters into a million pieces. He roars out your name like a wounded animal, his throat sore and bleeding from the pain.
He must find you.
Meanwhile, you made your way towards the City of Freedom.
You settle in, find a job, a place to live in. It's hard but you manage.
You ignore the lingering presence that you feel behind you when you're alone at night. You're making it all up, you keep telling yourself.
No one is following you.
One evening, you enter a cozy tavern. You order a drink and it is prepared by a handsome, albeit stoic bartender. You manage to get him to open up. He introduces himself as Diluc, the owner of the fine establishment in which you sat in.
How neat.
Due to various different factors, after a short while Diluc takes you in. He is patient and strict. It's an improvement.
You don't know about his ever growing obsession with you. You don't know about the endless sea of portraits he has of you. He keeps it all hidden well under wraps.
Regardless, Diluc is still only human. It's only natural that his jealousy would bubble up and rear in its ugly head from time to time.
Dawn Winery is in a way, forced to attend a massive social gathering. Diplomats from the North are everywhere and, of course, Tartaglia spots you in the crowd.
Even if his eyes were to be plucked out, he would always manage to recognize you.
Tensions rise and the danger of bloodlust reeks in the air. Much to his chagrin, Childe cannot simply just kill Diluc and be done with it.
He is being forced to play Mr Nice Diplomat.
Oh the horror, being stuck between these two.
Now, since this has the potential to be long as fuck, I was thinking of making it into a multiple part story. The best name I could come up with it so far was "A Song of Ice and Fire". I'm open to title names, if someone has better ideas. An important note to add would be that this would be a serious commitment for me as I haven't done a story like this in years. Chapter updates would probably take me a long time due to my job and potential lack of energy, but this idea has been in my brain for years now, which is a clear sign that I'm passionate about it. And, my question is - would you like for me to make this story come to life?
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TVOGXART corporation, what the heck is it (a master post)
(reblogs help my posts be seen :)
TVOGXART (The Vice Overruling Guardian Axis of Alliance Reverant Territories) corp. are globally known as being the best of the best when it comes to world development milestones that uses funds generated from each ministry's operations to make the world a better place. Most notable are its progress towards enviromental/land conservation. Even it's offices within the areas are built to accomodate for the land.
This however, is all a front. TVOG corp is a THE largest underground crime syndicate that currently rules over a majority of the entire world's fair trade market and societal operations.
They control the whole crime world, kind of like a pyramid of shady business chains, it all links back to The TVOG. They are a crime organization that literally organizes crime.
The Ministry of Order, ruled by Captain Bailfalse, is located where the GOVT (in the orignal thsc universe) stationed their army. Only this time, there are huge office buildings and foundations are built around the landscape of the tropical forest. Capt. Bailfalse may be a crime lord but he was very honest about actually conserving the enviroment. Though that virtue isn't shared amongst the other chairmen.
Btw on top of being a politely cold evil man ceo he is also VERY SILLY when being with his personal henchman, Charles Rebelivin... Who wishes his boss would act more serious whenever they're together
(More bios for each chairman (and Charles) below read more) (with art!!!)(cw. blood n eyes)
🎧Charles Rebelivin - Director in management (Ministry of Order)
"The first thing a new recruit at The Ministry of Order is told by other TVOG employees that they can always ask Mr. Rebelivin for help. The second thing theyre told is that they cannot always ask Mr. Rebelivin for bathroom breaks"
Color Motif: Primarily Red, with bits of The TVOG's turquoise green
To me, an opposite Charles Calvin is someone who just hates their fucking job lmao. This guy is not at all laid back, or enjoys jokes, or buffoonery. He has to be the one who schedules and organizes everything in the Ministry of Order so that operations run smoothly and cleanly as possible.
He genuinely WANTS to be a good director for the employees. They know that too. Its just that he's learned to be better at controlling people rather than connecting with them. At the start of the hv au story, he's "content" being alone.
Charles R is 30 years old by the time the hv au takes place. He USED to be the youngest employee at the TVOGXART, but that was a title given to him like. 5+ years ago. He's been working here for a while, he doesn't care for it anymore and finds the title insulting.
He expects the best from his employees. And expects the best from himself. Very loyal to his position as The Captain's henchman, and a complete workaholic. Could kill a guy if The Captain told him too, and his only form of questioning is asking how he shall do it. Acts as his guard dog that The Captain smothers, much to his annoyance. Je protects his boss regardless and scares the other chairmen.
Is also very formal with titles, usually referring to people by their surname and position of power. Is prone to using terms such as "The Captain, captain, sir" when talking to Bailfalse. Has used words such as "Greatest" sarcastically, and "buddy, pal" passive agressively, usually on Henry V (though eventually, the whole buddy thing becomes genuine as they develop their friendship. Still going to be grump no matter what though but affectionate ok).
Also expect to see less of greatest plan inverses, and more just so Charles learning how to be a decent friend within the Trio-V. It's awesome ghrhrg I can't wait to share them :)
👑Captain Hubert Bailfalse (Ministry of Order)
"A smooth talking salesman that has climbed up the social economic ladder to take control over all operations in the whole world. He believes in the value of good work ethic and polite ettiquettes."
Hedonist.
Plant motif: venus flytrap
He's a silly guy I love him. He inverses Galeforce being serious but considerate and honest general, with Bailfalse being a relaxed but devious and convicing CEO. Though take note: he is the only chairman amongst the rest to not have come from a well-off or rich family.
He also doesn't carry Galeforce's trope of being a "father to his men." Sees his employees as expendable numbers. But not to the level of mistreatment like with the other charimen. He pays them, hes pateint, offers them dental plans, and makes sure they'll be able to perform efficiently for the whole period they work for him. And that's as much care as he's willing to put for anybody else other than pleassure for himself.
...Except for Charles. He cares alot for Charles. And he's not subtle about it too. As his personal henchman for the longest time, he's prone to using titles such as "My boy, Charlie, sport" when talking to him. Much to Charles' own annoyance. They're literally competent henchman + silly hammy villain (with a dose of terrifying if the situation came down to it). He likes to spoil the director with riches and gifts for all the work he's done for The TVOG, even though Charles doesn't want them.
He is married to Hans Nonayme and they are literalllyyyy evil old man yaoi. augh im obsessed with them. They nuzzle eachothers mustaches and it makes them smile :) Even in public. Which adds to Charles' embarrasment to have them as his bosses.
He is also DIVORCED To Dr. Dimitri J. Pavlov. But I'll talk abt that another time.
👁️Chairman Hans Nonayme (Ministry of Privacy)
All-watching.
Plant motif: Oriental Bittersweet
He manages the cameras. All of them. Everywhere, and all at once. He's very giddy about it and enjoys the surveliance he has over every part of the world. The Ministry of Privacy was meant to protect people's identities and personal information, and yet Hans knows a little too much about everybody, no matter who you ask about. I'm sure he has employees that also monitor the cameras, but rn I've mainly just been visualizing him doing it lone.
His cameras are meant to look like both flowers and the berries on a Orteinal Bittersweet vine, a type of invasive plant. These things are creeping EVERYWHERE in the hv au universe if you look for them. The Cowwoy Posse take great meassures to destroy the cameras if spotted.
They don't make themselves known. However, if any TVOG employee (mainly Charles) sees them, their lenses blink rapidly in sucession. Which is Hans' own cheeky way of giggling at them. He does this in real life too with his own eyes. He's so weird, I love him alot.
He's actually based off this guy from the original THSC legacy edition. I always thought it was creepy how the GOVT had a whole spy camera inside of Stickmin's computer just watching his activity, and then had the guy stationed outside his home. I thought that was kinda interesting and just exaggerated his character from there. And made him gay and evil, cuz I can
💥Chairman Victoria Grin (Ministry of Peace)
Violent.
Plant motif: Lily of The Valley
Oh she's messed up in the head. I like to believe that Victoria Grit is, while rough and tempered, is at least not malevolent and going out of her way to cause pure violence like Victoria Grin does. So there's that. Grin is also completely unreasoanble and pretty immature.
The chairman also dreses very fancy but isn't afraid to throw herself into a fight if she's bored with all the meeting and agreements and treaties she has to do amongst the other crime syndicates and blah blah blah SHES BOREDD she wants to pull out her Peacemaker (A giant Fucking bazooka) and threaten people to sign their names on the forms already so she can go back to the more action stuff like beating up those pesky goody two-shoes cowboys getting on her nerves.
Hubert can't stand how immpatient and unnessarily blood thirsty she can be, though admires her for at least being able to establish the connections The TVOG has with other factions, both in crime related operations or just regular business stuff. It helps to strengthen the grasp they have over the world.
Known as "Vicky" amongst the other chairmen. She likes to kiss Hydia Stash, and are evil little girlfriends together. She makes jokes about swinging with Hershell Proctor's wife Mrs. Proctor to peeve him. And she loves bullying HJ Carterbunny
🐇Chairman H.J Carterbunny (Ministry of Security)
Cowardly.
Plant motif: Jumping Cactus
To say he's in charge of the Ministry of Security would be putting his leadership skills too high of a pedestal.
Hj is so pathetic. so very very pathetic. He is scared at the slightest things and his immediate instinct is to run away as far from the danger and wait until its gone. Or barricade himself somewhere. Which is why he's so efficient at the Ministry of Security, he's really just listing all the worst case scenario someone could break in. And his employees, while very tired and skeptical, add it anyways. Most of the time he doesnt trust that they did it well enough and try to add MORE security protocols, which only make them weaker as a whole.
If their defences are breached, Hj just ditches his employees to self-preserve himself, and puts the failure on them before taking responsibility as their chairman. He never considers himself as a a factor for his hubris. And so they all hate Hj in their own little ways <3 because he self sabotages their work and also because he regularly abandons them if they get attacked.
Just to ramble: One time Regal Bronzeage, local superhero, managed to fight all five of the employees all at once. And when he was ready to fight their chairman, he found that the guy had already left. not even in like a vechile he's just hiding in a tiny supply closet hoping nobody finds him
He has a brother who works in the Police Force Enforcement Force, Warden Roland Carterbunny. Roland is probably the one who made Hj so paranoid in the first place, and his psyche just got worse from there. He got bullied alot by him when they were kids, and Hj is the eldest one here. He might not even be that old, it's just that he was stressed so fucking much that all his hair turned grey when he turned 20.
Just to ramble: Dr Dimitri honestly pities the guy, even though he's literally a TVOG chairman. He just wants to sit this guy down and go into detail on how to properly handle his over abundance of anxiety. Cuz all day all the time none of the chairmen or most of his own employees (Aside form Gordon) care enough to actually handle his stress in a healthy sort of way. But he'll never get the chance because they're on opposing sides, and Hj doesn't trust anyone enough to let them do anything to him.
He could have turned out pretty fine, if still riddled with anxiety like everybody else. If it weren't for the literal fact that all his colleages are TERRIBLE and his own brother being absolutely terrible to him, whether enabling or belitting him.
💸Chairman Hydia Stash (Ministry of Wealth)
Greedy.
Plant motif: Sun Pitcher Plant
She loves being rich. That's it. That's the whole bio.
Jk, she takes it to the extreme. It doesn't matter what she has in her vaults, whether it be dollars, gold coins, gems even. It's not enough. She needs, MORE valauble things. And I'm talking the most insanely scalped items. Beanie babies, Funko pops, houses, land. She needs EVERYTHING.
The Ministry of Wealth is actually meant to help distribute funds across all operations, both inside The TVOG and to other affilated factions. They also work to account for funds and general ledging of their budget. Her plant motif of a pitcher plant symbolizes how ever consuming she can be.
Hydia is the worst to have as a chairman honestly. Cannot be expected to always pay her employees. She's quick to irritate and quicker to throw a tantrum about it. She also likes kissing Victoria.
In the hv au lore, Reginald Bronzepants is a journalist for the Cowwoy Posse who worked with Lt. HRM to help publish their investigations together, busting various crime syndicates. And well, everything links back to The TVOG. Hydia HATED this drop in revenue she was losing (it was 15 dollars) from her billion dollar generating Ministry. And so, without The Captain's permission, she enacts an unauthorized assassination of Reginald Bronzepants. Just to ease her worries. Surely this won't bite her in the ass later. Surely he won't come back as an electricity-wielding, local superhero, will he?
🧠Chairman Hershell Proctor (Ministry of Education)
Dismissive.
Plant motif: Psilocybin mushrooms
Ok to explain real quick, I inversed Hershell Panzer's roll of being a brute so that Hershell Proctor could be the brains. He has thrown himself into every field of study imaginable and has excelled in every course, which in his (super huge) mind, makes him a well respectable genius. He's firm in his belief that his intelligence makes him better than everybody else. He doesn't do anything to share his knowledge or teach them to others, he wants to hoard it for himself. No one else is allowed to be as smart as him
Oh, but don't think that being an iverse for physical strength automatically makes him weaker. What he lacks in any arm and torso muscles, he has an inner working system in his brain full of so many studies and so many wrinkles. I won't explain the full extent of his mental powers, but just know that it does involve psychic abilities :)
The Ministry of Education controls the information that's permitted to be shared across the world. There's some information that The TVOG keep hidden (sometimes their own secrets or an external entity) inside the Ministry of Education's archives, guarded by Dave Pampalooza. They front as an education system that protects the sacrecy of accessible knowledge.
Does not have the best relationship with his family. And has so much seething rage towards what Hubert has and what he doesn't. Caused a certain.....incident, to prove he's the smartest of all.
HONORABLE MENTIONS:
Jefferson Mythsonian
"No one really knows if he exists"
Rules Division 17 of the TVOG, has some really terrible handwriting
Carterbunny's bodyguards - and only employees (Ministry of Security)
Chrm. Carterbunny only has 5 employees cuz if he has to maange more than 5 he Gets Scared. They ensure all TVOG owned and affiliated security protocals are working as intended.
Current members are: John Skimmilk (codename: The Fly), Gordon Debunks (codename: The Urchin), Amelia Estefort (codename: The Jellyfish), Amelia Estefort (codename: The Jellyfish), Cece Teevee (codename: The Lizard), & Kayn East (codename: The Rat)
- Will be talked about in seperate post
(They are the HV AU equivalent ot the squad Stickmin has in MBH)
Scott McCoolsvile - Tax accountant (Ministry of Wealth)
Coolest fucking guy here. He's so awesome and the best at his job. He helps his fellow colleages in his office and the employees over at Ministry of Order whenever he visits. Everyone cheers and claps when he visits. They all love him and says he has the best name (Not Charles R though, he hates that guy. Totally). He works in accounting
--BTW girl pictured with ponytail and cardigan judging Hydia is my friend's oc Jynx (more art) @digital-roots (they/them) GO EHM check it out too Jynx is sooo swag i love her concept and I love her character alot.
The scene is based off this interaction we had.
Capt. Bailfalse's personal henchmen (The Trio-V: Ministry of Order)
"Consisting of one puppeteer, one emo, and one grump, these three are usually sent for very important missions only. And depending on how well they cooperate, may be able to finish them."
The Trio-V of: Henry Ventriloquest, Rose Ellisha, and Charles Rebelivin.
- Will be talked about in seperate post
Johnny Proctor (Police Force Enforcement Force)
Has seen better days when his friends Dave Pampalooza and Rupert Phred were still around. After Dave was sent to the Ministry of Education to work as a TVOG employee, and Rupert quitting a week later, a certain.....Incident. Happened. The Pampalooza Incident involving new re-education methods with Hershell Proctor. Johnny has cut off all contact with his father after that.
- Will be talked about in seperate post
If you have questions uhm. feel free to leave them in my ask box :) i love talking about my hv au. Thank you for reading
#berenmon art#my art#henry ventriloquest au#charles rebelivin#hubert bailfalse#hans nonayme#victoria grin#hj carterbunny#hydia stash#hershell proctor#scott mccoolsvile#henry ventriloquest#rose ellisha#//AUGHHHHHH that was alot of tags. they wont even mean much. cuz theyre not the canon names. but they deserve to be tagged. for me#thsc au#charles calvin au#charles calvin#hubert galeforce#victoria grit#hj canterbury#hershell panzer#thsc oc#thsc fanart#henry stickmin collection#henry stickmin fanart#henry stickmin#thsc fandom#thsc fanfic#opposite au#mirror au
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❝ PERSONAL ❞
║Y. SHIO
➲ʙᴏꜱꜱ! ꜱʜɪᴏ ʏᴏᴛꜱᴜʀᴜɢɪ x ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟ ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
⊠ Tags ➢
NSFW AHEAD, Unprofessional workplace relations, Staged public humiliation, Secret relationships, Shio being a jerk at first, Office sex, Reader wears a skirt, Oral sex (f! Receiving), Orgasm denial, Missionary, "Sir" usage as a kink name, Tongue play, Vocal kink, Rough sex, No lube, Unprotected sex, breeding, Accidental Voyeurism.
⊠ Word count ➢ 1455
You stared dully from your office at the Yotsurugi meeting room, leaning on one hand.
Having lost count how many coffees you had so far to stay awake, the boredom was driving you insane, for his own unmentioned reasons, Shio didn't allow you to attend the meeting or help him in any way concerning it despite that being your job, now that you have already finished all your work there's nothing to do but sit still and wait until your shift ends.
There came a perfect chance to admire how charming the suited man was, if he wasn't surrounded by his siblings, you would have definitely surrendered to your desires and let him have his way with you.
You suddenly yelped when your half-awake eyes locked with the oldest Yotsurugi's behind the glass window and started acting like you were searching for a file to check.
To your horror, Shio reached for his office phone to dial you, oh... that is alarming, you answered the call reluctantly trying to overlook his piercing gaze, "...Yes, Sir?"
"Cappucino, please."
That was really close, "Of course."
His eyes followed you as you went to the coffee machine and out of his sight, he wasn't a patient man and the wait have always irritated him, so from your end you had to hurriedly enter the door and place his coffee right in front of him, "Here is your cappucino... sir."
He only glanced at you from the side not even thanking you, before taking the cup and spilling it all over your shirt, you screeched in pain at the burning sensation of the hot liquid, all his brothers' eyes turned to you and the humiliation you felt burned hotter.
"Do your job better."
"Sir-"
"You may leave now."
Feeling insulted, there was no point to even get yourself to look around and left the room tearing up, you made your way to the bathroom, thinking of what you might have possibly done while you try and clean your white shirt completely stained with coffee, doing nothing ? Bringing him his cappucino ? None if those reasons sounded valid, but you knew what you were getting yourself into ever since you started working for Shio, you knew he could be hot tempered despite his usual calmness, in fact you knew that better than anybody how quickly his personality changes.
You cried your eyes out in your moment of solitude, and even thought about not coming out nor face the man again, or at least avoid him until the sense of grievance wears off.
You followed your instincts to wait for some time before heading back to your office and took the chance to wipe your tears and wear a strong face again.
When the moment felt right you walked off down the hall and tried to ignore some of his brothers' stares leaving the meeting, when you opened the door you were faced with your boss sitting on your desk and hopping off it at the sight of you.
"Listen..."
"Don't even talk to me... do you have any idea how humiliating that even was, Shio ?"
"I know, my love, i'm sorry, but i had to."
"Had to what, embarrass me for no reason ?", You tried to pass him and take your bag but a rough grip on your wrist held you still.
"Just listen to me, my brothers were getting suspicious about us and i had to-"
"To prove you're serious about your position and capable of leading the Yotsurugi family, i know all about that...", you broke free from his hold, "But that doesn't concern me, you don't get to take your anger out on me!!! Because i heard all that everyone ever speak of lately, THAT SHIO YOTSURUGI WAS REPLACED BY HIS LITTLE BROTHER AS THE FIRST BO-"
A hand ruthlessly covered your mouth and throw you against the glass before you could finish speaking, "How dare you... do you even know who you're talking to... just because i fuck you doesn't mean you get to bring up something this personal!!!!"
His breathing got rigged and his glare turned dark at the nerve you just striked, you, in the other hand, were like a deer in the headlight, and couldn't even break the eye contact, slowly his hand fell down and changed orientation to your hips bringing you closer to him.
"Shio..."
"You know what i like to be called."
"Sir...", you heard a hum of approval at that as he began kissing your neck, "...i don't think we should do it here."
"We always do it here."
"But not this time, all your siblings are...a-ah... in the building, what if they... ah- come back...", the heat was getting to your head and was making you give up to his touch.
"Don't think of them, sweetheart, think of me.", when did he even open up your shirt, or lay you on top of your desk ? You only realised what was going on as he left hickies going down from your exposed chest to your lower waist, "Mmmh sir~"
"Keep moaning for me like that."
Every touch from him was pleasurable and left you wanting more, he reached underneath your pencil skirt taking off your underwear, his lips was still exploring your chest, meanwhile, you were clenching his hair tightly as he was getting dangerously low.
Your skirt arose and the sudden breeze sent a shiver down your spine, there wasn't enough time given for adjustment befire being hit with another sensation, one of Shio's cold lips against your vagina's.
"Hnngg~"
The first lick got you squirming in your place, the second had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and he just kept eating you out like a thirsty man, you couldn't suppress the sounds coming out simultaneously with his rhythmical mouth.
"S-S-Sirrr~ a-ah-ahh~", that sweet spot getting stimulated with his skilled tounge did what no sex toy ever could at the thought of him, your back arched, your legs quivering, and your tears forming, all loudly and clearly announced your orgasm.
Until Shio decided to pull his face away at the decisive moment, and remarked before you get to say a word, "You're not coming anywhere but on my cock."
His words followed with unbuckling noises of his belt, your eyes fell right to his boxers while he was about to free his massive member out.
A veiny 8-incher stood erect and throbbing before you, positioned in front of your hole without delay after its release, you swallowed your own saliva as if that thing haven't stretched you out on your lunch breaks and when he calls you for a top secret meeting, but you sensed this time was different since he usually arranges your "private sessions" during his horny hours, not as a stress relief from a personal matter like that day.
The forceful push oh his tip inside your hole proved you right, a thought came to your head that perhaps it was the lack of proper lubrication that's making the difference, but no more thoughts existed the more he squeezed himself in, your own arousal fluids helped soothe the path for him to get in all the way, he didn't care much for foreplay any further and began moving at a brutal pace.
The image of you two laying on your desk with everything knocked off of it for a quick and easy missionary, contradicted the one his siblings took of you two earlier that day from the coffee incident, and if one of them decided to come back due to the pornographic sounds you were making, there will be no way to explain it.
Shio's skin kept slamming into your heated one at an animalistical speed for god knows how long; your legs were getting sore and your face dried up from the tears running down from it, you held his collar tightly and brought him into your lips to tounge him into his edge.
You had no idea how, but he somehow managed to get faster, his scrunched up expression and sweaty palm were a visible threat for a close release; your confiscated one was reaching out too.
You felt the white painting your insides, with yours following not so long after, it was only then that you felt the suffocating weight on top of you, breathing heavily.
The brawn body backed away from you and he pulled his pants back up, "I will tell them the truth once i get my rightful place back, i promise."
You stared at him, completely worn out, then faced the light peeking in with a shadow hiding behind it, "No need, i left the door open..."
@sagephilosophie
#i write!#negai no astro smut#negai no astro x reader#negai no astro#astro royale smut#astro royale x reader#astro royale#shio yotsurugi x you#shio yotsurugi smut#shio yotsurugi x reader#shio yotsurugi#vee's
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i have a friend and i love him dearly but like half the time when they speak to me everything they say is condescending
#inner thoughts to keep me sane#like i made a comment about how i get impatient when cooking and cook everything on high heat#and he just replied and said “you have to cook things on the temperature the recipe says”#and like that sentence isn't that bad but it was the way they said it#and like i was talking about my job and complained about it#and they just started acting like he knows better than me about MY job#and like the worst part is he acts like this all the time#but one time i said “that was adorable” when they did something and he got so mad at me#bc apparently saying what they did was adorable was the same as calling him stupid??#like i love them and im so glad i have them as a friend but like#im sick of the condescending comments#and like yeah i know i have to tell him about this if i want it to change but im so scared ik gonna lose him
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Longing
Halsin x Fem!Reader
A/N: I have been burning with an intense CRAVING for Halsin and there is such little fic about him (although there are some good ones out there 👀) so I had to do my part and add to the pool 😏 hope y’all enjoy!
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is insecure about her virginity, talks of inexperience, love confessions, Halsin is a sweetheart, references to NSFW content. Very very minor spoilers for act 2.
Part 2
The fur of the rabbit is soft between your fingers as you prepare it. Yet, despite having a knife in your other hand and your task being a delicate one, you can’t seem to focus.
Your eyes keep drifting back to the druid across camp chopping wood for the fire. The axe is a large one, heavy - heavier than you’d be able to lift. Yet the large elf manages to bring it up above his head and swing it back down with a grace you never understood how he possessed.
The muscles in his shoulders ripple with each movement, accompanying the rythmic thump of the axe through wood. His soft grunts as he pulls it from the stump he’s using before placing the next log onto the surface and starting the process all over again.
“The rabbit is already dead, darling.”
The familiar voice rips you from your staring as your head whips around to see none other than your vampiric companion standing over you, a smirk tugging at his lips. You huff at him before looking down to the rabbit by your knees and heat rushes to your cheeks. What should have been a simple skinning job to get the meat ready for dinner has turned into a mess. Cuts in the wrong places, the hide nowhere near usable anymore.
You look back up just in time to see Astarions red eyes go from you, to Halsin, then back again. His smile grows. He shifts his feet, one arm resting across his chest as he gestures with his other to Halsin.
“You know, you could paint a portrait. It would last longer.”
Your cheeks somehow get even hotter, as you turn back to the rabbit in front of you, doing a much better job than earlier.
“Leave me alone, Astarion,” you mumble, cursing internally when the elf lowers himself to the ground beside you, arms resting on his knees.
“And why would I do that, when teasing you gives me so much joy?”
You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Okay, well you got me all flustered. So now that’s out of the way, did you need something or did you really interrupt your reading to bother me?”
The vampire sighs, leaning back on his hands as he looks over to you. “What I need is for you to finally jump that druids bones.”
You nearly choke as the words leave his lips, looking around to see if anyone heard and feeling heat creep up your neck once more as you see Shadowheart failing to hide a chuckle.
You turn to face your friend, eyes narrowed. “Could you be a little more quiet? I don’t need the whole camp hearing you.”
Astarion laughs this time, loudly, and it draws more glances than you’d like. You roughly shove the man next to you before he can speak.
“Your next words better be a whisper or I’m going to stab you ” you threaten, poking the knife in his direction.
Astarion places a hand over his heart, faux hurt in his eyes. “You wound me, darling. I’m just trying to help you. Plus,” he gestures to the camp, “it’s not like your attraction is a secret, nor Halsin’s.”
You shake your head turning back to grab another rabbit, embarrassment welling up in your chest. “He doesn’t…” you trail off, getting defensive. “Nothing’s there, Astarion. So can we please just drop it?”
Of course, he doesn’t.
“Look,” he starts, “all I’m trying to say is that neither of you are benefiting from holding back so…indulge, for once. Gods know we all deserve it.”
You ignore him. Curling in on yourself at the mention of…indulging. There nothing wrong with it of course. Everyone at camp has blown off steam along this adventure. Just…not you.
And the vampire must be able to tell too, because at your silence he straightens up, brows pinching in the rare way that shows he’s concerned.
“Wait, have you never…?” he gestures vaguely in the air.
