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#personally this is too insane to even offend me
catcze · 7 months
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Oh man the brain is not in a good place rn ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️
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readymades2002 · 1 month
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it is very frustrating because my mom does not know What The Deal Is but she certainly Suspects (for good reason. to be fair to her.) and she has Insinuated and she has Implied but she has not asked anything specifically. and its...not unreasonable for her to do this i guess because the last relationship i was in i didn't tell her for a year and a half. because the relationship BEFORE that was my first and it was with a girl and i asked her EXPLICITLY AND URGENTLY to not tell my dad about it because he was a massive homophobe and i knew this and saw this where she did not and she told him anyway and i have not trusted her since though, having few other options, i have continued to confide in her things that i should not confide in her that have then mysteriously made their way through all our shared coworkers back to me. and its.....its so. i don't know what to do about it. she..."stalked" is the wrong word but she followed my blog against my wishes and knowledge as a child and the more i lost trust in her and stopped talking to her the more she pried into my private life. i know my sister had similar experiences with her. and it has created this cycle where i keep trying to keep her out for my own privacy and dignity and safety and she just gets even more desperate and pathetic trying to get in after breaking my trust over and over and OVER again but i live with her and depend on her for far too many things and so it just. is this. awesomesauce
#have talked about it a bit with a few people and its...difficult?#i have always felt like i was the person standing between my parents when my dad was at his worst#and as kind of like. someone who failed to protect my family from him#and the last few months ive started recognizing patterns where 1) when my parents were united#was when there was a common threat and that common threat was ALWAYS me and my insanity. which feels. bad#and 2) my mother had no one to talk to about the horrific shit he said and so often ended up relaying#some of the worst things youve ever heard to me and my sister very conversationally#every thing he said about me that haunts me i heard when she told me and then went 'ha! isnt that so stupid he would say that?'#like. i guess its. she was a...i hate using it here but a Victim in thatsituation but im also starting to learn#that she was also a collaborator. and that she failed to protect us or take care of us often because she was scared of him#or sometimes because she agreed with him or hated/resented us or whatever. its. um#it is difficult. and every time i try to change and talk openly around her instead of being passive aggressive as i learned from her#she responds in the same guilt trippy icy way and says i am pissy or i think too black and white or do i think shes a bad person#and so i cannot...i cannot grow with her because it HURTS. every time. and ive just kind of...found it harder and harder to talk to her#at all. and her pain fills the apartment because she sees it happening. and it makes coming back here every day#even more unbearable even more crushing and i don't know what to do about it#it has been so weird. ive been trying to...change and grow. to be Real. to be truthful and to communicate well#for my friends and coworkers and family and i feel i've come so far sometimes#and then when it comes to her i just don't know how to do it because i don't trust her.#and when i try it only hurts both of us and i can't explain that to her because she WILL take it personally and she#she...everyone is capable of change. i believe that. to be alive is constant changing. but she refuses.#when she asked me if i thought she was a bad person she answered her own question going 'i dont think so.#i think you see things so much more black and white than i do and you're so easily offended and sensitive. i think im a good person'#not in a...not in a combative way but in a sincere way. and its like. i dont think i even responded i was fucking flabbergasted#where do you even GO from a statement like that lmao!!! god. its so frustrating. it is so so so fucking frustrating
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moongreenlight · 7 months
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A little drunk and a lot horny and a lot obsessing over dad!Simon right now.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
He for sure calls you mama when he’s fucking you. Hand clamped over your mouth because the baby’s asleep in the next room. Folding you over the side of the bed because it drives him insane to see how good you are with his babies. Rutting into you from behind, laid flat over your back. Hot and sweaty and growling into your ear. Nipping at the skin of your neck and shoulder. Wherever he can reach.
“Takin’ me so good, mama.”
Bet he shoves a few fingers in your mouth for a few seconds so you can drool around them before he slides it down between your legs to rub your swollen clit because even after years together he still forces you to come at least twice before he’ll start to consider fucking you. Get you nice and sloppy and pliable for him. And after your first kid he ALWAYS comes inside you. Obsessed.
His thrusts stuttering and him biting down on your neck when he finally reaches that point, fingers still working your clit tirelessly. Pushing both of you down into the bed so any noise is muffled. Bottoming out inside you so deep that you’re almost positive he’s trying to lay his seed directly in your womb.
Gets personally offended when he pulls out and his cum runs down your thighs. Immediately falling to his knees and shoving it back inside with his fingers. Pumping it back into you for another few minutes to make sure not a drop is wasted.
“Stretch you out too much, bird?“
He’s sooooo mean :( probably slaps your pussy a few times while he’s still fingering you. And you’re so spent that all you can do is bite down on the comforter :((
“Thought you wanted a big family. Thought you wanted to be a mama. Do your job.”
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frmisnow · 2 months
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✧˖ ?!— TWO WHORES IN A ROOM, THEY MIGHT KISS. - (SUGGSTV.)
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— ‧₊˚ — 🎸: "punch me in the gut, might be the only chance you'd ever have at wrecking my insides ??"
summary. having a lil punching sesh with the arrogant man-whore you oh so despised was not an easy game but def. a fun one at that !
notes. i don't know boxing like thattt so if this sounds a lil stupid i'm sry 😭😭 anyways boxer jk???? SJSPAAKMP
warnings/includes. (MDNI) non idol! jungkook x f! reader, hate fuck if you squint, enemies to lovers??? kinda, DEGRADING from both sides, slut, whore + man-whore mentioned, grinding
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you don't know how long you've been circling around eachother, throwing insults left and right - yet nobody had landed the first punch yet. "you know for a man who keeps on yapping about being the best boxer in this shitplace, you're pretty damn scared of me" your eyes never leaving his, box gloves so tight around your hands, your tone sweet in that mocking tone, "you know you've got a pretty big mouth for somebody who claims they're not a slut" he responded no chalently as you didn't even shiver or visably reacted to the insult.
"you sound like you'd die to feel my precious mouth on you" you pouted sarcastically, the circle continuing once again.
"is that a threat or an invitation?" another one-liner fired back, your eyes narrowing - he may look serious but you know he's enjoying every second of this.
and right then and there- in the second he was waiting for you to reply, unfocused for just a split second you throw the first punch.
you immediately bring your fist back, landing a decent hook across his jaw. his head is forced back and eyes widened as he's obviously surprised, though he doesn't react much to the hit. he seems to quickly regain his composure and his eyes narrow sharply, a grin sneaking it's way onto his face: "well what do you know, the pussycat can fight"
it frustrated you that he wasn't fighting back - like you weren't deserving of a punch or two in the first place, like all you were deserving of were little mind games to rile you up but if he could play the game, you could too.
"no fucking shit, i've won more this year then you could dream of, you're just a man whore who thinks having abs and chicks on your dick are personality traits"
his eyes widen just a tiny bit and for a split second you feel you can see actual anger in him, before it's quickly replaced with a sly smirk as he's trying to play cool. he steps forward, getting so close and in your personal space to look taller on purpose, to tower you- to make you look weak, smaller, inferior to him - looking down at you, leaning in even closer and staring right into your eyes.
"you're a lot more fun when you're pissed off you know that?" he looks down a bit more and raises his eyebrows suggestively, "i just have to find the right buttons to press on you"
you're unaffected on the outside, he hasn't even reached any territory that could actually hurt your feelings - "you awfully sound like your talking about my tits, even in your mind there's an image of me permanently printed in, you can't stop thinking of me- you might need to get that chronical sexual obssesion checked at a doctor, that unhealthly ego might as well too"
jungkooks jaw tightens as you can see he's biting his tongue, trying to not react to your insult. looking down again, not saying anything for few seconds as he's processing the response. you can see him trying to not smirk in the corner of his mouth as he's trying to find an insult to answer back-
you took just the time: "huh? did that hurt? does the little pussyeater-for-a-living feel offended? do i need to bring you back to your mommy?" in a whiny tone like you're mimicking him yet still so insanely mocking.
kook tried his very best to sound calm and unbothered but his neck veins were already visable, a little frown on his face as well, ""i think i'm starting to actually get irritated"
"what? like it's hard?" you held eye contact with him without a problem, tension oh so heavy then adding, "c'mon punch me in the gut, might be the only chance you'd ever have at wrecking my insides"
he gets even closer, so close that his forehead is touching yours, still making that suggestive smirk as you see his jaw is clenched so tight. "i'd love to beat that pretty face of yours," he utters at last.
"oh but then there'd be no face for the men to kiss, is that what you want- oh, is our little kook jealous?"
his voice gets raspy and low, "jealous?" eyes remaining on yours ´, not breaking away even just once till he whispers (though there weren't even any people in the training room you both were in) like he was talking personally to you, he was trying to get under your skin: "you think a pathetic little whore like you would make me jealous?"
you're not hurt- not at all, i mean- if you were a slut, he was just the same. jungkook just had to little of reflecting skills or general understanding to coprehend just that- you punched him onto his stomach, him now stumbling just a bit now on more of a distance from you.
you can see he's struggling to not fall down from the impact of the blow. he clutches his abdomen, looking away from you to not let you see just how effective it wasbafter his lungs get the chance to refill with oxygen, he utters words with more passion than before, trying to mask the pain, "pathetic little whore, i thought you were better than this. but i guess you should stick to the dick, you can't fight like a man"
you roll your eyes at his tiny tries of regaining control: "your jaw that i punched just a few minutes ago says something else, c'mon knock me down- i bet you'd love to just be on top of me yet you're to afraid to even just fight and that's what i call pathetic"
that's where you reached his ego's final straw, lunging forward in rage knocking you down in a turn of events and pinning you to the ground, trying his absolute best to hold you down.
he's basically sitting on your body middle, straddling you in a way, you grinned like you weren't even afraid of him on top or you on the ground obviously you could feel his cock pressing hard against you "oh you got such a boner it's funny"
you saw him play with his left lip ring just how he always did when he was particulary focused, responding: "oh don't act so high and mighty, i bet you ruined your damn panties by now"
now you were the one silent, you truly didn't knew what to respond as.. he was right, fuck- maybe this turned you on more than you thought.
seeming a bit amused by that, his smirk becoming a cocky grin as he starts speaking again, in even more suggestive tone, "what's wrong, little slut? you're not even denying it"
he grinded onto you just a little, just so little against your core that it brought just the tiniest bit of pleasure but left you yearning for more, faster, harder leaving you to put your hands onto his hips, hands looking relatively small on his body.
he looks at you from his position, a mischievous smile on his lips as he moves his hips some more in a slow, grinding motion, while blabbering on and on, "not even i thought it was gonna be so easy to top you"
he tried his best to hide a moan by laughing that only half-working, hips continuing to grind onto you, bringing his lips to your neck, mumbling against the soft skin:
"i won"
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angxlofvenus · 10 months
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Hii! I saw your requests were open and I thought I'd give you a hc/fic idea:
The brothers (or whoever you'd like to write for) reacting to Mc using their shampoo/ soap in the shower for whatever reason ^^
I hope this makes sense to you lol, anyways I hope you're having a wonderful day/night, don't push yourself too hard, and drink water!! You can also take any creative liberties you seem fit, or if you decide you don't want to write it I won't be offended ^^
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Thank you so much for the request!! This is absolutely adorable, I hope everything is to your liking, Have a great rest of your day/night !! Genre: fluff Ship: Reader x brothers + Diavolo (individual headcanons) TW: clingy demons, minimal cussing, no use of readers' pronouns, second-person pov
When You Use Their Shampoo
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Stepping into the shower, You were greeted with the nice hot/cool water raining from above, Going to start your routine, You reached for your shampoo bottle only to find it empty! Looking around you spotted his shampoo and conditioner, surely he wouldn’t mind… right?
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Lucifer
100% smells it on you no matter how little you used
Won’t tease you in public but as soon as ya’ll are alone? Ho ho, he’ll never shut up about it
Smug, the definition of smug
You had to go and inflate the ego of The Lord of Pride even more
Very possessive afterwards
Congrats, You know have a scary guard dog demon!
Mammon
He probably wouldn’t even really notice at first
He’d probably compliment how good you smell, Then would slowly realize…
Great, Now he's yelling gibberish while his face slowly gets redder and redder
“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, don’t do that to me!” But will become very clingy
If you say his shampoo smells good, he may lose his mind.
“Well of course ya wanted to smell Like the great Mammon!” 
Levi
Poor awkward nerd
He never saw this coming
I think he would realize you used his shampoo but won’t say anything
Flustered to the max
You have broken him
Levi.404 has stopped working, please reset.
After like the third day, You’re gonna have to bring it up
Secretly really likes it, Won’t tell you that though
Satan
I think he is very picky about scents so he knows as soon as you walk into the room
A little bit of a tease, asking if you were trying out a new shampoo
Smug 2.0 
He would tease you a little bit around the others but not bad
He would flood you with compliments, You using his shampoo would make him very lovey-dovey
Expect him to ask for ya’ll to just use the same stuff from now on
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Asmo
Oh honey, he knows.
He knew before you even got out of the shower.
But that doesn't mean he's any less excited!
Better plug your ears because he will let out the loudest squeal known to mankind
Seriously, Lucifer may come and check on ya’ll helicopter mom
Asks what you do and don’t like about it
He just wants you to feel as fantastic as he does when using it
Everyone will know you used his shampoo, He brings it up in every conversation
Would also 100% ask you to use his bath products 24/7
Beel
Now Beel has never been really into insane products like Asmo or Luci
So he may not really recognize it at first
If you decide to tell him, This man will become a happy demon puddle
He’ll give you a big smile and tell you you’re free to use any of his stuff at anytime
We don’t deserve Beel
Will bury his face into your hair and just stay there
Takes you out to Hell’s kitchen that night just because he loves you so much
Belphie
Oh this little shit
Tease! He won’t quit bragging!!
Smug 3.0
Such a brat about it too, He won’t let anybody near you, Well of course he’d let Beel, but who wouldn't?
He has practically locked you up in the attic with him
Why go outside when ya’ll can cuddle? 
