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d10nyx · 5 months

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can't fight this feeling

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, stepcest, panty stealing, non-con, somnophilia, perv leon, p in v, creampie, voyeurism, brief mention of baby-trapping, just general creepy behaviour from leon, photos and videos taken w/o permission

a/n: this is basically just creepy stepbrother leon. he's real weird and kind of an incel lmao. definitely written with re2r leon in mind. mentions of him being a police officer. the raccoon city incident never happened in this!!

word count: 1.8k words

Leon had never been the best with girls. It wasn't his fault - really! He just had a habit of coming off a little creepy, definitely came on too strong when he was trying to ask girls out. He fell hard and fast, convinced he was in love with a girl if she was so much as nice to him.

He'd been rejected more times than he could count, leaving him a little bitter. He's in his twenties, and he hadn't even had his first kiss. It was fine… totally fine. He wasn't mad about it at all. Women just didn't understand how nice he was. He'd treat his girlfriend so good if a girl would just give him a chance!

He's started to give up on his exploits, coming to terms with the fact he'd probably just die a virgin. That is, until he's blessed with a miracle. Must be divine intervention, he can't believe he got this lucky. His dad ends up telling him he's getting married to the woman he's been seeing for a while, and drops the fact that she has a daughter that's just a few years younger.

He meets you at the wedding, and he's instantly sure you're the one. He's pretty chill for the first few weeks that you two start living under the same roof, him as your sweet step-brother. He always dotes on you, takes you out for rides in his patrol car and takes you shopping.

He deserves a reward for all of that, right?

Well, he doesn't want to scare you off. Not when you're the first girl to actually give him attention. Doesn't matter if you're his sister now. You're so sweet and cute. His cock throbs every time you smile at him, and he's starting to get used to the perpetual erection he sports in your presence.

He starts off pretty slowly. Offers to help you out with your washing, pocketing a pair of used panties for later and washing the rest of your stuff. Holds them up to his face when he's alone in his room at night, inhaling the scent of you and rubbing his cock raw, cumming over and over until it's practically just water and his dick has friction burn.

The only issue is that once he starts, he finds it hard to stop. It escalates pretty quickly. He starts spying on you in the shower, one hand rubbing his aching cock while the other records you washing yourself. He likes the souvenir, and he needs the material for when he can't sneak in to watch you.

He ends up completely cutting out porn. Why would he need it? He's got enough material of you to keep him busy for a while, and he makes it his passion to gather more. Starts sneaking into your room when you're sleeping just to slip your panties to the side and get some close-up shots of your fat, juicy pussy.

Another problem that arises is that he keeps getting bolder. You've almost caught him so many times, and he knows he has to move quickly before you catch on. He flirts with you jokingly a few times, pushing down the anger that bubbles in his chest when you make a remark like ‘ewww, you're like, my brother, Lee. That's so gross!’.

Fine. If you didn't want him, he'd take it into his own hands. It was honestly way too easy to slip a sleeping pill into your nighttime tea. You had been living together for a good 6 months now, and you trusted him more than anyone. He smiles sweetly when he brings it to you before bed, ruffling your hair playfully before saying goodnight and heading to his room.

Not that he stays out for long. He's sneaking back into your room a few hours later when he's sure your parents are sleeping. He walks up to your bed, phone in hand - there's no way he's missing out on getting this on camera.

“Hey, sis? You awake?” He asks softly, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you. He grins widely when you don't budge, sleeping peacefully with one of your legs thrown over the cover. He really is so grateful you sleep in nothing but a shirt and panties. Makes this thing a whole lot easier.

His hand reaches out to touch your bare thigh, palm sliding up your soft skin. His blood all rushes to his cock, and it's already twitching eagerly in his sweats, leaking enough pre-cum that a wet spot forms in his boxers.

His eyes stay locked onto your face as his fingers graze your panties. His breath hitches when you let out a deeper breath, and he stills to make sure you're not waking up. When he's sure the coast is clear, he reaches for the hem of them and slides them down your legs carefully, phone camera trained on your legs while his eyes refuse to look away from your face. He can't afford to get caught, not yet.

He's leaky and dripping when he finally gets your panties off. He moved slowly, not willing to risk anything. He's a but bolder now that you're exposed to his eyes, taking in how pretty you are. His breath stutters in his chest, his eyes wide and lips parted.

He dips two of his fingers between your folds and spreads them apart to give him a good look at you. He makes sure his phone stays angled at you, not wanting to miss a second of this. He slides his thumb along your clit clumsily, trying to copy what he saw in a video online one time. He suppresses a whine at how wet it makes you, arousal dripping down and making his thumb all sticky.

He can't wait any longer. He sets his phone down to wriggle out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off and letting them drop to your floor. He settles carefully on the mattress between your legs, gripping your thighs to spread your legs a little wider, careful not to jog you too much.

He moves a hand to the base of his cock so he can position himself at your entrance, his eyes unable to tear away from the sight. He's forgotten about his phone which is still recording face-down in the sheets somewhere. This has all of his attention now.

He can't help but moan as he pushes the tip past your entrance. You gasp softly in your sleep, shifting slightly. He doesn't notice. He also doesn't really care, to be frank. This feels too good to worry about anything else - the way your tight, wet heat engulfs his length inch by inch. He couldn't think about anything else if he tried.

He fills the familiar tightening of his balls as he fully pushes into you, his eyes widening as he moans again, his cock twitching as he cums inside of you. His breath catches in his throat, and he just stares down at you for a few minutes.

“Fuck…” He murmurs, voice cracking slightly. He's still hard - he's not sure he could ever go soft with you wrapped around him so nicely. But he didn't think he'd cum that soon. His cheeks are a bright red, and he's glad he decided it would be better to have his first time while you were asleep. That could have been embarrassing.

He starts shifting his hips, whimpering at the sensitivity he feels from just cumming. His eyes water slightly, but the tears don't fall past his lash line. He has to bite his lip to make sure he doesn't moan too loudly. He couldn't imagine waking you up like this. Or worse, his dad or your mom.

“Mmph… I'm so sorry, sis.” He whimpers as he starts to move faster, his hips rabbiting back and forth. His movements are sloppy and clumsy, every thrust pushing more of his cum out. He can't help but shiver at the sight, quickly fumbling for his phone so he can capture it.

“Couldn't help it.” He says weakly, voice breathy as he continues to fuck you, causing you to rock gently on the mattress. “You look… ah, fuck… so pretty. So nice to me…”

One hand grips your hip to steady your body as the other shakily holds his phone, recording the slip of his cock in your wet pussy. You're dripping all over his length, making the prettiest little gasps and whimpers despite being asleep.

“See baby?” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. He's already close again. Fuck. Why did you have to feel so good?

“Even when you're asleep, your pussy sucks me in… fuck… s'good. Best thing I ever felt…” He whines, thrusting harshly into you now, gripping your hip tight as he stares at the way your face scrunches up, checking for any signs of the pills wearing off.

He cries out your name as he cums again, his brows furrowing as he buries himself to the hilt in your tight cunt, shooting thick ropes of his cum deep inside you. Finds himself hoping you're not on birth control. If he can get you pregnant, you'd have no choice but to be his... right?

He shakes the thought away, pulling out of you with a whimper. He leans down slightly, recording your puffy pussy for a few seconds as his cum starts to drip out before shutting off the phone camera.

He just stares at you for a while as you leak his cum, the sight making him hard all over again. It almost physically pains him to clean it up, but he knows he has to. He can't have you catching on to what he was doing too early. He doesn't want to risk his chances of doing this again.

He cleans you up carefully, making sure that no sign of what happened remains. He pulls your panties back on carefully, patting your ass gently before giving you a loving kiss on the cheek and scrambling off to his room.

He doesn't let out the breath he was holding until he's safely tucked back into bed. He jerks off to the video he took, pouting when he realises he was too distracted to record him sliding in for the first time. He sighs, but continues watching the video, cumming for the third time that night before going to bed.

He can tell you wake up sore the next morning when your brows furrow as you sit at the kitchen counter, confusion written all over your features.

Ever the doting brother, he offers you a sweet smile and slides a cup of tea over to you, tilting his head with feigned curiosity, as if he didn't know exactly what that face was for.

"Everything alright, sis?”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #tw stepcest #stepcest cw #dark content

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wynnyfryd · 7 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 20

part 1 | part 19 | ao3

"Eddie! Hey!" he brightens. Tells himself to take it down a notch; schools his face and voice into something a little less pathetically eager. “What’s up, man?”

“Not much, dude,” Eddie teases, one dimple popping out. He looks good. Dressed up. Red and black flannel with the top buttons undone; light dusting of chest hair on pale skin, the edge of a tattoo Steve’s never seen. He’s got his black leather jacket and black jeans with no holes and black riding boots on. All he’s missing is a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm.

“What’s with the, uh…?” Steve gestures to his outfit, because he realizes he’s sort of just been staring at the dip of his throat. Eddie raises an eyebrow. Steve clarifies, “You got a date or something?”

“Oh, this?” Eddie laughs. “Uh, no. Nope. Can’t say that I do.”

He hops up backward onto the counter, his ass right next to Steve’s elbow, legs dangling over the edge, and he ignores Steve’s protests to get down from there as he leans in to ask in a mischievous hush, “Can you keep a secret?”

Steve’s breath catches in his throat, twists into a bitter twinge of nerves. He can keep a lot of secrets. Maybe he learned that from his dad.

“Yeah…?” He leans in on his elbows.

Eddie moves in closer still, cups his hand around his mouth and whispers, “I totally forgot to do laundry last week.”

Oh, my god. “You’re an idiot,” Steve laughs. “That’s your big confession?”

Eddie’s smile widens. “Yeah. I got distracted with rehearsals. This was the only clean shit I had left.” He kicks one leg out straight to show off his boot. “I’m only wearing these so you can’t tell I don’t have socks on.”

“Gross!” Steve laughs harder and shoves at Eddie, who tumbles theatrically over the edge of the counter, flinging himself to the ground and rolling onto his back so he can fake a couple death spasms and then lie there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a fucking weirdo. “You’re so weird.”

“This night sucked before I showed up, and you know it,” Eddie says from the floor. He opens one eye to wink at Steve, then he gives one final death twitch and drops the act, popping back up to mirror Steve’s pose, elbows propped on the counter between them.

Steve’s arm hair stands on end. “How was your show, anyway?”

“Oh, it was greeeat,” Eddie says. “Drunk assholes yelling slurs at me, Gareth barfing in the bushes. Standard Hideout gig.”

"Was someone harassing you?" Steve frowns. He knows the Hideout's a shithole — a ‘dependable dumpster fire where we practice for the gigs that actually pay us,’ as Eddie had put it — but he thought the people there were, like, accepting, or whatever.

Surely Eddie's style isn't any more out there than the rest of the regulars.

"Holster your eyebrows," Eddie sighs, "it was fine. Really.”

“Holster my— dude, what?”

“Your eyebrows,” he repeats. He reaches out with the tip of his pointer finger and gently prods the space between them. “At ease, gentlemen.”

“So weird,” Steve says again. He rolls his eyes and swats Eddie’s hand away, and Eddie just laughs and says ‘There we go!’ because his antics actually did get Steve to unfurrow his face. Little bastard. “Were you gonna rent something, or…?”

“Hell no, my late fees are fucking ridic—”

Eddie cuts himself off, his eyes darting over Steve’s shoulder.

He goes skittish all of a sudden, starts backing toward the exit, stammering, “Ridiculously non-existent. Is, uh, is what I was gonna say. Obviously. Um. Right.”

His back hits the front door, the bell jangling overhead, and before Steve gets a chance to ask what the hell his problem is now, Eddie starts rambling at triple speed that “Dustin wanted me to check in on you and now I have checked in on you so okay-gotta-go-bye” and practically sprints out of the store.

Doesn’t even look back to give Steve a parting wave.

What the fuck?

“What. the fuck…” Steve jumps a foot in the air at the sound of Robin’s voice. He whips around to look at her; realizes she must have been what spooked Eddie. Her nose and cheeks are bright red from the cold, her eyes bugging out of her head, and her jaw is halfway to the floor as she gapes at him, “...was that?”

—

part 21

tag list part 1 below cut comment if you want to be added tomorrow

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #st fic #my writing #my fic

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il-miele-che-scrive · 5 months

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a lil xmas-y smau charles leclerc x reader, faceclaim sabrina carpenter

yourusername made something special for you guys for the holidays 🤍 fruitcake is out of the oven

view all comments

username1 wtf is she holding?

↳ username2 a fruit cake I assume since the album's name is fruitcake?

carlossainz55 I gave it a listen before it came out and I'm gonna make it everyone's business

↳ yourusername alright Chili stop flexing or I won't let you pre-listen to anything else in the future 🙄

carlossainz55 you know that's not true

yourusername you're lucky I value your opinion

georgerussell63 Y/n send help Carmen hasn't stopped blasting the album since it came out

↳ yourusername seems like a you problem darling🫶

carmenmmundt don't listen to him Y/n, he secretly loves fruitcake

maxverstappen1 this is better than the Dutch national anthem

↳ yourusername thank you I guess 🤔

↳ username5 that's such an underrated compliment

username3 literally how dare you release Cindy Lou who when you literally stole Charles from Charlotte. Alex 'stealing' him from you is literally your karma

↳ username2 but Y/n and Charles have been recently seen in France together 👀

username3 oh great 🙄 what a homewrecker, also notice how she's flirting with literally all drivers in her comments

username4 they're friends she's not flirting with them lol plus Charles is still in her likes so they're def back together

↳ maxverstappen1 literally shut the fuck up

username5 lmaooo Max being the big brother Y/n never had

username2 tell them queen 💅

username6 i live for the friendship between Y/n and Max 🙏 oh what a girl gotta do for a friend like this

landonorris slay bestie

↳ yourusername you know it

username4 so we're all just gonna ignore the fact that Y/n has been seen with Charles in France and they still follow each other and like each other's posts?

↳ username7 i mean that's just how adults are but

username4 nah just wait and see

yourusername a quick trip to Paris 🤍 je t'aime

view all comments

username4 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

username8 THE 3RD PIC WHAT

charles_leclerc je t'aime moi aussi ❤️

↳ username4 THEY'RE SO CUTE AND FOR WHAT

↳ username5 I love how Y/n is like a younger sister to Max and dating his biggest nemesis of all times

yourusername i asked them to be nice to each other

username3 nah that's too much, I hate this drama and this girl

↳ username8 imagine being so bitter to post a comment like this

↳ maxverstappen1 quit stalking her page then?

username7 big brother max strikes again and we love to see it

↳ username3 weird how Y/n became Max's sister when she started dating Charles 🙄 sister my ass, she's def cheating on Charles

username4 i haven't read a comment as dumb as this since your previous one, Charles and Max were friends before Charles started dating Y/n so he introduced her to Max, what's weird about that?

username3 and what does that change? people make new 'friends' while in a relationship and end up cheating with said friends

username4 sweetheart you're embarrassing yourself, Y/n said in an interview that she's grateful for Charles introducing her to Max because he's like an older brother to her AND WE CAN CLEARLY SEE THAT

username3 what was she supposed to say? Yeah, I'm fucking my boyfriend's rival?

username5 you jealous bitter asshole, go cry to your mom about men and women being friends

carlossainz55 But when are you coming to Monaco? We all miss you

↳ yourusername I'll be home for Christmas

username9 not Y/n replying with a song lyrics lol she's so unserious

username10 what did you expect her to write a whole paragraph about how she's going to be there for the 24th/25th of December

username9 she said she'll be home for Christmas, she's going back to America

charles_leclerc so grateful to have you here for Christmas ❤️ welcome home

view all comments

yourusername i couldn't be happier 😭❤️

↳ charles_leclerc btw we should bake together more often

yourusername you mean I bake and you occassionally steal the frosting more often?

charles_leclerc call it whatever you want darling but we have to repeat it sometime

yourusername bet, now that I live with you you won't avoid it

↳ carlossainz55 In the name of the whole grid could I fill a request to try your baked goods?

yourusername sure if Charlie won't eat all my frosting

username4 SHE'S IN MONACO AND SHE BROUGHT HER DOG???

username5 that's why she said she'll be home, because Monaco is her home now 😭 I'm not crying you are

landonorris haters been really quiet

↳ yourusername they're scared of Charlie and Max joining forces to defend me

maxverstappen1 as they should am i right @/charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc so right mate

↳ username7 so sexy of them to be so protective of y/n

username5 so sexy and for what

username7 for us to fangirl I guess

carmenmmundt Okay but when are we going to hang out? Since when are boyfriends more important than friends?

↳ yourusername we had a double date a few days ago didn't we

carmenmmundt I meant a girls night

yourusername you got separation anxiety or what😭

carmenmmundt Only with you though, it doesn't work like that with George

↳ georgerussell63 I mean, she's right, I haven't experienced any separation anxiety from her

yourusername excuse me @/georgerussell63 the last time i checked she was your gf

charles_leclerc should I be jealous?

↳ yourusername absolutely not!! <3

↳ carlossainz55 Don't worry mate, in the worst case @/landonorris and I can take you on a date

landonorris the worst case?!

charles_leclerc well, it's not ideal is it?

landonorris is it not?!

username7 help cause i've always imagined y/n and charles as parents and lando as their kid

↳ yourusername i mean, he did thirdwheel us a few times

landonorris and loved every second of it

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #F1 smau #Charles leclerc x reader #Charles leclerc smau #Charles leclerc social media au #F1 social media au

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simon-sehs · 2 months

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due (18+) pt 2

tags / cw: f!reader, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, sexually repressed!reader, smut, pining, flirting, inappropriate conduct, seduction, sexual tension, possessive!simon, mind games, public sex, virginity kink, fingering, oral sex, pussy eating, masturbation

You avoided him like the plague.

Tried to, anyway.

You couldn’t handle the thought of being near him without being able to touch him, or outright jump his bones. You relied on a daily mantra to keep yourself sane.

He’s not interested, you’re just desperate.

You laid in bed and glanced at the alarm clock. 2:36 in the morning.

It had been a couple days since Ghost had left the infirmary and started acting… weird. Cryptic.

You scoffed. Isn’t that just the default?

But then again, the things he had said to you… talking about you being… green…

…Touching you…

He knew you were a virgin, somehow.

God, was it really that obvious? But there was no way he could have made it to that conclusion alone. Soap knew, sure, but he wouldn’t have said anything.

…Would he?

Ah, hell…

You groaned and rubbed your tired eyes. It had to have been Soap. And then something else dawned on you.

