#and well.... what happens in vegas.... ;)

[artbyblastweave]

🔥 New Vegas: Old World Blues

I do not think they gave appropriate weight to the racial implications of the Little Yangtzee internment camp and the use of its inmates as test subjects- particularly since, unlike similar sites in the franchise where the atrocity is long past, the specific perpetrators and overseers are still alive and are meant to come across as, if not sympathetic, at least massively charismatic

[yujeong]

A year after the coup, Vegas asks Pete to teach him boxing.

My last fic of the year. It feels like a dream honestly. I'm so happy I got to write this for @cheresha after receiving a gift from them last year. I'm truly glad you enjoyed it, it was a pleasure to write this one for you ❤️ This was my source of inspiration for the story, in case you'd like to associate an image with Vegas doing (trying to do) boxing. This fic also marks the one year anniversary since @wretchedamaranth became my beta reader, so I'm overwhelmed with all kinds of feelings. They helped with this one too of course, tremendously so, and I am so, so grateful they've been a part of my writing journey, as well as one of the best friends I've ever had in my life. Thank you my friend, I don't know what I'd do without you. A special thanks to @musictooth too who, probably unaware of it, helped me get unstuck in how to write a specific vignette in the 1st chapter by making this gifset around a month ago. Your ideas are always so crunchy, thank you for sharing them with the fandom 💖 Last but not least, I'd like to thank a specific group of newly-found friends I've had the pleasure of getting to know these past few months. They wholeheartedly accepted all of me, and supported me throughout the process of writing this with their kind words. I adore you all, I'm so happy you're a part of my life. I hope you enjoy the fic. Hopefully I'll see you soon with its conclusion.

[sitizelter]

[necrotic-nephilim]

WOAH Bruce not only feeding that assumption in steph but planting the seed of it by saying something about Jason while he’s behind her and they’re looking at the memorial case together. Like this being after a build up of like you said him being harsh with her training “you didn’t match those fingerprints fast enough they could’ve matched 50 in 40 seconds you took almost twice that” but being kind while he’s physically touching her. Bruce standing behind steph, not to the side but directly behind, with his hand on her shoulder and the hand drops down to squeeze her arms and steph looks down at it and turns around and kisses him. I think if steph sent a post coitus pic to Bruce he wouldn’t even get mad he’d just get horny thinking about them together. Thank you for the photo steph can I get one in your robin costumes next time

(based on this post and this post) oh my god. your vision anon. i was going to just build off of this with headcanons but the scene you described i cannot get out of my head so uh have a fic that's 6k and far longer than it should've been with vanilla sex that somehow is very dead dove anyway, also crossposted on ao3. ily i would guard you with my life- <3

When Stephanie thought about Bruce, she remembered skin that tasted like salt and brimstone. She remembered warm hands that held her more gently than she'd probably ever be held again. She remembered a cold voice that was more cruel to her than anyone had ever been.

Which, given who her father was, Stephanie personally found that to be a pretty fucking impressive feat.

She remembered a lot of things about Bruce. So many memories sat on her tongue and threatened to spill out whenever she opened her mouth.

Memories like Bruce's hand on her shoulder, giving her another lesson she never got to use before dying.

"You didn't match those fingerprints fast enough," Bruce said. He was unforgiving, and Stephanie didn't have to be looking at him to know his features were painted in disappointment. She scowled and focused harder on the slides in front of her, ignoring him. When she didn't answer, he twisted the knife deeper. "Tim could've matched almost fifty in forty seconds. You took twice that."

It was always Tim being dangled like a carrot in front of Stephanie's face. So many times had Stephanie wanted to twist around and snap at Bruce that he wasn't the only one who lost someone when Tim had to quit being Robin. Bruce wasn't the only one with a gaping hole in his chest that couldn't be filled.

At least Bruce had Stephanie trying to fill his loss. It wasn't like anyone had stepped up for her.

Stephanie's grip on a fingerprint slide tightened until she was sure the glass would crack. "Did Tim have you breathing down his neck the whole time, making unnecessary commentary?" Her snark could cost her this role she fought so hard for.

After hours of useless training that didn't even involve punching things, Stephanie wasn't sure if she cared about that.

It took a silent, brooding moment before Bruce answered. "In the field, you won't always be afforded an undisturbed working space. But you also can't tune out distractions that could cost your life."

If she could, Stephanie would punch Bruce. If she thought her fist had the slightest chance of actually connecting with his face before he dodged or deflected it, there would already be a satisfying crunch of bone against bone echoing through the cave. Just the mental image of it made Stephanie almost smile.

She took a slow breath.

"Point taken," Stephanie said carefully. She set the glass slide down, flexing her hand that still itched for violence. Another cruel comment was on her lips when Bruce's hand started massaging her shoulder. The touch was so gentle it forced tension out of her muscles, and Stephanie sighed. "Are we done?"

"No," Bruce was icy, lacking any emotion. "We need to go over your lackluster decoding skills again." His other hand came to rest on her other shoulder, massaging in tandem. It was an electric touch she wanted to lean into.

"For fuck's sake!" Stephanie threw her hands up, then dropped her head into them, rubbing her temples. "What has it been, four hours? We haven't even eaten."

The shadow Bruce cast over her just seemed to grow, engulfing every inch of Stephanie's existence. "This job isn't one that comes with luxuries. And it's a job you asked for," he reminded her. His thumbs were working into Stephanie's neck, perfectly pressing out a stiffness she'd been harboring for weeks. She couldn't stop herself from pressing into the touch. "If you lose even once... you lose things you can't afford to lose. Things I can't afford to lose."

Stephanie looked up from the desk. Her gaze snagged on the memorial case that loomed over her every time she walked into the case. The name that was carefully carved into the plate at the bottom of a boy she never even got to know.

Because he was what Bruce lost.

"You're not going to lose me." Stephanie turned her head to face Bruce, giving him a much kinder look than she'd been wearing just seconds ago. One of Bruce's hands drifted down to hold her bicep. "You know that, right? I know what you've already lost, but I can be better than that."

It was gently possessive. Like, at any moment, she could evaporate, and he would be alone again. For all his flaws, Bruce sure as hell knew how to tug on Stephanie's fragile heartstrings.

"You have no idea what I've lost." Bruce's voice actually broke, like he was a marble statue cracking, every grove held a story. Real emotion, real pain beyond her comprehension. That was a rare thing. Stephanie studied the way his face shifted. She tried to remember all the training he'd given her about noticing small changes and what they meant.

Sorrow and pain in his brow. Worry and tension in the thin pressed line of his mouth.

Love in his eyes. A familiar love Stephanie knew better than anyone.

But he wasn't looking at Stephanie. He was looking at the memorial case.

"Oh," Stephanie realized out loud, eyes going wide. "I didn't know- oh. I'm so sorry, Bruce."

Bruce's gaze snapped away from the case all too abruptly, as if he'd revealed far too much to Stephanie in a single instant. His eyes were guarded again, and he stared down at her with a tense expression, stroking her skin with his thumb.

It was stupid, that Stephanie had never considered this... thing with Bruce to be a unique thing. Maybe she liked the naivety of feeling special in how Bruce showed her attention. She was never going to be the only Robin, definitely never going to be the best Robin, but she had always assumed she was the only one Bruce loved, like that.

The lining of jealousy calling her bones was put out by sympathy for Bruce. The loss of Jason was worse, if that was how he and Bruce were. It was more than losing a sidekick.

It was losing a lover.

Was Tim the same? Probably. Undoubtedly, Stephanie decided. And Dick, the way Bruce talked about them. She'd always known Tim and Bruce were weirdly entangled in ways it wasn't her business to understand, but now, the pieces clicked further into place.

And in one way or another, Bruce had lost all of them.

Now here she was.

No wonder her training was thankless. She could die or leave him at any moment, in Bruce's eyes.

Stephanie properly turned around, spinning her chair. Facing him fully, none of Stephanie's concern was hidden from Bruce. He answered it with a frown, running his fingers through her hair and cupping her face. Stephanie looked at the hand as it lingered on her body. Like Bruce couldn't force himself to pull away. Like he knew he was being selfish, putting her in danger.

But Stephanie wasn't fragile. She had what other Robins didn't. Experience on the field, doing this on her own without Batman. Who knew how strong she could be under his touch, how she’d blossom.

Stephanie stood up and touched Bruce's face. She had to stand on her toes to do it, but she kissed him. Gave him the moment he always needed to go from stiff and overthinking to melting into Stephanie's touch. He kissed back and licked his tongue into her mouth, like she was a decadent food he was savoring.

How he always tasted the same, salty and earthy, Stephanie would never know. She'd add it to the tally of mysteries about Bruce Wayne.

Bruce's hand drifted down to Stephanie's waist. Then, like something out of a movie, He brushed aside all the fingerprint slides, letting some clatter to the floor so he could pick her up around her hips and set her on the table. She was raised up enough that she didn't have to strain to reach his mouth now, letting them deepen the kiss.

For a while, they stayed like that. Kissing and hands wandering. Stephanie slipped her hand under Bruce's cotton t-shirt, feeling against hard muscle and a bandage over a deep cut that had needed stitches only a few days ago. A part of Stephanie wanted to push her fingers under the medical tape, just so she could feel where the cut was. Press her fingers up against the painful wound, exploring where Bruce's flesh ripped open and paid the price for his sloppy actions, as he would put it.

But she didn't. Stephanie did her best to keep the more inhumane parts of herself out of reach from Bruce so he wouldn't scrutinize them and make her feel like more of a failure.

Bruce ran a hand up the inside of Stephanie's thigh until he found the zipper of her jeans and just rested his thumb there. His other hand was cupping one of her breasts in a hold that wasn't nearly tight enough for Stephanie's tastes. It was such a cruel thing, how he was rough and unforgiving with his words, but treated her like a doll about to break whenever he fucked her.

Just once, Stephanie would give anything to fuck the Batman and hear words from Bruce Wayne. Not the other way around.

If she told Bruce that, there was a non-zero chance he would throw her in Arkham for it. He'd told her at length how relationships with women like Catwoman failed because they wanted him to be gentle in places he couldn't be.

He found gentleness for Stephanie in those places, though.

Bruce trailed kisses down Stephanie's throat. She tilted her head back to give him better access for sucking colorful marks into her skin, making her shudder. Her body begged for more where her voice failed her.

"Are you hungry?" Bruce asked, his voice vibrating against her skin.

Stephanie's head was swimming. "What?"

She swore she felt him smile against her throat. "You pointed out we haven't eaten. Do you need dinner, Stephanie?"

"Oh, you bastard." Stephanie smacked his arm, and he let her. "Later. We can order Chinese or something after this."

"Good." Bruce's voice dropped a dangerous octave. He always found some covert way to ask for her consent without directly asking for it. Just another part of his mind games she would never understand.

His hands pushed under her shirt. He pulled away from the kiss long enough to pull it up over her head, exposing Stephanie's plain white bra. She fantasized about being the type of girl who wore fancy lingerie for an older man like Bruce, but that wasn't something for Stephanie's shallow pockets.

She knew she could ask Bruce. He'd probably fall over himself for the chance to buy her lingerie. He always said yes when it came to money things, and even offered her a debit card attached to one of his smaller accounts. Which, in Bruce's language, meant an account with only a couple million instead of hundreds of millions.

But Stephanie always said no. She needed some side of her life to keep to herself without Bruce influencing it.

She needed Bruce to know she could still hold herself above water without him.

Her fingers buried in his short hair, carding through the soft, dark strands that still had the scent of his sandalwood shampoo. If he grew his hair out, it would probably have a faint curl pattern, like the pictures Stephanie had seen of Martha Wayne, from back in the day. It was a shame he kept it so short.

"How are your ribs?" Bruce asked, his fingers brushing over the still purple bruise and making Stephanie wince.

"Fine," she insisted, wiping the pain off her face. She had been the one stupid enough to take a punch from a Riddler goon, of all people. She didn't need Bruce pointing out her failures now.

He didn't look like he believed her, but he didn't push it. Bruce just bent over to press soft kisses over the marks, like he thought his love could heal her. If it could, it would've by now. Just the thought made Stephanie shiver and relax more into his touch.

One of his hands snuck behind her to undo the clasp on her bra. Stephanie shifted her shoulders, and it fell to the ground.

Bruce latched his mouth around one of her nipples. Stephanie groaned and pulled his hair. He always let her be rough, if she needed it. Her nails left angry red marks down his back, and she held onto him so tightly there were bruises. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Stephanie was pretty sure Bruce liked the marks as much as she did, proof that she'd laid claim to him as much as he'd claimed her.

Their relationship was one of reciprocity if nothing else.

It was a maddening tease to have Bruce's mouth on her flesh. He kneaded her other breast with a strong hand that had crushed bones, brushing across her nipple until it was standing upright and there were goosebumps on her flesh. She wanted to stay like this forever, having the goddamn Batman worshipping her skin.

She needed more, though.

Stephanie unbuttoned her own jeans and shimmied them down. They were barely past her hips when Bruce grabbed her wrist.

"What have I told you about patience?" Despite everything, he used the same tone he would've if he was scolding her about rushing into a mission too quickly.

"You're a bastard," Stephanie was breathless just from the few touches he'd given her. Heat was pooling between her legs and she needed to alleviate the pressure somehow, like expressing an infected wound. Sometimes, Stephanie's cunt felt less like a sacred hole for pleasure and more like a bleeding gash that she needed Bruce to provide triage for. He fucked her with the same intimacy that he dressed her stab wounds, finding the gaping flesh and pressing into it until there was finally relief.

Bruce probably didn't see it that way. Stephanie didn't care.

