#70s!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jezebelblues · 1 month ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 | 𝐇.𝐒 ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

summary: it isn’t about fruit

cw: smut18+, oral (f!receiving) unedited, idk that’s it. there’s like brief mentions of cigarettes/alcohol if that’s an issue

word count: approx 3.7k

| LMFAO okay so here’s something i’ve had in the drafts for a bit. on the lil poll thing the majority of yall voted for smut so here’s a crumb i guess love u

yes it’s 70s!harry. i love u 70rry

masterlist

july 1972

harry knew of YN—a friend of mitch’s, the cousin of a girl he could still taste on his tongue.

she was always in the periphery of his world—not a groupie, not a colleague. she was the girl who held the bubblegum pink lighter to his lips if he couldn’t find his own, the girl who’d offer her red glitter pen if harry lost his black one.

so far, three songs in his notebook were written in sparkly cherry ink.

they met four months ago at a bar in california— his first night on the north american leg of the tour, she'd stood on her tiptoes to hug mitch, congratulating him over and over with a laugh like the fizz of soda on a hot day. harry remembers the scent of her hair when the breeze caught it—peach bubbly and honey. he remembers the crimson lipstick stains on the cigarette she passed him, the faint taste of her fruity cocktail on the filter.

since then, she'd been around. not a fixture, exactly, but something close to it. she didn't sing, didn't play, didn't take up too much space, but she had a knack for fitting into the cracks no one else noticed. sometimes, before a show, she'd twist his hair back just the way he liked it, or she'd swipe a bottle of polish to paint his nails in a shade that matched his shirt.

it was easy, the way she lingered. easy enough that harry never really questioned it.

now, the sucker in her mouth stained her tongue blue. her heart-shaped sunglasses, pink and a little scratched, sat low on the bridge of her nose as the sun painted the roof of the tour bus in a syrupy summer gold. she was stretched out on a towel beside him, humming a tune harry instantly recognized as his own.

he sat cross-legged next to her, the glitter pen—her glitter pen—rolling between his fingers. his notebook balanced on his knee as he scrawled down lyrics, but the words felt sluggish, stuck, like the heavy heat pressing down on them.

YN's hums drifted lazily in the air, quiet enough that the buzz of the bus engine nearly swallowed them up. her eyes were shut tight against the sun's glow, but harry couldn't help stealing glances at her. she looked serene, almost untouched by the heat that had him melting into his jeans.

the cherry-red ink glimmered faintly as he scratched another uneven line into his notebook.

with a sudden pop! she pulled the sucker from her lips and smiled without opening her eyes. "you're staring."

harry didn't flinch. he leaned back slightly and smiled—bunny teeth and dimples. "maybe you're my muse."

her laugh was soft and sharp all at once, the sound of a soda can cracking open. she propped herself up on her elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. "hardly. if i were, you'd have more than that down by now," she teased, nodding toward the page.

harry smirked, his gaze skimming the floral pattern on her bikini bottoms, the curve of her hip. "or maybe you're just a really bad muse."

she kissed her teeth and let herself flop back down against her towel, the movement making her breasts bounce slightly in her top. harry's eyes lingered, just for a beat. she didn't seem to notice-or maybe she did, but didn't care. instead, she nudged his thigh with her toes, the sucker swirling back between her blued lips.

after a moment, she pulled it free and held it out toward him, her pink-painted nails glinting in the sunlight. "want the rest?" she grinned, tilting her head against her shoulder. "it's bubblegum in the middle. your favorite."

harry sighed theatrically, but he leaned in anyway, his butterfly creasing slightly as he plucked the sticky stick from her fingers. he turned it slowly, the blue sugar catching the light, slick with her saliva as he slid it onto his tongue. it was sweet, bright, with the faintest taste of her still lingering underneath.

she watched him with a raised brow, her grin spreading. “will you tell me who kiwis about yet?”

his lips quirked up around the candy. "no."

this was the third time she'd asked in the span of four months. it was her favorite song, or so she claimed.

it was a month prior in chicago. the aragon ballroom. he'd gone early, hours before soundcheck, to roam the venue, let his nerves settle. but that day the stage hadn't been empty. YN had been there, sitting cross-legged on the polished wood, his guitar resting in her lap. her fingers plucked at the strings hesitantly, her brows furrowed in concentration.

she wore a bright yellow bikini top that day, a pair of denim shorts slung low on her hips. the sunlight streaming through the high windows made her skin glow.

he'd stayed quiet as he approached, leaning his arms on the edge of the stage to watch. she jumped slightly when she noticed him, her cheeks flushing.

"move your hand up a bit more," his voice was soft, nodding toward her grip on the neck of the guitar.

she bit her lip, looking down to adjust her fingers. "like this?"

harry nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "press your index finger there. now try."

her cheeks darkened further, but she nodded, her focus snapping back to the strings as she strummed again-hesitant, but closer this time.

her fingers moved carefully along the frets, still hesitant, but with a quiet determination that made harry smile. the melody of kiwi—rough and unpolished—drifted softly through the empty venue, the rawness of it striking something in him. she wasn't bad, not really, but she played like someone who was just beginning to learn—calculated, deliberate, all concentration and no flow.

"it's better," he said after a moment, straightening up to rest his chin on his arms. "but you're still a little off."

she paused, sighing, her lips pressing into a line. "it doesn't sound right."

"you're playing it too clean," he laughed, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk. "y’have to let it be messy, loosen up a bit."

her brows furrowed, and she glanced at him, her cheeks still pink. "messy," she repeated skeptically.

"messy," he confirmed, nodding toward the guitar. "you're trying t’control it too much. let it get away from you a little."

her lips quirked up in a soft laugh as she adjusted her grip on the neck. "easy for you to say, you've been playing since you were, what, twelve?"

"eleven," he corrected, grinning wider. "but who's counting?"

she rolled her eyes but didn't argue, her gaze dropping back to the strings as she tried again. her fingers stumbled at first, the sound of a muted note ringing out across the empty hall, but she pushed through it, letting the rhythm guide her this time. harry watched as her shoulders relaxed, the line of tension in her jaw easing slightly.