Why did it matter?

Ghost was your Lieutenant. You trusted him, even if he was an ass sometimes. Personal things like this were bound to come out of the woodwork. It’s not like it would become relevant, anyway…

Even though you wanted it to be.

Maybe that was the problem. This whole ordeal had you feeling like a teen boy who discovered boobs for the first time. Hell, maybe even a lovesick little girl. Shit, would you even go that far? How much of your feelings were actually… authentic, vs the want—no, need—to get laid?

You carefully left the comfort of your bed and exited your room. The hallway was dark and cold on the bare legs not covered by your pajama shorts. A cup of coffee at this hour wasn’t the best idea, but it wasn’t like you were going to get proper sleep anyway.

You slowly and silently entered the empty mess hall… and froze.

Fuck. Me.

Ghost was sitting at one of the tables, his back facing you as he sipped from a mug of what you could only assume was his usual tea. However, he didn’t seem to know you were there.

Get. Out. Get out, get out!

You slowly turned on your heel, your bare foot squeaking against the damn tile.

Shit.

“Sergeant. What are you doing in here?”

You turned back around, but this time, your foot did not squeak against the floor again, as if to pour salt in the wound. You crossed your arms defensively. “Stalking you, obviously.”

He had turned to face you, his eyes instinctively moving to your bare legs for a second before returning to your eyes. “Funny.”

“I try. Can I go?”

“No. Not until you answer me, honestly.”

You sighed. “Came to have some coffee. What about you?”

“Not your concern.”

You grit your teeth. “Whatever.” You turned to leave now that his curiosity was sated.

“Wait…”

You paused and turned back around.

Ghost lifted his balaclava slightly to take a drink of his tea. You took the opportunity to soak in the sight of his jawline, his lips…

He set the cup back down and looked at you. “Come, sit.”

No. Bad idea.

Yet, you walked over and sat down across from him. He carefully pushed his mug towards you. “You can do better than that piss poor shite they call coffee here. Try this.”

“What if I don’t want to share your germs?”

He stared at you.

“Fine…” You picked up the still warm mug and tentatively took a sip. You weren’t sure what the flavor was, it tasted slightly bitter, but still pleasing to the tastebuds. You took another drink.

“Alright, don’t fuckin’ hog it…”

You set the cup down and pushed it back towards him. He took a drink.

Your gaze settled on his eyes, which appeared tired and haggard with the lack of makeup around them. It was weird, seeing more of his bare skin than usual.

“Nightmares?” You guessed.

“None of your concern.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then…”

“I change my mind, you can leave.”

You braced your arms on the cold table. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I making you feel uncomfortable, Lieutenant?” You asked sweetly.

His dark eyes met your gaze, but he remained silent. He leaned back in his chair. “Hm. Do I make you uncomfortable, Sergeant?”

You mulled it over in your head. Did he?

“None of your concern.” You said flatly.

“Ah, so not only are you a prude, but a jokester as well.”

You knew it was intentional. He was trying to piss you off, and you knew it. And yet, it still worked. “Yeah? So what?”

He smirked. “I hit a nerve, love? What’s the expression…? ‘It’s a joke, not a dick, don’t take it so hard’…” He chuckled.

“Let’s quit with the bullshit. Your little favor I owe you… you want my virginity, don’t you?”

“Ah, you’re not too daft after all. Good girl.”

You leaned back in your chair. “What I want to know is, why on Earth do you think I would indulge in your request?”

“Because you like me.”

“Do I?”

“I have plenty of reason to believe so.”

“Then you’re delusional.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Alright, then. Consider the favor forgotten.”

“…Wait, what?”

“You heard me. Consider your little mission fuckup buried and forgotten. Wouldn’t want to… pressure you into anything, of course…”

Your brows furrowed as he talked. This… was good, wasn’t it?

So then why did you feel disappointed?

“…What game are you playing at, Ghost?”

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one pretending that you don’t want anything to happen between us. I’ve seen the looks, the blushing… you’re not slick, love. But please… keep telling me I’m the delusional one…”

You frowned and glanced away.

“So, let me ask you, Sergeant: what do you want?”

“I… it doesn’t matter what I want…”

He took a drink of his tea. “How noble of you. Answer the question, properly. That’s an order.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You then closed your mouth and sighed.

“…Fine. I’ll take a guess.” He said, putting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “You want me to take your virginity.”

You stayed silent, squirming in your seat.

“I hit the nail on the head?” He smirked. “I wonder… just how much you long for it. To lose that self-control, that pride you have for holding onto it for this long…” He took another drink. “To let someone take care of you… someone who… knows what they’re doing…” He whispered.

Your heartbeat accelerated, your skin beginning to feel hot all over as his words hit close to home. You swallowed. “W-what do you get out of it?”

He seemed surprised by the question, but chuckled with a smile. “What do I get? Well… I finally get to see what makes you tick in the bedroom. I get to bring out a new side of you, one that’s been boiling under the surface for… god, how long? Who knows. And, well, I’d be lying if I said the idea of ruining you for anyone else didn’t turn me on.” He leaned forward in his seat. “To fuck you so good, you won’t even daydream of gracing anyone else’s bed…”

You released a shaky breath.

“Poor girl, are you getting aroused?” He cooed. “C’mere.”

You stayed glued to your seat. “Huh?”

“Did I stutter, love? Come here.”

You waited a couple more moments before you slowly stood from your chair and walked around the table to him. He stood from his seat as well, now towering over you.

“Look at you… tell me what you want...”

“I… want you…”

“Yeah? What else?”

Frustration started to simmer beneath your skin. “I want… want you to fuck me…”

He chuckled and you started blushing. Then he slowly reached out and held your chin, his fingers hot and rough on your skin. “You sure?”

You nodded.

He let go of you and trailed a finger down your neck, the middle of your chest, along your bellybutton, and stopping at your shorts, where he traced along the hemline, caressing the bare skin between your shirt and pants.

Your eyes widened as the finger slipped inside the waistband…

“W-wait, there are cameras in here!” You whispered.

“I’ll delete the footage.” He said without skipping a beat.

“…What? You have access to that?”

He just raised an eyebrow.

“…Oh…”

His fingers continued delving into your shorts, past your underwear. You could hear the sharp intake of his breath as he made contact with your pussy.

“You poor thing…” He cooed. “You’re so wet, so eager to be filled…”

You could feel a blush forming again at his words, his fingers carefully rubbing and prodding at the different parts of you, as if mapping you out to memory. It felt arousing, but… weird.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

His brown eyes bore into yours. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m playing with your cunt.” He pinched your clit, making you yelp, and you clasped a hand over your mouth before glaring at him.

“Don’t give me that, love, or I’ll leave you empty handed.”

Your sigh was muffled by your hand, which you slowly dropped before making your gaze neutral again.

“Good girl…”

Ah, shit. This again. You moaned.

He finally adjusted his hand and started grinding his palm along your clit, the tips of his fingers swirling around your entrance.

Your heart raced in your chest, all of your nerves on high alert.

“You like this, love?”

You nodded. “Y-yeah…” You replied, breathlessly. “Can… can you do more?”

He tilted his head. “You’ll have to be specific. Do you want me to go faster? Do you want me to enter you? Do you—“

“In me. Please.”

He chuckled but complied, slowly slipping a finger inside. A choked sound left your throat. The sensation was odd, but… a bit fulfilling.

With one finger.

Heat washed over you at the thought of having his dick inside you.

“Oh, you really liked that, huh? I can feel you raining on my finger.” He started moving it in and out, making you moan. “You’re so soft… has anything else been inside? You? Toys?”

You blushed again and shook your head. “No, nothing.”

Ghost raised both eyebrows. “Nothing? You’re telling me you haven’t stuffed those pretty fingers inside once?”

“No… I always, uh… never-mind.”

He stopped his movements. “Tell me.”

You sighed. “I would always… uh… rub myself, instead…”

“Interesting…”

Then he entered another finger. You found yourself holding your breath, hands clutching onto his arms.

“Careful, love. Relax…”

You released your breath and breathed deeply. And then you could feel his knuckles at the base of your entrance. Oh. Oh wow.

He titled his hand to be cupping the curve of your cunt once more before moving his fingers again. You could feel yourself clenching around him, each stroke carefully caressing your soft walls, heat swirling around deliciously in your abdomen.

“Lieutenant, ohh…” You breathed out.

He stopped. “When I’m knuckles deep in you, you say my name.” He continued.

“Ghost…”

He curved his fingers, making you buck and moan. “Try again.”

You slowly met his gaze. “…Simon…”

“That’s it, lovie…”

You moaned again, laying your head on his shoulder as he continued to finger you. Your knees began to shake, much to your mortification.

“Having trouble?” He chuckled.

“N-no, I’m fine.”

“Good. Because I’m going to continue until you come on my fingers. And then? I’m going to eat your pussy, after.” He whispered into your ear, making you whimper. “You’re going to taste so sweet…”

“Oh, god…” Your grip tightened on him. “I… I think I’m gonna…”

“You think? Or you know?”

“I… I know. I’m gonna come…”

He started circling his palm against you, heightening your pleasure as his fingers lazily fucked you. Only then did you realize just how… loud… and wet you were down there.

“S-Simon…” You clenched around him, your orgasm making you twitch and your breathing stutter. Your previous orgasms had felt good, but at the hands of another? It was divine.

“‘Atta girl… good girl…” Ghost used his free hand to rub your back. “Now, lay down on the table.”

Your head was still swimming. “Huh?”

“Like I said, I’m gonna eat you out. Get on the table… no better place for it.” His grin was insufferable.

You let go of him and gingerly laid yourself on the table, wincing at the cold contact. Ghost either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, before he unceremoniously pulled both of your shorts and underwear to the side, and stared at your core. You started to feel somewhat self-conscious from his intense gaze.

“Fuck…” He muttered before leaning in and sniffing. Loudly. “Mmm…”

Your eyes widened and your face was on fire. Jesus…

And then it finally happened. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue up and down your folds, albeit a bit too eagerly. But then he slowed down, making his movements deliberate by circling your entrance, then your labia, and then your clitoris.

You moaned, very loudly. And then your closing eyes snapped back open as you felt his big hand closing over your mouth. “As pretty as your noises are, I need you to be quiet, you’re gonna wake the whole base.”

Then he continued licking you. You squirmed and jolted against him.

He sighed. “I’m also gonna need ya to stay still.”

“Thorry…” You mumbled against his hand.

Ghost smirked and then dived back in, but this time, he started sucking on your clit. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the arm that was stretched across your chest, holding onto your covered mouth as you quietly moaned against his palm.

“I was right,” he went back to his licking, “you taste amazing…”

Your neck ached as you held your head up to watch him, his movements precise and calculated. “Mmm…” You whimpered against his hand.

Wait, where was the other?

Your gaze followed the length of his other arm, still bandaged, which was slowly moving up and down. You couldn’t see past the table, but you didn’t need to. He was getting himself off. You moaned against his hand again, desperately wondering how he was doing it. You wanted to see so badly, and his hand on your mouth was preventing you from properly asking.

The fact that he was masturbating during this made you wetter, and your hips started grinding against his face, despite him previously telling you to stay still. But instead of chastising you, he simply raised an eyebrow and stopped his movements. Rather, he laid his tongue out and let you do as you pleased against it. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders, tightening behind his neck, making him moan.

“You’re very greedy for a virgin...” He breathed hotly against your pussy.

You didn’t bother with giving him a reaction. Your eyes may have been locked on his but you were tuned out, clinging to the sensation of the familiar build-up burning in your abdomen as the movement of your hips faltered, the angle of your body tiring you out already. Thankfully, Ghost saw his opening and continued his previous actions from earlier, before you took over.

You whimpered against his hand, grateful that he wasn’t going to let your budding orgasm falter…

And then he stuck his tongue inside you.

“Mmm!”

You winced as your head fell back against the table, but the sliver of pain didn’t matter. You were now coming again, your legs instinctively squeezing him closer to you. He grunted in response, but didn’t make any effort to let you know if he was uncomfortable, potentially getting suffocated by your vagina.

Hell, he probably likes that anyway.

But then your legs twitched and loosened as you rode out the momentary euphoria, and his hand slowly left your mouth.

You limped against the cold table, panting and exhausted. But Ghost did not seem to care.

“Up.” He commanded.

You groaned and slowly left the table, back aching slightly as you watched him walk over to a counter, grabbing a sanitation wipe.

Wait, what is he…?

And then he walked back over to you, and began wiping down the surface.

There was something so comical about the sight of your Lieutenant sanitizing a table after eating you out on it. But, you were also relieved and… endeared… that he was being so careful about this sort of thing. He then threw away the wipe and turned to face you.

“Alright. Now, go to bed, love.”

You snapped out of your stupor, confused. “Wait, what?”

“Sleeping. You know what it is, right? You get in bed, lay down—“

“Shut up! That’s not what I…” You cleared your throat nervously. “Is… that all you were… gonna do?” You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice.

He chuckled softly and crossed his arms. “For now, yeah.”

Confusion washed over you. For now? “Why?”

“Once again, I was right. You are a greedy little virgin.” His arms slowly untangled themselves as he walked up to you, a thumb tracing along your bottom lip. “You really want to know, sweetheart?”

Your heart flutters at the nickname. “Yes.”

“Fine…” His thumb left your lip as his hand began caressing your cheek, softly. “I want you to beg for more… for me. I don’t just want you to feel obligated to me, I want you to want to feel that way. I want you to enjoy feeling like that. Am I making sense?”

You blinked at him. “I… think so…”

“But… I’m also a patient man. I’m not going to rush into things, even if you say otherwise. I want you to squirm a bit, if I’m being honest. Make you really… soak it all in. Your feelings, that is.” He glanced down at your lips. “I want you to need me. More than you’ve ever wanted anyone in your life. More than you thought humanly possible…”

“…Are you done?”

“No.” He leaned in closer, your faces almost touching. “I want you to ache for me so badly, your pussy weeps at the sight of me. I want your everything.”

You continued staring at him. “I think you have issues.”

Ghost laughed heartily, the sound ringing in your head like sweet music. “Maybe. But… something tells me you like it.” He playfully smacked your face, before walking away. “You can have the rest of my tea.”

You don’t know where the anger came from. Maybe it was from feeling led on, in some capacity. Did you? You thought there was going to be more, the grand finale…

You turned to watch him go, before gritting out: “I’ll just find someone else, then.”

He quit walking but didn’t turn to face you. “Is that so, Sergeant?” Humor evident in his tone.

“Yes. It is.”

He chuckled. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

And then he left the mess hall without a single backwards glance. Your threat had fallen on deaf ears.

You stood there in the mess hall, alone and in the dark… mind racing…

…Fucker.

This wasn’t over.

[part one] [part two] [part three]

taglist: @waves-against-a-cliff @beansproutmafia

#simon riley #cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #my writing #if you wanna be tagged in final part lemme know k bye

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444rockstargf · 3 months

Note

so happy your requests are open tbfh, could you write something (for euro, he is so MEEEEOOWWW) about reader being a sibling of one of the other band members and they hate each other and then SEX!!

thats as specific as i can get i fear 😭 i love your work so much thanks for your time girl!!

thank you for the request babe! (this is absolutely scrumptious.)

"big, bad, naughty rock star." | euronymous

big bad wolf. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart @imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt

female!reader x r!euronymous

word count: 1.6k

contents: brother's best friend type relationship, tension, drinking, unprotected p in v, implications of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, not proofread!!!

heavy metal music tore through the thin walls of your house, the noise from the basement sounding as deafening as ever from your bedroom. you were lying on your bed, eyes closed as vibrations filled your body.

you groaned, rolling off your bed as the pounding sensation in your head grew more intolerable by each passing second. truth be told, you had no problem with death metal. your brother was into it, so that automatically meant that it would rub off on you. but what you didn’t like was attention-hungry guitarists who didn’t know when to give the ear-piercing riffs a break.

you stormed down two flights of stairs, making your way to the source of the racket. you swung open the door, causing the music to come to an immiediate halt and all eyes to turn to you. euronymous’, or rather oystein’s gaze caught your eye first. it was icy and cold and bitter like the depths of the arctic.

you placed your hands on your hips, your friendly eyes turning to slits as you met his glare. “can you animals keep it down in here? i’d hate to fall asleep to your music and suddenly wake up in the pits of hell.” jan axel, your brother, smirked at your comment with a little chuckle. “no problem. we’d hate to interrupt your beauty sleep.” you swatted him off, turning and walking away from the atmosphere.

you felt a pair of predatory eyes on you the entire time, probably studying you. you had shown up in a lacy camisole top, tiny black shorts and white thigh-high socks with little pink bows on them, an outfit that would now be engraved in euronymous’ mind for the rest of time. he watched you walk up the stairs as his band continued playing, watching your ass jiggle with each step you took.

then he turned to your brother.

“why the fuck do you let her walk all over you like that? she bitches and whines like a goddamn 12 year old.” jan scoffs. “c’mon man, that’s my little sister. and you know she’s 18. you were even at that big birthday party of her’s, remember?”

oh yes, he remembered. the night you got blackout drunk and tried to lead him on, leading to a very sloppy hookup that also happened to be the night he lost his virginity, to you. but you didn’t remember any of this, and that was probably for the best. so all you viewed him as was that weird guy that hung out with your brother.

euronymous rubbed a hand over his face. “she’s a fuckin’ brat, dude. and she dresses like a damn hooker. you can’t just let her do whatever the hell she wants around here. one way or another, it’ll ruin our band.” jan brushed him off. “whatever, man. she’s her own person. she’s a woman, so it’d be pretty fucked up for me to be bossing her around.” he flipped over his sheet music. “from the top.”

euronymous placed his guitar on it’s stand. “i’m grabbing a beer.” he muttered, making his way to the stairs and bolting up them. that’s when he saw you in the kitchen, squirting whipped cream into your mouth from the can. he felt heat pooling in his core from the sight. “oh, fuck me…” he muttered under his breath, making you turn your head to him.

“the grumpy old troll crawled out of his cave, hm?” you taunted. he rolled his eyes, spitting back a snarky response. “why don’t you crawl back into whatever fairytale you lept out from.” you snarled, the expression on your face making euronymous’ knees weak. you opened the fridge, putting the whipped cream back and grabbing a bottle of beer. the last one.

you started heading back to your room until you felt a calloused hand grip your wrist, pulling you back. “i was gonna take that.” his eyes bored into your soul, but you put on a fake-pout. “well that’s too bad.” you licked around the tip of the bottle, claiming your territory in attempt to disgust him enough to leave you alone. but his pupils dilated when he saw your pink tongue smear saliva across the bottle, awakening something primal in him.

you hopped up the stairs, giving him a view of your legs in such innocent yet provocative clothing. without thining, he followed you up, walking into your room behind you and pinning you to the door by your chest. your eyes widened as the door shut behind you, your heart hammering inside of your chest.