He dared to laugh against her skin, deep and rough. "Relax. Trust your body. Trust me." His voice was so steady and firm, it was hard not to lean against.

Stephanie huffed, but bit her tongue. "At least take your shirt off. Fair is fair."

A gruff hum came out of Bruce, but he complied, pulling away to shuck the garment and give Stephanie one of her favorite views. Like watching a sunset over the Gotham horizon, every time she saw Bruce's naked skin was just a little different. The same gorgeous sight, but if her eyes wandered she would find all the new little scars, the older scars that were fading more, the ever-shifting wall of muscle that didn't look one bit human.

Stephanie groped his chest, running her fingers over coarse hairs that Bruce sometimes shaved, and sometimes didn't. She preferred the natural look, the same way she preferred when he went a few days without shaving. It made him just a touch animalistic.

He went back to devouring her skin with his mouth and hands. Stephanie was at Bruce's mercy as he kissed, sucked, and licked his way across the dips and valleys of her body. He was reverently gentle over her scars with soft kisses. Then he sank his teeth into sensitive places Stephanie never knew she had. The skin under her breasts, the stretch marks over her hip dips that had never quite gone back to normal after she gave birth.

The world spun around them and somehow, Stephanie was the only thing that mattered to Bruce.

When Bruce seemed pleased with the soft marks he'd covered her in, his hands finally pushed Stephanie's pants down the rest of the way, and he helped her kick them off with her shoes.

Then, he got on his knees.

Stephanie's eyes were wide, and her face turned a soft shade of red that matched the hickeys on her chest. "I haven't waxed-"

Bruce arched an eyebrow at her and pushed her knees open. "I don't care."

She didn't know what it was about Bruce, but Stephanie was always too shy about her body around him, expecting him to scrutinize it for the same faults he found in the rest of her. The first time they kissed, she started waxing that same night, from her pubic mound to her asshole, just so she would be smooth for him. She shaved more often, bought a nicer perfume, and tried her hair in styles she never would've worn before. It made Stephanie feel childish, but she could never stop herself.

She needed to be good for him.

Proving the point in his words, Bruce started kissing Stephanie's thigh. He left marks there, too, working his way closer and closer to her cunt. Stephanie could feel her heart rate spiking as the cold air hit her vagina. She was digging her nails into his scalp, too deeply, she realized. But like always, Bruce didn't seem to mind.

Finally, he made his way to his destination.

Bruce's tongue was hotter than a brand over Stephanie's cunt. She gasped and jerked. Every time, it never failed to make her dizzy. It was a reminder how inexperienced Stephanie was at sex. She offered to give him head and without fail, Bruce always said no.

Yet, he did things with his mouth that Stephanie didn't know were fucking possible.

Bruce licked his way inside of Stephanie, pressing his tongue as deep as it would go and flicking upward. A groan ripped out of Stephanie, and she was practically grinding on Bruce's face for more.

He used his hands to pull her folds open for better access. If Stephanie tried closing her legs, Bruce just pushed them back open with his elbows. He forced her on display for him, whining and squirming for desperate pleasure from his mouth.

"Bruce," Stephanie moaned, eyes fluttering. It was a simple pleasure, but an overwhelming one, hard to even look at Bruce without losing herself to it. Every time Stephanie looked down, those piercing blue eyes were locked on her, drinking up her reactions.

It was fucking intimidating, was what it was.

He moved his mouth upward and Stephanie shattered. Chapped lips wrapped around her clit and sucked until Stephanie's eyes were rolling into the back of her head. He flicked and twisted his tongue in ways that shouldn't have been humanly possible to send sparks up her spine. It was like getting shocked over and over again.

His fingers pressed inside of her hole, arching up. It was nothing like being finger banged by a horny teenage boy behind the bleachers and all the other clumsy sexual interactions that crowded Stephanie's youth. This was a touch with experience, fingers curling inside of her with movements that went for precision instead of speed or force. Like Bruce knew he didn't have to rush Stephanie's pleasure, he just had to find the right spots to tug at until he unraveled her.

"Fuck, Bruce!" Stephanie grabbed onto the end of the table and thanked every god that she didn't have super strength, because if she did, the metal would've crumpled under the force she put behind her grip. "You... you're going to drive me fucking insane... Bruce-" She canted her hips up to chase more pleasure. Her body was greedy, making up for how shy her mind wanted her to be.

There was a gleam in his eyes when she managed to look down again. She could see how smug he was about knowing it was only his touch that could reduce her to this, naked with pleasure dripping out of her.

She was going to make a mess of the table. The last time she did that, Bruce gently guided her to her knees and pressed her face into the slick puddle until Stephanie got the message without a single spoken order. Licking up her own cum while Bruce had fucked her behind, a hand around her throat.

That memory was one she still jerked off to. It was too rare for Stephanie to get those wilder, kinkier inclinations out of Bruce, no matter how much she begged for his dirty fantasies she knew he was thinking about every time he looked at her.

One day she'd convince him to do whatever he was thinking about the time he stared at her a little too hard when she was trying to get out of those handcuffs.

The thought of that alone had Stephanie's pleasure rushing toward its crest, and her noises got higher and more desperate. Bruce couldn't say anything, with his mouth locked around her clit and still working it so well, but he stroked her thigh with his thumb as if he was encouraging her to let go.

It may as well have been an order.

And Stephanie obeyed.

She pulled hard on Bruce's hair and clamped her thighs tight around his skull, holding him there. Bruce didn't force them open this time, he just let her body take what it needed. Stephanie was almost positive a third finger pushed inside of her to join the first two filling her as she hit the peak of her orgasm.

A scream tore free from her lungs. She kicked uselessly, one foot accidentally hitting one of Bruce's shoulders. He was a concrete wall, though, not moving or even flinching from it. He just kept licking and sucking and looking through his dark curls to stare at her as she howled. Stephanie tried to say Bruce's name, she tried to tell him how good it felt, but all the words got lost in translation. All she could do was hold onto him and ride through every electric wave, hoping he understood.

Of course, he did. He always did.

Just as Stephanie reached the peak of pleasure and tipped into overstimulation, Bruce pulled off of her clit. He looked almost disappointed by it, staring briefly at her soaked, pink folds. Like he wanted to stay there and make her suffer and beg for reprieve.

If Stephanie had any sense to her, she would've pouted about him not doing just that.

At least his fingers stayed inside of her. They weren't moving anymore, but they were a warm pressure, keeping her full and satiated as her body went boneless. Bruce studied her and watched Stephanie hold herself up with her arm to keep from flopping onto the table and passing out right there.

"Fuck me," Stephanie said, already knowing that Bruce was debating it. Sometimes he fucked her after he ate her out, sometimes he didn't- no matter how she begged for it. Even when she could see the tent in his pants. The time she'd begged particularly hard, he laid her out on his bed and told her to stay still and just jerked off on her tits, as if to prove some kind of point she didn't understand.

She did understand, though, how fucking hot it had been to have his spent pleasure against her skin. Perverse and disgusting, but hot. She had scooped it up with her fingers and sucked them clean in front of him, the only time she ever got to taste his cum. It earned her a scowl as he carried her into the shower, practically dropping her into the tub.

Of course, she did manage to get Bruce to properly fuck her in the shower. So it was a happy memory, no matter how Bruce's disapproving stare the whole time tried to taint it.

A healthy collection of memories. And still, Stephanie's greedy hands wanted more. She wanted, craved more than just his fingers inside of her.

"Please," Stephanie added when Bruce was quiet for too long. She did her best to appear submissive and doe-eyed, looking at him through her lashes and spreading her legs. "I want you to feel good, too. Let me take care of you." When the soft, sultry tone she used didn't do anything to make him budge, Stephanie sighed and grabbed his wrist, pressing her thumb against the pulse point to feel his hammering heartbeat. "Take what you need, Bruce. I'm not going anywhere."

Bruce groaned and Stephanie felt it in her core.

He pushed himself to his feet, fingers still buried inside of her. When he grabbed for one of the drawers to a nearby desk, Stephanie practically preened, knowing she'd won.

"We don't need a condom," Stephanie said. She tried this argument every time. It never worked. She never stopped trying. "I have an IUD and we both get tested regularly-"

"It's not up for debate," Bruce nearly growled. He pulled a condom out and ripped the package out with his teeth. Stephanie squeaked at the sight.

"Let me put it on, at least?" Stephanie said, trying to get her voice out of the higher register he'd startled her into.

Bruce didn't put up a fight as Stephanie opened his jeans with her hands and pushed them down just enough to pull his cock free. He handed her the condom and watched with rapt attention as she stroked him a few times. It got no reaction from Bruce, and Stephanie didn't expect one. She just enjoyed the feeling of his stiff, hot flesh underneath her touch. All the little places only Stephanie got to touch and hold.

She worked him until his cock was twitching, and he grabbed her thigh again and squeezed with warning. Hypocritical bastard. He got all the time he wanted with her body, but she was always rushed when she got to touch him, sliding her hand over his cock and rubbing a thumb over the slick head.

The condom was rolled on as Stephanie imagined putting it on with her mouth. She'd practiced the skill on a dildo more than once in anticipation of the day she finally got to show it off to Bruce. She licked her lips at the thought.

"Good," Bruce grunted when the condom was snugly on his length. It was a coveted, rare praise that made Stephanie almost choke. And somehow, he said it like it was nothing. Like he didn't even mean to. Like he was unaware of how it made her react.

She liked to pretend it just slipped out because he was so caught up in her, but the realist in Stephanie knew that, like everything else about Bruce, it was calculated. Still, she took what she could get.

Bruce tugged Stephanie closer to the edge with his grip on her thigh. It was practically manhandling, and she couldn't stop the moan at the rough treatment that begged for more. Instead of giving her more, Bruce just gave her a sour look and pulled his fingers out of her cunt, and pushed them into her mouth to keep her quiet.

To make her taste the pleasure only he could bring her.

Stephanie mewled and sucked on Bruce's thick, calloused fingers as he lined himself up with a guiding hand. The push in was a blunt pressure, then a fullness that made Stephanie lean back until Bruce wrapped his arm around her shoulders to give her support.

Their bodies were flush together. He buried his face into her neck and breathed in her scent while she tasted his skin, savoring the flavor she only found on him.

Salt and brimstone.

Bruce fucked her at a controlled pace. He never let go to push her body to the limit the way she knew he could. But with how overwhelming it was to be fucked by him, maybe that was a thing. Bruce was thick and long, driving air out of Stephanie's lungs every time he drove in.

He pulled his fingers free from her mouth, and she mourned the loss with a soft noise. His hand trailed down to press against the bottom of her stomach. She didn't know where the hell Bruce learned the trick, but the slight pressure on the outside of her body somehow made the thrusts more intense and filling. It made sure his cock assaulted her g-spot with every stroke and her back arched.

"Bruce, Bruce," Stephanie chanted his name, clawing at his back, not caring that her nails were catching on sensitive scars. She felt like she couldn't think. She locked her legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer.

Her back arched until her head was practically hanging upside down, all while Bruce kept his face buried against her collarbone. So he couldn't see where her gaze fell and what made her stuttered noises get more guttural.

The memorial case danced in front of Stephanie's eyes, even from this upside-down shaky view, grounding her to the moment even as she was soaring through pleasure.

Stephanie didn't know much about Jason Todd. She didn't know his hobbies or his favorite books. She didn't know what jokes would make him smile and what worries clouded his head when he was trying to fall asleep.

But she knew they shared this. She knew, in this way, they were always going to be connected. Bruce had been buried deep in Jason the same way he was buried in Stephanie, chasing his pleasure. And just like Stephanie, Jason must've liked it.

How could he not, when being loved by Bruce was like being on a direct path of a meteorite? Fleeting, but brilliant in the chaos.

Stephanie tried to remember what Jason looked like, from the pictures. She tried to imagine how Bruce liked to fuck Jason and what Jason looked like under Bruce. How his dark hair got sweaty and his ocean-blue eyes squeezed shut. What type of noises he would make and what kinds of pleasure he liked.

Did Bruce suck him off? Eat his ass out like he ate Stephanie out?

Did Jason love the fall into absolution the same way Stephanie did?

All the mental images overwhelmed her as the Robin suit danced in front of her eyes, bright colors blurring together. The thought of Jason bent over the same table Stephanie was getting fucked on made her moan and her eyes squeezed shut.

In another universe, maybe they got fucked by Bruce at the same time. Two Robins for the price of one to finally get Bruce to go over the edge and take what he wanted from both of them.

For now, though, Stephanie would have to do the work for both of them. For all the Robins and this torch she carried.

She clenched down around Bruce as best she could. Her second orgasm was already too close. Usually she needed Bruce to stroke her clit to work her to the edge, but now, lost in all her fantasies of a boy she never knew, Stephanie was lost to it. She started to shake.

"Close," Stephanie warned, even when she didn't need to. Her noises were hitched and broken, lost in every thrust.

Bruce didn't speed up, but he did fuck her harder, giving her just a fraction of more force from his strong hips. It pulled a scream out of her, and Stephanie shattered.

The pleasure took its hold on her. Toe-curling and mind-numbing and every other cliche Stephanie thought only happened in porn. She clamped down around Bruce, so tight she didn't know how he managed to keep fucking her.

"Stephanie," Bruce whispered, so softly she almost convinced herself she hallucinated it. It was the only sign she got that Bruce had come, burying himself to the hilt just as her orgasm came to an end. He shivered and exhaled, and nothing else. No loud noises, no sexy dirty talk.

Just unspoken simplicity. Stephanie could appreciate it for what it was.

She nuzzled into him, pressing her head against his and holding him tightly. It would've been a hug if he wasn't still buried inside of her. She even dared to stroke his hair, like a mother soothing a child after a nightmare.