Diavolo
Has really expensive products 
He may even have a custom scent
If so, He’ll know instantly that you’ve used his shampoo
He’ll bring it up with a large grin on his face
When you confirm his suspicions, he’ll just laugh
He’s so happy ya’ll are close enough to share things like that, You have no idea!
He may make a sly comment to Barbatos or Lucifer just because he’s a little possessive
Will follow you around like a lost puppy, Now Barbatos is mad at you because even less of his work is done
He can’t help it! He just loves you!
Will be the third on my list to offer ya’ll to just share bath products
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sim0nril3y · 5 months
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Handy Man
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon begins to notice that some things around your flat are a little worse for wear, so he makes it his job to fix them. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, smut, p in v, very little foreplay, dirty talk, praise, cumplay, creampie, canon-typical swearing.
The sound of sizzling frying in the pan seemed to become background noise around your idle chatter, using a spatula to move and flip it around the pan whilst you spoke. “… and she was telling me…” Even your incessant talking became background noise instead all that Simon could focus on was that sound of the drip, drip, drip of the tap. His eyes focusing on it like it was a target he needed to eliminate. Drip, drip, drip it mocked him again and his fingers tightened on the mug in his grip.
Did you not hear that? Did it not drive you fucking insane? Simon’s eyes flickered over to where you stood with your back to him, continuing to natter mindlessly. “… I was thinking that she had to be joking…” Then you laughed whilst drip, drip, drip consumed his attention again. “… there was no bloody way…” It didn’t faze you at all. No, you simply kept your attention on the bacon in the pan that was swiftly becoming burned. “… Oh, and then-”
“Love.” His voice was tight and stern as you glanced over your shoulder at him, eyes bright and inviting, reminding him that you didn’t think like he did, you didn’t obsess over the tiny details and that was something he loved about you. “You, uh… you got any tools 'round here?” He asked, standing in a moment to approach the offending tap, observing it, moving it, turning it on and off a couple times. “Tools?” You quizzed before frowning heavily, moving the bacon aside and switching off the hob. “Oh.” The opening a stiff looking drawer to produce the oldest looking screwdriver he’d ever seen. “I have this…” Announcing like some accomplishment.
Under his breath he muttered. “Fuckin’ hell.” Holding the tool in hand, gripping the handle hard before throwing it aside uselessly. “Stop fussing.” Your voice announced then, placing down a plate that held freshly made bacon sandwich where he had originally been sitting. “Whatever you’re obsessing about…” You took a hearty bite of your own sandwich. “It can wait…” Another bite. “Until you’ve eaten…” Then licking your fingers as you grabbed the condiments from the fridge and held it out to him. “Red or brown?”
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Simon’s shower had been everything but relaxing. The water had been cold for far longer than he had appreciated and directly above him the light flickered so horrendously that for a moment Simon could have convinced himself he was at a rave. “Light is flickering in your bathroom.” Simon announced, towel wrapped around his waist as he stepped into the lounge to find you. “What’s that?” You quizzed from where you stood observing a canvas, then turning to him. “The light. In the bathroom. It’s flickering.” He reiterated in a low voice whilst your eyes were lingering on his broad chest, watching the water trickle down his skin. “Oi. Pay attention.” Simon bit out playfully.
Snapping you from your trance a low hum came from your throat. “The… light…” Then out made a small noise of recognition. “It’s actually always done that.” The statement followed a careless shrug as you turned your back to him to regain focus on your painting. “You told your landlord?” He asked with concern. “Uh, yeah…” The response was quick and Simon knew you too well. “Think I’ve mentioned it before. Said he tried to fix it but it was some bigger wiring problem, or something…” Another shrugged and it bothered Simon significantly.
He had a problem with you living in a place like this. It wasn’t a good area to begin to live in. Outside teenagers screamed and caused mayhem all night, idiots drove cars around too fast and noisy at night and others got up to shady things away from prying eyes. Too many times Simon had left your flat to find never seen before dents in his car or a bunch of teenagers loitering around it. It didn't scare him but he didn’t like the thought of them playing the same tricks on you.
Besides all that, the flat just wasn’t up to standard for you. It was tiny and cluttered and half of it didn’t work or was in the process of falling apart, all that on top of knowing that you rent was way too high for what you were getting. Simon knew he needed to fix this.
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That evening a frown pressed to his lips as he walked into the bedroom with a couple glasses of water. Placing one down beside you he pressed a kiss to your hairline. Then moving to the other side of the bed Simon stopped by the radiator. His hand reaching out to touch it as he frowned. The heating was on full blast everywhere else, so why wasn’t this one hot at all? He removed his hand and touched a different part and his frown intensified. “This rad isn’t working…” He mentioned as you glanced up from where you were rubbing a sweet smelling moisturiser into your legs, as if you could be anymore soft and supple, Simon lamented internally. “Isn’t it?” “You didn’t know? Babe, it’s stone bloody cold.” Then pressing his hand to it again, as if he might have gotten it wrong, but it remained completely unchanged beneath his fingers. “I know that must bother you ‘cause you’re constantly putting your cold feet on me.”
A delicate laugh fell from your lips. “Well, what’s the point of having a warm, strong body beside me if I don’t utilise it?” You jested causing Simon to scowl. “Wind your neck in.” He muttered, before trying to fight the smirk that pulled onto his face. Once again, his eyes focused on the radiator, as if his new targed. Simon mentioned. “Probably needs to be bled. S’not hard. It’s something you should learn to do…”
You simply nodded, continuing your night-time routine that he actually enjoyed watching, by the end you smelt absolutely delicious and he was more than happy to eat you. “Y’know, there isn’t much that works in this flat, babe.” He said then, moving to lay down on the bed beside you, leaning on his side in your direction. “That oven is dodgy. Every tap leaks. Lights flicker. Rads aren’t working….” Then he frowned again, reaching out to rub your knee. “These are things your landlord should be sorting…” For a moment you were quiet and then looked at him with a genuine smile. “I really hadn’t noticed, Si. I think I’ve just gotten used to it.”
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It may have been something that you’ve gotten used to, but it certainly wasn’t something that Simon was going to allow. By the time that you woke up the next morning to your dismay Simon was gone from your side. Instead of worrying yourself too much you started your day and decided to put some more work into the canvas that you were obsessing over. Maybe some green? Or… maybe some blue… that would be a nice bit of contrast… what story were you trying to tell with this piece?
A knock interrupted you, placing down your brush and then wandering to open the door and smiling as Simon stood there, toolbox in hand. Your eyes trailed over his frame, looking as handsome as ever and very handy too. “Oh, you here to check my pipes?” You cooed flirtatiously causing Simon to chuckle as he stepped inside, kissing your forehead and muttering. “I think you mean clean your pipes, love…” He corrected you. “I’ll do that later if you’re a good girl and let me work.”
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You allowed him as much time to work as you could manage, but as you found him working under your sink, tight dark coloured shirt riding up to reveal the trail of short hair leading down it seemed impossible to resist. “My-my…” You whimpered, your voice quaint and lewd as you sauntered a little further into the kitchen. “That is an awful big hammer you have there~” You purred in a breathy tone. “Maybe I could hold it for you~” “Fuckin’ hell…” Even without seeing him you could hear the smile on his face. “You’re bloody insatiable, love.” Sliding out from the cupboard to look at you standing there, shifting from one foot to the other as if waiting for his command. “Fuck, c’mon then…” He mentioned, lifting his hips off the worn tiled floors and shifting his jeans and underwear down to his upper thighs, cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. “Hurry up.”
Hastily you moved to straddle his thighs, rubbing your clit in tight circles and humming as you warmed yourself up, stroking his cock languidly with your free hand. His eyes rolled back for a second, lower lip gripped between his teeth. “C’mon, baby…” Large hand spanked your hear and a moment later you were lowering yourself onto his hard member, gasping at the way it intruded and stretched your slightly underprepared walls, pressing your hands hard to the wide expanse of his chest as you happily bounced your hips. “Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. Quicker now.”
The look on your face was completely enchanted with lust and love, unable to form even the most basic of sentence. All you could manage was huffing and puffing, bouncing yourself with an unsteady rhythm. “C’mon, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” Simon grit his teeth, plating his feet on the ground and resisting the urge to begin to fuck up into your relentlessly, if you wanted this then you were gonna work for every fucking second of it. “Go on. Ruin that perfect little cunt on me…” His hands cupping and caressing your hips, feeling the way they faltered and sort his guidance.
In your defence, it was difficult to concentrate on keeping a rhymth with the way your thighs were burning, Simon had a way of keeping you his pillow princess, so times when he made you work for it felt extra hard. Not to mention, the way his cock split you open was mind-numbing, each time you sunk down his cock would press firmly against your special spots before bumping firmly against your cervix, kissing it before sliding back and promising to meet it again mere seconds later.
“S-Simon~” You cried softly, feeling your thighs cramping and pressing your hands firmly into his chest before your desperate eyes found his own. “Simon, please~” The sound was nothing more than a whimper, but it was enough for him to take mercy on your poor worn body. Beginning to thrust up firmly into your tight cunt, locking you into place with a firm hold on your hips. This produced loud gasps and moans beginning to tumble from between your lips, instead of planting your hands into his chest, now your desperately curled his shirt between your fingers. “Ohfuck. Ohfuck.” You cried helplessly.
“C’mon pretty girl.” He muttered coolly, fucking up into you without stopping or pausing, finding lasting stamina that were thankful that he had. “C’mon, get yourself there. You know how. Show me.” He pressed, watching the way your fingers slipped down and began to rub your clit in tight circles, whimpering, leaning forward, panting and then finally. “Simon~” That beautiful noise. Oh, he if he could play it on repeat in his head he fucking would. It was like a fucking lullaby that would coax him into a peaceful sleep everynight.
The way your body convulsed and locked up above his own, Simon observed with adoration, taking in the way your eyes rolled just slightly before sealing closed, mouth popping open, tongue sometimes bit between your teeth, nose scrunching, chest thrumming. It was fucking beautiful. Every second. He wanted to enjoy it over and over, but the way that you tight walls strangled his cock caused him to splutter out a low noise and then begin to shoot his thick load inside whilst your walls milked him for every pump.
There you leant into his body, breathing hard and both completely spent. It was bliss. All his worries had disappeared, the sound of that dripping sink was gone and instead replaced with your adorable whines as you slowly regained composure, smiling down at him so sweetly and carefully sliding from his length and sitting beside him.
For a moment he lay there, his body almost numb and then reaching over to pull your thigh aside and watching the way his cum seeped from your spent walls, convulsing weakly as it dribbled to the floor. “Beautiful.” He commented, closing his eyes for another second and committing that image to memory. “That’ll be me through the rest of this…” Simon mentioned, reopening his eyes and gazing at your cunt one final then and then tucking himself away. “Go on. Off you go. I got work to do.” Climbing back under the sink and resuming his handy work as if he hadn’t just destroyed your sweet cunt.
“Yes, sir~” You cooed, carefully climbing back to your feet and lingering in the doorway. Still sensing your presence Simon spoke without looking. “Thought I told you to bugger off.” Listening to you giggle in response. “Just give me a minute, I’m trying to think of another porny handy man line to use on you…”
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Masterlist | Ask | 16-11-2023
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saksukei · 7 months
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simon ‘ghost’ riley and his love languages
masterlist | i think i may have wrote too much??
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there’s one thing lieutenant simon ghost riley knew when he began dating you. he had to be the best version of himself or at least try. you were the only person he met that he ever wanted to try for.
i. words of affirmation
initially, simon has trouble adjusting to calling you any pet names and just calls you by your name. it isn’t until he gets comfortable enough to say, “love” which is his go to nickname. he says them only in private though.
and then it’s nicknames galore. he calls you his sunshine because he literally adores your smile so much!!! the type to say, “i brought flowers for you. they needed sunshine and you were the obvious choice.” and he also says things like, “my darling angel” when you get him a cup of tea.
most importantly, if you ever do something that’s like daunting or difficult for you or if you learn something he’s gonna say “that’s my girl, always so intelligent.” if the two of you ever hit the gym together and you hit more reps than your regular ones, he’s gonna be so happy for you. “atta girl,” he kisses your cheek as he pats your back.
ii. gifts
he wasn’t very heavy on gift giving. that was until he saw something that he knew you’d like and bought it. and the smile that graced your face with the stars in your eyes made him want to do it more often.
and he felt his heart jump when he saw you cherish the letters he’d written when he was deployed. ever since then, he’s been leaving cute little notes for you, making handmade things you’d like such as bracelets, necklaces. he knows how to sew and he sewed a cute little shirt for you. this also brings me to the fact that he likes knitting a lot and loves making mug warmers? it’s endearing really. he can also carve wood apparently? so he makes sweet little decoration pieces for your apartment. (but also lumber jack simon making me insane)
all in all, he loves giving gifts. he’s the type to make a special notebook for just you and put pressed flowers on each page. “got you something you liked, darling.”
iii. acts of service
simon’s strongest way of expressing love is through acts of service. he’s a military man and a firm believer of ‘actions speak louder than words.’ i’ve said it before that his eye for detail is insane and he uses it in the relationship as well. alongside with his ability to literally commit you to memory, he remembers everything. (except birthdays, but he’ll remember yours).
from bending down to tie your shoelaces, to refilling snacks that he knows you like, to picking up heavy stuff, to guiding you with a hand on your waist, everything really!!! can read your facial expressions like it’s the only thing he knows and can immediately figured out what you like and don’t like. “you okay?”
and god, he's also aware of the sidewalk rule! never lets you walk on the outer side. the type to place a hand on corners and edges so that you don’t get hurt. he’s always looking out for you, ensuring you don't have anything in your way. he’ll always stand behind you because he feels it gives him a better chance to protect you.
iv. quality time
such a sucker for spending time with you but that’s mainly because he knows his is limited. and he would never risk not spending another minute with you. from watching movies, to watching you do make up in front of the vanity, to reading books together, training together, having tea. he finds your presence alone to be comforting. it's like you deal with all of his inner thoughts and reservations without even knowing it.
he also enjoyed doing mundane domestic tasks with you like getting groceries, setting up ikea furniture, cooking and cleaning together, honestly he loves it all. especially if there’s some jazz music playing in the background. i can absolutely imagine rubbing a little flour on simon’s face and he’ll get so offended, chasing you around the entire house, pining you down, just to do the same to you.
v. physical touch
simon is hesitant to become physically affectionate. that's not to say that he doesn’t enjoy it, it's just that when you’ve been met with violence all your life, gentleness is hardly something you expect.
but god, did he want to melt into a puddle when you held his hand or when you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. he swears he forgot how to breathe. and little by little, he got comfortable. hands hesitant to be on your waist, until that's the only place you found them, his head always nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “this might just be the favorite part of my day,” he says softly.
from lacing fingers, to kissing you the first thing in the morning, once simon’s comfortable, he won’t go a day without being intimate. “c’mere give me a kiss” to “you’re my good luck charm, love.”