“what the hell are you doing, oystein? jan would murder you if he saw you doing this.” euronymous didn’t have anything to say to that, so his mouth gaped open slightly as he studied your features. you looked like if your brother was crossed with a cute little child’s doll. your eyes shimmered with intense emotion, and he imagined what they’d look like as they rolled to the back of his head while he fucked you.

he watched the top of your breasts rise and fall with each heavy breath you took, feeling a very familiar sensation in his jeans. one that he always felt whenever he saw you. he shook himself back to reality, plucking the beer out of your hand. “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be drinking this. besides, you’re a kid.” your cheeks puffed up with anger. “you’re like 6 months older than me, asshole.”

he shrugged, leaning against your wall and taking a large swig of beer, looking around your bedroom. as pink and girly as it was, it all became much more lewd the longer he looked. there were bras and panties slung across almost every surface, smutty books filling your bookshelves, and a pretty pink vibrator that failed to be hidden underneath your pillow.

euronymous smirked, walking toward your bed and picking it up, switching it on. “well what do we have here?” your breath left your lungs as he held it, quickly rushing up to him and snatching it. “dont touch that!” he laughed bitterly, looking you right in the eye. “so turns out princess bubblegum’s a fucking whore.” you felt your cheeks heating up as he continued to speak.

“did you get to cum, dolly? or was the sound of real music too much for your pretty little ears?” you opened your drawer, tossing the vibrator into it and slamming it shut. then you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and throwing you onto your bed.

everything was happening too fast for you, but the next thing you knew euronymous was on top of you, your faces less than an inch apart as his tone turned into one of lust and desire. “i asked you a question, angel. did that stupid toy make you cum?” you gulped, your core starting to drip from the words he spoke.

you shook your head, causing him to smile. he pushed your legs apart, letting himself in between them and pressing his burning erection onto your clothed pussy, making you gasp. he trailed his hand down your body, his fingers slithering under the waistband of your shorts and stopping at your panties, feeling the sopping wet mess underneath the thin, lacy fabric.

your limbs turned to jelly as a moan slipped from your lips. he began to rub slow circles onto your hard clit, feeling it’s throbbing response.he used his other hand to slip of your shorts, then your panties, taking off your clothes layer by layer until only your socks were left. but he left those on. he thought they were a nice touch.

one thing led to another, and he was pounding into you from behind, his fingers shoved down your throat as he stretched out your tiny little pussy with his monstrous cock.

your back arched as he pressed you into the mattress, feeding on your desperate moans and whimpers like a starved beast. “like that, doll? is that the spot?” he cooed, obviously mocking you. you were a sobbing mess, your mascara running down your face as you drooled around his large fingers.

he looked down at you from where he was, watching your ass bounce with each hard thrust. he watched the curve of your back as his dick made you lose all control of your senses. you would never admit it to him, but he made you feel much better than that stupid vibrator did.

“i-im cumming, oystein..!” you managed to cry out, his finger muffling your words. you had gushed and creamed and squirted around him so many times by now that you had lost count. but body was weak beyond its limits, but he refused to stop. he just kept on pushing, his deep, hoarse groans eoching through your bedroom walls.

he landed a harsh slap onto your bruised ass, making you yelp. his thrusts began to lose their composure as he spoke, his voice breaking. “c-can you cum f’me one more time, baby… can you do that for me..?” you nodded frantically, tears rolling down your face and staining your bedsheets.

his cock throbbed inside of your pulsating hole, creating a wet and sticky mess as cum poured down your thighs and stomach. and then he began to shout, his voice coming out as a booming roar. “goddamnit!” he forced himself all the way in, making your heart stop for a moment as he filled you up with his molten hot cum. he gave you a few more lazy thrusts, his groans turning into little whimpers before he pulled out, shooting a few last ropes onto your arched back.

you laid there, panting like a dog as the realization hit you. your brother’s best friend had just fucked you. the one that you had never gotten along with. the one who swore he’d kill himself if you ever got a man to touch you. the one who longed for the day that he’d finally get to claim a pure soul like yours as his own. and now, he’d finally done it. again.

author's note: i ran to write this as soon as I got the request. goodnight yall :))

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #lana del rey #euronymous #lords of chaos #smut #lana del rey unreleased #eurorory #euronymous rory culkin #euronymous smut

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vandal-flower · 2 months

Text

Take into Consideration

Blue Lock Boys and the things that they do in a relationship.

Requested Characters: Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser and Oliver Aiku.

Notes: A.B.A's theme Symphony goes hard.

Sae Itoshi

The Small things he does for you.

It's the small things that make your relationship with Sae truly bloom.

From bringing little souvenirs, buying your favourite meal, and even watching the same show with you over, and over again.

He may look like he's irritated, but he was born with the face that freezes people's hearts. But it somehow warmed up yours.

Maybe you like them weird.

According to his teammates and family, it's a miracle he's even in a relationship with someone. His brother, Rin, informed you that had it not been for you entering his life, Sae would probably grow old, bitter and most importantly, single.

"Sae, would you get my-"

"I found your socks."

In his hands was your socks that you've been wanting to wear, but couldn't find them. So you, being you, assumed it was lost.

"Where did you find them?", you inspected the cotton made object in your hands. "I've been looking for them like a mad person!".

He shrugs it off and just hands it to you. Without wasting any second, you hug him from behind and gently kiss the nape of his neck.

"Thank you, Sae.", you whisper.

"It's nothing.", he answers, turning himself around just so he can hug you, and hide the faint redness on his ears.

Michael Kaiser

Would never do it for anyone else, but you're the exception.

He is the dictionary definition of "I don't run for anyone, but for you, I'll make an effort."

At first, he is drama queen, ready to complain about everything and anything as it doesn't suit his style.

But, if you stroke his ego well enough, (or sees Isagi, Don Lorenzo, or someone who is making his life difficult), prepare to see this man go toe-to-toe with giants and win.

His cocky nature is just part of a façade he puts on in front of people. Deep inside, he's genuine and very clingy when the two of you are alone.

"Please, Michael."

"Absolutely not, the fact you're asking should be against my rights."

Before you could even finish, he dived into the pool, surprising everyone. He then got up, slicked his hair back and exited the pool.

He looked like he was in an edit, had you not had your phone recording, you would've cried.

He looked at with a serious look, "You better send me the video later, and I want my cuddles."

Oliver Aiku

It's stupid in theory, but since it's him...

Oliver Aiku. Damn. That's one rough world you are living, but worry not for he'll do something absolutely ridiculous, but since it's him...

We can let it slide...

You swore he acted like those people in thirst traps, but he did it so well you might as well forget about it.

Even with some people giving you looks like you have stolen someone's husband, you don't mind and feign ignorance for a crime you have never committed.

Well, you did steal most women's dream husband, but he was yours first!

"So, how do I look?"

He emerged out of the closet with a tuxedo. But there was a problem. The stubble on his chin was working its magic, his tie hanged low.

It was low enough to see a glimpse of his chest, and the veins popping from his hands. And his cocky smile.

You would see this in a form of your friends' photos, but to see this before your very eyes. You are at a loss of words.

"You know, I can stay here with you, that is if you are jealous?", his smirk got even wider than before. You'll let it slide this once.

"We're watching the new movie that just got released, I'll get the popcorn."

Hi.

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #vandal-flower

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mirkoluvs · 7 months

Text

★ JJK SMAU - DATING SUGURU GETO

notes: funfact sugurus my fav animanga character 🤭

→ gojo ver. !!

♥︎ liked by sugeto, thestrongest, shokoko, utahim3, and others…

y/nstivies: my starboy

tagged: sugeto

shokoko: BOOOOO I COULD TREAT YOU BETTER

↳ sugeto: why are you implying that i dont treat her well.

↳ shokoko: im not im implying that im better than you and she should break up with you and get with me.

↳ sugeto: wow.

↳ y/nstivies: that’s a tempting offer idk…

↳ sugeto: ???

thestrongest: me when i came up with this whole outfit

↳ sugeto: no you didn’t??????

↳ thestrongest: suguru pls don’t discredit me rn.

↳ sugeto: you LITERALLY told me i picked a good outfit before i walked out

↳ thestrongest: ok but like i mentally approved it so if i didn’t do that you would’ve changed and then you wouldn’t have that on so

↳ sugeto: i want to be happy so i’m ignoring you.

♥︎ liked by thestrongest, y/nstivies, kenton, haibabara, and others…

sugeto: you are my sea, you are my sunshine

tagged: y/nstivies

y/nstivites: WAVE TO EARTH????? SUGU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

↳ sugeto: i love you more baby 🖤

shokoko: cant even hate he did research for this one.

↳ sugeto: what can i say 😜

↳ shokoko: now i can hate on you using that stupid ass emoji

↳ y/nstivites: yeah that was a little…

↳ sugeto: can i live.

haibabara: THIS IS SO CUTE IM GONNA POST MY FUTURE GF LIKE THIS

↳ thestrongest: youre not getting a gf anytime soon lil bro

↳ sugeto: what is your problem

↳ thestrongest: bitter.

↳ thestrongest: i’m sorry haibara you will get gf soon!

↳ haibabara: THANKS!!!!

↳ kenton: i wish i was this happy

↳ sugeto: i can somehow hear him through the phone

♥︎ liked by utahim3, thestrongest, shokoko, sugeto, and others…

y/nstivites: when he knows how to do your hair better than you do 😍

tagged: sugeto

sugeto: hair stylists are lucky i decided to become a jujutsu sorcerer

↳ y/nstivites: they’d be unemployed 😞

utahim3: this is cute ig. like i guess it is like idk i guess.

↳ thestrongest: crazy level of hating

liked by sugeto

↳ utahim3: didnt you just tell haibara that he’d never get a gf cause you were jealous of these two.

↳ thestrongest: what happened to forgive and forget wtf…

↳ utahim3: YOU PISS ME OFF SO BADDDD

♥︎ liked by shokoko, sugeto, kenton, the strongest, and others…

y/nstivites: took a picture so itd last longer

tagged: sugeto

sugeto: dont need a picture when im here

↳ y/nstivites: 🙁🤍

↳ sugeto: 🖤

↳ thestrongest: this is disgusting

↳ shokoko: for once i agree

shokoko: had to burn my film camera after this one

shokoko: i need a cigarette

↳ y/nstivites: had to post this so they wouldn’t catch onto us yk you’re my #1 😙

↳ shokoko: omg ur so right

↳ sugeto: i don’t like this entire thread?????

↳ thestrongest: suguru i got you dont even worry

↳ sugeto: get away from me NOW.

↳ thestrongest: 🙁

thestrongest: u guys always have the corniest captions

↳ y/nstivites: ok then wtf do you want me to make it.

↳ thestrongest: idk something like we went to tinkle together after this

↳ y/nstivites: WHAT

↳ sugeto: EXCUSE ME?????

↳ thestrongest: oh ok so now i’m the weird one.

↳ kenton: you’re just now figuring this out?

#getou suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru #geto fluff #getou x reader #geto x reader #getou jjk #geto jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk suguru #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smau

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mrchiipchrome · 11 days

Text

Talkin' 'Bout My Girl

W.C. - 6.3 k

Warnings: throwing up ig?

------------------

Lucy’s calling, answer me, Lucy’s answer me.

Your phone blasts the annoying ringtone Lucy had created the latest time you’d met her, she’d insisted on having a unique one so that you’d answer all her calls. Spoiler alert: you didn’t answer all her calls.

Groaning loudly as your sleep is interrupted by the older woman calling you, she obviously didn’t think about the fact that you were in a totally different time zone and therefore calling you at 7 in the morning wasn’t a good idea.

“Fucking hell Luce, why’re you calling me at 7 in the fucking morning?” You can hear the way she laughs at your grumpy tone and how she sucks in a breath after a second or two. Well at least one of you was enjoying yourselves.

“Ou, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, did the grumpy wittle baby not get her 8 hours of sleep tonight?” She teases through the phone, the rustling of your sheets as you sit up echoing through the room that’s practically empty, like a hollowed out coconut.

“Actually, since you woke me up at 7, I did in fact barely even get 4 hours since Em dragged me away to a party in Connecticut, got wasted and then made me drive us both home.” This just makes the older woman laugh even more. For some reason, you thought that she’d be a bit more responsible and tell you off for going to a party, but she didn’t.

“Well that’s good then, Em is finally making you go through college the correct way, by going to parties.” You groan loudly as you stretch out the tightness in your limbs, the headache that appears soon goes away just as quickly. The floor is cold beneath your feet as you stand up from the bed, dragging your hand over your face before slapping yourself a few times to really wake up.

“Yeah, the proper college experience or something like that.” Lucy hums at your statement, her usually thoughtless brain quickly reforming to its usual state.

“Mhm, well I’ll call tonight then, don’t sleep too late.” You say goodbye to the defender quickly before she hangs up the phone, venturing into the kitchen to pull open the door of the fridge, substituting a warm cup of bitter coffee for an energy drink.

“You’re going to be my best friend the coming four years, aren't you?” You look at the ice cold can in your hand as you speak, smiling sarcastically as you pop the tab open and take a swig, the weird aftertaste of pure caffeine leaving a streak down your tongue.

“Fucking hell, why do I not have anything at home?” As you look into the empty pantry, you suddenly understand why you should’ve taken Em’s advice earlier in the week, ‘fill your kitchen up like you have a whole family to feed’. Apparently a whole family equaled a drunk Em.

Peeking into the living room, you immediately see Em fast asleep on the couch, half her body hanging off the small piece of furniture like she was some drunk dad in a movie. Her mouth is wide open and the snores escaping from between her lips are just brutal.

Her party clothes from the night before are still donning her body, the dress barely staying intact after a night of tossing and turning to find a comfortable fit on the uncomfortable couch. But at least she’s not throwing up in the bathroom, so that's a plus.

You sigh, the quiet patting of your bare feet hitting the floor reaching your ears, fingers wrapping around the discarded blanket laying on the floor beside her on the floor and pulling it up to cover her body. She shifts underneath it, mumbling incoherently at you.

“Thanks mom.” You giggle at her sleepy presumption and she grumbles before turning her back to you like a moody teenager.

“Not your mum Em, but no problem anyway.” Walking back to the kitchen, you quickly find your phone before going to look for your wallet in your room, the sleek black leather laying on the floor beneath your mattress.

“Okay, just got to swing by the kitchen again then I’m off.” You mumble to yourself, patting your sleep shorts to see that you had everything you needed with you. The old Arsenal shorts from your time in the academy and the brief time you’d spent in the first team were the first things you’d packed for your move to America.

The comfort of home you supposed.

The simple t-shirt you had on was a Harvard one you’d gotten practically the first day on campus, the small ‘sports’ being printed just beneath the massive lettering of Harvard across your chest. It’s still warm enough outside to not need a jacket, you think to yourself, the sun shining brightly in the sky.

Picking up your can when you pass by the kitchen, you quickly make your way towards the door, finding the keys to your car hanging on the small hook meant for jackets. The metal ring you put them on clinks as you pull your keys off the hook, pulling your shoes over your bare feet before you turn the lock with a satisfying click, unlocking the door before disappearing out of it. Your key turns in the lock as you close the door, effectively securing Em inside the apartment.

The nice old lady living in the flat beside your own walks out of her door at the same time you do yours, her kind smile immediately filling you with a comforting warmth, her grandmotherly energy enveloping you fully, almost transforming you back into that little kid who would sit and wait for your gran to read a bedtime story.

“Hello dear, what are you doing up so early?” Her southern accent makes her words almost unintelligible, but you understand them either way, nothing was worse than drunk Em trying to speak. The large Newfoundland dog wagging his tail beside her yaps excitedly as he notices you, his entire body wiggling.

“Oh I’m off to the bakery to get some pastries, Em got really drunk at a party yesterday and I don’t have anything for breakfast, so bread and pastries it is.” She looks amusedly at you, despite only having been neighbours for about two or so weeks, it was like the older woman had seen both you and Em grow up the entirety of your lives.

“Yeah that does sound like Em, don’it.” You laugh along with her, walking closer to pet Bubba who jumped at you as soon as you were close enough for him. “Bubba, no, you know we don’t jump on people.”

Laughing at the gentle giant, your hands soon tangle in his soft fur, giving him a bunch of kisses.

“Oh Mrs. Peters, you know it’s his fault that he gets so excited, he’s just a little baby.” She rolls her eyes fondly at you and her dog, a simple tug of his leash making the fluffy dog go back to his owner. Moving towards the stairs you quickly turn back to ask her;

“Mrs. Peters, do you want anything from the bakery?” She smiles but shakes her head, signaling that she doesn't want anything, before she enters the elevator and disappears from your line of sight.

You hum the tune to the song playing in your headphones as you walk down the stairs quickly, arms nearly tied to your body as you make your way down to the bottom floor of the building. The last step is one you jump over, walking over to the door that opens almost automatically and exiting the building completely.

The rays of the brightly shining sun hit your face as soon as you step out into the warm weather, Frank Ocean’s soft voice floating through your headphones as you walk, the wind blowing onto your exposed arms.

It wasn’t often that people would just walk through the neighbourhood just to appreciate the scenery, to appreciate the nature and the small things that often seemed unimportant when living in such a fast tracked life as you did.

But you couldn’t just ignore the beauty in the simple things, the beauty in the small flowers growing along the road, the beauty in the gravel crunching under your feet as you walked, the warmth of the sun against your skin and the cooling effect of the wind.

It was all so beautiful, the calm and simple beauty.

You could find beauty in everything you saw, if you knew where to look for it, the soft smile on the mother’s face as she watched her toddler climb on the structure, the bird chirping as you pass it by, the old man sitting on a park bench.

The world wasn’t as bad as people thought it was, they just hadn’t looked at it the right way.

The chime of the bell hanging above the door takes you back to only hours before, when you’d been at the diner with the divine girl, Nika. God, she was the embodiment of beauty, Aphrodite reborn as a human.

The local bakery is well known among students, professors and newcomers alike, everyone knows about the bakery with the best pastries in the whole of Boston. Knowing that, it’s not even close to surprising when the line to the register reaches across the room, looking up at the menu of sorts to see what you want to pass the time.

