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muchosbesitos · 7 months

Text

treat her better

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

warnings: unprotected p in v (be smart 🤨), semi public sex, oral (f and m receiving), choking, smut, and angst

author’s note: hope you all enjoy <3 other woman pt 2 should be out by tmr or the day after 🫡

word count: 4.1k

Your relationship with Miguel was nothing short of difficult when it started, given that he was so detached from the Spider Society after the loss of his daughter. He was the definition of "all work and no play", coming to his office earlier than everybody else and being the last to leave and always rejecting to go out with the group out for drinks. Apart from distancing himself socially, he always found a way to distance himself from you specially at work, pairing you with someone else for missions. You'd given up on trying to form a friendship with Miguel after constant ignoring from him, seeing it as a pointless task.

One night, however, you were surprised to see him actually show up for drinks with you, Peter, and Jess. you figured that Peter probably had pestered him until he finally snapped and agreed, considering he didn't look all too pleased to be spending some time away from HQ. "Miguel, my man! Come, we'll get you set up with some beer," Peter greeted him, waving him to the table as some people around you all turned to look at the screaming man. Miguel shuffled uncomfortably to the table, the realization that the only seat available was between you and Jess hitting you hard. The scent of his cologne overpowered your nostrils, a little part of you surprised that he'd bothered to put this much effort into coming out tonight.

"Girl, you should find someone to spend time with tonight. I mean, when's the last time you got laid?" Jess asked you as she took a sip of her water, the topic of your dating life coming up sooner than you expected. "And you're sure that sleeping with some random man you met a bar is the best way to go?" miguel asked as he drank his beer, his voice more gruff than usual. "Would be better than the stick you have up your ass," you muttered, trying to ignore the way Miguel turned to look at you. You weren't one to shoot back at Miguel’s retorts but you were growing tired by the way he seemed to judge you for everything. From the way that you handled your missions now to where you met men. Luckily for you, Peter came back from the bathroom and started talking about what Mayday had accomplished today.

After a while of talking, you and Miguel were left alone since Jess was taking care of a crying Peter outside. As the two of you sat in silence, you couldn't help but steal a couple glances at Miguel, noticing how handsome he looked in the black button down he had on. "You should take a picture, it'll last longer," he spoke up after a while, his eyes boring into you as he did. You rolled your eyes at his retort, being reminded of the reason why'd you never be stupid enough to go after him. "God, you're such an asshole," you responded and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at how uncreative you'd been with the insult.

"Tell me, do you still think i'm asshole?" He purred in your ear after he locked the bathroom door. Even with his cock inside of you, he still found a way to get under your skin. You pushed your hips against his, eager to find some type of friction but your movements were quickly stopped when Miguel placed his hands on your hips. "So impatient," he whispered, his breath causing shivers all over your arms. You knew what he wanted you to do, he wanted you to put your pride aside and beg for him but you didn't want to relent. "This would be much easier if you just did what I told you," he told you, a small chuckle escaping from his lips when he saw your defenses start to weaken. He rolled his hips slowly, not enough to please you but just enough to have you wanting more. "Fine. Please just fuck me," you muttered through gritted teeth, already hating yourself for complying.

"See, now we're making progress. Unfortunately, that's not good enough. Beg like you mean it, chiquita," he responded, a small smirk tugging on his lips. You looked up at the mirror, wanting to punch his perfect face but you decided to comply once more. "Miguel, please. I need it," you whined, letting out a soft moan as he thrust his hips once more. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He teased once more before he set a consistent pace. You hated yourself for submitting to him, in a bar bathroom to top it off, but the way he fucked you made you push those thoughts aside. His balls slapped against your thighs as your back arched while you held against the sink, your fingers rubbing your clit eagerly.

"Hey, are you in here?" Jess called out, knocking on the door and your eyes widened. You wanted to speak up and tell her yes, but you were more worried about letting out a loose moan. "You're gonna have to answer her," Miguel whispered tauntingly as he slowed down his pace. "Y-Yeah! I'm here," you called out to Jess, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. "I'm gonna go home, do you need a ride?" Jess asked, being the protective friend as always and you almost felt guilty for being in this circumstance. "No, I'll t-text you when i get home," you assured her, her footsteps retreating after.

Miguel’s hand went up to your throat, forcing you to look up at yourself in the mirror while he fucked you. Your lipgloss was all tainted from the angry makeout session you had with Miguel earlier and your mascara was rolling down your cheeks. "So pretty taking my cock," he whispered in your ear, his thrusts unrelenting as your walls squeezed around him. He squeezed at your throat gently, your cunt gushing all around his cock and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "Should've known mi chiquita's into choking," he teased you, his other hand gripping your hips tightly. You let out a loud moan when his cock brushed up against your g-spot only for Miguel to shush you. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear you, hm? Now go ahead and rub your clit for me," he told you, the hand around your throat tightening up slightly.

Your orgasm approached you quickly, your release coating Miguel’s cock as he fucked you through it. He let out a small hiss as your walls clamped around his cock once more, his cum painting your walls white. He pulled out his cock a couple seconds later, grabbing a napkin to clean himself up without giving you a second glance. You were unsure of why you expected Miguel to act differently after you were done, but you couldn't help but feel upset at how quick he had left. You fixed up your lips and wiped away at the mascara dripping from your cheeks, trying to hide your disappointment as you walked out the bar.

Miguel, to no one's surprise, went back to ignoring you during work. You wished that it didn't bother you as much as it did, but a part of you still felt some type of longing towards him. You came back from your mission, staggering through the Society hallways as you headed toward the infirmary. The one time that miguel had spoken to you recently was to tell you to take someone else on the mission, but you decided to defy his orders. You removed the drenched cloth that you'd pressed against the gash as you leaned against the counter, throwing it in the sink. "I told you to take somebody, damn it!" You heard his voice before he came in, his nostrils flaring once he did. "It wasn't that bad, it's just a cut," you tried to downplay the situation despite the stinging pain you felt every time you moved.

You had finished up with cleaning up the gash to notice that Miguel was still standing there, his face contorted in a deep frown. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just I can't stand to lose you," he told you, your eyes widening as you looked up to make sure you'd heard him right. "I mean the society can't stand to lose you, as a collective," he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You pursed your lips and nodded, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were. You were about to leave when Miguel grabbed your arm, stopping you from grabbing the door knob.

"I know I've been acting like even more of an asshole after the bar, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve that. Can I take you out to make up for it?" He asked you, your mouth dropping a bit in surprise. "Like to hook up?" You asked him, unsure of what to make of the situation. "No, like a date. I've been meaning to ask you on one but i've chickened out. You obviously don't have to," he responded, completely taking you by surprise. Even though you had multiple questions running through your mind, the main one being 'why?', you decided to agree on going out with him.

Miguel took you to a restaurant he'd discovered in Queens one day, the atmosphere surprisingly pleasant for what part of town you were in. As the two of you shared a meal, you couldn't help but feel Miguel’s gaze on you once more. "Is there something on my face?" You asked him, a little embarrassed but he let out a small chuckle. "No. I just haven't taken the time to really look at your eyes. They're really beautiful under this lighting," he responds, taking a sip from his Coke. "You should cut them up and put them in a jar. Look at them everyday," you responded, using the same strategy he had at the bar. "I would but they look so much prettier when they're attached to your face," he responded, clearly amused by your statement.

The rest of the night was full of playful banter and teasing between the two of you, never a dull moment. Despite all the ways that miguel had found to piss you off and the constant avoiding he'd done, you found yourself wanting to know more and more about him as he shared. He offered you his coat once you two had left the restaurant, giving you a small kiss on the cheek before you two started the walk back home. "I really liked hanging out with you, chiquita. Would you like to go on another date?" He asked you once he escorted you to your room at the society, a hopeful smile on his face. "I'd love to," you responded, grabbing his shoulder and stood up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek.

After that, you and Miguel found time to go on more dates and you couldn't help but fall in love with him a bit more with every bit that he shared. He was very easy to talk to when he wasn't agitated or annoyed, and he seemed to remember all the small details that you shared with him. He wasn't one for big romantic gestures, but he conveyed his emotions with every date that he took you on, treating you like you were the only person worth spending time with. Even members at the society had started to comment on how happy the two of you seemed together, Peter claiming that he knew this was bound to happen.

The first time that you and Miguel had sex as a couple was a complete 180 from the dusty, sticky bar bathroom. He'd decorated the room with some battery-powered candles and put some flowers on the nightstand to provide the perfect atmosphere. He laid you down on the bed when you came into the room, taking it slow as he kissed you. His hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it as his mouth completely invaded yours, taking as much as he could. His tongue and yours moved in perfect synchrony, soft moans escaping from your lips as he did. His lips moved down to your neck, leaving a couple open-mouthed kisses before biting down, wanting to mark you as much as possible. He was careful not to inject you with his venom as his fangs grazed through your skin, his tongue soothing the sting that his teeth had left.

He took his time undressing you, letting out a whistle as he saw the red lingerie you had put on just for him. "You look so pretty like this," he murmured against your skin, his hands moving down to your breasts. His hands lightly kneaded your tits through the bra, sometimes squeezing and tugging at them just so he'd feel them pebble up through your bra. He took it off after teasing your tits for a while, his mouth instantly attaching itself to the right one as he began his attack. His tongue ran over the pebbled nub while his hand massaged the other one, letting out a small chuckle at how you were squeezing your thighs already. Your hands instantly flew to his hair, tugging lightly as he bit down on the soft flesh, giving you a couple matching hickeys.

His fingertips hooked on your waistband before he slowly started to slip your panties off, putting them in his pocket for later use. He pressed small kisses on your thighs, spreading them wider as he got closer to your cunt. He bit down on the inside of your thigh, your hand instantly reaching down to grip his hair. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he whispered before he started to slurp on the juices clinging to your folds. You let out a moan as his tongue sucked and slurped at your pussy, Miguel was eating you out like a man starved. You started grinding your hips against his face in hopes to get more friction but he pushed your legs down, keeping an iron grip on your thighs. "Be patient, corazón."

Miguel let out a small groan as your pussy clamped around his finger, barely open enough to take just one. He slowly started pumping it in and out of you, your soft whimpers filling his ears as he did. His mouth went over to your clit, giving it a couple kitten licks before flicking the neglected nub. Once he came to the realization that your pussy had opened up a bit more, he pushed a second finger in and curled them upwards to hit your g-spot with every pump he did. "Mig! Mig!" You moaned out, unable to say anything else as his fingers continued to thrust inside of you. "I know, chiquita. You're taking me so well," he cooed, the vibrations of his voice against your clit sending shivers down your spine. Your toes curled as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, almost at at the point of snapping completely.

You came all around his fingers, your back hitting the bed once you did. He took his fingers out of your cunt and looked directly at you as he sucked off your juices. You took a couple seconds to come down from the euphoria that you'd felt before getting down on your knees in front of Miguel. He let out a small chuckle at your eager display, his hand coming to your cheek as he stroked it gently. "Qué bonita," he remarked, his cock twitching a bit in his boxers as he saw your doe eyes looking directly at him. (how pretty) You took your time taking off his boxers as he'd done with you, letting out a soft gasp when his cock hit his stomach.

Your tongue slowly swirled around the red tip, your fingers working the precum that had leaked out all throughout the shaft. Miguel kept his hand on your cheek as you started to suck him off, letting out a small hiss as you ran your tongue down the underside of his cock. You tried to fit him in all in your mouth, but you ended up with tears in your eyes as you gagged on it. "Always so greedy," Miguel commented, his hand on the back of your head as he eased you into it. You settled on taking what you could in your mouth for now and wrapping your hand around the base, both of them working in tandem to give Miguel the pleasure that he deserved.

You took his balls in your mouth, struggling to fit them both in your mouth as your hand stroked his cock, tightening up ever so slightly from time to time. Miguel let out soft moans as you did, his grip on the back of your head tightening up just the slightest bit. You flattened your tongue when he asked you to, your cheeks instinctively hollowing as he started to thrust his cock in your expecting mouth. "You were made for taking this cock, chiquita," he moaned as he started to speed up his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on him as he used your mouth like his own personal fleshlight, the sight just being enough to make him cum.

The cum dribbled down your chin as you struggled to contain it all in your mouth, only swallowing once Miguel allowed you to. He helped you get up from the floor, his hands on your hips as he kissed you, overwhelmed at the combined taste of you and him. "Get on your hands and knees," he told you, his cock already starting to get hard again for round two. You did as he told you, shaking your ass a bit as you waited for him to get on the bed. "Looks like iI'll have to fuck the impatience out of you," he told you before he slowly started to push his cock inside your pussy.

Your hands gripped the sheets as he started to thrust in and out of you slowly, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time. Miguel grabbed your hands, causing you to fall down on your stomach, and held them against your back as his heavy balls slapped against your pussy with every thrust. He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as he saw you wiggle underneath, your face contorted into one of pleasure. "Feels good, nena? Yeah?" He cooed, knowing that you couldn't let out anything but moans of his name at the moment.

You let out a louder moan when you felt one of the ridges of his cock brush up against your g-spot perfectly, your pussy clamping and gushing all over his cock. "Right there, Miguel!" You mewled as you cried onto the pillow, unable to do anything but take it. He sped up with his thrusts, fucking you like a rabbit in heat as he made it a goal to keep it at that angle. His other hand went down to your clit, rubbing small precise circles on it as your pussy clamped around him like a vice. You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly, your vision slowly starting to black out as you squeezed around him tightly.

Miguel came a couple seconds after you did, the part of him that wanted to see you swollen with his children and your tits full of milk fucking the cum back into you. He pulled out slowly, both of you letting out a small hiss as he did. He got both of you dressed and cleaned up before he laid in bed with you, holding you close to his chest as he started to draw small figures on your back with the tip of his talons. You felt a small shiver run down your back as he did but you felt assured that he wouldn't put enough pressure to actually cut you with them. You drifted off to sleep as soon as you closed your eyes, Miguel’s body heat providing you with warmth that no heated blanket could ever compare to.

