#fuck i meant to put this in drafts for tomorrow

[ezlebe]

prompt: rule 63 tomgreg?

Greg watches Tommy bully around the designer, or owner, or whatever he is, with a dubious slant to her mouth. She had sort of awkwardly mumbled a question to Shiv about Kendall’s birthday – what should I wear? – not expecting a lot, maybe to be coldly told not to try too hard, after everything else she’s paid for in the appearances sense, recently, but… instead, Shiv had called Tommy, for sure just because she’s tall, who Greg hasn’t really been alone with a lot in any capacity.

She’s been around her, for sure – Tommy is around in general. She had sort of been from the beginning when Logan died, because she is some… quote unquote friend of Shiv’s, and had sort of been when Kendall accepted money for a bad bank thing, because she also works as some corporate mercenary for Stewy Hosseini, and is sometimes around at like galas and parties, but other than that…

Like. Mostly, the first impression hadn’t been… It was a bit divisive, one might say, if they were Greg.

Tommy had made a joke that had seemed like pretty badly off-color, involving kissing and kinky boots, something like that, which had made Greg feel seen through and about half a meter tall, but… by the third time they saw each other, she realized that Tommy had no idea what she had said to her and probably didn't to anyone a lot of the time. It didn't exactly excuse it, but how she wasn’t pointedly nasty, really, not in that way sort of did; she always wandered over whenever they were at the same place to try to get Greg involved in whatever her cousins had dragged them both into, or to just gossip with her, or now she’s started to jokingly, like probably, ask Greg if she’s tired of being the assistant to Kendall’s assistant yet.

Greg hasn’t ever asked about what Tommy might’ve really meant that first misunderstood conversation; she has somewhat put it down between Tommy just being generally cringy, most likely, or honestly hitting on her in the worst way, because it is kind of like what she wants to imagine, nowadays? Tommy is like a real life mythical Amazon – really pretty, and really big, and really touchy, so Greg is like really comfortable in making it not really her own fault and just like a natural progression. She can even point to Shiv as a fellow victim of the influence.

She mostly has been able to keep that packed in behind her imagination, before now; she hasn’t even seen Tommy in a while, not in the social sense, and not counting since Stewy brought her with Sandi Furness to sneer at the shareholder meeting and they’d barely been in the same room.

“Are you like, um…” Greg says, lifting her hand and sweeping a piece of loose hair from her braid back behind her ear. “Going with Shiv… to Kendall’s thing?”

“If I were, it would be in a purely platonic capacity,” Tommy says, yanking a shirt off of a rack with a narrow look and a shake out of non-existent wrinkles. “I don’t out people.”

Greg wets her lips with a bob of her head.

“But also actually very platonic,” Tommy says, voice flattening, reaching out and considering a dress, low cut and strappy, so hopefully not something she’s actually thinking to put on Greg. “I believe she is in some throuple situation with that… reincarnated spirit of a used car salesman, Sofrelli.”

Greg lifts a hand and lightly scratches at her upper lip with her thumb. “That’s sort of outing her.”

Tommy rolls her eyes over her shoulder, mouth flattening, “You don’t know who the third is.”

“Probably his wife,” Greg says, raising her brows with a slight tilt to her head. “Yeah?”

Tommy doesn’t answer beyond looking back down with a couple of low tuts.

Greg steps a little closer, as she takes off her jacket and folds it over her arm. She reaches out and touches at one of the shinier dresses, feeling it give cool against her fingers, and wonders if she could be a woman who wears silver silk, glimmering under club lights, or if… she should stick to a neutral. Or a pattern? She does enjoy a good pattern, but there aren’t any she can see in the selection.

“They look great, by the way,” Tommy says, voice thinning and pitching, while drawing out another dress and gesturing for the stylist to bring out the next rack with a wag of it. “In case anyone hasn’t said.”

Greg blinks wide, brow knitting above her eyes. “Um, what?”

“Your tits, to be a totally crass fuck,” Tommy says, turning and framing her own bosom with a pair of lifted palms, then pointing at Greg’s chest. “I assume two of the reasons you asked Shiv about designer dresses for this shindig, rather than your usual modest schoolteacher getup?”

“Oh… oh,” Greg intones, only barely managing to ignore an urge to look down, as heat flares across her cheeks; no, no one really has said so, and seem mostly to pretend nothing changed. She’s part of the problem, though – it’s been months, but she’s still not quite used to them being much more than just impression and a good bra. “Yeah, uh… Thanks. Roman was, um – was the only one who really like addressed it? He said I should’ve done more of a porn star thing.”

Tommy makes a pinched face, shaking her head with a suck at her teeth. “That is... actually really unsurprising.”

“I’m really happy with, like… what I chose, though,” Greg says, swallowing thickly and trying not to let herself feel too affirmed… by Tommy, of all people. It had just been something she had agonized back and forth on for as long as she can remember; if it was worth doing at all, or just stick with what she had, while imagining what would look right – what would look great.

She rubs her palms together, then shoves them under her arms, trying to instead distract herself with the dresses that Tommy’s got piling on the bench. It’s a lot more color than the prior racks – she kind of actually really likes the darker orange. And the green. She probably shouldn’t try both at once, or like she might just look like a… a pumpkin, or something.

“Less back problems, trust me,” Tommy says, belatedly around a cough. A hand lifts to cup against her chin, as she rounds a rack of markedly fancier dresses with a tilted head. “How short are you willing to go with your skirt?”

“Uh,” Greg says, dragging her teeth along her lower lip with another glance down at herself. “I don’t usually go very – ”

“Like an Old Believer, I know,” Tommy says, eyes rolling, as she looks up with a quirk of a brow. “I’ve seen. It’s very cute, very flowy, but are you attached to that?”

“Kind of?” Greg says, rubbing at the back of her neck with a slight hunch.

“Oh, fine,” Tommy says, throwing her hands up, then out, sweeping her palms away from each other. “And up top, then – low cut, allowed, but is the public permitted to see your shoulders?”

“I guess… if it’s lacy, or something,” Greg says, drawing her hand back to rub now at one of her button-up-covered shoulders. “Maybe?”

Tommy claps her hands onto her hips. “Stu!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stu says, stepping forward from just near the door.

“How long would it take to tailor a six and a half foot wedding dress for Miss Hirsch?”

Greg makes a noise of protest. “A wedding – ?”

Tommy rounds on Greg with those open arms. “That is what you just described!”

“Is it – um?” Greg says, rolling her lips together, then tilting her head with a weak shrug. “Not if it’s a color? I like that orange.”

“Oh, she likes that orange,” Tommy repeats in a taunt, reaching out and picking the dress up with a tut. She looks at Greg, then down at the dress, shaking it out to hold up to her front; she seems to notice it is lacking other qualifications, but her brow furrows in thought. “It does suit you…” She looks toward Stu, shooing him, “Get us everything close to this color.”

~

Greg lingers at the entrance of the venue, checking her phone, and looks up at familiar voices to see Shiv and Roman, then more importantly Tommy, who’s peering dubiously up at the pink tunnel that touches her head. She’s in the navy mermaid dress that Greg had seen her put aside a week ago, but hadn’t given any hint how it would make her look so comely, and her short hair neatly swept close to the side of her head with an elaborate pin. Greg is vaguely aware of some comment from Roman to the nurse-hostess, but barely hears it, instead focusing on the way Tommy immediately marches toward her when they make eye contact.

“Holy moly, look at those eyes,” Tommy greets, peering up at Greg over one of the hospital bassinets, then rounding it with her hands drifting up in a way that is probably not supposed to be sort of threatening. “Who did your makeup?”

Greg feels heat crawl up to her ears. “I-I did?”

“You did?” Tommy says, eyes glancing twice more across Greg’s face with a different sort of assessment. She reaches out further, clapping her hands on Greg’s biceps. “You look like an autumn princess – take my arm, tonight I am your winter knight.”

“You look really nice, too,” Greg says, hesitantly grabbing at Tommy’s elbow, slipping her fingers around the offered crook; her arms are bare, skin soft and warm.

“Thank you, girlie, I couldn’t let you show me up,” Tommy says, as she gestures down at her dress with a sweep of her other hand and a sidelong wink. “I like that it looks like a stripper version of a power suit – I mean, look at my girls, they look perky as they did in college! You would almost think I’ve got a rack better than Shiv’s.”

Greg slowly furrows her brow, taking advantage of the permission to look down and admire. “You like do?”

Tommy looks shocked for a beat, making Greg hurriedly look away, but then bursts into a huffy snort. “Thank you for that ego boost, but methinks you don’t notice because she’s your cousin.”

Greg offers a shrug, but she doubts it.

Tommy leans into Greg’s arm, fingers sweeping up against her curved knuckles, as they walk deeper into the party. “I didn’t know you knew how to do more makeup than that faux au naturale you always have on.”

“I, uh – I used to practice a lot,” Greg admits, hearing her voice briefly weaken, looking down at the shiny floor passing under their feet. “Like, when I was younger. It was easy to take off, you know, an-and my mom never noticed.”

“Ah, and now you’re an expert,” Tom says, patting at her fingers, leaning briefly even heavier into her side with a pitchy bark. “I’m terrible with it; I always go to a professional for these things.”

Greg glances over, sweeping her eyes from Tom’s vague smoky eye to barely-lined lips. “You do?”

“I used to,” Tommy says, brightly, winking with a taunting sort of smile. “Now I know I can make you do – ” She comes to an abrupt stop, gawking through an open doorway on the other side of Greg. “Oh, Jesus… Is that a fucking crib?”

Greg looks over her shoulder in the same direction. The room is… set up like a nursery, but if it had inside a crib that was… bigger than adult size, even bigger than like Greg-adult size, with a bottle and stuffed animals to match. “Uh, um… y-yeah?”

“You’re related to this man,” Tommy says, flattening her voice into a stern, quiet seriousness, as if this is now an interview for like maybe Dateline. “How does that make you feel, Ms Hirsch?”

“Like, um…” Greg takes a breath. “He isn’t over the death of his father?”

Tommy is silent a beat, then sucks at her teeth. “That is way too far down the rabbit hole for me. You were supposed to say he’s too bizarre to function.”

“He’s always been nice to me.”

Tommy scoffs against the back of her throat. “I’m not sure that’s a good metric.”

Greg offers a thin hum, looking over to Tommy, who is arguably in the same category of a bit weird, for sure, but generally good. “It’s been okay, so far?”

“Oh, come on,” Tommy says, rolling her eyes, but somewhat abashed about it, so likely catching onto the implication. “Let’s try to find the exit to this Freudian nightmare and find a drink… that I hope isn’t dressed up in fucking juice boxes and milk cartons.”

Greg wonders if Tommy missed the swaddled champagne bottles at the entrance.

It takes far too long for Greg, between mocking Kendall’s choices and picking up party favors, to realize that Tommy is sort of acting like this is a date; she thinks, anyway, she hasn’t been on a date in a really long time, but it feels like it. She swallows her nerves and risks a grab for Tommy’s hand, at her next chance, as they turn a bend within the aptly named compliment tunnel. The whole setup visibly puts Tommy on edge, looking at every cheerful deliverer of a compliment through the decorated trestles with sneering suspicion, but Greg sort of likes getting told that she’s great – even if it’s just a weird party game.

Tommy doesn’t shake her hand off, though, which is even better. She actually tightens her grip, shifting her fingers to thread them through Greg’s clammy ones, as they slowly approach a roar and thump of music at the center of the party. She does let her go, as they pick up drinks at a bar along the length of the wall, head bobbing to the beat of the music, but she heavily leans into Greg’s side.

“Do you dance, Greg?” Tommy asks, her drink half gone, looking over with a slight cock of her chin.

Greg feels her expression twist and fold, glancing away from the bar toward the dance floor. “Not, like… really?”

“Too bad!” Tommy crows, as she puts her drink down, then reaches out with the same hand to wrap tight around Greg’s wrist in a tug. “Just think: you can’t embarrass yourself more tonight than the birthday boy.”

Greg bites at her lip and manages a weak shrug, as she’s yanked along into the shifting throng of other guests. She thinks she sees Shiv going a little nuts, a few meters off, but is promptly distracted from that when Tommy grabs at her waist and drags her into a sort of dance that… kind of lacks any rhythm. It definitely seems like Tommy doesn’t really dance, either, though it looks really good on her, but really, by this point in the night, Greg can admit that she might be biased.

The song shifts from on the stage to one at a slower pace, making Greg’s ears burn, as Tommy looks up at her with a slow blink and a smirk. It’s definitely a, like – yeah, she has stumbled into a date.

Tommy shifts forward, groping along Greg’s lower back, then sliding her hands up, and she’s nearly as tall as her with tonight’s choice of heels.

Greg does her best to answer the broadcasted kiss in earnest, worrying a little that it’s too dry, nose bumping in the wrong places, but Tommy doesn’t seem to realize it. She’s actually just grabbing at Greg more, tugging her in so she’s pressed all the way up along her body while they move with the music.

“I’m really glad Shiv called me,” Tommy says, grinning up into Greg’s face, fingers sweeping over her ears and down into her hair. “You look so hot on this dress I chose, you really do, but I’m fucking ecstatic I could get to take it off.”

Greg chokes a little on an agreeable hum, nodding with a hard drop of her head.

Tommy leans in for another kiss, a hand still wrapped at Greg’s jaw while the other roves down her body, then around to grip at her ass. The music drops into a heavier beat, surrounding them with heady, throbbing bass, and she grinds against Greg, thighs strong and thick, foot slotting against Greg’s instep, using a moment of shock to slip her tongue into her mouth.

It a little difficult for Greg to keep up with, mostly because she is so unfamiliar with this sort of club-esque writhing to the music. She lets a bit loose to grope her hands against Tommy’s ribs, holding her close and copping her own feel with a curve of a palm around a rounded breast and brushing a thumb down exposed cleavage. She flushes worse when Tommy moans approval against her lips, head tilting and tongue sweeping along the inside of Greg’s lip. It’s lewd and insinuating, making Greg burn with a startling want, arousal bolting to her groin, and she can’t help her own moan, loud enough, it seems, to earn an evident laugh against her lips.

The song jerks abruptly to a stop, and Greg is near panting, one hand having found it’s way to curl into Tommy’s palm and feel the soft thud of her pulse. She thinks Tommy looks breathless, too, but not in anyway that seems as embarrassing, but actually more attractive; her brow sweaty and her hair threatening to loosen over an ear.

A mumble comes from the stage that Greg only half hears, followed by a click and whine of speakers. The voice that replaces it is nothing like the previous performer, instead it is low, masculine, and horribly familiar.

“Oh my god,” Tommy says, voice pitching, turning tragically away from Greg to stare up at the stage.

Greg watches as Kendall begins to move up and down, attached to some apparatus, and between this and kissing Tommy, she’s no longer sure she’s awake. “Where… where do I know this song?”

“It’s Billy Joel,” Tommy says, lifting a hand to cover her mouth, theatrically aghast, wobbling backward on her heels into Greg’s arms. “He’s singing Billy Joel to himself for his birthday.”

“He, um – ” Greg manages, watching Kendall’s performance on stage; his voice isn’t bad, but the whole thing… is definitely still the CEO of Waystar Royco suffering some weird breakdown about having no closure with his dead dad. “He is sort of too bizarre to function…”

“Thank you, girlie,” Tommy says, glancing over with a quick bark of laughter, though the humor fades again into disbelief when she looks back at Kendall on stage. “I feel like I’m some lobster stuck in a pot while the cook croons above me.”

