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badkitty3000 · 2 months

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Breaking The Rules

Five x Plus Size Female Reader, Words: 8,159, One-shot

Warnings: Smut, slight Daddy kink

So I received a very lovely request from someone I won't name, but they asked for something very specific:

"There aren't that many Five x plus size reader fics, And I think that should be changed"

I immediately jumped on this idea, because yes, this does need to change. Body representation is very important. I fully admit that I normally write Five with petite women, and that's usually because he's not a huge guy himself, so I tend to make them smaller. That's kind of the standard formula I suppose: bigger guy, smaller girl? But it doesn't have to always be that way. Everyone should be represented in a positive way.

Anyway, I have tried my best to fulfill this request and hopefully I do it justice. 😽❤️☂️

You had just been transferred from Records to Case Management. It was a pretty big promotion, but you had worked hard for it and deserved it. You were excited to be out of the stuffy records room and into the main population of employees since you were by nature a very social person. At one point you had thought about training for an agent position, but decided against it. Even though that’s really what you dreamed of doing. Instead, you figured vying for an executive position would be the best route, but that would take a few more years in the machine.

Part of your job was taking the data that you put together and assigning a particular agent to the case. You were good at solving puzzles, which is why you were put in this department to begin with, but you were also very good at reading people. You loved getting to know new people and their personalities, and what made them tick. People in general were fascinating to you, and the Commission had plenty of personalities.

As usual, you had no problem fitting in with your new coworkers. You had some sort of energy or charisma that drew others in. Maybe it was your infectious laugh, or your inappropriate sense of humor. Or just that way that you had of putting everyone around you at ease. Whatever it was, it was a source of pride for you. You liked being the one people gravitated to.

There was one person that did not seem as smitten with you as everyone else, and that was Number Five Hargreeves. You knew of him, of course. Everyone did. He was a legend among legends and there was a reason for that. You hadn’t been there the first time around, when he was fresh out of the Apocalypse, but when he came back years later as a younger version of himself, it was all anyone could talk about.

Five had a reputation for being aloof and if you caught him on the wrong day, he’d cut you down with some biting insult that was just as powerful as any physical harm he could do. He was smart, agile, and brutally honest. He was also hot as hell.

There seemed to be no end to the line of women that would purposefully parade past him on a daily basis. You couldn’t blame them, though. You’d caught yourself staring a few times, as you watched him read over a file with that serious expression of his, before he nodded a curt thank you and disappeared in a flash of blue. But you weren’t really that interested in him and you knew for a fact that he didn’t date inside the office. You admired that about him, actually, because neither did you.

Just because he wasn’t sleeping around the Commission, however, didn’t mean he wasn’t getting some action elsewhere. When you work for an organization that can see anything and everyone across all timelines and at any point in time…well, rumors are bound to start spreading. And you had heard a lot of them.

As with all rumors, it was hard to determine how much of it was true, but you could at least believe what you heard about his usual taste in women. Petite, thin, perky boobs, a flat stomach, and a small, tight ass. The guys at the switchboard loved to give descriptions of Five’s latest conquests, and they all sounded about the same. But hey, good for him, everyone has a type.

So, even if you were somehow interested in him from a romantic standpoint, you wouldn’t have made the cut anyway. You didn’t fit that stereotypical mold of those other women with your wide hips, slightly bigger breasts and butt, and a stomach that had never been flat. You doubted his usual dates had stretch marks on their thighs and hips, or even a small amount of cellulite on their ass. Not that you cared. Everyone’s bodies were different, after all.

Being a bigger sized woman didn’t bother you. You were confident in your body and made no apologies about it. Just because you couldn’t fit into the size negative two jeans that were constantly shoved in your face on every clothing store mannequin, didn’t mean you weren’t going to wear what you wanted. Short skirts, tight blouses that hugged your chest, or low cut, strappy dresses. If you liked it and it fit, who the fuck cared what anyone else thought? You liked yourself and your body, and if someone else didn’t, then that was their problem.

You liked sex, too, and you had no problems in that department either. You’d had many boyfriends, and a few one-night stands. Currently, you were unattached, but that was ok. There would be another man along at some point and you weren’t going to settle for someone you didn’t like. In the meantime, you’d ogle the eye candy at work.

It was a typical day when you had your first real interaction with Five. Sitting in the breakroom with your lunch, laughing loudly with your coworkers, the room suddenly became very quiet. You looked over to see Five strolling casually in, heading for the coffee station. He didn’t speak to anyone, or really even look in their direction, but there were nervous glances all around. One by one, your friends quietly made some excuse and got up to leave. Eventually, it was just you left at the table.

“Aren’t you going to flee in terror with the rest of them?”

You looked up, surprised to see that he was actually talking to you. You pointed to your salad in front of you. “I’m still eating. And you don’t really scare me, sorry.”

Five looked thoughtful for a second and you saw the glimmer of a smile before he took another sip of coffee.

“Nice work on the Edinburgh case, by the way.”

You nodded. “Thanks. I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”

Five shrugged. “I pay attention. Especially when I see real talent.”

You frowned. “So, you’re stalking me, is that what you’re telling me?”

Five almost choked on his coffee. “What? No! Why would you…”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Thank you, though. I appreciate the compliment.”

“Oh,” Five said, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re welcome.” Then he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to finish your meal.”

“You don’t have to go, you know,” you said as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back at you and you gestured to one of the empty seats. “It’s ok to relax sometimes. Maybe be social? And I don’t bite…at least not without prior consent,” you added with a wink.

Five stood there for a few seconds in thought, and you figured he was conjuring up some perfectly crafted insult for you. Instead, you saw his mouth twitch up at the corner and he gestured to you with his coffee cup.

“Well, that is very good to know. Consent is always important.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

A few days later you were standing with your friends in the hallway at the end of the workday, talking about the upcoming Commission pickleball tournament you were all playing in. One of your best players had been injured on a job and now you were down a body. As you were discussing options, you saw Five walking in your direction.

“Hey, Hargreeves!” you yelled. “You up for some pickleball?”

Five stopped in his tracks and actually looked around, as if there could be another Hargreeves standing right behind him. Then he looked back at you, thoroughly confused.

“What the hell are you doing?” whispered one of your friends.

“What?” you replied. “The guy’s like a hundred years old, he probably fucking loves pickleball.” You turned back to Five. “We need another player, you game?”

Still rooted to the spot, Five shook his head slowly. “Thanks for the invite. But I’ll have to decline.”

There was an audible sigh of relief from the rest of your group. You rolled your eyes. “Come on! It’ll be fun. You know what fun is, don’t you?”

Five narrowed his eyes, but you could see there was no bite to it. “Yes, I know what fun is.”

“Well, I promise this will be all sorts of fun.” You gave him a big smile. “And as a bonus, you’ll get to watch me run around in a short skirt.”

Your friend next to you slapped you on the arm. “What is wrong with you?” they hissed.

Five actually smiled for a second, you were sure of it. “Tempting, but again, I have to decline.” Then he continued on his way down the hall.

Over the next few weeks, you made it your personal mission to try and get Five to loosen up. Whether you personally delivered case files to him just as an excuse to talk to him, or purposefully followed him into the breakroom, you wouldn’t leave him alone until you got him to at least smile at something you said. After a while, you noticed he was much more relaxed around you. Eventually, you and he were officially friends, much to the amazement of everyone else around you. He even started seeking you out on his downtime.

“Hey there, handsome,” you joked as Five strode up to your desk one day. “Something I can do for you, or did you just miss me?”

“You know, I could report you to human resources for sexual harassment,” he said as he perched on the edge of your desk, folding his arms across his chest with a smile. He had a standard manilla file folder in one hand.

“It’s only harassment if you don’t like it,” you replied, pointing a pen at him.

“I’m not sure that’s accurate.”

“Sure it is,” you said as you jabbed him in the arm with the pen, laughing when he frowned and rubbed at the area. “But seriously, did you need something?”

“Maybe. I just wanted to run this by you.” He slapped the case file on your desk.

“What is it?”

“A case I was assigned to. I read it over though, and I don’t think it’s right. I wanted your opinion.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Me? The legendary Mr. Five wants my lowly opinion?”

“Just shut up and read the fucking file.”

With a laugh, you opened it and started reading. He watched you, rather intently you noticed, while you read. You frowned and shook your head, pointing at a paragraph. “Right here, this isn’t true. The clockmaker didn’t take a carriage to work that day. He walked.”

Five nodded. “That makes this whole case pointless, then. I’d be targeting the wrong person.”

“Shit, you’re right.” You looked up at him. “Good catch.”

“It looked off somehow, but I couldn’t figure it out. I knew you would, though.”

Normally you’d say something snarky to bust his balls, but he was being truly sincere and his compliment meant a lot to you. “Thanks, Five.”

He shrugged and grabbed the file off your desk. “Alright, see you later.”

As he turned around to leave, you couldn’t help yourself. “Hey, Five?”

He stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away.”

Five shook his head while you cackled at your own joke. “Can’t even make it ten seconds without treating me like a piece of meat. You’re hopeless.”

The following day, you were in the breakroom getting some coffee when you overheard a conversation by some of your coworkers.

“…yeah, I heard it’s not good. Took a shot right to the chest.”

“I heard it was a head shot; that he’s barely alive.”

“No way, I don’t believe it. Not him.”

You turned toward the group, coffee cup in hand. “Who are you talking about?”

“You haven’t heard? Your buddy was shot up pretty bad today.”

You frowned, lowering your cup. “Who, Five?”

“Yeah. I only heard bits and pieces so far, but it doesn’t sound great. They brought him directly to the infirmary when he came back. There was a trail of blood in the hall and everything.”

“What?” you cried, slamming your cup on the counter. “That can’t be.”

Your friend shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”

“Shit,” you hissed, before running out of the room.

You didn’t slow down the entire way to the infirmary, dodging people in the halls, and almost knocking a few of them over in the process. How could Five be hurt? And why was just the thought making you sick to your stomach?

You burst into the infirmary just in time to see several nurses scurrying away, and a very angry and bloodied Five sitting up in one of the hospital beds.

“God damnit, if you touch me one more time, I swear to god, I will strangle you with my IV line!”

“Oh my god, Five!” Without even thinking about it, you rushed up to him and threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly to you. “Holy shit, I thought you were dead!”

His body stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and put his arms around you in return. You heard him laugh and you pulled away.

“I bet you’d like that. Then you’d finally be able to molest me without me fighting back.”

You realized a few tears had slipped down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped them away. You gave him a half-smile. “You wish.” Then you looked him over, noticing the blood on his head and the IV in his arm. “Are you ok? What happened?”

He sighed. “Nothing, just a minor mishap. I’m fine.” He spoke louder and in the general direction of the nursing staff. “But these jack-holes won’t let me leave!”

You huffed out a laugh. “I can see you’re fine by your usual lovely attitude. You should hear the rumors going around about you, though. Pretty impressive.”

“Good. I need to keep up appearances.”

When you sat down on the side of the bed, you took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re ok, really. I got really scared there for a minute.”

Five smiled shyly at you and gave you a squeeze back. “I’m glad someone here was worried about me.”

You tilted your head to the side and brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead and tried to wipe away a smudge of blood. “I doubt I’m the only one.”

“I think you are,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes.

You averted your eyes for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Maybe just one thing.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

He grinned. “Go on a date with me.”

You weren’t sure you heard him correctly. “Did they check you for a concussion because I thought you just asked me out on a date.”

“I did. And no, I am not concussed.”

“Five…” you started, blinking in confusion. “I don’t understand. Do you mean like a date date?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Yes, like a date date. Why is this so hard to believe?”

“Uh, well…because we’re friends. Also, I’m not really your type.”

His eyebrows creased together. “You’re not? You’re funny, smart, and sexy. Not to mention you flirt with me every chance you get. What’s not to like?”

“I do not flirt with you.” You smiled when you saw his incredulous expression. “Ok, yeah, I do. But that was just having fun and trying to make you laugh. I didn’t think you’d be into me.”

“Why not?”

“Ok, how do I put this? I have heard all about your little conquests and I know you have a running theme. Skinny, tiny, Barbie dolls that probably have never eaten a sandwich before. And not that there’s anything wrong with that. Everyone has a type and that’s ok. Hell, normally I prefer blond guys, but…”

“Normally?” he cut in.

You blushed. “Well, I do make some exceptions for certain grouchy, dark-haired men.”

Five nodded with a smile. “So then go out with me. I promise the only type I have is the type that I happen to be attracted to. And don’t believe everything you hear around here. Remember,” he pointed to the small abrasion on his head, “I was almost dead a couple of minutes ago.”

Hesitating, you shook your head. “I don’t date anyone from work.”

“Good. Me either,” he said, still grinning.

You laughed. “Alright, then, you wore me down. It’s a date. But only if you promise to stay here for at least another hour without verbally or physically abusing these poor health care workers. It’s not their fault you’re an asshole.”

“Fine, I’ll stay, but only because I want to go out with you.” He raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear. “Not because I need to be treated like a child who fell off their tricycle!”

The next Saturday, you and Five went on your date. When he saw your outfit, he was speechless for a few seconds. He was used to seeing you in your work clothes, which was always the same boring gray pants suit, but now he got to see you in your preferred style. A form-fitting, teal blue dress that stopped halfway down your thighs and had a keyhole neckline to show off a bit of cleavage. You paired it with some gold jewelry and black, strappy heels. You laughed at his face when he saw you.

“You look…” he stammered. “That dress…just wow.”

“Thank you.” You looked him up and down, liking the way his tailored pants fit his lean body just right and his casual button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves accentuated his sculpted chest. You had never really noticed how strong he looked. “You look really good, too. Much better than the stuffy suits.”

“Agreed,” he said distractedly as he continued to stare at your chest.

“Excuse me, but my eyes are up here,” you joked, pointing to your face.

He looked up briefly, then back down at your body. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to your eyes in a minute.”

“Wow, I had no idea you were such a pervert.”

He looked up at you with a devious smile. “Oh, yeah, huge pervert. I’m surprised you never picked up on that.” He laughed along with you and then offered his arm for you to loop yours through. “Shall we?”

At dinner, the conversation came easily. It was nice to be able to chat without having to cut it short due to work. Your stories were much duller than his, obviously, but he still seemed genuinely interested in anything you had to say. You made him laugh with your sarcastic comments and you loved knowing you were just about the only one that could crack that veneer of his. Over dessert, you finally worked up enough nerve to ask him what you really wanted to know.

“So, how come you’ve only dated thin girls before?”

Five looked surprised and he shook his head. “I haven’t only dated thin girls.”

You cocked your head to the side and raised your eyebrows. “Really?”

He coughed, embarrassed. “Ok, fine, that’s true. But it wasn’t a conscious decision. Like I said, I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to.” He paused. “But…”

“But what?”

“But what I am most attracted to is confidence. I like a woman that is sure of herself and assertive. A woman that knows what she wants.” He looked guilty for a second. “Usually, at least in my experience, those are the women that happen to fit into the societal standards of beauty. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, though. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not a bad thing. I was just curious.” You hesitated, not sure you wanted to keep pressing him for information. “What was it that attracted you to me, then?”

He looked surprised again and then he laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve never met anyone as confident and self-assured as you. Plus, you’re funny and easy to be around. And almost as smart as I am.”

“As modest as always.”

“I’m just kidding,” he said with a smile. “You’re incredibly smart, obviously. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who wasn’t. And…” He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. You felt a warm, tingling sensation ripple through your body. “You are also incredibly sexy with your shameless flirting.”

“Well, I’m glad you noticed,” you said, taking your finger and brushing it over his. “And just in case you didn’t know, you are also incredibly sexy.”

“I did not know that.”

“Oh yeah. I made a lot of enemies once word got out that I was going on a date with you. Lots of jealous women back at headquarters right now.”

“Is that so? Can I get a list of those women, just in case this date goes bad?”

Taking your foot, you dragged it up his calf, all while looking him in the eye with one eyebrow raised suggestively. “I don’t think it’s going to go bad, do you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t now.” You saw him swallow hard and shift in his seat. “How about we get the check?”

When you got back to your place, you were almost falling through the door as you struggled to get inside while aggressively making out. Neither of you had even made it out of the car before you started groping one another, so that by the time you had made it home, you were both on fire.

“You know,” you mumbled between frantic kisses as Five slammed the door closed behind him with his foot. “I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

“Me either,” he said as he grabbed you around the waist to pull you in closer, kissing you along your jaw.

“Ok, I lied. Yes, I do,” you exhaled breathily as your hands wound into his hair and he moved his mouth to your neck.

“Good, because I lied too,” he said, stopping to look at you with a sly grin.

After letting out a short laugh, you were back on his mouth again, breathing hard through your nose and pressing your body against his. You could feel his arousal building as he pushed his groin into your hip. Your hands fumbled as you started to unbutton his shirt.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” he breathed against your neck. “I want you out of this dress.”

As you finished undoing the last button and pulling his shirt out of his pants, you nodded. “Yeah, good idea.” When you reached down to pull at the strap of your shoe, he put a hand on yours to stop you. When you looked up, he shook his head.

“I said the dress. The shoes stay on.”

Well, if you hadn’t been wet before, you were now. The tone of his voice and the seriousness of his face only added to the hotness factor and at that point you would have followed almost any demand he made of you. Leaving the shoes on, you pulled the dress over your head while he watched. Even though you hadn’t really been anticipating your date progressing this far, you had still prepared with a pair of satin panties and lace bra that matched the same jewel tone as the dress you dropped onto the floor.

Five didn’t say anything, just eyed you up and massaged the back of his neck. Then he let out a long, shaky exhale.

“Are you ok?” you asked, suddenly a little concerned he might not be liking what he saw.

Five nodded, his gaze not leaving your breasts. “Yeah, just give me a second. I’m trying not to come in my pants.”

Your astonished laugh was quickly cut off when you found yourself pinned against the wall on the other side of the room, the fluttery sensation of one of Five’s spatial jumps lingering in your stomach. Your squeak of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, as he pushed hard against you, his hands on your tits.

When he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip, you moaned and closed your eyes, jerking your hips into him. Your hands found their way to his hard chest and muscular arms, feeling them tighten and relax with each movement. He let you tug his shirt the rest of the way off and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pressed his face into the side of your neck and lifted one of your legs up to his waist. His hard cock was grinding into you as you drew in a ragged breath. When you felt his lips against your skin and his warm breath as he brushed his mouth over your neck, you let out a loud whine.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Let Daddy hear you,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and holding you tightly to him.

“Woah…Daddy?” you breathed out.

