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#I wish my brain would just shut the fuck up for once
princesslink · 2 months
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don't mind me, a lil life update
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pop-punklouis · 2 years
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cybervom1t · 1 month
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any1 else stuck in an endless loop of remembering everything bad that’s ever happened to them? or is that just me?
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jasminesfury · 7 months
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messy chaotic ‘we’re terrible for each other but can’t keep our hands off each other’ prompts
oh hello i am in fact alive
“do you ever actually think before speaking? like is your brain capable of processing a thought??” “yeah, it’s just immune to idiotic ones”
“take that back” “prove me wrong” (or; a cliché ‘make me’)
being in some sort of intense slightly pointless staring match (after an argument, preferably) and just saying “oh fuck it who cares” and pulling their neck down to kiss them
“do you the sex would be boring if we didn’t argue before it every time?” “i mean, we could always argue during”
^or, alt: doing it once when you’re not arguing instead kinda tipsy but not drunk, and it’s all giggles and laughter and sweet nothings and the next morning being like “oh fuck i actually like them”
“why does everything with you have to be so difficult!?” “it’s fun getting you all riled up”
“oh, if i had known that’s all it would take for you to shut up i would’ve done this ages ag-“ “only finish that sentence if you have a death wish”
“you’re doing it wrong” “jesus, would you just relax” “no because i’m wasting my tim- oh, oh my god-” the other character smirking, “don’t look so smug” “i think i’ve earned the right, now just trust me, okay? believe it or not, i want to make you feel good”
“so you’ll finally stop being an asshole and just sign the document?” “keep doing this and i’ll sell you my house”
getting jealous and the other character pretending that it’s unreasonable, but secretly character A is the only one they feel a spark with. the only one they feel excited to be around
“we should probably stop this” “yeah” … “we’re not going to though, right?” “oh absolutely not”
“nope no nada, no using sex to get me to do things you want, it’s not going to work anymore”
“you really are a fucking asshole aren’t you?” “yes, i believe that’s what’s on my resume”
“i hate you” “i know” “and that won’t change” “i know” “and you’re still okay with this?” no “yes”
“imagine a universe where we didn’t hate each other, that would be so-“ “boring?” “yeah! like imagine not bickering over tiny things, that’s no fun”
“she says we bicker like an old married couple”
talking with a friend; “you shouldn’t go there” “i know” “and you shouldn’t sleep with them” “i know” “it’s a bad idea” “i know” “well. will you?” “..yeah”
“i know we’re terrible for each other but every time i look at them it’s just like my brain flies out the window and my hormones take over”
“we’re broken up, it’s just two friends going out for drinks, okay?” ending up in one’s bed, but alright
“did you sleep together?” “noooo, i just-“ “tripped on a stone and accidentally dailed his number which magically led to you two meeting at a pub and you just magically teleported to your bedroom without your clothes on? yeah, thought so”
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Woof woof… whimper
(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)
Same warnings as last time for dub con and general Johnny nastiness.
It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.
“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.
But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.
“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.
“G-get off of me, get out, get—”
His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.
“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”
You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones….
How did he know where you live?
How did he know where the spare key was?
How did he know where your bedroom was?
How did he find you at the bar?
Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.
Then where’s your dog?
“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”
He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.
“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”
You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.
All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.
“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”
You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.
“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.
“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”
Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…
“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”
Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.
He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.
And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.
Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.
“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.
Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.
“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”
Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.
It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.
You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.
You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.
“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.
“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”
You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.
“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”
“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”
You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.
“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”
Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.
“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”
“Alright, hen. C’mere.”
He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.
“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.
He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”
And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.
How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.
“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”
How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.
“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”
That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.
You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…
And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.
Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).
He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.
“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.
“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”
It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.
“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”
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mochi-owos · 1 year
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Genshin men with a hot ass reader?!
Scaramouche, Kazuha, Childe, Al-Haitham, Cyno x Reader
I’m so sorry for the wait, and this isn’t as long, but regardless I hope you enjoy<33 @alizaneth (I can’t find your other @ 😨)
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Scaramouche
He never thought he would be defiled by the shackles of beauty and romanticism but fuck, you were really hot, so fucking hot. He really wanted to look away but he just-- he just couldn't! Everything about you was so alluring, everything you did made him want to watch more. And just calling you hot would be an utterly impudent way to describe someone like you.
"Need something?" You smiled, he almost melted on the spot. Your smile was so pretty.
"Huh? No. I didn't need anything." Youd be a liar if you said you didnt notice his little blush.
You tilt your head, a hand moving to your hip, "Is that so? You were staring." You tried to bite back a laugh from the way he shriveled.
"You're pretty.." he mumbled.
"What was that?" You couldn't help but tease, he's too cute!
He walked closer to you, snaking an arm your waist, taking another hand and holding yours, then snuggling his head into your neck, "I said, you're really pretty, I like everything about you. I like your eyes and the way they sparkle, I like your cute hands, and I like your smile, I want to have them forever."
"Someone sentimental.”
“Shut up.”
Kazuha
To my dearest,
I'm sorry for my prolonged absence, I truly do wish to bask in your presence once more. But this journey is long, and taking lots longer than anticipated, I too-- had hoped to be in your arms by now. I miss your sweet scent, your loving embrace, your warm touch, the glisten in your star struck eyes. I wish for every second I have to be with you, if you long for more stars in the sky and I will shoot them for you, I would stare into your eyes everyday in hopes I go blind so you may be the last thing I see, I wish to breath nothing but you-- for you are my air. I hope to be home soon, please wait a little longer my love.
Forever missing you, your beloved husband
Childe
See, this was his first time, seeing someone so pretty-- I mean, he's most definitely very attractive people in his life, but by the gods, you were quite literally too hot to handle. After every encounter he was close to fainting, once, he got a nosebleed after you had snuck up on him! Your harmonic voice ringing in his ears.. oh gods, he was simping. But a poor soul he was, he had zero rizz.
"Hello there pretty thing." He smirked, attempting to lean against a wall, little did he know he was just a tad too far away which resulted in him almost falling, stumbling he manages to lean against the wall wiggling his eyebrows.
You laughed, shit, your laugh was really cute, "Hello, Childe. What brings around here?"
"I just wanted too see the PretTiest person eVer." His voice cracking in-between, fuck, has he always been this nervous around you?
You only laughed, walking forward, "Come, let's go for a stroll."
Thank god you had a thing for losers.
Al-Haitham
Al-Haitham is not one easily swayed by second class, biased, standards of beauty, except you, fucking hell, you defied all known logic of beauty and standards, you were the essence of ethereality, built by the most generous of god's, handpicked to be their hidden most precious gem.
The way the golden sun hit your skin the exact same one you always seemed to be glowing in, the way your voice was basically etched into his brain, the way it felt as though he constantly wanted to be in your embrace, always wanting you-- wanting to be nothing but yours.
So when the faithful day he finally had a chance to converse with you he knew he couldn't fail.
"Hello, you are.. er.. looking nice today." He was awkward about it, and so was his "smile"-- to be honest, you couldn't even consider it that, it's was more like his face was contoreted by a child, you weren't sure whether to run away and cry or ask him if his face is ok, never once had you seen the man smile.
"Oh! Uh.. Thank you, Grand Sage (?)." You looked down, picking at your hands.
Damnit, why did you react like that? He complimented you, just like the book told him to do (The book: how to rizz them up), was that you being embarrassed? No way, it didn't look like it, was his smile weird? You looked back at him up it took a few moments for you to actually say something.
Swallowing your saliva you spoke, "Uhm.. Mr Grand Sage, why are you staring at me like that..? It's a bit scary, Sir.." It was so hard to say that, that was your boss for goodness sake, he could fire you for anything if you did anything wrong, though, he doesn't seem like the type.
"Oh."
.
.
.
You think you’re about to faint, "Oh"?!
"I see, my apologies. I was trying to smile. I truly don't doubt my sincerity, you truly do look so uhm.. attractive (?)." He clears his throat, "I'm sorry, I'm not that best with this romantic predicaments. I would like you to dinner, would you like that?"
Cyno
Cyno has always found it easy to tell people "no", it was never a hard word for him. On a constant basis would be be using the word. But why, why is it though he simply cannot bring himself to say it to you?
Perhaps it was the thought he couldn't stand the thought of you being upset with him, your tears, or even perhaps your indifference.
This time, you need help with some commissions, but it was finally his off, he wanted to play TGC, could you blame him for his reluctance?
Your eyes soften, "Please Cyno? I can't do it without you."
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, fuck it all, shit. He froze, I think his pulse stopped, tighnari running up to him and playfully checking his pulse, "Uh-oh, we're loosing him!" He teased hitting cyno's shoulder.
How could he resist you? Fuck it all, "I- uh.." he signed, "fine."
"Ohh! Thank you, Cyno! You're the best! I'll pay you back promise!"
He only wanted you.
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zriasstuff · 3 months
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Underwater fun-Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader smut
Warnings: 18+ mature fanfic, includes sexual activities (him pleasuring you in public)
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“What do you think you’re doing”, you whisper to Mattheo while both of you are standing in the black lake, seemingly just chatting in the water. The cold water went all the way up to your collarbones, so much that you could still stand, but not very securely. It made you feel a little wobbly on your feet.
You had asked Mattheo that question because you felt his knee creeping up higher, almost touching your lower private area now. His leg fit perfectly between both of yours.
“Matty, whatever it is that you got planned-”
“Just enjoy the water, won’t you”, he responds teasingly, interrupting you mid sentence.
His smirk indicated to you that you were about to enjoy a lot more than just the apparent water. You gradually realized that he had envisioned something very risky in his mind.
Mattheo’s knee between your legs was now placed so perfectly, that whenever you even moved in the slightest, your cunt would automatically rub against it. He even held you tightly by your waist, so that you couldn’t get away from him.
It was surely his intention, for you to get loose, to get you all riled up. Aware of the rather public situation, you spin around to make sure no one was watching.
“Don’t be shy darling, no one is watching”, he baits you once again, not even hiding his desire for you to get off on him. When you wouldn’t indulge, he props his knee even further up, making it directly touch your cunt.
Without it being your intention, one shift of your position suddenly made you feel a wave of brain melting pleasure. The strong pressure on your clit started to feel a little too good. It felt nasty to practically grind against his hard knee, like some touch starved, pathetic slut.
But the more you rubbed against him, the needier you got, feeling yourself get wetter in the process.
“Enjoy yourself princess?”, he cockily asks. He knows exactly that within seconds you’d be begging for him to make you cum.
Mattheo had always had this persuasive aura around him. Whatever he set his mind to, he would achieve. Of course he knew your limits, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t push them a little for fun.
