#he stared at first for like 22 seconds straight or something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angelsuecult · 23 days ago

Text

gold dust woman | s. crosby

“and is it over now, do you know how?

pick up the pieces and go home”

warnings: sexual content, implied (f) masturbation, thigh-riding, MDNI, 18+, nsfw, strong language, controversial? age gap, father’s friend, infidelity

summary: Sid has a nice encounter with a daughter (22) who’s existence he hadn’t know about, your father, a childhood friend who hes only just reconnected with.

request description: age gap sid, immediate strong tension, meeting sidney for the first time.

wordcount: 6.9k

song: gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

a/n: hi guys i hope you enjoy this request i tried to do it justice so if u requested it, don't hesitate to let me know how i did. anyways i really enjoyed writing this one so i hope you guys enjoy reading it too. i'm currently planning on releasing two more soon maybe tonight maybe tomorrow so i hope you guys will like those too! okay, enjoy reading!

___

Sidney hadn’t seen your dad in what felt like forever, one of those people he’d lost touch with as life and hockey pulled him in different directions. So, when the invite came through for a summer get-together, it felt like the perfect opportunity to reconnect. He’d been looking forward to catching up with some old friends, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what greeted him when the door swung open.

He wasn’t sure who he expected to open the door, but it definitely wasn’t you.

The moment you opened the door, he was caught off guard. He’d expected someone, but not you. Not someone who looked like that-who carried that kind of presence, the kind that immediately knocked the air out of him.

Standing there, framed by the soft summer sunlight, you looked like you didn’t belong to this world. He took you in all at once, a tidal wave of feeling that knocked the air out of his chest. You were–Jesus, you were stunning. Maybe it was your pretty face, the soft curve of your lips, or the way your half-lidded eyes lazily flicked up to meet his with the kind of confidence that left him instantly, completely whipped. His gaze trailed down, unable to stop itself from following the smooth lines of your body, your legs impossibly long in those fitted jeans that hugged you just right as if they'd been made specifically for you, and that small t-shirt that barely covered the soft lines of your waist. But what did him in, what completely took over his brain for a solid few seconds, were your hands. They rested at your sides, fingers delicate and perfect, the kind of hands that could bring a man to his knees if you wanted. His mind ran wild thinking about what they'd feel like against his skin before he could even stop himself. He tried not to stare, tried to keep it casual. But the way your lips curled slightly as you took him in made his heart skip a beat or two.

It was like you had walked straight out of a dream he didn't know he had.

The moment stretched between you both, thick and charged, until you spoke first, your voice low and teasing, like you knew exactly what he was thinking. It took everything in Sidney not to close the distance between you.

“Hey, you must be Sidney,” you said, stepping back to let him in, your gaze never leaving his. There was something in the way you looked at him, something that had his pulse jumping in his throat. It was too much. Too soon. He hardly knew you, yet he wanted you in a way that felt raw, primal. But he forced himself to keep his cool, to not let it show just how much you were already affecting him.

Your voice. God, it did something to him–a soft, smoky tone that hit his ears like honey. Sidney cleared his throat, feeling suddenly out of his element.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied, his voice somehow steady, though his heart was anything but. He walked inside, giving you a smile that he hoped looked casual, but when his eyes met yours again, it was anything but. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the way his gaze roamed over you again, slower this time, dragging over every inch of your body. “Guess your dad hasn’t told me much about you,” he said, a lazy attempt at teasing, but it felt stiff.

You closed the door behind him, turning smoothly, effortlessly, like you were made for it, made for moving in a way that left him unable to focus on anything but you. Sidney had never been so thrown off his game so quickly. You weren’t just beautiful; you were dangerous. The kind of girl who could walk into any room and leave it spinning in her wake.

Your eyes scanned him slowly, taking your time before answering, “I’m full of surprises.” You led him into the house, your walk slow and confident, hips swaying slightly in a way that felt entirely too intentional. Sid clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes forward, pretending he wasn't completely aware of every single move you made. “My dad’s in the backyard. He’ll be in soon.”

Sidney nodded, his brain still catching up to the fact that you were his old friend’s daughter. That this wasn’t some random woman he could flirt with without consequences. Your dad was a good guy, and Sidney respected him, but damn, it was hard to keep that in mind when you were looking at him like you were right now—like you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse loud in his ears. He could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, the heat pooling low in his stomach, and for a split second, he wondered if you could feel it too–this magnetic pull between you. Could you feel the tensions between you two? Because it was damn near suffocating him. The way you looked at him, like you were daring him to make a move, was driving him crazy. He didn't know if it was your face, your lips, or the way your body seemed to make him drive him wild. Probably all of it. But he needed to keep his cool, needed to act like this wasn't affecting him, like he wasn't already thinking about what it would be like to have your legs wrapped around him. He couldn’t let himself go there, not with you. Not with the daughter of an old friend.

Before Sidney could say anything more, your dad’s voice called from the backyard, breaking the spell. Your dad stepped into the room through the sliding door. But you didn't miss the way Sidney’s eyes flickered toward you, the briefest moment of hunger before his expression shifted to something more casual. It was subtle, but the heat between you two was undeniable.

He shook your dad’s hand as if the world hadn’t shifted the second you opened the door. The man clapped him on the shoulder, grinning ear to ear, before excusing himself to the bathroom. “Be right back, Sid–make yourself at home.”

And suddenly it was just the two of you again, the tension simmering between you like an unspoken agreement that neither of you acknowledged outright.

You stood there, leaning slightly against the counter, your eyes flicking to him again. He could feel your gaze tracking him as he took a few steps deeper into the house, pretending to admire the space. But truthfully, he was trying to ground himself, trying to avoid looking directly at you because every glance sent his mind spinning. The way you looked at him wasn't like the usual attention he got, the way people looked at Sidney Crosby. No, this was different. This felt like you saw right through him. And fuck if it didnt make him want you more.

You haven't said much, but everything in your body language screams control–like you knew exactly what you were doing, exactly how to play this game. And Sidney, despite years of keeping his cool under pressure, was starting to feel like he was on the losing end.

He shifted his weight, trying to focus on something else–anything else–but his eyes kept drifting back to you. He couldn't help it. There was something about you that was utterly unattainable, like everyone else wanted you too, but you were just out of reach, untouchable.

And he wanted you.

Fuck, he wanted you.

But he wasn’t the kind of guy to act on impulse, especially not when it was someone as connected to his past as you were. He had to keep it together. Play it cool. You were young, probably just out of college, while he was–well, definitely not in his twenties anymore. But that didn't stop the way his heart kicked up a notch every time you moved or how his body reacted everytime your gaze lingered on him for just a second too long.

Before either of you could say anything else, your dad returned, oblivious to the tension simmering in the room. You straightened up, the teasing glint in your eye softening just a bit, but Sideny felt it, the crackling energy. You flashed at last glance at him, something playful and almost wicked, before you excused yourself to your room.

As you walked away, Sidney found himself watching the sway of your hips, the way your jeans hugged your endless legs, and just as you disappeared down the hallway, you looked back at him. He knew it wasn’t an accident. That look over your shoulder was deliberate, calculated, and he couldn’t help himself.

Sidney caught himself glancing back at you not once, but twice as you disappeared down the hallway, feeling like an idiot for doing it, but unable to stop himself. The second time, though, he was sure you’d noticed. He couldn’t help himself, he had to look, just to be sure he hadn't imagined it. That tiny smirk was there again, teasing, knowing. You didn’t say anything; you didn’t have to. You already had him hooked.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the way his body reacted to you. He needed to pull himself together. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, an experienced one at that, but he felt like a kid with a schoolboy crush. All from one glance. One smirk. One little flicker of something between you. He was here to catch up with your dad, not this. Not whatever this was. But the way you moved, the way you looked at him, it was impossible not to want more.

Goddamn, he thought. He was in trouble. He knew that for sure now.

He felt like he'd been thrown into a game he didn't know the rules to, but he wasn't about to shy away. Not when the stakes were this high.

Sidney’s heart pounded in his chest as he turned his attention back to your dad, who was rambling about the backyard, the old crew, and how it’d be like old times again.

But it wasn’t like old times. Not anymore. Not with you there.

“Let's head out back,” your dad said, breaking Sidney’s thoughts. But as they walked through the house and into the backyard, his mind stayed on you, replaying every glance, every tiny shit of your body, wondering what might make him do next.

And somehow, he had a feeling that this was just the beginning.

The backyard was lively, filled with people Sidney hadn’t seen in years, friends of your father, most of whom he recognized from his childhood. Conversations blended into a background hum of laughter, catching up, and the occasional clinking of glasses, but Sidney’s attention was somewhere else entirely.

It was on you.

No matter where he stood, who he talked to, his eyes were constantly searching for you—across the yard, near the fire pit, sitting at one of the tables. And every time he found you, he swore you were looking right back at him. It wasn’t just the occasional glance either. It was a magnetism, a pull, one he couldn’t escape. Whenever you locked eyes, the rest of the world seemed to disappear, like you were the only two people in the crowd.

He tried to focus on conversations, genuinely wanting to reconnect with some of the old friends milling around, but it was impossible to get through more than a sentence or two without wondering where you were. And when you weren’t nearby, he found himself scanning the yard, hoping to catch another glimpse of those half-lidded eyes watching him.

And every single time, you didn’t disappoint.

The tension between you was palpable. When you were close, it was unbearable. And when you were across the yard, it lingered in the space between you, thick like the summer heat. Everyone else was completely oblivious, laughing and chatting like nothing was amiss, like they didn’t feel that electric charge in the air.

Even your dumbass boyfriend didn’t notice. Sidney hadn’t seen you get within arm’s length of the guy all night. Not that he was complaining. Actually, it made him feel a little smug. The way you barely acknowledged him, how you avoided his touch, how you actually looked annoyed every time he tried to get close—Sidney noticed every bit of it.

In fact, your disinterest in your boyfriend became the clearest when everyone had gathered around, embracing him like some long-lost hero. Sidney could feel the weight of your gaze from the edge of the group, the way you hung back while everyone else threw their arms around him, exchanged jokes, and reminisced. You stayed away, distant, cool, those pretty eyes of yours watching him with an intensity that made his stomach tighten.

It wasn’t lost on him either how much you tilted your head when you watched him, like you were studying him, trying to figure out what made him tick. It drove him crazy. He wanted to know if you were thinking the same thing he was. Did you want him like he wanted you? Was your pulse racing every time your eyes met his, or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

He wanted so badly to know what was going through your head.

And then there were the moments when you got close—too close.

Whenever you passed him, whether it was reaching for a drink or moving around the yard, your hand would graze his ever so slightly. Just enough to send a jolt of heat straight through him. He wondered if you knew what you were doing or if it was just coincidence, but after the third or fourth time, he had a feeling it was no accident.

At one point, you brushed by him to grab something off the picnic table, your fingers trailing just barely against his arm. Sidney’s breath caught, and he could feel his skin tingle where you touched him, like a burn that wouldn’t go away. His eyes flicked to yours, and for a split second, the world stopped again. The air between you crackled, heavy and charged. Your lips curved into the smallest smirk, and Sidney had to force himself to tear his gaze away before he did something reckless, like reach out and grab your wrist just to see if that same spark would shoot up his arm.

He shifted his weight, trying to keep himself grounded. His head was spinning, but he couldn’t let it show. Not here, not now. He had to play it cool, even though all he could think about was the way you looked at him with those pretty eyes, your lips slightly parted, as if waiting for him to make the first move. He imagined what it would be like to close the gap, to feel your mouth on his, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the taste of you on his tongue.

But every time the thought crossed his mind, your boyfriend would appear—clueless and completely unaware. The guy didn’t even seem to realize that you were avoiding him, that you were never affectionate, never close. And honestly, Sidney couldn’t help but feel a little smug about it. It wasn’t his fault the guy didn’t notice how your attention was elsewhere.

Sidney’s eyes followed you again as you moved across the yard, your hand brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your fingers grazing the side of your neck. His mouth went dry. He tried to focus on the conversation happening around him, but he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering, from picturing you pressed up against him, your breath warm on his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair.

He needed to get a grip.

Your dad called out to him from across the yard, pulling him back into the moment. Sidney plastered on a smile, lifting his beer in acknowledgment, but his thoughts were still tangled up in you, still replaying every look, every touch.

As the evening wore on, the tension between you only seemed to build. Even though you weren’t constantly in the same group, there was an undeniable pull that kept dragging his attention back to you. Every time he caught you glancing at him from across the yard, every time your hand brushed against him, it felt like another layer of control peeled away.

By the time the sun started to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and gold, Sidney was practically buzzing with need. He was worked up, his mind racing with thoughts he shouldn’t be having, thoughts that would get him into trouble.

But all he could think about was you—about the way your body would feel pressed up against his, the way your lips would taste, the way you’d sigh his name if he touched you the way he wanted to.

It took everything in him not to cross the yard and find a way to get you alone. And from the way you kept glancing at him, he had a feeling you wouldn’t exactly mind if he did.

The night hadn’t ended as he hoped. Sidney's fingers tapped absentmindedly against the steering wheel as he sat in his car, parked in front of your house. His mind was running in circles, replaying every moment of the evening in agonizing detail—the way your eyes lingered on him, the brush of your hand against his arm, the subtle smirk that curved your lips whenever you caught him looking at you.

You were impossible to forget.

The way you had smiled so sweetly, just for him, your fingers brushing against his arm as you whispered, “Goodnight, Sidney,” made his pulse race. But then you had dragged your boyfriend—whom it was so clear you hated—into the house. That should have been his cue to go. It was. He’d told himself there was no point in sticking around when everything was so painfully out of reach.

And yet here he was, still sitting in his car, parked in front of your dad’s house like an idiot, his heart thudding in his chest. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, replaying the way you looked at him, the way your lips had quirked into that teasing little smile. And the worst part? He didn’t want to leave.

He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair, trying to shake the thought of you from his mind. But it was useless. You were everywhere—on his skin, in his thoughts, making him feel like he was going to explode. He needed to get himself together.

Just as he started to gather himself, he heard the passenger door click open. His heart stopped for a second, and when he turned, there you were.

You didn’t say a word as you slid into the car, freshly showered, smelling faintly of soap and shampoo. Your legs, bare beneath those tiny boxer shorts, brushed against the center console, and your top left almost nothing to the imagination. Sidney’s breath hitched, his chest tightening at the sight of you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was low, raspy, barely above a whisper. He wasn’t sure if he was asking you or himself.

The tension that had been building all night, the unspoken pull between you, snapped the moment you settled into the seat beside him. Without even thinking, Sidney reached for you, and you leaned over the center console, your lips crashing into his with an intensity that stole his breath.

The kiss was desperate, hungry, like neither of you could get enough. Sidney’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you made a sound—a soft, breathless sigh that sent a rush of heat straight through him. God, you tasted sweet, sweeter than he could’ve imagined, and he couldn’t get enough.

Your lips moved against his, feverish and demanding, and Sidney was lost in you. His other hand slid down your side, feeling the soft, bare skin beneath his fingertips, and you shivered under his touch. Your lips parted, and he didn’t hesitate, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you, exploring every inch. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, but it was perfect—so perfect it made his head spin.

He broke away just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard, your lips swollen and red.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough and thick with desire. “You’re so—”

You didn’t let him finish. Your hands were on him, fingers curling into his shirt as you pulled him back in, your lips crashing into his again. Sidney groaned into your mouth, his hand slipping under the hem of your top, sliding up the smooth expanse of your back, desperate to touch more of you.

Your hands moved, fingers curling into the length of his hair as you leaned over the console, practically climbing into his lap. He kissed you like a man starved, each touch, each stroke of his tongue against yours making it harder to remember why this was a bad idea.

“Sidney,” you breathed, your voice a soft, breathy plea that made his blood run hot.

He groaned, his hands sliding down to your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin as he guided you closer. “Come here, baby,” he muttered, pulling you fully onto his lap.

You shifted, and suddenly you were climbing over the center console, straddling his lap, your knees pressing into the seat. Sidney’s hands instinctively found your hips, holding you in place as you settled onto him. The moment you sat down, you both gasped, the heat between you sparking like a live wire.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours before trailing down your jaw to your neck.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access, and he didn’t hesitate, his lips and teeth grazing your skin, eliciting a soft gasp from you. “Fuck,” you sighed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed a path down to your collarbone.

He couldn’t stop the low growl that escaped him as you rolled your hips against him, the friction making him grip you even tighter.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look at you. Your lips were swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes were dark and full of want. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

You smiled, a teasing, almost wicked smile, as you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, it was slower, deeper, your lips moving against his in a way that had him completely unraveling.

“I think I have some idea,” you murmured, your voice full of that quiet confidence that had been driving him insane all night.

“Jesus,” he breathed, his voice low and strained, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he fought to catch his breath. He could feel the warmth of you through your shorts, pressed against his thigh, and it was driving him absolutely wild.