"better," he praised after a moment, and her head snapped up, her face lighting up with a cautious kind of pride.

"really?"

he nodded, standing to his full height and dusting his hands against his jeans. "you'll have it down by next week at this rate, sunshine.”

she snorted, shaking her head as she set the guitar carefully to the side. "next week," she repeated, her tone dry. "sure."

"what, no faith in yourself?"

her eyes sparkled as she hopped down from the stage, brushing past him with a grin. "none at all."

harry chuckled, turning to watch her as she headed toward the venue's exit, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. her yellow bikini top gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and the sound of her soft humming lingered in the air long after she disappeared from view.

the song wasn’t about her, no, written long before they’d even met—but it stayed hers in a way he couldn't quite explain. hers like the red glitter pen that sat loosely between his fingers, like the memory of the bubblegum sucker on his tongue, like the faint scent of peach and honey still imprinted in his mind.

he let the notebook fall shut and leaned back against the roof of the bus, the sun beating down on his face. beside him, YN shifted lazily, her hand reaching out to tug the sunglasses from her nose and push them up into her hair.

“you’ll tell me one of these days, harry styles.”

he didn't answer, just let his eyes drift shut, a soft smile curling at the edges of his lips.

YN huffed dramatically, flopping onto her side to face him. The towel beneath her crinkled, and the faint scent of sunscreen mixed with the lingering sugar on her breath. “you can’t just smile at me, harry. it’s not fair.”

he peeked one eye open, his grin widening. “fair’s got nothing to do with it.”

“don’t be annoying.” she poked his chest, her nail grazing the inked swallow on his skin. “you can’t write a song like that and then act all mysterious. it’s cruel. is it about someone you dated? someone you wanted to date? tell me something.”

he pushed himself up onto one elbow, the glitter pen rolling off his notebook and landing in the crease of the towel. “and ruin the fun of you guessing every chance you get?”

she groaned, rolling onto her back again and flinging an arm over her face. her sunglasses slipped slightly in her hair, catching the sunlight. “you’re the worst,” she mumbled.

he laughed, soft and low, and let his gaze wander over her—the curve of her shoulder, the way the waistband of her bottoms dug into her hips just enough to make him wonder how her skin might feel under his thumb. “but you keep coming back,” he teased.

“not by choice,” she shot back, her voice muffled by her arm.

he leaned closer, the pendant around his neck glinting as it swung forward. “is that so?”

her arm fell away from her face, and she squinted up at him, the corner of her mouth twitching. “mitch dragged me along,” she said breezily. “i just wanted to see california. maybe get a tan. didn’t realize i’d be stuck with a rock star who thinks he’s god’s gift to songwriting.”

“a rock star, huh?” he echoed, smirking. “that what i am to you?”

her brows arched, her lips quirking into something smug. “what else would you be?”

harry didn’t answer right away. the silence stretched between them, thick and warm, broken only by the hum of the bus and the distant buzz of cicadas. YN held his gaze, unflinching, and for a moment, harry felt a pull in his chest—something slow, something sharp.

finally, he reached for her abandoned sucker, still sticky and shining faintly blue. he popped it into his mouth, smirking around it as he settled back onto the towel.

“god’s gift to songwriting,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

her laugh rang out, bright and unrestrained, and harry closed his eyes, letting the sound soak into him like sunlight.

YN’s laugh faded into a hum as she sat up, legs tucked beneath her, her knees brushing against harry’s thigh. her hand hovered over his notebook, tapping the edge lightly with her fingernail.

“what’s this one about?” she asked, her tone softer now, less teasing.

harry cracked one eye open, the sucker shifting lazily against his cheek. “why d’you always ask questions you know i won’t answer?”

“maybe because i know you’ll give me something, eventually.” she tilted her head, her fingers trailing along the notebook’s cover. “or maybe i just like annoying you.”

“you’re good at it.”

“thank you,” she said sweetly, ignoring his smirk. she flipped the notebook open, her eyes skimming over the half-finished lines written in that unmistakable cherry-red ink. “you’ve been stuck on this one for a while, huh?”

harry sat up, propping himself on one elbow and leaning close enough that her hair brushed his arm. “what makes you say that?”

“the way you’re chewing that sucker like it owes you money,” she teased, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “plus, there’s about three crossed-out lines on every page.”

he sighed, plucking the sucker from his mouth and tossing it into a paper cup near his feet. “some songs take longer than others.”

“and some songs,” she said, grinning as she tapped the glitter pen against the page, “are about a certain someone you refuse to talk about.”

harry laughed, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “you’re obsessed, you know that?”

“just curious.” she rested her chin in her hand, her pink sunglasses slipping down her nose again. “what’s the line you’re stuck on?”

he hesitated for a moment, then reached out to turn the page. “this one.” he pointed to a scribbled-out verse near the bottom, the ink thick and smudged where he’d pressed too hard.

YN’s eyes narrowed as she leaned closer, the scent of her sunscreen warm and sweet. “hmm. it’s… cryptic. you’re trying too hard.”

“oh, am i?” harry raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

she nodded, pulling the pen from his hand and spinning it between her fingers. “you need to stop thinking so much. write what you actually want to say, not what you think you’re supposed to.”

“and what do i want to say?”

she smiled, tilting her head at him. “how would i know? it’s your song.”

he held her gaze for a long moment, the teasing edge in her voice softening. his eyes flicked down to the pen in her hand, then back up to her face. “what if you’re the one i’m writing about?”

her breath hitched—just for a second, just barely enough for harry to notice. then she laughed, light and easy, her fingers tapping the notebook again. “then i guess i’m an even worse muse than i thought.”

“terrible,” harry agreed, his voice warm with something deeper, something he wasn’t sure he wanted her to catch.