After an orgasm was the rare time Bruce allowed Stephanie to take care of him in these little ways, and she never squandered the chance. She hummed softly, carding her fingers through his curls and rubbing his back.

It wasn't a long moment.

"Chinese?" Bruce asked, pulling away from Stephanie's skin.

Stephanie rummaged around inside her worn mind, trying to find her cockiness. "Worked up that much of an appetite?" She gave him a sharp smile.

"If you don't give me a straight answer, I'll order Pizza Hut," Bruce threatened.

"Oh, gross." Stephanie made a face, afterglow sufficiently killed. "They have the worst pizza, don't you dare."

Bruce gave her a rare smile. He leaned in and kissed her one last time before they had to separate and be real people again.

That was where the memory faded off, for Stephanie. It bled into all the other little almost-domestic moments she had with Bruce.

It was a memory that stuck out because it was the first real time Stephanie had ever thought about Jason. And now, it was a fitting one to mull over as she was curled up against Jason’s chest, enjoying an entirely different afterglow.

And a much more sore body.

Because Jason didn't hold back all the things they both wanted more than anything.

"Say cheese," Stephanie said, holding up her phone to take a selfie.

Jason, whose head was propped up by his arm, looking perfectly serene, cracked an eye open. "What are you doing?" He sounded suspicious, watching as Stephanie twisted and turned the phone, trying to find the perfect angle.

She needed to make sure both of their bare chests were in the picture, with all the bruises and marks covering them.

She needed to make sure there was no mistaking what the photo meant.

"I'm sending this to Bruce," Stephanie hummed. She didn't smile for the picture, but there was an unmistakable smugness in her eyes as she snapped a couple of pictures, giving her options to pick from before pulling the phone back to her face.

Jason snorted. His grip on her hip tightened. "Why?" He didn't protest the idea.

Stephanie just shrugged. "It'll piss him off."

"You like kicking hornets' nests that much?"

"You've got no room to talk. How many heads were in that duffel bag again?" Stephanie gave him a deadpan look before going back to her phone. She debated on a message to send with the selfie, before ultimately deciding on none.

After all, Bruce was a man of few words. Surely he would understand.

Jason made an annoyed noise but didn't argue. "Tell me what he says back," he said, closing his eyes again and adjusting to get more comfortable in bed. This was his base they had chosen to fuck in.

The first place they fucked on was a rooftop. But of course, the lighting there wasn't the best for a selfie, so Stephanie had to hold off on taunting Bruce.

Sleeping with Jason was a lot more dangerous than sleeping with Bruce had been. She heard all the warnings and stories about what he was capable of and how he wasn't the sweet boy he'd once been.

Maybe she liked the danger. Maybe she needed someone who would finally stop treating her like a doll.

And just maybe, she needed to gloat.

The message was marked as read nearly as soon as it was sent. The three little dots indicating Bruce was typing appeared and disappeared no less than a dozen times. It made her smile, imagining him sputtering and cycling through emotions as he tried to figure out a response.

Just as Stephanie was sure she wasn't going to get any response, a message appeared on her screen.

Thank you for the photo. If you plan to send more, I still have your Robin suit. You can wear it in the next one.

Stephanie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She elbowed Jason in the ribs and showed him the screen.

Jason grunted and looked down for a moment, silent. "I'd fuck you in your Robin suit," was the only input he offered.

"Only if you're wearing yours too," Stephanie rolled her eyes at how unhelpful he was.

Jason gave the thought a hum, considering. "Ask Bruce if he still has it, and I'll think about it."

She had no idea if he was serious or not. It was always hard to tell, with Jason. She had no idea if Bruce was serious either. Maybe he was playing some kind of cruel joke on her too, trying to outsmart her in some game of chess just because she'd dare to mock him with the picture.

At the very least, she could be pleased she got under his skin either way.

Stephanie smiled and typed out what Jason had said, hitting send.

She always did like calling people's bluff. Whatever the outcome was, one thing was sure.

The game was on. And Stephanie wasn't stopping until she got the last fiber of Bruce's control to snap. 

[rhaenyra-first-of-her-name]

Idk what it says about me but the reveal has just made me like Armand more.

Yeah, go commit more crimes, my dear. His sad eyes have bewitched me. I stand with my cancelled wife.

But Armand is absolutely insane. Like he went from abandoning his og plan to rolling with Louis in a matter of days? Never say that this boy wasn't flexible. He is literally sick of everything in his life and is like, whatever 🤷‍♀️

Louis, Louis, Louis...... You are insane too for staying with him for 77 years to spite your ex. You are petty and I love this idea but you are still insane. I think this might be the first time you flabbergasted Armand and me. Love your petty ass, Louis.

Also since Armand let Louis sorta win their divorce fight, after just establishing him as the Big Bad™, for now, this man is forever scheming, 24/7. He is working overtime. Forever a stage director. (Okay, not really. He doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to be an effective manipulator, he's just an opportunist and oh boi, are the opportunities finally opportuniting after the shitstorm of his life so far.)

[gingerbreadmonsters]

its so important to me that you know how much ive already cried over this wip and its literally only been two days

[sherdnerd]

Seeing New Vegas fans go absolutely apeshit over lore contradictions

[silentreigns]

The FIA put out a statement basically saying a whole lot of nothing. They're not refunding anybody either. They also could have kept this wack ass statement like how is anyone supposed to feel better

[johntorrington]

thinking about him (my old gay cannibal fallout oc)

[kuromi-hoemie]

i can't believe i used all my tags on this. i have MORE TO SAY. honorable mentions i will not elaborate on: pikmin, runescape, OG animal crossing.

the reason for all my tags is because there's a difference between "most fun" and "most important" and feel like if they're important u should at least say why :3

[partyshadow]

BLOOD CURSE UPON BETHESDA AND AMAZON ONE MILLION YEARS

[snowfea]

Finished my first playthrough of New Vegas.

WHY DO I FEEL LIKE CRYING

[crossbackpoke-check]

Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)

art kid luke hughes

[wheresarizona]

but he’s the one I want

summary: All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch. 

His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound. 

pairing: DBF!Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller/College Student f!reader (no physical descriptions)

rating: E (18+!!! No y/n, DBF!Joel Miller, slightly possessive Joel Miller, pre-Outbreak, age gap, explicit consent, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, spit as lube, overstimulation, sex on stairs, body worship, slight body insecurity, getting caught, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, Die Hard is a Christmas movie debate) 

word count: 11.5k+

a/n: Alexa, play “But Daddy I Love Him” by Taylor Swift. I don’t know where this came from (daddy issues), but I hope you enjoy it! Reader is freshly 21 in my head, Joel is 35 (it’s months before his birthday), and Tommy is 29. Let me know what you think! Big shoutout to @devineconjuring for going on this journey with me and betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Main Masterlist

Knock, knock, knock. 

It’s a Friday night; the sky is dark, but the porch light is on. You hug your jacket a little closer to your body to stave off the chill in the air as you wait outside the front door for someone to answer it. A masculine voice calls out, "Comin’!" Footsteps thud on the hardwood floor as they head your way. 

Seconds later, the door is cracked open, and you’re met with the home’s owner, Joel Miller. Just the sight of him in his jeans and navy blue t-shirt has your heart rate picking up in speed, the man looking as handsome as ever. 

His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees you. 

"Hey," he greets. "What are you doin' here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

University of Houston—go, Cougars!

You smile. "Three-day weekend—I have Monday off. I thought I'd surprise my dad since it's his birthday." 

The confused look doesn’t disappear. "I coulda sworn he told me they were goin' to Vegas to celebrate a few days ago." ‘They’ being your father, stepmother, and your teenage half-brother.

“Well, I guess it slipped his mind to tell me they were going out of town. He must be getting forgetful in his old age.” 

The relationship you have with your father is… complicated. It’s not bad by any means—you get along and love each other. He just wasn’t very present when you were growing up—he lived in Austin while you were with your mom in Houston, only seeing him a few times per year. Now that you have a car and your mom moved out of state last year with her new husband, you occasionally made the three-hour drive to your dad’s to visit and do your laundry free of charge. It was also where you now stayed on your breaks from school.

Joel opens the door a little wider and crosses his arms over his chest, your eyes moving from his face to admire the broadness in his shoulders and the muscles in his forearms. Having his full attention on you makes the nerves in your belly flutter around like a bunch of butterflies were let loose. 

“He’s not much older than me,” Joel says. His eyebrow lifts. “Are you callin’ me old?” 

The man in question happens to be one of your father’s best friends—or so you’ve been told. In all of the visits to your dad’s growing up, you could count the number of times you saw Joel on one hand. Over the past year that you’ve been coming to Austin regularly, you’ve had much more interaction with him, which has led to you developing a little bit of a crush. Who can blame you, though? He’s gorgeous—the chocolate-colored eyes, the hair that looks so soft, that perfect nose, and those kissable lips. 

“If the shoe fits,” you reply with a shrug and a smile. 

“Kids these days,” Joel grumbles under his breath, shaking his head. “Did you come by just to call me old?” he asks. 

“Oh, no. I was expecting at least one person to be at my dad’s, so I didn’t bother bringing my house key. I’m here to see if you possibly have a spare I could borrow—I would’ve called, but I don’t have your number.” 

Maybe he’d give it to you now…

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t.” 

Hot and a sweetheart—how is he single? Is he single?

You frown, feeling annoyed that you drove all this way to Austin for no reason. You should’ve called ahead, but that was your mistake, assuming your family would stay in town for your father’s birthday. “This was a waste of gas,” you muse. “Love that for me. Well, it looks like I’m heading home, or maybe I’ll get a cheap motel room. Thanks anyway, Joel. Have a nice rest of your night!” You do a little wave at him. 

You start to turn, but stop when he says, “Wait,” and you face him again. He opens the door wider. “It’s too late for you to be drivin’ all that way, and there’s no reason you should pay for a motel when I’ve got a guest room you can stay in. You can get a good night's sleep and leave tomorrow mornin’ when the sun’s shinin’.” 

Again, a sweetheart—why hasn’t anyone snatched him up? Or have they?

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

He finally offers you a friendly smile and moves to open the door all the way. “Yeah, it’s no problem. I was feelin’ lonely anyway with Sarah gone at a sleepover. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t my brother.” 

Lonely? Nice to have some company? That sounds pretty single to you. Your night just got a lot more interesting. “Thank you so much! I’ll do my best to be better company than your brother.” 

With that, you make your way inside, toeing off your shoes next to a pair of his work boots.

“That won’t be too hard,” Joel says as he shuts the door. 

You stop in the entryway because you’re not quite sure where you should be going since you've never actually been inside his house. You only know where he lives because your father once asked you to drop something off here. 

“Let me get your coat and bag.” You hand him your small purse, and he moves behind you, helping as you shrug off the long jacket you’re wearing, which he hangs up on a nearby coat hook with your bag. “Oh.” He stops in his tracks, and you look at him, seeing his widened eyes staring at your body. “Were you plannin’ on goin’ out tonight?” 

You glance down at your outfit, and you can understand why he’d make that assumption at the sight of the cute little black dress you’re wearing—it only reaches mid-thigh and has a V-neckline to show off your breasts.

“Not going out—it’s laundry day. I do my laundry when I come to Austin, and this was literally the last clean thing I had.” Your eyes lift to see his glued to your chest, and you think that’s an interesting development. “I have spare clothes I keep at my dad’s that I planned on changing into.” 

It’s the truth, and you’re a little thankful this was your last clean outfit. You can only imagine how embarrassing it would’ve been coming over here in a ratty old T-shirt, granny panties, and your Spongebob Squarepants pajama pants. 

He clears his throat and looks away. A rosy blush appears on his cheeks as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I can put my jacket back on,” you tell him, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“No, no.” He meets your gaze, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s fine—do you need to use my washer and dryer?” 

“You’re already being nice, letting me stay over. I can wash my clothes at the laundromat when I get home.” 

“It’s really no big deal.” 

“Thank you, but I’m good.” 

“Okay.” His hands go in his pockets, and he seems to get very interested in the short console table against the wall, staring at the contents lying atop it—a stack of unopened mail and what you assume are his keys and wallet.  

“So, what were you doing before I interrupted your evening?” 

“Oh—” He looks at you again. “—I was watchin’ a movie. Would you like to join me?” 

You smile. “Sure—lead the way.” 

He takes you to the living room, where a movie is paused on the television, and lets you know you can sit anywhere. Your choices are one of two armchairs and a maroon leather sofa, and you choose the sofa while he heads for the kitchen. 

“Would ya like a beer?” he calls out on his way to the other room. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond because a second later, he’s back at the doorway to the living room with a confused expression again. “Wait, are you old enough to drink…?” 

The question makes you smile. “Yes, Joel. I’m old enough to drink.” 

“Legally…?”

You giggle. “Yes. I can legally drink. You wanna card me?” 

“No.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Beer?” 

“Sounds great.” 

“Okay.” He nods. 

As you sit on the couch waiting, you become very aware of the situation you’re in. You’ve spoken to Joel one-on-one a handful of times over the last year, but it always happened at a barbecue or a holiday party—places where there were other people around—you’ve never been alone with Joel. This is new territory, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect, especially considering how he was staring at your chest. 

Would you fuck him if given the chance? Yes, zero hesitation. Do you think you have a chance with him? Maybe, and that thrills you. Just two things are working against you: your age and the fact he’s your father’s best friend. Those are two hurdles you’re not entirely sure how to get over, but you’re definitely game to try. 