“Please Mattheo, want more”, you moan quietly, while desperately aching for more friction to please your throbbing cunt. You never imagined it’d feel so good to grind on his knee, so good that it turned your cunt into such a wet mess.
He somehow always managed to get you craving his touch, whether it was his cock, fingers, or even knee now.
“Well, since you asked so nicely”, he granted you your wish, and within seconds his knee was replaced by his hand. Wasting no time, he smoothly slid two fingers inside you. Your soaking wetness had allowed him easy and quick penetration, and he felt your cunt sucking him in with its tightness.
“Look how wet my princess is”, he coos, “I told you you’d have fun”. That cocky look on his face was provoking all the more impure thoughts. You imagined what it would be like if there were no people around. How he could then fuck you in the water, have you get high on his cock. You wish everyone would just magically disappear.
The way his fingers stretched your aching cunt wide open almost made you reach your climax right then right there. They kept exploring your walls from every possible angle, brushing against every spot. His thumb additionally circled your clit to create even more simulation, so much you couldn’t hold in the sinful moans that escaped your mouth anymore.
You’d gotten used to how good Mattheo was with his fingers ever since you started dating, but this time, the possibility of being caught made it all so much more exciting. That meant you’d really have to try to not draw everyone’s attention on your public sexual cadaver.
“Can’t even keep your mouth shut anymore huh”, Mattheo points out. You bit down hard on your lip and tried to keep a neutral face to not raise any suspicions.
Knowing that he had such a delicious effect on you, he tried all the more to get you cracking and get caught. It didn’t matter because everyone could then see that you were his, and that only he could get you all riled up like this in the water.
His finger thrusts were becoming quicker and viciously hit your sensitive spot, causing you to struggle to keep still in the water. Your legs were squirming around and firmly clinging onto his leg, and your nails kept digging into his torso. All so you wouldn’t lose balance.
“Plea- Please, go slower”, you whine, not sure how much more of this you’d be able to take without exposing yourself.
“What was that, you want it faster?” Mattheo got extremely turned on watching you barely being able to keep it together. He was this close to pushing you over the edge right now. His fingers continued going in and out of you at an ungodly speed, solely focused on your pleasure. Meanwhile his cock was begging for some friction too, the bulge becoming clearly visible through his swimming shorts.
At that point, the rough fingering was becoming too much, and you felt your rushed climax approaching. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum”, you whimper.
But all of a sudden he pulls his fingers out. The sensation was gone. While he was licking his fingers clean with a smirk plastered on his face, you were desperately clenching around nothing anymore. “Mattheo, please make me finish”, you impatiently beg him. He couldn’t just leave you hanging like this, after all he’d started it.
There was nothing more that you wanted right now, than to have him stroke your sweet spot repeatedly, to have his fingers torturing you into orgasm after orgasm. It didn’t matter anymore that you were in public, all you wanted was him.
“Sorry darling, party’s over”, and with that you saw everyone leaving the lake to get dressed and go back to your dorms. Awfully convenient you thought.
Seeing from Mattheo’s devious expression, you realized his goal was to leave you feeling unsatisfied all along, so you would be even hornier later on.
And just like he predicted, his mischievous plan succeeded. At least you were sure that he was going to make it up to you back in his dorm.
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mediumgayitalian · 18 days
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prev
———
Hades’ favourite thing to rant about is how much his family forgets about and sidelines him. Nico has literally never once given the lecture his full attention, because why the fresh fuck would he subject himself to that, but he discovers, lying facedown on the floor of Cabin Three, that he must have internalised enough of it to remember some key points.
He is loathe to admit it, but Father is right. How come the Poseidon cabin floors are so nice and comfortable? The floor of Cabin Thirteen sucks. Whenever he has Floor Time in his own cabin, he gets bruised and cold. Injustice.
“Could you suffer quieter? I’m trying to study.”
“Shut up, Percy.”
“I’m not the one groaning in misery.”
“Shut up, Percy.”
Percy sighs heavily. There’s a loud thud as he snaps his textbook shut, and the creak of mattress springs as he shifts.
“You’re so fuckin’ irritating, you know that?”
“Coming from you,” Nico says indignantly, pushing up to glare at him. Percy makes a face back. “I am here, having a crisis, being vulnerable in front of you —”
“Oh my gods.”
“— like you suggested, to rebuild our tenuous relationship —”
“I wish the prophecy had killed me. Either one, I’m not picky.”
“— and you are studying! Nose in a book! You hate reading! You are doing this just to spite me!”
“I am doing this to pass my classes,” Percy snips. “Someone should send you to public school. You need to experience that particular level of hell.”
“Experienced hell already, thanks. Don’t need a redo.”
“Tartarus references don’t shut me up, Zombie Boy. I’ve been there too.”
“Ugh.”
Percy rolls his eyes, turning back to his textbook. Nico contemplates rolling back on the floor to Ruminate and Think (after the second failure in a row he has a much to think about, like what the fuck is he supposed to do, should he even fucking bother, is he doomed to life without love, etc, etc) but finds himself, instead, sitting upright. Watching his — friend. Watching his heavy frown, listening to the bit-back curses and the crinkle of pages when he holds the book too tightly.
He’s moody, today. Sullen. Ate his breakfast in silence and stomped off to the sword fighting arena, raising hurricane downpour around the open theatre to deter anyone from joining him. Coincidentally, Annabeth has not been seen all day.
“Are you okay?” Nico asks quietly.
Percy shrugs, glancing over then glancing quickly away. “Fine.”
“I mean. You flooded half the camp. So.”
“Just drop it, Nico. If you’re going to stay in here, be quiet.”
Nico bites back the automatic, scathing retort. Be quiet, Nicolò! Lalalalala! Don’t tell me what to do! Ugh! I hate having a little brother! Yeah, well, I hate you too!
A quick, cut-off choking sound cuts through his thoughts. He looks up, startled, to find Percy’s face red, to find him swiping angrily at his cheeks.
“Woah,” he murmurs, climbing hastily upright. He ignores the loud chanting in his brain telling him to leave, the discomfort swirling in his stomach at seeing someone cry, seeing another man cry, instead hovering awkwardly. Percy shrugs off the hand he touches hesitantly to his shoulder, and Nico holds it there, suspended, in between and outstretched.
“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”
Nico hesitates. Of all people, he…nobody wants Nico around, when they’re —whatever Percy is. Upset. The only thing he can probably do is make it worse.
But what can he do? Leave him? Get Annabeth? Jason? None of it seems right. Instead he stands, frozen, hand still half-outstretched, eyes wide.
“You can —” He clears his throat. “Um. Did something happen?”
Percy shrugs. His eyes remain glued resolutely to his textbook, although the pages are wet and warped.
“Cause you can tell me, you know. I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything.”
Gods, he is so far out of his depth. Could Kampe come back and attack? That would be easier to deal with. Nico could handle that.
“I don’t —” the pages of the textbook crinkle under Percy’s grip — “it’s fucking stupid, is what it is.”
Hovering is not the right call. He knows that much. He scans the cabin, evaluating his options — sitting back on the floor feels like a bad plan. He doesn’t think any kind of touch would be welcomed, nor is he entirely comfortable in giving it. He doesn’t want to crowd. He doesn’t want to seem too distant.
Slowly, carefully gauging Percy’s reaction, he sits on the bed, across from him. He leaves the textbook between them, letting Percy keep pretending to read it, and tucks his legs up under his knees. He fiddles absentmindedly with his ring, chewing his lip every time Percy sniffles.
“Why’s it stupid?”
Percy shrugs again. Nico resists the urge to shake him. How does anyone deal with this shit? What the hell is he even supposed to do? He’s not Jason. He’s not Annabeth. Hell, he’s not Will, who seems to read emotions intuitively, who seems to know exactly what to do when someone is scared, when someone is upset. Even when someone is angry. He tries to imagine Will, in his position. Sitting across from a crying Percy Jackson, saviour of the world. Yesterday, one of the younger kids had tripped and scraped half the skin off their arm on the basketball court. Will had been there with a soft smile and gentle, glowing hands, speaking quietly and cracking small jokes until the kid was laughing again. Nico tries to imagine that here, soft words and lighthearted jokes. It doesn’t seem right. Would he — touch Percy’s wrist, like he did with Clarisse? Drag the fight right out of him?
Is Percy even angry? Nico has seen him angry before. Murderous. Fuming.
He’s never seen him cry.
Percy’s voice is like palms scraping hard over sharp gravel stones. “I made Annabeth cry this morning.”
The way he says it makes it hard for Nico to actually understand his words. His tone of voice is — volatile, is the best way he can describe it. Loathing. Based on the curling self-hatred dripping from the sentence Nico would assume he’d tried to kill her — he says I made her cry like he doesn’t deserve to live for it. Like he’s hoping to be punished.
“That happens,” Nico says. He swallows. “When you — love people.”
He and Bianca made each other cry a lot. He just never — stopped, never gave her half a second. Sometimes she looked at him and he knew she wanted to hit him. She never did. But he knew and she knew he knew and sometimes it would well up in her eyes, and she would lock herself in the bathroom of their room and turn on the sink and cry and cry and cry. And it ached something nasty in the cavity of his chest.
Percy sneers at his hands, flexing his fingers. “People who love you don’t make you cry. That’s just — hurting. That’s people who hurt everyone around them.”
Nico frowns. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” he says venomously. “I’m supposed to be — I’m supposed to protect her. I’m supposed to keep her safe, keep her from people who cause her pain.”
“People like you?”
Percy nods.
Nico drags his teeth over his bottom lip. He thinks of bleeding fingers clinging to a tiny shaft of rock, thinks of dangerous green eyes, hard voices; thinks of a thick web clinging to a broken ankle and an abyss. Thinks of promises and oaths and choosing. Thinks of falling. Thinks of letting go.
“People who want to harm Annabeth do not jump into the Pit for her.”
The pages of Percy’s textbook have started to dry. The ink has bled, dark splotches in perfect circles. The fountain bubbles gently behind them, mattress creaking under shifting legs.
“You don’t understand what I —” He pauses, swallowing. “Did, down there.”
“D’you hurt her?”
“…I scared her.”
“Oh, well — Christ, Percy! Is that really what this — brooding is about?” He scoffs. “No shit you scared her!”
“…What?”
Percy looks at him, wide-eyed. Nico rolls his eyes.
“Aw, when you were fighting for your life in the place meant to tear your essence into atoms, did you do things that make you question your personhood? Your morals?”
