#no bc watching this scene to make these gifs fucked me up
Text
THE BEST OF THE NORMANDY SUMMIT
Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Primarch Adrien Victus, Dalatrass Linron, and Urdnot Wrex
With: Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor
Commander, you need to keep Cerberus at bay- I can't overstate what a victory a treaty between the Turians and the Krogan would be for the Alliance. We need all the help we can get...
Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)
#mira makes gifs ✨#sophie shepard#urdnot wrex#samantha traynor#mass effect#mass effect 3#me3#mass effect legendary edition#dailygaming#finally got around to gif'ing the sur'kesh footage and i ended up splitting it in half bc the summit just had too many good wrex moments#by best of: the normandy summit i really just mean best of: wrex bc this is literally just every wrex moment from the summit LMAO#i was gonna stuff this in with the priority sur'kesh set but literally when i had like 10 gifs of just the summit i was like#sur'kesh is getting the mars split bc wrex has too many good moments to just start cutting half of them out tbh#also victus in his fancy primarch robes with THAT VOICE??? i'm not down bad for most turians but DAMN victus#maybe we talk about how fucking real he was for hearing wrex say that the krogan were the ones who spilled their blood to stop the rachni#and immediately looked at the dalatrass and said that wrex was fucking right#and then said that the dalatrass was helping wrex or she'd never see another friendly turian again?? like he's a fucking ICON for that tbh#and soph in the dress blues????? HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT (mass effect women in uniforms and armor 😍)#her angy face coming back at the dalatrass to defend wrex is everything to me#and wrex's expressions during the summit are so fucking good#there's so much raw emotion on his face that you can see and you can tell how like angry and frustrated he is with the dalatrass and victus#and how much he's holding back!! especially when linron insults him!! when she basically calls his people useless!!#like there's just a thousand+ years of pent up krogan rage about the genophage just boiling behind wrex's eyes#and he somehow manages to keep somewhat cool during the summit? like obvi wrex isn't a thousand+ years old but he's his people's rep#he's such a fucking interesting character especially during this scene when you think about a thousand+ years of the genophage#bc you get to watch him balance keeping his cool in a political situation he's a leader in#vs. remembering he's a krogan in the presence of the leadership of the people who literally created a sterility plague for his people??#and the raw emotions of that for him???#wrex my love you deserve the world for dealing with the summit in the cool-headed way that you did bc it was 100% bullshit for you#canon soph would have thrown the dalatrass off the normandy so fucking fast for insulting wrex and his people and you cannot change my mind
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
You've known someone for a long time
But you never really know who they are
for one of the smartest people i know, in honour of finishing your last college exam. @bellamyblakru im so so proud of u.
#ahhhh okay im actually feeling good about this set!!!#tried to change it up with the alternating coloured / b&w which was super fun#also messed with pairing fonts!! kinda fun but u already know i don’t love dealing with fonts LOL#also also tried out the gradient captions!!! so frickin cool#i hope you enjoy this angst;;;; i tried to make it extra angsty for u :)#ngl it hurt me to watch the finale to get the clips 😭 i don’t think i’ll ever get immunity to that shit jesus#ANYWAYS SUPER EXCITED BC THIS IS A NIALL SONG#whenever i heard the lyric “when i was on my knees in the darkness” i only saw MERLIN CAVE CRYING#so i just had to make this but i couldn’t figure out the rest of the scenes LMAOO#finally sat down tonight to get it dooone and what can i say i love it#just the right amount of angst 😩😩#but yes i’m still completely in my niall phase and we need to get you ON THAT#anyways anyways i hope you like this set!!!#i’m so proud of you my absolutely gorgeous incredible genius loml#also hope you’re feeling good!!! fuck that flu#i love u so much 💚💙 hope you have a good day my beloved#next up: gift for graduation day!! 🤪🤩#ayman gifs#merlin#bbc merlin#merlin gifs#merlingifs#merlin gifset#merlin angst#merthur#merthur angst#merthur gifs#niall my beloved#niall horan arms of a stranger#bellamyblakru
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Moonlight Showing”
summary | lyney whisks you away after his performance, wanting to make the most of his last night with his secret lover for awhile. (art credits: @/kiyonvmi on twitter).
warnings | profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, exhibitionism/public sex (creampie), a sprinkle of dominance, breeding, honestly fairly vanilla otherwise bc lyney is such a sweetheart, lyney speaks a little french
genre | smut
word count | 1.6k
pairing | lyney x reader
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Long after the crowd had dispersed from the picturesque Opera Epiclese at the close of Lyney and Lynette’s show, the beautiful gardens lie vacant under the moon’s silvery gaze. All the guests and staff had long taken the aqua-bus back to the Court of Fontaine to return home. There was not a soul in sight at this late hour.
However, even as the city sleeps, Coppelius and Coppelia—a mechanical wonder gifted to the Opera by the Fontaine Research Institute—continue their romantic dance in the courtyard. They never failed to captivate any audience as the reflective metal of the star-crossed lovers glimmered under sun or moon, rain or shine.
Atop the many steps leading down to the outdoor stage is a hand-carved throne of stone hidden behind the cypress trees encircling the scene. From afar perhaps it appears that there are indeed still two people lingering from the night’s magical performance, sitting together to admire the lovely dance.
To any innocent passersby, the sight was undoubtedly endearing and romantic. There’s nothing quite like the rush of young love. It was a good thing no one was here to bear witness; and even better that your lover was so cunning and clever, choosing such a secluded spot to have you in his lap.
Lyney’s gloved hands gripped the curve of your waist firmly, the pads of his fingertips digging into your soft flesh as he sinks your hips back down onto his hardened cock with a soft grunt of pleasure. You were forced to hold onto the cool armrests of the throne to keep yourself steady, the unexpectedly cold surface causing your walls to spasm and flutter around him. Groaning lewdly in your ear, Lyney was practically hypnotized by the way the white ring of your essence coated the base of his cock.
Your poor little legs were shaking. You couldn’t count how many times Lyney had made you cum, and yet he was utterly insatiable tonight. The erotic mixture of your fluids lubricated every inch of cock nicely. His smug, seductive laughter was a beautiful soft melody in your ears as the magician teased the tip of his length at your entrance, watching the nuances of your orgasmic expression once more.
With the ends of your sexy little red dress lifted up in his right fist, his other hand smacked your ass loudly. “You wore this on purpose, didn’t you, mon amour?”
A bratty whine rumbled in your throat as he forced you to continue fucking yourself on his throbbing length. You couldn’t possibly muster up a coherent response in your cockdrunk state. Cute little pants adorned the sound of your sex slapping onto his pelvis lightly smeared with your juices.
Lyney yanked you back by the hip to bury his needy cock into you, abruptly pulling the front of your dress down so your breasts spilled out into the open air. He loved feeling the enticing, malleable flesh between his fingers, occasionally pinching your adorable nipples to earn a sweet little moan out of you.
“Oh, fuck,” he murmured from behind, taking his thumb under the string of your lacy thong to get an unobstructed view of how your slutty hole gripped and swallowed his cock over and over. Lyney’s voice was deep and honeyed, enough to have you whimpering under your breath in anticipation. “Don’t you cream on my tights now. You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight, (Y/N).”
“Mm, mhmm,” you nod obediently, focusing intensely on the sensation of his cock continuously stretching your walls in the most delicious rhythm. You swear he must have memorized the exact spot that drove you wild. “Y-you fuck me… so good…”
“Mon amour, please, you’re doing all the work,” Lyney’s voice resounds lowly into the shell of your ear, smug and soft as velvet. He leans into your neck, nibbling at your sensitive skin. A seductive giggle warms your shoulder and sends shivers prickling down your spine. “Why don’t you let me work my magic, hm?”
You settle yourself completely onto his pretty cock, resting your back gently against his chest. Lyney continues to encourage you with sweet nothings, distracting you with his words of praise while gloved fingers cup underneath your plush thighs and spread your legs. He gently guides your legs apart to set your calves onto the cool armrests on either side of you.
You hear him draw in a sharp breath as your spongy walls suddenly tighten again. “Are you trying to milk me dry, mon cœur?”
“I’m sorry. C-can’t help it,” you mumble, practically a whimper as this position has your cunt clenching down and damn near feeling every curve and contour as Lyney’s cock angles into you from underneath.
He smirked, presenting the pink petals of your wet flower long decorated in cum to the empty gardens of the Opera Epiclese. Though it was just the two of you and the mechanical dancers below, the mere thought of anyone catching a glimpse of how his thick cock split you open was beyond thrilling to Lyney. Call it a showman’s pride in his performance.
And for Archon’s sake, every little bit of movement had you rolling your head back with a litany of soft-spoken profanities and prayers leaving your lips. Yet you found yourself curious, leaning forward slightly, mesmerized by the way he stuffed you nice and tight.
Lyney chuckled, always one to study and revel in his audience’s wonder, and even more so with his secret lover. He drank you in like fine wine, pupils dilating and swirling with endless pool of desire as you struggled to take him like this.
“Give me your fingers, ma chérie,” he asks, though his tone is surprisingly firm. It wasn’t really a question. You reached around your shoulder to offer him a shaky hand, your breath catching as something hot and wet envelopes your index and middle finger. “Touch yourself.”
Heat flushed your cheeks as Lyney’s warm saliva drips from your digits. Parting your folds, you liberally massaged in circles around your clit, already a bit swollen and puffy from your previous lovemaking sessions on the throne. You curse under your breath between moans, reaching further down to trace your fingers at the bottom of his cock and marvel at the way he disappears inside of you.
The magician groans faintly, the brush of your fingers leaving him extra sensitive as you grind your hips into him. His words come out as a desperate whisper in the night air, a plea only your delicate ears are privy to. “H-hah, fuck, it’s so perfect… ‘n’ made for me.”
Lyney’s hands trail down your sides lovingly, making sure you’re well adjusted to his length in this unique position. In the wake of his fleeting touch, he plants featherlight kisses wherever possible on your spine. He presses a final chaste kiss on your shoulder blade before leaning back, cupping the bottom of your thighs to support you.
“Call my name, mon cœur, that’s all I ask,” he groans, thrusting his cock fully into your dripping hole. You cry out, gasping as his tip reaches the deepest part of you and rubs against every lovely ridge of your walls. Lyney hushes your loud moan, not to deter you but rather to comfort you.
Caressing the innermost parts of your thigh, the magician effortlessly holds you from underneath to help you relax around his cock. He can see your back muscles loosen up, and he whispers to you, “Look up—look at the moon—she’s our spotlight, yeah?”
“Keep your pretty eyes on the heavens. I promise I’ll take you there,” Lyney coos, the timbre of his voice laced with longing. You were hopelessly ensnared in his web of passion and temptation, more than willing to submit to his saccharine words and whims. He smiled, praising you as your eyes drifted up to the full moon. “Je t'aime.”
Just as your reply was on the tip of your tongue, the magician squeezed the bottom of your thighs and finally bucked his hips up ruthlessly into your cunt. Despite how much Lyney prepared you for this position, he still stole your breath away. It was all you could do to meet the intensity of his thrusts. “L-Lyney…! Oh my god, fuck… keep going, p-please…”
Your orgasm was already stirring in the depths of your pelvis with Lyney pounding against your G-spot repeatedly without fail. His grip on the flesh of your hips became possessive, a low growl following his rapid thrusts. “Did I say to stop touching yourself? I want you a fucking mess on my cock.”
Apologies weren’t what he wanted. This was the final act of the night before you were to be separated for Archons knows how long. Lyney wasn’t about to waste this precious time without giving you the moon, the stars, and the whole damn universe—rocketing you to your climax after you fingers messily flitted across your clit.
“Lyney! I’m cumming, a-ah!” you nearly screamed in pure ecstasy and amazement, your legs quaking and threatening to collapse onto him. Waves upon waves of pleasure wash over you. You couldn’t believe how he relentlessly fucked your release into your sopping pussy, utterly blissed out and wishing for his seed like a whore.
Coaching you through your strongest orgasm yet, he exhales heavily and clutches you tightly, “That’s it, that’s it. Yeah… Sing for me, mon amour. You feel so, so good.”
Just as your climax reached its crescendo, Lyney’s cock twitched inside you and dribbled cum out of your abused hole when he pulled out. His fingers were buried into your skin, certainly enough to leave a bruise on your hips in the morning. Even though the magician was exhausted after the night’s worth of lovemaking, he spun you around and captured your lips softly—wanting to taste your post-orgasmic pants for air.
“It’s a shame,” Lyney chuckled warmly into your mouth, seemingly unable to detach himself from your decadent lips. “I really liked this dress on you.”
thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.
#not me literally taking pics of lyney at this spot and being like ‘hmm this would be a good spot to fuck’ lmao#[opulent dreams].✿#[dreams of delusion].✿#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact imagines#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin smut#genshin lyney#lyney x reader#lyney smut
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
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
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
the clash | vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)
hobie brown x goth!reader
word count: 2.2k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you (sort of), you hating hobie, angry hobie, death, there’s a murder, SORT OF GRAPHIC death scene, injuries, ANGST, a plot twist!, sort of allusions to s*icide
a/n: ok y’all. this one’s a lil shorter, but this is where it starts getting whacky. the way i’m writing this is sort of like if i was writing a comic book, so this is a WHOLE ASS PLOTLINE that i could see being illustrated in my brain. i hope you enjoy, bc it’s about to get WILD. don’t worry tho the fluff will come bc i’m soft(ish)
previous chapter: v. ever fallen in love
now reading: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)
next chapter: vii. i wanna be sedated
───────────────────────────────────
First thing’s first, Hobie needs to find out where the Prowler of your world might be. He could always call Miles and ask him where his Uncle Aaron lived, but that seems a little… insensitive. If there’s anything he knows about the Prowler, he knows that he’s a thief. So, Hobie snatches your police dispatcher and listens for some burglaries being reported. Getting any type of assistance from the police pains him to his very core, but he’s not about to wake you up and let you know what he’s about to do. He crouches on the railing of your balcony and stares out at your city. He hears calls about someone robbing a Bloodega, not the Prowler. Some kids snuck into a club, also not what he needs. “Come on, pigs,” he mumbles, “give me somethin’ useful here.”
That’s when his ears perk up.
“Reports of someone lurking around of Oscorp Labs, suspicions that it might be the Prowler. Units on standby for Spider-Goth, do not engage with the Prowler.”
Do not engage? What the hell? Isn’t he a villain? Hobie quickly understands what’s going on.
He works with the cops.
Fuck this assshole.
He leaps off your balcony, webbing his way through your city. It may not be his style, necessarily, but it’s a nice place. He can see why you like it so much. He’s actually been webbing through it more than he ever expected to with how much he visits you. He knows deep down that he’s visiting so much only to see you, but outwardly he likes to pretend it’s just to see Shadow. He knows more about your world than Miles, Pav, or Gwen’s which is interesting considering he’s known you only about 3 and a half months. Luckily, you live only a short web swing away from Oscorp, so he can’t get too lost in his thoughts about you and can end this guy faster. He lands on the top of the building and glances around. He notices a perfectly cut hole in the glass a few floors down, so he crawls down and through into the building. It’s dark. He tries to stay as quiet as he possibly can because he knows that’s how you would do it, but damn. He just isn’t good at stealth. And this is factual apparently, because he gets the feeling someone is watching him and just barely jumps out of the way from what looks like a whip covered in spikes. He lands on the ground in a crouched position when he hears a somewhat familiar sounding voice. “Who the hell are you?”
“Can ask you the same question, mate,” Hobie says, “The answer will make this whole thing so much easier.”
“You one of that freak’s friends?”
“Something like that,” Hobie responds. “I take it you’re the Prowler?”
“The one and only,” he says, and Hobie rolls his eyes under his mask. “Mate, do I have some news for you,” he snorts, and the Prowler flicks his wrist. His whip makes some mechanical noise and green and purple light starts shining through it in little places where the metal isn’t completely welded together. Hobie motions to it. “Bet you’re proud a’ that. What are you? A cybergoth? cyborgoth?”
“I’ll ask this one more time. Who are you?”
“Name’s Spider-Man, also known as Spider-Punk,” Hobie says, and the Prowler groans. “There’s another one? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“There’s a lot more than just me and them, mate,” Hobie crouches down, ready to leap out of the way if need be. “Why are you here? Where’s my insect at?”
Hobie doesn’t like the way he called you his. “They’re not yours,” he hisses at him. The Prowler is quiet for a moment before laughing. “Oh. I see. Didn’t know they had a boyfriend,” he says, before whipping towards Hobie. He jumps out of the way in time, but almost doesn’t because boyfriend? Excuse me? “Not their boyfriend!” he yells, landing on the ceiling and glaring down at the Prowler. “No? Then why are you here? I figured it was because of how badly I beat them. Their screams were so entertaining.” Hobie hates this man. He clenches his jaw. “Nowhere near as entertainin’ as yours’ll be, dickhead,” he grunts, jumping down and shooting a web at the Prowlers legs. Luckily, the Prowler wasn’t expecting that, and Hobie is able to yank his legs out from underneath him. He falls hard, and Hobie smirks. “Oh sorry, did that hurt?” Hobie says, and the Prowler growls, standing up faster than Hobie anticipated. “I’ll kill you.”