Greg huffs and shifts her palm to fully fold her fingers in Tommy’s against her hip. She hasn’t managed to say it, but she’s really glad she asked Shiv about dresses, too.

[lovelytsunoda]

dancing in the dark | mick schumacher

summary: after her team gets totally ripped apart in court, yn returns home and changes into some comfy clothes, content to lounge on the couch for the rest of the evening. however, that flannel shirt drives mick crazy, and he has other plans

pairing: mick schumacher x law clerk!girlfriend! reader

warnings: 18+ content, cutesy smut, (seriously this smut should feel horny and like a warm hug at the same time), mick says some funny things. the lawyer referenced is mickey haller from 'the lincoln lawyer' because i fucking said so. (i literally just realized what i've done giving her boss and her lover the same name lmao i dont know any other tv lawyers so this stands and im making it part of the plot) it’s actually shorter and a lil less graphic than originally intended dont shot the messenger

court was rarely ever pretty, but usually yn could leave a courtroom feeling like she did the best she could.

not today. she was shaky as she left the courtroom, even after mickey haller, the lawyer that she worked for, assured her that she'd done nothing wrong.

"that was my mistake, not yours." he had insisted. "everything you put in that document i told you to. lorna and i checked it three times before i filed it."

of course, that did nothing to make her feel better as she drove back home, taking the rest of the afternoon off. mickey had insisted, which usually meant he had something to work on that he didn't want any help on.

when she pulled into her driveway, she dragged herself out of the small car, and into her empty house. mick was still out, presumably with the dog. he had training this morning, and then a meeting in the afternoon, so he had likely taken angie to his mothers.

still feeling off, she stripped out of her court clothes, donning her fuzzy socks and a plaid flannel top. she let her hair down from its tight bun, gently massaging her scalp before heading to the kitchen to make a mug of hot chocolate.

the file was still in her bag, along with a red-marked copy of the form that had been misfiled. the entire trial had to be postponed, so the haller camp was likely the most hated set of people in that courtroom.

she turned the kitchen radio on, a habit she had picked up from her grandparents. her grandfather loved seventies music, so there was always some don mclean or dolly parton playing in his house when she grew up. she herself preferred the eighties: inxs, springsteen, blondie, benatar.

she heard the front door open, followed by the sound of mick's duffel bag hitting the floor. she listened to his footsteps, and it was soon enough that she felt his arms wrapping around her waist.

"i thought you were in court today?" he mumbled, kissing her shoulder softly. she could smell his cologne, a musky and earthy scent. something inexpensive, for he saved the dior for special occasions.

"we got absolutely destroyed this morning over a misfield document with the courts, so mickey sent us all home to regroup."

truth be told, it was days like this one that had yn questioning why she'd even started this job in the first place. lately she'd had more bad days than good ones, but lorna had assured her that it would pass.

"you know what the great thing about being alive is?" mick said softly, taking her by the hand and gently spinning her to face him. "you can always try again tomorrow. nine times out of ten, there is always a second chance."

"i know you're right. i just feel guilty since i was the one who drafted the document." it didn't matter that mickey checked it and lorna filed it. she was the one who drafted it, so the error was hers.

"your lawyer checked it over, right? and he didn't see anything wrong with it?"

"yeah but-"

'no buts. i refuse to see my brilliant girlfriend be down on herself for something that isn't her fault."

she was about to protest again when mick swayed their bodies into a dance, slightly out of tune with the springsteen song that was playing from the corner. 'dancing in the dark'. it was their song. she smiled despite herself, laughing along and joining in with the dance. mick twirled her around the kitchen twice before hooking his hands under her thighs and lifting her into the air. she laughed in surprise, gripping his shoulder as he carried her over to the couch.

she giggled as he dropped her onto the couch, climbing over her and planting himself between her thighs. mick leaned in to kiss her, his lips soft against hers. she smiled into the kiss, exhaling softly as she unconsciously bucked against his crotch.

“you know this shirt drives me crazy, right?”

“this one?” she pursed her lips. “it’s almost a decade old. it’s the oldest shirt in my closet.”

mick grinned, strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes as he nuzzled his cold nose into the skin between her boobs. “you’re like a sexy lumberjack.”

she laughed as mick kissed over the flannel on her shirt, slowly making his way down to her exposed hip where the shirt had ridden up when he placed her on the couch. "what does that even mean?"

he pressed his nose against hers, her slender legs wrapping around his toned body. "hey, pretty girl. what can i do? how can i make you feel better?"

"mhm, i think i have an idea." she smiled shyly, running a finger down his chest.

"does it involve you screaming my name in pleasure?"

"why yes, i think it does."

laughing, mick kissed her again, gently nipping at her lip before he pulled her into his arms, her legs securely wrapped around his torso. he carried her to their shared bedroom, placing her at the edge of the bed before sinking to his knees on the plush carpet.

he pulled his white t-shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere across the room as he lifted her legs over his shoulders, gently kissing up and down the expanse of her leg.

the sight of mick between her legs never failed to give her butterflies. he never hesitated to get on his knees for her, no matter how sore they may be in the morning. she never even had to ask. mick always seemed to know just what she needed.

her chest was filled with love as mick kissed, licked and sucked his way across her inner thigh. he was her sweet boy, her love. mick thought that she was an angel on earth, and had even made the cheesy 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven' joke the first night that they spent together.

he tongued at her wet core through the black cotton of her panties, eliciting a gentle gasp from the woman above him.

"you liked that, sweet girl? did that feel good?"

"yeah." she breathed, shifting on the bed, arousal jolting through her body. "i want you, mickie."

"it's so weird that you call me that when the guy you work for is also named mickey."

"it's spelt different."

"same difference." he laughed, pinching her thigh gently.

"i guarantee you that i'm not thinking about my boss right now, mick."

mick laughed, his warm hands traversing her thighs, up to her ass, and pulling her closer to his face. "raise your hips, honey pie. let's get those pesky panties off of you."

across from her, a large round mirror sat on top of the white ikea dresser, and she couldn't decide what was more erotic: the reflection of her blushing, panting face and the back of mick's head between her thighs, or looking down and seeing the look of lust and adoration in mick's eyes as he slid her calvins down her legs.

making eye contact with her lover, she teasingly began to undo the buttons on her flannel, letting the fabric fall away and expose her naked curved body to the man on his knees in front of her.

“you fucking undo me, baby.” mick said, voice husky as he visibly held back a moan. “so pretty just for me. I don’t deserve it.”

he gently ran a hand up and down her thigh as she used her legs to draw him closer to her core, the heat radiating off her skin and warming his.

he kissed her core gently, smiling at the soft sigh he drew from his lover before he began to lick at her slit, juices running down his tongue and around his lips.

“holy fuck.” she exhaled, throwing her head back.

if she looked in the mirror, she’d be able to see micks shoulder blades rippling under his skin every time he pushed himself closer to where she needed him most.

“yeah, you needed this, didn’t you? needed me to help you feel better? that’s what I’m here for baby, you don’t even gotta ask.”

there was reverence contained in every lick, every nuzzle. every time his nose bumped her clit. every gasp and moan she let out spurred him on, encouraging him further as he continued to make out with her pussy.

“fucking hell, mick. that feels so good.” she moaned, rutting against his lips. “oh, god!”

“atta girl.” mick encouraged, snaking his arms around her waist. “just use me to feel good, baby.”

she was flush against his face now, practically grinding herself against his tongue. she chanced a look down, moaning at the look of sheer lust in micks eyes as he met hers, his long pink tongue licking at her opening, face practically covered in her juices.

“mick, oh my god!” she squealed, thighs closing in around his face, fingers twisted up in the duvet as she tried to stay upright.

she came with a scream, arms threatening to give out beneath her as mick continued to work her to the edge, never giving up his relentless pace

“that’s my girl. come on, give it to me. I know you can, pretty girl. I know you can do it.”

she slumped backwards, allowing the duvet to pillow around her as she felt her legs go week. her hands moved to ruffle micks hair, a lazy smile on her face. he continued to kiss her thighs as she lay there to recover, listening for every breath, every soft sigh.

“how’re you feeling?” his voice was soft as he crept up the bed, gently hovering over her body. he laced one hand with hers, his nose running along her cheek.

“absolutely fantastic. you always know how to make me feel good.”

when he kissed her, she could taste traces of herself on his lips. in the beginning, she’d felt so awkward about tasting it. now? now it just served as another reminder of how much mick loved her. a reminder that he enjoyed pleasuring her.

“can you taste how sweet you are?” he hummed, kissing her softly again. “just like heaven, princess.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah, pretty girl. I’m pretty sure heaven is right between those thighs of yours.” there was a sparkle in his blue eyes, and a cheeky grin on his lips. “you know, you’re more than just pretty. you’re fucking smart too. I wish I could be half as smart as you are. do you think that if I slipped my cock into you right now, I could absorb some of that knowledge like through osmosis or whatever?”

she grinned stupidly at the sheer absurdity of the question. once you got him in the bedroom, mick schumacher had no filter whatsoever.

“wanna try it and find out?”

mick drew back, undoing the top button on his levis while she sat up just enough to toss her flannel aside and move up the bed. she slipped a small throw pillow underneath her hips when the lay back down, sweaty hair brushed behind her ears. mick clambered up the bed to join her, large hands reaching to the knob on the bedside drawer for a condom.

he slid inside her with ease, buried to the hilt as he kissed her forehead gently. she squirmed underneath him, gently rutting her hips into his.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

his thrusts were gentle, yet still deep as he drew one of her legs up and around his waist, her arms coming to link around his neck as she pulled him close. he was a gentle lover, a passionate one. he believed in taking his time to make his partner feel good.

“my god, babe, you feel so fucking good. so good for me.” he groaned down her ear, teeth nipping at her earlobe. “taking my cock so well.”

hands on his shoulders, she could feel his muscles rippling and undulating under her dainty hands, french nails leaving small scratches along his tanned skin.

“oh, just like that.”

the pace was slow and comforting, sensual and erotic as mick somehow managed to make every thrust feel like his cock was going deeper, deeper, deeper.

“eyes on me, honey pie. I wanna see that pretty face of yours.” mick encouraged, seeing her eyes screwed shut in pleasure, cheek resting against the pillow. “where’s my sexy model girlfriend?”

a smile crossed her features, a moan escaping her throat as mick brushed against her spongy walls. she turned her head slightly, staring right up at his goofy smile and sweaty face.

he leaned down to kiss her, moaning into her mouth before slipping his tongue in and touching it against hers.

his hands travelled up and down her body, over all of her curves. over her breasts and rolling her nipples between his fingers.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispered, kissing her softly. “I love you.”

“mick,” she moaned softly. “faster.”

he smirked, snapping his hips quickly against hers. “how’s this, baby? you close?”

“yeah.” she whined. “think so.”

she curled her legs tighter around him, trying to pull mick closer and closer to her, trying to take him deeper and deeper. his breath was heavy on her neck as he left open mouthed kisses in his wake. one of his hands came down and over her waist, thumb rubbing gently at her sensitive clit. she moaned out a small curse, nails digging into his back.

“please.” she panted “don’t stop.”

his free hand desperately clenched around the sage green duvet, his grip white-knuckled. her walls contracted around his cock, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. he swore in german, his hips faltering as he tried to keep his composure.

“give it to me baby, come on, I know you can. keep taking my cock. fucking shit, baby, I’m not gonna last.”

“mick!” she screamed, back arching, skin pressing against his, walls contracting around his thick dick.

her nails were digging into his back, her face flushed and facing away from him as she came. at this angle, he was happy to lean over and press gentle kisses to her face, softly whispering praise and encouragement as he continued to work himself to the edge.

his hips stuttered, cock twitching as he spilled into the condom, body shaking as he lowered himself to rest beside his lover. he had yet to pull out, their legs still locked together. her skin was warm as he pulled her into his arms, swollen lips leaving kisses against her sweaty hair and her fingertips drew shapes against the bare skin of his chest.

out in the kitchen, he could faintly hear the radio. it had long since changed from springsteen, now playing the dulcet tones of paul hewson and u2.

he knew he should get up. he at least needed to take the condom off. maybe pull a blanket over their bodies.

but having her in his arms was a type of heaven within itself. her scent overwhelming his senses, her touch comforting over his flushed skin.

he needed her beside him like he needed oxygen to breathe.

“mick,” she mumbled, head still resting against his chest. “I need to go to the bathroom, and you’ve still got most of your lower body weight on me.”

he grinned sheepishly as he disentangled himself from her, watching from the bed as she strode to the closet, pulling a silken robe around her lithe frame.

he was so in love. he hoped this would be his forever.

[sc0tters]

A Night To Remember | Sidney Crosby

summary: you and Sidney have been at odds since you met, but when he shows up at your apartment wanting to talk things take an unexpected turn.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v (unprotected), fingering, oral (fem receiving), choking, slight captain kink, swearing, legal age gap (reader is 23!)

word count: 4.67k

authors note: I have never written for Sidney but I’ve also never had a smut be this long. I loved this one though, ending wasn’t really planned out, but if you want a part two let me know!

next part | final part

This was a game that the nation was captured by.

You were looking forward to it as it meant you got to catch up with your brother. Connor’s ride since he got drafted had been one of a kind, but you were always there to make sure that your little brother didn’t let his ego get too full. The five years between you felt like nothing as he was your right hand man.

Which is why he knew all about your dislike for your teams captain, you joined the Penguins straight after you graduated. Finding your dream internship with their physio team, a year on and you were hired in a full time role.

For the most part the players liked you, believing that you were the breath of life that the aging physio team so desperately needed. You helped the rookies settle as you took on the big sister role and everyone appreciated, well everyone except Sidney.

From the moment you joined the team it seemed that he had it out for you, refusing to get treated by someone so young. Not letting you get a word in during conversations that you were originally in until he inserted himself into it, don’t even forget about the fact that he ever addressed you and when he did it was always kid. The title pissed you off beyond belief, it wasn’t the word itself but it was the fact that it came from his mouth.

As much as everyone tried to help you two get along by doing anything from sitting you two next to each other at dinners or on the plane, it always ended up in arguments. You being too loud, him being close to a punch in the face, ultimately it got to the point where it was too awkward for the team and everyone just accepted the fact that you two were not destined to be friends.

Sure it created a rift in the team but they managed to keep you two separated.

This game was your turn to sit on the bench to be there for immediate attention but that meant you were next to an irritated Sidney as he came off after letting Connor get past him to score a goal. If you weren’t working with the Penguins you would have openly admitted that Connor was wiping the floor with Sidney, but as you were sat next to the team captain all you could do was send him a sympathetic smile as this clearly wasn’t an ego boost to get sent to the bench after letting the rookie score.

Constantly you had to remind yourself not to cheer whenever Connor did something good, you were always going to play the proud sister role but that didn’t stop the glares that Sidney sent in your direction as he had picked up that there was a relationship between and the Blackhawks boy.

Practically the moment after the post game talks you were out of the locker room waiting for Connor “does she realise that we lost?” Sidney spat looking at Lars as your grin increased ten fold seeing your brother make his way over to you wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

Lars wanted to laugh at the irritated look on his teammates face “she just missed him,” he swore that the older boy knew your relation to the younger boy. Half of the boys had been teasing you about the long awaited match up ever since the draft, but apparently Sidney remained oblivious to it all “he still giving you shit?” Connor asked feeling the rival captains eyes on you two.

