#neil lewis x reader
Text
Just Like the Actress - Neil Lewis x Coworker Reader
Summary: After being begged to stay after work to watch a film with the guys from gumshoe video, Neil is shocked to find out you haven’t watched porn during a drunk game of ‘never have I ever’ and is determined to change that, that very night.
Warnings: small age gap (reader is college aged, Neil is early 30’s), face riding, virginity loss, throat fucking, porn watching, Neil is selfish, he cums quick lol, begging , reader is drunk, general adult content, quite long !
Note: I’ve been so obsessed with 70’s/80’s porn music recently and I feel like Neil would be one to watch a porno with a soundtrack not to dissimilar to the vibes the songs give off so i had to add the one I’m obsessed with atm.
Sighing as you pushed the final tape into the comedy section of the shelf you had just filled with the new shipment, you picked up the empty box and headed into the storage room. Walking past Jonathan, Lucien and Neil on the couch, you rolled your eyes at their laziness as they sat there with a beer in hand watching one of the classics Jonathan was obsessing over.
Swinging his arm over the back of the couch as you passed, Lucien’s eyes followed you as you walked over and watched as you bent over to place the box down. Dusting your hands off and turning around he looks up at you and you curl your lips into a tired smile.
“Wanna stay back today and watch a film?” Bringing the can to his lips, he cocks his eyebrows up as you walk past him to the counter.
“I can’t, I need to study tonight.” You reached behind the cashier to pick your bag, swinging it over your shoulder and turning to face Lucien who now had a pout on his lips.
Tearing his eyes off the screen, Neil looked over at you and and furrowed his brows.
“Oh come on…” He groaned out his sentence as he threw his hands in the air.
Getting into your dream school here in New York was nothing more than a miracle, no matter how expensive the tuition or housing may be. Deciding to get a part-time job to keep yourself on your feet throughout your studies, you came across the shabby, indie film shop and decided it was low-key enough to not give you any more stress on top of college. You worked short hours for good pay whenever you were free throughout the week, earning a decent amount of pocket money for the lack of customers you actually had to deal with.
Oblivious to yourself, Neil only hired you as a piece of eye-candy, eroticising the thought of a much younger collage student who was financially dependent on his business. It was like the porno’s he watched, swelling countless erections in his pants as he fantasied you coming in after your shift, begging for a raise and proving him you would do anything to get it.
It started with watching the way your ass stuck out when you bent down in the agonisingly short skirts you wore, his neck pushing back as he tilted his head to get a good look and salivating at the sight of your bare thighs. Then it moved to staring at your plush tits, cock stiffening as he watched them bounce in your thin shirts as you walked through the store. Soon, it became a habit to replace the pornstars face with yours as he stroked himself, cumming on his stomach as he whined out your name wishing he was shoving himself against the back of your cunt instead.
“I have a test in a couple of days… I haven’t studied and I need to pass-“ You were interrupted by Neil standing up and walking towards you.
“Please- just one film…” He stopped in front of you and pouted his lips, clenching his jaw as his cock twitched when you gazed up innocently at him.
Sighing out, you looked over at Jonathan and Lucien who raised their beers to you, giving a hopeful smile. Looking back at Neil, you shook your head and made your way towards the door. He quickly walked besides you and rambled out a sequence of pleas to get you to stay.
“You never stay-“ He whined out in a higher octave than you’ve ever heard him speak at.
“Because I’m in college-“ Logically stating, you rolled your eyes at his lack of understanding. Turning to face him now you watched as his face scrunched as he walked faster to keep up with you, vein protruding in his neck as he breathlessly begged.
“But just one night please I’m-“ His begs were mixed in with the sound of the loud TV, close to overstimulating your senses with the noise pollution that surrounded you.
“No Neil… I have to study-“ You slowly grew annoyed at his persistence. He quickly grabbed your shoulders and forcibly turned you around to face him, stoping you sharp in your tracks just before you managed to get through the door.
“Just one film. Then you go can go back to whatever boring subject your studying.” His eyes widened and you felt the harshness of his fingertips in your arms, trying to shake free of his grasp as the pain was a sharp sting.
He took a small step towards you and you were mere inches apart, his lips and cheeks were flushed a deep red as he let go of your arms and poured his baby blue iris’s into yours. Sighing, you looked back at Jonathan and Lucien who had returned their gaze onto the TV, Neil now so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body and coating your skin.
“Please.” He whispered and you turned back to look at him, his puppy eyes glassy from the beer and tearing up, the bottom of his lip rolling under his tongue as his teeth grazed his baby pink skin.
“Fine…fine.” You nodded and put your hands up in defence. A look of relief washed over his face and his wide eyes turned soft, grabbing your shoulders again and shaking you in aggressive excitement as he lowered his knees to meet your eye level. His now pleading gaze had turned into a toothy smile, the thin dimples of the side of his cheeks showing just how happy he was that you decided to stay.
“Yes! Thank you…” He stopped shaking you and let you go once again, placing his hands on his hips as he sighed a relief with the triumphed smile stuck on his face.
Staring down at you, he felt the heat of his thumping erection from the closeness of you fill his pants, his tip leaking with the idea that you’d be staying to watch a film and giving him more time to assault your body with his eyes. Looking down at you now, he began throbbing at the thought of your eyes exactly like this but smudged black with mascara, saliva spilling out your mouth as you gagged on the base of him.
Breaking away, he snapped his head to the guys and remained smiling through his breaths.
“Jonathan- we need more drinks!” He screamed over to the couch, Jonathan snapping his attention to you and giving you a toothy smile before standing up and vanishing out the door.
————————
“So, how’s you like the film?” Lucien slurs his words as his hand raises and his finger points at you, swaying in small circles with his drink in hand.
“Shit.” You said bluntly, Jonathan coughing up his drink and Neil snapping his head to look at you with his mouth open in shock and his brows furrowed.
“What? Shit- that’s one of the most influential-“ Neil starts to raise his voice but is soon interrupted by Lucien shushing him.
“I’ve had to much to drink to hear about it Neil, please.” He rubs his forehead and placed his elbow onto the arm of the chair. Neil huffs out in shock and holds both hands out towards you with a look of disbelief on his face, looking at Jonathan for backup who just sits there and shrugs his shoulders.
You sat on the sofa facing the TV next to Lucien, Neil and Jonathan sat on the other one facing outwards towards the door next to you. The cheap bottle of vodka Jonathan had bought was almost too perfectly on brand with college students, considering these guys were around twelve years older than you. It sat half drank on the table in front of you and the cup almost finished in your hand.
The heat from the liquid had caused an internal burn on your cheeks, eventually spreading to your chest and causing a pink to spread across your skin. You were feverish and giggly, starting to see double of the TV screen and having to close one eye to focus on whoever was talking to you.
You weren’t the only one, Jonathan stumbled and found it impossible to stand up straight when taking the finished tape out of the player, Lucien half asleep next to you and Neil who was equally as red with a glued arrogant smirk on his face.
With the liquor hitting his lips he found you increasingly arousing, if that was even possible. About halfway through the film his eyes left the TV screen to look at you and never turned back. His breath quickening and his heart pounding as he watched you sit on the sofa oblivious to the fact that your short skirt was revealing the crotch of your white, cotton panties. He imagined himself on his knees, nose pressed to your covered mound as he inhaled your scent with your legs open submissively.
Each time you shifted your arm onto the sofa your tits would ever so slightly spill out the V on your shirt and his cock began spilling tears out his tip. He watched them squish together with each movement, lowly groaning as he pictured them holding his cock so well as he thrusted in between them. Furrowing his brows and biting cuts into the bottom of his lip as he watched you twirl your hair with your finger, he wanted nothing more but to grab your scalp while fucking your tight, wet pussy over the stores sofa and having your residue stick to the fabric.
“Let’s play a game!” Lucien perked up at Jonathans idea and hummed in agreement, Neil finally peeling his eyes off your exposed skin and taking another sip of his drink.
“Never have I ever… but dirty.” He smiled like a schoolboy who’s seen tits for the first time, Lucien spurring out a string of excited agreement.
“Shot if you have… no shot if you have not.” He lent over the table and grabbed the bottle, standing up to pour everyone a poorly estimated ounce and a half of vodka.
Your stomach flipped and you felt your heart beating in your ears. You weren’t a prude by any sorts, spending most nights touching yourself till you came to relieve the stress of college and kissing a couple boys at parties and such. You’d just never experienced anything physically with anyone else yet, not even exploring porn by yourself because watching other people fuck was unknown territory for you. Sexuality didn’t scare you but it never caught your attention either, feeling the pressure at an all time high now you were in college with horny men who only thought with their dicks.
Sitting back down, Jonathan looked at you and smiled before asking the first question.
“Never have I ever…” He trailed off, looking out into the distance “had sex in public.”
Only Jonathan himself and Neil took the shot, wincing their faces and gagging at the dry alcohol hitting their throat. Placing their cups down before high fiving each other, Neil looked up at you as one side of his lips curled and his eyebrows cocked up.
“Huh…” He whispered in his huff. You felt the redness of your cheeks spread like wildfire and looked down at your lap, twiddling your thumbs feeling embarrassed at your lack of shot.
“And I know allllllll about it.” Lucien chuckled before Jonathan screamed an extended, frat like ‘yeah’ and stood up to high five him too.
“Right… who’s next?” Lucien cleared his throat and raised his hand slightly.
“You know… it’s getting late, I should go home.” The words slowly purred out your mouth, feeling a sudden sense of awkwardness that not only were you the only girl playing this, you were playing it with thirty plus year old men.
“No!” Neil screamed almost too quickly, all three of the guys turning to look at you in disappointment.
“Noooo… not yet! It’s only just getting fun!” Lucien wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to him, holding you close as he started to ask the next question.
“Never have I ever… hooked up with my friends sibling.” Lucien excitedly took his shot and raised his empty glass, so drunk he had no physical response to the alcohol he had just consumed.
Finally letting you go, he lent forward and swiftly filled up his cup, looking around to see everyone else to see if they needed a refill.
“That’s hot.” Neil said, chucking like a schoolboy and rubbing his palms on his thighs.
“Okay, uhm…” Neil looked up and glanced at you. He wanted to ask something that he wanted to know about you, personally.
How much of a whore are you?
He hummed a little longer as his eyes fell all over your body, a sense of vulnerability panging your chest as he started undressing you with his gaze very obviously.
“Never have I ever, taken nude pictures.” The guys all laughed immaturely. “Or… videos.” All of them now nodding and hyping each other up.
One by one the liquids in their cups vanished down their throats and the intense feeling of being left out hit you again.
Oh fuck it. You thought.
The sting of the drink immediately hit your tonsil, your eyes squinting as you swallowed it resisting the antiseptic breath out your nose. Looking at you cringing as the after affects of the drink still heated up the inside of your chest, Neil licked his lips and gulped down, shifting his hips upwards as he widened his knees to bring less attention to the tent in his pants. Ignoring the pulse in his jeans imagining you holding your shirt to your chin, pushing your tits together towards the camera as you posed like a desperate whore, he cleared his throat and grabbed the bottle to fill up everyone’s now empty cup.
“Your turn sweetheart.” Neil barely spoke above a whisper and he slowly poured the transparent regret into your cup. His eyes looked up and met yours, the nickname surprisingly causing another wave of heat to rush over you. Blinking at him rapidly, your bottom lip trembled slightly and your brows knitted together.
“Um…” You thought around the room, unsure what to say. “Never have I ever… masturbated.”
The boys stopped breathing for a second before bursting out laughing, a sense of embarrassment rushed over you and you felt like being sucked up by the floor. Nonetheless, all of them took the shot, you included, and all made noises in reaction to the electric taste of the drink.
“You’re gonna have’s to do- try harder than that.” Lucien lent over and tapped your thigh with his palm.
The alcohol was completely distorting you now, looking over at Neils displeased face with Luciens actions, he was spinning in full circles. As if you were looking out a kaleidoscope, your back dented further into the couch and you weakly raised your hand to rub your face.
“Alright there?” Neil raised his brows as he looked at you with those wide eyes. All you could do was hum in response as the noise started to blur around you and the feeling of your heart beating was the only comfort in the bright lights of the shop.
“Okay… I got one you’ll like princess.” Lucien turned away from you and faced the guys. “Never have I ever, watched porn.” All of the guys started laughing hysterically now, making fun of you for the innocence of your last question.
You watched as all the guys took the shots, noticing how easily the liquid poured down their throat now that they were drunk. Coughing, Neil looked at you as you sat up properly again, swaying in your seat with a satisfied grin on your face knowing you didn’t have to take another shot.
“What?” The sharpness in Neils tone snapped you out of your daze, slowly tilting your head at him and squinting to try and see him straight.
“You’ve never watched porn?” His mouth was open and his face was stunned, genuinely in misbelief that you’d never watched it before. Both the other guys gasped as well, snapping their neck at you waiting for your response.
“Never. Ever. Never.” You raised your hand and wagged your finger with each word, giggling at yourself and placing the cup down. “‘N’more please.”
“Are you being serious?” Lucien whispered in almost disgust. “Never?”
“Ugh…” Your neck rolled as your eyes rolled with it. “No!” You pushed Luciens shoulder as you bounced off the shove.
The shop filled with silence for a while, the guys sharing looks of whatever expression you couldn’t care to understand in this moment before falling back onto the couch again. Humming and giggling quietly to yourself, Jonathan stood up and notioned for Lucien to follow him.
“We’ll go to the Chinese… get food.” He was swaying as he put his coat on, Lucien barely being able to stand up in himself.
“All too… too drunk.” He lifted his chin and pointed at Neil. “Take care of her… kay?” Neil nodded before Jonathan and Lucien stumbled out of the shop to the corner Chinese shop to pick up boxes of drunk food to sober everyone up.
Shifting up to sit properly on the couch once more, you brought your knees to your chest and glanced over at Neil who was already gazing at you in a dazed way. His fingers ran across his fallen bottom lip as his eyes slowly fell from your lips to the slight gap in between your legs that stayed exposing your panties to him.
Standing up and stumbling on the way over, he plopped himself next to you on the couch and stretched his arm over to the back of the couch behind you. Sighing as his eyes scanned your face and proximity of you, you looked up at him and gave him a boop on his nose with your finger. Giving a small chuckle, his cock had already started to harden at the closeness of the pair of you.
“You’ve never watched pornography?” He whispered, feeling his hot breath on your face and inhaling the smell of vodka. His brows raised in curiosity and a smirk grew on his face as the question fell from his lips.
“Nooo… not yet.” You shifted your knees that were linked in your arms towards him now, leaning your head on his forearm that was still up at the back of you.
Batting your eyelashes up at him, he groaned and lulled his head back at the sight of your flushed cheeks and swollen eyes, wanting to face fuck you so hard you’d lose your voice for the days to come. Anything to see those pretty eyes of yours squint as your throat closes around him.
“D’you want to?” He snapped his head up before asking, a look of confusion on your face. A sense of excitement filled his voice that wasn’t previously there.
You shook your head slowly trying to figure out if he was being serious or not.
“You know… we do have a large collection of pornography at the shop.” He pouted at you.
You shook your head faster and covered your mouth while giggling.
“No Neil… I-“ You began smiling through your words.
“Just one video.” Interrupting you, he nodded in encouragement. Furrowing your brows you pushed your neck back and sat up.
“That’s… no I don’t-“
“Come on. Just one.” His eyes remained on yours, the same puppy dog look he had earlier. Only this time, his head swayed slowly as he tried to focus on yours.
“I don’t… feel comfortable doing that.” You said under your breath, the smile dropping from your face as your heart rate became rapid under your chest.
“It’s okay… you’ll like it.” He dropped his arm from the couch back and wrapped it around your shoulder.
“No I-“ You glanced down at where his landed, feeling the prickly heat of his touch over your arm.
“Please.” He whined. Snapping your eyes to look up at him again, you had to admit to yourself you were curious.
“Just one video…” His thumb slowly started stroking small circles on you as he whispered his pleas. “Please.”
Blinking harshly to try and stop seeing double of him, your blurred hearing was filled with strings of slurry pleas and begs, being unable to focus on anything but how fast everything was spinning and the violent beating in your chest.
“I promise- just one. If you don’t like it-“ You were tired of his voice, having it filled the quietness of the empty story as his finger progressively rubbed faster around your arm.
“Okay…” You whispered under your breath.
“Huh? What was that?” He pulled you closer and ducked his head lower to meet your eyes.
“Okay.” You said louder this time. A small smile grew on your face as you felt slightly excited, curious to see what porn was all about and why Neil seemed to be so obsessed with it.
Standing up quickly while losing balance countless times on the way to the pornography isle, he spent a few minutes saying ‘no’ under his breath and sighing before a loud ‘ah!’ was heard and he came round the corner. Not letting you see the cover of the tape, he ducked onto his knees and pressed the tape into the player with his digit.
Rushing back as fast as he could to sit next to you, the weight of him landing on the cushion next to you shook you as you kept your eyes peeled to the screen.
“This one…” He turned to look at you as you brought your knees to your chest again, looking over your shoulder into his eyes. “Is my favourite.” He smiled and nodded towards the screen.
A girl, who seemed quite young in your eyes, was sat at a school desk with a belt thin plaid skirt and a see through short white blouse that ended at her ribs. She held the end of a pencil in between her teeth as she twirled one of her pigtails around her finger and seemingly pondered into the distance.
Shifting next to you, you look over at Neil who’s face was already red and twitching his hips uncomfortably. He glances at you without moving his head and grabs your chin, forcing your face to the front. Still feeling his heat so close to you, a sense of awkwardness in your chest took over your ability to move and you were frozen, staring at the scene unfold on the screen.
A man in a suit, presumingly this young girls teacher, makes his way over to her desk and pulls her chair out. Glaring down at the girl while gripping her cheeks in his hand, his crotch becomes evidently swollen as he shoves his clothed erection into her face. Gasping at his aggressiveness, you turn to face Neil, once more who’s eyebrow has cocked up and mouth has fallen only ajar. Looking back onto the screen, you watch as the man unzips his pants to free his large, throbbing cock in her face. Gasping even louder at this point, you cover your eyes and turn away.
“What’s the matter? Never seen a cock before?” Neil asks sarcastically, chucking at your reaction.
“Nuh-uh.” You say, shaking your head.
“Oh come on… you’ve never seen one before?” His voice sounding irritated.
You loosen the grip on your eyes slowly and look at him through a small gap in your fingers.
“Never.” His mouth falls all the way open now, staring at you in disbelief.
“Are you… are you a virgin?” He whispers the last word, treating it at almost a swear.
You nod your head slowly and his mouth is now on the floor, his eyebrows are knitted together and he sits up. Looking into your eyes, he wanted to devour you right then and there. His cock was now beating in this pants, a hot string of precum leaking down the top of this thigh and his shaft throbbing to be stroked.
“Oh my god…” He whined out.
Slowly turning your attention away from the stunned look on his face, you peak over at the TV and wince at the girl’s mouth being aggressively fucked. You heard the squelching and gagging noises, cringing as her eyes squinted with a mixture of tears and saliva pouring down her face. You felt as Neil fell back into the couch, watching as his knees widened next to you and a small groan left his lips.
“You ever seen a boner?” He placed his hand around the back of you again, sneaking into the small gap between your ass and the couch.
Looking over at him, closing one eye to focus on his face, you shake your head shamefully and look down. Keeping your eyes on his thighs, you watched as his palm raised and hesitantly made it’s way to his crotch. His palm started to slowly rub on his already swollen cock and he sighed out in relief to the pressure.
Widening your eyes, you rapidly blinked as you stared at him palming himself, his hand pressing hard and small, desperate whimpers falling from his lips.
“Would you like to?” He puffs out as his pace fastened on his clothed erection.
You felt a pool of heat build in your panties at his question, your walls clenching around nothing and the air leaving your lungs. After watching him press harder into his crotch for a couple of seconds, your eyes pull up to stare into his. His lips were slightly parted but wet and swollen, a flush of pink that spread to his cheeks and bottom of his eyes. His gaze was slightly squinted and his eyes looked teary, noticing how his eyebrows would twitch simultaneously with each quiet whine that fell off his lips.
You nodded your head and much too quickly, he unzipped his jeans and raised his hips. Hooking his fingers into the top of his jeans, he pushed them fast to his thighs and laid back just as fast as he got up. Sighing out as his back hit the soft cushion, he tilted his head as his palm quickly attacked the bottom of his throbbing cock.
Staring in awe at the size of him, your mouth started to salivate at the risen fabric and a small moan left your lips as his palm pressed down on the tent once more.
“Do you… do you wanna- ugh, touch?” A grunt interrupted him, gulping down the ball in his throat.
Hesitantly, you raised your hand and kept it in the air for a few seconds, unsure of what to do.
“Please.” He grabbed your wrist and pressed your hand onto his erection, twitching his face in discomfort and arching his back at the contact of your hand on him.
Slowly pressing your palm onto him, you tried to imitate how he was doing it earlier. Pushing your hand harder onto himself, he let you go and started heavy breathing to your soft presses. You felt his clothed cock from the tip to his balls, pushing harder with each stroke as you felt him twitch in your hand.
“Oh- yeah… yeah like that.” His head was lulling and his eyes were squinting, slightly opening them to stare down at how you were touching him. His mouth stayed slightly opened as an exit for his whines, his wet lips drying up as his brows stayed knitted together.
Grabbing the back of your neck as his dazed eyes met yours, he pulled you to him and latched his lips onto yours. Slowly pushing and massaging into plush, pink flesh his tongue skilfully and softly pet yours, licking you fast before pulling back into his own mouth once more. Tracing your bottom lip with his muscle, he sighed deeply as he pressed you harder into his mouth, keeping his open as he moaned into yours at your fastening touch on his cock.
Pulling you back by your scalp, he kept you inches away from his face as he began panting. Your pussy leaked at the sight of him, grasping you hard as his mouth was hot and wet, jaw open and eyes building up sockets of tears at the pleasure you were giving him.
“Want you- need you to suck.” He moaned out pathetically as you touched him through his words.
A look of confusion plastered onto your face, his eyes glancing to the TV as his fists grabbed your hair tighter and spun your head to the screen. Once more, you were met with the actress gagging on the mans cock, barely breathing and sobbing at the pain of the lack of oxygen.
“Just like that…” He groaned out lowly. “Just like the actress.” Loosening his grip on your head, he let you reposition yourself onto your stomach.
Keeping your eyes on the screen, you grabbed the base of Neils dick cluelessly and watched what the actress was doing. In all honesty, she wasn’t doing anything other than taking the mans cock like a whore as he thrusted himself into her throat. Still unsure and insecure on your actions, your lips wrapped around Neils angry, red, leaking tip. The slightly salty taste made yourfurrow your brows, unaware that the substance could even have a taste.
“Fuck- suck my cock.” Neil’s fist found it’s way to your hair once more, holding you harshly in place.
You sucked around his tip, eyes still on the screen as you copied the act of moving your lips along his shaft. Moving delicately and slowly, he grunted and rolled his head back. Slowly starting to move his hips for more friction, twitching upwards and forcibly putting more of him in your mouth, you tensed up at the feeling of his large cock slowly making it’s way further into your mouth.
“Just… just relax.” He breathed out. Listening to what he said, you relaxed your mouth and suddenly his thrusts became a lot smoother as he slowly pressed your face simultaneously into him and his hips twitched up. Feeling your throat salivate as his tip finally hit the back of your throat, he let out a loud moan and held your face in place as he began to fuck your mouth faster.
“Oh fuck-fuck yes, yes stay there.” His voice was loud and high, his eyebrows furrowed into one as a hot tear rolled out the corner of his eye as he watched you begin to gag around him.
Thrusting his hips up higher and harshly now, his knees started to wobble as he whimpered in the same rhythm that his cock twitched. Feeling your eyes swell and yourself begin to moan at the lack of air you were receiving, you grabbed the base of his cock roughly and his head shot back in response. He groaned loudly at your rough contact and you felt his cock twitch violently in your mouth.
Using all of his strength to not continue to face fuck you till he came and covered your throat in his cum, he slowed down his pace as his breathing regulated and tightened the grasp on your hair before pulling you off completely.
Looking up at him with smudged mascara, droll falling down your chin you couldn’t help but smile at the look of lust on his face. His hair had fallen in front of his eyes and they stayed squinted, his pink cheeks now wet with tears and a low whine leaving his plumped mouth as he saw the corners of yours turn.
“So pretty.” He whispered, letting your hair go and sitting up. He pat your wet face and slapping noises softly bounced off your cheek.
Quickly undressing himself and throwing his clothes into a pool on the floor, he stayed standing over you with his cock intimidating your face. He reached down and pulled your shirt off, groaning at the sight of your bare tits and your erect nipples bouncing in the cold air.
“No bra?” He smirked, chucking as he glared down at you.
You shook your head no and covered your tits, feeling exposed under his sight in a way you’d never been before.
“Take your skirt and panties off.” He weakly demanded, lips trembling into a smirk as he stayed standing over you as you did so. His dick bounced as it twitched at the sight of your naked body, something he’d been craving to fuck since you first started working there.
Sitting completely naked in front of him, he made his way onto the sofa and laid down horizontally, pulling you on top of him. Laying bare on him he twisted his fingers through your scalp, gently placing wet kisses on your lips as he softly moved his hands down to your ass. Roughly grabbing your asscheeks and pushing your naked body harshly onto his, he groaned as the slight shove caused friction on his desperate cock. Whimpering as his hands had spread you wide, your body shoved forward and you whined your pain into his mouth. Pulling his head back, he looked at you with a dark lust in his eyes as he cupped your face.
“Sit up- sit on me.” His voice trembled out, never breaking eye contact with you as the words fell from his lips.
Doing as you were told, you sat up and felt your warm, wet pussy sit down on the backside of his shaft. Looking at where the pair of you connected, he grabbed the sides of his hips harshly and whimpered at the slight rock you did on top of him, your wetness allowing you to hump him easily with soft movements.
“Come… come up.” He pulled your hips forward and you furrowed your brows confused. He sighed out and rolled his eyes, that familiar blush creeping onto his face as he looked back at you.
“Sit on my face…” He said quietly. “Please?” Your heart skipped a beat and a wave of insecurity washed over you, never even imagining doing such a thing before.
“Please just… sit on my lips.” He pushed his lips forward as his eyebrows twitched with nervousness. His grip grasped tighter on your hips and you could tell he was getting impatient.
Shifting yourself forward, you lower your hips onto his face and look down as his blue eyes looked up at you with desire. Letting go of your hips, he spread your pussy and placed his hot, open mouth onto your mound. His tongue was flat and slowly licked from your entrance to your clit, tensing on your soft spot and circling the tip of his muscle. You twitched your hips uncontrollably as his tongue moved faster, slurping noises filling the room and snapping your head back in pleasure. Loud moans and whimpers fell from your lips as your hips started to circle on his face, fucking his tongue faster than he could move it.
“Oh fuck.” You moaned, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut. You’d never felt anything like this before, uncontrollable pleasure rushing over you.
His harsh grip left your hips and snaked around your tits, grabbing roughly at your flesh and pinching your hard nipples. A whine of pain left your lips and your head twitched at the sensation.
“Oh my- oh my god…” Your cunt was rubbing along his lips as fast as you could move them, desperately chasing something that you weren’t sure of.
His tongue had slivered into your hole, darting in and out in unison with the grabs of your tits, your hips rocking desperately as a warm knot began to build in your stomach.
Looking down at him, a tear had formed in your eye and you started to shake, even with you sitting down your knees were trembling beneath you. His eyes were also furrowed as he seemed to be in great focus, using his tongue skilfully against your dripping cunt.
Aware of what was about to happen, Neil’s hands grabbed your hips strongly to keep you in place, his mouth sucking at your pussy and fucking you with his tongue faster and rougher than before. Moaning against your mound, you started to shake violently underneath him as a white noise buzzed through your skull and a string of incomprehensible swear words and moans fell from your lips.
Slowing down the rock of your hips, he moaned and pulled his mouth off your cunt. Looking down at him, a transparent ooze had spread across his face. Staring at you with an arrogant, proud smirk, he kissed your slit once more and groaned as he massaged your hips.
“What… what was that?” You said innocently, his cock dripping with pre-cum at the sight of you so weak on top of him.
“You came… on my face” He smiled at you, giving you one last peck on your cunt before pushing you off his face.
He sat upright on the couch, shifting you onto his lap as his back laid into the cushion and he lifted his hips to get comfortable. Grabbing at your hips harshly once more, he started rocking your dripping lips against the back of his shaft.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck this cunt?” He blatantly says, moving you in unison to his words.
You shake your head no and a small whine leaves your lips, his cock twitching upwards along your slit with your noise.
“So fucking long baby…” He says lowly, staring down at you humping his cock. Lifting you slightly higher, he grabs his base and drags his tip along your hole, collecting your arousal and wetting the rest of his cock. Sighing at the feeling of you, he held one hand strongly against your hip as he pressed slowly into you.
Feeling the small breach of his tip, you whined out and his mouth fell open. His eyes squinted and his breathing began to speed up.
“Sh,sh,sh.” He breathed out, removing his hand from the bottom of himself as his tip began pushing into you.
Grabbing both your hips once more, he started to push upwards and his head fell back and his eyes squeezed shut.
“Ah… fuck.” He winced as he stopped moving, giving you time to adjust. Your legs began to shake at the stretch of him around your walls, your muscles clenching around the small inch of him inside of you. The foreign feeling already had you feeling filled, your pussy warm with a slight sting as his cock was larger than anything you’d put inside of you.
After a few seconds, he pulled your hips into his crotch as he pushed his hips up, forcing the whole of his cock into your cunt and stretching you without warning. Sobbing out at the intrusion, his cock had now completely filled you, feeling his warm tip in your stomach.
Whimpering loudly, his grasp stayed tight on your hips and he quickly pulled out and lifted you up off of him.
“So fucking…” He said breathlessly “tight!” He moaned loudly as he thrusted himself fully into you again.
Your head fell back in pain with him repeating this action over and over again. Slowly, your cunt stretched to his size and mixed with your wetness, his cock started fucking you roughly as quickly as he selfishly began chasing his high.
“Fuck-fuck, fuck! Yes… yes just like that.” His cock hit the back of your walls with each thrust, he sobbed out the words and began crying while he fucked you mercilessly. He’d occasionally look up at the way his cock was splitting you into two, a tear rolling down his cheek as his balls bounced on your ass and a loud slap noise vibrated off your skin with each stroke.
Crying out in pleasure, you were a moaning mess and became weak under his thrust. Fucking you faster and harshly, you felt him twitch inside of you as he cried out in pleasure.
“I’m so close… so-so close.” He whimpered, his thrusts getting sloppier and messier as his pace became erratic.
Suddenly, you felt a warm string shoot up inside of you, coating your walls as you clenched rhythmically around his cumming cock. Leaving dents into the side of your hips, his hands stayed aggressively holding onto you as he felt his balls tense up, emptying themselves completely into the back of you. A sequence of praises, cries and whimpers left his lips, watching as his body shook uncontrollably under you and vibrating from your walls.
Letting you go as you subconsciously started to slowly rock once more, he sighed out and finally opened his eyes, his eyelashes dark and wet as his gaze remained pussy drunk on your face. Looking at you, he cupped your cheeks and pulled you in, slowly placing wet kisses around your face as his softening cock stayed inside of you.
Pulling yourself off of him after you had both caught your breath, you flopped back onto the couch. Suddenly, you were a lot more sober and worn out, a tearing pain seeping from your hole as you curled on the couch.
Breathlessly, he looked over at you and glanced at your red, swollen pussy that leaked his cum onto the sofa. Chuckling, he grabbed an ass cheek and pulled you apart further.
“You’re going to stay to watch movies after work now?” He whispered, a smirk growing on his face.
You looked up and him and hummed, smiling as you nodded. Slapping your ass, he stood up and grabbed your clothes.
“Get dressed. They’ll be back soon.”
#Spotify#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian smut#jonathan crane#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x reader#oppenheimer#smut#cillian murphy drabble#neil lewis#watching the detectives#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis smut#neil lewis x y/n#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy x y/n
148 notes
·
View notes
Note
Any Cillian character and helping you study for exams, mine are over in two weeks but the pressure is getting to me!!
Thanks lovely 🩷
Good luck with your exams 💕✨
Fluff!
Stress was running you into the ground. Every word you read became a blur and everything around you put you closer to the edge because your brain was just so full of content you needed for your final exams.
“You’re studying way too hard, relax a little.” Neil walked past you as you sat on his couch.
“I can’t relax! These exams are important.” You argued back looking for your paper that you had just wrote your notes on. Neil pinched the bridge of his nose while letting a deep breath out. It’s not that he didn’t support you, he was just worried about the fact you’re beyond stressed out with your final exams. He walked up to you and closed your book before yanking you up onto your feet.
“Neil!” You went to protest him before he placed his finger on your lips.
“Not another word.” He removed his finger and sat down on the couch before pulling you onto his lap making you face him. “I know your exams are important but so are you!” He held your face in his hands while rubbing circles with his thumbs on your cheeks. “I’m going to help you before you explode from stress overload.” His words were soft. You sighed softly into his touch. Your hands rested on his shoulders before he leaned in and slowly pressed his lips against yours. Your lips moved in sync together taking the time to really feel each other.
“Tell you what we’ll do…” Neil started to say between kisses. “I’ll help you study.” His eyes looked up into yours. Your head tilted to the side as he reached over you to grab your pages of notes. “For every question you get right I’ll give you a kiss, anywhere you’d like! But!…” he raised his finger at you and furrowed his eyebrows “for every question you get wrong, you get a spanking.” You wanted to protest that because Neil knows you like spankings and using them as a punishment wouldn’t be best, but on the other hand you couldn’t deny them either.
“That’s actually a good idea Neil.” You smiled at him.
“Well, I am more than just a pretty face baby.” He chuckled making you giggle before stealing another kiss. Neil smiled against your lips before holding up the paper and running his hand over your cheek. “Now that’s see what that pretty little brain of yours knows.”
#neil lewis fluff#Neil Lewis#watching the detectives#Cillian Murphy#cillian murphy drabble#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis watching the detectives#Neil Lewis Drabble#Neil Lewis blurb
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part two) | neil lewis x reader
read part 1 first!!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you've been best friends with neil basically your entire life, and secretly in love with him almost as long. now, you have to wonder if it's time to move on... or if that's even possible.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k
𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut, angst, pining/unrequited love - 18+ only
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | hangovers, jealousy/mega angst, smut (finally; unprotected sex, bondage mention, crying during sex/slight dacryphilia) and fluff/emotions
You were draped over the couch limply, groaning as you held a frozen bag of peas to your head��� and used it to cover your eyes, because everything was just too fucking bright.
“You look like one of those weed commercials,” Jonathan informed you with a frown. “Like, the one with the deflated girl.”