His words, despite their genuine curiosity, strike a chord in you. You stand abruptly, tossing your work to the ground and stabbing your knife in the dirt.
“No I haven’t. Not that it’s any of your business.” Your words are louder than you intended and draw the eyes and ears of your other companions.
Astarion softens, obviously not expecting this reaction. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“
You clench your fists at your sides, interrupting him. “You never mean to Astarion but -“ You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”
You turn on your heel and storm from camp before anyone can stop you, ignoring the concerned gaze of a certain druid.
———
The water is cool against your skin as you squat by the stream’s edge, rubbing at your hands as you try to get the blood off of them.
You feel foolish now, storming off like that. But Astarion pointing out your inexperience just struck you. It’s not something that’s ever bothered you before. Especially not in recent months since dealing with the tadpole. You all have more important things to worry about.
But the moment you rescued Halsin…it’s like something changed. You were instantly drawn to him. His kind smile and thoughtful words. His care for everyone and everything in nature.
And he flirted with you.
The memory is still fresh in your mind. The night of the tiefling party after you had stopped the ritual at the druid camp and saved Halsin. You were worried you were talking his ear off, but he was attentive the whole conversation. Answering your questions and asking some about you.
Then he said those honeyed words. Suggested celebrating by spending the night with someone special. Implied he would spend it with you if his mind wasn’t elsewhere.
You withdraw your hands from the water to drag them down your face as more memories surface.
More flirtatious banter and kind words. Thoughtful conversations and fighting side by side. The night sat by your bedside nursing you back to health after a particularly nasty fight. After Ketheric Thorm almost took you out.
Your side still aches with the memory. But the thought of his hands with their soothing healing glow, makes the ache subside.
You sigh, sitting back into the grass as your eyes lock onto the slowly gurgling stream, Astarion words playing over and over in your head.
Indulge, for once.
You want to. Gods do you want that.
You’ve spent many sleepless nights thinking about it. About his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, the sweet words he’d no doubt whisper against your ear.
You shudder at the thought before shoving it away. Because any time he hinted at that - showed any interest in you - you would be so elated before insecurity took over.
Halsin’s views on love and intimacy are no secret. You’d asked him once about current lovers and while he did confide no one currently held his affections back home he also expressed that there were others in the past.
Others. Plural.
And you’ve never been with anyone. Not physically or emotionally, you’ve never trusted anyone enough.
Not until now.
You sigh, frustration creeping back in as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes before quickly standing up. You need to apologize to Astarion and finally, maybe, talk to Halsin.
You turn on your heel to do just that when you run straight into a solid mass. You gasp, stumbling backwards just as two strong hands reach out to steady you, gripping your wrists firmly.
Once steady, you look up to see none other than the man haunting your thoughts smiling down at you.
“You must have been very deep in thought for someone like me to sneak up on you, little one.”
You have to suppress a shiver at the nickname. A moniker he’d given you since you teased him about his size at the beginning of your friendship.
You shake your head, moving to step away and only stopping when his hands let go only to slip down and take your own gently.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I was just…thinking.”
Halsin stares at you for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face before he steps away, gesturing down the first path, one hand still in your own.
“Walk with me?” he asks. “I know being in nature helps me clear my head of even the darkest thoughts.”
You give a hesitant nod and follow him as he turns towards the path, not able to stop the smile when he doesn’t drop your hand.
———
The walk is mostly silent, a comfortable silence, but silent nonetheless. And you are grateful for it, not sure what you would say if Halsin were to ask what has you so upset.
But, silence can’t last forever it seems, because eventually the large Druid breaks through the sounds of nature surrounding you to speak.
“I overheard your conversation with Astarion,” he says, voice gentle. Probing, but not not forcing you to talk if you do not wish.
You stiffen, your pace slowing slightly, wanting to pull away from the man at your side. But his sure grip on your hand keeps you in place. The warmth of his skin on yours puts you slightly at ease.
“You…you heard that?” you ask, cringing internally. “You were across camp.”
The druid chuckles, gesturing to his ears with his free hand. “One of the curses of us elves. Impeccable hearing. Even when we don’t wish for it.”
You can feel your shoulders creeping up to your ears. Embarrassment settling in once more. “You were listening to us? To me?”
Halsin shrugs. “Not intentionally,” he admits, slowing his steps until you’re both stopped and he’s facing you. “But I find my attention turning towards you more often than not these days.”
His words tie your tongue and before you can gather enough sense to respond he continues.
“Nature works in mysterious ways, little one,” he tells you, eyes never leaving your face. “There is no one way to traverse it, and others journey do not define your own. Each one is unique, as it is intended.”
His words are beautifully woven, as always. And despite his cryptic deliverance, you know the meaning behind his words.
He’s comforting you. And once again, he speaks before you can detangle the jumble of thoughts in your head.
“And,” he reaches out, placing a curled finger beneath your chin to urge you to look up at him, “if it’s any encouragement, I seek you out as much as you do me. Possibly more so.”
Your eyes widen, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. He…does he feel the same way? Rationally you know he does. But that ever familiar self doubt, the tiny voice in your mind has always brushed away the flirting - the kind words and gentle touches as just part of his nature. None of it is reserved just for you.
Right?
Halsin smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners gently as he looks down at you. “Is that really such an outlandish thought? That I return your affections?” He pauses, “unless my heart has run ahead of itself and I have misread-“
You stop him then, reaching up to place a staying hand on his own beneath your chin.
“No! You haven’t…you haven’t misread,” you assure him, trying to still your racing heart.
His smile never falters, his other hand finally coming up to cradle the back of your head, teasing soft strands of hair between his fingers.
“That is good to hear,” he says, pulling you ever closer, his nose almost brushing yours, “it puts this old druid's mind at rest.”
Gods, you can’t breathe. The air in your lungs refusing to expel as he lean even closer, lips a hairbreadth away from your own. Your body sings with anticipation, your skin hot despite the cool air ushered in by the sun sinking below the horizon, the days last rays barely filtering through the trees.
“Can I kiss you, my heart?”
Halsins words are soft, barley a whisper and nearly drowned out by the sounds of nature around you and the roaring of blood in your ears.
You nod. “Please-“
The word barely passes your lips before he descends upon you, sealing his mouth with your own.
It’s both everything you expected and completely surprising at the same time. His hands are sure as he pulls you into him, one hand still cradling your head as the other slips down to your hip before wrapping around your waist. Yet his lips, the kiss itself is…soft. Gentle. Loving. The action speaks louder than any words either of you have said to one another. Louder than the words you never worked up the courage to speak.
Finally, your mind catches up with you, and your hands slide up his chest to clutch tentatively at his shoulders.
Halsins still hasn’t broken away from you, and when his tongue brushes against your lips you let him in. You tug him closer then, one of your hands sliding up to rest at the back of his neck eliminating any empty space between you as his tongue slides against your own.
He only pulls away when he must sense your need for air, but he doesn’t go far, lips pressing gently to the corner of your own, and then another to your jaw.
You’re breathless.
Chest heaving against him, as he pulls away just enough to look at you once more.
“As much as I’d love to continue…” his hand squeezes your hip gently, “we should make our way back to camp. I can imagine our absence as stirred gossip with our vampiric companion and..” he sighs, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
You can’t surprise the shiver that runs down your spine, or the smile that tugs at your lips.
“I’m…I’m okay being overwhelmed if it’s like that,” you tell him breathlessly.
Halsin laughs, a deep down genuine laugh that makes your heart sing even as he steps away from you.
“Then I will overwhelm you in all the ways I know how.” He promises, eyes trailing over you heatedly.
Your stomach does a flip at his words, and the effect they have on you must show on your face because Halsin chuckles again, leaning in to press one last kiss to your cheek before tugging you back in the direction towards camp.
“Another night, my heart,” he says, thumb brushing over your knuckles from where your hand remains in his own.
You let out a shaky breath, and nod, smiling as you walk closer to him. “I’m holding you to that.”
“I hope you would, though I doubt I will forget such a promise,” he assures before letting silence blanket you both one more.
You can’t stop the thrill that runs through you at his words.
Yes, I’ll hold you to that promise indeed.
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just crazy love | joel miller
pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader
summary: joel had hurt you badly, but can you forgive him?
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), mentions and drinking of alcohol, misogyny (bc of the times™), readers uncle is a character in this but his name is not mentioned and there's no description of looks, angst, swearing, use of pet names, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), praise kink, some size kink (pornstar!joel has a big dick), soft!dom joel, no use of y/n
a/n: this is part three and the last part to my little 70s!pornstar!joel mini-series. i'm overwhelmed by the love i got on the previous part. i honestly thought everyone had forgotten about the orginal one shot as it had been so long 💀 i really appreciate all of you who's left a comment, reply or sent me an ask! makes my heart all mushy 🥺 thank you to @dustydaddyyy for all the help and for reading through it! <3
main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3
On the way home from set, Joel started to think he’d fucked up.
You were so quiet, quieter than you usually were, and it made him worried. After wrapping his scene with Cheryl, he’d immediately looked for you, but your place in the corner where you’d stood watching was empty. He’d noticed you slip out during his scene but thought nothing of it as he knew being on set wasn’t your favorite, but then you came back, and Joel had found it hard to conceal his happiness behind his acting.
His head had been filled with memories and fantasies, memories and fantasies of you. The look you’d get in your eyes when he kissed you, blown out and wide. The feel of your soft hand wrapped around him this morning, the feel of your wet pussy tight around his cock. The sweet taste of you on his tongue. Shit. You were intoxicating. Joel couldn’t get you out of his head– and he didn’t want to try either. One look at you and those pretty eyes, and he came harder during a scene than he can remember ever doing – no need to fake any groans or moans.
It had been a long time since Joel had felt something so strongly for another woman. It must’ve been his high school sweetheart, he thought, that first teenage love, that all-consuming love that made that one special girl feel like the most important person in the world. And sure, after he moved to LA he’d dated, had a couple of girlfriends, but it never went anywhere, and his job, his job always made it complicated. Joel didn’t want complicated– so he stopped dating and got his fill of human touch through his work instead. It made his life easy, but then he’d seen you at the bar by yourself at Tommy’s club, and Joel didn’t want easy anymore.
Joel was a charming man; those southern manners had gotten him far in life, and especially with the ladies – it was no secret. And maybe he’d turned it up a few notches that night, he could admit that – hoping it would hook you in. He’d almost gone against his own rule. The rule he’d set for himself after one particularly nasty break-up a few years back: his rule of no sex outside work. He’d told himself he was protecting himself– protecting himself from getting involved into something complicated again, from getting hurt, or hurting someone he cared for. But then he’d met you, danced with you, talked to you, and Joel didn’t care about protecting himself anymore.
You weren’t someone to take home at the end of the night for a quick fuck. You were so sweet, and shy, he couldn’t help but want to get to know you better. Learn what made you smile, what books you liked, what music you listened to, but also what noises you made when you fell apart. In that dark dingy club, Joel had realized how special you were.
Maybe it was stupid what he did? He could’ve gotten your number a number of ways, but the alcohol was talking and suddenly he was offering you a job before really thinking it through – but at least he had a reason to see you again.
You were a good assistant, and he appreciated the work you did for him, his life had gotten much easier after hiring you. But you were so professional, and what Joel wanted to do to you was unprofessional. You kept on top of his schedule, took his phone calls, scheduled meetings, predicted what he needed before he even knew he wanted it. You were nothing short of a great assistant, but the more he worked with you it was clear that there were things about his job you weren’t as comfortable with – and Joel couldn’t blame you. From the outside his job was unusual, and fucking on camera wasn’t for everybody, but Joel had come to know – it especially wasn’t for you.
A couple of months in, Joel had started to think you were a virgin. At first, he thought it was just your steadfast professionalism, but your reactions to what he considered normal things in his line of work, made him wonder. Not that there was anything wrong with you being a virgin, he just couldn’t understand how anyone could look at you and not want you to be theirs. And maybe it was wrong, but it turned him on a little too, something possessive deep inside loving the thought of you being his, and only his.
He wanted you, wanted you to be his, and the more he got to know you, the more he had to fight to hold back his growing feelings. Joel could hide behind his personality, hide behind the way he loved to flirt, loving the way you squirmed from his compliments– from his teasing. It was cute, it was so goddamn cute, but it didn’t fix the ache he had inside only you could sooth.
After Pismo Beach, Joel knew he was fucked. In the car on the way back to LA he’d had trouble watching anything except your face; the beautiful glimmering sea you drove along might as well have been an oily puddle for all he cared. Nothing was sweeter than watching you hum along to the Joni Mitchell cassette you played on repeat. Joni’s mezzo-soprano clung in his ear like a warning. Yes, help me, he was falling in love too fast, but damn if it didn’t feel good.
Now a different song filled the space of his car, as he drove you home. Crosby, Stills & Nash’s melodic guitar picking hummed a low tune, their three-part harmonies flowing from his car speakers.
“Heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams, he worries.”
So yeah, Joel was worried. That rosy hue that had been tinting his world when he looked at you, had now faded to a drab dirty pink. You didn’t even look at him, and hadn’t muttered as much as a word to him since he found you in his trailer – where you’d been flicking through his papers from the meeting – after the scene ended.
“’s everythin’ alright?” Joel spoke across the silence that had grown between you.
You didn’t move your head from where it rested against the window; your face bathed in red from the sea of brake lights on the freeway. You weren’t moving much, so Joel allowed himself a good look at you. He watched the way your body curled in on itself in the seat, your fingers picking at your nailbeds – it made him pull his brows in a tight frown.
“Did he hear a goodbye, or even hello?”
With a brave hand he reached out to touch you, stroking the back of his hand against your cheek. “Hey,” he said, “did ya hear me, my sweet girl?”
“They are one person. They are two alone. They are three together. They are for each other.”
You pulled away from his touch immediately, shifting in your seat, and Joel felt his heart sink in his chest. “I’m fine,” you muttered, an unfamiliar sting in your voice.
A loud honk behind him released Joel from the shock from your tone, and his hand that had been previously dancing along your delicate skin, fell to the gear stick. Releasing the clutch slowly, Joel’s car rolled forward, following the slug traffic. You clearly weren’t fine.
“Stand by the stairway, you’ll see something certain to tell you, confusion has its cost.”
Joel let the music fill the space while you stayed quiet, a bubbling panic settling in his chest as the day played on repeat in his head. Everything had been so great earlier, until it wasn’t. He’d seen it in you after the meeting. Joel knew he should’ve said something, and he’d simmered with it all throughout the meeting, but Joel also knew better than to speak against Ronald in a setting like that.
Ronald was the best thing that had happened to Joel’s career. He was a big name in the porn industry, only managing the very best in the game. Eight years had passed since Ronald had discovered Joel.
It had been the summer of ‘67, his first year in LA already in the rear view. He’d come with a guitar case and a dream of making something of himself. Joel had chased that dream around in circles, and a year into it, he’d been free falling towards rock bottom. The gigs he’d dreamt would line up as soon as his feet touched the hot Californian sand, never came, and had it not been for Tommy, who’d made the move with him, he’d be homeless.
The whole exchange had been bizarre. Tommy was working as a busboy at a club on The Strip at the time, and as an employee, Tommy got a discount at the bar. Joel knew how to take advantage of his little brother’s benefits, and occupied a seat at the bar every weekend where he drank almost free booze, and flirted himself to a one night stand, or two, or three.
He’d sat by the bar one Saturday like usual when a man sat down in the seat next to him. Joel paid him no mind at first, continuing to smoke his cigarette and enjoy his whiskey. Then the man had started talking to him, asking if he knew this girl he’d slept with last week. He was about to deny ever having talked to someone matching this girl’s description, concerned that this man was a husband or a crazy ex-boyfriend of some sort, when the man started telling him that she dabbled in porn. Nothing crazy, just some nude photoshoots here and there, but she’d told him all about Joel and his impressive package.
Joel was about to tell the man to go fuck himself – the conversation twisting into something way too weird for Joel to navigate – when the man, Ronald, had offered to manage him.
Sure, Joel was gifted, blessed, some might even say, but it had sounded too good to be true: getting paid the big bucks for just having sex? At the time, it had sounded like every man’s pipe dream but now, Joel owed Ronald everything.
If the movie deal with VCA went through, Joel’d owe him even more. It was a miracle he was this sought after in the first place. The top consumers of porn, Joel knew, and he supposed the entire porn industry knew, were predominantly men looking for big boobs and a willing woman, neither of which he was. But the tide was turning with the rise of the women’s movement, and Ronald had thrown his net into the pool of opportunity at the exact right moment.
The cynical part of Joel told him it paid his bills – he’d been so desperate in that club – but now, now he was living large as his popularity had continued to grow, and grow, and grow. He’d paved his path towards success, towards the success he’d dreamed about those eighth years ago. And sure, it felt good to be sought after and desired by women everywhere, but if he was being honest, the only woman he wanted to be desired by in this moment, was you.
He loved your gentle nature, that shy, almost timid, way you looked at him. No one had looked at him like that before. It felt so much more real, but it was like something was always holding you back, like you could never allow yourself to just be, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Joel recognized that feeling, he did. He was from the south after all, and as far as his family was concerned, Joel was a sinner. That guilt they instilled in him– he’d sat with that a long time, years spent learning not to hate himself for the choices he’d made, unlearning years of shame. To not feel guilty about his desires, to embrace all that life had to offer with open arms, to dream, to eat until he was full and still have room for dessert.
“Love isn’t lying, it’s loose in a lady who lingers.”
Clearing his throat, Joel spoke again, “Somethin’ ‘s clearly wrong, sweet girl.”
“Please don’t call me that,” you sighed, voice strained like you were close to crying. The broken sound of you shattered something inside him.
“Saying she is lost, and choking on hello.”
Finally, the traffic picked up its pace, and Joel changed gear, gaining speed for the first time since you got on the freeway.
“My sweet girl?” he asked, “I thought you liked that?”
Crosby, Stills & Nash sang their last lines, before the song faded into some disco song Joel had never heard before. It was loud and obnoxious, and your answer drowned in the beat. Joel’s hand was on the volume button in less than a second, turning it down.
“I didn’t,” you repeated in a whisper, “I don’t.”
You shifted your body closer to the door, and Joel knew he had to do something to make you feel better.
“How about…” he started, his hand shifting from the gear stick to land on the thick of your thigh, “I’ll drive us back to my place, and we’ll pick up where we left of this mornin’, huh? Would that make ya feel better?”
You crossed your leg over the other, making his hand slip from your thigh. “I’m too tired, Joel– it’s been a long day… and I didn’t get enough sleep,” you sighed, eyes closed and defeated.
“You sure? Swe–” Joel cut himself off before he could say it, the sweetness turning bitter on his tongue.
You didn’t answer, didn’t look at him, didn’t let him touch you. Something tightened in his chest. You were slipping away like sand through his fingers.
Maybe this wasn’t about the meeting after all?
“’s this about Cheryl?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, to conceal the panic bubbling in his throat. “’s just for work– was just actin’.”
You took a deep breath, and held it before you spoke, like you were practicing what to say before you said it. “It’s fine, Joel– I’m not your girlfriend.”
Not his girlfriend. Not his. Never his.
This time he couldn’t look at you, his hand gripping tightly around the steering wheel as he glimpsed your apartment complex down at the next turn.
“I thought–” Shit. A breathless chuckle devoid of any joy left him. He was speechless.
Pulling into the parking lot next to your car, Joel didn’t know what to do. He watched you gather your things, while the heaviness in his chest grew.
Was it over before it had even begun?
“I’m…” you drew a shaky breath, “I’ll see you at work.”
And then you were gone, slipping out the door and leaving Joel alone in the swollen silence of your absence. His heart hammered in his chest, his breathing growing shallower as he watched you hurry across the parking lot in the rear-view mirror.
Move you fucking idiot– run after her, his brain told him, but he couldn’t move an inch. Shit. Shit. Shit. His chest tightened, and tightened, his fingers clawing at the rough fabric of his jeans as he started gasping for air. He’d wanted you for so long, and now you were gone. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? With shaky hands he managed to roll down the window, the fresh evening air filled his lungs as he tried his best to calm down.
Joel had fucked up.
When Thursday rolled around, and Joel still hadn’t heard from you, he started to wonder if it was excessive to file a missing persons report. He’d tried to call you multiple times since Monday, but your phone was always off the hook. The hollow beeping of the busy signal doing nothing to calm the panic building in him since Monday.
He’d been so stupid, and he’d cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Embarrassment suffocating him at the fact that it hadn’t settled in until Ronald had shown him the first rough cut of his chemistry test with Cheryl yesterday.
It had been Cheryl’s idea, the whole innocence thing. She’d pitched it to him after the meeting ended, telling him how excited she was for this opportunity, and how much she was looking forward to finally filming later. Joel had played along; he was at work after all – it was his job. So, he turned on the charm, tested the chemistry waters, and agreed. She was new to the industry and young, it made sense.
What didn’t make sense was what he’d called her. Sweet girl. He’d called Cheryl that multiple times without even realizing it – too lost in his thoughts of you, and how he wished it was you with your lips wrapped around him.
Joel was fucking stupid.
He’d convinced you to watch him get a blowjob from another woman right after you’d confessed to never having given head before. He knew you were inexperienced, but that had never mattered to him. Joel thought it was kinda nice to explore sex with you – to find out what you liked, and what you didn’t. It made it exciting again – it wasn’t just work. But hearing himself praise Cheryl for making him feel good was the last straw for him – he needed to apologize to you.
How he wished he’d been able to convince you to stay in bed that morning– to forget about the stupid fucking meeting. Finally, he’d had you. Finally, he could kiss you, and hold you, and make you feel good. The sweetness of you, of having had you, now bitter as he realized he’d probably never get that back.
Wiping a sweaty palm on his jeans, he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for someone to buzz him into your apartment complex. He knew he shouldn’t be here, he could get you in trouble, but he needed to see you, to talk to you face to face.
“Hello?” a static voice croaked through the busted speakers of the rusting door buzzer.
“Pizza delivery,” Joel answered, and not a second later the door buzzed.
Trudging up the stairs the words he’d rehearsed played on a loop in his head: He know you probably don’t want to see him ever again, but he needed to apologize for what happened on Monday. He never meant to hurt you the way he did. He understands he was never your boyfriend, but that was what he wanted to be, and he’s sorry for the way he acted.
Stopping outside your apartment door he drew in a deep breath before he knocked. It felt like he stood there for hours waiting while nothing happened. That worry he’d felt for days now tugging harder at his neck. Joel knocked again, a little harder with the shout of your name, and added ‘It’s Joel’ for good measure. Again, nothing. When he repeated the action a third time, the door to the neighboring apartment flew open.
“She’s not home,” your neighbor told him, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She was dressed in a formless paisley patterned dress, hair thrown back in a low ponytail as she bounced a crying baby in her arms. When Joel’s eyes landed on the little girl in her arms, she told him, “You woke her up with all that banging.”
“I’m sorry ma’am,” he said earnestly, “I never meant to–” The baby screamed louder, face red from exertion.
“Sure, you didn’t,” she scoffed, with a roll of her eyes. She bounced her daughter, shifting her hold to hike her up over her shoulder, hand tap tapping at her back as she started to bounce her.
Sliding his hands into his jean pockets, Joel didn’t know what to do. Awkwardly he cleared his throat, tilting his head towards your door. “D’you–” Joel started, before your neighbor cut him off.
“No, but I saw her getting picked up by an older man about an hour ago.” Something about the judgement in her tone didn’t sit right with Joel.
He nodded at the information. Your uncle. Joel remembered now. Your uncle was coming to visit – taking you to dinner. What had you said on the phone again? An Italian place in Santa Monica?
Pulling his car keys from his pocket, he thanked your neighbor – making sure to apologize once again for the ruckus, before he hurried back down the stairs. He walked with long steps towards his car. The sun was setting on LA, turning the clouds and the city pink, but he paid the beautiful sight no mind, his eyes set on the Italian restaurant in Santa Monica where he knew Deborah worked.
“Well would you look at what the cat dragged in.”
Joel turned his head towards the source of the familiar voice, only to find himself eye to eye with Deborah, and her raised eyebrow.
The air smelled like garlic and basil, and the restaurant hummed with conversation over the sound of Dean Martin. She was adorning the restaurant’s waiter uniform, a short red dress over a white collared shirt, while balancing a tower of dirty plates in her hands. He almost didn’t recognize her, she looked so different from how he was used to seeing her – all dolled up at Tommy’s club.
“Deborah,” he acknowledged with a nod, plastering a polite smile on his face.
“Don’t you ‘Deborah’ me, Miller,” she told him with a scoff, placing the tower of dishes down on an empty table before crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at him, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m lookin’ for–”
“I bet you are,” Deborah replied, raising an unimpressed brow, “She ain’t here.”
Joel sighed, his face pulling into a defeated smile. “I know she’s with her uncle, Deborah. She told me she was takin’ him to an Italian restaurant in Santa Monica– As far as I’m concerned, that’s this place.”
Deborah shrugged nonchalantly, and Joel felt himself start to get annoyed. “Sorry, haven’t seen her in months.”
“Deb,” Joel let out through an exasperated sigh, a hand coming up to rub his eye, “Listen, I–... I just came to apologize, okay? I did somethin’ stupid that I shouldn’t have, and I need to apologize to her f’it.”
Deborah scoffed at Joel’s words, shaking her head with a bitter smile. “I bet you did something stupid... always the same thing with you Millers, hm? You always do first and think later.”
Confused, Deborah’s tone made Joel raise a single eyebrow, “Sure we still talkin’ about me?”
He hadn’t heard much from Tommy about what had gone on between him and Deborah, but he knew it hadn’t been very pretty. Tommy had just broken up Maria for the umpteenth time when they’d started going around. It was never going to last, Joel knew it the second he’d met Deb. Tommy always came back to Maria somehow, it didn’t matter how badly it had ended – like an endless figure eight they’d always meet again in the middle.
“Potato, potahto,” she said with a falsely sweet smile.
“Look, I ain’t my brother, okay? Never have been, never will be. Now I ain’t got a clue what went down between the two of you, and I’m damn near sure he deserves all the rage you’ve got to throw at ‘him, but it ain’t my business to sort out, so don’t go makin’ it my business...”
Deb tightened her arms over her chest, green eyes glaring at him, still, Joel could see a twinkle of curiosity in her eyes, too. “Apologize for what? You dock her pay or something?”
“No,” Joel let out with an annoyed breath.
“So what, you fired her?”
“No, Deb,” Joel said again, his voice heavy with exasperation.
Deborah quieted down for a second as she scrutinized him, her eyes boring into him. Then, her eyes cleared, and she shook her head.
“You got handsy, didn’t you?” she asked eventually, raising a questioning eyebrow. Joel couldn’t hide the guilt on his face, it told her all she needed to know. Her hands fell to her sides, “Jesus Christ, Miller... don’t you get laid enough at work?”
“Look, it ain’t like that,” he said, shaking his head as he felt his cheeks heat up, which only embarrassed him more.
Joel Miller doesn’t blush.
When Deb crossed her arms again, expression expectant as she looked silently at him, Joel sighed. “Deb… I really like her– and I know ya’ll are friends, and you want to protect her, but you gotta give me a fair shot, too... I never meant to hurt her, but I did, and if I have to spend the rest of my life apologizin’ to her every single day then that’s what I’mma do, but I promise you, you’re going to get sick of me real quick.”
There was a moment of silence in which the two of them looked at each other, before Deb raised a finger to point at Joel, taking a step forward.