You rolled your eyes as you sent Sidney a glare “he keeps on acting like a fucking child.” You nodded as you complained not wanting to see the older boy during recovery tomorrow as he had been put on your roster.

Sidney stared at you not letting his eyes leave you, even when people spoke to him “I am at the end of my ropes with him.” You added shaking your head as you were growing tired of the way he treated you.

Sure you acted like you didn’t care, but the only thought that went through your brain as you lay in bed was what did you do to make him hate you. Ultimately the only reason why you sent him back everything he handed to, was because you had too much pride to admit that someone might genuinely just not like you.

Connor placed his hand on your shoulder “just continue playing nice until he realises that he needs to grow up.” His blunt words made you smile as you ruffled your hand in his hair.

Talking to your brother was making you feel better about it all “for now I just want to kill him.” You confessed as you had been arguing more with Sidney more recently as you had before “kid boss wants you.” He called out causing you to roll your eyes as you frowned.

You gave Connor another hug “I’ll see you around,” you sighed as you didn’t want to piss Sidney off further “don’t let him get to you.” Connor gave you a smile before you walked off with the team captain hot on your tail.

When you eventually found yourself stood in front of coach Sullivan all he did was smile “what can I do for you y/n?” He asked causing you to raise your eyebrows in surprise.

In all honesty you should have seen this one coming from Sidney “just came to talk to Sid.” You scrunched your nose in annoyance as you grabbed the captains hand bringing him into the empty physio’s office since this wasn’t the conversation you wanted to have in the open. This way you could call him every name you wanted to

Sidney looked at you with a smirk as you crossed your arms “what the hell are you playing at Crosby?” You scoffed pointing your finger into his chest.

It made the boy let out a dry chuckle “you were all cozy with that rookie and I’m the bad guy?” His question made you stop as your eyes went wide letting your hands drop to your sides.

Now it was your turn to laugh “god Sid I’m not like you,” you shook your head “I don’t need to sleep with everything that moves to feel content with myself.” The statement had taken him aback as you brought up his well known bachelor lifestyle where he had new girls in his bed every week.

Sidney managed to keep his calm demeanour as he leaned against the wall “you jealous?” He joked causing you to want to slap him “you should go fuck yourself Crosby.” You spat feeling your skin seething with anger.

The boy remained silent smirking as you showed him how much he irritated you “or better yet go fuck some little puck bunny cause that’s all you’re gonna get.” Your hand poked at his chest finally deciding that it was time to call it an evening “have a nice night dickhead.” Left your lips in a mumble before you pushed past him leaving the older boy just as irritated as he was before the conversation with you.

From the moment you got home you were trying to do anything you could to relax, the bubble bath, the glass of red wine with a shitty romcom, all of it. So what you didn’t expect was that in the middle of rewatching Bridget Jones’ Diary that there was going to be a knock at the door “this better be good.” You mumbled to yourself as you got up letting your feet slip back into your duck slippers as the cold wood floor seemed too much for your feet to handle.

You continued to mumble things to yourself as you chugged back the rest of your wine before you placed the glass on the table letting your hands grow bare when you opened the door “puck bunnies finally realise that there are better players around?” you asked trying to shut the door in his face.

Unfortunately for you Sidney’s athletic abilities were too quick for you as he moved his hand between the door and the frame “got a few girls waiting for me downstairs.” He lied teasing you as he let himself into your apartment.

It made you want to scream “I am not in the mood to hear whatever stupid you plan on letting out of your mouth.” You confessed as you ran your fingers through your hair “so let’s just pack it in and go talk to the girls who actually give a fuck about what you have to say.” You patted his shoulder before you tried to try around to go back to your couch.

Sidney scoffed as he followed you further into your apartment “don’t think they would care about how much of a bitch you are.” His comment had you stopping dead in your tracks.

Slowly you spun around trying to think of what you were going to say “that’s a bit of the pot calling the kettle black,” you pointed out as your eyes went into a sharp line.

Your lips smacked together “you are a condensing little asshole who sticks his dick in anything that moves.” Your voice was laced with venom “so I am going to remind again. Go. Talk. To. Someone. Who. Cares.” Each of those last words were like a slap in the face to the older boy.

His eyes went down your body noting the Canadian hockey training T-shirt that looked like it was a dress on you “god you are so irritating Crosby.” You let out a chuckle rubbing your hands over your face as you locked eyes with him.

The way you chewed at the inside of your cheek like you were thinking about something “you should go,” you added turning to bring him back to your door.

Sidney wrapped his hand around your wrist pulling you back to face him as your chest went flush with his “sometimes you need to keep your mouth shut,” he mumbled hooking his fingers under your jaw leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss before you even got the chance to argue with him.

It was aggressive, almost knocking you over as Sidney finally had the chance to put all of the irritating thoughts about you into something. Teeth clattered when your hands went up underneath his shirt “still want me to go?” Sidney teased letting his hands shift to your cheeks as he forced you to look up at him.

You scoffed letting out an unamused laugh “don’t make me regret what I’m thinking of doing.” You warned causing him to smile “thought I only fucked puck bunnies,” his voice was soft as you matched his smile “someone had to take one for the team and show you what you are missing.” Your comment matched the playful tone of his own as it was finally what he needed to hear to go back to kissing you.

His hands ran up the backs of your thighs “jump baby,” Sidney mumbled against your lips causing you to listen to him.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as you kicked those duck slippers off of your feet “thought they were cute,” the pout on his lips made you laugh “shut up,” the shake of your head as you pointed him in the direction of your bedroom made him smile “make me,” his words had your lips back on his all the way until he got back into your room.

The taste of your vanilla lipgloss went straight to his brain as it was scratching an itch that he didn’t know he had “you sure you want this?” He asked letting your body drop onto your bed.

All you could do was nod “don’t start caring about what I have to say now,” you mumbled feeling like the fact that you had let him into your bedroom should have been a clear enough answer “want to hear you say it.” Sidney’s tone was serious as he dropped to his knees comfortably finding his position between your legs as his hands went to either side of you caging you in beneath him.

You took the moment to notice how his eyes stared into your soul, lips hovering just above yours. Whimpers left your lips as you tried to push yourself closer to him attempting to lift your lips to his “just fuck me Sidney.” Your vulgar words were things that Sidney found hard to ignore, you didn’t usually call him by his name usually opting for Sid or Crosby (those were the appropriate ones that you said to his name).

His lips were rough against yours leaving you wanting to cry out in pleasure as his jeans rubbed against your clothed pussy “could have had this months ago,” Sidney pointed out as he moved his lips to your neck as his hands went down to the bottom of the shirt you had stolen from Connor “yeah but your mouth fucking ruined that.” You pointed out forcing your hips up as his fingers found their home wrapping around the waistband of your thong.

It was white reminding him of your innocence as Sidney wanted to feel dirty when the thoughts of how you tasted went through his mind when in actuality all he felt was desire “open your mouth for me,” he ordered as his two fingers tapped on your lower lip.

Of course you listened to him as you clenched around nothing, simply being turned on by the idea of him bossing you around “suck” Sidney swore he was dreaming as your tongue swirled around those two digits treating them like you would if they were his cock “so fucking obedient all of a sudden.” The hockey player noted letting his other hand come to your panties as he pulled them off of you once and for all “All you needed was a good fuck thought wasn’t it?” His breath fanned between your thighs as he refused to let his fingers leave your mouth.

The only thing you could do was nod as an inaudible ‘yeah’ was only met with a grunt when he felt the vibrations from your mouth go straight to his cock.

Sidney removed his fingers letting out a low groan as the trail of spit followed his fingers breaking as it landed on your chin “gonna make you feel so good,” it was like he was giving you the heads up as his fingers now soaked in your spit went to you bare pussy letting the calloused tips go against your clit.

Your head dug its way further into your mattress giving the boy the perfect chance to let his lips go back to your neck sucking at the soft skin when his fingers began thrusting inside of you “holy shit you’re soaked!” Sidney gasped bringing your one thigh up so that he could get a deeper angle “makes me think you’ve been wanting this all along.” His voice was deep, bait hanging over you like he wanted you to take it.

Temptation hung over you as the boys thumb found it’s place against your clit whilst his other fingers didn’t let up “still can’t fucking stand you.” You confessed being honest as you swore you were going to go into tomorrow acting like this hadn’t happened “so cute when you lie.” Sidney cooed placing a kiss on your temple.

His fingers were thick as your core clenched around them “fucking hell cap,” you groaned bringing your hands through your shirt so that you could tease your nipples.

That phrase made his eyes grow darker than they already were “what did you just call me?” The pressure he had on your clit increased when he had to make sure he wasn’t hearing things.

You gasped when his other hand replaced yours on your breast “c-cap,” your eyes screwed shut when he lower his lips to wrap them around the other nipple.

When his teeth ever so softly nipped at the sensitive peak your eyes shot open locking with his.

A smirk was clearly on his face as he began to pickup the pace that he was fingering you at “‘m not gonna last,” you confessed bringing your hips up to grind on his fingers “yes you will baby.” Sidney nodded removing his lips from your nipple as he planted kisses down the valley of your breasts making his way past your stomach “so fucking pretty.” He groaned hearing the squelching of your pussy as he replaced his thumb with his tongue over your clit.

At that point you knew you were teetering over the edge as your fingers locked into his hair “want to you look at me when you come,” as soft as it came out you knew that he wasn’t asking you to do it, he was telling you.

With all of your energy you let your eyes trail down from your ceiling to stare at his.

What you never expected was that he’d have eyes that could practically undress you as they stared at yours “please let me come!” You begged as tears were close to forming in your eyes due to how you felt “mhm,” Sidney nodded moving his hand that was still on your breast down to your thighs so that he could hold you in place.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck as your body shuddered so hard you almost bounced on your bed “shit shit holy fuck!” You called out letting a string of profanities leave your lips as your hands wrapped up in the bedsheet beneath you.

Sidney didn’t let his thrusts slow down though once you came back down from the orgasm “Sid ‘s too much,” you shook your head trying to wiggle out of his grip.

He wanted to laugh at the sigh you let out when you accepted your fate “taste so sweet baby,” Sidney finally pulled away from you as he wanted you to last when he fucked you.

His fingers covered in your release tapped on your lip “taste yourself for me,” he mumbled letting himself watch as you let his fingers almost fuck your face with the way he was helping you take them.

You wanted to clench your thighs as you could see how Sidney’s chin was glistening but with his legs in between yours, you instead let out a groan “so sweet isn’t it?” Sidney asked letting his fingers slide out of your mouth as he had enough of watching that.

The boy softly grabbed your jaw as he brought himself down to kiss you once more “fuck baby,” he grunted as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

It was hot as he brought you onto his lap flipping you two over in the process. This was the first time that you got to feel his boner as you were now sat on his jeans “so big,” you mumbled as you let your fingers tug at his shirt as you wanted it off.

Sidney smiled as he pulled away from you “not fair you being in so little isn’t it?” He asked watching you nod as he pulled his shirt over his head.

You had seen his chest before, plenty of times in fact but you still couldn’t help it when your breathing stopped as you took in his chest beneath you “like what you see?” Sidney tucked your hair behind your ear letting his fingers run down your jaw before he pulled you into another kiss.

Your hips unintentionally moved against his jeans letting yourself get brought close to another orgasm “next time you come I’m gonna be inside of you.” His breath fanned against the shell of your ear causing your head to fall back.

The boy helped you off of him so that he could unbuckle his belt “who would have thought you looked this fucking pretty under all your clothes.” Sidney grunted when he saw your fully naked body as you threw your shirt onto the floor.

It made your cheeks turn pink “finally seeing what the bunnies enjoy,” you smirked seeing his cock as it hit his torso.

That comment was a stroke to his ego as he looked in his wallet “fuck,” he groaned seeing the lack of a condom in his wallet.

You were quick to catch on to what made him upset “I’m on the pill,” you announced shrugging as there was too much tension between your thighs to let him leave your apartment without letting you come.

Sidney swore he was on cloud nine when you said that, usually the girls that he slept with were ones that he wanted to wear a condom for. But you were one that he was actually excited to fuck you raw “you sure?” He asked watching you wrap your hand around his cock “don’t go all soft on me now cap.” You had realised earlier that his title evoked this animalistic side of him.

He lowered himself onto your bed for what seemed like the hundredth time of the night “so pretty,” you smiled as he kissed your lips.

His cock was hard as he directed it over your clit letting it tease the sensitive nub “don’t be a dick Crosby,” you mumbled sending him a glare until he listened to you as he thrusted his cock inside of your pussy.

You wrapped your hands around his arms eyes screwed shut as you adjusted to his size “who would have thought that this is how I shut you up.” Sidney leaned down to kiss you as his movement had you groaning when he ended up letting his cock slide deeper into you.

Sidney was quick to smile as you tapped his arm “god,” you groaned feeling him hit spots that you could only ever imagine of feeling.

The way you wrapped around his cock made him feel like he was the only man in the world “god ain’t here princess,” he mumbled smiling as your head tilted digging further into your pillow.

You wanted to scoff as he nipped at your jaw “only thing is a guy with a small dick.” You warned smirking at him as you scowled.

Your comment made him one to fuck you into oblivion “gonna make you regret that.” The hockey player confessed as he readjusted your hips forcing his cock deeper into you “like that now huh?” Sidney asked letting his hand go around your throat as he watched your eyes roll back into your head.

Sounds of skin slapping lit up your apartment as grunts and moans mixed into it “don’t stop,” you pleaded letting your hand go on top of his.

It was hot how his fingers never fully pressed in at the sides of your throat meaning that your blood flow only slightly slowed down “pussy was made for me Jesus.” Sidney groaned moving his other hand between you both so it could attack your clit.

With all your focus you smiled “only me cap,” you let out a giggle as he brought his lips back down to yours “just like heaven.” He murmured letting his lips engulf yours in a kiss.

You had to admit that the sex was probably in your top five as Sidney’s cock throbbed from inside of you “can you feel me in there baby?” He asked moving his hand from your throat to rest on your lower stomach where he placed enough pressure that even he could feel his cock thrusting.

A cry left your lips “so fucking full!” You nodded as you didn’t think that you were going to last much longer especially because you were still sensitive from your first orgasm of the night.

Sidney picked up on this as your core began clenching around him “gonna ruin you for all other men,” he confessed letting you know just what his intentions were.

With only another orgasm on your mind you didn’t care what he said “please Sid,” you begged looking up at him like he was the only man who mattered.

If any of the guys from the team knew what you two were getting up to right now they would never have believed it “keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last long baby.” The hockey player murmured with his fingers digging into your side “gonna come,” you announced feeling your toes curl up as the boy didn’t let up on his motions.

What you didn’t expect him to do was growl at you “fucking hold it,” he warned causing you to sink your teeth into your lower lip.

You wanted to cry “i-I can’t Sid,” you shook your head feeling your eyes begin to grow shaky.

Sidney leaned down to your ear “we both know that ain’t what you been calling me in here.” He mumbled placing a kiss on your ear lobe.

He wanted to say that he was proud of himself for lasting this long “please cap fuck,” you whimpered as your legs shook from either side of him “be a good girl for you,” you added almost setting off his orgasm right there.

That was the moment that he knew he couldn’t last any longer “come for me baby fuck,” Sidney blurted out as your orgasm hit you like a truck letting you see stars.

