I Need A Cigarette
Summary: Your best friend was talented, extremely talented. It was no wonder how she ended up in this position. It was really only a matter of time. You just had no clue of how your nasty smoking habit had brought you here
Content warning: Smoking, eventual smut at the end, graphic sexual descriptions Word count: 3632 (Way too many)
Author's note: First Tumblr post literally ever- no longer am I a stalker but instead I have written for y'all!! special thanks to @ladymaycrush because they were a huge inspiration for me to come out of my shell and also practically beta read for me!!! Enjoy <3
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You had been dreading this day for god knows how long, fake smiles and cliche conversations were never really your thing. But your best friend, Emma, had quite the opposite reaction to this whole entire situation.
The situation in question? You and Emma were standing behind the building where SpongeBob was recorded, animated, and edited—trying, and failing, to stay warm on a truly dreadful day. With almost chattering teeth you looked over to Emma. She was currently panicking, pacing back and forth, while you smoked a cigarette, thoroughly bored. You could be doing so many better things right now, but because you were so thoughtful you offered to be the voice of a villain in her cartoon. “Dude, calm the fuck down” You choked on the cigarette smoke, shivering slightly “you’ve been here before, met these people. Dunno why you’re acting like this” You finished the cigarette and discarded it on the pavement.
“While that's true, I've never brought you! I shouldn’t have even mentioned you! I always knew this day would come! They’re never going to take me seriously with you by my side” she ran her hand through strawberry locks on her head, before turning to face you “No offence” “Some taken mate” You shook your head “Why even ask me to voice-act for you if you’re embarrassed of me?” Emma paused before sighing “Because you’re my best friend? And also all your smoking gives you a raspy voice that fits a villain so perfectly” She mumbled, rubbing her arm “I’m not embarrassed about you. I'm proud to call you my friend, it's just… These people may not think the same as me. They could take one look at us and hate everything i've worked so hard for” She groaned, running a hand down her face while sliding her back against the concrete wall. Her butt meeting the ground with an ‘ooft’
It was hard to see her like this. Emma had always been so self assured and proud, truly a woman to look up to. She put up with so much shit from other animators, been taken advantage of and not once has her pride faltered. It hurt to know you were the reason she was curled up on the pavement second guessing herself- Emma, the most fearless person you knew looking so small because her best friend embarrassed her. You sighed and crouched down in front of her, forcing her face out of her hands so your eyes could meet “Why do you care what these pompous pricks think about you and your work? Because they’re successful? You’re good at what you do, extremely good! You’ve made a couple of bucks and you caught their eye, I’m sure they won’t judge you based on me. Plus I said I'd be on my best behavior, didn't I?” The small smile she gave in return had you exhale, grateful that she had cheered up, even if just slightly. “Come on, I've slept on concrete. I know it isn’t comfortable” You stood up, holding your hand out for her to grab. She didn’t hesitate to grab your hand, but not before throwing your generosity back in your face “Weren’t you drunk?” “And weren’t you at some stranger's house?” You raised an eyebrow with a chuckle
The two of you probably would have continued, throwing mistakes back in eachothers faces from past lives until the sun set. But she quickly shut up when she noticed a car pull into the parking lot, not anything overly fancy but it still made her stand like a deer in headlights. She was practically vibrating next to you. Anxiety now pouring from each crevice of heer glued together self.
“Jesus, dude calm do-” The rest of your sentence was caught on your tongue when you watched the man climb out of the driver's seat. He was less than majestic to say the least. Big coat clearly got in the way of him, shaggy long-ish hair falling in front of his face as he attempted his hardest to re-arrange everything in his hands. Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose slightly askew. Nothing about him stood out, he was the type of face you’d serve at a cafe and then never remember again, only for him to ask if you remembered him a week later as if you hadn’t served 30 people who looked the same. But somehow the grey background behind him lit up when he smiled at himself after finally balancing everything in his hands so he could lock his car. Maybe that’s why your eyes didn’t drag away from him, maybe that’s why he stood out to you. After years of having the most interesting looking people chase your affection, this stranger had this magnetic attraction that you found yourself struggling to ignore.