“Those aren’t commercials for weed, dumbass,” Lucien snarked. “They’re PSAs.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Jonathan shrugged, “I only watch TV when I’m stoned.”
“How are you even alive right now?” you asked Jonathan with a whine. “Like, how are you doing anything more than this? ‘Cause I’m just doing this and I think I’m dying.”
“The secret is not being a lightweight,” Jonathan explained.
“Don’t listen to him,” Neil warned, “his liver’s like a rotten egg. You should be proud to be a lightweight— actually, I’m still not sure why you got so wrecked last night.”
“You’re just jealous you weren’t invited,” Jonathan quipped, and you were too busy keeping your eyes shut to see if Neil actually reacted to that.
“Are you actually planning to do any work today?” Lucien wondered. “Or are you getting paid to lay around complaining?”
“Are you getting paid to be so bitchy?” you shot back. “Just make it my paid sick leave.”
“Sick, yes; paid, yes,” Jonathan noticed, “but you didn’t actually leave.”
“If she wants to spend her sick day here, she can,” Neil decided, “it’s not like she’s contagious.”
“She might be, if she talks you all into coming out again tonight,” Jonathan laughed, but you barely let him finish.
“No fucking way,” you interjected instantly, “I’m never drinking again.”
“But the best cure for a hangover is liquor!” Jonathan insisted.
“That’s the most alcoholic advice I’ve ever heard you give,” Lucien scolded. “Next you’ll say you should drink in the mornings to perk up.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Neil decided.
“See!” Jonathan yelped triumphantly.
“No, not booze— kid, you want me to get you a coffee or something?” Neil offered instead. You could tell he’d stepped a little closer from the sound of his voice— and he was speaking a little softer, too. You hesitantly peeled the bag off your head— just partially, that is— and squinted one eye open; thankfully, his head was blocking most of the overhead light as he looked down at you. “There’s that place on the corner, I could just run and get it real quick—”
“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “but thanks.”
“Not even a hot chocolate?”
You already felt warm inside from him saying that, no hot beverage required. You shook your head and he shrugged as he walked away. “Just let me know, okay?”
“Okay,” you hummed. You liked this, actually— him taking care of you. It wasn’t the first time of course, you’d gotten sick your fair share of times while knowing him and he’d usually come over and help how he could (which was mostly in the form of takeout soup and entertainment). But now you imagined it a little… cozier: him wrapping you up in a blanket and then in his arms, checking your temperature by putting his hand to your forehead, letting you drift to sleep on him while he read to you or something.
You probably could’ve dozed off as you imagined that little fantasy world, if it weren’t for Neil breaking the silence a minute later. “You know, I was thinking about changing things up a bit,” he said suddenly.
“Please, please, do not try to grow a goatee again,” Lucien begged. As you and Jonathan erupted in a chorus of disgusted agreement, Neil spoke over you all.
“I meant the store!” he promised. “The shelves— and maybe some of the posters, I don’t know.”
“Or you can finally take my idea and start renting porn,” Jonathan offered.
“First of all,” Neil explained, “technically, some of our inventory is considered erotic—”
“No no, not your weirdo French experimental softcore— the good stuff: college babes, horny stepmoms…” Jonathan began to list.
“And second of all,” Neil continued, but Jonathan was still going.
“Norwegian twins coming to America for a foreign exchange program—”
“Norwegian twins?” you repeated with a confused grimace.
“And second of all,” Neil began again, louder and with a scowl on his face, “we don’t have any good way to disinfect the tapes after people return them.”
“That’s a very good point,” Lucien noticed.
Much later in the day— after a few customers had come and gone, and Jonathan had left for the day, and the UPS guy had come by with a delivery of some new (old) movies to add to the store’s inventory— it ended up with you and Neil in his office.
You hadn’t tried to be in the same office at the same time, really… if anything, you were kind of avoiding him at the moment. Not that you could actually avoid your boss while at work in such a small place— even if he wasn’t your best friend— but you’d been dodging the elephant in the room this whole time.
He sat at his desk and leaned back in the chair, putting one foot up against the desk to tilt back even further as he looked through the stack of mail. For a minute, there was just silence, aside from you both just working. Of course, it couldn’t last forever.
“You, uh, told me you were going back to yours last night,” Neil noticed as he sorted through the envelopes— you figured it was a matter of time before he mentioned it, unless he had a serious lapse of memory, but you still winced.
“Yeah, um, sorry, I just—”
“No, it’s fine,” he shrugged, not looking up from the mail, “you didn’t have to take me out with you— I was pretty beat anyways, I just… I’m just not sure why you didn’t tell me?”
“I— I was going home, really,” you explained, “I got there and I couldn’t sleep, and wine always makes me tired but I didn’t have any so—”
“So you did whiskey shots with Jonathan?”
God, you almost thought about saying it, even if it wasn’t true, just to piss him off. Yeah— and we went back to his place and did the horizontal tango. Would you like me to bring you the register?
Instead, you cleared your throat and set down the tapes. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you told him; he looked up at you with a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look.
“I-I know,” he stammered out, “sorry, I was just… I’m curious, that’s all.”
“Well, maybe what Jonathan and I do is none of your business,” you replied, looking back down at the tapes as you fought down a smirk; you could feel his stare piercing through you, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of meeting your gaze. Is that cryptic enough for you? Maybe I should say something about how I don’t kiss and tell.
You almost hoped he’d go in for the kill— make some shitty comment about how you were a slut or how Jonathan was probably thinking about Norwegian twins the whole time— cause if he did, you could yell at him and you’d both get all worked up and maybe at least one of you would finally get out of control enough to say what you were really thinking. Instead, he got sweet again; and that was even worse, because you couldn’t resist it. “Wanna make cookies tonight?” he asked, randomly, softly.
“Yeah,” you smiled, “can we put potato chips in them?”
“You know, kid, I think you’re sort of an evil mastermind,” he grinned.
“Just a creative glutton,” you shrugged.
~
With the Jonathan thing behind you— if that was even really a thing— things felt back to normal with Neil. Honestly, they might have been even better than they’d been in a while, since he wasn’t with Denise anymore. Denise had never been jealous of you— she was just as confident as you were that you weren’t any kind of threat whatsoever— but she did whine about Neil spending more time with you than her… that is, when she actually wanted to be around Neil, which wasn’t always. Sometimes, she seemed to appreciate you taking him off her hands, giving him an outlet for all the interests she found irritating.
But, anyways, she was gone, and you were giving up on dating (again), and Neil wasn’t being weird and you guys made cookies and it was great. It was easy to remember how you'd survived in this cycle for so long. Because as much as you were probably not the world's best person, you absolutely were not pretending to be Neil's friend because you had a crush— no, he really was the most important person to you, you just also wanted to touch him in all those ways that friends weren't supposed to.
You were almost giddy, high on how good it was to be back to your usual; the night before had been just perfect, like the old times, like high school— in all the best ways.
You'd probably seen him every day for the past two weeks— either at work, at his place or yours— and you had no plans to stop. That was pretty normal for you two anyways. You had the day off from work so you hadn't seen him yet; yes, you had considered stopping by the store anyways since Jonathan came in when he wasn't working, but you'd been too busy with your own errands and catching up on tasks at home.
Figuring it was a matter of time before Neil called you and asked to come over— or just showed up— you gave him a call around nine (knowing the store had just closed) and felt yourself get even just a little more energized when he answered.
"Hey, kid," his voice came from the other end, low and dreamy. He was speaking softly, like it was a secret conversation, and that just made your heart beat a little faster.
“I think I’ve found the perfect movie to go with the last of the leftover cookies,” you grinned. “I was going through my old tapes and— do you remember that weird Italian movie we watched in high school? I think it must’ve been senior year because I remember we watched it while everyone was doing skip day— and we thought it was the funniest thing we’d ever seen— and I found it again! Maybe it’s not as good as I remember, but I’ll bring it over and we can cover up the subtitles and see if we can guess what the hell they’re talking about.”
“Yeah, actually—”
“Oh! Also, is it cool if I crash at yours after? I’ll bring my own pajamas this time— and toothbrush, sorry about having to borrow yours, but—”
“Listen, um,” he coughed, lowering his voice even more, “that sounds great— but I, uh… I sort of have company for the night."
“Oh?” you blurted out, like you’d been punched in the gut— it sure felt like it. “Oh, that’s… anybody I know?”
“No, um, we met today,” he explained. “She, uh, came by the video store and we got to talking.”
Whore. “Let me guess, showing her something from the private collection?” you asked— and you really did mean to refer to his literal DVD shelf, but he let out a sort of salacious chuckle.
“If all goes well,” he replied with a purr.
“R-right, well, sorry for calling—”
“No no, it’s fine,” he promised, “we’ll talk tomorrow?”
Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow, because I always come back, no matter how bad it hurts. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” he returned, and you kept holding the phone to your ear long after the click and dial tone.
You knew you had absolutely no right to be jealous. Honestly, you weren’t— well, you definitely were, but that wasn’t why you ran to your bed and sobbed into it. You did that because of the hate you felt— some for Neil, some for little miss I go back to video store owner’s apartments, but plenty leftover for yourself. You had only been through as much as you put yourself through; as much as you allowed to happen. You stayed by his side all these years and let your heart get battered around… it wasn’t always this hard, and you used to be sure that it would be harder to stop being his sidekick. But you couldn’t do this anymore— it was just humiliating, and useless.
You thought about calling Jonathan, but you felt guilty dumping any more weepy girl problems on him. And, you know, that wouldn’t actually fix anything. There was only one way to fix this, but you didn’t think you were strong enough— you knew you weren’t, actually.
It was hard to say why this one hurt so much— it’s not like you thought Neil was a virgin or something, or genuinely expected him to stay chaste after breaking up with Denise— but you suspected it was because you yourself were recognizing how long you’d been stuck in this cycle with him. You remembered crying in your bed just like this when he got his first girlfriend junior year; you realized how little you’d changed since then. How little you’d grown up.
So, no, you weren’t just crying because you were that jealous he was going to have sex with some random woman. But you had to admit that was definitely part of it.
~
"Hey boss," Jonathan greeted as Neil walked in; you looked down at the tapes on the shelf in front of you, suddenly making yourself look very busy. "How's the walk of shame?"
"I prefer 'stride of pride'," Neil replied.
“So that girl really came over after close?” Lucien realized.
“Yeah, she, uh, wanted to see The Seventh Seal,” Neil explained.
“I’m suuuuure she did,” Jonathan purred, raising his eyebrows repeatedly.
“Girls never wanna watch that,” Lucien assured.
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Neil scoffed, turning to you. “You like it, right, kid?”
“I, um… yeah,” you mumbled— whatever you had to say to end this conversation.
“Well, did she like it?” Lucien wondered.
“Uh, we… we didn’t actually finish it,” Neil admitted, and Lucien laughed as he shoved him on the shoulder.
You glanced at Jonathan, but he was already looking at you— and you hated the pity in his eyes, so you looked away again.
They kept talking, but you couldn’t hear it over the sound of… whatever sound it makes inside your head when you’re trying not to cry at work.
~
You didn’t do it that same day: it would be too suspicious, and you didn’t want to make a rash decision while you were still so upset. Part of you was still hoping to get through this phase and go back to the ignorant bliss you’d had so recently. But you didn’t, and you could tell that Neil sensed something was wrong— you had been sort of avoiding him for a few days while you tried to decide what to do.
But now, you’d decided. You reached up to knock on his office door— Neil Lewis, P.I. embossed on the frosted glass— but you sighed and dropped your fist, just opening the door instead.
He was so focused on what he was working on that he didn’t look up— and he didn’t even seem to fully process that you had come in, or that you were standing there right in front of him. Obviously he knew you were standing there, but he let you stand there for an awkwardly long time without asking what you wanted.
You appreciated it, though, ‘cause it gave you a while to watch him uninterrupted, wondering if you might never see him so relaxed again.
“Hey, Neil…” you mumbled, and he didn’t look up from his desk. “Um…”
Not sure what else to say, you just handed him the paper. He finally gave you a sliver of his attention to take it, smiling in slight confusion as he looked up at you. “What is this?”
“It’s my two weeks.”
His smile fell. “What?”
Oh, you hated doing this— it broke your heart, seeing that look on his face. “I, uh, I just think it’s better if I—”
“No, wait,” he breathed, standing up, “you— come on, you can’t. It’s— what’s going on?!”
“Nothing,” you insisted as you shook your head, “I just need, uh— nothing’s going on.”
I just need some space, you were gonna say, but you knew that would just open up more questions. “Well, are you gonna work somewhere else?” he asked. “Are you still gonna come by, or will I just see you on movie nights?”
“I— well, I wasn’t sure about movie nights either, actually,” you admitted, and he laughed— but it wasn’t a happy laugh, it was a confused, breathless, almost angry sort of laugh.
“What the fuck are you talking about?!” he snapped. “I— you’re my best friend! Did I do something? ‘Cause listen, I wasn’t serious about you offering to date guys who come into the store— I swear I was joking— god, I’m an asshole—”
“No, Neil, it’s not that, that was weeks ago,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “I just… think maybe we’ve been friends so long, you know, and it’s like— why?”
“Why?” he repeated.
“Like, maybe we just think we have to be friends because we’ve always been friends,” you continued, “but maybe we should be like normal people and— and grow apart over time. We were really close in high school because we were the losers that everyone ignored and now… now I think we should just… grow up.”
He looked bewildered— he looked devastated, actually. He shook his head, breathing out a quick sigh, and you weren’t sure if he was even really listening to you but you kept going.
“Sometimes I think I can’t get a boyfriend because guys are weirded out by you— I mean, not like that,” you backtracked slightly. “Well, kind of… but I meant, like, they don’t get that we’re just friends, and they think that you’re just trying to sleep with me—”
“Well, fuck them!” he shouted, a little louder than you would’ve preferred since everyone else was on the other side of that door. “I mean, if they don’t get us, then who fucking cares? They’re idiots, then!”
“Yeah, but—”
“I mean, you think I’d date a girl who didn’t want me to be around you?” he returned. “You shouldn’t be with somebody who thinks like that.”
“Well, that’s easy for you to say, but—”
“But what?”
“But I’m lonely, Neil!” you shouted, immediately reaching to cover your mouth after you said it— mostly to hide your quivering lip. “God,” you choked, lowering your head down to cover your watering eyes instead, “I’m just fucking… tired of being alone, okay?”
“So, what, you’re gonna leave all your friends?” he said, softer. “Because you want a boyfriend? That’s kinda… shallow.”
“What do you expect me to do? Wait around forever?"
"Wait?” he repeated, giving you a confused look. “Wait on what?"
You bit your lip. You couldn't answer that— you couldn't admit that you'd been waiting for him all this time. It's not like he'd asked you to, or expected you to, so you really couldn't be mad at him. You wanted to be, of course, but you couldn't. "I just need to leave, Neil," you whispered, knowing you'd sob harder if you spoke any louder. "I'm sorry. I just need to leave."
You turned, reaching for the door, and his hand suddenly came to your shoulder. His voice was needy and quiet: "You can't go, kid—"
"Don't fucking call me kid!" you spat, shoving him away as you cried harder. "I hate when you call me that!"
I love when you call me that. I hate that I love when you call me that.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't know, okay? Whatever I did wrong, I'm sorry. I guess I should let you go, right? Or I'm just making it worse…”
You weren’t sure what you wanted, really. You wanted just as much for him to finally give you the dignity you’d been craving and let you leave, as you did for him to grab you and hold you tight and tell you that you had to stay, that he needed you to stay.
“If you wanna quit, you can quit— no two weeks needed, we’ll be fine,” he promised. “But… are you still gonna come back tomorrow?”
He wasn’t asking about tomorrow— he was asking about every day. Tomorrow, the next day, the next, the next after that: he was asking you to rot your life away on that couch watching weird old movies with him. And in a way, that was all you wanted. That part you really could do forever. But watching him get new girlfriends, get dumped, get over it— that cycle was just going to get worse and, god forbid, you’d have to see him really truly happy with someone else. It just wasn’t fair to anyone anymore.
You didn’t answer his question, you just looked at him again. He looked back at you in disbelief— you hadn’t meant to blindside him like this, but it was the only way to get a semi-clean break. You hadn’t meant to cry either, though, but that was pretty much unavoidable. “You’re really leaving?” he said quietly in sober realization, and you bit your shaking lip as you nodded. He looked around for a moment, as if he’d find answers somewhere in this office, and raised his hands before dropping them defeatedly. “Why?”
You thought about how to answer that for a while— longer than was natural in a conversation. There were a thousand things to say, but only one came out, as quiet as a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
"I never wanted to hurt you," he promised.
"I know," you breathed, finally turning the knob and stepping out.
You tried to act natural, but that was impossible with tears streaming down your face. "What's up?" Jonathan asked, more neutrally than you expected, and you broke: you hid your face and ran towards the door, bolting out of the store and down the street. Just before you stepped out you heard Jonathan ask Neil, "Dude, what did you say to her?!"
"I didn't say anything!" Neil insisted, but you didn't care to stay to hear the rest, you just wanted to be as far away from Gumshoe Video as possible.
~
When you heard a knock at the door, you paused Casablanca and brushed the used tissues off your coffee table. “Who is it?” you called out, sitting up slightly on the couch.
“Um,” you heard Neil’s voice from the other side, and you groaned as you curled up in a ball, “I was just checking in—”
“Go. Away.” you warned sternly.
“Can’t you just let me in?” he whined, but that’s when he tried the knob, and realized the door was unlocked. You heard the door open and shrunk up tighter into your fetal position as he entered.
“Hey, I, uh,” he began nervously, raising his hands in a wave but then slapping them down on his legs when he didn’t get a response, “I just… wanted to talk to you…”
You didn’t respond, and in the tense silence, he must have glanced at the TV.
“Good choice,” he noticed.
“Did Jonathan tell you?” you asked right away— because that was the worst thing that could happen. Him coming here just because he felt bad, because he found out you loved him, not because he really loved you. The last thing you needed was Neil talking himself into liking you just to keep you from leaving him.
“Tell me what?” Neil said earnestly. You peeked your head out and looked at him, assessing with narrow eyes. “Seriously, what does Jonathan know that I don’t?”
“Nothing, sorry,” you shook your head. “You can, uh… you can say whatever it is you came here to say.”
“Oh, well, I… I kinda didn’t plan that part,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.
“You said you wanted to talk to me,” you remembered.
“Yeah, but I didn’t really have any steps after that,” he sighed, and you groaned as you hid your face again.
“God, Neil, that is just like you!” you whined.
“Well, sorry! You haven’t been talking to me, I wasn’t sure you’d let me in!” he defended. “What am I supposed to think!”
“You’re supposed to have some kind of… speech, or something!” you explained.
“I can’t believe I’m finally the one saying this,” he said, smirking a bit, “but life isn’t like the movies, kid.”
You showed your face again, and you looked at his, and you couldn’t think of a better word for his expression than just sad. Not a beautiful word, not a very interesting one, but the best way to describe him right then. He looked just as miserable as you felt— and that, weirdly, comforted you a little. You’d wondered if he was just fine without you (not that you really thought he was, with how dramatic he could be). “Why can’t it be?” you asked quietly.
He sighed and sat down on the couch beside you; you moved your feet closer to make room for him. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I kinda thought our life was a movie— best friends, running a small business, getting into shenanigans…”
“Shenanigans?” you repeated incredulously.
“Well, you know, something like that,” he replied.
“It was like a movie, kind of, for a while,” you agreed. A sad movie about a stupid lonely girl.
“I just always thought—” he began, but you tightened your jaw and interrupted him.
“What was the plan, huh? What did you really expect to happen?” you snapped. “That we could just… do this, forever?”
“Yeah, basically!” he shouted back. “Why not?”
“Why not?!” you repeated. “Neil, didn’t you think I’d ever find somebody? Did you think I could fall asleep on your fucking couch with a husband and baby at home?”
“I— I don’t know,” he admitted, losing some of his nerve as he seemed to watch his own logic fall apart. “I just figured you wouldn’t be with anybody who didn’t, you know, understand us!”
“I don’t understand us anymore!” you whined, setting your legs back down on the floor so you could face him better. “It’s like— it’s just like it was in high school! You know, I could’ve been popular if it wasn’t for you!”
“Yeah, if it wasn’t for me, and that pesky ‘who you really are’ thing!” he scoffed. “Is that what you wanted, to be fake like everyone else?”
“No,” you admitted, “but I’m saying it’s the same thing— I could have a real life, you know, if you weren’t always around!”
“Well, Jesus, I’m sorry for ruining your boring, normal life with my weirdness,” he offered sarcastically. “See, this whole time, I thought you were cool, but I guess you’re just a poser!”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands, “that’s your dig? Poser? Are you fucking fourteen?!”
“I’d rather be a little immature than be fake,” he decided, crossing his arms proudly.
“Okay, well I’d rather be fake than be alone,” you replied, anger melting away into sadness once again; you bit your shaking lip and looked away.
“You shouldn’t have to choose,” he sighed, leaning in a bit closer to you. “Of course I figured you’d find somebody, someday— somebody who really appreciates you, you know? Somebody cool. And he and I could be friends, too— I always figured he’d have a really cool name like… I don’t know, like Augustus or Rutherford or something.”
“Rutherford?” you repeated with a small grimace.
“That’s not the point— I just mean that he’d be kinda pretentious but, like, fun. And rich. And you could invite me over to swim in your pool and play croquet and stuff.”
You laughed a little, then sniffled. Of course that’s what he thought rich people did.
“And you’d have kids, and they’d call me Uncle Neil,” he continued, “and I’d get them on the really cool stuff, you know— none of that Disney Channel crap, they’d be watching indie flicks and German expressionism before they even hit high school; gotta start ‘em early.”
“But what about you?” you asked. “Where do you end up?”
“I… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I guess I just figured I’d always be here.”
You found yourself moving in a little closer— close enough that you had to look up at him slightly even while just sitting on the couch. “So you really never thought about it?” you pressed, biting your lip, and you clarified even though it kind of seemed like he knew what you meant. “Us, together?”
“God, are you kidding?” he snorted. “Of course I thought about it, I mean… yeah, I thought about it…”
His voice changed a little the second time he said it, and your heartbeat sped up just a bit.
“But every time I thought about it, I just got so— I don’t know— scared, I guess,” he said quietly.
“Scared?” you repeated.
“‘Cause, you know… it’s me and you,” he explained, smiling a little. “It’s us. And I figured that if you and I got together… that would be, you know… that would be it.”
As you looked at him, you wondered if he could see everything in your eyes right then.
“And what if I wasn’t good enough for you, right? What if I fucked this up, like I fuck up everything, and then we’re not even friends?” he sighed, shaking his head. “And then— and then what am I supposed to do? Just, like, not have you in my life?”
You opened your mouth to promise him that he’d always be in your life, that you could never really go on without him— even if you’d just threatened that and stormed out of the video store— but instead, only a wistful sigh came out.
“C’mon— I don’t even know who I am without you, kid,” he laughed, and your heart jumped.
“Okay,” you agreed quietly, “but what if you don’t fuck it up? What if we’re perfect together, and happy, and it just makes sense?”
“Then that’s even worse!” he announced with a grin, and you laughed.
“What?” you giggled, letting him pull you a little closer.
“Then we get together, and you move in, and we get married and have a bunch of babies— and then that’s it! Me and you, heading towards oblivion,” he described, pointing forward with his hand like it was a straight path to the end, “being, you know… grown-ups.”
You dropped your forehead onto his shoulder, laughing in exasperation.
“I know it’s stupid,” he admitted, “but that’s… that’s what scared me, I think. And I guess I just liked how things were so much— well, that’s not totally true. There were days where I thought I really couldn’t take it anymore, that I just had to be with you, but…”
“But you’re kind of a pussy?” you finished for him, and he laughed as his arm wrapped around you.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “very much so, actually.”
You looked up at him, and the way he looked back at you was painfully perfect. And now that you saw it, you realized it wasn’t new— he’d looked at you like this before, when he woke you up on the store couch in the morning or when you made fun of him in front of everybody or when you helped him pick what to wear for a party. How come you hadn’t seen it before?
It seemed like you’d been scared, too. You could’ve just told him then, you could’ve just kissed him— but maybe you were both a little too afraid to rock the boat. “I mean, your little future plan sounds nice, but…” you hummed, “I don’t want Rutherford.”
“Don’t rule out Augustus,” he warned, tilting his head and pointing his finger at you, and you laughed softly.
“I want you, Neil,” you breathed, feeling so many emotions at once as you finally said what you’d been terrified to admit for the better part of a decade.
He took a deep breath, too— like he’d been waiting a long time to hear that. “I want you too, kid,” he admitted. You could’ve asked him to stop calling you that now, but since it made your knees a little weak (thank god you were sitting down already), you let it slide for now.
“Okay, well,” you decided, scooting closer to him on the couch again, “let’s agree on something.”
“Okay,” he whispered.
“Let’s get together,” you said, trying to keep your nerve, “and I’ll move in, and we’ll get married and have a bunch of babies— but we’ll never grow up.”
He laughed a little, finally seeming a bit nervous, and reached up to touch your face: his knuckles rested on your cheek while his thumb pet your temple gently. “Okay,” he said again.
Your heart raced as he moved in a little closer, turning himself towards you on the couch, and your eyes moved back and forth from his eyes to his lips to his eyes to his lips— he’s gonna kiss me.
Just when you were about to shut your eyes and let it happen, he pulled back slightly. “Sorry,” he laughed nervously, “I— sorry. Been thinking about this since I was seven, it’s a lot of pressure.”
Your heart warmed to hear him admit that. “All these years and you never thought to just man up and kiss me?”
“I did kiss you!” he defended.
“New Year’s doesn’t count,” you scoffed.
“Good,” he sighed, “because then there’s still a chance for our first kiss to be perfect.”
“Like the movies?” you asked hopefully.
“Yeah,” he agreed softly, holding your chin and tilting it back gently. “Like the movies.”
It did feel like a movie; you could’ve sworn you heard dramatic background music alongside the pounding in your ears. You took a deep breath in through your nose as you kissed him back, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him closer. There was no point in acting coy now, he knew the truth— and you were totally helpless, this was all you’d been imagining for years and it was real: in that way, it was so much better than a movie.
His hands found your back and pulled you into him, until you hopped up and straddled his lap— holding his face, running your fingers through his hair, kissing him as desperately as you could get away with.
He certainly didn’t seem to mind, in fact he just held you tighter and kissed you harder and even pulled your hips down into his lap where you gasped at the feeling of a firm bulge in his jeans. “You’re already hard?” you noticed, pulling back just enough to speak, and he laughed breathlessly.
“Jesus, you’re already making fun of me,” he coughed.
“I’m not! Sorry,” you laughed, “I just— we only started kissing a minute ago—”
“Yeah, but— come on, kid, you’re gorgeous,” he sighed, “and you can’t pull me towards you with my shirt like that without expecting a reaction…”
“I really wasn’t trying to get you worked up,” you cooed, “I just need you that bad.”
“Fuck,” he laughed, running his hands up your back, “you can’t say stuff like that either…”
“I can’t?” you pressed with a smirk as you ran your hands over his chest through the t-shirt. “Or what?”
“Orrr I’m not gonna have very much patience,” he explained with a grin, “and I’ll just have to make love to you on this couch right now.”
“Oh, make love,” you repeated, shimmying your shoulders a bit, “you don’t have to be so formal, Neil. You can just fuck me.”
He growled and grabbed you tight, throwing you down on the couch as you beamed and he descended upon you.
You tugged at each other’s clothes hungrily: you had on some baggy old shirt that he tossed aside quickly, he was wearing band merch that he barely stopped kissing you long enough to let you get over his head. You’d seen him shirtless all the time when you went to the beach together or he just changed shirts in front of you (‘cause guys can just do that, your sanity be damned), you’d even felt him shirtless before due to playful wrestling in the pool, but wow it felt different to have his bare torso pressed against you, and you loved it already.
You know what else felt different? Neil staring down, mouth slightly open as he panted, at your tits. You almost felt self-conscious until he grabbed your waist and latching his mouth onto one needily.
“Fuck,” you groaned, gasping as the tip of his tongue flicked over the bud of your nipple. His hand squeezed the other one with just the right amount of roughness— his hands were big, and hot, and you’d put quite a lot of consideration into how they’d feel running over your skin. They were lovely, as were his fingers pinching lightly at your nipple until you squirmed. “Neil, c’mon—” you started to beg.
“Hold on,” he groaned against your skin, hot breaths tickling where his spit wet your breast, “been waiting a while to do this. Wanna savor it.”
Well, he could savor all he wanted, but you had been waiting too long to have any patience left; you reached down and got his belt open with a little finagling, pushing his jeans down his legs with your feet. His boxers, annoyingly, stayed up, but he smiled at you and started to pull your shorts down, too.
So there you were, laying together on your sofa— him on top of you, you staring up at him in amazement— both in just your underwear. And socks, technically, but you weren’t really worrying about those at the moment.
“Are we gonna do this like they do in the movies, too?” you asked with a breathless laugh.
“They don’t show this part in the movies,” he replied quickly.
“Not those movies…”
He got your drift and grinned a little, but shook his head. “No, not like that. I want this to be, you know, special…”
“Neil, I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve. It’s gonna be special no matter what,” you promised, holding his face for emphasis. “Doesn’t mean it can’t be, you know, kinky.”
He raised an eyebrow in intrigue. “Kinky?” he repeated. “Would you mind clarifying that for me?”
You bit your lip and looked away shyly. “Well, you know, I’ve thought about, like… like maybe how it would be if you tied me to the bed…”
He grinned. “Alright,” he replied expectantly, waiting for the list to go on.
“Or if you bent me over your desk at the store,” you added, heart racing with nervousness to admit that fantasy, “and had to cover my mouth to keep me quiet…”
“Fuck,” he groaned in agreement. “What else?”
“O-or, you know, that thing where you just keep someone inside you for hours,” you breathed, “and don’t even move, just keep it, you know, warm— we could watch a movie like that—”
“Jesus, kid,” he sighed, “you, um, you really thought this through…”
“Yeah…” you admitted, moaning softly and holding tighter onto his back as he leaned down and kissed your neck.
“I had no idea you were so dirty,” he laughed against your skin. “Whatever movie we watch like that, it better be shit ‘cause I have no chance of paying any attention.”
“W-well, you said you thought about it too,” you remembered. “What did you think this would be like?”
“I didn’t think about that, I’m too romantic,” he denied proudly as he hovered above you again, “I just thought about, you know, taking you on dates and buying you flowers and stuff.”
“O-oh,” you choked, embarrassed.
“Just kidding,” he winked, “I’m not a saint. I thought about how you’d look riding me.”
You giggled slightly, glancing away as you were forced to imagine that, too.
“And how these lips would look,” he continued, softening his voice and running his thumb over your slack bottom lip, “wrapped around my cock—”
“Fuck,” you whispered, nearly overwhelmed by the look in his eyes. “I thought about that too…”
He growled and kissed you hard, reaching down to roughly tug your panties lower. “God, I wish I had the patience for that now,” he mumbled, “but I just need to be inside you—”
“Okay,” you agreed happily, pressing yourself against him as you hugged him closer.
Sliding your hands down his back, you pushed his boxers down his hips and gasped when his cock sprung out and brushed over your inner thigh.
You reached down and grabbed a hold of him— mostly so you’d have a chance to get some idea of what he was about to put in you— and you both gasped for different reasons. You couldn’t speak for him, really, but for you it was a sound of disbelief at how big he was. Not, you know, concerningly massive or anything— you were thankful for that, in fact— but thick and long and curved and oh look you were already guiding that fat tip to your opening because you couldn’t wait anymore.
Clearly he was struggling with a similar impatience because as soon as he felt your entrance he shoved his hips forward and pushed inside— finding some resistance, just from his size, but then you went limp under him and just let it happen.
You were both breathing heavy like you’d run a mile, when you’d barely moved at all; he was only halfway in, and you already felt so full…
“Fuck,” he moaned at the feeling, “you’re so wet, fuck—”
But then he pushed in the rest of the way and you winced just from the intensity of it— it didn’t hurt, really, but it was… a lot. In every sense of the word. "Oh my god," you gasped, holding on tightly to his arms.
He moaned louder, dropping his head into the crook of your neck; he put a hand on the top of your head to keep you steady (and close) as he pumped into you a bit faster already. “You’re so fucking wet,” he said again— it would’ve made you self-conscious that he focused on that so much if it wasn’t obvious that it was driving him wild. But you couldn’t really justify pointing out his sudden boner before when you were soaked like this, could you?
Fortunately, it seemed like he had long since forgotten about that…
It seemed like he never looked away from you, hardly ever even shut his eyes— he just watched your face, with a few detours to look at the way your breasts bounced with each thrust.
The pace was steady and simple, there were no fancy moves or dirty fantasies: he just kissed you sometimes, and watched you the rest of the time. You didn’t say much until you started to feel the pressure building in your gut— up until that point, nothing needed to be said— but the way he was making you feel suddenly compelled you to start running your mouth.
“So good,” you blurted out, and he groaned a little in agreement. “You feel so good, Neil…”
“Yeah?” he confirmed. “Feels like we were made for each other.”
That was not only the most perfect thing you’d ever heard, but undeniably true: the curve of his cock seemed to fit right inside you; he was just big enough to push to the end of you without making your stomach hurt; every movement stretched your walls exactly how you’d craved for longer than you wanted to remember; and you were soaking him, and probably yourself, it was like you just couldn’t stop. Every movement made you feel more insatiable and yet more perfectly satisfied— it was impossible, but it was happening. That’s how it felt: impossibly good.
“Doesn’t it?” he asked, like he was worried you didn’t agree, but you only hadn’t said anything because you knew how loud you would be if you opened your mouth.
“Yes!” you cried out, dropping your head back— see, that’s exactly what you were worried would happen, but he just growled and fucked you deeper. “Yes, fuck yes, Neil—”
“Uh huh?” he encouraged you gruffly, holding you a little tighter, watching you with darker eyes.
“Yes, oh my god,” you choked out, whining and digging your nails into his back sort of unintentionally. “S-so deep…”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “and you take it so good— you feel so fuckin’ perfect, kid…”
Wow, yeah, you really should’ve hated being called that in a moment like this, but you enjoyed it a little too much. "Fuck, m'gonna—" you began your warning.
"Come," he finished for you— no, it was a demand. "I want you to. I wanna see it."
"O-okay," you breathed, "just don't… don't stop…"
He shook his head, fucking you a little faster as he panted. "Not gonna stop," he promised, "not until you're so fucking full—"
"God, Neil," you whined, the pressure in your gut building more and more, making your legs tighten around his hips.
"Until I've given you every drop of come," he continued with a grunt, "and it's fucking dripping out of you—"
"Fuck."
