#I keep saying this but they really had no fucking clue how to promote this show lmaooo

[fish-bowl-2]

What better to go with your Ed Edd n Eddy exclusive bowling ball and bag, then an exclusive Ed Edd n Eddy Promotional Bowling Club shirt?

[cordycepsfem]

Let’s read the news today…

Oh no, this sounds terrible! What are these bills about that could cause so much harm to the LGBTQ+ community?

Oh! I see. They’re bills promoting keeping sports sex-segregated (good), promoting bathrooms that are sex-segregated (good), and bills against children, mostly future homosexuals who will grow out of actual gender dysphoria, and many of whom are autistic, being put on harmful drugs that will affect their bone growth, emotional health, intelligence, and genital and sexual maturation, among other things (sounds good to me!).

But wait… what does this have to do with gays or lesbians or bisexual people? Maybe some other bills will clue me in.

I’m sorry, an “anti-furry bill” is “anti-trans”? So now being trans is to be equated with having paraphilias and/or fetishes? Why don’t you just say it out loud here, guys. I’m sure all of the trans people trying to live their lives really appreciate being lumped in with furries. A+ work.

Ah, there it is. This has fuck all to do with the LGB community and everything to do with the privileges the TQ+ demand. Not sure why they didn’t just say “trans bills” in the article title - it would have gotten just as many reads and probably a bunch of money thrown at it.

Also, extra points for mentioning “Harvard Law instructor” (not his actual job, it’s much less prestigious than that) Alejandra Caraballo in this article. You can find out all kinds of exciting things about him on KF, including how he had to testify in front of Congress about threats he made towards the Supreme Court on Twitter. Brilliant brilliant lawyer. 🙄

Thanks for recommending this article, Elliot Page!

[blushstories]

I’m back…I’ ve had mote thoughts. If possible please can you write something with Butcher and reader + the boys like figuring something out and reader makes a really good point or gives really useful information and Billy just gets really excited and snogs the living daylights out of her in the middle of the room. Like cheek grabbing full on. idk…i just UGH. I have too many thoughts about this man djkdke. Thank you!!!

you know what ME TOO!!! at first i wondered whether he was the type to do this but i think i made it work!!

“Oh, we’re dead,” Hughie hasn’t blinked for a few seconds. “We’re so, so dead.”

Butcher tuts, running a hand over his jaw, his beard. He tugs a little at the hairs by his ear, a nervous habit you’ve noticed kicking around recently.

Your tongue presses against the roof of your mouth, winding up your jaw with it. Your heart stutters as you try to gather your courage to speak in the testosterone-heavy room.

“No, we ain’t. You ‘aven’t got a clue if they know,” Butcher insists. He’s got Hughie to work his computer magic to connect to a Vought server, and Hughie completely believes that they’ll track his connection.

“What are we even looking for? Do you know how this stuff works?” Hughie says, voice taut and pitch wobbly.

“Not one bleedin’ idea. Not like I give a fuck anyhow, that’s what you’re for,” Butcher says with mock cheerfulness.

“Guys—“ You’re immediately spoken over.

“Oh, great. Here I thought we were friends. So much for canary.”

“You might want to—“

“Oh, give over.”

“You know what, Butcher, I—“

“Hello?!”You say, loud and sharp. As if buckets of ice water sloshed onto their heads, they paused. You take a deep breath and smile.

“Great, thanks. I just wanted to say, you might want to check that folder,” you point to a spot on the screen. “Annie told me it’s where Homelander saves promotion emails, under-the-table emails, everything. He’s not as secretive as he should be.” You watch with silent delight, Butcher’s eyes flashing with recognition, plans being drawn up in his mind’s eye, creases by one eye introduced by an enlightened smirk.

Double click of the mouse.

“It’s password protected,” Hughie frowns.

“Oh, it’s biggestdick2,” you say. Butcher scoffs with amusement, then snickers when Hughie inputs it… and it works. He’s silent for a moment, rolls Hughie’s chair over and he scrolls and scans some documents, before freezing and looking up at you with glee in his eyes.

When he stands, the ends of his coat almost can’t keep up with his movements, and then there’s warmth on your cheeks and his lips are on yours and he kisses you with everything he has. It’s passion and love and admiration and relief.

You’re breathless and giddy when he pulls away, shoulders heaving, “That’s my girl.”

[barry-j-blupjeans]

TAZ NC Day 2: Fake Dating

@taznovembercelebration

"It's bad, Taako," Lup said as soon as the car door was shut. "It's real bad."

Taako had to be honest— he had no fuckin' clue what was happening anymore. He and Lup had never gone to different schools before and it was weird being out of her direct ring of things-that-are-happening. It was for the best, 'cus there was no way he could have survived trying to get a science degree. And he knew Lup loved cooking, but culinary arts was not for her. Ever. Keep her away from the building, thank you very much. Yeah, sure, she'd kill this degree, but it was the principle of the thing.

So he had only been getting outside reports of whatever was happening over at Neverwinter University. But apparently, it was a lot. While Taako was over here, blissed out on weed brownies, Lup was doin'… something. Again, he didn't really understand what was happening anymore. But Lup didn't even wait for an answer before continuing.

"I asked him on a date," Lup said, buckling herself in with more force than necessary. Taako took the car out of park (look at him! He could drive! Take that, driving instructor one through five.) and attempted to maneuver his way out of the parking lot.

"That sounds like a good thing?" Taako said.

"It's not," Lup said. "It's not a real date."

"A- and that means??"

"It's not a real date," Lup said again. "I fuckin— well, first off, Greg fucking Grimaldis—"

"Fuck him," Taako said.

"Yeah, fuck him— but he was very loudly promoting his fuckin'… casino or whatever that he's inheriting. And he so graciously invited us to an event that's being hosted there about— god, I'm too angry to remember what the stupid event is for. But he was like, oh, don't bother showing up without a date though, it's a couple's event, like I fuckin' know whatever that means—"

"It just sounds like bait," Taako said. How the hell did he leave this parking lot again? He felt like he had been turning left for like, three entire minutes.

"And then I was like, "of course, I have a date". And he was like, "oh yeah? Who?". And Barry was right there, so—"

Ah, Barry Bluejeans. Taako had heard way too fuckin' much about Barry Bluejeans. Lup kept trying to deny any romantic feelings she felt towards him, but Taako knew better. Or, well, Taako had eyes and ears and the way Lup spoke about Barry Bluejeans left nothing up to the imagination. Normally Taako would have liked to meet the man that his sister had fallen in love with but honestly, he's in a place in his life where he gets assignments about spaghetti so it's not like anything makes sense anymore.

"So it was less like you asked him and more like you are going to force him—"

"I asked!" Lup said, sitting up in her car seat. If she had noticed the several loops Taako had taken around the parking lot, she hadn't said. "After, I mean. I asked after. And y'know how Barry's like, he's gonna say yes to everything 'cus he feels bad about saying no. So I had to clarify that we weren't actually dating to, y'know, make it seem better— I don't wanna seem like I'm using him, Taako, I just— babe, if you had seen Grimaldis's face when I said that. And Barry fuckin' backed me up, too!"

Taako slammed on the brakes as someone tumbled into his car. And then onto the ground. Lup froze. Taako froze, too. And then started slowly backing up.

"Taako, we gotta— we gotta check—"

"Yeah, yeah," Taako said, pulling the car back a few inches. He shifted back into park and undid his seat belt. Lup was out of the car before him and when he opened the door, he caught the end of

"-arry!"

Aw, fuck.

"Oh, uh." Taako rounded the car, coming face to face with the new voice. It was a short man with concerningly thick glasses. He was wearing an honest-to-god sweater vest and bluejeans of all things. Lup was holding his hand, looking at the scruffed up flesh on his palm. He didn't look super injured or concussed. Taako had been going to stupid five miles and hour that this parking lot demanded of him. "It's— it's fine, Lup, really—"

"My guy, you just got hit with a car—"

"It was five miles an hour," Taako said, leaning against the driver's side door. "Nice to meet'cha, Barold."

"Uhm." Barry blinked a few times, looking between him and Lup.

"You're not concussed," Taako said. "We're twins."

"Uh," Barry said, eloquently. Man, this is the guy Lup was planning to fake-date? Good lord.

"You might be concussed, though," Lup said, turning Barry toward her. "Did you hit your head?"

"No, uh, no I'm good," Barry said. "Just, uhm— surprised! Haha."

This was awful. The worst part is that if Barry wasn't concussed, this was just his regular way of talking. Taako felt himself getting a headache. But Lup gave a smile that was all goopy and warm and, ugh. Taako kinda wished he had been going faster. He got back into the car, watching with a scrutinizing gaze as Barry and Lup talked.

And talked.

And talked.

Taako got out his phone, pulling up the group chat he shared with Magnus and Merle.

Gonna be late to game night, boys. I've got Lup and Barry Bluejeans existing in the same place.

Magnus sent back a saluting emoji.

[blusical]

The sexualization of hockey players is too normalized.

(TW: Sexual harassment, stalking, victim blaming(?). Reader discretion advised) (Notes: No DNI on this post since I want this to be an open discussion, just don't be an asshole and keep it SFW). To clear any potential confusion, I wanna add some disclaimers. 1. No, this isn't about real person fiction as a whole. The concept of RPF is a more complicated subject that crosses fanfic discourse territory, and that kind of discourse is not something I want to promote on this blog for my own comfort. 2. For the record, there is nothing wrong with having a crush on a player, or finding a player hot or cute. However, trying to sexually harass them is when it becomes a problem. 3. Yes, this is about the Alex Wennberg situation. TL;DR: We as hockey fans need to be more fucking respectful of a hockey player's boundaries and privacy. Again, having a crush on them or fantasizing about them isn't a bad thing, but going to their social media and saying such things crosses the line.

I think we can all safely say that we've all had our moments where we developed a crush on a hockey player. I think we can say that we've all had our moments where we had *certain* fantasies about them too. However, I think we all need to learn that there are times where it can go too far. And that is exactly what's going on with Alex Wennberg. Who's Alex Wennberg and what's going on? Alex Wennberg is an NHL player currently playing for the Seattle Kraken. Recently, his wife has spoken out against some sexual harassment that has been occurring against him, particularly in the form of writing. (Warning: NSFW comment in one screenshot)

However, this ultimately only led to further harassment against not only Alex, but his wife as well.

This ultimately led to Felicia and Alex making further statements shown below. (I've had to take multiple screencaps of the statements since they get pretty long). Felicia's statement:

Alex's statement:

This has been a problem for a while. Unfortunately, this isn't new. You might have seen this video featuring Connor Bedard, who was seventeen at the time. Tbh, this isn't sexualization per se, but it's still very uncomfortable and still an example of how obsessive hockey fans can be. In the video, Connor Bedard is signing jerseys, and a mother and a daughter come up to him, with the daughter asking Bedard to be her valentine, with the mom demanding that Bedard says yes. Bedard does eventually budge and say yes. Though while it might be easily brushed off as a "haha fans having fun" thing, keep in mind that Bedard was only 17 at the time. I have no idea how old the daughter was, but either way.

And it's not just limited to that. It's not uncommon to see really cursed signs. Including *this* one.

There's also something about Tyler Seguin's wife stalking Seguin as well, however I have no clue on the validity of that claim since most sources have been gossip blogs. However, that's not to say that there isn't some creepy stuff towards Seguin either, and the screenshots I've seen are definitely real.

(And no, I'm not posting the one with his address). The Double Standard when it comes to harassment towards players. Until now, this issue wasn't being talked about, let alone called out. However, I believe the reason for that being is a double standard. If the players were female, there would be a lot of discussion around it. The fans that were harassing the players, especially the male fans, would get shunned easily, and would probably be driven off the site. And of course, if the roles were reversed, the players would be called out for sexually harassing the fans as well. So... why is it any different when a male player gets sexually harassed? The answer is simple: It isn't. It's still harassment, regardless of gender. And I think we as hockey fans need to understand that. And I am absolutely astonished that this kind of behavior is normalized and even *encouraged*. Learning when the line is crossed. Again, I get it. We've all had a crush on a player. We've all had fantasies about a player. For example, I've felt similar about multiple players. There are some I do find cute, and I do fantasize about being with them. However, does this mean I'm going to go onto their Twitter or Instagram page and share those fantasies? Absolutely not. This is where the line is. They don't need to know what I think about them outside of how good they played, and they certainly don't need to know about what you think of them outside of how good they played either. It becomes a problem when you go towards that player's social media and comment those things on said social media page, or if you tag the player you're talking about. After that, it's not really a healthy obsession or a healthy crush anymore. It's straight up harassment. And of course, you can write and read fanfic about them all you want. Hell, I'll admit I've read some hockey RPF of my own. However, if you're going to post fanfiction about a player, don't tag the player in question, especially if the fanfic is NSFW. And especially don't fucking send it to them either. After that, the "fiction" in RPF is less fiction and, you guessed it, just straight-up harassment. Fiction is supposed to be just that: Fiction. Final Thoughts. I think we, as hockey fans, need to do better when it comes to how we treat hockey players and athletes overall. Not just in this particular context, but in general. The truth is, hockey players aren't just fictional characters or mythical beings or toys that we get to play with. They're living people. They're living, breathing people. They still have boundaries and they still deserve privacy, and that needs to be respected. (And sidenote: If I see anyone say that "being a celebrity means giving up privacy" or anything among those lines, I'm blocking you). Lastly, I'm thankful that Felicia and Alex Wennberg spoke out about this, even though they honestly didn't have to (and in fact they really shouldn't have to even reach that level, but alas..). And I honestly hope this creates conversation and helps hockey fans reevaluate what they say online. And, to Hockeytok and Booktok in particular, if you're reading this right now, I only have one thing to say: Do better.

(Tags are for reach and filter purposes) Edit: One more thing. if you genuinely think Alex and Felicia are at fault for the harassment they're getting, please block me.

[biffhofosho]

A Shot Through the Heart

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch.

Word Count: 17k (yeah, you read that right >.>)

Pairing: Hyungwon x OC

Trope: Anonymous sex, strangers to lovers

Synopsis: “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton.”

The Vibe: Hopeless romantic OC meets shameless Miami Beach party, sweet and sincere Chae Hyungwon (who’s also a bit of a pathetic loser sometimes, and I love that about him, so that’s here also), probably cringey meet-cute, definitely cringey rom-com title because obvious cheesy rom-com overtones, well-meaning friends who actually have no clue what they’re talking about, body shots, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, instant chemistry, trying (and failing) to keep things casual, unprotected (not-so) anonymous sex (thank you, dramatic irony), far too romantic for what it’s supposed to be, the usual unrealistic rom-com expectations, cute ending because the author is also a hopeless romantic

A/N: Continuing the Wonnie love agenda since no one else wants to do it for me. This was most definitely for me because I’m hyper-obsessive about Hyungwon’s every charming feature and the Unseen promotion as a whole, but I hope you enjoy it, too.

You are here for fun.

As Gwen danced from foot to foot in the raucous line, she repeated the words over and over.

You are here for fun.

With searing clarity, she could hear her roommate Marie as though they were still in the car on their long drive down from New Jersey.

“It’s Miami, okay? You’re not going for a relationship. You are here for fun. Grind up against random hot guys. Make out with a stranger. I love you, but be a little fucking unpredictable for a change. Whatever, just no crushes because, I swear to god, if you even say to me, ‘He’s really sweet, Marie! I could see myself going out with him!’, I will throw up. And if the words ‘boyfriend material’ come out of your mouth, then so help me,I’m leaving your ass in Florida.”

You are here for fun.

She couldn’t even fault her friend for the rant. Gwen formed attachments, real and imagined. Hell, she was about to celebrate her 11th anniversary of fake marriage to Dylan O’Brien even though she hadn’t watched anything with him in it in years. Almost every man she’d ever gone on a date with had been followed with a relationship that left a crater of ruinous magnitude. It drove perennial bachelorette Marie crazy considering she was always the one left behind to rip the empty cookie dough tub from her roommate’s death grip and hazmat the ground zero of all the balled-up tissues.

After the latest of Gwen’s embarrassingly short-lived “sure-thing” relationships blew up spectacularly in her face, her friend had taken her under her wing and planned to show her once and for all “how to put distance between your heart and your lady parts.”

“Let’s have a little fun at men’s expense,” Marie had proposed when she’d flaunted the extravagant hotel deal she’d scored in Gwen’s face.

Now a month later, and here they were, three nights in at a palatial hotel on Miami Beach with a pulsing club in its heart and a raucous party that trickled out onto its grand pool concourse.

Their deal had been a simple one. In exchange for saying “yes” to three bullet points on her roommate’s “good time list,” Marie would pay for the hotel rooms for their bachelorette weekend. The only other stipulation on top of that was absolutely, positively no relationships.

So far, Gwen had passed with flying colors. She’d let a man buy her a drink at the hotel bar, and she’d danced with a few strangers, all without a hint of attachment. The guys were an eclectic mix of hot that had Marie rubbing her hands together and muttering “Taste the rainbow” on ludicrous repeat, but that’s all they were—eye candy. Gwen could compartmentalize that. Her friend’s plan was working. She’d felt beautiful. She’d felt powerful. She’d felt in control of her heart for once. She was ready to conquer one last, more challenging bullet point.

“You’re young, you’re hot, but you’re too damn romantic,” Marie had scolded as she’d helped her friend accessorize before heading down for the night. “Tonight, remember your mantra. You’re here to have fun. You’re not going to invent a backstory for everyone you meet. It’s okay to be a little superficial sometimes.”

“I’m doing pretty good, aren’t I?”

“Killing it, in fact,” the spicy brunette agreed.

“Damnit, I’m still so nervous every time though,” Gwen admitted as Marie had smoothed out her friend’s blonde beachy waves.

“Yeah, I know, babe, which is why I keep urging you to dip your toe instead of deep-ending everything. Contrary to what your Nora Ephron-mutated heart tells you, ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the guys you meet aren’t marriage material for Gwen Goodwin.”

“What about the one who is?”

Marie bent down and kissed her friend’s cheek. “I don’t know, but I promise you this. You didn’t meet him last night, and you’re not going to meet him tonight.”

So it had all led up to this bullet point—a ridiculous line for body shots poolside.

“Come on, you picked the best one on the list! It’s harmless,” Marie had laughed as she escorted her friend into the line. “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton. Now, I'm going to go hit on that guy over there, and, god willing, have his beautiful, obscene mouth on mine for a bit, and you’re going to spin the roulette wheel of hot and put your beautiful, obscene mouth on someone’s sexy stomach. No regrets?”

“No regrets,” Gwen agreed.

“I’ll have my eye on you, babe. If you need me, text me,” she said as she flashed her smartwatch at Gwen.

“Will do.”

“Have fun! Love you!”

“Good luck!”

Gwen watched as Marie zig-zagged through several clusters of partygoers until she reached her target, a rather burly guy with stupendous shoulders accentuated by a compression tee. Gwen couldn’t see the guy’s face, but she could see her friend’s, and it was lit up with a smile the likes of which she had never seen from the girl. She kept her fingers crossed that things would pan out as her friend hoped.

Meanwhile, Gwen turned back to her line where the shot-takers waited alongside the line of human shot glasses. She was at least twenty people back from the table, so there was no way to know with whom she might be paired. There were just as many women in the shot glass line as there were men, all of them attractive at unprecedented levels. She was grateful she was in the line she’d chosen because she didn’t think she could survive someone of their sexiness putting their mouths on her stomach.

That’s when her eyes fell on him, the shot glass with the round face and flushed lips. He was tall and slender, dressed unassumingly for someone in his decidedly sexier line. He wore a plain black tee and a pair of slim fit jeans on legs that seemed double the length of the rest of him. Other than a few silver rings on his spindly fingers, his only accessory was a pair of now-pointless sunglasses sitting on top of his fluffy dark hair. There was nothing flashy about the guy, yet she somehow wished she had a pair of her own sunglasses just to look at him.

His toned arms were stacked loosely over a wide chest that pulled the tee at his shoulders. Pretty as he was, the man didn’t talk to a soul; if he knew any of the people around him, he didn’t let on. Instead, those big, inquisitive eyes busied themselves scanning the party like a prairie dog.

He looked at her suddenly then, and the weight of his attention made Gwen’s ankle give out in her stupid high heels. She wobbled back with a yelp, but, luckily, the girl behind her caught her elbow and helped her regain her balance.

“You all right?” the girl asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gwen mumbled along with an apology and her thanks.

“Walk much?” said some generic bro a few people back in line, and it felt like everyone at the party was looking at her.

Humiliated, Gwen risked a glance over at the shot glass, but he seemed to be the only one who had turned back, though she couldn’t help but think that a proud smile tugged at his lips.

She would give just about anything for her pajamas and a romantic comedy right about now. She contemplated slipping out of line and heading back to her room, but she’d have to clear it with Marie first because she didn’t want to just leave her friend in such a big crowd of strangers, so instead, she stayed the course with plans of making a hasty retreat right after.

As the EDM pulsed across the party deck and the palm trees shimmied overhead in the steady sea breeze, the lines dwindled quicker than she ever expected.

And of course, it was becoming abundantly clear that, short of someone passing out or running off at the last possible second, Gwen was going to be lapping tequila from the navel of the pretty boy with the prettier smile.

When there was just one couple left ahead of them, she thought about offering her spot to the nice girl behind her as a thank you. The ponytailed babe behind the pretty boy sported a crop top and a great set of abs, so technically, it would still be fun for Gwen without the creeping dread, but before she could ask the girl behind her to switch places, she heard the call from the bottle girl.

“Next!”

With a lump in her throat, Gwen approached the table alongside the man in the black shirt. He nodded to the girl behind the table and then to Gwen.

“Hey.”

“H-hey,” she said.

The bottle girl continued all business as she had that night, though she did offer the man a smile she did not offer Gwen.

While she paid for her shot, he climbed onto the bar counter easily and shimmied himself into the most comfortable position the hardwood would allow.

Everyone waited for the hem of his shirt to reveal his stomach, but it didn’t. Instead, he looked to Gwen.

“You want it, you have to do it,” he said with a toothy grin as his eyes flicked to his clothed torso.

Gwen glared at his stomach and then at his face. “Excuse me?”

He laughed and waved in surrender. “I’m kidding, just kidding!”