His eyes met with Emma’s first, offering her a small smile which made her calm down. Despite how hard you had tried this stranger could do it with just a facial expression? You would’ve stayed angry if his eyes didn’t meet yours.
They had this sparkle in them, making it easy to forget everything around you for centuries to come. The shock in his face of finally seeing you disintegrated into a look you couldn’t explain with words, all you knew is it made your body weak in ways you had never felt before.
As he continued walking forward, his eyes flicked between the two of you. Smile still painted across his face as if the day wasn’t shrouded in gloomy weather. He spoke a good morning, before saying your name very proudly, as if he knew all about you. When you looked up at him, the smile turned into a smirk
“I’m Mr. Lawrence, Emma here has been way too secretive of you” The way he talked, the way he introduced himself. Exuded composure and confidence, and made you wish you had brought a spare pair of underwear.
After a moment of staring, your brain finally caught up. Raising an eyebrow you gave a smirk back “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
He spared no second, straightening his back and chuckling “Her description of you really doesn’t live up to the real thing” You really wanted him to continue, fuck how desperately you wanted to hear more about how he saw you in his vision, but he moved passed it way too quickly for your comfort.“Anyways, good morning to you two lovely young ladies. Emma, have your storyboard ready?” He turned his attention towards her, beginning to make his way inside the building with you trailing behind the both of them.
The walk gave you time to think, you tried to focus on anything other than the man in front of you. Like how in the fuck Emma ended up here? You remember her telling you, vaguely. You wish you had paid more attention to her useless rambles while you had been preoccupied with another errand at hand.
Really kicking yourself now because you hadn't.
“She’d love that! Wouldn’t you?” Emma turned to face you as she talked, clearly waiting for your response to something. And of course you weren’t listening- ironic huh?
“U-Uh yeah!” You had no idea what in the fuck you had just agreed to, but it made Mr. Lawrence smile so wide you were glad you had said yes.
–
You figured out what you had agreed to, a second too late. Now you found yourself in headphones in front of a microphone in a recording booth that was used to record plankton’s lines. It made your head reel, things moving so quickly you felt like you had to be high for it to make sense.
You had agreed to one-on-one line rehearsal. With Mr. Lawrence (Who’s first name you found out was Doug after a couple of begs towards Emma)
“Okay” his voice was crystal clear velvet through those headphones, a little deeper than usual. Probably due to being so focused “Deliver your line like you normally would” he instructed.
This was easy, but for some reason you found yourself hesitating to speak. One deep breath, then two. Then, line
“You have g-got to be… joking me?” You had never sounded so unsure of yourself before, hearing yourself was pitiful at best. You were confident, and strong but under the watchful eyes of Doug you couldn’t help but fall apart.
His laugh made you flush with embarrassment “That was sweet, but not very villainous” He hummed “What kind of villain is your character? Is she destructive with words or is she cold and calculated?”
“I’d say destructive”
He paused at this, making you worry. Should she be something completely different? The real question was why did you care?
Thank god, his voice cut through the wall of silence. Clearing his voice before talking “Emma mentioned she loved your voice for this character because of how raspy it would get at times. She said she’d wait until perfect moments to record your line” This was true, you remembered the amount of times Emma would stop you from doing something important. “Do you know how to turn this on and off?”
A shake of your head in response “Nope, just kind of… happens?”
“Guess we know where to start hm?”
–
Little did you know, that would not just be a one time occurrence. Doug requested your presence every spare second you had. Telling you that the greatness you had shouldn't be ignored. Throughout your time together you listened to him talk about Emma and how proud he was of her and how far she’s come since she started an internship with them. But it wasn’t the way he’d talk about her. No, it was how he talked about you.
He would talk about you like you were his little protege, as if every little mistake was his fault and not yours. He held you to a higher standard that neither you nor Emma had ever thought of. As difficult as it was to stand in that little booth every night after your shitty retail job, drink lukewarm coffee and ignore the heavy tension that you were drowning in- you did anyway. Replaying the same words in your head
‘This is all for her’
Even though you were sure both you and Doug would disagree. This wasn’t some selfless act in order for her animation to go higher. No. This was purely carnal, never have you met a man like Doug Lawrence. A gentleman in every aspect, making you wonder what he'd be like between the sheets. And he was stuck in your head on repeat, every soft groan he’d make. How his eyes dropped and sagged from exhaustion some nights. He was truly a parasite, overtaking each part of your brain with thoughts of him. Each dark corner filled with images of your new interest.