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TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.
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pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader
summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…
warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 5.3k
a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭
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Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films. 
Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down. 
Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since. 
The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job. 
You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before. 
As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”
Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“
“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face. 
Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air. 
“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”
He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow. 
My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?
After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left. 
Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again. 
You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films. 
In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”
Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”
“Her who?”
“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!” 
Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”
“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously. 
Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him. 
“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly. 
Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence. 
You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant. 
He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open. 
From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies. 
He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies. 
You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it. 
But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again. 
This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.
Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them. 
And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant. 
Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door. 
Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.
“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What  -- the hell are you doing here?” 
“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time. 
If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”
“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.
You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity. 
“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work. 
Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.” 
“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more. 
And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.
Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you. 
“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you. 
“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”
“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”
You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”
Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him. 
“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim. 
Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive. 
“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply. 
On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off. 
“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch. 
“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”
So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants. 
He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas. 
The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy. 
However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him. 
Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on. 
So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing. 
“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day. 
Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”
Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?” 
You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”
He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh. 
“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”
Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“
You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”
“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck. 
Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started— 
“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.” 
You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register. 
“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time. 
You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass. 
Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer. 
“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him. 
Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.
Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth. 
You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled. 
“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“
Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”
Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you. 
Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching. 
Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch. 
“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”
Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“ 
“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”
Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin. 
He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release. 
But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him. 
You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”
Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.” 
You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”
He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you. 
Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust. 
Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch. 
He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips. 
“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin. 
“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings. 
“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”
“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.
Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail. 
Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl. 
After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole. 
Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better. 
“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing. 
You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.” 
Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly. 
He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure. 
“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you. 
Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you. 
“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit. 
The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet. 
You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter. 
You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too. 
You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”
“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go. 
You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed. 
“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again. 
“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable. 
You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole. 
“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately. 
His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously. 
You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.
“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”
“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you. 
You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex. 
This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.
Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…” 
He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right. 
You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly. 
“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice. 
“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length. 
“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”
“I’m even better, baby.” 
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theemporium · 2 months
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[5k] neither of you considered the possibility of your family and friends finding out about your relationship. however, in a series of events, they discover you and quinn are together. but it's fine as long as luke doesn't find out, right?
part one // series masterlist
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When the season started, you thought it would be easier to hide your relationship from everyone you knew. Never once did either you or Quinn expect to be caught. 
And never once did you think the first person to learn about you and Quinn would be Trevor fucking Zegras of all people.
Before the semester had even started, it had been an unspoken agreement between you and Quinn that you would fly out during reading week. It would be difficult to avoid questions—mostly from Luke who would be offended you weren’t going to fly out to New Jersey—but it was doable. It just took a few weeks of you dropping hints and clues about flying out to Canada to your best friend for him to not really question it when you said you were going to visit your brother. 
And after months away, it was a fucking dream to have this week with Quinn, to settle that uneasiness in your chest that had been lingering since you left the lakehouse that summer. 
You both knew the hockey schedule was insane. You knew neither of you could really leave his apartment. But with a string of games at home for the week, it seemed worth having that week together. 
You didn’t think anything could go wrong.
“What are you thinking in that pretty head of yours?”
Your fingers paused the random shapes they were tracing on his bare chest, moving to lift your head to find him already staring at you with a fond look. 
“You. Us. This. Everything.” You listed off, your lips twitching upwards when he rolled his eyes. “What? You asked and I answered.” 
“I think you’re holding out on me,” Quinn retorted, his hand squeezing where it rested on your hip. “Wanna share what things you were thinking about? More specifically, those thoughts about us.” 
You snorted. “Get your head out of the gutter, Hughes.” 
“Maybe you need to get your head down there,” he countered and, before a witty response could even pass your lips, he had flipped you both over until you were laying on your back with him looming over you. “It’s fun down here, I think you’d like it.” 
You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Yeah?” 
“Mhm,” he hummed as his fingers traced up and down your bare thigh, a small grin on his face when he felt your body shiver in response. “Gave me a few ideas too.” 
You swallowed harshly as you noted the dark glint in his eyes, the way your stomach twisted in desire as his fingers kept moving upwards. “Like what?” 
Quinn’s smirk widened a little. “Like—” 
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! 
Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling as though your body had been doused in cold water as you sat up a little. “Were you expecting someone?” 
Quinn frowned, sitting up himself as he tried not to show his clear annoyance at the interruption. “No, I told the boys to call me if they needed me outside of practice. I don’t know who that could be—” 
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! 
“You should probably go get that,” you murmured, trying to bite back your smile as Quinn grumbled something under his breath. 
“If it’s any of the boys, I’m making them do bag skates at practice,” he huffed, crawling out of the sheets and reaching for an abandoned pair of sweatpants on the floor before he left the bedroom. 
He could feel his annoyance brittle when the person knocked for a third time, this time hitting the door over and over again until Quinn reached for the handle and yanked the door open. 
The last person he expected to see was Trevor Zegras on the other side, grinning at him like it was a totally normal thing for him to be on Quinn’s doorstep on a random Tuesday. 
“There’s my favourite Hughes!” 
Quinn blinked once. And then twice. And then a third time just to make sure he was actually standing there. 
“What the fuck, Zegras?” 
“I wanted to surprise you! We didn’t have anything on before the game on Thursday so I thought I’d head up a day earlier than the others and—” Trevor paused, seeming to catch on to the way the older boy was glaring at him. “Geez, this wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”
“I—” Quinn took a deep breath. “And what reaction were you expecting?” 
“At least a hug, I mean—” Trevor moved to take a step forward, his arms open like he was going to reach to hug the other boy, only to pause. It was like he was finally taking in Quinn’s attire for the first time—or the lack thereof—before his eyes focused on the blossoming bruises along his neck and collarbone. 
It was scary the way the grin spread across his face.
Quinn frowned. “What? Why are you doing that with your face?”
“You got a girl in here, Huggy?” Trevor grinned, not even giving Quinn a chance to react before he was pushing his way into the flat. “Aw shit, Jack never told me you were seeing someone! Is it new? What’s her name? Is it a dude? Listen, I don’t judge! I’ve seen the edits with you and Pettersson.” 
Quinn blinked. “I—what?”
He was still standing in shock, trying to process the words that just left Trevor’s lips before he realised the boy was walking deeper into his flat. His eyes widened, his brain shutting out whatever random rambling that was coming out of Trevor’s mouth as he tried to reach out to stop the boy—but it was useless. 
It was like the whole world froze when Trevor shoved the bedroom door open. His words came to an abrupt stop, his jaw hanging open as he looked at you sprawled on Quinn’s bed with a sheet covering your clearly-otherwise naked body. He looked at your face, then back to Quinn before they settled on you again.
“YOU’RE BANGING LADY HUGHES?!”
Quinn winced. “Why do you have to say it like that?” 
“I…oh my god…you…WHAT?” Trevor spluttered out, looking between the two of you like you were aliens to him. “How long has this been going on? Why the fuck did no one tell me? What the fuck?”
“Well, we can’t tell you something nobody else knows,” you supplied with a sheepish expression.
His eyes widened further. “Nobody else knows? Like at all?” 
You shook your head.
His face instantly brightened. “So I’m the first?” 
“Not by choice,” Quinn grumbled under his breath.
“You can’t tell anyone, Trev,” you said, a pleading look on your face. “Especially not Luke. We are gonna tell him…just not yet. You cannot tell a soul, not even Jack.” 
“I won’t. Scout’s promise.” 
Quinn glared at him. “Were you even a boy scout?” 
“No, why do you ask?” 
“I—” Quinn just shook his head. “Can you just…wait outside whilst we get dressed?”
“Aw, I knew you’d be happy I was here, Huggy,” Trevor beamed, patting the older boy’s cheek before he bounced out of the room, most likely helping himself to whatever was in Quinn’s fridge. 
Quinn turned to you, looking exasperated but you just grinned. 
“Guess that’s one less person we have to worry about hiding from?” 
He just sighed deeply in response. 
Trevor ended up keeping his word, not telling a soul. Though, he did go out of his way to bug you and Quinn—mostly Quinn—about your relationship.
You would have thought the situation with Trevor would have prompted the two of you to be more careful. You thought it would have been your lesson learnt that not even the season being fully underway would be distracting enough for you to be as laid back as you were. You thought it was the small reality check you needed. 
As it would turn out, it wasn’t even two weeks later when the next slip up happened. 
It was a stupid, drunken promise that led you to the Hughes’ family home in Ann Arbor, bright and early on a Saturday. When the boys had revealed to you that all three batches of the cookies they had meant to make for a charity sale the university were holding had burnt to a crisp because all of them were incapable of baking, you had offered up your amateur baking skills to make a few batches. 
You were drunk and emotionally compromised and it was really hard to say no to the pleading eyes of Ethan Edwards.
However, with your kitchen barely being big enough to hold two people, Ellen had kindly offered her kitchen for you to use. Plus, she had been wanting to catch up with you since the semester had started, especially considering it was the longest time you and Luke had been apart.
It was somewhere in between the second and third batch when your phone started ringing on the counter. 
“Hey Ellen, could you grab that for me?” You called out over your shoulder, your hands preoccupied in rolling small balls of cookie dough to place on the tray. “Just answer it and put it on speaker.”
There was a beat of hesitation. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” 
“Yeah, just place it down on the counter beside me,” you said offhandedly, frowning at the batch of cookies as Ellen pressed the little green button and let the ringing stop.
You were elbow deep in a bowl of batter when a familiar voice echoed through the Hughes’ kitchen. 
“Hey babe, quick question: did you say you were coming up for Christmas break or not?” 
The whole room fell silent as you looked over your shoulder, finding Ellen already staring at you. She had an amused glint in her eyes, her lips twitching upwards in a smile that was a little mischievous—it reminded you so much of Jack. You dared a glance at the doorway where Jim stood, eyebrows raised in surprise but something quite happy in his expression. 
“Uh, can I call you back? I just have to…deal with something real quick.”
“You okay?” 
“Yeah, just…” You trailed off again, your cheeks burning as Ellen and Jim stared at you. “I’ll call back in ten minutes when I’m finished with these cookies, okay?” 
“Okay, miss you.” 
“Miss you too.”
The sound of the call cutting sounded through the kitchen and none of you said anything for a few seconds. And much to your surprise, it was Jim who spoke first. 
“God dammit, kid, you cost me twenty bucks!”
You blinked. “Huh?” 
Ellen smiled fondly, taking a few steps until she was beside you. She gave your elbow a soft squeeze, something knowing in her gaze. “I always knew you’d end up with one of my boys. Jim was just convinced it would be Jack.” 
Jim huffed. “I bet your parents twenty bucks each.” 
Your eyes widened. “My parents?” 
“We aren’t blind, kid,” Jim retorted, something soft and fond in his voice. 
Ellen snorted. “Clearly you are since you thought it would be Jack.” 
“I—” You started but you weren’t even sure what to say.
Ellen turned back to you, smiling like the whole conversation was normal. “I always knew it would be Quinn. I saw the way he looked at you, even when you were young.”
Your brows furrowed. “Quinn barely liked me when we were kids.”
And Ellen just laughed like that was the funniest thing you could have said. It wasn’t exactly the way you wanted either of your parents—Quinn’s and your own—to find out about your relationship. 
But, unlike Trevor, Ellen and Jim understood the unspoken rule and just how…complicated the situation was, despite Ellen’s insistence that her eldest son had been crushing on you for a lot longer than you believed. 
Nobody tell Luke.
It was your fault for leaving the room.
When you had enrolled in Michigan, there was a small part of you that was worried college would be the thing to tear you and Luke apart. In retrospect, it was a stupid thought to have. But you were young and scared and entering this unknown era of your life, and you just wanted to cling onto what you knew, what you were used to—onto Luke.
You realised pretty early on that the thought was stupid when the hockey team had practically adopted you. You were an extension of Luke, but it never felt like that. They were your friends as much as they were Luke’s, and you found yourself fond of these boys who had wiggled their way into your heart. 
Knowing you still had them despite Luke being in New Jersey made coming back alone so much easier. 
However, the life of a D1 athlete was an intense one, along with the fact classes were getting harder and assignments were getting longer. But the boys had practically demanded you come over at least once a week so you didn’t ‘forget who your new best friends are’, as they so kindly liked to say over and over again. Mostly just to annoy Luke.
It was one of those nights. You had made your way to their house after your last class, faceplanting down onto the couch until the group of you had decided on ordering pizza. You had some random comedy movie running on in the background, just senseless noise to accompany whatever random debates Ethan had managed to drag up. It was nice and easy and relaxing, and made you feel a little more sane in what was turning out to be a gruelling year. 
You were in the middle of showing Rutger a random video Jack had sent you of Luke decking it on the ice during practice when the doorbell rang. 
“I’ll get it,” you told them without missing a beat, leaving your phone in their hands as you collected the pizzas from the delivery man. 
What you weren’t expecting was to come back and find all of them staring at you with creepy matching grins on their faces.
You froze, eyeing them suspiciously. “What? What happened?” 
“You are a sneaky lil’ thing, aren’t you?” Rutger spoke up, looking far too smug over something you were still in the dark over. 
You glanced between them before your eyes settled on Rutger again, your confusion clear on your face. 
Rutger continued, “when were you gonna tell us you have a boyfriend?” 