There’s music flowing out the speakers, covering the low sound of people speaking to each other with its instrumental cling. You didn’t mind it though, it made everything just feel more real in a sense, there was no telling why, you don’t even get a chance at trying to figure it out as your phone starts ringing again, though this time it wasn’t Lucy’s voice ringing out, instead it was the infamous song of Arsenal, The Angel aka North London forever.

“Lee, to what do I owe the pleasure of a call? Did Spurs win?” You were both Arsenal through and through, but you always liked to tease her about her being a Spurs fan, the arch rivals of Arsenal being one of the things the older woman hated the most.

“Thank god, they didn’t win. No, I’m just calling to check up on you, ask how you’re settling in and all that.” She tries to be nonchalant in her tone, but having known the blonde for as long as you had, you knew that there was something more to it. Thankfully, the line’s length has barely changed since the second you walked in, so there’s plenty of time to figure out what she’s playing at.

“Leah, what do you really want? I know you as well as you know yourself.” When you hear her sigh you pump your fist in the air triumphantly, getting more than a few judgy looks and glances from the people around you.

“Well, Jordy and I are having a bit of an argument right, and as our unofficial kid we need you to settle this.” You nod before you realize that she can’t see you, quickly replying verbally.

“What’s the arguing about?” She almost cuts you off with the speed at which she responds at, the smallest giggle to her tone giving you the impression that the matter at hand wasn’t as serious as she’d first made it out to be.

“Who do you think Blu loves the most?” Giving it a second before you answer to give the illusion that you actually thought about it, you can almost imagine the smile on her face, thinking that you’re going to back her.

“Neither of you, Blu loves me the most.” Leah lets out an offended gasp at your statement, and you can hear Jordan’s laugh in the back for a second before a playful slap can be heard. On your side of the line, only a giggle can be heard with the simple murmuring of day to day life in the background.

“That’s only because you give him so many treats.” The blonde groans at you, but you just smile smugly in return, not that she could see.

“It sucks to suck doesn’t it, Lee.” The line of people in front of you gets smaller and smaller with every passing minute as people order, with there only being around five or so people in front of you now.

“Well I wouldn’t know much about sucking, right Jord?” When you finally catch on to what she’s insinuating, you gag, not even caring that there are tens of people around you who can hear.

“Ew, I don’t need to know about what you two get up to in your spare time.” The sentence is whispered, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had. “Listen, I’ve got to go, I’m about to order some pastries for me and Em so I’ll call you back later.”

By now you’re nearly at the front of the line, about to get what you came for. But they didn’t seem to want to end the call, nor the teasing they were putting you through.

“Ooh, does your girlfriend want a sweet breakfast?” If the two could see you they’d guaranteed to be laughing their heads off, the look of pure disgust on your face simply hilarious.

“Em’s not my girlfriend, even the thought of that is just like ew.” You shudder when you think about it, the girl had quickly become one of your closest friends and to even entertain the idea of being with her romantically was just gross.

“So you’re just buying her breakfast platonically?” Rolling your eyes at the conversation, you quickly plaster a smile on your face as you reach the counter.

“Hi, I’d like four croissants and a caramel coffee.” The cashier’s name tag reads ‘Amelie’, the girl looking at you confused as if she doesn’t understand what you’re saying. The women on the other side of the phone snicker and if you weren’t raised the way you were, you would’ve hung up by now.

“A caramel coffee? You mean a caramel macchiato?” She questions dryly, like she really doesn’t enjoy her work.

“Yeah let’s go with that.” You pull out your wallet from your pocket, fishing the card out whilst trying your very hardest to not drop the phone sitting in the space between your head and your shoulder.

“That’ll be 14 dollars.” Blipping your card against the side of the maschine, the transaction goes through without a problem thankfully. You smile at the girl again as she tells you that your order will be ready soon, and as you walk over to sit down at a table you can hear the kissy noises they’re making.

“Did you two just collectively decide not to hear me say ‘me and Em’, the idiot got wasted last night and I don’t have anything at home, courtesy of that drunk idiot. So me being the great friend that I am, decided that it was better to get breakfast than having to deal with a hangry and hungover Em.” You can hear the way they let out sounds of realization, understanding what you mean.

“Hey, why didn’t you bring us treats when we were hungover?” Leah asks, apparently offended that you hadn’t done this for them.

“Well, you two never took me out to parties so I never knew when you were hungover.” Despite them not being able to see it, you shrug absentmindedly, it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t get to go with them.

“Fair enough.”

“Listen, I’ll call you back later, I’ve got to carry everything home and I only have two hands, so.” The two say goodbye before hanging up, and you slip your phone back into your pocket as you walk up to the counter, taking the paper bag with you as you walk out into the warm weather again.

The walk back home is just as peaceful as the walk to the bakery, maybe the usual Boston had decided to take a break for just a day. Well whatever it was, you were thankful for it, your sleep deprived mind couldn’t handle much more than it already had.

When the lock clicks and you open the door, you’re met with the sound of groaning coming from the kitchen. Taking off your shoes at the entrance, you hang your keys back on the designated hook before you move towards the kitchen.

Peeking around the corner and into the kitchen, you quickly find the source of the noise. Because Em was standing in the middle of the room, banging her head against the counter clearly in quite a bit of pain.

Why she was hitting her head against the counter then, you didn’t know, it’s completely irrational. But if that’s what she wanted to do then you’d let her, it wasn’t really any of your business.

“Em? What are you doing?” She looks up at you when she hears your voice, her gaze murderous, her hands in her hair, massaging her head like it was the last thing she’d ever do.

“Oh, grumpy you’re finally home, where have you been and why did you let me drink so much last night?” She groans out from between clenched teeth, your laugh filling the room pitifully within seconds at her words. It is funny after all, it was Em herself who insisted on drinking last night and her suffering the consequences of her actions was hilarious.

“I was out being an amazing friend and getting us both some breakfast.” You place the bag on top of the counter, almost right in front of Em’s face, but when she makes the motion of grabbing the bag and consuming the contents, you snatch it from the counter.

The older girl whines at your actions, her head coming down against the marble countertops again, the repetitive thumping annoying you more than you’d like to admit.

“Listen, I didn’t spend 14 dollars just for you to throw it back up. Off you go, get ready and for god’s sake please do not throw up in my living room.” Putting your hands on the back of her shoulders, you gently lead her all the way out of the room and into your bathroom, sitting her in front of the toilet before going back to the kitchen. “Oh, I talked to Luce earlier, she wants to thank you for making me ‘experience college the right way’.”

Emma lets out a groan that sounds like a hybrid of a hawk getting piped and the death whistle, was getting praised by THE Lucy Bronze really worth the terrible hangover? Only Em could answer that, and she was currently hanging over the seat of your toilet, puking her guts up.

You can hear Em flushing and then moving to the sink, turning the tap on and taking some into her mouth, swirling the water around. Her bare feet slap disturbingly against the wooden floor as she makes her way towards the kitchen, your back turned towards her as she comes up behind you, her arm slinging around your shoulders.

“Wait, Luce? Luce as in Lucy Bronze? Lucy Bronze, the three time Champions League winner?” You shrug at her, turning back around to face the rest of the kitchen with Em hot on your heels.

“Yeah, I mean knowing her is not impressive.” Em’s wide eyes suggest a different story, her hands coming up to lay on your shoulders as she shakes your body back and forth.

“Wait, you know THE Lucy Bronze?” Taking her hands off your shoulders, you push the coffee cup into her free hand and a croissant into her other one. She nods thankfully before she hops up and sits on the counter, the small bag being placed between your bodies as you sit beside her on the counter.

“Did I forget to tell you that? And also why would she call me if we didn’t know each other?” Your eyebrows knit together, thinking back to all the conversations you and Em had over the past two and a half weeks.

“UH yeah, how do you know the best defender in the world?” The brunette girl slaps your shoulder playfully, studying your side profile out the corner of her eye. You look back at her in the exact same way, a small almost unknown smile on your face.

“Our mums knew each other, I’ve known Lucy since I was in diapers. And besides, I wasn’t the only one out here hiding family.” Raising your eyebrows accusingly, the girl beside you gives you a look of perplexion, not understanding what you mean by the statement.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her feet swinging off the edge, nearly smacking against your cabinet doors every time.

“I mean your scary older brother that you never told me about.” You say matter of factly, pointing at her with a ‘you know who I’m talking about’ look. The ‘ahhh’ sound that escapes her lips when she realizes who you’re talking about sounds out through the kitchen, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Oh, Cal? Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from flushed away. Oh and that reminds me, you have to come with me to this dinner he invited me to next week. No way I’m third wheeling all night long with him and his latest girlfriend.” The snort you let out is involuntary, the American girl’s description of her brother very vivid, and hopefully correct. It wasn’t like you’d seen her brother ever before, so you didn’t actually know what he looked like.

“Yeah sure I’ll help you feel less single, but no hand holding and no pretending to be together.” You look at her pointedly, making your point totally clear, no fake dating, that never turned out right. Em nods her head as she shrugs, as if to tell you ‘fair enough’.

“No way that I’d go out with you anyways, you’re far too grumpy for my liking. Maybe you can set me up with one of your mates in England.” Her hand covers her mouth so that she doesn’t laugh at your horrified expression, clearly you’re disturbed at the mere thought of Boston Tea Party part two happening if they ever broke up.

“One Boston tea party is enough mate, we don’t need another.” The sip of coffee that Em had just taken covers basically the entirety of your kitchen in a single second, the girl beside you spitting it out in surprise. “Em, come on. I’m not cleaning that up just so you know.”

Jumping down from the counter, you nearly slip on Em’s newly spit out coffee, only escaping the sticky mess by a millimeter. Her laughter clings out through the apartment, and Em makes sure to let you know that she’s sorry by telling you through her bouts of laughter.

“Look under the sink, you’ll find what you need under there.” The sound of the cabinet door opening can be heard from where you’re standing in the middle of the living room, picking up all the various things littered around the space.

“Girl, why do you have everything under here except paper towels?” The brunette calls out for you, and you shake your head in amusement at her, there was no way that Em hadn’t thought about looking in any other cabinet than the one she had her head stuck in at the moment.

“Look in the compartment above, see if you’ll find them there.” You get the confirmation that she’s found it when she lets out a short ‘aha’, you can almost imagine the way her head hits the corner of the sink when she gets up, the loud ‘fuck that hurt’ being very telling.

“You okay?” Looking around the wall in the direction of the kitchen, you see Em sticking her hand out, the thumb sticking up telling you that she was fine.

It didn’t take as long as either of you had thought to clean the kitchen up, only a few minutes and even less to clean the mess in the living room. Soon enough, the television was turned on and the two of you were sitting in silence watching the looney tunes.

“Do you think the duck piped the rabbit or is it the other way ‘round?” Em questions, her tone completely serious, as if she wasn’t asking the craziest question ever.

“Uh I don’t think Bugs Bunny piped Daffy Duck.” Looking at her incredulously, she only responds with a shrug, her theory about the two cartoon animals being shot down almost immediately.

“Well they do have sexual tension that’s for sure.” She states matter of factly, pointing at you like you would agree. Spoiler alert: you didn’t agree at all.

“Mate what goes even on in your head?” You ask her, looking at her as if she belonged in a mental institution. Em scratches her head nonchalantly, stretching out her legs and placing her feet in your lap. “Do you not have anywhere to be?”

“Like where?” She asks, her words coming out mumbled as she’s biting her nails, chewing on the bits before she spits them out. When she looks at you she sees the judgemental look on your face, stopping what she’s doing with no real sense of urgency.

“I don’t know, maybe at home? Do you not have like a hundred plants that need to be watered?” She springs up from the couch, running to the entrance where she puts her shoes on before she shouts out a quick ‘bye’ and runs out the house.

“What is she on?” You laugh through the sentence, the pure hilarity and absurdity of most situations involving your newest best friend making you laugh more often than not.

With Em being in and out of your apartment practically every day, the week leading up to the dinner with her brother and his ‘newest’ girlfriend passes by extremely fast, feeling more like a day than a week.

“Em, what am I supposed to wear? Is it like a fancy restaurant or more chill?” You shout from your room, Em changing into her clothes in the living room. The clothing hangers click against each other as you look through the clothes you’d managed to put up over the past few weeks, many different button ups and a few normal t-shirts.

“You’re asking me this 10 minutes before we go?!” She shouts back, surprised that you’re not already finished dressing yourself and getting ready, seeing as you were the first one out the house normally.

“Yeah, I just realized that I never asked you what to wear.” You shrug to no one in particular, seeing as you were the only one present in your room.

“Didn’t your parents take you to a bunch of dinners with their clients?” Em’s voice carries through the walls, especially with the woman coming closer and closer to your door.

“I’ve been to a fair few, but in my defense I’ve always had stylists helping me so putting together outfits isn’t really one of my strong points.” Pulling out a few items of clothing, you hold them up so that they’re almost exclusively in your line of sight, looking to see if they’d match.

“Fair enough, it’s not too fancy, just wear that linen shirt and some of your fancy pants.” She peeks her head into the room, looking at where you’re standing in your jeans, seemingly debating whether to wear the simple white button down or a Harvard t-shirt.

“Trousers?” You raise your eyebrow cheekily at the brunette, a small teasing smile on your face.

“Yeah yeah, you know what I mean.” Emma rolls her eyes at you whilst you place the two articles of clothing back into your closet, the hangers clicking easily against the pole they’re hooked on.

“I do, I just like to annoy you.” Hearing the door click closed, you pull the linen shirt off its hangar and pull it over your head before you unbutton your jeans and pull the ‘fancy pants’ over your legs. Buttoning up the various buttons on the slacks, you quickly tuck your shirt in before opening the door and tapping Em on her head as you pass her.

“Shut up man.” You look back at Em when you reach the entrance, picking out your fanciest pairs of shoes to show her.

“Those look good?” She studies them for a second or two before nodding diligently, pulling on a pair of relatively fancy shoes too.

“They’re better than your beat up sneakers at least.” She shrugs at your offended look, almost telling you that it’s only fair since they are beat up.

“They still have at least two, three years left in them alright. There’s no need for new ones if they work just fine.” For the second time that day, you take your keys off the hook in the hall, letting Em walk out the open door before you so that you can lock everything up.

“Are we finally taking your car?” She asks, seeing the little metal key on your keychain with hers nowhere in sight. Normally you were insistent on taking hers as your baby was almost priceless, a reminder of home that you’d come to love over the past week, seeing as you’d gotten it shortly after signing your first professional contract.

“Yeah, I need to impress your brother, right?” Smirking cheekily over your shoulder, you see Em smiling widely at you as the lock on the door clicks closed, waiting for you to follow her into the elevator.

“Can I-” She starts off, the cool air in the lift making the hair on your arms raise, the skin becoming all prickly like that of a goose.

“No.” You can see the way Em pouts almost like a petulant child through the mirror, her arms crossed over her chest as she glares at you.

“You don’t even know what I was about to ask you.” Raising a single eyebrow at her, you look down at her through the corner of your eye, like you did more often than you were willing to admit.

“No, but I do know you and that’s enough, no one other than me will ever drive my car.” The late afternoon sun glows bright orange like hot coals as the two of you step out into the humid air, the garage not too far away from the building’s entrance. Picking out the right key, you quickly unlock the door before pulling it up, revealing the gorgeous red ‘67 Mustang that Em always wanted you to drive.

The girl in question wolf whistles when she sees the car, a hand coming up to shelter her eyes from the sun beaming into them, moving towards you with slow steps. Walking into the garage, you motion for the other girl to open the door on the passenger side as you plop down into the driver’s seat.

You don’t have to feel around for very long to find the ignition, as you push the clinking keys in, smiling satisfied as the motor revs up loudly. Applying a small amount of pressure to the gaspedal, it’s not long until you’ve navigated your way out of the garage successfully and pulled onto the main road.

Pulling the seat belt over your body as soon as you’ve made it out to the main road, you waste no time in pulling your sunglasses out of their compartment and putting them over your eyes so as to not get completely blinded by the sun.

“Okay, give me the rundown of your brother, likes and dislikes, hobbies, aspirations, all the basic knowledge apart from him looking like the rat from flushed away.” Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel, you peek down at the phone that’s currently giving you directions for the restaurant, the beautiful nature almost mesmerizing.

“His full name is Callum Adam Whitmore, he’s 23 years old and he plays basketball for UConn. He likes sports, hitting on anything that has a pulse, pretending he knows how to play the guitar and pretentiously explaining movies. He dislikes losing, being told no by our parents and me on a few occasions. Hobbies are partying and gaming, aspires to go to the NBA. That’s all.” Em lists, giving you all the information you need to adequately make the assumption that Callum Adam Whitmore is kind of an arse.

“Well he sounds…nice?” There’s no denying how questionable you sound, clearly not believing the words coming out of your own mouth. Em looks at you over the tops of her own glasses, giving you a skeptical look.

“No he doesn’t, he’s an ass and to use the correct terminology, a fuckboy.” Em pushes her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose, turning the knobs on the inbuilt stereo for it to start playing music, ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations flowing softly out the speakers.

“Sing with me grumpy! I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me, I’ve got a sweeter song, than the birds in the trees.” She sings loudly, her hands gesturing for you to join her in singing as you shake your head, a small smile on your face at her antics. “Come on, sing it man! I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?”

Finally relenting at the last second possible, you join the older girl in song happily.

“My girl, my girl, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl.” Tapping along to the beat just as the last note of the song rings out, you pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, effectively ending the little karaoke session you were participating in.

“Holy shit man, that went so fast.” Em pats your shoulder as you pull into a parking space at the corner of the big parking lot, taking the keys out of the ignition before you fold your sunglasses and place them back into their compartment.

“Perks of having a really fast car.” Waiting from the brunette to step out of the car, you don’t waste a second in locking up the extremely expensive piece of machinery. You take a second to fix your hair in the rear view mirror, even though you don’t really know why, there wasn’t really anyone in that restaurant to impress now that you knew that Em’s brother was a total ass, but your instinct told you to.

“Can you hurry up?” The girl in question asks from her place in front of the restaurant door and you send her a sarcastic smile in response, half running half walking up to her.

She doesn’t say anything as she pushes the door open, in fact she doesn’t say anything until you two reach the hostess stand where she tells the worker the name of the reservation.

As the worker leads the two of you over to the table there’s a million different thoughts running through your head, why were you nervous? Why did it feel like your stomach was about to explode? Why were there so many tables in the restaurant?