Your conversations were always friendly in the past, and you’re proud to say you’ve made him laugh a few times. You think you could possibly charm him. What you know for sure is he’ll need to be very aware that you’re interested; otherwise, he won’t even fathom trying anything with you—thank god you’re wearing this dress. Nerves are swirling in your tummy at what could happen tonight, and you’re eager to see where things go. 

Joel returns with two open bottles of beer, handing you one, and you thank him as he takes a seat right next to you. He leans forward to grab the remote and hits play before sitting back and taking a drink. 

He’s so close to you that you get a whiff of his cologne—it has a spiciness to it and some citrusy notes that, when combined, smell amazing. It makes you think he took a shower when he got home from work today—and, suddenly remembering he’s a contractor, you imagine him shirtless and sweaty while using a hammer. The thought causes your mouth to go dry, so you lift your bottle to your lips for a sip, focusing on the TV. 

It’s easy to figure out what he’s watching when you see Josh Hartnett in clothes from the 1940s. 

“Pearl Harbor?” you ask, now holding your drink on your lap, picking at the label with your fingernail. 

“Yeah.” His head turns your way, his beer resting on his thigh. “Have you seen it?” 

Meeting his eyes, you answer, “Oh, yeah.”

He frowns. “Because it’s a girly movie?”

“Um, kinda? The guys are pretty easy on the eyes, and the story is interesting. I wouldn't say it’s super girly. Sure, it’s a romance, but there’s so much action and drama about the war in it.” 

“The back of the DVD said nothin’ about it bein’ a romance.”

“Are you enjoying it, at least?” you ask. 

He sighs and looks back at the television. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then enjoy it! If anyone asks what we watched, I’ll tell them Die Hard.” You lightly pat his thigh closest to you, feeling the muscles tense under your palm. 

His gaze returns to you. “You’ve seen Die Hard?”

“Yes. A few times.” 

Because it’s your dad’s favorite movie. 

His upper body slightly turns your way, his arm going behind you on the couch. The closeness and the attention he’s giving you make your skin heat. 

“I want you to settle somethin’ my brother Tommy and I disagree on—have you met Tommy?” 

“Once.” At a barbecue. He didn’t catch your attention like Joel did. “What am I settling?”

“Do you think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

“What…?”

“Tommy is fuckin’ convinced that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, and I say it’s just another action flick. A good one, but definitely not a Christmas movie.”

It takes you a second to process what he asked. 

“I mean,” you start, “it takes place on Christmas Eve, at a Christmas party, and I’d say it’s a Christmas miracle that John McClane happened to be there to save the day. So, yeah, it’s totally a Christmas movie.” 

“You’re fuckin’ with me. Just ‘cause it takes place on Christmas Eve at a Christmas party doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas movie.” 

You point the neck of your beer at him. “You forgot John McClane being a Christmas miracle. Makes sense to me that it’s a Christmas movie.” 

He takes a deep breath. “So, are you tellin’ me that—what the fuck is that movie called?” His eyes leave you as he thinks, trying to remember the name. “Lethal Weapon!” He looks at you again. “So, you’re tellin’ me that Lethal Weapon would also be a Christmas movie? Have you seen that one?” 

Yep, with your father. 

“I have, and yeah, it’s a Christmas movie. You’ve got drug dealers using a Christmas tree business as a front, Christmas is mentioned all throughout, they use a bunch of Christmas songs, and it ends at Christmas dinner. Absolutely a Christmas movie.” 

“Say you’re messin’ with me, darlin’. You know what a Christmas movie is, right? 

“Yeah, you’ve got the heavy hitters—It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, A Christmas Carol—then those stop-motion ones that are delightful. I’d put Die Hard and Lethal Weapon in the same category as Home Alone.”

“Why the hell do you think Home Alone is a Christmas movie?” 

“It’s set during the holiday season, and there’s a ton of Christmas imagery and music. Plus, you’ve got Kevin going on a similar journey as the main character in It’s a Wonderful Life where, in the end, he realizes how much he loves and needs his family—sounds pretty Christmas-y to me.” 

His jaw clenches, and it’s seconds before he inhales deeply and looks back at the TV. 

“Son of a bitch,” he sighs, shaking his head. “They’re fuckin’ Christmas movies.” He takes a long drink of his beer. 

You grin. “They are indeed,” you reply and pat his thigh again. 

His bottle lowers, and he looks over at you. “Even though you somehow made a dumbass like Tommy make sense, you’re definitely better company than him. He’d never let me live this down.” 

He’s visibly relaxed, and you have, too. The fact he’s enjoying you being there has calmed your nerves, and you’re having a great time talking to him. Plus, he’s nice to look at.

“Then it’ll be our secret,” you say. “Like how we’re totally watching Die Hard right now, and not—” Your eyes go to the TV, and they widen. “—the one sex scene in Pearl Harbor.” It’s nothing too risque and honestly kind of lame. 

Joel looks, too. “They’re just rollin’ around on the ground…” 

“It’s PG-13, Joel. I don’t know what you’re expecting from a movie where they can only say fuck once, and titties are prohibited.” 

His head turns your way. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, and when your eyes land on his, you find that he’s smiling—your heart skips a beat. 

“A good something or a bad something?” 

“A good somethin’.” 

You share his expression. “You’re something else, too.”

“A good somethin’ or a bad somethin’?”

“A very good something.”

His eyes darken, and suddenly, his attention returns to the movie. Joel clears his throat, then chugs the rest of his beer, leaning forward to set the empty bottle on the coffee table. 

When he sits back, his arm is still behind you on the top of the couch, and he scoots the tiniest bit your way to have your bodies touching. 

It’s clear that there’s a shift to the energy in the room, and the tension becomes palpable—he likes you, and you think there’s a possibility he more than likes you with how close he is. The thought has your heart pounding, and you’re unsure what to do next. You’ve only been with boys your own age, and Joel is so much older and more experienced. 

The panic has you blurting out, “Are you seeing anyone?” Then, backpedaling, “Not that it’s any of my business, so don’t feel obligated to answer.” 

He looks at you, and you keep staring at the TV, almost wishing the floor would swallow you whole. 

“Why do you wanna know?” 

“I’m nosy.” 

He huffs in amusement. “You only wanna know ‘cause you’re nosy?” 

“That’s what I said.” 

“No other reason?” 

“Can’t think of any.” 

“Okay—no, I’m not seein’ anyone. What about you? You got a boy back in Houston worryin’ about you?” 

“Nope.” 

“Really?” The genuine surprise in his voice has your head turning to see the matching expression. 

“What’s so shocking about that?”

He frowns. “I beg your pardon, darlin’. It just doesn’t make much sense that someone as pretty and fun as you doesn’t have a line of boys waitin’ their turn to take you out.” 

Those butterflies in your stomach are flapping around again. 

“Not really.” You shrug. “Plus, the guys my age usually only want sex but aren’t very, um, giving, if you know what I mean.”

Now he looks grumpy. “Selfish boys,” he grumbles, and it makes you smile. 

“So, not an issue with someone older like you. Good to know.” You squeeze his thigh and keep speaking so he can’t reply, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you single?” 

For some reason, he can’t look at you now, focusing on your hand. He reaches across his body to grab yours with his larger one, staring at your fingers. He lets out a long, weary sigh, his thumb rubbing against each of your dark blue-painted fingernails. 

“Women don’t particularly like that Sarah is the most important person in my life and my top priority…”

“But she’s your daughter, she should be your top priority.” 

“That’s the logic, but they want me all to themselves and don’t like sharing.” 

“Joel?” 

His face lifts to meet your gaze. 

“Yeah?” 

“You’ve dated some truly shitty women.” 

He smiles. “I guess I have. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve given up on datin’. It’s just a waste of time.” 

“That is such a shame.” 

His dark eyes get even darker. “You’re trouble.” 

“Why am I trouble?” 

His eyebrow arches. “Your daddy would kill me.” 

Your brain short-circuits for a second as you take in the statement—he’s into you, he’s really into you. Now, what are you going to do?

“Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask and move to put your beer on the table. When you sit back, you cuddle a little closer into his side. “You were worried about me driving home in the dark, so you offered me your guest room—we watched Die Hard, then turned in for the night. You’re a stand-up guy for keeping your friend’s daughter safe.” 

His eyes move from yours to your mouth, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face—his palm is so big his fingertips almost reach the back of your head. He starts leaning in, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought that he’s going to kiss you, and you stop breathing when his lips are only a hair’s breadth away from yours.

And then he pauses. 

“Tell me why you really came here tonight,” he rasps. 

That confuses you, your brows pulling together, and you sit back to see his face. “I did? I needed to see if you had a spare key to my dad’s house.” 

His eyes are on yours. “Bullshit—there’s no way this just happened to be the last outfit you had.” He looks directly at your tits. 

“It is if you wait super last minute to do your laundry, and I told you, I have other clothes at my dad’s. Why do you think I came over here?” 

His gaze goes back to yours. “With that dress you’re wearin’ and how you keep lookin’ at me, for a lot more than needin’ a key.” 

“You thought I came over here to seduce you…?”

“Yeah…?”

“Wow.” You gently pat his cheek. “You think I’m way bolder than I actually am—me coming here and the outfit was not premeditated.” You shake your head. 

His eyes round, and you’d think he was burned by how quickly his hand leaves you and how he moves away a little to put space between you. “Fuck, have I been readin’ this wrong?” 

You scoot to have yourself against him again. “The assumption I came here specifically to seduce you was very wrong. But you’re right that I definitely want you to fuck me, Joel.” 

“Shit,” he breathes out and scrubs a palm over his face. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.” 

Turning his way, you rub your hand along his jeans-covered thigh. “No, I’m not,” you tell him. “Stop thinking, and kiss me.” 

His hand lowers. “Not thinkin’ is gonna get me killed.” 

“Not thinking is going to get you a blow job and pussy.” You press your palm between his legs over where you can feel he’s already hardening. “Hell, I’ll sweeten the deal—you can come anywhere you want.”

His eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you smile. His reaction makes you brave. 

“Tell me you don’t want this, and we’ll go back to watching the movie and pretend nothing happened. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and we’ll go as far as you’re willing to go.” Your hand moves up to hold his cheek, and it’s a good sign when he leans into your touch as you stare into his eyes. “But I’m going to make myself crystal clear, Joel. I want you—badly.  You’re beyond sexy, and the fact you’re older and have a lot more experience than me is a big turn-on. I’d love to know what good sex is like for once and maybe have you teach me some things.” You shrug your shoulder. “It’s up to you, though. Just know I’m more than willing.” 

His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound. 

This kiss is unlike any you’ve experienced before. You’re used to overeager boys practically shoving their tongues down your throat the first chance they get, yet here’s Joel claiming your lips—you can feel his every want and his desire for you with how thoroughly he kisses you. The soft pillow of his mouth moves with yours, his scent filling your nose—hints of the beer he drank and his spicy cologne imprinting this moment in your mind. Your eyes flutter closed, and your head goes dizzy from the arousal igniting in your belly. 

Just one kiss and you know you’re ruined for anyone else. 

His arms go around you, and he mouths at your chin. “Come here,” he says against your skin. “Get in my lap.” 

You do as you’re told, bunching up the bottom of your dress at your waist and moving to straddle his thighs. His hands go under your clothes to grab your ass, and he’s so surprised to feel bare skin he leans back with the confused expression you’re becoming intimately familiar with. 

“You really didn’t come over just to fuck me?” he asks. His palms wander, and you know he’s discovered your thong when he hooks a thumb under its stretchy waistband—they were the last clean pair of underwear you had. 

“I really didn’t.” You’re curious about something. “But if I had, what are the chances that I would’ve succeeded…?” 

“With this dress and a little convincin’? Pretty good.”

You smile. “Really?” 

“Yeah. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and smart. I know this is a bad idea, and it’ll probably bite me in the ass later, but I’m so fuckin’ lonely, and you’re just too damn temptin’ to pass up.” 

The truth is clear in his eyes and makes you kiss him—your fingers comb into the hair at the back of his head, finding it softer than you thought it’d be. It starts off slow and tender, just lips to lips, until Joel deepens it, the tip of his tongue making it past your lower lip. Hearing that he’s lonely tugs at your heart, and you want to do everything you can to make that loneliness disappear. Things start to heat up, and all you can do is follow his lead, moaning as he explores your mouth with his tongue. With his palms on your backside, he helps you rock your hips, grinding yourself against his hard cock beneath his jeans, rubbing your clit just right to fan the flames growing in your core. 

When you finally need to come up for air, his hand grips your chin to turn your head as you pant, Joel kissing and nipping at your skin from the base of your neck up—tingles wash down your spine when he nibbles on your jaw. He gently bites your earlobe, and you gasp when his hot breath tickles your ear. 

He huskily whispers into it, “You want me?” His hand fondles your breast. 

“Yes.” 

“I can touch you?” 

“Anywhere.” 

“I need you to be a good girl and tell me when you do and don’t like things—understand?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl,” he purrs. 

The way those two words make your cunt clench has you moaning, ”Fuck.”

He easily unzips the back of your dress, tugging the garment up and over your head, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. You’re sitting astride his lap, the dark pools of his eyes taking in your mostly naked body, his big hands massaging your bra-covered breasts. It’s surprising that being under his gaze, you don’t immediately feel self-conscious, and you think that has to do with how he’s looking at you—the desire and appreciation clear as he admires you.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nodding towards what he’s touching. 

“Yes.” 

He sits up straighter, and it’s quick work for him to get your bra off, it landing on top of your dress. He’s focused on your tits, holding them in his palms, weighing them. He leans forward, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and the sudden shock of pleasure has your breath catching in your throat, your fingers grabbing handfuls of his shirt for something to hold onto. When he grazes his teeth over the stiff bud, your entire body shivers—your panties have a wet spot from your pussy leaking your arousal for him. He gives your other breast the same attention, leaving your skin shiny from spit when he comes off of it with a wet pop to look at you. 