Eventually after that night, your relationship with Miguel started deteriorating slowly. It started off slowly, with him not giving you small gifts that reminded you of him anymore to just flat out cancelling dates with you. You really tried to be understanding, knowing that he has a duty to the Spider Society and the multiverse, but you craved the warmth of just having your boyfriend around. It felt like he didn't need to put any effort now that he'd gotten to be with you, almost like he was reassured by the fact that you wouldn't leave him. The change in your mood was noticed by most of the members at the Society, most of them making up theories as to why you looked so upset all the time.

"Hey girl, what's going on?" Jessica approached you, sitting across the table as you ate your empanada. "Nothing's going on. How's it going with the baby?" You tried to deflect away from her question but the look on her face was telling you that she wouldn't allow it. The two of you stayed silent for a couple seconds, just looking at each other until one broke first. "It just feels like Miguel stopped putting in the effort into our relationship, like it didn't matter once we had sex. And I keep making up excuses for every time that he ends up not showing up to our dates but I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," you confided in her, her eyes softening up as you finished speaking. This was why you didn't want to share your problems, you didn't want to get that look of pity.

"Look, Miguel may be my friend and all but I've gotta tell you, he's a serious workaholic with no idea how to prioritize what's important to him. If this continues, you'll just end up making more and more excuses for him and you'll end up unhappy. Just wait out to see what happens for a little bit longer before you make any rash decisions though," she offered a bit of advice, rubbing your shoulder as she left. You took her words into consideration, knowing that she had a point but you couldn't help feeling like you were betraying Miguel by ending things.

As you waited in the couch of your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment when Miguel had failed to show up once more. You were starting to fall asleep when the bright flashing lights from the portal woke you, Miguel’s tall frame looming over you. "Sorry I couldn't make it. I got busy with taking care of an anomaly," he told you and you didn't have in you to argue anymore, so you simply nodded. "It's okay, Miguel," you told him despite the pain you felt in your chest as you looked at him. "I’ll make up to you, I promise," he told you, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead before walking off to the bedroom.

You called off the following days from work, wanting to clear your mind far from Miguel as you considered if this was truly what you wanted from a relationship. While the idea of leaving Miguel behind you was painful, you couldn't help but wonder if you were only sticking around for the memories. If it was because of wishful thinking that he'd come around to being the sweet, loving boyfriend he'd once been to you. You decided to call Miguel over that night to see if you could try to talk things out with him, how your relationship could be better.

"Look, just because you took time off work doesn't mean that everyone has the damn luxury to skip out whenever they want. Now, what did you call me over about?" Miguel asked you once he arrived at your apartment, his attention still on that stupid gizmo. You quickly came to the realization as you really took the time to look at him for the first time in a while that this relationship would never be a priority to him and that you'd been stupid enough to hope that he would change. "Well? I was in the middle of a briefing," he told you, tapping his foot on the floor expectedly as he folded his arms. You kept your voice even as you spoke the next sentence, not wanting to end on a bad note with him by yelling.

"I want to break up with you, Miguel."

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biteofcherry · 9 months

Note

Eva, I am sorry to inform you that this guy:

Is not amused by your bratty behavior, not at all, honey, and he thinks that maybe he needs to find something better to do with that smart mouth of yours. 👀

Bratty? Me? 😇 I think Andy's been too stressed with work and in fear of him suffering a heart attack I simply did my best to defuse the tension and make him relax. Like a good, loving girl that I am 😌

Charm and defuse

Andy Barber x female reader

summary: You thought it was a great idea to pick your husband from office after watching him work so hard for the past few weeks. Andy was so tense, coming back home late each night. So really, surprising him should make him feel a little better, right? Well...

warnings: established relationship; Dom/sub undertones; possessive Andy Barber; smut-t-y bits ahead;

You feel a little bad.

Mostly embarrassed. And giggly.

There's a champagne hiccup, too.

And feeling bad, yes. The bad part is important. Especially when Andy's face clouds with that stormy look, muscle in his jaw ticking as he stares you down.

He shouldn't be staring you down, you think. You're his cute, beloved wife and you came here to make him happy. You almost frown at him, but remember that Andy's hand gets heavier when you frown at him.

Well, sometimes you do it on purpose, because the sting of his slap can feel amazing.

Something tells you now wouldn't be the right time to aggravate him further. You're in enough trouble as it is. Not your fault, truly, but better not point that out.

Pity that your mouth doesn't cooperate with the tiny non-drunk particle in your otherwise tipsy brain.

"Don't glare. It's your fault." You blurt. And frown. Oops.

Andy arches a single eyebrow as he takes a step forward. He moves quietly, yet each step feels like it thunders along with your heartbeat. Which stopped for a few seconds when Andy came into his office.

Your plan was to come to Andy's office in the evening, so you could surprise him after his last meeting and perhaps be a little naughty on his big, polished desk.

Which is why you came in nothing but lingerie under your cobalt blue coat and with a bottle of champagne - some expensive sparkle that Andy kept in the small wine cellar at your house.

But Andy's meeting was running late. Really late. To the point of you getting bored out of your mind.

So you opened the bottle. A few sips wouldn't harm anyone and you'd be more relaxed to make a sexy pose on Andy's office couch to welcome him when he returned.

Half a bottle later he did return.

And you were spread on his couch in nothing but lingerie and jewelry, sucking a finger into your mouth when Andy walked in.

With three other man right at his back...

You're not sure if he was more pissed that those men saw you like that, or that you cursed and giggled and waved your fingers at them.

He barked out something harsh to them and closed the door to his office (more like slammed them). Andy's eyes never leave your form, even as you stumble from your sprawled-like-a-whore position to a more lady like.

"Explain, please," Andy slowly takes off his suit jacket, "how is it my fault that my wife flashed a body that belongs to me to other men and downed half of the bottle of Krug that I saved for our wedding anniversary?"

He drapes his jacket over the back of a guest chair and starts rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Which makes your brain sidetrack and your thighs clench.

"Maybe if you weren't so busy with a boring meeting, you'd get to your wife sooner and do something about all this!" You gesture at yourself and pout.

"Oh, I'm about to do something about all this." Andy's voice is a snap of leather, sending shivers down your spine at the though of that potential outcome.

"Okay!" You jump up, swaying slightly as the bubbles fizzle in your head again.

You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your panties, about to tug them down your legs, when Andy's fingers clench around your wrists and pull your hands away.

"You're not getting the part you like, honey," his breath is a hit, cruel tease against the shell of your ear.

"Not until I've had my fill."

He twists your arms behind your back and binds them with his tie. Then he's pushing on your shoulder, forcing you to kneel down. Sliding a foot between your knees, he kicks them wider apart.

Keeps his shoe dipped right under your clothed pussy, too.

"You downed that champagne so eagerly and spread yourself like a cute little slut-" Andy tilts your chin up with one hand, unfastening his pants with the other- "You will swallow me as eagerly and rub yourself on my shoe like a good girl."

When you don't react, too mesmerized with the sight of his beautiful, thick cock springing free, Andy squeezes your chin.

"Won't you?" He asks, holding your gaze.

"Yes, Sir." You wet your lips and grin. "I like the taste of you more than champagne, anyway."

Andy snorts, but eases his grip on your chin and instead cups your cheek as he guides his cock between your parted lips.

"Prove it, brat," he challenges, holding the back of your head as he pushes himself down your throat.

When you start rocking your hips against his foot while tonguing the underside of his dick, Andy groans in relieved bliss.

Lord knows your presence is always what he needs for his day to be better, even when you're being mouthy or getting into trouble. He loved your surprise visit and if it wasn't for the unexpected witnesses, he'd take your giggly, tipsy ass for a ride on his desk - just like he knows you've been dreaming.

But other men saw the treasure that you were and since Andy can't punch them and gouge their eyes out, he has to take it out on you.

Besides, it wouldn't do good if he didn't punish you for being careless.

Sensing your rhythm increasing, Andy stills with his cock halfway in your mouth and taps his shoe against your inner thigh. You gaze up at him, swallowing a hum around his length.

"You don't get to cum." He commands and your pupils widen.

Your whine resonates along Andy's cock, but you slow the motion of your hips. You're not particularly happy with this punishment, but you guess you'd be even less happy with the repercussions for your disobedience.

Then again...

"Don't even think about it," Andy pats your cheek. "Disobey and you won't be cumming for a month."

"Be good," he caresses you with the back of his hand and pushes deeper into your throat, "and I'll reward you for being my good girl."

"My good." He starts fucking your face harder. "Thoughtful. Frisky. Wife. Oh fuck baby! That's it! Keep going. Keep-"

It takes all remnants of your will power not to orgasm when Andy does. It's fucking hard to do, because the grip on your head and the twitching of his cock on your tongue is a great turn on.

Maybe Andy's conditioned your body to react this way to the mere taste of him, but you have to lift your hips completely up from his shoe, because the slightest pressure would undoubtedly tip you over the edge.

Andy pulls out when he's still spurting, smearing last splashes on your chin and cheeks. Then thrusts into your mouth again.

Long minutes later Andy lifts you up on your feet. He unties your hands and helps you into your coat. Your body is still buzzing with need, panties sticking to your slick folds.

He doesn't clean your face and holds your hand in his as he marches you out of his office into his car.

#stargazingfangirl18 #Siri #Andy Barber x reader #Andy Barber x female reader #Andy Barber x you #Andy Barber imagine #charm and defuse

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undead-supernova · 1 month

Text

Masterlist

plot: when you suggest that you and Eddie should quit smoking cigarettes, Eddie struggles to believe in his capabilities. but there's just something about the way you challenge him...

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

important note: this is a one-off of my High Tolerance series! Somehow I can't get enough of Eddie and Weirdo and I can't help but come back to them. (this is six months before Part 1 of the original series!)

warnings: fluffy fluff fluff fluuuuuuuuuuffffff, talking about smoking, a small argument, Southern culture, country music, reader has an accent, (why are Eddie and Weirdo so horny as friends? shouldn't they have known sooner? idiots)

wc: 2.4k

thank yew @strangergraphics for your adorable dividers!!!!

It was unusual, the way it all started.

Just a normal Tuesday with the bitter cold of January and the crowded highways blocked off by unnecessary construction. Honks muffled by the sound of Guns ‘N Roses’ “Welcome To The Jungle” coming through your speakers. You were clad in a black turtleneck and jeans. Eyes lined in black, maroon-lipped. Spiked bracelets and nine shiny rings dappling light around the car.

Eddie was riding shotgun, sighing alongside you at how slow the traffic was moving when you first said it.

“I have a proposition.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “A proposition?”

You nodded. “Yeah, and I want you to hear me out.”

“Uh, okay?” he said, unsure as to what was about to come out of your mouth.

“I think we should stop smoking cigarettes,” you stated simply, looking back at the road as you inched forward. “A New Year’s resolution.”

“Nuh-uh,” he said, throwing his hands up, his rings reflecting off yours. “No way. Nope.”

“What! Why not?” you exclaimed, now throwing your hands up before promptly putting them back on the steering wheel.

Eddie had his own reasons, like how he’d been smoking for nearly ten years and the irritation of working at a dealership where rich idiots badgered him for just doing his job. The stress of bills and keeping his music career afloat. Not to mention how fucking sweet a puff of nicotine was whenever he got drunk or cross-faded. Nothing beats that feeling. Even you knew that.

“I just don’t want to.”

“Even if I did it with you?” you asked, voice growing soft.

He looked at you, confusion falling over his features. Your eyes seemed a little solemn, like you were disappointed by his refusal. And it was in your expression that he felt drawn to the idea. Because, yeah, if you actually could stop, maybe he could, too. But…

“We wouldn’t stop smoking weed, you know,” you added, cutting off his thoughts. “Just cut out the cancer sticks.”

“It won’t be as easy for me,” he said, sighing defeatedly. “I, uh, I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“You always doubt your own strength, I swear.” You shook your head. “You’re so smart but so, so stupid sometimes. I say that affectionately, by the way.”

Before Eddie could think about some witty comeback, he heard the sound of the next song starting. It was different from your usual genres. It was the picking of a guitar, all folky and twangy and…

Country.

“What is this?” he asked, eyeing you.

You smirked, cranking the volume up as you started singing along.

“Well, I was raised up beneath the shade of a Georgia Pine

and that’s home, you know

Sweet tea, pecan pie, and homemade wine

where the peaches grow."

Eddie groaned. “Dude, what the fuck is this?”

You merely shook your head, your tone as playful as your expression. “It’s Zac Brown Band, god dammit! Show some respect.”

He was struck by your Southern accent popping up out of seemingly nowhere. And before he could even remotely process that or protest again, you cleared your throat and started screaming.

Not singing. Screaming.

“A LITTLE BIT OF CHICKEN FRIED

A COLD BEER ON A FRIDAY NIGHT

A PAIR OF JEANS THAT FIT JUST RIGHT

AND THE RADIO UUUUUUP!”

“Please turn it off,” Eddie pleaded, dragging his hands down his face. “I think you’re killing me.”

“Nope,” you said simply. “My car, my music. It’s the least you can do when we’re stuck on this highway and you’re refusing to quit smoking without even trying.”

“Oh, come on,” Eddie huffed. “Like it’s that fucking easy.”

“Have you ever tried to stop smoking?”

Eddie thought about it for two, maybe three seconds before feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

There had never been a singular thought given to the idea of quitting. Not once. Smoking was just something he did. There wasn’t much else to it. No secret shame or guilt. No bargaining or grief. No, it was just something he did.

“No,” he admitted, avoiding your eyes.

“At least think about it, okay?”

Eddie nodded before glancing back at you. You continued humming along to the god awful song and tapped the steering wheel, as pretty as ever. And he was surely in love with you. Really, he was. But he thought he was going to explode from how much he hated this song. It wasn’t just the sound, but the lyrics and how you knew every single one.

If he didn’t want a cigarette before, he surely wanted one now.

By the time the bridge hit, you cleared your throat, straightened your posture, and threw up a salute.

Eddie stared at you like you were crazy. “What the—”

“I thank God for my life!

And for stars and stripes

May freedom forever fly, let it riiiiiiing.”