Five nodded, moving to the other side of your neck. “Is that ok?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy,” you moaned, running your hands greedily down his back.

You felt him smile against you and his kisses turned into small nips that he trailed down your neck and onto your shoulder.

“I want you. I can’t wait,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

“The bedroom is in there,” you said, pointing to the room just on the other side of the wall.

Five let your leg down and you pulled him by the hand into your bedroom, falling onto the bed and propping yourself on your elbows as Five stood there staring again.

“Well, come on, Daddy,” you teased. “I thought you couldn’t wait.”

A slow smile spread across Five’s face as he immediately started to undress the rest of the way, until he was crawling over you, completely naked. He rubbed his cock against your inner thigh, making a quiet growling noise in his throat before looking you in the eye.

“As much as I love this little bra and panty combination you’ve got going on here, I’m going to need those to go, too.”

When you nodded eagerly, he reached behind you and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it off the bed before immediately moving farther south and ripping your underwear off. Once you were completely nude, Five sat back to take you all in. You assumed he liked what he saw, because it was only another second before he was covering you with his own body, attacking your full breasts with frantic sucking kisses.

“Damnit, honey, these tits…fuck,” he moaned as he buried his face in your cleavage.

“I take it that you’re pleased?” you giggled, threading your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head, holding himself over you while he shoved your legs further apart with his knees. Then he lowered himself to kiss you tenderly, caressing your face with one hand. You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m more than pleased. You’re beautiful.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time using his free hand to travel down your chest and abdomen, and along your inner thighs. His long fingers met the soft, wet area between them, and he slowly ran them up through your pillowy folds, making you even wetter.

“Five…” you moaned as you rocked your hips up to match his strokes.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he asked, only slightly condescending as he continued to watch your face for your reactions.

Five entered you with two fingers, pressing in slowly and then backing out again before repeating it in a slow rhythm. You chased his hand with desperate thrusts of your hips, biting your bottom lip to try to contain some of the noises that threatened to escape your lips.

“Fuck me, please,” you whined, throwing your head back.

He gave a quiet chuckle and you felt his hand move away from you. Then he was positioning himself between your legs and lowering himself so that you could feel his dick rubbing against your slit.

“God, I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life. I’m going to fuck you like you want, gorgeous. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasped when you felt him enter you, just slow enough not to be jarring, but not drawing it out, either.

When he was fully inside, you angled your hips so he was at just the right spot.

“How’s that?” he whispered as he slowly pumped into you.

“That’s good…” You grabbed at his shoulders and back. “Keep going.”

Five continued his slow and lazy thrusts while holding himself over you so he could look down at your face and body. His hair fell forward over his eye and he made quiet groaning noises that were punctuated with soft kisses.

“You feel so damn good,” he moaned.

“Five?”

“What do you need, darling?”

“I need you to really fuck me. Hard.”

He looked down at you, momentarily stopping his movements. Then he laughed quietly and you smiled back. “Well, I did say I’d fuck you like you wanted, didn’t I?”

When he pulled out, you let out a soft sigh and watched as he crawled back off the bed, his dick still hard and wet from being inside of you.

“Wha--?” you started to ask, right before he yanked your legs sideways, so that you were laying across the width of the bed.

Five positioned himself between your legs, holding them up under your knees and settling them on either side of his waist while he lined himself up and slammed into you again.

“Is this what you wanted?” he snarled, continuing to thrust into you hard and fast.

“Yes!” you cried, clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Every time he pounded into you, you got to feel the intensity of his strength as your entire body moved back and forth, your tits bouncing enticingly in front of him. He gave your voluptuous ass a hard slap that made you cry out again. You instinctively covered your mouth with your arm.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Five warned through clenched teeth. “Uncover your mouth. I want to hear you scream.”

Everything he was doing and saying was driving you quickly over the edge, and you did scream for him, just like he wanted. You couldn’t even help yourself.

“Yes…please…keep going…harder, please! I need more!”

You were begging and pleading while he railed into you as hard as he possibly could, thrusting his thick cock deep inside of you while slamming his pubic bone right into your clit every single time. All while completely supporting your lower body, angling it up and off the bed so he could fuck you relentlessly and perfectly.

Soon, you felt your muscles start to twitch and your head fell back, your mouth wide open as you repeatedly asked him to fuck you harder. When you finally hit that wall, you completely lost yourself, screaming his name while bucking and thrashing wildly against him.

Your orgasm was still coming in waves when Five released himself inside of you, his head tipped back and jaw set, growling obscenities while his muscles contracted and he dug his fingers harder into your thighs.

When the intensity had passed, Five let go of your legs, setting them gently down, and he leaned over the top of you, his hands on either side of your head. He kissed you tenderly, still trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said with a heavy exhale.

You nodded, laying a hand on his cheek. “So damn good.”

After another minute, you both moved so that you were lying longways on the bed again. Five held you against his chest while he kissed your forehead and traced his fingers down your arms and back.

“I’m not sure why we haven’t been doing that all along,” he joked.

“Because you needed to get to know me and my sparkling personality first.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Sparkling? I don’t know, that seems a bit much.”

When you giggled, he pulled you close to him. Your lips pulled to the side in thought and after a few seconds you decided to just put it out there.

“Are you sure you’re ok with my body? I mean, I am, but I just want to make sure you are, too. Because if this is going to continue, and I really hope it does, then I need to know you’re going to be ok with my size and not try to change me after a while. I’ve dated men in the past that said they were ok with it, but then a month or so later, they’re encouraging me to go to the gym or making comments about my diet. They all got kicked to the curb, because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I am who I am and I love my body. I just want to make sure you do, too.”

Five was quiet for a moment, then he held your chin in his hand. “Look at me,” he said quietly, while tilting you face up. “I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that body type or looks matter to me, because it doesn’t. I just had the most mind-blowing sex I have ever had, and I wouldn’t change one single thing about you. You’re perfect.”

“Wow,” you said with a smile. “Five Hargreeves just called me perfect. Wait until I spread this rumor down at headquarters.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “You believe me, don’t you?”

You nodded. “I believe you. And thank you.” You gave him a soft kiss and smiled. “So, does this mean I can keep sexually harassing you at work?”

“I hereby give you permission to harass me as much as you want on a daily basis. I will welcome it.”

After that first date, you and Five couldn’t get enough of one another. It was like just being in the same building with him set your body on fire. You would find yourself staring off, lost in a daydream about what his mouth felt like and then someone would clear their throat or say your name, and you’d realize they had been talking to you without you noticing.

Obviously, everyone knew that something was going between you two. You hadn’t exactly spread the word, but you also hadn’t denied it. You didn’t really care what anyone thought, anyway. The only problem was, there was a strict policy of no relationships between case managers and field agents in place. This was done to protect the agents, and to avoid any favoritism with assignments. A few casual flings here and there were overlooked, but serious relationships were usually squashed. Not that you would describe what you had as serious. Yet, anyway.

You did love spending time with one another, even without the sex. You even made Five join you at lunch with your usual group, much to the shock of your friends. It was awkward at first, but when Five cracked a very dry and cutting joke about someone in upper management, the table went silent for a second before bursting into laughter. He looked at you in surprise, like he couldn’t believe he was having this type of positive social interaction. You just smiled and shrugged, mouthing “I told you so”.

Despite the fact that you spent a lot of time together outside of work, that didn’t stop either of you from taking advantage of your proximity at the Commission. You had lost count of the number of times you two had stolen away somewhere in the building for a quickie during the day. With Five’s status plus his convenient teleportation powers, you could hide anywhere you could think of that would give you at least a few minutes of privacy.

You would be sitting there, attempting to work on a case, when Five would come strolling in. Just the sight of him striding into the room, all confident and sexy with that tiny smirk on his face, made you want to jump on top of him. He would approach you with some made up problem he had and ask you to go with him so you could help straighten it out. It was pretty apparent what was going on, and your coworkers would exchange glances around you, but you didn’t care.

Once you were safely down the hallway, Five would grab you and blink you into some abandoned storage room where you were immediately attacked. You had told him to stop being so aggressive while at work, because the hickeys he was leaving on your neck were clearly visible. But that didn’t stop him from shoving you against a table or a wall, all while kissing you fervently and telling you how much he wanted you in that deep, growling voice of his.

Dropping to his knees to eat you out while kneading the flesh of your ass. Spinning you around to bend you over a table before fingering you and then fucking you from behind. Biting and sucking at your tits and stomach, leaving marks that would be hidden by your clothes, but were still a reminder of who you belonged to. All of it was expertly done, as only Five could do, and you couldn’t get enough.

The servicing wasn’t a one-way street, though. You liked to flip the tables sometimes and push him against the wall, sliding slowly down his body until you were kneeling in front of him, hands already clawing at his belt and zipper while you called him Daddy. When you would take all of him into your mouth, he would hiss through his teeth and groan loudly, his hand resting in your hair while he praised you for being good for him. He wanted you to look at him while you sucked him off, and tell you to finger yourself while you did it. You’d be choking on his dick, a hand shoved into your panties, and both of you moaning until you came; all while the throngs of Commission employees were passing by right outside the door.

It was quickly becoming apparent that your relationship was evolving into something more. You were starting to spend more nights together, sleeping in one another’s beds, curled up together and waking up happy in the morning, just to be near each other. Five loved cuddling up with you, pulling your soft body close against his, and nuzzling into your neck or hair. He told you how happy you made him and thanked you for pulling him out of his shell. He’d idly stroke your arms and thighs while you would lie together in the dark, just talking quietly. In the morning, he’d trace patterns over the white, jagged lines that criss crossed your abdomen and hips, reminding you how beautiful you were as the sunlight spilled across your bed.

Your feelings for Five were starting to seep into your everyday routines and the work you normally prided yourself on. You found yourself worrying about every assignment he went on, even though you knew he was a professional and could handle it.

After a while, the cases you started assigning him got easier and easier, whereas before you would have given him the most difficult and dangerous ones. He finally called you out on it when he received a total rookie assignment while another agent that was not nearly as skilled received a much more complicated one.

He sat on the corner of your desk, a smug grin on his face, as he dropped the file in front of you.

“What the hell is this?” he asked you, still smiling.

You glanced down at the file, then back at him. “What do you mean?”

He tapped the file with his finger. “This garbage. It’s a case for a newbie. Hell, you could probably hand this to any random person off the street and they could do it. So what’s going on?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and frowning. “Maybe I thought you just needed a break, that’s all.”

He studied your face and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Every case I get from you these days is getting simpler and simpler. I just haven’t said anything until now. Are you losing faith in my abilities, is that it?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Of course not! It’s just, you know…” Your voice trailed off and your eyes flitted away from his.

“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hands onto the desk in front of you, looking up at him. “Fine. I’m scared to give you anything complicated because I’m afraid something will happen to you. And I don’t really want my boyfriend being gunned down or stabbed or beaten all to shit, ok? Especially not in another timeline where you might not even be able to come back.”

Five took a second to absorb that information, then he looked down with a smile. “You really worry about me?”

“Yes, I worry about you. Is that so bad? You might not be as amazing as you think you are. You’re not infallible, you know.”

Five made a face like he hadn’t actually considered that before, which was mildly infuriating, and then he looked at you with that gentle smile of his that you knew he saved only for you. He leaned in and gave you a quick but tender kiss full on the mouth, even though you were still in a roomful of people that could see. When he pulled away, you felt your face flush, but not from embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he whispered earnestly.

Then he flashed you that arrogant smirk again, the dimple on his cheek deepening, before snatching a much thicker file off your desk, and blinking away without another word.

It was only a matter of time, you supposed, before Corporate caught wind of your relationship. Especially when you were making erratic decisions with your cases lately. Both you and Five received a notice from senior management requesting a meeting. You were a mess of anxiety and nerves when the time came. Your career was important to you, and it was not in your nature to just throw that away for some man. But Five wasn’t just any man, was he? If you were going to have to choose between your job and your relationship with him, you had no idea what you were going to do.

Sitting in front of the executive’s desk, your leg bounced up and down with nerves as you waited for Five to join you. When he arrived, he had the absolute audacity to look calm and unbothered as he sat down in the chair next to you. He greeted the manager and then turned to give you a wink and a small smile. You really had no idea how he could be this nonchalant. Maybe he didn’t care if you had to end things.

“As I’m sure you know, the reason you two have been called here today is –”

Five cut your manager off mid sentence. “Yes, we are fully aware. According to section 64, subsection D of the Commission Code of Conduct, we are prohibited from being in a romantic relationship with one another.”

The executive paused. “Well, yes, that’s correct. And so –”

“And so you have to inform us that we either have to end our relationship or resign from our positions.”

There was another moment of perplexed silence from across the desk. “Uh, yes…”

“But that is only because of the current departments we work for, due to conflicting interests, correct?” Five continued.

“That is correct, yes. But—”

“So, if we move to the same department, that shouldn’t be an issue?”

“Well…yes…I suppose…”

You looked at Five, completely confused. “Five, what are you doing? You don’t want to work in case management. I know you don’t.”

He nodded. “You’re right. But you can train to become a field agent.”

Your mouth hung open. “What?”

“You’ve only mentioned that you were interested in being out in the field about 50 times, so why not? They can always use more agents,” he turned to the manager, “Isn’t that right?”

The man cleared his throat. “Oh. Well, yes, that’s true.”

Five nodded again, as if that explained everything. “Alright then, so move her to my department. She has the determination and skill. And you have my official recommendation, which as you know, holds a lot of weight around here.”

There was another look of bewilderment in your direction. “Yes, Mr. Hargreeves, that’s true. I suppose we could do that—”

Five stood up with a smile. “Great! It’s all settled then.” He turned to you, still sitting in your chair and trying to make sense of all of this.

What he had said was true. You had told Five many times that you wished you could have his job. But you figured that was outside of your skill set. Five didn’t seem to agree. He knew you were highly intelligent, strong, and had the right personality. You just needed the proper training.

He reached out a hand to pull you up. “Is this all ok with you, darling? Do you have anything to add?”

You shook your head slowly. “Uh, no…I mean, yes…I mean, yes I’m ok with it and I don’t have anything else to add.”

“Great!” Five turned to the manager. “Just send me the paperwork we need to fill out and we can call it good.”

The manager shook each of your hands and it appeared that the meeting was over before it began. Five guided you towards the door with a hand on your back. You looked over your shoulder, still unsure of what exactly just happened, but you let him push you outside into the hall.

“What the fuck, Five?” you demanded, hands on your hips. “You want to tell me what is happening right now?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? They weren’t going to let us keep dating if we were working in our current departments, so one of us had to move. And I know this is what you really wanted.”

You thought for a moment. “So…you didn’t think of breaking up with me just to keep things the same?”

His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it shut again, his brows furrowing and creating deep creases between his eyes. “No. Of course not.” He took a few steps closer to you and took your face gently into his hands, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”

You drew in a sharp breath. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, this time with a smile.

You answered him, your own grin spreading slowly across your face. “Say that again.”

Five laughed, leaning down to kiss you and you hugged him around his waist. “I love you,” he said again after breaking away.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t know if I realized it until just now, but I do. I love you so much.”

Five nodded. “Well, that’s a relief. Because I would have looked like a giant asshole if I did all that and you shot me down.”

Laughing, you reached up for another kiss that quickly turned very heated. When you pulled away, Five was breathing hard and he tugged your body harder against his.

“There’s an empty room down the hallway over there,” he said suggestively.

You shook your head. “Sorry, honey, but we have to get to work. I have a lot of training to start on.”

“I think you forget who your new boss is,” he said in that serious tone of his.

Five pulled you in tightly again, kissing you hard on the mouth and flattened you against the wall. His hand roamed down to your chest and he gave your breast a small squeeze while pressing his knee in between your legs. When he heard you moan softly into his mouth, he backed away with a grin.

“You know, I can report you to HR for sexual harassment,” you said with a crooked smile, even though you were having a hard time controlling your heart rate.

“It’s not harassment if you like it,” he shot back before giving you a loud smack on the ass.

Then he turned around and walked away, leaving you flustered and hot; but also with that amazing feeling in the pit of your stomach from knowing you had found the perfect person to love and that loved you just as much in return.

#five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves #number five #number five smut #body positive #the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #five hargreeves smut #fanfiction requests #requests open #tua fanfic #tua fanfiction #umbrella academy fanfic #smut #badkittywrites

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ornateorchid · 8 months

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poly!141 x reader but when they come home from a mission, you're unable to take off work the following day :(

a/n: yes, this is a repost. i accidentally deleted it instead of making it private so i could fix something.

cw: domestic fluff, gn!reader, gaz and soap are clingy but in a cute way

they often get home at night, so it's not unusual for you to take off the following day. but this time was different.

whether it be a work party or an upcoming project, you were unable to take the day off. you knew your boys would be upset, but you were sure they would understand. they were excited to spend time with their lover after they came home from the grueling mission, so they were understandably dissapointed when they found out. but you weren't going to risk losing your job or an upcoming promotion, and they knew that.

so that is how you found yourself in the bathroom at 7 in the morning, brushing your teeth while your four companions are sleeping in the alaskan king-sized bed. they have no problem staying asleep despite the sound of running water as you get ready for the day. you were lucky that your alarm didn't wake any of them, or so you thought. moments after you finish rinsing your mouth out, kyle shuffles his way into the bathroom and stands in front of the toilet, where he shucks his pants down to relieve himself.

"kyle," you groan, "there's another bathroom, y'know?"

" 'm aware," he grumbles. "this one was just closer. and you're in here," he says as he finishes up his business and makes his way over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he rests his chin on your shoulder and snakes his arms around your side to wash his hands. he takes his time scrubbing his palms together, making sure the soap is all over his hands and between his fingers, before turning the water off. he reaches over to grab the hand towel, but he doesn't leave after he hangs it back up. instead, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses soft and light kisses against your neck.

"don't want you to go," he mutters. "stay in bed and cuddle."

"kyle, i have to," you tell him as you turn around in his arms and lean against the countertop. he leans forward, pressing his body against yours, and rests his head in the crook of your neck. "now go back to bed, or you're going to be grouchy," you insist.

he inhales your scent and gives you one last squeeze before reluctantly following your orders and making his way back towards the bedroom. you finish up in the bathroom before heading to the bedroom to change out of your pajamas. you notice that john and simon are no longer in bed, and kyle and johnny are cuddled up against each other. you grab your phone to take a quick picture of your boys before changing. once you're dressed and ready to go, you place a kiss against each of their cheeks.

the scent of eggs, coffee, and tea fills your nose as you exit the bedroom. you hear quiet chatter coming from the kitchen, which is where you are headed. you walk in to find john at the stove with simon behind him, his arms wrapped around the other man's waist, much like kyle's when you were in the bathroom. you smile at the two before moving towards the island, where there's a plate of bacon, eggs, and a mug filled with tea. simon is the first one to notice your presence.