“Lie down on the couch, baby.” He pats the empty seat next to him. “Your head all the way at the other end.” 

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You scramble out of his lap, the couch’s leather creaking as you crawl over to where he instructed and sit back on your elbows to see what’s happening. Joel grunts as he gets up to stand, watching in interest when he squeezes the noticeable bulge at the front of his jeans. His arm goes behind his head to grab his shirt, pulling it up and off of his body to bare his torso. 

At seeing so much of his golden skin, your jaw goes slack—his freckled chest is so broad, tapering down to his trim waist, his abs showing a little bit of muscle definition you think is from doing manual labor and not working out. Your eyes fixate on the happy trail of hair below his belly button that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Sure could get used to you lookin’ at me like that.” 

That has your attention snapping up to his face, where you find him smirking, and you close your mouth. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, your eyes darting away from him. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry about, darlin’. Makes me feel pretty fuckin’ great about the shape I’m in.” 

You look at him again. “Hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re in great shape and so hot—you’re really down to fuck me?” You point at yourself. 

He kneels on the sofa by your feet, his hand on the back of it to steady himself.

“Darlin’, if I didn’t know your daddy, and you were a stranger I met in a bar, I’d bring you home in a heartbeat. I feel like a real lucky son of a bitch that someone as young and pretty as you has any interest in an old guy like me.” He lifts one of your legs and gently kisses the inside of your ankle, the sweetness of it making you melt a little. 

“Oh, I’m very interested in you.” 

“Is that so?” he asks and spreads open your legs. He crawls over you, and you lie back, Joel nestling his hips between your thighs for you to feel how hard he is as he dips his head, kissing up the column of your throat—the nerves in your stomach flutter wildly. 

“Yes,” you whisper and need to touch him, wrapping your arms around his torso to press your palms against the warm skin on his shoulders—his body shudders, a rumbling groan coming from his chest. 

You squeak in surprise when his lips are suddenly on yours, kissing you hard. 

He takes over all of your senses—he’s all you see, he’s all you feel, he’s all you taste, he’s all you hear, he’s all you smell. It’s him, and him alone—his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his weight on top of you. Your fingers thread into his hair, moaning as he takes over your very world, reveling in this feeling of being wanted. 

His lips leave yours, both of you breathing a little heavier. His teeth gently sink into your chin before kissing along the underside of your jaw. 

He speaks into your skin, his words muffled, “I’m very interested in you, too. I shouldn’t be, but I am.” His mouth ends up at your ear, and he quietly asks, “Can I eat your pussy?” 

“Oh.” The question surprises you. “I’m usually the one who asks. Do you want me to blow you first?” There was always a quid pro quo when it came to oral. 

His head lifts to look you in the eye. 

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?” 

“You’ve been with some truly shitty boys.” 

It makes you laugh, and he smiles. 

“Ain’t that the truth,” you reply. 

“It should always be ladies first—may I?” 

What a gentleman. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Good,” he says and pecks you on the lips. 

He doesn’t immediately move off of you, and it catches you off guard. Instead, his mouth blazes a trail, kissing down your body—your neck, your chest, and your belly. This is when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head. Joel is getting up close and personal with your imperfections—your scars, stretch marks, cellulite, all those little details you normally kept hidden in the safety of dark rooms or under shirts when you hooked up with someone. Now, you’re basically naked, the lamp is on, and he can see it all, which makes you feel uneasy. 

He kisses just above your belly button, then below it, going lower and lower until he places one last kiss on your panties, over your mound. He sits up on his knees, tracing the lines and curves of your thighs and hips with his large palms while he drinks you in as you lie there—you have to fight the urge to cover yourself, unable to meet his gaze.

The silence is broken when Joel speaks. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” 

Your eyes seek out his face where you don’t find any deception, but you have to ask, “Really?” 

“Really.” He nods. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

His attention goes to the apex of your thighs, and the pink of his tongue swipes along his bottom lip as if he’s imagining how you’ll taste. He strokes the pad of his thumb over the visible damp spot on your underwear, his other hand squeezing his cock that’s straining in his jeans. 

“I bet you have the prettiest pussy, too,” he says, and gets his fingers under the elastic waistband on your panties, pulling them down and off your legs, the air cool against your now bared skin. He shuffles back a little, then bends forward, spreading your lips open with two fingers as his face hovers over it. You think your heart might beat out of your chest with how fast it’s thudding, your skin feeling so hot. “I fuckin’ knew it, such a pretty pussy,” Joel murmurs. He circles your clit with his thumb, and the pleasure has every muscle in your body tensing and your eyes closing. “You’re gonna taste so good.” 

He loudly groans as he drags the flat of his tongue along your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

“Oh, god,” you moan, your body squirming at how good it feels. 

Joel has to pin down your hips with an arm across them to keep you still, his face buried in your pussy. He goes straight to the source, lapping at your entrance to taste your arousal while the tip of his perfect nose rubs against your bundle of nerves, his facial hair prickling your skin. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

You’re fucked. 

It’s not even a minute in, and you can already feel your orgasm taking shape low in your belly, the muscles beginning to wind up. If you thought the first kiss ruined you, you know you’re ruined by how eagerly he’s eating you out—who knew this could be so good? You have to wonder how you’ll ever be able to fool around with anyone else when Joel is all you’ll be able to think about or compare it to—this is the only moment doubt invades your mind. You feel like this is all a mistake, but it’s quickly squashed by how unbelievably horny and curious you are. 

His mouth lifts, and you whine at its loss. “Gimme a second,” he pants. “I gotta see how tight you are.” That’s when one of his thick fingers presses to your soaked opening, and he slowly starts to push it inside. 

The slight stretch makes you gasp his name, your fingers clawing at the sofa’s maroon leather.  

“Christ,” Joel says. “You’re squeezin’ me. With how fuckin’ tight you are, I’d think this is your first time.” 

You sit back up on your elbows and open your eyes to look at him. 

“You just have massive fingers, and it’s been a while.” 

His gaze meets yours as he smirks. “Well, I’m gonna loosen you up with my massive fingers, and I think you’ll enjoy it.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. His head dips, flicking his tongue side-to-side against your clit when you feel the sudden pressure of his second digit pushing into you—there’s even more of a stretch and the delicious feeling of being full. You fall back on the couch, tangling your fingers into the brown waves of hair on his head, moans falling unbidden from your lips. His digits crook as they pump in and out of you, sliding along your upper wall when they press into something that elicits white-hot pleasure, making you keen and wiggle under the hold he has on your lower half.

Yeah, you’re totally and completely fucked. 

He’s relentless with his mouth and fingers as you careen toward your end, free-falling in the throes of pleasure. He’s really going to get you off, and you think you might be in love with him. Is that crazy? Falling for the guy you absolutely should not fall for—that you can’t even have any kind of future with—because it’d ruin both of your lives, especially his. 

Why does that make you want him more? 

You definitely understand now why Eve ate the forbidden fruit—the temptation leads to such sweet gratification when you give in. 

He sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth, sweeping his tongue around it, and you can hear the wet squelch of him fucking his fingers into your cunt. Your thighs are trembling—you’re so close, the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter until it snaps, and you’re coming with an unintelligible cry. Your body seizes up, euphoria exploding out from your center, radiating to your fingers and toes. Joel removes his digits, his tongue taking their place to catch every bit of your slick he can get, groaning as he lets no drop go to waste. 

You’ve never come so hard, feeling a little floaty as you ride out your high, your chest heaving heavy breaths. With how shaky your arms and legs are, you’d think you were out in the freezing cold. 

Joel’s mouth comes off of you and he sits up, rubbing his hands along the outside of your legs. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he says. “Was it good?”

“Was it good?” you parrot back at him and push yourself up into a sitting position. “It was more than good, Joel—oh my god, it was amazing.” 

The bottom half of his face glistens in the lamplight, his shiny lips turning up in a smile. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes.”

“You still wanna fuck?” 

“I think I will die if you don’t fuck me.”

He chuckles, and that’s all the answer he needs. He’s off the couch instantly, and you watch as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and gets his jeans undone, shoving them and his boxers down his legs so fast it makes you giggle. He’s balancing on one foot, peeling off his sock, and you finally get a good look at his dick—it’s hard and bobbing between his legs, the tip flushed red and shiny from precum, and your eyes round at how big he is. 

“Second thoughts?” he asks, taking off his other sock. 

Your gaze rises to his, seeing he’s frowning. “No.” You shake your head. “It’s more, ‘I sure hope that thing fits inside me.’” 

He crookedly smiles, his chest puffing up a little. “It’ll fit—I promise.” And he has the audacity to wink at you. 

Just as quickly as he got off the sofa, he’s getting back on it, kneeling in the space between your spread thighs. His attention is on your pussy, rubbing the tip of himself against your swollen clit and through your wetness. Nerves swirl in your belly, along with arousal, his free hand giving your hip a reassuring squeeze before he’s spitting on his fingers and slicking up his cock. He notches himself at your entrance, and your heart is in your throat as you hold your breath.

“Just relax, baby,” he says. “You can take me.” 

He slowly starts feeding his hard length into you, making you gasp when the fat head breaches your slick cunt, your eyes squeezing shut, your fingers digging into the couch’s leather cushions. A groan rumbles from his throat, and you answer with a drawn-out moan as he burrows his thick cock deep inside you, your tight walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. Full doesn’t even begin to describe how stuffed you are—he’s hot inside you, almost searing, and you can feel him pulsing. He bottoms out and goes completely still, his hands on your hips in a bruising grip.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he rasps. “You okay?” His thumbs stroke circles on your skin. 

“Yes.” It comes out as more of a squeak. “I just need a second.” 

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

Darlin’, baby, and now sweetheart when his dick is inside you? Is he trying to make you fall in love with him?

He bends at the waist, one hand on the couch holding up his weight while the other massages your breast, his lips wrapping around your pebbled nipple, the sparks of pleasure going straight to your pussy. Your fingers wind up in his hair; what he’s doing to you has you whimpering at how good it feels and only makes you wetter where you’re joined. He pulls each of your legs up to rest on his ribs while his mouth moves higher, kissing your sternum and up the arch of your neck, sucking on your pulse point and making you squirm underneath him. 

His hands end up on either side of your head, his lips leaving behind a wet streak of kisses along the hinge of your jaw to finally ghost over yours—you can feel his breaths and smell your musk. He’s so close it wouldn’t take much more for your mouths to meet. 

His nose nudges yours. “Need more time?” he whispers. 

Enough has passed that you don’t feel as overwhelmed. You slide your palms up his back to his shoulders. 

“No,” you answer just as quietly. “You can move.” 

He pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in as his mouth claims yours, muffling your sounds when he sets up a rhythm of long, hard strokes. You’re gone—all rational thoughts go out the window, and the only thing you can think about is how his cock is moving in and out of you. It’s so distracting you’re having trouble kissing Joel back because your brain keeps screaming, ‘so big, so full, so good.’ 

You’re feverishly clutching at his shoulder blades, your nails leaving crescent moon imprints and scratches you’re sure will bleed on his golden skin, Joel moaning into your mouth. It surprises you when you feel the familiar tension of another orgasm making itself known deep in your core, the pressure rising with each thrust, the angle of them causing him to slide against spots you never knew existed, and you don’t ever want this to end. 

His lips leave yours, pressing his forehead to your cheek. He’s breathing hard, sweat beginning to bead on his skin as he keeps the same pace. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he pants. “Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this pussy. Just wanna stay inside it until my dick is all it knows.” 

Your legs are quivering, your body is burning up, and you can’t get enough of how fucking good this feels. One time—one time—and you’re addicted, you’re drunk on the pleasure and will do anything—anything—for this to happen again. 

“It’s yours,” you gasp. “Oh, god, it’s yours!” 

His lips move to your ear, huskily asking, “It’s mine, baby? Your pussy is mine? I’m fuckin’ ya that good?” 

You’re so out of it and lost in the lust you start babbling, “Yes, it’s yours—fuck, ruin me,” you whine. 

“That’s what you want, for me to ruin your perfect little pussy?”

“Please—make me feel it. Make me ache to have your cock inside me again. Make me yours.” 

He growls, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s immediately pulling out, your eyes springing open in time to see him sit up on his knees. 

His big hands grab hold of your waist. “Flip,” is all he says, and you find yourself getting manhandled onto your front, Joel tugging you up onto your hands and knees. He wastes no time sheathing himself back inside you, pushing in so deep that your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl.

Joel’s hips are flush against your ass, the full length of him seated all the way inside of you—you can’t think, your mouth open in a silent cry. He’s filling you to the absolute brim, and it becomes evident your cup has truly runneth over. 

He was right, though. It did fit. 

A shuddery breath escapes you. He only allows you a moment to get used to the new fullness before he’s pulling out until just the tip of him remains and snapping his hips forward hard enough it knocks the air from your lungs—this is how you learn what it’s like to really be fucked, and fucked good. 

His fingers dig into the skin on your waist, pulling you back as he thrusts forward at a pace that has you lightheaded, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids each time he presses against that heavenly spot inside you. 

Warmth grows in your belly, the sounds from the TV overshadowed by the filthy cacophony of skin hitting skin and the audible wetness of his cock working in and out of your used cunt—he’s grunting with each stroke, your moans stuttering from the onslaught.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust. 

It’s a struggle to gather your thoughts and form a response with how good he’s fucking you. 

A palm lands on the side of your ass in a loud smack, the sweet sting causing you to clench around him and whimper. 

“Answer me, sweetheart,” he says. “Is this what you wanted?” 