“Oh, I swear to god. I’m losing my mind.”

“Salute the ones who died

The ones that give their lives

So we don’t have to sacrifice

all the things we looooooooooove.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie decided to throw up a quick salute himself. “Aye, aye, boys. Yes, okay,” he sighed. “Can we please change it?”

You nodded then and Eddie was severely grateful to hear the beginning notes to “Rebel Girl” by Bikini Kill.

Thank god.

But you didn’t let up. “You can’t just live in the South for three years and not listen to at least one country song.”

“I did a reaaaally good job up until now.” That made you laugh. “I didn’t know you listened to country.”

“I contain multitudes, Eddie. Multitudes. Layers. Like an onion.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s in my blood. Don’t hate on country music just ‘cause you don’t get it. There’s more out there than just jeans, beer, girls, and tractors.”

“Don’t forget trucks.”

You snorted before exaggerating your accent. “Yeah, and I’ll run you over with one, boy.”

Despite his frustration at the grating music, Eddie stopped itching for a cigarette. No, the desire had disappeared entirely. He was looking at you, all giggles and lighthearted apologies, and couldn’t help but laugh along at how utterly goofy the encounter was.

And once he took a second to think about it, he realized that your accent had bled through the entire song. Your sweet little Southern accent that rarely popped out had been on full display for him and only him. That paired with your eyeliner and your spikes and your lips and your everything. It was…cute. Like, very cute.

You were always just so genuine. It was in the way you just fucking cared about things. How you just wanted to try and how it made him want to try, too. You always knew there was more inside of him than even he knew. How you did it, he couldn’t say.

It was hard to say no to you.

It was hard not to love you.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Let’s do it.”

You gawked at him, rapidly flicking your head back and forth from him to the road as traffic began to finally pick up.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And like every addiction, the first week was the hardest.

If Eddie was sitting, his legs were bouncing. If he had a moment to spare, he was drinking coffee and scarfing Red Vines. Kept a toothpick in his mouth as if it would do anything. Frustration ran down his limbs in shivers that turned into unprovoked anger. It was fucking killing him.

You weren’t doing too hot either. When you called, you complained about a sore jaw from the three packs of wintermint gum you’d gone through. Bitten cheeks and lips. Irritation from anything and everything that came across your path.

So, when you saw each other that weekend, Eddie said flat out, “I don’t wanna quit anymore.”

You dropped your scrubber back into the sink, turning your head to gawk at him in shock. Mouth wide open, showing off a pitiful piece of gum you’d been chewing on for maybe two hours.

“What?”

Eddie shrugged, suddenly intimidated by your gaze. “Don’t you think this is, I don’t know, too much?”

“Too much?” you asked, voice hardening.

“Yeah.”

“Eddie, you haven’t even tried yet.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, that incessant frustration rising up his chest and into his mouth. “I have and it’s not working.”

“You have not!” you argued, placing your hands on your hips. “It’s been a week and, yeah, this is fucking hard. But it’s just temporary. Robin said it takes at least a week or longer for it to, like, detox. Probably longer for us.”

Barking out a bitter laugh, Eddie challenged you. “What if I don’t care what Robin thinks?”

“Then you’re giving up and you’ll spend the next however many years killing your lungs because it was hard for a week.”

“You’re one to talk! You’ve smoked for the same amount of time as me.”

“And yet I’m still fighting for it.”

He watched your chewing seemingly turn aggressive, knowing that you were disappointed in him. And it was actually hurting.

That first flare of guilt hit him then.

“Why do you want me to quit so bad?” he wondered.

“Because I know you can do it!” you exclaimed. “This shit sucks, Eddie. I’m literally gonna lose my mind some time soon. But it’s not forever.”

He rolled his eyes. But he realized it was most definitely a mistake when you stepped forward and put a finger to his chest, eyes locked on yours as your breath seemingly washed over his neck.

“Because after everything I know about you, your past, I know you wouldn’t be here right now if you were someone who gave up. If you didn’t fight just to try to have a better life.” Eddie stayed silent, watching your eyes grow soft. “And if you can get through all of that other shit, you sure as hell can quit smoking cigarettes.”

In that moment, Eddie couldn’t help but love you that much more. You were a challenger, a pusher. But it wasn’t unjustified and it wasn’t excessive. No, you were just a force to be reckoned with. When you knew something to be true, you hardly let up. Some called it stubbornness, but Eddie knew it to be determination.

Oh god, how he loved that about you. How you told him what to do and pushed him to do better.

And, oh god, did he have to try his hardest to stop getting a tiny bit hard thinking about it. This was not the time.

“Fine, I’ll keep trying.”

Your shoulders slumped, clearly exhausted from your argument. Leaned your head on his shoulder and heaved a sigh before stepping back.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll try. But don’t expect me to stop complaining about it.”

“As if I won’t. Hell, I’ll go first. Having an oral fixation sucks,” you admitted.

Eddie’s eyes immediately went to your lips. And, Jesus, even all bitten up and cracked, he wanted nothing more than to kiss you. To call this argument to a close by throwing you up against a wall and devouring you until this bout of irritation dissipated from your bones.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You’re telling me.”

He could’ve sworn your eyes flickered to his, your own lips nearly quirking up into a smirk. And, fuck, did it seem like you were chest-to-chest, all sidled up and ready for the next fight.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked.

“Like what, Weirdo?” he deflected, unable to keep himself from leaning in just a little bit further.

You pressed a finger into his dimples. “Like that.”

What, like I want to kiss you silly and massage your cheeks and then kiss you again and take that gum out of your mouth and make it mine and be gross and stupid? Like I want to say I’m sorry by taking you in this kitchen right now? Like I’m going to lose my mind from how much I fucking love you?

Eddie took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Took a step back.

“I think I’m going crazy.”

“Come on,” you said with a smile. “Let’s go get Taco Bell.”

He smiled back, feeling the heat start to subside from his face. And, most importantly, his dick.

“I could always use a Baja Blast.”

Things weren’t so bad after that first month. Or the second. Or the third.

And by the time you guys hit the six month mark, Eddie didn’t even crave it anymore. If anything, he couldn’t believe how much better his mood was. His chest felt lighter. Head clearer.

For once, life felt good without a cigarette.

He noticed the same in you, how smiley you were at any given moment. No need to duck out to get a quick smoke in or beg for one after a crying spell. It was like a weight was lifted off of you. He couldn’t believe that such a small thing made up of tobacco, paper, and cotton could have such a big impact on, well, everything.

In the past, you were always looking forward to a cigarette. So, the two of you devised a plan. Every week or every other week, you and Eddie would go to Jailbait Hemp and try out a new product. Split the cost. Go find something to do. Just let loose and see where the day took you.

Today you were at Piedmont Park, passing a joint back and forth as people filtered in and out. You were lying on your backs, a blanket beneath your figures. Both barely able to see each other through the blinding sun because, predictably, no thought to grab your sunglasses.

“We should try that THC syrup next Thursday,” you suggested.

Eddie turned his head, squinting back at you in the sun’s glare. Tried to see your pretty face the best he could. Sneaked another glance at how breathtaking you were in your sundress.

“Oh, yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah, why not?”

Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

“Where do you wanna go to try it out?”

Summer lasted longer in the South. You’d have the Georgia heat to yourselves until mid-October. Eddie had no idea what you’d do until then. Drink, laugh. Play games, go to karaoke. Work.

Maybe things could change. Maybe he’d even get the courage to ask you out one of these days. It was funny what one could do with all of the money they once set aside for packs of cigarettes.

It was July and Eddie was in love. Had been for nearly four years.

And some part of him knew as he watched you search the clouds that he’d continue to fall harder every single day.

He knew exactly where to take you next week.

“No clue,” he lied, smiling to himself. “But it’ll be a damn good time.”

#Eddie Munson x you #Eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #best friend!Eddie x reader

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reborrowing · 4 months

Text

that alien thing I was thinking about. I don't usually do epistolary writing, but this gets the point across without spilling all the alien details so I can come back tell the rest from a more normal human POV if I want to come back to it.

~550 words

cw: dehumanization, alien abduction, corporate fuckery

Trash > Observational Lab NS02 Notes!

Timestamped 683800:1101

Looks like the lab will be seeing some use sooner than we thought. Pamza had their crew charting an unoccupied system near the Eysina jump and found an active biosphere in the middle of it. A probe didn’t detect any sort of faelar or other artificial networks or anything that would suggest any kind of civilization, so they’re sending the field team to touch down and see about getting us some wildlife samples.

In the meantime, I get to recalibrate allllll our containment tanks because somehow no one anticipated the exact conditions required to house some random xeno-bugs.

Timestamped 683810:1352

So the new alien things are fuzzy and actually kind of cute! I figured the field guys would just find a couple of 'pod things, those awkward things that evolve early in a planet’s life cycle.

But I overheard someone saying the sponsor’s pleased, some of these things might even be marketable? Not my concern I guess, but the labs are full and I am busy!

Timestamped 683809:1112

Some of these species should not have been housed together. Zoc is pissed at the field guys. Me too, after spending all afternoon cleaning out that tank. These things are um, tightly packed under all that fur.

I watched Zoc do an exploratory xenonecropsy which was…not something I was expecting to get out of this apprenticeship. I don’t know how I feel about it. It’s good experience, probably? But I think I prefer to work with living things.

Timestamped 683811:1089

Some of these things are smart for their size! I guess they’re probably not small relatively and life on their planet found some way to cope with the size limitations, but it’s still weird to see. They're pretty social too. I think some of them have started recognizing different lab members.

There’s this one that I think even likes me. It’s kind of a stabby little thing, hand-sized, fluffy. It trots right up to my hand when open the tank and climbs up to my crest to sleep while I sit down to prep instruments for later. It’s adorable. If the Sponsor does send a team back to that planet, I’ll probably buy one of my own once they’re available

Timestamped 683822:4011 [recovered file]

Something happened in the lab today. I don’t think anyone else saw. I was cycling some water for the twoleggers, one of them almost got out and—I don’t know. I don’t think basic animal intelligence would have thought to do that. But we don’t have any kind of ambassadors on board, never mind the specialists needed for first contact and translating and…oh.

I probably just misinterpreted what I saw. Maybe I just need to review my xenocognition theory. I’m wrong. I'm sure of it. I’m just an apprentice. I don't know things.

Timestamped 683822:4043 [recovered file]

I can’t remember if they monitor search queries. I bet they can do that. It’s their ship. Their tech. I tried to figure out what I'm supposed to do if I think we accidentally found alien life that's...Can they see these files? fuck.

Timestamped 683827:4121 [recovered file]

It knows. The little twolegger knows I know, it knows and I don’t know how to tell it that I can’t do anything for it without sentencing it to death. It's going to hurt itself. Or someone else is going to notice if it keeps trying to prove itself and then they'll sentence it to death.

I have to make it stop.

#the timestamps are basically meaningless don't read into them lol #g/t #g/t writing #my writing #not sure if i will come back to this because i dont have any Plot Solutions #but i do have some interaction Thoughts #and wrote this up last night bc i kept coming back to it #amwt

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tommarvoloriddlesdiary · 1 year

Text

“I’ll admit,” Percy Weasley starts. He’s hardly paying attention to anything outside the documents he’s perusing, throwing occasional glances at the small, constantly updating graph shimmering in the air beside him. “When Granger came to me with this idea, I thought she had finally gone mad.”

He snorts to himself and flips to another page, “It’d be about time, honestly. Dating my brother really should have done her in sooner. But Granger is smart. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. So, even though I thought the time had finally come to declare the one sane addition to my family, insane—I gave her the benefit of the doubt.”

Someone off camera clears their throat, “Mr Weasley, could you clarify what idea Ms Granger had that you’re referring to?”

Percy looks up with furrowed brows. He tilts his head and asks, “What do you mean? It’s obvious.”

“It’s obvious to us but not to the audience.”

“Ah,” Percy nods sagely. “I understand. Right. I am referring to Hermione Granger’s idea of filming a documentary about life inside the Ministry of Magic in an attempt to raise recruitment across various departments, of course.”

“The ministry gets a bad rap,” Hermione Granger says while walking briskly down the halls of Level One. The cameras jostle as their operators and the rest of the crew rush to keep pace. “People think we’re secretly dark. They think that underhanded things are happening in the underbelly of our ministry. They think we don’t have their best interests at heart,” she sighs, dismayed.

“As Junior Undersecretary to the Minister, I oversee many finer details of our departments here. And, lately, overall interest to work for the ministry has suddenly declined.”

She pauses before a door. It causes a small traffic jam as the crew suddenly stop with her. With one hand on the knob, she turns to address the camera head-on, “Each year, more and more students graduate from Hogwarts. The wixen population in England has flourished, but we’re not seeing an influx of CVs.”

A parchment bird flaps its folded wings, gliding its way past the heads of crew members, and lands on the little bridge Hermione’s wrist makes, pecking at her sleeve for attention. She glances down at it and plucks the bird up; her magic smoothes out the folds until all that’s left is a small piece of blue parchment with a brief note scrawled in decidedly messy handwriting.

She reads it as she continues, “That’s where you all come in. PR is Percy’s job, but with the Minister’s upcoming reelection push, he hasn’t got the time to spare. So I’m counting on this inside look on the ministry to soften our public image and make us more approachable…,” her voice trails off as she finishes reading.

Hermione’s head lifts slowly and warily. “As an aside, please do not speak with the Head Auror until further notice,” she stresses and enters the doorway leaving the crew behind.

“Welcome to the DMLE. Can I help you?” The reception Auror frowns, “Wait. Is that a camera? This is a restricted area with highly confidential—“

A crew member holds up a document.

“Oh.” A quick spell is cast over the parchment, and all seems to be in order as the Auror simply shrugs, “Well, I can’t argue with that. What do you want, then?”

“We were looking for the Head Auror?”

“Head Auror Potter?” There is a sudden disquiet from the crew. Potter couldn’t mean Harry Potter, right? “He’s in T6. Follow the arrows, and don’t touch anything, please.”