But it was now patently clear he knew he’d been the reason she’d stumbled, and she wasn’t going to let him halt her momentum.

You are here for fun.

Finally, the attendant grew too annoyed to keep her mouth shut and griped, “If you’re not going to take the shot, I have to—”

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it,” Gwen insisted, though she’d meant it more for her shot glass than her bartender.

With a glower at the long man stretched out before her, she pushed his shoulder back so he flattened out on the table, the grin still playing at his luscious lips finally disappearing with her determination. Her fingers curled around the hem of the t-shirt resting far too near the apex of his thighs, and, slowly, she pushed it up his abdomen. She could have just yanked it up, but she wanted to punish him for his teasing as much as she wanted to savor the reveal, so she let her palm drag across the yielding skin of his stomach.

A swath of flawless flesh appeared beneath her, tensing instinctively along the path her hand had set. Like the rest of his features, it was soft and inviting. He didn’t have washboard abs like many of the men who’d showcased on the table already; instead, she found a narrow waist flaring broader and broader the higher she pushed the shirt up his chest. His freshly tanned skin featured the gentlest dips and smoothest waves of skin she’d ever seen. His navel was delicate, cute even, though she’d never considered a bellybutton particularly cute before. All of it made Gwen’s throat feel far too dry.

The bottle girl didn’t even try to hide the way she chewed her own lip, but she poured a shot of crystalline liquid into the appetizing little divot anyway. Gwen’s shot glass laughed, borderline giggled, at the sensation, sending a slender river of booze cascading over his naked waistline.

“Cold,” he confessed.

“You’re up,” the bottle girl said to Gwen with a bitterness she also didn’t try to hide.

Gwen nodded and stole a quick glance at the man’s face. He’d propped his head on his hands now so he could watch the show and grinned so hard she expected his laugh to follow any second.

Her brow wrinkled. If he was going to play games with her, then she could damn well return the favor. Gwen splayed her hand at the hem of his jeans, her fingers spread between the contrast of silken flesh and harsh denim. She bent over and pressed her bottom lip into the pouch of skin at the edge of his navel and closed her top lip around it to form a seal. She sucked quickly, a little of his skin suctioning between her lips.

The man gasped, and his hand clasped reflexively to the back of her head as she drained the last of the liquor from his navel. The urge to kiss his tummy overwhelmed, but Gwen fought it off, though she couldn’t quite stand up with his hand still in her hair. Instead, she rolled her head to the side and caught his eye. The motion surprised him, and he yanked his hand back.

Gwen stood up and licked every honeyed droplet of booze from her lips. He tried to sit up, too, but distracted by the trail of her tongue, his hand slipped in an errant splash, and he fell back onto his elbows. It was her turn to savor a proud smile.

“One more?” asked Gwen hopefully.

He didn’t hesitate. “Okay, sure.”

“Another shot please,” she said to the bottle girl, thrusting out her card.

“Sure,” said the other woman with a well-practiced smile. “See you shortly.”

“What?”

“You can buy another shot, but you’ve got to hop back in line.”

“But we’re already here?” Gwen noted with a poignant look at the man’s exposed stomach.

“Not how it works, sweetie. See you in a bit. Next!”

With a resigned sigh, Gwen rejoined the crowd. There was only a slim hope of being paired up with the same guy again, but not knowing what else to do, she followed the snaking line to the end only to notice the man was nowhere to be found.

Gwen looked for Marie, but the crowd had swelled as the night had worn on, and she couldn't find her friend anywhere. No doubt, the girl was twirling in some random hot guy’s arms somewhere in the thicket of dancers at the other end of the concourse, but Gwen didn’t really feel like braving all those sweaty bodies.

You are here for fun.

It had been fun, she realized, but it was so short-lived that now that it was over, she also realized how little fun the rest of the night had been in comparison. Rather than spoil Marie’s good time, too, Gwen made her way to a poolside recliner and sat down to people-watch.

There were hundreds of beautiful people here, not that that was a surprise; short of some place like Los Angeles, she wasn’t sure where there was a more concentrated percentage of objective hotness. Everyone rocked a beach-ready body, many still clad in their actual swimsuits, and thanks to the tropical air, they all smelled of a perfume of sunscreen, booze, and sweat. Laughter and cheers crescendoed around her as drinks were downed and the music pumped up. Tiny asses nestled in gyrating groins as limbs snaked up and down strangers’ bodies.

But as much as there was to see, the truth was the one person Gwen wanted to watch was gone.

Another ten minutes or so had passed with her eyes firmly fixed on the body shot lines, but her shot glass never reappeared, and she found herself so painfully far from the “fun” she was supposed to be having that when a new guy sat down beside her and started to chat, she decided to invent a new backstory of her own considering Marie had banned her from inventing them for bachelors she’d met.

“I only found out mid-way through the pregnancy that my cousin was having my fiancé’s baby. So I said ‘screw them all,’ packed my shit, and drove straight down here to start having some of my own fun for once,” proclaimed Gwen with a whip and toss of her hair over her shoulder.

“Heavy,” said the bearded man with a smug, approving nod next to her, and she snickered to herself at the anticipatory predatory flash in his eyes.

But her fun at the stranger’s expense was also short-lived when she heard over her shoulder, “That’s some story.”

Gwen swiveled on her chaise to find the lithe stranger from the body shot line holding a mostly empty bottle of tequila with a spout already stuffed in its neck.

“Oh, hey,” she fumbled. “You’re still here.”

“I am.”

An awkward silenced stretched between them as she scrambled to figure out which version of herself she was supposed to be presenting.

Miraculously, the bearded man saved her at the last second. “Is this your friend?”

“Best friend actually,” said her former shot glass, “here to make sure she has all the fun she wants.”

Knowing his window had closed, the bearded man nodded and faded back into the crowd without so much as a wave goodbye, not that Gwen had room to spare another second for him now that pretty boy had returned.

“Was any of that story true?” her handsome stranger asked.

Gwen shrugged. “The having fun part is true enough. The rest might have been part of said fun.”

He smiled gently, his cheeks two kissable meringues as he added, “Sorry about before.”

“For what?”

His eyes cast down her leggings to her feet. “Is your ankle okay?”

“Oh.” Gwen wrinkled her nose and protested weakly, “Hey, that wasn’t you, you know.”

“No, of course not.”

“It was these stupid heels. I’m more of a sandals girl. I’m just not used to wearing them.”

He nodded though he was clearly suppressing a laugh. “I see. So I’m off the hook?”

Gwen cocked her head in mock consideration as she eyed the bottle in his silver-clad hand. “That depends. How are you going to make up for exposing a very tragic girl after she thought she’d gotten away with it?”

One of those rings clanked emphatically against the glass, ringing even above the club music. “What about offering a second shot like you wanted?”

He waggled the bottle for effect, the liquid inside splintering the pulsing lights.

Gwen squinted at him. “How did you…?”

He brought his finger to his lips and bent down to her ear. Thanks to the blaring music, even this close, he nearly had to shout, “I stole it.”

“What a rebel.”

“Yeah, well, I’m really motivated.”

“Uh, okay, sure. I guess that’s fair.”

“Good, because I’m all about fair. Come on. I’ll find us somewhere where you can take it.”

The innuendo simmered between them until Gwen’s thirst had expanded beyond the restraints of mere drink.

“There’s a lounger right here?” she suggested as she looked at the chaise, but he shook his head.

“That would draw to much attention. I’m a rebel and thief now, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. How could I forget?”

“Maybe we can head out to the beach, or,” the stranger hedged slowly, “I have a room upstairs if you want?”

His tone was matter-of-fact, considerate even, yet sin infused his bottomless brown eyes. It was a proposition Gwen had never considered. She was a fall-in-love not a fall-in-bed kind of girl.

But.

She was not going to fall in love on this trip, and she had never seen a man who looked like this one.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she pretended to mull it over and shrugged a shoulder to sell the act, though there had only ever been one possible outcome the moment her eyes had met his.

“Maybe it’s better if we go upstairs… I mean, we don’t want them to lock you up and throw away the key.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a smile that left little doubt how well he understood everything.

“Let me just make sure my friend is okay with it.”

He nodded, unfazed. “I’ll do the same.”

Both of them pulled out their phones, and Gwen sent a quick message to Marie.

When Gwen put away her phone, she found the man waiting with an expectant, squishy grin on his face.

“Is your friend all good?” he asked.

“All good. What about yours?”

He motioned through the crowd back toward the hotel, and as they walked, he said, “They’re all good. Turns out they all knew already. The friend who helped me distract the bartender told the rest of them anyway, which I should have figured, I guess.”

Gwen perked an eyebrow. “They knew when I didn’t, huh? You’re not just a rebel, but a cocky rebel.”

Her companion laughed and rubbed the back of his head in his chagrin. “Maybe I’m just more of a hopeful rebel. Or a lucky one seeing as I almost lost my chance.”

She laughed now, too. “Who? That guy? No way. I think I was just amusing myself since I was bored.”

“Bored? Here, I half-expected I’d find you back in the body shot line.”

“Well, I whole-hoped I’d find you back in it, too, but since you weren’t there, that poor guy had to hear a story I’m pretty sure I stole from a soap opera.”

Her companion smirked. “I guess that makes you a rebel and a thief, too.”

“I guess so.”

They chatted easily across the busy pool deck and all through the lobby, but the second the elevator doors closed them in alone together, the conversation clotted up. It was a long and mortifyingly unbroken trip to the twenty-second floor, and the only sounds were the shush-shush of the elevator and the dull thunk of the bottle as he tapped it against his thigh.

Suddenly, he cleared his throat. “Uh, kind of embarrassed to admit this, but it occurs to me I don’t know your name. I’m—”

“You know, let’s keep it that way for now, okay?” Gwen interrupted with a tight smile.

“Huh? Oh, sure, sure…” he agreed though he couldn’t have looked more floored.

“It's nothing personal. Actually, that’s sort of the point. I have a tendency to get carried away. It’s a long, boring story, ha. And a lot less colorful than my made-up ones.”

“I'm a good listener.”

“Yeah,” she said solemnly, “I can tell that about you. Which is definitely why I need to keep things firmly in the here and now.”

“Live in the moment, I can get behind that.”

“Cool.” Gwen turned hesitantly to him just as the doors to the elevator split wide. “So, is that okay with you? Because if it’s not, we’ll just toast to this super awkward elevator ride.”

The man motioned for her to go ahead of him into the hallway before he added, “I’m not the kind of guy to turn back.”

I can tell that, too… she thought resignedly.

He led Gwen down the chic hallway to his room, where she stopped short and pulled out her phone.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Just letting my friend know where I am.”

“That's smart,” he said with a nod. “I’m on notice now, huh?”

“You got that right, buddy.”

They shared a laugh, and again, Gwen was struck by how brightly the man’s face glowed and how engaging his laugh was. Another thought popped into her head just then.

“Speaking of...” she started as she raised her camera. “Smile?”

Without a trace of surprise or curiosity, he did, and it was so blinding, it threw off the exposure in her phone, which gave Gwen the perfect excuse to snap a few more.

“How did my mugshot come out?” he asked and craned his neck to steal a peek.

“You’re a matter of public record now, sir. But I imagine it will be the first mugshot to grace the cover of Vogue.”

“Nice.”

She stashed her phone without hitting send, with a small grin for her white lie. For some reason, Gwen couldn't bring herself to share him. But he didn't need to know that.

Meanwhile, the man fished his key card out of his too-tight jean pocket and ushered her inside. He took off his shoes as soon as he walked in, much to her relief, since it meant she could finally get out of her damn heels. When she looked back up, she was at a loss.

“Shit…”

His head whipped toward her, eyebrows pinched with concern. “Everything okay?”

“I mean… Your room is so much nicer than mine.”

He clutched his heart in mock relief before he said, “What’s your room like?”

“Not like this. Small and bayside. You have a balcony!”

“Oh, uh, yeah. It’s my friend’s bachelor party this weekend, so we all kind of went all out, I guess. You want to go out?”

“Hell yeah, I do!” Gwen squealed. She made a bee line past the enormous bed and whisked open the door.

The wind was stiffer twenty-two floors up, and it bombarded her skin, fresh and salty and a little sticky but uplifting. She breathed in deeply, a smile splitting her face. The half-moon shimmied across the Atlantic swells in time with the electronic beats filtering up from the party at the pool below. She couldn’t help herself—she waved at the partygoers even though they were far too small to see much this high up.

“Aw,” her companion said sweetly. “Waving to your friend?”

“Yeah,” replied Gwen with a blush. “Not that she’ll see me.”

He joined her in leaning on the railing and waving at his friends, too. When he looked back up, his smile shifted slightly, less silly and a lot sultrier. She cleared her throat lightly and headed back inside.

With her back to the huge bay windows, Gwen could finally take in the rest of the room. It was modern and cloaked in the same jeweled beach tones of her own, but it was much more spacious, with a desk and a sofa plus a pair of chairs, while, to the left behind a half-wall, the enormous bed stretched out beneath a large padded headboard.

With a tiny yelp, her companion scrambled over in a hurry to straighten the still-crumpled covers and even out the pillows.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he worked, “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like I make my bed on vacation. Or ever really.”

Gwen meant it, but that didn’t mean she could shake the undeniably sexy implication of those tossed sheet or the image of this beautiful man stretched out naked and languid in them.

Still, he dressed the bed as quickly as he could and turned around with a flushed face. Again, he mumbled, “Sorry.”

“No worries. Hey, do you care if I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, it’s right around there,” he replied, gesturing toward the other side of the bed.

It was really just an excuse to see how much fancier it was than her own, and it did not disappoint. Instead of just a shower stall, there was a huge walk-in surrounded by glass, and instantly, images of fogged windows with desperate hand smears flitted across her mind. Just around the corner was a deep jacuzzi tub that conjured just as many filthy thoughts.

This was progress, Gwen thought. Her libido was on overdrive, which meant she could safely put her heart in the backseat. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her waves had regrettably frizzed, and she’d sweated out a fair bit of makeup, but it did make her skin glow, even under the harsh LED lighting. After a quick freshen-up and a primp to make her chest is best perky self, she returned to find the man waiting in front of the main window, adjusting the tuck of his tee in his tiny waistline.

There was just something about him—his every gesture was sweet and sincere, completely without artifice. And just like that, her heart was threatening a comeback.

You are here for fun.

Gwen shuffled in with a short wave. “I think your bathroom might be as big as my hotel room.”

He grinned. “I think it’s bigger than my apartment honestly.”

“You mean you don’t live like a high roller every day?”

“Actually, I moonlight as a broke New Yorker.”

Oh shit, he’s not far from you, Gwennie…

“You’re ruining my fantasy of the millionaire playboy in town for a big business deal.”

“My apologies,” he joked with a bow.

“So, when’s the wedding?”

He cocked his head, and it was painfully cute. “The what?”

“Your friend’s wedding.”

“Oh, next month.”

“And the groom’s not going to be mad that you’ve abandoned him?”

The man smirked. “On the contrary. Pretty sure he’s looking for any excuse to get rid of me.”

“You really are public enemy number one, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, undisputed.”

As they came down from their laughter, Gwen realized how close they were standing. This close, those lips loomed like a full moon, and she basked in their plumpness. The heat between them brought the intoxicating tendrils of his cologne forward, a fresh brightness that matched his smile, though it occurred to her he may have stolen a moment to reapply it while she’d been in the bathroom. The thought made her swallow hard.

“You’re easy to talk to,” he confessed abruptly, and Gwen tensed all over.

You are here for fun.

“Even though we haven’t really talked about anything?” she retorted.

He shrugged one thick shoulder. “Maybe that’s why. I’m kind of a wallflower at parties. I mean, that whole body shot thing was just a dare from my friends anyway.”

“Mine was like that, too!” she blurted and immediately regretted it, the way he seemed to soften all over. It wasn’t just how gentle his already-round features looked, but he relaxed against the desk into a cool lean as his usually petal-shaped eyes widened with interest.

No backstories, Gwennie, she scolded herself. Put that distance between your heart and your lady parts!

“So that’s how it happens, huh?” she continued in a sultrier voice as her finger stroked the neck of the bottle. “You do one dare, and now, you’re a full-blown criminal mastermind?”

His voice had dropped, too, along with his eyelids. “Looks that way.”

“Are you a liar, too?”

“No! What?”

She chuckled and waved the bottle between them. “What about my second shot?”

“Oh, you were serious?”

Gwen gaped at him. “Aren’t you the one who stole the tequila?”

“That was just so I had an excuse to talk to you again.”

Oh no… He was painfully, unforgivably, patently cute. Gwen could practically hear Marie threatening to leave her in Florida.

“Ah,” she said to deflect, “so you did lure me here with empty promises.”

“No! I—"

“I’m teasing,” she assured, and as she studied his saucer eyes, she risked resting a hand on his bicep, which she had to stop herself from just straight up groping when she felt the twitching muscle beneath.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just… I never do stuff like this.”

“Like what? We haven’t done anything.” He looked helplessly at her, and Gwen chuckled again. “Sorry, still teasing. When I'm awkward, I make awkward jokes. I've never done anything like this either.”

“Like what?” he echoed, and they shared a tight smile, but it vanished when he looked at her much softer this time. “Seriously, I don't expect anything.”

You can't catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton…

“I know, but I do.” Gwen swished the bottle back and forth, and he offered what she could only type as a giggle.

“You’re right, you’re right. So, um, how do you want to…?”

He spun in a circle until he nearly made himself dizzy, and she grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

“Maybe, um, you should just lay on the bed?” she suggested.

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. So, I’ll just…”

“Get on the bed?”

“Get on the bed, yeah,” he repeated. The man spared a quick moment to smooth his shirt over his chest and run a hand back through his thick black hair, which had the most fatal way of feathering back across his forehead in a very regrettable heart shape.

Since the moment she’d met him, the man had possessed a magnetism that had set him apart from all the other hot people at the party, but here in his room, he was borderline pathetic, tromping around like a lost giraffe between the living room and the bed as he emptied his pockets between the desk and the bedside table. When, at last, he was ready, he walked to the foot of the bed and plopped down. He looked back at Gwen with a sheepish grin and comically high eyebrows.

“Ready?” she asked as she raised the bottle.

“If you are.”

She nodded and followed into the bedroom, and the air shifted. In here, it was hotter and even more humid than down at the beach but without the benefit of a breeze.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, and Gwen crawled on the bed beside him. She strategized on how to best take her shot, and while she positioned herself, her knees pressed into the mattress as she sat up, he untucked his shirt and raised it himself.

At the party, body shots had been a game. Here, it was foreplay. Judging from the blackness in his eyes, he knew it, too. He laid back and propped up just a bit on his elbows, which cupped his stomach just the right amount into the sweetest little bowl.

“It’s different,” he murmured.

“Yeah, it is,” she whispered, too, because somehow every thing, every word, felt very loud. “I can take my time now.”

He didn’t say anything. He just waited.

Gwen lifted the bottle, and, as carefully as she could, she tipped it until a golden thread puddled at his belly. He didn’t flinch this time. Instead, he sucked in a breath which deepened the cup at his navel, and she was only too happy to fill it to its tasty brim.

“Perfect,” she said as she set the bottle on the floor. “Don’t move.”

She braced her hands on his thigh and his ribcage and bent forward. Her lips glossed the velvety skin there before she opened her mouth and sucked up the sweet, smooth liquor all too quickly. This time, though, she spared a moment to dip her tongue into the divot, and this made the man beneath her hiss.

She licked her lips and ventured a look up his heaving torso to find him totally expressionless save for his overblown pupils.

“Satisfied?” he asked in a voice swollen with the same darkness.

Gwen shook her head lightly. “Still thirsty.”

But she did not reach for the bottle. Instead, she put her lips to his stomach and sampled a new patch of skin. It yielded beneath her, and so did he. He let out a low groan that tightened the muscles under her lips.

Another kiss led to another and then one more as she nipped and nibbled at the tender flesh. There was something about the man that was simply and undeniably edible, and no matter how much she tasted, she could not get enough. Gwen helped herself all the way up to the delicious flare of his rib cage, and at the swell there, she risked a swirl of her tongue. His head snapped up as he panted out a heavy pair of breaths.

“You're driving me crazy,” he said with a slanted smile.

“I could say the same,” she agreed, and when she brought attention back to his stomach, she noticed a lonely freckle at his hip. Her lips raced to devour it, this time adding a graze of her teeth. He jolted.

“That tickles!” he exclaimed though it was followed by another groan.

Gwen responded with another twirl of her tongue to savor the salt on his skin, and the groan became an outright moan. Emboldened by each grateful sound, her hand slid slowly up his thigh, and soon, it bumped a rigid hill smothered by tight denim.

At the first graze, he jolted again but followed it with a simmering hiss as his hips bucked reflexively into her hand. His eagerness was going to Gwen’s head. She wanted more of his pretty moans. She wanted more of his pretty body.

Her hand moved more brazenly to stroke the outline of the intensifying hardness, but this time, she was the one moaning at the way his bulge filled her palm. Her forehead pressed into that gentle stomach as she rested her lips lazily at his hip bone. Meanwhile, her fingertips traveled up the zipper to the waist of his jeans and swept back and forth before her thumb centered over the button there.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

Gwen kissed his hip again before she answered, “You told me if I wanted it, I had to do it.”

“Ah, I said that, didn't I?”

“You did. And I want it.”

He sat up higher now, expectation on his face. He drew his lush bottom lip between his teeth, and that alone set Gwen’s blood aflame.

Without another thought, she placed a garland of kisses along the waist of his jeans, and when she undid the button there, her lips raced to taste the secret skin she’d exposed. Dimly, she realized she was getting too carried away on a chance encounter, but she couldn't stop.

She couldn’t stop.

The further her mouth charted down the open zipper track, the more powerful her desire grew. She smelled his cologne here, too, bright like the tropical air but deepening down to dark woods on a second, greedier inhale. And beneath all that was the smell of him.

Too hungry now, Gwen hooked her hands in his jeans and tugged down. He lifted his hips with zero hesitation, and soon enough, she had full access to all that she desired. She swept her hand over the black fabric still sheltering him and felt him lurch. She hummed.

Slowly, she peeled down the hem of his boxer briefs, and his cock sprung up gratefully. Above her, her pretty boy exhaled hard, which only grew raspier as her skin touched his rawness at last.