You rocked your hips, testing the waters, and Sidney’s grip tightened on your waist, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

A soft, breathless laugh escaped your lips, and Sidney couldn’t help but smile against your skin. But then you moved again, this time slower, more deliberate, grinding your hips against his thigh, and all traces of humor disappeared.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head tilting back against the headrest, his hands guiding your movements. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “You like that?” you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

Sidney’s hands slid up your back, tangling in your hair as he pulled you down for another kiss. This one was slower, but no less intense. Your lips moved against his in a lazy, sensual rhythm, your hips still grinding against his thigh, sending wave after wave of pleasure through him. His tongue slipped into your mouth again, tasting you, exploring every inch, and you moaned softly into the kiss, the sound making his blood boil.

“Sidney,” you murmured, your voice soft but full of need.

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing gently.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

“Never,” he promised, his voice low and rough as he kissed you again, his hands gripping you tightly as he guided your movements against him.

You leaned forward, your lips finding his neck as you pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to his skin. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as you sucked gently, leaving a faint mark just below his jaw.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his head falling back against the headrest as you continued your assault on his neck.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his as you smiled, that teasing, confident smile that had been driving him crazy all night.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” Sidney murmured against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you as you moved. “So damn sweet.”

You bit down on his bottom lip, tugging it gently between your teeth, and Sidney groaned, his hands tightening on your waist. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice rough and desperate. “So perfect.”

Your hands were in his hair, tugging gently as you kissed him, slow and sloppy, your lips swollen and red. Sidney’s hands moved down, gripping your hips as he guided you against his thigh, feeling the heat of you through your shorts.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “I need you. I need you so bad.”

Your lips curved into a slow, teasing smile, and you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Then take me,” you whispered, your voice soft and sweet, but full of promise.

Sidney didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his lips crashing into yours once more. The kiss was hot and messy, full of tongue and teeth, and neither of you cared. All that mattered was the feel of you in his arms, the taste of you on his lips, the heat of your body pressed against his.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, his voice rough with desire as his hands slid down to your hips again, pulling you harder against his thigh. “I’ve been wanting this all fucking night.”

Sidney couldn’t remember the last time he felt this out of control. Every kiss, every movement of your hips against him had him feeling like he was seconds away from losing it entirely. You were perched on his lap, legs spread over his thighs, and the way you rocked against him, the heat of you soaking through the fabric of your little boxer shorts—it was intoxicating. His hands were on your waist, guiding your movements slowly, deliberately, just enough to feel the friction but not enough to give you what you so clearly wanted.

Your lips were swollen, a little bruised from how hungrily you had been kissing him, but you didn’t stop. Neither of you did. The taste of you was addictive, and Sidney couldn’t help but groan into your mouth when you kissed him again, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. Your breathless sighs and quiet moans sent shivers down his spine, each sound like music to his ears, pushing him closer to the edge. He felt like a teenager again, like this was his first time sneaking around and making out in the front seat of his car.

But this was so much more intense, so much more desperate.

“Shit,” Sidney muttered, his voice hoarse as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His hands were gripping your hips tightly, guiding you slowly against his thigh, but he could feel the tremble in your legs, the way you were growing more and more restless beneath his touch. You wanted more—he could feel it.

Your head tipped back, lips parted as a soft moan slipped out, and Sidney swore it was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard. He shifted beneath you, the friction of your body against him sending sparks of pleasure coursing through his veins. He wanted to touch you everywhere, to feel every inch of you, but he was holding himself back, trying to maintain just an ounce of control.

But when you started to get impatient, your body grinding harder against his thigh, his restraint started to slip.

“God, you’re driving me nuts,” he breathed, his voice low and rough as his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your back. He could feel the warmth of you through the thin fabric of your shorts, and it was taking everything in him not to just lose it right here in the front seat of his car.

You whimpered softly, your fingers tightening in his hair as you rocked against him harder, chasing the friction, needing more. Sidney’s lips found your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, feeling you shiver against him.

"Please, Sid," you whispered, your voice soft and needy, the sound sending a jolt of heat straight through him. You tilted your hips, trying to guide his hands lower, to where you really wanted him, but he resisted, keeping his touch light and teasing.

“Not yet,” he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing against your collarbone as his hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you in place. “I want to take my time with you.”

A frustrated moan escaped your lips, and Sidney could feel the tension in your body, the way your breath came in short, shallow gasps as you rocked harder against him, trying to find release on your own. He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips tightly, guiding your movements against his thigh as you ground down, your breath hitching with each movement.

You were so close—he could feel it.

And so was he.

Sidney’s hands wandered beneath your shirt, exploring the soft curves of your body, but still, he didn’t touch you where you wanted him to. He was drawing it out, making you work for it, and the more he held back, the needier you became.

He could feel the heat of you through your shorts, the dampness pooling between your thighs as you pressed harder against him. The thought of you so worked up, so desperate for him, was enough to drive him insane.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Sidney muttered, his voice thick with desire as his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, brushing against your bare skin. You gasped softly, your body trembling beneath his touch, but he didn’t give you what you wanted, not yet.

"Sid, please," you whimpered, your voice breaking as you grabbed his hand, trying to guide it lower. But instead, he pulled his hand away, his lips curving into a slow, teasing smile.

“Uh-uh,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he kissed your neck again. “You’re gonna have to work for it, sweetheart.”

You groaned softly in frustration, but instead of protesting, you did exactly that. Your hands gripped his shoulders for balance as you started to rock your hips against his thigh, faster, more desperate this time. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure washing over you, and Sidney could feel the way your breath hitched with each grind of your hips. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your head tipping back as you let out a soft, breathless moan.

Sidney’s grip tightened on your hips, guiding you, helping you chase that high you were so desperate for. He was losing control, too—his breathing ragged, his skin flushed, and every moan that escaped your lips was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel so good,” Sidney muttered, his voice rough as he kissed your neck again, his hands sliding down to your ass, squeezing gently as he guided your movements. “So fucking good.”

You whimpered softly, your body trembling as you ground against him harder, faster. Sidney groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pulling you down harder against his thigh, feeling the heat of you through the thin fabric of your shorts. He was so close to losing it, so close to just taking you right here in the front seat of his car.

But then you moved your hand between your legs, pressing your fingers against the slick fabric of your shorts, and Sidney’s breath caught in his throat. You were so needy, so desperate for him, and he could feel it in every strained sound you made, every trembling movement of your body.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he watched you, his heart pounding in his chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you touched yourself, your fingers moving in slow circles over your soaked shorts. Sidney groaned, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer as he kissed you again, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

He should stop you—he knew that. He should tell you that this was wrong, that someone could walk by at any moment and see what you were doing. But you didn’t care, so why should he?

Sidney’s hands slipped beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back as he kissed you harder, deeper. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, the way you trembled beneath his touch, and it was driving him insane.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” Sidney muttered against your lips, his voice thick with desire as he kissed you again, his hands wandering beneath your clothes.

You let out a soft laugh, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Who gives a shit?”

Sidney chuckled, his breath hitching as you ground against him again, harder this time. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pulled you down against him, feeling the heat of you through your shorts. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smiled, your lips curving into a teasing smirk as you kissed him again, slow and lazy, your fingers tangled in his hair. “You love it,” you whispered, your breath hot against his lips.

Sidney groaned softly, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing gently as he pulled you closer. “Yeah, I fucking do,” he muttered, his lips brushing against yours.

The air inside the car was growing thick with heat and tension, and Sidney could barely think straight. The windows were starting to fog up, the outside world slowly disappearing from view as if the two of you were in your own little bubble. Each kiss was deeper, messier, and more desperate than the last, your breath mingling with his as your lips moved together in a rhythm that neither of you wanted to break.

Sidney’s hands were everywhere—on your hips, your thighs, slipping beneath your shirt, exploring every inch of your body. He could feel how soaked you were through your shorts, how your body trembled with need, and it was driving him wild. You were grinding against his thigh, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your little moans making it almost impossible for him to hold back.

The tension between you was unbearable, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, ready to snap at any second. Sidney knew that if you stayed like this any longer, he was going to lose control completely. And the thought of taking it further—of giving you exactly what you wanted—was tempting, so damn tempting. But there were people just a few feet away. One wrong move, one sound, and the entire night would unravel. As much as Sidney wanted you, as much as he ached to take things to the next level, he couldn’t risk it.

You were breathless, your body trembling as you rocked against him, your fingers still pressing between your legs, and Sidney’s mind was a blur of need. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the pulse of desire thrumming through his veins, but he couldn’t help the small voice in the back of his head reminding him of the reality of the situation. If you two didn’t stop now, someone would notice.

The windows were fogging up more and more, a telltale sign of what was happening inside the car, and Sidney knew it was only a matter of time before someone got suspicious. You must have sensed it too because your movements slowed, your breath coming in soft, shallow gasps as you kissed him again, a little slower this time, but just as needy.

Sidney muttered against your lips, his voice rough as he broke the kiss for a second, his forehead pressed against yours. “We’re gonna get caught.”

You didn’t seem to care, your lips moving to his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin as you ground against his thigh one last time. “I don’t give a shit,” you whispered, your voice hushed, but full of need, your breath hot against his skin.

Sidney groaned, his hands tightening on your hips as he tried to hold back, tried to be the voice of reason, but you were making it so damn hard. “I know, but—fuck, we need to stop. Just for now,” he whispered, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

Reluctantly, you pulled back, your lips leaving his neck, your eyes heavy with lust as you met his gaze. Your body was still pressed against his, and the heat between you was almost unbearable. Sidney swallowed hard, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to regain some semblance of control.

But you didn’t make it easy for him.

With a slow, deliberate movement, you pulled your fingers from between your legs, slipping your hand out from beneath your shorts, your fingers glistening in the low light. Sidney’s eyes darkened as he watched you, his breath catching in his throat as you brought your fingers to your lips, giving him a taste of yourself with a slow, teasing lick.

His head fell back against the seat, a low, desperate groan escaping his lips as he watched you, his skin buzzing with the need to pull you back into him, to kiss you until you were both out of breath again. But you were already shifting off his lap, your body moving away from him, leaving a trail of heat in your wake as you settled back into the passenger seat.

“This isn’t over,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry as you leaned in one last time, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Next time, you’re gonna give me what I fucking want.”

Sidney’s chest tightened at your words, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched you, his mind already racing with the possibilities of what next time might bring. “You think I won’t?” he murmured, his voice deep and full of promise. “You have no idea.”

Your eyes flickered with amusement, a teasing smile on your lips as you leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “I’m counting on it.”

Sidney let out a low, rumbling laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to cool down. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but there was no mistaking the anticipation in his voice, the thrill of knowing that this wasn’t over—that next time, you would both cross the line you were dancing so dangerously close to tonight.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, the tension still heavy between you, but there was an unspoken agreement now. You couldn’t push it further, not here, not tonight. But Sidney was already counting down the minutes until the next time he could get you alone, until the next time he could finally give you everything you wanted—everything you both wanted.

You slipped out of the car, your body moving with an easy grace that had Sidney’s eyes following your every movement. You glanced back at him one last time, a knowing smile on your lips before you turned and disappeared into the house.

Sidney watched you go, his mind still reeling from everything that had just happened. His skin was buzzing, his heart racing, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you felt against him, the way you tasted, the way you sounded when you said his name.

He leaned back in the driver’s seat, letting out a shaky breath as he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against the fogged-up window. He was already imagining the next time, the way he would pull you close, the way he’d kiss you until neither of you could think straight, and this time, he wouldn’t hold back.

Next time, you were going to get exactly what you wanted.

And Sidney couldn’t fucking wait.

#angelsuecultwrites #sidney crosby #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby smut #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl players #pittsburgh penguins #reqs open #request #requests #long reads

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keresnotceres · 1 year ago

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Say You’re Mine (Good, Good, Great pt 2)

Ghost x Fem!Reader

[nsfw] cw(s): rdr is being a slut again, jealousy, possessive undertones, SEX, rough sex, oral (m receiving), throatfucking lol, p-in-v sex, ghost getting called ‘big boy,’ unsafe sex oops.

4.7k words In honor of 200+ followers (wtf guys thank u) & by the request of many, I present to you: Good, Good, Great pt2 :) This is just shameless porn with an egregious amount of plot. Enjoy my lovely dovies <3 (Also Ghost has a short refractory period for uh,, plot reasons).

A few months after his jealousy at Myth, Ghost gets sent on leave. When he arrives home at 12 AM on a Friday night, he promptly decides to pay you a little visit at work. You, however, are once again testing his patience (and he doesn’t take particularly kindly to that).

Roughly three months later, you’re working a busy Friday night at Myth, and damn it, you’re making sure that you’re making good money tonight. Flirting was easy; men were easy. Just making them think you were the least bit interested did wonders for your tips. Sure, you didn’t make as much as the girls on stage, but it was pretty damn close to it.

You made your way downstairs after taking a few orders from assorted tables upstairs, going to the servers closet to ring them into the system when the hostess scurried over and told you about a party of 8 at Center Table 3 before skittering on back to the stand to greet another guest or five. After putting your tables’ orders, you began to prepare yourself for the nightmare that this 8-top was about to be.

It was only 10 PM, and you had hope they wouldn’t stick around until closing. As you make your way through the sea of customers on the first floor, you spot the table; even better, you spot the perfect person to flirt-till-you-die with.

He was rather young, maybe 21 or 22, and looked like he would see white if you even smiled at him. He came in with some sort of bachelor party, and you were expecting the worst sort of groom-to-be and his just-as-bad groomsmen. Your target looked the most frightened to be there, like if he said the wrong thing he would be thrown to the curb; which meant he was the perfect man to squeeze some money out of. The men around him would probably cheer him on for getting special attention.

You walk over to the table with a smile etched onto your face, swaying your hips just enough to be noticeable, and put a small bounce into your steps. You stop next to the man at the head of the table and wait for the group to quiet from their unnecessarily in-depth conversation about their favorite actresses.

“I’ll be taking care of you guys tonight,” you introduce yourself. “Can I get you guys started with a bottle or are you looking for something by the glass?” You look down at the man you’re next to, tilting your head a bit.

He looks up to you, not even bothering to hide the stare he gives your tits. “What beers do you have here?”

You nod a bit, launching into the list. “We have Budweiser, Guinness, Foster’s, Carling—” The man put his hand up to stop you, making some sort of interrupting noise.

“I’ll take a Foster’s,” he says blandly. He gestures to another one of his friends to order, head swiveling back over to the stage as a dancer makes her way on. If you didn’t want to take a glass and shove it up his ass at that moment, the following hours of their presence would definitely make you want to.

You stretch your lips into the kindest customer service smile you can muster and look at the next man. When you get to the last drink of the table, the poor man you were planning on hitting in til’ he couldn’t see straight, you step closer.

“And what can I get you?” You make your voice just a little bit sweeter and lean down a bit.

His eyes dart from your face to your breasts, then dart back up. “A whiskey sour,” he blurts out, tacking on a quiet ‘please’ as a second thought.

“Of course,” you smile at him, then look up to the rest of the group. “I’ll be right back with those drinks.” You turn away, and as you’re walking towards the servers closet, you can hear some cheers and a catcall from the table.

Once you’re in the server's closet, you drop the painfully plastic smile and fish a coworker’s Elfbar from the pile of check books and pens on the table below the kiosk. As you enter drink after drink, you take a hit from the vape, letting the nicotine take the place of smacking your head against the wall repeatedly.

You send the final drink, a fucking whiskey sour of all things, and groan. Another bottle girl comes speeding into the server’s closet, a sour look on her face.

“What’s it today, Mel?” You ask, eyebrows raised as you lean against one of the walls.

Mel looks at you disgruntled, like she was about to lose her shit. “My table just tried to order five espresso martinis and then got mad at me when I said we couldn’t do them tonight.” She taps a few buttons of the kiosk rather aggressively. “Then proceeded to ask for an extra strong vodka cran, but to only be charged for a single.”

Mel taps on the mixed drink button, then on the vodka button, then cranberry, then double. “Fuck her,” she hisses, taking the Elfbar right out of your hands.

It’s only after she takes two hits from it that she asks whose it is. You don’t know either.

The night continues like that, with Mel being perpetually pissed off at a table and you staving off the urge to bash your skull in with a vaguely blueberry smelling vape.

When the clock hits midnight, you don’t have the Cinderella moment that some part of you wishes you could have. You don’t get to rush home, fall asleep, then wake up to your prince charming searching for you. No, of course you don’t.

Instead, you get the worst hit from someone’s cart that leaves you fighting for your life and, much worse, the nightmare bachelor table waving you down.

“What can I help you guys with?” You look around the table, waiting for someone to speak up.

One of them takes one for the team, finally. “We wanted to get a bottle of something, but Nick here decided to wave you down before we figured out what to get.” He jerks a thumb in the direction of the man you decided to target.

So your victim's name is Nick, huh?