“I —”
“Of course you did, dumbass! Of course you —” he takes a breath, trying to organize the jumble of thoughts in his brain — “of course the physical manifestation of darkness and distortion made you act differently than you would usually, Percy. Of course it — affected you. Gods. Of course you’re struggling.” He flicks Percy’s knee, looking at him with exaggerated exasperation. “Use your brain, why don’t you.”
A small smile quirks the corners of Percy’s mouth, although it fades as quickly as it comes. He wipes his face with his sleeve, breath shuddering.
“She didn’t scare me, though.”
“Not even once?”
“Not in the same way,” Percy admits. “I was scared, once, when I looked at her. In the death mist. But that wasn’t — her, you know? She could never scare me.”
“I mean,” Nico wrinkles his nose, trying to articulate, “I think that’s kind of abnormal?”
Percy tilts his head.
“I just mean that you have a very high threshold, Percy. For…what you’ll tolerate from people you care about.”
“Everyone has that.”
“Not in the same way you do.” He taps his knuckles, considering. “Tell me the truth — if Annabeth stabbed someone to death in front of you, in total cold blood, would you help her hide the body?”
“Yes,” he says immediately. He shrinks, a little. “Oh.”
Nico rushes to assure, placing a fleeting touch on his wrist. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t think. It’s just —” He shrugs. “I’m used to scaring people, too. I don’t mean to. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand what I — do, it’s not intentional.”
Percy opens his mouth, but Nico stumbles on.
“But you’re not — a monster, Percy, gods. No one thinks you’re a monster. Especially not Annabeth.”
Percy wiggles his finger under his watch strap, turning it tightly around his wrist, cutting off the circulation. Nico watches but doesn’t say anything.
“You’re not, either.”
Nico blinks. “Huh?”
“A monster,” he explains. “You’re not, either.”
“Oh.” Nico shrugs. “Thanks, I guess.”
“No, I mean it, dude, I — look. Listen.” Percy sighs. “You got baggage. I put some of it on you. I’m sorry.”
Hands around his — throat — angry, angry eyes — harder — bruising — you promised! you promised! you promised!
“It’s fine.” A pause. “I did shit to you, too.”
“It’s not fine. And I know you did. We can still —”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He sighs again, a long, defeated sound, and curls in on himself.
“One day you’ll forgive yourself,” Nico murmurs. “One day I’ll — me too, I guess. Me and you.”
Percy smiles tiredly. “And we’ll be okay?”
“No. You’ll still be annoying.”
He snorts. “Whatever. Drama queen.”
“Oh, I’m the drama queen, Mr. I Don’t Deserve To Be Loved.”
Percy snorts. He turns back to his textbook, fiddling with the dried page, and snorts again, trying to duck his head. Nico bites the corner of his mouth, hard. Percy glances up again, and Nico meets his eyes, and they —
Gods, they’re bad at this.
But suddenly Percy can’t choke back his laughter, and it’s wheezing and self-deprecating and still kind of teary and Nico is laughing, too, because thank the gods that shit is over. Percy’s red-cheeked and Nico is red-cheeked and neither of them are going to look at each other for a week, Nico’s sure, but for now he can roll his eyes at Percy’s melodrama and dodge his embarrassed shoving, and it’s fine.
“You should talk to Annabeth,” Nico suggests, when the giggling has toned down.
Percy picks at the torn-up skin around his nails. “Probably.”
“Are you going to?”
“Why were you lying on the floor?” Percy asks instead. It is the least subtle subject change of all time, but Nico takes it as the hint it is and drops the subject. It’s not his business, anyway. They’ll talk. He knows Annabeth better than to think she’ll let it fester, at least.
“Oh, you know. Crushing weight of being alive, mortifying ordeal of being known, et cetera, et cetera.”
“Oh my gods. I’m sorry I asked.”
“Well, serves you right then, you selfish bitch.”
Percy snorts. “What, I cry all over you and now it’s your turn to vent?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how it works. Transactional and eye-for-an-eye. Exactly as friendship should be.”
“You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are,” Percy says, but he can’t tamp down his smile any more than he can stop his eyes from rolling, so there. Nico is exactly as funny as he thinks he is, thank you very much. A regular comedian.
Percy snaps textbook closed and sets it on the bedside table. “So.”
“So.”
Nico squirms. Suddenly he’s not sure why the hell he came in here in the first place. Are the floors in Cabin Thirteen really that bad? Surely not. Surely Floor Time didn’t have to be in Percy’s cabin.
(He blames Father for this. He’s horribly nosy. No doubt he’s passed his nosiness onto Nico, irregardless of his lack of DNA, and made Nico the way that he is. He can’t think of a single other reason he ducked into the cabin after lunch, when Percy still hadn’t shown his face.)
“Dude, come on. You came in here and whined and huffed and made a nuisance of yourself for literally forty minutes, and now that I’m giving you the attention you begged for you don’t want it? Nuh-uh. Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill about,” Nico protests, “gods, can’t a man just complain in peace —”
“Ha! Not sure you can call yourself a ‘man’ if you’re voice is still cracking, squirt.”
“I literally hate you. Not joking.”
“Uh-huh. Okay.” Percy raises an eyebrow. “Well, since my guts are already spilled out and flopping all over the floor —”
“Disgusting.”
“—so it’s your turn, now.” He pokes Nico’s bicep. Nico bats him away, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor, scooting over to put more space between them. Thankfully, Percy doesn’t follow, and he exhales, settling his back against the bed frame. The mattress springs creak again as he readjusts. “You can tell me, you know.” Nico can hear the smile in his voice at the cheeky repitition. “I won’t — tell anyone. Or anything. Ahem.”
“You’re so annoying.” Nico picks at a loose thread in the knees of his pants, looping it around his finger.
Will thinks ripped jeans are stupid. He hadn’t said so outright, when Nico came back from his Aphrodite-Cabin-enforced shopping trip, but Nico had noticed his pursed lips and deliberately schooled face. When he’d pressed about it, pestering him until he’d given up with the very southern passive aggressive if you like, Nico, I love, don’t you worry about it answer, he’d gotten a forty minute rant about jeans that “sold less jean for more fuckin’ money” that made him laugh until he cried.
He yanks the thread and pulls. The hole widens.
“Oh my gods, you’re actually whipped. Is that what this is?”
Nico flushes. “Shut up.”
“It is!” Percy grins widely, wicked delight in his eyes. “You are literally thinking about him right now! You might as well be kicking your feet! You —”
“Shut up, Percy, gods.”
“I’ve never seen you so red,” he says instead, because he is incapable of following instructions. His smile fades, face softening into something more pensive. “You must really like him.”
Nico shrugs. Is that what he feels for Will? Gorgeous. I’ve been crushing on you forever. He likes a lot of people. You always know just what I need. A lot of people aren’t Will.
“He’s not scared of me.” No matter how much he fiddles with it, the metal of his ring is always cold. Cold hands, he supposes. He never heats up much. “Or. intimated. Creeped out. He thinks I’m —”
He clamps his mouth shut. A bubble of something expands in his chest, growing out of his lungs, past his shoulders, pushing his throat closed. He swallows, hard, trying to shove it back, but — Nico! Hey! You think I couldn’t stand to see a friendly face? No way, Death Boy, no more Underworld-y magic for you! I can literally feel you fading! My hands are still shaking — here, feel.
“Gorgeous?” The smile on Percy’s face is teasing, but much softer than before. “I heard he — said.”
Maybe it’s the redness of Percy’s nose that hasn’t quite faded, or his still-puffy eyes, but finally the bubble pops, and Nico sighs, tipping his head back until it rests on the edge of the bed. He closes his eyes. After a beat of hesitation, callused fingers brush through his hair, ruffling it, lingering awkwardly before pulling away. He smiles.
“Yes.”
“…Really? He just up and told you, that he had a —”
Percy stumbles on the words. Nico peeks one eye open and grinning wryly. “Yeah. He’s a hell of a lot braver than I am. Or maybe he’s just shameless.”
“He was always really intense about being your friend.” Percy screws up his face, tilting his head as if envisioning it. “I didn’t understand what that meant, at first. I didn’t get…the reason? Behind it? If that makes sense.”
“You forgot about gay people,” Nico says drily. “I know.”
“This is true,” Percy admits. He grins, sheepish. “That’s an L on my part. Every time me and Annabeth went looking for you he’d somehow know about it and ask us a bajillion questions when we got back. I just thought he was really into necromancy, or something, but now it’s like…damn.”
Nico covers his eyes with his hand, fighting back an embarrassed smile. He thinks your eyes are a tie between moonstone and agate, in case you were wondering. There is literally not a single soul in this camp unaware about how much he likes you.
“You’d think it would be easier to get him to go out with me, then.”
“It hasn’t been?”
Nico throws his hands up. “No! He doesn’t — I got him flowers, Percy, and he ground them up to make a poultice. He thought the rock I got him was a bribe. I open every door for him and I always pull out a chair for him at counsellor meetings. I make sure to stand up first when we’re sitting together and offer him a hand. I don’t know what else I can — do, gods.” He makes a noise of frustration, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m being as obvious as I can be. What am I gonna have to do to get him to realise? Fuckin’ — tattoo his name on my forehead?”
Percy slides his hand into his pocket, pulling out his pen. He twists it around his fingers, fiddling with the cap, picking at the plastic casing. He uses the end of it to trace mindless swirls on his thigh, which Nico can’t help but feel is dangerous. One wrong move and he better hope Nico can drag him to the fountain fast enough to stabilize him. But his eyes are far away, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek.
“There is a chance,” he says slowly, “that he…knows.”
Nico frowns, turning to face him properly. He looks resolutely at his lap. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I — well.” He does finally uncap his blade, staring at the soft glow of the bronze, rubbing his thumbnail over the leather handle. “I. Knew,” he says haltingly. “That Annabeth liked me. I —”
Nico watches him carefully. This is…news, to him. He didn’t keep up much on camp drama about the two of them — for obvious reasons — but he hardly had to. Even during his brief, one or two day stops at Camp, Percy and Annabeth gossip was impossible to avoid. People talked about them constantly, about how much they obviously cared for each other, how oblivious, especially, Percy was. It used to give him a twisted sort of hope.
“You…knew? And you didn’t do anything?”
Percy winces. “She got frustrated with hiding it. She kissed me, once, before I blew up St. Helens. And I just —” He shrugs. “I couldn’t believe that someone like her would want anything to do with someone like me.”
It’s impossible to miss his meaning, to miss the self-directed bitterness at the end of his words. Nico recognises it because he practically invented it. Someone like me. Someone disgusting, ugly, unworthy. Someone bitter and twisted and wrong. Someone so undeserving.