Gwen’s romantic heart had drawn her to a number of beds over the years, and she’d enjoyed some decent sex in that time, but even without entering her, she knew this man was special. All his skin had been babied, but here, he was silkiest, like satin over marble. One touch was enough to fuel an addiction that sent a blaring alarm of dread to the back of her mind that she might never touch another cock that felt like it was made just to please her.

She danced her fingertips down his wickedly hard length until she got to his base, where she squeezed appreciatively. He hissed and hummed and arched his back before he mumbled something low and deep that she wished she could make out because just the echo of its echo sounded devastating.

Gwen didn’t intend to take things so leisurely—she knew she shouldn’t be—but it seemed foolish to fast forward through what had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met. Her friend’s rules be damned, she was going to enjoy every second for as long as she could make it last.

He was watching her, open-mouthed, as she held him. Their eyes met. Her breath caught.

Gwen wet her lips and pressed them to his hot, red tip and let her tongue curl into the smooth channel underneath. Her beautiful stranger let out the raspiest groan as his face disappeared from her view to sag under the weight of pleasure.

Spurred on, she invited him into her mouth now, shallow at first, but a little greedier with each pass until she could take what she could of him to the back of her throat. When she was comfortable, she found the perfect rhythm to have him singing for her with every eager suck.

And he was so noisy. It wasn’t filthy words or heaps of degradation like she’d heard plenty of times before. Between his moans and the grunts and the achy sighs, Gwen realized she’d never been with a man who had appreciated her more. It was filling her up with not just pride but confidence, and it made her want to ruin him even further.

His hand came to rest on the back of her head, but she quickly plucked it aside and pressed it into the mattress. For the briefest of moments, she released him to mumble, “Stay still.”

His shaky “okay” made her chest feel swimmy, and, instead, he balled two handfuls of sheets. But the man couldn’t help himself. Though he was hanging onto the bed with white knuckles, his hips took to lifting from the mattress, and she had to force them back down, too. She knew with just a little more speed and the addition of a helpful hand, she would get him off in no time, but she was having so much fun.

It didn’t hurt that all his whining was getting her off, too, even without a single touch. Gwen couldn’t remember a time she’d been so wet or so turned on.

Again, the stranger moaned, but this time, he added with a thick rasp, “You’re incredible. You might be my dream girl.”

It was her turn to whimper, but the vibrations traveled not just through her body and straight to her throbbing clit, but they also traveled down his length in a circuit of pleasure. He sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth as his legs tensed and struggled in the confines of the jeans still cuffing his knees.

“Can I—” he said before another grunt cut him off. “Wait. Can I just—fuck—can we take these pants off? I want to feel more of you.”

Gwen startled. She sat up on the bed and watched, numb with anticipation, as the man practically had to peel off his skinny jeans. He worked as quickly as he could, but it afforded her a flash of an ass as cute and smooth as his stomach and legs as long and delicate as his fingers. When he sat back down at the edge of the bed, he pulled off his shirt, too.

When she came to his room, Gwen hadn’t really known what to expect. It was clear they would end up in bed, but, for some reason, she never expected them to be fully naked. Now that things had taken a much more intimate turn, the casual momentum she had built quickly siphoned away.

This time, he didn’t lay back.

Here, he sat—breathless, naked, gripping his glistening cock, and staring hopefully at her.

“I’d really like to see you, too,” he asked.

As soon as he voiced his throaty wish, a fresh torrent of lust leaked between her pressed thighs. If she had worn the minidress Marie had pitched, there would have been no hiding it.

Gwen wanted to be coy or funny or anything other than tragically eager for this man, but how could she say no to such hopeful eyes and freckled lips?

With a red face and sweaty hands, she slipped out of her shirt, leaving her in her bra and leggings. She’d been wearing the same damn burgundy lace piece for two years, but now her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t undo the last clasp she’d put on hundreds of times.

He smiled knowingly and leaned in to wrap his arms around her. It only took him a moment to rescue her, but in his arms, time had stopped. Skin to skin changed everything. Gwen was spiraling, and the only way to make it stop was to steer into her tailspin.

Their lips met not in a clatter, but gently and with curiosity. Even at first brush, the way his puffy top lip notched into the crease of her lips felt like habit, like it had been there many times before and should return countless more times.

His hands cupped her cheeks briefly before they slid back in tandem to tangle in her disheveled waves. Only then, as he held her fiercely, did his tongue slip into her mouth to their shared whimper. One of his hands glided from her hair, down the back of her neck and over her shoulder, fingertips dancing like raindrops with the same biting chill thanks to the metal at his knuckles. He traced the side of her breast and then its underside all while his lips meshed with hers and his tongue curled deliciously against the roof of her mouth.

Trapped in the riptide of the moment, Gwen reached for him, too. His skin was just as soft at his neck and shoulders as it was at his waist, and she couldn’t stop stroking every inch she could access. He was only too happy to encourage her touches, even going so far to redirect her hand from his ribs to his hair like he wanted her to pet him. She let out a needy sigh that his mouth immediately gobbled up.

It wasn’t a surprise that the man was an attentive kisser. What surprised Gwen was how much she felt in the kiss. He was pouring something into her even as he seemed to drink from her, and she didn’t want it to stop.

She didn’t want it to ever stop.

You are here for fun.

Marie’s voice in the back of Gwen’s head was the ice water the blonde needed to disentangle from her beautiful stranger. Because that was all he was.

A beautiful stranger.

Gwen pulled back. He blinked slowly at her, but she kissed his flushed lips briefly to soften the transition. The hand of hers he’d placed in his hair drifted down his arm to his thigh, and whatever emotion had knitted his brows a moment ago corrupted. With a gnaw of her bottom lip, she slipped off the bed to the floor. His eyes followed.

He didn’t ask Gwen to kneel between his legs, but he didn’t have to. She was getting good at telling exactly what he’d like best—far too good at it.

His thighs were much creamier than the Florida caramel that warmed the rest of him, and as she shuffled into position between them, her hands worked higher and higher up their breadth. His knees tightened at her shoulders. Now that she was shirtless, she had no defense against the zaps of electricity that came with each stolen moment of raw contact.

His cock strained between his hips, the head shiny with lust and the veins pulsing along its length. Gwen gripped his hilt and stroked a few times, and he sighed in relief.

Now that he was sitting up, their dynamic swapped. He loomed over her. Shadows darkened what had always been a bright face. His enormous hands braced at the edge of the bed, firing prominent veins along his forearms. His shoulders corded with heavy muscle previously concealed by his round edges. The planes of his stomach creased as he bent over her. He wasn’t about to neglect even a second of his front row seat.

Gwen brought her lips back to his member and picked right back up where she’d left off, only this time she was noisier. Wet slurps and hungry hums echoed up from between his legs, and with each one, he got a little louder, too.

This time when his massive hand curled around the back of her head, Gwen reveled in it. His nails scratched deliciously against her scalp as he threaded her hair through those elegant fingers and tugged mindlessly. She was grateful she’d forgotten to strip off her leggings or she would have been dripping shamelessly on the carpet.

At last, she picked up speed, so she closed her eyes and concentrated on her seal around his demanding thickness. Her lips chased her fist up and down his shaft so he was never without a moment of her full attention.

The messier she savored him, the more urgent his whines got and the more he bucked underneath her. The hand in her hair was now a fist full of a makeshift ponytail. Mouth full, she raised her eyes to his face. A swirl of her tongue around his tip was all it took to rip a cry from his hunkered chest.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he demanded and pushed her shoulders back. “Wow, okay, you have to stop. I’m going to cum.”

“That’s the idea,” Gwen replied as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

But the man shook his head. “I want to make this last, and I definitely don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You’re not.”

“Good… Good.”

A pregnant silence fell between them. Both of them considered where to direct the needle of their night next, but he was faster.

“You know, the view from up here really is something,” he said.

“Ha ha,” Gwen said drily, but the earnest look on his face knocked her sarcasm down a few pegs.

“Come up and see.”

He offered both his hands, and once she took them, he helped her up to the edge of the bed. When she was seated beside him again, he kissed her sweetly.

When he stopped, his forehead rocked against hers, and her eyes fluttered open.

“I really want to taste you,” he confessed in a whisper.

Gwen swallowed hard.

“You do?”

“Desperately.”

“It’s just—” she fumbled, painfully aware of the panic in her voice.

“You don’t want me to?”

She didn’t know how to explain herself without pitiful embarrassment. Most of the men Gwen had dated were keen for a blowjob but always had a dozen reasons to move things along right after. Over time, it had given her a heavy insecurity, which Marie had always assured her was utter bullshit, yet still it persisted. Gwen didn’t think she could recover from someone this desirable rejecting her, even if he was a total stranger.

“No, I mean, yeah, if you really want,” she blundered, “but… it’s just—”

She bit her lip, and he cocked his head patiently. His hand squeezed her knee, and the words came tumbling out of her mouth.

“I’m kind of a mess down there.”

“Yeah?” he said hopefully—to her complete and utter shock. “Come on, you can’t tease me like that. Now, I have to taste you.”

“What if— It might take me awhile,” she admitted from behind her hands.

Gently, he lowered them from her face to her lap, where he held them like a friend, though his hooded eyes and honeyed voice told a very different story.

“I hope it does.”

Gwen gasped and closed her eyes to steady herself. “What about you?”

He laughed. “This is about me.”

The best she could manage was a slow nod, but that was all the stranger needed.

He dropped to his knees on the floor and spread her legs enough to rub his huge palms up her thighs and back down again. The more he soothed her, the more her legs parted on their own so he could sit taller—and closer—between them. On the next sweep up, his hands lingered at the crest of her thighs so his thumbs could stroke over her swollen sex still imprisoned in her leggings.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“So good,” she replied as she collapsed onto the mattress and threw an arm over her eyes.

“Good. You can watch if you want, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’d recover from something like that. You’re, like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen as it is. That might actually ruin me for life.”

He chuckled, but it was tainted with pride. “Maybe that’s the idea.”

Gwen shot up to her elbows to argue, but that was the exact moment the man wriggled his slender fingers under her waistband and then her underwear to peel them both off. Cold air attacked her core, and though it was a relief to finally be free of her sticky prison, she was unprepared for the pad of his finger to graze over the seam of her lips. She shivered and whined.

He hummed. “You’re really feeding my ego here, sweetheart.”

His thumbs resumed the same stroke as before, but since it was over her bare lips this time, the intensity amplified exponentially. Each wave parted her folds a bit, and there was no escaping the knowledge that her arousal leaked heavily every time.

“What a pretty sight,” he murmured.

Foolishly, Gwen stole a look at the man, and the image of his keen eyes fixed on her wet cunt branded her brain just as she’d feared. She whimpered, zipping her bottom lip between her teeth to near shreds as he played with her.

She felt the first brush of his lips against her not in the careless rush of an obligation but as a leisurely kiss of a seasoned lover. There, his mouth lingered only to part for his purposeful tongue. He licked up along her seam once—twice—and on the third pass, his fingers parted her core wide. The exposure had her keening mindlessly, but when his tongue swiped through the secret skin, she cried at the top of her lungs. Her arm pressed over her eyes hard enough to create starbursts behind her lids while her other arm pressed over her mouth.

For just a moment, he pulled back. Another burst of cool air blasted her core as he hummed again, this time dreamily. “Perfect.”

He kissed the meat of her thigh once, and then drove on heedlessly. He teased her entrance for a moment before he swirled that wicked tongue around her clit with a mind-numbing rhythm. Through all of it, Gwen sank deeper into pleasure. As vocal as he had been, she managed to outdo him even with her makeshift gag. It was completely mortifying but also completely out of her control.

He didn’t try to stop her writhing or her moaning. Instead, he used them both to his advantage. Whenever she squirmed, he chased, and it made the promise of release a near certainty.

It was incredible. It was terrifying.

It shouldn’t be this easy. It had never been this easy before.

Gwen felt the blossom of his lips nibbling at her aching clit, and before she could brace herself, he’d taken her in his mouth. It wasn’t just his delicious suction that made her lungs seize but the way his tongue undulated across her eager bud.

And then he pressed a fingertip to her entrance.

Gwen’s hands flew to the sheets and dug into the mattress. Her head snapped up as she screamed, “Oh my god!”

Her eyes flew open. He was waiting.

Damn heart-shaped hair and damn heavy eyes stole what was left of her sanity right before he eased his finger inside her.

At least the unprecedented bliss gave Gwen the small mercy of forcing her flat to the bed. Her back arched, her nipples tightened, and her voice gave out. The only thing she could do was pant like some unbound creature.

His fingers were so long—world-record long, she thought drunkenly—and they explored parts of her she’d never even known were there. He didn’t race through her either, but primed her the same as she’d primed him, the devil. In only a matter of a few plunges, he knew her in ways she’d never even known herself.

In and out, in and out, he pumped that perilously long finger, each stroke sealed with a kiss of metal and knuckle. Her body hungered louder and messier, worse even than she’d promised him. Her shameless pussy dribbled like it had never been touched before, and Gwen was very, very glad she could hide in the crook of her arm.

And then he added a second finger.

The stretch was vision-whitening, the depth dizzying, but still his tongue insisted on speeding her to her ledge. Even with her face covered, she turned away because looking at him was like risking looking into the sun.

“I’m going to— I’m going to—” she stammered.

His mouth lifted then, but before Gwen could protest, he brought his other fingers to her clit. There, he kept a thorough pace just shy of what she needed. No doubt, he knew it just as she had known it with him, but with the tables turned, it felt unexpectedly cruel.

As if to contradict that, he tenderly kissed her thigh, and basic instinct drove her to look at him.

He smiled at her, and, with grit in his voice, he asked, “You going to cum for me, beautiful?”

“Yes!” cried Gwen, shuddering on his fingers. “Yes, yes, yes!”

His fingers moved faster now, across her throbbing hill as well as inside her. Pressure like she’d never felt built between her hips. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to think.

And it all happened faster than she could ever have imagined.

She unwound.

Eyes winched shut, Gwen tore at the sheets as she arched, every muscle clamped in ecstasy, before everything released and she slumped glassy-eyed onto the mattress. Somewhere below her, she heard a little refrain of happy hums and dimly felt the slick circle of a tongue collecting all that she had released.

She panted as she came down from her high, her arm flung over her face once again, feeling everything and nothing all at once. As she worked to center herself, Gwen shivered.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” said the stranger who was once again idly massaging her thighs, this time with the most delicious domesticity. “You kind of glow when you cum.”

“Oh, shut up!” she wailed as she curled into a ball.

“What? Sorry, but I mean it. You do this cute little thing with your toes, like a kitten paw.”

Gwen heard him pantomiming something in the sheets, but she was too busy cringing into another universe, one where she’d kept at least a little of her dignity. She burrowed her head deeper into her arms to fight back how endearing she found him.

“Hey,” he said with the sincerity of concern. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

“You liked it, right?”

Gwen peeked out through a small window behind her arms and found the man seated beside her on the bed. He looked down at her with eyes no longer blackened exclusively by desire but softened with care. She bit her lip and lifted her head as she held his gaze.

A beat passed before she said, “I loved it.”

“Well then, if that’s the case…” he said softly.

He leaned down and kissed her as lightly as a feather brushing skin. When he pulled back, there was the sweet temptation of darkness tinting his eyes once more.

“Will you let me inside you?”

“Why did you have to say it like that?” whimpered Gwen as she flopped back onto the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he said though he sounded anything but. “Is this better? Please let me fuck you.”

She hissed. “You’re a terrible, terrible man.”

“Yeah, but I’ll make you feel so good, and I did ask nicely.”

“You did…” she murmured as she leaned up.

Their lips barely had time to fully enmesh because he had to help guide her up to the pillows since the only thing she could manage for the moment was a beached fish, half-hearted wiggle.

If Gwen thought she’d have a moment to recover between heated kisses, she was dead wrong. He caged her in beneath him, his heavy cock thudding unmistakably against her mound as his body flattened against hers. Her legs spread instinctively. Perhaps she should have taken the many, many hints that she would never have any control over herself with this man, but the way her body simply opened for him was more than a little pathetic.

At first, she threaded both hands in his hair, and he groaned into her mouth, but every little thing he did made her restless for more. She kept a hand fixed in his hair while the other now squeezed and groped the length of his back. Even if she couldn’t see it at the moment, his shape drove her wild. Not only did his definition heat her hotter than she’d ever felt in her life, but, fully pressed against hers, his skin was as decadent as cashmere.

His member, on the other hand, was as heavy and demanding as a stone on her mound. Every time he rutted against her, the base of his shaft brushing her engorged folds, she lost a little more of her sanity. She could probably cum again just like this, completely empty and yet feeling so fulfilled.

They passed some time in each other’s mouths without further expectation, but the weightier his cock pressed, the more impossible it was to ignore her basest needs. As he’d been able to do all night, he read her easily.

Unwilling to leave her lips, he groped blindly at the nightstand until he’d found what he was looking for and had to break their kiss. He held up a condom, his eyebrows up on his sweet, swollen-lipped face with the unasked question.

“Forget it,” Gwen said with a huff. “We’ve already crossed the line, I’m on the pill, and I really just want to feel you.”

“Oh, shit, are you—” he said, but she cupped his cheeks and kissed him hungrily.

She was being stupid, but the fuck if she cared.

Gwen whimpered with every sweep of his tongue, but those gave way to hitching cries as his long fingers trailed from her cheek down her arm to her hip where they danced in unreadable designs across her flesh. It was so playful, so charming that her heart fluttered to a totally different rhythm than it had all night. And that was dangerous. She needed to move this along at last.

You are here for fun.

Her hips jerked beneath him, tilting up in a kiss far filthier and needier than even their mouths’, and he pulled back with a ragged hiss.

“You are so wet again,” he growled with a glance down between their bodies.

“I can’t help what you’re doing to me.”

He cocked his head to the side, looking handsomer than any man really had a right. “Yeah?”

“Yes…” she sighed. “You make me so desperate.”

She drove her hips up again, her overheated sex grazing his base once more. His eyes flared, and Gwen felt the urge to cower.

Suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pushed it above her head, pinning it there by her wrist.

Dimly, the bass from the music far below drummed through the walls, but it was little more than a backing track to their tattered breath.

His stare was more commanding, more powerful even than the hot-forged iron branding her just shy of her center.

“I—”

Despite how badly Gwen yearned to hear the rest, he let whatever thought it was simmer on the heavily perfumed air enveloping them. His eyes searched her, from his ring-clad hand clasping her wrist to her sweat-studded breasts and back, at last, to her parted mouth.

He dove back down to her lips with another growl while his other hand fumbled between their bodies. After a moment, his hips lifted, and she felt the blunt head of his cock at her entrance at last.

She needed air to calm her ragged nerves, but thief that he was, he stole everything from her with another nibble of her lips. As his tongue entered her mouth again, he pushed his length inside her walls.

Gwen tore from his kiss to unleash the reediest moan of her life.

“Oh fuck,” he grunted. “Did you feel that?”

She had no idea what he meant, which made it all the more dangerous because she knew exactly what she felt.

Everything.

Why did he have to kiss her just then?

Why did he have to fill her like he was the only one who should ever do it again?

You’re idealizing, Gwennie, she scrambled to remind her sex-saturated mind, but she couldn’t convince herself to stop even if she knew she was. This was a man who was every bit as perfect as her stupid romantic self wanted to believe.

All Gwen could do was moan and grasp the back of his head.

He followed the weight of her hand and pressed his face into the juncture of her neck to kiss her reverentially.

“Go slow,” she implored.

He hummed in agreement and eased his hips back to draw his length to its limit before gliding back in as though he were savoring her. The moment he bottomed out, her mouth fell open in a silent wail. Gwen had never felt so full.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Open up for me.”

His voice penetrated as deeply as his cock and rendered her putty in his hands.

Each sweep of his hips was catastrophic, but it was even worse since his body smothered hers. It was too much and not enough all at once, and Gwen was glad she didn’t have use of her other hand or she’d have wrapped him up in her arms already.

She thought after the first few strokes that he’d pick up speed, but he seemed content to while away their night just like this. The only change to his smooth rhythm was the rough emphasis he added to his every thrust that drove the air out of her lungs each time. It was like he was trying to drive deeper and deeper and deeper inside of her.

Each penetration afforded her the sexiest view of the horizon of his body, and now that she was this far gone, she lifted her head so she wouldn't miss another moment. He moved with the grace of water, and the current threatened to drown her just as easily. The swell of his ass rose and fell over the heave of his back.

His whines and grunts came back with a vengeance, with the added mercilessness of being uttered along her skin. It was a devastating reminder that as much pleasure as she drew from him, he was just as greedy for her body, too.

“Need to fuck you harder,” he warned in a voice heavy with gravel. “I need to.”

“I want you to,” Gwen echoed.

If she thought this would be the reason he pulled back from this ridiculous intimacy, she was dead wrong. Instead, he stilled inside her as he lifted to his elbows, but it only brought his searing gaze to her. His enormous hand soared up to cup her cheek. His thumb traced her bottom lip before, at last, he planted his hand firmly on the mattress.

His first few thrusts stayed slow, but soon he gained speed and, with it, power. His hips slapped against hers, and each time, it sounded wetter and wetter, but it all should have been louder.

The difference was, now that they couldn’t tear their eyes away from one another, neither seemed capable of making a sound. It was all Gwen could do to remember to breathe.

Harder and harder, he drove into her until her tits were bouncing and each fuck pushed rhythmic, vibrating cries from her. Still, she could tell they were both holding something back from one another.

They knew the moment they ended, whatever this was had to end, too.

His luscious mouth parted. There were words there, half-formed, but those he held back, too, though she starved to know them.

The next thing Gwen knew, he released her wrist to push her knee up and back. The angle shifted, and she had no choice but to rip her eyes from his to watch as his cock disappeared inside her greedy cunt.

She let out a tattered moan before she hiccupped out, “So. Fucking. Good.”

“I want to be deeper,” he answered back.

Gwen’s eyes rolled back in her head. “You’re—ah—you’re already so deep.”

But he didn’t seem to hear her. He dropped to her chest again, his hips rutting truly desperately at last. He buried his face in her neck and his nose in her hair as his lips glanced across her skin in the unintentional kiss that came with every thrust.

“Deeper…” he murmured as though hypnotized.

“Oh my god!”