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Head Auror Harry Potter, stands casually in a training hall. He’s overseeing the strict regimen for the sparse few new Aurors. His robes are draped over his shoulders and not quite worn in accordance with uniform regulations, but no one has the guts to point it out.

He easily replies to the quietly asked question, “Hermione doesn’t want you speaking with me because she thinks nothing shifty is happening in the ministry. She also wants this documentary to go off without a hitch.”

Before he continues, Harry carefully shrugs, “Whereas I’m the opposite, really.”

Silence lingers before someone is brave enough to ask, “The opposite, Head Auror Potter-sir?”

Harry catches the eyes of the cameraperson who spoke up—they all flinch with the intensity of his stare—but he smiles softly and says, “Yeah. And just Harry is fine if you wouldn’t mind.”

A look is shared between the crew. Of course no one is ever going to address Head Auror Harry Potter as just Harry. That’s ludicrous.

There’s a brief moment where it looks like Harry is contemplating how to word his following sentence delicately, but his straightforward attitude seems to win out.

“Our Minister is a Dark Lord in disguise,” the unsaid ‘duh’ is loud and jaw-dropping even over the sounds of training spellfire, “so anyone with half a brain cell would be smart to keep away. And if we’re going to have a whole documentary trying to prove otherwise, I plan on doing everything I can to stop it.”

The camera slowly zooms in on Harry’s pleased little grin. And no one knows what to say for a long, long while.

Ron Weasley adjusts himself in the tall folding chair the crew set up in the Auror Break Area. He’s holding a small bag of crisps and diligently makes his way through it before straightening up in his seat.

His proper posture lasts all of three seconds before his shoulders droop like he’s carrying the weight of the world. Finally, Ron takes a deep breath, leans forward in his chair and cups a hand over one side of his mouth, preparing to whisper.

He looks very concerned and a touch manic as he says, “Harry is obsessed with the Minister.”

The Minister for Magic is unavailable for an interview at this time.

Draco Malfoy scoffs outside the Minister’s main offices. “Of course. The one time we finally get to have cameras following us around, and it’s for a bloody hiring campaign.”

A crew member mumbles a question off lens, and his eyebrows raise. Draco’s smile is wide with amusement when he says, “Oh? Haven’t you heard? Potter hates the Minister.”

He sets aside the Witch Weekly he’s reading to give the crew his undivided attention. “Truly, you don’t understand until you witness it first hand. Potter can be a bit of an idiot, a Gryffindor in the worst of ways, a bit of a hot head, a complete disgrace to the ministry, a—“

Someone clears their throat.

“—Potter is a disagreeable person by nature. He was probably born that way. But even I know that Potter has never hated someone as much as he hates the Minister. And you think it’s obvious now, but when they’re both in a room together,” Draco pauses to shake his head and lean back. His face takes on a dreamy sort of look like he’s lost in a memory, “the tension is absolutely ridiculous.”

The crew hasn’t seen any blatant hatred from either party. Though they’ve yet to meet the Minister, and looking back on Head Auror Harry Potter’s pleased face, maybe they should be a little more concerned.

Draco suddenly starts out of his daze, “Everything between them had been fine for years, supposedly. But then something happened the day Potter was invited to the manor to meet with Father and the Minister, and since then, he’s barely refrained from pursuing all-out war.”

The camera cuts to Lucius Malfoy. He crosses his legs and grips his cane with unexpected force.

“I refuse to think upon that dreadful day without copious amounts of alcohol,” he says and declines further comment.

“Strangely enough,” Draco ponders. “I don’t think the Minister really minds it.”

He reaches for his magazine once again, “Potter is probably like a small yapping crup to the Minister. Amusing and pitiable with floppy ears and a wagging tail.”

The crew waits silently for Draco to continue, but he seems to have gotten bored of the conversation and forgotten they are here.

“Harry’s relationship with the Minister before?” Ron asks. He’s still in the break area, and it seems he never left.

He scratches lightly at his cheek in thought. “Well, I guess Harry didn’t really talk to him much? They only saw each other rarely. Like during special Wizengamot hearings or ministry parties or for any Auror protection detail the Minister might need while travelling. From what I remember, there weren’t really any complaints. Hermione was more likely to have things to say with the Minister being her direct boss and all.”

A crew member mumbles quietly, “Would you say they were amicable, then, Mr Weasley?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ron shrugs. “They weren’t best mates or anything—Harry would never do that to me anyway—but Harry definitely wasn’t completely bonkers like he is now.”

Sirius Black walks into the room with a mug and halts. “Oh?” His eyes roam over the crew and Ron, “What’s going on in here?"

“Hey, Sirius,” Ron greets with a slight wave. “Don’t mind them; they’re just interviewing everyone about Harry.”

The crew debates whether they should correct Ron and diplomatically decide to see where this leads instead.

Sirius’ head cocks like a dog hearing a squeaking toy. He smiles something mischievous and plotting when he announces, “I happen to be Harry’s godfather.”

The crew quickly pans half their cameras toward Sirius.

“What exactly are you trying to learn about my dear godson?”

Ron snorts, “They want to know why Harry’s obsessed with the Minister.”

The crew really thinks someone should correct them before this gets out of hand. But…

Sirius whistles low and ominous. “I’m guessing you lot haven’t seen the room yet.”

The horror that alights Ron’s face at the mention of it is warning enough. But that doesn’t stop one of the crew members from asking, “What room?”

Pansy Parkinson stands before the alleged room with her hands on her hips.

“Listen to me and listen to me carefully,” she starts. Her tone leaves no space for hemming and hawing, “None of you will be stepping foot into this room. My boss would kill me.”

Ron nods quickly, bobbing his head up and down too many times to count. “She’s right. Harry won’t like it if we go in there. Especially without him.”

“Come on, Parkinson,” Sirius goads, “don’t tell me you’re scared of my little godson. Harry wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

The cameras cut to a scene from earlier this morning. Harry is filmed stunning a buzzing mid-flight fly with terrifying accuracy.

He shakes his head, “You’ve been faster, Harry,” and mumbles on about needing to get back into his twice-daily routine. Whatever that means.

Pansy looks at Sirius like he is dirt beneath her heels. “Black. He has explicitly instructed me that you shouldn’t even be within six metres of this door,” she pulls out her wand, “and that if I saw you, I’d have free reign to neutralise you however I see fit.”

A camera quickly zooms in on Ron, who does quick work of leaving the immediate area. He two-finger salutes the camera crew as he slips out of the hall. He’s gone long before Sirius takes out his wand and spellfire is exchanged.

The crew decide over a few rounds of rock-paper-scissors who will stay to film the impending damage. A sacrifice is chosen and mourned. The rest break off before being caught in the crossfire or killed.

Percy sighs. “I’d like to take this time to remind you all that anything filmed for this documentary that paints the ministry in a bad light and doesn’t pass muster must be vanished or incendioed immediately.”

He pauses to jot something down on a piece of parchment and taps his wand to it, waiting as it arranges into a charming butterfly. When it flutters away, he continues, “The Minister and I may find some value in this idea, but we draw the line at anything potentially harmful to the reelection campaign.”

Percy stands and gathers his things; some additional ministry documents and that shimmery graph float beside him as he walks. “Granger thinks this is solely a recruitment push, but the Minister and I agree that this could also be great exposure to showcase how strong the ministry is under its current leadership.”

He pauses momentarily and speaks slowly and deliberately, “It is imperative that nothing untoward is shown to the public.”

The camera cuts. Sirius and Pansy are battered and bruised, nearly bloody. The floor around them is missing large sections, looking like moon craters or Swiss cheese, and somehow the door to the room still stands untouched.

Pansy blows a strand of hair out of her line of sight. “Sirius Black, you absolute (beep) (beep) of a (beep). I’m going to (beep) you (beep) and leave you out on the streets of muggle London where your body will (beep) (beep) (beep) (beep)—”

The rest of the footage is muted for general audiences.

“In fact.” Percy continues, “I recommend the whole documentary crew avoid the Auror Department altogether.” He shakes his head, “It is a wonder how Head Auror Potter gets anything done. The man is really a saint.”

Percy walks ahead of the crew and into a lift as he quietly mentions, “His numbers speak for themselves, though. It’s no wonder he’s the Minister’s favourite,” and the doors slowly close shut.

Someone from the back of the crew proclaims an eloquent, “What did he just say?”

The Minister for Magic continues to be unavailable for an interview at this time.

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #pov: multiple #my fic #mockumentary au #fic: life inside the ministry of magic #it's still unnamed but if i were to put it out in chapters this would be chapter one #i hope this is fun #i almost feel like i should delete the og post because this is pretty different

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lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit · 1 year

Note

Hi👋♡.

May I request one-shots Serafine Savoy and Nico Savoy with teen fem!Reader (Platonic) the Reader is a delivery girl she helps them all the time and of course they have to get her something for her hard work she do for them.

[ money maybe?]

{Love your blog by the way♡}.

Don't know how this turned into a spin-off, cat episode of something that feels straight out of Peaky Blinders, but here you go!

Get a job, Mother said. The world is changing and girls need to pull their weight, just how I did during the Great War.

However, when Y/N finally got one of course she wasn't too happy.

"An unpaid delivery girl? You could have aimed slightly higher, especially with that mind of yours."

Well, perhaps she wouldn't have been so picky if she realized her daughter didn't have much of a choice in the matter. No one accidentally ran into a criminals hunting ground and got out completely unscathed, in reputation or otherwise. Her own price to pay was becoming an uncompensated errand girl for a couple of no good kitties with sharp gazes, smiles and knives. A lot of knives, and guns too.

The option to refuse wasn't really on the table. That was a couple of months ago now.

Maybe Y/N should have realized sooner something about her job was shadier than she first thought. At first there seem to be nothing amiss. Y/N was asked to post letters, carry tattered and lightly but suspiciously stained clothes to and from the tailors. Small things she had no problem doing for free. They weren't too out of the way either; most of the shops and post boxes were on her way to school.

Her suspicions only really started when she was sent to pick up a suspicious-looking package from a derelict riverside cafe. It was just the one, and she delivered it without a hitch. Looking back she probably should have failed to do so; it would have certainly avoided the fear and stress that came when she was sent on a similar errand the week after.

Then it became every three days and sometimes even twice in one.

Mother was right: Y/N had a good head on her shoulders. She didn't need to peek into the boxes to know what she was carrying was less than legal. She was also well aware that if anything happened to the cargo inside she'd be dead, but she was also smart enough to know she could hand it over to the cops at any time. Who knows, she could end up taking down a major crime ring in St. Louis. She could become a hero!

Or…

She could beat her generously-loaded employers at their own game.

Y/N burst into the hotel suite, waving the letter high in her hand. "Delivery!"

The cloud of smoke hanging around the divans parted, and a carefully manicured, clawed hand beckoned her closer. "Merci, now give it here, cher."

For once, Y/N stayed put. "No."

"No?" The hand cleared the rest of the fog, and Miss Savoy's amber eye watched her, widening.

Those stares didn't scare Y/N anymore, not after working for them for months. She even took a step back. "No."

"Elle se prend pour qui?" Miss Savoy's brother growled, raising himself up from his seat. His cigarette hung limply from the corner of his mouth.

"Nico, laisse-la," Miss Savoy tutted. "Elle a du culot, c'est presque impressionnant."

"I'd like it if you didn't talk behind my back," Y/N bit out.

"And we'd like it if you hand over the letter like the good girl we know you can be."

Again, Y/N held it out of reach. "And I'd like to be compensated."

"Your compensation is us not killin' you for messin' up our gig," Nico pointed out.

"You gangstas might want to think of marking your territory better so a teenager doesn't fuck you up."

"She swears too."

They seemed almost surprised. Y/N decided to skip the rest of the pleasantries.

"Money."

"What?"

"I want money."

Nico and Serafine looked at each other. Then, he smirked. She grinned. They both fell about laughing, leaving a confused Y/N to ping-pong between them and scowl.

"What's so funny?"

They only replied to each other in quick snippets of French she couldn't understand.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"T'as perdu, c'est toi qui paye," Serafine smirked to her brother, again ignoring Y/N's questions.

Nico rolled his eyes and rummaged around in a nearby tin. "Bien joué…"

He held out a wad of cash—and by god it was more than she had ever seen in her life! He was essentially offering her her own small fortune, most of it likely made of blood money.

She didn't take it right away. "What's all this about?"

Nico shook the money in front of her eyes. "Bettin' to see how long it'd take you to man up and ask."

Y/N was dumbfounded. "Ask?"

"For payment."

So, they were saying everything she had done for free, every risk and every broken law…

"All I had to do was ask?!"

Nico cracked a sickening grin. "Yes, cher."

Yes. That was all he said, the only confirmation. She wanted to scream, she wanted to shout, she wanted to take that rifle off the wall and—

She snatched up the money with a frown, shooting daggers from her eyes. She handed over the letter. "I hate you both."

Nico's grin softened. "Hate you too," he said with no real conviction or the previous bit she knew he could give.

Almost as if he was trying to be her friend.

They could try all they liked, but they wouldn't get far.

Not now.

#🦉mod iphiko #lackadaisy #lackadaisy reader insert #lackadaisy & reader #nicodeme savoy #lackadaisy nico #nicodeme lackadaisy #serafine savoy #lackadaisy serafine #oneshot on the rocks #oneshot #aaaaah I'm burning myself out #let's gooo... :')

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forgwater · 2 years

Text

Informant's Curse

Silver Bullet AU -Cater-

Silver Bullet AU by @jackplushie

Enjoy!~

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

Excited chatter, laughter and clinking of glasses fill the bar in a warm and lively atmosphere, like a blanket enveloping you in its comforting embrace.

The Heartslabyul gang seemed to be in high spirits and it was starting to rub off on you too. It was a welcome change since finally there was no fighting, though, you don’t exactly expect the peace to last for very long.

It’s only a matter of time until someone does something to piss off their leader and you really don’t feel like cleaning glass shards off of every imaginable surface tonight.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, but then your eyes land on Cater. He wasn’t at his usual spot at your counter or at their leader’s table… nor was he around anyone else it would seem. Cater opted instead for an empty table in one of the bar’s shadowy corners.