"For days—"
"Fuck—"
"Tomorrow at work—" he mentioned specifically, and your back arched as it hit you; jolts of energy crawled up and down your back, your walls clenching rhythmically around him.
You definitely said something but you were too fucked out to keep track of it. How was it your job to know what you said?! It was something with oh my god and Neil somewhere in there for sure, but that was all you knew. He didn’t even slow down, by the way, just keeping his pace and mumbling praises to you with a rough voice.
As the raw pleasure faded, you found a new feeling swelling within you— a sudden mix of all sorts of emotion, growing faster than you could fight it off. You’d never felt like this, at least in this specific way, but you knew all too well what was coming: you were about to cry.
You weren’t sad, you were anything but sad, but apparently there were just too many pent up feelings and recently-released hormones coursing through you for you to do anything but cry. It happened so suddenly that you couldn’t even think about how you should handle it— if you should warn him or suddenly get up and run away so he wouldn’t see you like that. You were terrified he would be confused and overwhelmed by it, but you were out of options; you bit your lip as it started to shake, tightening your hold on one of his shoulders, and sniffled involuntarily as tears welled in your eyes.
“Oh god, baby, are you okay?” he breathed, his movements coming to a halt, and you nodded your head feverishly.
“I’m okay,” you whimpered, “I’m fine— I’m really good, I’m just—”
He sat up and pulled you up with him, sort of perching you in his lap, and you looked away as you tried to will yourself to stop crying but failed miserably. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked softly.
You shook your head, hugging him so he wouldn’t see your wet face. “N-no, don’t—”
“What’s going on?” he asked, smiling a little even as his voice was heavy with concern; he kissed the side of your head as he pet your hair gently.
“I’m just— m’just really happy,” you breathed shakily. “I just can’t believe this is happening— in a good way.”
He beamed and pulled back to look at your face, holding your cheeks and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I know— that’s how it feels for me, too.”
You choked on another sob, and he soothed you softly, holding you a little closer. “Don’t stop, please,” you whispered, “you said you wouldn’t—”
“Yeah, but I gotta make sure you’re okay,” he laughed.
“I am, really,” you insisted, with a sniffle, “it’s happy tears, I promise. Y-you can keep going, unless all the crying is turning you off…”
“No, it’s okay, kid,” he promised with a little laugh, leaning down to look into your eyes when you tried to glance down, “hey— it’s sweet, okay? And I always thought you were kinda cute when you cried— um, not in a creepy way, but, y’know, like… when we watched sad movies and stuff, and you would hide your face in my shirt—”
You whimpered and shoved your face into the crook of his neck.
“Kinda like that…” he mumbled, rubbing your back as he laid you back down on the couch. “Hey, shh, it’s okay… m’gonna move again, alright?”
You only nodded a little, holding onto him tightly, still crying but managing to get a moan out when he carefully thrusted into you again. He found his pace again, though slower and gentler than before, and lifted himself partially to hover above you. Pushing away some hair that had clung to your face, sticky with sweat and tears, he smiled down at you.
“Hey,” he whispered, “look up at me…”
Afraid to face him like this, you hesitated but blinked quickly as you looked back at him.
“You look beautiful,” he promised quietly. “This is how it was supposed to be, okay? This is how it always should’ve been.”
You nodded in agreement, starting to cry a little harder— though it was pure joy, there was no other way to describe it.
“And this is how it’s gonna be now,” he assured, “you and me.”
“Yeah,” you whispered under your breath, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. He kissed you again softly, and the rest of it was like that: more gentle and patient, shockingly tender, until you two were just melting into each other and you shamelessly gave into every emotion and sensation he guided you through.
~
Today, the store was running a special on cop movies— so you and Neil were, obviously, dressed appropriately in fake uniforms he got on clearance at the costume shop. Was yours technically a reconstituted ‘sexy cop’ with fishnets and a tight latex skirt? Yes, but you at least ditched the fuzzy handcuffs…
You were sitting on the front counter, swinging your legs and watching Neil as he roamed the store, your eyes lingering on the way those navy blue pants did his ass more than a few favors… the whole outfit was working for you, shockingly. The badge, the aviator shades— you were even beginning to see the appeal of the fake mustache.
He seemed to notice you looking, and he smirked at you proudly as he set down the tape he’d been holding.
“Hey,” Neil purred, taking off his sunglasses somewhat dramatically— he sauntered up to you, putting his hands on the counter on either side of your legs. He had that sparkle in his eye as he looked you up and down, and you bit your lip.
“Hey,” you returned, reaching up to drape your arms over his shoulders.
“You look cute,” he hummed at you proudly. “Who picked out this outfit for you?”
“Oh, that would be my super weird boss,” you smirked, your fingers tracing the neckline of Neil’s semi-unbuttoned uniform shirt and the slightest hint of chest hair peeking out from it. “He makes me dress up to promote our specials.”
“He’s probably got a crush on you,” Neil suggested with a grin.
“You think so?” you cooed as you leaned down, kissing him with a smile still on your lips— but you made a little face and pulled back. “The mustache feels weird…”
“Mm, but you’re still gonna kiss me, right?” he assumed proudly— he knew damn well you found him totally irresistible.
“Yeah,” you admitted with a giggle as you kissed him again: deeper, and longer, but still slow and sweet.
The front door jingled as Jonathan walked in. “Woah, hey, workplace!” he groaned, covering his eyes for a minute, and you laughed as you broke away from the kiss, shoving Neil aside and hopping off the counter. “How are our resident lovebirds doing?”
“Horny,” Lucien answered in a thoroughly unamused tone.
“Well, why don’t you let us take over for a couple hours?” Jonathan suggested with a shrug. “Me and Luc can manage and you two can, you know, take a long lunch and shake each other down.”
“What? No,” you grimaced, shuddering at the idea of Jonathan and Lucien waiting for you two here and knowing exactly what you were doing a few blocks down at Neil’s apartment.
“Alright,” Neil agreed at the same time, but quickly changed his answer to a rushed “n-no, yeah, definitely not.”
Lucien smirked and Jonathan shook his head. "Suit yourselves," he replied as he walked away.
You planned to walk away, too, and finally get back to work, but Neil wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into him. You smiled and hugged him back, leaning your head against his chest with a satisfied sigh.
When he let you go, you lingered for just a moment longer before finding the strength to pull away and get back to work— yet again, he stopped you, this time by touching your face to turn it back to him and softly mumbling ‘hey’.
“What is it?” you asked quietly as you looked up at him expectantly.
“I love you, kid,” he said gently, petting your cheek for a second.
“Wh-what way do you mean that?” you wondered, and he furrowed his brows with a smile. “Like— we used to say that sometimes,” you went on, awkwardly stammering as you looked down again, “but, you know… we never meant it like that—”
He interrupted you with a soft whisper of your name, getting your attention once more, tilting your head until your gaze met his. “I only ever meant it one way,” he admitted. “That way.”
one year later…
You wandered through the crowded video store, doing lots of waving and greeting and patting of shoulders— thanking everyone for coming out to celebrate with you.
A gaggle of women suddenly descended on you with giddy delight, and you took turns hugging them and repeating your practiced line about how you were so glad they could make it.
“You look great,” Helen informed you, and you dismissed it with a wave of your hand. “No, really, it’s so cute! You look good in white.”
“You think so? I was worried it would be weird,” you admitted as you looked down at the silk cocktail dress.
“No, it makes perfect sense,” Priyanka said, “and it’s so cool! Is it real vintage?”
“Yeah, you know how we are,” you shrugged and laughed.
“Well, let’s see the ring!” Helen insisted with a squeal, and all three women yelped happily when you brandished your left hand for them to get a good look at it.
“Oh my god, it’s gorgeous!” Georgia gasped.
“Thank you,” you beamed, “I can’t imagine where Neil got the money for it— god knows it wasn’t here, I’ve seen our margins!”
The ladies all seemed to grab your hand at once and yank it closer, tilting your finger to watch the stones sparkle in the light. As they fawned over it, you looked over and found Neil watching you, beer in hand, looking totally smitten. You waved with your free hand and got a small wave back, making you smile even wider.
You split away from the girls after a while, soon stopped by one of Neil’s only friends who actually had this whole adult thing mostly figured out: Marcia, though her husband and baby were across the store meeting the many, many guests who wanted a chance to hold the precious thing.
“I always knew he loved you,” Marcia insisted as she winked at you. “I’m so glad he finally figured it out.”
“Yeah, me too,” you agreed with a laugh. “It’s been great— like, really great. All the fun we had before, but—”
“But you get to have him all to yourself?” she assumed with a grin.
“Well, sure,” you admitted, “but not just that. He’s changed a lot, you know. He’s still the same Neil I always loved but…”
You trailed off, but she nodded like she understood. “But he’s grown up,” she finished for you.
“We got together on the condition that we wouldn’t grow up,” you explained, “that we wouldn’t change and get, you know, boring.”
Marcia rolled her eyes, making you feel much younger than her than you were. “That’s what you figure out eventually,” she replied, “that growing up is a lot more fun when you’re growing together.”
Her unexpectedly sage advice was still in your head almost an hour later, when you and Neil reunited at the back of the room.
“You ready?” he asked you softly, and you nodded with a smile.
“Been ready for this for a long time,” you replied.
Neil got the crowd’s attention, motioning for the guests to gather in a vague semi-circle facing you and him; you squeezed his hand, feeling your heartbeat pick up just a bit.
“We just wanted to thank you all for coming,” Neil explained, “I mean, it’s so special to have everyone we love gathered in our favorite place…”
You looked out at the crowd filling the store and noticed that, all together, it was a lot more loved ones than you realized you had.
“And with that in mind, we do have a little announcement,” he continued with a beaming smile.
“Pregnant!” Lucien blurted out, and you glared at him as a fellow guest slapped him on the arm.
“Not that,” Neil laughed, “maybe I shouldn’t have said it that way but, uh, anyways…”
“This isn’t just our engagement party,” you admitted with a grin, “it’s our wedding!”
You pulled the mini-veil out from where you’d hidden it in a fake VHS clamshell and quickly clipped it on, the crowd clapping and gasping, and you motioned for Jonathan to come forward to do the honors.
“The bride and groom have prepared special, joint vows,” Jonathan explained as he stepped up beside you both, pulling notecards out of his pocket. You and Neil faced each other, holding your hands together between you; he even swung your hands a little as he smiled at you, and you laughed softly. “Do you take each other in marriage, for life, no takebacksies?”
“We do,” you both replied.
“Do you swear to tell the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” he asked, and you gave him a confused look. “Sorry— wrong line. Watching too much Law & Order…”
Your spectating friends and family chuckled, though some seemed nervous with Jonathan making a joke like that during your literal wedding ceremony— but you thought it was perfect. You wouldn’t have asked Jonathan to officiate if you didn’t want some ill-timed, goofy joke.
“Do you promise to keep each other close in body and spirit, to share your joy and pain, and to face every day together as best friends and life partners?”
“We do.”
“And do you swear,” Jonathan went on, suddenly getting very serious and lowering his voice, “to always, without fail… be kind and rewind?”
The crowd chuckled, and you and Neil agreed enthusiastically: “We do.”
“Then, by the power vested in me by a very shady website that I think might have been some kind of minister license scam out of Estonia… I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Jonathan beamed, throwing his notecards in the air triumphantly. “Now kiss each other, ya idiots!”
It was one of those wedding kisses that went on a little too long, a few whistles and whoops from the crowd alerting you that it might be too steamy for such a public moment— but damn, was it perfect. As much as you just wanted to grab onto your husband and never let go, both of you were instantly swarmed by loved ones wanting hugs and to offer their congratulations. You obviously obliged, thanking everyone you could for being a part of this impromptu ceremony… and basking in the joy when most of them said something about how they always expected this or couldn’t believe it took so long.
“Congrats, man,” Jonathan mumbled to Neil as he grabbed him by the shoulder. “I think this is the part where she fucks me and kills Lucien.”
“Shut up,” Neil scoffed as he shoved Jonathan away, but he couldn’t stop smiling— and he couldn’t stop staring at you. Here's looking at you, kid.
#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis smut#watching the detectives#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
five-finger discount
Pairing | Neil Lewis x Reader
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blackmail, sex on camera, brief edging, creampie, cheating, cursing, Moth pretends to know anything about movies
Summary | You’ve been trying to make easy money, but you’re not as subtle as you thought. Some lessons need to be learned the hard way.
Words | 4.4k
Notes | FINALLY DONE. and vaguely inspired by 70s porn haha
MINORS DNI
INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – THRILLER AISLE – DAY
“No, it's not. That's not what she said. Someone is in trouble. Something bad is happening!” squawks a woman from the running TV in the background while your fingers trace over the backs of the VHS as you walk past the shelves.
1 PM on a Wednesday certainly is no rush hour at Gumshoe Video. Even the most annoying film bros don't come here at this time of day to flaunt their knowledge of the craft and subsequent absence of social skills. You're in the clear, pretending to deeply think about your choice in entertainment for the end of the day, even though that couldn't be further from the truth. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you spot the business owner, entranced by the film that he put on to pass the time, and you can see his plush lips silently mouthing along to the dialog. Cute. And easy to trick.
It's not your first time here. No, you made sure to become familiar with the place over the course of months now, learning where each genre and title has been sorted into its rightful place.
Certain old VHS-tapes can sell for a small fortune online, and for every tape you rent, you take one for free with the plan of selling it to the highest bidder. Currently, you have a stack at home, waiting for you to finally stop procrastinating and open up that damn eBay account.
Your pinky catches on a specific tape. 'A History of Violence', currently estimated to lure an additional 199 bucks into your greedy bank account. Quietly, you pull out the film, leaving a gaping hole in the neatly sorted row as you slip it into your purse.
With nimble hands, you try to rearrange the tapes to make the missing VHS a little less obvious, but in your haste, a few of them escape your clammy grasp and clutter to the ground. A head of silky brunette hair whips around, and you're met with pretty blue eyes as the store owner turns to face you.
You let out a giggle, trying to sound as vapid and innocuous as possible. You’re in character now. The persona you chose? An unassuming, ditzy little thing that’s hot enough to distract him, but stupid enough as to not get suspected of any wrong-doings. You’d say you’re a good actress. A fantastic one, even.
"Sorry," you purr, batting your eyelashes at him. "I'm a little clumsy today." You're already bending over to pick up the tapes when he makes his way over to lend a helping hand, and you make sure to show off your cleavage in an intentionally accidental way. You know he’s into you. You’ve been seeing the heat in his gaze for weeks now, along with the occasional crack in his voice and an almost endearing desire to impress you. It’s his biggest weakness and the reason your plan has been working flawlessly until now.
"Hey, hey, no worries. Uh, gravity wins sometimes. Don't sweat it," he grins at you, brushing his fingers against yours as the two of you work together to put everything back into place.
"What exactly were you looking for anyway?" he suddenly asks, breaking your focus for a second.
"Uh, Moonstruck," you mutter, completely on autopilot. The store owner nods, pursing his lips as he mulls over your answer. You’re aware of your blunder before he even answers.
"Moonstruck? Then you're in the wrong section. You know, with how often you come here, I thought you got the hang of our layout by now." Fuck, he’s got you. Play dumb. Play dumb!
Your poker face almost cracks, but you keep your composure. Or at least you try to. "Huh? Oh - I... right. God, I'm just all over the place today." You giggle again, relieved by the way his grin seems to soften. Hook, line and sinker. He may think he’s detective Sam Spade from ‘The Maltese Falcon’, but you’re Brigid O’Shaughnessy. Or he’s Batman and you’re Catwoman. Or – well, it doesn’t matter. Baseline is, you’re snatching tapes right from underneath his nose while he’s too busy fantasizing about what’s underneath your clothes.
The store owner speaks up again, lazily rubbing the back of his neck as he leans against the shelf, and his free hand wanders and gestures around a bit as if he’s trying to figure out which pose would look the coolest and most effortless.
“Right. Actually, that wasn’t really fair of me.” You tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly which prompts him to elaborate. “Some of our tapes went missing. Y’know, some of the oldies and goldies? That’s why I didn’t stock Moonstruck this week.”
Your lips part in surprise, but all you can reply with is a soft ‘oh’. The store owner shrugs, leaning in towards you. There’s something conspiratory about his expression which makes your stomach churn a little. “Yeah. But I do still have it. It’s just in my office.”
There’s a beat of silence as you mull over the unspoken offer. Your plan is built on the one tape you always rent for cheap. No one would think you’re stealing if you’re actually paying for something, right? Despite this, you wonder if you should call it a day and head home with the stolen film hidden in your purse. Alibi be damned.
“I… That’s great. Uh, actually, I was just about to –“ he cuts you off with a casual wave of his hand, and the grin on his face widens once more.
“Don’t worry. I’ll even give you a discount. Just follow me.”
INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – NEIL LEWIS’ PRIVATE OFFICE – DAY
The private office of Neil Lewis, cinephile and pop culture enthusiast, is decorated with a distinct Film Noir charm, lovingly empathized by leather chairs and a checkered floor. Not to mention the letters on the door. He calls himself a private investigator. A joking title that makes you palms sweat ever so slightly. You notice that he set up a small camera on his desk, but he brushes it off as a regular procedure.
"So... Moonstruck,” he starts, gesturing for you to take a seat. Which you do. “Great pick. Just curious - Why did you go for that one?" The question makes you pause for a second.
"The... the cover spoke to me,” you casually lie, trying to sound somewhat cute, but it doesn’t land. Neil’s expression quickly betrays his skepticism, and his lips part while his narrowed gaze wanders around the room for a minute. "Hm. And what about the other one?"
"What do you mean?" Play dumb, play dumb, play – but he’s not letting you off the hook so easily.
"The other tape."
Silence fills the office, and you swear the VHS in your purse is starting to burn a hole right where it’s settled in your lap.
"Which... other tape? I just picked out this one."
"Ohhh, right. Sorry. My bad. Just… Moonstruck." The way he’s saying this makes it seem like he enjoys the taste of the letters on his tongue. You nod, a little too eager to get this conversation over and done with.
"So you won’t mind me looking through your purse?" Neil leans forward in his seat, folding his hands on top of his desk. Your eyes briefly fall onto the little desk name plate that’s undoubtedly just made out of shiny, golden plastic. But it does the job. It intimidates you. At least to a certain degree.
“No,” you lie through your teeth, trying to shrug off the tension. “I… it’s certainly no problem, Mr. Lewis. None at all.”
Neil lets out an apathetic sigh as he rises from his seat, causing the leather to squeak. His steps seem a little too confident for a video rental owner as he moves around the desk to first walk over to the door and lock it. “Neil is fine. I’m not a big fan of… formalities,” he starts, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders. His hands are gentle but firm, causing your body to warm right down to the deepest layers. To make his control over the situation even more apparent, he splays his hands, tracing your collarbone with his middle finger. It’s subtle enough that he could pass it off as a figment of your imagination if you should choose to speak up. But you don’t. You stay quiet, even as he leans down and you can hear the murmur of his voice right next to your ear.
“Open your purse.”
You bite your tongue, slowly opening your purse to find Cher’s face grinning back at you. It’s Moonstruck. In all of its romantic glory, and it makes both you and Neil freeze for a moment. You lick your dry lips, saying the first thing that comes to mind.
"That's mine."
"Yours?" You wouldn’t know, but his eyebrow twitches upward at your ridiculous claim.
"Yeah. A... personal copy." Great, now you’re doubling down.
"With my name on it?" Silence, yet again. You could basically hear the dramatic music that the producers of any reality TV shows use in the background of any tense scene. But this isn’t scripted. No, all of this is improvised.
"... what are the odds?" you croak, feeling how your throat goes dry in real time. Neil scoffs in reply, shaking his head, and his grip on your shoulders tightens a tad before he lets go entirely. His expression is stern as he steps in front of you, leaning against the desk and crossing his shapely arms over his chest. For a moment, he’s silent, letting his eyes wander all over your form in a slow, appreciative way that makes your palms get sweaty. “You do know I have to call the police, don’t you?”
“What?” Your breath hitches in your lungs, and you blink a few times, almost in an attempt to shake yourself out of this very strange dream. “This… this is just one tape. Isn’t this kind of excessive?”
“Yeah, maybe it’s one tape today. But you’ve been coming here for weeks.” Your jaw drops, but you can’t seem to come up with an appropriate response. You’ve been had. For the past months, you were convinced that he only saw you as a little piece of eye candy wandering through the store, but he’s been seeing right through you all along. Now you definitely don’t feel like Catwoman anymore. When he notices that you’re not going to say anything, Neil continues.
“Did you really think we don’t have security cameras all over the place? Well, I’ve been watching you the entire time, playing along when you pretended to be all ditzy and cute. It’s not just one instance. It’s a whole case, baby. And you’ll go to jail.” That makes you break out of your stupor, and you can feel your pulse speeding up.
“No- wait, no, no, no. Please, can’t we just talk about this for one second?”
“I don’t bargain with thieves.” He’s smug. Too smug for your liking, considering that he’s threatening you with the loss of your precious, precious freedom.
“Please, I’ll do anything,” you plead, fixing him with the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster in an attempt to appeal to the soft, awkward side of him. And he cracks. At least the tiniest bit.
“Maybe… maybe we can work something out. But I’ll need to search you first. Who knows what else you’re hiding.” He gestures for you to stand, and you get up from your seat, causing the leather cushioning to faintly squeak once again. “Spread your arms. To the side.”
Your expression settles into a pout, but you do as you’re told, much to Neil’s satisfaction. He returns to his previous position behind you and starts by touching your shoulders, slowly trailing his hands down your arms. His fingers leave tingles behind on your skin, and you’re even more aware of how close he’s gotten when you feel his breath on the back of your neck. His cheeky hands continue to wander, making their way down your sides, softly squeezing around your waist before he moves on to your hips. You try to think about it as a TSA search, but it’s a little hard to do when his hands linger for much longer than necessary on your thighs and your calves as he crouches down. Once he’s satisfied, he straightens back up, and you almost think he’s done before he leans in to rasp into your ear.
“You’re gonna have to take your clothes off… so I can search you more thoroughly.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you’re about to protest, but he’s already pulling your top off, tossing it aside before he moves on to your shorts. A sigh escapes him as he pulls them down along with your panties, and he doesn’t give you even a second to recover before he’s gripping and caressing the curves of your body. Leaning his chin on your shoulder, he runs his fingers over your hips, feeling how your skin warms beneath his touch. “Take your bra off.”
“What? There’s no way I could be hiding a tape in there –“ In response, Neil lightly pinches your thigh, causing you to jump a little and let out a soft whine. Seems like there’s no way around it. With shaky hands, you reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, and Neil leans back ever so slightly to give you the space to move. That is, until your tits are exposed, and his body is glued against yours once more. The feeling of his hardening cock pressing up against your ass sends heat into your core, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. Of course, this catches his attention.
“Ah, so you are hiding something.”
He wraps his arms around you, steering the two of you over to the mirror he hung on the wall next to his ridiculous little costume rack. You watch your own flushed expression as his hand slips between your legs to let his fingers trace over your already wet folds. With a groan, you try to avert your eyes before he corrects you with a rough grope of your breast.
“No. Eyes on yourself. I want you to see the guilt on your face while I search you.”
Reluctantly, your eyes return to the mirror, just in time for him to plunge a finger into your velvety pussy. Your lips part, and as much as you’d like to keep quiet, your resolve crumbles immediately when he finds that sweet spot inside of you. Within minutes, the office fills up with the sounds of your pleasure and the obscene squelching of his fingers in your wet cunt. And he’s thorough in his search, quickly working you up from one finger to three, making your toes curl against the checkered floor. For a moment, he drives you up to that delightful edge, only to pull his fingers out of you at the last second.
You don’t have the capacity to complain when he lifts his hand towards the light, showing off his glistening digits. Both of you are entranced by the sight, and Neil lets out a soft wheeze before he licks his fingers clean.
“Yeah, I made up my mind. Get over to the desk and bend over.”
“I have a boyfriend,” you whine, turning your head to give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.
“Well, you should’ve thought about it before you stole from me. Losing those rare tapes was a financial disaster for me. I’m risking this store. And I’m not gonna do it without something in return.” He finishes his sentence with a light smack to your ass which only manages to get you even more riled up. It’s hard to disagree with him when he knows just how to get you going.
Neil drags you back over to the desk, angling the camera in just the right way before he hurriedly tears his clothes off completely. The sight of his urgency makes your chest fill with butterflies, but you still need to protest. You have to!
“I don’t usually do this… what if my boyfriend finds out?”
“That’s one more reason to behave. You wouldn’t want him to see this little clip, right?” he asks, although the question is entirely rhetorical. You’d love to feel guilty, but you can’t bring yourself to it.
His hands run from your shoulders down to your hips, kneading your flesh with the attentiveness of a potter crafting a masterpiece, and he leans over you to place open-mouthed kisses down your spine. You shiver, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle the noises that are threatening to escape your mouth. With a quick movement, Neil reaches under your knee to guide your leg on top of the desk, and you let out a soft sigh when you can feel your arousal rolling down the inside of your thigh as he spreads you open with two fingers.
“You know… nice girls wouldn’t get this wet in situations like these. Then again, you’re a filthy thief, so you’re the furthest thing from a good girl.”
Neil wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest so he can latch back onto the side of your neck, sucking and biting while he uses his other hand to guide the tip of his cock against your drooling entrance. His naked skin against yours fills your head with need, and you press up against him a little more to feel him more closely as he slowly pushes inside your velvety cunt. Both of you let out a hiss, and Neil follows it up with a needy whimper as he stills for a moment.
“Fuck… oh fuck,” he breathes, causing your lips to twitch up in subtle amusement. Neil’s hand shakes as he adjusts the camera, making sure to get everything in frame, and in this moment, you clench around him on purpose, causing him to moan right into your ear. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that –”
The slap to your ass is meant to punish you, but it’s doing the exact opposite, and you let him know this by moaning his name. His lips return to your pulse as he pushes his cock deeper into you, stretching you so perfectly that it sends goosebumps over your skin. Or maybe it’s because of his warm breath on your ear. Or his hands diligently kneading your tits. The cocktail of heated touches and sensations is literally making you feel drunk.
“Your cock feels so good,” you whine, causing him to suck in a sharp breath at the praise.
“Yeah?” he chuckles, bottoming out inside of you before he starts to set a slow, sensual rhythm. “You’re such a depraved little slut… getting off on your punishment. If only your boyfriend knew.”
Neil rolls his hips against yours, drawing a moan from both of you that would fit perfectly on the set of a porno. Maybe you’re hamming it up a little to feed his ego. But that isn’t very hard to do when he fills you up so deliciously, making you wetter with every thrust.
You’re already starting to feel breathless when he slowly speeds up, drilling into your dripping pussy with even more fervor. Words are starting to become a little difficult, but you try your best anyway. “You’re better than him. SO much better –“
Your reward is a second smack – aimed at your chest this time.
“You’re damn right I am,” he groans, sucking another hickey into your skin and adding to the little necklace of bruises he’s been placing around your neck. “Suck these for me, will you?”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but it doesn’t last long when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, and you eagerly latch onto his digits, still faintly tasting yourself from earlier. You suck them down to the knuckle, running your tongue in between them in a way that makes him groan and pound your cunt even harder. Once his fingers are sufficiently coated in your saliva, he pulls them free from your lips and reaches between your legs to rub your clit.
The one leg you’ve been standing on threatens to give out immediately, but he holds you up with his other arm, and gently guides your hands into place to better support yourself on the desk. Neil nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing heavily against the shell of your ear.
“If you promise not to steal ever again, I might let you cum on my cock.”
His words are intercepted by quiet grunts and whimpers, and you find yourself agreeing pretty quickly, blabbering out promise after promise.
“I’ll never – never steal again! I swear, I swear, I swear, please! Please, please let me cum –!”
You’re almost not recognizing your own voice due to the desperately needy tone that’s laced through your pleading, but Neil doesn’t mind. Quite the opposite, really, because you can feel his thrusts picking up in intensity. He rewards your obedience by rubbing your clit a little faster, and you have to bite your knuckle as to not cry out his name. Fuck, it’s only noon and you’re approaching your release at breakneck speed.
“Fuck… I – I’m close,” you breathe, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. His teeth are back in your neck as he kisses and bites at your skin, and his voice sounds strained as he answers you.
“Go ahead… let go for me. If only your boyfriend knew, hm?”
That’s it. Your orgasm rips through you, and you let out a whine as you claw at the surface beneath you. Neil is generous enough to let you ride out your climax, but you can tell how impatient he is when he suddenly pulls out, swallowing heavily.
“On your back.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. It’s a little awkward, but you manage to scramble and reposition yourself, lying back against the desk and looking up at him with flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Neil is in the same state, licking his lips and swallowing dryly as he guides his cock back into your cunt, aided by his thumb on the base of his length.
“Fuck… how can you still be this tight? Shit, FUCK…” He’s cursing and muttering under his breath, having half a brain to readjust the still rolling camera as to not miss a single second. His hands guide your legs around his waist, and he leans over you, staring at you through blown out pupils that clash against the vibrant intensity of his ocean gaze. His pretty face is red, and sweat beads on his forehead, causing his hair to stick to his skin. Without thinking, you reach up to push it back, causing both of you to still for a second before Neil finds his tone again.
“M’gonna fill you up… and send you back home to your boyfriend with a creampie in that pretty cunt. Alright? Alright.”
You can only nod in response, hearing your own racing heartbeat in your ears along with his continued grunts and moans. His hands on you are gentle, but his thrusts definitely aren’t as he pounds you against the desk. Neil’s hips smack against yours, causing every novelty item around the two of you to tremble along to your feverish rhythm. You tilt your head back but he goes after you, finally capturing your lips in a hungry kiss that he’s been trying to hold back from the entire time. But now that he’s rapidly approaching his own climax, the self-restraint is completely out of the window.
Your tongues clash, and you moan into his mouth when his hands find yours, linking your fingers together. Neil’s lips faintly taste of iced coffee as he licks against your tongue, and your grip on his hands tightens when his movements start to become erratic.
Your lips stay locked the entire time, even as he lets out a guttural groan when he finishes inside of you, thrusting into you a few more times to push it in as deep as possible. Finally, he stills and pulls away from you, unable to resist stealing one last peck from your swollen lips. You’re still breathing heavily as his hands roam over your body once more, relishing the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. Now that he has material on you and you promised not to steal again, he’s gentle. Almost too gentle, and you have to clear your throat to snap him out of it.
Neil catches himself, blinking down at you with soft eyes while he wipes some sweat off his brow. There’s a subtle twitch in his lips that tells you that he’d love to keep touching you, but he’s aware of the setting you’re in. Almost reluctantly, he pulls out of you to let you retrieve your clothes. While you’re getting dressed, he checks the camera and stops the recording before he speaks up.
“You’re free to go, then. You know what happens if I catch you stealing again, right?”
The question prompts you to nod in response, and you mumble out a “yes” as you pull your top back over your head. Once Neil confiscates the VHS from your purse, you’re free to exit the store on trembling legs, cringing a little at the feeling of your combined fluids leaking into your underwear. But God, this heist was worth it.
INT. YOUR PLACE – LIVING ROOM – DAY
As expected, the house is quiet when you get home, and you let out a deep, satisfied sigh as you throw yourself onto the couch to decompress for a moment.
Not even 20 minutes pass until the front door opens, and you hear familiar footsteps. A lazy smile spreads over your face, and you sit up, watching you boyfriend as he kicks off his shoes and throws his jacket over the coat rack on the wall. He makes his way over, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, and your vision is filled by ocean eyes and faint freckles. Neil chuckles softly, placing the camera onto the coffee table before he sinks down on the couch next to you and pulls you close. “I’m glad Lucien agreed to take over the rest of the day.” You hum in agreement, closing your eyes when he brushes his fingers through your hair to massage your scalp.
“I think that was our best one yet.”
FIN.
tags: @ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24 @detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls (couldn't tag) @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411 @ashdrinksoatmilk @luvizuku @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines
#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis x you#neil lewis smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#watching the detectives#.moth writes
496 notes
·
View notes
Text
first date movies — neil lewis x reader
word count: 2.9k (oops this was….way longer than i thought)
contains: SMUT (18+ ONLY) —> fingering, oral (m receiving), public indecency (getting it on in a movie theater because…it’s neil), fluff, happy ending!
you have a crush on your coworker and you really wish you didn’t.
note: this has not been proofread so place excuse any typos! i hope you enjoy especially since this is my first smut fic on this account which is insane. also all of the movies referenced are some of my favorites so…..i’d absolutely recommend them if you haven’t seen them already! neil is my silly little movie buff husband and i’d absolutely LOVE to write for him again so please leave some feedback if you’d like more!
cillian taglist: @mortylover
As you stood on a step stool, shelving new video arrivals, you could hear Ingrid Bergman's lovely Swedish accent behind you.
Notorious. You'd seen it a million times but you'd never gotten sick of it. It was your favorite Hitchcock and often the movie you'd throw on if you were in need of comfort. Although it was your turn to pick what everyone watched at the video store today, you weren't sitting with everyone else on the big worn out sofa. You preferred to shelve and enjoy the sound of the movies in the background (maybe walking over when your favorite scene was on). After all, someone needed to help the customers even if you didn't have many.
You had an annoying habit of reciting movie lines that you loved, as did Neil, the owner of the store and one of your closest friends.
"This is a very strange love affair," you said with Ingrid as you placed Valley of the Dolls in its right place.
"Why?" Neil said right along with Cary Grant, glancing over at you.
"Maybe the fact that you don't love me," you shot him a dramatic look, trying to do your best Ingrid Bergman impression.
"Your Bergman should be better for someone who's seen this movie more times than she can count," he said.
You rolled your eyes.
"She's got a unique accent! Plus it's very transatlantic. That's hard."
"She can do the Fargo accent," your other coworker Jonathan pointed out, not bothering to look up from the TV.
"Oh, you betcha," you grinned, nailing the unmistakable Minnesotan "o" sound.
"That's not hard!" Neil protested.
"It's not easy!"
The doors jingled as your best friend walked through the door, cutting the discussion about accents short. Before you could even say anything she already had a request.
"First date movie. Help."
You thought for a minute.
"Well what's the person like?"
"I don't know! I haven't met him yet. This is a blind setup by a coworker thing."
"Do you....think you'll be paying attention to the movie?"
She made a face.
"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
"Not necessarily! You could be....talking."
After many failed dates with guys who were into film, you understood the complexities of picking the first date movie. It said a lot about a person — what they're into, how they feel, who they aspire to be. But at the end of the day, it needs to be something that can transition to being background noise for a good make out session while still being enjoyable. Very few movies check all of those boxes.
"Just don't give me anything too complicated, okay?" she sighed. "No Lynch. No Cronenberg."