“Not if I kill you first, mate,” Hobie says, anger seeping out of his words. “A spider that willingly kills, huh? Is that why you came to find me?” he chuckles, “I feel like you and I could be good friends,” the Prowler’s chuckle turns into a laugh, and it pisses Hobie off even more. “I’d rather die than be friends with someone like you,” Hobie shoots another web at him, but this time the prowler dodges it. He flicks his wrist, and Hobie feels the whip make contact with his side. He grunts in pain. This must be what got you earlier today. “That can be arranged. You’re even worse than your little partner,” the Prowler says, and Hobie can hear the smirk. He wants to punch that fucking smirk off his stupid face. Hobie stands again, grabbing his guitar. If it’s a fight to the death this fucker wants, it’s a fight he’ll get. And Hobie will not be dying tonight. “Oh, what are you gonna do? Power chord me out of existence?”
“More like beat your ass until you kick it,” Hobie growls, “but if ya want me to do it with style, I’ll play ya a song over your dead body.”
“Bold of you to assume I’ll be the one dying tonight,” the Prowler says and uses his whip again. Hobie jumps out of the way, and his eyes widen as he dodges two bullets in midair. He lands on the ground and sees that the Prowler’s gauntlets are guns as well. He scoffs. “How much that suit cost ya?”
“Would have cost a lot if I didn’t steal it or invent it myself, but I did,” Hobie dodges two more bullets, but lands directly on the Prowlers whip, causing him to slip and fall. “Luckily my agreement with the police got me the state-of-the-art tech that I needed,” the Prowler confesses. “Fuck,” Hobie grunts, jumping up as quickly as he can. “I’m gonna love telling Spider-Goth I took down their boyfriend.”
“Not their boyfriend!” Hobie yells, jumping out of the way of his whip, and more bullets.
“I find that very hard to believe.”
“Look, how ‘bout we settle this without any gadgets, eh? See who wins then?” Hobie says, and the Prowler scoffs. “If you can’t beat me at my best, you can’t beat me at my worst.”
“Actually, yeah I can. Dunno if you’re realizin’, but I’m still alive and breathin’,” Hobie says, jumping out of the way of his whip yet again. This time, though, Hobie was prepared. He webs the whip and yanks it as hard as he can. The Prowler is airborne as Hobie swings him to the other side of the room. He lands with a thud, and Hobie webs over to him, doing a flip to land a kick directly to the face. The Prowler manages to get his whip wrapped around Hobie’s ankle and flings him back across the room. He crashes into some glass wall and groans. “As much as I fuck with your ‘fuck the establishment attitude,’ Spider-Goth ain’t gonna be too happy with me if I destroy another buildin’,” Hobie says, shaking his head, hearing some glass fall down next to him. Then, the alarms start blaring. ‘Great, probably broke somethin’ important,’ he thinks before noticing a piece of glass stuck in his arm. ‘Gotta make this quick,’ he thinks, grunting as he pulls the glass out of his arm. “Like I give a fuck what makes them mad,” the Prowler says, running towards Hobie. He leaps out of the way, webbing his leg again and causing him to slip and fall. Hobie then delivers a blow to the side of his face with his guitar, but thanks to his armor, it just hurts him more than anything.
Then Hobie hears hissing. He leaps up onto the ceiling just before a mechanical snake was about to sink its stupid metal fangs into him. “Made yourself friends ‘cause ya ain’t got any? I’d be gutted for you if ya weren’t such a dick,” Hobie says, webbing the snake and jumping off of the ceiling. He does a flip in midair, swinging the snake with him and throwing it at the Prowler. He dodges just in time, but Hobie is able to deliver another blow to him. This time, Hobie goes for his leg. And he hears a crack. Just as he wanted. The Prowler shrieks out in pain.
Hobie lands next to him and bends down. “Hope that hurt, fucker,” he spits, striking his other leg in the same fashion. He dodges the mechanical snake again, grabbing it and using his strength to break it in one squeeze. He throws it to the side and dodges more bullets from the Prowler’s gauntlets. Unsurprisingly, Hobie goes for both arms next. He stops when the man is rendered completely useless, rolling the Prowler over on his back. “I win,” Hobie says, and even he is taken aback at how menacing his voice sounds. The Prowler grunts, “You sure you’re a good guy?” Hobie ignores him and stands beside his head. “I do what I want. Any last words?”
The Prowler is silent for a moment before speaking. “Tell them that their boyfriend would have been able to save–”
Hobie doesn’t let him finish.
In fact, Hobie has trouble stopping even after he knows the deed is done. He didn’t even give Osborn this kind of disrespect. But this guy is different. All Hobie has to do is think about the state of your back, how you still blame yourself for what this motherfucker did to someone you cared so much about, and he’s swinging his guitar again.
He only stops when there’s nothing left to hit.
He breathes heavily, observing what he’s done in the flashing red lights as the alarm blares in the background. He walks back to the window, glancing back at what he’s done before leaping out and webbing away as fast as possible. He hopes no one saw him. Doesn’t want anyone confusing you for him.
He lands on your balcony and sees Shadow waiting for him inside the doors. He opens them and hears the cat meow at him. He leans down, giving him a few scratches, before opening a portal to his world. He goes home, falling on his bed. He groans, feeling the injuries he got for the first time. The adrenaline was keeping him going that entire fight. He gets up, and begins mending his injuries. Halfway through the last set of stitches he has to give himself, he gets a call on his watch from Miguel. He rolls his eyes, ready to get yelled at for, ‘interfering with the fate of the multiverse, yaddah yaddah yaddah blah blah blah boring boring boring.’
“Yeah, what d’ya want?” he answers, finishing up his stitches. “Get to Spider Society immediately.”
“I’m a little busy here, mate can it–”
“NO! It can’t wait, Hobie! Get here now!” Miguel screams, hanging up. Hobie groans. He was supposed to go back to your world so when you wake up, he would be there and explain why he did what he did. He could just go back… but then Miguel might show up in your world. And he sure as hell doesn’t want that. Sighing, he opens a portal to earth-2099, walking through and ending up in Miguel’s multi-screened research room. “Do you know what you did.”
“Killed a bloody villain, what of it?” Hobie asks, already annoyed. Miguel pounds his fist on the desk. “You interfered with (Y/n)’s timeline, Hobart!”
“I was protecting them!”
“YOU CREATED AN ANOMALY!” Miguel screams, and Hobie frowns. “How did I–”
“You killed a villain not a part of your own world, a villain who played a role in a major canon event of (Y/n)’s and now–”
“Would you come off it with the fuckin’ canon events?! Whatever it is will be resolved in one way or another!”
“Hobie you don’t understand–”
“He hurt them! Was I just supposed to stand around and let it happen?!”
“YES! We’re Spider-People it’s part of the job,” Miguel screams, and Hobie rolls his eyes. “I thought you hated them anyways, why did you want to protect them so bad?!” Miguel asks, and Hobie freezes. That… is actually a good question. He sees your injuries in his mind again and his frown deepens. Why did he want to protect you? Surely, he doesn’t… like you? No, he wouldn’t have done what he just did for a just a friend, though he would have still hunted the Prowler down. But the thought of him hurting you drove him to do unspeakable things… which he did. Is it… does he like you romantically?
His eyes widen. It would make sense if he felt that way. He was around you 24/7. These past two days were torture. He likes the way you challenge him. He likes the way you look, he likes the way you speak, he likes– “Hobie. Answer me.” His thoughts get cut off by Miguel, and he swallows hard. “I… I actually can’t answer that right now,” he says, and Miguel frustratedly runs his hand through his hair. “Hobie. What you just did…”
“Is bad, I know–”
“It’s not just bad. It’s detrimental.”
“What do you–”
“Do you know who you killed?” Miguel asks, and Hobie scoffs. “Obviously. I killed the Prowler, probably some variant of Aaron Davis or–”
“The Prowler on Earth-666 is not Aaron Davis,” Miguel says, frowning at him. “Did I kill Miles? You know his voice did sound kind of familiar…” Hobie asks, feeling a little worse about the way he handled the situation. “No. It wasn’t Miles, either.” Hobie looks up at Miguel, who takes a deep breath. “The Prowler on Earth-666 was Hobart Brown.”
Hobie feels like he just got hit with a pound of bricks. This is too much for him to process in one night. “I… what?”
“You just killed yourself.” Hobie shakes his head. “I–”
“He sounded familiar because he was you. Just without the English accent,” Miguel says. “Did (Y/n) know?” he asks, less concerned with the fact that he technically killed himself, and more concerned with the fact that he did all of those things to you. Miguel shakes his head no. “They didn’t. They were never supposed to know,” Miguel affirms, and Hobie lets out a shaky breath. He unclenches the fists he didn’t realize he formed. He feels the indents his nails made on his palms, but he doesn’t care. He was genuinely scared for a minute there. How would you react towards him if you know he was the one torturing you for so long? He nods. “Good.”
“There’s something else I need to tell you, Hobie,” Miguel says, and Hobie looks at him. “You changed a canon event. So far, the world seems stable… but you’re not going to like what will happen next,” Miguel says, turning away from him. Hobie jumps up to the platform Miguel is standing on. “Will (Y/n) be okay?” he sounds a little too frantic, and Miguel glances over at him. “You care too much for them.”
“Bollocks,” Hobie retorts, and Miguel sighs. “I knew you would like them,” he mumbles before pulling up information on your Earth onto the monitors. Hobie sees the Venom symbiote pop up and frowns. You haven’t had to deal with that yet. “The Venom symbiote was meant to bond to Hobart Brown on (Y/n)’s Earth. Now, the symbiote is going to bond to (Y/n), which is bad. This symbiote is unlike the other Venoms. It’s angrier. Deadlier. He would have been the worst enemy they ever had to face. I’ve been mentoring them as a secret way to help them train to be able to defeat him because… well…”
“Cause what?”
“Hobie Brown with the Venom symbiote would have been unstoppable,” Miguel says, turning to Hobie and delivering information that makes a chill run down his spine.
“Hobart Brown was meant to kill (Y/n) (L/n).”
───────────────────────────────
『 tag list 』
@444neapolitain @afraidofshrimp @arianalovescatss* @aroaceg @astrok1dz @baefy3764 @casmosmoon* @ch6ntt* @chill-guy-but-cooler @cl0udyw4ter @cursedbitchboy @d1nne @death-and-rebirth-again @dotheyevenknowmars @epicy0n @f1shb0nez @faerieluuv @fisshil @fukingsad @fushiguropleasesteponme* @friendly-reject @hisdarlingabsurdity @idk-i-draw @imarealfungi @imobsessedreader* @ineedsomeconfidence @inkthgoat @iwillrisefromthefire @j3st3r-13 @jayelyyynnn* @jingliuu @jjkclub @katiebug0603 @kenqki @khaleesihavilliard @kittekat420 @lacunaanonymoused @lightning-wolffe* @localbeidousimp @madusas-girlfriend @marshallowy @marsyay78 @mistpx* @miwagila @naarra* @nikabearr @notbluees @notplutos* @pookiesnatcher @queen-of-the-bored @queen-of-the-grapefruits @romeomahbromeo @sadbitchhours400* @scoliobean @sillylittleguyinc @simplefools* @siriusly1 @sparklyphantom @stevenknightmarc @sxftiebee @tengen-fourth-wife @thatweirdgirlsposts @umiexe @valee1xoxo* @wannabe-fic-reader @weyrrii* @wheeeelys @woahrin* @xoxobabe* @zero-boxes
*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue
if you asked to be on the taglist and i forgot, i’m sorry :( feel free to leave a comment on this or message me separately and i’ll get you right onto it!
#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x y/n#hobie brown x you#hobie x reader#spiderpunk x reader#spiderverse x reader#hobie brown#hobie#spiderpunk#spiderverse#theclashofthespiderverse
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Topic: Genshin impact.
au: Sagau.
idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like
Zhongli: “I will have order!”
reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”
Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0
So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!
“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”
Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️
Stars: bro idek
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
☆
so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO
so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)
so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,
u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)
then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more
and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???
ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running
it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)
it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor
and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-
dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities
u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-
oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,
and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)
by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit
at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,
and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???
a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-
and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao
right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along
(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)
u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,
and u just,
walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,
that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-
Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀
U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??
u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army
(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)
meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is
it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light
u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh
tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀
…
(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,
she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)
☆
well that was, something. 😃🫠
sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)
i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭
</3
on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃
have a good week guys!
Safe Travels Lil Car,
💀♒
If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue
If ur tag doesnt work, pls check ur settings to see if ur a "searchable blog"!! Its not the same as the Ai selling data thing.
#genshin isekai#sagau#genshin sagau#genshin imagines#genshin impact#my asks#genshin impact sagau#genshin x reader#aqua asks#aqua chats#10/10 rlly fun idea#this was fun to juggle and even tho i feel like i kinda flopped it#it was still a fun idea for future sagau endeavors tbh#:) <3#no but srsly im getting wisdom teeth surgery pls send everything good u got my way im nervous#its just intimidating to be knocked out and drugged up what can i say#might even write some sagau angst abt it when im languishing my fate in bed afterwards
262 notes
·
View notes
Note
Jacob has the visceral need of breeding his bf
Creaking Wood
Jacob Custos x Male Reader
IM BACK CHAT (for the most part) expect hopefully more activity from me 😭
cw: Nsfw, slight alcohol consumption, jacob being fine asl, Breeding (obv), and a top bunk holding onto dear life bc it has to hold up two guys going at it…
The crackling of the fire pit, aroma of beer and whistling of the wind set the perfect scene as the summer councilors sat around the fire conversing with one another. Your conversation with Emma came to a close, though as you felt as if someone was watching, lo and behold the hunk of meat who just couldn’t keep his doe eyes off you.
You took a sip of your almost finished Corona as you stare at Jacob back, your face beginning to tingle a bit from the beer but you also can’t help but feel it’s because of your boyfriend. You both stare for what felt like slight eternity until Ryan made a comment.
“Someone’s distracted” Ryan said to your left as he directed his gaze to Jacob than back to you
“Pfft, yeah okay.” You scoffed playfully, rolling your eyes in the process as you got up as you finished off your drink, crushing it up making sure to dispose of it properly. “I’m gonna go charge my phone inside i’ll be back though!” you explained to the group as you began to walk backwards, hands up, phone in one of them.
“Ay wait lemme come with!” Jacob yelled out, not even paying attention to Abby’s warnings to be safe on the walk…or maybe that was the alcohol. He walked over as you finally turned around walking correctly, giving a slight wave to the people still around the fire.
The stairs up to the cabin you and him shared creaked with each step you guys took, the darkness not helping with illuminating expect for the occasional lamp and or phone flashlight
“So w..what made you wanna come with?” You questioned, voice barely slurred.
“I mean if you want me to turn back I can~” Jacob playfully teased as a Tsk left your mouth and Jacob began to laugh
“Dumbass you know that’s not what I mean” Though a smile couldn’t help but come through before Jacob wrapped a hand around your waist, the floors creaking as you two walked inside. Soon closing the door as he pulled you a little closer to him, your walking paused as you allowed him to just hug you for a bit. The buzz of alcohol rushed across your face in the moment, even sober you know Jacob wanted to be around or in some way holding you so a buzzed Jacob is definitely gonna be clingy.
“So how long does it take for your phone to charge?” He questioned though the tone sounded a little suggestive, you took the time to go and climb your bunk as Jacob followed behind. “It’ll take a bit for it to charge, a good bit honestly so…do with that what you will” You said as you watched your boyfriend join you on the top bunk, his arm going around you as the silence fills the air for a second.
“Their tipsy~ they won’t check on us” Jacob said in an almost mischievous tone, his arm around you slowly moving to your face to move your lips towards his, though for someone with little brains he at least knew how to be a good kisser. It didn’t take long after that for Jacob to end up giving your bunk a run for its money. Jacob’s hand had your mouth covered as you felt his other hand keeping your back arched while he fucked you into the mattress.
“Fuckk babe you feel so good~” He moaned a bit as he got close to speak into your ear, looking back he’s even wearing his backwards hat which somehow just made the whole scene better even if you couldn’t fully see your boyfriend in what little moonlight there was.
All you could do was make muffled noises as you felt him go in and out, still making sure he’s got a good hold of you but now his hands moved down to hold you by the lower back as he made sure he made it all the way inside of you by going fast and pulling out until he begins to keep thrusting. “Shit i’m close-“ Jacob said almost like he was wincing, as if he didn’t want to finish yet.
You began to push yourself back into him as you gripped the bedsheets, being just as close, you needed that last bit of effort to bring you and Jacob to the edge. The fast thrusting soon coming to an end as you felt his cum slowly dripping as he pulled out, breaths heaving as the dopamine begins to pass until you ask a question both of you need to figure out
“How do we clean this up-“ D:
#jacob custos#the quarry#the quarry jacob#jacob custos x reader#jacob custos my fucking beloved#jacob custos x male reader#the quarry jacob custos#x male reader
181 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dragon Riding
note: the urge to write subby aegon was too strong you guys
warnings: yandere aegon, but he's soft, simp aegon, msub, incest (reader is rhae's daughter and heir), perv aegon, au where laenor lives, reader is a peacemaker, dinner scene, he's drunk, smut, mentions of childbirth, reader had a baby like a year prior lol, so curvy reader ig, idk chubby women make me go crazy, riding, aegon gets emotional, reader fucks him stupid bc who wouldn't want to fuck a man dumb, crybaby aegon, soft! dom reader, soft stuff
Family dinners were far from Aegon's favorite. They were always tense and dull, but with the arrival of his half-sister, dinner was even more unbearable. The only enjoyable part of dinner was the fact that he was seated next to his wife, and he had spent most of his time gazing at her cleavage.