He hitched her thigh higher up his side so she could feel with devastating consequence the way his ribs flared with every frantic gulp of air.

“Wrap your leg around me,” he instructed.

Gwen dug her heel into the meat of his back, and he grunted, but it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Hold me tighter, please.”

As she’d feared, it was a mistake the moment she wrapped her arms around him. Strangers fucking didn’t embrace. Yet here she was, clinging on with the last of her sanity to his sturdy shoulder blades.

He smelled so good—like sex and summer—and it imprinted on her mind.

“So. Deep,” she stuttered.

The way he stretched her out clouded her mind until the only thing she could find through the fog was him.

How could he possess her so fully but make her so desperate for more of him?

Him.

“Give me your hand,” he demanded in a rush.

Gwen let one hand fall from his back to the bed, and he grabbed it quickly and pushed it up over her head again, only this time, his fingers threaded through hers and squeezed as tightly as her walls squeezed his shaft.

His thrusts switched to shorter, shallower, much faster now. Each time, his cockhead brushed over a spot inside her that robbed her of all sound and all thought. Just like that, he’d reduced her to nothing but quivering nerves and trembling muscles.

Gwen dug her nails roughly into his back same as she squeezed his hand and let him ride her for all she was worth.

Since his cheek pressed against hers, she heard his every grunt in relentless stereo. He was too needy, too desperate. It was only magnifying those same feelings inside her.

Her skin burned with sweat. Her eyes burned from squeezing them against the overwhelming pleasure. Her core burned from the friction of his perfect fucking.

He was panting in her ear, and she could feel the curl of his lip as he snarled.

Gwen moved her free hand into his hair as she clutched his head to her like a lover.

“Baby,” she cried, “baby, I’m going to cum again.”

He let out the most pitiful whine she’d ever heard in her life as his hips spurred even faster.

“Baby.”

The pull was there, starting at her chest and dragging her down.

Down.

Down.

“Give it to me,” he urged, the words nearly broken under the crushing weight of his desperation.

“Baby!”

This time when Gwen said it, it was a strangled little thing, the last breath of a woman before she disappeared beneath the waves.

It was different, cumming with his cock inside her instead of his fingers. Her walls frantically beckoned him to disappear within her, willing him to never leave. She shivered and shook and screamed with the power of a release she’d never thought herself capable.

He fucked her through it all, the smoky curl of his self-satisfied “yes…” unfurling across her skin.

And when at last Gwen had no more aftershocks to give, she laid there too limp to hold on to him at all. Her leg slipped to the bed and her hand from his hair and her fingers slackened in his, though he refused to let her go.

His strokes had grown erratic, each one accompanied by the sloppy sounds of her catastrophic release.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he said hurriedly.

Gwen knew what she wanted—what her body was demanding. She wanted him to fill her up. She wanted this perfectly handsome perfect stranger to cum deep inside her so she should could hold on to a little bit of him even after she walked out the door.

But this was the end—not just of their passionate sex but their time together. If she didn’t put distance between them right now, she was in for an even more terrible fall.

No feelings, just sex.

“My face,” she blurted.

Gwen regretted it instantly. That wasn’t what she wanted at all, and she braced for the humiliation she deserved.

But, instead, he pulled out with a strangled cry and came in the tangle of bed sheets beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he managed between heaves of breath and frantic jerks of his spasming cock. “I’m sorry.”

She watched his broad, glistening back flare as he hid himself from her, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to touch him. Her fingertips slipped in the sheen of sweat there, and his head whipped back toward her.

“I couldn’t do that,” he said dejectedly. “You’re just so pretty, I’m sorry. I know that’s what you wanted, but—”

“I didn’t mean it anyway,” she said. “I don’t know why I said it.”

Something fluttered across his dark features before his brow furrowed, and he turned away again. “Damnit, I should have never listened to my friends.”

Gwen quirked her head even as she covered up with the sheet. “Your friends?”

The man tumbled onto the mattress and spread out like a winded starfish without a single care for his nakedness, and she felt a little shame at the way she ogled that delicious stomach and his softening length now glossy and still leaking onto his thigh.

He sighed.

He was so different now from the dark, intense man he’d been only moments ago. Back was the brilliance that emanated from within that almost compelled Gwen to close her eyes when she looked at him. She could hardly believe it was the same man who’d brought her to two earth-shaking orgasms in no time at all.

“Can I confess something to you?” he said.

Gwen tensed all over, but she managed a nod of her head. “Okay.”

“This isn’t really my thing,” he continued, and her heart plummeted in ways it shouldn’t considering she’d just fucked a total stranger.

“Oh…”

Gwen realized too late how apparent the disappointment in her voice was when the man shot up and swiveled to her, his hands waving in defense. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear! I mean, I have a hard time keeping things… simple. It wasn’t just the body shot thing that was a dare. Tonight was kind of my friends’ idea. They want me to be more… unattached, I guess?”

“That’s what my friend said, too,” Gwen laughed.

“Really?” He joined her laugh until, finally, his shoulders sagged with a light sigh as he covered his lower half with the sheet at last.

“Yeah.”

“I thought I was doing pretty good there, too, but— That was just so much more than I ever expected—you’re kind of more than I expected—and I really don’t want you to think I was just using you.”

“I don’t.”

“Good. Because…” He paused then, massaging his lips together as his eyes fell to his lap. “I think their dare kind of backfired anyway. Or it’s entirely possible I’m a hopeless case. So… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow?”

At this, Gwen stiffened. Her eyes snagged on his naked frame. Though the sheet swaddled his hips and thighs, it did nothing to hide his tummy or his shoulders or his bowed head, nor did it conceal his pencil legs and feet poking sweetly over the edge of the bed. And then she realized they were both tucked under that sheet, and it would be so, so easy to just lay back and fall asleep with him.

There it was again, that urge to romanticize someone she didn’t even know, yet everything about the guy screamed boyfriend—or worse.

Oh no.

Boyfriend.

The one word Marie had made Gwen swear not to use this weekend.

And damned if her roommate hadn’t been right all along. The hard truth was, Gwen didn’t know this man. She didn’t know what he did, she didn’t know his past, she didn’t know his ethnicity or even his damn name, and that was all there was to it. To assign any more meaning to it was every bit as foolish as everyone always reminded her she was.

Dread welled in her stomach and weighted her limbs. The best Gwen could do was offer a tight smile. “I’d really like that, but my friend has our whole day planned.”

“Oh.” He looked crestfallen, but he picked himself up quickly and slipped out of the bed in a shy, awkward rush while trying to keep his modesty with the edge of the sheet still draped around his hips. He stretched out his leg as far as he could to hook the band of his jeans with his toe. He tried to keep conversation flowing even as he struggled with the cutest little grunts very different to the ones that had just been uttered for her ears only. “Oh yeah? Going to check out the beach or the city?”

“I’m not sure,” Gwen said. The truth was they had no plans, but she had to lie because her whole body screamed to meet him again, and if she did, there was no way of keeping things superficial. The man was too cute, too sincere, and far, far too sexy to turn down a second time. “I’m not one for itineraries. I kind of go where my heart leads me.”

He stopped, jeans sagging in hand as he looked at her with a gentle smile. “Yeah, same.”

But then his smile fell away, and he raced to shimmy into his jeans, too in a hurry to even bother with his underwear, and Gwen turned her head and busied herself poking at the remote on the bedside table.

Over her shoulder, she asked, “So, what will you guys get up to then? More bachelor party stuff?”

“I never can tell with them. Even when one of the guys makes plans, the others always seem to change them. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Easiest way to get through life,” she agreed. Gwen wanted to flinch at her own voice, but she didn’t want to call any more attention to her terrible bedside manner than she already had.

In the end, it didn’t matter. The man beside her was too perceptive, and he picked up her cues instantly. “Let me just grab the rest of my clothes and clean up in the bathroom so you can get dressed.”

“Would you mind if I go first? You know, since...”

Maybe if she tried hard enough, her awkwardness could compact her into a handful of atoms, and she could just disappear.

“Oh, of course, duh. Sure. Absolutely,” he bumbled.

Gwen grabbed the haphazard pile at the foot of the bed and practically sprinted to the bathroom where she tried to lose herself in the repetition of cleanliness. At least that was automatic.

Against her better judgment, she checked herself in the mirror. She looked every bit as undone as he had made her, and she hastily combed her fingers through her bed head so she didn’t scream “harlot” when she made her way back through the hallways. She rinsed her face and neck and swished some water to freshen her breath, and when she was done, she felt brave enough to face the music.

When Gwen returned to the bedroom, she found the man dressed as he had been, though all his clothes bore the same noticeable wrinkles and bagginess that hers did.

He smiled at her, and she swallowed roughly.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

It was agony. She just wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel him again. She wanted to hear him in the shell of her ear again.

“So, this was really fun,” she said lamely. “Thanks for the drinks and, you know, everything else.”

He laughed shyly.

This time, as she faced his open complexion and expressive eyes, she had no choice but to be sincere. “I had a really great time.”

“You did?”

She nodded. “I really didn’t expect to meet someone like you either, but I’m glad I did.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed before he unexpectedly bowed to her. “Thank you. I feel the same.”

Gwen burst out laughing, which helped ease the pang in her heart at having to pull away. “You’re cute.”

He shrugged a shoulder and laughed, too, though his was much more forced. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and the pair stood there in a stalemate. At last, he took a step back, and she took one forward.

“So…”

“So…” he echoed.

Gwen bit the inside of her cheek roughly in the desperate hope it would wake her up, and, thankfully, the flare of pain combatted the butterflies before they could overtake her. Tightly, she began, “I’m going to head out, I think.”

“Sure, yeah,” he said as he ushered her back into the living room to the door. “Yeah, you probably should. Are you good to walk back to your room? Wait, this is your hotel, right? Do I need to call you an Uber?”

“Yeah, I’m here. All good.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They exchanged another round of confused smiles before Gwen, fool that she was, lurched up onto her tip toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back, his smile slanted with an irresistible dopiness.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you back?”

“You probably shouldn’t.”

He nodded as though he understood, but Gwen wasn’t sure she did even though she’d been the one to say it.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

“Night,” he replied. “Take care.”

He opened his hotel door, and with a nod of her head first, Gwen turned and headed down the hall with the burning notion that he was watching her walk away.

She barely made it to the elevator before she had her phone in hand, intending to text Marie that she was headed back, but Gwen got sidetracked by the memory of what now lurked in her gallery.

She opened her camera roll only to be assaulted immediately by several snaps of his heart-shaped hair and buoyant cheeks framing his dazzling smile.

“He's cute. Is that your boyfriend?”

Gwen’s head shot up. She hadn’t even realized the elevator had stopped to acquire another passenger at some point. The bleached blonde girl smiled, her wild gold eyeliner glinting in the lowlight like some forest sprite sent there just to taunt her.

Gwen locked her phone and stuffed it in her leggings pocket with a shake of her head. “Uh. Oh, no, he’s just a friend.”

“Cute friend.”

“Yeah.”

The elevator dinged at the fourth floor and Gwen nodded to the other woman. “This is me. Have a good night.”

“You too!”

Back at her room, Gwen showered quickly, hoping it would be easier to distance herself from the forbidden word now buzzing in her brain like neon.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

She considered a shower, but that meant too much time to think just as much as it meant washing off the remnants of his cologne. She could do that in the morning once her heart had sobered up from its dopamine surge.

Gwen dressed for bed the same mechanical way she had back in Room 2281, and once she was safely into her pajamas, the familiarity brought the exhaustion in her muscles to the surface. She was only too happy to climb into bed after that, and tired as she was, she remembered to send her text to Marie.

Her finger hovered over the gallery icon again, but at the last second, she forced her phone off and let the night take hold of her.

Gwen woke to banging at her door. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and sat up slowly since her muscles ached from head to toe. She glanced at the thick drapes and caught the wan strip of light along the edges, but she had no clue what time it was until she grabbed her phone to find that it was just past noon. Even more surprisingly, she noted the slew of notifications.

Nine texts and four missed calls, all from Marie.

The banging continued, and Gwen groaned. “Give me a minute!”

At last, it quieted, and she shuffled like a geriatric over to the peephole. There, warped in the fish eye lens, was her roommate looking the perfect cross between annoyed and desperate. Gwen unlocked the door, and Marie rushed in.

“Finally,” the brunette said. “I was getting seriously worried.”

“I told you I made it back,” Gwen corrected.

“Yeah, but then you didn’t answer me at all, and I thought maybe you were passed out or something.”

The blonde squinted as she studied her friend now pacing the length of the hotel room. “Are you sure that’s it? Seems to me you’re the one who’s not okay.”

Marie shrugged a shoulder.  

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” her roommate said, still pacing. “Everything.”

Still exhausted, Gwen sat back on the bed and waited.

“Shit, it’s just— You know what, let's go to the pool. Maybe it will wash that guy out of my system.”

“That guy? The one from the party last night? Did you have a bad night?”

“No! Worse!” Marie wailed and flopped onto the bed. “He wasn't just scalding hot. He was likable! Ugh, I'm devastated. Catching feelings is your thing, girl, not mine. Damnit, I need a distraction. Tell me about your night. Please, don’t spare a single fucking detail.”

It was Gwen’s turn to shrug a shoulder. “I had fun.”

“So much fun you're not even going to tell your friend a single detail?” But then Marie's eyes narrowed, and her roommate’s skin bristled. “Or you had too much fun?”

“Hey, I slept in my own room last night, thank you.”

Marie whined. “Shit, I know. I must be projecting.”

“So what the hell happened with you last night?” Gwen said, only too happy to turn the attention away from her as she shuffled into the bathroom for her usual morning routine.

“I hardly know. We were dancing and drinking, no big deal, so I figured it was just going to be the usual fun, and it was fun, but, shit, he was just different, you know? He was like one of those lead guys from your movies, all gentlemanly and shit but more, too. Like he’s got secrets, but not the kind you want to run from, the kind you want to know. Oh my god, what am I even saying?”

Gwen smiled. “So, he was hot and charming? How is that different from the other guys you hook up with?”

“Gwennie, I didn’t even tell you about the sex. Shit, the way he moved his hips! There should be a law. And he was so diligent. He knew exactly what I wanted, and I didn't have to say a word, which was good because the only ones I could utter were swears. And I just couldn’t keep my hands off of him, you know? Fuck, not just his muscles, but his hair…” Marie laid there slack-jawed at the memory, her hands pressed over her belly.

“Sounds like you got the unforgettable night you were gunning for.”

“You don’t get it, babe. Even as he was giving me the dicking down of my life, this guy—he was, like, quietly sweet and funny? I don’t know how to explain it. He could just… smile, and it would make me laugh, like, even when he was inside, and somehow that was still super hot, you know?”

Gwen burst out laughing.

“See!” said Marie, gesturing at her roommate as she exploded up from the bed.

“I see,” the blonde teased with a lingering grin.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just, you know who you sound like?”

“You.”

“Me.”

Marie sighed. “Shit, I know. You know the worst part?”

“What?”

“This guy asked me to stay after.”

“Oh…”

“I mean, it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time I considered staying. Ain’t that some shit? But what would be the point, right?”

“Yeah…” Gwen said slowly as she thought of her thick-lipped lover. Marie’s unexpected dilemma had been just what Gwen needed to forget the ache in her core and the bigger ache in her chest, but now, it was a mirror reflecting things back far too vividly.

“Shit, huh?”

“Yeah. Shit.”

“You know the only thing to do, right?”

“Don't you dare,” Gwen warned.

But Marie was already up and moving to the door. “We’re going to the pool, and I'm going to find another hot guy because hot guys are a dime a dozen in Miami, right? I'm going to cleanse the palate.”

“Yeah, that's not how that works.”

“Look, I've never thought a guy was husband material before, let alone a one-night stand, so what do you suggest I do, Ms. Ephron?”

Gwen scowled. “Don't ask me. I've been getting it wrong so long that I'm not even sure I could trust myself to know when it was right.”

“Okay then. For lack of absolutely any other plan, this is what we’re doing. Put your swimsuit on, gorgeous. Let’s see how much Vitamin D we can get.”

Gwen sighed, but the truth was Marie’s distraction did help her forget the feeling of being surrounded by the stranger she couldn’t shake, so she slipped into her bikini, fought hard not to open her gallery yet again, and decided to dive headfirst into something new like her friend suggested if only to prove to herself once and for all that she’d idealized everything about last night.

Marie joined her in the hallway decked out in her cutest Miami-approved string bikini, already smelling of sunscreen and Flowerbomb. “Let’s do this.”

The pair chatted about their day and where they might go for their last night in town, all while studiously avoiding the topic of last night. They padded through the extravagant lobby along with a sea of other swimsuit-ed guests, their flip-flops smacking across the marble like theme music, until they emerged into the blistering Florida sun.

The pool looked very different in the daylight. There was no trace of the stage or the bars, and there was certainly no body shot table left out. It was just an ocean of sun-bleached concrete thrusting straight up to the white sands of Miami Beach, broken only by an enormous aquamarine pool, dozens of lavish cabanas, and a manmade forest of towering palms.

“Wait,” said Gwen as she scouted the bustling crowd stretching all the way out to the blue sea beyond, “you want the pool or—”

“Oh my god!” shouted Marie as she squealed to a stop and slipped behind Gwen. “It's him!”

“Who? The guy from last night? Where?”

“There, right at the edge of the pool. The one who’s shaped like a yield sign telling me slow down and give in to him again and again and again…”

“Marie!” she shouted and whirled around to face her friend.

“Oh my god, Gwennie, you have to hold me back or I am going to do irreparable damage here. Shit, shit, shit! I can’t believe I’m the one saying this. Fuck. He's looking right at me now, and he's waving with that stupid cute teddy bear smile, fuck. What do I do! What do I do!”

Gwen grabbed her friend’s shoulders and shook her until Marie looked at her. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to go over there, and I want to talk to him, and I want to hear his whole entire life story and what he wants in a woman, and then I want to take him back to my hotel room and be that woman.”

“Oh, girl,” Gwen laughed, “I never want to hear advice from you about this ever again.”

“That’s fine, just please come with me. I don’t want to talk to him alone.”

“Who are you, and what did you do with Marie?”

The brunette grimaced as she squeezed Gwen’s hands. “I don’t know! Help me!”

“Okay, now, I need to see the guy who broke my friend.”

Gwen turned from Marie toward the pool in time to catch the man who’d unmade her roommate over the course of one night. He was every bit as hot as Marie had described, with a chiseled jaw and even more chiseled abs, and he was indeed shaped like a triangle, which could be appreciated even easier since he was only in swim trunks. His skin had been worshipped by the sun, and he was sparkling thanks to a fresh dip in the pool. He lowered his muscular arm to sweep his fingers back through his sopping wet hair, and somewhere beside her, her friend whimpered.

But the blonde could only spend a fraction of a second on everything else around her because beside Marie’s hunk now was the very man who had unmade Gwen last night.

Time stopped.

He, too, was fresh out of the pool, with a towel ringing his neck and shoulders as swollen droplets rained down from thick, haphazard locks. He was out of breath, his chest heaving from his swim and his pale lips hanging open as he gulped air, just as they had when he’d fucked her to the brink of insanity.

But his eyes were as steady as ever, and they were fixed firmly on Gwen.

“Should we go over?” asked Marie, but her friend couldn’t move.

Instead, the two men began to walk the long perimeter before the bronzed man cut out the inconvenience and hopped back in the pool to wade across. Gwen was pretty sure she’d never again see anything more life-altering than these two shirtless heartthrobs pressing determinedly through the water with the ripples surging around their matching narrow waists.

The pair climbed out in horrible, horrible unison, their wet thighs flexing in time with their arms as water rushed off in diamond falls, and it was all terribly loud in Gwen’s ears. It only amplified when her stranger smiled in his darling tight-lipped way.

They padded across the concrete to the little swath of grass under a palm where the two ladies had been paralyzed.

“Hi, hello,” said the deep-voiced bronzed man. “It’s nice to see you again, Marie.”

“Hey, Hyunwoo,” she replied. Maybe it would sound casual to the strangers, but Gwen didn’t miss the uncharacteristic tremble in her friend’s voice.

“Good day for a swim,” he observed as he glanced up at the sun through the palm fronds and rubbed the back of his neck. “You planning on the pool or the ocean?”

“We hadn’t decided.”

“Ah, is this your friend you told me about?”

Marie nodded and took the chance to cling to her roommate’s hand, and with that, gained some strength. “Oh, yeah, this is Gwen. Gwen, this is Hyunwoo.”

Gwen felt the sharp squeeze at her hand, which was the only thing that made her realize she’d been staring unceasingly at her own pretty boy. She whipped her attention to Hyunwoo to smile and wave, but she could feel the burn of the other man’s eyes until she felt more naked than she had in his bed. She didn’t dare look back.

“Nice to meet you,” Hyunwoo said with that teddy bear smile, as Marie had called it. He turned toward his shirtless friend and added, “This is—”

“Hey!” came an exuberant call from across the pool in one of the loudest voices Gwen had ever heard. There stood yet another handsome man with hair dyed honey blond and chipper eyes waving at them with both arms like a used car lot inflatable. “Hey! Ask them if they want to join us.”

“Minhyuk,” scoffed the remaining stranger with a roll of his eyes, but Hyunwoo shrugged his mouth.

“What do you say, ladies? We have a cabana over there. Lunch is on its way, and we ordered lots.”

Marie giggled nervously and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I remember how much you said you like eating. I mean, if it’s cool with everybody…”

The brunette looked desperately at Gwen and squeezed her hand tighter than ever, and all eyes looked to the blonde.

“Sure, that’s cool,” said Gwen though she was anything but.

She was burning under the sun though it was nothing to the way she burned under the magnifying glass of cruel fate. Here, before the gentle gaze of the man she had forced herself to walk away from, everything came into calamitous focus.

His laugh, his easiness, his openness, his beauty. Their chemistry, their connection, their compatibility, their flaws.

Maybe Gwen had been a fool in love an embarrassing number of times, but she realized now that maybe all those mistakes had served a purpose. She could see clearly for the first time what all those men had lacked, and she’d be a much bigger fool to turn back a second time from something that felt undeniably different.

“You coming?” Marie called, and only then did Gwen realize Hyunwoo and her friend were already on their way to the cabana.