"good morning, love," he greets. john turns around in his arms and flashes you a tired smile.

"morning," he mumbles.

"morning guys, what are you both doing up?" you ask as you take a sip from the mug sitting on the island.

"simon woke up when kyle left the bed and asked if i wanted some breakfast," john answers. "i was already awake so there was no point in saying no. plus, you and the boys deserve some breakfast as well."

"well, thank you," you say. the three of you continue to make small talk until john and simon finish cooking. johnny and kyle make their way into the kitchen not long after.

"thought i told you to go back to bed," you tell kyle, to which he rolls his eyes.

"johnny was the one who wanted to get up, and that bed is lonely when there's nobody else in it," he replies. you hum and nod before being crushed by johnny in a bear hug.

"missed you this morning, didn't even get a proper kiss!" he whines. you giggle and give him a quick peck on the lips before rubbing his back.

"didn't want to wake you," you justify, and he tsks.

"that's the whole point of a good morning kiss," he states. the five of you chat while finishing your breakfast and washing dishes, and the next thing you know, it's time for you to head out.

"have a good day at work, love," simon says as he places a kiss against your forehead. you give him a sweet smile and nod.

"yeah, we'll miss you," johnny says with a pout.

"it's only 8 hours, don't worry," you assure him, and he huffs.

"you're gonna have to make it up to us later," he replies, and you chuckle.

"and you're going to have to make it up to me for being gone for almost a month," you say before giving him a peck on the lips. you make your way around the room and kiss everyone before grabbing your bag and keys and heading out. they all watch out the window like sad puppies as you get in your car and wave goodbye.

they totally didn't mope around all day until you got home.

banner creds: @cafekitsune

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hotvintagepoll · 8 months

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Propaganda

James Stewart (It's a Wonderful Life, The Philadelphia Story, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington)—the thing about Jimmy Stewart is that for a weird-enough looking guy, he is yet somehow SO hot and SO believable, ALWAYS. He always plays the same person—he's always, well, Jimmy Stewart—yet that person can be a murderer, a dark cynic, a naive idealist, the boy next door or an old man who knows better, and every one of those is hot. I would jump his bones in a heartbeat

Toshiro Mifune (Rashumon, Seven Samurai, Grand Prix, Stray Dog)—i love and respect my boi tab hunter (rest in peace you beautiful, beautiful man ❤️), but after i watched like 12 of his movies in a row on tcm last year, i ALSO love and respect toshiro mifune, son of a literal actual hatamoto’s (a high-ranking samurai) daughter, also very possibly related to the best judokan EVER, AND, he’s the guy who SHOULD have been obi-wan kenobi. the fact that he’s ALSO hot as hell just adds to his appeal.

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

James Stewart propaganda:

"Ough I saw him first in It's A Wonderful Life, where he is very charming as a suicidal family man being absolutely crushed by capitalism. But then. The Philadelphia Story, in my opinion, should get the same kind of press The Mummy does for being a bisexual dream. Now I'm not really bi (not into women) and it's honestly up for debate whether i'm attracted to men or not, but COME ON!! The movie stars James Stewart as well as Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn (and Ruth Hussey). Stewart plays a common working man, a journalist, to contrast with Grant's character, who is mega-rich. He is scrappy and hates rich people. Hot! They have a whole scene together where he's super drunk and being really physical with his acting, which I love because he is kinda wet noodle shaped. Hot! He carries Hepburn in his arms while singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow. Hot! He gets punched in the face by Cary Grant. Hot!!! In The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, we get to see him portray an alternative type of masculinity, opposite John Wayne doing John Wayne. He is even more wet noodle-y, to put emphasis on his incompatibility with the rugged masculinity of the cow-boy, he wears an apron for a lot of the film, again, to blur his masculinity, and he gets shot. Hot! Also he's older here, if that's your thing. Long story short: He's giving librarian chic and The Philadelphia Story made me want to be poly."

youtube

“Here he is next to Grant, in what I believe to be a promotional shot for The Philadelphia Story. Please don’t get distracted by Grant (or do, i’m submitting him next).”

“He’s a nice guy and a good guy and deserves all the happiness and joy ever! Classic boy next door/class president kid that everyone loves for real. Stand-up for the Little Guy vibes. With a charming fun side!!”

Toshiro Mifune propaganda:

"In addition, he spoke fluent mandarin and every time he was casted in foreign films, he said his lines in the language of the movie (although they ended up dubbing him. He wasn’t happy about it though).”

Submitted: this gifset

Also submitted: this video (yes, that one)

"Crucial Toshiro Mifune propaganda: THOSE LEGS."

"That is hella muscle. Go watch The Hidden Fortress, aka Star Wars A New Hope. His thighs deserve an award."

#toshiro mifune #james stewart #jimmy stewart #hotvintagepoll #round 4 #fuck ! that ! old ! man ! ! !#Youtube

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mostlysignssomeportents · 8 months

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Three AI insights for hard-charging, future-oriented smartypantses

MERE HOURS REMAIN for the Kickstarter for the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There’s also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

Living in the age of AI hype makes demands on all of us to come up with smartypants prognostications about how AI is about to change everything forever, and wow, it's pretty amazing, huh?

AI pitchmen don't make it easy. They like to pile on the cognitive dissonance and demand that we all somehow resolve it. This is a thing cult leaders do, too – tell blatant and obvious lies to their followers. When a cult follower repeats the lie to others, they are demonstrating their loyalty, both to the leader and to themselves.

Over and over, the claims of AI pitchmen turn out to be blatant lies. This has been the case since at least the age of the Mechanical Turk, the 18th chess-playing automaton that was actually just a chess player crammed into the base of an elaborate puppet that was exhibited as an autonomous, intelligent robot.

The most prominent Mechanical Turk huckster is Elon Musk, who habitually, blatantly and repeatedly lies about AI. He's been promising "full self driving" Telsas in "one to two years" for more than a decade. Periodically, he'll "demonstrate" a car that's in full-self driving mode – which then turns out to be canned, recorded demo:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/

Musk even trotted an autonomous, humanoid robot on-stage at an investor presentation, failing to mention that this mechanical marvel was just a person in a robot suit:

https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai

Now, Musk has announced that his junk-science neural interface company, Neuralink, has made the leap to implanting neural interface chips in a human brain. As Joan Westenberg writes, the press have repeated this claim as presumptively true, despite its wild implausibility:

https://joanwestenberg.com/blog/elon-musk-lies

Neuralink, after all, is a company notorious for mutilating primates in pursuit of showy, meaningless demos:

https://www.wired.com/story/elon-musk-pcrm-neuralink-monkey-deaths/

I'm perfectly willing to believe that Musk would risk someone else's life to help him with this nonsense, because he doesn't see other people as real and deserving of compassion or empathy. But he's also profoundly lazy and is accustomed to a world that unquestioningly swallows his most outlandish pronouncements, so Occam's Razor dictates that the most likely explanation here is that he just made it up.

The odds that there's a human being beta-testing Musk's neural interface with the only brain they will ever have aren't zero. But I give it the same odds as the Raelians' claim to have cloned a human being:

https://edition.cnn.com/2003/ALLPOLITICS/01/03/cf.opinion.rael/

The human-in-a-robot-suit gambit is everywhere in AI hype. Cruise, GM's disgraced "robot taxi" company, had 1.5 remote operators for every one of the cars on the road. They used AI to replace a single, low-waged driver with 1.5 high-waged, specialized technicians. Truly, it was a marvel.

Globalization is key to maintaining the guy-in-a-robot-suit phenomenon. Globalization gives AI pitchmen access to millions of low-waged workers who can pretend to be software programs, allowing us to pretend to have transcended the capitalism's exploitation trap. This is also a very old pattern – just a couple decades after the Mechanical Turk toured Europe, Thomas Jefferson returned from the continent with the dumbwaiter. Jefferson refined and installed these marvels, announcing to his dinner guests that they allowed him to replace his "servants" (that is, his slaves). Dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, of course – they just keep them out of sight:

https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/

So much AI turns out to be low-waged people in a call center in the Global South pretending to be robots that Indian techies have a joke about it: "AI stands for 'absent Indian'":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

A reader wrote to me this week. They're a multi-decade veteran of Amazon who had a fascinating tale about the launch of Amazon Go, the "fully automated" Amazon retail outlets that let you wander around, pick up goods and walk out again, while AI-enabled cameras totted up the goods in your basket and charged your card for them.

According to this reader, the AI cameras didn't work any better than Tesla's full-self driving mode, and had to be backstopped by a minimum of three camera operators in an Indian call center, "so that there could be a quorum system for deciding on a customer's activity – three autopilots good, two autopilots bad."

Amazon got a ton of press from the launch of the Amazon Go stores. A lot of it was very favorable, of course: Mister Market is insatiably horny for firing human beings and replacing them with robots, so any announcement that you've got a human-replacing robot is a surefire way to make Line Go Up. But there was also plenty of critical press about this – pieces that took Amazon to task for replacing human beings with robots.

What was missing from the criticism? Articles that said that Amazon was probably lying about its robots, that it had replaced low-waged clerks in the USA with even-lower-waged camera-jockeys in India.

Which is a shame, because that criticism would have hit Amazon where it hurts, right there in the ole Line Go Up. Amazon's stock price boost off the back of the Amazon Go announcements represented the market's bet that Amazon would evert out of cyberspace and fill all of our physical retail corridors with monopolistic robot stores, moated with IP that prevented other retailers from similarly slashing their wage bills. That unbridgeable moat would guarantee Amazon generations of monopoly rents, which it would share with any shareholders who piled into the stock at that moment.

See the difference? Criticize Amazon for its devastatingly effective automation and you help Amazon sell stock to suckers, which makes Amazon executives richer. Criticize Amazon for lying about its automation, and you clobber the personal net worth of the executives who spun up this lie, because their portfolios are full of Amazon stock:

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

Amazon Go didn't go. The hundreds of Amazon Go stores we were promised never materialized. There's an embarrassing rump of 25 of these things still around, which will doubtless be quietly shuttered in the years to come. But Amazon Go wasn't a failure. It allowed its architects to pocket massive capital gains on the way to building generational wealth and establishing a new permanent aristocracy of habitual bullshitters dressed up as high-tech wizards.

"Wizard" is the right word for it. The high-tech sector pretends to be science fiction, but it's usually fantasy. For a generation, America's largest tech firms peddled the dream of imminently establishing colonies on distant worlds or even traveling to other solar systems, something that is still so far in our future that it might well never come to pass:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

During the Space Age, we got the same kind of performative bullshit. On The Well David Gans mentioned hearing a promo on SiriusXM for a radio show with "the first AI co-host." To this, Craig L Maudlin replied, "Reminds me of fins on automobiles."

Yup, that's exactly it. An AI radio co-host is to artificial intelligence as a Cadillac Eldorado Biaritz tail-fin is to interstellar rocketry.

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

#pluralistic #elon musk #neuralink #potemkin ai #neural interface beta-tester #full self driving #mechanical turks #ai #amazon #amazon go #clm #joan westenberg

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part one) | neil lewis x reader

title comes from the song you already know by bombay bicycle club

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you've been best friends with neil basically your entire life, and secretly in love with him almost as long. will you ever find the courage to tell him the truth?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut, angst, pining/unrequited love - 18+ only

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | alcohol consumption, 'kid' as a petname, reader being kind of a femcel, jonathan being kind of mvp??

Neil had asked you to make sure the Thriller section was alphabetized; sometimes you thought he was just giving you tasks to look busy, but then again, you could probably use it since the employees of Gumshoe Video never looked very busy. You spent most of the day on the couches, watching whatever old bizarre gem Neil put on— sometimes you thought he only had employees other than himself so that he could pay people to sit here and watch this stuff with him.

But, the point is, you were sorting tapes. Because everyone needs their VHS thriller movies to be in perfect alphabetical order.

There actually was a customer in the store, for once, so it was better not to be on the couch anyhow. You hadn’t really noticed him when he came in, but as he wandered around the shelves, he seemed to drift towards you.

You tried to ignore him when he stopped right beside you— and kneeling to look at the lowest shelf, he towered over you— but when you stood up he got your attention.

"Need any help, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning in a little too close. "I'm kind of a movie buff."

He had a frat guy kind of look about him— polo, boat shoes, quaffed blonde hair. He could be good-looking, you thought, if he didn’t dress like a discount Abercrombie model… and if he didn’t hit on random women at the video store. "I actually work here," you corrected, barely looking up from your task. This is why we need uniforms instead of just dressing up to promote specials…

"Oh, really?" he smirked. "What made you wanna work in a place like this?"

"My best friend owns the place," you explained, "and I'm, you know… kind of a movie buff."

"Right," he said, not seeming convinced. "You like Kubrick?"

You rolled your eyes so hard you almost choked: Wow, what a deep cut. But you kept a straight-ish face when you looked at him. "Yeah, he's pretty good. Don't care for how he treats his actors, but he was certainly a visionary."

"What are your top five favorite Kubrick movies?"

You knew this guy was a tool, but you were still a bit shocked that he actually had the gall to quiz you. "Excuse me?" you scoffed incredulously.

"Can you even name five?" he asked, looking horribly proud of himself, and you straightened up as you glared at him.

"You're heterosexual, right?" you asked him, getting a confused nod. "Can you name five women you've made come?"

Neil watched the guy storm out, Lucien cringed a bit from behind the register— and Jonathan, not seeming as if he had been paying attention at all, kept laying across the couch and tossing a ball up in the air to catch and throw again.

“Okay, that’s gotta be the third this week,” Lucien groaned. “What are you saying to these guys?”

“Nothing worse than what they’re saying to me,” you assured with a frustrated, sarcastic smile.

“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” Neil began, “that guy totally deserved it— but maybe, you know… work on your demeanor with customers?”

“Wow,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, “do you think I should smile more, too?”

“Wha— no!” Neil denied.

“Yes,” Lucien said at the same time, though he changed his answer with an awkward cough and mumble when you both shot him a look. “No, no— you’re good— you smile too much, even…”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Neil promised. “But I think half the guys that come here are just coming here to see you! Nobody even rents movies anymore.” He groaned a little, dropping his shoulders defeatedly. “Can’t you… tell them you’ll go out with them if they rent something?”

“What?!” you squeaked. “No!”

“Sales would double,” Lucien nodded.

“No,” you said again. “I’m not letting you pimp me out to sell tapes, Neil.”

“I just mean— maybe you don’t really go out with them,” he suggested. “Just… allude to the fact that you’re only interested in guys who…”

He trailed off as he searched around the shelves for a bit, smiling when he snagged a copy of The Maltese Falcon.

“— in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” he grinned, “you know— for example. Then they rent it to impress you and we make a few bucks.”

“I am only interested in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” you frowned, snatching the tape away and shoving it back on the shelf. “But that’s not the point.”

“Maybe you have to be more straightforward, you know,” Jonathan butted in as he sat up, “guys are dumb.”

“Yeah!” Neil agreed a little too easily.

“Just say something about how a massive VHS collection turns you on,” Lucien suggested, and you glared at him.

“Jesus!” you protested, but Neil tried to soothe you a bit.

"C'mon, kid, can't you just… flirt a little? Get our sales up?"

He'd started calling you kid since you two watched Casablanca together— which was especially stupid as you were both twelve at the time. At first you complained because he shouldn't be calling you kid with you both being kids; then you complained because neither of you were kids; and then you gave up. You still punched Lucien for trying to call you that once… you only barely let Neil get away with it anyways.

But you let Neil get away with a lot. It was a side effect of being secretly, but massively, in love with him.

It had been an issue since middle school— that was when the two of you became such good friends. Technically, you’d known each other since first grade (where you had shared your crayons, a true test of friendship at the time), and you’d sort of had a crush on him as early as elementary school (mainly because he was the only boy you could stand at the time), but it all kicked into high gear in seventh grade. That was when you became inseparable, when you got in trouble together, when you stayed up all night watching movies, when you went through all of life’s ups and downs together: you even went to prom together, platonically of course.

As for your feelings, you’d managed to hide them this long and still be his best friend, even when it sometimes felt like letting him stomp all over your heart without even trying. Honestly, the only thing harder than being in love with Neil was trying not to be in love with Neil: you adored his sense of humor, his generosity, his sensitivity— and he’d been there for you through the things you couldn’t have imagined surviving alone. That kinda stuff bonds you to somebody… and when that somebody has the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, it’s hard not to fall in love.

“Maybe I would flirt if I knew how,” you offered. “But I’m not exactly, you know, flirty.”

“How hard could it be?” Jonathan interjected. “Just, you know—”

You stared in quiet disbelief as Jonathan attempted to push his chest together with his arms. It wasn’t quite working, of course, and the rest of you watched on as he fumbled around trying to force some cleavage. “You look like an idiot,” you finally informed him after letting him do it for a minute.

“But is he wrong?” Lucien wondered.

“So, what, you guys really think that if I just went up to customers and—” you pushed your breasts together with your arms, accentuating them significantly in your tank top.

“That would work,” all three men asserted in unison before you could even finish.

“I fucking hate you guys,” you grumbled under your breath as you walked to the back, deciding to take your break in Neil’s office until these guys got their act together.

You never stayed gone for long, though— as idiotic as they could be, your friends were certainly charming. They won you back with a promise to let you pick what tape to put on, and the four of you ended up laying on the couches watching Roman Holiday.

When the movie was almost over, you rested your head on Neil’s shoulder; you guys did stuff like that, it was normal for you, but it always made your heart skip anyways.

This time, you were all hanging out at Jonathan’s primary workplace: the club. In fact, it was a much larger crowd than just you and the guys— plenty of your local friends and loyal supporters of Gumshoe Video, all sitting around a big table while someone’s mediocre cover band took the stage.

"So, uh, me and Denise broke up," Neil said suddenly, going back in for another swig of beer right after.

The others offered their mild shock and half-hearted condolences, but you knew it was going to happen— he'd told you before he did it. You tried to tell him that paying off a waiter to spill water on her was a weird way to prove what he already knew, but you couldn't disagree with his conclusion. She was definitely difficult, and shockingly judgemental for someone who managed to date a video store owner for this long.

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he promised, “I don’t think anybody’s too surprised, right?”

There was an awkward hesitation among the group as they wondered if they should lie, or just fess up now that he was obviously accurate. You broke the silence to suggest someone go get another round of drinks for the table, and even though that was pretty much a one-man job, nearly everyone agreed and quickly shuffled off— leaving just you, Neil, and Lucien.