Away from the other’s eyes.

Unusual, you think.

He never sat alone.

You suppose working for the mafia wasn't easy... especially with a boss like the one of Heartslabyul. Information gathering has been Cater's job ever since he joined the gang. And by the time you became the bartender, he was already a regular.

The man was a chronic flirt. Constantly making comments that could be considered suggestive, winking at his “victims” just to fluster them further, compliments flowing off his tongue like honey. Yet it was all for show. Blatant efforts to get as much information out of his targets as possible.

And his behavior wasn't all that different with you either. Though you've rebuffed his advances on multiple occasions, he was yet to stop.

Not that you minded all that much.

For his part, Cater never seemed to mind your rejection too much, only leaving you with a few playful remarks:

"How cruel!~"

"I'll get you one of these times!"

"I know you'll fall for my charms sooner or later!~"

All before coming back the very next day to try his luck once more.

But today was a bit different. There’s no cheerful smile on his face… almost as if it was never there to begin with. His eyes as empty as the glass he kept playing with.

And then he sees you. And you feel as if you were caught red-handed, doing something you shouldn’t. A small wave of adrenaline washes over you as you avert your eyes from the man.

Are you more embarrassed for yourself or for him?

He looked... different. No shine in his green eyes, no mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Everyone's celebrating and yet he stays hidden in a private booth.

What's gotten into him? You briefly wonder. You might've even asked him about it, if he wasn't a member of the Heartlabyul mafia. And you want nothing more to do with your patrons, other than serving them drinks.

But you glance at him again and happen to catch his line of sight. As you lock eyes with the lone figure, he attempts to give you a halfhearted smile, before going back to playing with his almost empty glass.

With a sigh, you decide make your way over to him. Bartender duty and all that.

"Do you want another drink, Cater?" you try.

"You should help out the other patrons."

Cold.

Detached.

Uninterested.

What… even…?

“Hehe~ did not expect that, did you?~” his voice is… “playful” the…smirk playing on his lips distorted. A look of disgust combined with boredom.

Now he looks more like a man working for the mafia than he’s ever looked before. No friendliness can be seen on his face or in his eyes.

“What the h-“ but you are cut off.

“Please sit.” Cater motions for the seat opposite of him. “And please be quiet … the other guys wouldn’t be too pleased if we disturbed them, don’t you agree~?”

And so, having your bar full with only one gang turned from peaceful to threatening.

So, you take that damned seat.

One wrong more and-

“Smart choice~.” the ginger beams. “Thank you for cooperating so far! How about we keep going like this, hmmm~?”

“You-“

“Now, don’t go breaking my heart! I want us to have a pleasant chat!”

“…What about?” you test.

“Hmmm…” the man brings a finger to his chin in contemplation “Oh! I know!” Cater lets out a chuckle.

“How about our future date and relationship?”

Now wouldn’t be a good time to refuse, now would it?

So why not give good ‘ol Cay Cay a chance? He’ll do anything to make sure you don’t regret it!

#silver bullet au #twst silver bullet au #twst au #twst cater #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #yandere cater x reader #yandere cater diamond #yandere twst x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst

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tastefulbean · 7 months

Text

Sooooo thorns!valeries (and by extension the thorns!au which is based around Danny and Val’s interesting dynamic and exploring that!) has been on my mind recently. Still working on the ref but I figured I should go into detail about it.

The idea behind the thorns!au is this:

Valerie gained her ghost hunting gear originally from vlad right? And then later on she got her gear upgraded from technus. Despite her choosing to stay a ghost Hunter, the suit choice and ghost hunting gear were never really hers. This struck me as weird because she seems like the type to do her own thing and fight in a way that fit her.

Blood blossoms got introduced and like,,, never got used again? THEYRE SO INTERESTING THATS A CRIME. In this au, Val finds out about blood blossoms sooner than anyone and incorporates it into her suit. It inspires her to take it upon herself to become a ghost Hunter.

Red Thorn Huntress. *cue music*

Danny goes out of his way to become friends with her after being abandoned by the A-listers. He feels really guilty about Cujo so he tries to make amends.

(In this AU he has his identity under wraps. Not even sam and Tucker know)

This also gives her an excuse to visit the fentons and train under them! Perhaps even to visit Danny more often wink wink-

Thorns! Val’s fighting style is much more martial arts based. She’s not afraid to get up close and personal to fight, which I feel matches her personality. She had a black belt for Pete’s sake!! Blood blossoms are a huge part of her ghost fighting gear too, relying on poisoning and wearing out the enemy over time rather than blast first, ask questions later. The thorns on her gear contain potent poison that is dangerous to ghosts. (However it only mildly affects humans. Think like a mild poison Ivy rash. So it’s not a huge deal if she scratches herself)

Thorns! Val doesn’t fly around on a board, instead on a pair of rollerblade rocket boots to get around. Fenton brand of course! Makes her much more graceful and allows her more control whilst flying at her enemies midair. She can fly as fast as Danny if she tries.

She also has her identity under wraps, at least for a bit. (She’s smart enough to not let it get out otherwise her dad would ground her for life lol)

In this au, she still breaks up with Danny, wanting to keep him safe from her ghost hunting activities. However, they still stay friends even if it’s awkward and Danny feels bummed about it. She doesn’t like,,, up and disappear?? She becomes a part of his small friend group.

as phantom, he creates multiple opportunities to regain her trust and the two actually begin to team up more often, mutually defending the town and acting as equals. Say Danny isn’t able to patrol that night, Val picks up the slack and Amity park becomes a whole lot safer.

Haven’t decided where the idea may go from there but y'know that’s where future art will come in ;)

I started writing this as a fic but a comic might be fun too! (If I can find the time to work on it, that is)

But yeah! That’s basically what I got!

#listen I have brainrot #and now it’s your problem too #thorns!valerie #dp thorns! au #Danny phantom thorns! au #thorns!au #danny phantom

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agaypanic · 8 months

Note

HI! can you do a request or head cannons for kelso where he falls in love with an over achiever/ really smart girl? Where she pretty much wants nothing to do with him because she thinks he'll just ruin her grades and her bright future, but he just continues to follow her around like a lovesick puppy anyways. HE JUST WANTS HER TO LIKE HIM SO BADDD 😭😭

Michael Kelso Falling For An Over Achiever Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: when she’s smart and he’s the stupidest man on the planet>>>>

***

You guys def met bc you had to tutor him in something

There’s no other way you guys would interact

Kelso never noticed you before because you don’t share any classes or hang in similar circles

But the second he meets you, he wishes he noticed you sooner

“Michael Kelso?” A voice sounded behind the boy, who was talking to his friends. Kelso turned around and, being a giant, looked down to see you looking back at him with an inquisitive look.

“That’s me.” Kelso grinned, wondering what a cute girl like you wanted to talk to him about. “I’ve never seen you around before. Are you new? Need me to help you find your classes, because honestly, I dunno if I’ll be much help.” You laughed.

“I’m not new, Michael. You may not have seen me around, but I’ve certainly seen you.” You held your hand out for him to shake. “I’m Y/n, your new math tutor. I’m in Stevens’ stats class, and he asked me to help you. Are you free after school today?” Michael nodded, taken aback by your directness and the fact that he had never noticed you before. “Good, meet me at the library after school then. We can go over what you need to work on.”

You waved goodbye to both him and his friends before taking off. Kelso watched you until you turned a corner and were out of sight, and even then, he didn’t turn around until Eric tapped him on the shoulder.

“You good, Kelso?” He asked, watching the goofy smile on his friend’s face.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kelso took another quick look behind him, secretly hoping you’d somehow pop up again. “Hey, do you guys know where the library is? And, uh, since when did we have a library?”

It took a while, but Kelso was able to find the library

He didn’t really care about the actual tutoring, more focused on getting to know you

Or rather, getting into your pants

But you shut that down immediately

“Michael, you need to focus.” You said for what felt like the thousandth time as you caught Michael not working on the problem in front of him. Instead, he stared at you with a dopey grin.

“Oh, I am.” He said, eyes dragging down your form before raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Why don’t we get out of here?”

“Absolutely not.” You snorted. “Look, Michael, if you wanna waste your time, that’s fine. But I have more important things to do if you won’t even try to make an effort.” You gathered your things into your bag and stood up from your seat.

Michael started to panic. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted from you, but he knew he didn’t want you to leave. There was some kind of magnetic pull you had on him.

You only made a few steps before you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Wait!” A librarian loudly shushed Michael, and he flinched. You turned around expectantly, and he took his hand off you, trying to find words because he honestly didn’t think you’d stop. “Don’t go. I’ll… I’ll try, I promise. Just don’t leave.” Your annoyed expression softened, and you moved to sit back in your chair, Michael eagerly following you. “How about we make a deal?”

“I have to make a deal with you to get you to do your work?” You asked, a small but amused smile gracing your lips. “What kind of deal?” Michael grinned at your intrigue.

“I’ll do everything you want me to do: the note-taking, the practice questions, my homework.”

“You should already be doing your homework, Michael.”

“But, every time I get something right, I get to ask a question about you.” You raised a brow, both in confusion and interest.

“Why do you wanna know stuff about me?”

“Just do.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. He wanted to seem casual to not scare you off with the fact that, for some reason, he suddenly wanted to know every little thing about you.

“Okay.”

Kelso actually starts trying to do his work

He wants to impress you so bad

And whenever he gets something right, he gets to learn more about you

It eventually paid off

“Y/n!” Kelso ran through the hallway towards you, pushing through people who were just trying to leave school. You jumped in surprise, turning in his direction, and watched him skid to a stop, almost falling on his face.

“Michael? Are you okay?”

Kelso dug around in his jacket pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He unraveled it and turned the front page to face you.

“I got a B minus!” He said ecstatically. You grinned.

“Congrats, Michael!” If you had gotten a C plus on an assignment, especially your midterm test, you would’ve been beyond disappointed in yourself. But you and Michael were different, him getting that kind of grade was an extreme improvement. “That should take your class grade up to some kind of C.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I’m glad to have helped.” Then you turned on your heel and started to walk away. Your work with Michael was done; he needed help passing his midterm, and you did just that. Now you could focus on acing your own assignments.

But Michael jumped in front of you, causing you to stumble in surprise.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I’m going home; I have to study.” Michael laughed, shaking his head at you.

“What? No, let’s go celebrate!”

“No offense, Michael, but I have more important things to do than party with you. I’m sure you have friends who are more than willing to get wasted.” You pushed past him, leaving the boy saddened.

After that, Kelso felt like you were avoiding him

It was like he never saw you anymore, and if he did, you wouldn’t talk to him

It wasn’t a conscious decision on your part, at least you thought

You never hung out with Kelso before you had to tutor him, why would you do so now?

Besides, you knew that being around him any longer than necessary would just be detrimental to everything you’ve worked for

Kelso clearly didn’t feel the same

“Kelso, you gotta stop being so hung up on this chick.” Hyde reprimanded, sick of his friend constantly watching your moves. “It’s weird, and it’s honestly bumming me out.”

“I can’t help it, Hyde!” Kelso rested his head in his head, staring longingly at you reading while eating your lunch. “She’s, like, so perfect, and she won’t even give me a chance.”

“I think that means you should look for someone else, bud,” Eric said, sitting beside him.

“I’m not giving up, Eric. I just need one chance.” Kelso suddenly stood up, long legs almost making him trip over the cafeteria table bench. “That’s all I need.”

In a flash, he was sitting across from you. So engrossed in your textbook, you barely noticed Kelso’s presence.

“Hi.” You gave him a glance before continuing with your reading. “Why don’t you wanna hang out with me, Y/n? I just wanna have fun with you, and I don’t mean that in a gross way, I swear. I just think you’re really cool, and I really liked getting to know you, and I think we could have a lot of fun-”

“That’s the problem, Michael.” You interrupted, catching him off guard. Of course, he was happy that you were speaking to him. But your response made him a bit upset.

“What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath, bookmarking your page and setting the book on the table to clasp your hands in front of you. Then you looked at Kelso.

“All you want is fun. That may be fine for you, but I have a future to think about, one that I’ve been working so hard for. I can’t put that on hold just because you wanna have a good time.” You scratched your cheek, wishing for this conversation to be over. “I’m pretty sure that half of the girls at this school would love to have your attention.”

“But I don’t wanna give them my attention, Y/n,” Kelso replied, feeling helpless. “Please, just one date. It doesn’t even have to be a date. I just want one chance.”

“Michael.”

“If you decide you don’t want anything to do with me, I’ll leave you alone. I promise. Just one date.”

You were silent for a while, too long for Kelso’s liking. He watched you stare at him, probably to figure out the best way to reject him once and for all.

“Fine.” It was a quiet grumble, but Kelso definitely heard it. He grinned that stupid grin of his.

“Really?” He asked excitedly.

“One date. And then that’s it, Michael. Got it?”

“Yup!” He nodded enthusiastically. “Y/n, I promise you won’t regret this.”

“I think I already am.” You whispered to yourself, but Kelso caught it. But he wasn’t saddened by the comment because he could pick out the tiniest joking tone in your voice.

#agaypanic #michael kelso x reader #michael kelso #that 70s show x reader #that 70s show

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stalebagels · 5 months

Note

what’s your ranking of the talk show hosts?

Oh, thank you for asking. I am so sorry for the essay I am about to write.

Highest to Lowest:

Conan O'Brien / Craig Ferguson - I put these two in the top spot because if you asked me to choose only one of them to watch for the rest of my life I wouldn't be able to do it. Both of them are people that I watched with my dad occasionally through my childhood so maybe I'm a little biased on that front. They're probably the only two hosts that I ever cared to watch interview anyone because it never felt boring to me even if I didn't really care about the interviewee or know who it was. They were both unique and just seemed like genuinely good people both inside and outside the studio (and to add to the bias a little; I got to meet Craig at one of his Fancy Rascal tour shows last year and he was so fucking great. I was so nervous going into it because I was worried he wouldn't be the same as he was on TV as is the case for a lot of celebrities, but he went above and beyond for everyone. He signed everyone's posters and merch even though he didn't have to (I got a poster signed) and he actually took the time to have a full conversation with everyone individually and make sure everyone was comfortable. He's a wonderful dude and I wish I could go back and talk to him again.)