Beside her, her shot glass waited, smiling as he always seemed to be in her presence with that delicious bellybutton still glistening though this time it was from lingering pool water.

“Didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to ever see you again,” he said.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?” Gwen laughed awkwardly as she took the lead and followed her friend.

With his long legs, he caught up in a single stride, and together, they walked the long perimeter of the pool without any complaint.

“Bad at what?” he asked.

“Keeping promises to our friends.”

“Nah. Maybe it was just a dumb promise to make in the first place. And anyway,” he said, looking at her keenly over a bare shoulder, “aren’t you the one who told me no itineraries?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a red-cheeked chuckle.

I go where my heart leads…

“I take it Hyunwoo’s a part of the bachelor party?” Gwen said.

“Yup. There’s eight of us, including the groom and his brother. You’ll like them, just hopefully not as much as you like me.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And who says I like you?”

“I do. At least, I hope you do. Or maybe I’m just trying to manifest it.”

Gwen smiled shyly and nodded. “You’re right. I do.”

“Kind of funny how this worked out, huh? Your friend and my friend meeting up. Kind of feels like…”

“Blind dumb luck?”

“Destiny.” He studied her for a moment and then returned his eyes to the path around the pool. “I was going to say destiny.”

Her heart was beating out of her chest again, but this time, there was no scolding voice inside her head to temper it.

“You’re still cute,” she blurted.

“And you’re still driving me crazy.” His eyes roved over her skimpily clad figure, and he pressed his lips together. “So… Gwen, huh? That’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”

She was not prepared for the way it would feel to hear her name from his exquisite lips.

The front of her flip-flop rolled, and she stumbled forward with a cry and a flail before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he assured. He stared down at her fondly as she sheltered in the shade of his wide shoulders. Slowly, a smirk crept onto his lips. “Last time, you said it was the heels and you were a sandals girl. What’s your excuse today?”

“I’m clumsy, okay.”

“For everyone or just for me?” he teased. He leaned down, his lips to her hair, and added, “It’s okay if you say just for me. I’m kind of hoping for it.”

Gwen looked up into those brown eyes. The night had brought out their smoky depths, but the day brought out their playful hickory dimensions. So, too, had the merciless sun illuminated the finest spray of freckles dappling his cheek to puffy cheek, to devastating consequence.

“Maybe I’d admit it if I even knew who you were,” she said.

He stopped, and she stopped, too. Gwen looked at him with nervous eyes and an even more skittish heart.

She could forgive herself for all her stupid mistakes if it meant she could just get it right this one time…

Please. Just this once…

He lifted his head, caught her gaze, and closed the gap between them with one big step.

“In that case…”

Slowly, he bent down as his large hands gripped her cheeks, and just as his lips grazed hers gentler than the sea breeze, he spoke.

“So nice to finally meet you, Gwen. I’m Hyungwon.”

A/N: I know, I know. The muse obviously tried to turn this into a whole rom-com novel, but instead, I remained resolute to close this on the whimsical romantic open ending I originally intended. It got too out-of-hand as it was, if you couldn’t tell lol, so let your own romantic hearts take it from here, loves. <3 Thanks for reading!

[nhi-theuserof-this]

Noir hcs!! (+punknoir!)

These are based on BS and nobody can stop me because I’m the author >:)

Ok so this list also doubles as self promotion but we aren’t talking about that right now ✌️

Also content warnings! I’m keeping it light but like general warning for noir having poor mental health, nothing terrible or explicit brought up and hcs end on a light note

-he’s recruited to the spider society specifically due to basically his entire life getting shaken around like those little glitter water jars

-the events of itsv changing his mentality ->therefore changing how certain events were supposed to go

-he near exclusively shows up to use their infirmary

-he doesn’t get sent on missions due to not having a no-killing rule

-he primarily starts going by ben at first(not only as a differentiator for author) because he’s quite detached from his own identity as a person and needed a fresh slate so to speak

-now he just likes going by ben since hobie is the one that started it

-he goes to therapy with spider therapist. The bill goes straight to miguel

-he’s aroace, he has no fucking clue what the terminology actually is, just knows he’s got no romantic intention when kissing and holding hands

-punknoir. Need I say more?

(yes I need to say more.)

-he and hobie getting together is simultaneously a gradual thing and also just absolutely random. They get closer as time passes but there’s absolutely no beating around the bush when it comes to saying their feelings to each other

-he starts growing a pot of flowers shortly after they get together and is going to gift them to hobie when they start to bloom so they can plant them in his(hobies) universe

-hex codes. Something about them

-there’s a group in the spider society that write a newsletter about what he gets up to because people were interested and a little worried about him when he joined

-he does not know there’s a newsletter about him. There’s probably a subplot about that going on its merry way right about now

-he’s trans he’s so trans literally the most trans of trans look at him and his misery and tell me he isn’t trans

-on that topic he does not like his face

-he also loves hearing his own voice, he’s not gonna go out of his way to talk all the time but he’s really proud of the general control he has to get it that way. I’d be proud too actually

-continuing, he just passes so well when I think about it. Deep ass voice, pretty tall, and whatever his build may look like, he’s got a fire ass fit with that coat and hat and stuff

-speaking of the hat, he’s quite fond of it and has had it for a while, he likes to personify it for bits and quips sometimes

The post is getting a bit long so I think I’ll make another part at some point, if you enjoyed any of these I greatly recommend reading my series!! [Link] I put my heart into it and I want you all to love it too! Things are getting a bit busy but I’m working on another main work as well as outsiders pov with more of the newsteam

Take care all! <3

[toomanywatchers]

alright! knew soemone took out the corkboard for this one. I totally agree though with all the stuff about the rebranding. I would suggest they are trying to rebrand themselves and make themselves better because on WW+ they do talk about how watcher wasn't exactly how they thought it would be and the pandemic really was rough for their company. And I would agree with the streamings service bc it is literally called www.watchertv.com but it is true that they are a suggested smaller company and have a relatively smaller audiance then their buzzfeed days. One thing on their part I wish they would have done differently when watcher first started was promoting watcher more on buzzfeed. They did a few times and at the very end but no one reads the discription and or the last little bits of the crdits. if they did promote it more, then maybe more of the audiance from unsolved would have come over to their company and have given them a bigger start. but with that comes its own problems of not having enough content or better content yada yada yada. One thing I did think of when I say the announcement was maybe it was a slouth of new shows were already ready to watch like a series. I quickly shot that down. Bc when would they have time to shoot 2-3+ shows? Between editing and keeping their current shows alive I doubt they had time (this is all speculation I have no fucking clue). Anyway I do think it might be stuff like maybe a new show announcements like maybe one with Sara and Joyce. As well as the somewhat annocued one with Steven and his crew. aybe a new tour and merch? Merch store has been pretty dry (minus the new patches) and we haven't had a tour since november which isn't long but idk what they do in HQ. Truly excited tho. I have my alarms set and everything. Anyway lol that's for reading my ramble too. Your theories were great, didn't mean to kind of debunk them though.

I believe you and I are on same the page and here are some of my responses to this.

With the whole BuzzFeed promoting: I don't think they had much of a say on what and how much they could promote Watcher over on BuzzFeed. If I remember correctly, BuzzFeed is very stingy on their employees/shows promoting other outside sources that could be seen as competition. Henceforth many BuzzFeed employees on contract could not appear in other YouTubers videos do to conflict of interest. In the end, it was really generous for the amount of promoting allowed of Shane and Ryan to put into the last seasons of BuzzFeed Unsolved.

The possibility of new shows: Yes, filming a lot of shows to add in this new slate would seem like a lot, but not in possible. It would seem more likely than touring as touring takes the boys away from the office and takes up a considerable amount of time and obstacles for filming schedules. Also I said how there are new names showing up in the credits of new editors and production crew, meaning they are hiring on new folks. Bigger team, more flexibility to work on new projects. Also if these new shows are less of Shane and Ryan, and more of other individuals like Steven and friends of the company it would actually mean a more balance flow of shooting. Letting Shane and Ryan have a break from constantly filming and to work on other projects within their own lives or through the company. Actually, Ronnie who was an intern for Watcher back in 2021 or 2022 I believe posted this on their instagram story:

They actually left the company sometime in 2022 possibly after the internship was up. Then when to work for GMM though that internship has come to close. Basically what I am saying is they are continue to grow their employment and with more people on the team means more flexibly in expansion of shows.

Merch???: I feel like merch could be a possible in this announcement if it's a relaunch of sorts. Especially if it's like a rebrand, selling merch to fit the new rebrand? Perfect idea to generate some revenue as for long time fans it would be a refreshing site to their merch line... and who doesn't love fresh new merch?

Don't worry guy I am also so excited! I noticed I actually don't work on Friday so I can be fully present for the announcement day! Imma be on the internet as a menace all day watch me.

[justaredheadf1fan]

Back for the 2023 season ✨

Hello there!

Well, it's been a minute 🤣 My intention was to write something through the winter break about several topics I initially had in mind, but as you can see between my vacation and a very needed break from all this and a few other things, I haven't found the motivation to write anything until now, and I'm very damn late.

Firstly, I'll say that I honestly have no clue what the hell the idea will be for this page during this season. I don't know how much I'll be posting per weekend, or anything at all for that matter because my brain's not collaborating at the moment so I guess I'll figure it out by next week (I hope so at least). I don't even know if I'll be keeping the masterlist posts the way they are now and keep adding the new ones or if I'll renew the masterlist (which might be the better option). I don't even know if I'll be keeping all the previous posts at all, but anyway, if any of you care enough to share any ideas, I'm open to suggestions.

It's finally pre-season testing for the 2023 season after all the car launches in the past few weeks, which will be my topic on this post (step by step) along with a few comments about some of the winter break news that I can remember.

So first things first, I believe we all were expecting Fred Vasseur to become the Ferrari Team Principal for this season, which meant Mattia Binotto's banishment. FINALLY. Was I happy to have this man out of Ferrari after last year's debacle. I like Vasseur, although I honestly just wanted Binotto out, regardless.

James Vowles' move to Williams as Team Principal was unexpected but I trully felt happy for him, well deserved promotion, if you ask me. Not that I care much for Williams anyway, but it's good news anyway. I did hope Susie Wolff would get the position tbh. I would've been THE reason to look forward to Williams having nice things this year, but anyhow.

Now, the news I was waiting for most than any other. Mick Schumacher as the 3rd driver for Mercedes. Like this team can't be any more beautiful than it already is now. I felt so happy for Mick. Yes, he's out of the grid this season, but this is not the end. I know it. This is a fantastic chance in every way for him firstly because he's gonna get treated like family and with the respect he deserves, and because he's gonna learn so much in such an amazing environment with all the incredible people at Mercedes. I'm a fangirl, I know, but seriously, this setback couldn't have worked out better. Sexiest team on the grid, YES I'M SAYING IT.

Okay, now onto the topic that should've been on my page by last week 🤣 I was pretty excited about some of the car launches this year, and to my surprises I liked quite a few cars' liveries. This year some teams have stepped up on the livery designs, so there' s a few sexy car rolling around.

I loved 4 cars especially, because some were just a copy of their 2022 counterparts and meh. RedBull and McLaren for instance... Nothing new. Nothing to add. But the 1st of the ones I liked the most was Alfa Romeo. Whoa. That change from the white to the black. The combination with the red. Chef's kiss. Really cool stuff.

The Aston Martin is one of those cars maintaining last year's livery design (or at least that's what my mind is remembering/thinking at the moment), BUT. The AM is a sexy fucking car, let me tell you. That green is stunning year after year. No need to change it, I love it.

The we got Ferrari. First of, that launch was fantastic from the Tifosi right there to the test on track with Carlos and Charles talking to each other on the radio. And that car. Oh my. That car was the Valentine's gift to us all, in all of it's glory. I was so happy honestly. Plus, Carlos and Charles' interaction on the radio was truly the best part, they're such idiots. I love them.

Finally, the day I was waiting for, the Mercedes launch. We all know how much expectation was weighing in on this. I think I speak for all of us when I say we NEEDED that car to have a black livery. I mean, the W13 was an ugly thing, honestly. I hate to say it, but it was. Its power was lost along with the black livery from 2021. And Mercedes after hinting endlessly for days, delivered. The W14 is a thing of beauty. It just needs to give us our hope back. We need it to be the W11 2.0.

After fangirling a little too much as always, and after being trying to write this thing for hours now (almost 2am and I'm still not done lol), it's finally come the time for testing those beasts and see what they're made of this year. I'll try to watch everything until they're done before giving my opinion on it, see the possibilities of the season.

It's good to be back, honestly.

[salt-volk]

i've never had much energy for typing paragraphs, ngl, so i'ma try to keep this short and not accidentally say something stupid. first of all, i appreciate your sincerity... buuut your condescension could use some work. for you to assume me ignorant, which is itself out of ignorance, is pretty hypocritical of you, especially while you are condemning the same ignorance in your post. "marginalized people" as if i don't know? you don't know my life, homie, you have no clue what kind of 'oppression' and 'marginalization' i've experienced.

you're not gonna agree with me on this i'm sure, but throwing around the term 'dogwhistle' on the internet is the dumbest shit. to ASSUME someone is a crackhead extremist without any REAL evidence is MESSED UP. you wanna ostracize and condemn someone for making a pop-culture reference when you yourself didn't originally know what people were upset about either? bruh. that type of shit can fuck someone up. why not... i don't know, ASK if you're curious???

it is important to deal with bad people i.e. murderers, ACTUAL REAL pedos, abusers, etc. that's the point of a justice system, but the jumping to conclusions like this is insane. not cool. it's like the 'that escalated quickly' meme, except you're fucking with peoples' self worth and in some cases their livelihood.

i didn't accuse anyone of anything, i'm making an observation. it was poorly worded, but man. i am. tired. are you SERIOUSLY telling me that someone going behind my back and starting shit about me is a victim? dude. what. the fact that you can even entertain that thought is insane to me.

been here before, this is online bullying. i don't care how you justify it, it is what it is AND i know i'm not the only one. that's why i messaged you, not to "defend myself". right now, i'm messaging you kinda hoping you might take your own advice and LISTEN. society as a whole uses cancel culture as a crutch and it's fucked up. you gotta stop. you ARE NOT PROTECTING ANYONE. you are hurting people.

-which leads into your next point. yeah, you guys are attacking me. i say "you guys" because YOU did participate. i can feel the judgement from AAAALL THE WAY over here. and... then you go and ASSUME i must have 'responded' to something in some way that warranted this? i grew up in abuse, this is too fucking familiar. don't do this shit. what you are promoting is not self awareness, it is mob mentality and bullying.

i like the matrix. what the fuck. i never imagined anyone would notice the little note i left for myself on my page, nevermind the drama. it's disgusting and pathetic, do you guys not have hobbies? we could've had a moment of appreciating a cool movie, but instead it turned into a mini online struggle session. tl;dr you gang up on someone, accuse them of some crazy shit, and then avoid responsibility by framing yourselves as victims in your own minds. you assume that anyone who doesn't conform to your standards of behavior is not worth kindness. this is not what 'community' is supposed to be like. i'm not "open to learning" about the sick ways that people justify this behavior and i do not care who i ideologically offended. please, grow a spine or better yet some real empathy.

nvm keeping it short, i guess i failed. oh well. i'm not prepared for anyone to WANT to have a reasonable conversation. i'd be delighted for you to prove me wrong. there's a character limit on asks, so i'm putting this in submissions. feel free to msg me on dv where i am contractually obligated to not curse

i didn't see that there were so many replies to the first thing i sent. i wish all of you could understand the gravity of what you're doing. to the mod, i hope you are doing ok despite all the drama and sudden political bullshit. what you wrote me was difficult to read and i stand by the submission i sent, but i really wish you the best. i liked the chicken ask, that was funny.

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

hihi slug!! what are your thoughts on the shuffle drama track now that its out? i had a lot of fun listening to it and liked most of the dynamics a lot ^^

I haven't listened to it yet, but I have some free time tonight, so I guess it's time for a Live Slug Reaction. (Under a cut for length)

You can follow along with a detailed summary here. I'll put time stamps to show where I'm at too.

(1:03) Wait, so - this is considered canon, right? And it's taking place after the second DRB? I'm guessing Freestyle Gladiator is some sort of promotional program Chuuouku is at least partially involved with, and that's all fine and dandy, but has the rest of the plot just stood still while this has happened? Like... is Ramuda not still deathly ill? Is Jakurai still supposed to be working for Chuuouku even though Honobono reneged on Jakurai's terms? Are the Buster Bros still at odds with Rei? What's going on with the whole Juuto's job thing? I guess this is probably supposed to be a funny bit so the plot doesn't apply, but I have a few questions about the logistics of it.

(1:07) I already laughed about this when the preview came out, but it's STILL hilarious to me that the first thing Ramuda ever says to Sasara that's not related to the brainwashing is, "lol your jokes suck ass"

(2:07) Here come the baddies of the day. I can feel it.

(2:24) Wait, is this Juushi? Huh, I don't think I've heard his speaking voice much before. I almost didn't recognize him except for his speech style.

(2:27) Me: Is this Juushi? Ichirou literally a second later: Quit crying, Aimono

(2:33) LMAO Juushi says Ichirou sounds like Kuukou... that's cute.

(2:38) Ichirou's laugh is making me having affectionate feelings. Disgusting. At any rate, it's good to hear him sound happy about Kuukou and not just sad anymore! Hell yeah! I missed the IchiKuu interactions in a major way. Hope we get more of them in present day canon.

(2:52) In my predictions for this track, I said something to the effect of this being the good boy team who go around doing community service. Well, apparently they're helping Ichirou work a takoyaki stand. So there's a bit more capitalism than I expected, but yeah, this is really a good boy team thing to do.

(3:22) I love how Juushi's voice actor makes those very emotional wails. He's really talented. Also, what a working in retail/restaurant/customer service mood.

(3:59) Juushi's VA going OFF (also another customer service mood)

(4:14) lol did Roshou just... burn the takoyaki because he likes it better that way? Okay, I do have to say, maybe this is what Ichirou gets for assuming Roshou knew how to cook takoyaki just because he's Osakan. Regional profiling much, Ichirou?

(4:40) I feel like I'm listening to a Dice mukbang. I wonder how these kinds of scenes are recorded. Do the voice actors really just go "HAMP OMP HARF SHLARF" into the mic and call it a day?

(5:03) Juushi: Black takoyaki? I bet we can make a cooler name for it somehow. .... Okay, but the conventional definition of cooler or Juushi's definition of cooler?

(5:08) Yup. Definitely Juushi's definition of cooler.

(5:11) Roshou: Bla- infe- wha- huh? Me too, Roshou.

(5:22) Thank you, Kimusuba, for your enunciation, because I had no clue what Juushi said until you repeated it. Roshou is probably thanking you too.

(6:01) It's hella cute to me that Roshou makes an effort to play along with Juushi, even though he clearly thinks this is some BS. He probably does the same for his students.

(6:18) Oh are you fucking kidding me - Doppo got mugged AGAIN? This poor man. Why do these things keep happening to him?

(6:23) Rei: Well... I mean, he just looks like a sucker. LMFAO

(6:44) Took me a minute to understand what Samatoki's saying. I don't think his voice agrees with me all that well. I do have to say, this is very funny (re: "You're a part of my crew now, and anyone who fucks w/ you fucks w/ me") not in the sense of Samatoki's protective streak - love that - but in the sense of Samatoki being so willing to throw hands. Can we set him on Doppo's employers while we're at it?

(6:50) Come to think of it, I think Doppo is genuinely the only person who ever calls Samatoki "Aohitsugi-san" despite all of Samatoki's demands for respect.

(7:19) Rei sending Doppo out to buy him a tea is such a dad thing. This feels like an episode of Old Enough, the show about sending toddlers to run their first errand.

(7:55) AGAIN?

(8:19) The way Rei goes, "I'm just an ordinary, sake-loving middle-aged man" is so fucking funny. He's not even trying to sound believable.

(9:01) Fuck 'im up, Doppo! FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!

(9:53) The way Samatoki offers to pay for everything is heart-warming. The older brother instinct. The issue is that certain people (Sasara and later Ramuda) have been known to take advantage of this, and judging by how excited Rei sounds, Rei's about to join them on the list.

(10:05) Oh fuck me, I wasn't ready for Riou's voice to come immediately after Ramuda's high-pitched humming. I also momentarily parsed his line of "A flea market..." as "The free market..." and was instantaneously transported into a world where Riou is an off-the-grid, libertarian crypto bro.

(10:15) RIOU-CCHI

(10:19) Oh, he's the grandma who goes with the grandkids to the flea market to sell her homemade wares... Here's a 1000 yen bill, Ramuda-kun and Hifumi-kun, now go buy yourselves candy and be good boys while Riou-baachan sells his home cooking. Has anyone ever given Riou knitting needles before? I think Riou would love knitting needles. This man is one rocking chair away from being 85 years old, and I love him for it.

(10:38) Horribly, horribly pleased that Ramuda and Hifumi are impressed and interested as opposed to my worst fears of "Eww, you're a gross, sweaty dude who lives in the woods!" My crops are watered. My will to live is restored.

(11:16) He just has a bag of perfectly-sized clothes with him (??)

(11:24) A suit made of manga panels................ okay, but is it good manga? Or did Ramuda give him the """""classy""""" version of an ahegao sweater? Hey, would it be fucked up or what if it was the Hypmic manga on the suit? Hifumi comes back to Matenrou being like, "Damn, Jakurai! What'd you keep making that face at Ramuda for?" and Jakurai goes ???

(11:28) PINK CAMO

(11:30) Ramuda: That's what fashion's all about! IS IT?!!! Man, I don't know SHIT about fashion.

(11:41) Riou ended up saying the same thing I just did (albeit more politely) so this is a sign that I, too, could be tricked into wearing something garish if Ramuda presented it to me. Also, what was that changing sound? Did they just have a magical girl transformation? Sailor Riou! In the name of survival, I'll punish you!

(12:00) I love that Riou doesn't like it (well, he's complaining about it, rather), but he still wears it anyway. He's known Ramuda for two minutes and is already like, "I must treat him with ultimate respect and care." This is why Riou is the best. Perfect. Everything I could have ever wanted is in this drama track.

(12:39) Riou.................................................... (That sales pitch would work on me, tbh.)