You only really tune back into the real world around you when Em pinches your side, her head turned towards a table with a man sitting alone, presumably her brother. The man stands up and walks around the table to reach your side, bringing your friend into a familial embrace, before he turns to you and sticks his hand out.

There’s no avoiding the sense of deja vu you get from the action, remembering the girl from the party almost a week ago who’d done the exact same thing, but then again it was the most common form of introducing yourself.

“Cal Whitmore.” His voice is on the deeper side, not Darth Vader deep but definitely on the deeper side of the spectrum. His calloused hand grips onto yours in a confident handshake, fingers gripping onto yours harder than needed, which fits the cocky description Em had put forth.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You smile staley at him, the man moving back to his side of the table as you pull out the chair for the girl beside you, only sitting down when she’s settled.

“So, where’s your darling date Cal?” Em asks her older brother teasingly, looking around the restaurant like she’d appear just out of anywhere.

“Calm yourself Em, she went to wash her hands.” He leans back in his chair cockily, his eyes glued to the backside of one of the waitresses passing by like some horny teenage boy.

“You know what, he does kind of look like the rat from Flushed Away.” You lean in closer to Em as you whisper, studying the man’s face carefully and noticing increasing similarities between the stopmotion rat and the tall man.

“Em, what the fuck, have you been telling people that I look like the rat from Flushed Away again? I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.” He looks at the girl beside you in disappointment, his thin lips turning down quickly. Well that was until a sweet voice cut in, a soft hand with fingers adorned with rings placed on his shoulder, moving down to his chest softly.

“What has she done now?” That accented voice was familiar, and as your eyes trail up from the stranger's hand to her chest and then lastly to her face you soon realize why it was so damn familiar. The careful upwards tug of her lips to the slight curls of her hair and the furrow in her brow, there was no denying that the girl standing before you was someone you recognized.

Fucking hell, you’d just taken your best friend’s brother’s girlfriend out on a date a mere week before meeting him officially. You were officially fucked.

#woso #woso x reader #lionesses #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #leah williamson x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #10/10 series

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stllmnstr · 4 months

Text

easy mode — a lee heeseung drabble

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: brother’s best friend au

word count: 2.5k

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, (brief, non descriptive) vomit mention, veeeeery suggestive (but no explicit content/smut), sorry feminism I let heeseung win this round

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Lee Heeseung likes to do things the easy way.

It’s not that he’s lazy, just... efficient. A fan of the path of least resistance. He knows how to pick his battles and does so sparingly.

Heeseung minds his own business, keeps his eyes on the path in front of him and rarely lets them stray. And he definitely, definitely never pokes his nose into other people’s problems.

It’s a philosophy that keeps his head on straight, that allows his friendships to remain low-maintenance and sans drama. It’s what’s kept Jay at his side for the last fifteen years, even through the trials and tribulations of elementary school playground altercations, puberty-fueled fights in the middle school locker room, and most recently, the frustrating misalignment of their post-graduation work schedules.

Four years ago, Heeseung thought a bachelor’s degree would be his ticket to success, not a soul-sucking nine-to-five that leaves him itching for a drink or three most Friday nights. Luckily for him, Jay’s in the same boat.

But tonight, sitting next to his best friend on his favorite slightly wobbly bar stool, Heeseung almost misses the monotony of their usual Friday evening happy hours.

He’s nursing his third beer, which would usually go down like cold water, even though time and tipsiness have turned it lukewarm. Tonight, though, Heeseung’s eyes keep wandering towards the same corner table just over Jay’s shoulder.

And every time they do, the muscle in his jaw strains a little further. The beer on his tongue tastes a little more bitter.

Heeseung hates making things complicated. He doesn’t get involved. He doesn’t. But–

“Are you gonna do something about that?”

On the adjacent bar stool, Jay glances at Heeseung. “About what?”

Heeseung just keeps his eyes trained on that table, that spot over Jay’s shoulder.

Picking up on the hint even through the pleasant haze in his mind, Jay turns his gaze to follow Heeseung’s nonverbal cue. It takes him only a matter of seconds to locate what has his best friend in such a mood. Or rather, who. Although Jay isn’t quite sure why.

He’s digging for clarification when he looks back at his friend. “What do you mean? Did she do something weird?” It wouldn’t be exactly unlike his younger sister to do something slightly embarrassing in public.

Heeseung’s jaw just tightens further, betraying his annoyance. Finally, he puts words to his irritation, saves Jay from his suspense. “You’re gonna let that idiot put his hands all over your little sister in the middle of the bar?”

Jay frowns, turns over his shoulder once again to make sure he isn’t seeing things. He’s not. From this angle, at least, Sunghoon’s hands are at a perfectly respectable distance from you. Not that Jay could do much about it either way.

He tells Heeseung as much. “What am I supposed to do? Drag her out by her ear and force her to join a convent? Ship her off to a girls only boarding school?” Jay laughs humorlessly. He’s not exactly thrilled that you and your friends chose to patronize the same bar as him and Heeseung tonight, but he doesn’t want to linger on it either. In fact, he doesn’t want to do anything but forget his woes this evening, drown his sorrows in overpriced pints of whatever’s on tap. He’s perfectly happy with his back turned towards you. Out of sigh, out of mind and all that. “She’s twenty-two.”

And that wasn’t what Heeseung was suggesting exactly, but now that Jay mentions it…

“You’re okay with Park trying to play tonsil tennis with her then?”

“Dude,” Jay winces, setting his beer down on the bar, stomach suddenly queasy. “Gross. That’s still my little sister.”

Which is exactly the card Heeseung is hoping he’ll play. But all Jay does is sigh. If Heeseung didn’t know better, he’d think the exasperation was directed at him instead of the loser he’s pretty sure is currently trying to make himself Jay’s future brother-in-law.

Jay checks over his shoulder one final time for good measure. It confirms whatever he’s looking for. Mostly the fact that Park Sunghoon’s lips are too busy cracking mediocre jokes to be making sloppy passes at his sister in public.

Hoping to put it to rest once and for all, at least for tonight, he turns back to Heeseung. “Besides, it’s Sunghoon,” Jay reasons. He finds it in himself to reach for his beer again. “She’s known him since preschool. He’s practically like a second brother to her.” Jay takes a sip, misreading the rise in Heeseung’s agitation as familial affection. Trying to soothe it over, he concedes with a nod, “Or third, I guess. I’ll let you be her second.”

Like always, Heeseung lets it go. Goes with the flow, at least on the outside.

But even if he weren’t so committed to never rocking the boat, this is hardly the time or place to correct Jay’s assumptions that his feelings towards you are anything but brotherly. That, he decides, will have to be a revelation for another time. Preferably in a situation where Heeseung is well out of arm’s reach and Jay is in restraints of some sort.

Those, after all, are the only circumstances in which he could ever disclose just how decidedly not brotherly his feelings towards you are.

In fact, they’re a lot more aligned with that stupid game you used to make him play as kids. The one where you put on the white dress you’d gotten from your cousin as a hand-me-down, an assortment of grape juice, finger paint, and pasta sauce stains scattered along the hemline. The one where you’d gather a bunch of dandelions from your overgrown backyard and call them a beautiful bouquet. The one where you’d live out all your grandest six-year-old dreams of walking down the aisle towards a handsome prince with the latest Kidz Bop rendition of whatever love song was most popular on the radio setting the mood in the back.

The one where you’d drag Heeseung away from the player number two console, much to Jay’s unending annoyance, and force him to play the part of your groom. Even at six, you were a force to be reckoned with. An argument-winning fiend that even your older brother could rarely best in a fight.

Heeseung played along, more than anything, because he was scared to face your wrath if he declined. But he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t feel a little funny in his chest every time he watched you walk down a makeshift aisle made with your mother’s missing tablecloth.

And Heeseung doesn’t give a shit how long you’ve known Sunghoon. After all, what does Sunghoon know about your childhood dream to get married in a garden full of roses? Judging from the way it looks like he keeps trying to get you to try his drink, he doesn't even know you can’t stand the taste of Coke mixed with liquor.

But Heeseung knows. He was there the night you developed the aversion. The night you decided bottom shelf tequila and the soda you snuck from your parent’s fridge were your best friends for the evening after junior prom. The night he held your hair as it came back up a few hours later.

And he was there for the rest of it, too. All the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between that spun the tapestry of your formative years. The day you finally got your braces off and didn’t stop smiling for three weeks straight. The time you sprained your ankle trying to hide Jay’s favorite pair of sneakers in the alarmingly tall tree in your backyard. The night you cried for four hours straight when you found out Jake Sim from biology was a big, fat, liar that was indeed texting other girls for homework answers.

There may have been moments, tangled up in that swirling mix of memories, when Heeseung felt nothing but a brotherly sort of affection for you. A desire to protect you from the world and a distinct sort of pride when he inevitably failed and you rose to the challenge anyway.

But Heeseung also remembers what it felt like to stand across from you as you recited your six-year-old brain’s attempt at recreating marriage vows, and he thinks he never really stood a chance.

Glancing over Jay’s shoulder again, Heeseung watches as you lean a little further into Sunghoon, straining to hear him over the cacophony in the bar. And the anger he feels in his gut is not brotherly in the slightest. Nor is the red, hot, scalding jealousy that burns his throat every time he forces himself to swallow it down.

Searching for a distraction, he busies himself with his beer once again, lets Jay’s unwanted evaluations fall to the wayside for the time being. Immersed in the dregs of his own despair, he almost misses it. The flash of movement as you slide out from your seat next to Sunghoon.

Heeseung mumbles some excuse about needing to go to the bathroom that Jay only partially hears before he’s stepping off of his bar stool, beer forgotten on the counter behind him.

Your footsteps are easy to follow as he traces the predictable path you forge to the opposite corner of the bar. Heeseung’s bathroom excuse was a good one, he’s pleased to discover, once he realizes that’s precisely where he’ll be meeting you.

The line is long, but it moves quickly. Only a handful of minutes have passed when you emerge again. This time, Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t give you the chance to walk back and make him watch you from a distance for the rest of the evening.

Instead, he wraps the skin of your wrist in long, precise fingers, drags you to the adjacent hallway where it’s empty, quiet. Secluded. Away from any wandering eyes or unwanted ears.

Any protests of yours are overtaken by surprise, and by the time you finally find them again, they’re replaced by questions.

Heeseung may be a captain of a steady ship, a firm believer in the merits of smooth sailing, but he’s never been able to resist the urge of liminal spaces like these. Moments with enough plausible deniability that Jay won’t have a reason to give him a bloody nose or threaten his life if he so much as looks at his little sister again. Exchanges that he hopes will linger with you long after the two of you have parted ways.

Desire for ambiguity aside, the position he puts you in is compromising no matter how you spin it. Your back against the wall, and Heeseung leans over you, cages you in like he’s after something other than your answers, something more. But the gap between your bodies is deliberate, a way for him to backtrack if the situation calls for it, an out if he needs it.

Your wrist is still in his grip, light but demanding, when he finally says, “Park Sunghoon? Really?”

“What?” You hope you can blame the obvious breathlessness in your voice on shock. “What are you–?”

Heeseung won’t leave you wondering for long. “You think he can handle you?” With the way you’re wrapped up in Heeseung’s hold, the challenge, the comparison is apparent.

Your shock morphs. Hardens. “Handle me? Am I a wild animal? I don’t need to be han–”

And, oh, this is Heeseung’s favorite kind of tightrope. His very best balancing act. He loves it, thrives on it, revels in it. This exchange of heated words that never go anyway but to your head. He hopes you’re seeing fucking stars.

Heeseung leans an inch closer. He’s breaching dangerous territory. He’ll blame it on the alcohol if he has to. Glancing at your eyes, holding your gaze, he doesn’t think he will.

“Who said anything about you needing it?” He’s so close you feel his breath on your cheekbone, ghosting across your temple. “I’m talking about what you want.”

Something unreadable flickers through your gaze before you’re masking it with contempt. As if Heeseung is nothing but a pest, a fly to swat at until it stops buzzing. “Awful presumptuous, don’t you think?”

Heeseung only grins. “I don’t know.” He leans in closer. “There are a few ways we could find out, though.”

If your breath stutters, you’ll disguise it as a scoff. “Pray tell.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Heeseung inclines his head in a mockery of an apology. For a moment, he lets his eyes do what they want. You feel the heat they track in their path from your nose to your chin back up to your molten gaze. “I’d rather show you, and I don’t think I can do any of the things I want in public.”

You hate the way he does this. The way he never says what he means. The way he skirts around things with such heavy footsteps but still leaves you feeling foolish for drawing obvious conclusions. The way your heartbeat stutters regardless. But tonight, you’ll hold firm. If he wants anything from you, he’ll have to spell it out. “What are you saying?”

Heeseung is as evasive as always. “I’m saying that Sunghoon’s too nice for you.” There’s a hard edge in his eyes when he adds, “You’ll eat him alive and still be begging for more.”

Fine. If he wants to play games, then you’ll roll the dice too. Make scathing comments and heated taunts with whatever numbers you land on. This time, it’s you that leans in. “Should I make sure to find you, then? When I’m all done with him?”

You can’t tell if he’s furious or the most delighted you’ve ever seen him. “Careful,” Heeseung breathes. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing at.”

“I’m not playing at anything.” It’s a blatant lie, but you’ve become well acquainted with denial, too. Picked up a few tricks from the ringleader himself. “You’re the one that dragged me here and started demanding that I ditch my friend.”

Heeseung smiles as if you serve no purpose but to amuse him. “You let all your friends look at you like that?”

“Only the ones I really like.”

But now you’re under his skin. “Careful,” he repeats, even lower this time. “I’m not as nice as him.”

You won’t heed any warnings, and especially not ones given from him. He’s all talk. All bark and no bite. You almost wish he would bare teeth, just once. “What are you gonna do?” Unblinking, you hold his gaze. “Handle me?”

A blurred line dissolves completely. Heeseung’s resolve slips, just a fraction. “Is that an invitation?”

“A challenge,” you correct, sliding out of his grasp, maneuvering away from his hold. This time, he has no choice but to turn as you begin to back away, to let his eyes follow your lead.

After his misstep, the results of this game are under your sole control. You have choices, ones that leave him in the dust and ones that put a trophy in his wandering hands. In the end, you discard it all. You have only one final demand for him. It’s a whisper that’s barely audible, “Rise to it.”

Heeseung doesn’t need to hear it twice.

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note: I was having serious heeseung brother's best friend brainrot on my friday evening and decided to make it everyone's problem. (you're welcome/I'm sorry). and thanks for reading! thoughts, comments, tags, reblogs, and screaming are appreciated as always <3

#enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung x you #heeseung x you #heeseung x reader #heeseung fic #heeseung fanfic #heeseung drabble

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

My heart is yours

a/n I know this ain't TLOU gif but I had to. Look how this man could hold you. Anyways... happy reading. This just came out of nowhere.

summary: Jackson doesn't seem to kill the fears in Joel's mind, only awaking new kind of doubts. Can you actually be in love with him or is it a hopeless dream that Joel is chasing?

Requested and inspired by my little lilly 🪷

warning: past injuries, hand trauma.

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Joel didn't care for any of it. He didn't care about a safe space to live in. He didn't care about what or where he slept. What he ate and if he ate in general. Pills and alcohol were all he needed at night. Even after twenty years, life hadn't been the same. And by that point, Joel simply didn't care. He lived in black and white. There was no in-between. He no longer believed in happiness. No longer strived to make a change. He was simply surviving.

Yet Joel's imagination would paint pictures of a somewhat different world. A handful of pills later, the blanket that laid over his shoulders would turn into a lover's embrace. Where the pillow felt like the soft flesh of the significant other. Joel was thankful when he had no recollections of the night like that. Where there was blank darkness and no evidence that he had been nothing but lonely. Longing. Somewhere deep down, longing to make a change. Most importantly, longing to be loved. Longing for someone to see him. To dust off the pain and make him feel something different.

Then Ellie came along, and you were right beside her. At first, Joel didn't even understand why Marlene wanted him on this job when you were with Ellie. Wild animals were less frenzied than you. Surely getting Ellie to the fireflies was like a walk in the park for you. That was until Joel noticed your trembling hands. The way you rubbed your palms together. How you only stick to knives for self-defense.

You had opened up about your past one night as you both sat under the starry sky, with Ellie fast asleep not far away from you. The cold temperature was extremely brutal for your hands. The ache seemed never-ending. "Do you want these?", Joel broke the silence, taking off his much thicker gloves before handing them to you. You just started at him. Of course, you had talked before. You've been on the road with him for some time now. But it always seemed cold and bitter. If there was one thing Joel was extremely good at, it was making people feel like they were the problem.

You shook your hand, inching towards the fire, moving your palms closer to the flame. Joel gazed at you, letting out a sigh. It was odd considering the type of your communication but he could feel the strange feeling bubbling inside him. The feeling would perk up if he would woke up to you by his side or if your head would fall onto his shoulder as you dozed off while keeping watch. Even when you laughed alongside Ellie, Joel couldn't help that strange sensation in his stomach.

"I would prefer if you took them. I'm not cold anyway", Joel spoke up again. "And I'm not a cripple", "I never said that", you turned to him quickly. Even in the dim light, Joel could see the tears that glossed over your eyes. "Your eyes say enough", you bit back, turning your attention to the flame in front of you. Joel wasn't sure why he was even doing this, but he moved forward, resting his hands on your shoulder. It had been weird between you two. You had kissed a couple of times. And if the first kiss was the aftermath of too much adrenaline after a near-death experience. The second time had no justification. "What happened", Joel said softly, rubbing your shoulders ever so slightly. He had once selfishly examined your hands while you slept. Joel knew that was an invasion of privacy, but his eyes caught onto the scars and his fingers moved without a second thought.

You let out a bitter laugh. "I was a bad girl. I got involved with bad people, and well, bad people do bad things", Joel had seen. Had inspected the scars and permanent discoloration that covered your hands. He wondered what had happened. Wondered who were the people that had done this. Most importantly, he wondered how good it would feel to make them slowly suffer for all that was done to you.