“I guess tonight’s your chance to meet somebody new, don’t you think?” Lucien suggested. “Get over Denise, you know.”

“I think I’m already over Denise,” Neil decided.

“And if I told you that girl back there,” Lucien returned, pointing with the hand still holding his drink, “has been looking over here at you for the past ten minutes?”

You glanced where Lucien was pointing as well, seeing a girl in a denim mini skirt and massive hoop earrings settle her eyes on Neil before looking away quickly with a lip-gloss lacquered smile.

“I think I need some help getting over Denise,” Neil agreed suddenly, patting Lucien on the back before he left the table.

You wanted to pout, but you were used to this— he was good-looking, he got a lot of attention from women in places like this… it usually didn’t work out for him, though. Certainly not never, probably more often than most guys, but… definitely not every time.

You tried not to look over too much, you didn’t want to get caught spying or, even worse, looking a little jealous— but you noticed that every time you looked over at them, Neil was talking. That was his problem, see: he never fucking shuts up. Guys, girls, anybody who will listen— if you admit to not knowing about his favorite fifty-year-old spaghetti western or the most recent pre-Code horror comedy he watched, he’ll gladly blab to you about it for ages. The first time you glanced at them, you saw her giving him doe eyes, laughing at something he said— and the last time, those eyes had glazed over and her laugh seemed more nervous and confused; you smirked to yourself. He’s still Neil…

“So, um,” you struck up a conversation with Lucien, “what about you? Anybody here catching your eye?”

“That’s actually the perfect descriptor of my type,” he replied. “Anybody.”

You snorted. “Then you should go, you know, talk to anybody?”

He shrugged and frowned a bit, and it was a simple movement but you understood completely.

The band started to play a new song, something upbeat and energetic, and you smiled. “Wanna dance with me?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m drunk enough for that—” Lucien began to protest, but a minute later you were dragging him up by the stage. Neither of you were actually any good at dancing, mainly you were just kind of jumping and flailing around together, but it was fun and that was the point.

Eventually, more of your friends wandered in to join you; when the song ended, everyone clapped and cheered, the band bowing in gratitude. You only stole one more look over at Neil and his conversation partner, watching her interrupt his rant with a hand on his shoulder: your throat felt a little dry. You just hoped what she was saying was more like hey, my friends are leaving, I’ve gotta go and not hey, wanna come over to my place so you can keep explaining German expressionism to me?

Your heart dropped when he reached for her— what if he kissed her now? What if he wrapped her up under his arm and they walked out together? What if you had to spend the whole night thinking about him having sex with her?

“Hey, we should ask them if they know any Strokes songs!” Lucien suggested, tugging on your arm to get your attention, but your mind was elsewhere.

“Uh huh, yeah,” you mumbled blankly, and he frowned at you.

“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to look for what you were seeing; but Neil wasn’t reaching for her, he was lifting his hand to wave goodbye as she left. You beamed, even though you did feel a little bad when you saw Neil’s shoulders sink— it’s not that you wanted him to be alone forever, you were just relieved that you might have a few more moments to breathe before he got with somebody again.

“Nothing, sorry,” you answered Lucien, giving him your attention again. “What’d you say?”

“We should ask the band if they—”

And immediately, Lucien lost your focus as you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at Neil again— he was already looking at you, seeing you all on the dancefloor. You waved for him to join you, and he smiled as he made his way towards the stage. A new song began, even louder than the last, and you could blame that for not hearing Lucien’s question for the second time in a row.

Although he danced with you all for a few moments, Neil draped his arms over your and Lucien’s shoulders, nearly yelling to be heard over the music.

“You guys are coming over tonight for a movie, right?” he presumed. “Jonathan’s working ‘til late so he’s out, but—”

“Sorry, I’ve gotta be up early,” Lucien explained, “my brother and his wife are visiting, remember? We’re getting brunch and—”

“Whatever, party pooper,” Neil frowned, before suddenly smiling at you. “Guess it’s just me and you, huh, kid?”

You tried not to sigh too noticeably through your smile. “Yeah, me and you…” you agreed.

As you groggily blinked your eyes open, you found Neil staring at you, his face uncomfortably close to yours, with a big smile. “Mornin’, kid,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

You yelped and nearly jumped out of your skin while he laughed. “Jesus Christ, Neil!” you shouted, kicking off the blanket on you— and then you began to process where you were and why. “God,” you groaned as you held your head in your hands, while Neil kept laughing at you, “did I fall asleep on the couch again?”

It was sort of a rhetorical question— obviously you had, it would be much stranger if you woke up on the video store couch without having fallen asleep there. “Yeah,” he said, standing up and sighing a bit, “but you didn’t miss that much of the movie.”

“What happened at the end?” you asked, stretching your legs and snatching the blanket off the floor to fold up; Neil must have put it on you after you dozed off.

“No, we can finish it later,” he decided, walking up to the register, and you groaned.

“Seriously? Not even falling asleep gets me out of finishing The Man Who Laughs?”

He smiled a little as he started prepping the store for open. “Nope,” he said proudly, popping his lips on the p sound.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” you assured, getting up and trying to ignore the soreness in your back from sleeping on a ratty old sofa all night— you remembered helping Neil carry this thing from where he found it on the side of the road. Considering you knew where it came from, it was a wonder you ever sat on it, let alone slept on it… but this happened relatively often. Sometimes it almost felt like you slept easier here or at Neil’s apartment than your own.

You stood up and stretched your arms, sparing a glance over at him.

“Can I run home and change?” you asked, and he frowned.

“We open in ten minutes,” he noticed, “you won’t be back in time.”

“Yes, and who will serve the clamoring crowds that await our open outside?” you rolled your eyes, gesturing out the storefront to the abandoned sidewalk. “You can handle it on your own.”

“Just go to my place,” he shrugged, “it’s closer. And I think you left some jeans there anyway.”

Right— you’d borrowed a pair of his sweats to get comfy for a movie night, and forgot to take the jeans back when you left. You yourself had one of Neil’s short-sleeve button-ups at your place, when you’d both changed there for a costume party, but you let him believe it was just lost… it was too late to tell him now that you had it, ‘cause then he might ask why you kept it so long and then he might, somehow, deduce that you had been cuddling it at night from time to time…

“Right, okay,” you nodded, “but I still need a shirt.”

“Just borrow one of mine,” he said, like it was no big deal at all and didn’t make your heart skip.

For a second you wondered if you should protest— if he was still dating Denise, you probably would’ve said something. But you decided not to say anything, in case he changed his mind; you nearly bolted out of the store and down the two blocks to his apartment.

Your jeans were on the dresser, draped haphazardly in their same just-peeled-off shape you must have left them in last week. You grumbled to yourself a little about how he could’ve folded them for you so they wouldn’t be wrinkled… but then again, all his jeans were wrinkled, so he clearly didn’t know any better.

And now the fun part: picking a shirt. You smiled to yourself as you opened the drawer, perusing through t-shirts with old movie posters and semi-witty slogans… cute, sure, but those were pretty similar to what you already wore.

But the button-downs? Those were quintessential Neil, and you'd be wasting an opportunity if you didn't put one of those on.

You felt a little giddy as you opened the next drawer down and found them all folded. The first one you saw had light blue and white stripes, so you snatched it up and slipped it on.

The fit was definitely off, but you let yourself indulge in a fantasy for a moment: waking up here, in Neil's bed… in Neil's arms. You'd slip on his shirt while you went to find some breakfast, and he'd hum something about how pretty you look in his clothes, and you'd end up tangled in the sheets again not too much later.

Sighing to yourself, you buttoned the last button, leaving the two at the top undone so you didn't look too formal, and headed back to the store for opening.

Neil stared at you for a second when you walked in— at the shirt, specifically. You waited for him to say something, but he didn't. "What, should I not wear this one?" you asked, looking down at it as well, and he shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine— sorry," he mumbled, "just start sorting out last night's returns, please."

You definitely got a much stronger reaction from Jonathan, as soon as he walked in the door.

(Why was he here when he wasn't even working today? Who knows— he was just always here somehow.)

“Hey! You look even more like a lesbian than usual,” Jonathan greeted with a peppy fake-smile as he approached you, and you smirked a bit.

“Don’t blame me, it’s his shirt,” you nodded towards Neil.

“See, I told you you dress like a— wait,” Jonathan stopped mid-insult, looking back at you, then at Neil again, then at you; he pointed his fingers at each of you, crossing them back and forth. “Did… you two…?”

You narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to explain what he meant.

“Did you guys hook up?!” Jonathan accused, wide-eyed.

You felt your face getting warm, and you stammered out your denial; Neil started waving his hands in disagreement as well, but Jonathan was already on a roll.

“Oh my god!” he yelped. “The one time I miss movie night here and it gets freaky! Should’ve known better than to leave you two lovebirds alone—”

“Jonathan, we didn’t—” you choked.

“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Neil butted in. “She just borrowed my shirt! ‘Cause she— because—”

“I mean, we’ve kinda all been waiting for this to happen— but I never really thought it would,” Jonathan steamrolled along. “Well, yeah, I guess I thought it would, I just—”

“Wait wait wait, what?” Neil shook his head, stepping up closer to the two of you. “What does that mean?”

Finally, he seemed to get Jonathan’s attention, who began to nervously backtrack as both of you stared at him. “W-well, I just mean—” he started.

“And who’s ‘we all’?” Neil noticed. “This isn’t just you, thinking this?”

“I… I mean,” Jonathan scoffed, “you know— just, just some people… we thought that maybe… that since you two are so close, that you might—”

“Wow,” Neil chuckled, crossing his arms in disappointment. “You know, that’s so reductive. For a bunch of progressive, free-thinking hipsters—” he waved his hands as he said it in a mocking way— “you’re really just, like… like… you know, not! ‘Cause apparently men and women can’t really be friends?”

“No, come on, not like that,” Jonathan denied, “of course we can—”

“I mean, you’re her friend, you’re both single,” Neil noticed, gesturing between the two of you, “why don’t you two, just, you know… hook up!”

You cringed a little as Jonathan tugged at his collar nervously. “Well, I—”

“Come on, why not?” Neil went on, smiling at the suggestion even though he was clearly unamused. “I mean, she’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s got a vagina— why don’t you hit on her?”

“Hey, come on, Neil,” Jonathan sighed, “I’m well aware she’s got a vagina—”

“So what’s the problem?” Neil insisted. “Clearly you can’t just be friends with someone with a vagina—”

“I would really prefer if we didn’t talk about my vagina anymore,” you mumbled nervously.

“— how come you never hit on her, Jonny?” Neil pressed, backing him into a corner metaphorically— but also somewhat literally, he was leaning in and Jonathan was pressing his back more and more against the shelves.

“You really want me to answer that?” Jonathan replied, almost threatening. That made you furrow your brow a bit. It seemed like a rhetorical question, Neil trying to prove a point, but you didn’t expect Jonathan to have a literal answer.

“Yeah, sure,” Neil decided, “enlighten us.”

Neil glanced at you, like you were just as gung-ho about this interrogation, but you were feeling a little sick. You understood the spirit of Neil’s argument— and technically, you agreed with him— but it still stung to see him so incensed at the suggestion of you two together. You were trying not to take it personally, it wasn’t like he was disgusted by you or anything… he even said just now that you were pretty, and he’d told you that before, but… it still bothered you a little, for reasons you couldn’t quite describe and that you were sure were illogical.

“I never hit on her,” Jonathan answered, lowering his voice, “because I… I figured it would piss you off.”

That seemed to surprise you both, maybe for different reasons; you bit your lip to suppress a smile. Did Jonathan really think Neil was that protective over you? “Why would it piss me off?” Neil wondered, but he sounded a little defensive— defensive in a caught-red-handed sort of way.

“I… I don’t know,” Jonathan shrugged. “That’s just the vibe I got, okay? That she’s sorta… off-limits.”

Neil hesitated. “Well… she’s not,” he decided. “You’re grown-ups. Whatever you wanna do is none of my business— as long as you’re not being, you know, creepy or an asshole.”

“Of course,” Jonathan agreed, most of the tension settling as Neil backed up a step.

“Okay, well, ask her out then,” Neil instructed firmly.

“I didn’t say I wanted to!” Jonathan sputtered.

“Neil, Jesus!” you complained simultaneously, and he seemed to relent, shrugging as he walked back to the register.

“Sorry, sorry,” he dismissed, “just letting you know it’s… fine with me!”

You rolled your eyes a bit and looked back at Jonathan. “Sorry,” you offered him quietly, “he’s… I don’t know. He gets weird about that.”

“Oh really?” Jonathan scoffed sarcastically. “Didn’t notice.”

“The real reason you shouldn’t be hitting on me is because we’re coworkers, by the way,” you reminded him.

“Hey, I only work here part-time,” Jonathan noticed, “so I think that means it’s cool as long as we only go out part-time.”

You snorted, but he seemed to get nervous.

“You know I’m kidding, right?” he added quickly, and you nodded with a laugh.

"You know, I was thinking— we don't have many events at the store these days,” Neil mumbled around a bite of pretzel, watching you play your turn at Skee Ball. Normally he would put coins in the machine beside yours and try to beat your score, but the other machine was out of order and you decided to take a relay race approach. “What if we did, like, I don’t know… maybe a double feature for a couple bucks?”

“Neil, we show movies every night,” you sighed, “and we invite everybody, and ninety-nine percent of the time it’s just some combination of me, you, Jonathan, and Lucien.”

“Yeah, but this time we could do movies that more people like— a little easier to watch,” he suggested, “something that would get new people in the store.”

“New people don’t wanna sit on a musty old couch with strangers,” you reminded him, and he nodded as he chewed and swallowed his next bite.

“You’re right,” he agreed, holding the pretzel out towards you. “Wanna bite?”

You were trying to get through your skee balls pretty quick, so you just leaned your head over and chomped down on the end of one of the twists while he held it for you. You hummed in appreciation— it was pretty good, fresher than the last one you guys got here.

Visits to the arcade used to be your thing, back in high school (aside from watching movies, but that was a given). Then you slowed down with the trips, feeling a little old and out of place surrounded by kids— but the problem was, this place wasn’t filled with kids anymore. It hadn’t changed much at all since you were both in high school, and that was exactly the issue: it was old, run-down, a bit grimey… kids weren’t coming to arcades anymore anyways, they were all on the Internet apparently. So, while you and Neil sort of appreciated having the place to yourself, it also broke your heart knowing your old haunt couldn’t hold itself together forever… you two visited not just to recapture some old childhood joys, but to try to do your part to keep the business afloat.

You pretended to like being here— because you really did want to support the place, and Neil wanted to keep coming back— but it actually made you pretty fucking sad. Surrounded by all the neon, the noisy pinball machines, the Dig Dug machine that had a fifty-fifty chance of stealing your quarters, the photobooth (you still had some strips from that thing pinned to your wall, some so old that they’d faded from the sunlight that came in your window each day); it all felt sort of eerie now. You would’ve never known all those years ago how little this place would change, even though you never expected it to— you would’ve never known how little anything would change. Neil was still by your side, but still so far away… if you could talk to that fourteen-year-old girl now, you would warn her that no amount of time spent running around this place and playing Street Fighter was going to make Neil love her, or you.

But here you were anyways. “Woo!” you cheered when your final score came through: 50,765. “Beat that!”

Neil set the pretzel down on the bar-height table (on a pile of napkins, don’t worry, neither of you trusted those tables that much) and brushed the salt off his hands with a scoff. “Oh please, I can beat that with my eyes closed,” he assured as you crossed your arms.

As he put his quarters in and stepped up to the game, you smiled wide. “Alright, if you say so.”

You came up behind him and covered his eyes with your hands, making him jump and then laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Just keeping you honest,” you giggled, holding on tight even when he tried to move his head around so that he could see.

He did his best, usually struggling to even find where the balls were coming down more than rolling them decently— but after the first three went in the gutter without even scoring, you knew he didn’t stand a chance. He did score a few times, but when the buzzer went off and he lifted your hands from his eyes, he laughed at the pitiful 1,150 on the board.

“Ohh, that’s too bad,” you winced, “guess you’re just full of it.”

Still holding your hands away from his face, he spun around and twirled under your arms like you were dancing for a moment; it ended with him face-to-face with you, swinging your hands back and forth a bit to force you to twist with him slightly. “Wanna play Street Fighter next?” he suggested quickly. “I know I can beat you at that.”

The giddy joy of the moment dropped and shattered; if you thought about it too much, you probably could’ve cried right then. As pathetic, yet oddly aesthetically pleasing, as it would be to cry in an arcade, you swallowed down the emotion and smiled back at him. “Yeah, okay,” you agreed.

You’d been a little antsy all day— Neil seemed to notice, asking a couple times if you were okay, but you just nodded and shrugged it off. He had a sense for when you were lying; but that’s the thing, you weren’t lying, really. You just weren’t sure what to say. You weren’t sure if you should say anything. And yet, you felt a little guilty not telling him everything that was going on with you— not just guilty, but plain weird. Because you usually did tell him everything— except, you know, the thing— but you didn’t know if you should talk about this. Not that you couldn’t— but should you?

So you were sort of gnawing on your lip most of the day, keeping yourself busy with tallying late fees behind the desk, trying to keep conversation light and meaningless: thankfully, in that regard, Jonathan and Lucien made it pretty easy.

“Okay: fuck, marry, kill,” Jonathan began, “Dracula, the Mummy, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.”

“Dude, I can’t answer that,” Lucien refused.

“Okay, then Neil, what would you do?” Jonathan changed his target.

“Um, well,” Neil pondered, “I think I’d have to kill Dracula— spare the world from that evil, you know— and I guess I’d marry the Mummy—”

“Freud would like to have a word,” Lucien butted in.

“And I’d fuck the Creature from the Black Lagoon,” he concluded, “out of morbid curiosity.”

You snorted, but didn’t look up from your clipboard. “You come up with one that Lucien will do,” Jonathan challenged Neil.

“Alright, uhh, let’s see…” Neil stalled as he thought, looking up at the ceiling and stroking his chin dramatically. “Fuck, marry, kill: Sarah Connor, Ripley, and Trinity from Matrix.”

“Okay, see, that’s a real challenge,” Lucien affirmed. “If I marry Trinity, do I have to live in the post-apocalyptic wasteland or can she live here?”

“You’d have to live in the Matrix,” Jonathan announced, like it was obvious.

“Hm,” Lucien pondered, “do I know it’s a false reality? Does she know?”