Stephen Colbert - When I first started watching late night shows (back when the pandemic first started), the first shows I ever sat down and watched a full episode of on TV were Stephen and Conan. I had absolutely no idea who Stephen was because up until that point I hadn't really cared enough about politics. I grew up in a heavily conservative small town with a heavily conservative family in the south where the word liberal counted as an insult, so you can imagine we didn't really watch a lot of late night shows. Stephen's show helped me make sense of things, helped me work out what my own feelings were, and provided an escape from the hell that was lockdown. He was the one that made me give a shit about what's happening in this country first, and after that first sit down I ended up going back and watching old episodes of The Colbert Report and The Daily Show (he also led me to Jon in that regard, since I had no idea either of those shows existed) and found that I loved his style of comedy. I really do wish I had discovered him sooner.

Jon Stewart - The only reason I didn't stick Jon and Stephen in the number two spot together (as well as John Oliver) was because Stephen was primarily responsible for my interest in politics - basically he was for me what Jon was to everyone before he retired - and was the one who led me to Jon in the first place. It took me a while, but once I finally went back and started watching old clips and episodes of The Daily Show; once again I wished I had discovered him sooner. I wish I had his righteous, angry optimism to look forward to every night, but a lot of the things he's said and done on the show still hold true today. Plus, his fight for the 9/11 first responders bill to get passed was absolutely inspiring and an example we should all follow when it comes to pushing for change and holding our leaders accountable. I didn't realize he started out as a stand-up comedian, but I've since watched as much of it as I could get my hands on because he's just an incredibly smart and funny dude in any situation.

John Oliver - I hate to put John so low on the list but I didn't want to cop out and put him, Jon, and Stephen all in the same tier lol. I'll be honest, I can't really remember the first time I watched John's show. I think it must have been on YouTube at some point during lockdown or even right before, but ever since the first time I watched it I was hooked. I learn so much from him and his show and I always look forward to his next episode. Generally, I don't really watch guest interviews unless I really care about whoever is there, but since John doesn't have guests it was much easier for me to sit down and watch the entire thing without getting bored or distracted. He does an incredible job of informing his viewers about a problem that - chances are - they had no idea existed beforehand and the amount of research/investigation he and his team do inspire me to do the same. It was really weird watching his stand-up and seeing him in regular clothes and not a suit though lol.

Jimmy Kimmel - I think this might... be a controversial take. His was the third show I started watching during the pandemic - I think Stephen took a break at some point and I decided to try watching Kimmel to fill the time - and I found that I actually quite liked him. His monologues felt natural and easy, and he had a lot of his family and friends on his staff which I admired (plus Guillermo). His humor is kind of the same as my dad's though (sort of), so maybe that's why I liked him off the bat. His beef with Matt Damon is hilarious, his pranks are generally harmless and funny, and he seems very down to earth and generous for someone who makes a goddamn lot of money. Plus, I watched a clip of him back during the Tonight Show fiasco where he came on Leno's show and shit talked at him about backstabbing Conan, which earned some respect from me. I don't know a lot about what he did on the Man Show because I don't think I would touch that with a ten foot pole (and from what he says neither would he), but he seems like a good guy. (Although I will say I generally only stay long enough to watch the beginning of his show like the monologue or unnecessary censorship since I don't care about musical guests or interviews).

Seth Meyers - Again I hate to put him down so low, but I have to be honest and say I don't actually know a whole lot about him. I watched him on SNL sometimes with my dad when it was on, but it wasn't very often. I never watched his show during the pandemic as I was mainly focused on juggling Kimmel, Colbert, Fallon (gag) and Conan. Honestly it wasn't until Strike Force Five came around that I really started paying attention to him. I like that he involves his writers and his staff in a lot of his bits, and he seems like a lovely person. Unfortunately, though, he is down here a little lower but I still enjoy watching him even if I haven't watched a lot of his content. (His stand-up special is on my list, though)

Jimmy Fallon - This is a weird one for me. I watched Fallon a couple of times during lockdown and even before then I knew who he was because everyone hated him. It was on a whim that I decided to watch his show one night, and I wasn't really impressed with what I saw. That said, I didn't hate it - and when the Rolling Stone article came out I was very disappointed. And the fact that he just never addressed it publicly and carried on like nothing happened rubbed me the wrong way, and every monologue I did see afterwards just.. wasn't even puff-of-nose-air funny anymore. He became much more annoying to me, even during the podcast. The only time I found him funny were the Strike Force Wives games. Otherwise he just became painfully bland, and it's a shame because his original late night show was actually pretty decent in comparison to The Tonight Show.

As for Corden and M*her; if they were being chased by hundreds of angry geese and asked me to let them in my house for shelter, I'd shut the door in their face and laugh.

So, if you got to the end of this long ass clusterfuck, here are two pics of Craig and I at the tour :) and once again, I apologize.

#I AM SORRY #this got SO LONG #thanks for the ask though i've never gotten one before lol nobody wants my opinions on things #this is probably why #honorable mention: graham norton my king #strike force five #jon stewart #stephen colbert #john oliver #conan o'brien #jimmy kimmel #craig ferguson #seth meyers #jimmy fallon #anon ask #late night

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taehyungfirst · 3 months

Note

I think we'll start to see some of the members break into other solo activities. I'm here for Actor Jin. I think we're going to see Namjoon work in other mediums, sooner rather than later given his mystery project promo (and his repeated mentions of art and other mediums). I could see him creating and curating. Yoongi? I think he's going to be focused on producing the group efforts. But, pipe dream, I'd love to see him take on scoring a film. His lyrics and rapping skills get deserved attention but the backing of his songs is so interesting and I've love to see more of it in a different form.

I'd love to see Hobi lean more into fashion -- a fashion partnership/collab -- he could be the guest editor of a shoot/project/mag or do a small run of something. I don't know about the others. Tae has already been involved in so many other projects. I definitely think he'll act in some way-- the amount of offers he must have after the IU music video! But Tae keeps us guessing. Variety shows, live performances, acting in music videos, coffee ambassador, muse for all the magazines. I know he's got something up his sleeve we don't expect.

I think we may see more collabs for JK. There is no way that every major recording artist isn't fighting through his proverbial inbox. I could see him doing collabs in conjunction with group work to keep his toe in the solo side (and on the charts) but not take the time/attention of a full album. I hope Tae might do this as well in his own way. I think he was so smart with his first album -- no collabs, live performances, not written by him (so people can't speculate). He's a critically and commercially acclaimed artist in his own right. I'd love to see him partner with other artists -- especially ones that aren't as mainstream.

And I think they'll do some big spon con together -- of what I don't know -- but something to globally highlight the reunion.

I could also see SK wanting them to do more prominent cultural ambassador-y stuff post-ms. I think of that video that Namjoon had to do for his graduation ceremony. It will be interesting to see how the navigate that and what they feel that they have to do in those capacities.

Ok, that's enough of a random ramble of thoughts...

Hi!

I love the idea of Namjoon curating a museum! I think it would suit him very well, and I hope his next project (which I assume it’s music) it’s gonna be something like Indigo again, I really liked the album. Yes for actor Jin and uhmmm I think Yoongi is gonna be an even bigger producer, if Pdogg isn’t in Hybe he will produce the group songs and I can see him having more projects piled up for other artists, I think he likes being a producer a lot.

I hope Hobi does some mentoring in a show again, he’s a great teacher and the industry’s best dancer so he should get a gig like that. Regarding Jungkook, do you think this America trial will keep going? Like do you think his solo career will keep being centered there?

I think Taehyung will drop a second ep somewhere in the future, and that he will drop Travel with me too idk why but I’m convinced that song is gonna see the light of the day (I’m just convincing myself 🕯️), also yeah more acting gigs, something international at some point.

#i think they won’t release solo music for a bit after they reunite #like maybe after the tour they will start balancing solo and group activities again but knowing bh obsession with ‘everyone or no one’ they #will probably do nothing solo before tour #ask #bts #bts post enlistment

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fit-cric · 1 month

Text

What should the cricketers do during the off-season?

• Start now

Pre-season is anytime before the next season. Don’t wait until the last few months or weeks before you head down to the gym and start training to capacity trying to make up for the last six months. Starting sooner rather than later allows you to hit the odd road bump and still keep going.

• Build a solid foundation

Build on the structures of the body. Whether you’re at home or in the gym, focus not on the funky one arm cable exercises (although I love them) but think about the big movements that the body needs to be competent at in general. Hinging at the hips, shoulder capsule mobility, ankle stability, shoulder blade control, knee integrity, to name but a few. Many of these structural issues can be improved with the big five lifts – done correctly that is. These are: squat; deadlift; row/pull up; overhead shoulder press; bench press. Remember this is not the only focus, and mobility and fitness should not be discarded, but getting these lifts strong will certainly keep you in the game as you develop other areas of your cricket fitness. Kinetic Cricket has a full breakdown of these lifts and how to use effective progressive overload to develop your strength and robustness.

• Aim to be better than you were, not the finished article

One of my favourite phrases is “Be less wrong today than you were yesterday”. Simply put, strive for growth not for perfection. You will enjoy the process far better if you achieve small wins every other day rather than the end-goal feeling a million miles away. Sometimes this may mean pulling the pin on a workout if you feel a niggle, sometimes it may mean holding yourself back, even if you feel you can do that one last rep or lift just a fraction more. Train smart, don’t chase perfection.

• Focus on your weaknesses and mobility issues

Mobility is often banded together with flexibility and suppleness. I was fortunate to be fairly mobile during my career which helped, being a wicketkeeper, but I have trained hundreds of people who find certain movements very difficult especially through their shoulders and their mid-backs. These mobility issues have an immediate impact on your technique which in turn can have an immediate effect on runs and wickets

•Shed some pounds

Cricket is very much a confidence game, and although feeling confidence can and should come from inside, there’s no doubt that looking in good shape, feeling trim and carrying less timber gives anyone a boost. The summer is often a time of big lunches and even bigger jugs at the end of a good win so enjoy them without feeling like your waistline is getting away from you. Fat loss can be simple and hard at the same time.

Lastly relax and journal your weak areas and the things you need to work upon!

Play bold!!

#off season #cricket #health & fitness #funny #education #business #mindset #consistent

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bearbluebooks · 6 months

Text

Chapter 5 - Rules, Rumors and Romance

Repercussions, crew dinner, dancing in a shady bar and plenty of smut!

Start here or if you're all caught up read the new chapter here or under the cut.

Azriel POV

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Lightning strikes lit up the midnight black sky. Pattering rain softly added to the already grim ambiance.

Night time usually meant rest- rest from the guests, from work, from responsibility. Being called to the radio could only mean one thing: trouble.

Azriel was still tied to the bed. Although he loved the surprising freedom he felt in the constraint, he needed to get control over this situation sooner rather than later.

Moments ago, pleasure hung thickly in the air. A different kind of anticipation colored their eyes now.

After Gwyn unbound his wrists in silence. Azriel took one of her cheeks in his hands as he reassuringly said “It will be fine. "I promise, love.”

As long as she was okay, he would be, even if he didn’t completely believe the phrase himself.

With calm movements, he pulled on his pants and dress shirt- no need to give them even more ammunition by showing up naked.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he said as he left his safe space.

The look in her eyes told him she knew exactly what awaited him in the bridge. Gwyn was too smart. It was one of the things he loved about her.

Love, he loved her. Nobody could change that, no matter what would be said in the bridge.

With a deep breath, he opened the metal door to the bridge where Rhysand, and… Beron stood?

“Hello, brother.” He said with anger and understanding in his eyes- a strange combination.

“Hello, Rhys. Or should I say, boss?” The answer would reveal a lot. He held all the power on the ship because he owned the ship, in certain ways that meant he owned him. The line was never blurred, never reinforced. Both kept to their respective responsibilities and never crossed the invisible boundary. Until now…

“Beron.” Better address the elephant, or oil tycoon, in the room.

“Captain.” He spit out as if the word tasted bad. Beron seemed to have less problems with the word and more with the person behind it.

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we,” Beron demanded.

He felt her before he saw her, as if a part of his soul felt at peace again when suddenly the door swung open to reveal a partially soaked Gwyn wearing her chief stew uniform. She came.

He was sure her uniform wasn’t complete, considering her underwear was soaked long before the rain ever started. A corner of his mouth started to lift at the thought as pride blossomed in his chest again. He quickly shot the rising emotion down, this was not the time or the place. He put the thought away to think about later.

“I think this concerns me too,” she said with so much confidence he could kiss her again.

“Did you threaten to kill my son as well?” Beron answered.

That little shit went and told his dad.

Gwyn looked at him with shock in her eyes which was followed by a small smile.

“I did threaten to cut off his balls if he ever touched me or the other stews again.”

The resulting silence was interrupted by Rhysand’s coughing.

“You did what?” Beron asked in shock. With slow steps, she walked toward the two males, “You were there. Or do you agree that females are part of the interior? Did we go back a hundred years and I didn’t know? Should I give up my right to vote too?”

She stood so close his body urged her to come back. “Does putting on this uniform allow you to do whatever you want to me?”

She got him there. Beron had nowhere to go, her words put him in a chokehold he couldn’t get out of.

Pride wasn’t a big enough word to describe what he felt looking at his Gwyn.

“Because it will be the last time I put it on.” The anger dripped from her voice.

“Gwyn I can assure you that is not how I run a business. His behavior is unacceptable and he will not be allowed back on any of my boats.”

“What the hell…” Beron interrupted.

“I’m not finished.” Rhysand continued. “That does leave the issue of you and Azriel. Beron, you do not need to be present for that conversation I will speak with you later.”

Beron did not take kindly to being told what to do. Azriel wondered what the repercussions for this one sentence would be- a collective oil boycott against Night Court Industries?

He wouldn’t put it past Beron.

“This is unacceptable, my lawyers will-“

“Will do nothing, unless you want a sexual harassment lawsuit in return,” Rhysand interrupted.