Your cry could have been heard from anywhere on the floor “don’t stop,” but you didn’t care as you felt Sidney shoot his release into you “so good,” he grunted as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

He kissed your lips as he let his cock slide out of your pussy causing your body to shudder to again “you okay?” Sidney asked as your eyes repeated blinked at him.

All you could do was nod “I’m gonna get a washcloth.” He mumbled pressing a kiss to your forehead as he got up making his way to your bathroom.

You smiled to yourself as you propped your head up by your hand watching his bare ass move away from you “that Bedard?” Sidney’s eyes went wide as he picked up the picture frame and looked at the image of you and Connor from when you were kids.

Guilt hit the Canadian like a truck as he realised the resemblance between you two “why did you tell me he’s your brother!” He groaned pinching the bridge of his nose.

A laugh left your lips “you choosing to ignore the fact that Bedard is my last name ain’t my fault old man.” You teased him as Sidney placed the picture frame back down on your table “I know you ain’t calling the man who made you come like that old.” His words made you laugh as he decided to forget about the wash cloth and instead come back to your bed.

As his knees hit the mattress you knew you were getting what you wanted “most men usually get three orgasms out of me.” You confessed smiling as his lips were back down by yours.

Sidney was naturally competitive, and the fact that it came from you only meant more “that just means I’m gonna have to make you go four more rounds then.” His words showed you that he wasn’t going to messing around.

Seven weeks later

You nervously sat in your bathroom as you waited for the timer to go off. Your period was late by more than a few weeks and there was only one man you had slept with since your last cycle. Since Sidney left your apartment he had gone back to his old ways making you feel stupid for ever even letting him in.

The timer went off pulling you away from your thoughts as you flipped over the series of tests that you had taken “oh fuck me!”

Pregnant

Pregnant

Pregnant

Now you were going to have to tell this child’s father.

[bandgie]

Desire

President!Jongho x fem!reader

Synopsis: The company dinner was meant to destress your busy corporate life, but it seems like you'll have to make room for dessert.

warnings: slow burn? public fingering, cum eating/swapping, pussy play mostly, intoxication mentions but everyone is pretty much sober

song! 3.7k words

Choi Jongho is not necessarily hated, but he isn't liked either. There's an air around him that screams dominance and demands authority. He strives for perfection and expects everyone to give their all. As stubborn as he is, even with as much unwarranted fear he instills in everyone, you respect his drive.

You're on the opposite spectrum of Mr. Choi. A bit more lenient with the staff, not as ambitious, not as...scary as Seonghwa has once said. Despite the differences, you hardly bump heads with Jongho. Working so close with him, you the director and him the president, you've got to see sides of him others don't.

A more human side. 

Working in a corporation may be exhausting, especially in a law firm, but connecting with your subordinates is what makes it enjoyable. Though Mr. Choi doesn't share the same sentiment, you think he secretly enjoys the fruit basket you leave on his desk each time he secures a client.

You may not be able to buy Jongho another one of those baskets this time though. Stress eats at you from the most recent decisions of a particular client. They go against your financial advising, blaming you for the bankruptcy they will most likely endure. It'll make a bad name for the firm and you don't want to imagine Mr. Choi's displeasure. 

"What a bunch of fucking idiots," you groan under your breath. 

Yunho lifts his head from his computer at your mumbling. He peers over the little wall that divides your desks and waits until you notice him. When your eyes meet his brown ones, he raises an eyebrow, "Who?"

You scrunch your nose as you answer, "That Dreamy Day company. They're complaining about losing money, but it's literally their fault. Putting stocks when they shouldn't and over-drafting loans. So they hire us to make sure they don't go out of business right? But they do the opposite of what we're advising them to do. So they're wasting even more money and blaming me! Me! You should see the emails, Yunho. They're a bunch of fucking assholes too."

From the stunned look on Yunho's face, you think you've said too much. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose, "Sorry. I'm just stressed." Yunho nods understandingly and shrugs, "Aren't we all? I think you'll be happy to know that Mr. Choi said he'll pay for the company dinner tonight."

This makes you perk your head up, eyes wide open. "Dinner? Tonight? No no no I can't do that. I have too much work and-"

"And you'll have to save it for tomorrow. Boss's words, not mine." Yunho smiles at your defeated look, an innocent gaze in his eyes. "You need this." He continues. "We need this. At least one day to relax. If Mr. Boss can tell you're overworked, then there's a problem."

You sigh again, though it's not as heavy. Since you've been working overtime to create a business strategy for Dreamy Day, you've only been eating takeout and convenience store food. Maybe it would do you good to eat something cooked with someone else's money. 

"I guess there's nothing I can do then. What restaurant?"

-

The restaurant, Arriba, smells of spices and meat. The warm lights make you feel cozy and you enjoy the subtle chatter from the people around you. An abundance of food sits in the middle of your table, already halfway gone. Yunho's face is flushed from alcohol, but he still takes another swig of his drink.

"Damn Seonghwa! I didn't think you'd eat this much. You're so thin!" You chuckle as the said man blushes from the attention. He shoves another piece of cooked meat in his mouth, "I eat well."

"Ah, that's nothing," Jongho gestures to Seonghwa's plate. "In college, Park used to apply for cook positions just to eat the nightly leftovers. He used to purposely make the customers' food wrong so he could remake it and eat the one they sent back."

That sputters a laugh from you. One reason is that Seonghwa's gluttony runs deeper than you thought, the other now knowing that the senior associate used to flip burgers. 

"No way," you manage to subdue your laughter. "Did they ever find out?"

Seonghwa, even slightly tipsy, doesn't like to be the center of attention. He picks up his bottle and takes a strategically long drink just to avoid your question. However, he can't escape your curious eyes waiting for an answer. He finally sets his drink down and swallows loudly, "Yes...I didn't last longer than four months."

Yunho laughs at the honesty, wrapping an arm around Seonghwa's shoulder. "It's okay Hwa. We don't want to pay for leftovers anyway."

You chuckle at their interaction before glancing at Jongho beside you. Only his ears and what's exposed on his neck are flushed. Rather than the serious look you're used to, his eyes are softer. There's a sense of calamity rolling off him that makes you look at him in a different light. Even if he's working in such a high position, you can't help but notice how young he is in a moment like this.

"You too Jongho, you can handle your liquor pretty good." You notice your mistake a bit too late. Your boss is pretty stern about properly addressing him and even outside of work you think he might correct you. Instead, he turns his head to you and his lips twist into a smirk. 

Your heart flutters. 

Jongho raises his shot glass to eye level and looks at it almost affectionately, "Alcohol is a man's best friend." He brings the glass to his lips and shoots it back. He licks his lips and lets out a satisfied sigh once he's gulped, "Every good president should know how to drink well."

The night continues with drunk laughter and playful banter. Though you've worked with these men for years, you feel as though you're finally getting to know them as they share stories of their youth. Yunho is obsessed with Harry Potter, Seonghwa prefers Star Wars and Jongho...Jongho...

Was he always this handsome? Did he always have such a cute, gummy smile? It has to be the light bouncing off his tan skin that captivates you. It's the warm food and cozy environment that makes you sit hip-to-hip with him. That yearning for contact is because of the soju. The way you shiver when his hands brush against yours when he reaches for seconds is because you're just hyper-sensitive.

It's anything but him, you remind yourself. 

It's a mantra you repeat while Jongho pays for bills, while he holds the door open for you four to shuffle out of, as he asks if everyone wants to go to a bar. 

You blink yourself out of your thoughts, "Huh?"

"It's a shame to waste the night. Plus we don't do this often. But I understand if it's too late for you guys," he looks amongst the three of you, waiting for an answer. 

Even if you weren't suddenly crushing on your boss, it would be foolish to turn down a higher-up's offer. Yunho and Seonghwa seem to think the same thing as they agree quickly. "I could go for another round," Yunho nods. 

Jongho smiles in a way that makes you tremble so violently that Seonghwa asks if you want his jacket. 

"Sounds good," Jongho claps his hands a few times. "I'll keep a tab open, but do your best to remember we have work tomorrow.

-

It's a completely different environment in the bar compared to Arriba. Seonghwa mentioned the place MATZ his old friend runs to go to. Maybe you expected some level of decency, but you're shocked to see what feels like hundreds of people standing, drinking, dancing. Then the foul smell of beer and what you hope isn't vomit fills your nose. You cover your mouth and blink away your tears. 

The crowd eyes the four of you judgingly as you push your way to an empty booth. It's mostly likely because of your attire. While everyone wears either skin-tight or little clothing, you four wear business casual. 

You jump when a hand settles on the small of your back. You're about to, not so nicely, tell the perv to keep their hands to themselves when it's Jongho you see close behind you. He doesn't so much as look at you when you peer up at him, face heating. You whip your head back around and let him guide you to a dirty, but empty table.

''I think this is a club rather than a bar, Mr. Park!" Jongho shouts over the loud music.

Mr. Park...oh he's pissed. 

Seonghwa's eyes widen in fear as he sneaks glances at you. Help!

You would rather not risk enduring the anger of Jongho, but Seonghwa has such a begging look in his eyes that you cave. "Maybe this is a good thing!" you shout in Jongho's ear. "I mean, you took us out to relax, right? And like you said, we don't do this often."

Jongho raises an eyebrow as he turns to face you. Since you were leaning in his ear, his face is mere inches away from your own. You swear you can feel his warm breath on your lips. Jongho looks at you up and down in a way that makes your skin crawl. He isn't just looking at you, he's observing you. You think he's debating on demoting you when he laughs instead, "Using my own words against me, huh? Shouldn't expect anything less than my director."

Seonghwa visibly relaxes at the diffused situation, but now you're the tense one. All you can stare at is Jongho. Different lights, different smells, different places, yet he still captivates you. You tremble at his intense stare, feeling the way his eyes eat you.

His tongue pokes out to moisten the side of his bottom lip.

"Imma gets some drinks," Yunho's announcement breaks the stare-off. Jongho turns his attention to the tall man and reaches into the pocket of his coat. You watch as his nimble fingers dig through his wallet to pull out the company card and hand it to Yunho. 

"Just put it under my name," he instructs.

Yunho scoots until he's out of the booth, leaving you three at the table before someone catches Seonghwa's eye.

"Oh!" He quickly shuffles to his feet. "I see my friend. I'm going to say a quick hi. If you'll excuse me." Jongho gives a nod before Seonghwa disappears into the sea of bodies. 

Then there were two. 

You don't know where to look, where to pretend to look. You choose the dance floor where people shamelessly rub against each other, spilling drinks and hollering with deaf-tone singing. It's somewhat overstimulating to your semi-sober mind, but it's better than the burning presence of Jongho beside you.

"Do you like to dance?" that burning presence speaks. A part of you wants to pretend that you didn't hear him over the loud atmosphere, but you know better than that.

"Yes!" You yell in his direction but refuse to meet his eyes. "I don't go out anymore, but I danced when I did." You see the outline of Jongho nodding. Awkwardly, you meet his eyes, "Do you like to dance?"

He shrugs, "I don't care much for it. I prefer singing."

A look of surprise molds into your face, "Singing? Since when?"

"Since forever," he smiles. "I should have chosen a karaoke bar instead. Not this shit fest." Jongho laughs at his crudeness, waiting for your response. 

"I mean, it would have been more quiet. That's for sure!" You smile at his joyful expression. "But I don't mind this. When Yunho comes back with drinks, I think we'll be having a much better time."

Jongho nods, but there's a somewhat youthful expression in his eyes you don't think you've ever seen. 

"Maybe we should go dance," you propose. "Just until Yunho comes back." There's an immediate feeling of regret when the question slips from you. You want to blame the atmosphere for getting to your head, the drunk energy making its way to your veins. 

But when you see him smile curiously when you see him nod, when you grab him by the wrist and lead him to the middle of the floor, you're buzzing with excitement you know is far from those things. 

Jongho is a better dancer than he claimed to be. He runs his hands up and down your torso, pulling you close or moving his hips with yours. He even trails the tips of his fingers down your neck when you tilt up to the ceiling.

Yunho and Seonghwa are more than likely back at the booth, wondering where you two went. If they were to see you dancing like this, to see Jongho's moving against you this way, you think they'd never let you hear the end of it. 

You can't seem to find the energy to care though. Not when Jongho's letting you grind against his thighs. He encourages it, keeping his hands at your waist to help you ride him. The two of you have already crossed so many lines by doing this, you might as well see how far you can get. 

You can feel his erection through his work pants, poking your leg. As much as you want to twist a hand between and 'help,' it would be too obvious. You settle with feeling your wet underwear rub against your cunt, staining your pants. 

Good thing it's already dark out. 

Jongho lets you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He can hear every pant, every whine, feel the way your tongue laps at his sweat. He can feel your warm cunt through the fabric, but he doubts it'll be enough for him.

He snakes a hand between your bodies undo the button of your slacks and finds the zipper. 

"Jongho!" You gasp in his ear. You glance down to see him working his fingers down until they cup over your clothed mound. You tremble in his hold, softly moaning at the contact before you come to your senses. 

"There are people!"

"There are."

"They're gonna see!"

"They might."

You're going to reply when his hand rubs up and down. Your hips rock before you can think, chasing the pleasure Jongho so willingly gives you. 

"I don't know why you're worried." He shakes his head. "You're so wet. Did you want me to ignore that?"

The only response he gets is soft moans in his ear. He giggles at your desperation, opting to move his palm in circles. 

"I saw the way you were looking at me during dinner," Jongho admits. "At first, I thought it was because of the drinks. You know how some people get like when they have one too many. But now that we're here, I wonder if you've been wet this whole time."

Were you that obvious? Could Jongho see you eye-fucking him? Could he feel the desire that wrecked you these last hours? He must, even if it weren't for his confession. Jongho must feel the same way if he's letting you hump his hand without care.

"Mmm sorry. Sorry," it's all breathy against his skin when you speak. "D-don't fire me."

That sputters a laugh out of him. You grip onto him a little tighter by the shoulder. His hand is drenched, and it's so easy to slide back and forth on it. But the fabric of your underwear is starting to get irritating. It's too rough on your sensitive flesh and you're trying to slip his hand inside your panties. 

Once his laughter subdues, he smiles down at your frenzied state. "I wasn't even thinking that. I'm sure HR would get a laugh out of my director humping my hand like a bunny."

You whine in his neck, both from embarrassment and need. Even as he teases you, Jongho relents and slips his fingers past your panties. The feeling of his bare fingers rubbing against your cunt makes you shiver, humming in satisfaction.

Jongho runs two of his fingers up and down your slit, getting familiar with how your body reacts to his touches. He moves the pad of his fingers up to rub circles over your clitoris. You let out an airy moan, thankful for the loud music concealing your mewls.

"I won't tell them," Jongho promises. "A little secret between us two."

The people around you have gotten the clue that you two are more than dancing. Some move to a different spot, others giggle at the desperation, but most roll their eyes as if this is a common occurrence at MATZ. Either way, you don't care. Not when your boss's fingers dip between your folds, spreading your lips and using his thumb to apply pressure on your clit. 

You could cum from how Jongho plays with your pussy alone, but your walls keep clenching down on air. It leaves you feeling frustrated with nothing inside you. His fingers feel thick, they can do the job.

"Can...can we keep another secret?" You bite on your lower lip, looking up at Jongho whose eyes never left your face. The colors of the strobe lights bounce beautifully on his face, capturing his already-knowing smile. "Depends. You have to tell me first."