And you have never felt more guilty, never hated yourself more because of a man. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal, usually you’d fuck him out of your system and go on your merry little way. But you couldn’t do that with Doug. Not only was he extremely important to your best friend, but you didn’t want to ruin the warm feeling he gave you when he praised your work. The way he would look at you through his glasses, with pride and a feeling you couldn’t quite grasp.
Each and every night you worked with Doug, you found yourself worrying more about your appearance beneath your clothing. Did the bra look sophisticated? Were your panties lacy enough to send the right signals? Standing in front of the mirror for hours wondering if your body looked good in the garments you chose. Holding onto some fairytale that he really wanted you. Even if you could talk yourself back from delusion, a small nagging part of you still begged for you to be prepared.
No longer were you rolling out of bed from your post work nap, no. You were putting actual thought into your appearance any way you could
Even if he’d never see them, you still wore them for him. Still wanted to impress him anyway you coil.d. But if anyone were to ask why you had worn those types of undergarments you would brush it off with a shrug. Claiming you had no idea what they meant, despite the shame that would eat you from the inside out.
He didn’t make it easy for you though, and tonight was no exception.
Two hours, you both had been in the recording studio for two hours too long. Take after take and nothing was landing, your voice now only raspy thanks to the lack of sleep finally catching up to your body. Fatigue making it really hard to keep yourself from blurting out something inappropriate. Like how fucking good Doug looked with his button-up shirt being open like that. The way his hands flexed and tapped against the table when he was in thought, or the fact he looked so delicious you could take a bite out of them
“I’m telling you Doug, I have no clue how to turn it on and off” You groaned, walking into the control room. Moving the headphones to sit around your neck “It just happens, it’s a raspy voice from smoking. No real secret behind it” You sat on the table’s edge, legs not touching the ground so you swung them back and forth.
This earned a shake of his head, walking up to you and away from the window “You just haven’t voice trained” He removed the headphones from your neck, resting them behind you. His finger came up beneath your chin, forcing your head up “You just need to know how to move words through your throat” His hand flattened against your vocal chords, soft fingertips against your cold skin making shivers run down your spine.
“Speak”
You had to be dreaming, this couldn’t be real. If anyone were to walk in you couldn’t deny your position. Faces so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your nose each inhale being nothing but sandalwood cologne that was so uniquely his. With a hint of spearmint that seemed to linger around him. And with his soft voice demanding something from you? Surely your alarm clock would go off any second now.
“I need a cigarette” you whispered out, closing your eyes and waiting to wake up in your bed with a lot of pent up ‘frustration’
“Smoking will shoot your voice. If you want to control it I recommend you take a break” His tone wasn’t judgmental like others, it was more thoughtful than that. As if he had personally known how hard it was to put down something that made it so easy to think clearly.
“My voice is already shot” You laughed while opening your eyes. Pitiful and weak with a large hand still pressed against your throat making it hard to focus on an actual conversion.
“I think it’s fantastic” there was more he wanted to say and you both knew it. But only he knew what would actually finish that sentence.
You both stayed still in a moment of reluctance. Him reluctant to pull away and you reluctant to push forward. If you had been put in front of a court you would blame your next actions on your drained and overworked brain. But the ache of need deep within you told you that you would be lying.
Eyelids closed and breath held you leaned in, feeling his unmoving lips against yours. For one instant of pure anxiety boiled down to its singularity, you didn’t feel anything in return. Mind running laps you went to pull away and apologise for such a display. But Doug really wasn’t about to let that happen.
His hand slid from your neck to cup the back of your head, fingers curling within your hair and giving it a soft tug. Lips now showing much more eagerness than you. Your hands found themselves curled around the collar of his shirt, spreading your legs so you could pull him in closer. Lips parting, kiss deepening and tongues meeting in what could only be described as pure satisfaction. Like finally jumping after standing on the ledge for too long.