Joel had never done this when you two were fully awake, never fully aware. He pulled you closer to him. Your hands instantly clasped over his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Silent tears fall down your cheeks. Oddly enough, Joel had been a safe space for you. Someone you knew would go that extra mile to make sure that you were safe. "You have nothing to fear now. I've got you. You can count on me, sweet", Joel said, making you let out a silent sob as you held onto him tighter. "What if I fail to protect you though…", you whispered. Joel quickly turned you around in his arms so he could face you. "Didn't seem like a problem when you stabbed that guy in the throat", Joel said, referencing the attack in the store, but you just narrowed your eyes at him. "We have each other, and now that Ellie has a gun, believe me, we are good", you let out a light chuckle while leaning your head against Joel's chest. That was the night you saw a future in him. Leaving you to hope that Joel felt the same way.

Ellie was bubbling through all the stories of today. In all honesty, she was supposed to do her homework while you fished off with dinner, but you didn't have the heart to stop her. Seeing her so full of life was refreshing. You three haven't been in Jackson very long. A month at best, and it still seemed like a dream. Tommy had very kindly landed you a small cottage at the side of the town. They even arranged a little celebration to welcome you, Ellie, and Joel in. Joel of course snarled through most of it.

Holding onto your hips as he zoned in and out. Partly listening to the conversations you were having with people that were around him and partly just trying to ground himself. He hated places like this. There was too much buzz. Joel wasn't used to it. Not to mention the attention that was put on you three. That was way too exhausting. You would occasionally turn to him. Running your fingers through Joel's hair or simply resting your hands on top of his hands that were lazily curled over your middle.

A protective gesture. You called it Joel's circle. He did this often. Even if you two were in the comfort of your new home. His arms would wrap around your middle. The only moving space you had was within Joel's embrace. You knew it was still so hard for him to feel safe. To not fear that something was going to happen. Joel loved running over the worst scenarios. Your broody, grumpy grape. You shifted in his embrace. Your eyes searched his tired ones. "Should we make a grand outing? So that everyone would think that we are going to fuck our night away?", you said casually, making Joel let out a laugh. His bold ray of sunshine. God, that smart mouth of yours drove Joel insane. "Depends on how loud you are willing to moan", you let out a gasp, shoving him slightly, as you got lost in Joel's smile. A rare sight for sore eyes.

Everyone was quick to label you as Joel's girl. It was in a way strange at first because no matter where you went, you were met with the same greeting, but then again, you couldn't blame them. Joel watched you like a hawk. Eyes rarely left you if you were in his sight. Always looking. Always watching. Even here, he was a man who was feared. Well, besides the fact that most females were ready to hook their arms around his neck. You wondered if he ever noticed how they drooled over him. You were hoping that he didn't because if Joel chose any of them over you… Not that you had a say, but your heart would be shattered.

"And then I said that I was done with the project", Ellie continued to chirp, "But I gave you guys credit, don't worry", you let out a laugh at her words. You three had lots of fun building that paper rocket ship. Ellie came home with an assignment to build her dream. Seeing the space was one of them. So you three sat on the living room floor for hours. Small talk lingers. The plate with cookies was nearly empty. "Did you give credit to Joel's back?", you turned to Ellie, and the smirk on her face was outrageous considering that she was still a child. "Got a special mention on the title page", Ellie said sheepishly, and you two fell into fits of laughter just as Joel stepped into the kitchen.

"What are we laughing about?", Joel moved straight to you, planting a gentle kiss on the side of your head. His usual way of greeting you. You closed your eyes at the sensation, savoring the feeling of his lips against your skin. "Honestly?", Ellie asked, and Joel nodded. "How I wrote a special appreciation poem for your back because you helped with the ship", Joel rolled his eyes at that. Ellie took great joy in making fun of his age. But Joel never really cared about it. As long as she was happy, so was he.

Joel noticed the jar in your hands and how your palms flexed as you tried to open it. Without a single word, Joel placed his hands over yours. Pressing ever so slightly as he turned the lid off. You bit your lip. That was another thing that Joel did. If it wasn't necessary, he never took the things you were trying to open away from your hands. He just offered additional strength with his hands. It was his way of making sure that you didn't feel worthless. Joel would notice your struggles; he always did. But he had learned to read your body language and to know when you needed his aid and when it was best to leave you to it alone.

You turned to face him, meeting his eyes with a silent thank you that he answered with yet another kiss to your temple. "Okay, you two are doing that cute shit again", Ellie's voice made you both turn her way. "Don't you look at me like that? Will I have to drag you two to the altar or are you going to do something about it yourself?", she blurted out, making your eyes grow big. "You get back to your homework, miss, 'cause if it's not done before dinner, you're not eating", Joel pointed a warning finger the girl's way, which she graciously met by sticking out her tongue.

A light blush crept up on your cheeks. Alter seemed way out of reach. Well, for now at least. You weren't even sure if you two were together. You assumed you were, but… You had never talked. It was a silent promise. As if you claimed one another without words. Leaving it to the actions. Joel held on to you like you were his lifeline most nights. Face buried in the crook of your neck. Arms pulling you as close to his chest as possible. If nightmares clouded his mind, you would pull him closer to yourself. Gently guiding him to lay down practically on top of you as you brushed your fingers through his salt-and-pepper. hair You loved them. It was almost embarrassing that sometimes you just twirled Joel's curls between your fingers with such admiration. You knew he never found himself beautiful, but in your eyes, he was the most handsome male you had ever laid your eyes on.

"Will you grab the plate, I…", you didn't even have to finish the sentence. Joel was already moving through the kitchen. "How was patrol?", "Nothing new, although the weather is getting better", you hummed at Joel's words. The sun was shining for most of the day today, and you could tell that everyone was in a much more cheerful mood. "How was the meeting with Becky?", Becky was a woman in her eighties. She had worked many years in the medical field, especially with post-trauma treatments. You visited her every other day, and she guided you through different exercises to rebuild the strength of your hands. "It was okay, but as you can see, I can barely hold the spoon," you said as you lifted your trembling head up for Joel to see, but he didn't find much amusement in that. He feared that you pushed yourself too much with this. Stepping closer, Joel took both of your hands into him before pressing them to his lips. "Please wash your hands before you pour my bowl; I don't want Joel's saliva in it", Ellie sassed from the other side of the room. "Ellie", you said with a chuckle, and Joel threw a towel her way, making you both fall into fits of laughter.

Jackson felt like a dream. Like a lucky coin. A four-petal clover. You name it. Yet Joel still couldn't settle his mind. Now more than ever, it felt so clustered. He watched you and Ellie laughing over dinner. The table he also sat at, but did he deserve to be here? Or were you two better on your own? Joel wasn't blind; he saw how people practically melted when you walked through the streets offering everyone a smile. You brought life to an already lively town. Contributing to help anywhere and everywhere. Seeing you shift from this constantly scared girl to a lovely young woman was a huge gift to Joel.

He wanted you to live. To experience happiness and joy. He wanted you to be carefree. To dance your nights away. To be twirled around the dance floor by different males and females. You deserve to live. Something Joel probably couldn't afford to be a part of. Moments when he saw younger males looking your way, talking amongst themselves as they looked you up and down made him both unimaginably angry and jealous. First of all, you weren't an object to be gawked at. You deserved a respectful partner. And second of all, Joel knew if he had met you earlier, when he was full of life, it would have been so different. He would have given you everything. He would be the one twirling you around the dance floor. He would have taken you on dates by the river. Played you different songs on his guitar. Now that side of him was dead. Buried by all the pain. Buried beside Sarah.

"Joel…", after feeling your hand on his, Joel quickly turned your way. Your brows were crushed down. "You haven't touched your food, hun", you said softly. Joel's eyes drifted to the plate in front of him. The tightness in his throat and chest increased. As the thoughts of being only a burden swirled through his brain. Why were you here? Were you simply scared? Scared to explore something more because he was here? Would Ellie be happier if you settled for someone younger? It sure would make a more normal-looking family. Joel quickly stood up, nearly knocking the chair over as he rose. "I'm not hungry; I'm going for a walk", he said coldly as he stepped out of the kitchen. You called his name a couple of times. Joel braced himself against the fence. Hand on the chest as he tried to take in at least a single gulp of air.

You waited for Joel to return almost all night, but he didn't show up. You had wondered if you should go and try to find him, but deep down you knew that your wandering down the street in the night would only add to whatever that was going on with him. You've got Ellie ready for school. Making extra scrambled eggs and scribbling a little note for Joel. You're not alone. You can count on me, it said. A tiny heart by the end of it. Now you could only hope that it wasn't something you had done.

You pupped to help out another elderly lady while you waited for Ellie to be done with her classes. She made the most delicious meat pies and pastries. The delicious smell followed you around the bakery all day. You did as much as your hand allowed you, for the rest compensating with your smile. Already thinking about how you were going to surprise Joel with a pie that you had made yourself. He was a sweet guy deep down. And it had been way too long since you all had a proper pie.

You slipped inside the school just as the last class was finishing. The sight of Ellie nearly leaning out of her chair as she followed every word that the teacher was saying was endearing. She needed this. Needed other kids. Needed to learn. Needed to feel normal. "Y/N, right?", you quickly turned to the side. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump", the guy, who wasn't that much older than you, said, rubbing the back of his neck. You've seen him around, but if you were being honest, you had no clue who he was. As if sensing this, the guy quickly said, "Ben, one of Ellie's teachers. We've met at the bar". You smiled at him, "Right, yes, sorry. A lot of new faces still". Your eyes drifted back to Ellie. For some reason, you felt uneasy in his presence.

"So am… You… I'm making such a fool of myself", Ben rambled on, quickly popping into what you assumed was a teacher's room. For a split second, you wondered if you should just walk away, but Ben walked out with a big bouquet of flowers you didn't even know the name of. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "I was hoping that you would pop in today. Got you those", you knew that you needed to say something but you felt lost for words. No one had ever gotten you flowers and… Ben carefully placed the bouquet in your hands. "You just caught my eye, and I've been wanting to ask you out. I know this is super straightforward", you shook your head, "I… they are beautiful, thank you, but… I." A part of you was screaming that this was wrong. You wanted to tell him that you were with Joel. But were you with Joel? Your head felt like it was spinning, but you just didn't feel it. It didn't feel the same. Didn't feel like it did with Joel.

"Look… I'm sure you are a really sweet guy, but I'm in a… Well, I like someone else, and I just", your voice sounded so small. You hated that you weren't confident. Ben gave an awkward nod, "Right, the big guy. I should have guessed", "I'm sorry; I'm sure there's a sweet girl out there for you. Thank you for… well, for the flowers though. Unless you want to keep them". You pushed the bouquet towards him, but he only shook his head and said, "Keep them, and I hope we can still get to know each other. Like friends, of course", you smiled at him right as the door opened and kids spilled out of the classroom.

"So, wait, he just did like… Did he kiss you?", Ellie hadn't stopped talking ever since you left the building. To her, this was the most hilarious thing ever, while you still tried to process it all. "Of course not. I would have never let him do that", you said. "Do you reckon he fantasizes about you?", you glared at her quickly. Ellie only lifted her hands in defiance.

"A pie and flowers. Are we celebrating something?", you didn't even realize that you were standing in front of the cottage with Joel leaning against the open door. You opened your mouth, but Ellie beat you to it: "Ben got Y/N flowers; bet he is like in love with her", she said as she wiggled her eyebrows at Joel. You knew this was innocent. You knew she didn't understand what was going on between you two. So you couldn't blame her, but you wished she hadn't said it like that. Joel's jaw clenched. Anger washed over him. He turned away from you moving to the back patio.

Joel knew who Ben was. Most importantly, Joel saw the way Ben looked at you. That guy was a good bit younger than him. Broad shoulders, piercing eyes. Desire burned inside him. Ben wanted you and Joel could see it. Did you want him as well? "Joel, wait, Joel,", he heard your pleading voice as he rushed down the little stairs, moving to the backside garden. "Go back to your boyfriend", Joel snarled through gritted teeth. "Ben is just Ellie's teacher. I didn't even…", Joel turned to you quickly, "Who gives you flowers", "Well, maybe he's just being sweet", you knew that you both knew that that was bullshit. And honestly, now you wondered if downplaying it would only make it worse.

"Maybe he just likes you", Joel spat back, frustration dripping off him. "Do you seriously don't see it? That fuck had a big old crush on you ever since you came here". Those words, however, did take you by surprise because you didn't see it. You never acknowledged Ben's presence. You didn't care what Ben was doing. You never looked for it. "Well, I didn't see it, no", Joel gave you a look that clearly showed you that he didn't believe you. "Oh, come on. I've never had a man show me attention before you; how am I supposed to know?", you asked, raising your hand in frustration. Growling as Joel turned and started to walk again. "Joel, stop fucking walking or I'll throw the fucking flowers at you!", you shouted as your frustration laced through you. Joel stopped in his tracks.

"Do you seriously feel like he's my type?", you approached the man in front of you slowly, dropping the flowers to the side as you walked. "Joel", "I don't know", he muttered under his breath. He wasn't good at this thing. He wasn't good with his emotions. But the fear of losing you crippled him. "Well, my type is anything but that. I like my man mature like wine or cheese", you said, moving to cup Joel's cheeks. "Come on, turn the frown upside down", you encouraged him slowly, but Joel only shifted his eyes to you. Piercing through your soul.

"Listen to me, you stubborn hulk. This", you took a hold of his hand, pulling it up and pressing it over your heart, "Beats for you. I picked you a long time ago. And if you think some thirty-something dickhead can come in and swoop me away", you shook your head. "Yeah, have more faith in yourself, especially when all of Jackson's females have an orgasm when you walk by", you sassed. "No, they don't", Joel argued, but you only crooked your head to the side, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you mean it?", Joel asked, arms now sneaking to hold onto your hips, "That my heart is yours? With my whole life", you smiled up at him. Joel leaned in. A breath hitched in your throat as he erased the last bit of distance between you two and your lips met his. You felt like you had blacked out for a moment as all the fireworks started to explode from within you. You held on to Joel for dear life as he pressed you closer to his body. His other hand cupped your cheek. It was desperate. Needy. Long overdue, and you couldn't suppress the giggle that fell from your lips as you two finally parted. Hiding your face in Joel's chest.

You could feel how fast his own heart was beating. Smiling to yourself that it was you who had such an effect on him, "I love you", he whispered. Barely audible but more than enough for you to step on your tiptoes and kiss him again. "I'm in a daring mood to let the whole of Jackson know that I am yours", you mumbled after a while in Joel's embrace. "Pick your words carefully, baby girl,", Joel warned, but you only smirked back at him. Before pulling the devilish smile, "Want to fuck me against the electricity pole?", Joel let out a surprised laugh before shaking his head at you. Scooping you up in his arms quickly, making you let out a scream followed by fits of giggles as he carried you back into the cottage.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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mangoshorthand · 8 months

Note

oh, and it was a guy who decided to tell me that as soon as all my clothes were off

Original request:

I have a really personal request of thats ok w u. my first time having sex i was called ugly and obese, and it still sticks with me nowadays so i shy away from being fully exposed/on top/having the lights on bc im scared they were right and its gonna happen again - so how would 5 deal w this in a partner? if this is too weird 4 u then just ignore

Thanks to @kaybreezy3000 for reading through this before I posted and making me sound less like a wildly-masturbating 19th century nobleman. Note for you at the end, anon.

Venus and Cupid | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 4k words, Rated E

Five was an observant man: he had to be. If he hadn’t learned to pick up on the details then it's doubtful he could have even made it to adulthood.

So he noticed that you had quite specific tendencies very early on, back when you were first seeing one another. The first time you had sex, he thought you leaving your clothes on was pretty hot - it seemed as if you were so desperate to have him inside you that you couldn’t delay it even the short time it would take to get undressed - but it quickly became apparent to him that this was something more.

You always seemed to leave as many clothes on as humanly possible, or else turn off the lights before undressing shyly, almost reluctantly, always keeping something clutched around you.

His first reaction was to feel frustrated, (okay, frustrated and insecure, if you insisted on wheedling that out of him). Were you even into it?

He loved the sex you had, and you certainly seemed to get something out of it, but all the while you were covering yourself from his lustful gaze like he was a lecherous drunk eyeing you from down an alley.

He just didn’t understand it. Things were great outside the bedroom: you laughed together, you had intelligent, lively conversations…you even romanced him in a way nothing had taught him to expect. You anticipated his wants, you surprised him with dates and the occasional gift. You made him feel special and wanted in every way except this one way.

And he needed it that way too.

Maybe there was something about sex that brought home to you that he was old enough to be your father. Maybe you saw his hungry gaze as the leer of a dirty, predatory old man...and that thought hurt because it held too much truth.

He finally asked you about it after a session of sex in which you looked distinctly uncomfortable riding him, avoiding his gaze and keeping the bed sheets wrapped around you.

He brought it up in a way typical to him: blunt antagonism as defense, masking his real insecurities. “Question: why are you with me?”

“Because I like you,” you replied, confused by his tone.

“Sure,” he said, the smallest trace of sarcasm in his voice, “but there’s a problem here, isn’t there?”

You turned to him on the pillow, and you were greeted by his expectant, irritated smile. He raised a brow, clearly prompting you to state this so-called ‘problem’. When you seemed none the wiser, he continued.

“The problem seems to be that you hate having sex with me.”

You looked at him, nonplussed.

“No I don’t. Why would you say that?”

He shook his head with the trace of a bitter laugh.

“So you just hate me looking at you, is that it? You know, nobody’s forcing you to sleep with me. We could just end it if you can’t stand me ogling you.”

You turned away from him, folding your arms across your chest protectively, hugging yourself. You tried not to cry, but tears were already welling in your eyes, threatening to overspill and roll down your face. You could feel him slipping away; sense the rejection coming on the breeze.

At the sound of a sniffle, Five softened slightly

“Why do you always cover yourself?” he said, finally.

You choked back the tears.

“B-because I’m self-conscious about my body, okay?”

Five sounded incredulous.

“You’re self-conscious about your body?”

You nodded, still not looking at him.

“Don’t bullshit me,” he said, suddenly irritated again, “You expect me to believe someone who looks like you is self conscious about her body? You’re beautiful, what the hell do you got to be self conscious about?”

His words, though spoken in a tone of irritated disbelief, gave you a warm feeling in your chest. In fact, it was his irritation that assured you of his honesty. That feeling of affirmation brought more tears at first, and it took a few moments to recover.

Five waited for you to begin patiently, able to tell by now that you’d been holding something back, and realizing for the first time that perhaps this wasn’t all about him.

You told him everything.

Your first sexual experience was with somebody who called you ‘ugly’ and ‘obese’ as soon as your clothes were removed. The first man to touch you in that way had used that privilege, not to lift you up and make you feel beautiful, but to tear you down, destroying your confidence in the process. Now, being in full view when having sex was almost unbearable to you, so you avoided Five seeing you completely naked and you avoided being on top as far as you could, lest it break the illusion and he see you for what you really were.