(Name) was happy, that much was obvious. Her wide smile and sweet tone of voice made his head spin, as it often does when he's in her proximity. She had missed her parents and brothers, that much was clear. She was right next to Jacaerys, holding his lower arm in a comforting manner.
"It's been too long, little brother," she says, happily smiling at Jace as she looks at him lovingly. "I wish you all would visit more often, and for much happier occasions." (Name) grimaces as she remembers the fate of Vaemond Velaryon, her uncle by law. He had been promptly fed to Syrax after losing the top half of his head.
Aegon feels sick watching them touch. His wife would never be disloyal to him, but there was still the thought that (Name) would have been married to Jacaerys if Rhaenyra had gotten her way.
"Indeed," Rhaenyra speaks up, watching her daughter with a loving gaze. "You should come to Dragonstone sometime as well, daughter."
Aegon may hate family dinners, but Aemond had been the one to fuck it up this time around.
"Enough of this!" (Name) is shrill when addressing her brothers. "We are a family, grandsire is on his deathbed, and you all insist on childish arguments," she was gorgeous when angry. "Aemond, I do apologize for Luke, but it was a jest."
Fuck, he was hard.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
Tipsy and horny, Aegon waits in their bedchamber for his wife to return. She had informed him that her family would be returning to Dragonstone in the morning, and she likely wouldn't see them again for quite a bit. (Name) was particularly fond of her father, Ser Laenor, and had gone to bid goodbye to him before he took Seasmoke and fled Kings Landing.
He's in the middle of undressing and gulping down a goblet full of wine when the entrance to their bedchamber opens, revealing (Name) in all of her glory. She was still in that beautiful midnight-blue gown that she had worn to dinner, and she looked positively exhausted. Shutting down family disputes usually had that effect on her.
Her eyes catch Aegon in the middle of slipping off his trousers, and she lifts an eyebrow at him.
"Lord Husband, what are you doing?" (Name) asks this question despite already knowing the answer, and Aegon swears she only does this to tease him. He steps out of his trousers before answering. "I'm undressing..." his voice is wobbly and unsure. Perhaps it was the insecurity that came with knowing he was the worst husband that his saint of a wife could have been sacked with, or the knowledge that Rhaenyra would annul their marriage without a second thought. Aegon felt unsure of himself as he walks towards his wife, eyes watery and wide.
"I was hoping that my Lady Wife would be able to offer me comfort," Aegon gives his wife the look he knows she can never say no to, and he drops his undergarments to the floor while standing right in front of her.
(Name) shoots a subtle look of pity, one that many wouldn't be able to catch before she's cupping his face and pressing her lips to his own. Aegon promptly melts, his hands coming to her shoulders as he tries to shake off her dress. It was the kind of dress that had no shoulders, so it realistically should have been easy to pull off, but the nerves and alcohol running through Aegon's body were doing him no favors. She had given birth to their son nearly a year ago, but she still forewent corsets, proclaiming them as uncomfortable. Aegon had never raised a complaint, he loved seeing her natural body fill out those elegant dresses that she owned.
"Aegon," (Name) pulls away from him, hands brushing away the hair that fell in front of his face. "What's the matter?"
The loss of contact is the only thing that Aegon processes, a pitiful whine leaving his lips as he grabs at her hands. Aegon starts to walk backwards, he eventually makes it to their shared bed, and once he lets go of her hands he falls back into the mattress. This is the best view (Name) could have asked for, her pathetic husband laying drunk and insatiable in their bed, his weeping cock bobbing against his lower abdomen.
Aegon Targaryen may not have the longest cock in Westeros, but he most definitely had the thickest.
"I want," Aegon smooths his tongue over his chapped lips. "My wife to ride me."
It doesn't take much longer for (Name) to rid herself of her dress and undergarments, only being left with a long necklace made of jade. That's where Aegon looks as she climbs on top of him gently, taking his face in her hands once again.
Until being married to her, Aegon had never been treated so tenderly in his entire life. His mother, his sister, the whores he had filled his time with, none of them had ever treated him like this. Helaena loved him as her older brother, but being a Dreamer took a huge toll on how she acted. His mother was simply disappointed in him. She loved him, but she did not like him. His marriage and loyalty to his wife was the only thing that had ever made her proud of him.
When he was with (Name), he felt loved.
He felt especially loved once she guides his cock into her cunt.
Aegon whines before arching his back, his hands gripping at the covers of their bed. His usually pale cheeks were blown pink and his forehead was already beading with sweat as (Name) grinds her hips against his own. It was funny to Aegon, because he had never been this sensitive with any whore he'd ever been with. With (Name), he felt utterly out of control. The pleasure of her cunt squeezing his cock made his eyes roll to the back of his head.
"Aegon... ah, is this what you were wanting, husband?" (Name) keeps rocking her hips, her eyes locked on Aegon as he writhes underneath her. This was a welcome sight, and one she knew well. Their dynamic was an odd one, if you were to explain it to other ladies in court, they would gasp in faint. However, her precious husband didn't like being in control when they were in bed together.
In response to her question, Aegon reaches for her face to pull her in for a sloppy kiss. He's hardly focused enough to follow through with the kiss, the sensation of his cock being pleasured was too much for his brain to handle, but that was alright. (Name) followed his lips, kissing him softly. She was always so gentle with him, it was something Aegon absolutely craved.
Aegon mumbles something in between their soft and passionate kisses, and (Name) asks him to repeat it.
"Fuck me... fuck me," Aegon, brainless at this point and nearing his release, whines this out as he grabs onto (Name)'s love handles. He's moving his hips erratically, tears slipping past his eyeline as he whines loudly. Usually, (Name) would beg her precious husband to quiet down a bit. She'd hate for someone else to overhear their bedroom activities, as they had that happen with Aemond once before. Breakfast had been horribly awkward the morning after.
However, she could tell that Aegon's desperation was stemming from something devious. Something in his head was torturing him again, and she hated seeing him like that.
He suddenly shoots up, his arms wrapping around her body as he begs her to keep going. Aegon is sitting up with (Name) in his lap, her hips still rocking against his own as he cries out into her neck. "Fuck, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop-"
It only takes one more rock of (Name)'s hips for Aegon to reach his peak, his orgasm hitting him harshly, despite the gentleness of their lovemaking. Aegon arches his back as he erupts, his cum flooding (Name)'s cunt as he digs his blunt nails into her soft back, crying out in overwhelming pleasure. With her own hips stuttering, (Name) reaches her own finish, her lips pressed against her husband's neck. The sounds Aegon made only spurred her on, and her hips stuttered as she came.
Exhausted after dinner and riding her husband braindead, (Name) rises off of Aegon's spent cock before collapsing into bed, and not too soon after he crawls on top of her, pressing himself against her chest. The only sounds in their room were (Name)'s soft, ragged breaths and Aegon's pathetic little whimpers. He was still sensitive, and (Name) doubted that he even knew what was going on.
Once he settles down on top of her, (Name) runs her fingers through his hair, humming a soft tune in hopes of lulling her needy husband to sleep. She was so tired, and he'd likely try to get her to fuck him again if given the chance.
"How are you doing, Love?" She questions, soothing Aegon as his whimpers and whines die down.
"Hmph..." This is Aegon's only answer as he laces their fingers together, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles.
The both of them fall asleep like this, and Aegon wishes they could stay like this forever.
i'm so embarrassed posting this, if you guys like it please let me know because this made me so insecure.
anyhoot, soft! femdoms > hard! femdoms
#cw: yandere blog#cw: yandere content#cw: yandere#yandere aegon ii targaryen#yandere aegon targaryen#yandere hotd#yandere house of the dragon#yandere team green#yandere team black#yandere smut#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere content#yandere#kay writes#rhxegal
461 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hellouuu, I saw you Wirte for hobie brown (and I’m literally in love with him) and I wanted to request something. Like one day he stays over and says something like”I just wish there was more action in town” bc there wasn’t much going on that week and soon after that r gets into danger and it’s kinda hurt/comfort? PLEASE
Jinxed
Had to do a fic w my boy kendrick 🙏🏽🙏🏽
You listened as he talked, he was on his floor and you sat behind him and oiled his hair.
“Y’Know, sometimes I wish there was just more action. It’s gettin’ boring with missions and all that.” He said.
“So you don’t wanna spend more time with me?” You teased.
“You know that’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “Jus’ saying it’s borin’ is all.”
“I’m just messing with you. No, that makes sense.” You said, he talked some more and when you finished he got up.
“Thank you. I’ll be out for a few hours, but I’ll be back soon.” He said, putting on his jacket. “Don’t forget to-“
“Yeah, yeah, keep the door locked.” You rolled your eyes and waved him off.
“Yeah. I love you.” He kissed you.
“Love you too.” You said, he opened the door and left. You locked the door, and you sat down on the couch.
You hung out for about an hour, when you heard a loud crash in the room. You jumped up, and slowly went to the kitchen. You grabbed a knife when something- or someone- kicked you in the back. You yelped and fell over, dropping the knife.
You fell, and groaned in pain. Then some other people came in.
“What the fuck.. you all look like the goddamn swat team!” You shouted as they grabbed you, one of them grabbing their guns and hitting it on your head, and knocking you out.
They went downstairs, and quickly into their van, to which they put you in the back.
When you got to the warehouse, and you woke up, you immediately looked at the watch you always had.
It was there.
Your hands were tied, but you moved them, your fingers pushing random buttons, until it started to beep. Everyone looked at you, in confusion of what the noise was.
“Sorry. It’s my alarm on my watch, y’know…”
They couldn’t get the watch off so they waited until it shut up.
They waited until some huge guy walked in, and he was menacing for sure.
“Y/n L/n. We know about you and the spider.”
“Ohhh, you mean my boyfriend? Or soon to be husband. He doesn’t like labels.”
“Yes. Hobie Brown. We are trying to reach him, but can’t seem to do so on our own. So, lovely, here’s what we’re gonna do.”
“I think you just ruined the word lovely for me.”
“First, you’re going to shut up unless I ask you a question.”
All of his men decided to point their guns at you, so you did shut up.
“Next, you are going to tell me where he is, or every time you don’t , I will make sure that you suffer for it.”
“So where is he?”
“I would tell you but-“
A loud slap, right across your face. You just looked at him and smiled.
(Like the Loki scene LMFAOO)
“I’ll ask again, where is he?”
“What if I said I don’t know?”
He punched you this time, you groaned and looked down in your lap.
“Bullshit. Tell me now.” He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“Nah, kiss my ass.”
He started to get angry, and put his large hands around your neck. You struggled to breathe, and then someone came kicking down the door. Hobie.
The men’s henchmen started to run towards him, Hobie webbed them to wall with no problem.
“Hands off, man.” He said, the man took his hands off your neck. You looked at him.
“So, you came?
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here now would you shut up?” He said, looking at you a bit panicked but tried to remain calm.
The man ran towards him, and the rest was a blur as you caught your breath. Hobie came up to you when it was over, untying you.
“I’m sorry. Oh god I fucking jinxed it-“
“It’s not your fault-“
“You got into this because of me-“
“Hobie. Listen, I love you.” That made him stop untying you for a moment.
“I love you, and if I got into trouble it dwouldnt matter you know why? Because I know you’ll come for me.”
He took off his mask, and kissed you.
“I love you.”
You smiled. “Alright, but can you please untie me already?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry.”
After you were untied, you both walked for a while before you got tired.
“C’mon.” He said, and grabbed you. (Kinda like mj and Peter in no way home)
He started to swing as you hid your face in his chest, laughing.
Once he landed, he made sure no one was following him this time and took you upstairs. And led you to the bathroom.
“Alright, sit down.” He said, you sat down on the closed toilet seat.
He checked out your face, and then your neck. Hand shaped red marks on your neck, and you cheek where he punched you.
He furrowed his brows as he focused and lifted up your face, examining your neck and face.
“I’m sorry.” He said again, genuine. He grabbed some ice from the fridge, putting it in a towel and putting it on your face.
You held his hand that was currently on your face as you looked at him.
“It’s not your fault. Okay? It’s nobodies fault.”
He nodded, and looked at your hands.
“We’re gonna be alright.” You said.
He smiled “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
—————————————-
(Can you tell I’ve never really written a villain?)
Tag list: @enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn
@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l
@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn
@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub
@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @artsykerfuffleplus @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah
#hobie brown#hobie brown x reader#spider man across the spider verse x reader#spider man across the spider verse#spider punk x reader#spider punk
635 notes
·
View notes
Text
favors pt. ii
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
this is part two of this post, i suggest reading that before reading this!
this is my first time writing smut, so please don’t bully me too bad - that being said i honestly think i kinda killed it ngl
also,, i suggest listening to like real people do by hozier during the slow dance bc it was my inspo and it really helps set the scene
~~~
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
original prompt: you’re abby’s babysitter and mike can’t pay you and asks if there’s anything you can do in return and you mention that you need a date to your brother’s wedding
warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, cheating, pet names, afab!reader (p in v) unprotected sex, daddy kink, spitting, cum swapping, throat fucking, spanking, oral (male and female), praise kink, dirty talk, choking, etc etc
word count: 6k
this is NOT proof read so if there are any mistakes ignore them! i believe that anyone of any shape or size and anyone of color can enjoy this. i don’t believe there is any description of physical appearance other than the use of the word ‘curves’ (please please correct me if i’m wrong, i don’t want to make assumptions about anything!!)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After some back and forth with himself, Mike decided to invite you over even though you didn’t need to babysit Abby. He wanted to talk about what he needed to wear to the wedding, what time to pick you up, and if you were staying overnight at the hotel so he could try to find a sitter for Abby. He’s never been to a wedding, not one that he can remember anyway. He wanted to make sure you were both on the same page and to him, texting everything just wouldn’t suffice.
Maybe that’s just what he kept telling himself. Maybe he just wanted to see you again. Maybe he wanted to ask you just how serious your relationship was. Is there any way he could squeeze in and replace your current partner? Could he do better than him? Make you cum harder and faster than him? He didn’t even know his name and he was so envious. Jesus, he needed to get a grip, he knew if you could hear his thoughts, you would hate him.
You were sat across from Mike, crisscrossed apple sauce style on the floor. You had a few loose papers, notes you had written last night to read off to the brown-haired boy. You were trying to make sure he was following along with the description of your family. You watched him make mental notes of everything you said, nodding every once and a while. You were nervous, to say the least, you hadn’t had a boyfriend meet your family in a while.
Your family was awful, complaining and nitpicking about everything in your life, nothing good enough for them. You were the oldest of your siblings and your cousins, but way behind in your career, you weren’t married, and you didn’t have any children. When you didn’t bring a date of some sort, they made sure to call you out on that, ‘Maybe it’s just something we’ll have to get used to’, ‘single again? No surprise there’. When you did bring a date it was the exact opposite, ‘You could do so much better’, ‘that’s the best you could do? We thought we raised you better’. It was quite embarrassing.
“My mom is going to be the most difficult, she is very hostile and she loves to pick everything I do apart.” Mike visibility gulped, nodding and making a mental note to limit his contact with your mom. “I think that’s everyone. We will probably need to do some hand-holding and some cheek kisses, some pet names maybe, but nothing that will make you uncomfortable, I already feel bad enough that I had to drag you to this and-”
Mike reached over and grabbed your hand that was resting on top of the coffee table, “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy, if I didn't want to do it I would've just said no. I want to help you”
You squeezed his hand, softly smiling at him. “I’m going shopping tomorrow morning for a dress, I’ll buy a tie for you while I’m out and drop it off once I’m finished if that’s okay?” you pick up your phone and keys off the table, standing up feeling the little shocks of electricity poke your legs after being in the same position for too long.
“Of course pretty girl, you can stop by whenever you want” Mike scolded himself, looking straight to the floor, regretting the words as soon as they came out of his mouth.
You look up from the pile of notes you collected, feeling the soft red form on your cheeks. Pretty…
“I’ll be back tomorrow, I’ll text you when I’m on my way,” you say as you walk towards the door, “Bye Abby!” you yell to the girl sitting at the dining table, knowing you won’t be getting a response back, shutting the door behind you. Pretty…
Pretty, Pretty, Pretty.
Those were your only thoughts as you got in your car, buckled in, and started to drive.
~~~
Mike tugged at the forest green tie you bought him trying to make the placement look presentable. Mike hated ties, associating ties with job interviews, sitting in uncomfortable chairs trying to look and sound better than he would be on his first day of the job, just to be there a few miserable weeks until he inevitably gets fired. Nothing good ever came from Mike wearing a tie and he was hoping that you were the solution to solving that problem.
He was combing his curls when he heard a knock at his door, “Abby, get the door, she’s here!”
He heard her desk chair slide against the floor, her little feet fast as lightning to get the door for you, giggling the whole way.
“Oh wow,” the younger sibling looks at you in awe “You look beautiful like a princess!”
“Awe, thank you, Abby” You walk through the doorframe, “Mike are you ready? We need to leave in the next ten if you want to drop Abby off and be on time!”
He walked out of the bathroom, flicking the light off as he exited and looking down the hall, about to tell his sister to put on her shoes he stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t look anywhere but you. ‘Fuck’ he thought, ‘you look so beautiful’ Your hair done just right, a matching green mid-length dress that was tight to your curves, hugging every inch of your body, strappy silver heels that he knew would make you slightly taller than his small frame. Abby was right, you do look like a princess.
You suddenly noticed Mike's eyes on you, pulling away from your conversation with Abby, feeling slightly bad for cutting off her story about her new robot animal friends. “Is everything okay?” Mike didn’t answer, zoned out in his thoughts, “Do I look that bad?”