Your body froze. “I don’t know what—”
“And when the fuck were you gonna tell us it’s Quinn Hughes?” Mark jumped in, turning your phone around to show a picture you and Quinn had taken during your last visit. 
He had taken the photo in an elevator mirror, your back to the camera as you wrapped yourself around the boy. But he was grinning, so big and unbothered and it was one of your favourite sights. It was one of your favourite photos of him. 
And it certainly wasn’t the photo you left them with.
“Did you go through my phone?” You finally managed to blurt out when words found you again. But the damage was done and you knew there wasn’t much you could do considering the last time they were aware, you barely spoke to the oldest Hughes brother.
“I can’t believe you kept this from us!” Ethan huffed out, shaking his head like he was genuinely offended. He probably was. He tended to be the more dramatic one. 
“I can’t believe Luke allowed this,” Mark snorted. 
You flashed them a sheepish smile. 
“Oh, dude,” Rutger murmured with a shake of his head.
“You can’t tell him. You can’t tell anyone.” You shifted in your spot, something a little desperate and pleading in your voice, and it was enough for the boys to sober up a bit. Become a little more serious. “We didn’t wanna tell anyone yet and I just…”
“We won’t tell a soul,” Mark reassured you, a soft smile on his face that eased some of the anxiety in your chest.
“As long as you tell us everything,” Ethan added, a knowing smirk on his face. “And I mean everything because how the fuck does any of the Hughes brothers have game?”
And you couldn’t help but snort in response.
Jack didn’t accidentally find out more than he put it together. 
It wasn’t often that the Devils and the Canucks met during the season but when they did, it was a family affair. You had decided to join the Hughes parents on their trip up to Vancouver, each of you wearing your hybrid Canucks/Devils jerseys that Ellen had custom made for these occasions. 
The game itself went by as you expected. There was a lot of media coverage on the ‘Hughes Bowl’, meaning each of the boys had been dragged into interview after interview before the game. It was a good game, a clean one too. You tried not to wince too much when the final buzzer blared through the arena and it was a Devils win. 
You knew Quinn would be a little gutted, even if he wouldn’t fully show it in front of his family.
The group of you had decided to head out to one of the Canucks’ favourite bars, something that Luke had whined a little about considering Ellen and Jim insisted they join. But it was wholesome and sweet and made you crave the summer weeks a little more than the current early January weather.
You were settled at the bar, laughing at Jack’s attempt to catch the bartender’s attention to order another round of shots he had dragged you into doing when you felt the warmth of another body settle beside you. For a short moment, you smiled thinking that maybe Quinn had snuck away from whatever conversation he had been stuck in with Petey and Jim. But when you turned your head, you found a stranger standing beside you. 
“Hey gorgeous,” he smiled, and something instantly unsettled deep within your chest.
“Hi,” you replied, short and blunt as you tried to shift away but there wasn’t much space by the crowded bar.
“Hey, where are you going? I just wanted to chat,” he said with an easy smile on his face, his hand resting on your elbow and you instantly jerked away from his hold. 
“I’m not interested,” you answered.
He laughed and the sound grated on your nerves. “That’s a bit presumptuous that I wanted something, sweetheart. Think you’re all that, huh?” 
“Just leave me alone,” you said as you took a step back. A part of you wanted to turn your head and try to catch Jack’s attention, try to ask for help. Another part of you didn’t want to look away from this man. You didn’t trust him.
He huffed out a chuckle. “Don’t be like that—”
“She said no. Fuck off now.” 
A mix of relief and surprise washed over you when you felt a body settle behind you, and you didn’t need to turn your head to know it was Quinn standing behind you, but you still did just to settle the tightness in your chest. 
His face was set in a blank expression, but you recognised it well enough. When he got angry—truly angry—he didn’t have a frown on his face or a crease between his brows. His face just looked…blank. Like he was so lost in his own rage that no expression could really encapsulate how he felt. 
You rarely saw it. He rarely showed this side of him.
His hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to his body as his eyes never left the stranger’s. He tilted his head to the side when the man opened his mouth again, and that seemed enough to shut him up again. 
“Go.” 
The man decided to do the smart thing and scuttle into the crowd of people, disappearing with a blink of an eye until neither you nor Quinn could see him. But even with him gone, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness in your chest.
A second passed before Quinn moved, now standing in front of you with your face in his hands as he tore your gaze away from the crowd to look at him instead. His brows were furrowed together in concern, his lips turned downwards as he glanced over you to make sure you were okay.
“Hey, you with me?” He murmured, his voice soft and comforting and you clung onto it.
“Mhm,” you nodded, flashing him a shaky smile. 
His frown deepened. “Don’t lie to me—”
“I’m not,” you told him honestly, your hands fisting the material of his shirt like you were scared he was going to step away. “I just…you make me feel better.” 
His face softened and the last of his resolve went out the window as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you close until you were pressed into his chest. You nuzzled your face against his sweater, letting the familiar smell of his cologne wash over you and calm the last of your nerves. 
And when you opened your eyes, you found Jack standing a few feet away from you. Quinn hadn’t noticed he was there and Jack made no move to announce his presence. But he gave you this smile, one that was kind and knowing and felt like a stamp of approval you didn’t know you wanted or needed from the middle Hughes brother. 
But Jack smiled at the sight of you and his older brother, raising his shot glass like a promise to keep your secret and knocking it back without a moment of hesitation.
You had no plans on telling Luke about you and Quinn the night it actually ended up happening. 
There was a mutual agreement between you both that you couldn’t keep it from Luke any longer. It wasn’t fair on him to be left in the dark, it wasn’t fair on you two having to sneak around and it wasn’t fair on the people who already knew having to keep your secret.
And with the normal season coming to an end, it felt like a clock was running against you to tell your best friend you were dating his brother before you were all locked in the lakehouse for the summer together.
When you had imagined the moment in your head, it was the three of you. You would sit Luke down, explain your feelings and hope that he wouldn’t feel too betrayed. You imagined he would say something stupid like ‘yeah, I already know, losers’ and you could live your lives happily ever after.
It was probably never going to happen like that, but you certainly didn’t expect it to happen like this.
After a rough season and a streak of rough games for Luke in particular, the news of the Devils’ head coach stepping down felt inevitable and, truthfully, it was a relief when you saw the news come through. Luke had called you, far too smug and giddy for someone whose team was technically without a key member—but you guessed it was mostly second-hand from the other boys. 
You swore you could hear Jack and Nico talking about popping open a bottle of champagne in the background when he called. 
It felt like an unspoken agreement for you to fly out when Luke told you about a huge party they were throwing that weekend. Not for the recent retirement, obviously. If anyone asked, it was a simple bonding experience for the boys to motivate them through the last leg of the season.
And somewhere between the beer pong game Luke dragged you into and the really strong margarita Simon made you, you had snuck off into a small bathroom to call the one person your drunk self craved to see.
“Hey, pretty girl.”
You grinned at the sight of your boyfriend’s face on your screen, his hair tucked under a beanie as he walked around his apartment. “Hey, baby.”
He took in your flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, snorting a little. “Having fun?” 
“So much fun,” you giggled before letting out a heavy sigh. “I wish you were here.”
“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, like he was counting the days. He probably was. You knew you were too. “Spring break, remember?” 
“Hmm, I can’t wait to have you all to myself,” you mused, sinking back against the wall of the bath you were currently leaning on. “I’m sick of sharing my boyfriend with Petey.” 
Quinn laughed. “I thought you loved Petey.” 
You sighed deeply. “I do love that big, blond Swede.” 
He shook his head in amusement. “I’ll let him know. I’m sure he loves you too.”
You perked up a little. “Really?”
“Really, baby.” 
“Woah,” you breathed out, your eyes falling shut as you leaned against the cool ceramic of the bathtub. “I know I said it before…but I really wish you were here.”
Quinn’s face softened. “Me too, babe. Me too.” 
You opened your mouth to say something, probably some random drunken thought that you felt the insistent need to share with your boyfriend before knocking on the bathroom door interrupted you. 
You froze when you heard Luke calling your name on the other side. 
Quinn frowned at the way your face paled a little. “Baby, what’s happened? Who is it?” 
You heard shuffling on the other side before Luke’s muffled voice sounded through the door. “Are you talking to Quinn?”
You could have hung up. You could have told him you were talking to someone else entirely. You could have done a million and one other things that made more sense. However, for some fucking reason, your drunk brain panicked. 
“I don’t know a Quinn!” 
Quinn furrowed his brows in confusion.
There was a pause on the other side of the door before Luke tested the handle, finding the door unlocked. He let himself in, standing by the entrance as he stared down at you curled up beside the bathtub with a frown.
“Why are you hiding in here? I need another beer pong partner and Holtz sucks so—”
And because the universe liked to fuck with you, it seemed like there was some sort of lag on Quinn’s side because his voice was echoing through the small bathroom before you could even warn him about Luke’s presence.
“Baby, what’s happening? You’re starting to scare me.” 
Your eyes widened as silence suffocated the small room. You looked at Quinn before looking at Luke, who was looking at your phone with a mixed expression. 
“Did…did he just call you baby?” 
“No?”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on? Why are you on the phone to Quinn? And why are you hiding in the bathroom? And since when do you talk to Quinn?” 
You flashed him a sheepish smile. “Since we’ve been dating,”
Luke blinked before he snorted. “No, I’m being serious.” 
You swallowed. “So am I.”
Luke let out another laugh, but this one was a little less convincing. “I…no, you’re messing with me. Jack put you both up to this, right?” 
You stayed silent. 
“Right?” Luke asked again, a little more desperate.
Your eyes shifted down to Quinn—the lag thankfully gone—before you looked back up at Luke with a nervous expression. You shifted so your phone screen was now facing him, watching as his eyes dropped down to his brother’s face. 
“We wanted to tell you—”
“You,” Luke sneered, his eyes narrowed. “You have been planning this.” 
You blinked. “Huh?” 
“He’s been planning this!” Luke said with such confidence, though that might have been the mix of rum and tequila talking. “He’s been planning this since the sour patch kids!”
Quinn shot his brother a look. “You think I’ve been planning to date your best friend since you were seven?” 
“Yes.” 
You didn’t have to look at the screen to know Quinn was rolling his eyes at his younger brother.
“How long has this been going on?” 
“A while.” 
“That’s not an answer,” Luke frowned before looking at you.
“Since last summer,” you whispered.
“Summer?!” Luke spluttered. “You two have been dating for eight months and no one knew?” 
You winced.
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Who knows?” 
“Just Trevor,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. 
He deflated, blinking. “Oh, well I guess—” 
“And your parents and my parents and Ethan and Rutger and Mark and Jack,” you blurted out quickly, your cheeks heating up as Luke stared at you like he didn’t know you.
“So everyone but me?” 
“Luke—”
“Everyone but me knows?” 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 
“This is just a bad dream,” Luke murmured to himself before nodding his head, a little more confidently. “No, yes. This is a bad dream influenced by Nemo’s shitty bartending skills. A bad dream where my older brother is stealing my best friend. It isn’t real at all.” 
You blinked. “Luke—”
“Just need to play out the rest of the bad dream and I’ll wake up,” he continued muttering away as he reached for the door handle, ready to leave the small, cramped bathroom. “Just a bad dream.” 
“Luke—” 
But he was already gone before you could say anything.
“Well, he’s gonna have a brutal reality check in the morning.” 
You turned your phone to glare at your boyfriend. Though, much to your surprise, he was grinning in response. 
“Quinn, this is serious.” 
“Baby, I know.” His face seemed to soften a little, but the smile remained. “But now he knows. This is what we wanted. And now we don’t have to hide.” 
Your annoyance melted away at his revelation, a warmth settling in your chest that only Quinn seemed to bring. “Stop being cute.” 
“I’m being realistic, baby. Now you can come up any time you want.”
You snorted. “I still have classes.”
“I’ll find a way around those too. You can’t stop me, baby, gonna tell the whole world how much I love you.”
Your face softened with a smile. “I love you too.” 
Quinn’s smile mirrored yours. “Now go make sure my brother doesn’t do something stupid whilst he thinks he’s in a dream. Mum will kill me if his face is plastered on a tabloid in the morning.”
“Pretty sure Jack will go out of his way to make sure that happens.”
“Please don’t let it happen.” 
You gave him a mock salute. “Aye, aye, captain.” 
He shook his head with a fond expression. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 
“Okay. Bye, I love you.” 
“I love you too.”
“And I love Petey.”
Quinn snorted. “Yeah, I love him too. Get in line.”
.
613 notes · View notes
hyomaslut · 10 months
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──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! what is this? boyfriend material.