“You listen here, Miller,” she said, wagging it under his nose, “Just this once, I’m going to be nice to you, for old times’ sake... but if I so much as hear a squeak from her you’re acting like a bastard, then you bet your ass I’m coming the hell after you.”
Joel nodded slowly, pulling in a deep breath through his nose as he pursed his lips.
“Anythin’ else?” he asked, raising a semi-impressed eyebrow, but Deborah only scoffed at his tone, poking him in the chest a final time.
“Yeah, tell your brother to stop calling,” she said, looking up at him, before nodding towards the back of the restaurant, “Unlike her, I don’t give second chances.”
“I’ll pass it on,” Joel said with a nod, but his voice was already absent as he finally spotted your familiar shape sitting in a booth at the very back of the restaurant.
Twirling your fork absentmindedly through your spaghetti, you listened to your uncle yap on and on about the boys at the garage, and the car he’d just driven down here.
“It’s a beaut,” your uncle said through a mouthful of his own pasta, “1971 C3 model, nice dark green color Ralphie repainted. You know I’m not a convertible guy myself, can’t give up my truck, but I could see myself in one of them cars out here– apparently, it’s being sold to some high-profile actor or something.”
“Really?” you asked, trying to steer this never-ending one-sided conversation towards something somewhat interesting.
“Yeah, you know I don’t keep up with them celebrities, but I’m pretty sure I was talking to the client’s manager on the phone.”
You nodded, letting your fork fall to take a sip of your water. Your uncle hadn’t let you order yourself a glass of wine, the impression that you were still that innocent little girl you were back when you worked in his garage shop hard to shake. Your uncle, on the other hand, nursed his beer.
“That’s exciting,” you said with a small smile.
“Oh yeah, we’ve got this bet going at the shop about who it is–” Your uncle cut himself off as a broad figure approached your table. Looking up from your plate your breath hitched when you saw the man before you.
“Joel?” His name fell from your lips before you had time to think, your brows pulling together in confusion, before something tugged at the hurt in your heart. What was he doing here?
“Hi, sweetheart.” His face wore a quiet smile, eyes scanning over your form.
“W-what are you doing here?” you stuttered out, a panic racing in your chest while a lump formed in your throat. You couldn’t do this here, especially not in front of your uncle.
“I was in the neighborhood– saw y’all through the window and wanted to…” he trailed off, finally noticing your uncle. “Sorry, sir,” he reached out his hand to your uncle in a greeting, “Joel Miller, I’m–”
“Joel’s an actor,” you cut him off, “he starred in one of Mr. Cooper’s commercials a few months ago,” you lied.
You could see the kink in Joel brow at your lie, that quiet surprise he then played off with a charming smile. “Yeah, that’s right– a beer commercial, wasn’t it?” He looked at you with one eyebrow raised. Biting down on your lip you confirmed the lie with a nod.
“You do look a little familiar,” you uncle said, dragging the words out like he’s pulling them from his memory, “they show your commercial on the TV?”
“Oh, I haven’t been payin’ attention, but somethin’ like that,” Joel shrugged, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his tight Levis, his signature western belt buckle glinting in the low light. “Y’all mind if I join y’all for a drink?”
“Not at all,” your uncle smiled before you could say anything. Joel lifted his hand to get Deborah’s attention to order himself a beer, before he squeezed himself into the booth next to you, his knee bumping into yours as he got comfortable.
Having lost your appetite, you shifted your plate to the side to make room for Joel. It was a tight squeeze in the booth, the warmth of his body flooding your senses, the familiar scent of cigarettes and of his cologne making your heart ache.
How could you miss him, and hate him all at the same time?
Deborah served Joel his drink quickly, checking in at your table at the same time. Her eyes were focused on you as she cleared the table, asking you a silent ‘You okay?’ which you quickly nodded at. You knew she’d make up some crazy excuse to get you out of any situation, but you didn’t know if you could handle it if she did. It was easier to just suffer through. You’d suffered enough this past week; you could handle another hour.
The days since you’d seen Joel last had been spent between your bed and your couch. Unfocused eyes rolling over reruns as you let a blanket of numbness fall over you as the hours passed you by. You felt so tired, that kind of tired that sits in your stomach, heavy and pulling you down, every step a drag and every breath a strain. You’d isolated yourself for days, hadn’t showered for days, you were too tired to do it, and what did it matter anyway?
You’d tried to cry, but you couldn’t make the tears fall. You wanted the release, and to feel sorry for yourself, but nothing came. And what good would it do? Nothing. You were nothing. Nothing to yourself, nothing to Joel, and nothing to this lonely city. Just some small-town girl who thought she could change who she was, who she was always destined to be.
After two whole days on your couch, you had to get up, you had no choice. You wanted to cancel, to tell your uncle that you’d come down with the flu, but you knew he was driving all day, and you wouldn’t have a clue where to call to reach him. So, you’d sat up, ate a piece of bread, and had a shower. Every minute you tried to not think of Joel, tried to not think about the way he’d kissed you hello in your hallway, the way he'd held you through the night as you slept soundly in his arms, how his gaze had felt over your features on your way back from Pismo Beach – it was all too much. Every nice memory ruined by the way his voice had echoed ‘Sweet girl’ to Cheryl.
Sweet girl. Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that. My sweet girl.
How stupid you’d felt hearing those words. You’d fooled yourself into thinking there was something more between you and Joel. You weren’t special, and that was the worst part, because he’d made you feel special. He’d made you feel desired– like he actually liked you. Or maybe that’s what hurt the most – to realize that to him you were just one girl among many.
You’d placed your phone back on the hook in the afternoon, anticipating your uncle’s call, and when it rang, you were relieved to hear his familiar voice down the line. It was all so complicated. The relief a strange mix with the suffocating memories of home. You were different now than when you worked at his shop. Still shy, but still different, more grown up and more independent. He didn’t know you anymore. No one knew you anymore– well except for one person.
You’d felt free with Joel– even before, when he was just your boss. He’d challenged you, made you come out of your shell, challenged your shame, and challenged your guilt. And watching Joel small talk with your uncle, you started to wonder if that was the reason why it had hit you so hard? Joel had let you be yourself, while still challenging you. He’d let you be shy, while still feeling sexy. He’d made you feel seen, until you’d been forgotten.
“You guys will have to excuse me, I need to take a leak,” your uncle said, pulling you from your thoughts, and getting up from his seat.
With his glass raised to his lips, Joel only gave him a short nod as he watched him walk away from your table. When your uncle was out of earshot, Joel dropped the act, shoulders relaxing as he gently placed his beer on the red and white gingham.
His face looked tired, eyes sparkling with melancholy. “I’m sorry for showin’ up here all unannounced,” he started, fingertips tapping lightly over the cloth, “you weren’t pickin’ up your phone and I need to talk to you.”
The lump on your throat grew larger as you tried to swallow around it, lost for words. “F-for what?” you said, voice hoarse and not louder than a whisper.
“I think we both know for what,” he sighed, “I fucked it up with you– never should’ve said those things to Cheryl– even if it was just actin’. I got so caught up in you, I didn’t realize what I’d said until it was too late, and I’m sorry.”
“I-I, J-Joel,” you stuttered, brows pulling together tightly as you searched for your words.
“You don’t need to say nothin’ right now, but I wanna drive you home ‘f that’s okay? Wanna have a proper talk with you.”
His hand was shaking as he placed it gently on your shoulder, the touch making your eyes fall shut as a hitching breath escaped you.
“Joel,” you whispered.
“Please,” his hand moved gently up your neck to cup your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending goosebumps down your spine. “Please, I need to explain myself.” His voice sounded pained and full of sorrow. “I’m beggin’ you, sweetheart.”
You opened your eyes slowly, breath shaky as you tried to hold back the tears pressing behind your eyes. His whole face shifted when you met his eyes, melancholy turning to worry, his other hand coming up to cup your other cheek as he shifted closer.
“Hey,” he said it so softly, “Sweet girl, sweet sweet girl, please don’t cry.” His forehead fell against yours, his mustache tickling your skin as he pressed ‘I’m sorry’ into it.
“O-okay,” you managed to stutter out against your better judgment.
Joel lifted his head, brown warm eyes finding yours as his thumbs rubbed gently into your skin, “Yeah?”
Behind Joel, you noticed your uncle exit the men’s room, and you jerked out of Joel’s hold. His brows tightened together in a confused frown before you gave him a short nod in the direction of your uncle. Joel gathered his hands in his lap, his eyes tracing your uncle as he squeezed back into his seat. He gave Joel a look you couldn’t decipher, jaw locked tight and eyes piercing, before he turned to you with a plastered smile.
“Alright, what do you say, sweetie? You want some dessert?”
Your eyes flicked quickly from your uncle to Joel, and then back again, “No, I think I’m too full, and um… it’s getting late.”
Your uncle hummed, “Yeah, been a long day for sure.” Shifting in his seat your uncle fished his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Let’s see if we can get a hold of that pretty friend of yours,” he said, turning his head to search for Deborah.
As he got her attention, Joel fished his pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his shirt. He lit himself a cigarette as you watched your uncle hold up his wallet and point. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Joel, watching the way his lips pursed around the cigarette as he inhaled.
“I think I’m also gonna use the restroom before we leave,” you peeped, getting to your feet before anyone could say anything. You felt Joel’s hands graze the back of your legs as you squeezed past him. The touch quick but gentle, but still leaving a burn of longing either way.
Pushing open the door to the restroom you took a deep breath. Joel was here. Joel was here and he wanted to apologize. Pacing to the end of the room, you discreetly dropped your head to check the stalls. No one. Good. Leaning your weight over the stone sink, you looked at yourself in the mirror.
What were you doing? One touch from Joel and you fall apart?
You released a breathless laugh and shook your head at yourself; you were in over your head, but at the same time a bubble of relief sat in your throat. He was here after all, he wanted to explain himself, and you knew that deep down you wanted to hear it.
When you made your way back to the table, something in the air had changed. “There she is,” your uncle said, gathering his jacket, “Ready to go?”
“Um…” You looked to Joel, but something about him looked different. His shoulders looked tense, the cigarette pinched between his fingers were close to burning out, but it was his face when he looked at you that made you worried. The previous tenderness gone, replaced by a clenched jaw and eyes that wouldn’t meet yours.
“Actually, Joel said–”
He cut you off, “I’m gonna stay for another drink…”
His words dropped to the pit your stomach where they weighed you down, your feet frozen to the tiled floor. When Joel still didn’t look at you as he handed you your jacket and purse, you knew something was clearly wrong. Beside you your uncle crowded your space. His hand landed on your shoulder where it rubbed harshly into your skin, almost possessive as his eyes locked on Joel in a way that said, ‘good man’.
“I’ll drive you home, sweetie.”
With a hand resting at your back, your uncle guided you out the restaurant without as much as a mutter of goodbye to Joel. You looked back at him, not once but twice, but he still didn’t look at you – his eyes were glued to the foam of his beer as you vanished out the door.
Back inside your uncle’s rental car you were quiet, sitting with your thoughts as they swirled around your head. You’d been so close to believing Joel; that he was actually sorry, that he wanted to apologize. But once again you’d been a fool. Leaning your head against the window you felt so silly– silly for getting your hopes up.
“I– uh,” your uncle cleared his throat, “That Joel back there, sweetie, he’s not who he says he is.”
Lifting your head you turned to your uncle with a frown, “I don’t–”
Your uncle cut you off, “I don’t want to be telling you this– lord knows I don’t want your aunt knowing about this but…”
You watched how your uncle’s grip tightened around the steering wheel, his nervousness infecting you. What was he talking about?
“But what?” Your voice rose an octave, as you let out a nervous breath.
“Joel does porn,” your uncle revealed. He said it all dramatic, like he was in a movie and this scene was the turning point for your character. You had to restrain yourself to hide the laugh tickling your throat as he continued, “I thought he looked familiar, and– jesus, don’t you ever tell anybody about this but… he’s in a couple of movies I keep in the basement.”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your eyes staring straight ahead down the road. You cringed at the new atmosphere settling in the car, stuffy with embarrassment and a picture of your uncle getting off to Joel stuck to your retinas. You wanted to hurl, this new picture not something you’d ever want to visualize. You were quiet as the revelation settled, your brain searching for words, but it was like they’d all fallen out your ears.
“Listen,” he cleared his throat of the discomfort, “I don’t know what he is to you, if he’s your boyfriend or what–”
“He’s not,” you squeaked, ready for this conversation to be over.
“I saw him kissing you when I stepped out of the toilets,” your uncle accused sternly, a biting lilt to his voice.
“Kiss me? I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, confused about how he’d gotten it in his head that Joel had kissed you.
“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” he started to yell, “I saw it with my own two eyes, don’t you go lying to me.”
Your heart picked up its pace, all the blood in your body turning to ice in your veins. Pressing your lips together in a thin line, you fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill.
“I don’t want you seeing him anymore– that kinda filth he’s involved in…” he shook his head, “it’s sinful and I don’t want him getting you involved in that.” Your uncle’s voice was stern, words spat through gritted teeth.
You were frozen in your seat. Your heart beating so fast you thought it might burst through your ribcage. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. All too quickly you were transported back home, back to who you used to be. You drew a shaky breath as a single tear spilled down your cheek.
“What would your parents say if they knew what you were doing down here? Who your friends were? That Deborah? Did you see how short her dress was? The city of sin this is,” your uncle continued as he pulled into the parking lot outside your apartment complex.
With eyes glued to your hands, you couldn’t get a single word to come out of your mouth – like they were stuck to the back of your throat where they formed a painful lump. After parking the car, your uncle turned to you, a finger brushing over your cheek in a suffocating touch.
“Sweetie,” he started, voice gone softer, “I’m worried about you. You’re out here all alone– all alone with all this temptation. Wouldn’t it be nice if you came back home with me, hm? Get you back where you belong?”
"I–..."
The words stayed stuck in your throat, unable to rise over the anxiety that gripped you at the thought of returning home to your parents. How different your life would be, back to the way it used to be, an old prison you'd hoped you'd left far behind you. Yet you felt numb, finding yourself incapable of uttering a single word of protest as your uncle nodded self-righteously.
"I think that's the best, sweetie," he told you, his tone sounding entirely too convinced, "Tell you what Hon. . . I'm gonna be driving back down tomorrow, and I'll be damned if you aren't sitting in this seat all safe right next to me, alright? So why don't you go and pack your stuff and a bag, and I'll be by in the afternoon to pick you up?"
You said nothing, the rising panic in your throat rendering you almost paralyzed. Your fingers desperately reached for the car door handle; you needed to get out of this car.
Unaware of your distress, your uncle bid you a contented 'See you later' as you stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut.
Finally, he drove off. You watched him disappear with a knot in your stomach until he was just a tiny dot on the horizon, wishing he would stay that way as you tried desperately not to throw up your dinner in the parking lot.
“Hello?”
The electric static of your voice filled Joel with a deep sense of relief. His grip around the phone handset tightened as he forced out a clumsy, “It’s Joel.”
The sigh you sent down the phone tickled up his spine, but before you could say anything Joel continued, “I just wanted to apologize to you… for last night.”
He’d felt awful all through the night and into the morning. He’d fucked it up again. Letting you leave like that last night was the hardest thing he’d done in a long while. Had you not gone to the bathroom and left him with your uncle, none of this would’ve happened.
You sighed again, “All you do is apologize Joel, but do you ever mean it?”
Joel face contracted into a grimace, “I do, sweet girl, you don’t know how much I mean it,”
“Joel…” your voice sounded pained, and it shattered something inside him. He just wanted you to be happy, and loved, and taken care of, but all he’d done was hurt you, again and again.
“It doesn’t matter how much you mean it Joel… none of it matters anymore.” The tone of your voice scared him.
“What d’you mean, sweetheart?” he hurried.
“It’s just… you don’t need to worry about me anymore, Joel– I’m leaving LA tonight.”
Joel felt his heart drop to his stomach, a rising panic bubbling under his skin as he stumbled out, “What are you talkin’ about, sweet girl?”
“I’m going back home tonight. I-I don’t know when I’ll be back– if I’m coming back. Joel, I can’t be your assistant anymore.”
“Fuck being my assistant!” he spoke through gritted teeth, holding back from yelling out in panic, “What d’you mean you’re leavin’?” Joel’s voice faltered as his heart caught up with what was about to happen.
He was gonna lose you. You would never be his. He was losing the first girl he thought he could really love. The girl he wanted a future with. Hell, the girl he could see himself grow old with. Joel knew it was fast, way too fast to be feeling like this about you, but right now, all those shitty romance novels about finding ‘the one’, all those weeping love songs about love at first sight – after you, they didn’t seem so stupid anymore.
“Joel, it’s– it’s okay.” Your voice had gone soft, but he could still hear the strain of hurt in it.
“It’s not, sweet girl, nothin’ about this is okay.” Joel’s eyes fell shut, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t lose you. “I’m comin’ over– We can’t be doin’ this over the phone.”
“Joel,” you sighed.
“I’m comin’ over,” he reiterated, and hung up.
You were carrying a bag to your car when you saw Joel’s car pull into the parking lot. He must’ve noticed you right away as he’d hastily parked next to your own car – his wheels screeched against the asphalt. As you made your way across the parking lot, you watched how he almost jumped out the car like he was in a hurry, coming around the back to fill the space between your cars.
“Joel– you really didn’t have to come all the way out here,” you told him when you got close enough, stepping past him to place your last bag in your back seat. He leaned his hand on your door, holding it open for you, his broad form shielding you from the blazing afternoon sun.
Inside, your apartment was left half-empty. You’d left most of your things, only bringing your clothes, your pictures, your records and your record player, and your books.
You didn’t need much more where you were going.
The thought still made your stomach turn in on itself, the dread of going back home had trickled down your back ever since last night. But what choice did you have? It was either your parents finding out about your job and Joel, or going back home. You knew your uncle; he’d never keep this a secret if you didn’t do as he said. If your parents found out it would be over for you. You didn’t even want to think about it; they’d disown you if they were feeling nice, or send you to an asylum if they were feeling extra nice. If you didn’t go now, they’d never let you come home again, and it scared you, you were already on thin ice for moving to LA in the first place.
“Are you just gonna pretend this isn’t your uncle’s idea?” Joel’s voice had a bite to it, and it caught you off guard. Standing to your full height you raised a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. His face wore none of the anger you’d heard in his voice, instead there was a veil of sadness coating his features.
“I– Why do you think that?” You tried to keep your voice steady, normal, you didn’t want him to hear how scared you were.
“’Cause of what he told me back at the restaurant,” he closed your car door, “told me he knew who I really was and to stay away from you– he didn’t want me taintin’ you with my filth.”
Your eyes fell shut as your hand came up to rub at your forehead. So that’s what happened yesterday? Letting your hand fall, your eyes fell over Joel’ face; over his neat mustache that tickled you in just the right way whenever he kissed you, over his soft curls he’d let grow out the last couple of months, and over his eyes. His brown eyes now swirling with something you hadn’t seen in them before. Shame?
“I done fucked it up haven’t I– you associatin’ with me? He’s takin’ you back to your daddy, ‘s that it?” When he met your eyes they softened, a veil of his regular self now concealing that blink of insecurity.
You shook your head as a lump grew at the back of your throat, “You just– you don’t understand Joel.” The words came out strained as you felt tears push behind your eyelids.
“Hey,” Joel softened immediately, his hand wrapping gently around your upper arm and sending a warmth through your body. “You’re okay, sweet girl, tell me what I don’t understand.”
He stepped a little closer, but not too close, his hand traveled up your arm in a soothing gesture. Your eyes fell shut again, squeezing them tight to stave off your tears. You’ve never talked about it before with anybody. Never talked about your family and how trapped you’d felt by their rules and their expectations; the guilt they’d instilled in you for never being able to live up to the person they wanted you to be.
You shook your head, “I don’t think I can,” you half-whispered.
“Sweetheart, I– I know I fucked it up with you, and I know I ain’t your boyfriend or nothin’, but I do care for you– I care for you more than you think. I wanna be there for you when somethin’s wrong. So please, tell me what’s wrong.”
Slowly opening your eyes, you looked at him. Those warm like whiskey eyes staring at you with concern and with a hint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Adoration? Fondness? Love?
“My uncle will be back soon,” you said, voice low, “he wants to get on the road before dark.”
“’s that really what you want?” he asked then, his hand slipping from your arm.
“It’s– it’s complicated, Joel.”
A sigh escaped him, as he ran a hand over his face, “Yeah… I just wish you weren’t leavin’– wish it didn’t have to end like this.”
He didn’t look like himself. Eyes shining with sadness, and that usual cocky lilt to his voice gone, exchanged by something low and strangled. His face contorted into a crooked smile, his shoulders shaking with an unhumorous breathy laugh as he shook his head.
“Shit–”, he snickered, “life’s cruel sometimes… you finally fall in love with a girl and then…” he shook his head.
You felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Fall in love? In love with you? Joel didn’t look at you, his hand rubbed at the back of his neck as he started to walk away, rounding the tail of his car.
“Fall in love?” you asked, hands falling to your side in shock, “with me?”
Joel stopped at your voice, “Couldn’t help it,” he shrugged with a sad smile.
Those tears you’d fought so hard to stave off finally broke loose, a single tear running down your cheek – the tear in the dam of your sadness. Joel’s arms were around you in an instance, strong and steady. He held you so close to his broad chest, that familiar scent of cologne mixed with cigarettes making a sob escape you as you realized you’d never be able to be this close to him ever again.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his shirt.
Joel’s grip around you tightened as he dipped his head against your cheek, “Why are you apologizin’, sweet girl? I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“I don’t want to leave,” you whispered; your tears staining his shirt.
“Then don’t– stay,” Joel said, soothing a hand across your back.
“I-I can’t– they’ll… they’ll hate me if they find out.”
“Find out about what, sweet girl?”
“You… the porn… everything. He’ll tell them and I’ll never be able to come home again,” you cried into his shirt.
“Okay,” Joel sighed, loosening his grip around you, “let’s go back to my place– we should talk.”
“But my uncle–” you started to protest, but Joel cut you off.
“He doesn’t decide over you, sweet girl, you make your own decisions– you hear me?”
His hands found your face, his massive palms holding you gently as he rubbed his thumbs down your cheek, drying your tears. You could only nod.
You’d never been inside Joel’s house before, you realized, as you trailed after him up the steps to his front door. He lived in one of those houses at the top of a long hill where he had the most incredible view over LA. You knew porn paid him the big bucks, but he’d been sensible when it came to his home – well, sensible for LA.
It was a one-story house in the shape of an U; inside, the hallway opened up to a living room where big glass doors framed his back yard and a kidney shaped pool. Warm, dark toned wood paneling clad his walls and made the space feel masculine, but inviting.
With a hand hovering over your back he guided you towards his couch. “D’you want a cup of tea?” Joel asked you as you sat down on his leather couch. He looked nervous where he stood, palms running down the side of his leg like he didn’t know what to do with them. It was contagious.
“Um, okay,” you nodded, shifting a little in your seat and folding your hands in your lap.
Waiting for Joel to come back from the kitchen you tried to steady your stuttering heart. You’d been mostly silent on the drive over, trying to wrap your head around the fact that Joel was in love with you – the fact never seeming to stick to your brain in the right way.
It felt ridiculous – Joel, a successful pornstar, being in love with you. But stacked on top of his confession was the fact that Joel was a pornstar – making a living out of having sex with other women. You didn’t understand how exactly it bothered you, but you knew that it did somewhere deep down – but then again did you have any right to be bothered by it if it paid your bills.
“Didn’t know if you took sugar or not so I brought the bowl.” Joel pulled you from your thoughts, placing a steaming cup of tea and a small crystal bowl filled with sugar on the coffee table in front of you.
“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, your hand finding the string to bop the teabag as you watched the steaming water turn darker.
You felt the cushion dip as Joel sat down, a seat of absence between you.
The air felt loaded. Loaded with the week left behind you. Loaded with Joel’s lingering confession. Loaded with the uncertain future. Joel watched your hands, eyes fixed but far away.
“I… uh,” Joel cleared his throat as he searched for his words. “I wanna apologize to you for– for everythin’ that happened at work on Monday.”
You felt yourself not, drawing back your hands to rest them in your lap, a finger clumsily picking at your nailbed.
“There ain’t no excuse for how I was actin’– for the things I said… truth is, the way I feel about you, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You make–” Joel tipped his head, a smile coating his lips, “you make everythin’ just brighter– like everythin’ will be alright as long as I have you… And I know this all feels fast, but I’ve been crazy ‘bout you since I first laid my eyes on you. I ain’t ever believed in that ‘love at first sight’ crap but,” Joel hesitated, like the words hung at the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t let go.
“But?” you encouraged.
“I think I do now.”
His words tasted so bitter and so sweet. Tipping your head downwards your eyes found your hands.
“Joel…” you shook your head, trying to will the words to form. “This… I don’t understand.”
“What ain’t you understandin’, sweet girl?” He shifted his weight, leaning closer but still maintaining a respectful distance.
“Why me?” You looked up from your lap, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” He breathed out in shock.
“I mean, you’re Joel Packer– you can have any girl you want… and I guess you already do– at work.” You swallowed around the growing lump in your throat, tears pushing behind your eyelids.
“Well, I ain’t in love with all those other girls, am I?” His voice was gentle; the words escaping like they were the easiest words in the world.
Your tears pushed their way forward, trailing down your cheeks like curving rivers. Joel instantly moved closer, the familiar warmth of his body against your side made the tears run faster.
“Hey, my sweet girl, it’s okay, baby, it’s alright,” he cooed, pulling you into his embrace.
“It’s not, Joel… I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into his shoulder.
“Tell me and we’ll figure it out together,” he pulled away to cup your head in his hands, thumbs wiping away your tears, “just tell me, baby.”
You watched his face, your eyes dancing over his features, drinking him in. Drawing a deep breath, you told Joel everything. You told him about your parents and your upbringing, their rules and their expectations. How they’d wanted you to be the perfect student, the perfect daughter, and someday the perfect wife. You told him why you’d moved to LA in the first place – to run from it all, from the guilt and shame they instilled in you for never being what they wanted. Joel held you in his arms as you emptied your feelings. He let you speak, humming at the right moments and squeezing you tighter when it was extra emotional for you.
“And now my uncle’s gonna tell them about you and the porn and–” you spoke fast, stumbling over your words, “they’ll disown me– I know it or worse they’ll come and get me… send me somewhere,” you sobbed.
“Heyheyhey,” Joel shifted his hold on you. You’d sunk into the couch as he’d let you talk, your feet slung over his lap as he held you close. Now he sat up, turning your body to face him, eyes locked with yours. “Listen, baby– they ain’t takin’ you anywhere, you hear me? You’re an adult– you’re your own person now!”
“I know I’m askin’ a lot of you– you’re afraid of losin’ your family– I understand! Believe me I do.” His head tipped against your forehead, nose brushing gently against yours. “My folks, they—... well they ain’t talkin’ to me anymore. Don’t matter how famous I am, I’m a sinner to them.”
“Joel, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart aching for him.
“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about– it’s in the past and I got Tommy…” he trailed off, lifting his head, one large hand cupping your cheek. “Listen, my sweet girl, you’re the only girl I want. I want you to stay, but I want you to stay for your own sake. There ain’t nothin’ you owe your folks, okay? And I promise you I’ll always be there for you!”