Feeling super self-conscious, you start to fold your arms on your body, trying to hide as much as possible. Mike immediately notices your body language change.
“No, you look so beautiful. That dress fits you really well.” Mike spoke softly, afraid of looking anywhere other than your eyes as if you’d be able to read his mind if he looked away.
“Thank you, Mike, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You eyed him up and down, his brown curls more pronounced, uncommonly neat, and taken care of, his matching tie slightly crooked, a small white handkerchief pinned to the front. “Very handsome”
Abby pulled you both away from your thoughts, finding it silly that you both just stared at one another not really speaking in full sentences. “Why are you guys looking at each other like that, it’s weird.”
Mike looked away first, embarrassed that a child called him out, “Abs go put your shoes on and grab your stuff, we’re going to be late.”
“Can’t I just come with you guys? I’ll be good, I promise!”
“I’m sorry Abby, my brother doesn’t want any kids coming, this is an adult party,” you say trying to make her not feel so bad, “but I promise you’ll have so much fun at Vanessa’s, don’t tell her I told you her secret but she’s buying pizza AND cookies”
The younger sibling looked at you with big eyes and a toothy grin, scurrying off to her room, singing ‘pizza and cookies’ over and over until she made it to the doorway.
“Ready?” you asked Mike as you started following Abby to the car, Mike grabbed his wallet and locked the door behind him as he followed you to your car.
~~~
The car ride wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be, at first it was small talk, Mike asking questions about your job and your boyfriend, Parker, and what he does for work.
You turned into childhood stories, you telling him about your first kiss, which was with your middle school boyfriend and you both came in way too fast. “There is no way you broke your tooth!” “I did, It took me three weeks of it missing before my parents could get an appointment for me to fix it.” you reply giggling, “I had the worst lisp and it was the most embarrassing time of my life.”
“I’m sure it was cute, I would have loved to see it”
“You would’ve laughed at me, my brother called me Mike Tyson for months, even after I fixed it.”
Mike chuckled as he turned into the venue, trying to find a parking space. The hour-long drive went by quickly. Now your nerves were starting to appear, seeing all of your perfect family congregating at the entrance and talking with each other, wearing expensive clothes, topped with expensive jewelry. Not ready for them to pick apart your looks, personality, and everything else that they can think of. Mike noticed your anxiety and grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly.
“We could always go back if you want. We can sleep over at my house and order some Chinese food.”
“As great as that sounds, my brother would probably beat me up over me missing this” You squeezed Mike’s hand, “Let’s just go and get this over with.” You step out of the car and grab your purse, waiting for Mike at the front of the car, he collects his things and stands in front of you. You grab his tie, quickly straightening it. You finished and looked up at him, keeping your hands on his chest. You looked up to Mike, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you two were so close together.
You never noticed how nice Mike’s body was. He was always wearing something baggy, usually torn, his black suit was the nicest you’ve seen him in. ‘He was so handsome’ you thought. You pulled your hands from his chest, “Ready?”
Mike grabbed your hand, face turning a light shade of red at the intimate contact, interlacing both of your fingers together. Smiling to himself, “I’m ready”
~~~
The ceremony was beautiful. Everything seemed to go perfectly for your brother and his new wife, watching the two from the front row. Mike wrapped his hand around your waist during the vows, handing you his handkerchief after watching you shed a few tears. You leaned into the contact, feeling comfort in Mike’s arms. You stand up with everyone else and watch your brother and his wife walk hand in hand down the aisle, cheering and clapping loudly. After a few moments, you and Mike followed your family, grabbing his hand instinctively.
You find your seat at the table, set down your purse, and ask Mike if he wants a drink from the bar, making your way up front after he answers. You turn around with your drinks, stopping when you see your mom sitting next to Mike at your table.
‘Oh shit,’ you muttered to yourself, slowing your pace and hoping she’ll be gone by the time you make it back. You try to read her as you walk back, her face is soft as Mike speaks and suddenly they both start laughing. No one you’ve ever dated has ever made your mom laugh, she looked nice like that, you haven’t seen her like that since before her divorce.
You sit on the opposite side of Mike, handing him the glass. “Hi, Mom”
“Hi sweetheart, you look nice!”
“Thank you” You were stunned, you couldn’t remember the last time your mom complimented you.
“I was just talking to Mike, he’s the sweetest thing! He was just telling me about his sister. She sounds so cute.”
You looked over at Mike, who was smirking towards you. He stood up, telling you both he was going to find a bathroom, squeezing your shoulder softly as he left the table. You smiled at him and watched him walk away.
“I like him!” your mom finally spoke, once Mike got far enough away
“Really?”
“Of course, he’s handsome and he’s funny. He seems to like you. I think he’s a good fit for you,” you shivered at the nice comments from your mother, not often hearing such things. “You better not screw this one up.”
“Thanks, Mom, I won’t”
You smiled at her as she walked away telling you she was going to find your aunt to talk about how ugly the centerpiece arrangements your brother’s mother-in-law picked out were, you laughed, there was your mom.
You sat there alone with your thoughts. You were thinking about what would happen if you were actually with Mike. You could imagine coming home to him after work every morning, making him and Abby breakfast, and falling asleep with him after a long day. You don’t do that with Parker, you hardly see him, his job keeping him away from you for weeks at a time.
Mike sat back down, disrupting your thoughts. “How did I do?” motioning towards your mom, who was across the room rolling her eyes at something your aunt said.
“You did great, she really liked you. She didn’t say anything negative the whole time she was at the table!” Your eyes were wide, excited to tell Mike how the unusual interaction went.
Before he could reply, your brother and his wife walked into the room hand in hand, getting set in the middle of the dance floor to start the first dance. A slow song started to play, and they danced hand in hand, him twirling her around every once in a while. The song finished with a kiss, everyone cheering for them and they started to wave at everyone to come up and dance, the song changing to something more upbeat. You grab Mike’s hand, rushing to the middle of the room. You both started dancing, laughing at how bad dancers you both were.
Eventually, everyone was called back to the tables as dinner was about to start. You sat down next to Mike, taking a sip of your water, laughing about something he said as you both sat down.
“I’ve never danced like that before,” Mike said after finishing off his water, slightly out of breath
“God, me either. I’m exhausted and my feet hurt”
“You want me to rub them for you baby?”
“Maybe later,” you winked, smirking towards him.
Mike smirked back, knowing that he would hold you to that. He watched you all night, watching the way you danced, swaying your body to the beat of every song, slight sweat growing on your body, the way your eyes squinted and you threw your head back every time someone said something funny. You looked so beautiful and in your element, comfortable and confident.
~~~
After dinner you walked up to the DJ, whispering a request for him. He smiled, picked up a mic, and started to tap on it lightly, grabbing everyone’s attention.
“ladies and gentlemen, with dinner wrapping up, I’d like to slow it down just a little bit”
Like Real People Do by Hozier started playing.
Mike watched you walk back to the table, standing next to him putting your hand on his shoulder. “may I have this dance, sir?” you say holding out your hand, giggling to Mike.
“of course, m’lady,” Mike says, holding your hand and leading the way to the floor. He took one of your hands in his, his other one holding tightly on your waist. You both start to sway with the music, looking towards Mike who starts to speak.
“I think we’re going to be the only ones to dance to this song.” You looked around noticing everyone still placed in their seats, eyes glued toward you both.
You nodded, staying silent and continuing to move around. You move both of your hands up to his neck, interlocking your fingers behind his head, him holding you close at his waist.
You just stared at him in disbelief, days ago you remembered him telling you he doesn’t dance. Now here he was, slow dancing to your favorite song in front of your entire family. He looked into your eyes, they were softer than you’ve ever seen them. He looked comfortable, happy, relaxed. He looked towards your lips, licking his own.
‘Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips,
we should just kiss like real people do.’
Using all the confidence you built tonight, you leaned your head forward to Mike’s, kissing him softly. Mike didn’t waste a moment, kissing you back with so much passion. This was the best kiss you’ve ever had. You both grinned at each other as you pulled away. You stepped closer to him, resting your head on his chest. All you could think about was his lips on yours, how you wanted this moment forever.
“Thank you for coming, I’m having a great time, and my family really likes you”
“I’m glad I could help, I’d do anything for you”
The song finished and you reluctantly pulled away from Mike, you heard a few people clap and you looked up from his gauze, noticing your family was grinning, smiling, throwing a few thumbs up in your direction. You laughed and bowed towards everyone, walking back towards the table.
“You want to go back to the hotel room?” Mike asked, taking the cue from a few of the other guests grabbing their belongings and saying their goodbyes.
“Yeah, let’s go” You grab your stuff and head up to the table where your brother and his best man are sitting, telling him to stand up to hug you goodbye.
You hugged your brother, giving him congratulations as you did so. He whispered in your ear before he let go. “I like him a lot more than Parker”
You just smiled and held a finger to your lips. “I do too but don’t spill my secrets”
You grabbed Mike's hand and walked to the front of the venue, he stopped you outside, bending down to take off your shoes knowing they weren’t very comfortable anymore. The small action makes you blush, thinking about how kind it was of him to remember the conversation from earlier. He held onto your shoes for you the entire walk down to the car, the cold grass feeling cool on your skin. He opened the car door for you, waiting for you to get in before shutting the door for you.
You were in our own world as he drove down the road to the hotel. You were thankful that Mike was here with you, you couldn’t imagine yourself being with anyone else right now and that was a problem. You had a someone else, who right now didn’t exist to you, and you racked your brain on the best way to end it. You in good conscience, couldn’t continue your relationship with Parker, ready to end it with a quick text right then and there and deciding to at least wait until the morning.
“Your brain okay?” Mike jokes, pulling you from your thoughts, “You’re thinking way to hard about something over there and you better not let it ruin your night, you’re mean when you’re cranky”
You giggle, looking into his coffee colored eyes, getting super serious grabbing his hand and squeezing, “Nothing could ruin tonight”
~~~
You threw yourself down on the bed, lying down while mumbling something about needing a shower. Mike set the overnight beds on the table in the corner of the room.
“You can take the first shower if you want Mike, I might take a nap while I wait”
Mike chuckled and started to collect his things for the shower, glancing over at you, laying on your back with your feet hanging off the bed, hand over your eyes to cover the light in the room.
Mike was sad the night was over, wanting to continue to be close to you in every way imaginable. He saw the strap of your dress had fallen on one side, the dress slightly raising higher and higher on your thighs with every swing of your legs.
“You know,” Mike started, You pulled your arm away from your face, turning your whole body to look at him, humming in response, “that massage is still on the table if you want one.”
You felt your body get hot, the thought of Mike rubbing all over your body started to turn you on, and you felt butterflies form in the pit of your stomach.
“If you’re willing, I wouldn’t turn you down.”
Mike moved across the room embarrassingly quickly, wanting to touch you before you changed your mind. You chuckled at his eagerness, knowing he wanted this as much as you did.
“Lie down on your stomach, I’ll give you the best massage of your life.”
You flip over on your stomach, arms crossed with your head resting on top of them. Your breath hitches when you feel Mike’s hand touch your calf, putting pressure down with his thumb making small circles.
You felt yourself relax at his touch, every grip of his hands pushing you into a frenzy. You hummed when you felt his hands move from your calf to your thigh, his grip getting stronger and tighter when he realized you weren’t going to stop him.
Mike heard your soft moans as he pressed into your skin. He loved hearing your sounds, he felt himself growing hard in his bottoms knowing he was making you feel so good. He moved to your back starting from the bottom of your back, headed towards your shoulder blades.
You leaned up to sit on your knees, making Mike stop in his tracks.
“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” seeing Mike upset and immediately thinking the worst, you put a comforting hand on his arm.
“No, it felt amazing, I just felt like something was in the way” You reach behind you, gripping the zipper of your dress and slowly pulling it down. You slipped the straps of the dress down, the top of the dress slipping below your breasts. You looked up at Mike, his eyes hooded and glossed over. ‘holy shit’ he says low, so low you can barely hear it.
“What's wrong baby, you’ve never seen boobs before?” You see the clogs in his brain turning, trying to form words, occasionally looking down from your face to take a quick glance at your exposed nipples, hardening in the cold air.
He leaned down to your face, his lips barely glazing yours, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other hand reaching to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. “Is this okay?”
You nod in response leaning forward, closing the gap between you two, kissing him with so much need. You let your hands travel to the buttons on his shirt, finishing and sliding the top down his shoulders.
Mike was quick, thinking about this moment one too many times, thinking about your boyfriend and how he’s going to make you forget about him, thinking about if this were the only opportunity he would ever get he would make sure to go all out, making sure you dream about him the way he does you.
He pulls away and pushes you down on the bed, he pulls the dress down your legs removing it the rest of the way and tossing it down to the floor. “Tell me if anything gets to be too much.”
“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He toys with the lace on your underwear, leaning down to plant kisses on your thighs.
You feel his fingers move down to touch your clothed clit, rubbing softly. You push your hips up, feeling your body feel with need, wanting more.
You lace your fingers in his hair as he starts to leave hickeys on your sensitive thighs. “Fuck Mike I need-” You take a deep breath unable to formulate words.
Mike looks up from his place on your thighs, moving his head towards your pussy. “Tell me what you need, pretty girl.”
The name sent butterflies in every part of your body, you could feel yourself growing needier every second passed by. Your nipples were painfully hard and you could feel how soaked you were through your underwear. He continued to rub your clit, underwear molding to your shape.
You took a deep breath, tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes “Please more, I need you to touch me, however you want. just need more”
Mike pulled your underwear to the side, finally touching you, fingers falling from your clit to your dripping hole. “Look at this pretty pussy, s’all wet just for me?”
He pulled his finger away and placed it in your mouth, “Suck” You leaned forward sucking his fingers with everything you had, swirling your tongue around.
Mike looked up from your pussy, peeping up from his eyelashes to watch you suck his fingers. He was painfully hard, thinking about your mouth around his cock, eyes full of tears and drool dripping from your swollen lips.
He leaned down to lick from your hole to your clit, taking his time. He wanted you to know that you were the only thing on his mind, and you did, he started to eat you out like he was starved and this was his last meal. pulling you close until his hands gripped your thighs so hard you were sure to have bruises, nose rubbing your clit, everything adding up to the knot in your stomach.
“Fuck baby, you taste so fucking good. Could taste this pussy every fucking day.” You tugged on his curls harder, each word spurring you on, getting you closer and closer.
“Fuck baby, I’m so close”
He hummed and added a finger to your tight hole “You going to cum for me, baby? Cum on my mouth like a good girl, so good for me”
Your thighs squeezed him as you came, letting out a loud moan. He continued to lick and suck, drawing your orgasm out longer. It started to become too much and you pulled him back to face you. You kissed him, feeling his wet stubble on your face, reaching your hand down to his pants and rubbing your fingers over his clothed cock.
With shaking hands you started to undo his belt, flipping you both over until you were between his thighs. Pulling his pants down, Mike kicked them off, and you stared at him in awe at his size. You took him in his hand, starting to rub slowly, not breaking eye contact.
He grabbed your face, and squeezed your cheeks together, forcing your mouth open “Can I?” You stuck your tongue out in response, eyes full of lust.
Suddenly a long trail of spit left his and entered yours, “Use it, pretty girl” You kept your mouth sitting up on your knees to get face to face with his cock, and you let the mixture of spit fall from your mouth, making a mess on his lap. Your hand started to move quicker with the added lube, you leaned forward. Licking from the bottom all the way to the top, one of your hands leaving his thighs to make your way to his balls. You started to tease him and sucked only the tip, Mike's hips jerked forward in response, forcing you to take more in your warm mouth.
You started to pick up your pace, taking in as much as you possibly could his groans spurred you on to take even more, “‘s so fucking sexy seeing my dick in your mouth, want to fuck that throat so bad” He collected your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip tight. You pulled off looking above you to see Mike’s tightly closed eyes, your hand replacing your lips, keeping pace with what you made with your mouth.
“Do it”
Mike opened his eyes quickly, “Are you sure?”
“Stand up and fuck my throat baby, ‘s alright”
Mike stood upright, keeping his grip on your hair as you shifted your body around to get comfortable.
“Just smack my leg if it gets to be too much pretty girl”
You nodded in response, wasting no time opening your mouth for his cock, placing both hands on his legs, gripping tight in preparation for what was about to come.
Mike went right to work, shoving in and out quickly, getting spurred on by the tears and sounds coming from you. Pushing your head back and forth in a bobbing motion, gagging every time he pressed as deep as possible.
“Look so pretty with my dick in your mouth” He pulled your mouth off him, and you moved your hand from his thigh to stroke him. He took a moment to look at your cockdrunk expression. Lips puffy, tear-stained cheeks, your chest breathing in and out heavily. “You going to let me cum in your mouth baby? Tell me, pretty girl, tell me what you want”
He felt your grip on his dick tighten, you moved one of your hands to touch yourself over your lace panties, feeling your wetness soaked through at his words. “Yes sir, want your cum in my mouth.”
You went right back to work, lips wrapping tightly around his dick. You gave him head as your life depended on it, needing to see how he looked while he came, what sounds he’d make, what mess he'd make.
You started to feel Mike’s hips falter, his once strong movements becoming staggered and you knew he was close. “Fuck- I’m coming. Fucking take it.” You looked up at him, dick pressed far down your throat, feeling the hot liquid start to seep out the sides of your mouth. “Swallow all of it. That’s my good girl”
Mike let go of the grip on your hair and pulled out of your mouth, wincing at the overstimulation. He pulled you up to lay on your back on the bed, leaning over you. You watched Mike’s fingers on your thigh, collecting the spilled cum that fell from your mouth, and placing them in his mouth. The salty liquid kept in his mouth until he leaned his lips towards yours, you opened your mouth with anticipation. A long string of cum filled spit falling into your eager mouth, gulping instinctively.