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☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ᴘᴛ. 𝟷
✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage, nagi seishiro ✿ ─ cw: fluff, gn!reader, no pronouns but there are a few 'fem coded' things referenced like make up or skirts, aged-up!characters, established relationships, pet names, kissing, groping, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, proofread so many times so if there’s a typo ill cry ✿ ─ notes: this is my first post ♪(´▽`) i haven't written stuff like this in a pretty long time so bear with me ‹𝟹 this is some hybrid of headcanon and drabble idk
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ISAGI YOICHI is a full-fledged bonafide simp...
he suffers from tragic a condition. when he’s not trying? flirting supreme panty dropper. however, when he tries to flirt with someone he likes? bro is fumbling. at first he seems like such an instant charmer. hes a classic gentleman, great listener, and super attractive. but the second he gets an inkling of a crush, he ruins it for himself. stuttering and getting his words mixed up, saying the most embarrassing jumbled combination of what he actually meant to.
follows you around to all your tasks because how else would he spend his free time except hanging with his baby. to sephora, to the grocery store, to the salon, the the ends of the earth if that's where you're heading that day. more than happy to hold onto your hand as you go about your business, rambling about global soccer statistics and looking at you like you hold the world. yoichi is a prideful purse holder too, his arms and pockets and car being full of your belongings makes him insanely happy for some reason he can’t put his finger on. always ready to press the lip gloss you’re patting yourself down for into the palm your hand, taking a kiss as payment.
he’s bad at planning dates, so don’t put him in charge unless you want to be late to a reservation at a restaurant 2 hours away with mediocre food. he’s good at paying for them though!! the dates he does get to plan are usually to the mall. what can i say, man likes to spoil you.
at the mall isagi can kind of trick you. because typically if he were to offer to buy you a couple hundred dollars worth of things, you would absolutely refuse. buttt if its just one thing from this store and one thing from another, and maybe its the fact that you dont feel the weight of all the items as your boyfriend carries it all, but it flies under your radar. and at some point you look at yoichi… and he has a lot of shopping bags. surely some of those were his right? the little pleased love sick smile on his face says otherwise.
its so worth it to isagi tho. he gets to spend time with you, make you happy, be a doting bf. but it also means that he can pick out clothes for you. as generous as he was, he could be a bit of a greedy gifter - never leaving the mall without a new skirt of his choosing. will personally pick out a pile of things he wants you to try on just for him.
once youre with isagi for a few months, he reveals his true colors. man is a serial PDA offender. he just thinks you’re so pretty, and it gives him such an ego boost to be the guy by your side. better hold his hand or its going in your back pocket. leans in under the guise of giving you a quick, generally acceptable peck on the lips… but all of a sudden he wants another before you even fully pull away from the first and its all downhill from there. sits on your side of the table at restaurants instead of across from you so he can rest his hand on your thigh and sneak in small squeezes when he thinks youre not paying attention. and be careful about walking in front of him, he’s not strong enough to resist the urge to smack your ass.
if the PDA thing wasnt a dead give away, isagi is just very affectionate in general, honestly has a hard time leaving you alone when you’re in the same room as him. he just gravitates towards you no matter what he was previously doing. very easily distracted, very easy to bribe. he’s the type of guy where when he goes to get out of bed in the morning to go to practice, and you cling to him and ask him for just 5 more minutes, theres nothing that could stop him from sinking right back into your arms. his attendance record has definitely suffered because he is unable to deny you a single thing you ask for, especially if that thing is him.
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CHIGIRI HYOMA is taken and makes sure everyone knows it…
hyoma’s partner very quickly becomes his best friend if they weren’t before they started dating. it’s not even intentional, but he gets very quickly attached to you. sure, he has a decent amount of friends, but none of them know him like you do. he loves to hear you talk about your life, invested in your daily drama and indulging you with all of his. he likes to hear your input and insights on situations. he takes notes in his phone when he sees things he thinks you would like, or conversations he had that he wants to tell you about. forever surprised by how much he misses you when you’re apart, chigiri is used to not needing anyone the way he needs you. is so much grumpier at matches that have him go abroad without you, texting you often throughout the day, whenever he can get his hands on his phone.
because you’re now his best friend and partner, chigiri’s a bit tied to you at the hip, but he would never admit to being clingy. not that you mind, hanging out with him is fun and surprisingly intimate. he never fails to hold your hand wherever you go or throw an arm around your shoulder. on dates he’ll lean in close to your ear to whisper little observations and jokes about the people around, the two of you sharing witty comments and secretive snickers behind your hands. when hanging out with mutual friends, the way yours eyes meet his wordlessly, both holding the same micro expression, indistinguishable to other people, that says “we are so talking about that later”.
speaking of clinging to your side, hyoma can have a bit of a possessive streak at times. i feel like it’s something you don’t really expect of him until there’s a guy flirting with you in a store. the way your boyfriend is at your side before you can even answer, standing at his full height, squaring his shoulders with a sour look on his face, not at all shy about the way his arm snakes around your waist. “they’re not interested.” he states plainly, as if it were obvious, but if you payed close attention to him (which you always did), you would notice the distasteful curl of his lip or the venom seeping into his tone or the way his usually gentle fingers hold onto your side with a firm grip.
he doesn’t meet your eyes after, already sensing the knowing smirk on your lips. his ears turn red when you break the silence to tell him that green was a good color on him. but, your ever clever boyfriend is quick to reply, “that’s cute baby, but i’m not jealous. you haven’t seen me when i’m jealous.” the mischievous glimmer in his eye and the smug smile he wears reminds you to not test him.
king of matching outfits with you. not in the novelty shirts cheesy way, but he always asks for a fit check before he picks you up on dates. chigiri is outside your apartment within the hour, wearing a jacket that matches the color of your shoes and a sly grin. generally starts to shift his style to be a bit more cohesive with yours, he loves going out and looking like you belong together.
not to mention, matching outfits give him more excuses to take pictures with you. photos of you and him are plastered all over his instagram, your handle in his bio and everything. he’s no amateur either, always able to catch your best side, in perfect lighting. really makes you feel as pretty as he seems to think you are. hyoma is a bit of a show off too, so he gets a bit of an ego boost getting to let everyone know how cute you are, and that you’re all his.
hyoma greatly values the alone time he gets to spend with you. the best part of his week is sitting on the couch as you help him with his hair care routine. you running a mix of the comb and your fingers through his hair as the two of you catch up on the k-drama you started together. your touch and your attention and your warm presence enough to make the stress of a pro soccer career melt off his shoulders. makes you teach him how to do your nails and learns your skin care routine so that he can return the favor, although he’s much better at the latter.
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MIKAGE REO is ungodly whipped and more than a little dramatic…
if we’re talking about social media boyfriends, reo is near insufferable. let’s be real, reo was already flexing on the gram before you got with him. constantly posting pictures of his car and expensive watches and exclusive clubs. he just becomes worse when you agree to go out with him. his story is full of aesthetically blurry shots of you, sometimes featuring him, anywhere and everywhere. in his car, on dates, cooking in his kitchen. he even found the audacity to post a picture of you in his bed, your bare back in full frame, the sheets pooled around your waist. “i’m so lucky” was the caption and the only context provided. unsurprisingly the lifespan of that post was quite short once you caught wind of it, with the assurance that he wouldn’t be getting so lucky in the near future.
i totally think reo is the type of guy that tries to act like a fuckboy but is secretly a hopeless romantic. in other words, reo is a huge sap™. has a picture of you in his wallet. you’re his screen saver and all his passwords feature your name. nagi is the last person left that will still listen to reo ramble on about you, all of his other friends having gotten tired of it.
we already know that reo is taking you to fancy dinners on the regular, but more unexpectedly i think he is a big fan of outdoorsy dates. previously mentioned hopeless romantic tendencies means reo loves a picnic way more than he lets on. his favorite is when the summer comes around and he gets to take you to the beach. if reo dies and goes to heaven and it's not you rubbing sunscreen into his warm back in a skimpy swimsuit he picked out for you himself, he's not interested. a close second favorite of his is late night drives with you. all the windows of his luxury sports car down, blasting a playlist the two of you made together, singing loud and ugly down the empty freeway. in these moments you make him feel weightless and he swears it’s addicting.
king of clingy. every time that you feel your phone vibrate, there's a good chance that it's your boyfriend. never with anything important either, asking where you are, how was your day, sending you pics of whatever he is doing, even resorting to imessage games when he runs out of things to talk about. he just always finds himself itching to open your contact. if mikage reo could eat up all of your attention, he would not hesitate to do so.
reo is usually the caretaker. when he obtained status of boyfriend, you automatically went on his list of special people in his life, only really consisting of you and nagi, and this granted you the exclusive privilege of walking all over him if you so please. truly a pushover and weak to your pouts. while we’re on the subject of ways to get him to fold, reo is surprisingly easy to flatter. your compliments are honey to his ears, no matter how many people have said the same to him before. his heart thumps loud in his chest whenever you do any act of service or labor of love for him. just wait for the day you buy this man some flowers. got his hand splayed over his red face, his palm not wide enough to cover his infatuated grin. "they're really for me, babe? god i knew i picked you for a reason.”
reo's feelings for you run extremely deep. scary deep. you make him feel stupid and irrational. he can't think straight, he's impulsive. you have to keep a close eye on him because give reo enough time alone and he'll convince himself that getting your name tattooed across his chest is an amazing idea, a grandiose display of his affection and devotion to you - sick as hell too. god forbid you go on a trip by yourself, there's honestly a decent chance you'll come home to a marriage proposal and explanations on how "no no, don't worry babe, i know its sooner than you expected but i've got it all planned out.” just be glad that up until this point he has resisted the strong urge to drop a fourth of his trust fund on a ring, a price he's more than willing to pay to make you all his.
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NAGI SEISHIRO is greedy and will readily take a mile if given an inch…
nagi is… new to the whole boyfriend thing to say the least. not to say he’s bad at it or anything, but i imagine that in the beginning of your relationship, things are a bit, for a lack of better words, lukewarm. he struggles a bit with recognizing that the switch from friends to more than friends is more than just the title, letting you completely take the wheel. but his passiveness doesn’t last long. not when he can’t escape the way you are constantly on his mind. he thought it was overwhelming enough having a crush on you, but now that he’s falling for you it’s on another level. he thinks of you when he first opens his eyes, facing the obnoxious blue light of his phone to send you your daily goodmorning :x . he thinks of you at night, when he’s restlessly fighting to fall asleep before he ultimately caves and facetimes you so that he can drift off to your tired mumbles and even breaths. he thinks of you when practice drags on, the anticipation of seeing you after the only thing keeping him from giving into his exhaustion.
nagi can’t get you out of his head for the life of him, but to be fair he doesn’t put up much of a fight. seishiro is used to getting what he wants, so what does he do when his desire for you becomes a hassle? he makes it your problem. constantly calling you and asking you to pick him up from social functions because he misses you. insisting that he stays the night at your place or that you come to his because he needs his daily dose of you. and he doesn’t have the shame to be shy of telling you everything on his mind either. he unintentionally says very flustering things, unabashedly demanding your touch and your company, no matter who is listening. it’s your fault he’s like this after all, you might as well take responsibility and give him what he wants.
and what he wants is affection from you, as much as he can get. serishiro is mesmerized by your reactions. being in love with you is uncharted territory that he maps out with piqued curiosity and newfound greed. especially kissing. once nagi gets his first taste of kissing you for real, messy and needy and drawn out, he never wants to go back. not after seeing your red face, eyes lidded and lips parted so cutely he just has to steal one more. now his day dreams revolve around you, what flavor of chapstick you’re wearing, what perfume do you have on, are you thinking of him as much as he does you? thats one thing he never really finds the courage to ask, but that he secretly hopes is true.
he loves to find things you can work on together, even if you always end up being the one putting in more effort. nagi will insist on cooking dinner together, and maybe you get his help for a good 10 minutes before he’s slumped in a seat at the counter eating the ingredients. buys tons of lego sets for the two of you to put together and while you’re following the instructions, he’s stealing pieces you need so he can build a little car to push around the table while he watches you figure it out. he’ll even settle for a puzzle and a movie, but your out of luck if you expect him to do anything but the edges.
the lazy genius only really has the time and energy to have a couple of important people in his life, but once you make it into that inner circle, that shit is permanent as far as he’s concerned. it begins with him telling you that it only makes sense to leave some clothes at his apartment, you’re at his place half the week anyway. and then its him smuggling over your favorite pillows and stuffed animals to his bed instead of yours. then he’s asking you to go grocery shopping with him every week. the jokes he makes about the fact that, “you keep all your stuff here anyway. just move in with me already,” are far too frequent to be subtle. but when he hits you with the puppy eyes, which are annoyingly effective, how could you say no?
you’ve put yourself in his orbit after all and now the solar system that is nagi seishiro will use his gravity to pull you inevitably closer. it’s doomed.
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is my bias obvious?? cuz i feel like it might be… lmk which one was your favorite!!
© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.
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thejakeslayla · 7 months
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╰─▸ ❝ three am ❞ - ,, jake sim
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pairing bf!jake x gn! reader ୨୧ genre fluff ୨୧ warnings kissing, making out ୨୧ wc 1,4k ୨୧ just a little bit of beta, writer is sleep deprived req; prompt 19; (both waking up in the middle of the night and going on an adventure to find the perfect snack) prompt 9 (taking a photo of them smiling or in their element); prompt 14 (brushing strands of hair away)
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as the clock struck 3 a.m., you made the decision to change into more comfortable clothes and head to bed, or at least attempt to do so. it was weekend, nothing to for the following day, yet you couldn't shake the guilt of staying up late. it’s like ruining your sleep schedule on purpose. you had already swapped your jeans for sweatpants, considering that you still needed to eat, and you didn't want to accidentally stain your pjamas.
you had been texting jake an hour ago, but he had stopped responding, leading you to assume he had gone to sleep. as you left your bedroom, a knock on your front door startled you. your eyes widened in fear; it was so late, and you wondered who could be knocking on your door at this hour.
your instinctive reaction was to message jake. you were already holding your phone, so you unlocked it and opened the chat with him. 
your messages filled with panic; "oh my god," "someone is knocking at my door," "what do i do," "jake, oh my god, i'm about to lose it. help."
to your surprise, you received a response, making you think that perhaps jake hadn't gone to bed yet. "just open the door," you gasped at his message.
‘ARE YOU INSANE THIS PERSON WILL PROBABLY KIDNAP ME OR KILL ME I WONT,’ you replied anxiously.
‘y/n.’ ‘open. the. door.’
you didn't understand, but a glimmer of hope made you consider that maybe, just maybe, it was jake. you cautiously approached the door, still fearing the person on the other side, and slowly opened it slightly, allowing you to peek at the intruder. 
the weight on your heart lifted, and the fear disappeared when you saw jake’s silly smile. you loudly groaned and finally opened the door.
"i'm also happy to see you!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he could enter your apartment. "i missed you," he added as you hugged him.
"you're insane, and i hate you. you scared me half to death," you said, pretending to be offended.
“you loooooove me,” he teased, swaying your bodies left and right. “anyways, i’m taking you on a date.” 
“a date? it’s late, jake.”