“I think Will is like me,” Percy continues softly. “That — insecurity.” He says the word quickly, like he might be able to hide it in the rest of the sentence. “I think he thinks very highly of you. And I think it’s hard for him to believe that you want to — to lower yourself, to be with him.”
“That’s inane,” Nico argues. “He’s — bright and kind and smart and — he’s fucking everything, what is he —!”
“He grew up a healer in a camp full of warriors. Full of talented people,” Percy murmurs. “When you’re surrounded by people who know what they’re doing, it’s easy to feel like a loser.”
Nico opens his mouth, closing it again. On principle he doesn’t agree with Percy. It doesn’t make sense. Every single person at this camp has relied on Will in more than one way for as long as he’s been here — as long as he’s been healing them. How could he not know what his purpose is? How could he not realise his talents?
Ace bandage, sound and unwound. Hard blue eyes, self-directed sneer. I’m just a healer.
“He’s not a loser,” Nico says eventually. “I don’t think he’s a — loser.”
Nico thinks he’s quite a bit more than that, actually. In fact if all words in the any language he knows, ‘loser’ is probably the least apt to describe him.
“How do I make him realise? Make him —”
Percy shrugs. “Took Annabeth several years and I still think I’m — well. I still struggle. You’ll have to be patient.” He glances over, and that mischevious smile is back on his face, the one that promises trouble and guarantees Nico an excuse to kick him. “Or, you know, you could just tell him that you think he’s bright, and kind, and smart, and beautiful, and —”
Nico does indeed kick him. He falls back against his pillow, laughing, curled against his side.
“I did not — I did not say beautiful,” Nico says hotly, “that was not on the list, you total jackass —”
Percy only laughs harder, no matter how many times Nico kicks him.
———
next
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
Text
Vox x Reader Headcanons: Fiancé Edition
Fiancé!Vox x gn!Reader
A/N: MY BRAINROT IS BRAINROTTING OKAY I JUST NEEDED TO DUMP THIS STUFF SOMEWHERE AFTER SEEING ALL THE WIFEY ALASTOR AND LUCIFER STUFF- LIKE I LOVE THOSE TWO BUT LEMME YEET IN MY BELOVED SAMSUNG TV NOW YALL- THIS COULD MOST LIKELY BE OOC COMPARED TO CANON BUT LIKE- LET ME DREAM I WANT THIS FLATSCREEN SO BAD P L E A A A S E-
A/N: This little thingy would have both an SFW and NSFW portion, mostly because I'm a depraved little shit and I am downbad for a 7ft bipedal television with issues-
SFW HEADCANONS:
Now first off, y'all probably would've been dating a long long while before this mans would pop the question.
I feel like he'd know that he wants to marry you, but he's so unsure of it plus he's concerned about how that would affect you in all of it.
Like, oh great if this gets out suddenly you've got one of the biggest targets on your back because you're the technology overlord's fiance and soon to be wife/husband.
As if you hadn't already when you both started dating-
Vox is a perfectionist so I'd imagine he would try so so hard to get everything completely flawless for his proposal.
But nothing goes his way that day, none, nada, zilch-
That's just his luck, totally not because it got screwed over by a certain radio demon for shits and giggles.
But he ends up asking you anyway, though a bit indirectly because it slips during his irritated rant.
"I can't believe they managed to spill wine all over me back there! All over one of my best suits as well!"
"Hun, we could always send your suit to the professional cleaners. It's okay! We can always just go someplace else next time too-"
"No! That- ugh! I had all these plans today and they were just ruined! I wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for when I was going to propose to you-"
"You were gonna what-"
Vox immediately shut up once he realized his screwup then.
So much for keeping it a surprise!
That's kind of how you ended up with a diamond ring on your finger that night.
And that's how Vox ended that really stressful day with an extremely satisfying night.
He ditched work the next day and just spent it being all over you.
Yes he admires the ring on your hand from time to time, this man just stares.
You can betcho ass that ring is expensive as fuck too.
Like as if this man didn't kiss your hands enough, that new accessory marking a new chapter of your afterlives just makes him do it more.
He's actually kinda housewife material if you squint-
This man can cook and clean, and as a bonus he's filthy stinkin RICH.
Bro I need me one of these holy shit-
If he wasn't clingy enough before, oh boy get ready for this.
He will always have an appendage on you at all times, a hand on your lower back, your hip, in your hand-
Or he'd just have you in his lap while he worked on stuff in his office.
Also, Vox being possessive as all hell if someone so much as just stared at you too long-
Please that goes straight up to 1000% when you agreed to wear that ring.
You guys planning to get hitched doesn't stay secret for too long though.
With Valentino and Velvette sticking their noses in Vox's business as a daily pastime anyhow-
Hence why a lot of sinners started shipping you two.
And oh goodness the ship wars.
Sometimes Vox wishes the internet wasn't really connected to his brain-
The magazines went wild with that one too-
Cuz imagine, the richest and the pride ring's probably most esteemed bachelor-
Aside from Lucifer probably, Vox's marketing and PR team are insanely good at their jobs-
Was now off the market and due to get hitched with you.
I'd imagine even if Vox doesn't post anything on social media, you or Vel would-
Literally like those married couples on TikTok or something with a whole bunch of cute shit.
You can best believe the most cracked out shit happens while you're both engaged though.
"Oh this is Vox, he's my ex-boyfriend."
"... You have got to stop saying that. I'm their fiancé."
You did not stop saying that.
Actually you wouldn't stop saying that even when his title upgraded to husband.
Not that Vox cares, your shenanigans were what caused him to gravitate towards you in the first place.
And until now they're what keep your relationship fun and interesting.
"Hey hubby, ooooh~ you're looking like the hottest thing in all of the pride ring despite having just rolled out of bed."
"Hahaha, good morning to you too doll."
It doesn't register what you called him at first until he's had his coffee and then it clicks.
You play it off attempting to be coy until he replays the video of you greeting and calling him that on his face.
His. Face.
Sneaky little shit that's what-
He doesn't really respond to any other petname now, you've dug your grave.
"Vox."
"Vox."
"Vooooooxxxx-"
"What? What?? What do you want???"
"Can you peel this orange for me?"
"Really? That's it? Why don't you peel it yourself?"
"Because it tastes better when you do it?"
He does it eventually, hell if he's in a particularly good mood he'll even feed you.
That's always kind of how it goes when you ask him for things.
If it's something you want/can buy though?
You're already in possession of his credit card, just get whatever tf you want HAHAHAHA-
He's still a busy bastard though so it's not really much different from how it's like when you guys were dating-
But he genuinely tries to balance his work a little better to spend more time with you.
This man is such a workaholic though you end up having to drag his ass out of his office to rest anyway.
Again, nothing new from when you were just dating.
You guys jokingly throw around your soon to be marital titles in private.
Vox kind of feels like a kid in a candy store when you do, just giddy and excited for what's to come.
Not to mention he now has a partner in crime when he riffs on Alastor!
He'd be over the MOON if you just joined his chaos.
The radio demon probably wouldn't give a shit, he's just built different like that-
You both get so comfortable that you almost forget that you have a wedding to plan and set a date for.
Until Velvette asks about it and you're both just: "Oh. Right."
Your fiancé's schedule is so fucking packed though it was nearly impossible to.
This guy was going to work himself to death before you could tie the knot lmao-
But eventually you both got a date and venue settled, so that was one step closer.
NSFW HEADCANONS:
Okay so like, I know sinners can't actually copulate unless you're Lucifer but that's besides the point-
And Vox isn't really a family man at all-
But boy oh boy if he didn't have it before-
This man would have an insane breeding kink after you both got engaged.
This man wants to see you stuffed.
Literally doesn't matter if you're riding him or he's just impaling you on his cock-
This guy just wants to fill you up so bad.
I'd also think that you guys would be screwing around a lot more often after he popped the question-
Something about emotions constantly running high and dopamine being one hell of a drug.
I think Vox is a switch, so I'd also imagine he'd be more inclined to let you dom him every now and then.
Or when he just wants to be a bratty little shit please go ahead and tame him, he likes it.
You can kind of get away with more stuff when you're both engaged.
Like tease him a whole ton and he just bites hook, line and sinker.
It's already gotten to the point where the power in the tower would die often enough that Velvette herself has gone through some crazy lengths to cockblock her colleague.
Speaking of, Vox would probably use you as a stress reliever after work if you let him-
Like he will just fuck you stupid until all you say is his name because this guy is addicted to hearing it.
Or he'd let you fuck him stupid until he's so far into sub space he forgets about his shitty day.
Cuz if it's rough, it's rough with you two.
But on the gentler side-
It's just as addicting and if not probably a little worse.
Though you would probably be the one taking initiative/domming whenever you both have gentle rounds.
I'm all for Vox being able to switch some of his parts cuz he wanted to/can.
So y'all have fucking choices when it comes to wrecking this idiot.
Like a multiple choice exam, literally shotgun the fuck outta those answers like you deteriorate his mental.
And consequently the entire city's power grid.
"GODDAMNIT! VOX! (Y/N)! NOT AGAIN!!"
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
Note
Hii!! So I just read your new fic with vox (phenomenal job by the way!!) and I saw your SNEEKY LITTLE A/N AT THE END and I MUST know how that went 😋
Could you pretty please write the morning aftermath of Dom!Reader railing Vox into the mattress? He’d be all weepy and teary and apologizing profusely but it just comes out as him babbling nonsense? I have such bad Vox brain rot and it’s consuming my very SOUL.
Also im not sure if you do emoji anons, but if you do , can I please be 🪐? Thank you soooo much and I love your writing!!
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a/n — I didn’t expect to write this fic so soon. I thought i’d at least procrastinate a week.
summary — A follow up of a previous fic where Vox annoyed the reader to the point they cried. This is afterwards where the reader decides to punish thehell out of Vox and rail him into a mattress.
warnings — Smut, gn reader, but afab implied, aka use of the word ‘strap’ like once, dom reader, sub Vox
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Vox was no stranger to taking a punishment from you. But he doesn’t think you’ve ever got this hard on him. 
In hindsight, he should have saw it coming when you asked him to wear the buttplug in the morning. So he could be ‘ready for tonight.’ A perfectly normal sentence alluding to sex, right? 
Well it would be, if not for the growl in your voice and the sinister smile. He knew why he was being punished.
The previous day he had been too much of a brat during a time where you were already overwhelmed. It was a shitty thing to do and if he was being honest, he did feel bad. But now, of course he would pay for it.
That’s exactly what led him to his current position underneath you, face down in the mattress and ass up in the air.
Your hands had a deathly grip on his hips, tight enough to leave a terrible bruise the next day. You didn’t care though, as this was probably the most genuinely pissed off you’ve ever been at Vox during sex.