For once you didn’t think.
Leaning closer you brushed your lips against Joel’s, and it made all the walls inside you break down. Humming in surprise he stalled before he relaxed against you, pulling you closer, his hand pressed into your cheek. There was no air, only Joel. His mustache tickled your upper lip and cupid’s bow in just the right way, and you realized just how much you’d missed him.
The kiss was languid like molasses, pulling you apart and putting you together again. Your hand found his neck, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck – tethering yourself to him. He broke away from your kiss, pressing soft tender kisses along your jaw, his hand brushing down the column of your neck.
“Come sit in my lap, sweet girl,” he whispered into your skin and a rush of electricity sped through your body. His hand fell to your waist while the other grabbed at the thick of your thigh – maneuvering you to straddle him.
“There you go, my good girl,” he praised, his hands rubbing it into your skin. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Joel leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to the spot where your jaw met your neck.
“Joel, I– ah!” you gasped as he brushed his tongue over that sensitive spot behind your ear. You felt his smile against your skin, teeth nipping at your sensitive skin before his lips brushed over your drumming pulse. He kissed his way along your jaw, nose bumping into yours as he hovered before your lips – daring you to kiss him again.
You took the bait, eyes flicking down to his lips before you pressed your own against him. You didn’t have much experience with love but being this close to Joel felt so right. Maybe this was what love was, you thought.
“I think I’m in love with you,” you mumbled against his lips, your words swallowed by his kiss. A wide smile blossomed across Joel’s face at your words, and soon you were kissing teeth.
“Whatchu sayin’, sweet girl?” he grinned, raising one eyebrow at you as he leaned back.
You had to fight not to roll your eyes at him, at how he always found a way to playfully tease you. You weren’t joking though – you meant it, you really did.
“I’m in love with you too,” you told him sincerely, “I don’t know how to be in love, so you’ll have to be patient with me, but I’m yours if you’ll have me.”
“I’ll always want you, sweet girl, always,” he promised, sealing it with a chaste kiss.
“I uh, I think I need to quit being your assistant too,” you said, biting your lip. “I can’t– I don’t really want to see you with other women… you can tell me about work, but I don’t want to see it.”
Joel squeezed your waist gently before rubbing soft circles over the spot. “That’s okay– thank you for tellin’ me,” he nodded, “I’ll talk to Ronald ‘n see if he knows if there’s any assistant jobs for you over in Hollywood.”
You slowly shook your head, “Ronald is a piece of shit.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Joel chuckled, leaning his head against the back of the couch, “But he’s connected, and very convincin’.”
“He’d never do that for me,” you said.
��But he’ll do it for me– I’m his favorite client,” he grinned, leaning forward to cup your chin, before pulling his hand away.
“You just make him a lot of money,” you countered with a shrug, still sitting pretty in his lap.
“Do I now?” Joel asked, leaning closer with a cocky grin, “’n how do I do that, sweet girl?”
“Joel,” you sighed as his lips brushed over yours in another quick peck.
“Listen,” he started, “It’s been a long time since I’ve dated anyone ‘n I won’t lie, last time it got complicated ‘cause of my job. You know what the job entails, but I need you to talk to me– we need to be communicatin’, you need to tell me ‘f somethin’s wrong– just like you’re doing so well for me right now.”
“Ok, Joel,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss to your temple.
You stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, you didn’t know. But it felt nice to be so close, to just be in each other’s company, to enjoy being so in tune with another person without any ulterior motive. You didn’t know when, or who started it, but his lips were back over yours, moving in a perfect rhythm. Slow and drawn out, enjoying every second of being this close. When his tongue darted over your bottom lip, the kiss got messier, more passionate, like either of you couldn’t get enough of the other.
Under you, you felt Joel’s cock harden, the feel of what you did to him making your cunt ache for him. His capable hands had explored your clothed body, rubbing softly over the dips and curves before they’d landed on your ass. With a gentle rock, he’d moved you back and forth over him, catching your every moan with his mouth as your clit caught on his growing bulge.
It felt so good. Joel felt so good.
He moved you expertly over him, edging you closer to an edge you didn’t think you could reach this fast, your arousal soiling your panties with every grind. The kiss got sloppy, and you broke away, content little sighs escaping your mouth as you buried your face in Joel’s neck. He was everywhere. The scent of him, his warmth, his hard cock underneath you– it was all too much, and Joel knew it. Tightening his grip on your ass, he bucked his hips to meet your grinding, and you snapped. Mewling into his neck, you withered in his lap, legs shaking with your orgasm.
“Joel,” you managed to moan between the white hot ecstasy.
“There you go, baby– good girl, come for me, just like that,” he encouraged, rubbing his hand down your back in gentle strokes. His heavy hand rested over your back, pressing soft kisses to your temple as you came down, cooing at the aftershock.
With your mind somewhat back on earth you lifted your head from the home you’d made in his neck to place a soft kiss to his lips. Meanwhile your hands slipped between your bodies, clumsy fingers fiddling with the buttons on his jeans.
Joel broke your kiss, “Not here.” Confused, you pulled away, your eyebrows meeting in a furrow. “Let me fuck you properly… in my bed.”
Stumbling back into his hallway, your hands linked, he led you to his bedroom. His decorating was simple: a king-sized bed placed up against the back wall, paired with more of those large floor-to-ceiling windows gave him a view out into his backyard. An art piece hung above his bed, which looked suspiciously like a Warhol, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it with Joel’s hands on you.
He took his time undressing you– one painstaking item at a time, dotting kisses to each new piece of skin revealed. You were practically swimming in your arousal by the time he got to your panties. He had that look in his eyes, something dark and filled with lust as he sank to his knees before you. Never breaking eye contact, Joel leaned in, his lips brushing over the soft spot below your belly button – it made goosebumps prickle across your skin, and a hitch of breath to get stuck in your throat. His lips skated downwards, running along the elastic of your panties, teeth nipping at the bow in the center.
It was like time stood still. Outside the setting sun filled Joel’s bedroom with a golden hue, and bathed him a soft warmth. The way he looked at you sent bolts of electricity through your body, into every nerve ending. He was everywhere, and you wanted him everywhere, wanted him inside.
His fingertips grazed the side of your thighs, finding the thin sides of your panties. His eyes locked with yours and you nodded along with a breathless, “Yes,” before he pulled them down. A smile filled with cocky happiness spread across his features when he hit a bit of a snag, your arousal and previous orgasm making the fabric stick to your cunt.
After helping you step out of your panties, Joel sat back on his heels as he admired you. His tight jeans clung to his thighs and your eyes couldn’t help but trail over him; over his strong muscles, his impressive bulge, his signature belt buckle and his scarlet red shirt with the deep V, straining against his shoulders. Naked and bare for him, he took in your body, those warm whiskey eyes memorizing every inch of it. The rough skin of his hand made you keen under his touch where it skated up your leg, following your form and parting your legs for him. Hooking his hand under your thigh, Joel placed it over his shoulder giving him a perfect view of your wet cunt, while your fingers found his curls to keep yourself steady.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he whispered almost to himself, “it’s all messy f’me ain’t it?” He dragged his lips along your inner thigh, dark eyes locked with yours.
“Y-yes,” you managed to stutter out – your whole body alight under his touch.
“Yes, it is, baby,” he underlined his words with a finger swiping through your soaked folds, the sound filling the space between you. “You hear? Hear how messy?”
A heat traveled up your neck to your cheeks, making them burn under his playful teasing. “Joel,” you whined, your fingers tightening your grip on his curls. He continued his teasing, placing wet kisses to the inside of your other thigh. The coarse hair of his mustache brushing against the sensitive skin in just the right way.
“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, “you gonna let me take care of ya, sweet girl? Gonna let me show you I’m only yours?”
You were nodding even before he’d finished his sentence, “Yes,” you sighed. The ache between your legs burned so bright it almost hurt.
With your permission, Joel closed the teasing distance, and buried his face between your legs. He started with a kiss directly to your clit, before he dipped lower to taste you properly. Small and breathy sighs escaped your lips, your other hand not in his hair falling to his shoulder to keep you from keeling over.
The flat of his tongue lapped at the seam of your cunt, collecting your arousal on your tongue, as he hummed in contentment. It felt too good. He always made you feel so good. When the tip of his tongue teased your hole, you had to bite down on your bottom lip to fight back the moan about to escape you. Pressing your heel into his back, your body bucked by its own will, meeting the swipes and zigzags of his tongue.
“Joel,” you gasped when he found your clit again, a tense arousal building in your core. Spurred on by your noises, Joel sucked at your sensitive bud, laving his tongue over it in lazy strokes.
“Fuck,” you whispered, breath hitching in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut from the ecstasy. You were close now, your second orgasm approaching fast in Joel’s capable hands– or tongue.
“C’mon, baby,” he spoke between laps over your clit, urging you on, “come all over my tongue.”
A hand slid up to your ass, holding you flush to his face as you started to wither above him. His cheeks were warm from your soft thighs, his mustache slick with your arousal as he brought you closer and closer.
“There she goes, good girl,” he said with a ragged puff, encouraging you when the dam finally broke. His grip on your ass tightened, keeping you upright, as your whole body started to shake with your orgasm. Your grip on his hair was tight, tethering yourself to Joel, as you whimpered out breathy moans. Your hips bucked into his mouth, and the heel you dug into his back must’ve hurt, but your mind was entirely elsewhere, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.
He pressed soft kisses to the fold where your thigh started as the aftershocks coursed through you, holding you steady while your chest heaved for breath as you tried to calm down.
“Joel,” you sighed contently, your hand brushing over his hair. He didn’t pull away like you thought he’d do, instead he placed another kiss to your sensitive clit. You jumped at the touch, a giggle catching in your throat.
“I’m not done witchu, sweet girl.” You could feel the smile against your skin, the way his lips smoothed the exposed surface, the sweetness of his smile practically dripping down your legs.
He helped you slide your leg off his shoulder, his big hands framing your waist as he rose from the floor with a restrained grunt. He looked a mess. Hair pulled in all directions, mustache glistening with your wetness and cheeks smeared with your arousal. Seeing what you’d done to him, you felt your cheeks heat up.
With his hands around your waist, he walked you backwards, until the back of your legs hit the end of the bed. He was crowding your space now, the familiar scent of him now mixed with you sent your brain into a mushy state. He pushed you forward gently, and you fell down on his bed, bouncing slightly.
Joel towered over you, still completely dressed. The thought of how bare you were for him, while he was still fully clothed, sent a tingle down your tummy to your core. He had the upper hand, and it felt good. It felt good to let him take control, to be able to shut your brain off for a while, to know he would take care of you.
Across his face, Joel wore his signature cocky grin as he stepped closer to the edge of the bed, the hardwood floor creaking slightly with ever step. You dipped your head to your shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes, and it made his smile wider. He stalked over you, his hand curling around your ankle before he playful yanked you towards him. A yelp fell from your lips, before a giggle broke lose.
“Oh, you ain’t gonna be gigglin’ like that when I’m done witchu,” he teased, lowering himself over your body.
“W-what are you gonna do to me?” you asked breathlessly as Joel dipped down to nip at the skin below your collarbone.
A deep chuckle rumbled across your skin between his kisses, “Gonna make you come, and come and come, sweet girl– wanna feel you squeezin’ around cock– make you forget your own name.”
“Shit, Joel,” you stuttered out as his lips closed around your nipple, “I-I haven’t–”
He cut you off, “That ain’t matter to me, sweet girl, I know you’ll be good f’me.”
And he was right; you wanted nothing more than to be good for him.
He kissed a trail down the valley of your breasts, across your tummy and the dip of your belly button until he reached your mound. Joel got comfortable on his knees, hooking his arms under your legs to manhandle you the way he wanted, spreading your thighs, and putting your wet cunt on display for him.
“Sweet fuckin’ pussy,” he pulled back and spat, and you felt the way his spit dripped down your clit, “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
With his thumb he smeared his spit through your folds, not that you needed it, you were plenty wet from your two previous orgasms. You jumped under him when he brushed your clit, puffed and sensitive as it was, and it made him chuckle.
“You’re so sensitive, aren’t you, sweet girl?” he coaxed, putting more pressure on your clit with his thumb.
Your moan got caught in your throat as you hurried to answer him, “Y-yes, Joel, so sensitive.” Heat and arousal flushed through your body, traveling through your bloodstream, and shading the world in a rose-tinted hue.
Another chuckle escaped Joel before he ducked down and brought his lips to your clit, while two of his fingers teased down your folds to edge at your opening. You felt your hole clench in anticipation, as a whimpering moan fell from your lips.
“This hole is just drippin’ for me ain’t it?” he teased, voice muffled by his lips around your clit.
You couldn’t think, so consumed by his touch and the way he made you feel. You managed to nod and breathe out a “Yes.” Joel hummed around your clit, the vibrations edging you on as his fingers prodded at your entrance.
Pushing forward he thrusted his fingers inside. It was a snug fit, but your arousal dripping over his knuckles made it easy. He immediately curled his fingers, expertly prodding at that sensitive spot inside that made you squirm underneath him and buck your hips involuntarily.
“Shh,” Joel soothed you, fingers still pushing up, hitting something that made your leg shake involuntarily as he circled them against the delicate flesh.
Shit. Fuck.
You mewled, whiny breaths falling from your lips as you hurled quickly towards the edge, again. Joel didn’t let up, thrusting his fingers expertly into that perfectly sensitive spot. When your right leg couldn’t stop shaking, he slung his other arm over your stomach, keeping you in place for him.
“That’s it, sweet girl, that’s your g-spot, honey,” he cooed between lapping and sucking at your clit, “Are you gonna come again, baby? You can let go– ‘s okay.”
The added pressure of his arm sent your hurling towards your release. Your back arched off his bed at a particular perfect thrust; your breath coming out panting and breathless.
“Joel–” you heaved, “J-Joel, I-I’m—,” you couldn’t finish your thought. You clenched around his fingers, a pressure building like you’d never felt before – you felt like you were about to explode.
Joel sucked hard on your clit before he moved his lips off with a soft pop, “C’mon, honey,” he coaxed, stopping his thrusting fingers to massage at your g-spot, “Be a good girl f’me and come all over my fingers.”
With his permission you came with a silent cry, eyes squeezed tight as your whole body arched off the bed, your head pressed tightly into the mattress as you let it wash over you. It was like your body clenched and released all at the same time. Small tears trickled down your temples, your body shaking from the force of your orgasm. You gushed over his fingers, and Joel pulled his fingers from your wasted hole at the exact right moment, right as a stream of liquid released.
You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a cloud of ecstasy you’d never felt before – the feeling so intense, it made your eyes roll back. Beside you, you felt the bed dip. Still shaking from your orgasm, you heaved for your breath, trying to come down. Joel’s arms snaked their way around you, pushing you against his body as he cooed and hushed you.
“You’re alright, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your temple, “squirting all over my hand like a good girl.”
“Joel, I–” You were still catching your breath, still reeling from the intensity.
“You’re ok, baby.”
He held you close until you’d fully calmed down, and your heartbeat had steadied. You let yourself be held, to just be. Joel pressed absentminded kisses to your skin. One on your cheek, another to the pulse of your neck, a third to your collarbone. He was amazing. He was yours.
“Thank you, Joel,” you finally spoke, “I’ve– I’ve never done that before, it… it felt really good.”
Joel pressed another kiss to your cheek, “You’re welcome, baby– you looked so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that.”
He pressed another kiss to your cheek before he pulled away. Standing to his feet he stretched his back with a groan. You watched how his muscles moved underneath his shirt. He must’ve felt you watching him as he sent you a cocky smile over his shoulder before he padded towards the door of his en suite.
You turned onto your stomach, your eyebrows pulling together in a furrow as you asked him, “Where are you going?”
“Just gonna getchu ya somethin’ to clean up with,” he explained, nodding his head towards his en suite.
“But…” you trailed off, eyes flicking sheepishly towards his bulge, his cock rock hard and straining against his jeans.
He caught your eye, his trademark cocky smirk spreading. Joel turned his body towards you, and let you ogle him as he crept towards you. “But, what?” he questioned, one teasing eyebrow raised.
“What about…” you bit your lip, heat flushing your cheeks. He’d made you squirt for fucks sake, and you still couldn’t ask him for his cock.
“What about what?” he teased, standing at the end of the bed, his hard cock now eye level with how you were sitting. He watched you from above, how you flicked your eyes from his face to his cock, trying to tell him what you wanted without saying the words.
“You want more, greedy girl?” he questioned, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him, “You want my cock, don’t you?”
You nodded in his hand, big moony eyes looking up at him. Joel shifted his weight, his hand traveling from your cheek to your chin, letting his thumb run over it in a smooth motion.
“Take my clothes off,” he ordered.
Sitting up on your knees, your hands started fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Above you, Joel watched you – warm eyes studying you. Unbuttoning the last button, you placed a nervous hand to his chest, right above his heart. Under your palm you felt it beat, fast paced, but steady. With a scrunch of your face, you looked to him.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, fitting his own hand over yours, “I’m crazy ‘bout you, sweet girl.” He dipped his head to fit a soft kiss to your lips.
He helped you with the rest of his clothes. His shirt hitting the floor first, then followed by his belt and his jeans, and lastly his socks. Clad only in his white briefs, you took him in. His handsome face, his neat mustache, his tanned skin and broad shoulders, but most importantly (at least in this moment), his aching cock.
“Take it out f’me,” he ordered.
Obeying his command, your fingers dug into the elastic. His rock hard cock strained desperately against the cotton, a wet spot had formed where the head was, turning the fabric translucent from precum. You pulled his briefs down his legs, his impressive cock springing free to bob in front of your face. Joel stepped out of his underwear, kicking them across the floor to the pile with his other clothes.
You moved up the bed as he crawled over you, parting your legs for him to fit between as you laid back against his fluffy pillows, the scent of him overwhelming. His cock rubbed against your cunt, the head catching on your clit as he adjusted himself over you.
“This whatchu wanted, sweet girl?” he asked, guiding the tip through your folds, and coating himself in your arousal.
“Y-yes, Joel, please,” you begged, “want you.”
Between your legs he jerked himself off, spreading your wetness all over his cock, a slick wet sound squelching from his fist. Joel’s eyes trailed over your body before he shook his head.
“Sit up,” he said.
Confused, you did as he said, sitting up on your knees before him. Joel shifted on the bed, leaning his back against the headrest, his impressive cock standing to attention in his lap.
“C’mon baby, come take what’s yours,” he said, reaching his hand out to you and helping you straddle his thighs.
Looking between your bodies, you couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. Each time you’d had sex, Joel was always the one in control, but now… Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, insecurity an uninvited guest in the home you’d made in Joel’s bed.
Warm hands cupped your cheeks then, lifting your head to meet his. “You’re alright, my sweet girl,” he told you, fitting his lips against yours, “wanna feel you squeezin’ my cock.”
With Joel’s guiding hands, you lifted yourself over him as he guided the head towards your entrance, the head of his cock pushing through your folds. “Take it slow ‘f ya need it,” he told you, reassuring you. With a timid nod, you shifted your weight slightly, steading yourself on your knees before you slowly sunk down on him.
Your mouth dropped open at the stretch, never really getting used to the size of him – even with the thorough prep he’d done to you. You took your time, easing yourself down on him one inch at a time till he was buried to the hilt in your cunt. He was so deep inside you in this position, you felt him in your tummy, too deep for a cock to reach.
“Shit,” you cursed with a whimper, feeling Joel’s thighs press against your bare ass.
“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, knew you could do it– takin’ all that cock f’me,” he praised as you tried to adjust to the feeling of him reaching so deep inside you. His hand landed on the small of your back, pushing you closer to his chest and making you rock forward in his lap.
“Y-you’re so deep like this,” you stuttered, draping your arms around his shoulder to steady yourself as his cock hit a new angle inside you, and making you see stars.
“I know, sweet girl, I know– feels good, don’t it?” he cooed, and rocked you in his lap again. Your clit caught in the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and it made a gush of arousal drip down his cock.
You nodded your head desperately. It felt good, it felt really good.
“Why don’t ya bounce on it f’me, honey– make yourself come.”
Again, you obeyed.
You started slow, inching upwards just a tad before grinding down on him again, working yourself up and down his length at your own pace. Below you, Joel watched you closely, a lazy smile spread across his face. His hand on your waist helped guide you, and soon you were bouncing on his cock like an eager little bunny.
“Fuck,” you cursed between moans.
The drag of his cock inside you felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. Love and ecstasy and pleasure – all mixed up into one infatuated feeling. Under you, Joel groaned unabashedly. The noises he made, deep and rugged as he started to meet your bouncing with his own thrusts, building a rising rhythm of pleasure.
“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he groaned, “squeezin’ my cock so good.”
“Uh-uh,” you nodded, mind gone completely blank.
The feeling of him filling you just right with every thrust and hitting that special spot inside you, were almost too much to handle. Your thighs burned with the effort, and you didn’t know how much more you could take before he was hurling you over the edge for the fourth time.
“You gonna come again, sweet girl? Gonna be my good girl and give me ’nother? Give that big cock a nice squeeze?” he encouraged.
You were far too gone to say anything coherent and when his thumb found your clit, you knew you were in trouble. Your legs shook from pleasure and the strain of your bouncing, and you fell forward, your head finding a home in his neck as you gasped. Joel worked quickly and expertly, shifting your weight on his lap so he could thrust into you from below. Breathy whiny moans escaped you in quick succession, and then you were falling apart for him with a cry.
“That’s my good girl,” he praised you through gritted teeth as you withered in his lap, squirming and gasping in his lap. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around his cock as you rode through your orgasm. Under you, Joel’s breath became shallower and his grunts more restrained, and even in your cloud of ecstasy you knew he was close.
“Fuck, ‘m comin’” he let out, quickly lifting you off his cock before he spilled hot cum onto your tummy and mound, his panting moan deep and guttural. It was hot and sticky and suffocating in a good way.
As the sun set over LA, you and Joel found refuge in each other under the pink and orange sky. Your panting breaths slowed to a still comforting silence as you held each other close, and you knew that there was nowhere else you’d rather be.
You had been unable to see it before, or simply just unwilling to let yourself see it, but the answer had been on the tip of your tongue all along. Joel had been the missing piece of your puzzle, the part you'd never even known you'd needed until he'd slotted himself securely into that space, completing your life in a way your family had never been able to. Being with Joel felt right, and if there was one thing you did know, was that no matter what your uncle said or did, or what your parents would think, you were done making sacrifices.
And so you laid in Joel's arms, your chest unraveling with the relief of the knowledge that for maybe the first time in your life, you were making a choice entirely for yourself, and that, given the chance, you would choose Joel, every day, for the rest of your life.
and that's the end <3 if this was a movie we'd slowly fade to a drone shot of LA while cher's cover of "lay baby lay" starts playing as the credits roll over the cityscape.
i hope this was okay, and that the ending was satisfying and that you liked it? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller series#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#dom!joel miller#the last of us smut#tlou smut#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#inexperienced!reader#70s au#pedro pascal
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what if alastor’s darling went to heaven 😧
cw: heavy manipulation, heavy gaslight, alastor being alastor (whom is a shit stirrer,) poor charlie is getting caught up in alastor's schemes again
he’s yandere (platonic or romantic, up to you idc, but I hc him as ace) ofc he’s gonna want you by his side for all of eternity!
maybe that’s why he wants to involve himself with the hotel. so he can get close enough to heaven, just so he can tear your wings off and drag you down to hell with him.
of course he tells charlie about you once she gets the go ahead for the meeting. he asks her to give you this letter if she has the chance.
vaggie strongly opposes this once she see’s husk’s reactions to the mentioning of you. husk, the brute stand-offish bar tender stilled. the bar counter he was busy wiping down left forgotten as his head snapped to alastor’s.
yet his eyes met vaggie’s
“don’t let her get that letter. don’t let alastor near her”
she got the message loud and clear.
about to take the letter from alastor, he flicked his fingers away as his head snapped to hers. her eyes widened.
charlie was too busy gushing about ‘alastor long lost ‘lover’’ that she didn’t notice the hotel’s atmosphere change. the sudden dip in temperature, and the distant sounds of horses.
his eyes stopped boring into hers and snapped to husk, who started cleaning with stupor.
“miss vaggie..” charlie had stopped her bit and joined back to the conversation. off handedly noting how cold it was as alastor handed her the letter.
“i do appreciate your eagerness” his eyes squinted “in delivering this letter, but charlie here” he pats charlie’s head “is the only one i trust to do the job.” he smirked. fully aware of the silent conversation the two employees had.
vaggie gulped, backing away with her hands in faux surrender as charlie once again told him that she wouldn’t let him down!
vaggie didn’t have a good feeling about this. you two were separated for a reason.
he was in hell for a reason
plus it was illegal for believers and sinners to have any kind of contact, as that would violate heaven..
vaggie knew she shouldn’t talk. let alone question alastor. but he was planning on committing a carinal sin.
clipping an angels wings and watching them fall was the worst sin of all.
vaggie couldn’t wrap her head around it. did he really love you? or was he bored and wanted to take being an ‘overlord’ to the next level. to do one thing a sinner, let alone a citizen of hell could ever do.
cause a fallen angel.
“shouldn’t you let her be? you could get her- us into serious trouble by giving her that letter. who knows what might happen. we could get punished and she could”
“fall?“ he finished for her, eyebrow quirked with that same cocky grin on his face.
“what better way to help our group of sinners than to have an angel to lead us to salvation!” his grin widened, yet she never once met his piercing eyes. he squeezed his fist to show emphasis; determination, if you would.
“my y/n is nothing but a saint who devoted themselves to helping people in their life. she was even kind to give dear ol’ me special attention-“
“gross” vaggie cut in, alastor eyes snapped to her for the briefest moment, his facade cracking the tiniest bit before he continued; “this establishment is certainly in need of their expertise if we want the hotel to successfully reform sinners!”
charlie’s smile faltered, “but… she’d be kicked out of heaven…”
forever
that word rang through everyone’s minds. like how lucifer gave the apple to eve, alastor snaked around charlie.
“it’s a necessary evil, is it not?” he questioned, one by one his claws fanned onto her shoulders, his head next to hers as he whispered: “think about all the people we could help, they could help. they should know better than anyone how people in heaven are, what they act like, how they get there-“ he leered at vaggie
“from their own personal experience of course! and it’s so cold and lonely at night without my precious” he sniffles, grabbing a handkerchief from one of sir penticols egg boi’s.
“but we want people to get into heaven… not kicked out” she trails off, suddenly thinking about her father.
alastor rubbed her shoulders before sighing. he detached himself from charlie as stopped in front of her, next to vaggie.
“very well then” he extends his hand mournfully to charlie, eyes locked into hers.
“then there’s no point in having you deliver my love letter anyway” charlie looks at his hand, then his face, before looking at the slightly crumpled letter.
“please, charlie, don’t make this harder for me” alastor continues, empathizing his hand.
charlie looks at vaggie, then to the letter, then to the door and finally at alastor.
“…i’ll think about it” she mutters quietly, tucking the letter into her jacket as alastor’s sad demeanor changes like a mask falling off.