“She knows, you don’t,” Neil decided.

“Is she gonna tell me? What if she has another guy on the side in the real world?”

“Okay, you’re overthinking this,” Jonathan groaned.

“And is this the Sarah Connor that’s already had John? ‘Cause if not, I can’t kill her, or the human revolution stands no chance— but if she has him, I can’t marry her, ‘cause I’m not ready to be a stepfather—”

“You’re useless,” Jonathan informed him flatly.

“Well, it’s easy then,” you offered, still tallying fees on the printed table. “You fuck Connor, marry Ripley and kill Trinity.”

“Yeah, I guess that works,” Lucien shrugged.

“If you’re so good at this game, you should play,” Jonathan decided. You looked up from your work for once, finding Lucien looking excited at the idea and Neil looking a little nervous but intrigued.

“I’ve got one for you,” Lucien decided, looking concerningly smug. “Fuck, marry, kill: the three of us.”

Jonathan let out a giddy ‘ooh’ and Neil raised his eyebrows. “Oh— I don’t know— that’s too weird,” you shook your head, “it’s different, you’re real—”

“Wait, wait,” Neil interrupted, “now I wanna know.”

You froze for a second, wondering if you should double down on not participating, or if you should tell him the first thing that popped in your head: am I allowed to do all three to you?

Instead, you set the clipboard down and crossed your legs, and the men seemed to straighten up as they prepared for your answer. “Alright,” you said, looking at them for a lingering moment before sighing. “I think I’d fuck Jonathan, and then kill myself.”

“Yes,” Jonathan hissed, shaking his fist triumphantly.

“Dude, really?” Lucien snapped at him. “That didn’t sound like a compliment to me.”

“Don’t care, I stopped listening after ‘fuck Jonathan’,” he replied. “Alright, Neil, you’re gonna have to make good on that ‘she’s not off-limits’ promise you made to me—”

But Neil wasn’t listening to Jonathan, he was still looking at you. “Wait— you wouldn’t marry me?” Neil interrupted, putting a hand on the desk and leaning in a bit closer— he looked half-amused and half-offended, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Um…” you started to wonder how to defend yourself from that. What did he expect you to say? Yes, I’d marry you, I’ve actually been planning our wedding since junior year.

“Hold on,” Lucien stopped you, “if she fucks you and marries you, that means I’m getting killed!”

“Yeah, so?” Jonathan smirked.

“What, you don’t think I’m marriage material?” Neil laughed… but he didn’t seem like he was really joking, per se. He didn’t seem serious either, of course, but you decided to take his question seriously since he’d dared to ask it twice.

“Well,” you mumbled, “no. I don’t.”

Then he seemed a bit more serious, adjusting his posture a bit. “Why not?”

“I mean… you’re my best friend,” you reminded him, “but… you’re not reliable.”

He nodded, pursing his lips together.

“You’re not ready for marriage,” you continued. “I mean, I think you’re just as sure of that as I am.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And honestly? You’re a great friend and all, but… if you were my husband, I don’t think I could really… you know, trust you…”

The silence seemed a little heavy— all the men were sort of frozen for a second, you wondered if you should wave your arm around to make sure time hadn’t stopped. But they did move, Neil first in fact, as he stopped leaning on the counter and nodded a little.

“I’m just surprised that you didn’t fuck Dracula,” Jonathan said to Neil in an attempt to cut the tension, “considering your massive man-crush on Bela Lugosi.”

“Hey, that reminds me, tonight’s movie is Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla,” Neil announced, apparently shaking off whatever odd energy he’d picked up just before, “you in?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan nodded, “should I bring drinks?”

“Uhh, yeah, why not?” Neil agreed.

“Is a six-pack enough?”

"Uh, maybe…” Neil considered, turning over his shoulder to look at you. “Kid, how many beers are you gonna want?”

You swallowed nervously. “Um, I… well, I’m not coming. I’ve got a date, actually.”

Of course it was just assumed that you would be there; you felt a little guilty admitting you wouldn’t, to the point that you almost considered just skipping said date and staying to avoid the awkwardness.

“Hey, great!” Jonathan said proudly, throwing his arms out wide.

“A date, huh?” Neil noticed, looking happily surprised. “Sorry, I— I didn’t know— you didn’t say anything—”

“No, it’s cool,” you shook your head, “it’s kind of a last minute thing… you know how they’re showing Rope at the Palace tonight? I met this, um, this guy the other day and we got to talking, and I asked him if he’d wanna come with me.”

“Rope, wow, that’s a great first date movie,” Neil nodded approvingly, “that sounds perfect.”

“Yeah— he hasn’t seen it, actually,” you admitted, smiling nervously, “so I guess how much he likes it will kinda be a good judge of if he’s worth going out again, right?”

Jonathan nodded approvingly, but Neil seemed skeptical. "Well, the showing isn't until nine— you can at least hang out until the movie starts, right?"

"I've gotta get home and get changed!" you explained

"You can't wear that to a date?" Lucien wondered.

"No!" you scoffed, looking down at your ripped jeans and Dracula t-shirt. "Besides, I have this whole plan of what I'm gonna wear— remember when we did Bonnie and Clyde for Halloween?"

Neil was Bonnie and you were Clyde, in fact; he looked shockingly good in that blood-red lipstick, you tried to convince him to wear it again but he insisted it was a one-night-only situation.

"I figure if I wear my Clyde suit, I'll look kinda like James Stewart!"

"You're doing drag on a first date?" Lucien pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, lighten up, I'm just dressing up for the movie— I'll still, you know, try to look pretty," you assured. "What, I don't look good in a suit? 'Cause I got a lot of compliments on Halloween—"

"No, hey, go for it," Jonathan decided, "it's festive!"

"I think it's cool," Neil agreed. "Have fun, alright? And if he creeps you out or something, call the store number and I'll come get you."

"I'm not really worried about—"

"You know? Just call the store when you get home," Neil decided, "so I'll know you didn't get murdered."

"Dude, chill," you groaned. "We're going to the movies, not, I don't know… hiking off-trail in the middle of the night."

You never agreed to call, but you did him one better: you ended up coming back to the video store afterwards, a bit over two hours later. Of course, the guys were still on the couch— apparently the movie was over but they were watching anime (undoubtedly something Jonathan had brought as a palate cleanser after the movie).

They all looked over at you when you came in the front door and the little bell rang; they seemed excited to see you, and presumably to interrogate you about the date. You sighed, knowing you couldn't have expected anything else, but you'd come here hoping they'd let you watch something with them so you could stop thinking about the date.

“How’d it go, hot stuff?” Jonathan purred, and you rolled your eyes as Lucien wolf-whistled.

“Oh yeah, it was awesome, best first date ever— I’m at his place having sex with him right now,” you frowned as you tossed your purse down onto the couch, and Lucien chuckled while Neil looked a little defeated.

“Not that great, huh?” Neil noticed.

“Was he a creep?” Jonathan assumed.

“Did he think the movie was bad?” Lucien pressed.

“No, no, he was great,” you sighed, “he loved the movie. We talked about it for a bit afterwards and he seemed to really understand it.”

“Okay! That’s good, right?” Jonathan said optimistically.

“Yeah— so good that I asked him when we could do this again,” you recalled, “and he said that he didn’t wanna lead me on and he wasn’t interested in seeing me.”

“What?!” Jonathan yelped, while Neil winced a little.

“He said I was really cool and funny and easy to talk to,” you explained, “but that he didn’t feel any chemistry.”

“Chemistry?” Lucien repeated, confused.

“He means he’s not attracted to me,” you clarified.

“What?” Jonathan scoffed again. “Why not?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, but you did know. “I think I’m just, like, friend material. I’m just ‘one of the guys’, you know? Not somebody you actually wanna be with.”

“But isn’t that what every guy wants? To date somebody who’s just ‘one of the guys’?” Lucien noticed, and then paused when everyone gave him an inquisitive look. “That sounded way less gay in my head. You get what I mean, right?”

“As much as I would love to never let you live that down,” Jonathan smirked, “you’re not wrong— like, a chick who can hang. That’s the best.”

“Well, here I am! Hanging!” you snapped. “Where’s my harem of suitors just desperate to date one of the guys?!”

“I mean, you are wearing a suit…” Neil noticed, getting a little defensive when you groaned and dropped your head back. “No, no, you look cool! I mean, you look really great. I’m not sure what he wasn’t seeing.”

"Maybe he's got a girlfriend!" Jonathan suggested. "And he was gonna cheat but he chickened out."

"Maybe he's intimidated by strong women," Lucien added, sounding more like he was quoting a Cosmo than actually thinking that.

"Respectfully, guys aren't that complicated," you assured. "If he wanted me, he would. He doesn't. It's not that deep."

Neil looked away when you said that.

"Well, come take a seat on the losers couch," Jonathan offered, but Neil sitting next to him frowned.

"You think I'm a loser?" Neil protested.

"No, I was talking about that couch," Jonathan said as he pointed to the other one which Lucien was on.

"I'm not even offended," Lucien decided, patting the spot next to him. "I'd rather be a loser with you than a winner with anybody else."

You smiled and plopped down next to him, pulling your legs up on the old sofa and finding the best angle to see the TV from. "Okay, catch me up," you requested, bracing for the barrage of borderline nonsensical exposition about whatever obscure anime Jonathan was forcing on the group this time.

Since the store closed at eight on Tuesdays, you and Neil decided to go out for a late dinner after locking up— the nearest place you usually walked to was a little hole-in-the-wall dishing out Thai fusion, and even though there were open tables inside, you took your paper boxes outside to eat together on a bench.

You each sat up on it with your legs crossed, facing each other, while he poked at his fried rice with his fork and you stirred your noodles with the chopsticks.

“The Palace is still doing their Hitchcock screenings on Sundays,” you recalled, “I think the next one is Rear Window. We could make Lucien man the store and go see it together?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he smiled. “But we gotta sneak in the candy, that place is getting so overpriced…”

“Well, that’s a given,” you laughed. “When I went on my date there I had Sour Patch Kids in my bag, but I was kinda craving Reese’s by the time the movie started..."

"That guy sounded like an ass, by the way," Neil announced with a frown.

"Oh, no, it's fine," you dismissed. "He was really nice, even when he blew me off, and I… I guess I wasn’t really expecting it to go anywhere, anyways.”

“Really?” Neil scoffed. “Then why’d you ask him out?”

Just in case. “I… I guess I’m trying to put myself out there more?”

“Huh? You’re trying to put out more?” Neil joked.

You rolled your eyes and unfolded your legs to kick him playfully. “You know what I mean,” you groaned.

“Yeah, yeah,” he admitted, “and I support it. It’s sort of insane that you’re still single.”

“Wow, thanks for the pep talk,” you rolled your eyes before shoving a thick swirl of spicy-sweet noodles in your mouth.

“No! I mean, like, I can’t believe you’re single,” he clarified, and you smiled somewhat awkwardly while chewing your mouthful. “You’re smart and fun and cool and pretty—”

Thanks to the food in your mouth, you didn’t have to worry about coming up with a way to respond to that, so you just shrugged.

“Seriously!” he insisted. “I mean, guys hit on you at the store— I wish somebody who actually deserved your attention would walk in that place.”

The guy I want is already there every day. Swallowing, you finally got a chance to talk to him again. “Thanks,” you sighed, “it’s fine, though. I mean, I’ve been single this long— I think I’ll survive.”

“Keep waiting for the right one, okay?” he encouraged, and your heart swelled.

“I will,” you promised, sounding more wistful than you meant to.

After a brief lull in the conversation, he cleared his throat and continued. “Hey, um, while we’re on the topic of Sunday, about the whole fuck-marry-kill thing—”

“I’m sorry,” you offered right away, “I shouldn’t have answered that. I wasn’t being serious, obviously.”

“No, I wanted to apologize,” he returned, “I shouldn’t have pressed you on your answer. It was funny. And it wasn’t like you could say you were gonna kill one of us.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that one was probably the worst of the three.”

“But I shouldn’t have asked you about what you would’ve done to me,” he shook his head, “I was making it weird. So, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “Did you really expect me to say I would marry you?”

“No,” he admitted, “I thought you’d say you’d fuck me, marry Lucien and kill Jonathan.”

“What?” you scoffed, though you were still smiling. “Why?”

“Well, Lucien would definitely make the best husband of the three of us,” he explained, “and Jonathan was the only one who wouldn’t have gotten butthurt about you saying you’d kill him. He probably would’ve just asked you to give him a nice send-off, y’know…”

You nodded in agreement, wondering if he was going to address the obviously missing third piece of all this… he sure was staring down into his empty fried rice container with intense focus…

“And, you know, as for me,” he began sort of thinly, “I, um… I guess I just figured, you know, you’re the most comfortable with me.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “obviously, but maybe that would make it worse? Like, at least with Jonathan, I know that if we ever did hook up or something, it probably wouldn’t mess up our friendship. ‘Cause we’re friendly and all, but it’s not so serious. But with you…”

“Uh huh, well, that’s why it’s good it’s just a game,” Neil finished for you, chucking his trash in the nearest can. “Don’t have to worry about any of that stuff. Least of all you and I being married. Talk about a disaster.”

You choked on your throat. “Yeah. No kidding…”

“Well, anyways,” he sighed, standing up from the bench and stretching for a moment, “wanna come over and see if the game’s still on?”

“Oh, um, I’m just gonna go back to my place,” you decided, throwing away the last couple bites of your food on account of your suddenly-lost appetite. “Kinda thinking I should get my sleep schedule in order.”

“That’s good,” he nodded, “I respect that. Have a good night, then, kid.”

“Yeah, you too,” you breathed, waving as he turned and walked off into the night, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.

You looked down at your lap, taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes for a second. Did he have to be so sweet just to cut you down like that? Could he have even known how it would hurt you to say that?

It’s not even like he was wrong, but you were dying to ask him why he was so sure that you and him together would be so bad. What was wrong with you that he still couldn’t see you that way?

Not interested in this repetitive thought cycle anymore, and being very familiar with where it leads, you got up and started to walk down the street. You didn’t turn to go to your apartment, though; you kept going until you heard live music— scratchy, whiny guitars and throbbing bass drums— seeping out of the club. You just needed to be somewhere familiar that wasn’t the video store or home; and, this place conveniently also had liquor.

You slipped inside— hit by a wave of sound as you entered— and took a seat at the bar, half-listening to the band that was playing, pretending to be focused at all on what was going on in the outside world rather than just spiraling into your own thoughts inside your head.

“Hey,” Jonathan nodded at you from the other side of the bar, and you nodded back. He instantly started looking for Neil— of course he would— and you deflated a bit. “You here alone?” he noticed.

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“Wow,” he smirked, “it’s like when Peter Pan’s shadow escaped.”

You should’ve probably been offended by that, but it wasn’t worth denying— and you were more interested in getting liquored up than justifying that you did, in fact, have a life outside of Neil.

And, actually, Peter Pan was a pretty good way to describe Neil, too. Fear of commitment, leader of freaks and outcasts, daydreamer… all he needed was some green tights. “What are you drinking tonight?” Jonathan finally asked.

“What pairs well with feeling completely unattractive and unlovable?” you sighed.

“Well, that would be my drink of choice: whiskey,” he smiled, setting a bottle down in front of you. “I’ll do a shot with you.”

He poured you both a shot, and you timed it to shoot it back together; he, obviously, took it better than you, and you cringed from the acidic flavor. "Jesus, people really drink this on purpose?" you grumbled.

"Yeah, give it a few minutes," he assured, "it's gonna numb all those stupid emotions."

"I don't have a few minutes," you sighed, "do you have anything more fast-acting?"

"Yeah— a second shot," he joked, but you nodded in agreement. "Okay, shit, you're not messing around tonight."

"Nope," you agreed, watching him pour just one shot this time. "You're not doing it with me?"

"I need to pace myself, I'm here 'til two," he explained.

He slid it to you and you contemplated it for a moment, before forcing yourself to get it down as quickly as possible to avoid the burn. You still grimaced, but recovered quickly.

"Is it working yet?" he wondered.

"I guess," you answered half-heartedly.

“Well, you could always gush to the bartender about all your problems?” he offered, but you just shrugged it off. “Come on, you wouldn’t be the first tonight. And since I know you, I might actually be able to help.”

“I don’t think you can help with this one,” you assured. “This problem has been going on longer than you’ve been around.”

“Oh?” he pressed. “Let me guess… boy troubles?”

“Isn’t it always?” you scoffed, irritated that he saw through you that quickly— apparently your reputation of being horrible with men preceded you.

“But this is just one boy,” he presumed. “One boy who… conspicuously isn’t here tonight…”

“Is it that obvious?” you wondered with a whine, dropping your head in your hand.

“Well, if you weren’t having any issues with him, you’d be with him,” Jonathan guessed— and it wasn’t bad logic.

“But, like, does everyone know?” you wondered. “Does everyone but him know that I’m in love with him? Oh god, Jonathan, you don’t think he knows, do you?”

“Wait— love?” he repeated, and you swallowed thickly as you realized the whiskey had already gotten you to say too much. “You… you’re…”

“Okay, so I guess not everyone knows,” you mumbled.

“No, yeah, I think you managed to keep that under wraps,” he assured with a nod, eyes getting wider. “Sheesh. No, I had no clue. Now it’s even weirder that you guys aren’t together.”

“Well, he doesn’t love me,” you explained flatly.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, god no— I mean, he tells me he loves me,” you corrected, “but he doesn’t mean— we just say that, you know, like at the end of phone calls or when one of us is sad. It’s not, like… we never meant it that way.”

“Right, okay,” Jonathan nodded as he wiped a glass— the way bartenders do when they’re listening to people— but he didn’t seem to understand entirely. “So, you’re not his type?”

“I don’t think I know what his type is,” you scoffed. “I haven’t really noticed a pattern, have you?”

“You’d have to have a few more data points to really draw any connection between them,” Jonathan laughed.

“Yeah, fair,” you smiled, “he’s only had… I don’t know, maybe four girlfriends since I’ve known him? One in high school, for a month— then Eva, they weren’t even really serious, just dating for a while. And then, uh—”

“Tanisha,” he remembered.

“Right! I liked her,” you hummed.

“What happened to her again?” he wondered.

“Got back with her ex,” you recalled.

“Wow, that blows,” Jonathan sighed.

“She told me before she told him,” you admitted. “She wanted me to tell him for her, actually, but I… I couldn’t do that to him. But I came over right after, you know, and we ate ice cream from the tub and watched movies ‘til we fell asleep.”

Jonathan made a sort of face, one you couldn’t quite interpret, and you tilted your head as he seemed to mumble to himself.