All you can gasp out is a single word. “Yes!” 

“Am I fuckin’ you good?” 

“Yes!” 

He’s pounding into you at a near-brutal pace, the fire inside you only getting hotter as each second passes. 

“Look at me,” he orders. 

It takes everything in you to turn your head and look over your shoulder. Joel is a sight to behold—a flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, the sweat on his skin making it glisten under the lamp’s light, and his hair sticking wetly to his forehead. His eyes are heavy-lidded and glazed over, his jaw clenched. 

He slows, his gaze on yours. 

“You wanna be mine?” he asks. 

“Yes.” 

The moment your answer leaves your lips, he’s blanketing your back, holding himself up with a hand on the couch, the other going under you to palm your breast and tweak your stiff nipple with his fingers. 

He lightly bites your earlobe, his facial hair scratching your cheek when he kisses it. 

“I’m gonna make you come,” he says through heavy breaths. “Then I’m gonna fuck you full of me—you want that?” 

A shiver moves through you, and you gulp. 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl.” 

His hand smooths down your front over your stomach to between your legs, where he starts circling your clit with two fingers. It’s like a live wire along your spine, electricity sparking in your core—that added to the sensations of his cock splitting you open and pushing in and out of you has you rocketing toward your release. 

“You gonna come for me?” His hot breaths fan over your ear. “You gonna let me feel you come all over my cock? Come on, let me have it—come for me.” 

Joel’s bent over you, fucking into you harder and faster, his fingers deliciously swirling around your throbbing bud as he grunts in your ear with every thrust, all of it driving you higher and higher to your end. 

You’re so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you falling over the edge—the muscles in your belly pull tight, your orgasm ripping through you, gasping Joel’s name. He sucks in a breath when your pussy clamps down on him, then loudly groans, continuing to fuck you through your high, and doesn’t stop—his fingers keep up their assault on your clit, and his hips snap into you in quick, short bursts that extend your high. You come, and come, and come to the point your arms give out, and your body shakes and twitches from all of the pleasure coursing through it. 

When you think you can’t take any more, relief washes over you that Joel follows suit. With one last thrust, he buries himself all the way to the hilt inside you as he falls forward, his front framing your back, his teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder. He comes with a dirty, rumbling groan—you feel his dick thicken and pulse, hot spurts of his spend filling you. He grinds his hips, fucking it as deep as it will go, then stills.  

The movie’s ending credits are playing, hearing the music and your and Joel’s ragged breaths as you both come down. He’s at the same awkward angle as you, with your hips up and your faces down—his sweaty chest is pressed to your back, your bodies sticking together everywhere they touch. It’s not the most comfortable position, but with how your limbs tremble, you’re not entirely sure you can even move. 

You asked him to ruin you, and oh boy, did he deliver—you’re absolutely, positively ruined. It kills you that after whatever this night is, you’ll have to go back to subpar sex with guys who couldn’t find the clit if they were given a map and detailed directions. This is the second time tonight that you fear you’ve made a grave mistake hooking up with Joel, and the post-sex clarity is not helping the situation at all. 

What were you thinking?

That’s easy; you weren’t. Or, at the very least, you weren’t thinking with your brain. Your pussy took the lead on this one, and it looks like she’s gotten you into a bit of a situation. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when Joel’s arm wraps around your middle, and he turns you two onto your sides, the couch just barely wide enough to fit you both. 

“Tha’s better,” Joel slurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. His hand over your stomach feels around until he finds your smaller one, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest—oh, he’s cuddling with you. It’s unexpected and nice. You close your eyes and enjoy this taste of intimacy. 

Many minutes pass before he mumbles something you can’t make out. 

“I’m sorry,” you start and are immediately embarrassed by how hoarse and scratchy your voice sounds from all the sounds you made tonight. You clear your throat and try again, “I’m sorry—what did you say?” 

He turns his face so it’s out of your hair. 

“I asked if you wanna stay over,” he says. 

You smile. “Are you getting forgetful, Joel? You said I could stay over when I got here.” 

“Fuckin’ smartass,” he grumbles, and you giggle. “What I meant was, do you wanna stay in my room? With me,” he clarifies. 

“Only if you’re okay that I sleep naked—I’m not wearing my dress to bed.” 

“Was kinda hopin’ you’d be naked.” He kisses your shoulder. “But if you’re more comfortable wearin’ somethin’, I can get you one of my t-shirts—it’s no big deal.” 

“It baffles me that you’re single.” 

“Why?”

“Uh, because you’re incredibly sweet, amazing in bed, a great father, very handsome, hardworking, and just an all-around catch. If I had the opportunity, and you know, there wasn’t the elephant in the room—” The fact he’s much older than you and one of your dad’s best friends. “—I’d date you in a heartbeat. If you ever give dating a shot again, you’re going to make one lucky woman very happy.” 

“Fuck,” Joel groans, letting go of your hand to press his palm to his face. “What the hell am I doin’?”

That makes your stomach drop, and you frown—he’s regretting everything, and you can’t blame him. The post-sex clarity is a real bitch sometimes. 

“Stressing for no reason,” you reply. You’re pretty sure you can walk, so you get up from the sofa, ignoring how wobbly your legs feel and his come leaking down your thigh. “Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask, looking toward the floor for your clothes. “You let me stay the night ‘cause you were worried about me driving home in the dark.” You carefully bend down to pick up your thong, followed by your bra and dress. “We watched Die Hard,” you continue, straightening to stand. “Then turned in for the night to our respective bedrooms. You’re a real stand-up guy for caring so much about your friend’s daughter’s safety.” 

You can’t even look at him, focusing instead on the TV where the Pearl Harbor DVD’s menu is on screen. 

“Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” 

“Tryin’ to pretend nothin’ happened.” 

“You clearly wish nothing happened, so nothing happened—where’s the bathroom?” You need to clean up, and you’re tempted to just leave altogether. 

“Up the stairs, second door on the right—when the hell did I say I wished nothin’ happened?” 

“You didn’t have to. Your ‘what the hell am I doin’?’ was enough for me to get it.” You hug your clothes closer to your body. “Anyways, thanks for tonight. I think I’m just gonna use the bathroom and get out of here. I don’t want you to worry, so I’ll stay at that cheap motel by the highway.” The sign said it was twenty-something dollars a night, and you can swing that. You start heading toward the stairs. 

“Hey, stop.” You don’t. You keep walking, willing the unshed tears in your eyes not to fall. 

Why are you so upset? You’re well aware that this can only be a one-time thing. It was something fun and sexy where you got to fuck the older, unattainable guy you’ve been crushing on for a while. It wasn’t anything serious, and couldn’t be anything serious, because there’s no future for you two together. Not when he’s a good friend of your father’s. That kills any chance of having a relationship with Joel. 

What hurts is he regrets it and wishes it never happened—you’re a mistake, and who wants to be someone’s mistake? 

His heavy footsteps sound behind you. “Darlin’, stop,” he says again, and you continue ignoring him. Fingers latch around your bicep and lightly tug. “Please, stop for a second. Talk to me.” Finally, you do as he’s requested, standing still in front of the staircase. He turns you to look at him in his big brown eyes, his hands holding your arms. 

“I don’t wish nothin’ happened,” he says. “You were talkin’ about how if things were different, you’d date me, but since they are the way they are, you won’t. I was thinkin’ to myself ‘what the hell am I doin’ wishin’ you’d change your mind,’ when I know it’s for the best.”

“Oh—really?” 

Hope swells in your chest, butterflies fluttering around in your tummy. 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Tell me you want nothin’ more to do with me, and I’ll grab you a towel and some of my clothes so you can wash up and retire to the guest room unless you’re truly set on stayin’ in a motel. In that case, I’ll pay for your room somewhere safer and much nicer, so I know you’ll be okay. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and I’ll take you up to my bedroom so we can shower, either together or separately, whatever you’re comfortable with. Then we can get into my bed where we can talk and figure things out.” 

It sounds like he doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing, either, and that makes you so happy you let your clothes fall to the floor to throw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. Joel groans, his arm sliding behind your back, hugging you closer to him, his other hand cradling your cheek. Suddenly, he’s backing you up until your heels hit the first step, and he guides you to sit on a higher one, Joel kneeling on a lower stair to be at the right height that his hips slot between your thighs when he lays you back. He licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. 

With how good he made you feel tonight, how wanted, you need more of him. There’s a looming fear in the back of your mind that this is too good to be true—that you’ll never be with him like this again, which makes you desperate for him. Your hand snakes its way between your bodies, taking his half-hard cock into your palm, slowly stroking it—a low rumble comes from the back of Joel’s throat. He gets his hand to the juncture of your thighs, sliding his fingers through the puffy lips of your sex, gathering your arousal and his come on his fingertips to rub at your swollen clit. 

“You’re mine,” he says into your lips. 

“I’m yours,” you answer. 

This is how you end up fucking on the stairs, Joel thrusting into you at a pace that has your toes curled and your fingers gripping his ass—your spine tingles from his mouth exploring your neck, mapping out the spots that make you gasp and moan, and you’re in heaven. 

A door slams shut on the other side of the railing, and your eyes fly open.

“Hey, Asshole!” a man calls. 

Joel’s hand covers your mouth, and you watch the intruder walk through the dining room to the kitchen without seeing you. 

“I brought over pizza so you can stop bein’ a sad and lonely sonofabitch!” 

Joel immediately pulls out and gets off you, using his strength to help you flip over. “Upstairs,” he whispers, tapping you on the hip, and you go as quickly and quietly as you can with Joel following. 

You make it to the second-story landing, and he grabs your hand, tugging you all the way down the hall into what you know is his bedroom by how it smells like him. He closes the door and locks it before beelining to his dresser, roughly pulling out one drawer from which he grabs a burgundy t-shirt, then another that he gets a pair of stretchy gray sweatpants. 

“Is this a dress?!” Is yelled from downstairs. “Do you have a girl over?! Who’d wanna fuck your sorry ass?!”

Surprisingly, the clothes in Joel’s hands are not for him; he shoves them into your arms and ushers you over to his bathroom. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, flicking on the light, the fan automatically turning on. “It’s Tommy. Stay in here, and I’ll kick him out.” Obnoxiously loud footsteps are coming up the stairs, and he has to take a deep breath, his eyes to the sky like he’s praying God will smite his brother right this second. “Lord, give me strength,” he breathes. 

“Where would you even meet a girl?!” Tommy asks from the hallway. “All you do is work—you never go out.” 

Joel pecks you on the lips. “I’ll be right back—stay in here,” he tells you again, and this time, he leaves, shutting the door behind him. 

There’s banging on the bedroom door, and your ears perk up as you put on the clothes. 

“Go home, Tommy,” he says. 

“Not until I know who this pretty dress belongs to.” 

“Give me that—it’s none of your fuckin’ business. Leave.” 

“Come on, Joel—we know the same people. Did you finally give in to Nikki? She’s wanted to go out with you for a long fuckin’ time.” 

“No, and it’s still none of your fuckin’ business who I have in the house I pay for. So, get goin’, or I’m gonna make you go.” 

“You can be a real dick, Joel. Why are you bein’ so fuckin’ secretive?”

“Do I ask about who you take home from the bar?” 

“No, but—”

“Exactly,” Joel interrupts. “I don’t give a fuck what you do in your spare time, and I sure as hell don’t need to tell you what I do in mine, so leave, Tommy—I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.” 

“With how fuckin’ grouchy you are, I don’t think you got laid at all—I’m gonna get goin’ ‘cause you clearly need the company of a woman. Bye, mystery woman with the pretty dress hidin’ in Joel’s bathroom!” he yells. “Hopefully you can cheer this fucker up! Enjoy the pizza!” 

It goes quiet, and you think Joel left the room, too. You can’t go anywhere, so you decide to take in your surroundings—the bathroom is cleaner than you’d expect from a single man, you have to put the toilet seat down when you pee, and as you’re washing your hands, you notice there’s only one toothbrush in a cup. 

You know you shouldn’t snoop, but you pull open the medicine cabinet and find an extra tube of toothpaste, some Tylenol, Ibuprofen, a thing of pain relief cream, then a shelf with a few medicine bottles that intrigues you—prescription pain pills, antidepressants, and heartburn medication. No red flags, but you’re a little worried about how much pain he’s in. You close the cabinet, and soft knocking on the bathroom door makes you jump. 

“You can come out,” Joel’s muffled voice says. “He’s gone.” 

Walking over to the door, you open it, Joel leaning against the doorframe in a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants he must’ve put on before talking to Tommy. 

He sighs. “So, that was my brother.” 

“Seems nice—if I remember correctly, he’s younger, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That explains how annoying he is.” 

He smiles, and an amused huff leaves him. “Yeah, he’s annoyin’ alright.” 

“We have the house to ourselves?” 

“We do—I walked him out myself.” 

You grin. “Wonderful.” You grab a fistful of his shirt. “Because I think you said something about us showering together, and I’d like to do that right now, then go eat pizza—I’ve somehow worked up an appetite,” you tell him and pull him forward; he happily comes your way with a smirk. 

“Worked up an appetite, huh?” he asks, his eyes on your mouth. 

“Yes. No clue how.” 

He closes the distance, his lips almost touching yours, when he replies, “Let me remind you how,” and kisses you. 

An hour later, you’re walking down the stairs clean and in your borrowed clothes. 

“Can we eat then go to bed?” you ask, through a yawn. “I had classes today, and that long ass drive, plus all the sex. I’m so damn tired.” 

Joel’s behind you in just his sweatpants. 

“I’m fuckin’ tired, too. That sounds good to me.” 