With smoke coming out of his ears, Beron left the bridge with a smack of the door that he was sure woke up everybody on board.

“Now for you two.” Rhys started, removing an invisible speck of lint from his black dress shirt.

“Let me explain,” Azriel started.

With the confidence of a man who was worth half a billion dollars, he sat down on the empty spot next to the steering wheel- his steering wheel. With crossed arms, he said, “I can’t wait to hear it.”

“I love her,” Azriel said as he moved closer to Gwyn and took her hand in his.

Immediately all worry left his body. Whatever it was he could take as long as she was by his side.

“Shit.”

“I expected a lot of things but not that.”

“And you?” He asked Gwyn.

With a smile that made her eyes burn an even brighter blue, she replied, “I love him too.”

“You two know this puts me in an impossible position, don’t you?”

Instead of giving a response, he gripped Gwyn’s hand tighter. To reassure her as much as himself.

“Gwyn if you would be so kind as to let me talk to my brother alone.” It was not an order or a question, he always had a way with words.

“Everything you say to me you can say to her.”

“Alright,” he said as he flawlessly jumped off the surface, “you threatened to kill someone for her? Either you’ve lost your mind, or you really love her.”

Did his cheeks start to turn red? He was sure they couldn’t do that.

“I do.” He would leave specifics just for the two of them, but he could share this- the truth.

When he dared to look at Gwyn, to see if he scared her with his confession, he saw nothing but warmth.

“Very well. Who am I to stand in the way of your happiness?”

Both brothers stood in front of each other, and it felt strangely intimate.

“I came here as your boss. But I’m your brother first. I would never prevent you from being with the one you love.”

Relief flooded his body until he said “But-“

“I cannot favor one employee over another. This is a business where rumors spread fast and rules are rules for a reason.”

Azriel was about to interrupt. Like hell would he give up Gwyn, he would rather lose his captaincy. Or his ability to breathe.

“I’m going to have to insist on keeping it professional.” With a smirk, he added “I know what you just did. And I don’t want it to happen during charters again.”

“Whatever you do outside of it is your business,” he continued. “As far as rules and rumors go, I will handle those if you swear to abide by mine.”

“Your rumors?” Azriel joked.

“Swear it, brother.” No humor coated his voice.

So he said, “I swear it.”

“I swear it too.” Gwyn joked, but quickly added, “We won’t have sex on charters anymore, I promise.”

“And nice to meet you, Rhysand. Nice to put a face with the name. I thought you would be taller though, and maybe with a golden tooth?”

“Thank you? And nice to meet you too, Gwyneth Berdarra.” He said with charisma dripping off every word.

Smooth son of a bitch.

“I’ll leave you two alone, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said with one last squeeze of his hand.

“See you tomorrow,” he said with a smile, as he watched her walk out and everything else in his mind faded to black.

“You really love her,” he stated with surprise.

“I told you I did,” he said as he whirled his eyes back to Rhys.

“I’ve heard that before.”

“This is different.”

“I know,” he said as he threw his hands up in mock defeat. “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.”

Some of the lightness in the air shifted with Rhys’ next words, “I am going to have to insist on keeping your distance. You know what happens to her if people find out.” He said with genuine concern in his eyes.

“If you don’t handle this the right way she could lose her job, her reputation, even I can’t protect her from that.” Azriel was well aware of how lucky they had been until now. The thought of her taking the brunt of the possible fallout made anger rise in his throat. He would do anything to not let that happen. The haze of passion needed to make room for the practical reality.

Even though his body craved hers with every breath, and the thought of not touching her whenever he wanted to seemed impossible, he needed to try. “I know, I will,” he promised to Rhys, himself, but mostly to Gwyn.

“I’m going to have to ask you to sign a contract declaring you two are in a relationship. If you tell the crew that is up to you.”

They didn’t even have that conversation themselves. Saying they loved each other was one thing, but being partners was another. He wanted to make it special. To not let it be a formal request to prevent bureaucratic repercussions.

But if it meant Gwyn would be safe, he would do it. “I’ll give you the papers by next charter,” Azriel said.

“All right, if you send them before the next charter boards, I’ll make sure everything is in order.”

“Thank you, brother.” He knew it wasn’t pleasant for Rhysand either.

“What are we going to do about the Vanserra’s?” Azriel inquired, hoping the bastards left the ship sooner rather than later.

“I’m escorting them off the boat tomorrow afternoon. The next charter guests arrive in two days, I’m giving you all tomorrow off after they leave. Do with that information what you will.”

“May I suggest a nice hotel?”

“I’m going to bed.”

“See you tomorrow brother.”

As Azriel walked towards his bed chamber, he turned around to say “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, brother.”

—

Gwyn POV

To nobody's surprise, Morrin stayed in his room for most of the morning. Balthazar said he heard some strange sounds coming from his room, but nobody wanted to handle that situation so they left him alone.

After the confrontation in the bridge, Rhysand slept in one of the officers’ quarters. If she could believe the rumors, he shared a room with Cassian.

Rhysand was even more handsome in person, but not as handsome as Azriel of course. The rumor mill went wild when an unknown Archeron sister started dating the Night Court heir. Gwyn was already friends with Nesta at the time, and she remembered how tough the constant intrusion on their privacy had been on their family.

A yacht was eerily similar. Nothing was your own, not your room, your personal space, or your relationships. As proven by Rhysand’s sudden appearance. Seeing Beron threaten Azriel made anger replace the initial fear she felt. As soon as she left the cabin, that sinking feeling returned. Would she lose her job, or worse Azriel? Then she remembered his words, he really loved her. She couldn’t wait to ask him what that meant. Fortunately, she still had a job, unfortunately, she needed to keep some semblance of distance from Azriel to keep that job.

As she did the dishes in the small pantry, she thought about a plan to achieve that distance. He loved it when she wore her hair down, so she wouldn’t do that anymore, not on charter. Nor would she give him lingering looks, or touch his ass. Basically, she needed to avoid him at all costs because she would not be able to prevent herself from doing any of those things once she saw him. Gods, even thinking about him made her hands itch to touch him. To feel those burning eyes on her. To hear that baritone voice that sent shivers directly to her core.

As if she summoned him by her thoughts, she suddenly felt an imposing presence behind her. He leaned against the doorway to look at her when he said, “In my mind, I’m wrapping my arm around your waist.”

Gwyn closed her eyes and imagined it in her mind too.

“I’m pulling you closer.”

She had to fight the urge to lean into his body that was so close, yet so far away.

“I’m brushing my lips slowly over your neck.”

Her breath hitched as she imagined it.

“Maybe I’ll kiss you next depending on the sound that leaves your mouth. I’ll start slow. I’ll take my time as if I’ve never tasted your lips before.”

Her face heated at the thought.

“Then I will move my hand towards your perfect ass and pull you even closer.”

Her core throbbed at the thought of it and her hand almost moved to alleviate the burning tension.

His head moved towards her ear, where he said “I’ll have to wait until tonight. But it will be worth it. I promise.”

When she turned around, he was already gone. Just like the fear that they couldn’t make it work.

-----

Crew nights out were the pinnacle of charters.

Guests had the time of their lives during the charter, but for the crew, it started after they left- when freedom reigned and money flowed. Whenever the work was done for the day, all crew would head out to a joint dinner.

Tonight, Azriel joined. Usually, as a captain, it was tradition to let the crew have their time without a captain watching every move. Gwyn was ecstatic that tonight was different.

Two taxis drove them towards the restaurant, and she made sure to sit next to him.

None of the crew knew about them, outside Cassian, Nesta, and Emerie. They decided to keep it that way, otherwise, lines would become even more blurred than they already were.

Azriel and Gwyn sat in the backseat. Poppy and Balthazar sat in the two seats in front of them, and Cassian and Nesta sat at the head.

Her heart pounded in anticipation. She wasn’t that drunk but her head felt dazed.

When nobody looked, Azriel ran one finger up the expanse of her exposed skin which sent shivers over her entire body. She wished nobody else was in that taxi so that he could bend her over and take her then and there. But tonight was for the crew, at least dinner was for the crew. They deserved it, their last charter was a nightmare.

Rhys explained the sudden departure of the Vanserra's as a political incident. Technically it was true, just not the whole truth.

The table was surprisingly full. Emerie sat at the end of the table. Next to Gwyn sat Mor whose knee was held possessively by Emerie who sat on her right side. Emerie had confided in Nesta and Gwyn that she would finally make a move. Before dinner, Emerie had asked Gwyn to make sure she could sit next to the blonde beauty. Pride flowed through Gwyn’s body at the sight of one of her best friends’ bravery. She couldn’t wait to hear about the developments on their weekly Smut Sisters hangout tomorrow.

On Gwyn’s left side, sat Poppy who was engrossed in a conversation with Balthazar. Gwyn heard fragments of it, they seemed to be discussing the merits of scuba diving in winter, which was an odd choice of conversation, but that didn’t make it less passionate. Lazarus’ seat was empty, he went out for a smoke in between each course. At the other end of the table sat Cassian who could barely fit, which left Nesta scarce space to sit. Neither of them seemed to mind, as Nesta sat on Cassian’s lap. A pang of jealousy rang through Gwyn at the sight, her hands ached to touch Azriel too.

He did join the crew dinner, but he was seated at the head of the table. One glance to her left revealed amber eyes that watched her with such burning passion, that she could practically feel her short green dress come off under his scrutinizing gaze. She couldn’t really blame him, she did dress specifically for that reason. The dress hugged all her curves in just the right places. The deep neckline left enough to the imagination not to warrant unwanted attention, but trained eyes knew what lay underneath, and she made sure to tease accordingly. It was exactly that pair of eyes that followed the finger she slowly traced down her collarbone, towards the dip in her dress. The grip of his hand on the table and the bite of his lip suggested it was working.

When their eyes locked the whole world faded to black, and only they existed. He looked impossibly handsome in his black dress shirt, the top was unbuttoned which revealed the patch of black hair, but also his swirling tattoos which she traced with her tongue yesterday. He wore a silver chain she had never seen before which made him look even more ruggedly handsome. His legs were hidden underneath the oak table, but the tight black pants lingered in her mind. The fabric hugged his ass in such a way that warmed her skin and made her face grow hot.

When nobody watched, he gave her a wink that revealed so much hunger, that she had to clench her legs together in a desperate attempt to alleviate some of that building tension in her core.

Their gazes never left each other until someone asked: “What do you think Gwyn?”

Shit, she had no idea what they were talking about.The whole world ceased to exist as soon as those auburn eyes found hers. Nesta boomed in “The one we did two years ago has to be the craziest charter we have ever done, right Gwyn?”

“Oh right.” She said as she shook her head. Her real answer would be the Vanserra charter when she had threatened to cut off someone’s balls, that had been pretty crazy. But she couldn’t say that now. So she looked around, and told the story of the second craziest charter “Trixie Two Titts and her pornstar friends rented the charter two years ago.” As soon as she said Trixie’s name, Azriel spat out his drink and launched into a coughing fit.

A smile appeared on her face, as she continued, “They wanted to celebrate an award she received.” Old memories resurfaced with every retelling, the perpetual smell of fake tan, and the iconic orders of pornstars by actual pornstars. “Every night after dinner they would head out to their cabins and record a live stream or other videos, don’t ask how we knew.” She smiled at the memory. “They were the nicest charter guests we’ve ever had, super kind and respectful.” Unlike their most recent guests.

The whole table laughed before they launched into a different conversation about their craziest yachting experience.

Gwyn couldn’t help but look at Azriel and notice how his entire face lit up after her story, how his eyes always found hers. She couldn’t take it anymore. Him being so close but not able to touch him. Her hands ached. Her body urged her to get closer. With one last glance into his eyes, and a slight nod of her head in the direction of the sea, she announced “I’m just going to go for a little walk.” To which Poppy asked, “Do you want me to join you?”

“You stay here, I’ll be right back, but thank you!”

When she stood up from the table, the chatter continued to Gwyn’s delight. She could just hear Azriel when he said “I’m going for a smoke.”

When he finally caught up to her, she asked “You smoke?”

“There’s still much you don’t know about me, Gwyneth.” He said with a smirk. “Is that a problem?”

She smiled as she asked, “That I don’t know everything about you, or that you smoke?”

He moved his hands to his pockets and matched her pace, as he said “Both.”

She had to think about that, as she looked around the boardwalk they were currently walking down, and spotted no familiar faces. With one arm she linked into his muscular arm and answered, “One day I want to know everything about you, but for now, it’s part of your appeal- the mystery.” She smiled. “And you know it too.”

“The smoking… Don’t get me wrong, I want you to live for a long time, but- it’s surprisingly hot.”

“In that case,” he said as he reached into his pocket and lifted out a cigarette, “please light it,” he said as he offered her his lighter.

Both stopped just in front of the sandy road that led directly towards the beach, where he put the cigarette in his mouth. His eyes never left hers, as she brought the lighter to the back of the cigarette, and with one try lit it as if she had done it a hundred times before. With one strong inhale he made sure it stayed alight, as they both walked towards the beckoning sea.

One of his strong hands wrapped around her shoulder, as he pulled her closer to his body.

“Is this allowed?” she asked “We are technically out of charter but it still feels wrong.” Her stomach sank at that last word. Wrong. They were made to feel wrong because of some old notions and rules. Nothing about them felt wrong. It felt perfectly right, and she hated that she had to hide parts of it.

“I know, love,” he answered. “Until we tell the crew it will feel that way.”

He stopped right in front of her and placed one hand on her cheek when he said “But we are not wrong.”

The salty smell of the sea reached her nose before the sounds of the lapping waves entered her ears. With one swift movement, she removed herself from her dominant orbit to run towards the other beckoning force- the sea. Whilst she was still running, she removed the flimsy black slippers from her feet. The sensation of sand on her feet was heavenly.

When one of her toes felt the coldness of the vast blue expanse, a shiver ran up her body. She closed her eyes and felt truly at peace as she let all of her senses become completely immersed in the slice of paradise she found herself in. She noticed the warm brush of air kissing the uncovered parts of her skin. It beckoned her to set her long hair free to the wind- so she did. All she had to do was remove the hairclip and she felt the long strands fall down her back until they reached her hips.