You stopped occasionally to cry, unable to meet Five’s eyes. It was partially the memories, and partly the fact that you were bearing your soul to him in this way: totally vulnerable. You were giving power to him now; knowledge of how to hurt you worse than almost anything if he chose.

As he listened, Five’s heavy brows lowered further and further, his lips becoming thinner and thinner, occasionally shaking his head as you unfolded the tale.

“Shit.” he said, after you finished your story, and then fell into silence. After almost a full minute, he spoke in a low, serious tone.

“What was his name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, wiping your eyes.

“What was his name?”

You told him.

“Well he’s a fucking idiot, you know that right? A nasty little…you know where he lives?”

“No.”

“No problem, I can find him.”

“Five-”

“First I’ll pull out his fucking fingernails.”

“Five, no.”

“I’ll kill that cunt slow. Ignorant-”

“Five!”

Your raised voice finally made him turn his head.

“What good would killing him do?”

He blinked.

“It would make me feel better,” he said, though the murderous fantasies seemed to be fading from behind his eyes.

Then, he shook his head, casting the thoughts away like a dog shaking off water.

“....I admit that making me feel better is low on our priority list right now.”

He held out his arms to you. When you didn’t immediately enter his embrace, he spoke in a voice so soft, and so caring that you couldn’t deny him.

“Please, my love.”

My love?

That was new.

You leaned up against him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one around your shoulders, the other around your waist.

“You don’t have to feel self-conscious or…ashamed around me. You know I would never - you know that I…I worship you, for Chist’s sake. I’m desperate to see all of you. That guy was an ignorant, tasteless bastard. You don’t - surely you know that?”

You nodded uncertainly, another tear running down the side of your nose.

“I guess,” you said, mouth against his firm pectoral, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, “but I always get scared. Like you might…like one day you might see me and...get grossed out. Because…I know, I know I’m not sexy. I know I’m -”

“You think you aren’t sexy?” he said, speaking as if you’d just claimed that you were an organic cucumber, “are you crazy?”

He pulled away from you, a hand on each shoulder so he could look you dead in the eye.

“Jesus, you think I’d be ‘grossed out’ if I saw you? I’m not blind, y'know; a bedsheet or a light switch can’t really hide your body from me. You’re so sexy, I can barely think straight sometimes - how in the hell can you not see that? I’d choose you for looks over any girl, every damn time. The other day when you were wearing that tight black dress- god, I pitched a tent big enough to sleep eight.”

And the way he looked down at your silhouette had you almost believing him.

You smiled, nevertheless self conscious of the idea of your black dress being more form-hugging than you’d thought. Five continued, sweeping his hair carelessly out of his eyes.

“And it’s not just your face or your body, it’s the way you carry yourself. The way your hair falls, your smile, the color of your skin. It’s just attractive. It’s hot. End of story.”

The vehemence in his face made you smile a little more. He looked the way he did when he’d just completed a complex mathematical proof: buzzing with the knowledge of pure, objective truth. From his perspective, he had just conclusively proved an undeniable fact.

“I know I’m biased because I love you, but anyone would say that you’re beautiful. When you met Klaus, he took me aside and told me I was punching way over my weight. I didn’t even argue-”

But you interrupted him.

“You love me?”

He fell silent abruptly, playing back his last words in his mind.

Yup, he’d definitely said it.

He swallowed. He was an idiot.

“Well yes. Actually, I do.”

Before you had time to do anything except gape, he rushed to fill the silence:

“I know it’s not been too long, and I don’t expect you to feel the same-”

“But I do.”

He fell silent again, his eyes on yours.

They were strange eyes. Their shape and color, although beautiful, were normal enough, but there was a little something in their expression that always took you firmly by the throat. One might fall into those eyes and drown, yet his hand, coming to take yours, tethered you to the water’s edge.

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything,” you breathed.

His lips gave a spasm and, for a moment, you both thought he was going to cry too, but instead, he just smiled. He smiled for you a lot, but the clear, open love in this one was like being bathed in warm sunlight, and you luxuriated in it.

Then, he laughed. He giggled, in fact. It bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth before he could temper it into anything that sounded more sophisticated.

“We love each other,” he said, grinning in a dopey, infectious way.

When you smiled back, he cupped your chin gently, those eyes keeping your face upturned to his just as firmly as his hand did. He leaned into you.

At first, his kiss was tender, and your lips slid past and around one another like an embrace. But when he leaned forward, forcing you back onto your pillows, his tongue entered your mouth, and the kiss took on a more amorous character. He made a low noise as he deepened his tongue’s quest into your mouth, and you reciprocated with a soft bite to his lower lip.

He growled, and heat spread through you as his kiss became rough and firm, pressing you into the pillows now with the weight of his body. All the tenderness had transferred from his lips to his hands, one stroking reassuringly through your hair, and the other at your waist, giving you feather-light, electric touches through the bedsheets.

Your hands came to his subtly muscled back, and cinched him closer to you. The heat was concentrating now, pooling in your lower stomach and swirling there as his unyielding lips let you know that resistance was futile. Your skin was alight with every gentle, loving touch from his fingers, now starting to work their way beneath the bedsheets.

He broke the kiss just long enough to speak. His voice matched the kiss: deep, rough and feral.

“Let me see you.”

Though it was a command, it had the sound of a request, so you took it as such.

Despite the desire now aching in your guts, your fears were still there: perhaps irrational in this situation, but no less real. Beneath the sheets, Five’s hand squeezed and massaged the flesh just above your hip. The touch spoke of his renewed need, but it spoke also of his restraint: his hand had stopped just shy of the area you’d usually hide.

“Please.”

And the word, in that husky voice, broke you.

“Okay,” you said, arousal threatening to be overcome by nerves, “just…take it slowly.”

He nodded distractedly. His eyes were roaming your skin as he came to kneel between your legs. Both of his hands were now inching the bedsheets down, from your waist to the swell of your hips.

He made a low noise in his throat, and his soft hair fell onto the newly-exposed torso as he bent to kiss it, hot presses of his lips against sensitive skin. His hands skimmed you, feeling out your flesh.

“So beautiful,” he growled, looking up at you, fingers worming their way beneath the sheets again, “is this okay?”

You nodded as he pulled the sheets down another few inches, exposing your stomach to just below the navel. As the air met the newly-exposed skin, you felt gooseflesh prickle across your arms, your stomach tightening with the feeling of exposure. “Pretty girl.” Five cooed, running his hands across your tummy, his pressure gentle, but proprietary.

With another slow shift of the sheets, and you were exposed to your pubic bone. He let out a breath and squeezed the skin of your hips, smiling at you broadly. It was the dangerous, toothy smile.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to get you over this. I’m going to have to make you realize how fucking hot you are, because I’m going to need to hold onto you just like this while you bounce on my cock. I need to watch these tits bounce while you ride me.”

He squeezed your flank harshly, making you gasp, and you arched your back into him as he leaned forward to take each nipple into his mouth. There was a low rumble in his throat as he first nibbled, and then soothed each tortured bud with his tongue. Your whines tailed off into moans, as arousal and the intensity of his desire once again overcame your fears.

You felt his satisfied smile around your nipples, and then his hands left your hips to paw and knead your breasts, weighing and bouncing them in each hand.

He gave you another kiss on the lips before straightening up, so that he was kneeling over you again, head tilted as he looked down on you, almost speculatively. The position made it obvious that he was hard again, his bulge stretching the fabric of his white boxer-briefs, leaning up against his stomach and beginning to put pressure on the elastic of his waistband. His pretty, curved cock was perfectly outlined by the material:

“I’m going to make you feel so confident that you’ll push me onto the bed, trap me between your thighs and ride me so hard I get a concussion against the headboard.”

Though the idea made you feel another squirm of discomfort, the humor combined with the lust behind his eyes made you give a small smile.

“Not today,” you said, in a small voice.

The memories were still too close…the hurt from recalling them was only just over the horizon.

“Not today.” he confirmed, eyes roving down to where the bedsheets still covered your sex, “but can I see your pussy, beautiful?”

“Yes.” you said, barely more than a whisper.

“Mm. Good girl,” he groaned, and pulled the bedsheets down to your knees.

There you were, fully exposed to him…totally bared. Internally, you were fighting between the urge to cover up, and the urge to please him. You still felt exposed, like a turtle without its shell, vulnerable laid out in front of him.

He was still taking it all in, eyes lingering on where your thighs were as close together as they could be with his body between your calves.

Part of you was still terrified it was coming. Perhaps he wouldn’t be cruel - he’d probably try to be polite about it - but he was still about to reject you now that he’d finally got a real look. Perhaps it was okay when his imagination could fill in the blanks, but now he’d actually seen you -

“Oh,” he said.

And in that syllable, all your fears were proved baseless. The sound was a moan of pure, wanton appreciation.

His tongue slid out to wet his lips, still pink and swollen from his hard kisses. His dominant left hand slid immediately into his underwear, and he began to pump himself vigorously. Apparently, he was more than ready for this evening’s second round.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, speeding his strokes as his eyes roamed your exposed flesh, “you’re so hot.”

As his eyes came to your thighs and pussy again, he increased the frequency of his strokes, fist still out of sight down his underwear.

“Five,” you said, anxiously, still feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“Just a few minutes, baby.” he said, desperately, “Look what you’re doing to me.”

Beneath the material, he retracted his foreskin and pressed the head of his cock against the small, wet patch that had appeared there. The pink of his deeply-flushed cock tip was just visible through the fabric, rendered semi-transparent by his precome.

“I’m already leaking.” he said, agony creeping into his rough voice, “Just a few more minutes. Just until I finish.”

His eyes looked hazy, far away somehow, transported to a place where his body’s need ruled him with an iron fist. It was enchanting to behold, impossibly arousing: Five Hargreeves (the man of impeccably starched, pressed and tightly-buttoned dress shirts), was keening in front of you, totally undone with his hips gyrating into his own fist as he visually devoured your body.

“Let me eat you,” he said, begging now, “I want to jack myself off with my head between those thighs.”

And he groaned at the idea, throwing his head back and speeding his pumps.

Your body didn’t give you the opportunity to turn him down. Your pussy throbbed and slick wetness drooled onto your thighs as you looked up at him, all pale skin, latent strength and desperation.

You gave a small nod, and he bent, first to kiss your lips and then to press small pecks onto each thigh.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, “open your legs for me. Show me that pretty pussy.”

And that way, with small kisses progressively further up your thighs, he coaxed your legs wide.

“Good girl,” he crooned, his hand leaving his leaking cock only for the minute it would take to run his index finger up and down your slit.

You shivered at the contact, too sensitive. He’d already fingered and fucked you to two orgasms tonight, and the feeling of his mouth replacing his finger made you buck immediately.

“Nngh - Five.”

In response to your moan, he tasted you with a flat tongue.

Your flavor, a potent honey, made his cock twitch in his hand, and he wrapped his free arm around your leg, drawing you even closer to him. Your soft folds soaked his lips, serving to excite him more.

“Fuck,” he whispered, still in that low growl. His exhale sent warm air dancing across your swollen clit, “you’re so perfect. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

You had no time to glow with his praise, because he was sucking your clit too hard for you to do anything but gasp. As his mouth worked you, his tongue moved rapidly inside his mouth, flicking deliberately across your aching, needy nub. His tongue pulsed to the same beat as his hand inside his underwear, unconsciously matching the rhythm of your pleasure to his.

“God, Five!”

All the shame and discomfort was gone, washed away by the tide of swirling heat. The pleasure curled inside you, winding tighter and tighter. All that mattered now was Five’s clever mouth, pushing you inexorably towards another orgasm.

Your conscious brain let go, and your hand gripped his hair tightly, not aware that you were pulling him even closer to you, forcing his nose into your mound.

He grunted like a wounded bear, surprise causing his hand to falter around his cock. It was hard to concentrate, so preoccupied was he by the fact that you were taking control, pressing his face deeper into your folds. It was quite possibly the hottest thing he had ever experienced.

Recovering, he gripped himself even tighter, veins and tendons standing out in his left forearm as he worked himself almost violently.

He was too close now, and it made him clumsy, completely losing the rhythm of his suckles and tonguing.

“Nooo!” you whined, thighs tightening around his head, “Like before!”

Though lightheaded with the knowledge that your thighs were crushing his ears, (he was wrong earlier, this was definitely the hottest thing he had ever experienced), Five reluctantly let up on his protesting manhood and concentrated his efforts on your pussy.

Soon, you were gasping and moaning, writhing, and taking him with you with the power of your thighs.

“F-Five. Fuuuck. Oh fuck, that’s it!”

Your cunt gushed onto his face as he brought you to orgasm. He groaned again as his chin and cheeks were soaked with sweet slickness. He strained to hear you scream his name, your thighs rendering him deaf as they clutched around his ears. While he couldn’t hear the individual words, he certainly heard enough to flatter his ego.

Wave after wave of ecstasy was crashing through you, and you babbled meaninglessly: unconnected, incomprehensible syllables. Behind closed eyes, you were seeing stars, completely unaware of everything but the explosion going on in your lower body.

He withdrew, finally, when your thighs relaxed and your climax abated to spasms down your limbs. As you were still catching your breath, he rose to his knees, wiped his sodden mouth, and took himself in hand again, looking at you splayed, completely on display and too drunk on his sex to care.

It took him fewer than ten pumps to bring himself to orgasm.

“Fucking gorgeous - cunt tastes so good. Mm - fucking perfect, so fucking hot. Oh shit!”

Eyebrows raised, mouth wide in a perfect ‘o’, he exploded into his underwear.

You could see his first shots of come soaking through the material before he was even finished painting their insides with spurts of his thick seed: an impressive load given the fact it was his second in under an hour.

His throat ground out a low whine as he slowed his hand.

He took four or five seconds to catch his breath, and in that time your conscious mind took a firmer hold. Though you pulled the bedsheets up and over you, it was more for physical comfort rather than mental.

Five crawled beneath the sheets beside you, still breathing hard. When he collapsed on the pillow, he turned to you.

“Believe me now?” he asked, “you think I’d wank myself raw over someone I thought was ugly?”

You smiled and let out a small puff of air; a shy little laugh.

He propped himself up on one elbow while his other hand caressed your body beneath the sheets.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, firmly, “To me, you’re a renaissance painting, and I was there when Titian finished Venus and Cupid, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmured, eyes already heavy, “I’m sorry that I squeezed your head with my legs.”

“You kidding me?” he said, amused, “You could break my neck with your thighs and I’d die happy…what a way to go.”

“Well,” you said, a little discomfort returning, “I still feel bad.”

“Baby steps,” he said, voice as soft as his hand now stroking hair away from your eyes, “soon I’ll have you riding me fast and rough.”

You smiled and let his caresses close your tired eyes. After a few minutes, in which he looked lovingly down at your gentle doze, his voice sounded again.

“Can I at least beat the living shit out of that guy?”

You considered.

“...Maybe.”

Request masterlist >> HERE

NOTE: Dear sweet, anonymous girl, I see you. You did not deserve this, and this was never your problem. These formative experiences really do hurt us, and yours was such an extreme version that I'm not surprised it's given you these insecurities. I can promise you, it does get better. Feminism and loving yourself is at least half the battle, but nothing quite cements the truth like this: One day, you will be naked in front of a guy you trust completely. He'll look at you with that lustful, testosterone-fuelled glower and you'll know without a shadow of a doubt that, to him, you are venus. I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you

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elsfairy · 7 months

Note

emi my love, can i request a scream! ellie or abby for halloween? i’m planning on writing one as well but i’d love to see how you’d pull it off. (amazingly ofc🤭)

oh my.... the way you’re trusting me with this..... 😳 me lowkey not knowing if you wanted smut, but we all know im a whore for it. for you, i did my best so i hope this is what you wanted, baby 💗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 — a. anderson

Tonight was a cold evening, colder than usual, especially with it being Halloween. You had spent most of your afternoon going into the evening, slowly but perfectly getting together a little candlelight dinner for your girlfriend, Abby. It was your 2 year anniversary and you wanted tonight's dinner to be a lot more special than when it was your one year. Thankfully you hadn’t had kids and their parents knocking on your door, smiling and asking for candy so that gave you even more time to pick out the perfect outfit, find the best makeup looks and finish it off with the sweetest perfume.

There was only one slight problem in the plan you had ready for tonight . . . she was late. In fairness to her, she had to work a long shift tonight so you knew her schedule was going to be a little crazy but you only received the ‘i won’t be able to make it tonight’ text 30 minutes ago. You were defeated, you felt stupid and you were exhausted from spending so much time on your feet, trying to make something perfect for her, for you both, only for it to be ruined because she had to work late. It wasn’t unusual for her to be late, but it was weird because she promised she would be here. She even said she had an extra surprise for you, so why the sudden change?

At first, you were waiting for another text saying she was just kidding and that she would be home soon, but it never came. You had gotten tired of watching the minutes tick by on the clock in the kitchen from where you sat in the living room, and with a defeated sigh, you dropped the napkin you had resting on your lap, onto the table and pushed your chair out to make your way to the bedroom.

Your hand had just reached the door handle of your bedroom when the sound of your phone, the one you left on the dining room table, had started to ring which had you turning around, sprinting to it, hoping and praying that it was Abby and she had somehow managed to get someone to cover her shift to be home with you.

“Hello?” Your voice cheerful.

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice, one you didn’t recognise came from the other side of the phone.

The smile you had on your face dropped, frustration and sadness took over quickly. Rolling your eyes at the stupid question, you continued your way to your bedroom. “I’m not in the mood for your questions” came your snarky, bitter reply. “How’d you even get this number?”

“Oh, c’mon everyone has a favourite scary movie”

“I don’t. I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit”

“Is that why you look so miserable in such a pretty dress?”

The air was suddenly knocked from your lungs, your body turning around abruptly as your eyes were looking everywhere. Confused about how this stranger, who you’ve never met, knows exactly what you’re wearing and just how fuckin’ miserable you look. “I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, but know that my girlfriend is on the way home from work, and i won’t hesitate to call the police. Do you hear me?”

Not wanting to entertain this douche any longer than you already had, you hurriedly hung up the phone, almost throwing it with how frustrated you were with how ruined this night had become for you. All you wanted was a nice night with the woman you loved, eating something you both adore and instead, you had some idiot prank calling you at your worst. It was indeed a shitty night and you wanted nothing more than to take a warm bath and sleep the night away.