“don’t care, didn’t ask. put your shoes on, please.” 
you sighed, unable to say no to your adorable, puppy-like boyfriend. he was your soft spot, and he knew it, often abusing it, albeit in a loving way. jake was a pure soul, never even considering hurting you in any way. you quickly put on your shoes, and minutes later, you were outside on the quiet streets of seoul. as the world grew quieter, the streets came alive in a different way. the distant traffic hum became a soothing melody, and the cool breeze on your face, jake’s hand holding yours being the only source of warmth.
feeling the chilly air, jake pulled you closer, his body warming yours. soon, you entered a busier street, with neon signs flickering like distant stars, hurting your eyes if you stared too long. some music from nearby clubs revealed cities nightlife.
you walked in silence until jake pulled a pair of airpods out of his pocket and handed one to you. the music was already playing when you comfortably placed it in your ear. it took just one song for jake to start moving in rhythm with the music. taking advantage of the nearly empty street, he turned to you.
"y/n, let's dance," he said, making you chuckle, almost causing your airpod to fall out, which you had to readjust.
“dance?” you answered too late, as he had already moved away and spun you around. you couldn't help but laugh even more. you couldn't refuse; the melody forced you to dance on its own. for the entire song, you danced around, still moving forward. you didn't know where jake was leading you, but you didn't complain.
another song played, and jake began singing and even rapping loudly. you laughed heartily, enjoying the moment as much as you could. when the chorus rolled in, you both sang along, still somehow dancing. jake enthusiastically gestured while singing the lyrics, which only made you laugh even more.
at some point he even let go out of your hand to focus more on the song, soon after you were recording him and taking pictures, you were basically his hypeman, somehow shouting the adlibs. 
at some point, he let go of your hand to focus more on the song. soon, you were recording him and taking pictures, essentially becoming his hype person, enthusiastically shouting the adlibs. his moves were smooth and pleasant to watch, and you weren't laughing at his dancing skills; you were genuinely impressed. but when he suddenly twerked, you couldn't hold back your laughter and had to stop, nearly collapsing from laughter. 
he laughed alongside you. "please, don't tell me you got that on video," jake said after a minute or two of both of you laughing.
“i got it perfectly, don’t worry.” 
from an outside perspective, you probably looked like two idiots, dancing and singing to songs no one else could hear, laughing as if it were the funniest thing on earth. however, you couldn't be bothered to think about other people; it felt like it was just you, jake, and the music, creating cherished memories together.
you both gradually calmed down, still swaying to the beats as you walked. then, jake pulled you into a 7-eleven, mentioning that he was hungry.
“what are we feeling like eating?” he asked as you strolled through the instant noodles aisle. you quickly grabbed a pack for yourself, and jake followed suit. the argument at the self-checkout couldn't be avoided, but your boyfriend eventually won, claiming that he was the one treating you on this date and that he was the best boyfriend who needed to pay.
soon, you were sitting outside, near the microwaves and the self-cook ramen station. jake had you fill your cup with water first, and you didn't argue against his "best boyfriend" claims because, after all, they were true. as you waited for your cups to be filled, you swayed your hips to the music still playing in your airpods. jake quickly noticed and flashed you a bright smile.
the lyrics expressed a mutual desire in a singer's relationship, willing to do anything for their significant other. it was slow and perfect for the moment. you looked into jake's eyes, focusing more on the song's meaning. in the meantime, he placed his hands on your hips, swaying with you. you felt incredibly safe and loved in this precious moment between the two of you. a romantic song played, and you both gazed at each other with overwhelming love surrounding you. 
you couldn't resist leaning in and asking for a kiss. the tenderness in it felt different, and as his lips met yours, you were instantly flooded with butterflies in your stomach. it felt intimate and more passionate than your previous kisses. unconsciously, you wrapped your hands around his neck as you continued to sway gently, the loud beep from the machine preventing you from having a full-on make-out session in front of the store and the unfortunate cashier who could witness it all.
as you pulled away, you smiled at jake, feeling an abundance of happiness and love that seemed boundless and uncontrollable. both of you turned your attention to your cups, mixing the noodles. soon, you were seated, both slurping on the ramen.
“‘so good,” jake said, with his mouth full. “it hits different during nights like this.” he added after swallowing. 
you nodded, your cheeks full of noodles. he laughed at your adorable appearance, and you responded with a puzzled head tilt. "nothing, you're just cute," he said, perfectly understanding you without the need for words.
you swallowed your noodles, not responding verbally. instead, you reached out and brushed strands of his hair away as you saw him struggling to keep them out of his eyes, his hands occupied.
you both continued to eat as if nothing had happened, but jake's heart was undoubtedly racing from your swift action, his cheeks reddened, and his eyes widen. both of you were certain that this wasn't a fleeting relationship. this late-night date had made you both realise that this was something more, that you both loved each other unconditionally, and that you were both serious about your relationship, wanting to be together until the end.
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requests: open; prompt list © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !
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rafecameronsslxt · 1 year
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Forbidden Touch
Stepbrother! Rafe Cameron x Reader
Synopsis: After so many months of teasing you find your stepbrother Rafe masturbating with your panties.
Minors DNI
Warnings: Smut, Taboo themes, nicknames like stepbrother, p in v, light fingering, masturbating with panties, dirty talk.
A/N: This story is forbidden.
Masterlist
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You’re officially a Cameron, a family you didn’t want to be a part of. 
   Ward Cameron is the devil himself, and his son couldn’t have been any worse. “Do you always dress like a slut?” He mumbled, watching your fork drop too loudly on the white plate, and you turned your head, looking at him with your mouth open and offended. “Didn’t know wearing shorts and a tank top was so slutty, Rafe.” You announced to the table, a cheap smile, making way while everyone tenses up. Rafe could only think of the many ways to use your mouth, how good your full red lips would look around his cock or the way your breast bounced when you walked around the house in a little tank top, leaving little to his imagination of what it would look like thrown onto his bedroom floor. 
   It wasn’t that you hated Rafe because you didn’t. Rafe was everything he shouldn’t have been in your eyes. First was his cold blue gaze, like you were under a microscope and the only person he could focus on most days, leaving your body warm and lustful, wishing for nothing but his lips on you. There are too many moments when he’d lay his veiny hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down painfully slow or accidentally grazing his thumb against your nipple, and he’d constantly whisper dirty things in your ear. Every word and touch was electricity.
   “Mom, Ward? Sarah?” You called out, tossing your keys onto the marble counter. When you didn’t get a response, you guessed no one was home, considering the large house was so quiet you could faintly hear a buzzing noise. You began, walking upstairs to your room before ceasing any motion because such sounds as moans were coming from your room. You twisted the silver door handle, opening the door quietly. Your forest green eyes widened at the sight of your stepbrother Rafe. Even if you made a noise, you doubted he would’ve heard. 
   Rafe’s eyes were closed, his head was thrown back, his face sweaty, his shorts dropped to your bedroom floor, and his boxers pushed down his firm thighs. He had your white lace panties wrapped around his cock, leaking with pre-cum, but his tip was still red as ever, waiting to be touched by someone that wasn’t himself. Eventually, you made your way to the bed; despite the mattress falling into your weight, he still didn’t notice until your smooth hands rubbed his thighs and removed his hands with yours. “I knew you were good for something.” As always, Rafe had to be arrogant. You gripped his erection tighter, realizing you’d been missing these panties for a month, stained with his cum. He hisses. “I didn’t realize you were going through my drawers and coming in my underwear.” You say while kissing his neck and your hand, speeding up, your panties already wet by Rafe. 
   This was wrong. You shouldn’t want to fuck your insanely hot stepbrother. It was forbidden and heavily looked down upon. “You like this, getting your stepbrother off and letting me cum in your panties.” He turned his head to look back at you, voice condescending, but his mouth was parted, and his lips curved upwards, waiting for yours to do the same like he knew you would. Instead, you grabbed onto his shoulders, pushing him back onto the mattress and then getting, swinging your leg to the other side of his thigh, so now you’re straddling him. You let him unbutton your denim shorts and take off your underwear.
   “I’ve thought about this for so long.” Then, you kiss Rafe; all that was there was lust and desire to be filled by one another. He runs his calloused hands under your top. His fingers pinching your perky nipples, and his hands curving and kneading your soft breasts. Rafe agrees, pulling your top off rather violently. You grind your bare pussy onto his painfully-looking erection that doesn’t seem to be, calming down anytime soon. He pulls off his shirt, showing his defined abs that make you feel like you’d burst.
   Rafe trails his fingers from over the curve of your breast to your pussy and glides his middle fingers along your slit. Rafe’s face is amused by your neediness and the fact you’re already wet, and he didn’t touch you nonetheless; Rafe pushes his middle finger into you, and your eyes roll back, unwarranted by the needed touch after so many months of teasing. “No one's home, right?” He asks, sliding his ring finger inside you as you shake your head quickly. His free hand grabs your face, forcing you to look into his piercing blue eyes. He pulls you in for a quick and hard kiss. “Such a slut for your stepbrother. Do you like getting fingered, hmm? I can’t explain how fucked out you look already, and we haven’t even started.” He says cunningly, his voice breathy and low, pushing you over the edge of release. Uncontrollable moans pour out from your lips as Rafe gently lets go of your face. Unfortunately, you don’t get enough time to recover when Rafe flips you onto your back, pressing into the velvety fabric of your bed. 
   Unprompted, Rafe thrusts into you. “Fuck- Rafe.” You cover your mouth quickly to stop the overflowing cries that cannot discontinue. Rafe intertwines your hands, pushing them to the sides of your head, and his thrust doesn’t get any slower instead, they become more rapid and rough. Each one hits new angles and derives a new noise you didn’t even know you could make. Every thrust is deep and propels your mind to the stars. Rafe shoves two of his fingers into your mouth, and you suck on them, swirling your tongue over every inch, tasting yourself, but his actions only drive you further into the way his dick curves you perfectly with each bottomless movement. 
   He grunts, takes his fingers out of your mouth and leans his head into the crook of your neck; hearing your moans so clearly has his head spinning. “You feel so fucking good. You know that?” More curses follow. You clench around him, head pushing into your bed, eyes closing quickly, and finally in a haze of pleasure as your legs shake uncontrollably. 
   Rafe thrusts once more into you, spilling his warm cum. He doesn’t pull out but instead kisses your swollen lips. “I like this already.” He says tiredly, giving you light kisses each second that you take greedily. 
   Your bodies are sweaty and slick against each other, leading you both into the shower. Rafe was more than soft with you since being tired, but that didn’t stop him from not touching you.
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hanggarae · 6 months
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౨ৎ sabotaged date
requested by anon congrats on 1k!!! could i request wonwoo+friends to lovers(something like she fell first but he fell harder kinda trope?) for the milestone event~
thank u sm!!! <33 i hope u enjoy this!!
wonwoo x f!reader, fluff, part of 1k event, 1.2k words
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“and you’re crying about this to me because?” jeonghan’s bored voice stretched in your ears, clearly tired of the conversation that you had with him monthly for the last two years.
“because you’re wonwoo’s friend!” you said pointedly while waving your spoon at him.
“so are you!” he argued back. “look, if you didn’t want him to go on that stupid date, why didn’t you just tell him that?”
you rolled your eyes, as if it was really that easy. “oh yeah and then what should i say when he asks why i’m being an obsessive weirdo, huh?”
you first met wonwoo a little over two years ago after your friend seungcheol introduced him to your friend group. and it’s been two years since you’ve had the worst crush ever on him.
he was insanely attractive and such a sweet person it was difficult to not have a thing for him honestly.
“how do i tell him that i don’t want him to go on a date?” jeonghan sighed, “he’s gonna think that i have the thing for him!”
looking at you for a few more seconds jeonghan sighed again in defeat. “alright fine, but i can’t do this forever you know? and don’t you think it’s a little selfish? you keep coming in the way of wonwoo finding someone but won’t ever confess to him”
when you didn’t respond after a few seconds, jeonghan figured you never would and took it as his cue to leave.
you understood his point, how could you not? but confessing to him was easier said than done. he wasn’t very expressive when it came to relationships, so you really couldn’t tell is he felt even a little of what you felt for him.
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“hey wonwoo, you still going on that date this friday?” doyoung asked him.
“huh? i was planning to but jeonghan told me that he needed help with moving or something like that? i don’t know i’m gonna try talking to her about it” wonwoo furrowed his brows, recalling the call jeonghan woke him up for at 2 am last night for.
“weird” doyoung chuckled, “oh! if jeonghan needs help let him know i’m free too, besides yn’ll probably be there too”
wonwoo noticed the bashful blush painting his friends face when he mentioned your name. “what’s the difference if yn’s there?”
doyoung looked almost offended at his friends statement, looking at him in shock.
“yn’s great” doyoung laughed but quickly became frantic to explain himself, “not like that or anything! she’s great and all but i don’t want to date her! trust me!”
weird. why’d he have to explain that to wonwoo? it’s not like he cared.
“i know you guys have something going on but trust me i don’t think of yn like that don’t beat me up” doyoung breathed, picking one of the books from the library shelf, muttering something about the publication date under his breath.
“what thing do-” wonwoo was cut off by doyoung’s phone going off, the latter quickly saying goodbye before answering soonyoung’s call.
what thing? surely doyoung didn’t think that wonwoo was dating you. to wonwoo, you were amazing, but he doesn’t think he’s ever thought of you that way.
you were always really sweet to him though. always grabbing him an extra snack from that cafe near campus and always refusing when he offered to pay you back. always making him laugh when he was down. always making sure he was heard when more than 13 voices got too loud.
now that he thinks about it you weren’t like that with anyone else. not being like that with soonyoung he could understand, but surely jihoon or jun deserved the treatment too, right?
the more he thinks about you treating jihoon specially too though the more he gets mad, and why are the pages of the book he was holding getting crumpled now?
and why’s he imagining punching jun in the face if you ever gave him snacks like you did for wonwoo? or if you smiled at jun the way you did to wonwoo? that sweet smile where your eyes start to crinkle and makes wonwoo-
‘am i getting a fever or something?’ wonwoo thought to himself when he felt his face grow warmer.
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when wonwoo got to the place that jeonghan texted him he was confused when all the lights were off. he looked around before knocking the door and he heard some noise behind it before it clicked open.
“can you help me?” he heard someone call out.
wonwoo looked over the room before his eyes set on the step ladder and then eventually you standing on it.