YN didn’t move away, still perched close enough that her knee brushed against his. She let her fingers trail along the edges of the notebook again. She flipped a page, then another, her curiosity pulling her deeper into the sprawl of his unfinished songs and fragmented verses.

“you really don’t use normal pens anymore, do you?” she said, watching the way the glittery ink shimmered against the light.

“don’t need to,” he muttered without looking up. “not when you keep leaving these everywhere.”

“it’s a service, really,” she teased, flipping another page. “you’re welcome.”

her tone was light, but her fingers slowed as she scanned the next page. the handwriting was messier, more hurried, as if the words had come all at once and left no time for polish.

YN’s fingers hovered over the page, her eyes catching on the title underlined twice in red—watermelon sugar.

“what’s this one?” she asked, tilting the notebook toward herself as she scanned the uneven handwriting.

harry froze, “it’s nothing,” he said quickly, but the tension in his voice was hard to miss.

she arched an eyebrow, flipping the notebook to face her fully. “doesn’t look like nothing.” she read the first line aloud, her tone curious. “tastes like strawberries on a summer evening.”

harry leaned over, his fingers brushing hers as he tried to tug the notebook away. “YN, seriously—”

“hold on,” she interrupted, pulling it back toward her chest, her grin widening as she flipped to the next line. “and it sounds just like a song,” she read, her voice lilting in amusement. “you’re getting poetic on me, harry.”

“it’s not finished,” he muttered, sitting back against the towel, his jaw tight as he ran a hand through his curls.

“yeah, i can see that,” she said, tapping the page with her fingernail. “but what’s it about? strawberries? watermelon? a fruit salad?”

harry let out a sharp laugh, but there was something uneasy in the way his eyes flicked to hers. “something like that.”

YN squinted at him, her smile softening as she studied the lyrics again. “it’s… sweet,” she murmured, her tone thoughtful now. “like—” she paused, glancing up at him. “like a crush. isn’t it?”

his mouth opened, then closed again. for a moment, he looked almost caught—like she’d stumbled onto something he hadn’t meant to share. finally, he shrugged, his fingers fidgeting with the cross between his swallows. “it’s about… a feeling,” he said carefully.

“what kind of feeling?” she pressed, tilting her head.

he hesitated, his gaze darting between the notebook and her face. “just… something good. something warm.”

YN rolled her eyes, her teasing smile back in place. “you’re being annoyingly vague. is it about someone? or are you just really passionate about fruit now?”

harry exhaled a laugh, but he didn’t answer right away. instead, his gaze lingered on her, quiet and unreadable, before he finally shrugged again. “do y’want me t’show you?”

her teasing smile faded, curiosity dancing across her features. “show me?” she echoed, her voice gentler now, uncertain.

he nodded, shifting closer. the notebook was forgotten as his fingers brushed along its spine, pushing it aside. his eyes swept over her face slowly, studying the way her cheeks were flushed from the sun, the way her lips parted as if she wanted to ask something but had forgotten how.

his hands rested near her hips, the towel wrinkling under his palms. he leaned in, close enough that his breath was cool against her lips. "it's not about fruit," he breathed, his voice barely more than a rasp.

she blinked, her pulse skittering in her chest as her eyes flicked between his. "i... kinda figured," she whispered, her tone shaky, but her gaze steady.

his lips twitched, a soft breath of laughter escaping through his nose. "do you trust me?"

her eyes dipped, lingering on the curve of his strawberry-red lips. the weight of the moment pressed against her, electric and unyielding. "just show me, harry."

he didn't hesitate after that. his hands settled on her hips, warm and firm, as he guided her flat onto the towel. the sun hung heavy in the sky, draping them in a creamsicle haze, but all she could focus on was him—his weight, his touch, the way his curls fell forward as he hovered over her.

his ring clad fingers drifted to her thighs, palms flat along the insides as he spread her apart. the tip of his nose grazed the gusset of her bikini bottoms over to the flesh of her thigh right against his thumb. he pressed soft kisses into the skin, nipping at it gently to watch her chest rise from a gasp.

his lips trailed like the sticky sweetness of honey dripping down her skin, closer to her center, each kiss slow and warm.

he paused, his nose brushing against her clit still covered by fabric, but he could still feel her heat radiating through it. “still with me?”

she nodded, her heartbeat everywhere but her chest. “please, harry.”

he smirked, his fingers hooking underneath the bottoms, his touch feather-light as he slid them down. the movement felt slow, intentional, every second stretching out as the anticipation buzzed through her like electricity.

her arousal glistened in the sunlight—a bright peach dripping with water in the georgia heat. he laid flat on his stomach, arms looping behind her knees and pulling her thighs apart. he breathed her in, lips grazing alongside her folds before he pressed soft kisses into her.

she was sunshine, she was rock and roll, she seeped nectar and smelt like champagne—he wanted to take his time.

he kissed right into her heat, his lips slick with the remnants of her, causing her tummy to flip. he drank her in, sliding his tongue up until he could make slow swirls around her clit. it sent a jolt through her, a sensation so vivid it left her gasping.

she clutched the towel beneath her, head tipping back as the sounds of summer—cicadas in the distance, trees shaking in warm breeze, the hum of the engine—faded into the background.

he took her bud between his lips greedily, suckling gently and flicking the tip of his tongue against her. his grip on her thighs tightened as he pushed himself father into her, drawing soft, breathy moans from her throat.

he tilted his head, cheek flat against the space between where her thigh and cunt met. he lapped at her pussy, slow and languid strokes as he gazed up at her through his eyelashes.