“Had to make sure you swallowed all of it” he murmured before pressing his lips roughly to yours. You laced your fingers around his neck, pulling him down further, needing to be closer to him. You moaned when he pulled away to start kissing your neck, sucking and biting to mark you up. He pulled your underwear off and started to rub his dick against you, feeling your hips joining him in the motions.
You were in a state of bliss, never even thinking this feeling was a possibility. Mike handling you like his own personal fuck toy, marking you up to show you off, his cock grinding against your clit like he was going to cum just like that. You push him off of you, flipping him over to get on top, straddling his thighs. You lined his dick up to your entrance, going at a slow pace to adjust to his size, stopping to steady yourself when you got to the end, hands on his chest with your eyes closed.
Mike was patient, as much as he wanted to destroy you and your tight pussy, he wanted you to feel good. He kept one hand on your hip, keeping you steady, moving the other one to your clit, trying to help get you comfortable. Almost immediately you moaned and started to move your hips, painfully slow up and down.
“You look so beautiful like this, stuffed full of my cock.” Mike’s hands moved to your hips, helping you move faster and faster. With your pretty tits in his face and your tight cunt wrapped around him, eyes rolling back in your head and your moans loud enough the entire hotel could hear you.
“Fuck daddy, you feel so fucking good” Mike groaned at your voice. The name causes him to rut his hips up to meet yours, causing you to fall forward, holding onto his shoulders. His pace was fast and rough, hands in a tight grip on your sides, nibbling on your neck as he pounds into you, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. “You going to cum on daddy’s cock? Let me feel you, baby, show me how good I make you feel.”
“Gonna cum daddy, s’ fucking good” You moan in his ear, nails digging into his skin as you come undone, mumbling a string of thank yous. Mike’s movements start to slow down, trying to give you a moment to recover.
With your breath heavy, you bring your lips to Mike’s as you slowly pull off of him. You pull away from the kiss and both hiss at the loss of contact, you sit up on your knees, locking your eyes with his own.
“Want you to bend me over,” Your voice is soft as you slowly start to bend over, arching your back “and make me take it hard.”
He is quick to get behind you, taking his dick in his hands and rubbing it up and down your wet slit. “my pretty fucking pussy” You push back at his teasing movements, clit pulsing and eyes rolling back.
“Mike please”, you beg. He brings his hand down and suddenly you feel a sharp sting on your ass, yelping in surprise. “Come on pretty girl, you can do better than that.”
“Daddy please, I need you- need your cock. Need you to fill me up and-” Your words were cut off, Mike pushing deep into you, moving quickly, causing you to lose your breath.
He grabs your hips and starts to pull you back onto him as he slams deep inside, hitting that spot inside you. “Fuck baby, taking it so good for me”
He grabs your hair in his hands, pulling your back to be flush to his chest. He nibbles at your earlobe and places his hand on your neck, squeezing lightly.
The feeling was unbearable, the room filled with deep breaths and skin on skin. Goosebumps cover your skin as Mike’s grip on your throat gets tighter. You could feel your orgasm approaching, tears forming in your eyes.
“Taking me so well baby” You moan, his praise pushing you closer. “Tight little pussy fits so well around my cock”
“Fuck- ‘m cumming” You feel your body unravel, thighs shaking as you start to see spots. Mike lets you go and you fall forward. He gives you three deep thrusts before his pace starts to fall, signaling he’s close. “Me too baby, me too”
He gives one last deep push and releases deep inside you. You both lay there for a few moments, panting and euphoric. He groans as he pulls out and you turn to lie on your side, watching him as he walks to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm washcloth, wiping you down. He sets it on the table once he’s finished and sits down beside you, moving your head so it can rest in his lap as he starts to play with your hair.
You lean up to kiss him, biting his lip as you pull away, smiling to yourself as you notice he’s growing hard again. You stand up, legs slightly wobbly. “Care to join me?” you smirked towards him as you sauntered towards the bathroom, hips slightly swinging. Mike watches as you walk away, eyes lingering all over your body. You turned to face him as you reached the doorway, waiting for him to follow you.
“We’re definitely going to take advantage of the late checkout” He chuckles as he stands from his spot to start round two in the shower.
#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt#mike schimdt x reader#fnaf#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson smut#nev writes
328 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii!!! I just read A Whiff of Blood and it was amazing!!! Omg its been a while since I read Lloyd being caring without having another motive. This is pure goodness 😍
I was wondering if there could be a scene where y/n asks to leave work early bc she has a date. Lloyd says fine but ends up at the same restaurant as her with Danny to spy🤣 and y/n saw them and this will be the first time she yells at her boss. how would the boss react? falling for her even more or trying to save his dignity and ego 😎
Hi babe! So sorry that this one-shot is taking forever to come out (and I've made a little adjustment to it :3 hope you don't mind
A Rush of Blood
Lloyd Hansen x You
Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader, Lloyd is being a (surprisingly) softie(?
Summary: You asked whether you could leave early for a date, while Lloyd decided not to keep his feelings bottled up any more.
W/C: ~4.5k
A/N: This is the final sequel to A Whiff of Blood, Thank you for all your love for Mob!Lloyd<333
Lloyd can’t help but look at your empty seat for the fifth time in a row. The boring-ass meeting for the quarterly revenue of his properties drags on, yet you haven’t returned for a while now.
Lloyd checks his watch.
It’s been fucking two minutes and forty-two seconds since you excused yourself with your phone buzzing in hand.
The ticking watch gets him more annoyed and impatient by the second. Two minutes and forty-four seconds, two minutes and forty-five seconds, two minutes and forty-six - where the heck are you?
You pick up the call as soon as you reach your desk, “Allie?”
“Hey hon. Bad news, I’m stuck at the airport. There has been a huge blizzard here in Alaska and all flights are banned from taking off.” Allie remains her chirpy sound, but a hit of restraint peeks from her words.
Allie has been your friend since high school. You’ve bonded over the mutual love of boy bands during your teen years. Though you have moved on from your love of pop singers/bands, Allie maintains her enthusiasm for K-pop idols.
“I’m in the middle of a conference, so, sorry about making this short,” you sigh, “I assume they can’t get any plane in or out for today?”
You scheduled for fine dining with Allie at one of Lloyd’s restaurants later this evening. At this rate, you are no longer surprised if he owns the Hollywood landmark too.
“Not in this damn weather, no.” She curses under her breath, “Not for three days as far as I’m aware.”
“Jesus.” You rub your temple as it is throbbing, “Sorry about the weather. I’ll reschedule the dinner.”
“No… don’t be.” Her hesitation on the phone sounds slightly suspicious.
“Allie?” You raise your voice dangerously, “What did you do?”
“Don’t be mad,” she holds a pregnant pause, “I’ve got this really cute boy – he’s a year behind us, by the way – and he’s working now in LA, Scott McCall – that’s double C in McCall, and I planned to introduce you two during dinner.”
“The fu- Allie!” You whisper-yell in the phone, “You’re gonna dump me and let me have dinner with a completely random person?”
Allie squeezes a few dry laughs over the speaker, “Eh- Sorry?”
“You better pray there’s no plane in three days because I’m going to crawl through the phone lines and strangle you if I have the chance.” You sputter a curse, “And burn all your K-pop albums.”
She gasps, “NOT THE ALBUMS!”
Typical Allie.
“Seriously though, you had the chance of meeting him two months ago... at an exhibition. The gallery downtown near the bakery? The Retro-modern Exhibition? The one you left early? It took him a lot of strength to get to me and then to you, so … just try, okay? If it doesn’t work out, it’s fine.” Allie sounds unlike her usual self, “If it works out … I guess you’d have a great story to tell your kids.” She can’t help but joke at the end.
“Yeah yeah, ha-ha, very funny.” With a sigh, you agree to her match-making plan, “Fine. But I really have to go back to work now, ‘kay?” You roll your eyes instinctively when the other end of the phone passes a squeaky “yes” to your ears, “I’ll be there on time. Dinner, six thirty, he’d better not be late.”
“You’re my life-saver. Mwah! Love ya’ bye!” After blowing a kiss via mid-air, Allie hangs up the phone as if fearing you will regret your decision in less than a second.
You end the call at the same moment the door to the conference room swings open, and out came a few executives for his real estate.
“Sorry, Mr. Hansen,” you put your phone into your pocket, straightening your shirt because you have been leaning on your desk. You know how much Lloyd hates disturbance, and creases on a shirt.
Lloyd purses his lips with a frown, an expression he wears often to indicate he’s not happy.
“If it’s okay for you, Mr. Hansen, I’d like to leave early today.” You request rather boldly.
For three years of your work as a secretary, the only other time you left early was a medical emergency of your mother. She fell down the stairs, hit her head, and had a broken femur. Though it wasn’t much of a big deal when she was transferred to a ward later, it scared the hell out of you to take the call from the local hospital, telling you your mother was sent to the ER in an ambulance.
Lloyd was generous enough to grant you a week of leave, but you got back on Day 5 after making sure your mother was well and taken care of.
“Is your family alright?” He asks, clearly still remembering the last time when you got kidnapped on the street, for which he had to assign Claire – a bright young lady, whom you’ve grown fond of over these past weeks – to act as your bodyguard and occasionally your assistant. Under Lloyd’s orders, she went to oversee the security cam installation at your apartment door.
“They are fine.” You suppose it’s better to tell him the truth regarding your leave, rather than having him meet you in his restaurant a few hours later, “I uh… have a date tonight.”
“A date?” He raises his eyebrows, repeating syllable by syllable, “A date, you say?”
“Yes, a date.” It feels like a betrayal all of a sudden, a betrayal of your work ethic. Your throat tightens, “Ahem, I’ll be leaving at five, if that’s alright with you, Mr. Hansen.”
Lloyd studies you for a moment.
“Okay.” He shrugs, sounding carelessly, “If you finish the work for today.”
You are pretty sure that there’s no more itinerary for either Hansen or you after this meeting, but you still play your role as a dutiful secretary and ask, “Anything else you would like me to do?”
“Call James and tell him to pick up the loan I gave out to the Dawson scum, five mil’ in cash or non-bearer bonds. If Dawson returns even one dime short, I want his arm broken. And deliver the drycleaning to my place by five tonight. Tell my butler, while you’re at it, he can hold off the repair down at the basement, this can wait till January. And,” he pauses, “I want you to tell Dani, head to her place personally, and tell her that I’m cancelling the Cuban appointment.”
“Yes, Mr. Hansen.” You pick up the landline straight away, ready to dial James’ number.
“You are not taking any notes whatsoever.” Lloyd narrows his eyes, “What are the tasks I just gave you?”
Lloyd seems extra grumpy today, plus you are not a note-taker anyway. You cover the speaker with your palm, though puzzled as to why he’s moody all of a sudden, but comply with his demands, “Call James, collect the debt from Dawson; get the drycleaning to your house by five, and tell your butler Marlin not to rush on the basement repair; and lastly, tell Dani you’re cancelling the Cuban appointment.” And you have no clue what this “Cuban” appointment is. Darn, Lloyd does keep a whole lot of secrets from you, “Anything else, Mr. Hansen?”
Fuck.
He sounds like fucking Cinderella’s stepmom dumping beans into the fireplace. Since when did he get off on ordering you around doing meaningless chores? He could perfectly do them himself, not to mention some of the biddings he has just told you were unnecessary – the basement repair? It was a damn doorknob getting stuck, not a pipeline that leaks like a faucet.
“Claire’s not here, take Avik with you.” He grumbles, returning to his office and slamming the door shut.
Avik is a silent, tanned man who often acts as Lloyd’s muscle. He emerges from thin air – or probably from some corner, standing rigidly behind you like a statue.
“Hey Avik, mind if I drive?” You put a warm smile on your face, swinging the car key on your finger.
Avik merely nods, gesturing that he’ll walk in front of you.
After picking up Lloyd’s drycleaning and telling Marlin the exact words from Lloyd's mouth, you head off to your next assignment.
Dani.
Dani is a woman approximately your age, speaks fluent Spanish, English, and Italian, probably a couple of other languages that you couldn’t understand too, and rumored to be Lloyd’s ex.
She is a charming lady living in a mansion away from the glamourous nightlife of LA, but not shy of parties. In fact, you’ve accompanied Lloyd to a few that she hosts, and if you ever need a party planner, she would be your No. 1 choice – if you can afford it.
You tap on the steering wheel somewhat anxiously, checking your watch. It’s five to six, and Dani’s residence is halfway across the city, and you have yet to finish the job that Lloyd told you to.
It feels like double standards when you explicitly told Allie that your date cannot be late.
Dani’s lovely butler, Mrs. Santos invited you in, leading you to the guest room.
“To what do I own this honor of having Lloyd’s personal assistant arriving at my place?” Dani flips her hair and giggles.
“Lloyd has sent me to tell you that,” you still remember the strange code phrase word by word, “He’s cancelling the Cuban appointment.”
Dani carefully studies you for a moment, before bursting out laughter, “He… He said that? The Cuban appointment?”
Darn, even when she’s laughing, she’s charming as always.
“Yes.” You answer her question, “If there’s no message you want me to forward to him, I’ll be out of your hair.”
Dani hangs a mysterious smile on the corner of her lips, her honey-toned skin practically gleaming as she speaks, “None. But if you don’t mind me asking, do you have any plans for tonight? I want to borrow you for one of my parties – you know,” she shrugs, “connections and all that.”
Dani’s parties are always filled with delightful cocktails and exquisite people she knows from all over the world. It’s a perfect chance to refresh your connections with all sorts of people – thieves, CEOs, fences, politicians - part of the reason why she asked you to stay.
Yet, you were already booked for tonight.
“Sorry,” you politely rejected, “I’d love to, but I have a date tonight.”
“Well, you-” Dani points at you with her perfectly manicured finger, sounding cheerful, “are welcome at my place, anytime. You can bring your date here even, if you need a place to chill.”
“Thank you, Dani.” You respond, “Have fun at your party.”
Dani cocks her head to the side. The bright flashy diamond earrings peek from under her hair, swaying as if they were about to fall. She hums thoughtfully before wishing you a pleasant evening.
As soon as you step out of her estate, Dani picks up her phone and dials Lloyd’s number, “I recall a certain someone claims that he needs absolutely no help landing a girl,” She twirls her hair around her fingertips, chuckling, “the Cuban appointment, Lloyd? Wow, you must be really desperate. Now, you want me to help you sabotage her date? That I can do...”
With Lady Luck by your side, you’ve successfully reached the restaurant five minutes early with someone already at your table, while Avik sits at a table on the other side of the aisle, keeping an eye on you.
“You must be Scott.” You pull your chair to sit, trying your best to ignore the bulk of muscles on your righthand-side, watching as the young man across the table hastily puts down his water glass and stands abruptly with his face flushed.
“H… Hi.” He can barely stop the grin on his face, “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
Allie is right. He is cute.
Scott scratches the back of his head, plopping down on his seat, asking hesitantly, “If this is not too intrusive, how did you get a reservation? My friend has been dying to try this place for a week and the nearest spot available is three months later.”
“My boss is a close friend of the restaurant manager.” Lloyd practically runs this place. The manager gets scared shitless every time he needs to deliver the quarterly books to Lloyd and he asks you to do it in his place. Hence, he’s greatly in your debt. But you are not going to tell Scott you work for the largest gang in the city, so you feign your interest and ask, “What about you? Allie didn’t tell me what you do for a living.”
His face goes flushed pink again, “I uh… I work as an assistant curator,” he adds, “but I paint.”
“Oh really? That sounds fun. What do you paint?”
Scott chats on and on about his love for contemporary art and various ways of making a beautiful moment permanent when you notice Avik stands up and leaves.
“… sorry,” you apologize to Scott, for you have missed the question he asks, having paid too much attention to the bodyguard Avik who doesn’t seem like returning, “what was that again?”
Scott shuts his mouth momentarily before managing a small smile, “I was just thinking that we should get the waiter. Is there anything you like on the menu?”
The food was divine, and the wine was savory too. Though the waiters seemed a little distracted – you guessed it was probably their boss telling them to stay away from your table for you to enjoy your date. After exchanging pleasant conversations, you know it’s time to end this lovely date.
Before getting the check and leaving, you excuse yourself to freshen up.
Scott nods with his curls bouncing.
Scott is nice.
He is smart, funny, and cute with his untamed curls.
You put on a thin layer of lipstick. Looking into the mirror, the polite smile breaks away when you watch your reflection.
Scott is a decent guy. Why don’t you like him?
A vague outline rises in your head, before evaporating.
Stop it. You tell yourself. Scott is a nice guy. You should enjoy this date.
Only when your figure disappears behind a few tables, did someone sit on your spot.
“Evening.” A moustache man traces his finger on the cup from which you drank, crossing his legs, “Scotty, right?”
Scott clenches his hand on the arm of his chair, but Avik appears quietly behind him, grabbing his shoulders to have him sit down. A hard piece of metal is pressed to the back of his head. It doesn’t take much common sense to understand that Avik has a gun pointing at him.
“Don’t get all flustered,” Lloyd pours some wine into both glasses, “I’m just here to… be nice.” A wicked grin creeps up his lips as Lloyd continues, “The woman who you’re dating tonight?”
Scott gulps, squeezing a “yeah” out of his teeth.