You aggressively thrust into him, making him yelp. “What the fuck—ffzz— Take it easy, god,” He complained uselessly, knowing this would only make you more angry.
“Aw, i’m sorry. I thought you wanted a reaction out of me, you pathetic fucking attention whore,” you spit out your words, rolling your hips faster.
He bit back a whine, reluctant to let you win so soon, despite the aching feeling of guilt building up in his stomach.
“Would you— hngh— would you get over it, already?” He grunted out, trying to hold back his needy noises.
Now that you could take a little teasing, he wanted to see you mad. He wanted to make you fuming enough to fuck him until he cries. 
There was a desperate depraved need in him to see you tear him apart. Oh, and his approach was working. 
“I’ll be over it once I blow your fucking back out, slut. You really never know when to shut up, huh, Vox?” You hiss rolling your hips and an even but incredibly fast pace.
You could see Vox squirm underneath you, hiding his face in the pillows to muffle his moans. 
“Fuck, just like that I— bzzsh—“ he try’s not to beg, wanting to sound more like a demand.
In his own way, he was still in control in this situation. As long as you kept fucking him like that, he would have a fantastic orgasm in no time.
“Oh, you wouldn’t be trying to hide your pathetic noises in those pillows, are you, baby?” All of a sudden your hips slow down.
Before Vox could think he let a simple whine slip from his throat. The build up to his climax was interrupted by your sudden change of pace.
“Fuck— what are you—“ Your hips slow to a stop and you pull out.
“Hey!” He yells, on the brink of a tantrum, “I was fucking close.”
You flip him over so he’s on his back looking up at you. There’s a growl to your voice the next time you speak.
“No, the fuck you weren’t,” you tease his hole with the tip of your strap, “Your not close until I say so, how about that?”
He whimpers softly and squeezes his eyes shut, wishing desperately to feel you inside of him again.
“Are you sorry, yet?”
“Yes, I am. St—szz—stop teasing, fuck,” he whines, gazing bitterly up at you.
“No, you’re not sorry. You will be though,” without warning, you plunge back into him. He yelps and grabs onto your neck for support. 
You went at an agonizing pace, one that made tears prick in the corner of Vox’s eyes. 
You seemed so genuinely mad at him. In fact, you seemed to get increasingly mad by the second. He was sure he wasn’t imagining this, from the sharp way you dug into his hips with your nails, or the aggressive way you thrusted into him.
Whether Vox liked it or not, he was beginning to feel sorry. Your degrading and scornful words started to wear on him, and he clung to your neck tightly. 
“Oh god, Oh god pleas—szz—please,” he whined into your ear, feeling his screen heat up from being overwhelmed, “Oh please i’m s—szz—sorry. I’m so sorry,”
He thought about how upset he made you earlier and all at once, he was ashamed of himself. His brain started to feel fuzzier and fuzzier with every roll of your hips. He was tired of feeling hated by you and regretted making you so mad.
“Ungh, please— bzz— ‘m sorry ‘m sorry,” his screen blanked out for a few seconds before he came too with a large moan.
“What do you want me to say, sweetheart? You want me to praise you and call you a good boy for saying sorry?” You tease.
Vox whimpers and vigorously nods his head, desperate for a taste of your sweet forgiveness. 
“Well, I’m sorry baby. That’s just not enough,” you buck up into him, rather harshly. He cries miserably.
“Please i’ll be so good—ozzs— I’ll be such a good boy, I’ll do anything, pleas—szz—ease,” He babbled, tears falling from his eyes and dripping onto his screen.
“I’ll treat you so much better, ‘m sorry, I s—szz—swear,” His grip tightens around your neck, clawing digging into you slightly. You grab onto his lower back for support, one hand still on the mattress.
All of his composure was completely gone and he was becoming borderline incoherent. The lights flickered around you and his screen blacker out more multiple seconds at a time.
You shoved back down onto the mattress, removing his arms from your neck as you thrust into him. He whined at the loss of contact and noticed the unavoidable, incredibly rare, feeling of guilt sink deep into him.
He said he was sorry and he really meant it, he didn’t want you to be mad at him anymore.
You took pity on him when you saw his teary eyes and his fucked out screen. Leaning down, you sink your teeth into his neck and suck, still thrusting upward into him.
After a moment of drawing more whimpers from Vox, you finally show some mercy.
“Are you close, sweetheart?” you purr into his neck. He whimpers and sobs something inaudible.
“Use your words, baby.”
“Ungh— Yes, fuck—bzzz— ‘m close,” His audio buffered more than twice every two seconds, making you shush him back into soft whines.
His eyes were still weepy from the guilt and from the lack of praise contrasted with all the attention.
“You’re lucky i’m so nice,” you remarked, rolling your hips, “Usually I wouldn’t let a crybaby like you cum so soon.”
He half sobs at your harsh words. You follow them up soon, however.
“But I think you’ve had enough punishment? huh, pretty boy?” You say, moving your hand down to toy with his aching dick.
He cries out, whining and squirming pathetically. You rub the tip, trying to coax his orgasm out.
“Don’t hold back on me now, Vox. We both know you wanna cum,” you tease down at him, “My sweet boy,”
He moans thrashing around under all the attention given to his ass and dick. He didn’t pick up on the next few words you said, they didn’t sound nice, though.
Within a couple seconds, his screen goes completely blank as he climaxes, falling back into the mattress, breathless.
You don’t pull out yet, instead leaning down to coo sweet praises at him for taking his punishment so well. 
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson baby. There’s a time and a place to be a brat,” you plant a kiss on his screen, “You took it all so well thought, sweetheart. ‘m so proud of you.” 
He whined under your touch, needing to be held by you. It took him a moment for him to realize the room around you two was completely dark. Somewhere in the mix, the power had gone out and he’d hadn’t noticed
When you finally pulled out and wrapped your arms around him, he snuggled in. 
He did end up learning his lesson. Lesson being; bratting out on good days leads to being fucked good and hard.
He’d keep it in mind for next time.
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a/n — Oh my god i’m sorry i’ve been so inactive this week. I have not been feeling it lately but i’ll try to get more shit out later.
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svtskneecaps · 2 years
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ok i'm a little miffed so i'm gonna spill it here so i don't dwell on it as i'm trying to sleep
#'if u were awake at human hours' JESUS mom fuckin THANKS like it even matters to you what time i'm up?? you're at WORK#i wake up for my job and for school so what if on recreation days i sleep in later than acceptable??#and then she brings up my sibling was upset last summer bc i'd sleep in til past noon and my other sister would be up in her room#so my sibling would be alone in the living room for hours#like??? i never thought it was a PROBLEM for them i mean it's not like they talked to me even when i TRIED#like we NEVER interacted even when i WAS awake they'd just sit in there doing their thing and i'd be in the dining room doing mine#and SOMETIMES we'd have a ten minute conversation and SOMETIMES i'd try talking abt my random hyperfixations#but there's only so much i can handle when i get hit with 'this person is looking at their phone and not even#making 'mhm' noises when i stop for breath'#like if they are clearly not listening to me i'm just going to shut down i can't fuckin help it i'm made of complexes and 'annoying' is big#even bringing shit up on this hell blog makes my brain do the bad brr#like i TRY and they swear they're trying to pay attention and god bless em but it isn't working and there's only so fucking much i can do#and i'm trying my best to be interested in their interests bc i still wanna know what my sibling is up to and interested in#and i'm trying not to be petty about it not being two ways bc i still fuckin care about them and i don't want to push them away#just bc they can't focus when i start spewing shit about like. night at the museum or kingdom hearts or something#idk maybe it's different bc i'm always tangentially familiar with the stuff they like where they have 0 experience w my stuff#i just. like i wish my mom would stop fuckin badgering me about 'human hours'#like i don't work a goddamn nine to five and i'm a living knot of anxiety of course i'm going to crash for twelve hours after my retail job#if i'm working with people AND on my feet for hours AND still recuperating from a semester AND some other braintwisting shit like??#of COURSE i'm out of commission once i actually manage to get myself down#bc LET'S NOT FORGET IT TAKES ME AN HOUR TO GET TO SLEEP ON A GOOD DAY#anyway it's ruffling my feathers#i wake iup when it's asked of me but fuck me for not wanting to be awake before noon unless i'm being paid#not kpop#shut up vic#negativity#there now i won't be rolling that rant around while i'm trying to tell myself a bedtime story#gnight lads
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highhhfiveee · 4 months
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can I request mike, reader, and Abby going to the beach :p!?
[i'm combining this with another ask! they requested the same setting, but with a scenario!]
i wish i could go to the beach so bad!! i fucking love the summer and it's damn near the dead of winter where i live ],: i also get cold so easily and i can't take freezing every morning lmao
tags: sweetgf!reader + dickheadbf!mike, light smut (oral [deepthroating and come swallowing], m!receiving), mostly fluff and being grateful for life and the people who you live it with [: proofread but maybe there are still errors! kill me, i'm human!
i am imagining:
you and mike are sitting on the couch on a late friday morning, hypnotized by daytime television after a big, indulgent breakfast and chats about mike's shift. abby had retreated to the adjacent loveseat, fast asleep with a stomach full of pancakes and eggs.
"it's so hotttt," mike grumbles, stretching his sweaty body out like a starfish. the limbs on his right side invade your space, leaving you to shrink into the couch with a groan.
"yeah, mike, too hot for you to be doing that. stoppp," you return his irritated tone, bringing your hands up to push into him. it was the hottest day of the summer so far, and it wasn't like you weren't also feeling the elements. not even the AC unit turned to full blast could cool the living room, and it made every breath feel thick and labored.
mike stands from his spot on the couch, dramatically dragging his body over to the kitchen. you watch as he yanks the freezer door open with impatience, craning his head into the crystalized cool and saying, "it's too hot to be living."
you turn your body to extend across the whole sofa, thankful that your hair is up and out of your face so you're able to feel the tickle of a breeze on the nape of your neck. you bite at your bottom lip as the gears of your brain churn through a heat-induced fog, thinking of how to keep cool at a time like this.
abby stirs then, stretching and yawning and squealing, "it was hot in my dream too." you turn your head to her, pursing your lips to the side in disappointment.
"aw, abs, i'm sorry. that sucks."
"i was at the beach though, which i think makes up for it---"
"omg, the beach! we should go!" you cheer, but mike shuts you down once he hears abby wholeheartedly agree.
"uh, the closest beach is six hours away."
"well, maybe we can make a weekend out of it," you suggest, motioning for abby to come sit with you. she delicately settles on your thighs, relaxing into the couch and swinging her legs over the edge.