You put a hand to your mouth and force out a laugh; a man likes it when you laugh at things he says. “It’s alright, I don’t mind waiting for you to decide.” Your eyes flicker to Nick, meeting his for a fleeting second.

It was almost too easy.

You smirk at him, putting on your best charm. “Since you gave me the false alarm, how ‘bout you buy me a drink?” A few of the guys at the table chuckle, as expected. You take the opportunity to walk up to him, getting closer.

You put your hand on the back of his chair, leaning your body weight into it, your fingers facing him. Nick looks up at you like a girl looking up at some ugly guy she’s giving a blowjob to, and it takes everything in you to give him a simple, sultry smile in response instead of a fit of laughter.

You look over to the groom-to-be, waiting for him to decide on the table’s bottle. And then you see a familiar jacket in the corner of your eyes, with a familiar build and a familiar surgical mask covering half of a very familiar face.

God damn, Simon Riley might just be everything you needed tonight.

Once again, he didn’t even bother to call to tell you he was coming home. You couldn’t stay mad at him for long, though. The rational part of your brain blue-screens, leaving only the work-oriented brain and the stupid slut brain left. And the work-oriented part of your brain wants to make good money, so that’s exactly what you’re going to continue doing.

There’s something about fucking with Simon that thrills you. Maybe it’s the fact you know you’ll get something good out of it, or maybe you’re just a little messed up in the head.

You look away from Simon and swivel your head back down to the poor soul you’ve chosen to pay off your car insurance. Your hand shifts so that your fingertips rest gingerly on Nick’s shoulder, and boy does it do wonders.

His look of ‘blowjob innocence’ morphs into ‘holy shit a woman is interested in me’ and some of his friends croon oohs, another whistles. You peel your eyes away from Nick and look to the groom, “have you decided on a bottle?”

He looks over at you from the bottle menu with unfocused eyes. “We’ll do, uh, a bottle of Jameson and,” he squinted back at the menu, then looked at a friend. “What vodka did you want?”

The friend looks up from his lap, his illuminated face darkening. “Oh,” he leans over to look at the menu, then looks at you. Or, rather, he looks at your tits. “Grey Goose.” You fight the urge to raise your eyebrows and question him, but manage to smile politely and nod.

“I’ll bring those right down for you boys.” As you leave the table, you let your fingers trace Nick’s shoulder lightly. Your gaze slowly finds Simon when you turn away, and he simply stares at you, his usual bourbon nestled in a hand.

With a cheeky smile on your face, you skitter over to Simon to greet him.

“Hi there,” you croon, “what’s a big boy like you doin’ here?” Simon gives no hint at a change in attitude, you don’t even see a single hint that he’s smiling under the mask. You pout at him, “at least say hi.”

His eyes are unusually steely, like they had been months ago during his surprise visit. “Stop touching him.”

Your faux pout melts into a grin, “jealous?” You ask, stepping forward. “Again?”

He looks away from you, eyes flicking to the dramatic scene of some random movie playing on one of the bar TVs. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

You lean into him, breasts pressing up against his bicep. “Come on, big boy,” you goad, “no need to act nonchalant.”

He lifts his arm to push you off, not even bothering to look at you. “You heard me,” he says, “don’t touch him again.” His words only push you to question him further, if anything, they make you want to get more handsy with — what was his name? Nate?

“Or what?” You press, cocking your head to the side to catch his eyes again. “You gonna kill him?” Simon’s eyes flit to you, flashing with some sort of challenge.

His eyes bore into yours, “maybe.” His gaze moves away from you again and his free hand slips up to pull down the surgical mask and take a sip of bourbon.

His lackluster response leaves you itching for more. You huff at him and slink away to the server’s closet to put the two bottles on the bachelor party’s tab. You trudge up the stairs to the second floor, eyes sweeping over the chattering people at tables.

You grab the two requested bottles from the upstairs bar before visiting a few of your tables on the second floor, checking in with a sweet smile before heading back down to the bachelor party. You give your poor cheeks a rest as you bounce down the stairs, your face falling into a bored resting face before it stretches right back into that damn customer service smile that you managed to perfect over the years.

You pass by Simon on your way back to the bachelor party, his eyes give you a brief warning before they flick back to the TV screen. It only makes you want to make him mad.

After you’ve set the bottles on the table and brought over new glasses (including a few shot glasses) for their liquor, you go right back to flirting with whatever-his-name-is. Your hand rests fully on his shoulder as you chat with the table, paying special attention to Nigel (or was it Nico?).

You can practically feel Simon’s eyes burning a hole through you as you do so, and it makes you wonder just how much he really cared about this little stint of yours. Nevertheless, you let your victim of the night continue to think he’s special, you even get roped into feeding him a shot of the Grey Goose.

Nick (you were reminded of his name by one of his friends goading him into taking shots) starts to get more handsy with you, to which you kick it up a notch. As you gently hold the shot glass up to his lips, his hands snake up and rest on your hips, keeping you in place as his friends count down until he has to take the shot.

You lean forward with the shot glass after someone shouts ‘zero,’ basically shoving your tits into his face as he took his shot of top-shelf vodka. You congratulate his semi-decent shot taking skills in an effort to make yourself seem like you really like him.

“Good job,” you purr, hand raising to stroke his hair once before falling back to your side. “Took that so well.” When you step away, the man looks like he’s in a stupor.

You turn to look at Simon with a cheeky smile engraved on your lips, only to receive a very pointed glare.

When the bachelor party finally leaves at around 1:30 AM, after what feels like for-fucking-ever, you wander over to the table to pick up the check. Your flirting really paid off.

A tip of £200 on a bill of roughly £600 — almost a 35% tip. Making money off of men was ridiculously easy. Even better, you finally get to go the fuck home! You silently thank your manager for not giving you the closing shift and get your shit before anyone can pester you to stay longer.

Simon’s waiting for you at the door, staring straight through you as you make your way to him with your work bag slung over your shoulder. He doesn’t make any effort to speak, and you’re frankly a bit too burnt out to comment on it. You pass him your car keys, unwilling to drive after your nightmare shift.

The drive home is quiet, not even the cheesy radio music breaks the silence despite the volume being on level 30.

As soon as he pulls into your parking space of the building lot, he turns the car off and flings your keys back over to you. You amble into the building,

Simon’s hands are on your waist before you can even put your keys down, you barely register that the door shuts behind the two of you as his fingers dig into your hips.

You snicker at him, “you weren't jealous, huh?” Simon doesn’t respond verbally, just hoists you into the air and puts you over his shoulder like you weigh absolutely nothing.

His reaction is nothing he hasn’t done before, but there’s a heat in your abdomen that tells you that you’re going to call out of work tomorrow. Well, that, and the fact that Simon’s had a hard on for the entirety of the drive home and you really wanted to fix that problem for him. Bottom line is, you’re horny, he’s horny, it’s going to be a long fucking night.

It’s what you needed after around 7 months without being stretched out by Simon. It’s what he needed after watching you get touchy with someone who wasn’t him. If you didn’t end up sprawled out on Simon’s bed, incoherently moaning words as he fucked you dumb in 30 minutes, you were both going to have an issue.

As expected, when he got to the top of the stairs, he turned right instead of left, going into his room instead of yours. His room was mostly untouched, the comforter a little crumpled from the time you passed out on it after taking one too many blinkers a few weeks ago (you’ve found you really like being in his room when you aren’t sober).

He shuts the door behind him and drops you on the bed on your back, further disheveling the dark gray comforter. You push yourself up onto your elbows, encouraged by the rustling of Simon’s belt coming undone.

“Get on the floor,” he tells you, “on your knees.” You make an absentminded noise in response and shuffle to the end of the bed, sliding off with relative ease. He tells you to do something else, but you’re too absorbed in your own world to hear him.

Simon walks towards you, hand resting atop your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he sits down on the edge of the bed in front of you. “Not fuckin’ listening to me anymore, huh?” His grip on your hair tightens and he moves your head back and forth.

“You’ll fix that tonight, yeah?” He eyes you like a man starved, you can’t find the words to speak, nor can you move your head under the grip he has on your hair. He seems to take your silence as a ‘yes.’

Your eyes roam to his torso, to which part of you is disappointed by the presence of his shirt. Then, you look further down to the very obvious tent in his briefs. Your head goes to move closer on instinct, but Simon holds it back.

You struggle against his hold for a few seconds before sighing and giving up, looking up at him with a frown. He looks down at you, a cocky smirk adorning his lips.

“You need to learn patience,” he grumbles, pushing your head to the side and retracting his hand to move the waistband of his underwear.

Your head returns to its original position almost immediately, anticipation coursing through your body. You’re basically salivating at the thought of having Simon down your throat.

In all honesty, Simon should be grateful you were taught manners at a young age, because otherwise you would’ve slapped his hand away the second his head popped out of the dark fabric and taken him all for yourself.

In substitute, you shuffle closer to him, knees scratching against the carpet.

Simon pulls his cock out, finally, and gestures for you to have your way. You pounce on the opportunity, hands flying up from your sides. One settles on his thigh as a support as the other slips down, thumb pressing against the tip. You can feel Simon jerk under you from the contact, and it only makes you dart forward and press your closed lips to the side of his cock.

You part your mouth and flatten your tongue against him, dragging it upwards until you reach the head again. You let your mouth part further and take him in slowly, teasingly.

Simon’s hand grips your hair, pushing your head further down on his cock. A low groan escapes his throat as you take him in your mouth and his fingers twitch in your hair.

He bucks his hips up, watching as you take all of him in diligently without even so much as gagging. He doesn’t expect anything less from you. He keeps an even pace until the need gets to him, until the haze ends and he remembers why he has you on your knees; why he’s not supposed to be nice and even.

He picks up his pace, rutting into your mouth quicker than you can take, leaving you gagging on his cock as he holds your head in place. Your moans turn staccato, the sound of Simon’s balls slapping against your chin falls behind your stifled gagging. It’s a rhythmic disaster, but fuck, it’s music to his ears.

At some point, he stops thrusting into your mouth and simply pistons your head up and down his cock with a hand. You’re nothing but a drooling mess, looking up at Simon’s face through your eyelashes, blinking through tears. He appears to be the polar opposite of you. His eyes are calm and his lips are settled into a thin line; the only thing that lets you know he’s relishing in this is the twitching of his cock down your throat and the low groans he lets out occasionally.

That is, until his jaw sets and his grip on your hair gets tighter. His other hand takes a fistful of your hair as well and holds your head in place again, his hips thrusting forwards and retracting faster than you can even react to. Your hands fly to his thighs, nails digging into the denim as he ruthlessly ruts into you. You’ve given up on trying to breathe.

Simon’s mouth opens slightly, a shuddered breath tumbles out and your lips quirk up ever so slightly. “Fuck,” he hisses, dull fingernails scratching your scalp in a mind-numblingly good way. He bucks into you harshly, then again, and a groan feathered by pants fills the air as cum drips down your throat.

His cock is heavy on your tongue as he pulls out and you’re quick to dart back to it and lick small beads of cum off head. His torso spasms at the action and his hands yank you back by the hair. You whine, trying to wriggle loose of the iron grip the man has on you, but stop once he lets go.

Through labored breathing, he tugs you off of your knees and pulls you up to him. He falls back onto the bed, taking you down with him. You quite enjoy straddling over him, breasts dangling below you as your hands press into the mattress on either side of his head.

You give him a stupid smile, “out of breath, big boy?”

He scoffs at you, the only evidence that he just came in your mouth is his lack of a boner. “Don’t say things you’ll regret, love.” The pet name sends a swarm of butterflies to your stomach, (rather, your ovaries). His hands come out of nowhere, grabbing your wrists and holding them behind your back, suspending you in the air over him. “Don’t think I forgot what you like,” he muses, “what a slut.”

His eyes gloss over you, when he gets to your skirt and fishnet tights, he frowns. “Told you to take ‘em off,” he mutters, moving so that both of your wrists are held in just one of his hands. It’s both a blessing and a curse that he’s built like a tank. His free hand snakes down and tugs on the edge of your skirt, making you splutter out a few words of warning.

“Let me undo it,” you plead, “you’ll break it.” He looks at you unimpressed as you try to get him to not ruin your favorite skirt. He relents, miraculously, and maneuvers you to straddle over his thighs. You don't bother trying to take your time as you undo the inner clasp of your skirt before unzipping it. Your right hand grips his as you shift your weight onto your right knee while the left hand pulls the skirt off of you, then vice versa.

Simon’s patience runs thin when it comes to your fishnets, and pushes you down onto his chest by the shoulders. With your ass in the air, he simply rips the fabric until he’s satisfied. Now you’re even more horny, but you also have a giant hole in the crotch area of your only pair of fishnets.

He makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and an appreciative noise. “Better.” His fingers brush over your underwear, letting out a quiet laugh at the damp fabric. Your hips jerk against the ginger touches from his hands, making him pull his hand away.

A whine breaks through your throat, your lips pulled down into a pout. His eyes flick to yours, the look sending shivers of ecstacy down your spine.

“You don’t deserve that,” he murmurs. “Come on, you know the rules.”

You give him a pleading look, eyes straining to see his from your face-down ass-up position. “Please?” You know it won’t work, his resolve is entirely too strong to be folded by the likes of your begging.

You get your answer as he grabs you by the waist and tosses you to the side. Faster than you can even make a remark at, he’s looming over you, hips trapped between his knees, dog tags dangling down.

“Don’t try to beg,” he chastises, voice low. A hand moves your soaked underwear to the side and he gently presses his tip against your pussy. It’s nothing but a tease, but it has you squirming for more, and there’s a vicious little grin on Simon’s face that sparks something in you.

He doesn’t bother to warm you up, and, really, you would’ve been frustrated by having his fingers stretching you out rather than his dick. Is that a safe sexual practice? No; but right now, you didn’t care about that, you just wanted to get dicked down.

After what feels like an eternity of teasing (in reality, likely just about five minutes), Simon finally pushes the tip of his cock into you. He pauses, then slowly pushes inch after inch into you until he’s balls deep in you and you’re damn near rolling your eyes into the back of your head from the feeling of him.

It had been too fucking long since you felt him inside you, since he stretched your insides to fit his cock so perfectly that he mumbles compliments into your ears when he feels like being nice.

He stays buried inside your pussy and looks you in the eye, another challenge. “You wouldn’t let him do this, would you?” He asks, arms lifting off of your body to cross over his chest. “No,” he responds for you, his hands darting back down to grab your waist. “You’re mine.”

And, oh, that admission sends waves of giddy excitement through your body.

“And I’ll prove it.” It’s a rather ominous statement, but he doesn’t even give you the time to register that before he pulls out from you and slams right back in. Then again. Then again, and again, and again until a rough, even pace is set.

Even, however, is not what you wanted. You wanted rough, fast. You could mumble for him to go faster all you wanted, but Simon wouldn’t budge. If he wanted to, he could go as slow as he possibly could just to keep you frustrated.

But even Simon is only human, and he can’t resist the urge to rut into you with reckless abandon.

His hips jolt against yours, a muttered expletive turns into a pant of ‘fuck’ and barely contained groans as Simon all but slams into you. The sound of skin hitting skin accompanies the noises falling out of your mouth, Simon’s hushed tones, and the bed frames occasional creak to create a melody of pure lust.

You find yourself unable to hold yourself together any longer, thighs twitching and abdomen getting tighter as Simon continues to pound into you like there’s no tomorrow (would it technically be ‘no today?’ It is 2 in the morning, after all). You can’t even bring yourself to form the words before you’re cumming on Simon’s cock while it’s thrusting in and out of you.

A whine builds in the back of your throat, your legs tighten around Simon’s waist, trying to pull him closer into you as the heat builds in your abdomen. One of his hands lifts from off of your waist and runs through your hair.

“I can tell,” he manages to get out through almost undetectable grunts. “You’re barely hanging on, huh?” He’s taunting you. “Go on,” he mutters, shifting just enough for him to rub against you in an entirely new angle.

You make a collection of noises, a moan that devolves into a whimper, and eventually squeaks as Simon continues to fuck you through your orgasm until he eventually starts pouding into erratically, an uneven pace that only gets more and more mind-numbing until he’s pulled out of you and you can feel your lower stomach be painted with his own orgasm.

It’s just seconds later that he leans his head down and presses his forehead to your. A simple, but oh so damning gesture of intimacy. His breath puffs against your face, warm and quick, but you can’t help but lean into the touch.

🍒: @xaestheticalien @clear-your-mind-and-dream @stunkbiggu @abbiesxox @nijiru @lanu-la

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley fanfic #simon riley mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader smut

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manfuckthisimout · 15 days ago

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You can be Alice, I’ll be the Mad Hatter

Mad Hatter! Yoongi x f!reader

Warnings: none, all characters are of consensual age Genre: Fluff, Oneshot Word Count: 2,688 words (yikes!)