The only lights on downstairs are the lamps in the living room. You walk into the dark kitchen, Joel flipping on the light as he follows, and you head for the stove where the pizza is, popping open the box to see it’s pepperoni. 

“I’ll grab us some plates,” Joel says, rubbing your upper arms. He kisses the top of your head before stepping over to a cabinet.

Turning around, you’re about to ask Joel where the cups are when the dining room light comes on, Tommy standing by the switch. You gasp in shock; Joel’s immediate reaction is to grab a knife from the knife block and get between you and the unwanted visitor—it takes him a second to recognize it’s his brother. 

“Goddammit, Tommy!” Joel shouts and slams the butcher knife onto the countertop. “Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?!”

“No,” his brother answers, shaking his head, and he looks a little too amused. “But you sure the hell are! Her?!” He points at you and has the audacity to laugh. “Oh, god, Joel,” he says through his glee and grabs the back of a chair, his other hand on his chest as he chuckles. “Her daddy is gonna kill you—you’re fucked!”

Joel sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, perching a palm on his hip. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says. “I’m a dead man walking.” 

“You are!” Tommy calms down, and his shit-eating grin annoys you. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” he asks. “I mean, I know what you were thinkin’. I just can’t get over you not only robbin’ the fuckin’ cradle, but bangin’ your best buddy’s daughter. How long has whatever this is—” He gestures at you both. “—been goin’ on?” 

“It just happened tonight—I don’t need you lecturin’ me on right and wrong. I know it’s a fucked up situation.” 

A fucked up situation? Ouch. The comment has you crossing your arms over your chest, staring at the floor. 

“Fucked up is right, and I’ve got no fuckin’ idea how you’re gonna get out of it. Her daddy finds out about this, and he’s gonna shoot you deader than dead.” 

“I told you I didn’t want you lecturin’ me.” 

Tommy puts his hands up. “Hey, I’m not lecturin’. I’m just statin’ the facts. I wanna make sure you know this thing between you two could get you killed. You’ve got a daughter, Joel—what would you do in this situation?” 

“Woah,” you interrupt, moving to stand beside Joel—Tommy’s comment about Sarah is a fucking nuke you need to try and hopefully defuse. “First of all, I just want to point out that I am a consenting adult and can fuck whoever I want. Second, I need to set the record straight and say that my dad isn’t going to kill anyone. He’ll be mad as hell if he finds out, but he isn’t going to commit murder because, truth be told, he’s never given a fuck about my life choices. I’d also like to add that this is kinda his fault for not having me visit more often because now Joel and I are pretty much strangers, and this whole thing isn’t as bad as it sounds.” 

“It’s still pretty bad, honey,” Tommy replies, his attention turning to you, smiling. 

“Maybe, but it’s also nobody’s business who I fuck.” 

“Sure, but this person you fucked is one of your daddy’s best friends whose—no offense—way too old for you.” 

“Why does everyone keep callin’ me old?” Joel grumbles. 

Tommy looks at his brother. “‘Cause you are, you old man.” He suddenly looks like he just realized something. “Wait a goddamn minute,” Tommy says. “Joel, are you havin’ a midlife crisis? You’re around the age people have those, right? It’d make sense why you’d risk your life to fuck her.” 

“Get out, Tommy,” Joel replies, pointing toward the front door. “I’ve had enough of you.” 

His younger brother pouts. “‘Cause I called you old?” 

“Out.” 

“Fine.” He slowly starts walking toward the hallway that leads to the front door. “I’ll get out of your hair so the two of you can enjoy the rest of your night. Bye!” 

The door loudly closes as he leaves. 

Well, you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen now. Between the comment about Sarah and the other things that had been said, you wouldn’t be surprised if Joel ends this. You might as well cut your losses and get it over with to save yourself from more heartbreak. 

Your eyes are on the ground, the first tear falling down your cheek. “After all that, I know whatever this is is probably over,” you quietly say. “But is there a chance I can still sleep in your bed with you tonight? And if you’re willing, have you hold me?”

He turns and pulls you into his arms.

“Yeah, you can sleep with me,” he answers and kisses your hair. “But I’m gonna need you to stop.” 

You lean back to look at him with watery eyes. “Stop what?” 

A sad smile is on his lips. “Jumpin’ to conclusions without talkin’ to me. You’ve already got one foot out the door, and I haven’t even opened it.”

“It’s just everything Tommy said.” 

He lightly squeezes your biceps. “Tommy was bein’ a little shit. You were right when you said this isn’t as bad as it sounds, but you gotta be honest with me about somethin’.” 

“What?” you ask.

His hands come up to hold your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have fallen. “Are you positive your daddy won’t kill me? I’ve got Sarah to think about, and even though I like you a lot, I’m not gonna risk dyin’ to be happy.” 

The sweetest man and the best father.

You think about it for a second, and the sad truth is you can’t imagine your dad killing anyone for you—he doesn’t love you that much. He doesn’t love you to the same degree that Joel loves Sarah. With how easily Joel grabbed a knife to protect you, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d kill for his daughter without hesitation. 

“He’ll be pissed off, but he isn’t going to kill you. We also don’t need to tell him anything unless this turns into something. We can keep it to ourselves for now.” 

He hums in agreement. “You know, if you wanted, you could start comin’ here to do your laundry...” 

You smile. “How will you explain that to Sarah?” 

“That I’m helpin’ you out, which is true. Plus, I’ve got the guest room.” 

“Uh huh, the guest room that I’ll sleep in?” 

“Yes.” He nods. 

“Alone?” 

“I sleepwalk.” 

You snort. “Stop it.” You playfully push his chest. “Sarah is not gonna believe you sleepwalked into the guest room.” 

He snatches your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. “Who said anythin’ about Sarah knowin’ I’m in the guest room, or you bein’ in my room for that matter, while she’s sleepin’? There are also nights like tonight she spends with friends.” 

“You really want me to hang out here?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to have company that isn’t Tommy.”

“I believe that. As long as I’m not a bother, I’ll do my laundry here.”

He smiles. “Not a bother, and you can wash your clothes tomorrow and stay another night. You could even stay over Sunday, too, since you have Monday off—you’re more than welcome.”

You loop your arms around his neck. “Yes, Joel. I will spend my long weekend with you.” 

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “Good.” 

Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[harrysfolklore]

Hi babes how are you?? can you write something with jade thirlwall as your face claim please? Thanks❤❤

the great escape - cl16

summary: the final race of the f1 calendar and yn's final show of her world tour are happening the same day. will charles make it on time?

folkie radio: I CAN'T BELIEVE THE SEASON IS OVER. WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO UNTIL MARCH??? anyway, this is 100% inspired by the final race and the final eras tour show happening during the same day and i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande and 2,820,604 others

yourinstagram seattle you were UNREAL tonight! the energy was everything and more! this lifetimes world tour has been the journey of my dreams 🌟 thank you for making every single show so special!

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username1 BEST GIRL EVER

username2 THE SHOW WAS AMAZING

charles_leclerc You were incredible mon amour ❤️ The way you light up that stage... Proud doesn't even begin to cover it

↳ username1 CHARLIEEE

↳ username2 he’s such a simp

↳ username3 i need my man to hype me up like this

lewishamilton Killed it as always 🔥

username4 THE WAY CHARLES ALWAYS COMMENTS FIRST ON HER POSTS I CAN'T 😭

username5 anyone else notice he's been liking her posts exactly 1 minute after they're uploaded? 👀

username6 missing the days when they tried to hide their relationship now they're just being cute everywhere

username7 TOUR OF THE DECADE

bellahadid mother 😍😍

username8 SOMEONE TELL ME HOW TO PROCESS THE "mon amour" COMMENT

username9 charles watching from Monaco at 4am again we see

username10 I CANT BELIEVE THIS TOUR IS COMING TO AN END

liked by maxverstappen1, yourinstagram and 1,765,499 others

charles_leclerc A Sunday I’ll forever remember 🇮🇹❤️

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username1 FORZAAAA CHARLES

username2 and that's how you do it

arthur_leclerc ❤️

username3 THE KING OF MONZA FOREVER

username4 SO DESERVED

username5 uughh sucks that yn couldn't be there

landonorris Well done mate!

username6 just missing his girl i'm crying

username7 did anyone else catch him grabbing his phone as soon as he stepped off the podium? probably calling yn

username8 THE CHAMPIONSHIP IS POSSIBLE

yourinstagram YES YES YES ! so proud of you babyyyy 🥺

username9 someone reunite yn and charles asap i can't do this

username10 THAT WINNER GLOW

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liked by username1, username2 and 41,927 others

f1gossip CHARLES LECLERC SPOTTED IN NASHVILLE!

Man really flew straight from Austin → Mexico→ Brazil and then to Nashville all in 15 days just to see YN perform! Talk about a supportive boyfriend

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username1 I LOVE HIM SM

username2 Bro finished P3 in Mexico, P1 in Austin and instead of resting he's here... that's love

username3 ferrari's physio is having a breakdown watching this

username4 the way he's been to 13 shows this tour despite racing... abu dhabi to vegas doesn't seem impossible anymore 👀

username5 he really said "sleep is for the weak"

username6 HES SO IN LOVE

username7 using his days off to fly across the world to see her... meanwhile I can't get a text back

username8 such a fanboy

username9 they need to get married idc

username10 im going to be devastated if he doesn’t make it to the final show

liked by username1, username2 and 39,605 others

ynupdates "So, um, funny story about this next song... I wrote it after watching someone very special to me race in Monaco last year. He crashed his Ferrari, which was absolutely terrifying by the way. But afterward, he just looked at me and said 'At least I looked cool doing it, no?' And somehow that turned into 'Reckless Driving'... which, Charles, I know you're back there trying to hide under your hoodie, but you're still not forgiven for that crash." -YN in Nashville tonight

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username1 his face was SO RED

username2 ot Charles trying to sink into his seat when she mentioned Monaco 💀

username3 I LOVE ONE COUPLE

username4 the way he still gets shy every time she mentions him on stage even though they've been together for 2 years 🥺

username5 charles collecting tour moments like infinity stones... Abu Dhabi to Vegas IS happening guys

username6 "you're still not forgiven" MA'AM YOU WROTE A WHOLE SONG ABOUT IT

username7 THE WAY PIERRE WAS JUST POINTING AND LAUGHING AT HIM

username8 he's been to so many shows and still blushes every time she mentions him I can't 😭

username9 the fact that one of her biggest hits came from him crashing a Ferrari... iconic

username10 I LOVE THEM SOOO BAD

liked by yourinstagram, lewishamilton and 2,033,765 others

charles_leclerc Ready for the final push. Been an incredible season so far... but the best moments have been watching you shine @/yourinstagram❤️

view all comments

username1 CHARLIEEEE

username2 this is so cute

yourinstagram the best cheerleader in the paddock ❤️ (even when you're half asleep from jet lag)

↳ username1 AWEEEE

↳ username2 i love them so bad

carlossainz55 Focus on the championship... then we plan the great escape 🏃‍♂️

↳ username1 THE FACT THAT THEY’RE ALREADY PLANNING

username3 THE TENSION IS KILLING US WILL HE MAKE IT TO THE FINAL SHOW OR NOT

scuderiaferrari Eyes on the prize🏆

username4 anyone else tracking flights from abu dhabi to vegas just in case? no? just me?

username5 man's about to break the sound barrier trying to get to that show

landonorris Better start practicing those quick pit stop exits mate

username6 not me already emotional thinking about if he makes it 😭

username7 the way he hasn't confirmed or denied if he's going to make it... the STRESS

username8 time zones are just a social construct anyway

username9 I LOVE ONE FAIRYTALE COUPLE

username10 this duo is the best thing that happened

liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa and 2,509,578 others

yourinstagram 161 shows. 89 cities and somehow it still feels like yesterday when we opened in tokyo. to every single person who's been part of this lifetimes world journey - my heart is so full. these last few shows are going to be extra special ✨🌟

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username1 IM CRYING

username2 IF WE COULD ONLY TURN BACK TIME

charles_leclerc Still remember when you were so nervous before that first show in Tokyo... now look at you. La mia stella ⭐️

↳ yourinstagram i love you

taylorswift The most magical tour! So proud of you 🥺✨

pierregalsy @/charles_leclerc remember when you made us watch the Tokyo livestream in the simulator room? 😂

username3 NOT ME CRYING AT 3AM READING THIS

username4 LIFETIMES TOUR FOREVER 🌟

username5 still can't believe she changed her entire tour schedule to avoid clashing with race weekends... except the last show 😭

scuderiaferrari Looking forward to getting our garage singer back after tour ends

username6 the most supportive F1 boyfriend despite the insane schedules... we love to see it

username7 TOUR OF THE DECADE

sabrinacarpenter most perfect girl ever 💘

username8 that last show is going to make us all weep

username9 I CANT BELIEVE I WAS PART OF THIS

username10 if charles doesn’t make it to her last show istg

liked by username1, username2 and 43,758 others

f1gossip SPOTTED: YN in the Vegas paddock supporting Charles before tonight's race! Sources say she's been here since Thursday's practice sessions 👀

view all comments

username1 POWER COUPLE

username2 they’re so hot

username3 she's been to every practice session... meanwhile charles calculating flight times to her final show 👀

username4 ferrari PR trying to handle both of them being extra cute in the paddock 😂

username5 THE WAY SHE FIXES HIS HELMET BEFORE EVERY SESSION 🥺

username6 taking a break from tour rehearsals to support her man... we love to see it

username7 the way she knows all the Ferrari crew by name now 🥺

username8 both of their face cards create a face economy

username9 IT COUPLE FOREVER

username10 i love yn at the paddock

liked by username1, username2 and 42,038 others

charlesupdates “I mean... if I have to sprint from the car in Abu Dhabi still in my race suit, that's what I'll do. Some things are more important than post-race protocols, no? Fred might kill me but... I've watched her grow so much during this tour, and I'm not missing that final show. I'll figure it out.” -Charles about the final race taking place the same day of his girlfriend’s final show!