“like sugar.” he mumbled against her, the reverberation causing her fingers to tangle themselves in his curls, her hips bucking against his face.

he smiled, pulling her down flat against the towel, burying himself deeper into her. she would tug on his curls every time he moaned against her folds. she’d push up against his hands every time he’d shake his head between her thighs, coaxing whimpers to fall from her lips.

he pulled her thighs over his shoulders, his nose brushing against her clit as he buried his tongue into her hole, tasting every drop, drinking in the way she’d clench around his tongue.

her cheeks flushed, words caught in her throat as he found his rhythm, his large hands holding her steady. his tongue moved like he was writing lyrics, every motion a verse, every pause a chorus.

she felt herself unraveling, her body tensing as she drew her higher and higher, the knot in her core overwhelming and intoxicating. she was an unrelenting sea, pressure, thrashing and trembles until the wave finally broke—gasping his name, her thighs trembling against his shoulders as her back arched.

he didn’t stop, relishing in the way she slid across his tongue, easing her though the aftershocks. his hands trailed from her thighs to her waist as she sagged back down against the towel, her chest heaving, fingers still threaded through his hair.

he pulled back slowly, a string of her release and his saliva snapping from the departure. he kissed up her naval, lips glistening in the sunlight, his chin soaked.

he smiled, resting onto his forearms as he hovered over her. “showed you, just like y’wanted. right, needy girl?”

YN blinked, her breath still catching as her body buzzed with the lingering warmth of him. she hummed, nodding.

his dimples deepened as he brushed his thumb along her bottom lip. “good,” he mumbled, pulling her lips apart as he leaned in. she could taste herself on him, sweet and heady, fruit and warmed by the sun.

he leaned his forehead against hers, their noses barely touching. “but if you need me to explain it again,” he hummed, kissing her once more. “i’ve got time, sunshine.”

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles smut #70s harry #harry styles fanfic #watermelon sugar

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latenightreadingpdf · 1 month ago

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Healing - James Potter

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: James Potter has made a habit of visiting you in the hospital wing for every one of his "injuries".

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The hospital wing smelled of clean linens and healing potions, the quiet hum of magic hanging in the air as you tidied the space. You had always been drawn to healing, and your time as Madame Pomfrey’s apprentice had only solidified your desire to make it your career. It was a quiet day, which you didn’t mind; the calm allowed you to focus on your studies.

Then, the doors burst open.

Madame Pomfrey appeared, bustling in alongside a stretcher that levitated James Potter. He looked worse for wear, his jersey rumpled and streaked with dirt, his glasses askew, and a pained expression on his face.

"Another Quidditch injury, of course," Madame Pomfrey sighed as the stretcher lowered onto one of the beds. She turned to you, offering a kind smile. "Y/N, you’ll handle this one. James, meet Y/N, my apprentice. She’ll be taking care of you today."

James, despite his discomfort, managed a grin. "Pleasure to meet you, Healer-in-Training."

You smiled softly, pulling a chair to sit beside him. "The pleasures all mine James. Now, what happened?"

He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Got shoved off my broom during the game. Didn’t land quite right. My leg’s killing me."

You nodded, already jotting down notes in your leather-bound notebook. "You probably a pulled muscle when you landed. Let me grab a few things to help with that. Stay put—I’ll be right back."

As you walked to the supply cupboard, you heard a commotion behind you.

"Prongs!"

You turned slightly to see three boys barreling into the room: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. All wore matching looks of worry, though Sirius's dramatic flair made him the loudest.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked, rushing to James’s bedside. "Do you need me to carry you everywhere now? I will, you know."

James groaned, half in pain, half in exasperation. "I’m fine, Pads. It’s just a pulled muscle."

Peter and Remus settled into chairs nearby, though Sirius decided to climb onto the bed, squishing himself beside James.

When you returned, your arms full of salves and potions, you stopped short at the sight of the chaotic group. You’d expected only James, but now there was a whole audience.

Clearing your throat softly, you stepped closer. "Hello, everyone."

The Marauders turned to you, and Sirius gave you an overly enthusiastic wave. "Oh, hello! Are you here to save our James?"

"That’s the idea," you replied, amused. Then you turned your attention to Sirius. "But I’ll need some room to work, so I’m afraid you’ll have to get off the bed."

Sirius pouted dramatically but complied, sliding off and promptly sitting on Remus’s lap instead.

"Really, Padfoot?" Remus muttered, though he didn’t push him off.

"Thank you," you said with a small smile before turning back to James. "Alright, I’m going to apply some salves and potions to help the muscle heal. Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable."

James nodded, watching you with an expression that was equal parts curiosity and appreciation. You worked quickly but gently, your touch steady and practiced.

"That should do it," you said, stepping back and packing up your supplies. "How does it feel?"

James stretched his leg cautiously, a grin spreading across his face. "Loads better already, actually. Thanks, Y/N. You’re a miracle worker."

"Happy to help," you replied, handing him a small jar of salve. "Apply this if it starts to bruise or feel sore again. Do you think you’re okay to walk back to your dorm, or would you like to stay a bit longer?"

"I’ll be fine," James said confidently, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Take it easy," you warned lightly, your tone soft but firm.

James smiled up at you, his warm hazel eyes meeting yours. "Don’t worry. If anything happens, I’ll come straight back, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again."

Sirius let out a mock gasp. "James Potter, are you flirting with the healer?"

James’s ears turned pink, but he shrugged nonchalantly. "Can’t blame me for appreciating good company."

You chuckled, shaking your head as you moved to tidy up. "Take care, James."

As the Marauders escorted him out, Sirius called back over his shoulder. "You’re always welcome at our dorm, Y/N! Just say the word!"

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It had become a running joke among your fellow students: James Potter’s newfound devotion to the hospital wing. Whether it was a phantom ache, a paper cut, or the slightest shove from Sirius, he was there, demanding your attention. You couldn’t say you minded too much—it was hard not to find his antics endearing.

Today, however, was different.

When James walked in, his usual playful swagger was replaced with something a bit more subdued. A dark purple bruise marred his cheek, and his glasses were slightly askew. You immediately put down the textbook you were studying and stood to greet him.

"James," you said, concern lacing your voice. "What happened?"

He gave you a sheepish grin as he settled onto the nearest bed. "Ran into a bit of trouble with some Slytherins. Just a little scuffle—nothing to worry about."

You frowned, pulling your stool closer to him. "A little scuffle? This bruise says otherwise."