A/N: this is an expirement, I wanted reader to not quite be alice, but someone who came before and stayed in wonderland. Reader is also around 19-22. March hare is supposed to be Kookie, mouse is supposed to be Jimin. Inspired by lots of renditions of the Mad Hatter, AIWL 2010 by Tim Burton, the AIWL ballet where the Mad Hatter tap dances (I thought he was hot when I was a kid), a frankenstein's monster of Mad Hatters! It may be a little out of character for Mouse and Hare but I wanted to write in some members and I chose who I thought fit best. ANYWAY, My requests are open, hope you enjoy!

It had been a while since you first fell into wonderland. You were about 17 at the time, but you can't remember for sure, as time is unpredictable here. You had been found by the red and white queen after you fell, and the two monarchs briefly fought for your place in their court.

The white queen had won the argument, and you were swiftly placed in her court as a lady, enjoying grand balls and living a life of luxury. Through all this still, you couldn't help but feel something in your life was missing. Something thrilling, exciting.

It was when you felt this feeling that you started taking walks around the grounds of the castle, slowly evolving from just the castle grounds to the area surrounding those grounds, and then the woods around that area. One day you got lost, wandering to find your way back to where you started.

“Damn,” You mutter. It appears you’ve gotten even more lost than you were initially. You're in thick woods, no houses, paths or markers to indicate where you could possibly be. “I shouldn’t have walked this far, damn it all.” Stumbling through the woods a little more, you see the beginning of some hedges. “What’s this?” You wonder. “I’ve never seen this before. Is this the beginning of the red queen’s maze?” You press on further, the sound of faint singing getting louder as you do.

“It’s one minute until tea time Hare, take your seat so we can start!”

What in the hells? Tea time? In the middle of the woods? How peculiar.

After walking a few more hedges, there's a small opening to peek through. There’s a little gate between two hedges, a kind of window opening acting as a door as well. You take your skirts, bunching them up and crouching to get a peek over the gate.

Before you is a long table dressed with mismatched teapots and cups. The tablecloth is stained, once a brilliant white with flowers adorning it, now a more cream brown, donning lots of tea stains. Sitting at this table are three men—well, a man and two human-like creatures? One has a brown mop of hair atop his head, a pair of coke bottle glasses on his face, and two little mouse ears with a tail. He’s dressed quite meekly, a tweed brown suit vest and deeper brown slacks. The second of the three is more eccentric than the former. Two bunny ears sticking straight up from his blonde hair. He is wearing a green corduroy suit jacket, his vest a canary yellow, and he has a little pocket watch in his hands, tossing it between left and right.

The third and final gentleman is the most eccentric of them all. His hair is a bright, firey orange--a mauve hat sitting crookedly atop his head to match his equally mauve suit. His vest is an olive green, yellow striped sleeved peeking from his just-to-small suit jacket, barely held in place by his rubbed shiny copper cufflinks. He has some whimsical, informal handsomeness you think.

Oh, he's looking at you! While you were far in your thoughts observing the three men, they noticed your poorly concealed presence. "Why, Hello Madam! Fancy a spot of tea on this merry un-birthday?" The man in the hat speaks to you, looking almost through your soul with his hazel-green eyes. The other two soon follow in their staring.

"Oh! I-I..." You start to stumble over your words, "There's no need to hide behind the gate, any and all are welcome to tea with the Mad Hatter!" He stands from his spot at the table and approaches the gate, leaning over it—and your crouching form, to offer you a gloved hand and quizzical head-tilt. You take his hand, muttering a shy "Thank you.."

Ever since then, weekly walks turned to weekly teas, the hatter learning your identity and how you came to wonderland quickly into the affair. You go back to the hedge garden every week, enjoying exciting antics and ridiculous conversation. In fact, that's exactly where you're heading now.

In your hands is a picnic basket; full to bursting with jams, cookies, and cheeses—all from the finery of the white queen's castle—and your lace parasol. You take the same route you do every time—through the forest and directly to the hedges. You're always early to tea time nowadays, more eager to see only one of your three companions.

The Hatter—with his witty conversation, cooky nature, and seeming gentleness with you—hasn't failed to take a piece of you. A crush started to develop, its long spindly fingers grabbing a hold of your heart and grasping for dear life. But that's not important now, there's a very jolly tea to attend.

"You're here quite early, don't you think?" A voice from behind you says. You startle. "Oh Hatter, you scared me!" You say, swatting at him playfully as he dodges only to grap both of your wrists and hold them out in front of you both. "My apologies, dear Y/N. It was not my intention to startle you." He holds your wrists there, gazing into your eyes as you both seem to breathe in unison. "I have never noticed," He leans in, "Just how beautiful you are." You breathe a sigh, belly suddenly filled with butterflies. Your eyes flit around his face, noticing the subtle twitch of his button nose, the way his eyes shine when they look at you. He's studying you heavily, eyes dropping from you brows, to your nose, to your mouth, chin, neck, clavicle...

"What do we have here?" The Hatter's eyes shoot up, just a few inches from your now heaving busom. You snatch yourself away from him, bringing your basket protectively to your abdomen. "Hello hare," The Hatter starts, "You're just in time for tea." Hatter goes to sit in his place a the table. "Hatter-" You start. "Well, how marvelous a day it is! Mouse brought cards to play after tea!" Hare seems excited, proudly whipping back to snatch cards out of Mouse's timid hands. Mouse lets out a squeak, but quickly protests at the taking of his cards. "Hey, give those back! I found those fair and square, they're mine!"

Hare sticks out his tounge, skipping to his chair while mouse fidgets after his cards. You shake your head amused at the display, and with a chuckle, take your seat at the table. Right next to Hatter. Your eyes flick over to him, but you find he's already staring at you. His gaze is intense, and you have to look away to save your sanity.

This will be a hard afternoon tea.

"So Lady Y/N, how is court at the castle?" Mouse asks. You turn to him, smirking at the question. "Oh, boring as usual. Many less cat fights to report than last week." "A shame inedeed, I was quite looking forward to hearing if Lady Juliet tore off Madam Cathrine's face." Hare remarks, reaching for jam and a cookie to spread it on. You bring your cup to you lips, snickering into it. "Yes, that would be quite the story to hear." It's Hatter's turn to remark, still staring holes into the side of your face.

"Oh Lady Y/N, these cookies and jam are exquisite! You truly spoil us with such things." "Oh, it's nothing Hare. The queen is quite fond of me, so I get extra food easily. It's the least I could do for all of you, after letting me join your parties." "Nonsense! You're by far the best addition to our humble troupe, Lady Y/N!" Mouse seems especially determined as he says this, standing up suddenly and rushing to your side to take your hands. "Thank you Mouse, that's very sweet of you." You beam. "I've had quite enough of this sweetness, of with you mouse. Go hide away into your teapot or something." The Hatter has an icy glare and even icier words for Mouse. It seems he's somewhat bothered by the other man's display.

"Oh- I shall not hide away! I'm only telling her the truth!" Mouse argues back. Hatter stands suddenly, a teapot in his hands. "Begone you absolute creature you! I won't say it again!" He races after poor mouse in a fury, chasing him into the safety of his giant teapot at the other end of the table. He sneers at the teapot, stomping back over to his seat and plopping down into it.

"Well..." You start, eyes nervously flitting between the teapot and the Hatter. "Why don't we play some cards, yes?" Hare suggests. "It might lighten your mood Hatter!" You turn to him, eyes pleading for a yes. He looks back. "...fine. But only if I get to pick the game." "Alright!" Hare hands you the cards, and you pass them to Hatter, fingers brushing—sending a tingle up your arm.

"I choose go fish. First player with four books wins." Hatter starts to shuffle the cards, dealing the three of you six cards each. "Let's make this more interesting, hm? The player who wins gets a kiss from Lady Y/N." Hare offers. Your head whips up, face a dark flush. "Wait a minute, what do you mean a kiss?!-" "I'm up to that, how about you Y/N?" You turn to Hatter incredulously. "I say no kiss! Why me?" "Oh come now Y/N, it would only be a peck on the cheek, nothing more!"

You hesitate for a second, mulling over the suggestion. "...alright then. But only a peck on the cheek, nothing else!" "Alright then, let's play!"

You three go through 4 rounds, asking eachother if they have a card you're looking and pulling from the pool. By the end of the second round, Hare is losing. By the middle of the third, he's out of the game. "Well, I guess this is the end for me. Ill go check on mouse—poor thing must still be terrified after to antagonized him so severly. Win that kiss for me, hm?" Hare darts off to the other end of the table, opening the lid to the teapot and peering in.

"What makes him so sure you're going to win?" You remark, side-eyeing Hatter. "Says the one with only two books while I'm working on my fourth." "Hey! It's not my fault Hare had none of the cards I needed—you don't have any threes do you?" "Oh yes, blame it on the game and not your skill—no, I don't have any threes, go fish." You reach into the pile of cards between the two of you, pulling out a five instead of a three. You sigh. "I assume that's a five?" He grins. "How did you know, are you, cheating perhaps?" "Of course not, and I will take no such accusations against myself." He reaches his hand out, palm flat and eyes on yours. "Now hand me that five, and let me claim my prize."

His wording sends another tingle down your spine, as if his firey stare wasn't enough on its own. "And why should I? You didnt even ask properly." You raise your brow at him, feigning indifference. "Oh, my apologies, my Lady. Do you have any fives in that hand?" "As a matter of fact I don't. Go fish." You grin at him as he grimaces. "I may remind you that it's not a'tall lady-like to lie." You stick your tounge out at him "That isn't lady-like either. Are they teaching you any manners at that castle?" Hatter reaches for the pool, and the bastard has the nerve to pull out a five. "Well, would you look at that?" He places the five into his last book, cards askew and all over the place—if it were anyone else playing they wouldn't be able to tell who's books were who's.

Hatter turns to you, grin as big as the cheshire cat's. "It appears that I've won." You grimace. "Yes, it does seem that way, unfortunately." "Unfortunate for whom? I see this as a pure and fair win." "Yes, much like the raven and the writing desk." While you suddenly find the table and the cards quite interesting, Hatter is staring into your face. "Don't I get my prize?" "When you stop being such an arse, maybe." You glare at him. He turns to the direction of Hare and Mouse, ready to boast about his 'miraculous' win.

It's also at this time you decide to get the kiss over with, leaning into his cheek, ready to peck. "Do you hear that Hare?! I won, fair and-"

Hatter suddenly turns his head back to you as your planting your kiss onto his cheek.

Your lips touch.

His are surprisingly soft, for a madman who you've never seen take any care into his appearance.

You yank your head back just as quickly as you planted the kiss. It was only a little peck, but it was on his lips—not his cheek like you agreed.

Your eyes widen, positively mortified by what you've just done.

Hatter just sits there, star-struck.

"Oh." Hare says, he and Mouse now staring at you two. "Should we leave?" Mouse whispers. "I think we should. Um, tea was wonderful as always! So was go fish. See you two lovebirds next week!" Hare takes Mouse and scurries to the gate, disappearing behind the hedges.

You can't process much, everything besides your heartbeat fading into the background of static that's now consuming all of your senses. You've just kissed The Mad Hatter--your giant, fat crush for a month or so. You haven't even told the queen, haven't had to, she already has a way of knowing these things--let alone the man himself. And now you've gone and kissed him on the lips. Great!

You slowly come to your senses, shyly turning your head while your fingers cover your mouth. The Hatter is still staring at you, wide-eyed. He hasn't said a word since your lips touched.

"I'm so sorry Hatter, I was only trying to-" Your turn to him, starting to come up with some excuse--any excuse--anything to get you out of this mortifying situation--of course he doesn't like you, why would he, stupid girl-

"No. Don't do that. Don't pull away."

His hands suddenly hold you face, either hand holding either cheek.

"I...I want this Y/N. I know you've had a crush on me--I was going to do something about it today if it weren't for those two gits-" His eyes close, and he shakes the frustration out of his head. This man...what is he saying? He knew you were crushing on him? Do something about it? Do what? "What do you mean, Hatter?"

After a long pause, he answers. "I've had a crush on you too. I was too scared to do anything about it until now--i thought you were untouchable--that I wasn't nearly good enough for you." How silly. Two fools in love, worried that the other didn't feel the same.

The Hatter--someone you though could only see you as a friend--was standing here in a new light, gentle, caring, soft. He was baring his soul to you--and he reciprocated your crush. You, the White Queen's lady-in-waiting--the forbidden fruit he could never taste.

"Do you mean that, Hatter?" "Of course I do my lady." "Then kiss me again. I feel the same. I have for a long while." He does just that—tenderly cupping your face with one hand, your bicep in his other. This time the kiss was sweet, full of promises and whispers of love to come—how wonderful and fuflilling it would be for the both of you.

It felt right, even after you both pulled away from eachother, resting your foreheads on the other's.

"I love you, Y/N." He whispers to you, smiling. "I love you too, Hatter." You whisper back, smiling too.

"You owe me a tart from the Red Queen Hare!" You both hear off in the distance. You both chuckle. "Those two...whatever shall we do about them?" "We can worry about that later. I want to stay in this moment for as long as possible." "Sounds good to me."

A/N: That’s all folks! How cute are these two huh? This ended up wayyyyyy longer than i thought it would be lol. Hope you enjoy always! Like and reblog if you did, I would really help out my blog! Also let me know if y’all want a tag list or anything! He’s the Boss pt. 2 is on the way!

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gallavichthings · 1 year ago

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It's time!

How would you all like 21 22 fics on the 21st 22nd of December?

The Gallavich Masquerade Ball 2023 is now open! Grab a glass of champagne or anything else you'd prefer, some hors d'oeuvres, and choose your (first) dance partner for the night!

You can check all the fics in our AO3 collection or on this post, after the cut. A list of all authors with links to their profiles is also included. This post is pinned so you can check it whenever you want.

And here's the link for the form where you can put your guesses. It's only one form for all the fics, so please wait to submit your guesses only after you've read them all.

Here's the updated point system:

Points for readers: Correct guess on first choice: 5 points. Correct guess on second choice: 2 points. Incorrect guess: lose 1 point. (Please note that you only lose 1 point per story, even if you guess incorrectly on both choices.)

Points for writers: If someone correctly guesses your fic (regardless of in the first or second choice): 1 point. If someone wrongfully guesses your fic: 3 points.

Leaving kudos and comments is allowed and appreciated! Writers are also allowed to answer, but it's up to them whether to already do it or wait until everyone's identity is revealed so as not to give anything away accidentally. Oh, and if you want to post something about the fics here on Tumblr but can't tag them, I can serve as buffer for now lol.

Oh, and the surprise? The winners will get some great fanart, courtesy of the talented @doshiart! Isn't that awesome?! 🥂

Cheers!

Keep reading to get a list of all the fics with their summaries and word count, as well as a list of all the authors, with links to their AO3 profiles.

FICS:

AITA? (2,072)

AITA? My new clients (29M and 31M) threatened me and I want to fire them. I know that’s not official therapist speak. TLDR; I want to encourage them to have healthier boundaries and find a new therapist, but until then, what do I do?

Attitude adjustment (4,483)

Post-canon Ian and Mickey figure out some relationship issues. That includes insults, (play-)fighting, more insults, and orgasms. Or: Mickey is having an attitude. Thank god Ian knows exactly what to do.

Black Charcoal meets Fiery Red (1,838)

Ian poses in a life drawing class. A straight forward job, if not for the guy with the blue eyes who can't stop staring at him.

Carnival (3,136)

Ian and Mickey spend the evening at a carnival... "Ian locked the car’s door, and put his arms around Mickey’s shoulders, as they walked towards the carnival. He had brought the leaflet home a few days ago, wiggling the colorful sketch of a carousel and the outdated font under Mickey’s nose with some hopeful glee. Mickey had protested for habit sake, but had caved in pretty easily..."

Five Dates with Brad f*cking Pitt (4,269)

Sometimes things may not be what they seem. Especially when there are assholes around who add fuel to the fire just for the sake of a fucking joke.

Groceries (2,260)

A routine trip to the store turns into a trip down memory lane.

The Guardians (4,879)

3,000 years ago, they had to join forces to defeat an evil sorcerer. Now, the sorcerer was back, and more powerful than ever. Could they defeat him for good?

i'll find a new place to be from (5,947)

They stand in silence for a couple beats, unspoken words lingering above their heads. The cig in his hand has long burned out and Ian resists the temptation to light up another, and another. He feels his mouth open, and close, then open again–but nothing comes out. Time’s up. "See you inside, Red," Mickey finally says before pushing the door open, and Ian remembers how to breathe.

Infused Attraction (3,434)

Mickey has to receive Iron infusions. Ian is a student nurse who is assisting the other nurses with the infusion. Mickey is interested in the redhead. Ian is seemingly interested in him too. Let's see how it goes!