(13:52) Riou.................................... It's no surprise that Ramuda dislikes this, come to think of it, given that he hates smelly nattou. (I call this good taste. I detest nattou haha.)

(13:58) Hifumi sounds like a chain smoker here. His voice actor is killing it.

(14:25) Hitoya "I detest bullying" Amaguni bullying a middle schooler. Classic. I also enjoy Saburou being like, "Well, if SOME people here would actually TALK to one another, we wouldn't have to do this!" Welcome to Saburou Yamada's relationship counseling, where the 14-year-old is more emotionally mature than the 35-year-olds. Maybe he inherited this skill from Rei.

(15:01) LMFAO SABUROU STRAIGHT SAVAGE "You seem pretty stuffy, so I bet you never had any friends in middle school."

(15:18) It's a bit past when he said it, but I'm still thinking about Jakurai going "I had many friends." Considering how differently he viewed his relationship with Hitoya as compared to how Hitoya viewed it, I wonder if those other people he's talking about likewise saw him as a friend... Jakurai... :(

(15:56) Saburou: Aren't you an adult?! (implying that he should act like one) Good for this kid, he is DRAGGING them. I knew he'd somehow be the winner of this unlikely match-up.

(16:22) LMAOO. Okay, this is funny as hell, but theory time. Hitoya's older brother (Sora)'s name means "heaven", as does the Amaguni last name. Hitoya's name, meanwhile, means "prison" on its own but is also used in the word "hell" so much that for me, at least, the first thought upon seeing it is hell. I've always wondered if he might have resented that naming scheme, and I wonder if choosing the name Heaven here is intentional. Perhaps he's copying Sora? Or perhaps he's naming himself Heaven Heaven, the Hypmic version of Moon Moon.

(16:43) LMAO of course Saburou likes it. Know your audience, Hitoya.

(17:13) The way Saburou swears is so funny to me. He sounds like he's trying to act more adult than he is around these older guys he's probably trying to impress, at least a little.

(17:44) Yup, he's definitely trying to impress them. What do adults like? Alcohol! Whisky bonbons it is! Actually, out of curiosity - is bonbon a false cognate? I have a feeling it might be... Yeah, it looks like the Japanese definition might be a bit broader than the English definition. (I may also not know exactly what a bon bon might be. That's one of the things about translation - you realize how ignorant you actually are constantly when you figure out you can't precisely define or explain certain everyday objects maybe out of your sphere of expertise.)

(17:50) Too late, Hitoya.

(18:11) LMAO the way it cut out so quickly

(18:28) Sasara: And today's interesting guest - Yeah, Gentarou's interesting all right.

(18:41) This Jirou impression is really good. I didn't realize it was Gentarou's VA for a moment.

(19:02) Wait, it just hit me - so does Gentarou dead-ass act like this in public? Like when he goes to talk about his books to the press, is he his usual unhinged self, or does he at least pretend to have a sense of decorum? His editors must be scared to let him go anywhere. Working as his PR agent could earn you millions.

(19:54) I just realized what Sasara reminds me of. A Youtuber. He acts like a Youtuber. He's literally trying to film a reaction video. Teens (and Best-Selling Authors) React to Croquette Sandwiches!

(20:04) While the boys continue their "HAMP AMP MURMP" fest, I'll take the time to mention something I forgot earlier. I wish we'd gotten Guy Fieri to eat Roshou's takoyaki. "But Guy Fieri isn't in Hypmic" Well, not with that kind of attitude.

(21:02) Oh, he's his own PR agent. Everything makes sense now. He probably runs his Twitter like Kojima (ft. Dice as Mads Mikkelsen).

(21:18) Rip Sasara's Yotube vid

(22:19) Juuto: Is this ramen? It's pure black. Wait, did Roshou make it?

(22:24) hey does anyone here know Japanese. because I guess you could say now Kuukou's a 食うkou. *booed offstage*

(22:28) The way Dice eats is............. effervescent.............

(23:02) Dice sounds so offended. "You don't mess with food, man!"

(23:44) It's a good thing Juuto's a competitive bitch, or else this would never have happened.

(23:49) YES, SHAKKU IS HERE!! Ft. 5 second long "KUUUKOUUUUUUUUUUU!!!"

(24:07) KUUKOU LOCKED HIM IN THE SHED??!!

(24:18) God, I aspire to be like Kuukou. If only we could all do this to our parents.

(24:37) Somehow, I don't think telling Dice and Juuto that Shakku is more of a fierce beast than a human being is going to help convince them to go toe-to-toe with him.

(24:48) Honestly, I understand how Kuukou turned out this way when considering Shakku.

(25:09) I have to say, I'm not super fond of the Kuukou/Dice/Juuto line-up if only because Kuukou's kind of overpowering the other two. It's not that I think Kuukou should be less extra. I love every part of the Kuukouness here. It's more that I wish we'd gotten more of Dice and Juuto's particular nonsenses as opposed to having them be the sensible-seeming tsukkomis. FP is def. a lot more balanced, because one character is always playing straight man to the other two bozos, but who the bozos are is constantly rotating. Likewise, MTC is more balanced because every single one of them is, at all times, thinking, "Let me, the mature and reasonable adult, humor these children I'm with." But here there's not enough trade-off. I guess BAT works well because Juushi and Hitoya are so bombastic on their own that they basically shove Kuukou out of the way for screen-time, but here he's kind of hogging it. And that's a bit of a shame.

(25:40) Love how excited Juushi is for taking a selfie.

(25:52) LMAO I wonder what social media Juushi has. He seems like a Pinterest mood boards kind of dude. I bet the word aesthetic is a part of his voca- well, I guess it is now, because I distinctly remember writing him with that word, for whatever that's worth.

(26:12) Ichirou: Are you ready to fight your own teammates? Roshou, remembering the time Sasara ate his pudding: Of COURSE.

(26:36) For a very weird moment, I thought Doppo was the one smoking (I think it's Samatoki and Rei) and so I thought the other two had indoctrinated him. Doppo comes back to Matenrou reeking of nicotine, and Hifumi won't let him into the house. Jakurai immediately tries to force him to join a quitting smoking program at his clinic.

(27:15) I love how Rei and Samatoki say p. much the same thing as Jakurai does before every battle, but their deliveries could not be more different.

(27:17) Doppo: I'll despair with CONFIDENCE. <- felt that

(27:36) *whacking Ramuda with a rolled up newspaper* No talking with your mouth full.

(28:12) I appreciate how seriously Riou takes this. That's one of the biggest things I like about Riou. For all of his pride in being a soldier, he understands the weight of conflict and doesn't seek it out lightly.

(28:42) *head in hands* RiOUUUUUUU IS THE BEST. He never once belittles anyone for their interests and always, always, ALWAYS considers things with weight if anyone else cares about them. He’s! Such! A! Good! Person! FUCK!

(29:00) LMAO Saburou sounds so young...

(29:37) There goes straight savage Saburou again. God bless this kid.

(30:09) This is Hitoya speak for, “God, I’d love to have an excuse to kick Kuukou’s ass.”

(30:37) The way his suit keeps flapping around him as he exercises is really something else.

(30:52) I wonder if Sasara used to do this back when he worked with Roshou too. Group exercises, maybe? Except Roshou was kind of jacked back then (or he looked like it, at any rate), so maybe the exercises were simply Roshou benchpressing Sasara.

(31:00) Gentarou must be bored. He’s finding a way to entertain himself.

(31:23) I think Gentarou’s spent so long around Fling Posse that he’s forgotten how to behave in polite society, or rather that most people won’t humor him by falling for his tricks. (Do I think Dice truly believes Gentarou most of the time? Not really. Does it amuse Gentarou? Yeah, so that’s why Dice does it. He does the same thing for Ramuda, and Ramuda likewise plays up falling for Gentarou’s tricks, so I think it’s safe to assume that Dice isn’t as much of a dweeb around Gen as he pretends to be.) Dice and Ramuda aren’t noticing this as much on their end because Dice isn’t really in a good environment for letting out some of his particular goofiness, and Ramuda accidentally ended up with another two enablers. Hahaha. Gentarou might be homesick for them.

(31:40) Ah.... only Dice could eat with such.... passion.......

(31:45) I have to say, it’s a lot easier to understand Dice with food in his mouth than Ramuda. Kudos to Nozuyama. (?)

I’m actually going to stop here (at the part where the alarm goes off) because I’ve been doing this for several hours, and I want to sleep, but I hope that this has been entertaining for anyone brave enough to read the whole thing. 

Final takeaway: Hell yeah, Riou time.

[finelinevogue]

Can you write something about when Harry and Y/N broke up but fans speculate that they got back together and they did get back together. They broke over something stupid, please. You don’t have to do this exactly it can be something like that.

let’s see how this turns out! hope it’s what you wished for?!

The last few months had been rough.

What had started as rumours of a breakup between everyones favourite couple, you and Harry, had turned into an actual breakup.

It had started by Harry spending more time with Olivia, due to press for Don’t Worry Darling. They were always hanging out with each other, even when there was no publicity stunt telling them to. You found it appropriate at first, wanting the movie to gain some form of reputation, but after a while you believed it turned South. It was becoming a definite friendship and not just because they had to. It was the way that Harry would bring Olivia over for dinner without checking with you first, or taking the dog for a walk with her not you, or even staying longer out on stunts than they needed to just because they wanted to.

So you challenged Harry on it. Hell, even the tabloids were challenging you both - claiming Harry had split from you for Olivia. You made him question whether he thought his actions were irresponsible and appropriate or not, to which he thought there was nothing wrong and thought you were being irrational. You didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day, only to find him later on the phone speaking to Olivia about how crazy you’d been acting about it all. So you showed him crazy and walked out.

Until today.

For over a half a year your sister had her wedding planned and Harry was supposed to be your guest. You were nervous about turning up without him, because your family were very judgy. Your sister couldnt help being the smarter and the prettier one, but she also didn’t have to parade it around so everyone knew of it. Your mum and dad thought you a disappointment for the longest time, but once you’d gotten a job and had moved out they were a bit more loving over you. Still didn’t hide the fact they desperately hoped for you to have a relationship. It wasn’t that you were bringing Harry along to prove that someone loved you, but more to prove that they would never fully be satisfied whether you had a boyfriend or not. There would always be a podium stand slightly lower for you to stand on.

However, they didn’t know about the breakup.

“Y/N, nice to see you. Where’s Harry?” Another guest asked you, relatives of your mum. It was the same question over and over again, no one really caring about how you are but instead whether you’re in a positive relationship.

“Oh um I think he’s just running a bit late.” Was your chosen answer to respond to said question. It was repetitive, but it kept people off your back.

The wedding was completely beautiful. It was in a beautiful church and was decorated to perfection. The theme was white and royal blue, something your sister had always dreamed of. Children played amongst the pews and family relatives mumbled to each other about gossip. There was still a heavy sadness to the event. Maybe it was because your sister hadn’t asked you to be a bridesmaid - instead, choosing her best friends instead - or maybe it was because you missed Harry so much.

He’d fucked up. He really had, but it didn’t take away that burning passion for him that spread like a wildfire in your belly. You missed him. You still loved him. Worst of all, you had to pretend everything was all alright in front of your family when actually you were breaking apart inside.

Harry hadn’t messaged saying that he was or wasn’t coming, but after everything that had happened you were confident he was going to be a no show, and you would be the embarrassment of the family once again. Your relationship had been very private and exclusive, but Harry’s fans were so investigative you wouldn’t be surprised if they knew that you’d broken up and were aware that you were at a wedding today without him. Neither of you had made a public statement about your breakup, but neither of your wanted to damage each other even more. Fans suspected though and rumours travel fast.

“Y/N how are you doing? How’s Harry?” Another aunt came and asked you, this time with your mother in tow.

“Oh he’s great, yes.” You smiled forcefully, not actually having a clue how your ex-boyfriend was doing. You didn’t keep up with his social media because you were afraid of what you might find.

“Where is he? Is he here?” Your aunt asked.

“He’s late, apparently.” Your mother answered for you, sneeringly. “You’ll be made a fool of if he’s a no show Y/N.”

“I know.”

“I hope everything goes well for you both.” Your aunt kindly said, before waiting for your mum to say something nice too. That was a mistake though.

“Well it’s unlikely she’ll find someone again!” Your mother laughed and pulled your aunt away from you. You furrowed your eyebrows and let your heart sink low.

What were you thinking, letting Harry go like that? Your mum was right, you were never going to find anyone else again. You were so lucky with Harry. He was so kind and so patient with you, but obviously he’d run out of steam towards the end. It doesn’t surprise you. You’ve always been told you’re a mighty handful and you need a lot of work put into looking after you, so you understand why you were probably too much for Harry. The showbiz life had never really been something you’d completely submerged yourself into, whereas you guess for Olivia it was rooted in her from birth. She understood Harry’s world the same way he did hers. They would match perfectly for each other, if that’s what they wanted.

You watched the room continue as usual, but you couldn’t keep yourself here. There was too much sadness welling deep within you that you wanted to just run and then keep running. So you did, only to get as far as the bench in the front courtyard. The outside felt calmer and more freeing than inside, you sat and absorbed it for a while, not realising that you were crying until your pretty multicoloured dress had grown darker with a pool of your tears.

“Shit.” You tried rubbing the tears out, but only made you cry a little harder. You thought about your makeup running and tried to compose yourself, fanning your face to calm it down from the heat now.

“And here I was thinking weddings were supposed to be happy.”

You stopped fanning your face to look at him. You couldn’t believe he was standing there, dressed in a beautiful white suit and salmon pink shirt underneath to compliment the colours of your dress - the outfit that you’d helped him pick out over a year ago. He’d remembered. He trusted that you’d still be wearing this dress. He was a sight alright. A vision of beauty and love.

“Harry?” You questioned, wiping your under eyes to clear away any running mascara, not quite believing he was standing there.

“So what was it? Bad music playing? No vodka? Or maybe there’s nowhere for you to escape to go read the book I know you have stuffed away in your clutch bag.” He stood at a distance from you, hands in his trouser pockets, to make sure you were comfortable.

“I brought vodka instead of the book.” You chuckled, reaching into your clutch to prove it to him.

“Lucky for you, i’ve come to save the day.” Harry reached to the inside of his blazer pocket and pulled out a Kindle. You’d always been debating whether or not to buy one, because the feeling of having a book to turn its’ physical pages is a feeling second to none. “Take it, it’s yours.”

Harry handed it out to you and you stood up to reach for it hesitantly. Harry assured you that it was okay and that you’d been reading too many books if you thought it was a trap of some sort.

“Thank you, Harry.” You spoke sincerely. You stroked your thumb over the cover and turned the case lid over to start up the screen. The screen lit up and it was set to a picture of your favourite quote, annotated just as you would have in your own book. You chuckled and let a few tears drop from the kindness of all of this.

“And then…” Harry unlocked the Kindle with your birthday as the password, before clicking on the library so you could discover what was waiting for you on your virtual shelves. Harry had downloaded all your most favourite books, whilst also downloading the ones he knew had been on your to-be-read list. He’d even added a few of his favourite books too, just because you liked reading his recommendations.

You smiled, but felt so lost.

“W-why are you here, H?” You asked, closing the lid and bravely looking up into his enchanting eyes. You had to control yourself not to comment on how wondrous they looked.

“To save the day.” He chuckled in repeat, until he knew you weren’t taking that for an answer. “Because I fucked up. Big league time.”

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at your shoes to see that they weren’t that far apart at all. He was so close to you, yet he wasn’t yours to catch.

“And i’ll never forgive myself for letting you walk out of that door. The promotion shit with Olivia? Done. I’ve finished. I explained that the movie isn’t as important to me as you. You,” Harry paused to breathe out, and took the risk of guiding your jaw up to meet your gaze with his soft hand, “you are real Y/N. You’re so important and key to my life and it bloody terrified me, still does actually, to think that you make me feel this way. I want everything with you. Marriage, kids, a home. A life. I was so worried I would screw it all up, though, to the point where I did screw it all up. I lost you and so I lost me. It’s selfish of me to ask whether any part of your heart still wants me, but—”

“Yes.” You quickly interjected before he could say something he’d later regret. “There is, yes.”

“R-really?” He stumbled over his response, not expecting you to react so soon but his words had got to you. His feelings were vulnerable and raw and it reminded you of how much you love him and feel safe with him.

“Why? Would you like me to say different.” You teased.

“No,” Harry rushed, stepping closer towards you, “God now. Stay, please. Forever, if you’ll have me?”

“I can deal with forever.” You leaned up to where his lips were, craving the taste of them against yours so badly. “Can I?” You looked between his lips and his eyes, watching his eyes coo in admiration of you. His arms snaked around your neck and cupped the back of your head, resting his ringed fingers against your skin delicately.

“You don’t have to ask, angel.” And with that you didn’t hesitate to reclaim your clips on his. He tasted as sweet and as soft as you could remember. The hint of mint sweets he kept in his car could be tasted all over his mouth, and he could no doubt taste the vodka on yours. He took no time in rushing to have his tongue exploring your mouth once mouth, biting on your lip when he got the chance to. He wanted you to remember this moment and how much love he has for you, and always will. Just as you do for him.

Hesitantly pulling away you smiled at him cheekily, feeling so much lighter and happier to have him here. With you in his arms so expertly.

“What?” He asked, leaving a quick kiss to your nose, inhaling his scent as he did.

“Just can’t believe you’re here.” You stroked his cheek with your thumb, and he leaned into your touch so comfortably. He had missed you so damn much, and it showed.

“Let you down once before and I wasn’t going to do it again.”

“So you’d have shown up even if I hadn’t?”

“Not happily, but yes.” He laughed thinking about it.

“Why?” You laughed with him.

“I’ve got to make my impression on your family somehow. Need to remind some of them how amazing and beautiful their special Y/N L/N is.”

“Some are going to need a lot more persuading than others.” You sighed, side-frowning over your words.

“No offence, but anyone who doesn’t treat you as a fucking diamond doesn’t deserve you and should watch out for kick up their backside from me.” You laughed over his empty threat and buried your head against his chest, listening to the heartbeat and rumble of laughter that came from within. This moment alone felt like home. Safe and warm.

“I love you, H.”

“Bloody love you too.”

Harry ended up returning to the wedding with you, much to your mothers surprise, and you both enjoyed the celebrations together. You shut yourselves out from everybody and just danced, talked and drank the night away.

You were so in love.

Later, photos got leaked of the wedding and it showed you and Harry dancing away in one of the backgrounds of the photos. It was supposed to be a shot of just the bride and groom, but you two have managed to get caught in it. You looked so caught up in each other that you still weren’t even aware the photo had been taken. You and Harry had determinedly avoided the camera all night, exactly for this reason, but a part of you was kind of happy that this one photo got leaked, because it showed the world that Harry was yours and you were his. It showed that you were together, or back-together as addressed by some FBI fans, and that you were stronger for it.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #3: Claim This Desire

Words:  ca. 7,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: lime Content: language, sexual situations 

This is a bad idea.

A monumentally, boneheaded, epically bad idea and I have only myself to blame. Why the fuck did I suggest just the two of us going away for a week to our parents’ cabin?

Alone. 

Isolated. 

By ourselves.

Did I mention this is a bad idea?

I take my time putting away the last of our groceries in the refrigerator in a futile attempt to distract myself from the sounds of Elsa moving around in the cabin’s only bedroom in which she is getting it ready for tonight. Barely audible humming floats out of the bedroom and the urge to flee completely drains from me. My sister only ever hums when she’s extremely happy. Now I feel guilty for wishing to not be here.

With the kitchen wiped down and the bags of groceries stowed away, I have nothing to do while I wait for Elsa to finish so I open a bag of green, gummy frogs. My dumb ass hadn’t read the online listing closely enough and accidentally bought twelve bags of Sharable Sized bags instead of twelve personal sized bags. I am now the proud owner of almost four pounds of gummy frogs. I’ll be eating them for weeks. Out of nowhere, a hand reaches into the bag and plucks out a piece of candy.

“All finished?” I smile at Elsa’s relaxed look. The last six months had been particularly stressful for her with the promotion. Something else had been bothering her but she wouldn’t tell me. 

“Yes. Let’s have a quick dinner then go to bed.” Elsa covers her yawn with a hand. “I’m still tired from the drive up here.”

“How? You slept the whole way.” Luckily, I have a backlog of podcasts to keep me company.

“I didn’t sleep the whole three hours.”

“Oh yes, waking up long enough to ask for an iced tea when I stopped for gas and snacks before falling back asleep totally counts.” I don’t bother resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “I put your warm, unopened can in the fridge.”

“I was a little tired.” A faint blush dusts her cheeks.

“Obviously.” I tilt by bag of gummy frogs to Elsa, offering them to her.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Umm… yes?” I frown in confusion. Do I really look bad or something?

“Never, in twenty-seven years, have you ever willingly shared your gummy frogs.”

“Not true!” Just because I can’t remember a time I have, doesn’t mean it has never happened.

Elsa raises an eyebrow.

“I thought you would like one?”

That damn sexy eyebrow stays up.

“Fine! I accidentally ordered too many.” Fuck. Now I’m even finding her eyebrows sexy. There are not enough seconds in a day to count all the ways I am screwed. 

“How much is too many?”

“I might have… possibly… kinda… ordered twelve bags.” Okay, I didn’t think saying it out loud would actually be worse than when I first opened the box. Who wants to admit to their crush that they are an oblivious idiot?

“Twelve?” Gorgeous blue eyes twinkle in amusement.

“I thought I was ordering the smaller bags!”

“Didn’t the price clue you in?” My sister looks like she is struggling not to laugh. 

“I wasn’t paying attention.” My order had two books, face wash, a new reusable water bottle, and three cute new bands for my watch. Twenty-six dollars for my candy didn’t even register.

“And now you own your own personal plague.” Elsa takes another frog and eats it. “A delicious plague.”

I hand her the half-full bag of candy before reaching over to turn on the stove to boil the pot of water. “How does pasta sound?”

“Perfect.” A kiss against my temple. “Thank you for the frogs.”

“You’re welcome. Now get out of the kitchen and pick out a movie.” Not that this cabin has much of a kitchen. The building only sports three rooms: a combination kitchen and living room, a bathroom just big enough for a sink, toilet, and minuscule shower, and a bedroom with a dresser and king sized bed. When we were kids, Elsa and I slept in sleeping bags on the living room floor. I miss our parents everyday but I am extremely thankful they live in England now. I would sooner sleep in the car than on the floor.