Strategically, you trail kisses from his neck to his ear, biting on his earlobe as you whisper, "I wanna feel your fingers in me. Creaming around them. God, fuck, I just want to cum on them."

That playful air around Jongho seems to darken, turning into something akin to desire. He teases your entrance with the tips of his fore and middle finger. Circling and barely dipping them in before pulling away. "I thought there were people?" He flashes a gummy smile. 

"Jonghooo."

He smiles wider at your whining, but it's what makes him oblige. Two thick fingers finally make their way inside you carefully. He slides them in with ease from how wet his entire hand already was and with how relaxed your body is. He slightly wiggles his fingers to find a comfortable position for both of you, adding to the already stretching stimulation. 

You clench around his digits eagerly, loudly moaning from finally being somewhat filled. Everything about him is warm, from the fingers finding a pace, to his palm that smacks against your entire pussy. Slick drips down your thighs, collecting onto the fabric on your work pants. If you thought they were soaked before, they are utterly drenched now.

Jongho doesn't bother with a slow pace. He can tell from how you're bouncing on his hand that you need more than what you started with. With his free hand, he hooks one of your legs up to rest on his hip so he has better access. With this opening angle, it's easier for him to piston his fingers in and out of you.

It's loud, it's wet, it's obscene. 

You should feel disgusted or ashamed at the very least. But Jongho's so good at finger fucking you. He doesn't seem to mind your loud whines, your rocking hips, and his dirty sleeves getting wetter by the second. After all, a good subordinate follows in the footsteps of their superiors.

His fingers aren't necessarily long, but they still build that fire in your belly. Your orgasm approaches, affecting how your riding turns into messy humping; How you make a conscious effort to try and quiet your louder moans. Your walls repeatedly tighten around Jongho and he drives it home.

Harshly, Jongho drives his fingers as far as they can go, wiggling just the tips to prod that rough spot in your pussy. It feels as though it's in your stomach, reaching even deeper than you know is possible. Your hips come to a complete stop, opting to spasm uncontrollably. 

A few more harsh pumps, some clit play with Jongho's thumb, and you feel yourself coming undone. The tightly coiled pleasure blossoms in your stomach, spreading its heat to your legs, your chest, and your sensitive cunt. You gasp in his ear, torn between staying awkwardly slightly or embarrassingly loud.

Jongho decides for you. He captures your parted lips in a messy kiss, eating your wails and moans. You pant in his mouth, trying to match his stroking tongue with yours. It's difficult to kiss him back when your orgasm floods your senses, but Jongho hardly seems to care about your tired lips.

You squeal when he gently pulls his fingers downwards. The drag makes your eyes roll, still delicate at every move. Jongho doesn't take them out all the way, but instead drives them forward. He maintains a slowly pumping speed to help you ride off your high.

It's overwhelming to have both your lips occupied, so you make the difficult choice to pull away from Jongho's kiss and rest your head on his chest. He frowns at first, but upon seeing your droopy eyelids and constant moans, he accepts that he's drawing your orgasm too far out.

That doesn't mean you don't whine when he finally pulls his fingers out, cunt cold and empty. 

With hazy eyes, you watch as he brings his fingers up to eye level, glistening in the artificial lighting. Wordlessly, he traces those same fingers across your bottom lip, wiping your essence in the process. You open your mouth so he can further push them between your lips. 

"How do you taste?" Jongho questions, eyes stuck on where your tongue swirls around. 

You hum in response, leaning forward to reach his fingers to the knuckles. Slowly, you pull away, letting his fingers out with a 'pop!'

"Try for yourself."

You snake a hand around his neck and bring him forward, putting your tongue in his mouth immediately. Jongho groans at the taste, cupping your face with both hands as he pulls you closer. He digs his tongue deeper and sucks on yours to get every drop of cum you have. It's not until you're gasping for air that he pulls away, licking his lips. 

"Fuck," he swears. "Hiding that from me all this time, huh Director?"

With glossy, cum-stained lips, you smile. "Didn't think it was part of the job."

As if on cue, Jongho's phone begins to vibrate between your bodies. He removes a hand from your face to reach his pocket and look at the caller. He glances at you and then at the phone before silencing the call.

"We should find our table."

a/n: omfg I have been so dry im so sorry school is kicking MY ASS I have like 1000 words due every week for one class then 300 a week for another and there's so much articles to read omfg ANYWHO I hoped you all liked this one!!!

[princessmaybank]

Not A Quitter

Pairings: stepbro!JJ x stepsis!reader

Warnings: MDNI, unsolicited dick pic, stepcest, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (both receive), slight dark JJ at the end, etc.

Summary: stepbro JJ accidentally sends you a dick pic meant for someone else

Authors Note: Hi! Another Random Dick Pic! Please don't click unless you are 18+!!! Proceed at your own risk! Unedited, sorry if it's terrible, this was a quick finish up from my drafts.

You were just trying to study in your room peacefully. The lyrics to 18 by One Direction filled your ears as you were writing down notes for your exam in history class tomorrow.

As your favorite part was coming up, you paused so you could sing along to it. You were waiting to hear Niall's 'we took a chonce' but it never came. A notification had interrupted it. You received a snap from your step-brother JJ. He probably wanted to know what you were going to make for dinner since your mom and his dad were out.

You clicked on the picture not expecting what you saw next.

🔥Jayj🔥:

(Authors Note: MDNI!!! This is a RANDOM dick pic I found online. Please proceed at your own risk.)

"Whatcha doin tonight baby?"

*Y/N POV*

I knew it was meant for someone else but he really turned me on. I figured he didn't even notice yet. This was probably so bad of me but it felt really good to do this.

I took my top off and snapped him back with a picture of my tits. Next thing I know I hear a few slams and what I assume is JJ running to my room. "What the fuck??" He said exploding into my room like I did something wrong. I was still sitting topless at my desk. "Why did you send me a picture of your tits??" He questioned but it looked like he was starting to blush. "Why did you send me a picture of your dick??" I yelled back at him. His face went pale. "What do you mean?!" JJ seemed very anxious at this point. "You sent me a picture of your big cock and asked what I was doing." I gave him doe eyes after my statement, but I could tell he couldn't keep his eyes on anything but my 38DD's.

"I-I didn't mean to send that to you I'm sorry." JJ looked softly at me bending down to his knees when he realized I was a little upset. "I'm not saying I didn't enjoy what I saw, or what I'm still seeing, it was just, my picture was meant to go to Kiara." I still hung my head low. "Hey you're gorgeous, and I love your tits, they are so perky and fucking perfect." He said reaching out his hands to touch them and I let him. "So...fucking...perfect." I looked into his eyes. I could tell something was bugging him.

"What's wrong?" I begged, wanting to know what was clouding that beautiful head of his. "I just- I'm getting nowhere with Kie and I still sent that shit anyway, knowing I'd be alone in my room, playing with myself." He tried to look down but I wouldn't let him. I tilted his head back up with my pointer finger. "I can help you Jayj." I say almost too fast. "But wouldn't that be wrong? We are step siblings now." He had a point but so did I. "True, but we aren't blood related, and you break the rules 24/7. Plus are you really going to turn down getting your dick sucked, and possibly more?" His eyes widened as I continued my statement. "And, you just fondled my tits, I think it's a little too late to worry about being step siblings." I let out a small chuckle.

He let an awkward pause sit between my last speech and what he did next. JJ put his hands on both sides of my face pulling me into the deepest kiss I've ever had. His lips never left mine as he started pulling my shorts and panties off. Before I could say anything his hand snaked between my legs and his fingers started toying with my clit. He pulled our lips apart and rested his forehead on mine while I moaned for him.

"You're already so wet for me baby." My eyes were closed but I could see his dumbass smirk in my head. He slipped his finger between my folds, but never went further. This bitch was teasing me. My eyes were pinched shut, hoping for more contact. Next thing I know, I feel his warm, wet tongue slowly lap at my clit. I couldn't help but lightly hump his tongue. "More...Jayj-" I moaned out. He reached up and grabbed my right boob which caused me to look down at him. I was greeted with the darkest, sexiest, hungriest, pair of eyes I have ever seen, and they were between my thighs. Without taking his eyes off mine he licked my clit back and forth painfully slowly. I went to shut my eyes again when I felt a sting on my pussy, he had just slapped it which of course got my attention. "Eyes on me princess." That was almost enough to send me over the edge. He went back to my clit, sucking on it this time and actually inserting a finger. I was a moaning mess for him. He loved every minute of it. He also loved hearing his name or his nickname slip from my lips. "Jayj- I'm-Im close."

I shouldn't have said a word. He stopped everything he was doing immediately after I said that. I frowned and whined at the lack of contact.

Without saying anything he got up and tossed me over his shoulder, taking me to my bed and playfully throwing me onto it. Before he got on the bed with me he undressed himself which was very pleasant to watch. I know I just saw his dick over Snapchat, but damn it was even better in person. He was on his knees on the bed in front of me. His hand found the back of my head and lightly nudged me forward. "Come here princess, help me out a little."

My lips met his tip, giving a few small pecks before slowly taking him in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around which resulted in JJ throwing his head back. He gripped my hair and began pushing down so I would go up and down.

(A/N: A little background information, if you wanna skip go to the next A/N.)

I did whatever this man wanted me to do. I had always liked JJ, even before our parents met. We were actually the reason they met. JJ and I have been best friends since middle school and with all the trouble we used to get into, our parents met several times. We grew a bit apart because of them deciding to marry each other. JJ and I had a weird..thing going on before our parents became a couple. Sometimes when we were curious we would go to each other and see what would happen. Nothing ever really came from it other than lots of kissing and sometimes some heavy petting. We called all of that off two years ago though. When he had come to the conclusion that he couldn't have me anymore, he ran to Kiara, and she was ready for that immediately. Everything was going great for them I guess, other than now, she's not even really responding to his messages.

(A/N: End of Information.)

When he was near his breaking point, I released my mouth and laid on my back. He crawled on top of me, starting a little make out session. I couldn't help my hand from finding his cock and rubbing him as we kissed. "Here baby, let's get you in a nice position." He flipped me over into doggystyle. This man was not wasting time anymore. He stuck his cock inside me as soon as I flipped over. We gasped in unison as he slipped himself into my tight pussy. "Are you trying to make me bust right now?" He let out a little chuckle which made my response a giggle. "Didn't take you for a one minute quitter Maybank." I had to tease him, I knew it would stir him up and in turn I would get dicked down harder.

And I did.

Without saying a word he began pulling my hips back to meet his. He was defending his honor, no one insulted him in such a way. He grabbed my hair and tied it around his hand, pulling me back far enough to feel some strain. He pounded harder making sure I would remember every detail from this moment. I couldn't stop my moan from exploding out of my mouth. "What was that baby? Is this too much for you? You wanna quit, slut?" I knew what he was fucking doing. He's not slick, I mean he is but not like that. "I'm not a quitter, unlike you." This riled him up even more. He went harder, spanking me until my ass was nearly bleeding. My vision was foggy and I knew nothing but pleasure. He only went harder and faster with every thrust. "Fuck I'm g-gonna cum." I barely got out. Before he could even react, I came all over his dick. Damn it. He didn't finish yet. I was tossed onto my back, into missionary, without his dick ever exiting me.

I felt a hot sting on my cheek. "Did I say you could cum, slut?!" It was almost difficult to take JJ so seriously while calling me that. He continued fucking my tight hole, I was already very sensitive so tears began to prick at my eyes. "N-no.." He lightly tapped my sensitive nub, repeatedly. "Then why did you?" JJ asked with a stern voice, keeping his quick pace. "I don't know, I'm sorry." "You're gonna be sorry slut, cause we aren't done yet." His thrusts were getting sloppy so I knew he was close. Eventually he came inside me, making sure he shoved all the cum that slipped out, right back in.

I started breathing and getting comfortable in bed. "What do you think you're doing princess?" He asked with that same harsh tone. "Getting ready for bed." I was a little confused. "I said, we. aren't. done. yet." He settled behind me reaching his arms out in front of me. "But you-u" "Oh, are you quitting?" He smirked. This bitch. "Game on." We went all night long. Needless to say, I think we are both very competitive.

[joeshiestyslover]

you promised

pairing: joe burrow x actress!reader

summary: joe promised to come to your premiere, but sometimes, some promises aren’t always kept

warnings: language, hints to smut at the end, very shitty dialogue, angst with a happy ending

lowercase intended

after all the months that you spent filming and working around your busy schedule, you were finally done. your long awaited netflix tv show was coming out in two days. you couldn’t be more excited for both the release and the premiere. this is your big break, this show is going to put you on the map. after this show, more and more people are gonna want to know your name.

you picked out the perfect dress, shoes, and jewelry for the premiere. but you couldn’t forget your perfect date, joe burrow. you and joe met in college at lsu while you were studying psychology. you both immediately clicked and have been together ever since. joe is the perfect boyfriend, the whole package. he’s sweet and extremely charming. it also helps that he’s fine as fuck.

after joe was drafted to the bengals, you made the leap and decided to move with him to cincinnati. it turned out to be one of the best decisions you ever made. the city is beautiful, easy to navigate and you get to be around joe almost all the time.

you’re in the bedroom packing for your trip to brooklyn, new york, where the premiere is scheduled to be held. you’re just about to head into the bathroom to collect your toiletries when you hear the garage door open. finally, joe was home and you finally have the chance to talk to him about what he is going to wear to the premiere.

“babe, i’m home!” you hear joe yell from downstairs. shortly after, you hear his heavy footsteps coming towards your shared bedroom. you then feel his arms snake around your waist and him pressing his lips to your cheek. “whatcha doing?” he asks. “i’m packing.” you respond. “for what?” ummmm. “for the the flight to new york tomorrow morning” you remind him. “my premiere’s in two days remember?” “shit y/n” he starts. oh hell no, you think. “joseph lee burrow, do not tell me you forgot about one of the most important nights of my life.” you slightly raise your voice as you turn around to face him. “i’m so sorry, but i promised the rookies i’d take them out to dinner.” you are beyond pissed now. if it slipped his mind, that’s one thing, but making plans on top of it and basically insinuating that his plans were more important than yours, that’s where you draw the line.

“you promised joe.” you can feel the tears of frustration start to pool in your eyes, but you don’t dare to let them fall. “you said you would be there and i expected you to keep your fucking promise.” “i really am sorry y/n, but i can’t skip this dinner; i promised those guys.” he says regretfully. “promised, my ass joseph. so you can keep your promises to your new teammates, but you can’t keep your promise to me? your girlfriend of three years? are you fucking kidding me?” you’re yelling now, no longer being able to hold back the tears.

“that’s not what i meant and you know it.” now joe was starting to get angry, as if he has the fucking right. “oh really?” you scoff. “then what did you mean? please enlighten me.” “i-” he starts to say, but you cut him off. “save it joe i don’t wanna talk about this anymore. i am going to that premiere because i promised everyone that i would, and unlike you joseph, i keep my promises.” at the last word, you poke at his chest, but you weren’t done yet. “you know i don’t see how it’s fair that i’m at every single event that’s important to you, and i show up to almost every game, and i have no problem cancelling plans with my friends, hell, even my fucking family, but you can’t push your stupid dinner back a couple of days for me? you know how important this is to me, but apparently it doesn’t mean shit to you.” “y/n-” “shut the fuck up joe. i’m going to this premiere, with or without you, but just so you know, if i show up alone, then it will be a very clear reflection of just how much you care about me and my accomplishments.” by the time you’re done with your rant, you’re panting, and you can feel the tears stalling at your chin. joe looks at you with sad eyes, but it’s clear that he has nothing to say.