“What?” you wondered.

“Nothing, it’s just… he’s kind of an idiot,” Jonathan decided. “I don’t think he gets how lucky he is.”

You wrinkled your brows together, laughing a bit. “What do you mean?”

“Look, I’m not saying he’s, like, legally obligated to fall in love with you just because you guys get along so well,” he clarified, “even if that’s what Neil accused me of thinking— I really do think it’s fine for men and women to just be friends.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“I’m just saying… like, how do you have someone who cares about you that much, and you end up dating fucking Denise for almost a year?!”

“Well, nobody knows how he ended up with Denise,” you coughed. “That was a fucking disaster.”

“I mean, not to be crass, but, uh,” he stumbled a little over his words, “I’m surprised that you coming over after that breakup didn’t turn into a rebound, at least.”

“After eating that much ice cream?” you laughed. “That would’ve been awful.”

“But really, though,” he insisted. “I have a hard time believing the thought didn’t even cross his mind…”

“I can’t really be sure that it didn’t,” you admitted, “I’m just saying, nothing happened.”

“I guess he’s just known you too long to go for it with you,” Jonathan shrugged.

“It’s not just that— you know Neil, he’s kind of an adrenaline junkie,” you rolled your eyes, “or at least he thinks he is. He wants adventure, I guess— and he always talks about us doing spontaneous stuff but it never happens— and I’m just too familiar. Too comfortable.”

“Yeah, he does kinda have something against stability,” Jonathan agreed, “do you think it’s a divorced parents thing?”

“I don’t know, I stopped analyzing that a long time ago,” you groaned, “and I told myself I would stop trying to be what I thought he wanted, but I think I keep doing it.”

“Well, I know you know him better than anybody,” Jonathan countered, “but I know guys, and that guy… there’s no way he thinks of you as just a friend.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because he was fucking lying when he said it wouldn’t piss him off if we hooked up,” he insisted.

“You really won’t let that go, will you?” you grinned.

“Did you see his face? He couldn’t get the image out of his head!” Jonathan assured confidently. “And then that whole ‘fuck marry kill’ thing— he started getting nervous, I think.”

“Nervous about what?”

“That something could really happen with us!”

“You really think he would care?” you frowned.

“I swear to— to Ash Williams,” he decided, “that if I walked into that fucking video store, and told him that you and I did whiskey shots and you came back to my place and we did the horizontal tango, he would beat me to death with the register.”

“You swear on Ash Williams?” you repeated with a smirk, knowing that meant more than swearing on any deity would mean.

“Him and his chainsaw hand,” Jonathan assured, putting a hand over his heart to add to the bit, and you giggled.

“Well, I don’t think Neil can pick up the register,” you decided.

“In that case, you let me know the next time you wanna get back at him for something,” he offered with a wink, and you smiled at him sympathetically.

“I know you’re trying to be nice,” you sighed, “but you don’t have to do that.”

“Hey, come on,” he frowned, “I know you’ve got this I’m insecure I’m a weirdo nobody notices me thing, but you can’t actually think it would be some kind of charity work for me to sleep with you—”

“No, I don’t mean that,” you sighed, “I know I could get laid if I wanted to—”

“But you don’t wanna get laid,” he finished for you, “you wanna be loved.”

You sighed again, even harder. “Yeah,” you nodded.

“I know,” he agreed. “And you know I love you, but—”

“But not like that,” you took your turn finishing his sentence.

His only reply was raising the bottle of whiskey with a sideways smile, a silent offer to pour another shot— for both of you this time.

“Yes, please,” you hummed, watching him fill the miniature glasses with a sigh.

part 2

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #watching the detectives #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #you know... eventually #but you have to get to part two for that lol

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jymwahuwu · 6 months

Note

Sunday being head of the Oak Family. What if reader is the head of other Family who is trying to act as political opposition? Acting all tough, even hostile, trying to be a strong woman and a leader.

Sunday knows solution and she can be easily fixed!

Reader simply lacks a husband and couple of kids to care for so our benevolent angel Sunday will generously provide it for her, everyone deserves to have family, even bitchy arrogant women like reader.

Thank you thank you!! The content that humiliates arrogant reader is my favorite ><!! I think Sunday will not discipline you immediately, but try to give you a chance…

TW: yandere, non-con, brainwashing, mind control, housewife kink, inappropriate traditional concepts (language about serving husband and family)

Which family are you the leader of? Alfalfa who controls economy, Bloodhound who maintains security, Iris who develops culture and entertainment, or Nightingale who is responsible for construction?

Depending on which family you belong to, your experience may be a little different… If you are the leader of Alfalfa, then it is expected that you will use finances as your leverage against Sunday's leadership, such as refusing to pass some reimbursements. Of course, those are non-essential expenses… but they are quite troublesome, because those are the activities Mr. Sunday wants to organize. If you're a Bloodhound, you can expect to show him your fangs, taunt him, and quietly frame him. If you were Iris, you might make some promotional videos of your own and use some subtle ways to disparage Sunday, knowing that all negative press is banned in Penacony. If you are Nightingale, then you will find some excuse to pause the construct, especially those designs that Mr. Sunday likes.

But no matter which family you are the leader of, you do not hide your hostility and provocation towards Sunday. You were tired of the mask of hypocrisy on his face. He hindered you from becoming the leader and representative of The Family! You repeatedly framed him with conspiracy, sneered in his face, and pushed the atmosphere in the conference room to be tense. Some members have reminded you that there should never be conflicts or disputes among family members. Well, of course you don't want to argue with Mr. Sunday, so you reply perfunctorily. The teachings of Lord Xipe are in our hearts and we just communicate.

Sunday. You feel like he's actually the one adding fuel to the fire. He always stares at you with a kind of pity, condescension, and a perfect smile, as if you are making trouble unreasonably. "Praying for you," he said. "The anger and arrogance in your heart will only serve as thorns to stab you. It is important to learn to bow your head reverently and humbly."

You want to roll your eyes. Of course you believe in Xipe, but you don't want to be in the same family as Sunday. Feeling that there is some strange and terrifying grand truth behind that flawless mask, but you don't want to understand it at all. To live in harmony with such a guy? Maybe it could happen in a few hundred years.

Again. You used some conspiracy to destroy Sunday's reputation. This time… it almost worked, just a little bit. You are not discouraged. You tilt your head in mock innocence and prepare to leave his office. But this time…it seems different. He did not say those admonishing and decent words to you. The sunlight slanted onto the colored glass, and the halo behind it almost made his whole person soft and decent.

"You know, I never like to use strong tactics. Now I know where the problem lies." There was even a faint smile on Sunday's face. "You need to show some proper respect and deference, and you're just one family away from that."

"What are you talking about again?" You frowned, but you couldn't move when you wanted to say the next word. Panic grips your heart. A burst of cheerful and moving tones enter your mind, like a sequenced program. "Come to me." This sentence seems to be singing. You don't know if it's an auditory hallucination or what.

Your body obeyed uncontrollably, and slowly walked to him and knelt down. Get away from him!! Get down on your knees. You met his gaze pitifully and weakly, putting on an expression you didn't normally have. "I'm sorry," you heard yourself apologize. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Sunday. I've been so mean to you."

What are you doing?

"I will serve you with love... my husband." Your hands rested obediently on his knees, like a puppy. You already want to slap yourself. What nonsense are you talking about? "I realize that I am too bossy all the time. Please give me a chance to make it up to you..."

You carefully unzipped his pants and stroked and rubbed his warm cock with your hands. That- what is that- so awful- why is it so hard and long, the head of the cock is standing in front of your face, standing menacingly... A thin mist surrounds your tears. Then you lowered your head submissively and tried your best to take it all in, but it was already pressed against your throat before it was even halfway through. A feeling of nausea, but you still try to do the best you can for your husband.

(The muffled gurgling sounds, the saliva and tears.)

After your wet mouth felt sore, you finally had him gently pull your hair. You wanted to scream, curse him. This thought is like roaring in the wind, but you say. "Isn't this good enough? Please…" Before you could finish, those white thick creams covered your face. "Ah…"

"No. You're doing great. " Sunday caressed your face dotingly, even though your face was now shrouded in humiliation. "We're going to have two beautiful babies. I look forward to seeing you do this every day."

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail x you #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #honkai x reader

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cheriladycl01 · 4 months

Text

It’ll come eventually, promise! - Lando Norris x Driver! Reader

Plot: You are there for your boyfriends first race win!

Starting in Miami was always a great feeling. But what was even better was having been promoted to F1 for the 2024 season and getting to drive it as one of the top 20 drivers in the world.

When Lawrence Stroll dropped Aston Martin to bankroll a new team at the end of 2023, Lance moving was without a doubt a thing happening. But that left a free seat open at a high mid field team. Which they were more than happy to get you on board with considering your racing history.

Fernando in the few races you’d got to know him had became an excellent mentor and had taught you lots and you were thankful for him. He was like your on grid dad.

You’d had a decent season so far.

P10 in Bahrain - your first race and you were in the points only a few seconds behind your teammate.

P6 in Saudí - where you were able to drive with your old Prema teammate Oliver Bearman who was just behind you in P7.

P5 in Australia - where you got to celebrate your boyfriends first podium of the season.

P12 in Japan - some unforeseen issues in qualifying leaving you in P16 and having to climb your way up.

P6 in China - happy to celebrate both your points finish and your boyfriends first P2 podium of the season.

And you didn’t want to disappoint in Miami, not when there was so many people riding on your going well. F1 Academy where there looking up to you, and all of the stars that normally attended Miami.

Thursday came around and you were in the paddock messing around in TikTok with Fernando. Everyone loved you guys as the ‘dad and daughter duo’ where everyone could see how much he genuinely cared for you and wanted you to succeed. He always would praise you and boost your confidence when talking about you in interviews like many others making your have a huge fan base after only being in F1 for a few months.

Friday came around and you were still feeling great, the Miami heat was blazing and you and Fernando had been making TikTok’s to the Will Smith song that had been trending on F1 TikTok with the build up and anticipation for the weekend ahead.

Getting in the car for FP1 and you were flying. P5 … Alonso down in P19. He was too stressed though. But you were beyond excited knowing you got P5 without pushing too hard as your engineers had just asked you to get used to the track in an F1 car.

It was your boyfriend who you’d snuck into his hospitality just to give a massive cuddle when you text you saying he needed you, that wasn’t having a great weekend.

Despite the vast amount of upgrades brought to his car he’d only come in P16 where as Oscar who had half the upgrades he did was cruising up in P2 and he was frustrated to say the least.

Next was the Sprint Qually which you’d actually been doing well in for the other in China the previous week.

You went coming in a measly P10, not enough for points.

Lando was even more annoyed with starting in P9 on the same row as you, not that he thought he was the better driver or anything but right now he definitely had the better car and he just couldn’t work out why it wasn’t performing.

“Baby, it’ll come eventually I promise” you sighed that night as you held him closely in your shared hotel bed. His head was rested in your chest as all of his worries and woes were let out.

He always thought so negatively of himself and you hated it, in your eyes he was the most amazing person ever.

“But what if it doesn’t, what if I never win and … I’m just a wash out of podiums and missed opportunity” he said looking up at you, and his eyes made you cave. He looked so sad and helpless.

“Lando… I promise you. When the time is right, you’ll get that win. You’ve worked so hard for this and it’s something you deserve. Baby, you are the most driven and ambitious person I know and you will be a world champion. In my eyes you already are” you told him softly and he just pulled you tighter to him as he nuzzled into you more, so thankful for you being in his life.

Come the next day, and it was the sprint race. You managed to get yourself into the points coming in P6 having overtaken Lando and those ahead. Once Lando saw you going for it he knew he had to get up there with you!

He started to push it a little too much and ended up with a DNF. It was a very disappointing weekend thus far considering the amount of upgrades McLaren had brought to the team.

Qually begun and you were all the way down in P11 after your car malfunctioning in Q2 meaning you didn’t get into Q1.

Lando had a better qualifying coming in just ahead of his teammate. He felt a lot better going to bed with you that night and it was more him comforting you than the other way it had been the other night.

“Baby, you got all you could out of that car. You literally couldn’t do anything else your engine shut down!” He exclaims as you hadn’t really spoken to him all night. You’d been silent at dinner and once your got back to the room.

He pulled you into a hug as you let out a sigh thinking things over in your head before smiling at Lando and kissing his neck and up his jaw.

“Thank you, for the pep talk. And just being you” you smiled at him.

Then came race day.

Oscar had an incredible start going from P6 all the way to P2 and was really increíble. Your also had a fantastic start, deciding to be aggressive and managed to go from P11 into P8. You managed to get the inside line overtaking Yuki, your teammate Alonso and then Hamilton.

“Amazing driving Y/N. It’s looking good, we going to try for the 1 stop. Manage those tyres for now” your race engineer explains. And you did, slowing your pace for a little bit. You abused the safety car for you pit stop, just like Lando did, leaving you coming out in P6.

��Is Lando still in P1?” You ask, knowing he would be ahead of Max and Charles right now.

“Yes, Lando, Max, Charles Oscar and Carlos ahead” he explains. Right now you were defending from Perez when all of a sudden he swung round the outside knocking Sargeant into the gravel and into the race.

“Yellow flag for Sargeant!” You say clearly into your radio for the severity of where Logan was.

“Yellow flag and safety car released” your engineer informs you. You were stressing now, you knew that Lando would be fighting Max once the safety car is released.

“Is Logan okay? Is he out the car!” You ask.

“Yes, it’s all fine”

You focused on closing the gap to Carlos, who you knew would be fighting Oscar hard to try and get up into the podium positions so he can celebrate with Lando if he can hold of Max.

You were 0.076 seconds behind Carlos but before you could overtake him, he clipped the back of Oscar as he goes for an overtake nearly sending the Australian into you.

He pitted, leaving him down in a lower position out of points by the time he had come out, meaning that you and Carlos were battling it out with each other and Sergio Perez behind both of you.

“If you can get within 5 seconds of him, he has a time penalty for the incident with Piastri” your engineer explained to you.

“And Lando, is he still P1?” You ask.

“Yes Lando is P1 with a 6 second lead on Max” he answers and you feel as though you could cry.

“Today is the day Marcus” you smile as you speed up catching back up to Carlos. With the laps left you manage to overtake him getting into your highest finish of the season in P4. You couldn’t share a podium with your boyfriend but, part of you didn’t want to.

“Race finished, P4 amazing job today Y/N congratulations” your engineer exclaimed.

“What about Lando? Did he win?” You ask immediately not too bothered about your result.

“With a 7 second gap to Max, Lando won” he says and you let out a scream of happiness for him. YES’s whooping and a lot of swear words came from your mouth into the radio.

You knew later it would be aired and you get in trouble for your language but you really didn’t care.

Today was Lando’s day and you didn’t want to damper that. He’d just won his first F1 race after 110 of them. And you couldn’t be prouder of him, you were so happy and you were sobbing for him as you pulled up into where all the cars were.

You went over to your team, in Aston who had all come out to congratulate you on your best race so far. P11 to P4 on one set of tyres.

You were hugging them before one tapped you on the back, showing you Lando who was just getting out of his car. You rushed over to him pulling him into a massive hug.

“And there is Y/N Y/L/N driver of Aston Martin congratulating Lando on his first win with a huge hug! She’s crying, he’s crying! It’s a beautiful sight really, just two young drivers congratulating each other … wow what a day for both of them” the sky sports presenter admits on the tv watching the interaction down in park ferme.

“I love you so much! You are incredible Lando Norris” you smile gripping his helmet and flipping up his visor so you could see his tears rolling down onto his balaclava.

“Omg I won! I can’t believe I did it! I WON!” He cries and you just grin.

“Believe it Lando Norris because you are now an F1 race winner!” You smile and he does a cheer. You let him walk off, watching as he jumps into his team to celebrate.

You rush with the team after they’ve let Lando go, to go watch the podium. You were so excited and it definitely wasn’t something you were going to pass up!

As you watch him lift up his trophy it feels like your falling in love with him all over again, and it’s a feeling taking over your whole entire body. There is nowhere else and no one else you want to be or be with right now.

He can’t stop smiling at you and you can’t stop the happy tears from rolling down your face. Your cheering with Bianca who you’d grown close to and started to mentor a little bit even though you had Tina and Jessica around a little bit more as your Aston Martin girls.

Once the anthem starts you can’t help but see just how radiant he looks, the way the lowing Miami sun was beaming on him and making his already golden skin glow.

That was your man, your boyfriend and your future husband because in this moment you were sure you would do anything and everything to keep him by your side.

He was your soulmate and you were his, and as he was looking down at the way your face had tear stains and was a little puffy from rubbing away the tears he couldn’t agree more.

Clubbing for sure wasn’t the only celebrations that happened that night for you and Lando, that’s for sure.

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

#lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando fluff #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #ln4 one shot

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glitterjay · 5 months

Note

!idol jay request

who’s needy at times and is literally pussy drunk for you <3

⭒ idol!jay x non!idol reader (fem), semi public / unprotected sex, quickie, established relationship, suggestive content mdni

⭒ c's note: this had me seeing stars

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @kissestoenha

enhypen had finally finished promotions, which meant you were allowed to wait with the rest of the staff in the waiting room of their last performance.

it amazed you how hard working this guys were, and how evident it was that they enjoyed their work to the fullest. but it made you happier that your boyfriend Jay could spend more time with you.

with their schedules being so full, the times when you saw him were quite rare. the company only let you be around the group in their very last schedule, to avoid them (and most certainly your boyfriend) getting distracted, and so you wouldn't move around so much like they did.

as soon as the group entered the room, you stood up with the make up artists, stylists, and other staff to give them a round of applause. they worked very hard and deserved recognition.

there was a singular face that was looking at you differently. jay had been staring at you with hungry eyes as you congratulated the rest of the boys. as soon as you reached him to hug him, his lips found yours.

you pushed him away, face flushing red since the rest were still in the room. he sighed, hugging you and burying his head in the crook of your neck. "I need you so bad," he whispered.

it took jay 3 minutes to say the lamest excuse, dragging you to an empty waiting room nearby. he locked the door and sat you down in the small couch that accompanied the space.

he stood tall in front of you, looking down at your small figure just sitting in front of him. "I missed you," he said, landing his right hand on your cheek softly. you melted into his touch. you had missed him as well.

without losing time, jay was quick to have you laying on your back, legs on his shoulders as his cock stuffed you whole. had it been that long since he last fucked you? your hole was tighter than he remembered, swallowing good.

"fuck baby, I'm going to fill you up real good."