“That’s my girl.” Lloyd dead-pans, massaging the light smudge of your lipstick on the glass, “So, if you have any wrong idea, or any thoughts about her…” Lloyd has a cold gleam in his eyes, shakes his head and tuts, “Don’t.”
Poor Scott has his face drained of colors. His lips quivering, “I-I’m not- I don’t want to be part of this…”
“Good.” Lloyd smirks. Drinking from your glass, he licks his lips to savour the sweet honey taste of your lipstick, before giving his final order, “Now be a good boy, say your ‘nighty night’s, and get the fuck out of my turf.”
“Boss.” Avik’s eyes dart to the lavatory, signalling that you are approaching this table.
“Aaaand that’s my cue.” Lloyd stands up from the chair, looking content, “Keep this little interaction between us, will ya’?” He pouts, “I’d hate if she gets upset.”
By the time you reach this table, Scott sweats in buckets like he has just been to a sauna.
“Is everything alright?” You can’t help but ask.
“Yeah… yeah.” Scott could barely mask his trembling voice, or keep his eye contact, “I’m … feeling uncomfortable… right now.”
“Is it the food? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
“No… I mean, I think so. The asparagus was raw.” Scott wipes the sweat off his pale face, “It’s been lovely, but …”
Your eyes dart to the table where Avik was sitting. Nope, he isn’t there. For a second you thought that Avik might have terrorized Scott into backing out. Such a stupid idea, why would Avik do that? You throw this thought to the back of your head, before suggesting if Scott needs a lift home, or to the hospital.
Scott nearly jumps from his spot upon hearing the offer, which confuses you as he avoids speaking or looking at you, as if you were a plague.
He takes his belongings, bids you good night before sprinting out of the restaurant.
What the fuck have you done???
You trouble yourself with the question when Avik returns to your side without a single sound, “Avik, I was wondering where you’ve been.”
“The backroom where I can observe the surveillance footage, ma’am.” His voice booms, “Shall I drive you home?”
“Yes, I suppose.” You sigh.
Avik gestures for you to walk, but you stop in your tracks.
“Avik?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Did you have any food yet?”
You did not see him ordering anything when he was sitting across the aisle, nor do you believe that he’d risk losing his job over some half-cooked asparagus.
“… No Ma’am.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. The exhaustion of trying to satisfy Lloyd’s tasks and doubting whether he’s being paranoid again takes over you for so long, you seem to lose a little bit of human emotions – neglecting dutiful Avik, as a result.
“Sorry about that, Avik.” You apologize, feeling slightly better that you’ve come to your senses after a long day, “I’ll have them prepare something vegan for takeaway.”
“…thank you, Ma’am.”
Grabbing a waiter passing by, you tell him about your request, before resting on your chair.
Out of sheer boredom, you tap on your glass, scraping the lipstick smudge off the crystal-clear surface with a used napkin.
Avik coughs as if he has just choked on his own spit.
“Everything alright, Avik?”
It seems like you’ve said this for the second time tonight.
“Yes. Ahem. Yes, all is well.” Avik clears his throat uncomfortably.
“Because you can totally have tonight off. I’m more than capable of driving home myself.” You offer sweetly, expecting him to take the suggestion and leave you here.
“Thank you, Ma’am.” Avik replies rigidly, his shirt collar tightening around his tanned skin as he speaks, “Thank you, but your safety is my priority.”
You should have known better than to negotiate with Lloyd’s muscle. They follow his orders like workers around a queen bee. Pursing your lips together, you decide not to spend time bargaining with Avik, but scroll on social media to distract yourself.
Avik lets out a long, slow exhale when you are focusing on your phone. He’s great at bodyguarding, but terrible at being a double agent.
The takeaway package arrives shortly – or it could be you are too tied up in the TikTok drama to notice time slipping away from the tip of your fingers. Avik takes the wheel while you sit in the back, trying hard not to think about the sudden change in Scott’s attitude.
It’s not like you don’t enjoy Scott’s company. You do. But Scott’s dashing out of the restaurant leaves a certain impression that you don’t think you’d forget anytime soon. Maybe the food was raw. Or burned. Or he had some pills. Still, it doesn’t explain why he ran out of the place like a bloodhound was chasing him.
Or is there something wrong with you? Something he’d grow repulsive of?
“Stop the car, please.” The thoughts in your head are preventing you from breathing. With Avik’s puzzled frown in the rearview mirror, you shrug, “You can go park the car. I want to have a little walk and some fresh air.”
After what must be an internal debate in Avik’s silence, he slowly stops at the curb, agreeing for you to have your fresh air.
The street is silent, not a living soul in sight. You close your eyes and breathe in the fresh air.
Oh well, maybe the air is not so fresh after all, with the smell of gasoline and dust and … smoke?
You turn around.
Lloyd’s Rolls-Royce follows you like a toddler in small steps, with a hand outstretched from the window that flicks his cigarette stub to the curb.
“Mr. Hansen?” You could’ve been dreaming. Why would Lloyd’s car follow you? Why – “What are you doing here?”
Lloyd steps out of the vehicle, popping a peppermint into his mouth. Crushing the candy with his jaw, he mumbles, “Just having a late-night stroll.”
A ridiculous idea comes into mind, and you ask in disbelief: “Are you following me?”
“No.” Lloyd stares at you straight into your eyes, but you’ve seen him lie better, “This is my turf. And you can’t ban me from patrolling my own territory.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes.
Sure. Patrolling. Very convincing. He just happened to stumble in front of your apartment building among hundreds of thousands of streets.
“Of course.” Maybe it’s the wine, because for crying out loud you would be tongue-tied if you were to say this at work, but the sarcasm drips out of your tone like water out of a broken faucet, because you are not in the mood. At all. “Good night, Mr. Hansen.”
“I had a great night.” Since he counts the scurrying of one horny young man as a win, Lloyd casually drops, “Can’t say the same about you.”
What the heck is wrong with him?
Now it’s definitely the wine that does the talking, as you poke him square in the chest with your index finger, your voice littered with fury, “It’s after-hours, and you don’t own my after-hours, in case you don’t have a watch, okay?”
Lloyd offers his characteristic lop-sided smile, “What - you’re gonna buy me one?”
“No?!” You huff out in disbelief. Has he taken hallucinating drugs? Why on earth is he acting funny? “This is not - look, Mr. Hansen-”
Lloyd steps closer. You get that whiff of smoke from his body, and the musky cologne that he occasionally uses in rare circumstances, and your words somehow get stuck in your throat.
“Lloyd.” He pronounces his name, loud and clear, “C’mon sunshine, lllllloyd.”
Lloyd. The name rolls to the tip of your tongue. It feels natural and soft, unlike Lloyd Hansen himself. But the syllable drives your heartbeat wild. He is your boss. You are obligated to call him Mr. Hansen.
Well, maybe not obligated. But you would feel more comfortable calling him Mr. Hansen. The name Lloyd sounds like an over-step of your work relationship.
Your work. Your beloved secretary job. Which is fine. Which you enjoy, as you handle his affairs with some effort. But the name. He’s asking you to call him Lloyd and that sounds more intimate than what you should be calling your boss.
“I- ” You are at a loss of words. What does he want? Does he want you to be his mistress? Which is ridiculous, because you don’t want to be the type of canary living in a birdcage and sing for him whenever he pleases. More importantly, he cannot be having thoughts about you – or does he want this to be a one-night thing where he could pull up his pants and comment on how long since he had a good fuck?
-stop it. It’s an insane thought. He’s not interested. So are you.
You accidentally look at his eyes, and you recognize the burning desire rooting deep down. It scorches you instantly as your eyes meet, before you lower your head to avoid the demanding gaze.
“You’re my boss…” You mutter weakly, knowing well that this stupid excuse does not prevent you from enjoying (or feeling safe at) Lloyd’s presence – most of the time, when he’s not bloody or throwing punches – or from the plain fact that maybe, just maybe that you feel a little different towards him, and that for the briefest of moments, you wished that he was sitting across the dinner table tonight, taking you out on a date.
Lloyd’s expression goes still for a second.
You can’t tell whether he’s mad or upset.
He sighs, taking a step towards you to close the space between you two, before framing your face in his hands and whispering in frustration, “God, you’re so dumb.”
His lips are soft, contrary to his mean words. They land on you with a bitter taste of burned tobacco, as his tongue swipes the seam of your lips, forcing an embarrassing mewl out of you.
It felt like Lloyd and his roughness. It felt like an iceberg breaking into chucks, whales lifting their head to breathe and the dam that withholds feelings inside your head cracks. It felt … right.
He slowly breaks away the kiss, sighing again, right next to your lips, his moustache making your cheek itch.
“Am I about to get a kick in the balls?” He asks softly, nose gently rubbing on yours.
“No…no.” Not that you don’t want to, because how dares he! Following you and kissing you like that! But because your head turning into a warm mush.
“Good.” He nibbles on your lips, you can feel his lips curving into a smile, “ ’cause I kinda like them.”
“Hmm?”
“Never mind.” He lands another kiss on you before pulling away. The bad-boy grin visible on his face.
You feel like you need to say something. Anything. So, you open your mouth and: “Do you want … a cup of coffee at my place?”
Lloyd cocks his eyebrows in surprise, but there’s no way he’d let slip of this chance, “Sure, why not.”
The mush in your brain refuses to leave. Your body acts on auto-pilot, leading you away from him.
You don’t even notice that he’s not following you this time, until he calls your name out of the blue, with a hint of amusement in his tone.
“Yes, Mr. Hansen?”
Lloyd decides to let slip of your poor choice of words this time, simply pointing his thumb in the other direction: “Your home is this way.”
Taglist (Also tagging those who might be interested): @stargazingfangirl18 @sarahdonald87 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @magnificentsaladllama @biteofcherry @petalj @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @thezombieprostitute @yiiiikesmish @warriorblu @vonalyn @notathingjustthere @lokislady82 @irishhappiness @toozmanykids @alicedopey @cakesandtom @universitypenguin @openup-yourmind @helenaeisenhower @wilsons-striped-ties @tittittoee @bean-is-reading @yearningforsappho @esposadomd @salvatoreitmeanssaviour
Find A Whiff of Blood Masterlist here 👈
Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂
#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen fluff#lloyd hansen fanfiction#lloyd hansen fic#mob!lloyd hansen#the gray man#a whiff of blood
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crowley's Effect on Reality
There is a headcanon that has been rattling around in my coconut for about a year, and now I've added to it. It's canon that Crowley has a reality-altering effect on his immediate surroundings; we see it in the cafe where he meets Shadwell and the TVs are showing The Witchfinder. Or when "You're My Best Friend" is playing in the Bentley and follows him into the burning bookshop to play on the gramophone. (Cinematography so seamless it actually took me several watches to notice, bless them all.)
So I've been wondering how far that extends, and I got to thinking about the baby swap. Crowley gives the baby to Sister Mary and tells her to take him to Room 3. Mary says this to Sister Grace, who tells her to get on with it, then. But Grace was the one who put the Youngs in Room 3! She of all the nuns should have been like, Wait a minute.
The obvious answer is obviously the nuns aren't bright and/or are too used to following orders to question it. But it would have made more sense to just have some random nun there, not the one most likely to catch a mix up before it happened. So this makes me wonder if it's not Crowley's ambient reality warp in action. Instead of playing a song reflecting his mood or a movie that reminds him of someone, the world is reflecting his deepest wish: he wants something to go wrong. Something that will give the world a fighting chance and ideally can't be traced directly back to him.
So that's what's been kicking around in my brain for about a year, and after watching season two and thinking about how RIDICULOUSLY OVERPOWERED these two idiots are, I'm starting to wonder how often this has happened before. A tiny little surreptitious half miracle set off alarms in heaven and works so well that it sends the most powerful angel in heaven racing to the scene to get control of the situation. That was a conscious effort; what have they gotten away with without even knowing what they were doing?
"I've been looking over your previous exploits" and what did you see, Metabitch? Did you see an angel and a demon hornswoggle the entire Host to save a couple of human children? Did you look more closely and wonder why even Michael (who is significantly sharper than Gabriel even on his best days) was taken in by their embarrassingly transparent magic act?
Then there's 1941, and I know there's a miracle blocker in the room when Aziraphale steals the photo, but does that work if it's unconscious? Bc it's not something they're trying to do, it's not a force of will being inflicted on reality; it's reality bending to reflect their wishes. Would a miracle blocker work? Genuinely do not know.
Season Two did NOT spend enough time talking about the power they can access together, we know almost nothing about it, and I think that's deliberate. I'm so fucking stoked for the next season, make it happen make it real.
#good omens#aziraphale#crowley#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#good omens 2#good omens season 2#crowley x arizaphale#aziraphale my beloved#good omens meta#25 lazarii#fan theory
349 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Top 5 BL Kisses of Jan (& Feb) 24 + why
Okay, okayyyyy I'm doing this, no backing out. I offically accept that analyzing kisses takes up so much of my brainspace that I can write about it — so here it goes. I'M NOT HIDING ANYMORE BUT OWNING UP TO IT! (lol, chill)
Last year I complained that I didn't get a single perfect kiss since I started watching BL TV shows (until PhayaTharn turned up) and now we're not even a quarter into the new year and I already got FIVE I'm absolutely in AWE about!! FIVE!!
I don't know if it's the actors, directors or coaches who upped their game (probably all of them) but hot damn, all of these are beautiful.
And don't ask me why I'm into kiss-acting so much I have no fucking clue, my first guess is that it's an artform in itself to make this amazing, wonderful, intimate form of touching look as beautiful as it feels — bc let's be honest here, irl kissing rarely looks pretty no matter how great it is! So I think it's just dope when you can see this beauty translated on screen.
So I guess this is peak romance genre for me and with that being said, enough talking, lets get to the kissykissies!
5. TenPrem - Cooking Crush EP. 11
I have to be honest with you, I was a bit confused by the kissing in this show. The tippytoe kiss was cute as heck but we all saw how Off AND Gun awkwardly blinked because they probably had to stay like that for a looooong time. It took the whole magic out of the whole first-kiss-moment. Same with the forced in, reshot makeout-scenes. But the kiss in the kitchen? Looks like they FINALLY got to show what they got.
Ten gently pulling Prem closer, them smoothly moving against each other, Ten closing in even more, the slightly open-mouthed kiss with their lips perfectly caressing each other, Ten with a bit more force, Prem with a bit more heat resulting in the perfect mix...Loved it, mwah.
4. PromNont - Playboyy EP. 12
They are my one Playboyy-couple where I'm like "if they don't end up married and running Playboyy together, starting the revolution of well-payed, insured and safe sex workers I'm gonna riot" even though I know this show will not end nicely for ANYONE.
Anyways, this kiss. Holy smokes they had so many good scenes but this one took the cake. Not just the sheer length of it (but still with perfect timing and breaks).
The slightest suck on Nonts upper lip, Prem literally making Nont sway, Nonts hidden desperation for Prom surfacing from his lips, them slowly but surely turning up the heat and last but not least, Prom grabbing Nonts face just to lean against him...UGH THEM!
(I made those)
3. Myungha & Yeowoon - Love for Love's Sake EP 8
I know I'm not alone in how this show swept me off my feet and hit me right in the feels. But I've gotta say, this kiss hit completely different. Again they kissed for so long but not a single moment felt wasted. It felt like their whole story put in a single kiss. And — I mean that in the most loving and positive way possible — they kissed so amazingly gay. Do you know what I mean?!
There's just this level of love, care and happiness that only queer couples can convey. Sprinkled with a hint of tongue (I saw that Yeowoon 👀) — they absolutely nailed it.
2. AlanJeff - Pit Babe EP. 11
The kiss that made me consider doing this post in the first place. I saw them and shouted THIS IS PERFECT just to realize that I did this a few weeks ago already and it made me spiral a little. In the best way possible because I felt truly blessed once again to have discovered the genre of BL in their golden era!
Because this right here is how you nail an open mouthed kiss my friends. Take notes BL producers. Put this in your textbooks! They both go at the same rythm (slow, careful but so, so loving JUST LIKE THEIR RELATIONSHIP UGH) and same level of touch so their lips caress each other perfectly. Furthermore, Alan knows exactly how to meet Jeff which is also a PERFECT EXTENSION OF HIS CHARACTER! Alan leads, Jeff follows but they meet perfectly and equally. TEN OUT OF TEN NO NOTES!
1. PhayaTharn - The Sign EP. 9
I don't understand the meaning of the "Roman Empire"-thing but I think if I say they are mine, I am correct because they will be the end of me and that's what that means right? I may be biased AF but objectively speaking, this is just an insanely well acted-out scene, PERIOD! And we all know it's thanks to Billybabes out-of-this-world-chemistry!
Phayas desperation translated into this gorgeous lip-clash, so much yearning but softness at the same time but what really got to me was how Tharn immediately melted after their lips touched, how he immediately opened up to him and got completely overwhelmed by Phayas feelings. Chapeau to Babe for showing so much range in a single second. My favorite kiss of the whole series ❤️
I also just realized all these kisses have one thing in common....hands on faces lol.
Well that was fun peeps, thanks if you made it until the end!
#cooking crush#tenprem#playboyy the series#promnont#love for love's sake#love supremacy zone#myungha x yeowoon#pit babe the series#alanjeff#the sign the series#phayatharn
126 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiiii
Can I request a Bakugo (Cuz let’s be honest, he is FINE AS HELL) x gn! Reader who’s very socially awkward?