You fake frowned. "I was just gonna rent Crash and Lost Highway to you as a double feature."
She shuddered as she remembered the horror that was watching both of those films. You could stomach things like that but she absolutely couldn't.
"Okay, sit tight. I have a thought," you said as you ran over to the romances.
Your friend wandered over to the TV while you hunted for her perfect first date movie.
"Hey guys," she said monotonously.
"Hey," they replied equally unenthused.
She stood and watched the movie for a minute before you came back holding Moonstruck.
"Cher. Nic Cage. Romantic. Easy to follow. It checks every box!"
"That's your idea of a first date movie?" Neil scoffed.
"What's yours? The Seventh Seal?" you rolled your eyes.
"Yeah, that's why Denise broke up with him," Jonathan replied.
"What? You didn't tell me that!"
"Well it kind of just happened," he said. "And to be honest I'm not so broken up about it."
After knowing Neil a while, you knew that he wasn't one for consistent steady girlfriends. Denise lasted longer than most, but in the end he always seemed to get bored. Sure, he got around to an extent, but it was hard for you to picture Neil Lewis truly settling down. Unless, of course, you pictured him with you — but you tried not to do that. The thought popped into your brain every once in a while but you pushed it out as soon as it arrived. You knew you'd only end up getting hurt.
"Okay, well that's good because I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. I mean, I'm all for a good ol' post breakup pity party but I'd much rather go see The Thing on the big screen tonight."
You and Neil did your part to keep your local independent theater in business more than anyone else in town. It was a regular thing for the two of you to go see at least two movies a week, sometimes more. Sometimes Jonathan and Lucien would tag along and sometimes it was just the two of you — every time you secretly hoped that it would be just the two of you.
"Now that's a good first date movie," Jonathan said.
"The Thing for a first date?" you scrunched your nose into a face of disapproval. "You guys have no taste."
"Well good thing we're not going on a first date then," Neil said. "But yeah, I'll go with you, I'm not doing anything else. Wanna grab dinner and go straight there?"
Those words shouldn't have been such a dagger to you but they were. No shit, this wasn't a first date. He didn't need to remind you.
"Yeah, that's fine," you said, trying to mask the disappointment in your voice. "I just have a few more things to finish up here and then we can head out."
You helped your friend rent her movie and finished up your shelving duties with a little less pep in your step than usual as Neil's words played over and over again in your mind like a broken record.
Good thing we're not going on a first date then. Fuck him. It's not like he was trying to hurt you, after all he didn't know that you maybe kinda sorta liked him. But those words.....you just couldn't take your mind off of them as you mentally prepared yourself for your very clearly stated non-date.
—
A little diner by the local theater had been your spot with Neil for as long as you'd been coworkers. It had become a tradition of yours to sneak in mini bottles of booze to pour into the milkshakes, either on celebratory or wallowing in your sorrows occasions. Neil's breakup felt like a good excuse to give your shared vanilla shake deserved an extra kick, even if you were the one who really needed it.
"Is anyone looking?"
He shook his head as you poured the vodka into the glass, stirring the concoction with the straw. You didn't wait for Neil before placing your lips to the straw and downing a quarter of it all at once.
"Hey, take it easy. I thought I was the one who needed the alcohol tonight," he chuckled.
"You said it yourself, you're not upset about Denise," you said, the irritation in your voice shining through.
"Are you upset about something, then? I'm sorry I didn't really help you shelve today, I just- you know, you like to do that stuff by yourself sometimes. And you picked such a good movie I couldn't tear myself away from the screen."
It would've been easier if you had really been upset about that. You wished that you were upset about that And now half the shake was gone, everything you wanted to say was rushing to your head, and you didn't even think about what you were doing when you blurted out:
"Why can't this be a first date?"
His eyes widened as he let out a small chuckle, assuming you were kidding.
"What?"
"You heard me. Why can't this be a first date?"
As he stared back at you, you felt like you had just fucked everything up. This amazing friendship was just ruined now because you drank your boozy milkshake too fast.
"Do....do you want it to be?" he asked.
"Fuck!" you exclaimed before burying your head in your hands. "Forget I said anything. I-I drank that too fast."
"No, I....we can call this a date if you want. In fact I'd really like that."
He wasn't trying to humor you and he wasn't trying to make the situation better by saying something that he didn't mean — he was dead serious.
"Neil, don't say that if you don't mean it," you sighed. "I'm just....upset today. Don't listen to me."
He studied your face for a minute before speaking again.
"Do you remember when I interviewed you for your job?"
"Now what does that have to do with anything?"
You did, in fact, remember your Gumshoe interview very well. You had asked him if he'd ever considered doing a film noir themed commercial for the store and you'd never seen someone so excited about an idea before — you always assumed that was why you had gotten the job.
"I knew you before that, you know," he said. "I remembered you from when you used to be a customer. There was actually this one time when you had an overdue fee and I paid it for you and told the guys that I had lost the tape."
This made you smile a bit.
"Point being?"
He took a deep breath before he continued on.
"Normally when we do the interview process, we ask the same shit, you know? What's your favorite movie? Who's your favorite director? And I asked you that stuff even though I thought I already knew the answers, I remembered what you used to rent. I thought I knew you so well and then you just went totally fucking wildcard on me — and I loved it. Ever since then you've kept on surprising me and I....well, I really like that. I guess what I'm trying to say is I really like you. And I think I always have."
You stared at him wide-eyed. You had not expected your little drunken tantrum to get you a confession of feelings.
"Neil....do you know why I rented from Gumshoe all the time? I mean, I'm all for supporting the little guys, but I really went in to see you. And then I got this job and I got to know you and you weren't just the cute guy at the video store anymore, you were like....my cute friend/boss technically but I won't get into that. But I got to know you and I watched you go through all of these relationships because you get bored eventually and....I just think you might get bored with me. I'm no Katharine Ross in Butch and Sundance."
He shook his head as a smile crept across his lips.
"No, you're even more exciting than that. You're like...Barbarella or something. Queen of the galaxy."
"Barbarella's whole thing was sex appeal," you point out. "That's the whole movie."
"Sex appeal, sure. But she's also kind and interesting and witty. You've got all of that."
You took all of that as a compliment but you found yourself blushing at his mention of sex appeal.
—
When you arrived to the movie theater after finishing your meal, it seemed that you two were the only ones dying to see a John Carpenter flick on a Tuesday evening. You had your pick of seats in the empty theater.
Your non-date turned date couldn't have been going better, honestly, it made you think that you should turn to drinking more often. It fixed this problem miraculously well.
As you settled into your seats and the lights dimmed, it was clear that both of you wanted to make a move but didn't know how to do it. After all, you couldn't just go straight for unzipping his fly. Or could you? Tonight was all about confidence and he clearly liked it when you kept him on his toes. You decided to start slow, resting a hand on his thigh, letting your hand wander from there.
He looked over at you as you made contact with the bulge in his jeans. It was hard to read his expression in the dark, but you could feel that he didn't want you to stop.
"Are we really gonna do this here?" he whispered.
"We've both seen this a thousand times, I think it'll be okay if we get a little distracted," you whisper back. "U-unless you don't want—"
He cut you off with a kiss that was a long time coming. You were surprised by the sheer force of it as your tongues collided. His hand reached up to cup the side of your face as you melted into the kiss, illuminated by the glow of the silver screen. He made you feel dizzy, but in a good way.
Now, you had never been intimate in a movie theater before, but it was even more exhilarating than you could’ve imagined. As you slowly unzipped his fly, taking his length out of his jeans, you noticed that Neil wasn’t watching the movie at all. His eyes were completely focused on you.
“You’re really taking your time, aren’t you?” he whispered. He was rock hard already and you could tell that he was getting incredibly impatient. You held the base of him while you teased his tip with your tongue. Whatever composure he thought he had went out the window as he his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Based on his breathing patterns you thought he was going to come right then.
“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. “Just….just like that.”
You could feel him trembling as your tongue continued to work its swirly magic. Eventually you began to take him in your mouth completely, greeting him with the warm sensation of the back of your throat. He groaned out your name in a raspy whisper as you bobbed your head on his length. Before you knew it, you could feel a hand on your head guiding it along — his touch felt so intimate and loving, you couldn’t get enough.
“I-I’m close….I’m— fuck….I’m gonna—“
Before he could finish what he was going to say, you could feel his come coat the back of your throat. It was a warm, welcome feeling and you couldn’t wait to feel it again.
“Jesus christ,” he sat there catching his breath before turning to you. “That was….wow. You’re just…..I-Incredible.”
You smiled at the praise. It wasn’t even day that you were complimented on your blowjob skills.
Your head made its way to his shoulder as you sat side by side watching the movie. His hand began on your though but slowly because to creep it’s way up between your legs.
“Returning the favor?” you whispered, smiling softly as you glanced in his direction.
He nodded, speaking in a sultry whisper that nearly made your legs shake. “You know, you just made me feel so good….it would be a crime not to reciprocate it, don’t you think?”
You continued to rest your head on his shoulder as he slipped two fingers inside of you. You couldn’t help but notice how easily they went in — you had been soaked for hours.
“All this for me?” he chuckled. “How long have you been like this?”
“All night,” you said in between heavy breaths. “I-I’m always like this around you, Neil.”
“No way, are you really?”
His switch up from the sultry whisper to his excited tone made you giggle.
“I have….a tendency to daydream about you when I’m around you,” you explained.
His fingers found just the right spot as he continued to question you. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to talk.
“Daydream about what specifically?”
A small whimper escaped your mouth as his fingers curled inside of you. You couldn’t even recall what you used to daydream about until it hit you.
“This…..this exact moment. I-I’ve….fuck….Ive daydreamed about this a m-million times.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked as he started to pump his fingers faster. “And how does it end?”
“I- Neil- I’m gonna—“
“How does it end, sweet girl? Tell me.”
You could barely even answer in between heavy breaths but you managed to speak up, your words intertwined with your moans.
“Y-you make….you make me come, N-Neil! I’m….right now, I’m—“
“Show me. Come for me. Show me how the daydream ends.”
And you did, trying your best to keep quiet as you came undone. You buried your face into his shoulder as you whimpered and throbbed against his fingers.
“Good girl,” he exhaled. “That’s a good girl.”
—
The next day at work, you and Neil debated what you should tell the others. To announce the relationship or keep it a secret was a heavily debated topic, but you eventually settled on keeping it to yourselves for a while before revealing it. You thought it would be nice to have something that was just yours for a while. Plus, hiding a relationship can be incredibly sexy.
As you walked into Gumshoe, you flashed a quick smile at Neil who was in his usual spot behind the counter before taking your place at the shelf.
“Hey, Jonathan,” you called over to the couch, getting his attention. “I was totally wrong. Upon my rewatch, I think that The Thing would be a great first date movie.”
“See, I told you! I told you and you never fucking listen to me,” he said. “What made you change your mind?”
You glanced over at Neil one more time. It was clear that he was thinking about last night just as much as you were.
“I don’t know…” you shrugged. “Maybe it’s Kurt Russell.”
#cillian murphy x reader#neil lewis x reader#cillian murphy smut#I HOPE YOU ENJOY MY DARLINGS!! mwah!!!
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.
pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader
summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…
warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 5.3k
a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭
Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films.
Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down.
Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since.
The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job.
You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before.
As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”
Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“
“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face.
Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air.
“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”
He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow.
My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?
After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left.
Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again.
You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films.
In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”
Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”
“Her who?”
“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!”
Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”
“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously.
Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him.
“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly.
Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence.
You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant.
He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open.
From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies.
He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies.
You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it.
But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again.
This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.
Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them.
And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant.
Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door.
Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.
“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What -- the hell are you doing here?”
“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time.
If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”
“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.
You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity.
“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work.
Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.”
“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more.
And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.
Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you.
“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you.
“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”
“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”
You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”
Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him.
“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim.
Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive.
“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply.
On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off.
“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch.
“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”
So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants.
He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas.
The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy.
However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him.
Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on.
So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing.
“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day.
Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”
Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?”
You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”
He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh.
“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”
Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“
You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”
“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck.
Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started—
“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.”
You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register.
“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time.
You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass.
Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer.
“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him.
Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.
Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth.
You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled.
“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“
Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”
Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you.
Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching.
Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch.
“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”
Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“
“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”
Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin.
He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release.
But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him.
You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”
Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.”
You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”
He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you.
Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust.
Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch.
He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips.
“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin.
“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings.
“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”
“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.
Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail.
Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl.
After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole.
Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better.
“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing.
You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.”
Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly.
He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure.
“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you.
Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you.
“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit.
The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet.
You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter.
You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too.
You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”
“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go.
You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed.
“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again.
“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable.
You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole.
“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately.
His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously.
You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.
“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”
“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you.
You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex.
This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.
Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…”
He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right.
You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly.
“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice.
“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length.
“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”
“I’m even better, baby.”
#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#neil lewis x reader#watching the detectives#neil lewis smut#sub!neil lewis x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Stay
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Neil Lewis x reader
Summary | Your best friend drives you home from a party.
Warnings | Smut, non con, somno?, drunk sex, lowkey passed out sex, oral, breeding, degradation, praise, misogyny, incel Neil lol, cheating?, prone bone hehe.
Words | 1.9 k
Notes | sigh
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
“Okay— jesus…” Neil struggled to hold you up as you stumbled into your house. “Be careful.”
“Couch.” You ordered, the word coming out a little slurred because of all the alcohol. You brought him to a party that your boyfriend invited you to. When the bastard decided he wanted to stay longer and enjoy the party, Neil offered to drive you home.
“Almost there.” He chuckled, helping you to the living room and gently setting you on the couch. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to your bed to sleep?” You shook your head with a small smile, your eyes barely able to stay open. “Okay… Call me when you wake up, alright?” When you heard his footsteps, you whined and grabbed his hand.
“No. Stay.” He looked around awkwardly, making you pout. “Please?” After very little debate, he sat down next to you on the couch. “Mm… you’re the best.” You mumbled, practically grinning. He sighed quietly when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and rested your head on him, knowing he was going to be here a while. Trying not to jostle you too much, he relaxed back into the couch in a more comfortable position.
When you suddenly laid down with your head on his stomach, his body went completely stiff. His gaze shifted to your face, taking in the way your hair was a little messy and sprawled out over your cheek, then it moved down your body. You curled up on your side to get more comfortable and the motion had your bodycon dress riding up your legs, exposing even more of you.
You never used to dress like this when you were younger. Whenever you and Neil would go to a party, your dress would be long enough to safely cover your ass, but still reveal enough of your thighs to be appropriate for the occasion. It also wouldn’t be skin tight. But ever since you’ve been dating that douche bag, you’ve started to dress more provocatively. He can’t exactly complain because he definitely enjoys seeing you in clothes like this… He just wishes you were dressing this way for him.
He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes when his cock twitched in his pants. Now is not the time to get hard… Isn’t it though? You were basically passed out, you wouldn't know…
“Are you awake?” He whispered. When he got no response, he carefully reached for his pants and began opening them to free his cock. You didn’t stir as he started stroking slowly, trying not to move too much. He could just barely feel your panting breaths against his cock and he ached to know how warm and wet your mouth would feel around him.
Getting bolder, he rubbed the head on your lips, smearing precum over the faded lipstick. Everything about you was just so perfect and so fucking hot. He could barely take it.
“Jake?” You mumbled, trying to turn your head to look up at him, but he gently pushed you back so you were only looking at his cock. You thought he was your boyfriend? Even though that kind of upset him… he knew he’d feel better about it soon.
“Yeah, it’s me.” He whispered and you hummed in acknowledgment. “Open your mouth, baby.” Your lips parted lazily and he pushed his length in, trying not to moan too loud at the feeling. Even though you were half asleep, you were mouthing at the tip of his cock and flicking your tongue over it. “Good girl…” He groaned quietly.
“Suck it, baby. Come on.” He encouraged, making you whine, but start bobbing your head a little. “Fuck…” He hissed, letting go of his cock to let you do the work, wondering if you’re always this easy…
Wanting more, he slowly dragged his hand down your side, from your waist, past your hip, all the way to your bare thigh. When his hand went back up, he took the fabric of your dress with it, pulling until it was bunched around your stomach. His hips flinched up at the sight of your lacy thong, making you choke a little.
“God- you’re so fucking hot.” He moaned, quickly reaching up to pull your dress down below your tits to expose the matching bra. He could only see some of it because of the angle you were at, but it still drove him wild.
You whined and started pulling off, but he quickly placed a hand on your head and pushed you back down. “No..” You tried to say, voice coming out muffled around his cock.
“Shh… take it, baby. It’s Jake, remember?” Getting too desperate, he started pushing you down repeatedly, slowly fucking your mouth until you were choking and sputtering. “I’m so close.. Just a little longer.” He said through a breath, moving you a little faster now. With one hand on your head, he moved the other down to grope your tits through the lace bra, forcing a muffled sound from you.
“So fucking sexy— oh my god. And this ass…” He groaned, moving his hand down to squeeze your ass instead. He spanked you teasingly, making you whimper around his cock. “Take it bitch.” He spanked you again even harder and moaned at the way your muffled sounds made your mouth just barely vibrate around his cock.
“Such a fucking tease wearing this dress… laying down with your face on my cock, just begging me to fuck your mouth. I bet this cunt is soaked too.” He snickered, reaching around to the front of your body and cupping your heat, cursing loudly when he felt the wet patch on your panties. “You’re a real whore, aren’t you? Are you gonna swallow all my come like a good little slut?” His voice was getting progressively breathier as he neared his orgasm.
“…Or should I come in your cunt instead?” He chuckled, hand slowing to a stop, keeping you pressed down with your lips almost at the base. You choked and whimpered as he thought about it, but it didn’t take much convincing.
He pulled you off of him, then stood up and pushed you down into the couch on your stomach. Once you were positioned the way he wanted, he quickly mounted you and slipped your panties to the side. When you groaned quietly and tried to turn around to see what was happening, he put his hand on the back of your head and shoved your face into the cushion, holding you there. He didn’t waste anymore time lining up and pushing forward.
You let out a strangled whimper when he finally breached your entrance, forcing his cock all the way in your tight little cunt. He moaned loudly, trying to stave off his orgasm so he could at least have a chance to fuck you.
“Oh my god…” He whined, leaning over your body and laying down on top of you before releasing your head. “So fucking tight.. Does your boyfriend not satisfy you?” He cooed mockingly. “Is that why your cunt feels brand new?” He started bucking his hips, keeping his thrusts deep.
“Let me feel these tits.” He said through a breath, then lifted you up a little so he could pull your bra down and grope your bare tits, making you whine. He rolled your nipples between his fingers, pinching and pulling teasingly. “Fucking perfect.” He hissed, letting his head drop down on your shoulder. He inhaled deeply, feeling his cock twitch at the scent of your hair and your faint perfume. You moaned quietly and just barely started to squirm, making him shush you and use more of his body weight to pin you down.
“W-what…” You could barely even speak, but he still moved one hand up to cover your mouth, not wanting to hear you protest. When he sped up and got a little rougher, you were grunting and whimpering behind his hand each time his cock plunged deep in your little pussy.
“Good girl... Take my fucking cock, bitch. I deserve to fuck this cunt after putting up with your teasing for so long.” He hissed bitterly. You’ve been friends for years now and he’s so fucking sick of jerking off just to the thought of you.
You mewled and tried pulling his hand away from your face, but he wouldn’t budge. He started fucking you faster, pounding your abused hole, only caring about his impending orgasm.
“I might have to get you shit faced more often.” He chuckled. The best part about all of this is probably the fact that you won’t even remember any of it. If you did, you’d just think it was a dream since your best friend— the guy you trust more than everyone else— would never do something like this…
“Am I gonna be the first guy to breed this little pussy?” He knows you always make boyfriends and hookups wear condoms, you’ve told him that before. You were probably just saving yourself for him…
By now your hand fell back down to the couch, giving up on trying to pull him away. The only sign that you were even conscious were the little grunts being forced out of you with each thrust. Next time, he’ll have to do this in the dark so he can suck on your tits and maybe even kiss you— you’re probably such a good kisser. Your lips are always so pink and soft… always so pretty.
“Fuck… I’m gonna come.” He choked out, releasing your mouth to wrap his arms around your upper body, hugging you tightly so you couldn’t escape, even though his body weight was doing a good enough job at that already. “And you’re gonna take it, bitch.” He growled against your ear. You whimpered quietly and your body was rocking with the force of his thrusts— everything about you was bringing him closer to release.
“Ready, baby? Ready for my come?” He breathed, hips bucking into you frantically as he neared the edge, then finally fell over it. He groaned loudly and forced his cock all the way in, pressing firmly against your cervix. You whined in discomfort and squirmed a little, but his hold on you got even tighter. He was grunting and moaning next to your ear, his cock twitching with each rope of come that shot out from his cock. “Stupid fucking slut.” His hips snapped into you to punctuate the insult, forcing a pained whimper from you. “Take it. Take my fucking come in this needy little pussy.” He groaned, feeling his orgasm start to fade.
“Fuck…” He breathed, only relaxing his hold on you once his cock stopped twitching. “Keep being a tease and we’re gonna do this again.” He warned, but you didn’t respond or make any indication that you heard or understood him.
Letting out a heavy breath, he finally stopped panting, then pulled your bra and dress back into place before leaning up on his knees. You laid completely limp underneath him, even as he spread your ass cheeks apart and dragged his cock out. He shuffled back a little, then leaned down so he could watch his come trickle out of your gaping hole. He pushed it back in with his fingers and cursed under his breath, then fixed your underwear and stuffed his cock back in his pants.
Once all other evidence of this besides his come was gone, he stood up and looked down at you with a small smirk. He didn’t know it was possible for someone to look so peaceful after being fucked like a cheap whore, but you’ve always been an enigma to him.
418 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Want You to Want Me
Pairing: Neil Lewis x F!Reader
Fandom: Watching the Detectives
Summary: Neil receives a frantic call and finds you outside of Gumshoe after a date night gone wrong. Secretly habouring feelings for you ever since the two of you met, he finds you oddly irresistable in your tears and torn fishnets.
Warnings: SMUT, mutual pining, dub-con touching, dryhumping, riding, foreplay, teasing, begging (m), masturbation (m), clothed sex (semi), Neil being a wet paper towel, so just Neil being Neil, pervy Neil, switch!Neil, slight dom but mostly sub!Neil because c'mon guys it's NEIL, slight dom!reader, body worship, public sex (technically?), premature ejaculation (sort of?), angst, some fluff? by my standards anyway lol so take that with a grain of salt -- this ended up being more wholesome than I thought it would be
Inspired by this cover of I Want You To Want Me (the reader's song) and Creep (Neil's song) by Radiohead.
Huge thanks to @your-nanas-house for getting me started with a prompt for this and cheering me on!
Totally nicked the "jock boyfriend" inspo from @cillianmesoftlyyy's fic here; go check that out if you want more spicy Neil content, because it was fantastic!
And thank you and also fuck you to @rysko for dramatically beta reading this in my ear WHILE I WAS TRYING TO MAKE THE HEADER
And now that I'm done thanking every fic writer on tumblr, my parents, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Birds, and Saturn and all of its rings, enjoy your filth!
WC: 4239
He found you outside the back door of Gumshoe, huddled against the concrete step, the cool air of the spring night nipping at the wet tears that streaked your cheeks, the slight breeze stirring a shiver from one fretful limb to the next. The whites of your eyes burned red beneath the faint glow of the lanterns atop the neighbour’s picket fence. It wasn’t exactly the most incognito place to cry your eyes out, but you didn’t have a key to Neil’s store, and it was nearly three in the morning.
“Hey, I got your call. What’s going on?” A familiar voice broke the pitiful sounds of your sobbing, and the tension of your shoulders eased if only slightly at the mere sound.
You tried to answer past your sobs, but found that your words came only in hiccups, in broken fragments of your splintered heart, and it didn’t take long for him to sweep an arm around your shoulders, lowering himself to sit beside you on the cold step. Instinctively, you found yourself leaning into his touch, trembling against the warmth of his body.
Neil was never really great at these sorts of things to begin with, but it certainly didn’t help that his attention was drawn to the low-cut top where a tear streaked down the groove of your breasts, to the fishnets that you’d torn on your way out the door of your boyfriend’s, to the short skirt that rode up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace hem of your panties.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and he tried to keep his eyes on the face you so desperately tried to hide with your trembling fingers, for you were ashamed of your unkempt appearance. You must’ve looked like a cheap whore – a mess of one, no less. You couldn’t tell what was more embarrassing: the way you were dressed, like you were begging for attention, or the way your emotions seized you so cruelly that you could scarcely breathe.
“Hey.” His warm, careful touch landed on your wrist, and as you pulled your fingers from your lashes, they came away black with smudged mascara. “I’m here,” your friend said. “Tell me what happened.”
You could still only speak in hiccups and broken vowels.
“Shhh,” Neil soothed you, fingers running up and down your spine, sending tiny shivers through each nerve as the fabric of your shirt bunched and his skin brushed yours. “Shhh. I’m here.”
Resting your head on his shoulder, your hair spilled in sticky threads over the jacket that, judging by the slight musty scent that lingered in the weave of the corduroy, had probably missed one too many washes. But you didn’t care. You’d come to appreciate the little imperfections about him, the details of his scent that made Neil Neil. Like the waxy tinge that seemed to always cling to his fingers after a long shift of rolling back tapes. Like the silk cream and smoke of the vanilla candle you’d gifted him last week. Like the artificial scent of cheap shaving cream and the slightest hint of blood where he’d nicked himself with the razor. The musk of his sweat and skin, buried beneath all these little things that you’d come to know almost as intimately as your own.
But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. And its unfamiliarity unnerved you.
His other hand came to rest on your knee, hot as fire in the cold of night. He thumbed at the tear in your fishnets and looked at you with bright, concerned eyes, but he used this as an excuse to touch you.
“Did he hurt you?” Neil asked. His hand stayed on your knee. In a way, it felt comforting; it grounded you enough so that, finally, after lulled by the rise and fall of his shoulder and the unique blend of his scent, you could speak.
“Is that cologne?” You wrinkled your nose and drew back to look him in the eye, your tangled hair peeling reluctantly from his corduroy jacket.
A rose blush came upon Neil’s cheeks, and he smiled nervously. He’d been sure to spritz himself with a good helping of it before he left, despite his hurried state. He needed to impress you; ever since you’d started dating that jock from across the street, he’d been trying to find more ways to steal your attention back.
“Yeah, it’s new,” he said, a little flustered, in a way that made your stomach flutter. “I wanted to ask for your opinion on what I should get, but you – well…” His voice cracked a bit as a hint of sadness crept into his tone. “… you’ve been pretty busy lately.”
“It’s awful,” you told him, laughing slightly, and your words seemed to cheer him up; his lips tugged into that playful grin of his again, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his throat.
And then you both fell into silence, and he looked back to your knee, still thumbing the skin where the fabric had torn.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Neil said.
You swallowed, another lump forming in your throat, and when you looked at him, bottom lip in your teeth, reddened eyes pouting, rimmed by your messed mascara, his heart sped in his chest in both fear and arousal. The thought of James even touching you boiled his blood, made his skin crawl and tightened a noose round his neck, but seeing you like this, baring your soul to him with those tear-brimmed eyes and mournfully upturned brows, it made him want you even more.
If he’d been the one to take you out tonight, he would’ve brought you home to his bed, worshipped each inch of your hallowed skin and made love to you like you were the only woman in the world, splayed his fingers across your thighs and parted them like a sea, dropped to his knees and prayed with the hungered strokes of his tongue and lapped at your holy waters.
He’d started reading poetry lately. It had felt right; it was the only thing that seemed to express just how he felt about you. Echoed the words in private like they were gospel; chanted your name from desperate lips as he palmed himself each night – and morning – to your photographs, to the vanilla of the candle that reminded him so much of you, to the fantasy of your sweat-slicked thighs wrapped around his waist, your walls clenched around him as he bucked his hips against your weight and finally let himself go, spilling himself inside you and hearing you moan so sweetly for him from those heavenly lips, feeling his own cum dampen his stomach as you collapsed over him. He always knew you’d be so tight, that you’d fit so perfect around him.
But sitting here, staring at your shivering, impotent form in your torn fishnets and your skimpy attire, he could barely contain the urge to tear open your knees and fuck you against the concrete. It had been so long since he’d even been this close to you; James took up all of your time nowadays, and gone were the late movie nights and stolen games of basketball on the breaks he took so liberally.
He missed you. So much.
And you knew it. You knew it, deep in your chest where the remnants of your heart twisted, still hearing the words, “You’ve been pretty busy lately.”
You shook your head, choking out another sob as shame crept along your skin, and you shivered at its grotesque touch. “No, he didn’t hurt me… not – not in that way.”
You couldn’t look at him; his pearlescent blue eyes and his sun-kissed freckles and his boyish brown locks all fading into memory as you buried your face in his chest, inhaling once more the faint scent of his laundry detergent and the musk of him beneath the shirt that was flipped inside-out but still outlined the blatant logo of Back to the Future. Whether he hadn’t realised he’d put it on backwards or he’d been shy about it, you couldn’t be sure, but it lightened your heart all the same, your sobs turning to giggles.
Neil pulled you closer, his chin resting along the nape of your neck and his hand running up your thigh; you barely noticed how near his hand was to your panties as you tugged at his shirt, nails sinking past the fabric as if to keep him and never let him go.
You regretted all that time you’d spent with James, when you should have been spending it with him instead. Everything felt so much easier with him; your smiles were broader, your laughter more carefree.
But you wanted more – selfish and lovesick, you wanted more than what he already gave you. You needed more than his attention and his friendship.
You needed him to want you.
“I thought that…” You sniffled. “… I thought that James wanted me. I dressed up all… nice… fucking whorish… and I thought tonight was finally the night and that he would’ve… that he would’ve…”
The words twisted in your throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Two hours ago, when you did up your makeup and clothes for your date with James, you’d felt sexy. Powerful, even.
Now, you just felt worthless.
Neil nestled his nose in the crook of your neck, brushed the silk strands of your hair aside, breathed your scent in so deeply that for a moment, the butterflies came back to the pit of your stomach.
“I just want to be wanted,” you admitted, losing it, sobbing uncontrollably into the now-damp shirt that clung to his thin frame. “I just want to be desired. That was the only reason I was with him, Neil. The way he looked at me that day when he came into the store, I…”
With a bitter pang in his chest, Neil remembered that day. The way James had looked at you like you were a piece of meat. The way he’d asked you if had any recommendations on which sports film he should rent and Neil had practically wedged himself between the two of you and started chattering to James about every little piece of trivia he knew about Chariots of Fire and Rocky. How, despite his efforts, James had still gone home with your number as well as the tapes. How you’d come in the next morning with a hickey on your neck and Neil had just known that where James had paused one of the tapes was when your movie night was likely cut short by… things he’d rather not think about ever again.
It should’ve been his couch you’d been curled up on, should’ve been him watching the movie with you. His mark on your neck.
And he would’ve picked something a little more fitting for the mood, too. Something more like Casablanca or Sin City. It was as if James didn’t even have to try to get you drooling over him. What was so special about him, anyway?
I wish I was special, Neil thought.
Neil’s grip on you tightened at the memory, nails digging in to the flesh of your thigh in a way that stirred a little gasp from your lungs, huffing against his collarbone as you tilted your head up to look at him.
“Y/N.” His breath caught in his throat, and he reluctantly pulled from your neck to look you in the eye, locks of messy hair falling across his forehead and his eyes half-lidded. His fingers ghosted up your thigh, and you blinked past the sharp mint of his mouthwash – it burned your eyes slightly, but you didn’t care. You were so close to him, your breaths became one, a few threads of his hair tickling your cheeks and his nose brushing yours.
“Neil,” you breathed, the slightest of smiles tugging at your lip as your heart thudded between your legs, dangerously close to his fingers. Warmth spread across each fevered limb, taking you somewhere past the cold concrete and bitter chill of the wind, somewhere away from the graffiti-painted alley and the reek of broken booze bottles. Somewhere safe, and warm, and thrilling all at once.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Neil’s voice cracked around the words, a nervous laugh huffing against your fluttering lashes as his freckled cheeks darkened another shade of red. The hand that wasn’t between your legs played with a lock of your hair, twirling it in his finger but still supporting you beneath a quivering arm.
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe this was real.
He had to have been playing some sick joke, right?
But the whimper that fell from his lips was very real, as his nails dug into your flesh again and he tugged you closer, his hips arching upward against your outer thigh.
“You look more than nice. You’re so fucking hot in this skirt, in anything you wear. That asshole is fucking blind,” he breathed, fingers grazing your panties and landing over your hipbone, testing the waters more and more as he tried not to rock his growing arousal too obviously against you.
But you noticed. You noticed the way his cock hardened and twitched beneath your weight; you noticed how even despite his body trembling from his attempts to resist his primal urges, his hips still gave little bucks upward, seeking friction. Seeking the heat that flared between your thighs, that ached for him so desperately that it was all you could do not to return the favour.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Staring into those gorgeous, bright eyes. Looking up at him with anything but innocence. So he scooped both hands around your ass, squeezing the flesh and lace and tugging you properly onto his lap with an alluring squeal tearing from your full lips.
“I want you, Y/N.” His hot breath pooled at your collarbone as he trailed wet, sloppy kisses along your jaw, your neck, and your lips parted in another gasp, back arching and thighs clenching around his waist as you ground wet panties against the bulge in his trousers.
“I fucking need you,” he whined, nipping like a needy puppy at the delicate skin of your neck. “Always have.” Another kiss. “Ever since I first saw you. Long before James.” A possessive growl stirred from his throat at that, the flare of dominance sending a jolt through your core.
“Neil, I – oh my God.” A moan broke your words as his fingers moved up your spine and his teeth grazed your collarbone, hovering over your pulse point.
“Fuck, baby. Say that again. Just like that.” His fingers began rolling your shirt up over the lip of your breasts, the sight enough to make him whine again in need. He couldn’t help himself from groping you, squeezing your breasts and rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Bending his neck to trail more sloppy kisses down your torso, they were his next destination.
“Oh my – Neil. Neil, I – “ You had so much to tell him, so much you needed off your chest, but his hips bucked sharply against you at the sound of his name moaned so beautifully, a low groan in his throat and his cock digging slightly inside your heat, the fabric of your panties scraping almost painfully against your walls.
“Please, Y/N, please don’t make me stop. Please let me keep touching you like this. I wanna worship you.” His hot breath shattered against a pert nipple. “Wanna fucking prove to you how much I want you.”
For a few moments, you were rendered speechless, mind whirring like the wheels on a VHS. Everything was happening so fast, and the warmth of his touch was seeping into you like honey, inundating you in a sort of comforting flame.
He could almost smell the vanilla of the candle wick burning.