“so that’s it? you’re just not gonna say anything?” you ask him, hoping he’ll get on his knees and beg to come with you to new york. but you’re met with silence. “okay” you say. “i’m gonna finish packing, then i’m gonna stay in the guest room tonight. if you change your mind, the flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow morning.” you take your toiletry bag into the bathroom and stuff your skincare products, makeup, and your hygiene products into it. you go back into the bedroom to find joe no longer standing there.

you can feel your tears resurfacing, but you refuse to cry for him. if he would rather go to dinner with his friends, then so be it. you were not going to let him ruin the best night of your life for you. after you finish packing, you grab your suitcase, and walk into your guest bedroom, but it’s already occupied by joe. he’s lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone, acting like you didn’t just yell at him. wow, you think. he doesn’t even feel just a little bit guilty. you walk out of the room and go back into your bedroom. you don’t like how it feels in there. it’s cold and gloomy, much different than the usual joy and warmth it’s filled with. you set your alarm for 7:00 and go straight to bed, not wanting to think about joe and your argument any longer. you toss and turn on the bed for god knows how long, knowing that joe is probably sleeping just fine without you. sleep is different without him, and you don’t like it one bit. all you want is to run into that guest bedroom and crawl into bed next to him, but you will not give into him; not until he gets his head out of his ass. finally, after what feels like hours of just rolling around the bed, you fall asleep.

your alarm blaring wakes you up from your dreamless sleep. after a few minutes of just lying on your bed, you sit up and walk into your bathroom. you look in the mirror, with your reflection looking back at you. i look like a fucking mess, you think to yourself. you brush out your hair and put it up just to keep it out of your face. then after brushing your teeth, you walk out of the bathroom and sneak down the hall to the guest room. you quietly open the door, and see him still sleeping. you want to wait a while, just to see if he’ll wake up and go to the airport with you, but you can’t. you know that the thirty minutes you spend waiting will turn into an hour, then two hours, and you’ll end up missing your flight, and you won’t let that happen.

you shut the door and go into your room to grab your suitcase and backpack. you roll it into your living room, and sit on your couch while waiting for the uber you ordered. you’re on your phone scrolling through tiktok, when you hear a door open and footsteps coming closer to you. you look up and find joe staring at you. joe breaks the eye contact and walks into the kitchen. your worst fear confirmed; you were going to new york alone. you soon get the alert that your uber has just pulled up to your house, so you grab your stuff and walk out your front door without sparing joe a single glance.

the trip to new york went smoothly, and you were able to check into your hotel, but you forgot the reservation was made under joe’s name. oh great! another reminder that he isn’t going to show up! you do everything you can to not think about joe, but everything seems to remind you of him. you hate being without him. you have the urge to text him, but you can’t. he has to know that he fucked up and he won’t be forgiven that easily.

the day of the premiere you’re shitting bricks. you didn’t realize just how much you need joe until you didn’t have him by your side helping you calm down. it also doesn’t help that he has been absolutely radio silent. the tiny voice in the back of your head constantly telling you, you’re not important enough and he has better things to do than waste his time with you.

you try to keep your mind off of him. you try to converse with your hair and makeup artist whilst she gets you ready. it works for a while, but you can’t stop thinking about him. he should be here, spending this moment with you, laughing and smiling with you, but if he didn’t think that you were important enough then fuck him.

once it’s time to go, you hop into the limousine, and it takes you to the theater where the premiere is. when you get there, the limo comes to a stop, and you get out. as soon as you walk out, you can hear thousands of people screaming your name. you plaster on a fake smile and walk over to the screaming fans, signing autographs and taking pictures. you’re soon guided by your manager to different reporters wanting to interview you. the first few interviews going great; the interviewers mostly asking what filming was like and how well you get along with your costars. one of the interviewers however, asks you the question you have been dreading to answer. “so y/n y/ln, where is your boyfriend, joe burrow tonight?” you try to think of an answer without sounding snippy or pitiful. “well you know we’re very busy people” you start to say. “sometimes our schedules just don’t align the way we want them to, so we just have to accept it and move on.” okay, that went well.

you finish up interviews and start to pose for pictures, the flashing of the cameras becoming almost blinding. after a few minutes, your manager walks up to you. “joe’s here.” she says.

what.

you look at her confused until you look over her shoulder to find your boyfriend dressed in a black suit with subtle patterns walking towards you. you don’t know whether to smile at him or slap him. he comes up to you and hugs you tightly as he whispers in your ear, “i’m so sorry baby, you were right. i was so fucking selfish and you deserve the same amount of support that you give me.” you fight the tears and whisper back a “thank you.”

you two pose for a little while longer until it’s time to walk into the theater. you take your seats, and joe takes your hand into his. soon after you sit down, the first two episodes of the show start to play on the screen. about halfway into the second episode, you look over at joe to see him with slight tears in his eyes. he feels your gaze, and turns to you with a smile. you smile back at him and once again turn your attention to the big screen.

once the episodes ended, you and joe socialize with your costars a bit during the after party before deciding it was time to go home. as you both start to walk back to joe’s car, he stops and turns to you. “i know i already told you, but words cannot explain how sorry i am. i was selfish and an idiot, and i was wrong for not taking your feelings into account. i love you and it wasn’t fair to you at all.” joe tells you with tears threatening to escape his eyes. “joe, i love you more than anything, and i’m glad you realized you were wrong, but this cannot happen again. what you did was hurtful, and all i wanted was for you to want to experience this moment with me. you made me feel unimportant, and as though you didn’t care about my successes.” you tell him, somehow holding back your sob, but your tears are flowing freely. “i never wanted to make you feel that way y/n. i’m so fucking proud of you and i’m so happy for you. you mean everything to me; i promise you this won’t happen again, and i know that i’m not the best at keeping my promises, but i intend on keeping this one.”

“good.” you smile. you wrap your hand around the back of his neck and you pull his lips to meet yours. the kiss slowly becomes more and more heated as he slips his tongue into your mouth. after a while of making out in the parking lot, you both break away for air. “you wanna go back to the hotel and celebrate properly?” you ask him, panting. “fuck yeah baby.” he picks you up over his shoulder and all but sprints to the car, unable to wait to get you back to the hotel room.

a/n: i hope y’all liked it. i haven’t written anything in a hot minute so please go easy on me 😭😭

[zmb1eslut]

Never healing wounds.

convinced myself I was alone.

word count: 535

warnings: animal violence, threats.

a/n: Luke Castellan's POV. First draft.

Another night without an ounce of sleep, because the summer air costumes itself as the warmth of Thalia's fingers wrapped around my arm when we hid together. And I can't both breathe and drawn on the shame. I was not enough to save her.

I draw the bow I borrowed, using the moonlight as a guide.

The best swordman in the last 300 hundred years. Yeah, get the last one for me and I'll show him why I'm tired of his fucking shadow. Distracting myself with just a dumb title to forget why I even pretend to care. She left it all for me. Us. And Annabeth is still here, and new children come every year. Everyone needs this guy. He's so much fucking fun. Worth dying over, apparently.

So die.

I shot without a warn and didnt move until the bird smashed itself on the ground. And as it's blood drained onto the dirt mine started flowing through my veins like it hadn't for a long time. I felt like myself again, just a moment. When survival meant killing, in a way, every day. To eat, to breathe, regret.

I kill myself everyday for them to live. Watch me care.

And watching me she was. I wasn't sure if I wanted to bother with awknowledgment or explanations. She was kinda nuts on her own way but never spoke out of place. Maybe she would just go back to cabin eleven, twirl her hair for another edgy prick's attention and leave me alone this once.

I hoped.

And I was wrong for doing so.

"Why?" She asked, seating nearby on the floor.

It almost made me laugh. She had a way of sucking with words that made me wonder if maybe it was me who didn't tuned in correctly. Always lacking some fundamental sense. She made me feel like I was going mad. And for cringy it felt to think, just her presence made me wanna punch a wall, a sweet way to say, strangle the voice out of her throat until the lack of air turned off the last of her half-assed idiotic thoughts forever.

"Why what?" I asked prepping for the next blow.

"Why not just use your hands?"

'It doesn't scratch me right' was my first thought. Did it even make sense? Was it even true? It was a weird question to make so I shouldn't worry that much anout a good answer. Still I did, I kept trying to aim as an excuse to not speak yet. And eventually I had no running away. "It would feel inhuman." I admitted, maybe to myself before shooting the nest.

"You aren't one." She said, and when I turned to look at her over my shoulder, she was fixed on the broken eggs like I was a moment ago. I wasn't human she said, and somehow I was many people's favorite.

"I'm at least a half." Was my first clever retort as I tried to not let her words dig too deep in my thoughts.

"So, less than one."

"I'm never 'less than'" And silence.

My night was already spoiled so I went to retrieve the arrows, put it all back on it's place, run away, hide under my sheets and never truly sleep. To wake up tomorrow and held a funeral for the bird on the floor after some camper reaches for me with teary eyes. Bury it deeply with the guilt and shame, wash it from my hands in front of everyone, and be a hero like every other day.

"Can I shoot?" She stopped me.

"I'll rather have someone teach you on daylight" Literally anyone at any point that isn't me and isn't now.

"But if I wait I'll get no chance of it being you will I?" At least she didn't played dumb. I had to sigh either way though. Was she so bad at getting cues. Yes. It won't ever be me If I have a choice, still I smiled, I wasn't a stone.

"Not my grounds, no."

"Then just guide me like they do in romances."

"Why exactly?"

"It'll make me feel alive."

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Relief (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader) Smut

Summary: It's the end of another mission, and you're ready to unwind with your new favourite destresser - casual sex with Soap.

AN: Thanks again to everyone who voted in the poll. I'm tempted to do another for the fics I've got drafted. My third favourite white guy on COD is finally on my blog ayyy.

If you wanna request a fic, check out my guidelines before sending one in! Also, if you wanna be tagged in any future fics, let me know!

Content warnings: Smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fuck-buddies in love trope, Reader is AFAB and gender neutral

Masterlist // AO3 Version

With a sigh, your head tilted back against the door you were pressed into. A half-surprised huff escaped next, since your body hadn’t left an impression in the wood – not unlike how Soap’s fingers were likely etched in bruises on your thighs from where he was holding you. He didn’t normally hold onto you so tightly, so desperately. But you let him anyway.

His nose leant above your shoulder. His chest caught its breath in deep sluggish drags, the glow of his skin pressed to yours whilst you did the same.

“You gonna put me down?” You huffed.

“Maybe. Quite like you like this.”

Of course he did. That’s why you’d barely made it out of briefing and not at all on his bed. Soap adjusted his grip and lifted your legs’ grip a little higher up his waist, which caught you off-guard and a moan slipped out.

You gave him a little taunt: “I know sex is a work-out but that doesn’t mean you can start deadlifting me whilst your cock’s still inside me.”

“Damn,” and Soap lifted his head up to look in your eyes with that laddish smirk and smug stare, “There goes my routine I was planning for tomorrow. Hey-” His brow creased as you attempted to lower one of your legs, his hand squeezing the meat of your thigh, “- I meant it. I like you like this.”

“This isn’t exactly helping the pain,” You said, referring to the mildest of injuries you’d ever gotten on a mission – a massive bruise behind your left shoulder.

Instantly, and with you still in his arms, Soap walked you over to his bed. His open hand cradled your hair as he lowered himself onto the sheets, then flopped back ungracefully. You on the other hand remained sat upright on his cock; your head tilted to the side as you watched Soap fidget against the pillow.

“You alright down there?”

Putting his hands behind his head, Soap winked, “Perfect. The view’s fantastic.”

Those random “clench to the music” videos on TikTok had been preparing you for this moment. You squeezed around his cock and Soap’s self-assured chuckles were stolen away. Tilting your head playfully at him, you watched him grunting beneath you.

Soap’s brows shot up his forehead as he opened up those bashful blue eyes, “Oh, that’s how you wanna play?”

His body beneath you shuffled as he planted his heels besides his buttocks. Your grin remained etched on your face as he thrust up into you. The first time, you could hold in your groans. The second time, your lips were pressed together as you lowered your elbows either side of his head.

“One Earthshattering Soap Special coming up?”

“Fuckin’ minx.”

It was so hard to kiss him properly when he wouldn’t stop making you smile, moan, whisper how good he made you feel. His shameless stare flitted between your face twisted in overstimulation and your hand rubbing at yourself to chase down your next orgasm. Each thrust was bordering on painful, the perfect distraction for your greedy body.

At the moment your orgasm wiped across you, you didn’t have to hold back a scream. All energy left was trained on those laboured breaths snatched between your mouth and Soap’s, both agape and brushing awkwardly as you greedily rutted into one another for more until the waves faded to ripples then to contented hums. His nose slotted to yours as you lifted your chest an inch from him.

“Was it intentional?”

“What’d’you mean?”

“Soap Special. Coming up,” you repeated, your laughter coming out hushed as you grappled with Soap’s shoulders to stay vertical.

“No, can’t be on my a-game with dirty jokes whilst your cunt squeezing the life out of me,” and Soap gripped your hips tighter. “And I can’t have done a good enough job if you can still think properly.”

“I recover fast. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

And you fell over into his chest, flopping your entire weight on him as you copied how he’d squashed you between himself and the door – but at least he had the luxury of it being a mattress on his back this time.

His arms curled protectively around you, keeping you pressed to him whilst he kissed you stupid, quite literally. You sighed dreamily; your hand tangled in his mohawk.

“You need a haircut,” you mumbled into his mouth. “Just a trim. Sides are getting long.”

“Warmin’ up to it, are you?”

“I will say it’s convenient for holding onto.”

Soap snorted, half your body sinking on his chest’s sudden exhale. Your fist squeezed in his hair once more before freeing him and pushing you away from him. When a flash of bliss from your cunt caught you off guard, and a short moan shot out of you, you waited for Soap to tease you about it. But he did no such thing whilst you climbed off his cock. Just looked at you with a close-lipped smile and his hand stroked up and down your bicep.

“Stay,” He hummed as you twisted around and swung your legs off the edge of his bunk.

“I can’t.”

“You can.” It was said with sincerity, not his usual sarcasm.

So you tried to include a sense of warning in your retort, “Soap.” But it just came across as sardonic and you waited for Soap to take advantage of it.

Instead, he sat up and wrapped himself against you. Feigning annoyance, you pushed his rising torso down into the bed.

You tried again, “We do this routine every time. It’s getting boring.”

Soap bounced right back up, “Boring’s not how I’d describe it.” To support his point, you endured listening to his kisses smacking against your skin, sending light-headed chills with each new contact. Soft vibrations from his throat tickled your shoulder’s slope.  

“You’re practically purring,” You said, hiding how uneven your words were in a half-laugh.

“Course. I’m the cat who got the cream.”

“Fucking hell,” You huffed, still smiling as you pulled up your underwear.

Your trousers were halfway up your legs when you pushed him away again but, this time, Soap stayed firm. He didn’t even move an inch under the light pressure of your palm.

“Don’t go. Please, Y/N.”