Grabbing a jar of salve, you dipped your fingers into the cool, minty substance and turned back to him. Gently, you cupped his face, tilting it so the light caught the bruise.

James froze, his hazel eyes wide as he looked up at you. For once, he was completely still, not a single cheeky comment slipping from his lips.

"This might sting a little," you murmured, focusing on applying the salve. Your thumb brushed along his cheekbone with practiced care, and James let out a soft sigh, though you weren’t sure if it was from relief or something else entirely.

As you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the world. It made your heart do an annoying little flip, but you pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"Is there anything else you need?" you asked softly, your hands still cradling his face.

James hesitated for a moment before his lips curled into a grin, mischief sparkling in his eyes. "Actually, yeah. There is one thing."

You tilted your head, worried there might be another injury. "What is it?"

He leaned just the slightest bit closer, pointing to his cheek, his grin turning playful. "Aren’t you going to kiss it better?"

You blinked, taken aback for a moment, before a laugh escaped your lips. “James Potter, you’re impossible."

"Hey, it might help," he said, his grin widening. "You’re the healer—you’d know best, wouldn’t you?"

Rolling your eyes, you tapped his nose lightly. "I think the salve will do just fine."

He sighed dramatically, sitting back against the bed. "Worth a shot."

You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile as you packed up your supplies. "Let me know if the swelling doesn’t go down in a day or two. And try to stay out of trouble for once."

"No promises," he said, hopping off the bed. Before leaving, he paused by the door, turning back to flash you a boyish grin. "Thanks, Y/N. You’re the best."

As the door closed behind him, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. James Potter might have been impossible, but he was also undeniably charming.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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dawnbreakerluna · 5 months ago

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im utterly speechless like actually …

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shellshocklove · 1 year ago

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i wanna be your lover | joel miller

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

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

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

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

main masterlist / ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get down tonight, get down tonight,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay by yourself for a little bit?”

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

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

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

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

Instead, they fell on a man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about your name?” he suggested.

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

Had Deborah set him up for this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A good one?” Joel wondered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m an actor,” he confessed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”,

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

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

“Oof,” Joel frowned.

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

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

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

“There’s no catch.”

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

You gave him a skeptical nod.

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

An adult actor. Your eyes widened with realization.

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

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

Was it? Was it a problem for you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just what, sweetheart?”,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I don’t know… it just is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” you said, a little flustered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Joel.

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

Why was he talking to you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

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

The next scene had you squirming in your seat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do y’all have two rooms vacant?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel interrupted your train of thought with a deep chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bingo.

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

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

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

“I am–… what was your favorite part?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can stroke more than your ego.”

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

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

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

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

My sweet girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel? Can I ask you something?”

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

“Can you turn off the light?”

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

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

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

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

Joel waited for you patiently to gather your courage.

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

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

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

“Come?”, he helped.

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

“Right…”

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

“I– I don’t know… it’s silly.”

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

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

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

Nodding your head, you hummed.

“Are you a virgin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know… maybe,” you whispered.

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

“The latter,”

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

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

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

“It just… it hurt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your breath hitched in your throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes…” Joel drew another moan from you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, “Please.”

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

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

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

“Oh, fuck,”

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

“Joel,” you panted.

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

“Joel,” you panted again.

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

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

“Oh, god,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D-did you want to–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mornin’,”

“Good morning, Joel” you smiled back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, and he sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

His words almost didn’t register.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come for me Joel,” you pleaded.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he pulled out.

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

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

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

“Took the words straight out of my mouth.”

i hope you liked this! part two -> here

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

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moonylvs · 2 months ago

Text

⋆˙⟡ The prophecy

Summary: Your whole life of being ignored in love makes you believe that love will never come for you, so seeing James start dating the only person you thought loved you is too much for you. 'Let it once be me' Pairing: Jegulus x fem!reader Words: 4600 Warnings: Reader is an insecure nerd with a lack of love (she's also oblivious), mentions of crying and self-hatred, use of yn one time, hurt/confort, a bit of angst if you close one eye, slightly suggestive (Nothing explicit), a lot of fluff <3 Let me know if I miss anything!

Since you were little you could not help but feel forgotten, of course there were people who loved you, you were not a complete loser, you had a few friends and had no problems with anyone in your class, but still that painful feeling was still there, your friends had more friends, more friends to spend time with when you were not there, but you did not have so many people to hang out with.

Regulus was the only friend you were really close to, the only one who hadn't moved away over the years, Regulus had more friends, such as Barty or Evan, but he always showed you that you were his priority, including you in all the plans he made, listening to you attentively and never leaving you alone, the boy wasn't good at expressing his emotions, but it was the little details that made you feel his appreciation for you.

Over the years you and Regulus had become too close, you practically lived in his room, where he could listen to you for hours talking about the same subject no matter how much you rambled, it wasn't always like that, sometimes it was quiet evenings where you were both silently reading, just enjoying each other's presence.

Anyone who knew Regulus knew you and vice versa, you spent most of your time together, occasionally being accompanied by Barty or Dorcas.

With anyone else you couldn't help but feel like a lapdog, chasing people and seeking their attention, with Regulus none of this happened, there was no awkwardness or anxiety, just tranquility and affection.

But as always, the universe seemed to want to test you, every year a misfortune happened in your life, this year the misfortune was called James Potter and it was a cute quidditch player with glasses.

At first you didn’t care, you and regulus were assigned together to a school job with James, nothing out of the ordinary, regulus seemed somewhat irritated by the idea of working with one of Sirius' friends but said he wouldn’t give it any importance.

The assignment was not particularly easy, it was hours in the library and you had to admit that working with James wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but time seemed to pass quickly when the three of you were together.

Everything seemed relatively normal to you, you didn’t even care that James and Regulus seemed to get along, it was all too subtle, started with Regulus going to the library first, spending time alone with James and discussing assignment issues without you, then James started visiting more often the black lake, where you and regulus spent time together, but after that Regulus started going to the library without you, you used to find James chatting with regulus in the halls.