You could’ve lived right here, spread out with Doug between your legs. One hand in your hair and the other on your hip while his tongue explored what you both had been denying yourselves.
He pulled away with your name breathless on his lips, eyes meeting once more. You return wirth a breathless whine of his name, as if it’d break whatever fantasy you two were foolishly living in.
But it did quite the opposite, lips now meeting your neck in desperation. Fingers curling tighter around your hair and pulling harsh. Moving your head out of the way so he could get right where he wanted. It was primal, animalistic sounds slipping past the messy kisses and bites on your neck. But you couldn’t focus on how delicious the pain of his pearly whites in your supple flesh felt, if they were leaving marks or not being a worry you didn't have because his other hand found itself wandering from your hip to the button of your jeans.
In a sobering moment you gasped out his name, gripping his wrist to signal him to stop. And he did without any irritation, his eyes now searching for any sign to stop
“I-I’m sorry” he mumbled, going to pull his hand away “I shouldn’t have…” you didn’t let go of his wrist, even when he did a harsher tug.
Although you found the look of confusion on his face adorable, you sighed “Doug, I want to… I really want to” You began, about to kick yourself for your next words “But I can’t do anything to jeopardize Emma’s position here” She owed you a hell of a lot more than just a ‘thank you’.
His smile was warm, too warm. As if all the lust in the room faltered into kindness “You are so selfless” he whispered, his hand in your hair loosening so he could caress the back of your neck “I think that’s another reason you make it so hard to keep my hands to myself” With a light kiss to your cheek, he pulled away much to your dismay “I would hope you know I’m not the type that would hold your actions against her. But I un-”
That's all you needed, that was the green light. He was wrong, you were about to be extremely selfish. No hesitation this time, he kissed you back. His hands found their previous position. Drowning in lust you barely breathe through your nose, it was easy to forget about air when you had Doug Lawrence undoing your pants in such impatient movements.
Kisses trailing down your neck, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pants and panties. It was hard to keep up, your hands didn't know where to go. One still gripping to his collar like a lifeline, the other one moving from his wrist to hold his shoulder. You were overthinking everything, did your breathless pants escaping your lips sound good? Do you look attractive in the position you were currently in? But you couldn’t think anymore when you felt it. His hands, expertly pressing every button you didn’t even know you had until the soft pads of his fingers had touched you there.
Fingers sliding between your folds and pushing until they broke past your entrance. Curling up against your insides so perfectly you couldn't help but almost collapse in his kisses and arms. Everything suddenly feeling much too overwhelming for you. Palm against your clit while his fingers don’t falter, giving you the push you didn’t know you needed to begin chasing your own pleasure.
Hips moving in sputtered thrusts, attempting to keep up with the pace Doug had set. Hand gripping his wrist, but this time it wasn’t for him to stop. Instead using it as leverage to increase the pressure assisting your thrusts.
Body moving on its own, mind not catching up. Emptying itself so the only thing you were truly grasping was Doug. Face buried in his neck, drool dripping from your parted lips onto his collar. The only thing breaking up your filthy moans was the small amounts of praise he managed to drill into your head, doing nothing but pulling you closer and closer to that ledge you loved all too much. In an instant, everything went from almost there to falling, body tensing, vision blurring and moans silencing in favour of your jaw dropping and eyes squeezing shut.
This pause also made Doug pause his movements, allowing you to ride the wave of ecstasy. Catching your breath while he pulled his hand away and began buttoning up your jeans once more, you couldn’t help but feel guilty “Did you…?” you trailed off, shaky hands beginning to fiddle with his belt. Until he stopped you
“I am more than fine, you on the other hand look like you’re about to pass out” He wiped his hand on his pants before helping you get back down on your feet.
You couldn’t help the look you gave him, lazy and soft. But he seemed to appreciate it nonetheless “Come on, let’s get you a coffee so you can manage the drive home hm?” Hand in hand, you both walked to the break room. Leaving the control room door open to air out the smell of your actions.
“I need a cigarette” you mumbled softly, giggling slightly when you realised these were the very words that lead you both to break.
“We’ll get you one of those too”