“First name basis when you’re not inside me? Must be real serious,” you parroted with a half-decent Scottish accent, though you didn’t miss how his begging affected you.

You turned to him now your trousers were done up. Your smile dropped; the “but” lingered on your lips as it saw Soap’s expression. You’d seen this man in pain, furious, over the moon, in bliss. But this was the most open, the most vulnerable, you’d seen him. Wide eyes peered at you in the low-lit room, letting you see directly through into his mind and its unsettled state, framed in that five o’clock shadow that had sprouted on his cheeks during the mission. It aged him. It made him look as weary as he felt.

His final plea of “I don’t wanna be alone, not tonight” uprooted the core of what this whole deal was about: stress relief. Soap still had stress that needed relieving, only it wasn’t with the usual fuck and funnies that you were used to.

You’d turned to him initially because you wanted to not think. Soap was wonderful at distracting; he always unwound you so easily, grounding you with his quips and that gorgeous drawl he spoke in. Perhaps you’d been neglecting him. Or perhaps you were leaning into this arrangement too much. The latter occupied your mind more. Were you getting in too deep?

“I need the toilet,” you whispered. Your eyes dragged up from the quiver that crossed his bottom lip and you finished buckling your belt on the other side of his bedroom door.

You were somewhat certain of why you were treating Soap’s request like a confession of love, because, in a way, it was. Admitting you need help that can only be given by a certain someone, that’s trust beyond the bond forged on the battlefield. And cuddling? Kissing you goodnight? His open expression you caught him wearing before he snuck in a quip? All things that had come before this night that had added up to support your conclusion.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before – leaning into the romantic side you’d already been sharing with each other. In fact, a bystander would probably call out how the only thing missing from your relationship was that very label.

A fear of commitment wasn’t what was preventing you. But the paperwork alone would be a pain in the arse. Then there were the comments other people would make. Although not from Ghost or Gaz, besides some light ribbing. Price probably wouldn’t have much to say either. That risk of getting caught leaving Soap’s room, it hadn’t even crossed your mind as you left him tonight.

You were still silently pondering as you squatted on the toilet, completing your post-hook-up routine. Soap’s forlorn face was one you didn’t think you could recover from with a good night’s sleep. Facing him tomorrow at breakfast, sparring, trusting each other on the job and in the gym, it seemed the longer you left this the worse it would get.

Soap was facing away from the bedroom door for a split second before he sat up to face the sliver of light from the hallway, his body shrouded in your silhouette. He didn’t speak. He just watched as you closed the door, undressed, and returned to his side. There wasn’t a lot of room in the bed, so he turned back on his side and you embraced him around his middle, his soft skin pitted over muscles and under scars.

“I woulda agreed to stay if you removed all your bravado quicker,” you whispered.

“I’ll remember that next time.” And he squeezed your hand in his.

The temptation to joke about his hair again crept in your throat alongside the tickle in your nose that it had caused, but now didn’t feel like the time. You stored it away for next time – there was always a ‘next time’ – and instead, between his shoulder blades, where the muscles folded in a neat crease down his spine, you pressed a kiss.

[fiapartridge]

putting these two together!! - also idk if this contradicts any timeline i’ve made for this au but i’m writing ab it anyway (yeah it kinda messes with the first kiss thing + i think the timeline of when they told each other that they like each other but 🤷🏻‍♀️)

she finally “gives in” at the draft after party

they were at a bar and she was sitting with gabe and the rest of the usntdp boys when she decided to get a drink from the bar (yes, they’re 16-17, but apparently no one cares at these after party things?? LOL drew flashbacks)

“so you hit it yet?” one of the guys that got drafted that day asked, taking daisy’s spot at the table.

will wasn’t even listening. surely he couldn’t be talking to him. but when the guy waved his hand in front of his face, he knew he was.

“hit what?” he knew he meant daisy, but he just couldn’t believe someone would say that about someone, especially daisy. she was just so… daisy. small, happy, innocent, perfect. it made him angry. how could he say that about someone he doesn’t even fucking know?

the guy laughed, taking a swig of his beer. “man, you know what i’m talking about. she a good fuck?”

before he knew it, will was up from his seat, launching at the guy from across the table when gabe and oliver held him back. the sharks wouldn’t be too happy if their star draftee was already in a fight the night he got drafted.

“don’t ever talk about her like that again!” will barks at him as the guys pull him back, trying to get him away from the table.

daisy sprinted over after hearing all the commotion and seeing everyone’s turned heads. will never gets heated. what was he so mad about?

“will?” daisy furrows her brows, watching everyone look at her in response.

the other guy laughs, staring at daisy in a way she felt like there was a sense of crawling under her skin, like he wasn’t just looking at her, but analyzing her. “she is hot, smitty. i call next,” he smirks, looking daisy up and down.

daisy was scared and will felt that. she always fiddled with her bracelets when she was nervous, but she was also so angry. how could someone say that about someone - and he said that as if she wasn’t even there! like she was just a piece of meat that was only there for his enjoyment.

daisy wanted to say something. she wanted to scream and curse at him, yell at him like there was no tomorrow, but she also couldn’t say anything. it felt like the vocal chords were ripped out of her. nothing could come out.

the guys let go of will, letting him slam him against the wall, his forearms pushing against his chest. “if you ever say anything about her again i will fucking kill you.”

with ryan peeling will off of him and gabe dragging the other guy out of the bar, will sprinted over to daisy, pulling her into his arms. she didn’t know she was shaking until it ended.

“im so sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry,” will apologized over and over again

daisy shook her head, her eyes pointing up at him as she held his cheeks in her hands. “there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“im sorry. i ruined the whole night.”

“no, no, no. he did. you did nothing wrong,” she said, her eyes flicking between his and his lips. “i guess you’re right.”

he looks down at her, confused. “about what?”

“that i do like you,” she whispered, pulling him into her and catching his lips into a sweet kiss.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

“yes, other writers who have smaller blogs would love to have more comments on their fics, but they too would feel annoyed if all the comments they were getting were 'Part 2???'”

OMG YES! i love it when people comment on my fics like so so much but a lot of the times there’s at least a few ‘part 2??’ type of comments. (also a lot of the time the asking for a part 2 is the only engagement they give) while im not opposed to the idea of writing a part two, i usually don’t have any ideas for a part two because most of the things i write are meant to be 1 parters and so if i can’t think of anything sometimes ill ask them what they’d like to see in a part 2 or if they want to send in a request for it but they never respond? i hope it doesn’t seem like i want them to basically come up with the idea for me but im just kinda confused on why people ask for a part 2 on something i wrote when it doesn’t seem like they’re really that serious about wanting to see more because it’s happened at least 3 times now.

anyways, i hope your day is going good (and if it isn’t i hope that changes soon :/ <3) and that those delusional obsessive weirdos learn to fuck off and stop making shit up

okay, idk if people have noticed this, but I have started putting disclaimers on my fics. I have literally had to put disclaimers at the end of my fics saying 'this is meant to be a oneshot, so please to not comment asking for a part 2' - and comments on my oneshots have gone down so much since I started doing this. I have gotten way less comments on my oneshots because of this. (because people don't want to talk about the actual fic, they just want to ask for more.)

because I couldn't handle the mental strain of getting a notification of a comment, getting excited about it, and then opening that comment to see 'part 2?' or 'omg you need to continue this' - when the ending was very purposeful and it was a oneshot for a reason. especially smut. like just because I don't include both partners having an orgasm and pillow talk, people demand that it's incomplete. people saying 'when are you gonna finish this fic' kills me. it is finished. (kill me, please. you need to kill me.)

and like sometimes I never think that I would ever write a second part to a fic, but positive comments encourage it. my Gleggie fic Hold Me Tight Or Don't - a fic where the main character fucking dies - is a very open and shut case for a fic without a sequel. because the main character IS DEAD. but someone in the comments made a joke about being in their 'Ellie Williams era' because they wanted to mentally deny the sad ending, and it sparked a whole idea for me where the reader character is immune and lives instead. and that fic is currently in my drafts and I am excited about finishing it in the future.

that is the power that engaging comments can have - it can spawn a whole new fic from a place where there was a dead end plot with absolutely 0 potential

but yeah, thank you for this message. I hope you're having a good day - my day is mid level, and I hope to have a better day tomorrow.

and for reference, to all fic readers/commenters out there - if you really like a fic and you are really excited about the idea of a possible sequel to it, here is how you go about asking for it:

go to the writer's ask box or their DMs - open up a line of communication that is separate from the comment section of that fic

tell them that you really loved that fic, and tell them a reason why - the writer will want to know that you are supporting their work, and that you're not just asking for more fanfiction because you're bored

politely ask if they would consider writing a sequel or a continuation to that work

and maybe, in the same message, pose some possible ideas or concepts for that follow up

so, something like "hey, I really loved Hold Me Tight Or Don't. I love the way you contrast the themes of sex and death. but I couldn't help but to wonder what would happen if the reader was immune and survived. would you ever consider writing a follow up or a sequel to it? if not, that's okay."

(fyi, even on works where I have said I do not want to make a sequel, I am open to these ^^ kind of messages if you are particularly interested in one of my works having a possible sequel. the circumstances for each of my works having a sequel is different in every case)

[timebegins-onopeningday]

October 2023 New Works Round Up

Happy Sunday, everybody! It’s our inaugural new works round-up post, a mere two days after the soft deadline. Let’s do a round up of all the works posted to the collection so far* 🥳

*by Saturday night, when I drafted and scheduled this post.

AO3 | All works | Ask box

New works, in no particular order (link in titles):

spit it out on three by pamlipsestic | Oakland A’s, San Francisco Giants | Zack Gelof/Casey Schmitt

It was in the scouting report, and even if it hadn’t been, the neon yellow custom sliding mitt would've given it right away.

FIX ME A BLUE SKY by hualuo (baiyunli) | Philadelphia Phillies | Bryson Stott/Trea Turner

“Right,” says Trea, feeling like he missed several steps. You’re gonna be good,” promises Stott. “You’re Trea fucking Turner.” He squeezes Trea’s shoulder again, tips the bill of his cap down like he’s letting him in on a secret. His eyes brim with it, crescent moons shot through in hazel. “And call me Bryson, okay?” Trea Turner, on things (and people) he can't control.

our bodies to bargain by sorrellegiance | San Francisco Giants | Sean Manaea & Blake Sabol | neocities 

This is a comic about places and going to them!

step by step by glowfruit | New York Yankees | Aaron Judge/Anthony Rizzo

Aaron's simple request for Anthony to teach him how to cook is not as simple as he might think.

what you want, what you got by powderblu (bluspirits) | Philadelphia Phillies | Brandon Marsh/ Bryson Stott

So yeah, Bryson is a gift giver. That's about the only explanation he can come up with for what's in front of him. Or: courting rituals, daycare edition

we all end in the ocean by Anonymous | New York Mets | Francisco Alvarez/Brett Baty

“Why don’t you come over here for a second,” Eduardo frowned, cringing as he approached Brett. The injury must have horribly deformed him, or something. I’m fine, you don’t need to carry me, he’d wanted to complain, but it was like Brett weighed nothing at all, and no matter how much he kicked and squirmed, Eduardo didn’t falter, carrying him over to the sink. What the fuck? In the mirror, staring back at him, was an orange cat. Eduardo raised Brett’s arm and waved. The cat waved back. Brett let out an ear-splitting scream and the cat in the mirror screamed back, fur puffed up all over. animal transformation au: baseball magic is real and the rays are petty

Unbuttoned by powerblu (bluspirits) | Philadelphia Phillies | Bryce Harper/Trea Turner

Bryce had always told him he'd look good in a Phillies jersey. Now that Trea's on the team, it's time to prove he meant it.

all play no skips by powerblu (bluspirits) | Philadelphia Phillies | Garrett Stubbs/J.T. Realmuto

Some people would refer to what he has going on right now as 'intangibles'.

If I’m not my body by planesandtrainingwheels | Toronto Blue Jays | Danny Jansen/Jordan Romano

He catches sight of the beginnings of a bruise that promises to be ugly tomorrow morning stretching across Danny’s thigh. “You’re insane,” he says appreciatively. Something in him itches to put his hands on it, to brush across the tender purple skin with his fingers - which isn’t a thought he’s ever had before. Oh boy. Danny grins. “Anything for you, Romy.” Or, Jordan Romano, Danny Jansen, and the mortifying ordeal.

The next round-up post will be posted sometime on Sunday, November 12, so if you need a new deadline, aim for the North American morning of November 11.

Under the cut: October Challenges for readers and creators + 3 questions for creators (for your WIPs or completed works) and a bonus side quest for readers!

October Challenge for readers: Before the November post, comment on THREE works you haven’t commented on yet! If you’ve commented on them all already….king shit, because it’s been two days. Go get a boba to celebrate and watch some postseason baseball.

Bonus Readers Side Quest: If the creator of the work allows it, create a moodboard for one of the works you enjoyed and post it on Tumblr. Tag @timebegins-onopeningday so that I can reblog and of course make sure you link to the work and tell the author too!

October Challenge for creators: Every week until the November post (on the 12th), do the following:

Writers, add FIVE sentences to your work.

Artists, spend FIFTEEN MINUTES on your work. 

Podfic? Five minutes of editing or ten minutes of recording. Something else I’m not thinking of? Adjust accordingly to your medium.

Creator Questions: Answer in the notes, send an ask, or just post on your blog and tag @timebegins-onopeningday!

Which player in the work inspired you to put them in the boba shaker of baseball rpf and why?

What is one thing you want everyone to know about your work that didn’t (or won’t) make it into the final work?

Without spoiling anything, what part of your work are you most excited for people to experience?

That’s it for this month! I hope you all enjoy the works that have been posted - I’m still making my way through them, but I’m loving what I’ve read so far. Remember to leave comments if you read, and to treat yourself kindly as you create.

As always, ask box is open and anon is on. I can also be reached at rpfisfine@/gmail.com 🌞

[pixl4ted]

IM PROBABLY NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO DECIDED TSPUD AND GENLOSS WOULD BE NICE TOGETHER mostly becuase god i love adding two of my hypfixes together its the best thing everas you saw with the akito parable doodle (why is that getting so much ATTENTION IT WAS A 1 HR DOODLE PLEASE) BUT HERE IS MY THOUGHT PROCESS SO FAR. its 3am i didnt think TOO much into it but like.. likeeee......... this si what i have down. things are most definitely subject to change dont interpret this as a promise

im not sure if there are other genloss x tspud aus out there if so i am happy to credit for having the og idea and if possible talk about the ideas of how showfall parable lore would work becuase GOD my creativity has limits. it has limits guys

[ keep reading for a spiral of me rambling on abt this + initial doodles! ]

im dragging the whole bucket lore bit into this. i also want to note charles is there for narrator’s ep2/ep3 name because i realized it would be perfect for the whole thing of charlie being credited as slimecicle/patient charlie/charlie, but that meant he needed an actual name instead of narrator, resulting in narrator/(???) charles/charles. and i chose a name ive heard a few times be used for them i didnt want to put my whole life savings worth of thought energy at this late into it

next up i acutally had no fucking idea what hetch/founder/puzzler was going to be and i ended up on those. puzzler goes to curator becuase, although museum ending did imply that curator is on a higher power compared to narrator, her being the founder and narrator being part of the cast is kindof a huge shift imo??? i think the contrast of curator being puzzler and narrator being cast does show the whole power deal but not a HUGE amount

i dont really have a good ramble explanation for hetch being gambhorra’ta and i dont feel like playing the bucket endings right now i will tomorrow though, this is just thinking.. i did think of gambhorra’ta being puzzler becuase yk. frank being bucket. it would be funny guys please i watched the same comedy video as narrator i know my shit !!!

the boss being the founder just makes things easier for me becuase i wont have to draw that for a litlte seeing as the founder never popped up in the main 3 episodes hashtag work smarter not harder

VINNY HAVING FERN WAS KINDOF A JOKE BUT I AM WILLING TO DESIGN A HUMAN CHARACTER FOR FERN IF NEEDED I WAS RUNNING OUT OF OPTIONS

overall this is a very rough draft people can and probably will be switched around for different roles the more i think into this, i have ideas for lore aswell but this is getting suuuper long. here are some very quick doodles i made on whiteboard when i first had the thought!! 