You wanted to think it was nothing, regulus still your best friend, still paying attention and even remembered your favorite chocolate, which he made sure to give you whenever he felt something was wrong.

You wanted to convince yourself that nothing was wrong, but there was a strange feeling in your chest, a little voice in your head telling you that something was wrong.

But how could this be wrong? James was sweet and attentive, he was the most popular boy at Hogwarts, he made Regulus smile, which no one else but you did, he even talked to you, included you in his plans and talked to you, listening carefully to what you said.

Even if you tried to hate James you couldn't, the boy was a gentleman in every sense of the word, but you thought it was his nature, you didn't think you were special, so you let James carry your books, walk you to class and even went to the three brooms with Regulus, for you it was nothing out of this world, but in spite of everything that horrible feeling wouldn't go away from you, that feeling that everything was going to end badly.

You really wanted to like him, there was nothing wrong with James, maybe it was you that was wrong...

“I didn't think you even knew anything about poetry” you could recognize Regulus' voice as he turned in one of the corridors, which surprised you, you hadn't seen him all morning, which was strange since you used to have breakfast together on weekends.

“Oh hi dove” James' voice snapped you out of your thoughts, you hadn't even noticed that you almost bumped into them.

James had a habit of calling everyone by nicknames, from “dove” to “sweetheart”, so you had understood that it didn't mean anything, but a strange feeling settled in your stomach every time he did.

“Hi, where were you?” You asked both of them, although your gaze was fixed on Regulus, your voice was calm but had some concern in it, had they gone out alone?

“We went to hogsmaede, for the poetry books I told you about” Regulus said calmly, but you felt a pang in your chest, you were the one who had told Regulus about those new books in the bookstore, you had agreed that you would go together for it.

“I thought we were going together after dinner” You said somewhat confused, but it was obvious that you were feeling a little bad about this.

“Ah it's just that I told James and he offered to go with me, you seemed busy with your Herbology homework, I didn't want to bother you” Regulus explained without giving it any importance, he really believed that you didn't care, you had gone a million times together to Hogsmaede and he had seen you a little off these last days, so he didn't want to bother you or force you to go out, he knew you were not the most social person.

But he didn't know that you didn't care, that you would always go out with him if he asked you to, of course, you weren't a fan of socializing or going to places with a lot of people, but you didn't care if it meant going with him.

“Oh okay, sure…” You said trying to sound as calm and disinterested as possible, maybe it was ridiculous, you were just overreacting, right? Regulus could go out with whoever he wanted, it didn't matter, but why did it hurt so much?

“We can go again later if you want, Marlene said there is a new coffee shop next to honeydukes” James said almost instantly, he seemed to have noticed the way your mood had changed.

“Oh no, Regulus was right, I have to finish my herbology homework…I'll see you guys later” You said with disinterest, though you couldn't even look them in the eyes, you felt a lump in your throat forming, a whirlwind of emotions flooding you, but you didn't want to make a spectacle of yourself there, it would be ridiculous, so you didn't let them say another word and hurried off to your room, feeling a pressure in your chest grow and the tears stinging in your eyes.

You wanted to stop the tears but you couldn't, it had all become too much at that moment, so all you could do was lock yourself in the bathroom of your room, sitting next to the bathtub and bringing your legs to your chest as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

You felt ridiculous, crying over two boys you didn't even have anything with, that was the problem, you had nothing, you never had anything, at the beginning it was a joke between you and Regulus, saying you were both losers with no love life, but now there was only you, Regulus had James, the most damn beautiful and attentive boy at Hogwarts, and where were you?

You didn't know what it was that feeling that came over you, some kind of envy or… jealousy?

You had seen the way James looked at Regulus, with stars in his eyes, you wanted that, you wanted someone to love like you were the air he breathed, you wanted to be able to intertwine your hands with Regulus' like James did, you wanted to snuggle between the two of them and wake up knowing you had someone who cared about you.

But you knew it wasn't possible, you knew it since you were a little girl, when all your friends ended up moving away, when everyone started to have their first kiss and you hadn't even held hands romantically with someone, you just wanted it to be you for once.

A knock on the door made you jump in place, at first you thought it was just one of your roommates, but a voice proved otherwise.

“Is everything okay in there, love?” at that moment you couldn't hate regulus' nicknames any more, you didn't want to see him at that moment, to anyone.

“Yeah, I'm fine” You said trying to sound calm, wiping the tears coming out of your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater.

“Can we come in?” your brow furrowed slightly at his words, We? but as if Regulus had read your mind, he spoke again. “James is here too, you didn't look so good earlier.”

You wanted to curse, what the fuck did James have to do there? You didn't want to be seen like that, you didn't want anyone to see you like that, but there was another feeling in your chest, you wanted to be comforted, you wanted someone to tell you that everything would be alright.

So before Regulus could say anything else, you walked up to the door and unlocked it, opening it slightly before stepping away, letting them in.

James and Regulus felt their chests heave at the sight of you, your eyes puffy and reddish, traces of tears on your cheeks and your eyes burning bright with tears.

Your gaze went to your hands, playing with the hem of your sweater, you didn't have the courage to look at them, you felt ridiculous, dramatic, like a little girl.

James was the first to approach, the brown-haired man was about to take you in his arms, wanting to protect you from everything, but for a moment he remembered that you and he were not as close as he would like, and he had seen you pull away a million times when someone tried to hug you.

“What's the wrong, dove?” asked James worriedly, holding back the urge to stretch his arms toward you.

Your chest tightened as you listened to him, why did he have to use those nicknames? Why did he have to be so nice?

“It's nothing, it was just a b-bad day I guess” You said trying to sound disinterested, but the slight cut in your voice gave away that something was wrong.