You left nail marks down his chest where you clawed at the collar of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He sucked a nipple past his teeth and moaned around the taste of you, the sound so filthy that your eyes nearly rolled back in your skull as your parted lips tipped to the heavens. His name outlined by their perfect shape.
Reality came crashing down around you as you jumped, another squeal leaving your tongue as his teeth bit at your nipple and pain shot along your nerve endings.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, chest heaving, looking up at you with reverent eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I – “
You cupped his chin in your palm and shook your head. “No, Neil. I’m sorry.” A tear streaked down your cheek, beaded on your jawline. “I’m so, so sorry.” You were beginning to sob again, and his brow furrowed in concern, thumb beginning to trace small circles along your spine. “I’m sorry I abandoned you for James, I didn’t… I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know you felt this way, I – I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he told you, his words sinking into your skin like a warm tide. With one hand, he brushed the tear from your jaw and wove his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer. “Just let me keep touching you. Please.”
When you didn’t respond for a moment, caught up in the way his blue eyes seemed to hollow with a certain hunger, the way his chest rose and fell beneath the bare flesh of your stomach, he uttered that word again:
“Please.”
You smiled, elated and giddy with joy, blood pounding with arousal, and kissed him, threading your own fingers into the fluffy locks of his hair.
Another tear streaked across your lips as they met his, and you tasted like salt and vanilla, slightly waxy from your chap-stick but the sweetest thing he’d tasted nonetheless. At first, he was embarrassed by the noises he made, the way he’d accidentally called you “baby” because he’d always wanted to do so, but he melted beneath you like butter. Nothing mattered anymore except the fact that you were finally his, that you were in his arms and grinding against his cock.
Neil broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside somewhere on the concrete – he would buy you a new one. His hands flattened against your back and pulled you flush to his chest, taking any excuse he could to hear that little squeal you made each time.
“Please, baby, please let me be inside you,” he whined, biting his lip as he stared up at you with those powder-blue eyes. Nails dug into your skin. Hips bucked against yours.
Your heart soared with his words, his worship, his want; you’d never been this ecstatic in your whole life. Part of you wanted to keep teasing him, make him beg, while another part of you ached to feel him buried to the hilt inside you.
“Patience, Neil,” you giggled, as you undid his trousers. You worked them down to his knees and your eyes widened as your hand brushed his cock, bare and springing flush against his stomach. You hadn’t expected him to not wear boxers.
Neil smiled sheepishly up at you, eyes still lidded, mouth still panting out a fevered breath. “I was in a rush getting dressed. I…” His cheeks reddened, and there was something so cute about how pathetic he looked in that moment. “You wanna know how much I want you, Y/N? I was touching myself thinking of you when you called.”
Creep, some voice in the back of his head hissed.
You bit your lip to suppress a moan, trying to ward off thoughts of Neil stroking himself to you, finishing to the thought of you. Oh, how you wished you could have witnessed the sight.
“Did you come?” you asked, a devious grin pulling at your lips as you took him in your hand, massaging a bead of pre-cum into his sensitive flesh.
His eyes fluttered, and he shook his head, his words coming out as a breathy whine,
“No, I promise. I didn’t come. Not yet.”
“Will you?” You dipped your head to let your words tickle his neck, your grip on him tightening.
“Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, yes, oh God, I will. Fuck, baby. Fuck, gonna come if you don’t stop that, need to come inside you, please, please…”
His mutterings trailed off into a low hiss of a whine, and your movements stilled, dragging him to his peak and letting him teeter at the edge as you both caught your breaths, chest heaving and a cold chill racing down your sweat-slicked back, thighs trembling around him.
“You sure you can handle this?” you purred against his ear before pulling back once more to witness the shivering mess you’d made him, priding yourself in your accomplishment. Lining his cock up with your entrance, the fabric of your panties scraped his tip teasingly as you slotted them to the side.
Neil looked up at you like you were some kind of goddess, his breathing coming laboured, his throat stripped of words. The dazed, blissful look he gave you was all the answer you needed. But you wanted to reap him of every last praise he had.
“Use your words, Neil,” you giggled, smirking.
“Ah…” His lips parted, near soundless. You watched intently as they formed the word “Please”.
You almost felt bad for him.
But it wasn’t pity that brought your hips down around him, slowly, teasingly, savouring the stretch of him against your walls and the fullness in your belly, but rather, your own need.
Neil’s head rolled back against the brick wall, blood welling at his lip where he bit it to keep himself from toppling over his peak; he nearly did it to himself when he bucked his hips upward, burying himself inside you, making you whimper at the pain that blended so sordidly with the pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, and your nails grazed his scalp, and every little sensation sent him into overdrive. He used these little things to ground himself, as you had his tangled scents; he focused on how smooth your stomach felt against his own, his shirt hiking up so that you were skin to skin; he focused on the noises you made, huffing and whimpering, as you began to ride him; he focused on the softness of the breast that he cupped in his hand. Tried not to think about how you felt better than he’d imagined, how you clenched so tightly around his cock that he was almost pushed out each time you elevated your hips, but were so wet for him that he slid back inside so seamlessly each time.
“Neil,” you moaned as you fucked yourself on his cock, breast bouncing beneath his thumb, skirt fluttering around the bareness of his thighs. “Neil, fuck. Fuck.”
“Baby, I’m s—sorry. I’m gonna…”
You yelped again as pain shot deep inside your core, his hips bucking against yours with a violence you hadn’t known sweet Neil from the VHS store to possess, bottoming out inside you as his nails dug into the now-abused skin of your back and pulling you close, so close you were panting over his shoulder and his breath shattered against your ear. The hand that had been cupping your breast shot up to cradle your head, petting your hair.
He held you to him so tight, you didn’t think he’d ever let go. And you couldn’t have been happier.
Warmth spilled around his cock, sticky against your thighs, painting your insides white. You shuddered around him, balling his hair into a fist and digging your own, sharper nails, against his back.
“I didn’t mean it to be over so fast,” he mumbled into your neck. “I just… you’re so… fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”
“So have I,” you breathed. You practically hugged each other, shivering in the night air but content in each other’s warmth. “Don’t worry.” Pulling away slightly, you smiled down at him, cheeks flushing bright red. “If anything, it… it’s endearing.”
“Really?” he chuffed out a laugh.
“It…” you looked down, unable to meet that crystalline gaze. “It makes me feel wanted.” You pecked a quick kiss to his jaw, and could’ve sworn you saw love in his eyes when you pulled away.
“God, you’re perfect.” His voice broke again as his lips sought yours, and his breath hitched in his chest when the action caused you to rock your hips forward, a new sensation he’d never felt before buzzing along his skin. His mouth hung open and you laid kisses to his lips, his jaw, the Adam’s apple that bobbed along his throat. He felt his cock stiffen again inside you, already eager for Round Two.
“I should take you home,” he murmured, hands running up and down your sides. “You must be so cold.” As if just realising that he still had his jacket on, Neil shrugged it off in haste and wrapped the heavy material around your shoulders. A chill ran down your spine, as the material was damp with sweat – you smiled at how predictably forgettable he was when he had a woman on his lap, just as you’d imagined –, but his scent soothed you.
Though you were cold, it was a small sacrifice to make to stay here, with him buried so deep inside you that you felt dizzy in the head. Depleted of your energy and sinking into his warmth, you smirked, and rested your chin on his shoulder.
“I was thinking of just staying like this a while,” you admitted.
“Whatever makes you happy,” he breathed, hugging you even tighter. “Whatever you want.”
A.N. Sorry if this was a bit rough, guys. I smashed this one out the other day because I was tired of my writer's block.
I actually laid into some themes that I was planning on using for a Dark!Neil fic based on the song "Creep" which I don't know when I'll get around to writing, but let me know if you guys would like to hear more about the idea for the series or are interested.
MASTERLIST • REQUEST
Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!
Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @zablife @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @brummiereader @mrkdvidal1989 @fiercelittlemouse @ohwellthatslifesstuff @purplesnorlaxplush @henrywintersdearestgirl @goblinjnr @mizzbel @s0urmarvel @onasmoko @elenavampire21 @rysko @chris-seb-marvel @muhahaha303 @novemberschy @thatonesinglefriend @forgottenpeakywriter @youbyradiohead @your-nanas-house @onehornedbeast @kiss-me-cill-me @ilovefictionalpsychopaths @birminghamshelbyboys @sometimes-i-sing
#neil lewis#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis x you#neil lewis smut#neil lewis imagines#neil lewis fanfic#neil lewis fic#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy#neil lewis watching the detectives#watching the detectives 2007#watching the detectives#fuck james#all my homies hate james#s: i want you to want me
481 notes
·
View notes
Note
you should write a fic about neil cumming in his pants while eating pussy lol
— CW: 18+, smut! What the ask says. | Word count: 600+.
— a/n: Yeah I should. Anyways. I like answering requests lmao.
Neil’s short fingernails scrape the skin of your thighs, as he stares at your pussy with fascination. He licks his lips, darting his tongue slowly, savoring the godlike meal displayed wide open right in front of him.
“Are you gonna keep starin’ at my pussy or actually eat it?” You ask from the top of his bed, resting your head on the one pillow he owns.
Neil nods, licking a long, lazy stripe from your wet hole to your swollen nub, circling it with the tip of his tongue. His hand squeezed your thighs as if he was afraid you were going to magically disappear from his bed— all while his tongue was busy burying itself inside your pussy. Neil moans at the taste, loud and clear, completely delighted with your taste.
Your fingers brush his hair softly away from his forehead and his eyes— he’s like a dream. With bright eyes, Neil stares at you with his mouth attached to your clit, sucking it gently. The uncomfortable pressure of his hard cock against his boxers makes him mewl weakly against your core. The vibrations of his raspy voice make you grind your hips against his face.
Neil’s eyes roll back as you do so, enjoying how you never hesitate to use him to pursue your own pleasure. His head nods fiercely, wordlessly begging you to use his face as a toy to rub against.
You seem to pick up his silent request, chuckling softly as your free hand reaches for your chest, rolling a perky nipple with your thumb and index finger.
“You want me to rub my pussy on your face, pretty boy?” You ask breathlessly, moaning when Neil hums against your clit, sucking a bit more harshly.
Complying with eagerness, you yank his hair pressing his face against your cunt tighter. You rub his nose against your clit as he laps and practically slurps your wetness, sliding his tongue inside. Neil fucks you with his tongue with a skill that wasn't proper of the man from which you took his virginity.
His hips rut against the mattress as he leans forward to shake his head side to side with his tongue flat on your pussy, savoring it as if you were his last meal. The friction of the cotton duvet makes his cock throb, causing him to sweat and be more turned on than ever. Neil tongue-fucks you as if his life depended on it, whining all the while. It felt as though he was lost in heaven when your moans got louder and louder, your body praising his actions in its rawest form.
He is properly humping the mattress now, his face red and sweaty, suffocated by your heat— but not doing anything to stop it.
You come with a strained scream, biting your lips and closing your thighs to the best of your ability. Squeezing his head in between your legs— Neil could die happy right there.
While the aftershocks of your orgasm make your whole body jolt and shake, Neil lets out a choked, pathetic groan— his hips twitching and small thrusts faltering.
Panting, you raise your head from the pillow, looking at him with a frown. “Neil?” You ask panting, brushing some sweat away from your forehead. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah— yeah, I'm—” He replies in between ragged breaths. He untangles from your legs slowly, standing up and covering his crotch with his hands. “I need to use the bathroom—”
“Neil,” you call him again, prompting yourself with your elbows. “Did you—” Your eyes lower to his crotch, noticing the wet stain he is trying to cover. “Shit— did you come from just eating my pussy?”
With a wild blush, your boyfriend looks to the floor embarrassed, nodding.
“Fuck, that's hot.”
The dumbfounded look in his eyes makes you laugh, a laugh that turns into a sensual purr.
“Come here, big boy… I wanna clean you up with my tongue.”
— a/n: I would say send requests because I'm drinking but anyways, just fuck me.
#— ✏️ anya writes!#— 📼 neil lewis!#neil lewis smut#neil lewis#neil lewis x reader smut#neil lewis x y/n#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis x you#neil lewis fic#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#cillian x reader
963 notes
·
View notes
Text
As You Wish | Neil Lewis x fem!reader
Summary| You've had your eye on Neil for a while now and Neil's friends can tell but Neil isn't so sure until you come into Gumshoe Video with a boy on your arm with horrible taste in date-night cinema. When the date goes awry, Neil jumps to action.
Warning| Age gap, reader (19) and Neil (27), rudeness, flirting, touching, Neil being a little creepy, Neil's dubious consent, talk of virginity and inexperience, kissing, blowjob.
Mastermind- Taylor Swift (yeah, I said it) 🎵
Colorblind- Counting Crows 🎶
word count: 4933k
*sentences in italics are quotes from The Princess Bride (1987)
Please read warnings before continuing- thanks!
“That kid keeps coming around. If you’re not careful she’s gonna fall in love and you’ll be in deep shit,” Lucien fixed the thick frame of his glasses on his angular nose and returned the fake pipe to his mouth.
“Why don’t you shut up, Lucien. It’s not like that. Just keep your weird thoughts to yourself in my store.” Neil called over his shoulder as he stocked the shelves with returned VHS tape sleeves. He ran his elbow over his forehead, wiping away the thin layer of perspiration.
“Everyone’s thinking it…” Lucien raised his hands in defense and Neil rolled his eyes. Jonathan came in from Neil’s office holding a milkcrate full of new movies, still wrapped in plastic. Neil whistled at him.
“Jonathan, do you think that girl likes me?” Neil shot Lucien a look as Jonathan answered.
“Oh yeah, 100% dude.”
“What, no! Jonathan, you were supposed to say no.” Neil spoke with his hands, slapping his hand against his face. Lucien chuckled and Jonathan looked between them, confused.
“What? Neil, did you want me to lie or something?” Jonathan put down the milkcrate and leaned against the checkout counter.
“He’s blissfully unaware of how much that girl likes him.” Lucien sucked on the empty pipe and coughed, swallowing his spit the wrong way.
“How? Neil, she comes by like twice a week to talk to you and shows up at all of our softball games.”
“She’s only nineteen! For all I know, she just wants a job here one day.” Neil shrugged and went back to stocking the shelves, a blush creeping into his high cheekbones.
“Sure she wants a job here if it means that she gets to fucking talk to you everyday, all day about classic films and shit!” Jonathan laughed.
“She’s nice!” Neil exclaimed defeatedly and massaged his eye sockets.
“Yeah, so’s my aunt but she doesn’t come around here every week to tell me about the latest movie she’s watched.” Lucien mumbled.
“That wasn’t as effective as you think it was,” Jonathan sighed, then just to Lucien, “don’t use a family member next time, ok?”
“Ok, OK!” Neil interrupted them, shaking his hands. “It’s not like that and she doesn’t like me like that. I’m like eight years older than her…”
“That’s never stopped people before,” Lucien reminded Neil and he withheld a few choice expletives as the shop door opened and a customer came in. The bell twinkled and Neil called out the familiar greeting.
“Welcome to Gumshoe Video!”
“Hi, Neil.” Y/N smiled shyly. Lucien and Jonathan’s quiet snickers stopped as a second customer entered after the girl. “This is Woody. Woody, this is Neil.”
“Hey, how’s it going?” Woody waved to Neil and his friends on the back couch. They waved back in shocked silence.
“What happened to you?” She asked, recoiling away from the employees who stared at her as if they’d seen a ghost. Neil blushed, still embarrassed.
“I was just not looking forward to telling you that we lost the copy of um, The Virgin Suicides that you wanted. It’ll take another few weeks and I assume that’s why you stopped by.” Neil scrambled for a reliable answer, and one that was partly true. She blushed slightly when she heard Neil use the word ‘virgin’ and laughed it off.
“It’s ok, I just wanted to show Woody my favorite place.”
“We’re going to get a movie,” Woody smiled and began to scan the shelves.
“Sooo what do you like? Classic horror, westerns, Spike Lee, Hitchcock, Coppola?” Neil listed off categories of films he viewed to be superior and Woody shook his head, oblivious to Neil’s edged tone.
“I like action movies mainly. I haven’t seen much else.”
Neil smiled at the girl’s embarrassed reaction. He knew well that she didn’t like action movies and refused to watch them even if Neil recommended one.
“So like war movies?”
“Sports movies.” Woody corrected and pretended to shoot a basketball. “Anything about football or basketball.”
Neil felt a sharp pain in his chest at the boy’s words. He was a walking abomination to the film community. Lucien made a sound similar to a whimper and Neil cleared his throat to mask it.
“Well uh i’m sure that we can find something for you though we don’t tend to carry sports movies because we have so little demand for it,” Neil explained blandly. “Have you ever seen anything by Tarentino? His movies tend to be more action-oriented. That and the old Bond movies.” Neil started to list movies he was almost completely sure Woody had not seen. Every shake of Woody’s head scratched a strange itch inside his head. What was this girl doing with someone like Woody?
“Ah maybe,” Woody shrugged. “Do you have Rudy, Bull Durham, Remember the Titans?”
“No, we don’t.” Neil pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled stiffly. “We do have the Air Bud movies,” Neil mumbled as a joke but Woody looked interested.
“Where’s that?” He asked, looking around the store.
“The kid’s section. It’s about a dog that plays sports,” Neil deadpanned and Jonathan and Lucien stifled their giggles.
Woody was completely oblivious to Neil’s pointed comment and shrugged.
“Sounds good to me,” he looked at the girl with a smile. Her lips were parted in a look of displeasure and shock.
“You want to watch Air Bud?” She stressed the name of the movie like a bad word. Woody smiled, still not catching the tone of dislike in her speech.
“Um…” She started and trailed off, totally caught off guard. Neil smiled, almost enjoying the direction that this interaction had gone.
“I’ll get it for you,” Neil used his best customer service voice and turned around. He widened his eyes at Jonathan and Lucien, I told you so. Lucien narrowed his eyes behind his glasses, not wanting to admit defeat just yet.
“Sooo are you two dating,” Lucien tried to sound casual but his tone was suggestive and Y/N blushed deeply from embarrassment.
“No, we’re just friends,” she answered too quickly and Neil glowered at Lucien. Jonathan looked down at his hands, wanting to stay out of the conversation. Woody looked at her and frowned.
“Well on that note, I think I’ll just get going. Forget about the movie, dude. Thanks anyway,” Woody snipped and left the store abruptly. The bell beside the door clanged loudly as he walked down the sidewalk, fumming.
“Lucien!” Neil exclaimed and Jonathan swatted Lucien’s arm.
“Sorry…geez!” Lucien deflected Jonathan’s hands and scooted away. Neil, holding a copy of Air Bud on VHS, lowered it and slid it onto the checkout counter.
“Sooo no more Air Bud?” Neil tried to break the awkward silence. She gave him a look that quieted him immediately and left the store, going the opposite way that Woody had turned. She went around the side of the building where she knew there was a shabby basketball goal and a place to sit. She wanted to wait it out, to make sure that she wouldn’t run into Woody again that afternoon. It was safer to hide here than walk home.
“Nice going, Lucien.” Neil sighed and returned the tape to the shelf.
“You just fucking ruined young love,” Jonathan quipped and Lucien gasped defensively. Neil joined them on the long section couch and they sat in silence for a while. A loud bang made them all jump.
“What the hell was that?” Jonathan turned to look where the sound had come from. The three of them stood to investigate. The second time they heard it, the shelf of tapes on the wall was josuled. They each jumped again and Neil drew his face up into a tight line.
“Is someone throwing something against the wall?” Lucien surmised and spoke with his pipe in his palm.
“I’ll check it out,” Neil looked at the shelf warily and backed away. He left the store and went around the side of the building. Seeing Y/N made him jump again and he clutched his chest briefly. She had a basketball and was chucking it at the hoop without much care for whether or not it went in. The ball hit the wall again. Jonathan and Lucien collected the tapes that had fallen off of the shelf only to have more tapes fall on their heads.
“Maybe you should watch more sports movies, it might help you with your technique.” Neil crossed his arms casually across his chest and smiled. She dribbled the basketball slowly and caught it in her arms.
“It was more of an exercise of rage,” she spoke between heavy breaths.
“Sorry about Lucien,” Neil gestured to the store. “He’s not great with people.”
“I could tell… but I’m not really upset about it-”
“You fooled me,” Neil interjected with a laugh. She rolled her eyes with a small smile.
“He gave me an out but it wasn’t the right time. I shouldn’t have said it like that to Woody.” She dribbled the basketball again.
“So were you dating?” Neil opened his hands, signaling her to throw him the ball.
“Kind of,” she tossed him the ball and shrugged, “we’d gone out once or twice. We met at a party. Nothing was official yet.” Neil aimed and threw the ball, it fell through the hoop with a quiet whoosh before bouncing on the pavement below. She retrieved the ball and with one hand, she fixed the legs of her shorts, pulling them down over her thighs. He looked away quickly.
“Did you know his taste in movies before you started going out?” Neil asked and watched as she aligned herself to toss the ball. It bounced off of the backboard and spun into the hoop. Neil applauded and she smiled.
“He said he liked action movies but I didn’t know that he meant… sports movies. He’s a business major and I doubt he’s ever taken a film class or seen anything that wasn’t about sports in some way.” She nearly shivered. “And you had to suggest Air Bud?” She asked him pointedly and he pursed his lips defensively.
“That was not an actual suggestion. I can’t believe he fell for it,” Neil dribbled the ball around his legs lazily and circled her before shooting. He missed and she giggled. “I think you dodged a bullet,” he told her honestly and when they held eye-contact, he felt his navel twitch.
“Could you imagine if I had to watch Air Bud on a date?” She looked down at the ball and missed the hoop by a few feet. She sighed and fanned herself. This is exactly what she had been hoping would happen. She wouldn’t go as far as to say that she was a mastermind but she’d been trying to get closer to Neil for weeks. She’d liked Woody enough but taking him to Gumshoe Video was more strategic than cute. She hoped to make Neil a little jealous, and show him that she could get other guys. Nothing had actually happened between her and Neil besides long chats and lots of laughter. Maybe she could change that.
Neil picked up the ball and bounded over to the hoop, jumping and shooting the ball. His fingers pushed the ball into the net as he landed back down on the ground. When he turned his eyes widened slightly.
“It’s really fucking hot today,” she mumbled as she pulled off her t-shirt, having just a camisole underneath. Her cutoff denim shorts and black camisole left little to the imagination but Neil still tried. She tossed the shirt to the side and dribbled the ball, her eyes focused on the goal. Neil looked down her camisole, staring at her chest as her breasts shifted beneath the fabric in her bra. Her pink bra straps slipped on her shoulders and after shooting the ball, she had to snap them back into place. He blushed more and looked away. She crossed the small makeshift court and sat on the shallow ledge beside the store, swinging her legs up and underneath her. Neil held the ball awkwardly in his hands and approached her slowly.
“What movie would you watch on a first date?” She asked him.
“Uh,” his mind blanked, “definitely Air Bud,” he nodded and she laughed. He sat beside her and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Neil! I’m being serious!” She pressed the toe of her foot against her chest.
“Ok, ok ummm,” he wrapped his fingers around her bare ankle with a smile and moved it back to the ledge in between them. She shifted her body so that she was facing him, both feet planted on the ledge in front of him. “Maybe The Wizard of Oz.”
“Why?” She asked with a soft smile. He rocked back and forth, using his hands to support himself. His large hands sat on either side of her feet, his chest directly over her knees.
“Well it was one of the first movies to use color,” he said first, “and it would give me a chance to brag about how much I know about film.” He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. She laughed and shook her head.
“I thought you hated musicals!” She protested and he looked away sheepishly.
“I do but I can’t pass up an opportunity to impress someone, especially a girl.” He looked at her and then blushed, looking away again. “I mean,” he started and she nodded.
“No, I get it. Do you like romance movies?” She fluttered her lashes discreetly, making Neil second guess whether she had done it intentionally or not. “You don’t seem like one but we all have our secrets,” she dragged her hand up her leg, drawing his attention to the contours of muscle beneath her shin bone.
“You could argue that every movie is a romance,” Neil sputtered slightly, collecting himself.
“Even Air Bud?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and he scoffed, looking away.
“I don’t know about that.”
“What’s your favorite romance movie?” She rested her forearms on her knees and leaned forward. He looked at her briefly, his eyes dipping to her cleavage before meeting her eyes again.
“Uh w-what?” He asked and she giggled.
“What’s your favorite romance movie?” She asked again and he thought quickly.
“The Princess Bride,” his eyes flicked to her’s for approval and that surprised him.
“I love that movie,” her eyes widened as she recalled the plot.
“What about you?”
“Well The Princess Bride is the best answer but I like The Great Gatsby too,” she smiled shyly.
“The Great Gatsby is a tragedy at heart,” Neil argued and she shrugged.
“As you wish,” she quoted from The Princess Bride and his eyes flicked open wider for one second before he cleared his throat. The sun was starting to set and the sky bled with a sated orange color. She looked up at the sky, showing the vulnerable underside of her chin and swallowed. Neil watched, letting his eyes wander over the soft expanse of flesh.
“We should probably go inside,” Neil broke the silence, “or I-I should go back.” He jerked his thumb back to the store and she lowered her head again and let her head fall to one side.
“As you wish,” she said again and laughed. He watched her silently and licked his lips. He felt like he was going to say something but no words came to his mind as he sat there.
“Or do you want to come inside? Sorry, I’m not trying to get rid of you…”
“Ok, sure.” She nodded and followed him around the store, pulling on her big shirt again. Jonathan and Lucien were arguing inside but stopped when they walked inside.
“Basketball game?” Lucien asked over his pipe and Y/N nodded with a sigh.
“Sorta, I had to blow off some steam.”
“He’s sorry by the way,” Jonathan added and Lucien started to argue but she cut them off.
“It’s ok. You saved me a night watching Air Bud.” She winked and started to browse the aisles again. Jonathan shoved Lucien.
“What? What’s your problem?” Lucien protested and Jonathan gestured to the door, hinting that they should leave. “You have to be joking,” he muttered under his breath, irritated.
“Hey uh, Neil?” Jonathan cleared his throat. Neil broke his obvious concentration on the girl and looked at his friends on the couch.
“Yeah?”
“We’re gonna head out. Lucien owes me a beer and I want to beat the bar rush,” Jonathan grabbed Lucien by the shoulders and shuffled out the front door.
“It’s not even seven yet-” Neil started but they were gone before he could finish. His heart started beating quickly and he glanced anxiously at the disappearing silhouettes of his friends. The girl walked through the aisles, biting her bottom lip slightly as she looked. He didn’t want to be alone like this with her, it felt weird. She was young enough to be his younger sister and it irked him… and yet, she looked so pretty beneath the yellowish fluorescent bulbs inside the store and her hair was sticky from the humidity.
“We should watch something,” she said quietly behind a rack of VHS and Neil cleared his throat.
“Together?”
“No, in separate rooms… yeah of course together.” She laughed lightly and showed him the movie she had found. He chuckled and shrugged.
“The Princess Bride? Ok, sure.” He approached the small box tv in front of the sectional couch and inserted the tape. Y/N slipped discreetly to the front doors and turned over the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and locked the door. Neil stood behind the couch and set up the box player, struggling with the buttons on the remote. She collapsed on the couch and rested her legs on the wide ottoman. Her hair spread over the back of the couch and covered Neil’s hand. He looked down at it and struggled to exhale normally. The movie started and she wiggled in excitement. Neil sat on a stool behind the couch, worried about sitting beside her. After the first ten minutes of them each reciting the lines back to the tv, she looked over her shoulder, flashing a toothy grin.
“Neil, come on, sit with me. It’s weird to have you looking over my shoulder like that.”
“Um I- uh yeah ok,” Neil stammered and joined her hesitantly on the couch, his hands between his knees. His longer hair brushed the tops of his shoulders and she resisted the urge to sweep a strand into her hand. Slowly he relaxed and they acted to each other as well as to the tv, adapting the characters they liked best. As the movie went on, she braved looking over at him more and holding his startling eye contact. They laughed hard at one scene and bent over with laughter, shifting their bodies closer in the process. Eventually they were nearly arm-to-arm on the worn brown sectional. Neil’s breath escaped in pained bursts as he looked at her thigh, relaxed on the couch beside his leg. Her shorts had creeped up to her crotch as they sat and she’d made no move to pull them back down. He caught himself staring at the crease at her crotch and wondering if the tightness was uncomfortable for her, how warm the material would be against her like that… he shook his head to clear his thoughts and clenched his jaw when he felt his cock twitch.
“Neil?” She turned slightly to him and his breath hitched as he turned his attention to her. She bit her lip lightly and slowly pressed herself up onto her knee. He watched her, his eyes flicking between the tv and her face, inches from his face.
Hear this now: I will always come for you.
She exhaled softly and her breath rippled across his face. Her hands inched closer to his stomach clothed beneath his light blue shirt. Her bright eyes intoxicated him as she brought her lips to his, offering herself. When she kissed him, her eyes squeezed closed and she sucked briefly on his bottom lip, lacking technique from her barely nonexistent experience. When she pulled away slowly Neil’s brow creased as his brows flew up.
“Y/N… we uh we shouldn’t.”
But how can you be sure?
Her eyes crinkled in embarrassment and her small cheeks flushed. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispered and sat back against the couch, pressing her sweaty palms against her thighs. Neil looked over at her and licked his lips, fighting an internal argument against himself.
This is true love- you think this happens everyday?
She flexed her thighs anxiously on the couch and the movement sent a shock up Neil’s body, making his crotch throb slightly, weary from the close proximity to her warm skin.
You mock my pain.
Neil brushed a shaky finger down the side of her thigh and felt her inhale quickly. She looked at him slowly, her lips parted. His hand slid up her body to her head and cupped her cheek. He leaned over and kissed her, not harshly but not subtle either. Their lips popped wetly when he pulled away. He looked down at her, she was panting slightly, her heart fluttering in her chest.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Neil whispered and fell back into the couch beside her, clenching his fists. They sat in silence, their breath mingling in the space between them like a mixture of heat waves. Neil smelled faintly of mint mouthwash and musk, the sweat worked up during their “game” clung to his body.
Life is pain, princess. Anyone who says differently is selling something.
And quick as a flash of lightning, their bodies flew together, their mouths finding each other like opposite ends of a magnet or a cap over a pen. She climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips and held his head in her small hands. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bunching the fabric in his hands. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he greeted it with enthusiasm, his hands tightening around her waist. She licked his lips as she closed down around them, sucking everything out of him. He moaned softly against her kiss and his arms flexed, his cock hardening. She gasped when she felt him get hard against her crotch. He broke their kiss abruptly.
“Fuck, sorry.” He loosened his grip on her waist and went to shift out from under her. “I didn’t mean to get…” he trailed off and moved her off his lap easily. She watched him, her mind already caught in a lapse.
“This was a mistake. You’re in college. I shouldn’t have encouraged this,” he dragged his hands through his dark hair and pulled at the roots, mumbling incoherently as she looked up at him, her eyes wide like a doe. The front of his pants tented out and he started to walk to his office. She jumped and grabbed his hand, catching him before he disappeared into the backroom.
“Please, stay.” She whispered and bit her lip, dispelling some of her pent up energy into the action.
“You’re too young.”
“I’m nineteen.”
“I’m too old for you.”
“You’re 27.”
“You’re a virgin.”
She flushed redder and looked away, embarrassed. “Not really.” She looked back at him and shrugged. “We all have our secrets, right?” She cocked her head and tried to smile, her heart beating so fast that she felt dizzy.
“I don’t know…” Neil added half-heartedly, having run out of reasons. “The customers!” Neil remembered and glanced, panicked, at the front doors.
“You closed early.” She smiled embarrassedly and rubbed his wrist with her thumb. “Please,” she tried again and he looked down at her. His cock throbbed uncomfortably in his pants. He allowed her to lead him back to the couch and watched as she lowered herself onto her knees. Her hands rested on his thighs as she opened his legs wide enough to sit between them. He watched dumbly as she unbuckled his belt and slowly unzipped his fly. She tugged down the crotch of his jeans, exposing the waistband of his checkered boxers.
“Wait,” Neil blurted and she looked up at him, “come here.” He asked softly and waited as she rose to her feet, her hands moving to his chest as she leaned closer. He pulled her back onto his lap, straddling her over his lap and kissed her, lapping at her mouth with his tongue. His small biceps flexed around her, his hands finding her hair and wrapping his fingers in it hungrily. She sat up on her knees and pressed her crotch against his chest, making him sit up taller to reach her mouth. She whimpered softly as he kissed her as if he was eating her, slowly getting deeper. His kisses felt so good on their own that she almost moaned into him, licking the tip of his nose. She licked the edge of his jaw and he let her, savoring the immature way she approached tasting him. His hands supported her back as she panted, bucking her hips against his chest as she kissed him feverishly. Racks of tapes shielded them from view but Neil hoped passerbys couldn’t hear them through the storefront’s display glass.
Slowly she slid down his chest and returned to her spot between his legs. She licked the warm mound at his crotch, leaving a wide wet spot. Neil sighed as he watched her, his cock twitched again. Her hands squeezed into his thighs and she licked his erection again through his boxers.
“Oh god,” Neil gasped and looked up at the ceiling. She hooked her hands around his waistband and pulled it down slowly, finally releasing his cock which glistened with precum. She stared at it for a moment before kissing the head. Neil’s mouth fell open in pleasure and shock. “Look at you, god… fuck.” She smiled, self-conscious and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, squeezing him slightly. He groaned and bucked his hips. She rubbed the head against her wet lips and slowly slipped him inside her mouth. Her mouth was already watering and he whined loudly as she took him in, hallowing her cheeks on accident but soon realizing that it made Neil feel good. She went as deep as she could and pulled away, allowing a thick line of spit to connect her lips with his cock. Neil’s eyes widened and his head dropped back against the couch. His hands flew up to his face and massaged his cheeks, unsure how to handle the things he was feeling and not wanting to force her head down on top of him.
She took him back into her mouth and swirled her tongue around him, bobbing her head up and down. She rocked her head slightly and tried to create a rhythm that elicited the most pitiful sounds from Neil. His cock shook inside her mouth and she sucked hard against it like a lollipop. Neil’s hands tightened around his face and he moaned loudly, exhaling sharply.
“Oh god, honey. What the actual fuck.” He whined between even breaths. He looked down at her pretty little mouth sucking him off and he nearly finished then when she pulled off of him and started to jack him off, her tongue pressed flat against his head. Her fist clenched around his length and he sputtered, unable to form words. After a dozen hard and fast jerks, she took him in her mouth again and bobbed up and down quickly, drooling heavily around him as she tasted his salty precum.