#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen #engene #enhypen smut #kpop #kpop smut #hard hours #enhypen hard hours #enhypen jay #park jay #park jay smut #enhypen jay smut

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thrillered · 2 months

Note

idk if you are taking request, but if so

is it cool to request surprising spencer in lingerie? doesn't have to get smutty btw just feel like he deserves a lil something

Your Surprise | Spencer Agnew x reader

Slightly NSFW🚨

Pls enjoy ily

Spencer was a great boyfriend. You loved him very dearly. He was the picture of perfection in your relationship. You had been living together for 3 years and had a comfortable routine.

Lately though, things were weird.

Spencer had been working a lot more lately. You knew his job was demanding, especially since he got his promotion last year and that his company was working on a few big things right now.

He was clearly overworking himself and your relationship was feeling the consequences. It was neither of your guys fault, you both were working hard– you worked as a game dev and just finished a large project.

You used to get home around the same time, now he was getting home over an hour later than you, quiet, tense, and exhausted. You hadn’t been getting more than a kiss hello and goodbye from him in weeks. He was usually a very generous lover and you always tried to give back to him.

—

Spencer had sent you a text around lunch letting you know that the project was getting pushed back by two weeks and he wasn’t sure when he would get home tonight. That was okay, of course, but you were disappointed.

You had a half day and decided to try and do something extra nice for Spencer. You went to the grocery store and picked up a bunch of fresh ingredients so he would be able to come home to a hot home cooked meal. While you were driving home to begin food prepping you noticed a new clothing store in a strip mall.

Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to stop in. Most of the clothing wasn’t exactly your style but there were a few pairs of jeans that fit you perfectly and you noticed they had a very nice lingerie section.

Feeling confident, you tried on a few pairs. You thought a new pair of lingerie would make both you and Spencer feel excited. You both had been very tense, especially Spencer, and your lack of an intimate life lately wasn’t helping. You immediately bought your favorite three pairs, smiling to yourself at the thought of surprising your wonderful boyfriend.

—

Spencer let you know he would be home around 8 pm. It was around 7:40 and your meal was simmering on the stove, filling the space with delicious aromatics. You had a plate of eclairs you made sitting on the counter as well. You went and changed into a pair of your new lingerie. It was a black matching set with silky bows and delicate lace. You felt very confident in it, admiring yourself in the mirror before throwing on a t-shirt and sweats.

You were plating the meals when you heard his key in the door.

“Hey babe.” He yelled through your home.

You walked into the foyer to welcome him. “Hi love.” You greeted, giving him a hug and a kiss. “How was work?”

“It was rough, I won't lie.” He sighed, taking off his shoes and jacket. “You cooking?” He asked, noticing the aroma in the air.

“Yeah,” You shrugged, “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Oh babe, you don’t have to do anything, just being here is everything I need.”

“You’ve been working so hard though.” You said, leading him into the kitchen. “And I assume you haven’t eaten in a while. Come eat, it’s still hot.”

He sat down with you, enjoying the food you made. This might have been the longest conversation you'd had with him in over a week. You both were laughing and having a great time. You felt incredibly relieved at how the night was going. Your heart felt so full of love. You missed this, you missed being around Spencer.

“Have room for dessert?” You asked, clearing his empty plate.

“You made dessert too?” He asked, a large smile on his face.

“Of course I did.” You brought out the plate of eclairs, explaining the different flavors you had made.

You and Spencer shared a few, watching as he taste tested the baked goods.

“God you are incredible.” He praised. “Everything was delicious, thank you.”

“Of course babe, you deserve it.” You smiled, wiping some whipped cream from the corner of his lip. “You’ve been so tense lately.”

You walked around the table, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him before placing a soft kiss on his neck. “Like really tense, wow.” You remarked, feeling the tension in his back and neck. You began massaging away the knots, smiling when he sighed in relief.

He turned around when you finished, standing and resting his hands on your hips. He moved his hands under your shirt, his eyebrows shooting up when he felt the soft lace. “What's this?” He asked.

“One last little surprise?” You asked, a flirtatious glint in your eye.

“Surprise away.” He said breathlessly.

You grabbed his hand and brought him into your shared bedroom, pushing him to sit in the bed. He sat back, watching you intently.

Facing away from your boyfriend you slowly stripped off your shirt, revealing the top half of the set, allowing your hair to flow down over your shoulders. You slowly turned around, noting the sharp inhale from Spencer.

“Holy shit.” He breathed, his pupils dilating.

“You like it? Wanna see the rest?” You purred.

He nodded eagerly, brushing a hand over his blushing face. You sauntered up to him, biting your lip slightly. “Help me out?” You asked, gesturing for him to untie your sweats and pull them down.

He did as you offered, almost salivating looking at you. He was enamored. You looked so beautiful and sexy he didn’t know what to do. “You are so fucking perfect.” He managed to get out, his mind going fuzzy at the sight of you.

You stepped out of your sweats, doing a playful spin for him. You had barely made it back around to face him before he was on his feet, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You immediately reciprocated, excited by his eagerness.

He ran his hands up and down your sides, groaning at the silk and lace beneath his fingertips. He had been so busy that he hadn’t really noticed the lack in your intimate life and now that you had lit a spark he felt like he was on fire. He couldn’t get enough of you, his hands were everywhere, heating every inch of you.

He pushed you towards the bed, laying you on your back. He disconnected your lips, standing above you. You tried to pull him back into you, missing his touch immediately. “Just let me look at you.” He said, trying to memorize every detail of you with eyes full of lust.

You were laying on your back, your hair splayed out behind you, the soft moonlight accentuating your soft skin and curves. Spencer wasn’t sure he had seen anything more beautiful. You were a work of art, the greatest renaissance painting. He felt so lucky to have you.

You smiled up at him, blushing under his intense gaze. You ran your hand through your hair and down your torso, landing to rest gently on your hip. “Spencer, I need you, please.” You pleaded, your chest rising and falling with each breath.

That was all the encouragement he needed, he quickly removed his shirt, revealing his broad chest. In an instant he was back on top of you, slotting his lips in yours. You ran your hands up and down his chest, tracing the line of hair that trailed down his abdomen before reaching his belt.

With quick and precise fingers you unbuckled the metal, pulling the leather away from the loops in a swift motion. Spencer’s lips left yours, moving across your cheek and down your jaw. You sighed in pleasure as he made his way onto your neck, threading your fingers through his curls that you love so much, pulling on them slightly as he nipped at your pulse point, earning a satisfied groan from him.

He continued his barrage of open mouth kisses down your body, paying extra attention to the areas covered in lace. With one of his hands holding himself above you he circled the other one under you, massaging the plush skin of your thigh and ass.

Strained moans got caught in your throat with each touch you shared. Spencer had kissed down your torso, kneeling on the ground in front of where your hips laid. He hooked his fingers around the lacy bottoms of the lingerie set.

“Wait,” You breathed, stopping Spencer before he could pull the cloth down. “You’re working so hard,” you began pulling him up by his chin and stopping a few inches from your face. “You’re so tense,” You rubbed down his strong shoulders. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

“You’ve already done so much..” Spencer countered, placing a series of lengthening kisses on your lips.

“Sh sh sh,” you shushed, shrugging him off. “I love you Spencer, let me make you feel good.” You persuaded, your eyes sparkling with love and passion. “Let me take all the stress away.”

#spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew/reader #shayne topp #smosh games #smosh #smosh pit #smosh spencer #smosh cast #smosh fanfiction

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warping-realities · 4 days

Text

Beautiful Things

Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.

Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.

That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"

Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.

“Please, staaaayyyy…”

That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.

The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.

“I want you, I need you, oh God…”

But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?

Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.

Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.

“Alois, du bist dumm…”

He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.

But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.

“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.

“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.

“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane

It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”

Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.

Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.

“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”

“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.

“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”

The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.

But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.

“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.

After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.

“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.

“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”

“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.

“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.

“Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”

This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.

Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.

Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.

“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”

“I… what…?”

“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.

“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”

.....

When he got to the dorm for international students after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.

“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.

“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”

“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”

“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”

“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”

“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”

“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”

“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!

“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”

“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”

“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”

Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.

“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”

As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.

“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.

When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.

Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.

“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.

“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.

“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”

“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.

“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.

"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.

...

Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.

“You coming, bro?”

“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”

“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.

.....

While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.

“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”

“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”

“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”

#occam2000 #male tf #mind change #reality change #jockification #mental transformation #corruption #musclegrowth #gay to bi #douchebag tf

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yumiis · 9 months

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｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。 DATING THEM ; ISAAC

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre; fluff/comfort

type; headcanons

read below!

Isaac really likes PDA! When you guys are walking down the street, he'll have an arm around your shoulders or your waist. If it's not that, he's holding your hand. He really likes letting everyone know that you're his, and he just really enjoys being attached to you/being with you.

In turn, him loving PDA means he's even touchier in private. He HAS to be touching you at all times or he'll probably lose his mind. He loves cuddling you, loves holding your hand, playing with your hair, anything to do with YOU.

His runner up love language is words of affirmation. Either said to him or him saying them to you. He loves giving you praise, and he loves being praised. He just finished editing a new video? Please tell him you're proud. Did you just get a promotion at work? He's telling you that you're his number one and that you deserve so much more.

He's not a gift giver, mainly because he sees it as a challenge. Whatever you get him for his birthday, that means he has to one up you for YOUR birthday. If it keeps on, he'll wind up spending thousands of dollars on you, and he will NOT stop himself.

He loves bringing you breakfast in bed, mainly because he stays up all night editing, so he's still awake by the time you get up. He just likes to do it!

Super big cuddler. He will glue himself to you at night, he doesn't care if you're sweaty or not. He'll tell you to take the blanket off before he moves away from you.

Also, kisses are always super sweet, because you have to lift his mask. "Can I give you a kiss?" "Yeah!" You lift his mask, and give him a quick kiss. He smiles, "God I love you."

#alex's writing #isaacwhy #isaac #tgc #isaacwhy x reader #isaacwhy x you #isaacwhy x y/n #isaac x reader #isaac x you #isaac x y/n #tgc x y/n #tgc x you #tgc x reader

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thecapricunt1616 · 2 months

Text

Knock knock 🚪✊- Is anyone out there?! For some reason the bug has only been biting me to write late at night, so I’m sorry I’ve been posting so late lately (lol) but I hope that some lip smutty fluff brightens up your morning! (p.s. ; yes I know there are still 17 asks rotting away in my box. I prooomise I’m getting to them. I’m wanting to do asks how I usually do them, which is giving you an 8-10k plot instead of just what I can write on my phone since I don’t have a laptop at the moment, but I swear im trying to get a new one suuuuper soon!!! I love you all!!)

I’ve been thinking all day, probably since it is Carnival season after all - about how fun it would be to go to a Carnival with Lip over summer break, or even take a roadtrip to Cedar Point together and make a whole week out of it?! Eeee our prince deserves some fun time! I just know he’s the kind that is such a kid at heart, he grew up with so many siblings! He also has Frannie around, so he would totally love stuff like that (more BTC)

(Warnings for BTC: AFAB reader, No physical attributes for reader are described other then r/ has long hair, Smut!!!, No use of Y/N {r/ goes by pet names like baby, sweetheart, honey, etc.}, Fluff {happy lip!!}, Established relationship, College!Lip, sweet older-brother vibes from Lip, vomiting (r throws up cotton candy, it’s not too bad or long though!) , No ‘typical’ Gallagher drama to be found! {giving our mans a break!!} , not heavily edited, sweet/caring BF!Lip) [if I missed any please let me know in the comments!]

So you’d get there probably just as the sun is setting ‘because that’s the most romantic time to go’ he’d teased, in your ear earlier that afternoon between heavy needy kisses that you shared the moment he’d gotten home from work and he tugged you up to his bedroom since the house had been empty, he was going to use that time ever wisely.

He had been talking up this grand fun night together when the Carnival Fair was finally coming to town that weekend. It was going to be a wonderful chance for you and him to get some nice time alone, especially after finishing out your spring semester of school and having the summer off. He’d been working the summer at Patsy’s, so he told you he was gonna have all the money a girl could dream to get cotton candy and funnel cake since you’d gushed about how when you were a kid those were your favorite to get.

He had wrapped his beat up Jean jacket around your shoulders as you walked after he bought your tickets, even though it was nearing the middle of August and during the day summer was in full swing - fall had already begun to creep in at night causing goosebumps to arise on your arms. “Have I ever told you what a gentleman you are, Gallagher?” You kiss his cheek gently and he chuckled, shaking his head a bit

“Takin’ care of you is my job baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, kissing your head gently as you waited in line together to get a big bag of cotton candy to share.

“Well you’re really good at that job- you should give yourself a promotion” you held up your left hand jokingly, wiggling your ring finger and he lets out a chuckle, heat creeping to his cheeks that you couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride in your chest for being the reason of.

“I promise I will promote myself as soon as I can find it in the budget” he mused, lacing your fingers together as you head up to the counter and the guy a few years younger then the two of you asked what he could get for him- and he looked at you “you still want the bag one, yea?” He confirmed.

You looked at lip like he had hung the moon in the sky that night, you usually looked at him that way. How he was so kind, and attentive in the way he loved you. How he yearned to take care of you, he wanted nothing more than to make you happy. He made you the happiest girl in the world just by remembering you told him cotton candy was your favorite fair treat so getting right in line for it with you the moment you got there. Because it was what you liked, what made you happy.

“Yes, thank you baby” you planted a little kiss on his neck, since you couldn’t reach his lips when he wasn’t ducking his head to kiss you as he handled the paying and the conversation. Being taken care of had become routine for you, pampered- loved. That’s how you felt when you were around lip, loved- and seen.

Your next stop after sitting and munching on cotton candy until you nearly gave yourself a tummy ache, causing Lip to have to tie off the rest of the bag yo keep your sneaky fingers from getting in when he wasn’t looking - was the strongman game.

You giggle and point “Babyyyyy! You’re so strong- look at that cute pink unicorn!! I can cuddle it when you’re at work! Pleeeeease Lip, can you win it for me baby? Pretty pleeeease?” You beg sweetly, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and kissing along his jaw to sweeten the deal.

He chuckled a bit, looking at the top rack where said obnoxiously large unicorn was zip tied to the grate, looking down at you before back up at it and sighing a bit to himself “I can win it - but do I particularly wanna carry it around the rest of the night?” He looked down at you again to see your fluttering lashes and pouty bottom lip.

“For your lady? For your bestest girl in the whole world? Pleeeease? You work too much who am I gonna snuggle!” You stand on your tip toes and peck his lips “if I was strong enough to do it myself I would but I need my big strong man to do it for me” you emphasize for added pizazz and he snorts a laugh, patting your ass playfully and giving it a squeeze.

“You are a damn good manipulator” he teased as he dug out his wallet, grabbing a 5 dollar bill that it costed for the three swings “gimme a real kiss- y’know, luck and shit” he puckered his lips, ducking his head and you giggle, happily squeaking as you plant a juicy loving kiss on his lips, your hand finding the back of his neck and stroking gently

“Thank you best boyfriend in the world” you giggle happily and stood to the side as he handed the guy the money

“So uh- what do I need to do f’the horse” he nodded at the pink unicorn with a rainbow tail.

“It’s a unicorn, baby!” You remind and he rolled his eyes playfully

“The fuckin unicorn, then, what do I need t’do” he asked the man running the game booth

“Have to get 100% on one of your 3 tries.” He explained, putting the money in the cash box and Lip nodded

“Easy enough” he picked up the mallet, rolling his shoulders a few times to stretch them out.

“You got this baby!!!” You clap happily and watch as he takes his first swing and the little piece races up and hits 96% causing you to jump up and down happily “Good job baby!!!” You giggled and he smiled at your sweet, encouraging reaction even for something as silly as a carnival game, something he always adored about you is your undying support and encouragement for the people you love. He always felt when you were around that he could just be himself and somehow, that was enough, all on its own.

“Not bad for a first swing ‘eh?” He mused with a playful cockiness and since it wasn’t all too common someone could really get 100% on the thing, a small crowd of 5 or so carnival goers had stopped to see if he was going to get it.

“Not bad at all, I’m already thinking of names for our soon to be adopted unicorn baby” you said and he chuckled a bit, lifting his arms to take his next swing and you couldn’t help but realize how the hem of his black T-shirt rode up when he did, exposing his v-line and happy trail just a bit. You bit your lip gently at the sight, also not missing the sexy little grunt that left his throat when he used all his strength slamming down on the platform with the mallet.

The little knob races up and pangs the bell, announcing that Lip had in fact hit the 100% threshold - breaking you out of your lustful gaze and dirty thoughts that nearly constantly plagued your mind when he was around, the man was walking sex - how could you deny yourself? You gasped and cheered, rushing up to Lip and jumping into a hug “Baby! Oh my god, I love you! I knew you could do it!” You laughed excitedly, kissing him back passionately as he held you safely around his waist, spinning around with you once and chuckling as he set you down, his cheeks slightly pink when he realized there were still a few stragglers hanging about who had watched him win.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t comfortable with PDA, he actually quite loved showing you off, and showing the fact that you loved him off. It made him feel special, wanted. But the two of you had gotten more then just affectionate, you weren’t just the girl of the month that he was screwing to let off steam. He didn’t even realize that the whole ‘love of your life’ thing was real - or possible for someone like him none-the-less.

But as dopey and love sick as it sounded to him in his head, he knew there are absolutely people out there who aren’t loved as proudly as him by someone like you, so any testament of that love and how lucky he was to have it made his chest swell with pride. You were his girlfriend, his lady. Nothing you could ever do would embarrass him.

“Unicorn, right?” The man asked and you nodded excitedly.

“Baby Glitter Gallagher! Isn’t that so cute? Our very first baby together” you giggle as the man handed over the large stuffed toy and you give it a big hug “thaaaank you lip” you said sweetly

“Baby Glitter - so baby is the first name, glitter is her middle name? Or is it baby-glitter like MarySue or some shit?” He asked, causing you to laugh as you walked with him in search of your next adventure to partake in together.

“BabyGlitter is like MarySue, I’m glad we clarified. She’s absolutely a Gallagher, though. So step up or cough up child support is all I’m sayin’” you joked, earning another adorable chuckle from him.

Your next stop was one that Lip had pointed out, so you felt like it was mandated to stop and partake because it was the first thing he had mentioned on his own since you had gotten here; the zipper ride. You had spent the last 10 minutes in line as you waited for the group in front of yours to go, telling him that you could absolutely handle it.