Like, if anyone they don’t know tries to talk to them they’ll just be like🧍♂️and give them that classic awkward smile
yes!!!! i relate to this reader sm and also I 100% agree bakugo is so fucking fine like??????? he's a fucking 2d character from a style where theporportions arent even based on humans, he has unmanaged anger issues and will fucking explode and not in the joking sense and yet????/ like whoever made hi design TEL ME YOUR WAYS. he's so fucking pretty. but also as much as I love him jeanist did him so fucking dirty with that hair. jeanist looked at *THAT* and really said "I can fix him"??? bitch don't fucking fix him I like the explosive pomeranian bitch. but like that one scene when he was making fun of todoroki during the provisional license extras classes like bro I was watching with my siblings and had to aggressively hold back a fucking screach noise. AND I STILL DO WHENEVER I WACTH IT. he's a fucking anime character who is so damn unhealthy but if you cant tell by the length of this, I fucking love him.
reader: GN
characters: bakugo katsuki
summary: reader is a very much not people person so how the fuck are they dating bakuhoe out of all bitches
warnings: swearing if you couldnt tell. anxiety, mentions of anxiety attacks. bakugo being a bitch.
💥- okay honestly, first day? didnt even know you were in the class.
💥- this mf too focused on beating everyone up to notice you.
💥- was forced to acknowledge you when you kiri and bakuhoe were in the same area during the usj attack.
💥- after yall beat the shit out of some ppl you were sweating a ton but not bc you just fought some bitches.
💥- your ass was panicked af, not only are you shoved in a small space with two extroverts, you're also being exxesivley complimented by Kirishima bc you punched someone and along with that the fucking usj is under attack.
💥- it was very obvious you were panicking tbh.
💥- like bakuhoe at this point doesnt give a shit about other peoples feelings at this point but even he could tell.
💥- you were just standing there with you r arms pinned to your sides staring into the distance as Kirishima was obsessing oever how you beat someone up.
💥- after the usj he started to notive you more often.
💥- he noticed hpw evenn when the whole class was close with each other, you were still extremely quiet.
💥- he noticed how awkward you were even when talking to your friends.
💥- he noticed how youd speak up if your friends were being rude to you but the moment someone like monoma said something you just shut down.
💥- he even noticed how panicked you were when you learned about the internships.
💥- during the sports festival you both fought one on one, that's when he truly noticed how awkward you were.
💥- like bro was beating the shit out of you while yelling shit like "say something damnit!"
💥- honestly even though he wouldve won anyways, the round ended faster due to your panic with him yelling n shit.
💥- bro was thinking about it more and was like "damn. but like why were they kinda cute."
💥- first thoughts?
💥- immediete denial.'
💥- bakugo thought his time would be something like loud and outgoging, someone whos super confident.
💥- then saw you who was about to have a fuckinh panic attack and was like:
💥- i want that one.
💥- honestly ur crush on him was not obvious at all, you were just your normal panicky self but this time with slightly more blush.
💥- honestly you guys didnt get together until someone had to word it to make it seem like they were challenging bakugo to confess.
💥- will fight someone for you.
💥- monoma insulted you? 3 days of house arrest for bakuhoe.
💥- someone judged you? explosions.
💥- cashier looked at you wrong? banned from the convenience store for the next 6 months.
💥- congrats on your new scary dog privledges.
💥- mf so fucking protective tbh
💥- its not that he doesnt think you cant fight for yourself, he knows you can beat anyone to a pulp. i mean like- you're in the hero course for gods sake man.
💥- more in the sense of, distant jealousy. you wont know he's jealous, but whoever is talking to you thats making him jealous will know.
not my best work but i wanted to type something lol.
#bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bnha x gn!reader#mha x gn!reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugo x gn!reader
125 notes
·
View notes
Text
roles reversed
a/n: I don't know what to say about this lmao idk what possessed me when I wrote this okay. again horrendously bad at titles
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 3.3k 🤡🫣
warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, oral (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), edging, sub!steve, also dad!steve bc I said so
“You all set, kiddo?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Got your backpack?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Brushed your teeth?”
“Yes, Daddy!” your four year old squealed now, at Steve’s incessant badgering.
You watched the scene before you unfold, your daughter perched between your legs as you braided her hair ready for her weekend at Aunt Robin’s. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you watched Steve pace around the kitchen, hands on his hips. Domesticity really did suit him.
“Alright, all done, bug.” you said with a pat to her tiny shoulders and a kiss to her head, “Now go give Daddy a hug and kiss goodbye.”
Your daughter lept off the chair and skipped over to Steve, where he scooped her up in his arms. He spun her around as she squealed and giggled, pressing kisses all over her face. Your features turned soft, eyes all fond at the family you’d made for yourselves.
Robin arrived a few minutes later, barrelling your kid off into her car, promising her the most fun weekend of her life with her favourite aunt. She teased you and Steve as you stood in the doorway, urging you both not to get up to too much mischief during your weekend alone.
You all said your goodbyes, waving and blowing kisses to your baby as Robin reversed out of your drive. Steve’s lips were pressed to your temple as you sighed, that little pang to your heart that always came back with a vengeance when your friends would offer to take your daughter out for the day, or you would drop her with your Mom for the night.
Closing your front door behind you with a click, you slouched against the wood, Steve’s eyes trained on you carefully.
“So, what do you want to do with all this alone time?” you simply asked him.
He chuckled, stepping ever closer to you, “You.” was all he said, his large hands coming to rest on your waist.
You rolled your eyes at him, tutting, “Is this why you begged Robin to babysit this weekend? So you could get into my pants, Harrington?” Your arms encircled his neck now, fingers toying with the messy strands at the back of his head.
“What?” Steve feigned hurt, “A guy can’t want to fuck his beautiful wife, no?”
You giggled at his statement, “I never said that.”
It was true, it had been a while since you and Steve had an ounce of time alone together. No time for hands to wander and explore skin they had memorised, no heated make out sessions wherever you pleased without being interrupted by your daughter’s tiny cries.
“Do you want to go out tonight?” he asked, his nose skimming the slope of your own, his lips barely brushing over yours, “You could put on a pretty dress, get a nice dinner, hm?” Steve kissed you properly now, it was soft, sensual, sweet, “Let me spoil you.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, his low sultry tone, voice like velvet, but you could think of nothing worse right now. Features twisting in conflict, your fingers drumming on the back of his neck.
“Could- could we do that tomorrow?” you spoke quietly, eyelashes fluttering up at your husband, “I kinda just wanna be lazy today,” you shrugged your shoulders, “with you.”
Steve chuckled, hands skimming up and down your waist, a kiss to your forehead, “Sure, we can do whatever you want, honey.”
And you did. You lazed on your couch all day, laying inbetween Steve’s sweatpant clad legs, nursing whatever junk food you had in the house. Doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company. When it came time for dinner, Steve ordered your favourite takeout accompanied with a bottle of wine, a random movie popped into the VCR only to serve as background noise.
Your head lay on his chest, his arm slung around your shoulders as he pulled you in close, his lips pressing kisses into your hairline as your fingers drew shapes on his thigh absentmindedly. They danced up the length of the muscle, skimming over his hips before delving underneath his t-shirt, nails scratching lightly at the happy trail that disappeared underneath the waistband.
Steve tensed at the gesture, his hand squeezing your shoulder in response. Your fingers continued their ministrations over his stomach as you shifted your chin to get a better look at him.
He pinched your chin between his finger and thumb, raising his brows at your pout, “What, sweetheart?”
Your eyes bore into his big brown ones, warm and inviting, “Kiss me.” was all you said.
The man all but smirked at you, hand coming to cup your cheek now, warm thumb stroking over the soft skin there before he lent into you. Steve’s plush pink lips encasing your own, skin tingling and mouth watering. Your fingers reached up into his hair, tugging at the unkempt strands. Steve groaned a little at the feeling, he kissed you harder now, nose prodding into your cheek.
You took the hint to push him a little further, moving to swing your leg over his thighs so you were straddling him on the couch. Steve’s hands came to rest on your ass, large hands squeezing the flesh over your cotton shorts. You licked into Steve, tongue pushing into his mouth to mix with his own, feeling the strain of his hardening cock below his sweatpants making you feel a little dizzy.
Your hands were everywhere, tugging on his hair, pushing on his chest, balling up the fabric of his shirt into your fists. Steve couldn’t think straight, his brain essentially mush, his hips rutting up into yours as he pushed yours down to meet his own thrusts. He felt needy, desperate.
Chest heaving and breath panting, you broke the kiss. Your eyes were glazed over with lust, desire, gaze flicking to Steve’s kiss-bitten lips and wild hair. You stood from his lap, fingers lacing with his own as he followed suit.
“Lets go to bed,” you whispered, leading him out of the room as you started up the stairs.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Steve quipped, spinning you around so he could plant his lips on yours again, walking you down the hall to your bedroom. You let him have this slither of control, his hands squeezing your hips as he kissed you with fever.
You smirked into the kiss pushing him back onto the plush mattress, his body hitting the sheets with an oopmf. Steve saw the change in your eyes, your usual piliant flicker now a controlling glint. A dark haze clouded your gaze as you crawled atop Steve once more.
Steve’s personality was dominating. The need to care for and protect those he cared for often transferred into the bedroom. Which you never complained about, he had you writhing and coming undone beneath him more times than you could remember. Sometimes though your roles reversed, and Steve was more than happy to submit to you.
Settling into his lap you pushed his shirt up his abdomen, lips pressing chaste kisses on the scars and freckles that decorated his skin. You pushed the fabric more before Steve did the rest for you, throwing the garment to the floor. Your hands revelled in the newly exposed skin, lip and hands exploring.
“Fuck,” he breathed below you, “can- can I touch you, baby?” his voice was shaky, breath heavy and cheeks pink, “Please?”
You gnawed on your lip, nodding in response, “Yeah, you can touch me, Stevie.” you hushed, discarding your own shirt before reaching for Steve’s hands to place them on your tits.
Steve groaned at the pet name you only used in times like these, the feel of your breasts in his hands, fingers squeezing and groping, finger and thumb rolling a nipple between. A soft moan escaped your lips as you keened above him.
Your hips rolled over his once more, lips connecting with the skin of his neck, skirting along the scruff of his jaw before settling on that spot just below his ear lobe, teeth sucking a mark he’d jokingly scold you for later.
“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, honey,” Steve admitted with a breathy chuckle, hands rubbing up and down your bare back. Steve’s words were sticky sweet, saccharine that went straight to your pussy.
“Mhm,” was all you replied, standing again from his lap to rid yourself of your shorts and underwear and you swore you heard Steve’s breath hitch in his throat. His tongue slithered out from his lips, licking over the red skin at your bare body.
“Want you to eat my pussy, Stevie,” you delcared, pulling on his sweatpants now, thankful that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His pretty pink cock springing free, a hiss left his lips at the cool air, “that okay, baby?”
Steve nodded fervently, hands reaching out to bring you closer to him.
“Ah, ah,” you tsked, “lay back down.” you demanded and Steve was sweating. Cock painfully hard and leaking already. Eyes wide and mouth agape as you climbed over his chest, cunt inching ever closer to his waiting mouth.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned as you lowered yourself over him, his arms encirlcing your thighs as your hands came to grip the headboard above your bed. One hand coming to swipe the stray strands out of his face,
“Go ‘head, baby.”
Steve needed no further instruction, tongue darting out to lick into you like there was no tomorrow. He ate your pussy like a man starved, swapping between curling his tongue into your entrance and sucking on your throbbing clit. His spit mixing with your click, surely making a mess of his pretty face.
You mewled above him, hand coming to grasp and play with your tits, tweaking your nipple just right, “Makin’ me feel so good, Stevie,” you whined, “so good at this, making my cunt drip all over you.”
He groaned right into you, his ministrations sending vibrations right up your spine, your coil winding tighter and tighter. You glanced down at him, Steve’s eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowed, focused, on licking and sucking everywhere he knew you liked best.
Hips rocking absentmindedly, essentially using Steve’s mouth to get you over the edge, his nose bumping your clit with every roll, “Shit,” you wailed, fingers fully tugging on his brunette locks to hold him in place as you fucked yourself on his tongue.
His hands squeezed the fat of your hips now, pads of his fingers digging into the flesh there, his bruising grip surely to leave a mark. His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of you using him how you damned well pleased, hips rutting up into thin air behind you. And Steve swore he could have cum right there and then.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you mumbled, hips now dragging your pussy over the flat of his pudgy tongue, the tip of his nose stroking your clit just right, the sight of his wild hair and dreamy brown eyes boring into your own essentially getting you over the line.
You writhed above him, head thrown back as your orgasm peaked, mumbles of fuck and just like that and yes, Stevie, all tumbling past your lips in a jumble of pants and moans. Steve kept licking and sucking until you couldn’t take any more, the overstimulation too much.
Moving off his mouth, you slid down his chest, sitting pretty on his stomach as you lent back on your palms. Chest heaving and forehead sticky with sweat, you took a minute to catch your breath.
The tip of Steve’s cock brushed against your back and he winced, throbbing and heavy. His palms came to rest on your thighs, stroking soothingly, snapping your gaze back to him.
“Kiss?” he asked, voice minute, and you giggled not being able to resist. So you leant back up now, hands braced on the smattering of hair across his chest as you pressed your lips together. You sighed at the taste of yourself on him, the wet feel of your slick covering his mouth and chin, glistening in the low light of the room.
“Baby,” he whined, “shit, you gotta- you need to touch me or something,” his hips canting upwards, his dick rubbing over the swell of your ass, “‘m gonna fuckin’ explode. Christ.”
You giggled at him and Steve could have cried, you truly were a vixen, he thought. One hand reached behind you, delicate fingers ghosting over the length of him, “Like that? Is that what you want, Stevie?”
He groaned, “Fuck, yes, fuck, baby. More, need more.”
You gave him a final squeeze right at the base of his thick bush, before swinging your body off him and switching your position so you were sat atop his stomach, bare core still leaking arousal on his skin, but you had your back to him, your body and hands facing his aching cock.
You bent forward, dragging your nails up his calves, over his meaty thighs, a light touch to his balls before dragging them up his shaft. Steve wailed from behind you, panting and whining and moaning.
Gathering spit in your mouth you let it fall from your lips onto the tip before you used a hand to spread it over his dick. The cool of your saliva touching him made him let out the most delicious groan, hips stirring and cock twitching beneath you.
You began to work him with both hands, twisting and gliding up and down his cock at an agonisingly slow pace, choosing to squeeze lightly at the angry pink tip.
Steve was already embarrassingly close to his orgasm, all the muscles in his thighs and tummy clenching and constructing. His big brown eyes were screwed shut, his cheeks flushed as he dragged his arm to lay over his face, incoherent moans of oh fuck and please, baby, please filled the quiet of your bedroom.
Keeping up your pace you began to work his head, your fingers a circle tugging up and down over the sensitive part of his cock, your free hand rolling his heavy balls in your palm.
“Oh, fuck,” Steve whined, thighs spread wide beneath you, toes curling, “please be careful, shit, please be careful.”
You could only smirk at the neediness in his voice, tone a notch higher than usual as he keened below you. Your hand never relented, keeping your ministrations going, doing so well to unravel the man you were sat on.
Steve had to take deep breaths, deep pants escaping his wet lips, his hand coming to grab at the flesh of your ass, fingers digging into your skin as he pleaded with you, “Please can I cum, shit, please can I cum, baby,” he begged now, “oh, please please please.”
His thighs trembled on the bed, you felt him tense and you knew he was right there, one or two more pumps of your hands and he’d be spilling all over them. So, you stopped. You removed your hands and braced them on his thighs instead.
“Oh, fu-uck,” Steve’s whine was long and drawn out, drawing long shaky breaths in and out of his pursed lips. You watched as his cock twitched below you, angry and throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the tip.
His hands came to rest on your waist now, fingertips digging into the bare flesh of your hips, thumbs stroking up and down. Steve’s hips stirred beneath you, his feet planted firmly in the mattress as his knees bent. Desperately trying to find any kind of friction.
Your fingers ghosted over his shaft again, the pad of your pointer fingers finding his slit, spreading the leaking pre-cum all over.
“Baby, please, I-” he started, cutting himself off with a moan as you squeezed his head once more, “I need to- you gotta let me cum, shit, angel, please, feels so good. Can’t hold it.”
“Hm?” you breathed out, your hands building up the pace again, bullying the tip of his cock, “Need’ta cum, Stevie?” you asked, tone low and enticing.
“Yes, yes, so bad,” Steve’s thighs trembled, hips rutting up into your hands, “please I- I’ll be good, baby, so good for you, please.”
Your cheeks flushed at his admission, heat rising up your neck, your cunt fluttering at the affect you had on him. You could only imagine what he looked like behind you. Eyes glassy and hair wild, his face flushed red and lips pink and bitten.
Your hands never stopped, leaning forward again to dribble more saliva onto Steve’s cock as you felt his stomach and thighs tense all at once, so close to orgasm once more. He moaned beneath you, “Fuck, I’m gonna-” but you cut him off as soon as your hands left his cock again, leaving him on the edge.
“Alright, baby,” you spoke, lifting yourself from his stomach, your gaze flitting to the wet patch of slick you’d left on his skin, “I’ll let you cum, but I wanna see you.”
You finally got a good look at Steve, his face was tucked into the crook of his elbow, other hand fisting the sheets of the bed. His neck and chest was slick with sweat, a thin light sheen covering his skin. His mouth was hanging agape, breathing heaving with vigor. Steve looked so fucking pretty like this.