“Oh fuck- fuck- fuck! Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He panted and moaned loudly, his hands finally finding her hair, the pleasure becoming so overwhelming that it was almost painful. The friction and sensation heightened and his knuckles turned white around her long hair. He thrusted his hips gently into her mouth, not wanting to gag her. She welcomed it, opening her throat and humming to let him deeper. She breathed deeply through her nose and her exhales feathered across his crotch, adding even more to the sensations he was already feeling. With a yell Neil spilled into her mouth, bucking his hips and falling back on the couch. She proudly continued to suck him off, pulling everything out of him. He watched her, breathing heavily. She swallowed his warm cum with a smile.
I told you I would come for you…
Neil glanced up at the movie screen and chuckled. She licked him from the base up and plopped back onto the couch, breathing heavily too. Neil tucked himself back into his pants, leaving his belt unbuckled. She arranged herself proudly beside him on the couch, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“That was fucking incredible,” Neil slapped his forehead and laughed breathlessly. “So so good…” he shook his head and looked at her, smiling lopsidedly. She snaked a hand onto his crotch again and rubbed him before wrapping her arm around his sweaty neck. He wrapped his arms around her and supported her body weight as she laid against him, their stomach crushed against each other. She shivered as she heard his heavy breath against her ear. “Good girl,” he whispered and sighed. He rubbed her back and kissed her shoulder through her shirt. She turned over, sitting nearly on his lap. His hands clasped around her stomach and held her tightly. Her soft belly shivered beneath her slowing breaths. They both relaxed again into the movie.
#cillian x fem!reader#cillian murphy#fanfiction#cillian fluff#cillian fanfic#neil lewis x fem!reader#neil lewis x y/n#neil lewis smut#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis#watching the detectives#princess bride
460 notes
·
View notes
Text
Be quick
(Credits to the owner @corodedcofin)
◇ Pairing: Perv Stepbrother!Neil Lewis X stepsister!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, pervy Neil, hanjob, dub-con but not really, indifference, age gap (both off age), shitty writing, curses
◇ Summary: Neil receiving a handjob on the sofa while his stepsister looks at her phone.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Been working on this things since weeks now... it's shit and I'm sorry. 🤷🏼♀️🙇🏼♀️
A small snort left Neil's lips, he was getting bored for the first time while watching one of the movies he usually liked to watch.
It had been a while since he broke up with Violet and he missed a bit... that thrill mixed with adrenaline. He certainly wasn't the Neil he once was, not even in the way he wished— especially when he thought at his step sister.
The young woman had been such a little tease lately.
The possibilities that she was it while Neil was in the relationship were pretty high but he was always too busy to actually notice and let his body react to it.... every day. Because it kept happening every single day since his eyes took her in, waking up his cock at the mere view of bit of skin.
He blamed it mostly on the lack of sex in his life and the urge of fisting his lenght to make time and stress go away.
Y/n, his mother's new boyfriend's daughter... aka his step-sister, was being a bother even though she was just sitting right besides him, her eyes locked on the phone rather than the TV.
His baby blue eyes couldn't stop wandering around her body, taking peeks at her cleavage and her short shorts she was wearing at home— and he was doing it again. Luckily they were all alone that day, no-one was around, so.... he could finally get what he craved so much.
The only issue that was stopping him from doing anything was the poor plan he had in mind... how could he start it all? he wondered silently.
A short mental battle and Neil shifted slightly closer, his face turned still towards the TV to pretend that he was watching the movie playing on it, as he spread slightly his thigh to brush it against Y/n's bare a couple of time to see if he received any reaction from her.
Receiving none he continued with the plan, taking her hand and placed it down on his lap casually, sending finally the message that he was trying to give her without murmuring it explicitly— he was so aroused, nearly thrilled... thrilled enough to twitch at the mere warmth of her hand.
Y/n not really, she was still cursing mentally for that drunk bet she had with him and her lost which causing her to fall in that absurd situation.
'That fucking perv' she thought while starting finally to move her hand, feeling his hard cock, pressing against his pajamas pants, with her little finger.
Her hand limited to only rub his thigh for the moment as she waited for him to lower his pants and free his lenght— her eyes never leaving the screen of her phone.
Neil glanced at her, his breath peaking up as he bit his bottom lip in anticipation too earger to actually move... just wanting her soft groomed hand to wrap around his thick long cock and lead the way to heaven.
She didn't even needed to glance in his direction to see what to do since her stepbrother's hand moved her own to wrap it around his leaking cock, allowing that way her eyes to stay glued to the screen.
His cock was hard, his skin soft and plesant to touch while his tip was of an angry red... as it let some pre-cum drip on her fingers as soon as she moved his foreskin.
"Oh fuck" Neil curses, biting harder his bottom lip as he watched her move her hand lazily, his hips jerking desperately up to meet her movements. The young girl had been able to give it just a couple of slow pumps before the older man wrapped his own big hand around her smaller one... so to guide her better and not allow her to tease him further.
His fingers intertwined with hers, his thumb caressed the back of her hand before he moved it off his cock, so that he could lean closer and spit on it as a lubricant to ease the handjob.
"Neil! You're fucking disgusting" Y/n cursed at his action, making a face at the odd feeling of his spit on the inside of her hand. He really was so gross sometimes.
"Fuck, say my name again" he breathed out overwhelmed by the situation, his hand guiding hers back around his lenght "Remember, squee—" he started, cursing softly as she interrupted him with her movements.
"Yes, yes... I know how you like it, now shut up" Y/n murmured, scrolling her phone while working his cock... her hand squeezing it teasingly while his rough action kept pleasuring him, her hand hitting his bases before moving fast back up to the tip... up and down, up.. and down.
His balls where already reacting, getting pulled up by the muscles as his breath got heavier, pathetic whines leaving his mouth.
"Don't stop, don't stop, fuck, Y/n!" Neil nearly cried, arching his back while fucking her hand faster, working on his balls with his own hand to reach faster his peak.
"Fucking hell, how much longer do you need?" Y/n's voice exclaimed making him shiver and whine while her other hand, which was previously holding her phone, slapped his hands away so that she could jerk him off faster and better... already without patience.
"Fucking pathetic" the younger woman murmured, cursing when his warm seed got shot... not only dirtying her hands but her face and top as well due to the bend over position she had been in.
"Neil!—"
#neil lewis x you#neil lewis oneshot#neil lewis smut#neil lewis cillian murphy#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis#neil lewis x y/n#cillian fanfic#cillian fic#cillian murphy#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy one shot#cillian murphy smut
365 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cabin Fever | Neil Lewis x fem!reader
prompt: your best friends brother is a bit hot .. and a bit creepy (NSFW, MINORS DNI!!!)
WARNINGS: pervy/pushy neil, DUBCON/NONCON (not sure which, but be warned), forced proximity, implied age gap (just by a few years everyone is legal), oral and fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), gaslighting (? lol?)
*not proofread*
your best friends older brother is quite .. interesting. he’s never been bad towards you, but he’s always been a little weird. throughout the entirety of your friendship, you’ve never had to be alone with neil for more than a few minutes, until now.
your best friend invited you to come along to her family’s cabin with her for the weekend. obviously, you accepted, and eagerly packed your things and headed on your way. the trip was going well, you and her discussed weekend plans until abruptly her parents came in and told her they had forgotten some vital things.
it was all sort of a blur, for some reason your best friend had to leave you behind with her brother as she and her parents go to retrieve whatever they’ve forgotten. great.
so, you sit on the couch and read a magazine. the cabins in a very secluded area so there’s no service and thus no point in using your phone. as you read, neil leaves you alone. at least for a little while. until eventually, you see him begin to approach you in your peripheral.
he sits on the opposite side of the couch, sighing as he lounged back against the soft material. you try to ignore him, loudly flipping the page on the magazine. you can feel him staring at you, his gaze burning into you. impulsively, you glance up at him and meet his gaze. the moment you make eye contact, neil takes it as a sign to start talking.
“so they left you here with me, huh?”
“yeah, guess so.” you respond politely before bringing your eyes back down to the magazine.
a few moments of silence pass before neil speaks up again, “you’re over 18 now, right?”
you pause, why does he care? why is your age crossing his mind?
“yeah .. i’ve been legal for quite some time now.” you murmur flatly, knowing that he’s still staring you down.
“where’s all the time gone?” he laughs, “i remember when you and my sister were little, playing with dolls and pretending to be mermaids. but you’re not doing that anymore, you’re a big girl now.”
jesus, could this get any more awkward?
“uh .. heh .. yup .. all grown up.” you chuckle, anxiously flipping through the pages. you’re not even reading the magazine at this point, you’re just keeping your gaze on it and hoping that neil will inevitably stand up and leave you alone.
“all grown up ..” neil repeats quietly, inching closer to you. “whatcha reading?”
“it’s .. uh .. just some magazine i found ..” you mumble, trying to get back into the flow of reading. it’s difficult, your brain isn’t absorbing any of the material since you’re too fixated on neil being so up close and personal.
“ah ..” he hums with a slight nod, scooting closer again. at this point, he’s not touching you, but you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. “i was kind of in the mood to bake some cookies .. and i was thinking maybe you could be my little helper.”
you bring your gaze back up to him with a bit of a confused look on your face. “you packed ingredients for cookies?”
neil chuckles, “we planned to make them as a family, but why not make them now? it could be a nice surprise, don’t you think?”
“yeah .. i guess so ..” you reply meekly, shutting the magazine slowly.
“and your help would be appreciated.” neil leans in to add, “you’re the guest, it would be the polite thing to do.”
he’s right. it would be a nice gesture to her parents, a little ‘thank you’ for allowing you to come along. so, against your better judgment, you comply.
“okay, i’ll help out.” you sigh as you place the magazine on the coffee table in front of you, looking over at neil beside you. he’s smiling, “good girl, let’s get a move on then.”
you try your hardest to ignore his usage of ‘good girl.’ if you were being honest, neil isn’t ugly. not in the slightest. and the fact that he’s praising you? you couldn’t help but get a little bit excited. but his behaviour mixed with the fact that he’s your best friends brother made it difficult for you to come to terms with the attraction.
so, without acknowledging his words, you stand up and follow him to the kitchen. neil asks for your assistance in grabbing some ingredients and utensils and you politely oblige. as you place the utensils down onto the counter, you drop a couple in the process.
you lean down to grab it but neil stops you, “i got it.”
as neil crouches down to pick the utensil up, he peaks under your skirt, where he gets a glimpse of some lacy panties that leave little to the imagination.
“who are you wearing these for?” neil chuckles as he lifts the back of your skirt, exposing your ass and panties to him. you quickly swat his arm away and turn to face him. “no one!” you defend, feeling your cheeks burn as you hold down the back of your skirt. neil rises to his feet with a cheeky grin on his face.
“you sure? cause ..” neil pries as he lifts up the front of your skirt, smirking at the new view he’s getting. you smack his hand away again and force your skirt down again, “stop!” you squeak, feeling your heart race faster.
“what’s the harm in getting a little peak?” neil questions, as if he’s actually confused as to why you don’t want him to look under your skirt.
“because .. i .. because ..” you stutter as your cheeks flush harder, “i shouldn’t have to explain this to you!”
neil just chuckles and creeps closer. you attempt to walk away, but you feel the edge of the countertop meet the small of your back. you feel your heart begin to pound as he essentially corners you.
“you can’t wear panties like that and expect me to not get a little curious, baby.” he purrs as his body becomes flush against yours while he places his face into your neck, “come on, let me see what’s underneath.”
“n-no, neil, stop-“ you whine as you weakly attempt to push him away. your mind is put off by his inability to take no for an answer, but your body is becoming hot and bothered. “let’s get back to the cookies, okay?”
neil tuts and shakes his head, letting out a small pathetic whine from within your neck. “oh, but i don’t want the cookies anymore, i’m hungry for something else now ..” he groans as he runs his hand up your exposed thigh, giving you chills.
“neil ..” you whimper as his hand sneaks higher and higher up your thigh, the pads of his fingers are dangerously close to your clothed cunt. they dance around your upper inner thighs as he taunts you. “please don’t.”
“just let me see then we can go back to baking.” neil pulls his head out to respond, that same stupid smirk plastered on his face. you really don’t want to, but if showing him will end this, you might as well do it.
you gulp before responding, “okay, fine, i’ll show you.”
neil licks his lips and steps back. he doesn’t give you enough room to run away, but he gives you enough space to show him your cunt. as you begin to lift the hem of your skirt, he stops you.
“wait, wait ..”
for a moment, your heart begins to relax, maybe he’s come back to his senses.
“get up on the counter, i want a good look.”
oh, never mind.
the anxiety sets back in since it never truly left and you hesitantly sit up on the counter, thighs pressed together as you attempt to muster up the courage to spread them for neil.
neil’s patience quickly wears thin as he loudly sighs while rolling his eyes. “do i have to do it for you?”
before you can respond, neil forces your thighs a part and pulls your panties to the side, immediately exposing yourself to him. you gasp at the cold air and abrupt exposure and attempt to shut your legs, but neil doesn’t give in.
“oh, baby ..” neil nearly moans at the sight as he spreads your lips apart with his index and middle finger. you gasp loudly, he never asked to touch, he only wanted to see- or so you thought.
“neil, stop! y-you didn’t ask to touch-“ you beg as you attempt to close your legs again, neil still won’t budge. your face is burning with embarrassment, the last thing you wanted was for him to see that his perverted little comments were getting you worked up.
“you expected me to see this wet little cunt of yours and you thought i wouldn’t touch it? that’s just stupid, sweet girl.” neil chuckles as he toys with your folds, spreading your slick around in awe. you attempt to push neil away, but he just retaliates by diving between your legs, his tongue eagerly lapping you up before suckling on your clit.
you moan involuntarily and quickly snap your hand up to cover your mouth. the gesture felt good, but you repeatedly said no and pushed him away. the logical side of you still wanted him to stop, but the other half wanted him to give you more.
“aw, feels so good, huh?” neil teases from between your legs, placing sloppy kisses against your sensitive clit. you shake your head, yes it feels good, but this is wrong, this is so fucking wrong.
“no, n-no neil, stop.” your voice cracks as you beg, the pleasure clearly taking its toll on you. he just hums, resuming his licking and sucking. you’re shocked at how good he is at this, neil sort of gave off incel vibes, where’d he learn how to eat pussy?
neil pulls back and huffs, spreading your lips apart again. then, almost as if on cue, you feel a string of your arousal slowly spill out from your opening and drip onto the counter.
“look at that ..” neil purrs, “your cunts drooling for me, pretty girl.”
“no, it’s not ..” you attempt to deny despite feeling the arousal burning between your legs, you just want this to be over. neil shakes his head while smirking.
“yes, it is, baby. i bet it’s all loose for me now too, isn’t it?” neil decides as he easily slides his middle finger inside you, groaning in approval at the sensation. you whine and grip the counter top, wondering how far is this truly going to go. what if your best friend walks in right now and sees this? what if her parents see this?
“god .. you need some cock, baby ..” neil claims as he lazily fucks you with the digit, you bite down on your bottom lip in attempt to silence yourself. neil notices this and clicks his tongue, “i know how much you like it, no point in trying to pretend anymore.”
“i don’t like it!” you plead, despite it being partially untrue, you still try to stand your ground.
“if you don’t like it ..” neil questions as he slowly inserts a second digit, “then why is your pussy basically begging for me to fill it up?”
the slight stretch makes your breathing more ragged, “it’s .. it’s the body’s natural response ..”
neil just scoffs as he watches you drench his fingers in your arousal, “right, was it your ‘body’s natural response’ to wear slutty panties, too?”
“n-no! i just-“ you start before he pulls his fingers out, leaving you feeling hollow. the peace doesn’t last for long, neil almost immediately begins to unzip his pants and pull them down. as he tugs down his boxers, his flushed cock springs free. you immediately look away, everything suddenly becoming all too real.
as you look away, you suddenly feel neil’s raw tip against your entrance. your eyes go wide and your mouth goes dry, “wait, neil, wait wait!” you plead as neil thrusts into you with no resistance. you whine as he bottoms out, he groans in response.
“look how easy that was, sweet girl. your cunt needed this.” neil coos sweetly as he rolls his hips back out, just to quickly thrust them back in. with each thrust you feel the air being punched out of your lungs. you don’t want to, but you physically can’t help but moan.
“that’s it .. good girl ..” neil praises as he grips your hip with one of his hands. you lean back against your palms as he fucks into you, your clothed tits recoiling each time his hips meet with yours.
“who knew you’d grow up to be such a whore.” neil groans as he brings his free hand up to your chest, running his thumb along your hardening nipple through your shirt. your legs twitch in response. you wanted to shout, kick him away, but you couldn’t. it felt too good. too disgustingly good.
“‘m .. ngh .. ‘m not a whore ..” you defend, although your breathy and fucked out tone is rather unconvincing. neil removes his hand from your hip and hooks it under your knee, keeping his other hand on your chest as he fucks into you rougher.
“n-neil, please-“ you moan, you want to say ‘please stop’, but neil’s cock is unexpectedly hitting all the right places. neil chuckles as his jaw hangs slack, “moan my name again, baby. god your pussy feels like fucking heaven.”
“s-stop-“ you mumble as he harshly grips your tit, smacking it soon after. the smack causes you to wince and involuntarily clench around him, making neil purr.
“stop?” he chuckles breathily, “how am i supposed to stop when your cunts so warm, wet, ‘n inviting?”
your body shivers at neil’s crude words, at this point you’ve accepted that he won’t stop, so you just hope this will end as soon as possible. as you screw your eyes shut and attempt to distract yourself from what’s happening, you feel his thumb press up against your clit.
you whimper as your eyes open back up, glancing between your legs to see neil rubbing your sensitive nub as he continues to thrust into you. all that can be heard through the kitchen is skin slapping against skin, your opening squelching lewdly around neil’s cock, and heavy breathing.
you hate how good it feels. you hate how close you are, you hate how neil knows how much he’s impacting you.
“you’re so much easier to manage when you’ve got a cock in you.” neil let’s out a shaky laugh, you can tell he’s getting close too. “how long has it been since someone’s fucked you this good?”
you don’t respond, the last thing you want to do is give him even more satisfaction. however, neil interrupts your silence in another way.
“don’t tell me no one’s ever given you a good fucking before. do you not give it up easy? you treat your pretty little pussy like a prize?” neil panted, loving the idea of being one of few that has gotten to feel your heavenly silk walls.
you still try not to respond, only whimpering as neil’s thrusts abuse that sensitive spot within you again. your arousal has continued to spill onto the counter and onto neil’s balls, you feel filthy. in any other circumstance you would love how wet you’re getting, but right now you hate how your body is feeding into neil’s ego.
“smart girl.” neil praises as he brings his gaze down, watching his drenched cock slide in and out of you, “don’t let other people in .. yet you give it up to me so easily .. am i special, baby?”
you mewl at him saying that you gave it up to him ‘easily’, you didn’t, you just stopped fighting him.
“d-didn’t give it up .. mh!” you whine as you’re cut off by your own moan, the combination of neil’s thrusts and his quick thumb movements have your mind reeling.
“sh sh, pretty baby, succumb to the pleasure. quit trying to fight it.” neil purrs as he leans his body forward, placing wet kisses onto your neck. you’re painfully close to tipping over the edge, you’re trying your absolute hardest to not come for him, let alone on his cock.
“i .. shit .. neil- fuck-“ your voice breaks towards the end as your body twitches, physically incapable of holding back your orgasm at this point. suddenly, it hits. your vision goes white and for a brief moment in time, you forget where you are and what’s happening, and all you feel is that warm euphoric sensation coursing throughout your body.
“good fucking girl. creamed all over my fucking cock.” neil praises through gritted teeth as his thrusts speed up, chasing after his own orgasm. after a few more harsh pumps, neil shakily pulls himself out and begins stroking himself between your legs, shooting his load onto your abused cunt and panties.
you take deep breaths, attempting to regain your composure. without the pleasure flooding your system, you’re able to look at the situation a bit clearer now. the anxiety and guilt over what just unfolded begins to simmer within you.
“that was good, wasn’t it?” neil huffs with a smile on his face, how can he smile after all this?
“come on.” he pries, “you came all over my cock, you know it was good.”
you almost feel sick, it did feel good, but it was all so so wrong. your mind was racing with conflicting thoughts, finding it hard to respond to neil regardless of what the topic is.
“i’ll get you a wet rag and you can clean yourself up, then we can get back to those cookies, yeah?” neil hums as he cups your face sweetly, running his thumb along your cheek.
his gentle touches felt nice, although still unprompted. you decide that maybe it’s best to deal with this newly formed baggage later and attempt to focus on the new situation at hand- cookie baking.
—
last night before i went to sleep forced proximity neil popped into my brain and i just had to spill it all out of you guys. hope you like! (also, i’m making a longer version of that tommy drabble, thank you for the support!)
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x fem!reader#neil lewis#neil lewis x reader#watching the detectives#hope y’all like this#:)
836 notes
·
View notes
Text
Milk and Honey —
Paring | Neil Lewis x Reader
Word Count | 4.9K
Summary | Being a mother is no easy task. After a long day of muscle pains, sleep deprivation and overall exhaustion—your adoring husband comes home to help.
TLDR - Post pregnancy hormones, pent up sexual frustration and— oh dear god milk?!
Info | SMUT (18+ only), unprotected sex (p in v), established relationship, breeding kink, lactation kink, mommy and daddy kink, impregnation, pregnancy body mentioned, milk sipping and titty sucking (hell yeah)
Notes | posting this now or I genuinely never will. Not my proudest work but here we are. I’m also incredibly aware that I am subjecting y’all to my own weird kinks…Don’t worry! It will only get worse from here :)
This piece is dedicated to my coworker Bay who told me she accidentally took 90 “period cramp relief” pills that ended up making her lactate. Love u girl 🫶🏽
Build Your Own Adventure | you already know ;) tested it out, it’s fiiilllthyyyy
You laid in a ball on top of your bed. Freshly washed linens and clothes circling you like vultures.
You were exhausted, sleep deprived and you ached all over. Every movement made your muscles tense and your migraine grow.
It’s been three months since you had given birth to your little bundle of joy. Right about now though, your child was a lot more like a bundle of terror.
The baby rarely ever slept, too hungry to sleep and too stubborn to latch. It’s not the babys fault though, you knew that. It’s just—well, it’s fucking hard work.
——
You tried your best to wait up for your husband, you truly did. But your eyes grew heavy and your body aches slowly melted into a soft tingle as you fell into a much needed slumber.
You were awoken by the sound of your bedroom door closing. Groaning at the sudden intrusion of your dreams, you rolled over to look at your intruder.
“You’re home.” You mumbled to him groggily. Neil quickly slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed next to you, pushing off the clothes and freshly folded linen off the bed in the process.
You groaned and reached out for it, a heavy complaint ready to be expelled. But Neil just grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it, shushing you with the promise of the laundry being cleaned up later.
“The baby asleep?” He asked while he buried his face in between your shoulder and neck. You felt him take a deep inhale as his fingers trailed down your sore body.
“Mhmm,” you hummed, relaxing at the touch of your loving husband.
“Good.” He smiled and placed a gentle kiss to your neck. You craned your head slightly and welcomed it.
Neil’s soft hands traced the peek of skin that was exposed below your shirt. Lines of stretch marks covered your stomach, but he didn’t mind. He never did, he loved every part of you.
“Thank you for taking care of the baby,” Neil placed kisses along your collarbones.
“I’m so lucky to have you.” Fingers trailed up your shirt to the soft and supple mounds that were your breasts.
You didn’t even realize it, but milk had soaked through the thin layer of your shirt; dripping down and making it sticky against your skin.
“So lucky to have you,” he echoed, his hands slightly trembling, his fresh hard on pressing into your thigh.
You loved the attention Neil gave you, but with how sore your body was from recovering, the constant care of your baby and the ever-growing pressure from the milk trapped in your breasts; you were almost at your breaking point.
“Neil— baby, not tonight.” You protested and gently pushed him away. Neil clung on though, his desire for you borderline insatiable.
“What’s wrong, is Mommy not feeling well?” He cooed into your ear, making you tingle all over.
He had started calling you that—mommy—right after you both found out that you were pregnant. It was sweet for the most part. Mostly coming off as innocent, but when he said it like that—
His fingers tweaked at your sore nipples, always hard and leaking these days. You winced slightly, clenching your teeth and letting out a soft hiss.
“Come on, use your words Mommy.” He teased, making your lower half grow slightly hot as you attempted to fight off his advances.
“I’m so exhausted, my body—“ He interrupted you with the slide of one his hands ghosting past your navel and onto the radiating heat between your legs.
“Mhmm, keep going.” He urged you to continue.
You were slowly getting overwhelmed, your shirt dampening more and more, your arousal slowly building, slowing making its way up a steady hill as it always did.
“My body is overworked, Neil. I-I love staying home and caring for the baby, but with the feeding and the—“ His hand slipped between your thighs, cupping your mound.
“—changing and never sleeping, it’s been so tough.. I’m just so overwhelmed.” You breathed out, little tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You took a deep, long breath in and exhaled.
Neil understood, or at least made sure that you knew he listened to your every word. He was always attentive and kind with you but something about carrying his child for nine months really pushed him into overdrive.
During the pregnancy you had made a habit— or well the baby had made a habit of craving weird foods at the oddest hours. Neil spent plenty of nights standing in 7/11’s at 3 in the morning, or mixing all kinds of weird concoctions that you asked for.
Pickles and ice cream, a Banquets Salisbury Steak dinner, a whole raw onion— you could go on and on.
Massages and bubble baths became a nightly routine for you as well—as Neil insisted. Even closing up the store earlier so he’d have time to cook you dinner.
You thought about these moments as Neil coddled you close to him. Even with all these wonderful things he’s done, there was never an expectation for repayment or a favor due. You simply being his wife, the mother of his child was more than enough.
Neil pushed back the strands of hair that clung to your forehead, you just knew you looked like a mess.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He consoled you as the tears started to build up, you were exhausted and your pregnancy hormones haven’t exactly worn off yet apparently.
“I know it’s been really hard on you since I’ve been back at the store, but you have been doing such an amazing job.” Neil said softly, running his thumbs over your damp cheeks and kissing the top of your head. He wrapped you close to his chest; the damp patch on your shirt now soaking into his.
He cupped your chin in his hand and tilted your head up to look at him.
“You’re the best wife anyone could ask for.” He said earnestly, his gaze passionate and affirming. He always told you this and it never got old. Butterflies would swoon in your chest at the sound of him calling you his wife. It felt like most days you were lucky just to have him.
“But you’re right, this isn’t a job for one person..” He shifted and pulled himself closer to you so you were both eye level.
“Let me take off just a few more weeks, so you can get a break.” He tried reasoning with you but you were having none of it.
“Neil you can’t, you’ve already taken off more time than you should. John and Lucien need you, the store needs you.” You objected. This wasn’t the first time you’ve both have had this conversation.
“They’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Plus I miss you and the baby so much, every minute I’m counting down till I can see you guys next.”
Neil’s words made your heart grow fonder but the answer was still no.
“Neil—“ you protested and finally he caved.
“Okay, okay well at least let my mom come and help, she loves you guys so much and I know she wouldn’t mind.” He offered.
“Are you sure…? I really don’t want to bother her-“
“I’m positive. I can call her tomorrow.” He assured and you pondered over it for a minute. It was a no brainer really, so you agreed.
“Okay..” you relented, nodding your head while he held it in his hands.
“Yeah? Okay.” he nodded with a big goofy smile on his face. He placed a passionate kiss to your lips before peppering your face with little pecks. You laughed, already your dampened mood brightening. He always knew how to cheer you up.
Carefully, he placed himself between your legs, pushing himself up so he was leaning over you. One of his hands traced your hip as he stared down into your eyes.
Your hair had been pulled back into a bun except for the few stray pieces, you had slight bags under your eyes and now even more the milk stain was obvious.
“You poor thing..” He purred, as he took you in.
“Overworking your body to take care of my child..” He brought his hand up to trace your cheek lightly.
“I think it’s time you let daddy take care of you.” He whispered against your ear, making the room grow steadily hotter and hotter.
You looked into his eyes, basically swimming in them as his pupils grew wider with each passing second. He was ready to dive in, to pamper and devour all in one.
Before you could say anything, his hands crawled up your wasted shirt and cupped your enlarged breasts. Every chance he could he’d have his hands on them. Rubbing, groping, licking, pinching—all of the above. It was only lately where you couldn’t stand them being played with and it was driving Neil insane.
You winced and grabbed his wrist, urging him to stop.
“They’re sore.. please.” You begged and Neil leaned down to place another kiss to your hand.
“I’ll be gentle.” Neil assured and went back to what he was doing. He slid the shirt over your head, lifting your arms and slipping it past your head and shoulders.
His hands gently wound their way around your tits, pushing them together and watching as the milk dribbled out, just a little, just enough for a taste.
“Neil—“ you whispered in distress and he shushed you lightly. He craned his head and scooted down so his hard on was pressing up against your heat.
“They’re so full.” He admired, his eyes taking mental shots at the sight of them. He had been touched starved for the past three months, his body basically itching to be close to you.
Since giving birth you’ve both been either too exhausted to be intimate or too busy. Any other chance he could though, he was rubbing himself against you or fondling you. Each time being met with a giggle and swatting him away, or him finishing in his pants while you laid there and encouraged him.
He couldn’t help it though, when it came to you he was a depraved man. Never getting enough of you—truly insatiable.
You watched him as he slowly licked the circumference of your nipple, lapping up the droplets of milk like he was dehydrated. You gasped seeing him relish in the taste and latch his mouth to the bud.
It started slow, his mouth kitten licking and prodding, never using his teeth no matter how badly he wanted to nip at you.
Soon though his focus was completely centered around your tits. His eyes fluttered shut and soft moans escaped his lips, vibrating around it.
It still hurt of course, and not necessarily in a good way. It was painful for him to even touch them but you enjoyed seeing him like this so much that you fought through it. You carded your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly, knowing he loved when you did that.
That elicited a whimper from him as his eyes snapped open and softened when he met your gaze. Your pupils equally the size of saucers as you stared down at this wonderful sight in front of you.
Neil’s lips latched tighter and gently he started to suck, keeping his eyes on you the entire time as you gasped at the feeling—the pull.
He brought both hands to your breasts as his hips ground into your clothed heat. He had one focus now, and it was drinking every last drop of you till you were spent.
“Fuck, Neil,” you whined, finding all of this oddly pleasurable. This was most definitely new, sure he had sucked on your nipples before but he’s never drank from them.
You watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, his breathing labored, body hungry for more. You watched a droplet of milk spill from the corner of his mouth, his throat swallowing, basically gulping down as much as he possibly could.
He pulled off just enough to take a breath, and move to the next one. The one hand that wasn’t being occupied holding your tits in place, slithered down and slipped past your pants and panties, finding a goldmine of wetness waiting for him.
Neil moaned and looked up at you to watch your reaction as he brought two digits to your clit. Moving in slow, diligent circles and making you squirm as you pressed your body up into his fingers. It’s been a long three months for the both of you.
“Does that feel good, mommy? Do you like when I touch you like this?” He teased, making you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from whimpering.
“Y-Yes.” You choked out, slowly losing your mind to his aggressive touches.
Neil licked at his milky lips, savoring the taste before he pressed them to yours, forcing you to taste your own creation.
His tongue tasted sweet, like cantaloupe juice, and you wondered if that’s what it really tasted like. Neil pulled back and smirked at you, his fingers still working you into a frenzy.
“Tastes good right? Tastes so fucking good.” He moaned and finally couldn’t take it anymore. Without even consoling you, he yanked at the hem of your pants and underwear, shoving them down your thighs and passed your ankles.
You clung to yourself now, not entirely used to your post pregnancy body being put on display. Neither of you has made love quite like this in a while.
“Fuck baby,” the words slipped right off his tongue like melted butter. He pried your arms back and hungrily kissed at your chest, slowly making his way down.
His movements were quick and passionate, diving into your body like a sweet dessert. He kissed down your stomach, leaving a trail of spit behind, stopping close to your abdomen and just loving the feeling of your bush rubbing against his chin.
“You just taste so good— I can’t help myself.” He mouthed at your supple skin. His hands still trailing behind him, groping and fondling at every inch of your skin.
“I needed this. I needed this so bad baby, you have no idea.” He whined and his lips trailed over your inner thighs. He wanted to take his time with you, to make you feel good, and he would even as his own erection was pressing harshly against his jeans.
He latched his mouth to your dripping cunt, the warm, wet heat calling out to him, begging to be licked clean.
He did just that, filling the room with lewd slurping sounds as a mix of your moans blended together perfectly. You almost forgot about the sleeping baby in the other room.
“Neil, the baby is sleeping, w-we have to be quiet.” You warned in between a gasp, his mouth mercilessly working you into a mind-bending orgasm.
He sucked especially hard and pulled off, making you clutch the sheets for dear life.
“Yeah?” He whispered to you, his voice low and raspy. Even in the dimming light of the room, as the sun started to settle; you could see him. His lips and chin were slick with your juices. It was like a scene straight out of a porno—a good porno, of course.
You nodded at him and swallowed hard, he wasn’t asking for clarification, he was challenging you.
“Well then we better be quiet, right?” He teased and you nodded again.
His hand gripped your breast and tweaked the nipple, little teardrops of milk spilling out onto his fingers. You winced slightly at the manhandling but let him continue.
“Here, try some.” He said, collecting some of it and shoving his fingers into your mouth. Just when you started to suck them clean, he slipped two fingers inside of you making you arch your back and moan loudly around his digits.
“That’s right, Mommy can take it. Mommy can take it real good.” He praised you and moved both sets of fingers in sync. You clenched around him hard when his thumb swiped up at your already aroused clit. Slow and steady at first but picking up speed quickly.
You mouthed obscenities around him as he continued finger fucking you and he just took it all in. Biting his bottom lip, he was at the precipice of his own desire. The fact that he could do this to you, the fact that he could drive you crazy like this.. it was his only purpose.
Neil became uncomfortably aware of how much clothes he had on shortly after and pulled away just long enough to slip himself free of his confines. You laid there, trying to catch your breath and trying to stop your legs from shaking.
You watched him flip back the buckle of his belt and yank down his trousers and underwear in one swift move.
You stared at his erection, making mental note that the tip was slick with precum, it made your cunt ache more than it’s ever before.
You reached for him in desperation and he met you halfway. Neil pulled himself on top of you and feverishly ground himself against you.
Slipping his cock between your folds, right against your clit and using your own arousal as his lubrication. He bucked into you, a deep growl escaping his lips with each thrust upward.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about this all week..” He confessed with his eyes closed.
“Every time I watch you put the dishes away or bend over to pick something up—“ he slid his cock roughly against your clit once again.
“—all I could think about was fucking you right then and there.” you mewled at his confession though you already knew he wanted to.
“I just want to fuck you over every countertop, rip your fucking clothes off of you and fill that pretty pussy of yours.” This desperate act of him humping against you was pushing you close to the edge, as pathetic as it was to admit. Again, it’s been a long three months.