“oh wonwoo hey!” you smiled at him. wonwoo’s face grew warmer again- he really should grab some meds or something. “basically, the power cut off and i’m trying to see which wire will get it to turn back on”
“i tried calling the repairman but he wouldn’t pick up, think you can help me?” you asked him steadying yourself on the ladder.
it was hard to find your balance so wonwoo quickly walked over to hold it steady while you climbed off. nodding at the small ‘thanks’ you said under your breath.
“i’ll try taking a look but if we can’t get it to work i say we get out of here before jeonghan can blame us” wonwoo smiled at your laugh.
after a few minutes and wonwoo messing around with the different fuses the lights eventually started to flicker back on.
“by the way, why’d you mention jeonghan just now?” you asked him, still happy that you didn’t have to pay the repairman.
“this is jeonghan’s place?” wonwoo looked at you confused. was he missing something?
“jeonghan’s? this is mine” you chuckled, “why would you think it’s jeonghan’s? he still lives with seokmin”
“oh? he told me to cancel the date because he needed help moving and then he sent me this address?” wonwoo started to open the text from your mutual friend.
you looked at wonwoo embarrassed, cheeks growing warmer at his confusion. “yeah about that..”
“so you basically sabotaged me for a year?” wonwoo laughed.
“don’t say it like that!” you groaned hiding your face behind your hands, “it wasn’t sabotage it was..” wonwoo laughed harder when you groaned again.
he inched closer, slowly moving your hands from your face. “you know.. the other day at the library i realised something. doyoung thought that we had something going on-”
“you and doyoung?”
“what- no me and you!”
“oh”
“anyway” wonwoo sighed, “at first when he said it i was a little confused, i’d never thought of you that way”
“but..” he continued after seeing your dejected face, “the more i started to think about it, i really like having you in my life. and not just in a way that i like having the rest of our friends. i wouldn’t ever feel like this about the others, and i think i’d be really sad if you thought about anyone else like that too”
“so what does this mean?” you asked him after a few seconds of silence, not wanting to get ahead of yourself.
“it means” wonwoo dragged the sentence, “that you shouldn’t even think about sabotaging my date next week. because i doubt you’d want to ruin your own date”
431 notes · View notes
blasphemecel · 3 months
Text
Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Dog Walking
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 3.2k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting (it's so bad I don't know if i can call it flirting in good faith), Bad matchmaking (there was an attempt), Rivalry WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, canon-typical behavior EDIT: This got a continuation, yay. And an add-on
Kaiser got it in his head that he has taken a liking to you. This is great and all, not like Ness is gritting his teeth and clenching his fists and getting angry or anything, but- okay, he is.
An obvious reason for his displeasure would be jealousy, but that’s not quite it. Ness thinks it would be entitled and insolent of him to feel any type of way about Kaiser’s personal affairs, so he hasn’t even entertained the notion. The problem is entirely different.
Just like everyone else in Blue Lock, you’re… Kaiser-opposed? Is that the right way to word it? Anyway, the point is, your shitty personality is making his job really hard. Which leads the three of you to this current situation.
“Ow! Ness, what the hell is your problem?!” you shriek, after having tripped and fell. The only reason your face isn’t attached to the floor fight now is because you softened the blow with your elbow.
“I didn’t mean it- I’m so sorry!”
“You didn’t mean it? You literally did it on purpose.”
This isn’t how it should’ve played out, though.
You were supposed to fall right into Kaiser’s arms, but you landed about a step away from him. They even practiced this routine with the others! Granted, no one agreed to it and was rather subjected to it whenever in Ness and Kaiser’s general vicinity, and, no, it didn’t work all the time, but they were just getting the hang of it. (Thankfully, no one sustained any serious injuries, apart from bearing some mental scars after hearing Kaiser say ‘Don’t go falling for me now’ in a wannabe suave tone.)
“Yeah, Ness, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Kaiser adds, before moving to crouch down and help you with a smidge of concern in his expression.
Ness’s eyes widen at the betrayal. Kaiser is such a fake bitch sometimes. Not like he’s going to do anything about it, or even that he minds, but seriously? No shame or decorum is on display here.
You don’t buy it, slapping his hands away. “I bet you put him up to it,” you say, before standing up all by yourself. Then you twist your leg around back and forth for a bit, as if to check how well it’s working, before you eventually lift it high up in the air. “Listen, you tie-dyed toerags.”
Ness flinches because what kind of way to address someone is this? Kaiser crosses his arms, shiteating grin receding into a little frown.
“I’m at my most divine when scoring a goal. You see this?” Your foot is now hovering near their faces while you stretch. This… What is it? A flex? A display? Whatever it is that you’re doing right now, Ness finds it unnerving. “It’s what I use to score. If you did something to take that ability away from me, you’d get pretty bad karma, you know? Angels would cry. Believe me.”
Ness tugs on Kaiser’s sleeve — to remind him he’s supposed to respond instead of just stare at you with a blank, creepy look on his face — and, as filler, says, “You’re very, um, flexible.”
“Yeah,” you say, moving into an even more convoluted position. “I have many attractive qualities. Deserving of being a superstar ace, you know? Dump Kaiser. Pass to me. You’re way too good to play second fiddle, Ness. With me, you won’t be stuck in a Tweedlecum and Tweedlepee dynamic.”
“What?! You- you- you, you, you, yooooou-?! What are you talking about?! I’d never betray him! I’m not joining your circus, clown! Unbelievable! Learn your place already. You never learn,” Ness says in a jumble. For some reason, he’s more offended than Kaiser is.
Here’s the thing about you — you’re insane. A has-an-interesting-psychological-file type of crazy. A hollow-inner-world type of crazy.
A Ness-loves-it type of crazy, as objectionable as he is acting to your offer.
“Calm down. No need to get your panties in a twist over some shitty trash talk,” says Kaiser, placing his hand on Ness’s head, forcing him to lower himself in a slight bow in front of you. Finally, you quit your bizarre movements and assume a more proper stance, while Kaiser leans in closer to you, shifting his gaze in your direction. This leaves Ness to watch you two engage in a round of charged glaring… again. Which is always compromising, but then Kaiser has to run his fingers through his hair, too. “You’re just like a chihuahua that hasn’t warmed up to its owner yet. Your barking doesn’t faze me.”
Your eye twitches at the analogy, face scrunching in an ugly way. “The hell did you just say to me? If I catch you somewhere Ego can’t see me, I’ll give you the beating of a lifetime.”
Instead of responding in a normal way, Kaiser points his finger in your face, almost poking you, twirls it around in a circle, which makes you furrow your brows even harder if possible as you scrutinize him like he’s a lower life form.
“See? Doesn’t bite. Totally harmless,” Kaiser says with a lilt of amusement. Then he swings an arm around Ness’s shoulders and turns him around before pulling him along so they can get away from you.
His tone is convincing enough to give off the impression of winning this verbal spat. However, Ness can’t help but notice that they’re speed walking.
___
When Ness turns around, you’re leaning on the bench with your foot, elbow resting on your knee. He lets out an undignified scream, taking a step back, startled, and even drops his water bottle. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! How come you didn’t make a noise? What are you?”
Kaiser regards the commotion with not even a sliver of curiosity and instead grins after nodding at you in greeting. “Look who came crawling back searching for my company, Ness.”
“I was thinking about that stuff you told me yesterday,” you say.
“Really? And what thrilling conclusion did you come to?” he asks, with sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘thrilling.’
“I’m going to spend my points from goals on taking a day off. Come along with me and we’re gonna fight, preferably in front of a big audience that can watch me humiliate you. By the way, it's a duel, so you can’t decline.”
“Wow, you’re asking me out on a date? Since when are you so adorable? I guess I just can’t reject you when you’re being vulnerable.”
“No one likes delusional men, Kaiser. I’d rather embalm myself and then desecrate my own corpse.”
Kaiser appears to find this amusing or in some way adjacent to flirting because his smile becomes a touch more irritating, but also a bit incredulous. “Crazy fucking bastard. You’ve got unique ways of pretending you’re not into me, though. It’s entertaining.”
“Your mouth is like a dirty urinal. You swear like a preteen who just found out what sixty-nine means, worry about that.”
Kaiser stares at you in shock, jaw hanging slightly open. In your head, you consider this a huge win, since it’s the first time you’ve visibly put him off.
“Keep gaping at me, I might just take a piss.”
“H-How dare you?!” Ness lunges at you, and the only thing to stop him from strangling you on live television — sensational, you like it — is the fact that Kaiser is holding him back by the collar. You find the sight of him swiping his fists in the air vaguely adorable. “How can you say these things? Just in general, let alone to Kaiser?”
You observe him in mild surprise for a second and the sincerity in your expression makes it all the more infuriating when you ask, “Oh, you’re still here?”
___
For once in his life, Ness is being very assertive. At least that’s what you think while he drags you over to their side of the cafeteria, fingers curling tight enough around your wrist to probably disturb your blood circulation.
Kaiser pulls out a chair for you when you come into view, then Ness shoves you so you’re sitting, and Kaiser pushes it back in, causing you to almost double over the table. Ness slides over some kind of fancy meal you can’t even identify in front of you. Kaiser leans down, his hair brushing against you, and then he reaches around your shoulder to aggressively stab one of the slices with a fork. With a perhaps demented smile, he declares, “We’re going to talk about strategy today,” before taking the seat next to yours.
“We’re not going to talk about strategy because I’m not one of your groupies,” you say, picking up on the conversation with ease.
Ness plops down on your other side, apparently having decided he has enough authority to lecture you. “No, no, no! This isn’t working. Isagi does whatever he wants, Kunigami does whatever he wants, you do whatever you want. It’s pure chaos on the field! No synergy! It doesn’t make any sense!”
“Join us. If you’re not following,” Kaiser adds, his arm finally receding away from you, “this is a compliment. You’re the one best suited for me, which is a big honor.”
“I have a way better idea. How about I continue doing whatever I want, and by the end of this Neo Egotist League ordeal, you two and everyone else you mentioned sing my name in a choir?”
“Ungrateful,” Ness mutters, petulant.
Kaiser grins, mocking, but also intrigued. “Are you still hanging onto the high of that goal against Barcha? Your ego is unhinged and, honestly, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your type is always the most fun to break.”
Like he’s any different?
The score you landed, though — the one Kaiser is referencing — was what sparked his interest. You jumped in and stole the pass Isagi meant for Kunigami, securing the point right under their noses. Then, you faced Kaiser and took him by the chin like he’d done to Isagi on arrival, and even imitated his introduction, “On your knees, Bastard München,” with inconceivable amounts of smugness.
It was… interesting. Outlandish. A first. Ness berated you and Isagi together, but you kind of walked away in the middle of it without a care.
Here’s the other detail which is keeping Ness’s sanity intact (not like he’s renowned for his mental stability, but): Kaiser taking a liking to you isn’t necessarily a good thing, even if he’s treating you differently than the other competitors. It doesn’t say anything positive about your character, isn’t in any way sentimental — it’s more as if someone held up a mirror in front of him and he began obsessing over his reflection.
“I’m big and you’re small. That’s why you can’t tame me,” you say.
“He’s taller than you!” Ness defends.
“Did the voices in your head tell you that?” Kaiser asks you, and he does not acknowledge Ness’s meager attempt to upkeep his honor.
“I mean it. You think you can brute force everything and bend it to your version of reality. That’s fragile. I don’t mind falling from a high place. It kind of appeals to me, actually, you know, crawling back up, but more beautiful.”
The corners of his lips turn up in a manner you interpret as more baleful than usual. “I don’t know if you’re big or if I’m small or whatever you wanna call it, but what I know for sure is that you’re a melodramatic jerk off.”
“Anyway,” you stand up, taking the plate as you do so, “you don’t think often, so I won’t blame you for calling my internal monologue a hallucination. You can’t help it. Bye.”
___
The locker room is an environment you find ripe for picking fights in. Especially when everyone is tired after a practice match. At least the place is free of anyone besides your usual targets.
“Ness,” you say upon approaching them — they’re always together, it almost seems codependent — and then take a hold of his hand, all beguiling. Kaiser scoffs, apparently not interested in getting into it with you this once, while Ness stares at you doe-eyed. “I think it’s about time you get some dignity.”
“What kind of opening line is that?!” he asks, expression shifting from bashful to irritated.
“He’s just been even more awful to you lately and you’re still attached to his asshole like you’re a part of the human centipede.”
“You made fun of me for swearing, but look at the shit you’re saying right now.”
“I do it sparingly and with style. Please stop trying to compete where you don’t compare.” After a dismissive glance towards Kaiser, you turn your attention back to Ness, letting go of his hand to wrap an arm around his waist. “Anyway, the point is, he’s not acting very appreciative of your talent. I could treat you so much better if you passed to me. We don’t even need to entirely exclude him or anything, I’m a tolerant person.”
“I can see and appreciate Ness’s talent just fine. He’ll stay by my side no matter what.” Ness blushes because that’s kind of an intense statement to make out of nowhere? Kaiser’s fingers curl around his jawline before he pushes Ness’s head into his shoulder. “And I’m going to add you to the roster while I’m at it.”
What the fuck is even going on? Maybe the delusions of grandeur you and Kaiser seem to suffer from are becoming contagious, but it sounds like you two are fighting… over HIM? A more well-adjusted person would probably find this objectifying or otherwise demeaning, but Ness, mostly because of who he is — terminally unwanted — wonders if he’s in heaven right now.
Then again, Ness isn’t an idiot. His ignorance is willful. There’s a cap to the nonsense even he is willing to tolerate. So he lets this feeling of I’ve-never-been-happier linger for a little, your bickering fading into background noise, before he squirms away from both of you.
“I’m tired of how you guys are acting,” he calls over his shoulder.
Kaiser is gawking again. You let out an amused whistle, as if you find this development pleasing, before forcing Kaiser’s jaw closed.
“Don’t talk to me… for the rest of the day,” Ness continues, before leaving. His resolve ends on a weak note, but oh well.
“What the hell? Did Ness just reject me?” Kaiser asks, slapping off your pesky hand. “First you don’t want me, now even Ness doesn’t want me. I’m sick of this wretched place. Everything is all out of whack here.”