Italy (I Trust And Love You) (3,183)

"Ian closed his eyes and ran a hand through his damp hair. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. Took a deep breath, as if to steal himself for some monumental task, and walked off down the sidewalk. The rain made quick work of drenching him. Ian didn’t seem to notice. In the dirt beneath the tree, drawn in crude blocky letters made with the toe of his boot: I + M." OR A story mostly told through Debbie's eyes during world war two, as she worries for all her brothers, but particularly the one sent home much before the rest.

Jump To Recipe (5,977)

Hiring Mickey Milkovich - Freelance Photographer to shoot the photos for his food blog was the best move Ian’s ever made. Mickey’s a fantastic shot, plus he’s committed to the success of Ian’s blog. (He’s fucking hot, too. But that’s just an added bonus.) And the best thing about him, is that in all the ways he’s professional behind the camera, he’s refreshingly unprofessional to Ian’s face. Which means when he comes around, Ian always knows he’s in for a good laugh, intriguing conversation, and an ego boost - Mickey never shy about how much he loves Ian’s food when they dig in after the shoot. Ian’s made chocolate lava cake today. But when extra time leads to their at-home appointment going way off script - Mickey wanting to update Ian’s headshots, but with a twist - who will the spicier photos leave wanting more, the “housewife army” from his blog’s comment section, or Ian and Mickey?

A Lot (4,245)

What could have happened if Ian had told Mickey that he was worried about going to Mexico with him?

The man in the van (2,141)

“Suppose I should thank you for the compliment then,” Ian teases, smirking a little. The guy snorts. “Don’t mention it, Red. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” He proceeds to shamelessly check Ian out again, licking the corner of his mouth as he does. or Ian Gallagher wouldn't mind some excitement in his life. Enter one Mickey Milkovich, ready to oblige.

ole red (5,596)

Mickey is out of prison and walking the straight and narrow with help of his cheering section, P.O. Larry . It’s hard being tough in a pastel polo and dad shorts. Old Army is just a paycheck until he meets the assistant manager, Ian. Finally he figures out Ian was Mandy’s Ian from their teen years. Mickey is attracted to the redhead but is still closeted. Ian responds to Mickey lashing out by revealing he knows Mickey’s secret. Mickey decides to be brave and the reward , huge 😈

The Reason to Exist (4,851)

lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: can you stop stealing my loot lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: this team only needs 1 sharpshooter anyway 😐 mm1234567890 [18:23]: shut up u f** lieutenantcolonel [18:23]: WHAT

Red Hot (4,364)

Ian's workday has been shitty... but his afternoon might just be very different. Thanks to his favorite nephew and a certain mouthy and opinionated stall owner at the winter farmer's market.

A Salute Before We Sink (4,601)

The world will end tomorrow. Ian's only chance at survival is to earn a spot in an underground bunker. One man stands in his way.

Snowballs and Sneaking Out (2,441)

Mickey shows up to the Gallagher House in the middle of the night with a surprise for Ian.

So drunk on you (3,878)

"Then Mickey launches himself into quite a detailed account of the previous evening and there goes Ian’s sanity. He’s learned over the months to hone his selective hearing. That is, he’s not tuning Mickey out completely but he’s trained his brain to gloss over the facts that fall under the TMI category and focus on the highlights. Again, for the sake of his sanity. Because the thing is, he’s so gone on Mickey it’s actually embarrassing. And he’s been gone pretty much from the very beginning." Just another friends-to-lovers story.

Span the Distance, Bridge the Border (4,988)

Ian and Mickey are happy, living on the West Side and adjusting to life as husbands in their new apartment. Things are going well, really well, until one day Mickey’s brothers show up. And God only knows what they could possibly want.

weight of the world (3,360)

Mickey thought he was fucked for life and that he’d never see his mom again. Turns out he was wrong about both of those things.

Wonderful- a Gallavich Christmas Mini-fic (5,030)

In which Mickey learns the reason for the season or How the Mick gained Christmas.

AUTHORS:

Blodeuwedd

Calli_Writes

Captain_Jowl

energie_vie

Gallabitch73

gallawitch

Gembu

GrandSelfMythology

IanGalagher

JuliaKay

lingy910y

MissSnowwhitepink

mmmichyyy

My_Brain_Melted

NotHereNJ

Rayrayor

sam_writes_fics

Suzy_Queue

sweet_perversion

Sweetbee78

whatthebodygraspsnot

whatyouandihave

#Gallavich #Ian x Mickey #Shameless #Shameless US #Gallavich fanfiction #Gallavich Masquerade 2023 #Events #Mod post #now updated

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lulublack90 · 3 months ago

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Prompt 22 - Rule

@rosekillermicrofic September 22, word count 739

Previous part First Jegulus part

The day came for their little heist. Barty fired up his crumbling van and collected Sirius from his flat before making the short journey to Grimmauld Place. The dark house loomed above them. Barty had no idea how it looked so much less inviting than the identical houses beside it, but it did, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

He looked over at Sirius, who was frozen in his seat, staring at the building. Barty put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve got your back, mate. Burger Face and Lord Twat are on their way to Wiltshire for the Malfoy ball, which, as we both know, is a total fabrication and will give us the time we need to steal all those damn books Regulus is so fond of. Now, come on, I refuse to carry them all out while you have whatever crisis this is,” Barty huffed at him, but it had the effect he wanted, and Sirius got out of the van.

Together they walked up the narrow steps to the front door, and with a bit of jiggery and the right tool, they were in. As a rule, Barty didn’t usually use his skills for actually breaking and entering, but this was a special case, and Regulus had left his keys behind when he’d fled, the ones with his and Evans's flat keys on them. This was something he needed to rectify. He spotted them on the hook just inside the door and deftly pocketed them on his way past.

Regulus had slept in the same room since birth and they both knew where it was. Sirius opened the door and whistled.

“There are a few more books than the last time I saw his collection,” He said, his mouth gaping. Barty snorted. Regulus’s collection had been steadily growing over the years. He had nothing else to spend his money on or any other joys in his life.

“Well, let's get stuck in,” Barty grinned, pulling the first lot of books off the shelf and stacking them on the moving trolly they’d brought with him. It took hours to move all the books. But finally, the job was done. They brought in empty cardboard boxes and emptied Regulus’s drawers into them. Soon, the room was completely cleared. They did a final scan before Sirius checked his watch.

“We’ve still got a bit of time, do you fancy a bit of mischief?” His grin split his face in a way that reminded him of Regulus when he had a dastardly plan.

“Always,” He answered, intrigued. Sirius and his friends had been known as the school tricksters, and he wondered what the elder Black Brother had come up with. Sirius’s hands suddenly held two glass jars of sliced pickle pieces and Barty’s face lit up. “Oh you beautiful bastard,” He cackled as he took a jar.

“I’ll take the top floor, you take the bottom, and we’ll meet in the middle. Okay, ready set go!” And Sirius was racing off to the level above. Barty, fully onboard, ran down the stairs and straight into Walburga’s sitting room.

He hid pickle slices everywhere. In drawers, under cushions. He even put a few inside the sofa cushions. The kitchen was fun. One went into the sugar bowl, another in the odds 'n' ends draw. He stuck one to the fridge like a magnet. By the time he got up to the middle floor, he was running low.

“Here,” Sirius said when he spotted the near-empty jar. Barty held it up and Sirius poured more of the slices into it. “I had a second jar,” He explained when Barty gave him a look. He didn’t really think that the man had gone easy on his mother's bedroom, but you never knew.

They planted the last few pickles and then made their retreat. Barty carefully re-locked the door with his pilfered keys, and then the van was rumbling down the road and on its way to the café. Sirius let out a laugh, and Barty followed. Soon the van was full of gasping laughter.

He pulled the van up beside the side door of the café where Evan and Remus were waiting for them. James had very kindly got Regulus out of the way for the day so they could surprise him.

Now the real work began, trying to find space in that poky flat for all Regulus’s books.

Next part

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sweetbillwriting · 3 months ago

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The Key To His Heart - IV

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.

Setting: L.A, 2024 but in an alternative universe with Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Bill's Guests:

Maria: Writer, 38.

Violet: Entrepreneur, 22.

Camila: Engineer, 31.

Sandra: Fashion designer, 36.

Esmeralda: Model, 27.

Rose: Personal trainer, 22.

Tiffany: Actress, 30.

Sienna: Painter, 28.

Brigitte: Chef, 29.

Julie: Model, 25. (Left in episode 2)

Odette: Pediatrician, 33. (Left in episode 3)

Victoria: Shop assistant, 34.(Left in episode 3)

The sun shone through the blinds at Bill, who sat on the edge of his broad bed, and it made his skin appear striped. He sat in just a pair of black boxers and held his head with his hands with his elbows on his knees. He had a bit of a headache after drinking a few too many glasses of whiskey the night before, and he looked at the empty bottle on the nightstand with a sigh. He had had some anxiety after having sent home Odette, not because he regretted his decision but just because he felt mean. It was the second woman who was upset at him, and he knew it would get worse and worse to send them home. He fooled them into believing he had felt interested, then he ditched them in front of the cameras. It was brutal. Just when he stood up with a sigh, there was a knock on his door. It could be someone from the film team, but it could also be one of the girls.

“Yeah?” He said, while he looked for a robe or something but couldn't find anything.

“Can you open? It's just me,” said Herman, a bit irritated, like he had waited for ages. Bill rolled his eyes to himself before opening the door.

“How the fuck should I know it's you?”

“Why do you lock the door? You really think someone will dare to visit you in the night? You're bigger than all of us.”

Bill shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the bed again.

“How are you? You look tired,” said Herman who sat down next to him.

“Yeah… It's harder than I thought…” said Bill, looking down at his bare feet.

“What is?” Herman looked at him confused.

“This! They get hurt for real.” Bill dragged his hands through his hair.

“Yeah? You should be happy. I worked on a similar show, and the women didn't feel a fuck for the guy, so we needed to tell them to act, and few of them knew how.”

Bill grimaced and shrugged his shoulders.

The men sat in silence a while before Herman cleared his throat.

“Today is two single dates, then you all have the weekend for yourself. I heard that one of the girls' dads had been in an accident.”

Bill looked at Herman with furrowed brows.

“Sandra’s. He's a bit older and fell down the stairs.”

“Oh shit. How, how is he? What will she do? Is she going home?”

“No, no. Just today and the weekend, so you can't pick her for a date. That was our plan, but now that can't happen.”

Bill scoffed and leaned back in bed with his hands pushed against his forehead. He had some pain over his eyebrows.

“So you decide everything?” He asked, irritated.

“It's so it will be good TV. So you will pick-”

“‘I will pick’...” Muttered Bill, and Herman gave him an annoyed look.

“Your dates will be with Brigitte and Sienna.”

Bill was quiet for a while because Brigitte he would have probably picked for himself, but…

“Sienna? Really? We have nothing to talk about.”

“That's just it. Your awkwardness with each other is quite fun to look at, and sometimes she looks straight into the camera when you don't notice and makes a face.”

Bill looked at Herman, who laughed, but Bill didn't look as amused.

“She makes fun of me?”

“A bit.”

Bill looked offended and sat up again.

“What the fuck? You get that I will send her home now?”

“Yeah, but first we just want to have that awkward date where she imitates your 'sexy stare’, she's quite good at it.”

Bill still looked offended. He might have thought it was funny if he knew about it, but it had been done behind his back. A girl who said she wanted to date him made fun of him like that; it wasn't okay.

“See it as your chance to act again. I know you can do it, and you can have a nice date with Brigitte as a contrast.”

Bill sighed and stood up, but let his brows relax.

“Yeah, yeah. Who cares? You will make me anyway.”

Herman smirked and didn't say anything. Bill had finally understood the rules.

×××

The irritation had once again awakened among the girls, this time it was Violet who spilled her feelings over Rose. They had just met Bill over breakfast, and he had shared what girls he would go on dates with. Violet didn't get picked this time either.

“Sienna was at the group date, and Brigitte got so much time with him yesterday. Why doesn't he see us all?”

Rose, who had been on a single date with him, didn't know what to say. She hadn't even thought about if Bill picked the same girls, she thought it was even. She instead thought about how close she had been to going home. She didn't understand why he didn't say her name earlier. Their date had been great.

“I don't know…” she said, distracted by her own thoughts, and opened the fridge in her search for a water bottle.

“Has he already found his favorites? He just plays with the rest of us?” Violet looked at Rose with big eyes like she had the answer, but Rose just looked at the water bottle in her hand like she didn't know what she was looking at.

“In that case, who am I? I'm the only one he has been on a real date with, but I got called last in this ceremony. I will probably leave the next ceremony, even if our date was great.”

Violet listened to her but didn't seem to be so interested in talking about her problems and instead started to talk about other things.

“Do you think he has kissed Esmeralda? They seem really comfortable with each other.”

Rose put the bottle in the fridge again and closed it. She didn't answer Violet; instead, she walked up to her room on the second floor. She looked to the right, in the corner, was the door to Bill's bedroom. It was closed as always, and she thought for a moment about what he did in there. He probably made himself ready for his date. His date with Brigitte. They hadn't gotten to know what they would do on the date, so all of them were curious in their jealousy. She walked into her room and laid down on the bed. It felt like she was in love with Bill, and the thought of him with the others made her throat dry. Their date had been so good, and still he didn't seem interested in her, it was heartbreaking.

Violet looked after Rose but realized she also probably had many feelings about the situation, and they were not friends; they were competitors for the same man.

×××

Bill stood leaned against the car of the day. It wasn't his; it was a car that the production had arranged, but Bill dragged his hand over the door and wished it was his. It was a Ford Mustang Cab; he guessed it was from the late sixties but looked like it was new.

He waited for Brigitte to come, then they would go for a ride, then to the secret destination. Bill had just gotten the address. It was a little exciting, and it maybe affected him more than he thought because when Brigitte walked towards him in a short black floral dress, he felt butterflies in his stomach. He smiled brightly at her, and she smiled just as brightly at him.

“Hey,” he said softly and pulled her in for a hug.

“Hey,” she said with a giggle and sniffed his perfume. “What's the plan for the day?”

She dragged an admiring hand over the car, and Bill smirked proudly like it was his own.

“I don't know; I just have an address.”

Brigitte looked up at him with eyes as blue as the California sky.

“That sounds mysterious.”

“Mhm,” he said with a smirk before opening the car door for her.

They speculated about the day and talked about the car until Bill drove onto the highway and could speed up. Brigitte laughed next to him and let her hair free from the tight braid she always had her long hair in and let the wind play with it. Bill smiled at her behind his sunglasses. The wind played with his hair too, even if he had slicked it back, but it just made him look more attractive behind the Mustang's steering wheel. Both their hearts beated heavily in their chests with a rush of adrenaline, but it was easy to mix it up with romantic feelings, so Bill took her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand several times. Brigitte blushed and looked at him with even bigger eyes. Bill could see how she licked her lips over and over.

After a while, they were forced to drive towards their destination, but their hearts were still beating against their ribs and made their blood rush through their bodies. They jumped between subjects like music (she was a country girl, he was a moody folk rocker), movies (who the fuck doesn't cry to Titanic?) and food (meat, Asian fusion, and Swedish cod). They talked like two puzzle pieces had clicked together, and they enjoyed looking at each other just as much.

Their destination was a house by the sea but with a full outside kitchen where they could cook together. They had the best products you could buy in L.A. to make the best lunch. They also had an expensive bottle of champagne, and Brigitte didn't say no to alcohol like Rose had done so they could cheer together.

Bill looked at her cook easily. She was better than him, but he liked it. She taught him tricks and told him anecdotes from the restaurant world. He looked at her with big eyes and tingling lips, so when they had eaten, he leaned over the table and kissed her soft lips. She looked at him with glittering eyes while his eyes had darkened. It had been a great date, and a great date needed a kiss.

“Thank you for today…” said Brigitte when they stood on the porch. Both of them knew some of the other girls were probably watching them, but Brigitte still took a hold of the hem of Bill's white t-shirt and pulled him into an intimate hug. Both of them thought about the kiss, but they couldn't do anything now; they had an audience.

“Thank you… You're a great cook,” said Bill while playing with her hands in his.

“So are you. You're good at many things,” she said cheekily and made Bill laugh and even get a bit pink in the cheeks.

“I'll see you tomorrow.”

Brigitte gave him a final smile before walking away to the guest house. Bill stayed on the porch for a while with a small smile on his lips. It had been an amazing date, and he got a bit embarrassed over himself and how he just stood there and smiled. He walked in after a minute or so; he had another date to get ready for. The date with Sienna.

One of the girls who had watched him with Brigitte was Sienna, who had seen them from her room. She had looked at Bill's big smile and how he held Brigitte's hands in his. He looked like a man in love. Sienna breathed out and made her decision then and there. She looked at her phone, the screensaver of her and her son on a carousel horse together, and then pulled out her suitcase from the wardrobe.