“Can you imagine that? Us having another baby, your belly all big again—and god those milky tits getting bigger than ever.” He fondled at your breasts, making more warm milk leak from them.
His depraved words only brought both of you closer to the edge. You knew he wouldn’t finish this way, he liked it inside.
You moaned and arched your back with each drag of his cock down your sensitive bud, each movement only producing more and more lubrication.
Your fingers made lines of red down his back as you clawed. Each heave of your chests making the room grow stuffier and stuffier.
“Can you imagine that baby? Tell me how badly you want it.” Neil urged, his hips slowing down, adding more pressure every time he moved towards you.
“Y-Yes..” you said weakly. You were completely loss for words, you had no idea he was so into that. “I can—I can imagine that.” You croaked, which only made a wicked smirk form on his face.
“Just look you, poor thing hasn’t been properly fucked in months. Hasn’t had Daddy’s cock to come all over.” His words basically made your eyes roll to the back of your head. His never-ending teasing making your pussy twitch and physically yearn for him.
Neil felt it, oh he felt it alright and it only drove him more mad. “Ooh you like that don’t you? Why don’t you come like this. Come on, come for me.”
You went to object, opening your mouth to beg him not to make you come like this; like you were some horny teenager rubbing herself off on her pillow, it felt dirty and depraved—which you were by all means— but you wanted more, you wanted to feel him.
Neil stopped you, “No whining, just do it.” He insisted and you could barely contain the high pitched whimper that left your lips as your cavern squeezed around itself, desperate for something to latch onto as wave after wave hit your body over and over again.
You threw your head back and about halfway through your orgasm you remembered the importance of staying quiet.
Neil kept on rubbing his perpetually leaking cock up and down your clit till your thighs twitched and you became desperate to get away.
Now that your opening was slick and so beyond ready, he slowly slid in. Inch by inch, he filled your sensitive cunt. He relished in the feeling, the grip tight and still fluttering from your orgasm.
“Neil!” You gasped, not expecting the burn from the stretch that met you. It hurt, which was to be expected but this felt different compared to what you were used to. It felt like he was tunneling a hole into you. Splitting you but also igniting you in the best way possible.
“Fuuuck…” he drawled out, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked himself slowly in and out, over and over again.
Neil knelt over you, his elbows slotted on each side of your head. He leaned in so his lips were just grazing yours, his tongue slipping out to swipe at your parted lips.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this—you have no idea how much I’ve missed this.” He said, emphasizing his words with deeper thrusts. “How much I missed you.”
You felt your ears grow hot as your arousal bubbled up again. It was a heat that was so indescribable and so delicious it made your mouth water. You nodded, your chest rising and falling, labored breaths leaving you.
Neil fell into a slow and brutal pace. You could feel every inch of him, every curve and vein as he fucked you into oblivion. The speed only made your head spin and you found yourself digging lines down his back once more.
“Oh my god, baby. You know how I love it when you do that.” He moaned for you, slotting his head in between your shoulder.
Each word made you wetter and wetter. Soon enough the whole room was filled with soft squelching noises. It only seemed to spur Neil on because in seconds he pulled back, sitting back on his knees and gripped your hips for support as he looked down at you.
“I could come right now.” He said, his glazed eyes roaming over your body. He watched the way his thrusts made your breasts move, watching them jiggle as little droplets dribbled down the curve of them and onto the sheets.
“I could fill you up so good, have you walking around the rest of the day with my come leaking out of you… but I can’t.” He resigned with a sigh and angled his hips slightly upwards before slamming into you full force.
The wind was knocked out of you instantly. Gasping and trying desperately to ground yourself you clawed at the sheets, inevitably pulling them loose from the tucked corners of the bed.
He was fucking you so hard you could hear the loose screw in the frame rattling with each thrust inward.
“Neil please!” You begged but you weren’t even sure for what. For him to slow down? For him to stop? Oh no, no, no—that just wouldn’t do.
“I can’t baby, not when I need to feel you come all over me. Need to see that pretty little face as I—“ He gripped at your cheeks for emphasis, making your jaw hang open and your lips pouty. He leaned over just enough to spit into your gaping mouth and moved your jaw closed so you would swallow it.
“—fuck you into this mattress.” He finished. You felt your chest tighten, all the muscles in your thighs and stomach seizing for a moment as another wave of ecstasy hit you.
His filthy words filled your ears like angels singing and you nodded along, your body already climbing to your next orgasm.
You would do anything he said in this moment as long as he kept doing what he was doing. If he wanted another baby—fine. If he wanted you to scale the Empire State Building—that’s fine too.
You felt pressure building up, like weights were being placed against the bundle of nerves inside of you. You knew you could come like this if he kept up his brutal pace but you needed more and well—Neil had no problem delivering.
He moved your legs so they now rested against his shoulders and leaned forward. He went impossibly deep and both of you let out an animalistic moan.
He sped up quick, sounds of his thighs slapping against yours echoing off the walls. He reached for your hand that was bunched in the messy sheets and placed it between your thighs.
“Touch yourself for me.” He ordered and you didn’t hesitate.
You brought two fingers down and started rubbing in rhythmic circles making the deepest parts inside your pussy start to twitch. Neil’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open as you watched him tremble at the feeling of you—at the sight of you.
You were so clearly everything to him, and having you like this—your knees to your chest, split open and fucking writhing underneath him.. He’d call it heaven—scratch that—better than heaven.
“I-I’m close.” You choked out, your voice growing higher in pitch as he continued pounding his cock deeper and deeper into you.
Neil’s eyes returned to you, meeting your lust filled gaze before latching his lips down onto your nipple and starting to suck again.
It felt like he was dragging every ounce of energy out of you. Purely sucking the soul out of you.
You brought your free hand up to his hair, latching on and gripping so hard onto his locks you thought you’d rip them out.
“Neil, Neil, neil…” You chanted his name. The bed shook with you both, squeaks and rattling, the sound of flesh meeting flesh. It was too good. Too raw. And there was little to no care in keeping quiet anymore.
“Yeah baby, keep saying my name. Let everyone know who fucks you this good.” Neil purred, removing himself long enough from your tits to speak and then immediately returning back to suck them dry.
“Fuck!” You gasped one last time as you clamped down on him. Everything tensed for a long minute and you swore you blacked out. A soft ringing filled your ears, toes curling beside his ear, thighs trembling.
Neil moaned loudly, his mouth full and vibrating around your sore and hardened nipples. There was pain and pleasure mixing like a lethal cocktail, making you spill all around him.
The base of his cock grew sticky and the wet sounds only amplified. His thrusts grew erratic but never lost their strength.
You watched Neil detach from your nipple long enough to see the milky liquid stain his lips. He gaped at you, mouth hanging open and breathing heavy. Hunger. Deep and vicious in his eyes.
“Tell me you want another baby.” He said in a strained low voice.
“Tell me how bad you want it.” He ordered. You were surprised he still had the strength to tease you, to make you beg.
“I want it.” You said without hesitating. He was still fucking you through your sensitivity which was starting to make you squirm but he liked it that way.
“Say it again.” He demanded with desperation.
“I want a-another baby Neil.” You could barely get out as he slammed particularly hard into you.
“More.” He all but growled. You could tell he was there, right on the tipping age. He was always more.. demanding when he was close.
“I-I want another baby. Fuck—I love you so much, I’d do anything for you.” The words spilled from your lips without even thinking.
It was a drop of tenderness in an act that would surely get you both sent to hell if you weren’t already married. But it buried Neil, hammering in the last nail towards completion.
Neil stilled for a moment, his full body weight pressing down on you as his thighs shook against yours.
He gaped for a second, the room falling eerily quiet as his orgasm sucked the air out of him. He gasped loudly, “Fuuuck..” drawled from his throat.
You felt him flex inside you over and over again, the head of his member hitting your sweet spot every time a hot gushing dose of come spilled from it.
His hands gripped the back of your knees for support as he pumped the last bit of it deep inside of you.
You tried to catch your breath but under the weight of him, it was proving to be difficult. Before you could say anything though, Neil pushed his lips to yours.
Lazy, sweet and all tongue. He lapped at your lips and then pressed his tongue to the back of your teeth. You hummed into the kiss, pulling him in deeper by the back of his head.
You both laid there for a moment, lip locked and absolutely wrecked. You pulled away just to tell him that he was starting to crush you, but of course, just a second later you heard the crackles of the baby monitor next to you, and soon enough the baby’s cries could be heard.
Neil smiled down at you, that same goofy smile that had you hooked from day one. “I’ll get him, you stay here and rest up.” He said already pulling away and out of you.
“You deserve it.” He added, placing one last kiss upon your nose and turning towards the closet to pull out some fresh clothes.
You deserve it.
#holy moly this was a process#becs fics#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy characters#cillian x fem!reader#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis#watching the detectives#READ THE TAGS PLS
291 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part one) | neil lewis x reader
title comes from the song you already know by bombay bicycle club
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you've been best friends with neil basically your entire life, and secretly in love with him almost as long. will you ever find the courage to tell him the truth?
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k
𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut, angst, pining/unrequited love - 18+ only
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | alcohol consumption, 'kid' as a petname, reader being kind of a femcel, jonathan being kind of mvp??
Neil had asked you to make sure the Thriller section was alphabetized; sometimes you thought he was just giving you tasks to look busy, but then again, you could probably use it since the employees of Gumshoe Video never looked very busy. You spent most of the day on the couches, watching whatever old bizarre gem Neil put on— sometimes you thought he only had employees other than himself so that he could pay people to sit here and watch this stuff with him.
But, the point is, you were sorting tapes. Because everyone needs their VHS thriller movies to be in perfect alphabetical order.
There actually was a customer in the store, for once, so it was better not to be on the couch anyhow. You hadn’t really noticed him when he came in, but as he wandered around the shelves, he seemed to drift towards you.
You tried to ignore him when he stopped right beside you— and kneeling to look at the lowest shelf, he towered over you— but when you stood up he got your attention.
"Need any help, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning in a little too close. "I'm kind of a movie buff."
He had a frat guy kind of look about him— polo, boat shoes, quaffed blonde hair. He could be good-looking, you thought, if he didn’t dress like a discount Abercrombie model… and if he didn’t hit on random women at the video store. "I actually work here," you corrected, barely looking up from your task. This is why we need uniforms instead of just dressing up to promote specials…
"Oh, really?" he smirked. "What made you wanna work in a place like this?"
"My best friend owns the place," you explained, "and I'm, you know… kind of a movie buff."
"Right," he said, not seeming convinced. "You like Kubrick?"
You rolled your eyes so hard you almost choked: Wow, what a deep cut. But you kept a straight-ish face when you looked at him. "Yeah, he's pretty good. Don't care for how he treats his actors, but he was certainly a visionary."
"What are your top five favorite Kubrick movies?"
You knew this guy was a tool, but you were still a bit shocked that he actually had the gall to quiz you. "Excuse me?" you scoffed incredulously.
"Can you even name five?" he asked, looking horribly proud of himself, and you straightened up as you glared at him.
"You're heterosexual, right?" you asked him, getting a confused nod. "Can you name five women you've made come?"
Neil watched the guy storm out, Lucien cringed a bit from behind the register— and Jonathan, not seeming as if he had been paying attention at all, kept laying across the couch and tossing a ball up in the air to catch and throw again.
“Okay, that’s gotta be the third this week,” Lucien groaned. “What are you saying to these guys?”
“Nothing worse than what they’re saying to me,” you assured with a frustrated, sarcastic smile.
“Listen, don’t get me wrong,” Neil began, “that guy totally deserved it— but maybe, you know… work on your demeanor with customers?”
“Wow,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, “do you think I should smile more, too?”
“Wha— no!” Neil denied.
“Yes,” Lucien said at the same time, though he changed his answer with an awkward cough and mumble when you both shot him a look. “No, no— you’re good— you smile too much, even…”
“I don’t mean it like that,” Neil promised. “But I think half the guys that come here are just coming here to see you! Nobody even rents movies anymore.” He groaned a little, dropping his shoulders defeatedly. “Can’t you… tell them you’ll go out with them if they rent something?”
“What?!” you squeaked. “No!”
“Sales would double,” Lucien nodded.
“No,” you said again. “I’m not letting you pimp me out to sell tapes, Neil.”
“I just mean— maybe you don’t really go out with them,” he suggested. “Just… allude to the fact that you’re only interested in guys who…”
He trailed off as he searched around the shelves for a bit, smiling when he snagged a copy of The Maltese Falcon.
“— in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” he grinned, “you know— for example. Then they rent it to impress you and we make a few bucks.”
“I am only interested in guys who like The Maltese Falcon,” you frowned, snatching the tape away and shoving it back on the shelf. “But that’s not the point.”
“Maybe you have to be more straightforward, you know,” Jonathan butted in as he sat up, “guys are dumb.”
“Yeah!” Neil agreed a little too easily.
“Just say something about how a massive VHS collection turns you on,” Lucien suggested, and you glared at him.
“Jesus!” you protested, but Neil tried to soothe you a bit.
"C'mon, kid, can't you just… flirt a little? Get our sales up?"
He'd started calling you kid since you two watched Casablanca together— which was especially stupid as you were both twelve at the time. At first you complained because he shouldn't be calling you kid with you both being kids; then you complained because neither of you were kids; and then you gave up. You still punched Lucien for trying to call you that once… you only barely let Neil get away with it anyways.
But you let Neil get away with a lot. It was a side effect of being secretly, but massively, in love with him.
It had been an issue since middle school— that was when the two of you became such good friends. Technically, you’d known each other since first grade (where you had shared your crayons, a true test of friendship at the time), and you’d sort of had a crush on him as early as elementary school (mainly because he was the only boy you could stand at the time), but it all kicked into high gear in seventh grade. That was when you became inseparable, when you got in trouble together, when you stayed up all night watching movies, when you went through all of life’s ups and downs together: you even went to prom together, platonically of course.
As for your feelings, you’d managed to hide them this long and still be his best friend, even when it sometimes felt like letting him stomp all over your heart without even trying. Honestly, the only thing harder than being in love with Neil was trying not to be in love with Neil: you adored his sense of humor, his generosity, his sensitivity— and he’d been there for you through the things you couldn’t have imagined surviving alone. That kinda stuff bonds you to somebody… and when that somebody has the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, it’s hard not to fall in love.
“Maybe I would flirt if I knew how,” you offered. “But I’m not exactly, you know, flirty.”
“How hard could it be?” Jonathan interjected. “Just, you know—”
You stared in quiet disbelief as Jonathan attempted to push his chest together with his arms. It wasn’t quite working, of course, and the rest of you watched on as he fumbled around trying to force some cleavage. “You look like an idiot,” you finally informed him after letting him do it for a minute.
“But is he wrong?” Lucien wondered.
“So, what, you guys really think that if I just went up to customers and—” you pushed your breasts together with your arms, accentuating them significantly in your tank top.
“That would work,” all three men asserted in unison before you could even finish.
“I fucking hate you guys,” you grumbled under your breath as you walked to the back, deciding to take your break in Neil’s office until these guys got their act together.
You never stayed gone for long, though— as idiotic as they could be, your friends were certainly charming. They won you back with a promise to let you pick what tape to put on, and the four of you ended up laying on the couches watching Roman Holiday.
When the movie was almost over, you rested your head on Neil’s shoulder; you guys did stuff like that, it was normal for you, but it always made your heart skip anyways.
~
This time, you were all hanging out at Jonathan’s primary workplace: the club. In fact, it was a much larger crowd than just you and the guys— plenty of your local friends and loyal supporters of Gumshoe Video, all sitting around a big table while someone’s mediocre cover band took the stage.
"So, uh, me and Denise broke up," Neil said suddenly, going back in for another swig of beer right after.
The others offered their mild shock and half-hearted condolences, but you knew it was going to happen— he'd told you before he did it. You tried to tell him that paying off a waiter to spill water on her was a weird way to prove what he already knew, but you couldn't disagree with his conclusion. She was definitely difficult, and shockingly judgemental for someone who managed to date a video store owner for this long.
“No, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he promised, “I don’t think anybody’s too surprised, right?”
There was an awkward hesitation among the group as they wondered if they should lie, or just fess up now that he was obviously accurate. You broke the silence to suggest someone go get another round of drinks for the table, and even though that was pretty much a one-man job, nearly everyone agreed and quickly shuffled off— leaving just you, Neil, and Lucien.
“I guess tonight’s your chance to meet somebody new, don’t you think?” Lucien suggested. “Get over Denise, you know.”
“I think I’m already over Denise,” Neil decided.
“And if I told you that girl back there,” Lucien returned, pointing with the hand still holding his drink, “has been looking over here at you for the past ten minutes?”
You glanced where Lucien was pointing as well, seeing a girl in a denim mini skirt and massive hoop earrings settle her eyes on Neil before looking away quickly with a lip-gloss lacquered smile.
“I think I need some help getting over Denise,” Neil agreed suddenly, patting Lucien on the back before he left the table.
You wanted to pout, but you were used to this— he was good-looking, he got a lot of attention from women in places like this… it usually didn’t work out for him, though. Certainly not never, probably more often than most guys, but… definitely not every time.
You tried not to look over too much, you didn’t want to get caught spying or, even worse, looking a little jealous— but you noticed that every time you looked over at them, Neil was talking. That was his problem, see: he never fucking shuts up. Guys, girls, anybody who will listen— if you admit to not knowing about his favorite fifty-year-old spaghetti western or the most recent pre-Code horror comedy he watched, he’ll gladly blab to you about it for ages. The first time you glanced at them, you saw her giving him doe eyes, laughing at something he said— and the last time, those eyes had glazed over and her laugh seemed more nervous and confused; you smirked to yourself. He’s still Neil…
“So, um,” you struck up a conversation with Lucien, “what about you? Anybody here catching your eye?”
“That’s actually the perfect descriptor of my type,” he replied. “Anybody.”
You snorted. “Then you should go, you know, talk to anybody?”
He shrugged and frowned a bit, and it was a simple movement but you understood completely.
The band started to play a new song, something upbeat and energetic, and you smiled. “Wanna dance with me?”
“Oh, I don’t think I’m drunk enough for that—” Lucien began to protest, but a minute later you were dragging him up by the stage. Neither of you were actually any good at dancing, mainly you were just kind of jumping and flailing around together, but it was fun and that was the point.
Eventually, more of your friends wandered in to join you; when the song ended, everyone clapped and cheered, the band bowing in gratitude. You only stole one more look over at Neil and his conversation partner, watching her interrupt his rant with a hand on his shoulder: your throat felt a little dry. You just hoped what she was saying was more like hey, my friends are leaving, I’ve gotta go and not hey, wanna come over to my place so you can keep explaining German expressionism to me?
Your heart dropped when he reached for her— what if he kissed her now? What if he wrapped her up under his arm and they walked out together? What if you had to spend the whole night thinking about him having sex with her?
“Hey, we should ask them if they know any Strokes songs!” Lucien suggested, tugging on your arm to get your attention, but your mind was elsewhere.
“Uh huh, yeah,” you mumbled blankly, and he frowned at you.
“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to look for what you were seeing; but Neil wasn’t reaching for her, he was lifting his hand to wave goodbye as she left. You beamed, even though you did feel a little bad when you saw Neil’s shoulders sink— it’s not that you wanted him to be alone forever, you were just relieved that you might have a few more moments to breathe before he got with somebody again.
“Nothing, sorry,” you answered Lucien, giving him your attention again. “What’d you say?”
“We should ask the band if they—”
And immediately, Lucien lost your focus as you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at Neil again— he was already looking at you, seeing you all on the dancefloor. You waved for him to join you, and he smiled as he made his way towards the stage. A new song began, even louder than the last, and you could blame that for not hearing Lucien’s question for the second time in a row.
Although he danced with you all for a few moments, Neil draped his arms over your and Lucien’s shoulders, nearly yelling to be heard over the music.
“You guys are coming over tonight for a movie, right?” he presumed. “Jonathan’s working ‘til late so he’s out, but—”
“Sorry, I’ve gotta be up early,” Lucien explained, “my brother and his wife are visiting, remember? We’re getting brunch and—”
“Whatever, party pooper,” Neil frowned, before suddenly smiling at you. “Guess it’s just me and you, huh, kid?”
You tried not to sigh too noticeably through your smile. “Yeah, me and you…” you agreed.
~
As you groggily blinked your eyes open, you found Neil staring at you, his face uncomfortably close to yours, with a big smile. “Mornin’, kid,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
You yelped and nearly jumped out of your skin while he laughed. “Jesus Christ, Neil!” you shouted, kicking off the blanket on you— and then you began to process where you were and why. “God,” you groaned as you held your head in your hands, while Neil kept laughing at you, “did I fall asleep on the couch again?”
It was sort of a rhetorical question— obviously you had, it would be much stranger if you woke up on the video store couch without having fallen asleep there. “Yeah,” he said, standing up and sighing a bit, “but you didn’t miss that much of the movie.”
“What happened at the end?” you asked, stretching your legs and snatching the blanket off the floor to fold up; Neil must have put it on you after you dozed off.
“No, we can finish it later,” he decided, walking up to the register, and you groaned.
“Seriously? Not even falling asleep gets me out of finishing The Man Who Laughs?”
He smiled a little as he started prepping the store for open. “Nope,” he said proudly, popping his lips on the p sound.
“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” you assured, getting up and trying to ignore the soreness in your back from sleeping on a ratty old sofa all night— you remembered helping Neil carry this thing from where he found it on the side of the road. Considering you knew where it came from, it was a wonder you ever sat on it, let alone slept on it… but this happened relatively often. Sometimes it almost felt like you slept easier here or at Neil’s apartment than your own.
You stood up and stretched your arms, sparing a glance over at him.
“Can I run home and change?” you asked, and he frowned.
“We open in ten minutes,” he noticed, “you won’t be back in time.”
“Yes, and who will serve the clamoring crowds that await our open outside?” you rolled your eyes, gesturing out the storefront to the abandoned sidewalk. “You can handle it on your own.”
“Just go to my place,” he shrugged, “it’s closer. And I think you left some jeans there anyway.”
Right— you’d borrowed a pair of his sweats to get comfy for a movie night, and forgot to take the jeans back when you left. You yourself had one of Neil’s short-sleeve button-ups at your place, when you’d both changed there for a costume party, but you let him believe it was just lost… it was too late to tell him now that you had it, ‘cause then he might ask why you kept it so long and then he might, somehow, deduce that you had been cuddling it at night from time to time…
“Right, okay,” you nodded, “but I still need a shirt.”
“Just borrow one of mine,” he said, like it was no big deal at all and didn’t make your heart skip.
For a second you wondered if you should protest— if he was still dating Denise, you probably would’ve said something. But you decided not to say anything, in case he changed his mind; you nearly bolted out of the store and down the two blocks to his apartment.
Your jeans were on the dresser, draped haphazardly in their same just-peeled-off shape you must have left them in last week. You grumbled to yourself a little about how he could’ve folded them for you so they wouldn’t be wrinkled… but then again, all his jeans were wrinkled, so he clearly didn’t know any better.
And now the fun part: picking a shirt. You smiled to yourself as you opened the drawer, perusing through t-shirts with old movie posters and semi-witty slogans… cute, sure, but those were pretty similar to what you already wore.
But the button-downs? Those were quintessential Neil, and you'd be wasting an opportunity if you didn't put one of those on.
You felt a little giddy as you opened the next drawer down and found them all folded. The first one you saw had light blue and white stripes, so you snatched it up and slipped it on.
The fit was definitely off, but you let yourself indulge in a fantasy for a moment: waking up here, in Neil's bed… in Neil's arms. You'd slip on his shirt while you went to find some breakfast, and he'd hum something about how pretty you look in his clothes, and you'd end up tangled in the sheets again not too much later.
Sighing to yourself, you buttoned the last button, leaving the two at the top undone so you didn't look too formal, and headed back to the store for opening.
Neil stared at you for a second when you walked in— at the shirt, specifically. You waited for him to say something, but he didn't. "What, should I not wear this one?" you asked, looking down at it as well, and he shook his head.
"No, no, it's fine— sorry," he mumbled, "just start sorting out last night's returns, please."
You definitely got a much stronger reaction from Jonathan, as soon as he walked in the door.
(Why was he here when he wasn't even working today? Who knows— he was just always here somehow.)
“Hey! You look even more like a lesbian than usual,” Jonathan greeted with a peppy fake-smile as he approached you, and you smirked a bit.
“Don’t blame me, it’s his shirt,” you nodded towards Neil.
“See, I told you you dress like a— wait,” Jonathan stopped mid-insult, looking back at you, then at Neil again, then at you; he pointed his fingers at each of you, crossing them back and forth. “Did… you two…?”
You narrowed your eyes, waiting for him to explain what he meant.
“Did you guys hook up?!” Jonathan accused, wide-eyed.
You felt your face getting warm, and you stammered out your denial; Neil started waving his hands in disagreement as well, but Jonathan was already on a roll.
“Oh my god!” he yelped. “The one time I miss movie night here and it gets freaky! Should’ve known better than to leave you two lovebirds alone—”
“Jonathan, we didn’t—” you choked.
“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Neil butted in. “She just borrowed my shirt! ‘Cause she— because—”
“I mean, we’ve kinda all been waiting for this to happen— but I never really thought it would,” Jonathan steamrolled along. “Well, yeah, I guess I thought it would, I just—”
“Wait wait wait, what?” Neil shook his head, stepping up closer to the two of you. “What does that mean?”
Finally, he seemed to get Jonathan’s attention, who began to nervously backtrack as both of you stared at him. “W-well, I just mean—” he started.
“And who’s ‘we all’?” Neil noticed. “This isn’t just you, thinking this?”
“I… I mean,” Jonathan scoffed, “you know— just, just some people… we thought that maybe… that since you two are so close, that you might—”
“Wow,” Neil chuckled, crossing his arms in disappointment. “You know, that’s so reductive. For a bunch of progressive, free-thinking hipsters—” he waved his hands as he said it in a mocking way— “you’re really just, like… like… you know, not! ‘Cause apparently men and women can’t really be friends?”
“No, come on, not like that,” Jonathan denied, “of course we can—”
“I mean, you’re her friend, you’re both single,” Neil noticed, gesturing between the two of you, “why don’t you two, just, you know… hook up!”
You cringed a little as Jonathan tugged at his collar nervously. “Well, I—”
“Come on, why not?” Neil went on, smiling at the suggestion even though he was clearly unamused. “I mean, she’s nice, she’s pretty, she’s got a vagina— why don’t you hit on her?”
“Hey, come on, Neil,” Jonathan sighed, “I’m well aware she’s got a vagina—”
“So what’s the problem?” Neil insisted. “Clearly you can’t just be friends with someone with a vagina—”
“I would really prefer if we didn’t talk about my vagina anymore,” you mumbled nervously.
“— how come you never hit on her, Jonny?” Neil pressed, backing him into a corner metaphorically— but also somewhat literally, he was leaning in and Jonathan was pressing his back more and more against the shelves.
“You really want me to answer that?” Jonathan replied, almost threatening. That made you furrow your brow a bit. It seemed like a rhetorical question, Neil trying to prove a point, but you didn’t expect Jonathan to have a literal answer.
“Yeah, sure,” Neil decided, “enlighten us.”
Neil glanced at you, like you were just as gung-ho about this interrogation, but you were feeling a little sick. You understood the spirit of Neil’s argument— and technically, you agreed with him— but it still stung to see him so incensed at the suggestion of you two together. You were trying not to take it personally, it wasn’t like he was disgusted by you or anything… he even said just now that you were pretty, and he’d told you that before, but… it still bothered you a little, for reasons you couldn’t quite describe and that you were sure were illogical.
“I never hit on her,” Jonathan answered, lowering his voice, “because I… I figured it would piss you off.”
That seemed to surprise you both, maybe for different reasons; you bit your lip to suppress a smile. Did Jonathan really think Neil was that protective over you? “Why would it piss me off?” Neil wondered, but he sounded a little defensive— defensive in a caught-red-handed sort of way.
“I… I don’t know,” Jonathan shrugged. “That’s just the vibe I got, okay? That she’s sorta… off-limits.”
Neil hesitated. “Well… she’s not,” he decided. “You’re grown-ups. Whatever you wanna do is none of my business— as long as you’re not being, you know, creepy or an asshole.”
“Of course,” Jonathan agreed, most of the tension settling as Neil backed up a step.
“Okay, well, ask her out then,” Neil instructed firmly.
“I didn’t say I wanted to!” Jonathan sputtered.
“Neil, Jesus!” you complained simultaneously, and he seemed to relent, shrugging as he walked back to the register.
“Sorry, sorry,” he dismissed, “just letting you know it’s… fine with me!”
You rolled your eyes a bit and looked back at Jonathan. “Sorry,” you offered him quietly, “he’s… I don’t know. He gets weird about that.”
“Oh really?” Jonathan scoffed sarcastically. “Didn’t notice.”
“The real reason you shouldn’t be hitting on me is because we’re coworkers, by the way,” you reminded him.
“Hey, I only work here part-time,” Jonathan noticed, “so I think that means it’s cool as long as we only go out part-time.”
You snorted, but he seemed to get nervous.
“You know I’m kidding, right?” he added quickly, and you nodded with a laugh.
~
"You know, I was thinking— we don't have many events at the store these days,” Neil mumbled around a bite of pretzel, watching you play your turn at Skee Ball. Normally he would put coins in the machine beside yours and try to beat your score, but the other machine was out of order and you decided to take a relay race approach. “What if we did, like, I don’t know… maybe a double feature for a couple bucks?”
“Neil, we show movies every night,” you sighed, “and we invite everybody, and ninety-nine percent of the time it’s just some combination of me, you, Jonathan, and Lucien.”
“Yeah, but this time we could do movies that more people like— a little easier to watch,” he suggested, “something that would get new people in the store.”
“New people don’t wanna sit on a musty old couch with strangers,” you reminded him, and he nodded as he chewed and swallowed his next bite.
“You’re right,” he agreed, holding the pretzel out towards you. “Wanna bite?”
You were trying to get through your skee balls pretty quick, so you just leaned your head over and chomped down on the end of one of the twists while he held it for you. You hummed in appreciation— it was pretty good, fresher than the last one you guys got here.
Visits to the arcade used to be your thing, back in high school (aside from watching movies, but that was a given). Then you slowed down with the trips, feeling a little old and out of place surrounded by kids— but the problem was, this place wasn’t filled with kids anymore. It hadn’t changed much at all since you were both in high school, and that was exactly the issue: it was old, run-down, a bit grimey… kids weren’t coming to arcades anymore anyways, they were all on the Internet apparently. So, while you and Neil sort of appreciated having the place to yourself, it also broke your heart knowing your old haunt couldn’t hold itself together forever… you two visited not just to recapture some old childhood joys, but to try to do your part to keep the business afloat.
You pretended to like being here— because you really did want to support the place, and Neil wanted to keep coming back— but it actually made you pretty fucking sad. Surrounded by all the neon, the noisy pinball machines, the Dig Dug machine that had a fifty-fifty chance of stealing your quarters, the photobooth (you still had some strips from that thing pinned to your wall, some so old that they’d faded from the sunlight that came in your window each day); it all felt sort of eerie now. You would’ve never known all those years ago how little this place would change, even though you never expected it to— you would’ve never known how little anything would change. Neil was still by your side, but still so far away… if you could talk to that fourteen-year-old girl now, you would warn her that no amount of time spent running around this place and playing Street Fighter was going to make Neil love her, or you.
But here you were anyways. “Woo!” you cheered when your final score came through: 50,765. “Beat that!”
Neil set the pretzel down on the bar-height table (on a pile of napkins, don’t worry, neither of you trusted those tables that much) and brushed the salt off his hands with a scoff. “Oh please, I can beat that with my eyes closed,” he assured as you crossed your arms.
As he put his quarters in and stepped up to the game, you smiled wide. “Alright, if you say so.”
You came up behind him and covered his eyes with your hands, making him jump and then laugh. “What are you doing?”
“Just keeping you honest,” you giggled, holding on tight even when he tried to move his head around so that he could see.
He did his best, usually struggling to even find where the balls were coming down more than rolling them decently— but after the first three went in the gutter without even scoring, you knew he didn’t stand a chance. He did score a few times, but when the buzzer went off and he lifted your hands from his eyes, he laughed at the pitiful 1,150 on the board.
“Ohh, that’s too bad,” you winced, “guess you’re just full of it.”
Still holding your hands away from his face, he spun around and twirled under your arms like you were dancing for a moment; it ended with him face-to-face with you, swinging your hands back and forth a bit to force you to twist with him slightly. “Wanna play Street Fighter next?” he suggested quickly. “I know I can beat you at that.”
The giddy joy of the moment dropped and shattered; if you thought about it too much, you probably could’ve cried right then. As pathetic, yet oddly aesthetically pleasing, as it would be to cry in an arcade, you swallowed down the emotion and smiled back at him. “Yeah, okay,” you agreed.
~
You’d been a little antsy all day— Neil seemed to notice, asking a couple times if you were okay, but you just nodded and shrugged it off. He had a sense for when you were lying; but that’s the thing, you weren’t lying, really. You just weren’t sure what to say. You weren’t sure if you should say anything. And yet, you felt a little guilty not telling him everything that was going on with you— not just guilty, but plain weird. Because you usually did tell him everything— except, you know, the thing— but you didn’t know if you should talk about this. Not that you couldn’t— but should you?
So you were sort of gnawing on your lip most of the day, keeping yourself busy with tallying late fees behind the desk, trying to keep conversation light and meaningless: thankfully, in that regard, Jonathan and Lucien made it pretty easy.
“Okay: fuck, marry, kill,” Jonathan began, “Dracula, the Mummy, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.”
“Dude, I can’t answer that,” Lucien refused.
“Okay, then Neil, what would you do?” Jonathan changed his target.
“Um, well,” Neil pondered, “I think I’d have to kill Dracula— spare the world from that evil, you know— and I guess I’d marry the Mummy—”
“Freud would like to have a word,” Lucien butted in.
“And I’d fuck the Creature from the Black Lagoon,” he concluded, “out of morbid curiosity.”
You snorted, but didn’t look up from your clipboard. “You come up with one that Lucien will do,” Jonathan challenged Neil.
“Alright, uhh, let’s see…” Neil stalled as he thought, looking up at the ceiling and stroking his chin dramatically. “Fuck, marry, kill: Sarah Carter, Ripley, and Trinity from Matrix.”
“Okay, see, that’s a real challenge,” Lucien affirmed. “If I marry Trinity, do I have to live in the post-apocalyptic wasteland or can she live here?”
“You’d have to live in the Matrix,” Jonathan announced, like it was obvious.
“Hm,” Lucien pondered, “do I know it’s a false reality? Does she know?”