“This isn't just a bad day, yn, you've been acting weird all week, even with me” Now the one who spoke was Regulus, his voice sounding a little hurt, it was true, you had been pushing Regulus away for the last week, something you had never done before, the boy had been there for you all your life, you would never want to push him away, but this last week it had all become too much, your thoughts were overwhelming you, making you miserable and you didn't want Regulus to deal with you and your problems, you couldn't be a burden, to him or anyone else.

Your gaze lifted slightly, looking at Regulus and James for a moment, you felt your eyes fill with tears almost instantly, Regulus was wearing James' sweater, you didn't know if you hadn't noticed it before or if he had just put it on, but either way it hurt, it made your chest tighten.

Your mind went back to the last few weeks, remembering all the interactions between James and Regulus, the way they both looked at each other and laughed, the hickeys you had tried to ignore on Regulus' neck, the times you accidentally caught them in the hallways in a sweet kissing session, all those memories invaded your mind at once and made you feel miserable, because you were losing the only person you had ever loved, because it wasn't you who they loved, because it was never you who was loved.

Tears came out of your eyes non-stop, making you sob like never before, you felt like a little girl, weak and alone, wishing someone would hold you and tell you that everything would be all right.

Regulus soon came closer, wrapping you in his arms as if he was afraid you were going to fall apart right there, you wanted to cry harder, you felt ridiculous, you would have wanted to walk away, to disappear, but at that moment everything became too much and you could only sink into Regulus' arms, wishing your misery would end.

Regulus felt his chest tighten at seeing you so heartbroken, you had been holding it all in for so long that now you felt as if your own feelings were suffocating you, Regulus felt his own eyes fill with tears at the sight of you, feeling terrible for letting you get to this point, for not having cared sooner at seeing you so distant, a pang of guilt appeared in his chest.

James next to you wasn't much better, his face was one of genuine concern, he didn't know what to do, he didn't know you well enough to know what to do, he was afraid of getting so close to you that you would push him away.

“Love, please tell me what's wrong, it hurts me to see you like this” Regulus murmured, lightly stroking your hair, you sank deeper into his arms, wishing for it to be over, for the pain to disappear once and for all.

“I-I am what is wrong, it's a-always me…” You said between sobs, your head was starting to hurt from crying, you felt like you couldn't breathe.

“Dove, there's nothing wrong with you-” James started to say, trying to get closer to you, but you didn't even let him finish, feeling the pain cloud your t,thoughts.

“You don't know anything! Y-You would never understand…” You said painfully, pulling away from Regulus' arms, feeling your own chest tighten, to you James was the perfect boy, who had all of Hogwarts behind him, he would never understand your pain, no one would.

“Let us try, let us try to understand you” Regulus said quietly, trying to get closer to you again.

Your eyes filled with tears again, you felt a pressure in your chest suffocating you, you instantly shook your head, they were not going to understand you, they couldn't, not even you could, at some point they would notice how complicated you were and they would walk away, they couldn't fix you.

“I don't want to be understood, I don't want to be fixed, I don't-” You said in a clipped voice, tears kept coming out of your eyes, blurring your vision, you didn't even notice when James and Regulus had come so close to you.

“There's nothing to fix about you, love, you're not broken or damaged” James said softly, bringing his hand tentatively to your cheek, wondering if you would pull away or not.

But you didn't, you let James reach his hand up and gently touch your cheek, wiping away the tears that came from your eyes, his hand was warm and gentle on your cheek, you couldn't help but soften at his touch, it felt so good.

“I just want to be loved, is that so hard?” You said in barely a whisper, you sounded so vunerable, both boys felt their chests squeeze at hearing you, there was no way you were hard to love, not for them.

“Not at all, we've loved you from the first moment you appeared in our lives” Regulus said warmly, moving closer to you and James, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

You felt your breath catch when you heard his words, he didn't mean it, you were misinterpreting things, there was no way…

“You dont mean that, regulus, you dont-” You started to say instantly, pulling away from the touch of both of them defensively, you couldn't believe an illusion, you couldn't deal with the pain of losing them both.

“I don't what?” Regulus interrupted you, not letting you move too far away before gently grabbing one of your wrists. “I don't love you? You're not one to say what I feel or don't feel, I love you, and so does James” Regulus said seriously, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

You felt your breath catch, there was no way, it must have all been a dream, but you could feel Regulus' hand on your wrist, holding you gently, showing you that it was real, this was real.

“I don't know why you seem so surprised, dove, I know Regulus isn't very expressive but I thought we had been too obvious with our feelings for you” James said with obviousness, giving you a small smile, showing you that his words were true.

Your mind seemed to click, the memories of the last few weeks coming back to you, you had spent the last few weeks together with both boys and you had to admit that Regulus was a little more clingy with you than usual, he had looked at you more than usual while you were studying and you even remembered him playing with the bracelets in your hands, but you couldn't believe there were any other feelings with his looks or touches, he was your best friend and you had been so focused on his interactions with James that you hadn't even noticed how he acted with you.

With James the memories made you blush, now it all seemed a little more obvious, James was much more affectionate than Regulus, putting his arm around your shoulder as you walked, or telling you how good your hair looked with waves.

At that moment you couldn't help but shrink in place, feeling embarrassed, had they really been so obvious and you hadn't noticed?

“You really didn't notice anything?” Regulus asked incredulously, though something in his chest ached, you really didn't think they could be in love you?

“I, I d-didn't think…” The words didn't come out of your mouth, you felt embarrassed and a bit stupid, you wanted to believe their words but something in you still felt that it was all a bad joke, how could they notice you?

James noticed how your mind seemed to go too fast, overwhelming you with thoughts and ideas that weren't even true, so without thinking he approached you, taking your cheek again.

“We really like you, both of us, we love listening to you talk for hours about your books and hearing you laugh, I love when you insult me because I don't keep quiet in the library, I love how you and Regulus seem to get lost in your own world when you're together, I love how smart and kind you are, I love you, all of you.” James said sincerely, looking at you with those sparkling eyes that left you in no doubt that what he said was true.