[adzeisval]

Unconventional Weapon

Ed's genius starts showing. Also on AO3.

Ed knew very well that Captain Hornigold didn’t give a shit about when someone’s birthday was so he concluded that he wasn’t being called to the cabin to be wished a happy eighteenth birthday. He ran the past few days through his mind and tried to figure out if he had done something wrong. 

Of course sometimes Hornigold was just in a fucking mood and wanted to kick a dog and choose whichever crewmate was closest. Ed had been smacked, punched, pushed and kicked just because he was the closest one around and it was like that for all the others too. 

Still being called to the Cabin was a big deal and meant that something was up. 

“Good luck in there, been nice knowing you,” Jack called after him. Ed flipped him off as he entered the cabin. 

“Sit the fuck down Teach,” Hornigold said and Ed did just that waiting for the Captain to speak. 

Hall came in and tossed a piece of parchment down on the desk in front of him. 

“Can you read that Teach?” 

“Yes sir, ‘English Navy cracks down on rum runners’” 

“Those greedy bastards want all the money they can get,” Hornigold said and started to pace a little, which Ed knew was a very dangerous situation. 

“A schooner with no Captain, a raid planned for later this day, I can’t be everywhere at once, and I would have thought I had been clear about my expectations.” 

Ed was debating if he should say something when the door opened and a pale looking man was brought in. 

“Captain Hornigold sir, I’m so…” 

The pistol firing made Ed jump and he watched as the former Schooner Captain, presumably, crumpled to the deck missing half his head. Or well it wasn’t exactly missing it was just in small bits all over the cabin. 

“Really thought he had some potential,” Hornigold said then turned to Ed, “That rum needs to get to St. Lucia by tomorrow night, think you’re up to it Mutt?” 

“Yes Captain,” Ed said though he wasn’t really sure he could do it, and do it in that timeframe. 

“Good, that crew’s all yours, take Hands or Rackham with you, drop that rum off and catch back up to us. Don’t fuck this up,” Hornigold said and looked at the mess on the floor that used to be a man. 

“Yes Captain,” Ed said and got up and out of the gory cabin as fast as he could without slipping on blood or brains. 

What a way to start his birthday. 

“Izzy! Over here mate,” Ed called out and Izzy scrambled down from the ropes. 

“In trouble again Eddie?” 

“Not yet, we’ve got a job to do, I’m guessing you saw that schooner pull up.” 

“I did.” 

“Well we’re off to deliver rum in it and I just saw Hornigold blow the brains out of the man who failed before,” Ed said. 

“Fuck.” 

“Yep, let’s go.”

Ed got the schooner away as quickly as he could. The small crew of five seemed a bit nervous and unsure but followed his orders. Ed might look young and all but it was a direct order from Hornigold so they didn’t make a fuss. 

The wind and sea were with them so he thought they could make the drop in plenty of time and head back to Hornigold in enough time to not get killed. 

All seemed to be going well until they got close to the island and saw two very large British Navy ships sitting right in their way. 

“Well fuck,” Izzy said, “I don’t think we can get around them. In fact…fuck yep they’ve seen us.” 

“Are both coming?” 

“I think we’re fucked enough with one,” Izzy said, “But yes.” 

Ed stared at the ships coming toward them and knew they would be quickly slaughtered once caught. They could outrun them for a bit but if they wanted to make the delivery they couldn’t play chase forever. 

Ed almost, almost asked Izzy what date it was before he remembered that it was his birthday and had to stifle a laugh at his own brain. August sixteenth then. Low tide. Sun in a good spot. The schooler had a smaller draft. They couldn’t win any fight with any sort of conventional weapon. 

“Right you dogs listen up, we’re staying put for a few more minutes, but be ready to move. We’re headed hard to port and headed into the sun as fast as we can!” 

There were some nods and a couple of ayes and they got the ship ready. 

“Ed I’m assuming this has something to do with sandbars,” Izzy said. 

“We’ll get one of them to run aground at least,” Ed said. 

Ed waited until the last possible moment, he needed the Navy to think they had him, needed them to be in to the chase and so sure of their victory that they fucked up and fucked up bad. 

It would also help if they had bad aim, staying out of cannon range was going to be the trick. 

There were warning shots first and Ed ignored them and pressed on. The sun was shining in his eyes, making it hard to see where the waves were breaking on the sandbar. He had to get close, really, really close. 

Ed could see that Izzy was getting nervous beside him at the wheel but he wasn’t trying to undermine Ed’s order and plan. 

Ed felt like he could feel the sand beneath the schooner, could feel how close they were getting. He felt like his mind was taking in so many things and that he was going to know the exact moment. 

When the moment came he didn’t even warn the crew and turned the wheel hard to port yelling the order a split second later. Ed thought he could all but feel the sand just under the belly of the schooner. 

The schooner stabilized then the air was filled with the sound of a ship being run aground and splintering.

The schooner caught the wind and all but flew toward the island. Ed waited just a little before he turned to see if the other ship was following. He heard the boom of a cannon and then the schooner was hit and wood from the railing went flying and…

“Fuck,” Ed fell to his knees pain radiating outward from where he’d been hit in the side.

“Keep on to the island! We still have a deadline!” Izzy yelled out then was kneeling beside him. 

Ed didn’t want to look at the wound, didn’t want to look at what was sticking in him but it felt bad, “Izzy?” 

“Keep still and calm Eddie,” Izzy said. 

“Am I dying Iz?” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake Ed, you’ve got a splinter in your side,” Izzy said then Ed cried out as Izzy pulled the piece of wood from his side. 

“That’s not a fucking splinter Iz! I’m bleeding all over the place.” 

Izzy huffed and wrapped a piece of cloth around the wound. Ed felt a little dizzy but maybe he was just overreacting a little bit. After a few minutes Izzy held out his hand and Ed took it and stood. 

“You’re alright Eddie,” Izzy said. 

“Thanks Iz,” Ed said. He turned to look at the ships, the one that had run aground on the sandbar had tipped on its side and was slipping into the water, the other ship trying to stay out of harms way while rescuing people from the first ship. 

Good. 

They made it to St Lucia, dropped the rum, got the cash and sped back to Captain Hornigold who was waiting for them and looked at the schooner. 

“Got a bit banged up,” he said. 

“Sorry Captain, ran into two Navy ships.” 

“Two?” 

Ed nodded, “Yes sir, caused one to run aground and the other stayed to help. A cannonball managed to hit us as we left.” 

“Hmm. Not bad, extra rations for you and Hands tonight,” Hornigold said. 

“Thank you Captain,” he and Izzy said at the same time. 

It was a good ending to the day and Ed felt pleased. He’d hoped to maybe Captain the schooner but it was probably a test to see if he would bring it up or think he deserved it and at the moment he just wanted to sleep. 

“You can have the bunk, since you’re so grievously injured,” Izzy smirked. 

“Fuck off Izzy,” Ed laughed.

[hislittleraincloud]

Miller's Girl swirled w/Status of Chapter 8

So You Know What officially releases tomorrow in its...limited release, and I just gotta say... it's a movie about a seriously horny 17 (in the script she's 17) year old brilliant 'I'm not like other girls' girl who reads classic erotica and wants to fuck her pruney old white guy English teacher. I won't spoil the end... It's just like The Crush, with less superficial pouty lip and more classic literature, unless they changed/softened it for the final film (I didn't pay attention to what draft I was reading).

That's also my story, here. I started writing this shit before I knew of Miller's Girl. The tropes MG and Satisfying Afterburn share are numerous and almost complete, right down to the mini-flashback of Wednesday attempting to seduce her Honors English professor, Professor Fortunato. It's a common (or WAS a common, I should say) trope, the Precocious Girl. And as much as current climate sexuality activists would like to deny it, precocious girls exist, and I was one of them.

I did mention in my bio that some of what I write about is autobiographical, and that I was an extremely precocious child back in the 80s and 90s. Like Afterburn Wednesday, I was left to my devices in my father's library. Henry Miller (the author Cairo likes) was one of the authors that I was reading in not-so-secret when I was around 10, since my own father had a collection of erotica (novels and art). I suppose the perversion is generational. 🫠💦✨ He was not my favorite author at 10 (at 10 it was Dalton Trumbo...I fell in love with Johnny Got His Gun, and Night of the Aurochs was pretty good too...sucks when someone dies before finishing their work), but at 11 I became a Nabokov fan and at 12, Orwell and Highsmith (Patricia Highsmith was a fkn cunt/racist/anti-Semite, but I loved Tom Ripley); I wasn't as moved by Miller's Tropics (however, I was and am an Anaïs Nin fan, and her whole Henry and June/Henry & June thing was just 🔥). Some time before 12 I read the erotic books that I mentioned in the beginning of my story (My Secret Life and Fanny Hill; I bought them at a book fair, and yes, they let me buy them). I digress, but it's relevant to my fiction.

The erotica Cairo reads and writes is designed to do what it does in the movie, just as all erotica is meant to do. Afterburn is erotica too (and all y'all writing E [for sex] are erotica writers).

I don't want

another

fucking

Greyface anon

coming at me

about

Satisfying Afterburn

after this...

y'all can go fuck yourselves.

Also, Afterburn has all of the Miller's Girl tropes, except that 'Miller's Girl' (who is ✨cleverly✨ Professor Miller's Girl and Henry Miller's girl hyuk hyuk get it) doesn't get her man. Afterburn Wednesday does, and that's why y'all Greyfaces hate on me. She gets her man, just as I got my man at that age.

And speaking of 8 and rain (I hate this app, I fkd up this post and put it in my queue instead of saving the draft I was working on)...

I wrote most of this starting late last March 2023 through late April before I started to move sections into chapters. This part here was written at the end of April, but I transferred it into a different document on May 2.

Romantic/sexy rain trope is in 8. Couldn't help it, since Burton chose to make it rain whenever he wanted to...why the fuck can't I. Anyway, a very short fkn snippet from 8.2:

It tells you nothing except that's raining hard. And yeah, it's Wenovan speaking.

Anyhow...off to create...and probably watch this fkn movie tonight (I have my ways).

ugh

[somelazyassartist]

I am having a very strange relationship with mental health currently and I need to talk about it or I feel like I'll explode!!! This is not all actually bad it's just like what is happening!!!!! Under cut bc I am just kinda rambling and don't know what I'm saying really and I'll probably delete this bc I will probably feel extremely weird about talking about it by the time I wake up tomorrow but!! Like j said I just feel like if I don't say anything I'm gonna explode!!!!!!

Like bad stuff out of the way first I guess there's like. Really traumatic realization about My ex-relationship where it's like. OH I was a literal child so I had no idea that was abusive but that was Really Fucking Abusive and I don't know how to deal with that?? I haven't even talked to that person in years and I'm in a much healthier and happier relationship now but like it is kinda fucking me up simply because I have no idea how I'm supposed to handle trauma that I didn't even know was trauma until after I'm far out of that situation. Also been having WAY more paranoia and weirdly vivid nightmares lately but I honestly have zero idea if those are related or not.

HOWEVER like literally don't worry about that at all ever BECAUSE despite those way lower lows than I usually have I have ALSO been having way higher highs in my mental health!!!!! And I don't know why!!!!! I knew moving would help with my depression a lot simply bc I'd be out of my shitty school and shitty cold garage bedroom and away from my shitty stepdad and away from the city (I do not handle loud and crowded and busy environments well) and now I live out in the middle of nowhere where it's quiet and I love it! But like for the last 4 years I've lived here I still felt like my depression had dulled like ALL my care about things down even if the depression itself kinda faded away. Like I got to the point where I wasn't crying myself to sleep every night, but I would read maybe 3 of my already-liked books a year and ignore my entire shelf of unread stuff, I had my favorite wizard outfit I'd wear on special occasions but every other day I'd just wear pajamas or a T-shirt and jeans because I couldn't be assed to do anything more, I'd have entire boxes of half-finished sketches because I would start drawing and lose interest halfway through the sketch, I have bins of art and decorations that I meant to put on my walls years ago and never did. But now!! Just in like the past few weeks specifically!!! I don't know why but I have had so much drive to DO THINGS!!!!! I WANT TO DO THINGS AGAIN!!!!! I've been reading!! Like, actually reading actual novels!!! Like I did when I was little where I was obsessed with making sure every book on my shelf got read at least once!!!!! I've been going through my closet and my accessory bins and makeup and pairing up what looks good!! I've actually been coordinating outfits and trying to make all my clothes have as much personality and fun as my one (1) special wizard outfit I wear!!! I had a bit of extra cash bc of holiday cards and I bought myself some armor despite knowing what it takes to maintain it and keep it nice because I actually have the motivation to upkeep it and find what clothes I have that will look good with a chestplate and pauldrons!!! (It also looks EXACTLY I mean EXACTLY like Laios Dunmeshi's armor so bonus autism win there)!!!!! I dug out my boxes of unfinished art and have been trying to finish old pieces!! I found my old half-filled notebooks and have been filling the blank pages that were leftover!!!!! I've been working on zines, I've been WRITING again (I fucking LOVED writing when I was a kid but grew to hate it eventually), I have multiple rough drafts for graphic novels and animations and in-universe 1st person perspective fantasy research journals!!!! I've been putting up art prints that've sat in boxes for years!!! I've been looking for where a shelf would go nicely to display my trinkets and nick knacks!!! I've been looking into 3D printing lightswitch covers with cool designs and figuring out what to paint on my bookshelves!!!!!!! I'm honestly extremely nervous and scared that this is temporary, and that soon I'm going to fade back into not caring about these things, and that if it goes away again it won't come back like what's happening now - but I am trying my best to keep caring and keep Loving life the way I haven't in years!!! And that is all anybody can do I think!!!!!!!

[doonarose]

Urggg. I have massive things to catch up on at work this week. I managed to get on top of all my teaching prep (I think) over the weekend. This mostly meant a lot of arduous editing of the online stuff for the incoming students because it isn't enough for me to say 'this test will be in week three', I need to put the exact date and time and then make sure that's written in about ten different places, and so every year I have to spend ages updating it all. They've also rooted my schedule so I've had to shuffle some pracs and some workshops which, again, I can't just make a note that prac 1 will run third and we will start with prac 2 and 3, have to go in and edit everything.

ANYWAY. I'm chairing a big online thing tomorrow so I really need to get the draft of the deeply, wildly overdue grant application done today because the grants team would be well within their rights to tell me to fuck off...

But I entirely want to just drown in BAFTA stuff and long fic... this was always the risk of me managing to give up on my big career aspirations PLUS the fact that no one is really paying much attention to me.

Weeeeeeee!