Your body had just reached the end of the bed when the sound of the floorboards beneath you had creaked. The only fucked up floorboard in the apartment that you had been telling Abby for months to try and sort out. It wasn’t your foot that caused it, you always avoided that one out of habit when your girl has been working all day, and tried to avoid waking her up in the early hours of the morning. The hair on the back of your neck stood quickly, and your body on it’s own accord turned just slightly to spot the figure— a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing in your doorway. Face covered with a mask you thought was familiar but couldn’t really name right now, and their head tilted, just watching you.

For some reason you didn’t feel panic, your heart was racing sure, but the longer you both just watched each other, you didn’t feel any need to instantly throw something at your intruder. However, the panic raised in you slightly when the figure took one step forward as you took one back. A subtle yet soft gasp had slipped past your lips when your back gently knocked into the wall, your hand trying to grip something to stop yourself from falling flat on your face. “Careful, wouldn’t want you falling over on me now”

The voice sounded like one you had recognised but it was so muffled by the current mask, it was making it hard for you to understand and put your finger on it. Your heart picked up the pace and started beating a little faster, where the fuck was Abby? Why were you not screaming? Trying to push them away? Something about them seemed so . . . comforting but maybe you were just slightly delusional from the half glass of wine you had.

You hadn’t realized you had zoned out slightly until the feeling of fingers grazing your jaw, pulled you out of your trance, your lips part at realizing just how close they are to you. The feeling of them being so familiar with you still resides in your chest, and it isn’t until you hear that fuckin’ breathless chuckle that your knees buckle.

“Abby?”

“You really think i would stand you up on our anniversary, baby?”

You simply couldn’t focus on what she was saying because you were too focused on the hand she had groping your tits, somehow already pulling your dress down to get a view of them, her fingers pinching at your already hardened nipples, while her other hand is sliding up your dress, already slipping into your panties. With a groan she leans more into you, pushing you more into the wall, the feeling of your slick covering her fingers. “Jesus Christ, you get so fuckin’ wet. This turn you on that much?”

With the way her fingers were rubbing circles on your clit, spreading your slick over your folds, and how good her hand was on your tit, you couldn’t form one correct sentence, and the only thing that you were letting out was whimpers and whines into her shoulder, nails bluntly digging into her arm. “wanna see you, please? please let me see you Abs” You beg softly, your back arching off the wall when those thick fingers tease your hole.

“Yeah? c’mon then pretty girl, take it off for me”

The second those words came from her mouth, your hands moved quickly, gripping the bottom of the mask, and pulling it off swiftly. Her blonde locks cascade down her shoulders, flyways framing her face, and your heart melted at the sight of her blue eyes looking at you with such a soft look, and a grin making it’s way onto her face. “Knew you were freaky, but not this freaky”

Before you had time to defend yourself or bite back at her words, she slipped her fingers inside your cunt, your walls instantly trapping them and the action caused her to grunt into your neck, while you were gasping out her name softly at the intrusion. The sounds leaving you were driving her crazy, and sending her brain into a frenzy. You always made the prettiest sounds, and she would keep doing everything possible to hear them.

Resting her forehead against yours, the squelching sound your cunt was making rang through her ears loudly and she could feel her own cunt clenching around nothing at how good you felt, how good you sounded, and how pretty you begged “Say my name, baby” She whispered breathlessly against you.

“Abby . . ”

Rubbing your clit with her thumb, you almost felt winded at the extra attention, and Abby was quick to remove her hand from your tits, to wrap her arm around your waist to keep you up, and steady. You had to use all your remaining strength because her touch always did make you fuzzy and light-heade, to cling onto her, while her eyes darted between your pretty lips that parted with such soft moans, and down where she watched her fingers disappear inside your cunt.

Your hand had caught her wrist quickly when her thrusts sped up just slightly, grinding yourself into her touch, your legs fell even weaker when she chuckled in your ear, her fingers still pumping in and out of you at a fast but gentle pace.

“Good, because it’s the only thing you’ll be screaming tonight”

#ᥫ᭡ my dani angel #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson fic

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gardenschedule · 2 months

Text

Paul hurting John

And any mention of Paul brought a wintry bleakness to her face. 'John always used to say,' [Yoko] told me at one point, 'that no one ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him.' The words suggested a far deeper emotional attachment between the two than the world had ever suspected---they were like those of a spurned lover---and I naturally included them in my account of my visit for the Sunday Times. After it appeared, I returned to my London flat one evening to be told by my then girlfriend, ‘Paul, phoned you.’ She said he wanted to know what Yoko had meant and that he’d seemed upset rather than angry.

Paul McCartney: The Life - Philip Norman.

Paul McCartney, John’s partner into songwriting history, provokes a bleak and bitter look. “John said that no one ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him. But it’s in the past. It’s gone.” “John used to say he’d had two great partnerships. One was with Paul McCartney, the other was with Yoko Ono. ‘And I discovered both of them,’ he used to say. ‘Not bad going, is it?’”

Yoko Ono, interview w/ Philip Norman for Sunday Times: Life after John. (May 25th, 1981)

KLEIN: I can only tell you what John said when I asked him who he would call among the Beatles if he was in trouble—you know, if he had a real problem. He said he’d call George. That surprised me. Then I asked him if he’d ever been really close with Paul and he said no. Not that he didn’t love him; he did. He just said every time he let his guard down, McCartney hurt him. VETTER: Did he say how? KLEIN: Not specifically. But you know, it’s the kind of hurt where you open up to someone, really reach out, and then they’re just not there. A couple of times I thought Paul and I really had something going and then the next day, it was like it all just slipped away.

Allen Klein, Playboy: A candid conversation with the embattled manager of the Beatles. (November, 1971)

“I don’t have any friends!” John reminded me. “Friendship is a romantic illusion!” He said that he had learned this the hard way after the breakup of his relationship with Paul McCartney, whom he had once regarded as his close friend.

Fred Seaman, The Last Days of John Lennon. (1991)

HARTMAN: Paul, there’s a new interview out that John – you mentioned John a while ago – and he talks very openly. Without going into details, he seems to have a lot of resentment, competition, with you. And he says you kind of died creatively in a way, and he didn’t keep track of you, he said ‘The Long And Winding Road’ was your last gasp… How – he seems resentful of you. Do you know why, or—? PAUL: [uncomfortable] Um… I don’t know, I can guess and stuff, you know, but I’ll tell you, after all of that stuff has sort of gone down over the years, I actually keep a bit quiet now, ’cause anything I say, he gets resentful of. So I don’t know really, I mean, uh… it’s just a weird one. I don’t quite know why he thinks like that. I mean, what do you do about that? I – I really just shut up these days. I think it’s the best policy, David.

Paul’s Good Morning America interview

“No one ever goes on about the times John hurt ME,” said Paul. “When he called my music Muzak. People keep on saying I hurt him, but where’s the examples, when did I do it? No one ever says. It’s just always the same, blaming me. Could I have hurt John MORE than anyone in the world? More than the person who ran down Julia in his car? “We were always in competition. I wrote “Penny Lane,” so he wrote “Strawberry Fields.” That was how it was. But that was in compositions. I can’t understand why Yoko is saying this. The last time I spoke to her she was great. She told me she and John had just been playing one of my albums and had cried.”

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

I always felt guilty. Always felt guilty. But looking back on it, I keep thinking, okay, let’s try and analyse this. Now John was hurt; what was he hurt by? What was the single biggest thing that we can find in all our research that hurt John? And the biggest thing that I can find is that I told the world that the Beatles were finished. And I don’t think that’s so hurtful. […] I look at it now and really kind of shudder. At the time it was me trying to answer some questions that were being asked and I decided to not fudge that question. And I say, looking back on it, I don’t think… I mean, if that’s the most hurtful thing I did, I haven’t really heard much else beyond that.

...

And I say, looking back on it, I don’t think... I mean, if that’s the most hurtful thing I did, I haven’t really heard much else beyond that. We didn’t accept Yoko totally, but like I say, how many groups do you know, these days [who would]? I mean, it’s a joke. It’s like Spinal Tap! I mean, it’s Spinal Tap! A joke!

Paul McCartney, interviewed by Chris Salewicz for Musician (October 1986).

John had made it clear that he wanted to be the one to announce the split,' Linda McCartney explained years later, 'since it was his idea.' 'He wanted to be first,' her husband confirmed. 'But I didn't realise it would hurt him that much or that it mattered who was first.' Lennon commented later, 'We were all hurt that he didn't tell us what he was going to do. I think he claims that he didn't mean that to happen, but that's bullshit.' Envy also entered the equation. 'I was cursing because I hadn't done it. I wanted to do it and I should have done it...I was a fool not to do what Paul did, which is use it to sell a record.'

You Never Give Me Your Money – Peter Doggett

At first we agreed not to announce it. But after three or four months, I got more and more guilty about people saying, “How’s the group going?” when we sort of knew it was probably split up. So I did a kind of dumb move in the end, and when I look back on it, it was really… It looks very hard and cold. But I was releasing the McCartney album, and I didn’t really want to do much press for it; so I told a guy from the office to do me a list of questions and I’ll write the answers and we’ll print it up as a pamphlet and just stick it in with the press copies of the album. The questions were quite pointed, and it ended up being like me announcing that the Beatles had broken up. John got quite mad about that, apparently – this is one of the things he said really hurt him and cut him to the quick. Personally I don’t think it was such a bad thing to announce to the world after four months that we’d broken up. It had to come out some time. I think maybe the manner of doing it, I regret now – I wish it had been a little kinder, or with the others’ approval. But I felt it was time.

Paul McCartney, Rolling Stone: The Rolling Stone interview – Paul McCartney. (September 11th, 1986)

JOHN: And then as I said in [Rolling] Stone, both Klein and Paul at that time said, “Well, you don’t have to tell everybody, do you? You don’t have to announce it.” And I said, “Okay. Well, I won’t announce it then.” And then a year later, Paul announced it, right? [laughs; bleak] Good ol’… That was a great trick, you know. Because maybe that’s how when he – [very quiet] He felt that’s how he had to do it. So.

January 1st, 1976 (Dakota, New York)

JOHN: Well, I mean, like – like with anybody, when you say “divorce”, you know, the face goes… all sorts of colours. It’s like he knew, really, that this was the final thing. And then six months later, he comes out with – whatever, you know. I told [British journalist] Ray Connolly, and there was a lot of people knew I’d left, but I was a fool not to do it, you know. Not to do what Paul did, which was use it to sell a record. WENNER: You were really angry with Paul. JOHN: No, I wasn’t angry. WENNER: But when he came out with his— JOHN: No, I wasn’t angry, I was just – “Shit!” You know? I mean, he’s a good PR man, Paul. He – he’s about the best in the world, probably. He really does a job. I wasn’t angry in that way.

December 8th, 1970 (New York): Rolling Stone

"Yet even [John's resentment over Paul announcing the breakup first] does not explain his later remark to Yoko that no one had ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him. It almost suggests that, deep beneath the schoolboy friendship and the complementary musical brilliance, lay some streak of homosexual adoration that John himself never realised. He might have longed to get away from Paul, but he could never quite get over him."

Philip Norman, Shout!, 1981

John would say things like, ‘It was rubbish. The Beatles were crap.’ Also, ‘I don’t believe in The Beatles, I don’t believe in Jesus, I don’t believe in God.’ Those were quite hurtful barbs to be flinging around, and I was the person they were being flung at, and it hurt. So, I’m having to read all this stuff, and on the one hand I’m thinking, ‘Oh fuck off, you fucking idiot,’ but on the other hand I’m thinking, ‘Why would you say that? Are you annoyed at me or are you jealous or what?’ And thinking back fifty years later, I still wonder how he must have felt. He’d gone through a lot. His dad disappeared, and then he lost his Uncle George, who was a father figure; his mother; Stuart Sutcliffe; Brian Epstein, another father figure; and now his band. But John had all of those emotions wrapped up in a ball of Lennon. That’s who he was. That was the fascination.

I tried. I was sort of answering him here, asking, ‘Does it need to be this hurtful?’ I think this is a good line: ‘Are you afraid, or is it true?’ – meaning, ‘Why is this argument going on? Is it because you’re afraid of something? Are you afraid of the split-up? Are you afraid of my doing something without you? Are you afraid of the consequences of your actions?’ And the little rhyme, ‘Or is it true?’ Are all these hurtful allegations true? This song came out in that kind of mood. It could have been called ‘What the Fuck, Man?’ but I’m not sure we could have gotten away with that then.

Paul McCartney, on “Dear Friend”. In The Lyrics (2021).

PAUL: He was hurt. He later explained it by saying that I’d hurt him over some things, and it was kind of bitchy. Um… you know. He just had to do that. It’s fine. And at the time I thought, well, I should really answer all of this, but I took – I thought, no, it’s really going to get crazy if I start answering him and then we’re gonna be talking through newspapers at each other and really bitching, you know. And I decided to not do that.

October 19th, 1984: Paul McCartney talks to Barbara Frum of CBC-TV’s The Journal

"The truth is, deep down they were very, very similar indeed. Each had a soft underbelly, each was very much hurt by certain things. John had a very soft inside to him. But, you see, each had a bitter turn of phrase and could be quite nasty to the other. It was like a tug of war. Imagine two people pulling on a rope, smiling at each other and pulling all the time with all their might. The tension between the two of them made for the bond."

George Martin – Bill Harry, The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia, 2003)

JOHN: [Paul] even recorded that all by himself in the other room, that’s how it was getting in those days. We came in and he’d – he’d made the whole record. Him drumming, him playing the piano, him singing. Just because – it was getting to be where he wanted to do it like that, but he couldn’t – couldn’t – maybe he couldn’t make the break from The Beatles, I don’t know what it was. But you know, I enjoyed the track. But we’re all, I’m sure – I can’t speak for George, but I was always hurt when he’d knock something off without… involving us, you know? But that’s just the way it was then.

August, 1980: interview with Playboy writer David Sheff

‘There’s only one incident I can think of which John has publicly mentioned. It was when I went off with Ringo and did “Why Don’t We Do It In the Road?” It wasn’t a deliberate thing. John and George were tied up finishing something and me and Ringo were free, just hanging around, so I said to Ringo let’s go and do this. “I did hear him some time later singing it. He liked the song and I suppose he’d wanted to do it with me. It was a very John sort of song anyway. That’s why he liked it, I suppose. It was very John, the idea of it, not me. I wrote it as a ricochet off John. “Perhaps I hurt people by default. I never realized at the time John would mind.

...

“I’ve never come back at him, not at all, but I can’t help hide my anger about all the things he said at the time, about the Muzak, about me singing like Englebert Humperdink….. “If I had to start listing all the times when HE hurt me. Doing that one little song on my own, compared with what he said about ME…. “When you think about it, I’ve done nothing really to him, compared with that. Anyway, he did the same with “Revolution 9″. He went off and made that without me. No one ever says all that. John is now the nice guy and I’m the bastard. It gets repeated all the time.”

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

ROBBINS: When are you going to be doing another tour? Do you know? JOHN: No idea. I know we’ve got music to write, as soon as we get back. And Paul’s just signed us up to write the music for a film [The Family Way]. So I suppose it’s off the plane and into bed and – knock knock knock, “Get up and write some songs.” ROBBINS: A film that’s not your own? JOHN: Yes. ROBBINS: Very exciting.

John Lennon, interview w/ Fred Robbins. (October 29th, 1966)

“The healthy partnership and camaraderie that evolved from Paul and John’s competitive streak was only one step away from sibling rivalry. It now transpires that one of John’s earliest ‘hurts’ inflicted by Paul was McCartney’s solo writing of the music for the Hayley Mills film The Family Way in 1966. ‘I was told recently by Yoko that one of the things that hurt John over the years was me going off and doing The Family Way,’ Paul says. The filmmaking Boulting brothers had approached him via George Martin. ‘I thought this was a great opportunity. We were all free to do stuff outside the Beatles and we’d each done various little things.’When he mentioned it to John, Paul said, ‘He would have had his suit of armour on and said: “No, I don’t mind.” However, my reasoning would be that at exactly the same time he went off to make a film. He wrote his books. It was in the spirit of all that. But what I didn’t realize was that this was the first time one of us had done it on songs. John would write a book and I was supposed not to be jealous, which I wasn’t. He acted in a film [How I Won the War]. But I didn’t realize he made a distinction between all those solo things and actually writing music because this was the first time one of us had done it in film scoring. I suppose what I should have said was: “I’d like to write it with John,” and then that would have been OK. It actually didn’t occur to me at that time at all. So I went off, saw and liked the film, said: “Right, come on George [Martin],” and I must say it was all over very quickly.’

Paul McCartney, c/o Ray Coleman, McCartney: Yesterday and Today. (1995)

JOHN: ‘Rigby’’s, um, his first verse, and the rest of the verses are basically mine. But the way he did it was – uh, was he had the song, and he knew he’d got the song. So rather than ask me, “John, do these lyrics—” Because by that period, he didn’t want to say that – to me. Okay? So what he would say was, “Hey, you guys, finish off the lyrics,” while he was sort of fiddling around with the track or something, or – or arranging it, in the other part of the giant studio in EMI. ... But that’s how it – [Paul] just sort of— ‘Cause that’s the kind of insensitivity he would have – which made me upset in the later years – because to him, that meant nothing. But that’s the kind of person he is. So he threw ‘em out and said, “Here, finish these up,” like – to anybody, who was around. [By saying that] actually he meant I was to do it, but – you know, Neil and Mal were sitting there, and…

August, 1980: interview with Playboy writer David Sheff

"As mild and oblique as the comment was [Paul's "You took your lucky break and broke it in two" line from "Too Many People"], it seemed to cut John to the heart. On top of the questionnaire inside the McCartney album and the lawsuit, it was like the tipping point between a divorcing couple that turns love into savage, no-holds-barred hostility. Indeed, John's wounded anger was more that of an ex-spouse than ex-colleague, reinforcing a suspicion already in Yoko's mind that his feelings for Paul had been far more intense than the world at large ever guessed. From chance remarks he had made, she gathered there had even been a moment where - on the principle that bohemians should try everything - he had contemplated an affair with Paul, but had been deterred by Paul's immovable heterosexuality.

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life, 2008

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #the most interesting aspect of this whole thing is paul's sincere bewilderment over how he hurt john #all evidence points to: literally anything that resulted in them being distant musically and personally #and people still think john was desperate for that divorce...?

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