You felt a new warmth in your chest, something you hadn't felt before, and it felt so…. nice

“I know that maybe now everything is too much and we'll go slow if that's the way you want it, we care about you, more than anything in this world, and I know that sometimes I'm an idiot who doesn't know what he wants, but if there's one thing I'm sure of is that I love you, and nothing will change my feelings for you” Regulus said, his cheeks were slightly flushed, you knew how hard it was for him to express himself, so every word meant too much to you.

Your mind was still thinking too much, a thousand ideas and emotions running through your mind, so many that they could overwhelm you, but for a moment a new feeling appeared in you and silenced everything else, it was love.

Your mind went blank, all the fear disappeared when you saw their looks, they were genuine, so for the first time you decided to believe, you decided that maybe this was for the best, you deserved it, for once, for the first time, it was you.

You were loved.

“I love you too” You mumbled in barely a whisper looking at both boys “I'm sorry for…for how I acted… I thought you guys were leaving me out and I-” You started to explain, feeling your chest hurt as you remembered how you yelled at James and walked away from Regulus, but they didn't let the pain last too long.

“It's okay dove, we didn't know you felt this way, we should have been more direct with you” James murmured warmly, with that tone that made you feel so safe.

“James is right, it was me who wanted to give you space when I saw you a bit discouraged, I should have asked what was wrong, I'm sorry, love” Regulus added with some pain in his voice, to which you immediately shook your head.

“No, no, it's not your fault, I preferred to isolate myself than to talk to you…I always do” You said without looking at them, the last thing in just a whisper, isolating yourself was something you couldn't avoid, you preferred to sink in your pain and misery than to let others carry it.

“You don't have to keep doing it, we're here and we're not leaving” Regulus said sweetly, taking your chin and lifting your gaze, “If you want space just tell us and we'll wait for you, love, but we'll always be there for you, you have us now, you don't have to go through your pain alone, you don't have to let your thoughts consume you, you're not alone.”

You felt your heart squeeze at Regulus' words, you were not alone, you had them, if this was a dream you never wanted to wake up.

Without thinking about it you approached Regulus, hugging him tightly and sinking into his arms, not without first taking James' hand so that he would also come closer, he didn't hesitate for a minute to hug you both.

“I love you, so much” You said softly, you wanted to say a million things, but at that moment you couldn't, you just wanted to sink into their arms and make everything else disappear, they knew it, they didn't move away for a moment, they didn't need words to know that you loved them.

“We love you more, dove, you have no idea” James said affectionately, running a hand through your hair in an loving gesture.

From your position you could hear the heartbeat in Regulus' chest, it was the best melody you had ever heard.

You wanted to stay like this forever, with them, they were everything you had ever dreamed of, you loved them.

Regulus carefully took your chin, lifting your face, his eyes were full of love, they were looking at you as if you were a dream.

“ May I?” murmured Regulus softly, his eyes fixed on your lips, he was asking for your permission, Regulus was asking for your permission to kiss you, and you felt like you would melt right there.

Almost instantly you nodded, there was no doubt in your mind that you wanted him to kiss you, even if you had never kissed anyone before, you wanted him to be the first, there was no doubt in your mind.

James was totally gawking at the sight of them, his heart was pounding in his chest.

Regulus didn't think too much before he gently cupped your cheek, bringing his face close to yours and pressing his lips to yours, you felt like you were in a dream, his lips were sweet and decisive on yours.

You felt all his love released in that kiss, it was as if he was pouring out all the love he had kept for you during all these years.

Your hands went to his hair, holding him close, your lips moved inexpertly over his, you wished it would never end.

Regulus seemed to feel the same, because it wasn't until you pulled away for air that he let you go, still holding your cheek.

Your lips were slightly puffy and your cheeks flushed, you were trying to catch your breath, and to James and Regulus you were the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.

“You've been waiting for this for a long time, haven't you?” James said to Regulus with some amusement, Regulus was in the same state as you, trying to catch his breath.

Regulus rolled his eyes slightly, before moving closer and leaving another kiss on your lips, this time a shorter one but with the same love, the boy had definitely become addicted to your lips.

When you pulled away you didn't know what to say, your cheeks were flushed, the smile on James' face didn't make you feel any less embarrassed, even in that state he looked at you as if you were a work of art.

“Damn I really want to kiss you” James gasped softly, bringing his hand to your jaw.

You didn't let James say anything else, you brought your lips to his and kissed him, to say you were scared was an understatement, but the moment your lips touched James' everything vanished.

James kissed you with such desire, his hand went from your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you close, his kiss was desperate but sweet, very different from Regulus, one of his hands went to your waist, pulling you closer to him and groaning in between the kiss.

James seemed to have been waiting for this moment all his life, at one point he lightly bit your lip, making you open your mouth and thrusting his tongue in, turning the kiss more heated, you felt your cheeks flush and you could barely keep up with him.

“James” Regulus called as a warning, making James pull away slightly, still keeping his grip on your waist.

“You'll have plenty of time for that later, let her process all of this first” Regulus said with amusement though there was some seriousness in his voice.

You were grateful to Regulus, sure the kiss with James was a dream, but your mind was still trying to process all of this, so you definitely needed to slow down a bit, this was all new to you.

James didn't look disappointed at all, he simply nodded slightly at Regulus, his face somewhat guilty, feeling that perhaps he had gone too far, he was much bolder than the black haired boy clearly, but if you needed to go slow he would wait as long as you needed to.

Even though your heart was still beating too hard in your chest you still wanted to prove to James that he had done nothing wrong, so you took his face and left a kiss on his lips, taking a moment to pull away.

“I love your kisses ” You said sweetly for James, showing him that all was fine, to which the boy's eyes lit up, giving you a small smile, god how you adored that smile.

That day all your fears vanished, you could feel a mess, a chaos, but among all the noise, there they were.

Finally the prophecy had changed for you.

I hope you liked this, I think it's a bit long but I think it's worth it, I hope all my Prophecy girls enjoyed it, your turn will come, don't forget i xoxo.

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