“She knows, you don’t,” Neil decided.
“Is she gonna tell me? What if she has another guy on the side in the real world?”
“Okay, you’re overthinking this,” Jonathan groaned.
“And is this the Sarah Carter that’s already had John? ‘Cause if not, I can’t kill her, or the human revolution stands no chance— but if she has him, I can’t marry her, ‘cause I’m not ready to be a stepfather—”
“You’re useless,” Jonathan informed him flatly.
“Well, it’s easy then,” you offered, still tallying fees on the printed table. “You fuck Carter, marry Ripley and kill Trinity.”
“Yeah, I guess that works,” Lucien shrugged.
“If you’re so good at this game, you should play,” Jonathan decided. You looked up from your work for once, finding Lucien looking excited at the idea and Neil looking a little nervous but intrigued.
“I’ve got one for you,” Lucien decided, looking concerningly smug. “Fuck, marry, kill: the three of us.”
Jonathan let out a giddy ‘ooh’ and Neil raised his eyebrows. “Oh— I don’t know— that’s too weird,” you shook your head, “it’s different, you’re real—”
“Wait, wait,” Neil interrupted, “now I wanna know.”
You froze for a second, wondering if you should double down on not participating, or if you should tell him the first thing that popped in your head: am I allowed to do all three to you?
Instead, you set the clipboard down and crossed your legs, and the men seemed to straighten up as they prepared for your answer. “Alright,” you said, looking at them for a lingering moment before sighing. “I think I’d fuck Jonathan, and then kill myself.”
“Yes,” Jonathan hissed, shaking his fist triumphantly.
“Dude, really?” Lucien snapped at him. “That didn’t sound like a compliment to me.”
“Don’t care, I stopped listening after ‘fuck Jonathan’,” he replied. “Alright, Neil, you’re gonna have to make good on that ‘she’s not off-limits’ promise you made to me—”
But Neil wasn’t listening to Jonathan, he was still looking at you. “Wait— you wouldn’t marry me?” Neil interrupted, putting a hand on the desk and leaning in a bit closer— he looked half-amused and half-offended, and your heart skipped a beat.
“Um…” you started to wonder how to defend yourself from that. What did he expect you to say? Yes, I’d marry you, I’ve actually been planning our wedding since junior year.
“Hold on,” Lucien stopped you, “if she fucks you and marries you, that means I’m getting killed!”
“Yeah, so?” Jonathan smirked.
“What, you don’t think I’m marriage material?” Neil laughed… but he didn’t seem like he was really joking, per se. He didn’t seem serious either, of course, but you decided to take his question seriously since he’d dared to ask it twice.
“Well,” you mumbled, “no. I don’t.”
Then he seemed a bit more serious, adjusting his posture a bit. “Why not?”
“I mean… you’re my best friend,” you reminded him, “but… you’re not reliable.”
He nodded, pursing his lips together.
“You’re not ready for marriage,” you continued. “I mean, I think you’re just as sure of that as I am.”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“And honestly? You’re a great friend and all, but… if you were my husband, I don’t think I could really… you know, trust you…”
The silence seemed a little heavy— all the men were sort of frozen for a second, you wondered if you should wave your arm around to make sure time hadn’t stopped. But they did move, Neil first in fact, as he stopped leaning on the counter and nodded a little.
“I’m just surprised that you didn’t fuck Dracula,” Jonathan said to Neil in an attempt to cut the tension, “considering your massive man-crush on Bela Lugosi.”
“Hey, that reminds me, tonight’s movie is Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla,” Neil announced, apparently shaking off whatever odd energy he’d picked up just before, “you in?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan nodded, “should I bring drinks?”
“Uhh, yeah, why not?” Neil agreed.
“Is a six-pack enough?”
"Uh, maybe…” Neil considered, turning over his shoulder to look at you. “Kid, how many beers are you gonna want?”
You swallowed nervously. “Um, I… well, I’m not coming. I’ve got a date, actually.”
Of course it was just assumed that you would be there; you felt a little guilty admitting you wouldn’t, to the point that you almost considered just skipping said date and staying to avoid the awkwardness.
“Hey, great!” Jonathan said proudly, throwing his arms out wide.
“A date, huh?” Neil noticed, looking happily surprised. “Sorry, I— I didn’t know— you didn’t say anything—”
“No, it’s cool,” you shook your head, “it’s kind of a last minute thing… you know how they’re showing Rope at the Palace tonight? I met this, um, this guy the other day and we got to talking, and I asked him if he’d wanna come with me.”
“Rope, wow, that’s a great first date movie,” Neil nodded approvingly, “that sounds perfect.”
“Yeah— he hasn’t seen it, actually,” you admitted, smiling nervously, “so I guess how much he likes it will kinda be a good judge of if he’s worth going out again, right?”
Jonathan nodded approvingly, but Neil seemed skeptical. "Well, the showing isn't until nine— you can at least hang out until the movie starts, right?"
"I've gotta get home and get changed!" you explained
"You can't wear that to a date?" Julien wondered.
"No!" you scoffed, looking down at your ripped jeans and Dracula t-shirt. "Besides, I have this whole plan of what I'm gonna wear— remember when we did Bonnie and Clyde for Halloween?"
Neil was Bonnie and you were Clyde, in fact; he looked shockingly good in that blood-red lipstick, you tried to convince him to wear it again but he insisted it was a one-night-only situation.
"I figure if I wear my Clyde suit, I'll look kinda like James Stewart!"
"You're doing drag on a first date?" Lucien pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, lighten up, I'm just dressing up for the movie— I'll still, you know, try to look pretty," you assured. "What, I don't look good in a suit? 'Cause I got a lot of compliments on Halloween—"
"No, hey, go for it," Jonathan decided, "it's festive!"
"I think it's cool," Neil agreed. "Have fun, alright? And if he creeps you out or something, call the store number and I'll come get you."
"I'm not really worried about—"
"You know? Just call the store when you get home," Neil decided, "so I'll know you didn't get murdered."
"Dude, chill," you groaned. "We're going to the movies, not, I don't know… hiking off-trail in the middle of the night."
You never agreed to call, but you did him one better: you ended up coming back to the video store afterwards, a bit over two hours later. Of course, the guys were still on the couch— apparently the movie was over but they were watching anime (undoubtedly something Jonathan had brought as a palate cleanser after the movie).
They all looked over at you when you came in the front door and the little bell rang; they seemed excited to see you, and presumably to interrogate you about the date. You sighed, knowing you couldn't have expected anything else, but you'd come here hoping they'd let you watch something with them so you could stop thinking about the date.
“How’d it go, hot stuff?” Jonathan purred, and you rolled your eyes as Lucien wolf-whistled.
“Oh yeah, it was awesome, best first date ever— I’m at his place having sex with him right now,” you frowned as you tossed your purse down onto the couch, and Lucien chuckled while Neil looked a little defeated.
“Not that great, huh?” Neil noticed.
“Was he a creep?” Jonathan assumed.
“Did he think the movie was bad?” Lucien pressed.
“No, no, he was great,” you sighed, “he loved the movie. We talked about it for a bit afterwards and he seemed to really understand it.”
“Okay! That’s good, right?” Jonathan said optimistically.
“Yeah— so good that I asked him when we could do this again,” you recalled, “and he said that he didn’t wanna lead me on and he wasn’t interested in seeing me.”
“What?!” Jonathan yelped, while Neil winced a little.
“He said I was really cool and funny and easy to talk to,” you explained, “but that he didn’t feel any chemistry.”
“Chemistry?” Lucien repeated, confused.
“He means he’s not attracted to me,” you clarified.
“What?” Jonathan scoffed again. “Why not?”
“I don’t know!” you whined, but you did know. “I think I’m just, like, friend material. I’m just ‘one of the guys’, you know? Not somebody you actually wanna be with.”
“But isn’t that what every guy wants? To date somebody who’s just ‘one of the guys’?” Lucien noticed, and then paused when everyone gave him an inquisitive look. “That sounded way less gay in my head. You get what I mean, right?”
“As much as I would love to never let you live that down,” Jonathan smirked, “you’re not wrong— like, a chick who can hang. That’s the best.”
“Well, here I am! Hanging!” you snapped. “Where’s my harem of suitors just desperate to date one of the guys?!”
“I mean, you are wearing a suit…” Neil noticed, getting a little defensive when you groaned and dropped your head back. “No, no, you look cool! I mean, you look really great. I’m not sure what he wasn’t seeing.”
"Maybe he's got a girlfriend!" Jonathan suggested. "And he was gonna cheat but he chickened out."
"Maybe he's intimidated by strong women," Lucien added, sounding more like he was quoting a Cosmo than actually thinking that.
"Respectfully, guys aren't that complicated," you assured. "If he wanted me, he would. He doesn't. It's not that deep."
Neil looked away when you said that.
"Well, come take a seat on the losers couch," Jonathan offered, but Neil sitting next to him frowned.
"You think I'm a loser?" Neil protested.
"No, I was talking about that couch," Jonathan said as he pointed to the other one which Lucien was on.
"I'm not even offended," Lucien decided, patting the spot next to him. "I'd rather be a loser with you than a winner with anybody else."
You smiled and plopped down next to him, pulling your legs up on the old sofa and finding the best angle to see the TV from. "Okay, catch me up," you requested, bracing for the barrage of borderline nonsensical exposition about whatever obscure anime Jonathan was forcing on the group this time.
~
Since the store closed at eight on Tuesdays, you and Neil decided to go out for a late dinner after locking up— the nearest place you usually walked to was a little hole-in-the-wall dishing out Thai fusion, and even though there were open tables inside, you took your paper boxes outside to eat together on a bench.
You each sat up on it with your legs crossed, facing each other, while he poked at his fried rice with his fork and you stirred your noodles with the chopsticks.
“The Palace is still doing their Hitchcock screenings on Sundays,” you recalled, “I think the next one is Rear Window. We could make Lucien man the store and go see it together?”
“Yeah, let’s do it,” he smiled. “But we gotta sneak in the candy, that place is getting so overpriced…”
“Well, that’s a given,” you laughed. “When I went on my date there I had Sour Patch Kids in my bag, but I was kinda craving Reese’s by the time the movie started.
"That guy sounded like an ass, by the way," Neil announced with a frown.
"Oh, no, it's fine," you dismissed. "He was really nice, even when he blew me off, and I… I guess I wasn’t really expecting it to go anywhere, anyways.”
“Really?” Neil scoffed. “Then why’d you ask him out?”
Just in case. “I… I guess I’m trying to put myself out there more?”
“Huh? You’re trying to put out more?” Neil joked.
You rolled your eyes and unfolded your legs to kick him playfully. “You know what I mean,” you groaned.
“Yeah, yeah,” he admitted, “and I support it. It’s sort of insane that you’re still single.”
“Wow, thanks for the pep talk,” you rolled your eyes before shoving a thick swirl of spicy-sweet noodles in your mouth.
“No! I mean, like, I can’t believe you’re single,” he clarified, and you smiled somewhat awkwardly while chewing your mouthful. “You’re smart and fun and cool and pretty—”
Thanks to the food in your mouth, you didn’t have to worry about coming up with a way to respond to that, so you just shrugged.
“Seriously!” he insisted. “I mean, guys hit on you at the store— I wish somebody who actually deserved your attention would walk in that place.”
The guy I want is already there every day. Swallowing, you finally got a chance to talk to him again. “Thanks,” you sighed, “it’s fine, though. I mean, I’ve been single this long— I think I’ll survive.”
“Keep waiting for the right one, okay?” he encouraged, and your heart swelled.
“I will,” you promised, sounding more wistful than you meant to.
After a brief lull in the conversation, he cleared his throat and continued. “Hey, um, while we’re on the topic of Sunday, about the whole fuck-marry-kill thing—”
“I’m sorry,” you offered right away, “I shouldn’t have answered that. I wasn’t being serious, obviously.”
“No, I wanted to apologize,” he returned, “I shouldn’t have pressed you on your answer. It was funny. And it wasn’t like you could say you were gonna kill one of us.”
You snorted. “Yeah, that one was probably the worst of the three.”
“But I shouldn’t have asked you about what you would’ve done to me,” he shook his head, “I was making it weird. So, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you assured. “Did you really expect me to say I would marry you?”
“No,” he admitted, “I thought you’d say you’d fuck me, marry Lucien and kill Jonathan.”
“What?” you scoffed, though you were still smiling. “Why?”
“Well, Lucien would definitely make the best husband of the three of us,” he explained, “and Jonathan was the only one who wouldn’t have gotten butthurt about you saying you’d kill him. He probably would’ve just asked you to give him a nice send-off, y’know…”
You nodded in agreement, wondering if he was going to address the obviously missing third piece of all this… he sure was staring down into his empty fried rice container with intense focus…
“And, you know, as for me,” he began sort of thinly, “I, um… I guess I just figured, you know, you’re the most comfortable with me.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, “obviously, but maybe that would make it worse? Like, at least with Jonathan, I know that if we ever did hook up or something, it probably wouldn’t mess up our friendship. ‘Cause we’re friendly and all, but it’s not so serious. But with you…”
“Uh huh, well, that’s why it’s good it’s just a game,” Neil finished for you, chucking his trash in the nearest can. “Don’t have to worry about any of that stuff. Least of all you and I being married. Talk about a disaster.”
You choked on your throat. “Yeah. No kidding…”
“Well, anyways,” he sighed, standing up from the bench and stretching for a moment, “wanna come over and see if the game’s still on?”
“Oh, um, I’m just gonna go back to my place,” you decided, throwing away the last couple bites of your food on account of your suddenly-lost appetite. “Kinda thinking I should get my sleep schedule in order.”
“That’s good,” he nodded, “I respect that. Have a good night, then, kid.”
“Yeah, you too,” you breathed, waving as he turned and walked off into the night, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.
You looked down at your lap, taking a deep breath and shutting your eyes for a second. Did he have to be so sweet just to cut you down like that? Could he have even known how it would hurt you to say that?
It’s not even like he was wrong, but you were dying to ask him why he was so sure that you and him together would be so bad. What was wrong with you that he still couldn’t see you that way?
Not interested in this repetitive thought cycle anymore, and being very familiar with where it leads, you got up and started to walk down the street. You didn’t turn to go to your apartment, though; you kept going until you heard live music— scratchy, whiny guitars and throbbing bass drums— seeping out of the club. You just needed to be somewhere familiar that wasn’t the video store or home; and, this place conveniently also had liquor.
You slipped inside— hit by a wave of sound as you entered— and took a seat at the bar, half-listening to the band that was playing, pretending to be focused at all on what was going on in the outside world rather than just spiraling into your own thoughts inside your head.
“Hey,” Jonathan nodded at you from the other side of the bar, and you nodded back. He instantly started looking for Neil— of course he would— and you deflated a bit. “You here alone?” he noticed.
“Yeah,” you shrugged.
“Wow,” he smirked, “it’s like when Peter Pan’s shadow escaped.”
You should’ve probably been offended by that, but it wasn’t worth denying— and you were more interested in getting liquored up than justifying that you did, in fact, have a life outside of Neil.
And, actually, Peter Pan was a pretty good way to describe Neil, too. Fear of commitment, leader of freaks and outcasts, daydreamer… all he needed was some green tights. “What are you drinking tonight?” Jonathan finally asked.
“What pairs well with feeling completely unattractive and unlovable?” you sighed.
“Well, that would be my drink of choice: whiskey,” he smiled, setting a bottle down in front of you. “I’ll do a shot with you.”
He poured you both a shot, and you timed it to shoot it back together; he, obviously, took it better with you, and you cringed from the acidic flavor. "Jesus, people really drink this on purpose?" you grumbled.
"Yeah, give it a few minutes," he assured, "it's gonna numb all those stupid emotions."
"I don't have a few minutes," you sighed, "do you have anything more fast-acting?"
"Yeah— a second shot," he joked, but you nodded in agreement. "Okay, shit, you're not messing around tonight."
"Nope," you agreed, watching him pour just one shot this time. "You're not doing it with me?"
"I need to pace myself, I'm here 'til two," he explained.
He slid it to you and you contemplated it for a moment, before forcing yourself to get it down as quickly as possible to avoid the burn. You still grimaced, but recovered quickly.
"Is it working yet?" he wondered.
"I guess," you answered half-heartedly.
“Well, you could always gush to the bartender about all your problems?” he offered, but you just shrugged it off. “Come on, you wouldn’t be the first tonight. And since I know you, I might actually be able to help.”
“I don’t think you can help with this one,” you assured. “This problem has been going on longer than you’ve ever been around.”
“Oh?” he pressed. “Let me guess… boy troubles?”
“Isn’t it always?” you scoffed, irritated that he saw through you that quickly— apparently your reputation of being horrible with men preceded you.
“But this is just one boy,” he presumed. “One boy who… conspicuously isn’t here tonight…”
“Is it that obvious?” you wondered with a whine, dropping your head in your hand.
“Well, if you weren’t having any issues with him, you’d be with him,” Jonathan guessed— and it wasn’t bad logic.
“But, like, does everyone know?” you wondered. “Does everyone but him know that I’m in love with him? Oh god, Jonathan, you don’t think he knows, do you?”
“Wait— love?” he repeated, and you swallowed thickly as you realized the whiskey had already gotten you to say too much. “You… you’re…”
“Okay, so I guess not everyone knows,” you mumbled.
“No, yeah, I think you managed to keep that under wraps,” he assured with a nod, eyes getting wider. “Sheesh. No, I had no clue. Now it’s even weirder that you guys aren’t together.”
“Well, he doesn’t love me,” you explained flatly.
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, god no— I mean, he tells me he loves me,” you corrected, “but he doesn’t mean— we just say that, you know, like at the end of phone calls or when one of us is sad. It’s not, like… we never meant it that way.”
“Right, okay,” Jonathan nodded as he wiped a glass— the way bartenders do when they’re listening to people— but he didn’t seem to understand entirely. “So, you’re not his type?”
“I don’t think I know what his type is,” you scoffed. “I haven’t really noticed a pattern, have you?”
“You’d have to have a few more data points to really draw any connection between them,” Jonathan laughed.
“Yeah, fair,” you smiled, “he’s only had… I don’t know, maybe four girlfriends since I’ve known him? One in high school, for a month— then Eva, they weren’t even really serious, just dating for a while. And then, uh—”
“Tanisha,” he remembered.
“Right! I liked her,” you hummed.
“What happened to her again?” he wondered.
“Got back with her ex,” you recalled.
“Wow, that blows,” Jonathan sighed.
“She told me before she told him,” you admitted. “She wanted me to tell him for her, actually, but I… I couldn’t do that to him. But I came over right after, you know, and we ate ice cream from the tub and watched movies ‘til we fell asleep.”
Jonathan made a sort of face, one you couldn’t quite interpret, and you tilted your head as he seemed to mumble to himself.
“What?” you wondered.
“Nothing, it’s just… he’s kind of an idiot,” Jonathan decided. “I don’t think he gets how lucky he is.”
You wrinkled your brows together, laughing a bit. “What do you mean?”
“Look, I’m not saying he’s, like, legally obligated to fall in love with you just because you guys get along so well,” he clarified, “even if that’s what Neil accused me of thinking— I really do think it’s fine for men and women to just be friends.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m just saying… like, how do you have someone who cares about you that much, and you end up dating fucking Denise for almost a year?!”
“Well, nobody knows how he ended up with Denise,” you coughed. “That was a fucking disaster.”
“I mean, not to be crass, but, uh,” he stumbled a little over his words, “I’m surprised that you coming over after that breakup didn’t turn into a rebound, at least.”
“After eating that much ice cream?” you laughed. “That would’ve been awful.”
“But really, though,” he insisted. “I have a hard time believing the thought didn’t even cross his mind…”
“I can’t really be sure that it didn’t,” you admitted, “I’m just saying, nothing happened.”
“I guess he’s just known you too long to go for it with you,” Jonathan shrugged.
“It’s not just that— you know Neil, he’s kind of an adrenaline junkie,” you rolled your eyes, “or at least he thinks he is. He wants adventure, I guess— and he always talks about us doing spontaneous stuff but it never happens— and I’m just too familiar. Too comfortable.”
“Yeah, he does kinda have something against stability,” Jonathan agreed, “do you think it’s a divorced parents thing?”
“I don’t know, I stopped analyzing that a long time ago,” you groaned, “and I told myself I would stop trying to be what I thought he wanted, but I think I keep doing it.”
“Well, I know you know him better than anybody,” Jonathan countered, “but I know guys, and that guy… there’s no way he thinks of you as just a friend.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because he was fucking lying when he said it wouldn’t piss him off if we hooked up,” he insisted.
“You really won’t let that go, will you?” you grinned.
“Did you see his face? He couldn’t get the image out of his head!” Jonathan assured confidently. “And then that whole ‘fuck marry kill’ thing— he started getting nervous, I think.”
“Nervous about what?”
“That something could really happen with us!”
“You really think he would care?” you frowned.
“I swear to— to Ash Williams,” he decided, “that if I walked into that fucking video store, and told him that you and I did whiskey shots and you came back to my place and we did the horizontal tango, he would beat me to death with the register.”
“You swear on Ash Williams?” you repeated with a smirk, knowing that meant more than swearing on any deity would mean.
“Him and his chainsaw hand,” Jonathan assured, putting a hand over his heart to add to the bit, and you giggled.
“Well, I don’t think Neil can pick up the register,” you decided.
“In that case, you let me know the next time you wanna get back at him for something,” he offered with a wink, and you smiled at him sympathetically.
“I know you’re trying to be nice,” you sighed, “but you don’t have to do that.”
“Hey, come on,” he frowned, “I know you’ve got this I’m insecure I’m a weirdo nobody notices me thing, but you can’t actually think it would be some kind of charity work for me to sleep with you—”
“No, I don’t mean that,” you sighed, “I know I could get laid if I wanted to—”
“But you don’t wanna get laid,” he finished for you, “you wanna be loved.”
You sighed again, even harder. “Yeah,” you nodded.
“I know,” he agreed. “And you know I love you, but—”
“But not like that,” you took your turn finishing his sentence.
His only reply was raising the bottle of whiskey with a sideways smile, a silent offer to pour another shot— for both of you this time.
“Yes, please,” you hummed, watching him fill the miniature glasses with a sigh.
part 2
#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis smut#watching the detectives#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#you know... eventually#but you have to get to part two for that lol
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
★ MASTERLIST ★
Hey this is the masterlist with all the fics i've written so far (and will be updated every time i upload a new fic)
Cillian Murphy x Reader:
Put The Beatles On, Light The Candles, Go Back To Bed (fluff)
Three And A Half Months (smut)
Illicit Affairs (smut, dad's best friend!Cillian)
In Your Car, I'm A Star (smut)
Wind In My Hair, I Was There (angst + smut)
Lazy Sundays (smut)
A New Pair of Glasses (smut) (part one)
Red Eyes (smut) (part two)
Strawberry Syrup (smut)
Jonathan Crane x Reader:
Sitting Pretty (smut)
Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (fluff + angst + comfort)
Are You Afraid of The Dark? (smut)
Neil Lewis x Reader:
Pussy-Whipped (smut)
You're The Only One Who Makes Me Feel Alive (smut + angst)
Slut (smut)
Thomas Shelby x Reader:
Show Me How Much You Need Me (smut)
Ambrosia (smut)
Look What You Made Me Do (smut)
Emmett (A Quiet Place II) x Reader:
Scream For Me (smut)
Jackson Rippner x Reader
Your Dog (smut)
Oppenheimer x Reader
- Oppie is a sub? (smut)
don't see something you think should be there? send me requests and i'll write em <3
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x reader#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#cillian x fem!reader#cillian murphy fanfic#peaky blinders imagine#a quiet place II#a quiet place 2#emmett a quiet place#emmett#emmett x reader#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane smut#batman#batman begins#watching the detectives#neil lewis#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis smut#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy fanfiction#oppenheimer#oppenheimer smut
742 notes
·
View notes
Text
Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy
Paring: Neil Lewis x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: smut, you have a cowboy kink :3
“What do you think?” Neil says, strutting down the narrow hallway out of his office.
Looking up from the magazine you were mind-numbingly immersed in, mostly due to the weird jingling coming from where Neil was coming from, you were greeted with an oddly pleasant view. Neil, uncharacteristically, dressed up as a cowboy. Black cowboy hat, a pair of black loose fitting jeans to match, a light denim button up shirt tucked into his pants with a couple buttons undone at the top, a black bandana tied around his neck, and cowboy boots that edged on godawful. Somehow Neil’s outfit of the week wasn’t that bad, it was kind of attractive…
“Hello? Anyone in there,” Neil waves his hand infront of your face, you try to grab his wrist but he snatches his hand away before you can get a full grasp. “So?”
“I think it’s better than last Saturday’s Dracula costume, that’s for sure,” trying to sound as uninterested as you possibly can despite the fact that you were undeniably very into the cowboy thing.
“Oh, come on. I had you speechless for a good minute there,” Neil points out, before mimicking a one-man gun fight.
“It’s fine,” is all you give him.
Neil sighs dramatically and pouts. Walking over to the couch infront of the TV and flopping down onto it, his melodrama is almost good enough to make you pity him, but he’s pulled this trick one too many times for it to do the full damage he intended. Soon enough you're trying your best to flip through the magazine in your hands. Unlike last time, you can’t seem to find it as interesting as it was before you saw Neil. The cowboy outfit fit him a little too well. Amount of undone buttons showed off his collarbones so well, hat fit weirdly well ontop of his head, and his pants hugged his ass in a way that made you drool. Maybe your boss dressing up as a cowboy was a new awakening for you. God you really hope not.
“Welcome to Gumshoe!” Neil welcomes the customer, springing off the couch and fixing his hat, “We have a special deal on Westerns this week, if you want to look into that just let me or my lovely employee at the counter know.”
You smile at the customer, before your eyes start to drift over to Neil. How you were going to last a full day working here while he looked like that, you didn’t know. As he blabbed to the customer about whatever movie they could be looking for, you willed yourself to look anywhere else, to do anything else besides stare weirdly at your boss and give yourself a girl boner over his outfit. There’s always returns you can sort through and late calls you can make, is what you settle on.
Pulling out the box from under the counter you start to sort through the returns of the past couple of days absentmindedly. Despite trying your hardest not to stare at your boss and focus on your task, you can’t help it. As he stanters around the shop in those stupid black jeans, fixes the buttons on his shirt, even daring to pop another button open, you can feel the wetness in your pants increase by the minute. It’s embarrassing. You move over to the back corner to start storing the movies, hoping this new perspective with a noticeable lack of view of your employer will help calm you down, but it does nothing. Possibly making it worse, this lack of seeing the real Neil makes your imagination kick in. Oh, what he could do for you. Legs over his shoulders. Is he soft or rough? What would he say during it? Is it just the costume or has he always looked this good? There’s a tap on your shoulder and you whip your head around.
It’s Neil.
“Can you check out the customer? I’ll take this over, don’t worry.” A blush spreads over your cheeks, and you can only seem to nod offering a weak, guilty smile to him. Standing up on shaky legs you make your way over to the register trying to make as little contact with Neil as possible. Knowing that if you touch him you will moan.
Your face feels hot, likely flushed, so you check out the customer as fast as you can. Plan foiled by their lack of a loyalty card. Soon enough they are out the door and gone, but you could’ve sworn you input their address wrong.
“Is the A/C not working?” Neil had sneaked up on you, grasping your shoulder. You jump, causing him to let out a small laugh.
“Uh- Yeah, I think so? Why are you asking?”
You knew why he was asking, you were sweating profusely and were red in the face. Even leaving a sweaty hand mark on the register, and possibly the DVD the customer rented out. All fueled by the simple cowboy costume worn by the man behind you. Curse ‘Western week’ at Gumshoe Videos, and curse Neil and his need to dress up for every event the store held, no matter how miniscule.
“You’re just very sweaty and red. Is there any other reason? Possibly got the hots for anyone,” Neil teased, poking your shoulder.
To anyone other than you, it would’ve been quite obvious that he wasn’t referring to himself and was, instead, referring to the customer who just left. After all, most of your more noticeable nerves showed up after their arrival. But your nerves paired with just how close Neil was to you lead to the disastrous reply.
“No! Of course not! And it’s definitely not you either.” Followed by nervous choppy laughter.
“What?”
Neil was not laughing.
“I have to go stock shelves.”
Neil stands there for a couple seconds before following behind you, despite how you desperately try to lose him. The shop is small and cramped, losing anyone in here is close to impossible. Just getting down to work is the best option right now, you plop down beside a box full of DVDs and try to ignore your boss.
“Look. I’m not offended or thrown off by what you said, but are you serious?”
You look up at Neil, guilt and embarrassment coating your face.
“You are! What is it? My charms? My humour? My looks?”
You go back to stocking DVDs.
“Is it the cowboy outfit?”
You look back up in absolute horror. He’s grinning at this realisation, both amusement and disbelief smeared all over his cocky smile.
“Well how would you like to ride a real cowboy?” Neil asks, he’s putting on a horrible southern accent that’s somehow made the outfit so much more attractive.
You stand up and crash your lips together. The kiss catches Neil off guard, stumbling back a step or two before he’s reciprocating at the same force as you. Getting eager you pull at the hair on his nape. He moans into your mouth. God it’s better than you thought it would sound. God, do you want to ride this cowboy.
“Hey,” Neil breaks away, breathing heavily, “Can we, uh, can we take this back to my office?”
You nod, basically pushing Neil back to his own office. Both of you are giggling the whole way there. Normally being so giddy over something like this would make you sick, but you’re hot and have a growing tingling in your lower stomach urging you onwards. Once the door is closed to his office your lips are back on his, hand tangling into his hair. Stumbling forwards into him until you hit his desk. His hands find your hips and he groans. Lips now start to kiss your neck. Kisses sloppy and open mouthed, bordering on bites. You’re so high on excitement about this it’s making you dizzy. Never have you ever thought that you would be so excited to sleep with your boss. What a uniform can do to a man is criminal.
Neil’s hands slowly move from your hips to your breasts. Squeezing them lightly once before groping harshly. Looking down you make eye contact with him, his eyes are so round and soft, pupils blown out wide, basically pleading to let him take off your shirt.
“Go ahead,” You sigh out, he’s rubbing your nipples through your shirt.
Quickly his hands move down to the hem of your shirt, and it’s off you and on the floor. Neil starts to move his kisses down to your collar bones and breasts. Groaning the whole way down, acting like he’s never been with anyone as beautiful as you. Truthfully, it’s unlikely that he has.
His hands unclasp your bra, sliding it down your arms and exposing your boobs. Nipples hard from the cold and from the excitement of this whole ordeal. You place your hands on Neil’s jaw dragging him back up into a kiss. It’s sloppy, his spit is all over your top lip. If this was anyone else it would’ve disgusted you, but, again, something about the whole cowboy costume made it so much hotter.
“God, you’re so hot,” Neil pants into your mouth, tweaking at your nipples. You moan in response.
He’s leading you over to the couch in his office. Pushing you onto the couch, you watch him completely unbutton his slutty denim shirt before joining you. Lips crashing into yours in the same frenzy as before. Your hands come to the waistband of his pants. Desperately trying to undo his buckle. You get it undone, and as a reward Neil undoes his pants. You feel his bulge press into your hip as you continue. You stroke him through his underwear, causing him to whimper, breaking away from the kiss and squeezing his eyes shut.
“Don’t do that baby, I’ll cum, please,” Neil begs. You giggle in response, but are immediately cut off when he latches his lips around your nipple. Flicking his tongue over your nipple. Fuck. You cup his cheek.
“Neil, take off my fucking pants already,” You hiss out.
He detaches his lips from your nipple, focusing instead on sliding your jeans off of your hips. You desperately want to shy away from Neil’s gaze when he starts to feel the wet patch on your underwear that is growing by the second, but it’s hard when he’s sitting between your legs. He shoves your panties down your legs and onto the floor.
Neil looks into your eyes as he traces the line of your cunt, playing with your clit, then shoving a finger into your cunt. You immediately moan out at the intrusion, earning you a smile from Neil.
“You’re so wet, baby,” he teases.
He adds in a second finger and your eyebrows furrow. His fingers are thick. Stretching you out so nice. Finding a steady pace Neil pushes his finger in and out of your cunt, eagerly watching as your cunt easily takes in his fingers. You grip at his hair, pulling him back into a kiss. Moaning into his mouth as he fucks you with his finger, consistently brushing against your sensitive spot.
Neil removes his fingers from your cunt, wiping them off on the couch. He makes quick work of his boxer’s pulling them down and discarding them in the pile of clothes already on the floor. He lines his cock up with your cunt and slides into you, both of you groaning at the sensation. Neil stays still for a little bit, getting adjusted to how you feel.
“Fuck you’re so tight, and so warm, and wet. You’re so nice,” Neil babbles, placing his hands on your hips.
Slowly he starts rocking back and forth into you, letting out breathy moans the whole way through.
“You can speed up,” You tell Neil, holding onto his bicep for support.
His hips start to speed up, until the sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet sounds of your cunt echo throughout the room. Neil keeps babbling out praises, ‘so good baby’s and ‘you’re so hot’s breaking the previously mentioned sounds, along with moaning from the both of you. Neil was a surprisingly good fuck. His cock was angled perfectly into your cunt, allowing him to hit deep into your cunt each time in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back.
“Do you- fuck- do you want to ride this cowboy?” Neil asks through pants, you look up at him. A mix of amusement and horniness coats your brain.
“Yes.” Is all it takes for Neil to slip out of you and bring you on top of him, then line up his cock with your entrance once again and slip it in.
You bounce up and down on him, aided by both his hips bucking into yours and his hands on your hips.
“You’re so good at this, holy,” Neil says, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the bud, you yelp out.
You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten, gripping tightly on Neil’s shoulders for stability. The mix of Neil’s cock pumping in and out of you and his tongue playing with your nipples was driving you insane.
“Neil, I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum for me, all over my cock, baby.”
You reach one of your hands down from Neil’s shoulders to your clit. Rubbing your clit in quick small circles as Neil watches you with hungry eyes.
It all comes crashing into you at once as you chant ‘cumming’ as you slump into Neil’s shoulder. He follows quickly after you. Both of you stay still for a little bit, trying to recuperate from everything. Neil rubs small circles into your lower back before you slide off of his cock.
“Thank you,” you mumble, not being able to look at Neil after that.
“Here,” Neil says, handing you your underwear.
You both get dressed in silence, before both exiting Neil’s office.
“You can go home early today if you want,” Neil coughs out.
You end up going home early after all, walking back to your car on shaky legs and being left to think about the events of today at your apartment.
#fanfic#neil lewis#neil lewis smut#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis x you#watching the detectives#cillian murphy smut#cillian x fem!reader#cillian murphy#cillian fic#cillian murphy x reader#neil lewis x y/n
260 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
