jealous lip……lip hears that you got a date with some dude that's taller than him, hotter than him, probably more mentally stable than him. and lip is tearing him apart. "heard he's got stds, probably don't wanna fuck him." "he's a cheater." "just hang out with me tonight." "y'know he's a player?" "he's no good for you, he's fuckin' ugly-"
and he persists and persists until he either pisses you off or gets in your head enough to change your mind. or even threatens your date to ghost you. and he feels a little bad, seeing your little pout and how "i dunno, i thought maybe someone finally liked me this time" and he's biting his tongue, genuinely clawing at the walls at the admission, thinking no one could love you when he's right there
he takes your mind off it, casually sitting too close to you as you watch a movie, encouraging you to maybe let him hold you a bit. or maybe take your mind off it in a different way, sitting you on his cock and fighting the urge to cum too soon because this is all he's fantasized about, his best friend bouncing on his dick, whining his name so prettily. and he's fighting the urge to tell you that this isn't casual, that he loves you and wants you so badly -🌟
oh, yeah, he absolutely tries to talk you out of it. because a date? with someone that's not him? what the fuck are you even thinking right now?
he tells the fucker to back the hell off whenever you don't change your mind and persist about going out with him anyway. lip recruits the help of mickey and ian to scare him shitless (more so mickey who's game for it as long as he gets a case of beer and ian begrudgingly tags along because his brother's infatuation with you is not lost on him for a second).
lip is more than happy when you tell him the news one day after walking you home from work. you're disappointed, teary-eyed, and he regrets it as soon as the first thick bead of salt rolls down your cheek. he hates when you cry. he hates it so much. it makes him nervous. his smirk disappears, an arm looping around your shoulders.
"come on, brat, don't make it such a big deal. guy's a piece of shit. i told you that."
"i know," you say through a shaky voice, breaking his fucking heart. "i just thought..."
"... thought what?"
"i thought that... fuck," you sniffle, "i thought someone actually liked me for once."
you poor thing. he feels so guilty. he wants to tell you how untrue that is. this isn't the first asshole he's told to get away from you and it won't be the last. lip is selfish. he wants to keep you all to himself and the confession of his feelings rests on his vocal chords. only, it never comes out. he just tucks you into his side like a coward, comforts you knowing he's the reason your pretty face is shedding tear after tear.
you want to lie back in bed. he suggests taking you out for food or maybe a long walk, but you refuse. so, he turns a movie on, one he knows you'd like, some chick flick that you usually have to beg him to watch. but you're barely paying attention.
as he leans into your frame, he finally leans his forehead into your shoulder defeated.
"what can i do? i don't like seeing you so sad... talk to me."
"lip, i wanna forget about it, okay? don't bring it up."
he bites back a frigid reply. you're hurting. it's his fault, and you don't even know it, so he feels like he owes you it.
"fine," he mumbles, sitting up, tugging on his sweatpants.
"w-what're you doing?" you ask as you sit up yourself, blinking in deep confusion as he starts to reach for your sleep shorts.
"helping you forget. want me to stop?"
lip's hands curl into your waistband. his heart is racing so fast right now he's positive it's about to hurl up his throat. when your head shakes no, he finds himself so relieved.
it's what led you to this. the notebook playing in the background, long forgotten as lip watches you ride him, his name falling off your mouth over and over again, taking your pleasure from him.
he's dreamt of this. imagined it a million and one times. it's so much better than any of his daydreams, than any of his hopes and wishes. he revels in it, pets your hips, bucks up into you because fuck, you grip his cock tighter when he strikes that spot deep inside of you. he targets it, a man possessed as he fucks you, his fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave behind bruises.
you moan regardless, hands falling onto his chest. god, he needs this. he's always needed it. it's nirvana. every clench and whine, it's so perfect. he's so close, but he holds off to make this last, to fix his errors, bites his bottom lip because all he wants to do right now is tell you how much he fucking loves you.
he stops himself, flipping the two of you over, taking over with heavy thrusts. lip prevents himself from muttering his affection, biting against your neck, groaning whenever he feels your release soak him.
"need this cock, brat? can you take more for me?" he leans up, and then he realizes you're crying again. but tears of pleasure and overstimulation, his cock twitching inside of you whenever you nod your head frantically.
he's going to fuck you all night into the morning... to help you forget, of course...
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