“wonderful!” he grabs charlie and vaggie by the shoulders and starts hearding them towards the portal. yapping their ears off about how they’ll do amazing, and that heaven ‘won’t know what to do once they see you both.’
but vaggie continued to look back, husk’s slightly turned up face didn’t betray the emotion on it. one she never thought she’d see on him.
pity.
charlie left first, tugging vaggie in as she met alastor’s twinkling eyes, and shit eating grin as he waved.
alastor had won, and vaggie knows he’s going to get ready to celebrate his spoils.
i edited it and added some more… things 🤭
#tiyoin 🔎#I posted this on my other acc but I think im shadow banned on it el oh el#im so not normal about alastor#god I love him#going forward these are all ace! alastor#or platonic#I can't see this man in a romantic relationship that involves sex for some reason#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel spoilers#radio demon x reader#yandere alastor x reader
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what lies beneath us. - c. san (m)
➼ genre; fluff, smut, slight angst for the first half but i make it better quickly promise
➼ pairing; san x afab!reader
➼ au; established relationship, college au
➼ warnings; explicit smut
➼ rating; m/18+
➼ wc; 6.4k
one busy semester is all it took for you and san to find yourselves struggling to find footing in the storm that is your relationship, yet rather than let go, he asked for one more week, one more day, one last chance to help get you back to shore
part of the ...and it's snowing collab.
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➼ smut warnings; unprotected sex, oral: m, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, service-top san, san has some slightly submissive tendencies, coming inside
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You normally wouldn’t find yourself in Wooyoung’s apartment on a Tuesday morning, sitting at the bar counter beside his roommate with two mugs of coffee sitting on the granite between you, but you also haven’t had any leisure time to waste lately. It’s a miracle that Wooyoung is even up before ten o’clock, though that might be in part due to you pleading desperately over the phone to come over.
“Oh, you make her coffee but not me? The fuck is up with that, Hwa?” Speak of the devil, Wooyoung comes into the kitchen still rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“She’s a guest, you live here. And I had to wake you up because you slept through three alarms so my sympathy levels are close to zero right now.” Seonghwa flashes a faux shrug despite the heated glare he’s sent. Wooyoung lets out a huff but lets it go in favor of redirecting his attention to you.
“Right, well, what did you need to talk about so badly that it couldn’t wait until the afternoon?”
“San is coming over tonight, I couldn't do the afternoon,” you mumble.
“Is it about him then? Did something—” he waves a hand through the air like that’ll explain his thoughts, and when confusion shows on both your face and Seonghwa’s, he gives up “—did something happen between you guys?”
“It feels a bit awkward,” you admit over the rim of your coffee mug. Wooyoung scoffs at that, but Seonghwa is far more forgiving than your best friend in that he sends you a sympathetic grin.
“Awkward?” he prompts, toying with his own drink. Wooyoung pushes away from the counter and turns to the coffee maker.
“I don't know. Yeah, awkward, a bit. I guess. Like we don't know what we're doing or how to be in a relationship anymore.”
The brutal semester you both just suffered has been the main factor in the wedge in your relationship. Weekends full of studying, ones that you spent together at the start of the semester when he would come to your place or vice versa so that you could be together even while working. Then, San started picking up more shifts at his part-time job, and you had to redirect your focus to a particularly important internship that required you to forgo those weekends in the blink of an eye. You did have two weekends free of school and work, but San had to rush home during one of those on account of his mother falling ill. The other one was shot by you falling ill with the worst cold you’ve known in all your years of living. San came by that Friday with your favorite chicken and beer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk getting him sick when you knew how important the semester was to him too. It didn’t keep him from coming by again Saturday and Sunday both, soup was delivered to your front door along with voice messages wishing you well throughout the night. Even your text conversations were fizzling into oblivion by the time finals rolled around, which only served to amplify your feelings of dread.
“Has he been acting differently?” Wooyoung tunes back into the conversation, this time more serious with his tone. “Like, he's pulling away or something?” Wooyoung stands on a different footing in this conversation and knows things Seonghwa doesn't in terms of your relationship with San. He's been there for you since well before you started dating San, and you're certain that he'll be there for you if it were to end tomorrow, the next day, or years down the line.
“It's gonna sound so childish and stupid but he hasn't been calling me nicknames since the semester ended.” You tuck your hands into your lap and shrink into yourself a little, feeling the hot burn of shame well up inside.
“That's not stupid at all, y/n,” Seonghwa reassures barely a second after you finish your train of thought. “That's not.”
“He's right. That's totally unlike San.”
“Not! Helping!”
“I'm just being honest?!”
“Look, y/n, I don't want you to start having doom thoughts or thinking the worst — that doesn't mean his feelings for you have changed.” You’re starting to think that you should’ve asked Seonghwa for advice from the start instead of Wooyoung. “Maybe he's feeling that awkwardness you are too, or maybe he's feeling insecure. The only way to know is to ask. Have an open and honest conversation about it.”
“But…” You glance past Seonghwa to look at Wooyoung's back. Without even needing to look back, he seems to feel the weight of your stare.
“You're scared that if you bring it up, the worst will happen and y'all will break up.”
“We've been dating for so long that I don't know what I would do if that happened. I don't know how to be single, no offense to either of you, but it's just that we've been together for so long now. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it ended.”
“If…” Wooyoung bites his words back as though he's unsure of how they will come out. “I don't want this to sound harsh, but if all it takes for him to lose his feelings for you is one busy semester, then that's not someone I would want you to have a future with. I know it's not up to me and it's not my business, but I want you to value yourself more than you value your relationship with San.”
“I truly don't think he's lost his feelings for you, y/n,” Seonghwa cuts in again, hand darting out across the counter in your direction. “Woo is right; you should value yourself more than the relationship you're in, but that doesn't mean you can only have one of those things. They can coexist.”
“What if I’m fighting for something he doesn’t want any longer?” you inquire softly and under your breath.
“The spark isn’t gone, y/n, I’m certain of that much. Maybe you just… need to find a way to reignite it!” The coffee maker dings loudly behind Wooyoung. And like it’s turning on a lightbulb in Wooyoung’s head, his expression turns suddenly bright. “Why not do just that? It’s been half a decade, to be fair, so really you can’t be blamed if things feel a little stale. If you went and did things that made you fall for each other in the first place, wouldn’t that help a bit?”
“I hate to say it…”
“You always say that when I’m right!”
“Ignoring him, that does sound like a good plan, y/n.”
Despite the reassurance from both your best friend and someone you consider to be far more mature and wiser, it doesn’t fully quell the concerns settling in your gut.
It’s only been six days since you last saw San, though you would argue that it feels a lot more like six months given how absent you both have been from each other’s lives of late. While that isn’t particularly your fault or his wholly — it’s definitely a joint effort that’s kept you apart — it does make your skin itch with anxiety every time you think about seeing him again.
It’s all culminated into this moment right now, where you sit on the edge of your couch waiting for the doorbell to ring and announce his arrival. You want to see him, desperately so, you’ve missed him so incredibly much that you can hardly stand it. And yet — you’re rooted to the cushions riddled by anxieties. You tried to rid yourself of the lingering stress after leaving Wooyoung’s apartment by doing chores properly for the first time in months, going so far as to run to the grocery and restock some necessities as well. You hate to be the type of partner who cannot do anything alone without associating it with your partner, but San was on your mind throughout the day.
Will he feel the same as you even though the flame keeping your relationship alive has been inching closer and closer to nothingness? The two of you don’t fight, in fact, your friends like to say that things go a little too smoothly between you two, and while that’s true, they aren’t aware of what it looks like when you and San aren’t getting along. It looks the way this semester has, slow conversations that lead nowhere and less time spent in each other’s presence. You aren’t fighting right now, but you certainly aren’t all sunshine and rainbows. The weather mirrors your emotions — dim greys shrouded by white flurries of snow that have been falling since early afternoon.
You clench your fingers around the seam of the couch cushion. No part of you wants to play the part of the overbearing partner: if you’re too eager to see him, wouldn’t he find it off-putting?
The doorbell rings.
It takes a moment for you to brace yourself for impact, standing and walking over to the door as slowly as you can manage without it seeming like a deliberate delay. The second you open the door, however, your worries melt away for a moment.
San smiles so brightly like you’ve not gone a second without reveling in each other’s presence. The weather is clinging to his coat still even though he had to climb three flights of stairs to reach your door. The little snowflakes are beginning to melt into the fabric.
“May I come in?” The facade cracks a bit. It’s not like him to ask such things, but you choose not to hold it against him now.
“Yeah, yeah, I finally had time to clean the other day so everything’s — nice.”
If your smile is strained, he says nothing about it, stepping over the threshold and into your apartment like it’s the first time he’s ever done so. He’s polite all the time, but now it makes those seeds of doubt sprout further because you’ve been together for five years now, what reason does he have to act like a stranger in your home? A home he’s been in time and time again, one he’s slept in, fucked you—
“Do you want ramen or pizza?” You force the thoughts to come to a halt before your expression turns bitter.
“Let’s do ramen, I’ll cut up the vegetables for you.”
There’s an elephant in the room that it seems neither of you wants to address, and so you keep your mouth shut just the same as San with the thought of “maybe this awkwardness will pass after tonight”. You watch him remove his coat and hang it up on the door while still picking at your nails. He extends a hand to you, one you take eagerly, and you lace your fingers through the gaps between his. A bit like a well-oiled machine, you think, something that Wooyoung had noted about the two of you as far back as freshman year of college. San presses his lips to the top of your head. You lean into the touch ever so slightly.
You share in a quiet synergy that carries you through the motions of preparing food, with no conversation exchanged aside from a “watch for the knife” and “careful, behind you” on occasion. You’re still trying to psyche yourself up to bring up what’s truly on your mind, so you aren’t sure that you’d be able to get any conversation out without it spiraling into insanity right off the bat. For the moment, for now, you want to simply drink in San’s presence.
He hums as he opens a cabinet in search of bowls, but they aren’t there.
“Oh, I—I moved the bowls to the other side.” Three months ago, your mind adds. It would do nothing but add salt to a blossoming wound. San stops dead in his tracks too. He seems to suffer the same crisis that you do right then. After a few seconds of mental buffering, he resumes his humming and shifts to the adjacent cabinet like the moment didn’t happen at all.
You sit beside each other at the bar counter, atop the uncomfortable stools you’ve had for well over two years now, but it offers a weird comfort because it’s familiar, it’s something San knows, it’s something you share and have shared for years.
“Thanks for the meal,” San says, still wearing a bitten-back smile.
“Of course. Thank you for helping.” But the detrimental reality of not speaking to someone properly for a long while is that part of you forgets how to make conversation with them. There is nothing for you and San to “catch up on” seeing as you’ve been keeping each other updated on your lives through dry text conversations. “Um…” He’s eyeing you carefully now, and you could pass off the watering in your eyes as the spice of the food, but he would call your bluff in an instant. The funny thing about doubt is that once it’s taken root, it’ll keep growing back no matter how many times you chop at the stem.
“What’s wrong, y/n?”
“It’s just — I don’t — are we breaking up?”
San freezes halfway over his ramen, chopsticks nearly falling from his fingers as he rushes to put his noodles back down. Your shoulders start shaking before you can stop it. He doesn’t stop you from turning away from him, but San has always been endlessly patient and gentle with you so you don’t expect him to ask you to look at him anyway. He does rest a hand atop your forearm though, and his thumb drags small, comforting circles over your skin.
“Talk to me, y/n, what do you mean by that? Why would we be breaking up?” The words themselves sound calm. There’s a slight quiver to his tone, however, that makes you want to crawl inside yourself and disappear. “A-Are you wanting that?” Your continued lack of response makes San more urgent than ever, and he shifts his hand to your leg, spinning you to face him. You can’t be certain of the expression on your face (though you’d wager there is some degree of hurt); whatever San sees makes him let out a distressed noise from the back of his throat. “Come here, duck, talk to me.”
Standing on somewhat shaky legs, you push yourself closer to San, and he instinctually moves his knees apart to let you tuck yourself into the space there.
“Don’t cry, baby, I’m here, you can talk to me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your face in his hands. You reach down to cling to his shirt like it’s a lifeline.
“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in weeks. This is the first time we’ve spent time together in six days. We’ve barely spoken or spent time together all semester, and I know why — I know we agreed that school and work have to come first. I know that.” Your voice drops to a whisper as you lose the confidence to speak. “I didn’t think it would mean losing you though.”
“You haven’t lost me, y/n. I’m still here, with you, loving you just as much as ever.” San smiles a little as you push your cheek further into his palm. “My feelings have not changed. I thought about you every day, wondered how you were doing, and if you responded to my texts late, I hoped you were eating well and getting enough rest. I listened to your voice memos rooting for me every night. Your face was always the first thing I saw in the morning because I still keep that slideshow of you as my lockscreen.” Reaching around to the back of your neck, he gives you a little tug, and your foreheads bump together. “The thought of you helped get me through the semester because I knew that it was you who was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.”
“Sannie…”
“How long have you been worried over this, baby? You should’ve come to me the moment you started having doubts. I wouldn’t have let this go on if I had known.”
“I thought I felt you pulling away so I was scared to bring it up. You weren’t calling me nicknames anymore, and I started reading into it too much and freaked myself out.”
“I’m so sorry, y/n. Don’t put the blame on yourself, it’s not a crime to have anxieties. I didn’t even realize I stopped using them. I suppose I just got swept up in my own feelings and wanted to call you by your name as much as possible.” He nudges you with his head again. “Because I missed you so dearly.” Your lips turn up at the corners, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “And because I adore you so so much, my y/n.”
“Stop that.” You hope he doesn’t, truly.
“But I’m so mushy and full of love for you, y/n.”
“You’re gonna make me blush.”
“Oh, I can think of other ways to do that, baby.” San stands, subsequently pushing his body into yours, but your hands are still on each other, his moving down to caress the back of your thigh before he hooks his fingers around the bend of your knee and hoists your leg up over his hip. “I haven’t been good to you, my sweet,” he murmurs close to your lips. “What kind of boyfriend am I if I let you feel unwanted?” Your heart skips a beat as he grips tight at your other leg, then you’re suddenly weightless for a second as he hoists you up to his waist.
“We just ate—”
“I don’t plan on letting that stop me.” You let out a gasp as San traces the line of your jaw with his lips, hot breath spilling across your skin as he carries you from the kitchen. “Unless you want it to?” This damned man knows what he’s doing, he knows the hold he has over you — your brain is already turning into a foggy mess of want, and even the prospect of waiting two minutes for him to lay his hands on you is too much to bear. Your nails drag across his shoulders, tugging at the thin material. He misses the doorknob to your bedroom thanks to your antics, sending you against the wood a little harshly and forcing the air out of your lungs. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Still on the pill.”
“Hm?” he echoes, managing to turn it right on the second try and popping it open properly.
“I’m still on the pill,” you repeat. San freezes in place to stare at your face. You bring a hand around to toy at his parted lips with your thumb. “So you can fuck me raw.”
San becomes so dumbstruck that his jaw moves up and down over and over without any semblance of noise coming out.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a horny teenager,” he says under his breath. You drop your head back and laugh. San’s hold on you feels so blissfully warm. You didn’t even have time for this during the semester, sometimes thanks to your workloads but more often thanks to sheer exhaustion. A few solo jaunts before bed are hardly enough to please you the way San does. Based on how tightly he’s gripping your ass, he seems to feel exactly the same.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
He manages to get you both to the bed without further incident, laying you down on the mattress with a sort of reverence that makes your chest swell with emotion. Even through the barrier of clothing, his fingers are hot and sear a path from your hips up your waist then right back down again as San wastes no time in stripping you of your pants.
“I missed you so fucking much it’s insane.” You want to respond, but the sight of your lover dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed stops you in your tracks. All you can do is lie there and watch him tug your pants off, lips moving to kiss each bit of exposed skin along the way. Goosebumps rise across your body when he kisses his way up higher. His broad frame cages you in the closer he gets to your face, and despite his hands being on the somewhat small side, they feel all-encompassing when they’re sneaking under your shirt and exploring the skin beneath.
“I missed you more,” you murmur, catching his chin between your fingers and angling his face upwards so you can properly look at him. “I love you so so much, San. More than I can put into words.”
“Yeah?” You make no effort to pull him higher although he moves as though you do and climbs all the way up to be right over your face. He hums before dipping down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I think I’ve missed you more still though—” another kiss, this time to the opposite side of your mouth “—but you’re welcome to challenge me on that.”
“San,” you whine. He pulls back and sits back on his knees. Your brain goes totally blank watching him take his shirt off. It’s something you’ve seen time and time again, truly nothing new or foreign to you, but something about it now makes your gut twist in on itself. He’s lost a bit of the muscle you’ve grown accustomed to seeing on him, now softer around the edges, at the waist and across his stomach. It doesn’t curb your desire for him in the slightest; if anything it makes you want him more, to cling to him tighter and feel him firmer against you.
He throws the shirt down to the floor and drags a hand through his dark hair. His legs are splayed around yours, putting the prominent bulge in his pants on full display before you.
“I want you to use me, y/n.” He grabs your hand from where it’s resting against the bed and brings it to his chest. You dig your nail into his flesh like it’s second nature to do so. “Tonight, for your pleasure.” His eyes trail after your every moment, watching as you sit up and pull your legs out from under him. You graze the underside of his dick ever so slightly yet it’s still enough to make his lashes flutter.
“Then…” San is like putty in your hands, conforming to every move you make while still maintaining that unbreaking eye contact. He turns with you, and you climb off the bed to stand despite feeling seconds away from toppling over. All it takes is the slightest push against his chest for him to lie flat on his back. “Will you be good for me?”
His response comes in the form of a bitten-back whine thanks to you cupping the bulge of his cock as you withdraw your hand. It’s intoxicating to strip him of his jeans and feel every inch of his pretty tapered waist. You urge him to move further up on the bed, making room for you between his legs once you’ve tossed his pants down beside yours on the floor. The tip of his cock peeks out the top of his underwear, already stiff and leaking precum onto the elastic band. Saucy nudes here and there don’t do him nearly enough justice, you think. You tease just the bit of him that's exposed with your tongue, licking at the sensitive and swollen head, and he twitches beneath the fabric. Humming to yourself, you inch his underwear down just far enough to put his whole member on display, along with his balls, but you don’t go any further than that. It’s enough for you to get your mouth around him, after all, and that’s exactly what you do without giving San any time to brace himself for the touch.
He lets out a desperate moan the moment your wet heat envelopes his length, fingers curling into his palms around the comforter. His hips twitch with the desire to thrust upwards, but he keeps himself firmly planted on the bed, fulfilling his end of the bargain for you and being so delightfully good. The weight of him on your tongue isn’t nearly enough; you want him buried deep inside you as soon as possible, and you’d go on and do it now if you didn’t think it would hurt like a bitch given how long it’s been since you’ve taken him. San isn’t distracted enough to miss the way you retract a hand to touch yourself, and he fights to speak through broken moans.
“I w-wanna touch you, pretty.” You lift yourself off his cock until just the tip sits on your lower lip.
“I’ll let you later when I ask you to fold me in half and fuck me into the mattress.” You sink two fingers into your hole, taking San back into your mouth to revel in that full feeling again. You’re just as needy as he is, in reality, because your walls are already coated with arousal and it pools around the base of your fingers in such a way that it makes your cheeks flush. San’s noises aren’t helping in the slightest — for as quiet as he is in day-to-day life, he is ever so vocal when it comes to sex, especially when his cock is buried in your mouth. He’s just long enough to push right into the back of your throat, making it far easier for you to take him fully.
“Your mouth feels so — fuck, fucking good, baby.” If you weren’t preoccupied, you would love to return his words with your own, so you settle for tugging at his balls a little. It earns you a delightful little yelp, and his hips buck up to drive his dick further into your throat than expected. “Hngh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“I want—” you don’t finish your train of thought, too rushed to bother with it as you scramble to rid yourself of your underwear. San greets you with his hands when you climb back onto the bed and grabs hold of your waist. He tugs and pulls at your shirt until it’s gone too, leaving you with nothing more than your plain black bra. However, even that San seems to find issue with, because he toys with the clasp until it comes loose and throws that aside too.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, settling back against the mattress. He’s always told you this is his favorite position, to see you straddling his hips and bouncing on his cock, though he favors missionary quite a bit as well because it lets him see your body and face while he’s fucking you (despite how much he loves your ass). His cock is trapped between your pussy and his stomach now, hard and throbbing for the same kind of stimulation you so desperately crave. You drag your folds along his length a few times just to tease San, but he grips your hip in warning. In hindsight, you should have let him finger you open more before because the stretch is far more than you remember — not enough to hurt, but enough for you to really feel every inch of him entering your body. It makes you writhe atop him, your spine arches, and you drop your head back. San holds you like you're a precious gem, thick arms circling around your waist as you rest your hands on his chest. The position gives you some much-needed stability, but San's fingers have begun to get severely distracting. He rolls his thumbs into your skin, pausing only to squeeze and pinch at the more sensitive parts of your sides.
“I’m gonna start moving,” you whisper like being too loud will break some sort of seal. San nods and unwraps his arms enough to simply hold your hips. Despite the decrease in definition of his muscles, his strength doesn’t seem to have gone anywhere, because he lifts you with such ease that it’s a bit dizzying. Still, he lets the control rest in your hands. You sink down slowly on his cock, letting your walls get used to the drag, before doing the same motion two, three more times. The first whimper to fall from your lips is what snaps your resolve. San’s hold on you remains firm but only to ease the strain on your thighs as you begin to pick up your pace.
“Beautiful, beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my sweet.” San rolls his hips up in time with your movements, driving his cock up into your cunt as you drop yourself onto him, and it reaches so deep inside you that you see stars behind your eyelids. “Missed you so much, missed this, seeing your body through photos wasn’t enough — fuck, it wasn’t enough.”
“How many, ah, times did you come to those photos, hm?” You crack one eye open to watch San’s face. He’s already flushed with want, but the red in his cheeks deepens more upon hearing your question. You lean your weight further into your hands. “I fingered myself so many times thinking of you, Sannie. B-But, hngh, it wasn’t good enough. Not as good as your cock. Nothing… n-nothing feels as good!”
San thrusts up with more vigor now, all but taking over for you to go slack above him as he drives your hips down with his hands and pushes his length into you from the opposite direction. Then, suddenly, his movements falter and stutter to a halt, and he looks just as shocked as you are when his cock twitches against your walls. A blooming of warmth fills you right after, along with the realization that San has just come inside you without warning.
“I-I’m sorry, I — I didn’t mean to, ah, I thought I would last longer.” He slings an arm up over his eyes, and the red in his face deepens in hue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you come first.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Leaning down over him, you peel his arm away from his face so that you can see his shamed expression better.
“Your dick is far from the only thing that can make me come, babe. Right?”
He nods a few times, but there’s still a pout on his lips. You kiss it away.
“Then—” you detach yourself from his body, bringing about an unwelcome emptiness as his spent cock slips out of you, and roll onto your back beside him. He watches with rapt attention as you spread your legs and open your pussy to him. “Why don’t you?”
San moves with surprising haste for a man who has just come, rolling into the space between your legs, and while you expected him to just use his fingers to get you off, he hooks his hands around your thighs and shoves his face into your used cunt instead. It yanks a startled moan out of you, and it’s only amplified when he closes his lips around your clit. He’s lucky you don’t give him a concussion with how quickly you slam your thighs around his head. You don’t notice that he’s moved a hand until fingers are prodding at your leaking entrance and urging the come he just pumped into you back into your hole.
“O-Oh, San.”
Normally, he takes his sweet time eating you out, bringing you to the precipice of orgasm before sending you right back down time and time again without release. Though, either out of lingering shame at coming early or simply out of a desire to make you unravel, San laps at your clit so eagerly that it sends shudders through you. You can feel your blood rushing lower as he urges you to come, walls clenching around his fingers. It only takes another second more for the first wave to hit you, and it makes you scramble to grab hold of San’s hair as he keeps curling his fingers over your sweet spot. He does so throughout each wave of your orgasm until tears burn the corners of your eyes and you’re all but pleading for him to grant you some mercy.
“You — you had nothing to prove, you know,” you say between desperate attempts to catch your breath. San giggles and looks up at you from his lewd position. “Ugh!” You shove his head away from you half-heartedly just to spare yourself more embarrassment.
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, duck!”
You only go as far as the pillows, turning back to him immediately and opening your arms to welcome him into them.
“I came too early, of course I had something to prove,” he adds once he’s snugly placed against your chest. You slot together like two pieces of a puzzle, his head under your chin and your breath stirring the messy strands of hair in your path. “I’ve fallen out of practice. When was the last time I did that? It’s embarrassing…”
You can’t contain your laughter.
“You always come a little early when I ride you.”
“That’s not fair!”
All you can do to soothe him is pat his head. You feel a tad sticky and gross all over, but San’s warmth more than makes up for it, and if you’re not careful, you’re certain you’ll fall asleep within minutes. A small sniffle coming from the man atop you chases thoughts of rest away in the blink of an eye though.
“San?”
“’m okay, promise.”
“You’re crying, baby, that’s not ”okay“.”
“I just,” he inhales and licks over his lips, skating across your sternum in the process. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna stay afloat without you.” You comb your fingers through his hair.
“Tell me when you need me and I’ll be there. Always.”
“I didn’t want to disrupt your schedule and get in the way.”
“You have to trust that I’ll take care of myself and my responsibilities even if I help you too. You always tell me that when I worry over the same things. It goes both ways, San, okay?”
“Okay.” He nods against you. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that. As long as you don’t lock yourself away when things get tough. Rely on me if you need strength. And talk to me when something is on your mind.”
“Alright, we have an agreement.” Out of nowhere, you remember Wooyoung’s suggestion from this morning. Picking at a stray piece of San’s hair, you mull over your thoughts some more. You could let things settle as they are now since things seem to be back to a pleasant state of balance. But even so, would it do any harm to try anyway? “I’d like to go on a first date again. With you. I want us to go on a first date again.”
“Hm?”
“Like… I want us to go out like it’s the first time all over again. And feel that excitement and giddiness we had back then. We don’t have to, it’s just a thought. I don’t know. Maybe it’d be a good thing after this semester.”
Silence overtakes the room. San’s breathing is so steady that you think he’s fallen asleep, but the second you try to shift and see his face, he tilts his head up and looks into your eyes.
“Alright. Let’s go on a first date again.”
…
“I figured we’d go to that little Thai place by the grocery before heading over to the Christmas light show?”
“Oh!” Your thoughts rearrange themselves around his words. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”
“The guys wanna meet up at Wooyoung’s after for chicken and beer, but I told them I’d leave the decision up to you.” He tilts his chin a bit to the side as he speaks, lips quirked up at the corners, and you find yourself so incredibly fond of him all over again.
“Let’s see how we feel after walking around.”
You offer to drive tonight, but he denies you quickly, whining about how he filled his tank full of gas just for tonight so you don’t push the matter any further than that (though, you still tease him a bit once he opens the passenger door for you). When he turns the car on, music starts blasting through the speakers, a song you recognize well, and the dash shows that he’s been listening to the playlist you made for him at the start of the last school year.
“Sorry, forgot the volume was up so high.” He scrambles to twist the dial down, but you stop him with your hand, gripping his wrist lightly and giving a firm shake of your head.
“I didn’t realize you still listened to it. Normally you just have the radio going.”
“Ah, well,” San’s cheeks are a bit flush under the low lights of the car, “I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit sentimental these days.” His next move is a bit hesitant; he reaches across the console and lays his hand atop your thigh. You reassure him by putting your hand over his, fingers curling around his once again. It feels normal and familiar, though you can’t count on two hands the last time you’ve done something as menial as holding hands with San.