Sounds from the TV cause me to turn my head and see the opening scene of Jurassic Park. We’ve seen this movie so many times I don’t even have to be looking at the screen to see it. I slice and butter a loaf of French bread while waiting for the oven to warm up and water to boil. 

“Can I help with anything?” Soundlessly, Elsa appears next to me.

I am mature enough to admit I very nearly screamed. Admit to myself. Other people don’t have to know. There are enough embarrassing things my sister knows about me, I don’t need to give her unknown ones too.

“Nope. I got this.” The bread goes into the warm oven and I avert my eyes. My racing heartbeat sounds loud in my ears. Sometime while I was slicing and buttering bread, Elsa changed into the tiniest shorts and tank top known to man.

Yup. This is a bad idea.

* * * * *

I am a bad sister. Not the worst out there (at least according to all the True Crime shows I watch) but I am still a bad sister. The second Anna suggested we take a vacation together out here, I remembered that this place only has one bed and agreed immediately knowing this would happen; this being her sleeping peacefully in my arms. I can’t contain the need to hum so I try to keep it as low as I can. 

Soft sleepy sounds come from my sister and she tightens her clutch on my shirt, warm breaths puff against my neck. This alone makes the whole vacation worth it. More sleepy noises and I look down to see Anna’s eyes fluttering open.

“Good morning, my little cuddle bunny.” The old nickname brings a smile to my lips. It doesn’t matter if she is four or twenty-seven, if you’re sleeping in the same bed as her, she will snuggle into you the second sleep claims her. 

“Good morning.” She shifts even closer to me, Anna’s soft curves pressing against me. “What were you humming?”

“‘You Go to My Head.’ Ready to get up?” For very selfish reasons, I want to stay just like this all day. Preferably without clothes.

“Nooooo. Five more minutes.” Lips brush against my neck as she speaks and I hope Anna can’t feel how hard my heart is pounding.

“You said that ten minutes ago.” My sense of self preservation doesn’t seem to be working as it stays silent when I pull her even closer until we are practically occupying the same space. 

“We’re on va…” Anna didn’t even finish the sentence before dozing off again.

Getting up didn’t sound particularly enticing anyway. Judging by the chill in the room, the fire in the wood burning stove must have gone out hours ago. I silently debate if I should brave the cold to light it again or wait for Anna to do it. These shorts, bought specifically for this trip, came nowhere close to mid thigh and the mere thought of leaving this warm bed brings on a phantom chill. 

An evil thought crosses my mind. I slide out of bed and pad into the main area of the cabin to get the fire going again. When I return to our bed, I pause for a single heartbeat. It is a sister’s sworn duty to always warm her cold toes on her sister. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Anna flings herself away and off the bed. She lands on the floor with a loud thud.

“Morning, Sunshine!” I can’t contain my laughter. 

“Fuck you.” Floats up from out of sight.

No objections here. I poke my head over the side and look down. If looks could kill, that would have taken out half the forest.

“French Toast for breakfast?” These giggles better stop, there are way too many good places to hide a body round here.

“With cinnamon and strawberries?” A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

“Absolutely.” Food is always the best way to bribe for Anna’s forgiveness and the beaming smile tells me the frosty wake up call is excused.

* * * * * 

“Do you have gloves?” Elsa stares at her list and waits for my answer.

“Yes.”

“Charged the lantern?” 

“Yes.” Another check on her list.

“Did you pack-“

“Elsa, we’ll only be five minutes from here. If we forget anything we can come back.” 

“But-“

I interrupt Elsa with a quick peck on the lips. “We’ll be fine. Let’s go.” I grab her hand and pull her with me out into the darkness. Stupid. That was incredibly stupid. It felt natural to lean in and steal a kiss, like it is something we normally do. But now that I know how they feel, all I want to do is push her up against a wall and really feast on those amazing lips. Fuck fuck fuck. Why is she so perfect? 

Holding the lantern up, we walk in silence the few minutes it takes to get to the wide clearing. I am kicking myself the whole way, hoping Elsa isn’t freaking out. 

“Here looks good.” My eyes stay firmly on the picnic blanket I am spreading out, giving the task much more attention it deserves. The light from the lantern shifts and I hear Elsa putting down the backpack before she sits. I continue to shift awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Are you going to sit down?” It is the hesitancy I hear that brings my gaze up to see my sister looking crestfallen. “Do you want your own spot?” She holds out the red blanket we brought in case the night turns chilly.

There is pond scum, there is dirt, there are worms, then there is me lower than any of those. 

“Of course not.” I sit down next to Elsa, leaving, what I hope, is an appropriate amount of space between us. Not too far so she thinks I don’t want to sit with her but not too close and make her potentially uncomfortable. Stupid kiss. Okay, not stupid, just epically poorly timed kiss.

“When is it supposed to start?” Elsa opens the backpack and pulls out two canteens of water.

“It should start…” a glance at the smart watch our parents gave me last year, “in ten minutes.”

“Are you excited?”

“Yeah! I’ve been waiting two years for this.” Excitement overrides my nervousness and I turn to Elsa. At this moment, I know how lucky my life truly is. This stunning woman is beside me, smiling only at me, spending her precious time with me. 

“Are you ready?” Elsa pauses before switching off the lantern.

I lay down, looking up at the sky. “Let’s go.”

Darkness surrounds us. Slowly, bit by bit, my eyes adjust and the sky fills with stars. My eyes immediately find the Big Dipper and follow the two stars at the end of the cup to the North Star, from there I spot the constellation Cygnus flying along the Milky Way, visible and bright. I am thankful for the moonless sky, it has been far too long since I’ve seen so many stars. 

“Wow.” 

“I know.” Not many stars are visible back home with all the light pollution. I turn my head to watch Elsa studying the night sky. When was the last time we did this? Probably high school. Joy fills me as I watch this amazing woman beside me.

Elsa turns her head to me and our eyes lock. The air thickens around us. I want to kiss her. A real kiss; one that can’t be explained away as something innocent. My skin itches with the need to lean forward and taste those lips, explore her mouth, claim every part of her Elsa will give me.

Before I can surrender to the little voice urging me into action, a sizzling sound from overhead breaks the spell. Both of us turn our gazes to the night sky. Streaks of light dart across the sky with a sizzling sound. One. Two. Three. Then the night sky fills with light and sound.

“I didn’t know meteor showers made a sound.” Awe in Elsa’s whisper matches how I feel.

“It’s from the meteor traveling through our upper atmosphere.” My eyes stay on the light display above us. I’m so distracted that I fail to notice Elsa moving until her head is on my shoulder, arm wrapping around my waist. I tense at the unexpected touch.

My frozen brain jolts back into action when I feel my sister begin to pull away and I wrap my arms around her, stopping her retreat. I can’t look down, every lustful thought is sure to be clearly seen on my face.

Humming starts up and I easily recognize the song. ‘The Very Thought of You’ is weaving with hissing meteors and the usual nighttime sounds of the forest, making a perfect song for this moment. It’s a fool’s hope that the dark can obscure my face enough with how close we are. I look down. A beat then Elsa’s eyes, twinkling with starlight, meets my gaze. 

I kiss her. This is no chaste kiss. It is of desire and devotion and, above all else, love. Elsa does not hesitate to return the kiss. Joy morphs into hunger at the first brush of her tongue against my lips. 

“You’re missing your meteor shower.” Elsa’s breathless whisper sends a shiver through me from head to toe, the gentle nip to my earlobe stops all higher brain function.

To hell with that, nothing matters more than the warm body pressed against mine. I tug her leg over my hip, wanting to be even closer. She grinds into me and sets my body aflame.

* * * * * 

A beam of sunlight hits my face, waking me up from a dreamless sleep and I can’t be annoyed by it when I remember why we didn’t close the curtains last night. I stretch, the feeling of delightfully sore muscles bringing a smile to my face.

“Good morning, sleepy- what the fuck?!” Anna’s horrified voice chases away any lingering sleepiness.

“Anna?” Holding the sheet against my bare chest, I sit up and reluctantly turn my gaze. My heart drops at her fear. I fight to chase away thoughts that she regrets last night. 

“Who are you? What are you?” Anna holds the sheet to her own bare chest and scoots to the edge of the bed. 

“It’s-it’s me.” Seeing her pull away brings tears to my eyes and I close them before turning away, not wanting to watch Anna distance herself further. “You regret last night.” I can’t bring myself to make it a question and hear her voice say the obvious answer.

“Elsa?” Sounds of rustling and her hand turns my face back to her. “Please open your eyes.”

There is nothing I can deny this woman even if it will break my heart. But instead of disgust as I expect, I see curiosity, searching.

“It is you.” She presses our foreheads together and heaves a sigh of relief. “Thank god it’s you.”

“Of course? Who else would I be?” This morning is a roller coaster of confusion. I lift up my hand intending to tuck a lock of red hair back but stop halfway there. My hand is lavender. My  whole arm is changed and my nails are black. Pulling the sheet away from my body, I peek down at myself. It is everywhere. Dizziness grips me and it’s only because Anna grabs my shoulders that I don’t fall over.

“Easy, Elsa. You need to breathe.” She pulls me into her arms and I calm enough to not go spinning out into space.

The lump in my throat makes it impossible to talk. This must be a punishment for last night. Stopping us last night didn’t even cross my mind, I willingly lost myself in joy and passion. 

“Hey.” Anna gently tilts my head towards her. “Don’t do that.” 

I hesitantly look into her eyes, unsure what I will see.

“Don’t regret last night.” Taking my hand in hers, she presses it against her chest, where I can feel her heart pounding. “Please don’t regret last night.”

“I don’t.” Partially true. Last was perfect and I want to repeat it all week but then this morning happened. Maybe if I did feel an ounce of remorse for it I would not have ended up purple.

“Good.” Tension leaks out of Anna. She leans in and kisses me before I can stop her. “It feels a little strange to kiss you with your tusks but I don’t hate it.”

“Tusks?” Before I can say anything else, Anna kisses me again, sliding her tongue into my mouth. Energy fills me and my fingers itch to pull the sheet aside and repeat last night. I pull back, stopping myself from pushing things further.

“Breakfast.” Anna pulls back too and I watch her struggling to catch her breath. “We should have breakfast.”

“Okay.” My voice sounds rough even to my ears. It takes a great deal of control not to pull her back into me.

Anna opens her mouth, closes it, then scrambles out of bed. I quickly close my eyes to avoid the temptation that is all that skin. Soft skin. Responsive skin. Delicious skin. Stop. Figuring out how to reverse this is what I should be concentrating on not other, enjoyable, amazing, pleasurable things. Stop. Distraction. I need a distraction. I wait until the sound of the bedroom door closes before I open my eyes again. The full length mirror on the bedroom door catches my attention. After sliding out of bed, I walk over to see what I look like.

Well, this is disturbing. I am purple all over (including my nipples which are a much darker shade), my toenails are black like my fingernails, two small half inch tusks jut up from my lower jaw, the five inch horns twisting up out of the top of my forehead don’t bother me as much as my eyes, my once blue eyes are now a bright red. At least my hair is still blonde. Movement from behind me catches my eye and I turn my head. A tail. I have a fucking dark purple tail. Now that I know it’s there, I can sense it in a tiny corner of my mind and it only takes a little bit of concentration to control it.  Long and skinny, it has a flat spade-like tip, and I can feel the air flow over it as it moves.

The smell of cooking bacon fills the room and I rush to dress, my stomach grumbling the whole time. 

* * * * * 

I sit down across from Elsa after placing both our plates down.

“This smells great. Thank you for cooking.” And that smile makes it worth getting splattered with little bits of bacon grease.

“You’re welcome.” I notice her clothes and frown. “Why are you wearing a hoodie? Are you cold?” If she is cold, why the shorts? It is supposed to be warm today.

Her cheeks turn a darker purple and I can’t help but be charmed when I realize this is her blushing.

“None of my bras or shirts fit.” Her gaze stay on her plate while eats.

“Oh.” My eyes shift to her chest and see the once comfortably fitting hoodie strain slightly at her chest. Only a flicker of something dark moving behind Elsa pulls my attention away. “Is that a tail?”

“Yes.” Her eyes meet mine. 

It’s going to take some time to get used to the red. Now is not the time to think about that. I can’t imagine how scary it must be to wake up suddenly looking like this. It’s still Elsa though. I can absolutely roll with this. But first, I need to get that nervous look off her face.

“Can you control it?” I hope my question sounds as curious and unconcerned as I am trying to sound. 

“Yes.” The tail stops swishing randomly around and the tip bends up and down in half, waving at me.

“That’s so cool!” So much for bland. But seeing Elsa’s shoulders relax has me believing calm might not be the way to go. Before I can ask anything else, Elsa speaks up.

“How do I get home?” Tension returns to her movements as she starts to eat.

“I’ve been thinking about that.” I eat a forkful of hot eggs. Eating bacon and toast cold is perfectly fine, eating eggs cold is impossible. “You should live with me until we figure this out. My apartment has a parking garage attached. We can get there late at night when no one’s around. All you’d need to do is wear your hood up and we can sneak you in.”

“I can request to work from home. I’ll need an excuse to not go in at all.” Elsa finishes her food before I get even a quarter through mine.

“Say you broke a leg and the doctor said to stay off it for a couple of weeks. Wait, you’ll need a doctor’s note for that.” When Elsa steals a piece of toast, I push my mostly full plate to her and lean back to grab an apple off the counter. 

“Thank you. My job doesn’t require doctor notes.” Elsa quickly eats the food on the plate.

“Lucky. I should work for you.” Not. I’d rather jump off a cliff than work with numbers all day. “Do you want me to make you another plate?”

It takes a few moments before she shakes her head.

“Sure? I can-“ A flash of red light blinds me and it takes a bit for my eyesight to come back.

“Are you Elsa Fredricks?” The deep, gravely voice comes from in front of me so I look down at the table, uncertain what exactly I’m looking at. Standing at maybe four inches tall, the little red creature sports curly black ram horns, a tail, and cloven feet.

“Umm… hi.” He turns to face me and I see his face. Just like Elsa, he has tusks, though much longer, sprouting up from his lower jaw and solid black eyes.

“You must be her sister, Anna.” He waits for my nod. “Greetings, Fredricks sisters. I am Harrlock of the Reegnul kingdom.” Harrlock bows. “I am here to ease Elsa into her new existence.”

“Ease how?” If he tries to take my sister away, I’ll squash him like a bug.

Before either of us gets an answer, the little creature jumps off the table and, after another bright flash of red light, appears before us much, much taller. As in seven feet taller and so muscular I’m certain he could demolish my car without breaking a sweat.

“I am here to teach her how to conceal herself and answer questions about her existence.” He sets down a leather (please let it just be normal leather) bag I did not see earlier.

“What am I?” To anyone else, Elsa appears calm and relaxed but I can see the subtle signs of tension.

“You are a succubus.” Muscles moving around his eyes give me the impression he is looking between us. “A linked succubus. That will make this easier. It is bothersome having to find people for new succubi to feed off of.”

“A succubus?” I watch Elsa turn a concerning shade of pastel purple. “Last night… I… I forced her?”

“No.” The answer is unhesitating. “It is impossible to influence a linked partner, only enhance their pleasure. You can influence others only if they’re interested but it will take sex with multiple people to produce the amount energy one night with your link can.”

“Oh.” I expect to see Elsa blush at the mention of sex, instead she just looks relieved. Good. I had no doubts. “Wait, you’re saying she’s my ‘link’? What is a ‘link’?”

“You humans would call it marriage. It is more permanent than that, there is no divorce between linked beings.”

“And we need to have-have-have…” Elsa’s blush matches mine. Kinda. Not even twenty-four hours later and we’re talking about this with a stranger.

“In order for your magic to replenish and control your succubus side you will need to have sex.” He points to me. “Preferably with you. It will be the best nourishment for her.” Harrlock says this far too calmly for my taste.

“But we’re sisters!” Like Big Red and Scary doesn’t know that or that it stopped me last night.

“Unimportant. You are linked.” Either he is very patient or I suck at reading demon expressions. “Any other questions?”

Lots but only one comes to mind. “You’re a demon. Why are we not running away screaming?” I feel calm with only a distant part of myself wanting to flee in terror.

“My kind uses magic to calm living creatures around us. We use it to hunt. But,” he continues on before I can open my mouth, “I have not hunted humans in thousands of years. You taste horrible now.”

Good to know I offend his delicate palate.      

“Now that’s settled, let’s begin.”

* * * * * 

All three of us are in the meadow Anna and I watched the meteor shower from. Harrlock said it would be dangerous to practice with my new magic inside right now. When he said that, I asked Anna to stay at the cabin but she flat out refused. Now they’re standing six feet away and I’m hoping he keeps her safe from me.

“Are you ready?” I get the feeling that if I say no that he would wait patiently for me to be ready. Guess being thousands and thousands of years old has more than a few advantages.

“Yes.” I’m not so patient. The sooner I can look normal, the sooner Anna doesn’t have to see me this way.

“Close your eyes.”

I close them and listen intently.

“Imagine a stone is in your stomach. Concentrate on that stone. Think only of that stone. Then slowly relax and let the image fade. Feel the energy flow back from your stomach to the rest of your body.”

It feels like water is lazily flowing through me, filling up every part. 

“Do you feel it now?”

“Yes.” It moves under my skin, waiting for me to command.

“Repeat the exercise until you can move your magic to any part of your body you desire it to.”

I take a deep breath and picture the rock. Magic flows.

“What caused Elsa to change?” Anna tries to keep her voice low but I can still hear her.

“Major celestial events, like meteor showers or eclipses, cause certain humans to change.” Harrlock explains, his low voice even lower.

“If we stayed inside she would she still have changed?”

“Yes.”

Another deep breath and my magic stutters, the flow uneven.

“Why were you so tiny when you first appeared?”

“It takes less magic to travel between dimensions when I’m smaller.”

The rock. Picture the rock.

“How many demon countries are there?”

“There are nine demon kingdoms with a neutral one, Reegnul, in the center. It is a place for negotiations between kingdoms and for newly made demons to acclimate.”

My magic doesn’t move.

“How long-“

“Anna.” I open my eyes and raise an eyebrow, trying not to snap in frustration but frustration still leaks through.

“Oops, sorry. Shutting up now.” Anna pantomimes zipping her mouth.

“Thank you.” Before I close my eyes again I see the corners of Harrlock’s lips twitch.

I imagine a rock.

* * * * * 

“Harrlock is sleeping outside. He says that since I’m still learning, my magic can leak out while I sleep and make him nauseous.” Elsa drags her feet into our bedroom.

“Tired?” If someone asks me to describe my sister in one word I would say ‘stubborn.’ I could see her movements slowly turn sluggish several hours before she stopped practicing. She’d probably still be out in the field if Harrlock hadn’t instructed her to stop or there would be no lessons tomorrow.

“Extremely.” Leaning against the dresser by the door, Elsa sighs. “Thank you for today. I don’t know how I would have coped without you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that but you’re welcome.” She’s my sister and I’m in love with her, doing anything besides being there for Elsa didn’t even cross my mind. I’m just thankful that the demon universe doesn’t have an issue with us or things would get even more complicated than they already are.

Elsa smiles at me then walks to the closet and pulls out a blanket. “Sweet dreams.” She walks over to our bedroom door.

“Wait, wait, wait. Where are you going? Does Harrlock need a blanket or something?” I sit up straighter in the bed, ready to chase after her if I need to.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch.” Elsa hugs the folded blanket tight.

“Do you want to sleep on the couch?” Maybe she needs some time alone.

“…no, not really.” 

“Then get over here.” I pat the bed next to me. It breaks my heart to see her so nervous, like she’s waiting for me to bolt or pull away in horror.

Stiffly, still tightly clutching the blanket, Elsa walks over and sits on the bed, leaving plenty of room between us.

Carefully I tug the blanket away and scoot closer. “This,” I gently caress a lavender cheek, “doesn’t bother me.” 

“It doesn’t?” Hope fills her gaze.

“It’ll take some getting used to but I like it and you’re still Elsa.” Surely, it has been a month since she changed and not just this morning. Everything feels new and old at the same time. I bite my lip before speaking again. “Can I touch you?”

“Oh, sure.” Despite my question clearly surprising her, Elsa doesn’t look panicky which is all the approval I need to explore.

I run my fingers up to her neck, and just like everywhere else, her skin is soft while also feeling thicker, stronger than my own. My hand travels up to tuck back a lock of blonde hair only to find her once rounded ear is now pointed. Slowly, I use a finger to trace along its edge and take a note of her breath hitching. Next, I explore the base of her horns which appear to be pretty sensitive area judging by the gasp. The horns themselves are smooth and not black as I first thought, there are hints of purple in the right light.

“Are you okay? Can I continue?” Last thing I want is for her to want me to stop and not tell me.

“Yes.” Elsa’s husky response warms me but when our eyes meet I nearly jump in surprise. Her red eyes are glowing faintly.

The sight of her tail lazily moving catches my attention and I reach for it. Wrapping around my hand, it feels like warm velvet. I rub the spade shape at the end and Elsa moans loudly. Naughty ideas flood my mind when I realize she’s especially sensitive here.

“D-don’t.” Panting breaths fill the room. “I-I won’t be… be able to c-control… myself.”

Her glowing eyes rise to meet mine, desire etched into every feature of her face.  I rub her tail.

* * * * * 

I finish wiping down the small kitchen counter and hang the damp towel over the edge of the sink to dry. After five days teaching me how to disguise myself, Harrlock will go back home tomorrow. Part of me will miss him, he is a calm and patient teacher but I will not miss the morning approvals of mine and Anna’s nighttime activities to ‘replenish’ my magic. 

All morning, from the time we woke up through lunch, my glamour has been on and it hasn’t flickered once. I am proud of that. It means I’ll be able to go buy better fitting clothes when we get back home. Fortunately, Anna went into town and bought me a pair of jeans (two sizes too big so I have to wear a belt) and three shirts in the most brightest, obnoxious colors  (I’m certain she did that on purpose.) My tail tightens around my calf where it is uncomfortably hidden in my pants. The glamour only hides my appearance so my tail, if left out, can still knock things over, and horns can still be felt if someone touches my head.