"yeah, with what money?"
"i can dip into my savings a little bit, at least for the hotel and gas," you offer, and mike is shutting you down again, shaking his head as he cranes it towards you and humming "nuh uh"s.
"c'mon mike, i don't mind! listen, i want to do this for us," you're hugging abby into you, pressing your cheeks together and telepathically communicating for her to help you convince mike with her own set of puppy dog eyes. "we'll leave in the evening so you can get some rest, and we can split the drive."
"abby doesn't have a license."
your face scrunches as you confusedly mutter, "why would you include your eleven year old sister in a 'we' of that context?" as abby states, "you're weird, mike." in the same tone.
"i know, my joke didn't land, i guess," mike sighs, letting his head drop between his shoulders as he closes the freezer door. the sound of suction punctuates his action, and he turns to you and abby with a grimace before saying, "three hours behind a steering wheel just doesn't seem appealing. two would be a hell of a lot more digestible."
"oh my god, mike, you're so pitiful," you playfully chide, crossing your arms over your chest. "i promise that you'll survive, grumpy. tell you what, i'll drive four hours so you'll only have to drive two."
the sweet drawl of your voice and trivial suggestion to take on more work is all it takes for mike to fold and drive all six hours.
he doesn't do it with a smile, but you're still grateful for his sacrifice, cupping his face and kissing his cheek as he drives into the sizzling orange pulse of the sunset. "i love youuuu," you sing, and he grumbles for like the millionth time that day as you ignore him and muse, "and abby loves you, and we're gonna have so much fun on our beach weekend!!"
you and abby begin to whoop and cheer and dance in your seats, chanting, "beachbeachbeach!", and you pretend not to notice the slight smirk that cracks the perpetual stiffness of mike's mouth.
you spend the first half of the trip singing along to an old CD abby had burned sometime ago--"you always have to keep a road trip mix on hand"--, playing various word association games, and sucking fluorescent orange dust from your fingers after you chuck a cheeto into mike's mouth and pass the bag back to abby.
the second half is stiller; abby has fallen asleep again, soothed by the motions of the car, and you're staring at mike's side profile as he drives. he's so tired; it's painted in his eyes and over his body, with the way he slumps into the driver's seat and focuses on the road like nothing else is around him.
he catches your gaze after a bit, breaking himself away from his trance. he switches hands on the wheel so he's able to clutch your thigh, gently kneading at your skin, and with a small grin, asks, "got a nice view?"
"yeah, but it seems the view isn't feeling so nice," you raise your hand to his shoulder, your turn to massage into him. he's so tense under your touch, and you watch his eyes flicker with your words, training back on the four lane highway ahead. "i think this will be nice for us. we all deserve a nice vacation; especially you, mikey. you've been working hard, and i know you're tired."
"yeah," mike breathes softly, the gentlest you think he's been all day. "i'm sorry about the way i was acting about the drive. i just couldn't think straight after my shift, your delicious breakfast, and sitting in the heat."
"i understand. three hours of driving isn't fun, but that's why i offered to take more of the load after you made that...bad joke."
"so now it's just categorically bad?" mike pouts with comical sorrow, and you giggle at him, nudging at his shoulder with soft pressure.
"yes, because why was she included in we? obviously abby can't drive."
"it was supposed to be one of my sillies,"
"you're just usually better at them," you argue, and it sends the both of you into a laughing fit that gives you a stomach cramp, mike affirming, "yeah, yeah, you're right, you're right. shit, are you okay?" as you try to calm down.
after relaxing back into a comfortable silence, you're bringing mike's hand to your lips, kissing at his knuckles when he blurts, "thank you for putting up with me, and for paying for stuff so short notice."
"oh hush. i love you, mike. truly. we take care of each other, don't we?" you squeeze his hand as you continue, placing it over your heart. "there hasn't been a second i've been with you where i haven't felt supported, and now it's my turn to support you. plus, this is like abby's first real vacation. i want her to have the best time too. we don't have any money when we're dead, so we might as well say we had experiences, yeah?"
"i love you. you're an angel on earth," mike hums lovingly as he pulls off of an exit, able to relax his head against the headrest and leer at you once he brakes at a red light. "our angel on earth." you writhe under his enamored stare, blushing and gnawing on your bottom lip with an airy giggle, and later, after you've gotten to your hotel and tucked abby into bed, you're back in the car doing that same giggle with his dick lodged in your throat.
"my angel on earth," he repeats as he folds his fingers into your hair so he can pull on it, maintaining eye contact while you sloppily guide yourself on him. his toes curl and his thigh muscles spasm, and he's panting down on your face as his other hand grabs his steering wheel in a white hot grip. "fuck, baby."
you're grateful that you were able to book a room facing outwards on the first floor of the hotel; you could be disgusting with mike in the car while ensuring abby's safety through the front windshield.
it helped solidify that there were no worries in your orbit; everything here was perfect, and you feed that passion into taking mike deeper, holding his gaze even as a tear runs down your cheek after an obscene gag that resonates through the whole car.
you swallow around him as you reach down to caress his balls, and crack a triumphant smile when he tenses, brokenly whimpering and bucking his hips into your face with sinful desperation. he doesn't stop as he shoots his come into your mouth, using the hand in your head to tilt your head back so the overflow doesn't choke you.
you moan as you taste him on your tongue, drinking it down while you flash mike the watery, filthy twinkle in your eyes. he thinks that it extends his orgasm, his balls tightening with another spray of white down your throat.
though his body burns with fatigue, mike brings his thumb to the corner of your lips to collect a spilt remnant of himself, pushing it into your mouth where he feels the warm plushiness of your tongue wrap around his digit. "god, i think you're gonna kill me one day. this mouth is deadly."
"one day, yes, but not today or saturday or sunday. not while we're on vacation."
you both retire to the room after, two immovable stone statues in bed until 7 am, when you're both ripped from your sleep by abby's noisy movements. she's enthusiastically throwing the curtains open, drowning you two in painfully bright sunlight and skipping over to hop on the bed, narrowly missing your shins and knees with her uncoordinated steps.
"abby, abby, abby," mike drones groggily, reaching out for her ankles.
you blearily watch as she snatches it out of his reach, and you can't help but laugh as you two make eye contact. "come on!! we're on vacation!! we've gotta start vacationing now!!"
"we don't have to start at...seven twenty-two in the morning," mike complains, wiping at his eyes after throwing his gaze to the alarm clock. "maybe we can do...ten."
"ten is way too late! if we eat now, we can wait it out and then go to the beach and stay all day! pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease--" you wrangle abby into your arms, squeezing her close to your body in an attempt to quiet her.
you smooth her hair down, tucking it behind her ears as you whisper, "hey, hey, how about we go get breakfast and meet mike a little later, okay? we can go in our pjs and everything," abby's eyes light up at your plan, and she's nodding excitedly, pulling on your wrist in order to wrench you from the warm bed. "let's go now then!"
"let me brush my teeth first, sweet thing, at least."
after another generous breakfast, two cat naps, and endless searching through bags marked with the sharp zztt zztt zztt of zippers, you, mike, and abby are established in the warm sand of a southern beach; it'd been a bit of a hassle to put the umbrella up, with its complicated, ancient instructions, but your tired muscles and mind are extraordinarily grateful for the effort as you lounge in your chair, leaning your head back into a neck pillow and scanning your eyes over your science fiction read.
after a bit, you stick your bookmark into the crease of your pages and remove your sunglasses from your face so you're able to get a clearer view of abby and mike along the shoreline.
they're laughing together, running back and forth and taunting the tide as it crashes against the sand in a white foam. "you can't let the tide get you, abby! the sea monsters will take you whole!" you chuckle as mike sweeps her up in his arms, swinging her over the water as he treads deeper.
you set your book down and travel towards the tide, picking up more of their conversation over the soft wind.
"wait, what---what---oh no, the sea monsters are speaking to me. they're saying...i have to give you up." mike shakes his head in faux despair, beginning to fake cry as abby yelps in his arms. "they say they've been looking for an eleven year old girl named abby for their mission!" he continues swinging her, pretending to dunk her in some moments and keeping her away from the water in others, claiming, "no, i won't let them have you!"
you place your hands on your hips, raising your eyebrow in preparation to play along as they make their way back to land. "everything okay over here? i heard something about...'sea monsters'."
"the sea monsters have mastered mind control," abby matter-of-factly explains, wiggling from mike's grasp and curling her toes back into the wet sand during her impromptu intermission. "they specifically need an eleven year old abby, but mike is such a great brother that he wouldn't dare give me up."
"wouldn't do it for all the money in the world," mike affirms with a smile and finger wag pointed to the sky. after a moment, he winces and squeezes his eyes tightly in pain, rubbing at his temples with two fingertips. "they're still in my head though. it's taking all my willpower to fight against them."
you nod at the both of them, an oddly fascinated smile etched onto your face. "well maybe you two can take them down and make them reform. ask them why they need children for their mission in the first place."
"well they don't always, do they, abs?" abby shakes her head as mike reaches out for you, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "in fact...they're asking for...you now."
you widen your eyes, playing up your shock with a hand to the heart. "oh jeez. well, thank god it's an adult this time. what would the world be without abby?"
"what would the world be like without me? you ask great questions, y/n. that's why i love you."
"i love you more, abs. i'm not letting them get you either," you reply, running your hand over the crown of her damp head with an affectionate grin as you feel mike sneakily wrap his arms around your waist, pressing you into him. "mike, wh--"
"the sea monsters have spoken. they want you!" you're off your feet before you can even finish your screech, flying towards the cresting waves. one moment, mike had you in his arms, trudging into deeper surf, and the next, you're shrouded in icy ocean water, the salt stinging your eyes and coating your unexpectant tongue in a disgusting layer of minerals.
mike's laughing as he slowly makes his way to the sand, his back facing the shore while he waits for you to come to the surface. he's beside abby when you finally rise, the joy dropping from both of their demeanors when they take you in.
your staunch displeasure could be seen from football fields away and it makes abby mischievously gulp, "uh oh" as you irritably trek through the water, stopping when it reaches your mid-thigh.
you're like a goddess, appearing from the ocean in your simple black bikini, water droplets beading over the exposed parts of your smooth bronze skin, and it's all mike wants to make you feel like in order to atone for his obvious mistake. he wants to throw you into his arms and apologize profusely and plant kisses all over your body and ask you what he can do to make it right; he'll do anything if it means he won't see you with crossed arms and a deep scowl.
your attitude has mike sprinting over, almost face planting as his feet slip in the waterlogged sand. his eyes are overwhelmingly remorseful, and he begins to spew sentiment as he grabs for you.