“San?” He makes a noise of acknowledgment while watching the road. “I’ve missed you.” His nails dig into your flesh a little, and the pressure makes your heart clench in your chest.
“I’ve missed you more.” You can only see his side profile, but it’s enough for you to catch the upturn of his lips.
“I’ve missed you most then.” The statement slips out through a pout.
“And I love you more than the moon loves the ocean.”
The weight of his hand is comfort enough for you to be at ease for the rest of the drive.
────────────
please like & reblog this work and consider leaving a reply or sharing your thoughts in a reblog or ask!
this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.
#ateez smut#ateez x reader#san smut#san x reader#choi san smut#choi san x reader#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#ateez imagine#ateez imagines#ateez ff#san imagine#san imagines#caly.writes#fic; and it's snowing#winter fic fest 2023#fic; what lies beneath us
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It's Not My Fault You're like In love with me or something | Charles Leclerc
SUMMARY: Y/n L/n new movie is opening new opportunities for her which means she has to do interviews were people can see her "lack of media training" and they start to doubt her relationship with Charles
FACE CLAIM: Reneé Rapp
pairings: Actress! Reader x Charles Leclerc
a/n: I actually enjoyed the new mean girls movie and I am deeply in lov3 with reneé so here you guys go!
via twitter
y/nupdates via instagram
liked by username101, username23, yourusername and 1,390 others.
y/nupdates y/n leaving the after party after taking a tumble
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username19 now I know why Charles been mia she's literally making a fool out of herself
username123 mother
username12 ngl she ate with that fit
yourusername still can't believe that a fan account is the one that is exposing me
landonorris thanking the gods that the internet and Digital footprints is real
y/n via instagram
liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,903,290 others
yourusername cast party baby! No one got hurt in the making of these pics
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username120 okay? but Charles wasn't there?
username19 The paps pictures literally put you on blast
pierregasly I think the moment you took that picture with the champagne was the perfect moment to stop drinking
→ yourusername just looking for the person who asked
username15 the girls are fighting. Please @charles_leclerc come get your girl
→ yourusername Come get your girl @pierregasly
francisca.cgomes you look so so beautiful
username192 Charles not commenting freaks me out
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yourusername via instagram
liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, arthur_leclerc and 2,302,290 others.
yourusername mean girls out in theaters now!
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username21 what? girl after that interview I would've turned the comments off
username12 don't you have media training or something
username19 her pr manager has to work harder than the mclaren one
username160 Mother
username12 it's so hard that the f1 fandom doesn't understand her humor
landonorris since my job isn't that hard Im taking a part time. What do we think about acting
→ yourusername I can send you an email. there an open cast call for dicks
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yourusername via insta stories charles_leclerc via insta stories
yourusername via instagram
liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc and 2,292,220 others.
yourusername her lack of media training is outrageous
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username190 girlie I'm so glad you are self aware about how iconic you are
username12 the girls who get it get it
username14 pls the caption
username280 her lack of media training is what makes y/n y/n
username189 her lack of media training is why we love her
username18 I'm tired of people saying that when it's literally you being yourself. Has no one ever seen her broadway videos?
username19 People saying that Charles can't stand her? hello read the room
username159 exactly! they forget that Charles knows she's like this and that why he loves her so much.
→ username1821 your parasocial relationship is insane
charles_leclerc via insta
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charles_leclerc on wednesday I wear pink with the girl clumsy girl I feel in love with
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yourusername love you charlie
landonorris the movie wasn't half bad
arthur_leclerc stream sexy
comment have been restricted
...
Y/n turned to face Charles with a small smile adorning her lips. He mimicked her actions as he placed his phone in between the two of them. His hand slowly reached towards her face pushing the hair away to get a better look of her eyes.
“You don’t mind then?” Y/n asked softly her eyes never leaving his to notice if there was any sort of discomfort. He shook his head no, not breaking eye contact.
“What leaves me surprised is the fact that you think it would bother me. I know you already, I’m aware that sometimes people don’t get your humor but I’ve been long enough with you to understand it” He said slowly pecking your lips to calm you down. You let out a chuckle as you played with his hair.
“Actually, I was worried that you would have to worry about me beating your ass in F1” Y/n said, throwing her head back laughing. Charles playfully rolled his eyes pushing her shoulder softly, accidentally knocking her off the bed.
“Shit sorry!” he quickly got off the bed helping her off “but, you don’t even have your license, so I think you should stick to broadway”
#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc x reader#charles lecrerc#charles leclerc imagine#mean girls#mean girls the musical#regina george#renee rapp#mean girls 2024#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#Charles Leclerc smau#f1 social media au#social media au#ferrari#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#scuderia ferrari#f1 2023#formula 1
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HEADKANONS MORTAL KOMBAT | "WHAT IS THE SEXUAL DIFFERENCE WITH THE S/O OF THE TWO JOHNNY CAGE?"
TW: afab anatomy, aggressive sex, age gap, fluff, v!sex, degradation, possessive sex, red flags, dilf johnny cage, mk1 and mk11 canon spoilers, pet names, smut, daddykink.
↺ OLD JOHNNY CAGE - MK11 ↺
He is the typical hot dilf man you meet at the grocery store buying groceries and talking about how expensive they are, starting a conversation with you in line while working up the courage to ask you out, but forgetting to ask for your number.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - would take it slow with you not wanting to scare you, his company was relaxing and calming, making you feel safe and secure. He likes to tell dad jokes, after all, he is one, but he wouldn't mind going out with you, someone who is practically his daughter's age, after all, he knows he's better than a lot of young guys out there. He is a man who lived a lot, after his marriage and death he knew how to act and how to really please his partner.
He would talk to you on the phone sometimes before the date, just to get to know you even more.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - will pick you up at home with his car, it's not something luxurious, after all, he became detached from luxury as soon as he married Sonia and joined the military.
He would take you to a fine restaurant in the city, being a gentleman pulling out the chair for you to sit, and making you comfortable enough to talk to him. He wouldn't bring up the subject of Sonia's death, because it was a painful subject, he would always love her, but now he had to move on with his life, and if you wanted, it could be with you.
He knows he's seductive, even though he's 56 years old, he looks much younger too, always wearing shirts that expose his physique, especially his biceps, but he does it naturally, with a heartthrob charm, something he knows well be.
He likes to buy you dinners, being a gentleman, not out of pride but because he likes to see your smile on your face, but if you want to be independent go ahead, he likes people with attitude.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - would make you an announcement like "Hey, we've been hanging out together for a while, how about making it official sweetie? Will you be my boyfriend/girlfriend?" -He just said, looking at you, while taking a promise ring out of his pocket, giving you the choice of whether it was his or not. If you say "yes" get ready for a crazy ride with a crazy hot old man.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - is a man with an above average libido for his age, he knows how to take care of you, loving to eat out, especially if you call him "my old man" he took that nickname for himself, so you can expect Johnny discreetly rubbing his hips against you with his pulsing cock full of semen, ready to fill you up, while whispering softly in your ear: "-Fuck baby, look what you did to your old man... Making my cock hard like that , you know Daddy is going to fuck you now right?”
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - is a soft dom, he likes to dominate you, see you whimper beneath him, but he will always prioritize your pleasure first, always working on your clitoris with his mouth and fingers - he knows how to suck extremely well, curling his fingers inside gives your pussy, even if you like it, doing a tongue job on your ass, he also loves anal, so if you let him, he will fuck you in all the holes, with a constant rhythm, dominant but affectionate -
You won't get a punishment from him, don't even try, he's a trained man, if you try to make him jealous so he can fuck you roughly - even moaning another name in bed won't help - Johnny will just laugh and shrug his shoulders -
"-Baby, I'm too old for this, it won't help, if you want me to be ruder, just say ok?" -Cage would say, smiling at you while winking, it was true, if you wanted aggressive sex, just say so, but your dilf boyfriend would guarantee that you wouldn't be able to walk for a long time.
He likes to praise you during sex, not being a big fan of degradation, but if you want, he can mix the two.
"My beautiful little slut"
"You're a good slut with a beautiful pussy, you know that?"
"Such a naughty prince/princess... I love your little pussy in my fucking cock..."
"Yes take my dick like the good boy/girl you are."
He likes to cum all over you, breasts, ass, pussy, belly, thighs and face, everything needs to be properly marked for him.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - who likes to fuck you in every corner of the house, lifting you in his arms while he hits your hard dick against your clitoris, making you squirm on his dick - he's vasectomized, meaning you don't need to worry in getting pregnant by him - he will fill you with cum, praising you for taking everything he gave you - "-Yes... my good boy/girl, taking all your old man's cum with that beautiful pussy, you deserve a reward you know? " -
↺ NEW JOHNNY CAGE - MK1 ↺
He is much softer in personality, he likes to see everything with joy in his eyes, even if they are serious matters. He would be the kind of guy you would randomly talk to on the subway, and yes, he did bring up the subject with you while smiling and lowering his sunglasses to get a better look at you.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - would get your number quickly, saying that you two can go out one day if you want - he doesn't really care if you recognize him as a movie actor or not, he liked you as a person and wants to get to know you a lot better - And in a few weeks of conversation, he will already be in love with you, waiting for your call or notification from you, he will bother you a lot too, more than 30 messages in less than 2 hours if you don't respond to him.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - will pick you up at your door in a luxurious sports car, saying that he got your address from a friend from the FBI - Yes, it was Kenshi - and that he was going to take you shopping with him, you hadn't even showered yet.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - will give you a prince/princess day, buying everything you want, without hesitation. He was also going to use the opportunity to vent about how he felt after the divorce with Cris, while smiling looking at you, mentally thanking you for having you in his life, he is a lonely man, even with some friends, he feels empty, probably because of his daddy issues, but he won't show weakness to you, at least not at first.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who will beg you to sleep in his mansion, having a "girls night" with him and you watching several cliché films - films even from the beginning of his career - while he and you walk around in silk pajamas combining for the mansion. He also likes to take care of himself, that is, get ready to take care of his hair, whether it's helping him moisturize, coloring his hair or giving him skin care. Johnny will also let you test your makeup skills on him, taking lots of photos with weird and silly filters afterwards.
He will also ask you to be a boyfriend/boyfriend much quicker, a few dinners and caresses later and Johnny will be on your feet. His proposal will be in person, with him holding a big bouquet of roses and winking at you in a cheesy way, but he was visibly nervous, shaking and sweating a little, especially his bottom lip.
"-I wanted to do this in person (Y/N)... I just- fuck-" Johnny tries to speak, still nervous, while taking a few breaths, finally recovering his posture. "-Will you date me?" He finally continues the request, nervous and afraid of rejection, but if you accept him he will let out a sigh of relief, and then you will have to calm him down, because he will be pale from being so nervous.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - He fucks you slowly the first few times, soft jazz music played in the background of the five-star hotel room you were staying in that weekend, it was the first time you had sex, and he was controlling himself so as not to hit you hard On the mattress, he felt his hips sway with each sweet moan that left your lips, he held you tighter and started to pick up the pace even more. His eyes were closed and he seemed to feel the heat rising inside him. His moans were driving him crazy.
"-Oh Lord..." Johnny Cage whispered, as if he wanted you to hear how good you made him feel, he held your hands tightly and started moving even faster. His breathing was heavy. "-Please...tell me to go faster baby, please."
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - Who is extremely jealous, you can't make him jealous, this will end with Johnny having aggressive possessive sex with you, holding your head against the mattress with expensive sheets, slightly suffocating you. His pulsing cock was pounding into your uterus at a punishing and painful pace. "-Look at you (Y/N)." he sneered, his voice full of disdain.
"-A pathetic, desperate slut, begging for release. Did you honestly think you could find satisfaction with anyone other than me? That anyone else could make you feel the way I do?" -He turned you around, forcing you to face him, Johnny was sweaty, his gaze was pure hatred and jealousy. "-You disgust me" he spat in your face as he took your lips in an aggressive kiss that left you breathless, his tone full of contempt. "-You thought you could show off your body and tempt others? Thinking you could get away with it? No, my precious, there are consequences for your actions." Cage accelerated the movements of his dick in your wetness, while he growled between moans, taking his hands to your breasts and squeezing them.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who likes a bit of everything, you can pin him with your wrists to the bed, and use his dick for your pleasure, with his mouth gagged with your panties, watching you enjoy him, while he begs for you, so you can let him cum inside the heat of your pussy, tearing up as he looks at you, whimpering against the fabric in his mouth.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who even though he loves seeing you on top, loves even more being a hard!dom and fucking you with all the accumulated lust he has, hitting his dick on your pussy, rubbing the tip of his fat dick on your clitoris to make you squirm, who loves to run his hand over the bulge that his dick makes in your belly, while he enters your pussy and makes you tremble, he loves to degrade you, making you always be his submissive.
"-Look at you, completely wet, just begging for my cock."
"-Come for me. Show me how much you want my cock, how much you need me to fill you like the submissive whore you are."
"-I'm the only one who can use and pleasure that sweet pussy of yours."
"-You're nothing but a whore to me." "
"-Fucking hell- Yes... You're nothing but a pathetic little whore, begging for someone to fuck you, a pretty, pathetic whore for my dick."
"-That beautiful mouth of yours was made for just one thing: to give me pleasure. To worship every inch of my cock."
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - Who will fuck you on top of the piles of money he earned, spread out on the mattress, messy - wolf of wall street style - while you feel the dollar bills scratch you, while he smiles at you, holding your thighs while your pussy swallows him. "-What will you want baby? a car? a Versace bag? another house in Malibu? anything you want, just moan and talk to daddy in that pretty voice, and I'll give you everything you want my prince/ Princess." He went back to fucking you, watching your breasts bounce as the money bills scattered across the floor, and you moaned in response to him.
©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
#yanderestarangel#afab reader#mortal kombat#mortal kombat fandom#tw smut#mortal kombat fanfiction#mortal kombat x reader#mk1#mortal kombat smut#johnny cage smut#johnny cage imagine#johnny cage mk#johnny cage#mk johnny cage#johnny cage x you#johnny cage x y/n#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage mk1#johnny cage mk11#mk11#mk11 x reader#mk1 smut#mk1 johnny cage#mk11 johnny cage#mortal kombat headcanons#mortal kombat headkanons#mk1 2023#mk1 x reader#smut headcanons#smut
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code breaker
premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.
pairing: joel miller x (f)reader
word count: 6.2k
warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).
note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3
There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…
But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.
The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.
You know for certain your ex's face is.
Good.
You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses.
Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.
"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another.
"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."
"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."
"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."
"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach.
Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days.
A girl can dream.
And she has. Embarrassingly.
The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.
An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God.
And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity.
Gratefulness.
Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you?
When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings.
He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.
When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.
That’s the thing about Joel.
He was always there.
If you needed help, he always seemed to find time.
Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before.
And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks.
Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over.
"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped."
And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"
"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone."
"Hey! I could punch someone."
"Could and would are two different things."
"You sayin I couldn’t?"
"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t."
"Not tough enough?"
"Your heart's too big."
"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured."
"I’m shaking in my boots."
"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn. On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.
There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.
"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."
He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.
Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?"
"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch."
"You should still get it looked at."
"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?"
Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel."
"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."
"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."
"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?"
"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out.
A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red.
"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully.
"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts.
"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll.
"Don’t alert the press."
"Oh, they’ve already been informed."
His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky.
When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting.
After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink.
"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."
"She’s with a friend tonight."
"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him.
He snorts, "don’t know about all that."
"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin.
"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"
"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."
"It’s deadly."
"Truly."
"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money."
You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be.
But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say.
"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.
No one had acted as quick as Joel had.
Joel Miller was a good man.
"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand.
And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know.
Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.
Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma.
So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind.
"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good."
The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle.
"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke.
"Look at me."
You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks.
There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.
What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now.
When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?"
"A what—pity kiss?"
"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?"
Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."
"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?"
"Exactly."
There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.
"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."
"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath.
And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate.
"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.
An agreement.
"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks.
"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his.
"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders.
Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.
Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one.
His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him.
The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you.
He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl.
"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.
If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.
The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers.
You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now.
You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can.
"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.
The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth.
It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs.
Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence.
Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.
The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked.
"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.
"Do you wanna change that?"
The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously." There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.
It can be all about you.
It is all about you.
You deserve nothing less.
His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken.
Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."
"I caused?" His brows shoot up.
"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.
The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis.
Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.
He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.
You really did date assholes.
Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging.
"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth.
He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center.
He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"
And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.
"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection.
"Glad I’m amusin’ to you."
Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are."
I’m clean.
I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises.
We’re protected.
Now take me already.
The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.
It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag.
And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.
"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back.
There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight.
When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel.
"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."
"Joel."
"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock.
"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after.
And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."
"He owes me fifty bucks."
There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"
"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though."
"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully.
"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.
"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."
"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.
"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.
"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.
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I keep thinking about what slotting the Job sequence in between the Flood and the Crucifixion does for Crowley’s arc, and his relationship to both Aziraphale and heaven.
@amuseoffyre did a great analysis of the importance to Aziraphale's arc here that sparked this thought, but it sent me down a rabbithole because A+C are both having very different experiences here.
Compare how Crowley bounces up to Aziraphale at the flood vs how standoffish he is when the angel shows up to the Job situation. Aziraphale is the one who's all friendly, "Oh it's you!" while Crowley... is pretty businesslike, at least until he gets the chance to start rubbing the reality of the situation in the angel's face.
The flood pissed Crowley off. Job is the first time we start to see the more bitter Crowley we'll get to know. In the Garden he was bemused about overreactions and almost having fun poking this angel with questions about God's plans. Beginning of the flood sequence he was pretty playful. This whole earth thing hasn't been so bad so far, and oh here's that weird angel again, that's fun.
But then he gets hit with God turning on their creation without warning, again. And the flood was at least in God's name ("That's more the type of thing you'd expect my lot to do," he said. Wasn't heaven supposed to be the good guys?). But now with Job? God turns their back and just... doesn't stop hell. Heaven's hands stay clean while hell dirties their evil little claws. Oh, so this is how things are, Crowley realizes. This is the part he's meant to play. Fine.
And seeing how he acts here... I can't help but feel like he'd mostly given up on Aziraphale after the flood. After Crowley went, "Wtf, this is clearly an atrocity," and Aziraphale stuck to "You can't judge the Almighty!" ...well. Giving away the flaming sword was probably a fluke. Just another tool of heaven, that one. Disappointing, but what should he have expected?
So all through their Job interaction he plays up his demonicness, trying to force Aziraphale to toe the party line and prove Crowley's new view on things right, once and for all. But there is a crack there, because not-so deep down Crowley would love for Aziraphale to surprise him again.
(After all... he is lonely. Try some wine with me, or have an ox rib, angel.)
(Fascinated by the difference in Crowley's gleeful "That's just how it started for me, see you in hell" vs. "I'm not taking you to hell, Angel. I don't think you'd like it." And only admitting to the loneliness once he isn't totally alone anymore; I think the original lie was more to himself than anything. He's angry, he's bitter, these righteous angels shouldn't think they're any better than him, not when they can doubt too. But when it comes down to it? No, I don't actually want to drag you all the way there. Something about guns and miraculous escapes, and his comment about Wee Morag, it's different when it's someone you know, isn't it. Hm. Anyways.)
By the end of the Job situation they have a moment where they confirm they are more similar than they thought. But it's not a happy thing. It won't be until Rome when they start enjoying each other's company just for the sake of it. So at the crucifixion Crowley comes up to Aziraphale still prodding at him. You happy about this, Angel? You smirking over how righteous it is? But now instead of, "You can't judge the Almighty," we get "I'm not consulted on policy decisions." Implying he disagrees without really saying it. And that's enough for now, Crowley will take it.
From the flood -> Job -> crucifixion -> Rome, we see Crowley get angry, then more and more resigned and bitter. Until Aziraphale reaches out and pulls him out of it.
#i like how the Job sequence both shakes things up and doesn't at the same time#it's not totally necessary to make the arc work but the context helps you understand so much more#good omens#good omens meta#good omens 2#good omens spoilers#crowley#v watches good omens#job flashback
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Factory meetings vol.2 - LN4
Lando Norris x fem!reader
summary: second part to: Factory meetings
notes: Better late than never lol. Sorry for the long wait! But I write everything on PC, and of course something happened to it so I had to get it fixed. And not only that, but when I sat down to finally write, I had major writer's block! But here it is!! FINALLY!!
warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut (double smut bby), unprotected (wrap it before you tap it!) p in v, language, jealous!Lando, rough, fingering, soft!Lando (shit got real at the end lol)
word count: 10k
masterlist
It had been a week since it happened. And next week you were supposed to see him again, the Chinese grand prix coming up. You were freaking out to put it mildly.
You had spent your off time at home, and you had shared what happened with Sophie. And as you suspected, she was shocked and a little grossed out. But you knew she would come around. And she did, so she asked you about all the details, when you told her, the two of you screamed and laughed together. Now the whole thing had turned into a sort of inside joke between you and Sophie.
But as the race week was coming up, you got more and more nervous. What was he going to act like now? You really didn’t want to face him, knowing what the two of you had done together. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it, day and night, it was seared into your brain. (But you didn’t want to stop thinking about it either.)
Walking into the paddock on Friday, you did your usual routine, unbothered by anyone. You made your way into the garage, and walked over to the workbench against the wall, and started looking through your tools.
You sorted through a few of them, getting them ready, knowing which ones you would need the most today.
You enjoyed getting into the garage a little earlier than the others, having some quiet, alone time. And getting in the zone. Focusing on your job so much that you didn’t notice someone walked in.
Lando walked into the garage, knowing you would be here. He only came here for you. He walked up behind you and looked over your shoulder, watching you picking up the different small tools.
You were so focused, but a familiar scent flooded your nose. He smelled so intoxicating, it literally made your knees weak. And the second it hit you, and you felt his hot breath at the back of your neck. You froze, and dropped the tool in your hand, making a clattering sound as it hit the table.
“Sorry, did I scare you baby?”
He was so close to your ear, and you could feel the smirk on his face.
You could not move, or utter a word. So Lando stepped to the side, and leaned his hip against the counter.
“I’m sorry, I was just curious to see what you were doing” He smiled sweetly at you, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“I- uh, I was just sorting through my tools, getting the ones I need the most” You answered without thinking, still somewhat confused why he was being nice.
“Oh, ok” he nodded, looking towards the tools like he was thinking about something.
You felt your jaw clench, and your eyes stared daggers at him. Your brain was connecting the dots. Of course he wasn’t being nice to you, he was looking for ways to annoy you, and tease you.
He reached his hand out to grab a small screwdriver to look closely at it.
“What is this one for?” He looked up from the screwdriver to meet your eyes with a soft look.
He was not fooling you. Lando could see your whole demeanor had changed. And you could see the look in his eyes changed, for some reason he looked kind of worried? It knocked you off balance, and the look in your eyes softened.
“Sorry if I'm bothering you, I was just curious” He looked dejected as he went to put the screwdriver back in its place.
Before you had any time to think, your hands flew out to grab onto his hand before he dropped the tool.
“No, I’m sorry” “You’re not bothering me” Your anxious eyes met his, but he looked back down to where you were both holding the screwdriver, your eyes following after.
You let his hand go and let out an awkward chuckle. Your eyes looking everywhere but him. But he stretched his hand out to give you the screwdriver.
“So you want to tell me what it’s for?” His sweet smile had returned, as you were forced to meet his eyes again.
“Uhm- yeah sure!” You grabbed the tool from his hand and turned on your heel to walk over to the front left tyre suspension.
You crouched down so your face was closer to the suspension. You turned your head to look for Lando, not feeling him behind you. He was still standing at the counter, so you waved him over. A giggle escaping you when he finally got the hint and walked over.
Soon enough he was beside you, crouched down just like you. So you pointed a finger to where the suspension was connected to the car.
“You see those small screws there?”
He looked a bit closer before turning to you. “yeah”
“Yup” “that’s what this is for” you held the screwdriver up as you nodded.
He let out a small chuckle. “You could’ve just told me that over there” He pointed towards where the both of you had been standing earlier.
“Yeah, but I wanted to show you.” “It’s good to know your car” You smiled brightly at him.
“Yeah, I guess” he smiled back.
You were just looking into eachothers eyes, completely lost in eachother. Until someone spoke up.
“What are you guys doing?” You looked up to meet the eyes of Jonas, one of your fellow mechanics.
“Oh- um, I was just showing him what this screwdriver is for” You held the tool up to show Jonas, trying to act as normal as possible, not like you had just been drowning in those gorgeous eyes.
“Okayyy..” Jonas narrowed his eyes at the pair of you before walking further into the garage.
You turned your head when you felt Lando stand up. Meeting his eyes when he towered over you, he stretched his hand out for you. It took you a moment to register before you put your hand in his, and he pulled you to your feet.
Now standing in front of him, you saw his mouth open and close, like he was going to say something. Lando was at a loss for words staring at you. The soft look you had in your eyes as you just looked at him, he felt like no one had ever looked at him that way. But he finally managed to get some words out.
“I- I have to go” “see you later” He nodded, and left before you could even say anything.
When he came back to the garage, to get ready for FP1, you talked with him when he got into the car.
“Everything’s good?” you asked, making sure the car seemed good.
“Yeah” “perfect like always Y/N” He smiled up at you.
“good”... “great”... “alright” You said as you tried to find something else to focus on, walking away to try and pretend to do your job.
You watched him put on his helmet, and when he finished adjusting it, he looked over at you and gave you a wink before he closed the visor, and drove out of the garage.
End of the day you walked towards the exit, ready to head back to the hotel. You had walked out with Jonas, getting a ride with him to the hotel.
Walking to his car, he nudged your side with his elbow.
“Hey” “What’s going on with Lando?” “I have never seen him like that” He had a sly smirk on his face.
“I really don’t know” “He just asked questions about the car, and I answered” You tried to laugh it off, he could not know what happened between the two of you.
“Weird” He laughed back.
Lando was standing by his car door, just about to get in before he heard your sweet laugh. He turned his head and watched you and Jonas talking and laughing together. You were standing so close. Lando felt his jaw clench, and his knuckles turned white when he squeezed his fists.
He watched the two of you get into the car and drive off, smile still present on your beautiful face. A smile he felt should only be for him. An unfamiliar feeling tugged at his heart, a feeling he didn’t like. And he knew the only person who could fix that, would be you. So he sped off after you, towards the hotel .
You and Jonas arrived at the hotel before Lando, and you didn’t waste any time making your way to your hotel room, saying goodbye to Jonas when you walked out of the elevator.
Entering your room, You headed straight to the pile of clothes on your bed, your comfy clothes, that you had left there when you had to change out of them this morning. After taking off your bra and putting the comfy clothes on, you collapsed on your bed, exhausted from the long day. You reached for your phone, and opened tiktok. But not even halfway through the first tiktok, there was a knock at your door.
It was quite aggressive, and it didn’t stop knocking. You figured maybe Sophie had just gotten back, and had some gossip to share with you. So you hurried over to open the door.
You tore the door open to stop the harsh knocking, and expected to be faced with Sophie, but instead you saw an angry looking Lando standing in front of you. You jerked your head back in confusion, and went to ask what he was doing here. But he was quicker.
He took a step forward, making you step backwards so he didn’t collide with you. He shut the door behind him, now in your room.
“Is he here?” He asked, frantically looking around the room.
“What?”