When she looked back to where she left Azriel, she found huge eyes looking at her completely mesmerized- as if she was a siren calling to him.

With slow steps and eyes that seemed intent on capturing the moment to eternity, he made his way toward her. She didn’t dare move, her body was paralyzed by anticipation and equal hunger.

When he finally reached her, she moved as close as their bodies allowed. One of his arms slid around her in such a possessive way, that her body shook at the momentum his rough action caused. His gaze drifted between her eyes and lips as if he contemplated his next action carefully. The hunger in his eyes made her heart race and her breath hitch. With one finger, she traced his jawline and ran her fingers through his hair. Her other hand ran over his chest and ended up on his ass which she gave a rough squeeze- something she had been wanting to do the whole evening. Two strong hands moved to cup her ass in response- turned out she wasn’t the only one.

In pure anticipation, she wet her lips and tilted her neck, an invitation he greedily accepted as he traced a line up her neck with his tongue. A choked sob left her mouth at the sudden contact. The sound seemed to unleash him, as his lips crashed into hers in an instant. There was nothing soft about it, all the hunger in his eyes moved to his lips. He kissed like she was the water at the end of the dessert. As if she was the oxygen he needed to breathe. He grabbed her waist and moved one of his huge hands to cup one of her breasts “You’re so beautiful Gwyn” he forced out of his mouth.

With a smile, she moved one of her hands to his ass, which she used to desperately pull her body flush to his. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth with one languid stroke. He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, her new favorite. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her mouth.

“Fuck Gwyn,” he breathed into her mouth.

She could feel the effect she had on him as his hardness pushed into her stomach. The familiar sensation made her face grow even hotter, and her desire increased even more. In a desperate attempt to relieve some of that building tension, she pushed against his muscular body when she begged breathlessly “I need you Azriel.”

Two voices interrupted them before he could act on her plea.

“Look how beautiful.” The voice screamed enthusiastically. In one swift move, he adjusted his cock in his pants before moving in front of her. It gave her enough time to pull the fabric over her breasts that were uncovered by Azriel's roving hands.

Her breath stalled in anticipation of who the two people were, and only when she saw two unfamiliar faces did she let out a relieved breath.

Only when she turned around to see what attracted the two strangers to their private paradise, did she notice the sunset that was so beautiful it looked like a painting. Amaze made way for shock, she was so engrossed by Azriel that she completely missed the other magic that occurred right behind her. Two dolphins swam just in front of the setting sun, and the lowering light reflected on their shining bodies which created the most magical scenery.

When she looked next to her to gauche Azriel’s reaction to the magic, she noticed his eyes never left her body. He didn’t look at the sea or the sun, only at her, and he was equally mesmerized. Her breath hitched. He really loved her, and she really loved him.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she blurted out in a bout of pure happiness.

“Do you want me to?” he asked slightly shocked. As if he wanted to gauge if her reaction was true.

“Yes,” she replied confidently.

To which he finally answered, “I want nothing more in this world.”

With one hand on her hip, he turned her around, so she faced the ocean and the sunset. He took up the place right behind her and rested his head on her shoulder. Together they watched the sunset for what felt like forever and not nearly long enough. “My girlfriend,” he said into her ear. The mention of the words or the closeness of his body sent shivers up her spine. “Mine” he added and Gwyn couldn’t help but smile.

She wanted to scream it from the rooftops, Azriel Black was hers, and she was his. But for now, this was enough. It was a dream. It was her reality. She didn’t want to wake up. So she leaned into his embrace, and memorized the moment, even if it couldn’t last forever, her memory could.

When the vibrant colors of sunset, made way for the blackness of night, Azriel said in his deep voice “I still need you, Gwyn.”

With one large hand, he enveloped hers, as he led them both off the beach, towards the much busier promenade.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated in her bag.

Nesta: I made up an excuse for why you haven’t made it back yet. We all paid and are in Green Village, hurry your ass up here.

Gwyn: Thank you! I’ll see you in an hour! X Gwyn

“Nesta covered for us,” Gwyn said before she remembered she had no idea what was happening, “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” as he walked in front of her, never losing her hand, no matter how busy it was, or how many people wanted to move between them.

The first restaurant they found, Azriel walked inside. The waiter seemed to recognize him, and a quick greeting allowed them access. The place was packed, and every table was full. It looked expensive- chandeliers hung in the ceiling, the waiters wore fancier uniforms than them, and the food on the tables looked just as well-made as everything Nesta made.

Determined strides signaled that he had visited the place many times before. When they reached the back of the dimly lit space, he gestured for her to enter, “the toilets?” she asked.

“I told you I needed you, preferably without people seeing so this seemed like the best option.”

Hard to argue with that logic. She could hardly wait either. The time they watched the sunset did nothing to ease the ache in her core, for the absolute need for him.

The bathroom was small, but large enough for his body. With one strong pull, he grabbed her and deposited her on the wooden sink.

Before they could continue, she needed to get a feel for the place. The position he put her in granted her a perfect view of the lavish interior. Everything was made of sandalwood and gold, if there ever was a toilet to get naked in, this was it.

Some strange instinct made her blurt out “I’ve never had sex in a toilet before.”

“Not even on a night out?” Azriel asked surprised. “Never.” No matter the amount of alcohol, nothing could make her have sex in such a cramped space, not to mention the way everybody would know or hear exactly what she was doing. She was pretty vocal in bed, she was aware. She just didn’t need other people to be aware.

That was all before she met the Adonis who was standing before her. Before she felt the absolute need he caused. The way her core throbbed just looking at him.

Azriel seemed to be taken aback at her confession when he moved out of her reach to examine her intentions and said, “We don’t have to-“

Before he could change his mind she closed the distance by grabbing him by his shoulders.

Her mouth found his in an instant. The kiss was filled with all the need she felt, in answer to his doubts. “I want to”, she added to really put him at ease.

Her legs wrapped around his waist in an instant, pulling him even closer to her body. One of his hands moved towards the place where she needed him most, when he pushed her dress away to get better access, something that resembled a whimper left his mouth “You weren’t wearing any underwear?” She almost forgot about that, “I thought I would help you a little.”

“Help me lose my mind?” he countered. With two expert hands, he pulled her closer to the end of the surface she was seated on before he pushed one of his thick fingers into her core when he said, “You never cease to surprise me, Gwyn.”

With a groan, he said, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The truth was she had been wet for him ever since he walked out in those pants. Not to mention when he looked at her during dinner, smoked that cigarette, and when he kissed her on the beach.

“I’ve been thinking about this since last time. You’re all I think about- the way you moan when I touch you, the way you taste, the way you feel wrapped around my cock. Gods Gwyn, I-“

His mouth moved to her neck where he placed frantic kisses whilst his finger moved in and out of her core in a delicious rhythm. She used both of her hands to steady herself on the wooden cupboard, as her breath hitched when he put another finger into her core already filling her up.

His mouth found hers in an instant when he slowly licked her lips before he slid his tongue in. The kiss became more heated as he grabbed her waist with his other hand, and pulled her into an angel that allowed him to push his fingers in even deeper. The movement was so heavenly she moaned at the sudden sensation, “Azriel.”

“I love it when I hear you.” He said, and she was sure her cheeks burned at the compliment.

The kiss became more passionate as his fingers increased speed, and need overtook her entire body. Her hands moved to his hair before she collapsed into the crook of his neck, where she smelled his familiar cedarwood scent. For precious minutes, she felt like she was in heaven.

Her core pulsed as time slowed down, she couldn’t help it when another even louder moan escaped her mouth as he curled his finger and increased his speed to a brutal pace. A shockwave of pleasure rocked through her body, as her core tightened around his still-present fingers. He didn’t stop, his fingers carried her through her orgasm as she dissolved into pleasure. Nothing existed in the world, only him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said as his head lowered to her core where his tongue hungrily licked away all of his hard work. The surprise sensation made her hips rock into his face until she leaned into the sudden presence as she wondered if she would ever get used to it. When he said “And you still taste like the best thing I’ve ever had,” she knew she would never would.

When he raised his head, he licked his lips. She grabbed him by his shirt to pull him close and when they kissed, she could still taste herself on his lips.

“Fuck me Azriel,” She ordered.

She needed him inside her, desperately.

With two desperate hands, she removed his belt, as he unbuttoned his trousers with one confident smirk that never left his face. When he lowered his underpants, and his huge cock sprang free, she saw he wasn’t as unaffected as his face made it seem.

One last look into her eyes told him everything he needed to know when he thrust his hard cock into her throbbing core. The pressure made her breath hitch.

The more she adjusted to his size, the more it turned into pure pleasure.

With languid movements, he pushed her up that familiar hill. She met him thrust for thrust, as she rolled her hips into his groin. With one hand he pushed her dress lower to reveal her breasts. He quickly took one of them in his mouth and he softly bit into them before he eased some of the pain by lapping his tongue over the peaked nipples.

They had tender sex before, but this was different, there was nothing but need that fueled their movements. His thrusts were brutal, but her pushes back were just as desperate. “You’re doing so good Gwyn. You feel- you feel incredible.” He said just as breathlessly.

In one swift move, he pulled out of her, which made Gwym whimper at the sudden loss of his cock inside of her. With expert ease, he turned her around so she laid with her breasts on the surface and her ass up. With one hard thrust, he entered her again, and she relished the feeling of his cock back inside her. His entire body was wrapped around her, and she had never felt safer. With this angle, she could look into the mirror. She could see his body working his cock inside her. She could see the desire reflected in his eyes. It all added an extra layer of pleasure to her already throbbing core.

With every new thrust he pushed her up the hill, “Azriel,” she moaned into his ear. In response, he kissed her neck, as he licked the expanse to her jawline.

To need to be close filled both bodies, as his mouth moved to find hers in a heavy kiss. Heat spread under her skin, as every nerve ending seemed to be on fire.

When her core clenched around his thrusting cock on instinct, he lost all composure and begged her “Are you close?” The desperation in his eyes and the biting of his lip told her he was. When she was about to move her hand to rub her clit, he moved his hand even quicker to give her exactly what she needed. Because of the combination of his thrusts and the movement of his hand, she fell apart in his arms. With one last powerful thrust, he spilled himself inside her with one heady groan “F-uck.”

When he slowly made to move out of her, she grasped his shoulders to keep in her a little while longer.

When her phone rang for the second time that night, she noticed all the missed texts.

Poppy: chief where are you?

Cassian: Gwynnie, the dancefloor waits for no one. Bring Azriel, I know you’re with him. Tell him Balthazar and Lazarus left. Poppy went with them. Wait I have his number too. But still, push him to come.

Nesta: Get your ass over here. Drag Azriel with you too. The coast is all clear.

Emerie: Gwynnnnn a shot of tequila is waiting for you. And so am I!

Mor: Text me a thumbs up if you’re okay.

With a sigh, she showed the screen to Azriel. “What do you want to do?” he asked as he placed a kiss on her cheek. “Let’s go for an hour and then we can leave. Do you want to go?” She asked.

“I will go wherever you are.” He said with a smile.

When he removed his cock from her core, he first zipped up his pants, and then wet one of the fresh towels in the cupboard to clean her up. When she got presentable again, she jumped off the counter where Azriel already stood with his back to the door, “ready?”

With one move that took way too much strength, she pushed him into the door where she pressed one searing kiss on his lips before she said “Let’s go.”

----

When they arrived at the dingy club down the boardwalk, Azriel took her hand in his to lead them both inside. The place was packed. The brown walls and the musky smell reminded her of university. Right next to the entrance was the bar, where many people tried to get the bartender's attention. Azriel easily moved in between them when he asked “What do you want to drink?”

With a smile, she whispershouted into his ear “A beer.”

With one signal of his hand, strong eye contact, and his imposing presence, he was helped within seconds. When he handed her the beer, she took his hand in hers and guided them towards the dancefloor.

Right in the center were Nesta and Cassian, who danced like their bodies were made for each other. It was a mesmerizing sight. Which was why she didn’t say ‘hi’ until Nesta spotted them. “Gwyn, creep what are you doing?” she smiled as she left the dancefloor to give her a hug, “Good to see you too Nesta. Where are Emerie and Mor?”

“Together somewhere. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow” she said with a knowing smirk.

When Cassian followed Nesta he took up the space next to Azriel, “The last time I saw you in a club we were what, 18? You must be really special to him, Gwynnie.” Cassian said with a wink.

“Shut up, Cas.” He said as he pushed him hard in the shoulder.

“Anyway. Where were you two lovebirds?” Cassian asked.

“Why are you asking, need some inspiration?” Azriel said.

“Are they always like this?” Gwyn asked as she pulled Nesta to the side. “This is just the beginning, wait until they have their annual snowball fight.”

With a sigh, she placed one hand in Azriel’s back pocket and pulled him towards her. “Do you want to dance?” She asked him in a desperate attempt to make the most of the night of freedom.

“Let’s go Berdarra.” His strong hand pulled her onto the dancefloor where he carved a space for them that was big enough to move around comfortably. With one expert maneuver, he guided her body in front of him, where he placed his hands on her hips and moved them together to the beats of the music.

The position was perfect to grind her ass into his groin. She relished the way she was able to touch him. To be close to him. To do whatever she wanted to him. With one swift movement, she turned around to face him.

One look into his eyes told her he felt it too- the daze of passion increased by the consumed alcohol. With one searing kiss, she pressed her lips into his. One hand moved to his hair, which she softly ran her fingers through. Her tongue found his in seconds. She tasted beer and something distinctly Azriel. She wrapped her arms around his neck and became completely lost in the sensation. Until she heard two female voices behind her that slowly brought her back to reality “Gwyn made it?” Mor yelled. “I’m so glad, Smut Sisters unite,” Emerie said.

“Oh my gods,” Mor yelled from closer behind her, “my ex and my boss?”

“How funny.”

Ex, ex, ex. Where her mind was previously consumed by Azriel’s kiss, it was now completely overtaken by that one word, ex.

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