×××

Bill had dressed down to boxers and laid down in bed to rest. Just in two hours, he would need to be ready for another date. He didn't feel ready for it, mostly because he was still living on the high from the date with Brigitte and didn't have time to think about another woman, and especially not for a date he knew would be bad. He thought about sneaking down to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, so he pulled on a pair of sweats; it was then there was a knock on his door. He sighed to himself.

“What is it now, Herman?” He said, unlocking the door and opening it a bit aggressively. Instead of meeting Herman's blue gaze, it was Sienna's hazel eyes that looked back at him. He looked at her confused and then right and left to see if there were any cameras, but there were none.

“Hey?”

Sienna dropped her gaze to his naked torso by reflex but caught herself and looked up at his face again.

“Can we talk?” She said it carefully. Bill looked at her with big eyes. He wondered if it was about the date, but in reality he could just come up with one reason why she would want to talk with him like that, a reason that matched her serious face. He nodded a little and moved away from the door opening so she could walk into his bedroom, even if he otherwise wouldn't let someone in like that, but he forgot that with Sienna.

She looked around in his bedroom. It wasn't meant for any of the girls to be there. She had thought about how it would look inside if there were still signs of a woman there, but the room was decorated sleek and masculine in black and emerald tones. There was just one picture on the walls, a still from a black-and-white movie she couldn't place. Opposite the wall was a big screen and shelves full of DVDs. Someone liked to watch movies in bed.

Bill looked at her a bit awkwardly while she looked at his bedroom with big eyes. He pulled on the t-shirt he had worn earlier that day and sat down on the bed, waiting for Sienna to say something, he didn't have much to say.

“Ehm…” To his surprise, she sat down on the Persian rug and put her dark hair behind her ears. She was dressed in a big gray hoodie and leggings and didn't at all look ready for a date with him.

“I've decided to leave the show… I wanted to say it to you, the production wanted me to just disappear and leave you waiting for me on the porch, and then I didn't show up… I'm not that kind of girl.”

She looked at him sincerely, and Bill swallowed hard and looked down on his hands that he flexed. Fuck, he was tired of this shit. They wanted to make a fool of him. They wanted him to stand dumped and alone in a suit on his own porch. Herman wanted that to happen.

“Okay… Thank you…” He said it distractedly but then looked at her with worried eyes. “Why do you want to leave? Has something happened? Have I done something?”

“No, no. I… I feel like I don't have reasons to be here. It's not a secret you and I don't have the chemistry you have with some of the other girls.” Sienna laughed a bit uncomfortable while dragging her finger through the rug's pattern. Bill sat quietly because, for some reason, he got a bad conscience. Did other girls feel the same? While he sat in deep thought, Sienna stood up and looked through his shelves with movies.

“To Kill a Mockingbird... I love that movie. I did a project inspired by that movie,” she said with a dreamy voice, mostly for herself. Bill looked at her from behind. He didn't really like having people in his bedroom, it was his safe place, but for some reason it felt completely normal having her there. He didn't think much about it, just let her comment on the movies, and slowly realized her movie interest was bigger than he had expected.

She turned to him with red cheeks when she realized she had stayed too long by his shelves.

“Sorry… I should go. I have my man waiting for me at home.”

Bill looked at her with furrowed brows.

“My son.” Sienna smiled a little, said goodbye with just a wave with her hand, and then she sneaked out from the door so no one in the production would see her. Bill walked slowly after her, his head full of questions, and locked the door after her.

×××

The hot water hit his broad back and made his skin burn. The plan was just to take a shower before calling Herman and saying he knew about their plan, but instead he had stayed there with his forehead pressed against the wall. He didn't want to be a part of the circus anymore. It wasn't about him founding love; this was all about making TV. He had been naive, just because Herman was his friend, but there was also something else that bothered him, but he couldn't say why. He felt anxious and like he had forgotten something. He thought about the day with Brigitte, but looking back at it, it didn't make a big impression anymore; instead, it was other small things that had gotten stuck in his brain.

“To Kill a Mockingbird… I love that movie…”

“Sometimes they feel a bit try-hard…”

He became annoyed at himself that he would now start to romanticize Sienna just because she chose to leave. It was typical of him, so instead he tried to think back on how beautiful Brigitte had been in her floral dress, but pictures of how Sienna pulled down the hoodie sleeves over her hands were the only thing his brain wanted him to obsess about. The smallest details, about Sienna.

He dried himself with a black towel when he came out of the shower but didn't do it for long before he felt it was too hot in the bathroom, and he walked out to his bedroom again with the towel around his slim hips.

His bedroom was not a place he let anyone into, especially not when he had a film team there. To his surprise, he had let Sienna in without a thought and had let her walk around, looking at his stuff. The whole thing had confused him, so now when he saw Camila in his bed, he just looked at her and scratched his neck in disbelief.

“Hey…” she said and stood up in bed so she became taller than him. She had just a lacy nightgown on, and he could see her nipples through the fabric. He looked at her up and down and felt a tingle feeling spread down from his stomach down to his sex.

“Hey,” he said with a small smile. He thought about the dirty thoughts that he had had about her and felt his heart beating hard. She was in his bed now. He moved closer to her so she could lay her arms around his neck and he could lay his hands around her waist. He looked at her with dark eyes, and she smirked, like she knew what an effect she had on him. She dragged her fingers through his wet hair and then pressed her red painted lips against his. Bill could feel his blood rush to his groin, and he moaned into the next kiss she gave him. Camila dragged her hands down his naked chest, and Bill took a harder grip around her waist, so they were even closer. It was amazing having her that close, but his head hadn't settled down from the earlier chaos, and it showed him pictures and scenes from the day. Sienna's smile, her hazel eyes, her back when she left his bedroom, him locking the door…

“Why do you lock the door? You really think someone will dare to visit you in the night? You're bigger than all of us.”

Softly, he pushed Camila away and looked at her with big, confused eyes.

“How did you get in? The door was locked?”

Camila looked at him for just a few seconds before smiling teasingly and shrugging her shoulders. She tried to kiss him again, but now the question pounded anxiously in Bill's chest. He took a step away from her.

“How did you get in?”

It wasn't like he was afraid of her, it was just a really creepy feeling knowing she had been able to get into his private room, his locked, private room.

“How did you get in?” He said, much more forcefully when she didn't answer. Camila stayed standing in bed but leaned down to be able to lightly pull in the towel around his hips.

“I felt that you grew-”

Bill pushed away her hands and took a hold of the towel. It was then he saw a key laying on one of the DVD shelves. A key to his room.

“Where did you find this?” He said it and took it in his hand.

Camila sighed, jumped down from bed, and pulled on her black kimono that was lying on an armchair in the corner of the room.

“Is that so important? I thought you would like having a guest like me?”

Bill shook his head in disbelief while playing with the key in his hand. Camila stood and looked at him, but when she didn't get an answer, she left the room, closing the door with a loud bang. The sound made Bill jump but also made the pain in his chest worsen. It had been an awful day, and all he wanted was to have his normal life back and get all the women out of his house.

×××

His stomach growled like a hungry bear. It hurt every time it moved around in there. He needed to eat something, but he really didn't feel like walking out of his room. Herman and others in the production had knocked on his door, and the girls were spread out all over his house, as was Camila. He just wanted to be alone, but his stomach pains worsened.

Bill stood up from bed and dressed again. He took a look at himself in the mirror but didn't feel a need to do anything with his messy hair. The clock was 10 PM, so he hoped most of them had gone to bed or gone home from their work. He needed to eat, and he knew they had delivered meatloaf to the girls today.

Just as carefully as Sienna had moved out of his room, he walked out and looked around in the hallway. He looked down the banister to see if someone was near the stairs, but he couldn't see anyone. In relief, he started to walk but became distracted when he saw one of the bedroom doors standing open. He knew it was Sienna's room because he had seen her leave the room a couple of times. When he walked by it, he stopped to just look inside. It was a guest room otherwise too, and the room looked like it had been done before the girls had moved in, just that she had pulled off the covers from the bed. It looked nice and clean, but for some reason it left an empty feeling in his chest. He hadn't talked with Sienna much, but now it started to feel like a real loss to not have her there.

“Bill?” Said someone behind him, and he looked back at the person. He had moved into the room, and in the door opening stood Tiffany in a light blue lounge set.

“Ehm… Hey,” he said awkwardly and scratched his elbow.

“Has Sienna left?” She asked, entering the room and looked around.

“Yeah…”

Tiffany nodded.

“I think she missed her son. They seemed to have a close bond.”

Bill nodded too, even if he didn't have a clue. It felt weird she had left before he even got to know her. Or even knew anything about her.

“I must make something to eat. Do you want anything?” He asked Tiffany, who smiled brightly.

“Yeah, I could eat again. The meatloaf was really nice.”

×××

Tiffany looked at Bill making potato wedges. He thought the mashed potatoes looked sad and clumpy, so he decided to fix new potatoes for them. His black sweatpants sat low on his hips, and the t-shirt was a bit too short, so in every movement, she could see the black Armani elastic of his boxers. She smiled to herself; she felt lucky she was the one running into Bill like that. He rarely showed himself that late and was never dressed this relaxed. She could smell the scent of amber and oak from his skin. He looked like the boyfriend she always wanted. Tall, fit, beautiful, but cozy and relaxed.

Bill put the potatoes in the oven and turned to Tiffany. His brain felt as messy as scrambled eggs, but still he tried to smile charmingly at her, but probably mostly looked tired.

“A long day?” She asked when he sat down by the kitchen island with her.

“Too long. It has been a lot,” he said and massaged his own shoulders. He was tense after it all.

“Should I give you a massage?” Asked Tiffany and stood up. Bill looked at her unsurely. He had kissed two women that day; it felt wrong being so close to one more, but Tiffany smiled and walked around him and started to massage his shoulders and neck skillfully, and Bill made an uncontrolled moan. The moan spread like a warm liquid in Tiffany, and she could feel it drip down between her legs. Bill moaned again and leaned forward on the island so she could reach better. Tiffany took the moment to touch his back, and when her hands crept under his t-shirt, he didn't protest; the massage was too good.

When the alarm rang from the oven to tell them the potatoes were done, both of them sighed a little, but Bill was too hungry to not take them out.

They ate in silence but smiled at each other a bit. Bill could feel a strong attraction to her, but when they had said goodnight, he once again heard Sienna's voice in his head.

×××

There was a knock on his door the next morning. Bill started to feel like there were a bit too many people visiting his bedroom, and he pulled the covers over his head.

“Bill? Come on, open! You know you break the contract if you don't do what I say!” shouted Herman through the door. Bill kicked off the cover aggressively, threw the door open, and looked down at Herman with a menacing stare. Herman swallowed hard.

“Hey?”

Bill laughed unamused and shook his head when he walked into the room again.

“Herman, I thought we were friends, but fuck man, I don't even know who you fucking are.”

“Hm?” Herman clearly expressed he was worried. It was obvious he thought he would be able to be a good drama starter and a friend to Bill at the same time.

“Sienna told me about your plan. You know, make a fool out of me.”

Bill pulled on the sweatpants he had the day before but left his upper body bare. Herman stood and looked at him in regret. They were friends, but maybe he had forgotten about Bill's feelings.

“I just… It was just a good story, you know the female viewers would feel so sorry for you and hate Sienna and-”

“But that's not fair to her either! She just wants to go home to her son!”

"Yeah, but she also knows this is a TV show; we need to create a good storyline.”

Bill scoffed and shook his head.

“But now that didn't happen, Sienna has left, and we can inform the viewers and girls nicely that she has left, okay?”

Bill was quiet; he just sat down in bed, stretching out his long legs with his fingers entwined on his head.

“Okay?” Said Herman again with worry. He didn't want to hurt his friend, even if it maybe seemed that way. Bill didn't even think about what Herman had done anymore because he couldn't get rid of the anxious feeling—the feeling that he had lost something.

“Okay,” he said lowly and then sighed. He wasn't amused by the thought of continuing this journey.

“Camila broke in here yesterday,” he continued, mostly to think about something else.

“What?” Said Herman with a little laugh. Bill smirked and shook his head in disbelief. “She wanted me badly,” he joked, but then looked at Herman more seriously. “She had a key; I don't know where she got it from, but she broke in here.”

“That's fucking crazy!” exclaimed Herman as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “But… Did you do anything with her?”

Bill side-eyed him.

“Of course not! She broke into my bedroom; who knows what other crazy shit she can do?”

Herman nodded with big eyes.

“She has broken the rules, you know. Do you want us to send her home?”

Bill sat and looked up at the ceiling. He hesitated; he had already lost a girl he hadn't given a fair chance to, but this was different, so he nodded.

“Yeah, she's fucking crazy.”

Herman nodded.

“I guess this breakfast will be really strange. Two women leaving, one missing.” He then smirked at Bill.

“You make some great TV, man.”

×××

Around the big table in Bill's dining room sat just six women; they all looked confused at each other. Three women were missing, and the table wasn't even set for them. Bill walked into the room awkwardly, dressed in a cream cuban shirt and dark jeans. He smiled a little, even if the girls mostly looked confused. Some of them wondered if the three women already were at a secret location for a group date, but Bill's awkward, bothered look told them something else.

On his plate lay a white envelope with a red heart, screaming to be opened, but he didn't feel like reading it. He sat down and took the envelope in his hands, opened it, and then read it silently to himself. He could feel all six pairs of eyes on him. There wasn't anything secret in the letter, and he really didn't want to read out loud what it said, so instead he gave it to Tiffany, who sat closest to him. She gave him a confused look.

“Should I read it? Out loud?”

Bill just nodded a little and leaned back in his chair.

Tiffany looked down on the letter but started to read it without doing it for herself first.

“Good morning! As you all notice, we’re missing three women around the table.

Sandra will be back for the next ceremony. She was forced to go home because of a crisis in her family.

Sienna chose by herself to leave the program because of private reasons.

We sent Camila home early this morning because of rule-breaking. We want to remind you all that this production demands respect for everyone involved, especially towards Bill who is our host. Any rule breaking will lead to elimination.”

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #key to his heart

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

Note

Am I the asshole for giving a random guy my friend's phone number?

(🍫📲 to find later)

I (22 NB/F) was working one day at my place of work by going around and putting various items for sale where they belong in the store, as well as taking out the recycling. As I was making my way up to the front of the store so I could go to break, this older gentleman needed help reaching something. I helped him pull it down, but before I continued I was stopped by this other kid. He had a healthy-looking emo haircut and wardrobe, so I didn't think too much about it at the time. I kid you not, his eyes were big and wide like some kind of bishounen anime (idk if I spelled that right). Literally looked straight out of one almost, he reminded me of an excited puppy too.

"Hello! Do you need help with something?"

"Uh- actually, I was wondering if I could have your Snapchat?"

I was completely gobsmacked.

"Uh- I don't have a snap chat." A lie, but only because my snap is exclusively for my BFFEAE (Best Friend For Ever And Ever). I don't pass it out to my coworkers, family, or any other friends. Just her.

"Can I have your number then?"

Usually guys don't like. Spend this long on me. I'm Demiromantic and Asexual, and for those who don't know, that means I have no interest in having sex with anyone and have no interest in dating anyone but close friends. I never thought I'd be in this situation. Ever. The idea of anyone asking me out of the fucking blue for this is so far out of left field for my expectations that I was just staring awkwardly at him for a moment.

"... unless... age is an issue?"

"Ah- no, I am 22, but I'm just not interested in a relationship right now."

And it's the truth, honestly. My mental health has been a rollercoaster of emotions and schedules that I've been struggling to maintain for months. I did have one at the beginning of the year, but dropped it because I realized I couldn't trust my lover (he was extremely conservative, and I had to hide a lot of my life from him, but it was nice while it lasted honestly. Broke up on good terms).

"That's okay. Maybe we can just hang out sometime or something."

I'll be honest, I haven't been in good health to try a brand new friendship with a complete stranger either (I have horrid social anxiety to the point where I am basically a shit in hermit, and with everything going on in my life I don't think I can handle pushing my anxiety well).

Now, years ago, when me and my BFFEAE first moved to different states, we agreed that we could use each other's phone numbers to give out if we couldn't handle it or just wanted the guy to leave us alone. We have each other permission to pretend to be each other for it, that way they're more likely to listen thinking it's you saying "no thanks" instead of her friend saying "get off her back".

So in the span of ten seconds, because this kid was really sweet and I was still pretty shocked this was even happening, I was giving my friend's number to this sparkly-eyed kid (idk how old he was but I assumed he was younger than me, that's just my natural assumption honestly) and continued on with my work day. I told him a semi-common nickname of mine instead of my actual name bc my name is hard to spell and I didn't feel like putting much time into it.

Of course, immediately after I called my friend up and left her a message saying I passed her to this really sweet kid and to be kind with him (she's a protective mama bear kind of person) but that I simply wasn't interested and didn't have the right mindspace for a new anything.