“Is Jonas here?” He was now staring at you, a fire in his eyes.
“What the fuck are you talking about Norris?” “And what the fuck are you even doing here?” You felt your eyes narrow at him, anger bubbling up inside you.
“I saw the two of you getting in his car, laughing and shit” “So you two are a thing now or what?” He took a step towards you, now so close that you could feel his breath on your face.
“Oh my god Lando!” You threw your hands up in frustration and opened your mouth to say more.
“Is. He. Here?” His voice was so low, and his eyes were so dark when he looked down at you.
“NO!” You yelled back.
And before you could tell him to get the fuck out, he grabbed the sides of your face and smashed your lips against his.
You melted at the kiss, and you snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you. You couldn’t control yourself around him.
Lando was so tense, and so aggressive. But the second you kissed him back, and held onto him. You felt him relax against you. The kiss immediately turning passionate and sweet.
But Lando was still jealous, and his hunger for you only grew as you kept kissing him back. He took slow steps forward, making you follow him towards the bed.
Before your legs hit the bed, you felt Lando grab onto the hem of your sweater and swiftly pulled it over your head, your tits bouncing from the sheer force he used.
His eyes immediately found your chest and he made the softest moan.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you” He muttered.
He tore his own clothes off, and yours. Until you both were completely naked. He wasted no time in capturing your lips again, his hands roaming all over your body, before they found their way to the back of your thighs, squeezing them to signal you to jump. And you did, no hesitation.
A moan escaped your throat when you felt his dick against your inner thigh. But you didn’t even have time to think about it before you back hit the soft mattress, as he threw you onto the bed.
Opening your eyes, you looked up to see Lando still standing there, looking at you with a hungry look in his eyes before he climbed onto the bed, and made his way between you legs.
Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, but he kept enough space between you, so his dick wasn’t near you, making you whine. You just wanted him already. His eyes immediately found yours when you made that sound, catching him off guard.
“I didn’t know you needed me that bad babe” “Patience darling” He grabbed onto your jaw as he brought your face closer to his and whispered “Patience”.
You crashed your lips against his, tightening your hold around his waist, trying to pull him closer. When he felt what you were doing, he pulled back and looked down at you with dark eyes.
“So needy”
You felt his fingers softly grazing the inside of your thigh, so close to where you needed him. Your hips moved, trying to find his fingers. And he gave in, tracing a finger through your folds.
He pushed a finger slowly inside, making you throw your head back and moan. He saw the effect it had on you, and soon added a second finger. Slowly pushing them in and out. And when he started tracing circles on your clit with his thumb, you were a moaning mess.
You grabbed a hold of his forearm that was resting on your thigh, and you opened your eyes and met his. He had that same dark look that you were getting used to seeing, and his mouth was slightly open. It was like he was studying your every facial expression, seeing how much effect he had on you.
You went to close your eyes again, you climax getting close. But he quickly pulled his fingers all the way out, the loss of his fingers making you gasp.
And when you opened your eyes to look at him, you saw him slowly bring his fingers to his mouth, he sucked his fingers clean and let out a groan at the taste.
“Fuck, you taste so sweet”
Without warning his fingers entered you again, forcefully sliding in and out. It made you arch your back from the sudden pleasure. You squeezed your eyes shut and grabbed a hold of the sheets beneath you.
It didn’t take long until he was satisfied and pulled them back out. And before you could complain again, he was above you.
You opened your eyes to see his face hovering above yours, you looked deep into his eyes, completely mesmerized. Until you felt something wet on your lips. You looked down to see the fingers he just had inside you.
“Now be a good girl and open up”
And you did. Slowly opening your mouth and welcoming his fingers.
You could taste yourself, and it made you moan. Sucking his fingers completely clean, swirling your tongue around the two digits. You could see it in his eyes, just how weak you made him.
He went to pull his fingers out of your mouth, but before they completely left your mouth, his grip tightened around your jaw.
As he was holding on to your jaw, he looked deep into your eyes as he entered you, hard, until he bottomed out inside you. It caught you off guard and you let out a loud moan.
“Fuck” “I missed you so much sweetheart” His voice was low and rough.
He slowly pulled out of you, until his tip was the only thing inside you, before he slammed back into you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He kept thrusting at a relentless pace, making your breathing uneven as he was slamming into you. His hold on your jaw softened, as he soon let his hand wander down to softly rest against the side of your throat.
He buried his head in your neck, making you hear every small sound he made. His breathing heavy, and small groans he let out. You wanted- no. You needed to hear more.
You wrapped your legs tighter around him, and your fingers raked up his biceps and shoulders, until they found the back of his neck.
You were clawing and grabbing at anything you could. And you arched your back as much as you could, the pleasure immense.
You whined in his ear. “Lando”
It made him lift his head out of your neck, his face red and sweaty. Some of his curls stuck to his forehead. He looked heavenly.
It made you grab the sides of his face, dragging him down so his lips landed on yours. It was sloppy and wet, but god, the way his mouth felt on yours was breathtaking.
Lando was the one to break the kiss, lifting his head to catch his breath. As he looked down at you, your mouth slightly open, your lips wet and pink, your pupils dilated as you looked deep into his eyes. It made him mutter out a string of curse words as he picked up his pace, chasing his orgasm.
He found that spot inside you that made you see stars, your own orgasm getting close. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, as you kept looking up at Lando, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.
Lando’s hand, which had been resting on the side of your throat, moved to wrap itself around your throat, and he tightened his grip. He didn’t make it difficult for you to breathe, but he was putting pressure that made everything feel so much better.
Your hands wrapped themselves around his forearm, nails digging into his skin. Your mouth opened as you let high pitched moans slip out.
“You like that huh?” He was almost grinning at you.
You couldn’t get words out, but a drawn out “mhm” came out of you.
Your orgasm was so close, as Lando’s pace had only picked up, and he was still slamming into you with so much force.
Lando felt it, your pussy clenching just a little bit more around him.
“You close? hm?”
“Yes” Was all you managed to get out, your eyes closing as you focused.
It took all the strength Lando had to slow his pace and soften his movement just enough to not make you cum yet.
Your hips moved to try and chase your orgasm, but when Lando felt that, his hold on your throat squeezed to get your attention.
Opening your eyes, you were met with Lando’s dark eyes. You couldn’t help but beg.
“Please let me cum” “Please Lando” You sound as whiny as you could, hoping he would give in.
“I will” “When you tell me who you belong to” His voice was deep and he sounded almost angry. But a smirk grew on his face when he felt your pussy clench again, just from what he said.
“You Lando” “I belong to you” You were giving him your all, desperate for him to let you cum.
“And who’s the one making you feel this good?”
“You Lando” “It’s all you” you moaned. “Please”
“Fuck sweetheart” “I can’t resist you when you beg like that”
His hand left your throat and circled around your waist, his palm spread on your back. He lifted you with him as he sat further up on his knees. The only thing holding you in this position was his hand, his other hand on the bed, holding the both of you up.
Your own hands grabbed onto his shoulder to hold yourself against him.
He started moving his hips again, still inside you. This new position made him go just a bit deeper, making you feel fuller than before. Your climax nearing quickly.
His head once again found the crook in your neck, and buried itself there making small sloppy kisses along your neck and shoulder.
Your hand flew up to grab onto his curls as he fucked up into you, until your climax finally hit. A drawn out moan escaping you as every muscle in your body tensed before they relaxed, finally getting that release.
You felt Lando’s teeth sink into your shoulder as he filled you up. A low groan coming from him.
He slowly let you sink back on the bed, collapsing on top of you, breathing ragged as one of your hands caressed the back of his neck.
You hadn’t felt this relaxed in months, his now soft breathing almost lulling you to sleep, until you hear him softly mutter against your skin.
“I can’t get enough of you"
You stirred awake as the brightness of the sun hit your face. Slowly opening your eyes, you looked out of the window to see the sun rising, it was gorgeous.
You felt so cozy as you laid tangled in your sheets. You closed your eyes again to just enjoy the quiet morning. But right as you did, you hear someone breath out a quiet sigh against your shoulder. Opening your eyes and turning your head, you were met with a still sleeping Lando.
His face was turned towards you and both of his arms were wrapped tightly around you. His curls were messy, and cute. He looked so peaceful.
You had never seen him like this, because usually he was being a cheeky bastard. But now, you couldn’t help but marvel at his features as the sun illuminated his face.
He distracted you, so it took you a moment before you realized he was in your bed, in your hotel room, cuddling with you. You must’ve fallen asleep last night, and he must’ve not left. Why did he not leave?
You kind of freaked out a little, and you needed to pee. So when Lando turned onto his back, one arm slipping away from you, you took your opportunity and slipped out of bed.
You grabbed a tshirt and underwear on your way to the bathroom. After you peed, you stood in front of the mirror as you washed your hands. Looking at yourself, you slipped the shirt over your head, and pulled your underwear on.
You decided to do your usual morning routine while you were in here. So you did your skin care, and brushed your teeth before you stopped to look at yourself again.
What were you going to do about Lando? This time, to stop your mind from overthinking it, you decided to just open the bathroom door and walk out.
Opening the door, Lando was facing away from you, still sleeping. So you turned around to close the door carefully.
When you turned back around, a sleepy Lando was looking back at you. You froze in your place, unsure of what to do. He slowly lifted the covers to where you had been previously laying.
“Come back in here” His voice was so gravelly and low, just incredibly sexy.
“Uh- I- um-”
“Come on”
Your body acted for you as you stepped towards the bed, before you slid under the covers. His arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his chest. His head was resting on your shoulder, and he was actually snuggling into you. You didn’t realize how tense you were until he mumbled.
“Relax baby”
So you did. He was so warm and soft, it made you feel so safe and comforted as he was holding you. So you turned over to face him, sliding down so you could bury your face in his chest. You felt a small chuckle escape him, and one of his hands started tracing figures on your back.
You hadn’t noticed you fell asleep again until he softly asked.
“Do you have to be at the track any sooner than two?”
You left your place in his chest and looked up at him, you didn’t really understand what he said as you were still half asleep.
You saw a warm smile spread on Lando’s face. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
You lifted a hand to rub your eyes, “Yeah, but it’s fine”
He stayed quiet, just studying your face.
“But what did you say?” You dropped your hand and stared up at him.
“I just asked if you had to be at the track any sooner than two” You couldn’t place the look he had on his face.
“Oh” “Uh, no” “You?”
“No”
You didn’t really know what to say now. He had such an intense look on his face and you didn’t know what to do.
He leaned his head down to capture your lips in the softest kiss yet. It was a loving kiss, so foreign to come from Lando.
You melted against the kiss, humming against him as you let him lay you down on your back as he hovered above you, lips still attached. He was the one to break the kiss, lifting his head to look down at you.
“You want breakfast?”
“um- yeah” You smiled up at him, and nodded wildly.
He smiled back and lifted himself off to get out of bed.
You were sitting at a table outside of a cafe. The chair opposite you empty. You sat there staring off into space as you chewed on your bottom lip. Thinking about Lando’s sudden change in personality.
You didn’t have time to dwell on it too hard before a coffee was placed in front of you. You looked up to meet Lando’s eyes as he sat down across from you.
“Everything okay?” His eyebrows furrowed, he almost looked concerned.
“Uh- yeah!” “But how did you know this is my favorite coffee?” You pointed down to the cup in front of you.
A smile grew on his face. You could never get sick of seeing that kind smile.
“I pick up on things you know” He seemed so satisfied with himself as he took a sip of his own coffee, leaning back in his chair.
After a good Friday on track in Miami, you walked towards the garage on Saturday, sporting an unusually bright smile. Maybe the reason for it was the work environment?
Everyone in the garage had been in such a better mood this race weekend, you couldn’t put your finger on why. But, even Lando had a smile on his face most of the time. He was so much easier to work with, and started being really kind to the mechanics and engineers, and everyone basically.
The good mood was probably just because the team had been doing so good lately, and Miami was a great track for Red Bull. Yeah, of course it was just that.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw Sophie walking towards you. She looked confused and something akin to anger. It made you slow your speed as your smile dropped, worry setting in.
When she finally caught up with you she whisper-yelled at you. “Have you slept with Lando again?!”
She immediately figured out the answered when you looked down at the ground and mumbled a quiet “oh fuck”.
“Jesus Y/N” she sighed.
“I- uh- shit.” “It just happened one time ok!” Your eyes met her in a pleading look.
She didn’t answer, but relief washed over you when she cracked a smile and chuckled.
“Shit, this bad isn’t it?” She smiled even more at your question.
“No, actually not”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her answer.
“I just asked because I had to do some media work with Lando and Oscar, and Lando has never been that easy to work with. And he was smiling and laughing more than I have ever seen.” “And I know why” She nodded, seeming so secure in her reason.
“Oh that's good!” “But yeah, that's because he’s been getting good results lately and Miami’s going to be great for him no?”
“No” You looked at her even more confused.
“He’s more happy now, than when he got his first win. And the only thing that has changed around him since then, is that you have been sleeping with him.” She looked so smug, and so confident.
You let out a short laugh. “You’re insane Sophie” “You’re suggesting he’s happier because we have been sleeping together?”
“I’m not suggesting. I know”
“Bullshit” You scoffed. “I don’t have time for this Sophie, I have to get to the garage”
“I’ll join you!”
“Fine.” You rolled your eyes.
You walked into the garage with Sophie beside you as she talked about what media work she had for the rest of the day.
The second you walked towards where Lando’s car was parked, Sophie was interrupted.
“Y/N! there you are!” Lando was almost jogging over towards you, a warm smile on his face.
As he stopped in front of you, and looked down at you with such a soft look, making your breath hitch in your throat.
“We need to do the seat check, and you’re the only one who can get it right” He chuckled.
Your eyes flickered over to Sophie and you saw her smirking back at the two of you. Looking back at Lando, he just looked at you, like he was waiting for an answer.
“Oh- uh- Yeah” “Of course” You tried your best to not seem flustered.
Lando’s smile grew just a bit more and he nodded, making his way to get into his car. You looked back at Sophie and she whispered “I am so right” before she winked at you and turned to talk to some of the mechanics. .
Coming back to it, you walked over to the car and leaned over the halo, closer to where Lando was sitting.
“So, you think something needs adjusting?” You turned your head to look him in the eyes.
Your faces so close to each other as he looked back at you. And yeah, you had slept with him two times now, but the atmosphere was so different in a situation like this.
He quickly turned his head to look straight ahead before speaking.
“Yeah, just this bit here” He pointed at what he was talking about, and you nodded before standing up to go retrieve the tool you needed.
Coming back, you leaned back over the halo, and luckily it was in a place that was fairly easy to access while he was still in the car. So when you finished, you turned back to Lando.
“Like that?”
Lando didn’t answer, but as he looked at you, he slowly lifted his hand and tucked some hair behind your ear.
“Perfect” he whispered.
You could feel his breath on your face as you just stared back at him, stunned. And he just kept looking at you with those soft eyes that you were completely lost in.
Your ”staring contest” was interrupted when someone shouted for Lando. Finally being able to move, you stepped back and turned over to your workbench, and tried to shake it off. Your cheeks warm, you probably resembled a tomato.
You tried reminding yourself that he was still a dick he was probably just faking being nice so you would keep sleeping with him or something. Yes. That was definitely it.
After Lando left the garage with the person who was calling him, Jonas walked up to you.
“Is it just me or has Lando been weirdly nice lately?” He leaned towards you as he spoke quietly so no one would hear.
You turned to look at him, eyes wide, your facial expression betraying you. He leaned back and his eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused about your reaction.
You tried your best to brush it off like it was nothing. “Yeah, I just thought it was because he finally got his win, and is getting consistently good results” You forced a smile to try and seem normal, but your mind was running wild about what Sophie had said.
“Yeah sure” “That has to be it” He started smirking before he slowly walked away, still smirking at you. Your mind was panicking.
You walked into the Red Bull factory, bright and early in the morning, the warm spring sun making you mood ten times better.
As you walked past the trophy wall, you saw some people putting in two new trophies. One for first place, and one for second. Lando won in Miami, and Max came second.
You thought back to the podium where you stood underneath it all as you watched Lando get drowned in champagne, huge smile on his face. He looked irresistible up there. Good thing you didn’t get a moment alone with him after the podium. You probably would’ve folded like a lawn chair if you did.
All you had today was a bunch of boring meetings, and office work.
The day went by slowly, and when it was finally time to go home. You packed up everything into your bag. And while you stood there, you felt a presence beside you.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here today sweetheart” You could hear that familiar smirk in his voice. It made you roll your eyes.
You turned around and looked at him. He was standing so close, no doubt on purpose.
“Yes, you did” You crossed your arms over your chest.
“Now, how would I know that?” His smirk somehow grew.
“Why else did you come all the way over here to my desk?” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Hope” He said softly, and the look in his eyes changed.
It took you aback. How he was able to change so quickly from his usual cheeky self, to sweet and kind. You didn’t get to reply before he spoke again.
“You wanna walk out together?”
“Um- Yeah sure” You grabbed your bag and walked beside him through the building.
Walking out of the doors, The two of you walked towards the car park, and stopped in front of Lando’s car. He looked over at you.
“Did you drive here?”
“Yeah” You smiled at him.
“Oh, okay” He sounded almost disappointed, but quickly brushed it away. “See you soon then!” He smiled big at you before getting into his car.
You just managed to blurt out “See you!” before he closed his car door, and drove off.
You stood there confused for a second, before you decided not to think too much about it and just get in your own car and drive home.
You had made yourself a nice dinner, and plopped down in front of the tv to watch your favorite comfort show.
After finishing, you put the dishes in the dishwasher, and your phone vibrated from your pocket. You pulled it out, and when the screen lit up, you saw the name “Lando Norris”.
“hey are you home?”
You felt your eyebrows furrow in confusion. But you still typed out a reply.
“yeah why?”
He responded right away.
“sorry, I’m just really bored and I want to see you”
“Lando…”
“do you just want sex?”
“no!”
“I know it sounds like that haha
but I just want company”
Your heart made the decision for you. Fuck it.
“here’s my address;”
It didn’t take long before you heard a knock on your door, and you opened it for him to come in.
After he stepped inside, you closed the door behind him. And while your back was still turned to him, you felt his hands wrap themselves around your torso, holding you tight against him. And his forehead rested on your shoulder. It made you stop in your tracks, confused.
“A-Are you okay?” you asked softly.
“Yeah” “I am now” His voice muffled because of your sweater.
You didn’t really know what to do, so you stayed still.
Eventually he said something.
“You smell good” He mumbled as he buried his head further into your shoulder.
“Oh- um- thanks” You felt your face heat up. Strange how a compliment like that had such an effect on you.
He just kept holding you, and you had been standing like this for a good few minutes now.
“You wanna go sit down on the couch?”
“Fine” He hesitated, but slowly pulled back until you could step aside and make a move towards the couch.
Sitting down, you reached forward to pick the remote off the table while you felt Lando sit down beside you. You pressed play on what you had been watching earlier, and turned over to look at Lando with a questioning look.
He looked back at you with an innocent look, like he was kind of intimidated by your stare.
"So.. Why did you really want to come?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“I honestly just wanted to spend time with you” He breathed out.
“Weirdo” You whispered while you leant back into the couch. You heard Lando let out a chuckle.
You shifted your eyes to the tv, and tried to pay attention to it. But from the corner of your eye, you could see Lando shuffling closer to you, until your shoulders, and thighs were touching.
You turned your head to look up at him. He was already looking down at you with a look in his eyes that made you feel warm and fuzzy. That man could make you feel so many emotions just from his eyes alone.
Despite wanting to drown in his eyes, you turned your head away, and looked back at the tv.
Lando was sitting there, still looking at your face studying the tv. He feared he might have pushed it too far, coming here, sitting so close. But the feeling of you leaning into his body silenced his mind quickly, and he made himself a little more comfortable as he relaxed against you.
You had been sitting in silence for what felt like 15 minutes, until you decided to say something.
“Sorry if this is really boring” “You want to do something else?” You looked over at him through the corner of your eye.
“No I’m not bored” “But is there something you had in mind?” He looked back at you.
You had just the thing. You stood up and walked over to where your Nintendo switch was, in the stand by the tv. You hooked everything up and grabbed the controls, walked back over and handed one to Lando.
“Mario Kart”
Lando’s smirk grew, “Oh baby, you know I’m going to win.” His eyes giving you a sympathetic look.
“Oh Lando..” “You just wait and see pretty boy” You gave him that same sympathetic look, and your hand reached up to softly hold the side of his face.
Lando could feel his heart beat faster. The way you looked at him and held his face. And when you called him “pretty boy” he was done for. He really considered letting you win just by the sheer confidence radiating from you. But when you booted up the game and started choosing the character, his usual competitive personality came back, and he would do everything he could to beat you.
You were on the last track, and the two of you had been so even, so whoever won this track, won the game. Lando was sweating, he would say he was surprised that you were this good, but he honestly wasn’t.
You were in first place, Lando hot on your tail. And you had just entered the last round, and Lando could see his victory slipping away. He looked over at you and saw how focused you were, your tongue sticking out of your mouth in concentration.
He saw his perfect opportunity to strike. So he bumped his knee against yours.
“Hey!” “No fair!” You kept your eyes on the screen as you tried to keep your focus.
Lando then decided to do the worst, and threw away everything he worked so hard for when one of his hands left the controller and stretched out to grab onto your waist. Making your whole body jolt with the contact.
And soon after, he started tickling you. You tried your best to make it to the finish line, you really did. But you had no control over how your body reacted to the insistent tickling.
So the controller flew from your hands, as you tried to stop his arms from moving, to no use. He kept going, now, somehow hovering above you.
Finally, he gave you a moment to breathe, his hands still holding on to your sides, as he just looked down at you trying to catch your breath.
You closed your eyes, focusing on your breath. You felt Lando bury his head in the crook of your neck, and his arms circled your waist so he was holding around you, making you arch your body up against him. He put his whole body weight on yours as he laid down on top of you. And you felt him slowly breathing in and out against your neck.
You didn’t know what to say or do, so you just let him be. You just closed your eyes and figured you might as well enjoy the comfort, because it was really really comfortable. You lifted your arms and carefully wrapped them around him, so they were resting on his strong back.
When Lando felt your arms wrap around him and rest on his back, he automatically buried his head just a bit more, and tightened his grip around you, so you were even closer than before, if that was even possible.
You could hear the quiet background music still coming from the unfinished game. And you could both hear and feel that Lando’s breath was slowing down, and his body relaxing against you.
Lando was almost falling asleep. He tried to fight it, but you were just so comfortable. And he didn’t want to admit it, but just the fact that he was holding around you, and you him, was making him feel safe and sound. Lando was on the verge of snoring, and you were noticing.
“Lando” “Are you falling asleep?” You softly whispered, a question you already knew the answer to.
“No” you felt him mumble against your skin. The sound in his voice making it clear that he was lying.
Lando felt your body shake as you let out a short giggle.
“Was it that obvious?” You felt him smile against your skin.
“You were almost snoring” “So, yes.” You kept giggling.
Lando let out a short chuckle before he lifted his head so he looked down at you.
“Well, It’s your fault that you’re so comfortable” He smiled. Such a sweet smile you loved that you were seeing more of.
Your smile mimicked his as you looked up at him. Lando’s eyes quickly darted across your face, looking at all of your features, committing them to his memory. You looked angelic. Your smile warming up his heart that had grown a bit too cold in recent years. He was already feeling the effects of your warmth. His smile being more common than it used to be. And portraying a kindness to try and match yours. If anyone knew how he felt, they would say he was falling in Love.
Your smile faded, but a soft look still remained on your face. The way that Lando was looking at you, it was like you were completely naked and vulnerable in front of him. But the emotion behind his eyes showed only comfort and admiration. So it wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite.
In that moment, you hoped he would never stop looking at you like that. And to Lando, he would never even want to stop looking at you at all.
Without either of you noticing, your faces had gotten so close, to the point where your lips were just barely touching. Your hands came up to cradle both sides of his face, and the comfort of the feeling, made Lando capture your lips in a soft kiss.
He was in control, and he was kissing you oh so slowly and carefully. Lando had turned so soft and kind, like he cared for you, deeply. He kissed you like you were fragile, Which you both knew from experience that you weren’t. You couldn’t take it anymore.
One of your hands traveled up to tug at his hair, and the other wrapped around his bicep that was beside your head, nails digging into the skin, hoping it could signal him into doing more.
Either Lando didn’t pick up on your signs, or he did it on purpose. But that man did nothing to heat up the kiss. If anything, he almost kissed you slower.
So you decided to wrap your legs around his waist, your core meeting the bulge in his pants. Unfortunately, he was only half hard, but that was something you intended on changing in a matter of seconds.
You started moving your hips slowly, up and down against his length, it solicited a small hum from his throat. But that was all it did. Somehow Lando kept his composure.
But you could feel his dick twitching in his pants. The friction you received from it was making you quietly moan into his mouth. You were going to break him. Make him snap.
You disconnected your legs from him, and you almost heard him whine at the loss of contact. Both of your hands landed on his chest, and you gave a little push, signaling him. He sat up on his knees, and looked down at you, his eyes hooded.
You sat up on your knees in front of him and gave him another small shove in the chest. “Lay down.” You breathed out.
He did what you said, and layed down on his back, looking up at you with anticipation. You lifted yourself so you could sit back down over his thighs, straddling him.
You sat far enough back that his now very obvious bulge was right in front of your core.
You looked back up to find Lando’s eyes and the darkened, familiar look you saw in them, made a shiver run down your spine.
As you kept eye contact, you brushed your fingertips over his clothed dick. It made his eyes flutter close, and he tilted his head all the way back, his neck more exposed.
You flattened your palm over the bulge, and moved your hands up and down along the length, in a slow and soft pace. You could see the veins on Lando’s neck getting more visible, as he was straining himself, trying to chase the movement of your hand with his hips.
His breathing was ragged, and his eyes squeezed shut. And small, choked whimpers came from him. He looked so pretty.
You decided to give him what he wanted. And when Lando felt your hand disappear, his eyes shot open to beg you for more. But when his eyes landed on you, you had already opened the button on his pants, and dragged the zipper down.
Lando didn’t have a moment to register it, before your hand was wrapped around his length. A guttural moan came out of him, eyes squeezing shut again.
While your hand was starting to slowly move up and down, with the other, you wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock. Moving further and further down to hold on to his balls.
You could tell you were doing a good job, just by the amount of sounds coming from Lando. Both his hands had formed fists, his knuckles white as he was doing everything in his power to not snap.
You swiped your thumb across the tip, collecting the precum that had seeped out. His breath shuddered, and he opened his eyes to look at you with a pleading look.
It almost made you do exactly what he wanted, almost. But instead, you stopped your movements, and decided to torture him a little.
So you made your way to stand up and walk off. But the second your feet were on the ground, and your back turned to him. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you back down.
You were both sitting on your knees, your back against his chest, and you could feel him poking against your backside. You felt heat flow to your core just at the thought of what he was going to do now.
Lando grabbed on to the hem of your shirt, and tore it off. His hands immediately finding your bra, unclasping it, and throwing it towards where your shirt went.
His hands forcefully grabbed your breasts and he ground his hips into your ass, moaning into your ear.
You could do nothing but wait for his next move. One of his hands slowly traced along your stomach, making its way down to the hem of your pants, while his other hand was wrapped around your torso, holding you tight against him.
His hand found the button on your pants, and unbuttoned it with one hand, and slowly slid down the zipper.