"i'm so sorry baby, are you okay? are you hurt?" his voice cracks as he examines you thoroughly, grazing his hands over your face and body. you nearly give up your act at his attentiveness, but you maintain, rolling your eyes at him. he deflates at that, whimpering, "fuck, i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i should've asked before i did that, i-i-i just thought since you were playing along that maybe it'd be okay...." mike's ramble trails off as he focuses on you stepping back into deeper water, and even more terrifyingly, your continued silence. "baby, hey, hey. are you okay?"
he follows you closely, and it's a foolish mistake on his own part; his consideration leaves him vulnerable, and you're able to ram your small frame into his torso, wrapping your own arms around his waist and tackling him into the chilly water. he goes down with a yell and comes up soon after with a cough and a smile, shaking the saltwater from his hair.
he wipes at his eyes as he reorients himself, rasping, "oh, i see. you were just getting back at me, being all cold and shit."
you watch him with your lips pursed amusedly, traversing around his recovering form so that you have an unobstructed escape route. "you gave me to the sea monsters, mike. i couldn't not get revenge."
"yeah, well, now this sea monster's gonna get you!" you noisily squeal as you run with high knees all the way to abby, who jumps and cheers for you back at the dry shore. "don't let them get you, y/n!"
"i won't!" you scream back, your words broken up with chuckles as you try your best to escape mike's aquatic nefariousness. you've made it out of the water, pulling abby into a wet embrace when mike clammers into the two of you, sending you all down to the lush sand.
it sticks to your skin as you belly-laugh with abby under mike's weight, feeling his heart pump through his ribs with adrenaline, and you can't help but think about how memorable this time will be for all of you.
mike and abby would be your family forever, and moments like this cemented that.
cute beach time!!! i love sweetgf and dickheadbf, they warm my heart.
faire's seedlings ✿
@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear-@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange
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andreafmn · 7 months
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Kinktober ⛓️ Day 3
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Word Count: 2.5K Paring:  Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Hate Sex WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI),  p-in-v sex, foul language, reader is technically underage
Summary: There is no one that (Y/N) despises more than Philip Gallagher, but having his brother as her best friend forces them in close proximity more than they would like. Or maybe they do?
A/N: This is set some time during season 3 so Lip is around 18 and reader would be 17 since she's contemporary with Ian's age, so do with that what you will.
<- Previous
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“Yo, Ian,” Lip’s voice rang through the house. “You’re girlfriend’s here!”
“Oh, fuck off, Lip,” (Y/N) said as she bumped past him into the Gallagher home. “I know you wish I was here to see you, but I don’t do charity work on Tuesdays.” 
“Fuck you, (Y/L/N). You’d be lucky if I was the one you were studying with.” 
“Of course, the genius Philip Gallagher that doesn’t even want to go to college,” she snickered, stopping at the rest on the stairs. “I’ll take my chances with my own brain. Thanks.”  
“You’ll regret helping Ian with math,” he called as he walked to the front door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 
With an exasperated scoff, (Y/N) walked up the rest of the stairs, clutching her backpack tighter than she should have. She didn’t understand why she and the older Gallagher son didn’t get along. She had a wonderful relationship with everyone else in the family –even Frank was courteous enough with her– but something never clicked with Lip. Every time they were in close proximity, they would bicker and fight until someone else got in the way. It made it especially difficult when (Y/N) came over to spend time with Ian. 
She would never say she hated Lip. But the sentiment was close enough that others would notice. Between the terrible side-eyes and the snide comments, being around the two could easily become suffocating. Granted, everyone but them knew what was truly happening. They had met their match in each other but were too stubborn to admit it. 
“You ran into Lip, didn’t you?” Ian chuckled as his friend walked into his room. “It’s all over your face.” 
“Unfortunately, I did,” she sighed, plopping down next to him on the floor. “But he seemed to be going somewhere, so I didn’t have to talk to him for much.” 
“Just long enough to make sure you got annoyed. Perfect mood to study Geometry with you.” 
“Fuck you, I’m always a delight.” 
“Sure. Until you spend a second with Lip, and then everything goes to shit.” 
“Shut up, Ian,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you want me to help you study, you’ll stop talking about your despicable brother, Phillip.” 
Hours passed between textbooks and worksheets, notebooks and loose papers, and somehow the bright afternoon sun had shifted into night. Ian had already gone to bed, tired from a long day of shapes and mathematical equations. Almost everyone in the house had done the same, tucked into bed early, which was a luxury for anyone on the South Side. 
Meanwhile, (Y/N) was still wide awake, taking advantage of the tiredness of the family to use up what was left of the hot water. She could have gone home, to her packed house and probably cold water, but she found comfort staying with the Gallaghers. The family was a melting pot of chaos, there were more fights than a WWE ring, and every single day brought a different kind of adventure. Her house had all of that, except the real warmth of a family. And being there made her feel like she was a part of something. 
The water ran across her skin, soothing the tight muscles that stiffened her body. The smell of soap filled her nose as she lathered herself, and she was glad that the bar seemed new still. They were small luxuries that she was grateful she could partake in every once in a while. And in the quiet of the night, it was almost peaceful.
Until a sound that did not fit into her spa-like scenario filled the air. From behind the curtain, she could hear a strong stream of liquid falling into the toilet. But she knew she had locked the door —not that it would have worked in that house anyway. 
She moved the curtain slightly to reveal Lip standing in front of the toilet. “What the fuck are you doing?” (Y/N) exclaimed, making sure her body was covered. “Can’t you see I’m using the bathroom?” 
“You’re in the shower. Toilet was up for grabs.” 
“Why couldn’t you have gone downstairs?” 
“Because I was already upstairs,” he shrugged, shaking his cock above the toilet as he finished. “Stop gawking, (Y/N). I know it’s impressive, but staring is kind of rude.” 
“Fuck you, Lip. I’ve seen better,” she said, closing the curtain to conceal the way her skin was flushing. “I’ve definitely been with better.” 
“Keep telling yourself that,” he snickered, turning on the sink. “But we both know the guys you’ve fucked are not exactly Adonises.”
“You’re such an asshole, Lip,” she scoffed. “If you’re gonna be here, at least pass me my towel.”
“Why should I? You can just step out.” 
“You’re not seeing me naked, Lip.” 
“It’s only fair,” he chuckled. “You saw mine, I get to see yours.” 
“Stop being a perv, Lip. I’m not one of those chicks you fuck for fun. I actually have standards.” 
“Right, and they’re so high, right?”
“They are.” 
“Is that why you fucked Billy Spencer two months ago or lost your v-card with Jesse Suarez in his car? Yeah, those standards are skyscraping high.” 
In a fit of rage, (Y/N) ripped the curtain open and sauntered out of the tub, getting as close to Lip as possible. “You don’t get to fucking judge my decisions, Philip,” she spat, jabbing her index finger against his chest. “Who I sleep with or don’t sleep with is none of your business. And you sure as hell are one to talk. Your list is not the most pristine, either. Starting with Karen, for example.”
“Don’t you fucking talk about her,” he said through gritted teeth, pushing back on her as she had. “You don’t talk about her.” 
“What? You can dish it out but can’t fucking take it, huh?”
“I can take whatever you fucking throw at me, (Y/N). I ain’t scared of you.” 
“Maybe you should be,” she continued. There was almost no space between them. She had him pressed against the wall, their noses almost touching as they heaved in anger. “There is no one else that can put you in your place like I can, and you know it.” 
“I don’t need you to put me in my place.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’re so fucking infuriating!” 
“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” 
Lip’s next move was a surprise to her. She was expecting him to keep yelling or stomp out of the bathroom. Instead, he placed a hand on either side of her face and crashed his lips onto hers. He was all kinds of rough and forceful, clashing teeth and lips together without any care. But somehow, (Y/N) found herself kissing back just as roughly, grabbing onto the lapel of his jacket. 
But it wasn’t until she felt the roughness of his hands on the skin of her back that she realized she had jumped out of the shower, naked and still dripping with water. She jumped away from Lip as though his touch was fire and scrambled for her towel, trying her best to cover her body from him.
“Why are you covering yourself now?” he laughed. “I already saw everything, (Y/N).”
“Fuck you, Philip.”
“I was gonna let you,” he grinned. “But it looks like you got performance anxiety. Maybe you’re not as good as guys say.” 
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m great in bed,” she argued. “But I would rather do it with someone I actually like.”
“It’s just sex, (Y/N),” he countered. “This is not to fall in love.” 
(Y/N) kept quiet for a beat, thinking over the boy’s request. His reputation for being a good lay preceded him, and she would have been lying if she said she had never thought about it. But the fact that his personality was almost revolting made her wonder if it was worth it. 
“God, you’re so fucking infuriating,” she said before doing the same thing he had done. “This means nothing. You’re just convenient.”
“Right,” he chuckled against her mouth. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Oh, shut up already.” 
“Make me.” 
Her lips did all the answering, molding to his mouth perfectly, their tongues dancing together in perfect symphony. If she had believed in fate and the alignment of the universe, she would have deluded herself into thinking that they were meant to be. 
Lip’s clothes were rough against her unclothed skin, the zippers and the fabrics scratching at her body and rubbing the most sensitive parts of her body that were exposed. Warmth pooled between her legs with the kiss alone, and her body’s reaction scared her. It was almost instantaneous, and it had been the first time it had happened. 
“It’s not fair that I’m the only one that’s naked,” she said breathlessly.
“Do you ever stop fucking talking?” 
“Not when my mouth’s unoccupied,” she snickered. “And I have a lot to say.”  
“You’re too fucking much,” he grumbled as he took off layer after layer of clothing, letting them fall to the floor. “Now come here.”
He kissed her roughly again, pressing his chest as close to her body as he could, his hands snaking to the small of her back. As their mouth moved in synch, they walked backward until her back was pressed against the wall, the coldness making her skin erupt in goosebumps. But his hands were enough to build a fire inside her. The way they mapped every inch of her body and worked in tandem with his mouth to find her most sensitive spots. 
Lip nipped at her jaw and her neck, traveling down to her collarbone as his hands tweaked the hardened peaks of her breasts. Somehow, he was able to annoy her within an inch of raging ire and could bring her to the brink of orgasm with just his mouth and hands. 
In a swift move, Lip turned (Y/N), bending her against the wall as he pulled the zipper of his pants down. The clothes pooled at his ankles as he held his cock and lined himself up with her wetness, running the head across her fold and teasing her clit. 
“For someone that is just doing this out of convenience, you’re really wet,” he chuckled darkly. “Have you been dreaming about this?” 