Fast forward to when I get off work and check in with my friend, she and the kid had been chatting back and forth. Apparently he was into drugs (I have sensory issues and can't handle that kind of thing, so I feel like I've actually dodged a bullet) but was getting along really well with her otherwise. We got chatting about it when I confirmed that I'm not open to hanging out with him and that as long as she's kind and doesn't try to set me up with him or anything, I'm fine with her discussing whatever with him.

"I get it girl, we all get like that for a time. I'll keep it away from ya.

By the way, he thought you gave him a random number. He was SOO excited when I responded as you lol"

I felt absolutely sick and was horrified. I figured he would have been like "sick", but apparently he had been like "FUCK YEAH". I feel horrible for deceiving him like this, but I genuinely am in no spot where I can mentally handle picking up a new friendship, much less a romantic relationship. It doesn't help that he genuinely caught me off guard, and passing him her number was my first response to handling it.

Am I the asshole for doing this?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lyszyx · 1 year ago

Text

Truth or Dare

୨ . . . . 𝘈 𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 . . . . ୧

˗ˏˋ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.5𝘬 ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯!𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 ˎˊ˗

You were all sat in a circle, drinks in front of you, playing truth or drink. “Jake, is there anyone in the room right now you have interest in?” your friend Yunjin asks the younger male. To this question Jake shrugs, “Maybe?” He was unsure of his own answer. Truth is Yunjin had been crushing on jake for a while now, she just was too scared to make a move. Although she made it pretty obvious she was crushing on him, Jake never initiated anything either.

“Y/n i have one for you,” Jake looks straight at you, since it was now his turn to ask. “What’s your body count?” Jake asked without one second of hesitation. This question made you laugh because he knew about one but not about the other. You reply to his question by lifting up your hand, your index and middle finger upwards. “Do we know the second one?” Jake asks you, to which you shrug. “One question at a time.” You wink at him.

It was now your turn to ask a question. You had been waiting for this, having a particular target in mind for this specific question. “Have you ever kissed someone, Heeseung?” At the mentioning of his name his head shot up, he had been staring at his lap the entire game. His face turns bright red “I have not.” he replies sheepishly. Truth is, you already knew the answer. You had previously asked Sunghoon if he knew, because you had been interested in Heeseung for a while and had hinted your interest at him several times but he would always dismiss it, acting like nothing happened.

Like that, the night was filled with laughter and blushing faces. The later it became the riskier the questions were. Eventually the game was starting to wrap up. Ni-ki, Sunghoon, Jay, Yunjin and Chaewon had left, leaving you, Heeseung, Jake and Jungwon alone. Sunoo couldn’t join you guys tonight, sadly. “I wanna go for a swim.” Jake said as he slowly stood up, Jungwon standing up with him. Heeseung looked at his two friends, “I’ll pass” he said. Jake then looked at you, his eyes asking you if you’re joining. You looked at Heeseung, deciding that this was the perfect way for you to spend some time with him alone. So you shook your head left and right, “I’ll keep Heeseung company.”

The further away the two boys went, the more Heeseung started fidgeting with his hands. He was unsure of what to do or say since he has barely had contact with girls, if not never. That explains why he has yet to experience his first kiss. You shifted your body to the right, towards the handsome man sitting next to you. “Do you ever crave kissing someone?” You had no fear in asking this question because of the alcohol in your system. Heeseung’s face turned a deep red color, avoiding eye contact “All the time” he practically whispered, as if only speaking to himself. “Do you want it to be special?” You continue asking him questions. He shook his head, “I just want to get it over with. I’m 22 and have never kissed someone before.” He was kind of embarrassed, as if it’s something to be ashamed about.

A few minutes of silence passed as the two of you watched Jungwon and Jake swim in the pool. “Heeseung,” you suddenly ask for his attention. “Can I kiss you?” At this question Heeseung’s entire face became flushed, his ears almost dark red. He very carefully nodded, closing his eyes. A big smile appeared on your face, you were about to be this adorable guy his first kiss. Full of excitement you scoot closer to him. His eyes may be closed but his lips were not puckered, he really doesn’t know how to kiss huh…

It didn’t take much longer until his lips were connected to yours. The kiss was about 4 seconds long before you pulled away, leaving him with furrowed eyebrows “Help me kiss better, please.” He asked you, tone sounding almost desperate. You smiled from ear to ear whispering a small ‘okay’. “Did you feel the way my lips were puckered?” You ask him carefully. He nodded to your question, “Okay try that too and put some movement in it if possible.” Your hand was rested on his chin, pulling him closer towards your face. Heeseung didn’t hesitate this time and instead of you, he was the one closing the gap between you two. This time it was a little better, he tried to put in movement with his head but his lips were still the same. “I think we just need to keep practicing, pay attention to what I do and try to mirror it.” You explained. He gave you a small nod before closing the gap again.

Practice did make perfect, he was getting better every time you kissed. “Try to do something with your hands, babe.” The pet name made his face turn bright red again. “W-what should I do?” He questioned, unsure of what you’re comfortable with. “May I?” You signaled towards his hands, proposing to lead his hands to hold you. He nodded again. You took his wrists, pulling one hand to your waist, putting the other on your cheek. He stared at the contact of your hands on his wrists, avoiding eye contact with you.

With his hands positioned in the right places, you leaned forwards to press your lips on his again. This time you put more pressure, a small whimper escaping his lips. You smiled into the kiss because of this, deepening it even more. His hands on your body were slowly tightening their grip. You pulled away, “You’re getting better Hee” For once he looked into your eyes as he gave you a small smile. Before you knew it, he was pulling your body flush against his, lips pressed onto yours. This caused you to squeak a little, not having expected this from him at all. He slightly pulled away to whisper something, “I can’t get enough.” He breathed out. This sent shivers down your spine, your entire body getting goosebumps. “If you want I can kick them out, so we’re all alone.” Heeseung suggested, catching you off guard. “To do what?” You smirk at him, not sure what he was implying. “Make out some more.” He replied innocently to your question, shrugging his shoulder. You liked this idea so you start nodding at him, making it obvious what you thought about his proposal.

Heeseung jumped up, half sprinting towards his back door. “Jake, Jungwon, I’m getting tired. Is it okay if you guys leave?” The two boys were no longer in the pool. They nodded at their friend, putting their shirts back on and heading inside. “How are you getting home, y/n?” Jungwon asked politely. “Oh well I’m going to help Heeseung clean up first, then he’ll drive me home.” You smiled and looked at Heeseung, he nodded towards his younger friends. Both guys said their goodbyes, grabbing their bicycles and driving home. When the front door closed it took no more than 5 seconds for Heeseung to be back in front of you. He took your hand into his, leading you up the stairs towards his bedroom causing you to giggle and smile all the way up.

When you entered his room, first thing you did was observe. “It’s so cosy in here!” He had fairy lights all over his room and his bed was messy in a comfortable way. He sat down on his bed, patting the spot next to him and signaling for you to sit down too. You took no time to sit right next to him. Heeseung didn’t hesitate on putting his hands in the same positions as previously, closing his eyes and inching forward. You placed your hands on his cheeks and guided his lips towards yours and just like that your make out session has continued. The deeper the kisses got the wetter your underwear became, you were enjoying this way too much. Heeseung whimpered into your mouth every now and then as you repositioned your hands. You laced them around his neck, then went back to his cheeks, lastly into his hair, tugging every now and then. “Fuck” he breathed out, this was the first time you had heard him swear and god it was sexy.

Heeseung surprised you when his hand found his way to your knee. He sneakily and slowly inched upwards every few minutes, until he reached your upper thigh. This gave you the confidence to slowly push Heeseung back into his bed’s headboard. His back was now pressed against it, giving you the chance to throw your leg over him to hover over his lap, not sitting down yet. You weren’t sure if Heeseung was hard but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by sitting on his manhood. That was until he practically pushed your hips down, a move you never expected from the shy guy. This intimacy turned him into a whole new person. As you felt his hardened, clothed cock press against you, you let out a soft moan, earning a wide-eyed look from the male you were sitting on top of. Suddenly his breath hitched as you sat yourself down more comfortably. Considering he never had kissed someone before this must all be very new to him…

“You’re so good looking Heeseung, I can’t believe I have you all to myself right now.” Suddenly the shy guy was back again, he immediately avoided eye contact and looked around his room. “Look at me when I talk to you babe.” He hesitantly looked into your eyes, not keeping eye contact long before looking at your lips. This was your queue to kiss him again. After one kiss you decided to take it a step further, teaching him something new. You swept your tongue across his bottom lip and started sucking it. As you were doing this, Heeseung’s hips buckled up pushing into your core causing you to cuss beneath your breath. Eventually Heeseung opened his mouth, allowing you to entry into it. Your tongue very slowly slid into his mouth caressing his tongue with yours. Heeseung clumsily started moving his tongue against yours, not sure how to do this but instead of lecturing him you decided to let him do his thing, see what he enjoys the most.

Every now and then his cock would twitch inside his pants, catching you by surprise every single time. You slowly started rolling your hips onto him, causing him to moan. The beautiful sound filled your ears and drove you insane. You wanted to hear more of it, so kept going, rocking your hips against his clothed member. “Mmhm” He moaned and moaned and moaned. It was beautiful, his voice was beautiful and you never want to stop hearing it. “Moan for me baby” You whispered into his mouth before lowering your head towards his neck, sucking and kissing but careful not to leave any marks. “Y/n, I’m so sorry but I’m getting close.” He apologised for no reason, “Don’t apologise.” You got off him because coming in his pants would only cause problems. He whined as you got off him, already missing your body on top of his. “We can’t have you coming in your pants Hee.” You told him. “I’ll finish you off next time, whenever you’re ready. Okay?” You raised your eyebrows at him, waiting for a reply. He nodded sweetly at you before standing up. “I’ll just head towards the bathroom.” You smile at him, knowing all too well what he’s going to do in the bathroom.

After about 5 minutes Heeseung returned to you snuggled up in his bed. He smiled upon seeing you, finding the way you’re lying there cute. It surprised him how you could switch up so much from being dominant and flirty to just straight up adorable. You looked back at him, causing him to turn into his usual shy self. You grabbed your phone to check the time, noticing it has already gone past midnight and you hadn’t updated your roommate in a while. “Hey Hee, I think it’s best I head home now.” You gave him a small smile, “Thanks for having me, it was fun!” As if the two of you were not on top of each other just minutes ago. Heeseung watched you get up from his bed and head towards the door. “I’m driving you home, remember?” He suddenly said while he taps your shoulder. “Oh, I just said that so the boys wouldn’t get worried. I can call a taxi it’s okay!” You exclaim, not wanting to bother him.

A few minutes later the two of you were seated in Heeseung’s car, some silent music playing in the back. “To the right here and then straight for about 3 minutes. My apartment block is on the right side.” You showed him the way to your place since none of them ever visited your apartment, mainly because your roommate is home practically all the time. Heeseung came to a stop when you told him to, looking outside your window to look at the apartment block. “A little shabby I know.” You laughed knowing that he was probably thinking it looked bad. He shook his head in disagreement, “It’s not about the outside, it probably looks really cute inside.” You smiled at his comment, knowing what he said was right. “You should come visit sometime!” You exclaimed, meaning what you said. He nodded, finally making eye contact with you. “Thanks for dropping me off Hee and thanks again for tonight.” You winked at him before turning around grabbing the door handle and leaving his car, not really giving him the chance to say anything back.

As you unlocked your apartment door a familiar voice from inside started raising her voice. “Where the hell did you go this late? You told me it was just a small get-together. Don’t tell me you slept with one of the guys…” Jia sounded annoyed with you. “I’m sorry my dear best friend I was busy making out with the cutest guy ever.” You said playfully, her in disbelief. “You made out with Sunghoon?” She gasped, leaving you very confused. “No? You haven’t seen the one I’m talking about. You think Sunghoon is the cutest one of all? Wait till you see Heeseung.” Your roommate stared at you, “So Heeseung is his name?” You nodded proudly. “I’ll bring him over sometime.” You were excited at the idea.

As you laid in bed your phone buzzed, receiving a message from none other than Heeseung. “Please keep your word and invite me to your place sometime <3” the message read. You smirked because you managed to capture the boy’s heart, not daring to admit he might be capturing yours too. “Of course sweetheart!” you replied back to him.

-𝙀𝙉𝘿

I will, maybe, if this does well make a part2 to this, we'll see!

#lee heeseng #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung fic #heeseung fic #heeseung #enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader #fanfic

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tiny-sassy-aggressive · 1 year ago

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I am living blogging my reaction to the second watch through of WDAPTEO 4 bc the first run through was so much

00:00- I screamed when I saw the notif. I was alone in the car. Just pulled up to my apt looked at my phone and screamed “ no way “ I still can’t believe we got it

00:01- hi, they are SO BEAUTIFUL I’m squealing. I cannot stop staring it’s embarassing

00:27 what’s going on here? “Nothing” my heart. The smiles

00:50 oh I am LOVING the feature wall. And fish tank reveal project??

01:00 how dare they throw THAT japhan photo up there like it’s just some example. Who the hell do they think they are- also I want that doomed hoodie :( he is snug as a bug in a rug

01:50 terror not even 2 minute in and crack

02:03 I’m sorry Dan asking Phil about TikTok stuff is precious

02:13(What is cba)

02:39 I CACKLED. Phil’s sarcastic ass omg

02:44 dans little pat

02:58 phivorce

03:05 I know the ft, they are friends of course. But seeing the messages really warms my heart. Like it’s so normal why am I emotional

03:52 of course Phil sends millions of memes

04:10 how in the fuck did Phil catch his phone what??? Ft dans face during the whole interaction.

Ad time —— 04:25. Im sorry Dan looks fucking amazing, his hair is so curled and pretty? And he looks so comfy cozy and soft??? My Dannie side is really coming out rn

04:59 handsome devil, damn straight. Love this man he’s too precious for this world

05:23 🍑

05:55 are the Brits okay??? Bone daddies?? I’m too American for this

06:30 perfectly encapsulated Dan and Phil energy

06:35 Dan saying dude scratches a weird itch in my brain

06:55 again! Totally normal to call a friend in a taxi. But this moment makes them so real in my mind like yes. Call that friend. In that taxi. Make it less awkward. Why did I like this moment so much

07:05 A PRETEND CONVO OF COURSE HE WOULD. He’s so real for that

07:34 “these are very dan and Phil”

07:42 I’m in pain. Koala content and ouch I can’t even put into words

08:44 three days without a text sounds exaggerated. Or lie. Like cmon. All those messages and convos and yall went 3 days without a word?? Sounds fake

08:58 asking what he should do for his nails!!? Again totally normal but UGH I love their friendship

09:01 also Phil coming in with a STELLAR idea, hope to see it happen

09:11 Phil’s a little shit OMG he hated the nails Dan got.

09:38: dans precious little selfies

09:44 also who tf is that that does not look like Dan

09:52 wtf do you mean that they had the same weird Swedish bakery???? 10 years apart???? WHAT THE HELL??????

10:35 fuckin nerds ft cute ft selfie

10:52 Dan in Phil’s glasses hi what the fuck? Precious. Phil loves to take photos of Dan sleeping.

11:02 jump. Scare.

11:28 PHIL CALLED HIS MOM. NURSE LESTER.

12:11 Dan stalking the ring doorbell is not something I expected?

12:20 glad to know Phil and I share that we can’t hear someone saw our name bc it’s too intimate

13:16 ordering a roast dinner is so cute idk why

13:35 jump. Scare.

14:26 I hate them :( i so long for what they have

15:04 they didn’t see death note the musical!! Haters!!!!

15:20 HOT

16:00 Phil papping Dan>>>>>>

16:20 I rewatched this part so many times. Thsi entire sequence. This whole. Dare i say SCENE. Disgustingly familiar. Disgustingly cute. I- karaoke game???? What??? It was for them

17:06 omatone :(

18:22 hot? Worrying? Hmm???

18:45 Phil is so dramatic I love him

19:01 genre to dinner? I don’t get them

19:10 DAAAAAN AHHHHH

19:20 SCRIPTS AH???????3@2/9/@/9@22929 more writer Dan

20:17 this is so familiar

20:50 this has “would you still love me if I was a worm” energy? Can’t explain

22:53 “we dan and phil-ed it” we have to steal that! Asap’

23:24 when Dan sits up he is soooo much taller than Phil but he constantly slumps down and looks up to Phil. It’s very cute to watch.

24:30 oh they are fully embracing the joint channel and slowly moving away from gaming and honestly. I’m alright with it. They look so happy

Guys this was too much. So I just started reading fanfic and these conversations were right out of what I’ve been reading which is very odd tbh? But we were fed. This was amazing content and I can’t wait to see what the writers do with this. Cheers

#amazingphil #dan and phil #daniel howell #phil lester #dnp #philip lester #dan howell #danisnotonfire #dan and phil renaissance #Daniel and Philip #Daniel Howell and Philip Lester #Wdapteo 2023

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sendmebacktomysecondlife · 10 months ago

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I'll say it, I didn't like the PJO series. Now, I've been a book reader since I was 12, I'm almost 22 now, I have bias. But the series does not do the books any justice, and it's very meh in execution.