view all comments

username1 AHHHH

username2 this is so cute

username3 translation: I already have 3 different backup plans and a private jet on standby

username4 THE WAY HE JUST OPENLY ADMITTED HE'S PLANNING TO DITCH POST-RACE 😭

username5 "Some things are more important than post-race protocols" STOP IM CRYING

username6 Charles "I'll break every FIA rule for my girl" Leclerc

username7 man's really about to set a new record for fastest post-race exit

username8 remember when they tried to be subtle about their relationship? now he's planning a great escape on live tv😭

username9 YUP IM CRYING OVER THIS

username10 best couple ever fr

liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande and 2,879,044 others

yourinstagram vegas race weekend dump 🏎️❤️ from trying (and failing) to understand strategy meetings to @/pierregasly teaching me proper radio etiquette... might have to come to more races if the view is this good 😌 now off to the final shows ! see you tomorrow night philly 🌟

view all comments

username1 ICONICCCC

username2 queen of the paddock actually

scuderiaferrari Our favorite honorary team member ❤️

username3 we need her at every race actually

username4 from selling out arenas to falling asleep in F1 strategy meetings... we love a versatile queen

username5 the way the whole team has adopted her though 😭

adele Gorgeous ✨✨

carlossainz55 Those strategy ideas weren't bad actually... 🤔

username6 living for boyfriend charles content

username7 pierre and yn’s friendship tho

francisca.cgomes miss youuuu🤍

username8 NOW CHARLES NEEDS TO MAKE IT TO HER FINAL SHOW

username9 i’ve died dead

charles_leclerc Love you mon amour ❤️

username10

username11 "might have to come to more races" PLEASE DO 😭

username12 that helmet pic is giving "take your girlfriend to work day" energy

username13 he fact that she changed her final show time to match the potential race end time... we see you 👀

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liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 1,027,847 others

pierregasly Practicing the escape route for Abu Dhabi -> Vegas next week. Current time to beat: plane to venue in 2 hours 37 minutes.

The things my boy does for love @/charles_leclerc 🏃‍♂️✈️

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username1 I CANT DO THISSSS

username2 bffs i love them

charles_leclerc You're the best getaway driver a man could ask for 🫡

yourinstagram not you two literally timing his sprints through the plane... i can't with you both 😭❤️

username3 THE WAY THEY'RE PLANNING THIS LIKE AN OCEAN'S 11 HEIST

lewishamilton Helicopter already fueled up boys

username4 pierre really said "professional racer AND escape route planner"

username5 this friendship>>>

username6 bestie behavior is planning your friend's cross-continental love sprint

landonorris you both are mental 😂😂

username7 pierre "i will get this man to his girl" gasly strikes again

scuderiaferrari Preparing the great escape as we speak

username8 friendship is when your bro times your airport sprints

username9 pierre taking "wing man" to new heights fr fr

username10 THIS IS REALLY SERIOUS

francisca.cgomes Partners in crime 😭

username11 I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE

username12 long live piarles

liked by yourinstagram, carlossainz55 and 2,038,368 others

charles_leclerc One more race. Then Vegas calling 👀✈️

view all comments

username1 IM SEATED

username2 i can’t believe this season is coming to an end

pierregasly Your bag is already in Vegas btw. Yes I packed the good cologne 😌

↳ username1 pierre is the best wingman ever

carlossainz55 My media training about to come in clutch tomorrow covering for you 🏃‍♂️

↳ username2 the way the entire paddock is just helping out

maxverstappen1 Plane's fueled up mate. Just say when

username3 OPERATION GET CHARLES TO VEGAS IS A GO!!!!11!!

username4 NOT ME TRACKING 27 DIFFERENT FLIGHTS FROM ABU DHABI TO VEGAS RN 😭😭

username5 the way this man bout to break the land speed record getting to that airport HELP

username6 HE BETTER MAKE IT OR WE RIOTING FR FR

username7 the whole paddock helping him escape is giving romance movie of the year idc idc

username8 NOT NOW GUYS IM CALCULATING TIME ZONES AND FLIGHT PATHS 📝😤

username9 the way he planned his whole race weekend around making this show... boyfriend of the year???

username10 imagine being so whipped you plan an intercontinental sprint... we love to see it 😭

yourinstagram break a leg baby ❤️ (but like... not literally bc you need to run fast tomorrow)

liked by charles_leclerc, madisonbeer and 3,674,033 others

yourinstagram 24 hours until the final lifetimes show. still can't believe we're here. to everyone who's been part of this journey - my heart is so full it might burst. vegas, let's make this one special ✨

(yes i'm wearing his jacket for good luck don't @ me)

view all comments

username1 I CANT BELIEVE ITS OVER

username2 man im going to cry

username3 NOT ME TRACKING EVERY PRIVATE JET FROM ABU DHABI RN 😭😭

charles_leclerc that jacket's never looked better mon coeur. see you soon 🏃‍♂️✈️

↳ username1 SOMEONE CHECK IF HIS RACE IS DONE YET PLS

username4 THE WAY WE'RE ALL WATCHING F1, SHOW LIVESTREAM AND REFRESHING FLIGHT RADAR AT THE SAME TIME

carlossainz55 Don't worry i'll handle the press so he can SPRINT

↳ username2 SHES SO LOVED

dualipa PROUD OF YOU ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

troyesivan tour of the century

username5 half of us watching the race, half tracking flights, half crying about the tour ending... math who???

mercedesamgf1 Our helicopter offer still stands @/charles_leclerc just saying

username6 NOT THE WHOLE F1 PADDOCK HELPING THIS MAN MAKE IT IN TIME... netflix been real quiet since this dropped fr

username7 IM SO PROUF OF HERRRR

username8 planning my own wedding but somehow more invested in this man making it to vegas help 💀

username9 NO YN DONT GOOO

username10 this show is going to be legendary

liked by username1, username2 and 59,726 others

f1updates BREAKING: OPERATION GET CHARLES TO VEGAS IS GO! 🏃‍♂️✈️

- Race finished 9:47pm Abu Dhabi time

- Fastest cooldown lap in F1 history

- Shortest post-race interview ever ("Yes car good thanks bye")

- Carlos creating chaos as distraction

- Pierre with the getaway bag

- Entire grid covering for him

- Multiple transport options ready

YN's show starts in 11 hours. IT'S HAPPENING.

view all comments

username1 everyone say thank you ferrari mechanics for that 0.5 second car shutdown

username2 never seen this man move so fast in his LIFE

username3 "how was the race carlos?" "LOOK OVER THERE A DISTRACTION"

username4 THE WAY HE YEETED HIMSELF OUT THAT CAR HELP 💀

username5 charles really said post race protocol who??? don't know her???

username6 never seen someone get out of race suit that fast tbh

username7 someone tell sky sports to stop looking for him he's GONE gone

username8 OPERATION YEET CHARLES TO VEGAS STATUS: ENGAGED

username9 charles doing his interview WHILE WALKING is sending me

username10 the whole paddock moving like secret service agents i can't 💀

username11 live footage of charles breaking land speed records to the airport

username12 netflix punching air rn that they missed filming this

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liked by username1, username2 and 67,864 others

f1updates🚨CHARLES LECLERC HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING 🚨

CONFIRMED DETAILS:

- Arrived during 6th song

- Still in race weekend stubble

- Pierre waiting with water bottle

- Security running interference

- Straight from plane to venue

- VIP entrance at 10:47pm

WE REPEAT: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED 🏃‍♂️✈️

view all comments

username1 IM CRYING

username2 I CANT BELIEVE HE MADE IT

username3 THE WAY THE WHOLE ARENA JUST GASPED???

username4 not me crying in section 103 watching him sprint to his seat 😭

username5 charles 🤝 cinderella = racing against midnight

username6 THE WAY YN STUMBLED OVER HER LYRICS WHEN SHE SAW HIM BYE-

username7 everyone who helped track his flight, we did it joe 😭

username8 security guard: sir you need to wal-

charles: I JUST FLEW 8000 MILES LET ME RUN

username9 yn’s smile when she saw him... brb sobbing

username10 THE WAY HE JUST COLLAPSED IN THAT SEAT LIKE HE RAN A MARATHON

username11 him mouthing "i made it" to her... i'm going to pass away

username12 section 201 reporting: his hair is still sweaty from racing and he's BEAMING at her like she hung the stars i'm literally deceased

username13 the way she kept giggling during the ballad bc he was still panting from running... HELP THIS IS SO CUTE???

username14 pierre handing him water and fixing his collar while yn's trying not to cry on stage... the CHAOS of it all

username15 THE WAY HE HASNT STOPPED SMILING AT HER SINCE HE SAT DOWN... boy ran across the world just to see her shine 🥺

username16 not the backup dancers crying bc he made it... WE'RE ALL EMOTIONAL OK

username17 THE WAY SHE KEEPS GETTING DISTRACTED BC HE'S FINALLY THERE... girl same i can't focus either

username18 everyone in the arena watching him catch his breath in that seat like we all just completed a mission together... WE DID IT YALL 😭

liked by username1, username2 and 59,068 others

yntourupdates TRANSCRIPT OF YN TALKING ABOUT CHARLES (while trying not to cry):

"So um... *laughs* someone just flew literally across the world to be here... *wipes tear* ran straight from his race... didn't even change... *crowd screams* ...and made it just in time for this next song. Which is funny because... I actually wrote this one about someone who would cross oceans just to make me smile... *voice breaks* ...and well... *looks at charles* ...guess I manifested that huh?"

SOMEONE HOLD ME 😭

view all comments

username1 THE WAY HE JUST BURIED HIS FACE IN HIS HANDS WHEN SHE SAID THAT-

username2 NOT THE ENTIRE ARENA TURNING TO LOOK AT HIM SOBBING IN THE FRONT ROW

username3 she really said "wrote a song about someone crossing oceans for me" and he said BET WATCH ME DO IT IRL

username4 section 304 reporting: grown men crying. me crying. everyone crying.

username5 HE LOOKS SO PROUD BUT ALSO EMOTIONAL BUT ALSO EXHAUSTED BUT ALSO SO IN LOVE HELP???

username6 NOT HER VOICE CRACKING WHEN SHE LOOKED AT HIM... netflix been real quiet since this dropped fr

username7 someone tell charles to stop looking at her like that i'm fighting for my life in row 23 😭

username8 the backup dancers wiping their eyes while doing choreo... we're all emotional messes tonight

username9 she really manifested a whole man flying across continents... her power??????

username10 yn crying, charles crying, dancers crying, crowd crying, me crying, everyone crying

username10 THE WAY HE MOUTHED "I LOVE YOU" WHEN SHE STARTED CRYING... I'm going to need medical attention

liked by carlossainz55, yourinstagram and 3,022,836 others

charles_leclerc Made it with 4 songs to spare. Thank you to:

- Every F1 driver who covered for me

- Pierre for the getaway bag

- Carlos for the media chaos

- Lewis for the helicopter

- Air traffic control

- That uber driver who broke speed limits

- Security who let me run

- Vegas traffic for finally clearing

Worth every second of that sprint 🏃‍♂️❤️ I love you more than anything @/yourinstagram

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username1 SOBBING

username2 I STILL CANT BELIEVE THIS REALLY HAPPENED

username3 doing post race interviews WHILE WALKING was iconic behavior

yourinstagram still can't believe you ran through vegas in race stubble just to see me cry on stage 🥺❤️ love you beyond words

pierregasly Anytime, brother, anytime

username4 you fixing your hair in your phone camera before sitting down... we saw that 👀

username5 ABU DHABI TO VEGAS SPEEDRUN ANY% WORLD RECORD

lorenzotl 🤍🤍

scuderiaferarri Next time we’ll have TWO helicopters ready

username6 this will go down as one of the most iconic moments in pop culture idc

username7 IT COUPLE FOREVER

username8 this entire thing is straight out of a romcom plot i can't

username9 IM CRYING AGAIN

username10 the great escape, 2024

liked by chappelroan, charles_leclerc and 3,099,578 others

yourinstagram and just like that, the lifetimes tour is over. 189 shows, countless memories, and one very special last night. to everyone who made this journey possible - my heart is yours forever.

special thank you to @/charles_leclerc who really said "watch me turn an f1 race to concert speedrun into a romantic gesture" 😭❤️ setting records on and off track baby, i love you so much

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username1 AND BACK TO CRYINGGG

username2 i can't believe this tour is over

charles_leclerc Still worth every mile mon coeur ❤️ I'm yours forever

username3 this man really turned "if he wanted to he would" into an olympic sport

pierregasly This was amazing. Let's not do it again

carlossainz55 Bext time we'll arrange TWO getaway cars

sabrinacarpenter happy for you my girl 💕

username4 from writing songs about crossing oceans to him actually doing it... manifestation is real

username5 "setting records on and off track" GIRL WE SAW HIM SPRINTING 😭

username6 the greatest love story since romeo and juliet except with private jets

username7 SOMEONE CHECK ON ME

username8 THAT LAST PHOTO BYE-

scuderiaferrari Our transport team is already planning routes for next year 😉

username9 AND I CAN'T EVEN GET A TEXT BACK

username10 this is the standard

[vaas]

baby coeur can play guitar and sing but she doesnt have any instruments and shes not very well hydrated during the brief period of time shes travelling alongside the khans during the exodus to the mojave. all that being said when she visits later on she does bring instruments with her and agrees to put their limericks to music. its not good for listening but it is fun