His chin was resting on your shoulder, as he looked down to see his hand sliding into your panties.
You threw your head back at the feeling, resting it on his shoulder. One of his fingers found your hole, and collected the wetness there.
“Oh, so wet” He cooed in your ear.
His finger found your clit as he started circling it slowly. Your mouth had opened, as you let all of your sounds spill out.
Soon he added more pressure, and his touch was more focused. If he kept it up, it wouldn’t be long before you came.
You tilted your head so your mouth was close to his ear, and you whimpered. “fuck Lando” “Please keep going” You begged.
Quickly, without warning, he pulled his hand out. You whined in complaint.
“Not so fun now, is it?” He spoke directly in your ear.
You didn’t even have time to reply before he was pulling your pants down to your knees, and instructing you to lift them, so he could take them all the way off.
You did what he said, leaning your upper body forward on the couch, ass up towards him.
After he tore yours off, you turned your head over your shoulder, to see him hurrying to take his own off.
His hand landed on your back, pushing your upper body further into the couch, your face squished in the cushions.
Both of his hands slid down to your ass, and grabbed it firmly, enjoying the sight. And shoved you even more, so he could see more of you.
You couldn’t see what he was doing, but you felt one of his hands slide further towards your core. And then you felt how close he was when he spoke.
“God, you’re beautiful” He was in awe, just looking at you.
But soon, his finger found your wet hole, and slowly slid inside. You sighed into the couch cushion, and moved your hips back onto his finger, taking in as much as you could.
He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside you. He quickly removed his finger, and you were about to complain. But before you could get a word out, his hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled you back towards him. His dick slid inside so well, filling you up just like you wanted. The feeling almost making you scream.
He let out a loud groan, finally getting the feeling of you being wrapped around him again. He had a tight grip on your hips as he pulled you back to meet his hips everytime he shoved himself inside you.
His thrusts were getting rough and hard, and you were loving every second of it. Him in complete control, and you babbling incoherent sounds into the cushions.
You felt the heat build up inside you, and you were getting close. Lando kept his pace up and you could feel his balls slapping against you, the sound of your skin slapping together and both of you moaning was unholy.
You felt Lando lean forward, arm wrapping around your waist, and the other around your chest, so his palm was flattened right against your beating heart. You didn’t even have time to think about what he was doing, the new angle making you see stars.
Lando pulled your body up as he sat back on his knees. your back against his chest. Just like you were earlier.
He held you tight against him, as he now fucked up into you. You didn’t think the angle of him inside you could get any better, but oh, how wrong you were.
You heard Lando swearing under his breath, and you leaned your head back against his shoulder, a moaning mess, and so close. “Lando..” “I’m clo-”
You didn’t get to finish your words before you felt the hand that was wrapped around your waist, slide down to circle his middle finger around your clit. You almost screamed out, the pleasure almost being too much.
And when you felt his other hand wrap around your throat and squeeze, you were done for. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as it all came crashing down.
Your thighs were shaking, and your walls were constricting around him, milking him for all he was worth, which sent him over the edge.
He let out a soft whimper as he came, the sound alone almost making you cum for a second time.
His arms wrapped tightly around your middle, almost hugging you as his forehead rested against your shoulder.
He took some deep breaths, breathing in your scent, and hummed against you. You felt him growing soft inside you, and some of your fluids started running down your thighs.
You felt Lando softly lift your hips so he could slide out of you, the emptiness making you whine. He chuckled before he kissed your shoulder and stood up. You collapsed forward on the couch, too tired so stay sitting on your knees.
You heard Lando walk away towards the bathroom, and soon after, you heard the shower start. You furrowed your brows, a bit confused. Kind of a dick move to just hop in the shower and leave you collapsed on the couch.
You didn’t even hear Lando walk back out until you felt his fingers softly gracing your arm as he asked you; “You think you can stand up?”
You turned your head and looked up at him, you saw a glint in his eyes when he looked at you, no doubt caused by how absolutely fucked out of your mind you looked.
You softly nodded against the soft pillows and muttered out a “Maybe” as you lifted yourself up and tried to stand up. Lando’s hand held onto your bicep just in case you needed any help. And he looked like he was ready to catch you if your knees even buckled.
Which they did, and Lando immediately wrapped his free arm around your waist, holding you up with such a force that your toes were the only thing touching the ground.
After he just fucked you like that, he was so soft and caring. You really liked this side of him, and silently wished you could see more of it.
Lando’s eyes searched yours with a hint of worry. But they softened when you reassured him you were fine. But he kept an arm wrapped around you as he walked the two of you towards your bathroom, where the shower had been heating up.
He helped you step inside, and followed after you. And the two of you enjoyed a nice warm shower together, him holding around you almost the entire time, constantly worried your legs would give out.
You were softly awakening, feeling your hair being brushed behind your ear, and soft fingers tracing your face. You slowly opened your eyes to find his eyes looking back at you.
Lando had a lovesick smile on his face. “You look so beautiful in the morning” His voice was deep and raspy.
You felt yourself blush and you lifted the covers to hide your face.
Lando sat upright and lifted one of his hands to try and tug the cover away, “No, don’t hide” “I want to see you”
You peeked your eyes over the covers, seeing nothing but truth behind Lando’s eyes. You lowered the covers.
“Thank you baby” His smile grew, and you saw his eyes searching your face, like he was trying to count the freckles on your skin. It gave you a moment to do the same, now really noticing the moles beside his nose, and the ones scattered across his cheeks.
You noticed his face coming closer to yours, and when you met his eyes you saw how he was looking at your lips. You sat up and met him halfway, reaching up to hold his face, dragging him back down. He threw out an arm to hold himself above you, leaning more into the kiss.
Lando was the one to pull back, and looked at you with a glint in his eye, like he knew something you didn’t.
Before you had time to think about your words, your mouth opened.
“Why are you so nice now?” You saw his mouth frown slightly, the sight making you wince. You wanted to take it back.
You opened your mouth again to try and fix your mistake, but Lando was quicker.
“I know..” “I have been thinking about it myself” He sighed and laid down beside you, and quickly glanced at you before he looked anywhere but you.
You saw that he was struggling, regret seeping into your veins. “I’m sorry Lando, I didn’t mean it” “You don’t have to say anything” “I’m so sorry” You carefully looked at him, wanting nothing more than to smack yourself for talking before thinking.
“No, no” “I’m just trying to collect my thoughts. I’m not that great with words” He let out an awkward chuckle.
His eyes finally met yours again, and you could see the vulnerability behind Lando’s eyes. He smiled softly before speaking again.
“My last few seasons at McLaren were not good. The car was not working for me, and I wasn’t doing good mentally, so I really started to spiral. I made the mistake of not talking about it, and that only made it worse.” “It made me angry and resentful. Which made me lose the people close to me.” “I got so used to being like that, thinking it was the best solution. And then I made the move to Red Bull, it made it better in the sense that the car was better, I was less miserable. But It still didn’t change my attitude and anger. Thinking that if I went back to being the old me, it would hurt me.”
“So when we slept together the first time, it made me feel so confident.” He smiled sheepishly at you.
He continued. “And when we slept together that second time, it made me feel unstoppable. And that morning, I was so comfortable around you that I didn’t even think about how I was acting. It was such a nice morning. The nicest one I’ve ever had.” You felt yourself blush.
“And after that day, it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I found happiness in everything, something I haven’t felt in a long time. It never even crossed my mind about my change in attitude, until people asked me about it.” “And when I thought about it, I just thought about you.” His eyes no longer met yours, a shyness about Lando that you had never seen.
“When I’m with you, I feel like myself again”
Lando couldn’t bear to look at you. A realization hit him about what he just told you. He just started talking about his feelings, and he had told you everything, something he didn’t think he would ever do.
Lando felt your soft hand on the side of his face, and he felt you now laying on top of him, hugging him. You buried your face in his neck. You were speechless. Lando had said he wasn’t good with words, but that was a complete lie.
He had confessed something to you that no one ever had. No one had ever told you that you were the reason they could feel like themselves. You didn’t really know how to feel about that.
Lando started to feel something wet hit the sides of his neck. His eyes shot open in realization. “Are you crying?” He asked you with so much concern in his voice.
Oh shit, you got caught. You tried to carefully keep your breathing steady as you slowly shook your head.
“Y/N, look at me please” He almost whispered.
You slowly lifted your head to look at him, and when your eyes met his, you could see the worry in them.
His hands cradled the sides of your face, and a thumb flew out to swipe away a falling tear.
“Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong” More worry found its way in Lando’s eyes.
“No” You softly shook your head as you whispered.
You lifted a hand to hold on to one of his. “No one has ever said something like that to me before” You let out a small breath before you continued.
“Thank you Lando” You sighed, a soft smile on your face.
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you thanking me?”
Your smile grew. “You just bared your soul to me, Lando.” “And you told me that I make you feel like yourself again.”
“Yeah, so if anything, I should thank you, for listening to me” His thumb swiped across your cheek again.
“Lando. You shouldn’t have to thank me for listening to you.” “I would never want to stop listening to you”
“Please never leave me” He said it like he was actually begging you. His eyebrows furrowed.
“I wouldn’t even dream about it” You leaned in to give him a soft kiss.
And when you pulled back to look at him. You started to recognize the look in his eyes, it was like he was looking at the world. The universe. And he found that in your eyes.
Who's crying? not me! (yes I am.)
Taglist;
@laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @chonkybonky
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4#lando norris x you#mclaren f1#formula one
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Hazbin Hotel—Lucifer x Reader where he’s a love struck fool for reader? May or may not be inspired by that little imagine you posted not too long ago \(//∇//)\
uhhh this kinda got away from me. enjoy!!
You’d have to be a fool not to notice how the King of Hell acts around you, even Angel and Husk told you that. But you’re not blinded to situation, you know exactly what’s going on. You rest your elbow on the bar next to Angel as Charlie gathers the hotel residents and staff, a job not unlike herding cats. Everyone trickles in slowly, waiting for the next odd trust bond activity Charlie has come up with now. Last week was heartfelt letter writing, and the three of you at the bar had not taken it seriously. You handed Husk a comedic inner monologue about how much you needed to pee, Husk handed Angel a surprisingly detailed made up story about a talking whisky bottle, and Angel handed you a list of what roles he’d cast the entire hotel in a porno.
“What do you think they’ll have us do this time?” Husk mumbles to you, topping off your drink.
“Honestly, not a fan of the way Princess is smiling right now,” you answer.
Charlie waves everyone over, and Vaggie smiles uncomfortably, ready for everyone to start.
“Okay Good Afternoon,” Charlie starts, practically bouncing, “Today we’re going to try to form new bonds!”
Immediately, she’s met with groaning and mumbling, but thats never stopped her and it won’t today either.
“So what better way to do that then having a buddy for the next twenty four hours!” She shouts, and Vaggie’s face immediately makes sense.
“I’ve separated everyone from their regular group so they can build these bonds and be open!”
“…got something you could open…” you hear Angel mumble under his breath.
Charlie gives her dad a thumbs up.
“The first pairing is… my dad and Y/n!”
The Morningstar family sucks at being subtle or lying.
“So what did you have planned for the day?” Lucifer asks while sitting beside you, his voice short and clipped, his entire demeanor like he’s on high alert. It’s cute, really.
“Ah don’t worry about it,” you shrug, “What does the areat King of Hell do with his day?”
Lucifer rubs his neck, fidgeting under your question.
“It’s not… Its not actually all that interesting,” he admits, “You’ve probably got something cooler going on.”
There’s something he’s avoiding besides your gaze, but you don’t press the issue.
You look across the lobby to Angel, who pauses his conversation with Vaggie to mouth something that looked like the word “fart” to you, and then wink.
Your art gallery. Right.
“Have you ever been to Pentagram City’s biggest art gallery?” you ask him.
Lucifer is a gentleman. You understand how he stole the first man’s first two wives from him. Sure, he’s stumbling and stuttering and a nervous wreck, but he’s holding doors open for you and asking about your thoughts and feelings about the pieces on display, he’s accidentally on purpose almost held your hand three times now. Next time he does it, you’re just going to grab his damn hand.
You stare at the sculpture in front of you, noting that you should have someone move this to a different room. In fact, there’s a few things you’ve noticed while showing Lucifer the art that you should have moved around. Maybe you’ve been neglecting the gallery a bit more than you thought now that you live at the hotel.
“Hey, Can I ask you about these?” Lucifer’s voice booms from the next room over. Sighing, you type a quick note into your V-Phone and turn.
Oh shit.
Lucifer found THAT room.
You cross the threshold into the room you never go into, the room with your own work. Honestly, it’s not even curated the way the other rooms and floors are. This is where you put anything that you think can leave your studio. He’s in front of one of your biggest paintings, and one of your newest. It’s an abstract piece about your feelings about redemption, about your past sins, about adjusting to the hotel. Which it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but it made sense in the moment and you’re proud of it.
He turns and smiles before looking back at the painting.
“Is the uh, is the artist willing to sell this piece?” he asks, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.
Now it’s your turn to get nervous. You’ve never actually sold any of your own pieces before.
“I uh- I’m not gonna sell it to you,” you tell him, “You can have it.”
It would be weird to take money from Lucifer, even if he is offering. You like him a decent amount and a transaction between the two of you would make it weird. It would feel like you owe him, even though your art would technically satisfy that. If he was one of the Vees or someone you dislike, you would have immediately taken money.
“But the artist-“
“Me,” you clarify, and you finally remember you don’t tag your own art. Lucifer’s jaw drops at your admission.
“I’d really like to support your work, it’s magnificent,” Lucifer insists, and you feel your cheeks burning. He turns to gesture to another piece, and his knuckles brush your own.
Fuck it. You told yourself you’d do it. You grab Lucifer’s hand in your own, a bold move.
“Just think about it as a gift,” you tell him, “A thank you for the lovely day we’ve had.”
You inwardly cringe, knowing that when you recount today at the lobby bar your drinking buddies are going to tear you a new one for that corny line. But it fits for Lucifer; he’s bringing out a side of you that you really haven’t seen in a while.
“Thank you uh, gorgeous,” he tacks on the pet name like even he isn’t sure about it, and with his hand still in yours, attempts to lean against a sculpture, stumbling as he misses it and bringing you along with him. He tugs you by the arm, jerking you closer to him. He’s majorly out of practice.
“I have a studio upstairs if you want to see more?” you offer, not really sure if you thought that through.
“More art? Absolutely!” He recovers quickly, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.
You smile as you pull him towards the hallway, butterflies in your stomach as it dawns on you that he’s going to be the only person besides you to see the studio.
You and Lucifer end up staying there until Charlie calls him the next morning.
You notice paint on his chin after you get back to the hotel.
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Almost Instinctual
Alastor x pregnant!reader
‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️
Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.
Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2
(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)
(8 weeks/2 months)
You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.
Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.
Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.
Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.
And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.
Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.
(12 weeks/3 months)
You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.
Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.
“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.
You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.
Making people uncomfortable.
Cocaine.
And candy crush.
Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.
Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.
Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.
Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.
He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.
Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.
(Unless he was threatening someone.)
(17 weeks/3.2 months)
You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.
Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.
Alastor had been…odd.
He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.
Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.
Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)
You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.
You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.
Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.
Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.
Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.
(20 weeks/4 months)
First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..
You two had grown a bit closer.
Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.
The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it
You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.
He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.
(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)
(25 weeks/5 months)
If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.
You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.
May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.
She asked to be the godmother.
Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.
Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.
(7 months)
Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.
He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)
He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.
Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.
(8 months)
Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.
After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.
He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!
Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…
(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)
#hazbin alastor#hazbin art#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#pregnant reader#secret pregnancy#slow burn#soft alastor#deer man
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i was reading your fics, and was reading one where daemon is going up against cregan a little bit. i got this idea, cregan giving the reader a direwolf puppy as a gift. daemon makes a snide comment about it and cregan just turns to him, telling him that your enjoying your new pet, and who knows, maybe one day cregan will give you puppies.
daemon seethes as cregan walks away, acting as if he didn't just imply he was gonna breed you.
Puppy Love
Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Cregan Stark x Reader
Summary: Ever since you came of age, you became the jewel of the court and your father turned down proposal after proposal, knowing if the man didn't want your massive dowry, they wanted to claim and corrupt your beauty and kind nature. And the only reason why your father hasn't chewed up the all too friendly dragon prince, was because he was doing most of his job for him. And anyway, your father knew you were too kind to think his attentions to you were anything more than friendly.
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: Fem!reader, 'too kind' reader, jealous!daemon, smitten!cregan, fluff, typos, etc.
A/N: first of all, i have written quite a few fics were I've added cregan as uh an opponent for daemon so HAHHAH im not sure which one you mean, though I have an inkling it's Wish I Was Her (this is not a p2 of this btw) second of all, /: cregan dumb for giving away a direwolf to some rando dafaq. third of all, i really want do a take on a 'traditionally feminine reader' since i normally dont do that lol so im tryna make reader fit the period more, without making her a damsel in distress. wish me luck
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony
You straighten the brown paper in one hand while you fiddle with the wax seal that was on it moments ago. You snort through your nostrils, beaming at the ink on the the letter, eager to both reach the end of the page, and not wanting the words to end at all.
Daemon, who had been walking with purpose, forgets where he was going along the way when he spots you. You, the giggling lady, sat comfortably on the stone blocks that separated the garden and the hall.
The prince's stoic demeanor melts into an expression similar to yours when you smile at what you were reading. What were you reading? A letter? A letter from-
Quickly, the realization of what kind of letters a lady such as yourself would be receiving that would cause you to giggle like that makes his expression splat into annoyance.
With twice as much purpose, he struts over to you and calls out your name. You immediately avert your gaze, smile widening at the sight of him.
Good.
"My prince," you speak, bowing your head just as Daemon reaches you.
Daemon raises his brows and drops his lips, eyeing the paper in your hand, "a good read?"
You release a chuckle at the expression he pulls, "a very good read. I say Alaric is as good with the quill as he," you point to the paper, "harks to me how good he is with the blade."
He grunts, "Alaric." Where has he heard that tatty name before?
You chuckle as you watch Daemon stiffen. He places his hands behind him, slowly walking to the other side of the block you were sat on, sitting there across you, "which moronic suitor is he again?"
You drop your letter on your lap, tilting your head at the fuming prince, who now had his arms crossed. "Alaric," you start with a chuckle, "is my darling cousin, Anna's, son."
Ahh, Daemon blinks, that's why his name is familiar.
You snort, "he has merely just turned ten and one, your grace."
He clears his throat.
"Do you not recall rejecting my offer to attend the boy's nameday?" you speak through an amused grin.
"I've never cared for namedays," he trails off, crossing his arms.
You laugh. He turns to you because of it. How could he not when your laugh was like that? Your being beams in amusement, glowing like a star. It makes the prince emit a soft chuckle.
"If I didn't know any better," you say in between catching your breath, "I'd you were jealous of a child, my prince."
You catch the small smile on Daemon's face as he pretends to be offended, "and I'd say you've been reading too much."
Very suddenly, you gasp and point at him, making him pull his head back and his expression drop. His concern drops when you say, "is that a blush I see? Ooh!"
Daemon's arms loosen at your words. As if eager to make your words true, he begins to feel his body burn. Damn body.
You gasp the second time before throwing your head back in laughter, "I do say," you sigh, "scarlet suits you well."
Daemon rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he stands from his spot.
"Well, I mean, it is one of the colors of your house."
"Yes," he drops his hands to the side and walks over to you, "and I should well ought to make it your own."
And though Daemon smirks when he says this, your brows furrow at the thought. His vanilla baby.
"It would be pointless to try and convince my father to change anything about our house."
He sighs as you refold your paper, trapping a waxen seal in its center, and move to stand next to him, "in our actual house, I had to argue with him to change our drapes."
"No," Daemon says in shock, as if he actually cared.
"Yes!" you shake your head, "it was terrible! I had to remind him that I was now the woman of the house."
"Oh, that does sound terrible," Daemon huffs, eyes widening. He watches you as you believe in his empathy. He watches as you smile at his disingenuous words. Two beasts rip at him from within.
Normally, naïveté and slow-wittedness were traits that repelled him, especially in its womanly form, as it was drawn from the sheltered nature ladies like yourself were bred into. The dragon in him found this dull and all too conforming. He liked the burn from the whores, who would snarl if you took more than what you paid for.
Yet this personal brand of innocent on you was dizzying to him. One beast wanted to protect the purity within you, while the other wanted to taint it until all remained was him.
"And yes-" you take a moment to continue, "those were my mother's beloved drapes but... they had not been changed since her passing."
Daemon presses his lips together when you turn to the ground with a solemn expression. He does not get a moment to share the semblance of comfort in which he was capable of, because you quickly smile at him the way you always do and comfort yourself, "it is good to remember those who have passed, but they would not want for us to mourn them too long."
For once, he responds with honesty, "they would not, no."
The moment you smile at his words, your attention is taken from the prince.
You are called by a servant, who tells you there is a man waiting for you in the main hall. You courteously thank the servant and turn to Daemon, "thank you for ke-"
"I will escort you to your visitor," Daemon smiles, though not a real one.
You return a genuine one nevertheless, "I am grateful, but I do not wish to bother you, nor take up more of the time you already so graciously offered me."
Daemon takes your hand and pulls you near him with little regard, "you dare dictate what I do and do not with my time?"
You press your lips as you body collides with him.
"As though you were my wife?"
You clench your jaw, unintending to overstep, "my prince, I did not mean for it-"
"Yes, well," he cuts you off, "let us meet this moron who wishes to meet you."
"You know," you smile, "it may well not be a suitor."
Daemon chuckles, "I'm surprised you even caught onto that."
"Well, how could I not?" you chuckle, "when you were just jealous a child!"
He loses his smug expression. He scoffs into a chuckle as you laugh at him. "Oh very good," Daemon rolls his eyes and slowly claps his hand, "I'll give you credit. I did not expect that."
But what he very much did expect was that your audience was sought by a suitor; one large, slobbering dog of a suitor.
Very truly, Daemon's grumbling was merited, for why were you so enamored by the wolf-man and this overgrown rat-pup he bought with him?
He scoffs as you coo at the furry creature for the hundredth time, and for what? For doing absolutely nothing but expose its incompetence to walk in a fucking straight line?
And what's more, for every time the degenerate baby wolf toppled over, you tugged at its master's arm and pointed, leaning into him as you laughed and expressed jovial sentiments over the creature.
The prince rolls his eyes from the armchair he was sat on.
What was so impressive about a dog? There were dozens of strays outside the walls. He could get you twenty right now. A dragon egg should have elicited such a response from you, not this.
"Oh, dear Cregan-"
Gods, dear Cregan, she says.
"-your pup is a ray of sunshine on this chilly day," you speak.
Daemon watches you smile angelically at the large man with muddy dark hair and wiry curls. He watches as the cretin bares his teeth at you like a wolf does its prey, and you mistake it for genuinely, as always.
"If you are cold, my lady," Cregan says, removing the brown pelt on his shoulders, "then allow me to warm you."
Daemon straightens where he was slouched.
You recoil at Cregan's generosity, raising your hands as you shake them, "oh, my lord, I could not possibly accept the clothes on your back."
You watch as Cregan's rosy cheeks pull up with his smile, "then would you prefer I give you one your own?"
Cregan put on his fur again. You open your mouth to speak, but it is Daemon's voice that sounds, "she would rather you fuck off back to the North, dog."
You still at Daemon's words, promptly turning to him with a hardened expression of disbelief, "my prince-"
"And you best take your defective animal with you," he adds, grimacing at the wolf-pup chewing at a ball of wound fabric.
"Prince Daemon," you call tersely.
Daemon turns to you, expression unable to melt with the presence of that oaf on your side.
"Please do not speak for me as though your sentiments and mine own are one and the same," you calmly say.
Daemon scoffs. Cregan chuckles.
You turn to Cregan with a guilty expression, "I apologize on the behalf of ill-contrived words against you, Lord Cregan."
"No, you don't," Daemon quips as he stands, "don't fucking-"
"I appreciate your sentiment, my lady," Cregan ignores the whimpers of the lizard prince, "though you needn't worry yourself, for I am not wounded by words from the likes of him."
"The likes of me?" Daemon sneers as he storms over.
You turn to Daemon, suddenly at your side. Your eyes widen at the fury on his features. You hands instinctively come to his arm when he appears as though he is about to lunge at Cregan.
Cregan watches you do this, watches you calm the hot blooded fiend. Part of him burns in a shade green at your shared familiarity, but he is more amused by the fact you turn to him with a concerned look, nonverbally expressing your concerns that you, in fact, to not want him to pound your prince if he attempts anything. And so he laughs.
Cregan laughs and takes a step back, allowing you to step between them and push Daemon away in return.
Daemon's ire is fueled further, "what, you halfbreed?!"
You grunt as you turn back to Cregan, relieved he was smiling and not partaking in the hotheadedness the other man was.
"Did you fuck your wolf yourself to offer the pup to her?"
You recoil at the grotesque notion. You cannot stop yourself from calling out the prince's name in anger and bewilderment, "Daemon!"
Cregan laughs. It draws your attention. You sigh, "Cregan, I beg your par-"
"No!" Daemon barks, peering down at you, "he's come here on the intent of you bearing his pups, girl, and you'd so readily drop on your knees for him?!"
"He's brought one pup, Daemon!" you quip pulling away from him as you shake your head, "and I have no intentions of keeping the little wolf," you turn to Cregan, "for I have no such capabilities nor capacities to care for one!"
Daemon grinds his teeth. You heave.
Good enough.
The prince finds slight catharsis in your words. His anger does not fade however, because Cregan's grin is as wide as ever.
"Actually," Cregan raises his hands casually, "I have spoken to your father about the pup and he said he would accept it, for I am also giving you one of my servants as an aid."
The two men watch as you perk at the idea.
"Oh!," you gasp in disbelief, "so..." you break into a wide smile, "I can keep the wolf?!"
Cregan laughs as he nods, "and even better, you can name it."
Daemon is appalled by your next actions.
You run and throw yourself onto Cregan, sealing him into a hug for a moment before pulling back in realization your actions were most indecent.
Cregan however prevents you from pulling away too far, hands coming to your waist as he smiles down at you. He speaks with a lopsided grin, "I have been meaning to bring you the pup ever since we spoke about my pregnant wolf when you visited me in the North."
When you what?
"Will your dear Luna not mourn the loss of her puppy?"
LUNA?
Cregan chuckles, pulling his hands away from you, not because he wanted to, but because, between the two of them, he was currently the more amicable in your eyes, and he was not about to ruin that, "I assure you, she will fair fine, as she is preoccupied with three more at home."
You frown, stepping back from Cregan to turn to the pup, not at all seeing the twitching face of your prince, "still... I must not let him be forgotten by her mother and likewise."
Cregan smiles at the sentiment, "you have a kind heart, my lady," he takes your hand, "I would be glad to bring my wolves to your home whenever you want."
You are horrified by the notion, "oh please, it would be much better if I came to you."
Cregan nods, lips in a smirk, "I shall await then."
You seemed to be caught off-guard by the fact you unwittingly just made plans with the Stark.
And you had meant to explain you could not simply agree to his offer, but you were distracted by the string of High Valyrian being spewed into the air, paired by the loud sound of the prince marching out of the room.
#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen x reader#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon fanfic#daemon fanfic#daemon targaryen#house of the dragon#cregan x reader#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#cregan fanfic#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark fluff
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