“I could ask the same of you, Philip,” she retorted. “Because for someone that doesn’t really care, you’re really fucking hard.” 
“I’m only just a man, (Y/N).” 
“How about you shut up and prove it already, then? Maybe…” 
(Y/N)’s words died in her throat as she felt him sink into her completely, stretching her walls like no one had done before. He took the air out of her lungs, a moan getting strangled in her throat at the suddenness. 
Lip didn’t move instantly, allowing her body to get used to the size. At least, that was what he would have said if she had asked. Truthfully, being inside her was the most overwhelming experience he had ever had. He needed a moment to compose himself before he busted too early. The last thing he needed was for (Y/N) to have more ammo against him. He enjoyed their bickering reparté, but he had quite the reputation when it came to sex, and he wouldn’t let her ruin it. Even if his body was trying to betray him. 
Once he felt he could control himself, he started moving hips, quickly setting a pace that had (Y/N) letting out a string of moans that he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life. Her hands gripped the towel bar before her, her knuckles turning white from the tightness. She met his every move, pushing against him as he pummeled into her. 
“Harder,” she meweled. “Fuck me harder, Philip.” 
Lip did exactly as told. Skin met skin at a rapid pace, filling the otherwise quiet room with pants, moans, and slaps. Even her using his full name did not put a damper on his mood, rather loved the way it sounded in her mouth. And for the first time, it didn’t sound like she was saying it with  hate. At least, not completely. 
He snaked his hand around her body, his hand finding the mound of her clit and pressing two fingers on it. They circled and rolled the bud, making her walls clench around him as he pistoned into her. He knew both of them were reaching their end. The tightening of her cunt and the tightening of his balls told him enough.
“Fuck, don’t stop, Lip. Don’t you dare fucking stop.” 
“I wasn’t planning to.” 
And he didn’t. He kept thrusting until (Y/N) let out a pleasurable yell that had him covering her mouth. As he did, she bit down on his skin unconsciously, making him moan and awakening something in him he didn’t know was dormant. It brought him right to the brink of his end, and it took everything in him to leave her warmth and explode all over her ass. 
His body slumped over hers, absentmindedly kissing the skin of her shoulder as they both came down from their orgasm. They felt comfortable in their silence, their pants synching and their bodies melting against each other. If they could have, they would have fallen asleep in that very position. 
But a knock on the door startled them apart.
“Yo, I need the bathroom,” Carl called from the other side of the door. “I’ve gotta piss real bad.” 
“Can you go downstairs, Carl?” (Y/N) asked. “I’m just finishing up in the shower.” 
“Ugh, fine! Just hurry up. There’s more people in this house, you know?” 
“Yeah, sorry!” 
After wiping themselves down, Lip and (Y/N) started getting dressed, neither meeting each other’s gaze. “We don’t speak about this to anyone,” she finally said. “Especially not Ian. And this can’t happen ever again.” 
“Sure,” he mumbled. “Whatever you say.” 
“I’m serious, Philip,” she pleaded, placing a hand on his chest to get his attention. “If Ian finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.” 
“I won’t say anything,” he laughed, looking at her in a way he never had before. “But I wouldn’t mind if this happened again.” 
“Are you serious?” 
“What? The rumors are true. You are a good lay.” 
“You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Gallagher,” she grinned before stopping at the door to exit first. “But I don’t think this will happen again.” 
“Keep telling yourself that, (Y/N).” 
“Fuck off, Philip,” she whispered from the end of the hall before disappearing into the boys’ bedroom, leaving Lip to think of just how he could make this a repeat situation.
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ashwhowrites · 23 days
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Lacy
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Ummm this will hurt. Mentions of cheating, we've got smut, and we've got heartache. The first release of the GUTS project I'm working on. I hope you like it and enjoy it!
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Lacy, oh, Lacy, skin like puff pastry Aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of Hell? Dear angel Lacy, eyes white as daisies Did I ever tell you that I'm not doin' well?
Y/N never experienced a teenage heartbreak, and she wasn't doing well. She and Eddie had been together for almost two years, but it wasn't as full of love as she wished. He used to be in love with her. He used to drive her everywhere just to spend time together. He used to bring her favorite snacks to hellfire, he used to kiss her, and he used to make love to her. When they had sex, it wasn't the same anymore. He used to be warm, and soft, and soak every part of her within his body. Now she can't help but notice he refused to look into her eyes as he sucked on her neck and thrust inside of her. Because if he looked at her, Chrissy would disappear.
"Pretty skin," Eddie whispered as he pecked her body. Y/N knew he was thinking of the white porcelain skin of Chrissy's body. He probably thought about Chrissy's bright eyes.
Eddie finished and rolled over. Not even seconds later he began to snore. Y/N tried to hold in her tears as she slipped out of bed to clean herself up. Something he used to never go to bed without doing. As she left their bedroom, she felt a knife in her back when she saw the framed photo of her and Chrissy.
Ooh, I care, I care, I care Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time Watching, hidden in plain sight Ooh, I try, I try, I try But it takes over my life, I see you everywhere The sweetest torture one could bear
Y/N tried her best to get Chrissy and Eddie out of her mind, but she couldn't. It almost hurt her more that they were so terrible at hiding it.
Y/N walked through the giant college party Chrissy threw. Eddie was already lost in the crowd and she knew if she found Chrissy, she would find him. She was proven right as she watched Eddie talking into Chrissy's ear, she laughed and smacked his arm. Their bodies leaned into each other.
When they returned home, Eddie was back to his silent self. He kicked off his shoes and headed up into bed.
~~~
Y/N hummed a song as she sorted through the dirty laundry. She emptied Eddie's pants pockets because she had learned he doesn't check. She felt a crumbled piece of paper and pulled it out. She unfolded it and felt that knife in her back again.
"Meet me tonight at the hideout at 8
-xx Chris"
Y/N slipped the paper back in the pants and threw it in the wash. She coughed away her tears as she heard Eddie's feet pounding down the hall.
"Babe?"
"Laundry room," she answered.
"Going to the hideout, don't wait up." He said, he leaned in and placed a kiss on her lips.
She eyed his attractive outfit. The rings on his hands and the smell of the cologne she bought for an anniversary. He was wearing it for Chrissy, and that stung.
"What are you staring at?" Eddie chuckled, which seemed to snap Y/N out of her mind. Y/N looked at the clock on the wall, he had thirty minutes to get to the hideout. Chrissy always wins, but maybe she can win this one time.
"Fuck me, right here and right now," Y/N said, with no emotion in her voice. Eddie was caught off guard. He went to protest or ask her a question but his mouth went dry as she stripped down.
She smiled when he yanked off his shirt and threw it on the floor. His hands on her skin as he shoved his tongue in her mouth. She felt her brain shut off, and for once felt free.
She moaned as he fucked her against the wall. Their sweaty bodies against each other's as she sucked on his neck. She left marks up and down both sides. Relieved he didn't push her away, but melted into her and whimpered.
Her hands were in his hair as she looked at his face. He made the mistake of looking up, now his eyes glued to hers. She could see his eyes changing, a flash of guilt then back to lust. He kept his eyes on hers as he leaned in and kissed her lips. It was a kiss she hadn't felt in months. It was slow and passionate. She could feel the love pouring out of his mouth into hers. The same way he used to kiss her before Chrissy.
She whined into his mouth as she came all over him, gasping as he watched her fall apart. The way he fucked into her softly, the way he smiled and kissed her all over her face. She shifted so he'd drop her legs, she found her feet and kneeled down. She wrapped her warm mouth around his cock. He moaned and held her hair, he helped her move up and down on him. His eyes were still glued to hers. He emptied down her throat, and she looked at the clock.
~
Eddie walked into the hideout with a sick feeling in his stomach. He usually felt excited to see Chriss but he wished he stayed home. He was in love with two women and didn't know what in the hell to do.
"Hey handsome, you are late." Chrissy smiled as she slid next to him in a booth.
"Sorry, was doing something." He shrugged, he kept thinking of Y/N. At this very moment, he didn't understand why he left. His cock was still sensitive from her and he craved more of her.
"Like having sex?" Chrissy scoffed, her pissed-off glare made Eddie roll his eyes.
"No, I wasn't having sex," he lied as he glared back at her.
"This says otherwise," Chrissy said as she flicked the marks on Eddie's neck.
"I thought you were going to break up with her."
"Chrissy I already told you that I don't know how." Eddie sighed, he was tired of having this conversation over and over.
"Tell her you don't love her anymore!" Chrissy screeched.
"I do love her."
Smart, sexy Lacy, I'm losin' it lately I feel your compliments like bullets on skin
"That dress is gorgeous on you!" Chrissy complimented. As a best friend, she truly meant it, as the competition she was jealous of how perfect Y/N looked.
"Thank you," Y/N said, a short response as she walked to find Eddie.
Chrissy glared as Y/N and Eddie spent the night dancing together. She hated the love shared between them and felt her heart tug every time they kissed.
She wished Eddie didn't love Y/N, or at least didn't love her more. She wished it was easy for Eddie to leave her behind.
"You are breathtaking tonight," Eddie said as he twirled her. She smiled but it felt like a blow to her chest. If she was so breathtaking, why did he breathe for another girl?
Ooh, I care, I care, I care Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach's all in knots You got the one thing that I want
It was Eddie's birthday and Y/N threw him a surprise party at their house. Eddie was delighted to be with all his friends. Y/N invited Chrissy because she didn't want them to be suspicious of what she knew.
Chrissy growled as she watched Y/N feed Eddie his birthday cake as she sat on his lap. It's been a week since she spoke to Eddie at the hideout. That was also the last time she saw him. He ghosted her out of nowhere. It was like he forgot all about her.
Y/N scanned the party and her eyes landed on Chrissy's glare. Y/N felt her stomach turn in knots. It made her sick that Chrissy had the nerve to be jealous when Eddie was hers in the first place. Y/N sent a smile and turned back to Eddie. Chrissy had the nerve to be upset like she hadn't already stolen Eddie away.
"You bake the best cakes, my dear," Eddie said as he pressed a frosting-coated kiss against Y/N's lips. She giggled and kissed back. Humming at the delicious taste.
Y/N had the one thing Chrissy wanted, Eddie's attention.
Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you
And the worst part of it all, Y/N understood why he fell in love with Chrissy. She always saw Chrissy as an angel and beautiful in every sense of the word.
She hated even after it all, she truly believed Chrissy was better. She couldn't stop Eddie from seeing what she saw all along.
The most perfect woman in the world.
Y/N hated herself for accepting it so easily. She hated that she felt like she couldn't blame Eddie for what he has done.
Because Y/N would have done it all too.
tags!
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