First of all, the lack of mention of the "battle reflexes" and "hardwired to read Greek" just left a bitter look on Percy's ADD. As someone diagnosed with ADD in the really early 2000s, PJO was the only thing that didn't call me broken for it. So for the series only mention of his ADD be to have him saying he was broken and messed up with no explanation otherwise when that was the entire point of the series left a sour taste in my mouth.

Second, I understand Rick loves these kids, but damnit, it's so obvious they are quickly growing too old for their roles as children. PJO would have benefited much more from being an animated series, if anything for consistent character appearances and visuals concerning the gods and powers.

Third, I hated the actors for Zeus and Hephaestus. I'm sure the actor for Zeus, may he rest in peace, was a wonderful guy, but it was so clear he was not healthy in those scenes and I was genuinely put off and uncomfortable being stared at by him when it was clear his health was failing. As for Hephaestus, call me picky, he came out looking and sounding stupid as fuck, and I was honestly annoyed they didn't find a disabled actor for him [yes I know the actor has a cane, I don't want to hear it, he's still a conventionally attractive actor who's disability wasn't even visible on screen]

I didn't like the casting for Annabeth. Leah, she's a lovely actress, but I'm just tired of characters described one way or having specific traits for a reason being changed, and it's the same for me with Luke and Percy, but Annabeth frustrated me most as a fellow geeky blonde little girl who was never good enough

I also didn't like the massive changes to Percy. Overhauled from a troubled kid with a sketchy past due to being a demigod to the most soft, sanitized crap ever.

This was something my fiance and I both noticed, they practically inverted Percy and Annabeth. Annabeth was the insecure one, and Percy was always taking the lead. Personal nitpick, didn't like

There was only eight episodes, and jesus christ if you weren't a book lover there was nothing to hook you into this fandom. No filler, no small reprieves. Just straight plot for 45 minutes.

these are all my personal opinions, I'd love to hear you guys thoughts. Please don't send a crap ton of hate, if you disagree move on or be nice.

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv show #percy jackson #pjo tv crit #pjo tv series #percy jackson spoilers

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devirnis · 1 year ago

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if you’re still taking prompts, can i ask for a combined 13 and 22? 👀

@bvckandeddie of course you can ask for combos! I hope this is to your liking 💜

(full disclosure, I wrote this in my notes app while hopped up on painkillers and cold medication and also on vacation ✌️)

Chim calls dibs on the couch the second Buck’s front door closes behind the three of them.

Buck glances at Eddie on his other side, wondering if he’ll put up a fight for the couch (and trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care if he does), but Eddie just nods tiredly and trudges in the direction of the stairs up to Buck’s bedroom. Buck can’t really blame him; today was the shift from hell, on top of a long week of shifts, and culminating in the call to limit potential exposure to their families by staying with each other. Given that he lived alone, Buck’s loft was the logical choice for Chim and Eddie to use, while Hen had elected to stay in the guest room at Bobby and Athena’s while the kids moved to Michael’s place.

None of them are very jazzed about the whole situation. One, because it’s a global pandemic and work has been crazy and everything is just a little scary right now, and two, Buck knows Eddie would much rather be with Christopher, and Chim with Maddie.

Buck lingers on the main level just long enough to help Chim dig out some blankets for the couch — he really needs to get an air mattress if this goes on longer than the two weeks that everyone is promising — before hurrying up the stairs after Eddie. He finds his best friend at the top of the stairs, staring a little blankly at Buck’s bed.

Oh. Right.

While Buck is totally cool with sharing the bed — it’s a king, after all — he has no idea how Eddie’s feeling about the prospect. The last person Eddie shared a bed with was probably Shannon, and Buck needs to not think too hard about that if he wants to keep his head on straight (pun definitely intended.)

“I can take the floor?” Eddie asks, glancing over at Buck.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I don’t have an air mattress. Besides, it’s fine, it’s plenty big enough for both of us.”

A strange sort of expression flickers over Eddie’s face, but it’s gone before Buck can identify it. When he turns back to the bed, Buck swears the back of Eddie’s neck is a little flushed.

“If you’re sure,” Eddie says haltingly.

“I don’t have a problem with sharing with you,” Buck says, and then frowns, his stomach dropping a little. “Unless — I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable —“

“No, no!” Eddie scrambles. “No, I didn’t mean — I’m not —“ He sighs. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“Oh, uh.” Buck’s stomach twists for some stupid reason. It’s been a while since he shared with anyone — Ali was out of town a lot during their brief relationship, and he and Abby hadn’t been physical long enough to pick sides. “The middle. Pick whichever you want.”

Eddie wanders over to dump his duffel bag on the right side of the bed, closest to the stairs. “If you have a dent in your mattress that I keep rolling into…”

“I haven’t had it that long!” Buck protests.

Eddie smirks at him, but there’s something else there besides the playfulness that Buck is familiar with.

Before he can decipher it, Chim’s calling from downstairs about Buck’s terrible throw pillows and the moment is broken.

Eddie shoots Buck a sympathetic look as Buck sighs gustily. “Maddie wouldn’t appreciate it if I killed the father of her unborn child on the first day, right?”

———

Buck thought that he’d have trouble falling asleep given the general existential dread hanging over him and the fact that he’s sharing his home with two other people, but he actually doesn’t remember much after he crawled under the covers beside Eddie.

He’s so comfortable. He loves his mattress and sheets and pillows, but somehow he’s never had a sleep as good as this before. He’s warm and cozy, with a comforting weight along his left side, grounding him, making him feel held.

Actually —

He is being held.

There’s an arm slung across his waist, a head on his shoulder, soft hairs tickling the underside of his jaw. He breathes in, the cobwebs of sleep slowly dissolving in his brain, and he smells —

Eddie.

Eddie is on top of him, clinging to him like a koala bear, snoring softly into Buck’s collarbone.

Buck’s traitorous heart soars in his chest.

He shouldn’t be happy about this. The only reason Eddie is here is because of a pandemic — not because he wants to be. He probably doesn’t even realize it’s Buck that he’s holding; muscle memory from Shannon is the only reason that Eddie is plastered to him like this.

Buck shifts slightly, hoping he can disentangle himself without waking Eddie, but then Eddie’s arm around him tightens at the same time as he groans.

“Time’s it?” Eddie mumbles.

The hot breath against Buck’s skin makes him shiver. He twists his neck to read the clock on his bedside table. “Early. Not even five.”

Eddie hums into Buck’s neck, going boneless for a few blissful seconds before he suddenly stiffens. Seemingly aware that he’s stuck to his best friend like a barnacle, Eddie slowly lifts his head off Buck’s chest and meets his gaze. There’s a blush high on Eddie’s cheeks that Buck finds equal parts adorable and disheartening.

“Um…” Eddie says, slowly unlatching himself from Buck. “Sorry about that.”

Buck feels depressingly cold now that Eddie’s scooted a respectable few inches back. “Don’t worry about it. It was… kind of nice, actually.” And then Buck cringes because seriously? He had to say that last part out loud?

Eddie’s face gets even redder, but then he says, “Weirdly, that’s the best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

“Well…” Buck hedges, “I make a pretty good pillow. And — I don’t, y’know, mind. If you don’t.”

Oh god, can a hole just open up in his bed and swallow him now and put him out of his misery?

But, miracle of miracles, Eddie begins to slowly inch closer again. He keeps his eyes fixed on Buck the entire time, like he’s expecting Buck to take back his offer. Buck practically holds his breath, terrified to do anything lest he scare Eddie off again. But then Eddie slowly resumes his earlier position, laying an arm gently across Buck’s stomach as he places his head back on Buck’s shoulder.

“Your mattress totally has a dent in the middle,” Eddie whispers.

Smiling, Buck wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, holding him close. “Guess we’ll just have to get comfortable in the dent, then.”

He can’t be sure, but he swears he feels Eddie’s lips curve into a smile against his skin.

(also on ao3)

#911 ficlet #buddie ficlet #myfic #bed sharing prompts #theyweretooyoung #ali answers

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frost-queen · 2 years ago

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Upon a nightly walk //part 2 (Reader!Bridgerton x Sherlock Holmes)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex–awesome–22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: Having fallen asleep at Sherlock's home after his drunk night. You have to rush home, hoping no one would find out about your nightly adventures of roaming the streets of London. Will anyone find out or can you sneak back in unseen? < read part 1 & part 3 >

Slowly your eyes started to open at the morning glow. A soft light peeking through the curtains. Inhaling deep, you rolled onto your back, stretching your arm out. Squealing a bit. What a lovely dream you had. A warm touch had cherished you. Brushed against your cheek. A yearning your heart desired in your dreams. Someone that loved you, look after you. Hold you into their arms and whisper sweet words of love.

Stand between the cruel world and your dreams and hopes. Offering you protection, love, ambition, and pleasure. Not to be one’s wife for one purpose of breeding. It was the loveliest dream you had. Flickering your eyes open, you slowly got up. Blinking slowly as your brows furrowed. These were not your curtains nor your walls. Looking down these were not your blankets nor pillows.

The sound of something happening outside your door, startled you. It made you jump out of bed, hurrying away from the door. Muffled sounds on the other end of the door frightened you. Seeing a candleholder on the nightstand, you took it. Holding it high as you carefully stepped up to the door. Taking the handle in your hand, you took a deep breath.

From underneath the door, you saw a shadow move across. Clear to you that someone else was around. You waited a few seconds before opening the door. You stormed out, candleholder in the ready as you took a swing. – “Whoah there!” – Sherlock called out, ducking down just in time, and grabbing you by your wrist to stop you from taking another swing. – “Sherlock?” – you called out confused.

He moved your wrist down, holding a gentle hand in front of him. – “Yes it is me, Miss Bridgerton.” – he reassured you. He let go of your wrist, pulling his vest straight. You looked around, trying to recall how you found yourself here. – “This is your home?” – you questioned out loud. – “Yes.” – Sherlock answered with a deep hum. He watched as you looked curiously around as if seeing it for the first time.

“Miss Bridgerton, you… you do remember how you got here do you?” – he asked wanting to be sure. You paused, frowning deep. – “I was out for a walk.” – you started pacing around. – “Then I…” – your eyes widened. – “I stumbled upon you… drunk.” – pointing at him. – “Not my finest moment.” – Sherlock replied. – “You brought me home Miss Bridgerton, remember?”

You nodded remembering it. It made Sherlock sigh relieved. For a moment he wasn’t sure which one of the two had been drinking for this memory loss to occur. – “Feeling any better?” – you asked, moving a bit closer. He nodded. – “All thanks to your care Miss Bridgerton.” – he smiled, fond of the memories of last night. How pleased he was his mind was careful enough to store the events of last night to his memory and not forget about it.

You started chuckling remembering his drunken state. – “Am I that amusing to you?” – he said quirking his eyebrow up. – “Yes, my lord.” – you replied. Eyes caught with his, staring lost at each other for a moment. – “Would… would you like some tea?” – he whispered, taking a step closer to you. You nodded, drawn closer to him. He opened his hand, offering it to you. You raised your hand up, to place it in his when the sound of a carriage riding on the cobble stones made you pull back.

Eyes wide at the horror that was awaiting you. – “My brothers.” – you exclaimed worried. – “I…they have no idea I disappeared last night. What would they do? What would they say?” – you wondered, panicking a bit. You were pacing once again with worry. Gasping loud, you came to a sudden realization. – “I staid here? What will they say if they find out I spend the night here with you. I would be locked up? Send away? Killed?” – you spewed out with terror.

“Miss Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton.” – Sherlock tried to intervene, but you had no ears for it. – “Y/n!” – he shouted loudly, catching for sure your attention. He took a deep breath to compose himself. – “Your brothers will not end your precious and beautiful life.” – he reassured you. – “I…” – he took another breath. – “It might not to be too late. If I escort you home now, you could be home without anyone knowing.

It is still early. Very early as no noblemen is yet awake.” – he explained with a suggestion. It took you a few seconds to let it sink in. – “Can I? Will it be effective?” – you asked. Sherlock nodded, plucking your hand from beside your body. – “It will. If you trust me.” – he said, staring down at you. – “I trust you.” – you breathed out, your body almost drawn to be in contact with his. He brought your hand up, drawing circles with his thumb. – “Tea shall be for another time.” – he spoke losing himself in your gaze.

“Pity…” – you whispered drawing your head nearer to his. Sherlock was tempted to lean in as well and touch your lips. Yet he held back, knowing time was of the essence. – “We must leave Miss Bridgerton.” – he said, moving away. You nodded, following him downstairs. Out of his home. Sherlock walked you up to his carriage, assisting you inside. – “Bridgerton estate.” – he told the footman before joining you in the carriage.

He sat across from you. The memories from last night slowly slipping through. How you held his hand. Him resting his head on your shoulder, yet also the other parts. Where you had to shove him in the carriage as he was beyond himself. Drowsy from alcoholism. It made you move your hands between your thighs in the folds of your dress. Flustered of last nights ride. Sherlock briefly looked at you before turning his gaze away to outside.

Not wanting to embarrass you or himself in any matter. He truly felt ashamed for acting like such a fool in your presence. He hoped you wouldn’t think any less of him. – “Miss Bridgerton I…” – he started, feeling the need to explain his last night behavior. He kept his next words in seeing you had raised your hand. – “My lord, an explanation is not in order. You would’ve had your reasons. All I care about is that you are well.” – you told him.

Sherlock smiled, wondering how you could keep surprising him. – “You are a remarkable lady Miss Bridgerton.” – he complimented. – “Do believe me that you hold a special place in my heart.” – he moved a hand to his chest with a comforting nod. It made you bashful, warming up. – “As do you.” – you whispered, turning your head for if you stared any longer at him, you might catch fire.

Your heart started to thump louder when the carriage rode into your street. The anxiety of sneaking back into the house, drumming loudly in your chest. The carriage came to a stop, making you take a deep breath. – “Shall I escort you to the door?” – Sherlock asked. You shook your head. – “This is mine to do alone.” – you replied, moving closer to the door of the carriage. So did Sherlock. – “I look forward to that tea.” – he told you. – “So do I.” – you answered.

The door opened as Sherlock gave you his hand, helping you out. You stepped away from the carriage, looking back at him. Sherlock kept staring, not wanting to leave yet. You turned round, taking a few steps when the door opened. – “Y/n Y/m/n Bridgerton!” – Anthony called out, rushing out of the door. Followed by Benedict and Colin. It had startled you, making you drop down, sitting crouched. Sherlock’s eyes widened at the sight of your brothers.

He signaled to his footman to take a leave. The carriage took off just before Benedict could reach it and open the door. He had run past Anthony towards the carriage, ready to pull him out. – “Don’t think I didn’t see you Sherlock!” – Benedict shouted with a warning finger. Anthony grabbed you by the arm, pulling you up roughly. – “Inside!” – he ordered, dragging you along.

He dragged you to father’s old study, followed by Colin and Benedict. – “Where have you been?!” – he shouted, setting you down on the chair. You wanted to answer, but closed your mouth when he set his hands on the chair’s railing, staring down with a scowl. – “Disappearing into the night, wandering the streets! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was!” – he said loudly. – “Not to mention what you were doing at Sherlock’s!” – Colin interfered. – “I wasn’t…” – you said in defense.

“So what? You slept on the streets is that it Y/n?” – Benedict called out; arms crossed. – “No!” – you replied. – “So you were with him?” – Benedict answered setting his hands on the desk. – “Yes but…” – you said, your brothers scoffing loud in agony and frustration. – “Nothing happened if that is what you fear.” – you told them. – “I stumbled upon him and brought him home. I didn’t mean to fall asleep there, but I assure you nothing has happened that could ruin my reputation. Our reputation.” – you made clear.

“That is not the point Y/n!” – Anthony said, grabbing you by the arms, pulling you out of the chair. – “You went out alone in the dark! If you were in anyway harmed? I…I” – he squeezed your arms tighter. – “I do not require another month of mourning Y/n!” – he said loudly. You nodded softly. – “Apologies… I wasn’t thinking.” – you responded. – “Clearly!” – Colin pointed out. The bitterness in his voice made you regret everything in an instant.

Anthony let go of you, looking away. – “This has not come to an end yet! You will face the consequences of your actions.” – he warned you. You tried looking at your brothers, but they avoided your gaze. Truly disappointed in you. With nothing else to do but apologize and beg for forgiveness, you lowered your head. – “I am deeply sorrowed.” – you said.

You walked past Anthony who couldn’t even give you a look. Benedict too did not grant you a look. Arms crossed as he forced himself to not look upon you. You moved past him nearer to Colin, who kept looking at the ground. When you attempted to meet his gaze, he turned his posture, back towards you. Deeply saddened, you left the study, making your way upstairs to have a cry in your room.

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