So you crawled back on the bed taking your spot between his stretched out thighs, you leant down to press soft kisses along the skin there. Your hand found his that was clutched around the sheets, your fingers encasing his fist, thumb rubbing soft circles there, “Y’okay, Stevie?”
He nodded, a throaty whimper escaping his lips. He unclenched his fist, letting his fingers slot between your own. Your fingers glided up the protruding vein on his cock.
“Words, baby,” you whispered, “come on.” Your tongue darted out to lick a stripe up the underside of his length.
“I’m good, angel,” he hushed, “just- please,” Steve cried beneath you, as your hands came back to his dick, stroking and pumping up and down, “please, please let me cum.”
Steve was gone. Unbelievably fucked out, vision bleary as tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. Pain and pleasure mixing deliciously, head dizzy and moans incoherent. You decided you’d teased him enough, brought him to the edge enough times just to let his orgasm fizzle out.
“Okay, Stevie,” you hushed him, your hand continuing to pump his thick cock relentlessly, “cum for me.”
And that was it, Steve’s hand squeezed yours in a bruising grip, back arching up off the bed as all the muscles in his body tensed. His orgasm rolled through him like a freight train, his brow was furrowed as he whined and whimpered beneath you. Steve cried out your name like a chant, moans of praise and thank you’s left his lips as his chest heaved.
His hot cum spilled over your fist and his stomach as he rode out his high, thighs shaking as his head hit the soft pillows beneath him. Steve’s eyes fluttered open as he caught your tongue lapping up the remnants of his orgasm off your hand, a fuck whispered into the room.
You stroked his thigh soothingly, crawling over him to press a soft kiss to his lips. You felt him smile into the kiss, tongues mixing together lazily and languidly. You chuckled softly as you stood off him, leaving him with a kiss to the slope of his nose.
Leaving him to collect his breath on your bed, you grabbed a warm cloth to clean up the mess on his stomach. He chuckled lightly at the gesture, a soft blissed out look on his face, thoughts of how the roles are usually reversed.
You climbed into bed beside him, head resting on his chest as your fingers came to trace the moles and freckles that littered his skin. His arm slung around your figure pulling you in close.
“Y’okay?” you whispered into his skin.
Steve hummed, his lips pressing into your soft hairline, his fingers dancing up and down your bare back.
“More than.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fic#dad!steve harrington#sub!steve harrington#stranger things smut#stranger things fic#steve harrington fanfiction#k.fic#don't look at me#I cant-
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Hating Game
Dylan O’Brien x Reader
WARNINGS: mentions of sex, steamy moments (but no smut), swearing, lots of anger/hatred, i think that’s all??
i wrote this a whole year ago and dug it up from deep in the drafts and it’s not entirely awful so i figured i might as well publish??? also edited whilst watching some killer shark movie LMFAOO so it might be a lot worse than i think jshsjs,, quick PSA tho: i dont rlly feel comfy writing for real people anymore, and i don’t like writing smut, so whilst this is relatively steamy there’s no actual smut in it :) hopefully someone enjoys lmfao
there is also a high likelihood that i will be deleting this soon bc i am Embarrassed
Being mortal fucking enemies with your co-worker is not exactly what you envisioned your first serious acting job to entail, but no one can have everything, you suppose. Like, it makes sense, from a realistic (OK, pessimistic) standpoint that getting hired to be a main character on a popular teen TV show with little to no acting experience and the only thing to your name being an apartment you’re about to get evicted out of for not paying your bills is exceedingly lucky. Like, come on, what are the fucking odds? And everyone knows that something so good is bound to be followed by something bad. In your case, something you consider the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person, and his name is Dylan O’Brien.
First off, you know. Dylan O’Brien. Every teenage girls wet dream. He’s a conventionally attractive white guy who respects women because he doesn’t actively spit on them! (You’re not saying he’s sexist, because you’re pretty sure that’s not why he hates you, it’s just because he’s tasteless and a dick.)
Here’s the thing, though. Ever since you started this job, he’s had it out for you. Like, genuinely, he’s fucking evil and is trying to ruin your life. Why is this? You have no clue, only that you hate him back equally as much, if not more.
What really sucks, though, is that this is the guy who’s playing your love interest. At first, this wasn’t even really a problem for you (only to your controlling ex-boyfriend — good fucking riddance, by the way), but it became one when you overheard Dylan actively begging the shows head writer and producer, Jeff, to cancel that plot and then storming off like a complete and utter wankstain when he was denied.
Your character's first kiss scene has had to be filmed at least a million times by now, and the crew is starting to really get pissed off by it, which, like, fair enough, you are too, but it’s not your fault you and Dylan can’t even pretend to be romantically interested in each other for five minutes! The scene itself isn’t even the problem, you’ve nailed that, it’s the kiss. The gentle, loving kiss your characters are supposed to share, and Jeff is an asshole and every time he’d yell at you and Dylan you’d both just get more and more pissed at each other, and the kiss would get progressively more and more heated and angry with every retake.
That’s where you’re at now, bordering on eating each other’s faces (excuse you while you yack!) as Jeff yells “cut!” for the fifty-millionth time. You and Dylan instantly spring apart, awkwardly avoiding eye contact as Jeff sighs. Using the back of your hand, you wipe your mouth, only to pull it back to find blood. Literal fucking blood.
“Did you bite me, you fucking pervert?” you whisper-yell at Dylan so that the crew aren’t prone to any more unprofessional behavior you exhibit. The stinging in your lip grows more profound, and you scoff. “Oh my fucking God, you bit me.”
Dylan smirks, shrugging his shoulders as he glares back at you tenfold. He’s oozing this nonchalant smugness, and you feel more pissed at him than ever.
“How the hell was that ‘gentle’ or ‘loving’!?” you continue quietly yelling at him as Jeff talks with the rest of the crew, his hands rubbing over the creases on his forehead.
Dylan’s smirk falls, as he glares at you with incredulity, “How was pulling my hair like, five minutes ago, any more ‘gentle’ or ‘loving’?!” he spits back.
Part of you wants to admit that that was genuinely an accident, but, like, whatever. Dylan would probably take it the wrong way, interpreting it as you being kinky and attracted to him. “OK,” you say instead, “act like you didn’t moan when I did that, you freak.”
“I moaned in pain,” he argues, eyebrows scrunched and a fire in his eyes as he unconsciously steps towards you.
You open your mouth, ready to retort with another remark with the intent to insult him, but Jeff’s voice quickly cuts the two of you off. “OK, guys, it’s been a long day but we’re gonna try it again,” he breathes out, rubbing his hands together before he suddenly stops, eyes narrowing in on your lip. “Jesus, OK, what the hell, your lip is bleeding Y/N.”
“Sorry about that,” Dylan smirks, poorly feigning being apologetic. And this guy’s supposed to be an actor, Jesus Christ.
“Right,” Jeff sighs, so obviously done with the both of you as you glare daggers at Dylan, which only seems to widen his smirk. “Um, OK, so this time… Dylan, try not to eat Y/N, OK? And, guys, try not to step on each other’s feet… or kick each other… the camera may not be able to see down there, but it shows, and we cab. Um, so, both of you…. just… gentle and loving, OK? This is supposed to be a sweet moment, your characters are comforting each other…. God, OK, let’s just try and get this over with.”
Admittingly, when Jeff speaks, you aren’t even really listening. You’re trying your best to hide the fact that you’re elbowing Dylan behind your back, and he’s aggressively standing on your toes. The both of you are glaring at each other from the corners of your eyes, paying Jeff little attention.
“And, reset!” Jeff calls, the both of you getting back into position. Dylan seemingly can’t help himself, though, because he steps on your heel as you walk away from him. Fucking asshole. You curse him out in your head as you try to hide your wince and sit on Stiles’ bed. He just always has to have the last word. It’s fucking childish.
You’re not paying attention as Jeff continues to call to the crew, ready for a retake. Instead, you’re glaring straight ahead, and Dylan is glaring back. The tension between the two of you dissipates quickly as Jeff yells “Action!” though, and you pretend to be upset as tears fill your eyes. You sniffle and Dylan walks over, slowly sinking himself down next to you. There’s a palpable distance between the two of you, one that’s closing slowly as Dylan, in character, awkwardly shuffles towards you, fidgeting all the while.
“What are you doing?” your character asks, looking at Dylan (Stiles) with soft, furrowed brows.
“Uhhh,” he stutters, “I just—trying to comfort you?”
“Oh,” your character says. “Right. I’m OK, though. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s alright.”
There’s silence for a moment, enough to be considered a moment too long, one that makes the air awkward. You aren’t looking at Jeff but you assume he’s relatively pleased, although this isn’t the part you and Dylan have been struggling with. It’s coming up, though.
Your breath audibly halters as Dylan’s tender fingers brush your hair out of your face, tucking it behind you ear. His character is closer than you thought, as you turn to face him. His fingers are lingering in your hair, coming to hesitantly cup the side of your face as you meet his gaze. There’s barely even three centimeters between your faces, and your character's eyes are flicking down to his lips constantly, as though she can’t help herself.
“Can I…” Dylan‘s charachter trails off, gulping. “Can I—is it alright if I kiss—?”
You cut him off, quickly leaning in to place a peck on his lips.
“…You,” he breathes out, his eyes widened as he looks thoroughly perplexed.
Your character bites her lip, looking down at her hands before shooting up. “Sorry. I’m—I probably shouldn’t have done that. Sorry. I’ll go.” As quickly as you stand up, though, Dylan grabs your hand.
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, and when you turn around to face him his hands are cupping your cheeks again and you’re kissing. It’s gentle and soft until his finger tugs a strand of your hair, and then all of a sudden your hands are in Dylan’s hair roaming through them and tugging and, next thing you know, you’re tonguing and Dylan’s hand is wrapped around your throat.
“OK, cut!” Jeff screeches, and the two of you practically scramble away from each other. “What the hell, guys? You were doing so well until then. I just… Let’s take another five, I guess. No, actually, screw it, we’ll pick this back up tomorrow.”
Jeff storms off, and not only are you pissed at Dylan now, you’re ashamed. The both of you have been acting unprofessional all day, just because Dylan is a fucking child. If he gets you fired… You’re gonna kill him. Fucking murder him. Shit on his mutilated corpse.
Glaring at him, you shove his side as you storm off to go back to your trailer and calm down. You need to sleep because tomorrow is an early shoot and it’s already late, and now you probably won’t be able to because you’re pissed and stressed and worried.
Unfortunately for you, there’s a pattern of thudding footsteps on the ground before Dylan catches up to you. “Jesus, can you slow down?” he rasps. “What the hell did I even do now?”
“Are you fucking serious, O’Brien?” you whirl around, only to be met with him much closer than you anticipated. “I could get fired ‘cause of your immature ass.”
“Oh, my immature ass?” he scoffs. “Do you even hear yourself?”
With a roll of your eyes, you turn around and continue on your merry way to your trailer. You want to get away from Dylan, desperately, before you end up punching him, but he doesn’t seem to be getting the hint and is hot on your heels.
“You’re the one always calling me a dick and shit, insulting me, starting stuff. I mean, I have bruises on my back from you elbowing me just a minute ago.” You’re at your trailer now, after blocking out Dylan’s ranting in your ear, but you only just open the door before he continues, “What, you mad ‘cause no one else ever dishes back what you put out? Sorry not everyone just accepts your word as gospel, princess.”
“First of all, fuck you,” you spit. You’re giving him the attention and reaction he wants, but you don’t even care. You’re that pissed off. “Second of all, me, the princess? Holy shit, O’Brien, you’re delusional. You had a go at me today because I ate the last mac ‘n cheese, even though your name wasn’t on it. You think everything belongs to you because everybody loves you. News flash, it doesn’t, and they don’t. They just suck up to you because you’re a rich white guy with an army of teenage girls behind you.”
“Sounds like you’re just jealous to me,” Dylan shrugs, trying to pretend he’s unaffected but the stiffness in his shoulders is entirely obvious. “I mean, come on, let’s be honest here, you’re used to getting everything, to being the favourite, but the moment someone else gets attention you go fucking haywire. Or maybe you’re just in love with me. You say you hate me but, come on, everyone knows there’s a thin line between love and hate.”
“Me? Love you?” You scoff, laughing aggressively. “Only one of us choked the other as they shoved their tongue down their throat today.”
“Choked you?” Dylan snorts. “You wish. I merely placed my hand in the wrong place. It was an accident, Y/L/N. You know, like you.”
“Oh, good one. You really got me there, Dyl.” The sarcasm is practically oozing out of your every pore at this point. “And your hand was around my neck. How do you accidentally do that?”
“I was aiming for your other cheek, but you were tugging on my hair so much I could barely fucking see,” he retorts.
“Oh, sure. You were aiming for my cheek and you just accidentally slipped your hand right like this,” you say, sliding your hand around Dylan’s throat to demonstrate, lightly pushing him against the wall.
“Yeah, maybe like how you accidentally kept going like this,” Dylan says, his eyes narrowed into slits as he stares straight into yours, his fingers sliding through your hair before gripping and yanking.
“I hate you,” you breathe, your gazes re-aligning. The distance between the two of you is minimal at this point, and there’s an angry hornets nest in your stomach that you blame on your insatiable anger and hatred of this man in front of you.
“Fight me,” he spits, eyes boring into yours and not breaking contact for even a second.
“Oh, you wanna fight?” You challenge, mocking him.
“Fuck you,” he spits again, violently frustrated.
“Oh, you wanna fuck?” You were supposed to say it with a laugh, but the distance between the two of you is so small, and your voice sounds so quiet, and his eyes are looking at yours like that, and it suddenly sounds so reasonable… The two of you are kissing, but it doesn’t feel like kissing. It feels like more. It doesn’t start gentle and slow, like the ones you were doing for the camera earlier, it starts violent and angry as you communicate every ounce of hatred from one body to another.
Dylan’s foot juts out, his hands sliding down your body as he kicks the door to the trailer shut. Immediately, you push him up against the closed door, hands sliding into his hair as his hands come up to cup your cheeks with vigor.
“I knew you were into that,” he groans, smirking.
“Shut the fuck up,” you retort, forcing his head back down to yours so your lips can re-meet. His laugh cuts off into a moan as you pull his hair, and he suddenly flips the two of you around, parting your legs with his foot as his hands cup your ass.
The next day, you drag yourself into hair and makeup, ashamed. You know Sam, your makeup artist, is gonna want to kill you for all the goddamn hickies on your neck. Honest to god, it looks like you’ve just crawled out a leech-infested lake.
“Jesus Christ, girl,” Sam gasps as you take your usual seat. “You get mauled or something?”
The woman lifts your hair as she peers at your marked-up neck, assessing the damage. She seems more amused than pissed off, thankfully, but it does nothing to quell your embarrassment. You just hope you didn’t mark Dylan up as much as he did you, or else someone might just put the pieces together. You do not want people thinking your standards are low enough to sleep with him—they might think you’re some sex-crazed satanist if they know you fucked the devil last night.
“Yeah, something like that,” you sigh, irritation lining your tone. It just so happens that, at that moment, the trailer door opens and in comes Dylan. Your eyes meet immediately, just as they always have done when the two of you have found yourselves in the same room. You glare, but you find it’s half-hearted and, unlike usual, he looks away and goes over to his own seat, seemingly searching for something.
Huh.
“You gotta tell me who did this to you,” Sam whistles, still in shock, apparently. “Slip ‘em my number, maybe.”
You can’t see Dylan entirely, his back half-turned to you, but you see the corner of his lips turn up as he tries to suppress a smirk.
“You know what they say about guys who put on a show,” you shrug, eyes narrowed in Dylan’s direction. He’s pretending to search for his phone still, but you saw him slip it into his pocket already. Nosey fucker. “It’s a little somethin’ called overcompensation.”
Sam lets out a loud cackle, turning to grab something out of her bag, and Dylan, done with pretending to look for his phone, whirls his head around to give you a subtle glare and a raised eyebrow, a smug look on his face like he knows you’re lying. (Which you, very begrudgingly, have to admit to yourself that you are.)
You hate Dylan. Despise him, even. More than you’ve ever hated anyone; you can rationalize why last night happened easily enough. The amount of hatred and tension and the pressure from Jeff to get that scene right all blew up. That much emotion had to be exhausted somewhere, and, well, it was. It was a blip in the timeline, some kind of glitch in the matrix, but it happened and there’s an easy explanation. What there’s not an easy explanation for, however, is why you liked it so much. Why you’re lying, trying to pretend it wasn’t nearly as good as it was, trying to pretend you’re not still thinking about how it felt to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him… There is no logical explanation for that.
In fact, it’s entirely illogical, the mushy way you feel inside when you met his eyes, covered with a glare that you wish had half the hate in it that it normally does. It’s weird and it’s wrong, because you’re not supposed to have butterflies when you think of the way his hand had caressed your face, the way he ran his fingers through your hair, the way his arms felt, wrapped around you. You’re supposed to be revolted.
He’s smug and he’s pompous and you cannot stand him, let alone stand the thought of kissing him. And yet, although you hate the fact that the thought exists, you yearn for it. You find yourself excited, even, to go to set and get yelled at by Jeff because you simply cannot help yourselves when it comes to one another. You hate it, every second of it, every second of him. You think you hate him so much you might actually love him. And with the wink he sends over his shoulder as he leaves the trailer, eyes dark as they peer at the hickies Sam is frantically trying to cover up, you think he does, too.
#dylan obrien#dylan obrien imagine#dylan obrien x reader#stiles stilinski#teen wolf#dylan o'brien#dylan o'brien imagine#dylan o'brien x reader
284 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