You burst out laughing. “Are your sensitive little feelings unable to handle a few hours without him?”
“Shut up,” says Kaiser. There isn’t enough bite in it.
“I can tell whatever tantrum you’re about to have is gonna give me secondhand embarrassment, so I’m gonna go as well.”
You’re not prepared for Kaiser to slam you into the locker and cage you in with his arms. Some vein you don’t know the name of looks very pronounced on his forehead, and you don’t think it’s supposed to be doing that?
You roll your eyes. “Take the hint, your machismo shtick isn’t doing it for me.”
“I’m not trying to make a move on you, shithead. I’m sick of your outrageous attitude as well. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re always leaving in the middle of conversations, even ones you initiated. Do you know how rude that is? No one ever taught you some fucking manners? What’s your home life like?”
Ignoring whatever he’s even talking about — it’s going in one ear and out of the other as usual — you trail your hands over his shoulders.
“Stop trying to distract me. I’m listing out all of your personality defects.” He’s not really putting up a fight, though, doesn’t even shrug you off when you move onto caressing his neck. “We’re arguing,” Kaiser says, before leaning in to complete the kiss you were trying to pull him into, and finally his hands drop to rest on your waist.
The contact doesn’t last long, since you take the chance to side step him and swap your positions, before you push him into the locker like he’d done to you.
“Little bitch,” you say with a sneer, and then you dash towards the exit, offering a flippant wave. “I leave whenever I want to.”
What the hell!
___
“You’re unforgivable!” says Ness. What did you even do to deserve this attitude right before breakfast? “Stop messing with Kaiser’s head!”
Oh yeah, you did do that. You almost forgot.
“Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?”
Ness crosses his arms and taps his foot. He’s not very good at being intimidating, at least in a visual sense, you think. He has a total babyface. “You’re going to apologize. You’re gonna grovel for Kaiser’s forgiveness.”
“Sure, I take hurt feelings very seriously. Answer these questions for me, so I can apologize better later. Which ear were the words of hurtfulness spoken into? Is the damage he suffered permanent? Did he require a tissue for his tears?”
“I- I- I- I?!?! You piss me off so much. I don’t have the patience for this.” Ness pinches the bridge of his nose as if he needs to soothe himself after exchanging a couple of sentences with you.
“If he doesn’t have a mommy to hug him,” you continue without much of an inflection, “we can look for a surrogate.”
With uncharacteristic vice, he squeezes your shoulders, and he’s gritting his teeth, and you think he really might kill you. Maybe not right now, but at some point, this man is going to take your life. “What’s your problem? You’re a nobody, so why are you so high maintenance? Kaiser is rich, handsome, successful, and a football genius. What more could you possibly want in a boyfriend?”
“Wow,” you say, astonishment at something indeterminate apparent on your face.
Ness waits for you to elaborate, but you don’t, instead opting to scrutinize him in silence. “What? Don’t just say wow and then leave it at that. How can someone be so difficult?”
Your expression shifts into something meaner, then, a mocking raise of your eyebrows, a lop-sided but meaningless smile. “It’s just kind of amazing. You can’t help but ride Kaiser’s dick even while trying to guide it inside of me.”
“Wh-huh… What?!” Ness screeches, scandalized. “How… How crude? You're a vulgar moron! Totally indecent! That’s what you are!”
“I mean, can you blame me for being jealous of that kind of attention? You can do crazy tricks on it.”
“Why are you saying those kinds of things to me?! S-Something’s not right with you.”
You reach out and squish Ness’s cheeks together, leaving his lips to pucker, and you can feel his skin burning. “You’re an amusing guy, Ness. I haven’t decided if I find you pathetic or endearing yet, but I like it.” Then you let go of him as casually as you grabbed him, intending to continue on your merry way.
There are footsteps hurrying after you. “Admit your love to Kaiser already.”
Love? A frightening laugh rattles you. Your body jerks upright and you feel like an evil spirit was just exorcised out of you with how unexpected your reaction was, even to you.
“I know you can’t resist his charms. No one can.”
Kaiser’s… charms? You knew it, he’s trying to kill you.
“And- and- and!!! You’re going to play on our side against Ubers, and you’re going to like it.”
You’re borderline in hysterics now, stomach hurting.
“Stop walking away from me! Are you even listening? You should really listen when people talk to you!”
___
Im still loopy so presented without comment. Feel free to tell me wat you thikn the worst line from this abomination is
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alottiegoingon · 12 days
Text
golden rule
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lucy maclean x gn!reader
summary: you become lucy's only friend in wasteland.
warnings: weapon usage/mentions, brief blood mention, wasteland and life outside the vault, lucy is naive and oblivious at first and a hot mess later, mostly just fluff, golden retriever lucy & black cat reader type of shit, kinda enemies/strangers to secret in lover with each other, reader is hot i wanna date them but also a loser if you see through them, no nsfw, not proofread
"just give it a thought, alright? we could help each other."
"why would i want you for a company? no offense, princess, but i don't associate with vault dwellers." you take a look at her from head to toes, studying the details in her jumper. despite how cool her pistol looked attached to her belt like that, the yellow and blue choice was kind of goofy, you thought.
you can see the excitement in her eyes disappearing as she hears you and you almost felt sorry for her. almost. "okay, ouch." she tilts her head, crossing her arms. in a second, her dramatic act gave place to a smug smile. "oh, i know! what if i help you to find the head?"
even your own bitterness left your soul as you hear her. you pause for a moment, searching for any sign of unseriousness in her face. maybe it was just a bad joke? but then, she keeps staring at you with those huge eyes and a not so subtle smile, proud of what she had said.
"i'm sorry, a head? you mean someone's head?" you frown. "i don't know what you vault people think of us but i'm not a monster." you weren't really offended, but seeing the panic in her face was actually princeless.
"what? no, no! i was just- everyone wants that head and i thought you-" she starts to ramble, not wanting to offend you. her beam went away as fast as it reached her face. you almost felt bad for her twice in a row now.
you couldn't hold yourself back anymore and allowed a smirk to creep onto your lips. she immediately stopped talking and, even though she exhaled relief, you knew that deep down she wanted to kill you but was too kind for that.
"oh. you were messing with me. funny." she gives you a forced dry laugh. it was actually annoying how she tried to be so nice all the time.
as a response, you give her a nonchalant wry smile. "anyway. i'm not looking for a dog right now, so..." you sigh, reaching for the heavy backpack on the floor and sliding it onto your shoulders. "but good luck with the head or whatever it means." you wink at the stranger and turn around to leave.
"wait! please." she grabs your wrist before you could take the first step and in response, you turn around again impatiently, glancing down at her tight grip on your skin. it takes her a while to realize that she's still holding you but as soon as she does, she immediately looks at your wrist as well and let go of it. "sorry." she whispers.
you were ready to interrupt her but, curiously, you felt bad when seeing how insanely desperate she was. it wouldn't hurt to just hear what the had to say, right?
"i've been having a rough week, okay? everyone i've met tried to kill me, except for you. a weird..." she pauses, thinking "robot, or whatever, tried to harvest my organs out and i had to cut someone's head off. and i may not be the strongest or the most experienced person but i can learn!" she was truly putting on her best show while you stood in front of her completely unbothered. at least, you liked to think that you were a complete fearless and tough person. "just... please?"
against all odds, you didn't deny it immediately. and, if you didn't deny it immediately, you knew what it meant. fuck, when did you become such a softie? it could be, of course, the way her hair looked pretty even in a messy ponytail or how the cut on her lip made her look so incredibly ho-
"okay, fine. whatever." that idiot creepy huge smile of hers spread on her face again before you could even finish. "listen up, i'm not done." you roll your eyes. "we'll do things my way, get it? you speak when i speak, you shoot when i shoot, you walk when i walk." you take steps closer to her while you talk. firm, hoarse and assertive tone. you stop when you feel the tip of her nose almost touching yours, keeping the steady the eye contact intact. you were so busy initimidating her that you don't even notice when she hold her breath.
"you are my shadow." you reach up for her face, cupping her chin with your thumb and index finger, forcing her to look back at you. "you don't exist unless i tell you to. do you understand me?" you stated with a piercing gaze.
you thought it was impossible for her eyes to get any bigger but when you step out of your scary platform, you notice her terrified expression. "okey dokey..." she nods frantically.
you gotta admit it. she didn't seem as goofy as before while paying attention to you so devotedly like that. even when still wearing that ridiculous jumper.
eventually, you realize that your eyes were betraying you by staring at her for a little too long. you clean your throat, trying to cover that up. "good. let's go now. we can't stay here forever." you step back and start to walk away, not even waiting for her to join you.
you hear her hasty footsteps getting closer as she tries to catch up to you until she finally shares your pace. "i'm lucy, by the way. lucy maclean." she held her head high, corners of her mouth going up again. god, she smiled a lot.
"good for you. i'm still gonna call you princess, though."
"not to brag, cause that would be impolite of me, but i found a really cool place when i was looking for a river this morning." lucy's smiling from ear to ear and excitedly rocking from side to side is the first thing you see when you open your eyes after a tough night of sleep.
a week had passed since you met lucy. no matter how tough you considered yourself to be, lucy was persistent, charming, sweet and funny enough to make her way to your heart and you knew that you were doomed. deep down, you were suspicious that she knew that as well.
"why are you always so happy?" you groan, rubbing your eyes. unlike lucy, you were not a morning person. or a night person. or any time of the day person.
"good morning to you too, sunshine!"
you are forced to get up, not being actually opposed to it, and take a short sip from your last water bottle. maybe taking a look at lucy's oh so great place would be useful.
"okay then. let's do it, princess." you use your hands to brush the remains of sand and dust out of your pants but lucy's cute giggle prevents you from heading out of the shelter you had found.
lucy approaches you with her usual polite and sweet grin and you unconsciously flinch as she stops just a few inches from you and touch you. predictable, she was gentle while brushing the top of your hair with her fingers, fixing the bundle of messy strands that merged together while you were sleeping and added a funny volume to your head. you follow every move of her with darting eyes and an uncontrollable urge to admire her green eyes focused on your hair and reddish parted lips.
"there you go. pretty as always." lucy coos and before withdrawing herself, her fingers slid down by a few inches and casually tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. for the first time in ages, you froze.
thankfully, lucy didn't seem to notice how affected you were by her innocent act. "thanks." you whispered in a ridiculously soft grin and followed her out of the shelter.
"why do you have a gun if you don't like using it? that's stupid." you tease lucy while you two walked side by side, following the train track to the place she had mentioned.
"i do use it. just when i have no other option. you know, because of the golden rule." she shrugs, proudly, proceeding to explain it to you.
you really tried to not care or call it dumb, but instead, you snorted in amusement. "you are way too naive, you know that?"
a dilapidated house.
lucy's incredible and cool place was nothing but a whole junk. everything was falling apart and, judging by how empty it was, many others were there before you.
"it looked cool from the outside..." she explains herself while scratching the back of her neck.
you were strong. firm. scary and ruthless even. you would shove a knife on anybody's throat if they wasted your time like that, especially after a terrible night of sleep. but, again, it wasn't anybody. it was her.
so, funny or not, you laughed.
"god, you are such a terrible explorer." you take a quick peek at her with the corner of your eyes, wearing an idiotic and foolish smirk on your lips.
"i am not!" her jaw drops and her voice sounds whinier as she defends herself but giggle along with you, not feeling scared to be vulnerable and fully stare at you.
you didn't have to answer to that. all you did was look back and forth at her and the house, proving your point.
"okay, you got me there." she looks down, dramatically pouting and pretending to feel so insulted. "but at least i made you smile. looks good on you." lucy's lips twitch in a shy grin.
"maybe i should smile more, then. if you like it." you boldly murmur, surprised at yourself for saying that. you could swear that lucy's face got almost entirely red but you didn't have enough time to appreciate it or figure if it was real.
"look at those cute lovebirds. love has returned to wasteland, gentlemen." a tall, sturdy middle-aged man mocks you to two other creepy looking guys. one was even missing an eye. in two seconds, you were able to count how many weapons they had and your first thought was the possibility of lucy getting hurt.
you quickly stood in front of her, shielding her from any kind of possible danger.
everthing happened too fast after that. all you remember is denying their offer to take your backpacks with the remains of food and water you had and all of your weapons.
everything went black for a second as your body hit the ground. you slowly manage to get on your knees and look around but lucy isn't there and you are trapped. you feel a sharp pain as you breathe in and a drop of blood hits your pants. you shudder at the moment you cautiously feel your cheek, warm to the touch and stinging like you were poked by a thousand needles. your fingertips carefully drop to your mouth and you hiss as you touch the wide cut on your swollen lower lip.
you notice the crisp click of the gun's trigger being released and you look up, expecting to see the weapon pointed at your head. instead, you see the men with their hands above their heads.
"get away from them!" lucy's voice fills your ears and you turn your head back to find her with a huge weapon in hands pointed at the strangers. she takes a quick glance at you and you see the anger inside her overflow as she notices your wounds.
"i'm gonna count to three and i want your ugly, filthy and miserable roaches out of my face or... or i'll shoot!" judging by her tone, you can easily notice how nervous she is even though she's trying her best to actually stand up for you.
and the thought of being protected by someone made your heart flutter. you weren't bothered by the aching pain in your lip when you found yourself proudly smiling at her.
the big guy seemed to notice the tension in her voice and took a step closer to you. you could only imagine how badly he had regretted that as soon as a loud bang echoed through the entire house and his foot was hanging by a thread, quite too literally.
"oh, golly..." lucy mutters with widen eyes. you follow her shock with a gasp that was completely muffled by the loud and agonized screech.
"don't make me repeat myself! all of you out, now!" she yells, threatening them by aiming the gun at them once more. "if that's okay with you, please." the scary expression in her face swiftly changed to a well-mannered and soft grin.
the injured men is rushedly dragged out by the other two, not looking back and you can not believe that someone as adorable looking as lucy was the one to broke her dear rule and hurt people.
"thank you! t-take care." she waves at them innocently, still with the gun in hands before running to you.
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