“Gallagher, are you callin’ me a crybaby?” You teased, playfulness edging your tone. “Cause last I checked I can handle myself, even if I like having a sexy man around to protect me” you smiled, kissing his jaw gently. He chuckled at that, shaking his head and holding his left arm around your waist while his other was holding onto your new member of the family, as well as your remaining cotton candy that was deemed a hostage until at least the end of the night.

“I’m not- I’m not!” He holds the cotton candy up in defense jokingly “I’m just sayin I know you don’t like goin’ upside down is all and if I wanna go on the ride I wanna have fun.. when Ian and I used to ride it we’d be flipping the whole way around it was so fuckin fun.” He chuckled a bit at the memory, bringing a happy warmth to your chest. It was rare that the Gallagher kids got to make real, childhood memories together. So that all the more made you want to do this with him, to be a part of his nostalgia and nurture it the way he always made an effort to be a part of yours.

“Well then I wanna have fun! I’m not a baby we’ll be fine, I have you to protect me” you kiss his cheek as you got to the front of the line waiting to be let on the ride. He gives you a gentle peck on the lips before kissing your cheek

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, princess” he said, putting your things he had been holding for you over to the side with the rest of the carnival goers. He helped you up the platform steps, always being sure you never tripped and kept your fingers laced, rubbing the back of your hand gently with his hand as the man unlocked and opened the cage door, a creaky noise coming from it as he does so.

“There’s no-“ you swallow thickly when you realize there was no seatbelts, and lip gave you a ‘told you so’ look, allbeit playful, it only egged on your petulant pride and you shrug. “No seatbelts, makes for more fun, right?” You muse, stepping in and lip got in right next to you, your shoulders and arms pressed up against one another.

“That’s the best part” Lip smirked, holding onto the grip bars when the man clanked the door shut, dropping the lock bar in place and you were suddenly moving. Everything was no longer steady, and it felt as if you were trapped in a fan blade rocking back and forth ready to flip over any which way.

“Lip” you said, concern etching your voice. He was right, Lip usually was right, as annoying as it is for you most days. You didn’t particularly like heights, or being spun in circles, and mixing that with being trapped in a tiny metal cage was bringing those fears right to the surface and you weren’t quite sure what made your ego so big before you got on.

“What baby? You scared?” He teased, playfulness edging his voice. He begins to rock his weight back and forth, the whole cage rattling and clanging as he does so. The hinges seem to creak and you can see in your mind the gruesome terror that would unfold if the cage door just so happened to give out.

“Stop- stop it- it’s broken! Don’t you hear it, Lip? We gotta get off!” you said worriedly and he laughed like a masochistic 7 year old boy, rocking his weight more dramatically until you were fully laying down before swinging the other way and laying on said creaky cage door while you look below at the 50 foot drop and knuckles popped from gripping the grab bars on the cage door so hard

He chuckled more “baby it’s fine it’s not gonna break. Cmon let’s do a flip” he said, throwing all his weight back and you squeal as your suddenly hanging upside down and he laughs loudly “woops! Guess we’re stuck till we start moving” he teases and you whine, feet dangling off the floor of the cage

“Phillip Gallagher you’re the meanest boyfriend in the whole world!” You shout, causing him to laugh and you heard a chuckle from the riders below you at your current misfortune

“I thought I was the nicest boyfriend also the proud father of- what was it-“ he’s cut off as the ride starts again to let more riders on and you flip forward, swinging back and forth dramatically as the cage once again balanced your weight. You seized the opportunity to slap his shoulder once you found your footing

“You could have killed us!” You said but couldn’t help the big smile on your lips.

“Then I guess Baby Glitter Gallagher would have been an orphan before she even made it home” he mused, before giving you a kiss on the lips.

“This is why no more cotton candy babe” Lip said gently as he held your hair back and you puke up bright purple lemonade mixed with your blue and pink cotton candy.

“Yeah- kinda pretty though, right like -“ you pause to gag, more sugary neon purple mess splashing into the unfortunate bush you had decided to victimize tonight after your what felt like hundreds of flips on the zipper ride. “I would totally get my nails this color-“ you sniffle, spitting in the bush to rid your mouth of the slimey after puke feeling before standing and wiping your mouth with the back of your forearm.

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head as he dug around in the pocket of his Jean jacket that sat atop your unicorn for safe keeping and pulling out a small flask “open” he tilted your head back and you scrunch your nose, obeying and opening your mouth. “Sorry- but I know Y’gonna wanna kiss me and I don’t want to taste y’vomit babe, as much as I love you” he dribbled a mouthful of vodka in your mouth and you scrunch your face and whine slightly as you swished it around, gargling a bit for good measure before spitting it into the poor little bush and turning back to him to see he was finishing off the flask while you did so before putting it back in his jacket pocket.

“I think you need some water, and we should sit and relax f’r a second ‘huh?” He rubbed your arm gently before pulling you into a comforting hug and kissing the top of your head. You shut your eyes, enjoying the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with the musky earthy scent of tobacco and weed he’d consumed earlier.

“Yeah- but let’s stay over here. Well, maybe not by puke bush. But where it’s quiet. I know you probably want a smoke” you sat down next to a tree and he joined you, resting your unicorn next to his lap

“This fuckin thing is gonna take up my whole side of the bed” he muttered as he dug out his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket, lighting one between his lips

“Mmm, only when you’re not home. Gimme some” you said sweetly. He looked over, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, gentle kiss as he exhaled the smoke into your mouth and you sucked it down graciously, eyes fluttering shut at the short light feeling it gave your mind since you were only getting half of its effects.

“Better be you know I like doin butt rubs after a day at work” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again, shorter this time because it was inturupted by a giggle from you. He was right, Lip loved to lay in bed in the dark with you, detailing what had went on at work that day while he felt up your ass. It wasn’t strictly sexual, (although a lot of times it ended that way) it was more a…stress toy for him to play with as he went on.

“I love butt rub time. I was actually thinking about that earlier. One of the best times of the day” you wrap your arms around his middle, nuzzling your face in his neck and kissing the warm skin gently as he took another drag.

“Yeah baby?” He kissed your temple gently, squeezing your side and lifting up the helm of your shirt to run his fingers along your bare skin. The action brings goosebumps to your skin, calming but sensual. Your eyes flutter shut at the gentle affections, enjoying the carefree laughter and joyful screams from the carnival a hundred feet or so away, mixing with the gentle quiet sounds of crickets chirping in the woods.

“I love all our time.” You assure him, planting a gentle kiss on his warm broad shoulder.

The next thing you decided to do, after being sure to make a pit stop for ice water and Lip being sure you drank a decent amount - was a calm pretty swing ride. It had a lot of hight to it, but that was mostly so you could get a good view of the city while you swung around at a fast (but not dizzying) pace.

You got in line behind a pregnant mother and her young daughter, who looked to be not much older then Frannie. Smiling to yourself, you thought what it may be like to have kids with Lip some day. You didn’t want that day to be soon, of course. You and Lip had promised eachother that you wanted to finish college. He wanted to make it out of the south side, and while you were a Chicago transplant, you still understood why that was from the stories he told you of their growing up. You wanted to be sure that any family planning would stay far off until you and Lip were both working adult jobs, and had a house or something - when you were real adults.

You hadn’t even realized you’d made it to the front of the line, and were being broken out of your dreamland daze when the little girl stomps her feet “but mommy! We waited all this time! I wanna go on!” She said getting increasingly upset as the ride operator explained that single riders had to be of a certain height

“I know baby but mommy’s belly is too big - I can’t go on it’ll hurt your little sister! I’m sorry, honey. I really am.” The mother tried to explain, and Lip, being the brotherly gentleman he is spoke up.

“Uh- I’ll take ‘er for you, Ma’am - If that’s cool with you- babe are you good on your own?” He asked you and you felt yourself swoon like this was some romance movie and not real life. You nodded with a big smile

“He’s got so many siblings - he’s gonna look after her real well, I’ll sit right behind them!” You gushed and the woman lights up

“Oh gosh- would it be a hassle?” She asked

“Mommyyyy! Please! Pleeeeease!! I’ll listen so good!” She jumped excitedly and the mother looked at Lip before looking back at her.

“Fine- but you better listen! You hear me! Give this nice boy no trouble at all missy” she said, handing her hand over to Lip and she giggled excitedly

“Thank you mister! Thank you sooo much!” She gushed, throwing her arms around his hips and giving him a big hug. You pout at the adorable sight in front of you, following behind to sit in the single seat behind the double they’d be sitting in.

“I’m Marley, I’m 5, what’s your name?” She asked as Lip helped her into the seat before sitting next to her and adjusting the lap bar.

“I’m Lip” he said, causing her to giggle

“That’s a silly name- Lippy lip lip” she repeats as she swings her legs back and forth in that darling childlike way. “Are you a grown up?” She asked him and he chuckled a bit, realizing like when Debbie was little- this carnival ride was going to turn into more of an interrogation then anything else.

“I guess you could say that, yeah.” He said. You watched them with sparkling eyes, a big grin on your face as you saw just how good he was with her. Lip was always good with kids. They took to him because he would usually speak to them how he spoke to other adults (minus as much swearing as he could remember to omit) and that made them feel special, equal. Which is one of the many things he can say he wanted as a kid, and never got. So he did his best to pay it forward.

By the time you’d gotten to the top the wind was louder at the height as you spun so you were no longer able to hear their conversation so clear. You looked at the twinkling lights of Chicago below, trying to see if you could pick out the Gallagher house just by your mental map of the city you’d made in the few years you’d been living here. You did hear though when the girl started giggling wildly, drawing your attention back to them and you saw Lip pretending to be fully limp and dead in the seat next to the girl, tongue hanging out of his mouth and everything.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at his silly antics. Even though he held up a hard exterior a lot of the time, you knew deep down he was a kid at heart which is why they liked him so much. When you got back down and hopped out of your seat, you greet him with a kiss “did he give you too much trouble?” You asked Marley and she giggled, shaking her head.

“No- Thank you, Lippy Lip” she told him giving him another sweet hug. You returned her to her mother and Lip told her they were welcome to Patsy’s for a piece of pie on the house any time which just made your heart swell even more at how generous and kind he was, even to a stranger he just met.

“You are just the sweetest- thank you so much, Sorry what was your name I never caught it-“

“LIP! Lippy lip lip lip!” The girl sings again, gasping when you came over with your large unicorn “She’s so fluffy I’m gonna die!” She squealed, hugging it tight “what’s its name?” She asked you, looking up with a bright sugar rush smile. This kids gonna sleep good tonight

“Uh- Baby Glitter!” You told her and she smiled

“Baby glitter is perfect” she told you and her mother giggled, a bit nervously at all of her energy likely so far past her bedtime.

“Well, Lip- thank you again. We’re gonna have to check out your restaurant! Alright Marley say goodbye to your new friend we have to go home now I said just one more ride” her mother told her and she pouted, handed your unicorn back over.

“Byeee Lip, I had fun playing with you” she gave him one last hug and you felt like your heart could explode with the way he ruffled her hair and pat her back in such a brotherly way.

“You too kid, be good f’y’r mom heard?” He told her and she nods, taking her mom’s hand and they head off into the crowd.

“You’d be a good dad” you said softly, taking his hand and lacing his fingers with yours. He laughed, shaking his head

“She was just a good kid” he counters.

You’d ended up together at the ferris wheel, luckily it wasn’t one that had to be balanced with weight so you could snuggle up to Lip with his jacket wrapped tight around you and legs over his lap. As soon as you got far enough from the ride operator he even pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and resting his head back as he blew the smoke out.

You sat and just watched him, admiring the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed or the way he adorably sniffled once in a while since the poor guy had year round allergies it seemed, and never bothered with Zyrtec or any allergy medicine at all. “You’re pretty” you said softly, chin resting on his pec as you as you watched him.

He chuckled a bit, his cheeks flushing a cute pink. Before you, no one had ever called Lip ‘cute’ - He had been called a plethora of things.

Disobedient, disorderly, rude, loud, obnoxious, violent, a bad influence, a waste of potential -

But pretty? That was something that started (and he told himself very likely ended) with you.

“That’s all you c’mere” he tilted your chin up, giving you a sweet and tender kiss, cupping your cheek with his other hand and stroking his thumb across it. When he pulled from your lips he kissed across your forehead and browbone, down your nose to your cheekbones and then leaving one final lingering kiss on your jaw before having another drag of his cigarette casually. Your heart felt like it was thumping out of your chest, and your belly was swarming with so many butterflies it was as if migration season came early.

But that wasn’t new, it felt like that every day with lip. Ever the gentle, sweet, kind, affectionate man you had yearned for every past boyfriend to be for you. But you figured it was just the universes way of teaching you to appreciate French Vanilla Bean type of love - rich, fulfilling as opposed to the cheap watered down fake chemical crap that comes in a bottle with a squeeze lid.

So many emotions washed over you, gratitude, love, fulfillment, appreciation, but for some reason what won over- was lust. You weren’t quite sure where it came from, but by the time you had stopped at the top, you were in the depths of a passionate, heated makeout session - cigarette long crushed out.

The smoke scent clung to his palms that cradled your cheeks as if you were a fine porcelain doll to be cherished and gently caressed. He hummed softly, disconnecting your lips and soft puffs of breath fanning over your spit-slick lips as his mind short circuited a moment due to your hand trailing down and popping the button of his jeans, and pulling him free of his boxers and pants.

“You sure?” He asked carefully, hands trailing to your shoulders and squeezing them gently as if to silently tell you it was ok if you just got too caught up in the lust of it all. Lip Gallagher - ever the gentleman. In response you gently stroke over him, using the pre that had started to leak out of his hardening pink tip to give yourself some lubricating before reconnecting your lips once more, opening your mouth for him.

A small whine escaped your throat when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, his hips rutting up into your hand subconsciously. His stomach muscles flex under your touch as you slightly tighten your grasp, twisting your hand with each return pass.

Such actions was causing him to lose all resolve. He panted softly into your mouth, licking and sucking your tongue, breaking to grunt softly at the feeling of his dick trying to twitch at the delicious stimulation you provided but being unable to due to the literal grip you had on him.

“Doin’ so good- so fuckin good baby - god. Jesus fuckin Christ. Such a good girl f’me, huh?” He praised, giving you more sloppy kisses to be sure no moans escaped his throat and if they did would be muffled most of the way by your mouth.

You hummed at the praise tilting your head down and letting a glob of spit fall into your hand, using it as added slick to pump your hand faster and he bit his lip, nose scrunching adorably as he tried to hold himself back. “You gonna cum? Mm? Wanna cum in my hand baby?” You said in the shell of his ear hotly before taking the lobe between your teeth, slowing your strokes and rubbing over his sensitive leaky tip with the silky soft pad of your tongue.

The action made his jaw fall slack, head resting over the ledge of the ride and as you started moving again you quickened your pace realizing you were on your decent back to the bottom. “Yeah? Er you want me to swallow it? Hmm? Get on my knees for you-“ you goad, egging on his release.

He looks at you and nodded fervently, rendered speechless by the actions of your hand causing you giggle a bit- getting on your knees and out of sheer routine Lip gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail and watched as you took him into your mouth, giving his tip sensual little kitten lips and tapping his cock against your tongue making soft wet thudding noises only to be heard by the two of you.

“So fuckin filthy- huh? So eager to have a mouthful’a cum with all these people around?” He eases your head down and you let your jaw fall more slack, swirling and slurping your tongue around him how you’d learned drives him wild.

It wasn’t long of lewd slurping and soft moans of enjoyment coming from you as you continued to get him off, before you felt it.

Success.

You braced yourself as he began using your hair to roughly fuck your face, panting softly as he worked himself through his high. “Jeeeesus - good fuckin’ girl, yeah? That’s my good fuckin girl- my girl” He rambled on as he worked himself through his high. You swirl and slurp around him, swallowing down all you could before he pulled you off

“So fuckin pretty with a mouth full’a’cum, how’s that possible?” He pats your cheek lovingly as you opened your mouth to show the stringy sticky white mess he left. You shrugged a bit, smiling friskely and swallowing, making a show of licking your lips off and he grabbed your jaw, collecting the mix of saliva and cum on your chin with the pad of this thumb before sticking it in your mouth

“Clean it up” he ordered and in turn you sucked the digit clean obediently. “Good girl, now come act decent in front’a’these people, yeah?” He tapped your cheek lightly and fixed his jeans and boxers as you come and plop back down next to him, licking your swollen lips that were adorned with a satisfied smirk as you completed your decent to the bottom

“Mmmm- oh my god literally the trip here was worth it just for this it’s the best” you hum softly, taking another bite of funnel cake from between Lips fingers when he put it to your mouth.

“Can’t lie it’s pretty fuckin good” he said, popping another piece in his mouth.

“Can you believe there are sinners in the world that put marinara sauce on this?!” You said and Lip starts laughing, shaking his head. “What? What!! It’s gross, you like it?” You asked not sure what was so funny

“Baby- babe” he coughs a bit, trying to catch his breath “oh god- y’fuckin kill me, kid. That’s fried dough, people do that with- you’re right, someone would be a fucking psychopath if they put marinara sauce on their cake” he said and you started laughing as well, shaking your head at your own confusion

“I love you” you said, leaning over and kissing his cheek. He blushed a bit, turning his face and giving you a real kiss. A kiss that tasted like tobacco and powdered sugar, and sticky sweet love.

“I love you, baby” he said in that soft low way you loved.

From that year on, the Carnival was a yearly date for the two of you.

A/N: EEE! My longest Lip fic to date!!! I hope you enjoyed, if you did please be sure to like / reblog to let me know ❤️ as always, (kind) critiques & feedback are always SO appreciated! Ilyilyilyyy all!!!

D/C: @carmybrainworms - Wormy stayed up until the wee hours of the morning last night beta reading this for me, Wormy 🪱, thank you for tasting my potatoes so many times!!! I love you down bbg

@mouseymilkovich - Mousey Mouse 🐁! Thank you so much for all your encouragement in writing Lip & inspiring me to do so! I love you so much ❤️

@carmenberzattosgf - My sweetest Martini 🍸, thank you for always lifting me up on hard days, supporting my work, being an all around kick ass friend, and feeding the fandom with your amazing Carmy goodness while I’ve been on this Lip kick! Smooches for days for you (you already know that💋💋💋)

& finally, @daysofyellowroses - my lovely flower 🌼, welcome back to the app baby!!! We missed you so much, even though we’ve been talking BTS, I am happy to see the writing bug has paid you a visit (a very good one that Kerry fic still has me sweating)

#capri writes: Lip ❤️#lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher fluff #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher angst #lip Gallagher fic #phillip gallagher

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