“You have performed well, Elsa.” Harrlock looks pleased.

“Thank you. And you were right, it is getting easier to put on and maintain.” I am confident that the glamour will stay solid now. It held when Harrlock purposely broke a dish earlier, startling me into dropping my own plate. “I’m ready for the last test.”

“Good.” He motions for me to stay where I stand. “Anna, will you please come here.” 

“Sure.” Anna slips a bookmark into her book and walks over from the couch. “What’s up, Mr. Red?” 

For some reason the nickname, which she has been using all week, amuses Harrlock. I always say my sister can charm anyone, at any time, no matter how grumpy they are, and apparently that includes seven-foot tall demons. He leans over and whispers something in her ear.

Anna nods and turns to me. Words asking what is going on, die in my throat when she slinks towards me, the slow sway of her hips capturing my attention. Teal eyes lock on mine and my breath hitches at the heat in that gaze. She presses into me from chest to knees, the warmth of her body sets my skin tingling. Lips brush over mine and my control breaks. My hands grab her hips, pulling them tight against mine and greedily press my lips to hers. A distant part of me remembers we are not alone and while it doesn’t stop me from deepening our kiss, I make sure not to let my hands wonder. Far too soon for my taste, Anna pulls back and kisses along my jaw.

“You’re purple again.” The whisper in my ear cuts through the haze I’m floating in. 

Looking down, still buzzing from our kiss, I see my glamour is gone and I am clueless when that happened. 

“As a succubus,” Harrlock’s deep voice draws my attention and I the corners of his mouth turn up into a small smile, “lust is a weakness you will have to learn to manage. Anna will be by far the strongest distraction due to your link but other human’s lust will be also affect you.”

“So we’ll need to practice.” I feel myself perk up at the idea. The old part of me recoils at the thought of Harrlock being in the room but I easily ignore it. 

“Lots and lots.” Anna whispers then nips my earlobe before I can ask if she’d mind helping. 

“Yes, you will need to work on it.” This time Harrlock doesn’t bother stifling his amusement and shakes his head. “Please try again.”

Practice makes perfect. 

* * * * * 

There are few views more perfect in life than seeing Elsa in those tiny shorts bend over to pick up the pillow that fell off the couch. All that curvy purple legs, magnificently soft ass, and sexy tail on display has me counting down the seconds until Mr. Red leaves. It should probably disturb me how quickly I have started preferring this over how she used to look but I don’t give a fuck. I have never seen her look more confident or comfortable before and it’s sexy as hell. Elsa continues to hum ‘Time After Time’ as she tidies the sitting area and my admiring eyes stay glued to her. A chuckle behind me breaks my ogling. I look over my shoulder.

“It is time for me to leave.” He picks up the bag at his feet.

“Aww, sure you don’t want to stay for lunch, Mr. Red?” I don’t know what possessed me to call him that when he first showed up. I’m just glad he finds it humorous and doesn’t set me on fire or something.

“Why humans insist on ruining perfectly good meat by burning it is a mystery.” He rolls his eyes and I smirk at the familiar complainant. “Now that Elsa can control her glamour, I must return to my other students. They have rested enough.”

“Will we see you again?” Elsa is now standing beside me, wraps an arm around my shoulders and I lean into her.

“Yes, when you and Anna decide to enter the demon realm, I will be your guide.” 

“Wait, I can come too? But I’m not a demon.” I believed I would be left behind when the time came and had been doing my best to ignore the ache in my chest at the thought.

“When the two of you,” he motions between us, “are fully bonded, it will be safe for you but not before then. Some of us have not lost their taste for human flesh.” 

I feel myself pale at the thought. Then I catch the small smirk. Jokes? He knows how to make jokes now? My glare only furthers his amusement. Bastard.

“The succubus Liliana will visit you in a few weeks to teach you how to use your succubus skills.” Mr. Red pulls out something out of his bag and hands it to Elsa. “Use this if you need to contact me.”

“Wow.” Sitting in Elsa’s hand is a necklace with a quarter-sized deep red ruby stone in an intricate silver filigree setting attached to a thin chain. It looks old. Really old. Something about it tells me it wasn’t made here.

“To use it,” his deep voice captures my attention again, “hold it, push a little bit of your magic into it then ask for me. I will be able to speak to you in your mind as long as you are touching it.”

“She doesn’t have to use Latin or something?” Every movie I’d seen both the demon and human use Latin. I’m pretty sure it’s even still used by the Catholic Church. 

“Latin?” Eyebrow raised, he waits for me to explain.

“Yeah,” I gesture at him, “isn’t it what you guys use for contracts and spells and stuff?”

“Why would we use that dead language?” His infinite patience continues as he answers my millionth question during his stay. “Magic relies heavily on intent and that can become obscured if the caster uses a language they were not raised with.”

“Wouldn’t it sound better though? My sister can totally learn Latin then she can sound like a badass while zapping people.” It takes effort but I refrain from making ‘pew pew’ noises. Elsa sighs beside me, clearly not seeing how cool that would be.

He stops me from arguing my case further, “I have seen demons strike themselves with lightning instead of their opponent because they were too lazy to translate a spell into their native tongue.” 

“Oh.” I turn to Elsa. “No Latin.”

“I will do my best to refrain from learning it.” Elsa carefully puts the necklace around her neck; the pendant stopping mid-chest, the perfect length for it to hide under her shirt.

“Farewell, Fredricks Sisters. Until I see you in my realm, good health to you both.” 

“Thanks! You too.” I grin at Mr. Red. Though he looks really scary, he had been super nice to us. I’m good at knowing when people are faking nice to me and I didn’t get that vibe at all.

“Thank you for all your help.” Elsa gives a cute little wave goodbye. 

A red flash of light and the seven foot demon is four inches tall again, another flash of red light and he disappears. Alone again at last. 

“We should finish cleaning up so we can leave early tomorrow.” Like the place isn’t nearly spotless already. Elsa only takes one step before I stop her.

“You know, without traffic, it takes three hours to drive home.” Raising my hand to my chin, I pretend to be thinking things through.

“It does.” Elsa turns to me with a curious look.

“Three hours to your apartment,” I begin ticking points off on my fingers, “an hour to pack anything you may need for a few weeks-“

“Why do I-“

I ignore her and continue on, “Thirty minutes to drive to my place, and ten minutes to get everything up to the apartment. That’s a lot of time.”

“Yes? But why am I staying at your place?”

“Because it’s bigger than yours.” Okay, this is probably the stupidest way to ask Elsa to move in but since I started I will have to go with it.

“You want me to move in?” The smile creeping onto her face makes me hopeful.

“Yup. Gotta keep you supplied with magic.” Innocent, look innocent damn it.

“Thank you for your noble sacrifice.” Elsa’s smile could not get any bigger. “Why don’t we try living together part time first?”

“Okay.” Not exactly the response I was going for but I’ll take it. It will give me an opportunity to thoroughly convince her to stay permanently.

“What does how long everything takes have to do with moving in?” Even with the horns, her head tilt reminds me of an adorable puppy, happily waiting to understand.

“Doing all that will take us almost five hours without traffic. That’s a long time to have a glamour on.” It only takes three steps to be pressed against Elsa. I wrap my arms around her neck and I play with the fine hair on her nape. “We can’t have your magic running out along the way, can we.”

“No, we can’t.” Hands grip my hips and her eyes start glowing faintly red. Elsa starts pushing me back towards our bedroom.

“We should make sure you’re topped up.” The velvety feel of her tail travels under my shirt and up my back. Gentle pressure and my bra loosens. Now I feel like humming.

[misterewrites]

Deductive Wizardry: The Salt-Irons Case

Hey E here with a new chapter! woo! I hope you are all doing okay in these.....interesting times. You know I never understood why "may you live in interesting times" was a threat. I get it now. I want off the fucking ride guys. Please keep Ukraine in your hearts though step away if you need to. It's tough and really heartbreaking. Research good, reputable charities, watch out for misinformation from Russian Psyops and it's okay to take some time for yourself or maybe not want to hear about the war. It is a lot. For us state side we gotta watch out for Florida and Texas and hold a certain mouse accountable. 

Okay be safe, keep your loved ones safe. Wear your mask, wash your hands, get vaccinated if you can, be extra careful if you can't. Push global vaccinated cuz fuck this noise! :D Thank you so much all my readers. You make me so happy and it's nice to know there's some people who like my original work. As a writer I know how hard it is to get some traction for your own work and reading is already not everyone's thing so thank you so much. Feel free to share this with your friends, likes, reblogs and feedback are always welcomed because I love hearing that kind of stuff. E is out, have a great week! Bye!

Hey a more reader friendly site with the latest chapter up? No way! https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/94225096

And the last chapter in case you need a refresher? whaaaaat? https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/93202417

And the story from the beginning if you’re like “What is this? I’m bored and I got time to kill.”  https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

And if you like Arcane, Soul Eater, Genshin Impact, Legend of Zelda, Owl House or whatever else I happened to write you can find a list of all my works right here

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

And here at the end of our tour is the keep reading sign. for those of you leaving us have a good day, thanks for putting with this because promoting is kinda necessary for arts and fics. Bye bye!

Summary:  Finnrick survived his deadly alleyway encounter but the answer to this case eludes him still. It's time to do what he does best and put the clues together. Of course for that he's going to need a safe location and a good conspiracy board. Luckily he knows a place that has both.

-----

“So it’s that kind of day huh?”

“Mhm.” Finnrick responded, his gaze fixated upon the sight before him.

The M.R.R.D office was mostly empty save for one or two of the more dedicated officers given the lateness of the day: Tucked within a pocket dimension hidden in the backroom of Newton Haven City Hall and protected by powerful defensive magic put in place by a certain private investigator, the Magical Rapid Response Department was among one of the most secure places in the city.

The space itself had been magically expanded to be bigger on the inside: The main area where the various officers worked was roughly the equivalent of a warehouse though with marble tiling. The various colored doors led to much needed amenities: Kitchens, file storage, break rooms, nap rooms (for those Oh my god why won’t this day just stop moments.) security offices, gear and set up. There was even a two way portal that led directly to the Grimoire library for research purposes. The office was well equipped to handle any possible problem the magical world could throw at the city.

Too bad the walls couldn’t be changed. The paint was dull faded brown and no one, not even Finn, could figure how to get it to change colors.

Oh well.

“Well” Garrus the elf continued with his line of question, his sliver eyes peering curiously at Finnrick’s conspiracy board “This escalated huh son?”

“What makes you say that da?”

Garrus gestured to the black trench coat that hung off the seat “You took off your coat.”

Finnrick sighed as he stretched the back of his neck.

“And rolled up sleeves.” Garrus noticed with a hint of amusement “As your fake father should I be concerned?”

“Nah. Either I got it or I don’t. I need to review this.”

Officially Finnrick was not an employee of the M.R.R.D. He was considered an “Outside Asset.” which came with certain benefits and drawbacks. Finn was free to operate how he saw fit and without the limitations the M.R.R.D would normally have to deal with. He was given permission to use his magic at will and generally left alone to his own devices. This, however, also meant the M.R.R.D was not expected to assist him in any capacity beyond arresting the perpetrator if sufficient evidence was presented. Finnrick could not have any help from any officers not assigned to his case (if any had been), access to any of the department resources and not allowed to be near any open cases that he had not been hired to solve. He actually wasn’t supposed to be in the building to be honest.

Of course those rules were set in place in case The Council had decided to pay an unexpected visit. Those geezers were too traditional for Finnrick’s taste. Better for the department to cover their asses than deal with a Council hissy fit. Luckily Finnrick and M.R.R.D were close allies and no one actually minded having him around given how hard he worked to keep the city safe. Also he always repaired the wards for free whenever he came for a visit.

So “officially” Finnrick had no desk to work out his case on but the department used a board in the back that was considered free for anyone to use.

Garrus took a sip of his coffee as he took in all of Finn’s notes.

The plain board was covered with various index cards pinned to its surface. Different colored strings tied various names and locations together in a very crazed pattern. Some of the cards were circled to signify their importance while those that were crossed out indicted Finnrick either did not have enough to make them work or he found them irrelevant to the case at hand.

“Let’s start at the beginning. The Salt-Irons Apartments. Crossed out?” Garrus tilted his head curiously.

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever we’re dealing with was invited in. The protection wouldn’t have stopped it.”

Garrus nodded before moving onto the next clue “The victims? You don’t usually circle them.”

“True.” Finnrick agreed “But there’s dark magic afoot and either or both are behind it. So our victims are more than likely our bad guys as well. Until we can find them and get answers I can’t rule them out.”

“Sentinel?” Garrus cocked an eyebrow “Is that some kind of spell or something?”

“Person. Works out of the Northside. Means well but unconnected to the case. She’s a follow up for later.”

“I bet the Gatekeepers fucking loved that.”

Garrus and Finn turned around, their train of thought derailed by the new voice.

Eden Azreal was the other previously mentioned dedicated officer here tonight. A twenty something year old cleric of justice she took a her job very seriously. A little too much if Finnrick was going to be honest but only because she didn’t get the concept of rest.

Not that Finn was one to throw stones.

She was average height with long brown hair currently tied in a high ponytail. Despite her runner’s frame, Finn knew she routinely lifted a scary amount of terrifying weaponry on the daily with little effort. Based on the shine off her palish skin and the fact she was currently wearing a tank top/ yoga pants combo she’d probably just came back from exercising. Her fierce golden eyes twinkled with eagerness as she glanced back and forth between them.

“Well?” Eden asked impatiently.

Finnrick pursed his lips for a moment “Ma you’re not allowed to…”

“Fuck that.” She scoffed before pushing the boys to the side to make room for herself “Give me the details.”

Eden studied the board for a moment before blurting out “Okay what the hell am I looking at?”

“It’s our son’s conspiracy board.” Garrus answered with an impish grin.

The elf winced as Eden nudged his ribs playfully “Obviously but this is way more than we got. What are we thinking?”

“The victims probably were the cause of the dark magic.” Garrus filled in “I take it that’s where the mysterious ash and werewolf smugglers come into play.”

Finnrick confirmed with a nod “I sent the ash to get tested. One of Quinn’s cubs was dealing on the side.”

“So something illegal.” Eden finished “Not a lot of stuff on that list. Hoping it’ll give you an idea what the spell was?”

“No it wouldn’t be useful for that at this point. Trying to figure out the spell itself requires way more time and clues than I have.”

Eden frowned uneasily “So what are you expecting it to tell you?”

“Where.” Finnrick answered “Something big is going down tomorrow.”

Garrus raised an eyebrow quizzically “Tomorrow?”

“Full moon.” Finnrick clarified.

“The barriers will be at their weakest.” Eden clicked her tongue thoughtfully.

“Which is perfect for a summoning spell.” Garrus offered.

Finnrick shook his head “Whatever the victims made a deal with is here already. No point to try to summon it.”

“Deal?”

“Warlock. It mentioned being cheated when I fought it earlier.”

Eden whistled, clearly impressed by Finn’s detective work “Explains why you’re tired. So we have a warlock casting a dark magic spell and breaking a deal with something. You sure it’s not from here?”

Finnrick sighed as he ran his hands through his hair “It wasn’t a fan of sliver or bricks.”

Garrus scratched chin, ideas and theories starting form “Okay so let’s see if I got this straight: Warlock casts a dark spell, breaks a deal with their patron and now their patron is here on our plane of reality.”

“Not breaks.” Finnrick took a step closer to the board. He read each card over and over again, his mind trying to connect the dots “It said cheated. That means the victims kept their end of the deal in a way the creature hadn’t expecting. I’m willing to bet it traded their service for a spell of lost forbidden knowledge.”

The trio stood together in silence, their thoughts racing as one.

“Okay.” Finnrick spoke up, clearing his throat. Eden and Garrus leaned against some nearby desks well aware that it was case cracking time.

“Discount what we don’t know: The artists mannequins I found, the ash, illegal werewolf side dealing. Sentinel and the Salt-Irons. Amos.”

“Amos?”

“He’s in town.” Finnrick explained with a wave of his hand “Might be nothing. Might be something. But anyway it’s theory time.”

“Inkwell.”Eden gestured to one of the crossed out cards, her curiosity too great to ignore.

Finnrick rubbed his eyes “That is a problem for another day. Okay I’m Richard Charles.”

“Terribly generic name.” Eden snickered playfully.

“Very unoriginal.” Garrus chimed in with a grin.

Finnrick pressed on, completely ignoring their banter “I want something but I don’t know how to get it. I don’t even know if it’s possible. I have no magical experience.”

Eden raised her hand to interrupt “What about the son?”

“Factor him out. The father would be in a better position to do these things anyway. So I want something. Something bad given the dark nature of the spells I will use. What do I do?”

Garrus snapped his finger as the answer comes to him “You find a way to get the information.”

“Exactly! I can’t use normal means because M.R.R.D…”

“The best!” Eden motions to herself with a smirk. Garrus rolls his eyes though smiles warmly in her direction.

“...is going to keep tabs on everything.” Finnrick continues without missing a beat “So I need to get it from somewhere else. Something else. Somehow I figure a way to contact a powerful creature. I make a deal with it: The power to cast magic in exchange for something.”

Finnrick clicks his tongue “I finally get what I really want. The spell I was looking for. I need to get out of my deal with the patron….or maybe.” Finn suddenly snaps his finger “Maybe the spell is how I get out of the deal. A way to fulfill my part of the bargain I made but keep all my goodies I got.”

Garrus gave him confused stare “How do you figure that?”

“Anyone willing to make a deal with an unknown entity and use dark magic probably doesn’t have the best morals.” Finnrick gave a little shrug “just saying.”

“Fair. Go on.”

Finnrick glances at the board again “When I feel I’m ready I set out to perform the spell to get out of my deal. I start gathering the ingredients. When I get the last one, however, my patron wants to me to pay up, fulfill my side of the bargain. Maybe it notices what I’m doing, maybe it’s just impatient but the bill comes due sooner than I was expecting.”

Eden pursed her lips, trying to find Finn’s reasoning “What makes you say that?”

“Because.” Finnrick taps the broken spell circle card, unable to contain his excitement “My spell is rushed. It isn’t ready. Something messes it up. It backfires horribly and worst still my patron is somehow here. It found me. I have to run for it.”

“But my mishap will lead the M.R.R.D to my apartment.” Garrus fills in the blank.

Eden jumps to her feet, brimming with excitement “I have go into hiding. Hunted by two parties.”

Finnrick stares at the word ash “I still need to complete the spell to get out of the deal. M.R.R.D is bad news for me but at least they won’t kill me. Most of the materials are probably easy enough to get but the most important one only comes from one place.”

Garrus stands and begins pacing back and forth lost in thought “Luckily my werewolf dealer told me where he found it cuz he’s young and eager. High off the full moon enough to get cocky. He lets it slip where he found it. So I’ll just hide where the last ingredient is to be safe. No one else knows where it is anyway.”

“But I don’t realize if my werewolf dealer told me.” realization dawning upon the detective “he’ll tell anyone. Like a creepy old man waiting outside the alleyway.”

“That’s why he jumped you!” Eden slammed her fist on the desk in victory. And promptly winced as she tried to shake off the pain from her hand.

Finnrick shakes his head gently “No. Not him. It. The patron. It….it’s old. And it already knows. The cub probably blabbed or maybe it has a way to listen in even through walls. It jumps me because it knows I’m on the case. I’m asking questions. Worst I’m getting close. So it tries to get rid of me. It won’t be cheated again.”

A thick heavy tension falls over the trio. No one wants to say what they’re all thinking but Eden knows it’s better to deal with it sooner than later “...was the man another victim? A helpless pawn in the game?”

Finnrick remains quiet, unsure what to say.

“So.” Garrus clears his throat “Why the full moon?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Finnrick explains after a moment “It’s just universal randomness. I’m willing to bet he’s exhausted. He’s not used to magic and he didn’t develop the magical muscle you need for higher powered spells. Let me guess you got the call in the morning right? I bet someone heard something around 2 in the morning.

Eden nodded in confirmation.

Finnrick beamed with pride “He’s tired. He needs rest and with the full moon it’ll be easy to know when he can try to again. He just has to wait for it to be at the highest point in the sky and he’ll know it’s midnight. Plus every day his patron is here is a chance our reality ejects it out. Of course he doesn’t know it’s ancient. It probably could stay here for years without worrying about being banished naturally.”

“So we’re missing the where.”

As if waiting for a cue, Finnrick’s cellphone rang loudly, playing a cheery song from his favorite cartoon. Finnrick reaches for his coat pocket only to realize he isn’t wearing it. Sheepishly he reaches for his phone and answers.

“Drift speaking.”

“Heeeey Mister Drift.” It was Theo’s voice that answered though instead of the false swagger he usually presented, his tone was sullen and apologetic “So you know I have a strict no refund policy right?”

“Stop peering around the bush. Give it to me straight Brewmaster.”

Theo let out a heavy sigh “It’s dirt. Plain old dirt Mister Drift. It’s old, over 200 years give or take but just dirt. Mister Drift I’m sorry, I….”

Dirt…

Theo began launching into a spiel about how he tried his best but every test was telling him the same thing over and over but Finnrick had long since tuned out.

Dirt. Old, older than the city itself. Only a few places were left untouched by urban development.

“Theo.”

“And you know I take a real pride in my work and I hate giving out bad news but you know, if think you about it…”

“Theo.”

“…It’s not really my fault. You gave me dirt, it’s dirt! And the way you were telling me it was from a crime scene and…”

“Brewmaster.” Finn added some steel to his passive tone.

Theo fell silent at once.

“Thank you. You earned your pay and yes it was helpful.”

“R-Really?” Theo scoffed, slipping the mask of infallibility back on “Well naturally. You paid for the best so you get the best. So. We are squared right?”

“Naturally Brewmaster. Take care.”

“Cool” Theo awkwardly answered “Cool. Cool. Umm….bye.”

Before Garrus and Eden could ask, the phone rang once more a moment later. Finnrick answered without glancing downwards.

“Quinn.”

“Drif...Finnrick.”

“Whatcha got for me?”

Finnrick could hear the shuffling papers in the background “Cub picked up some graveyard dirt. Some of the others heard him boasting about it the other night. He isn’t telling which one though. Not much of a clue I’m afraid.”

“Actually.” Finnrick’s face broken into a grin “It’s exactly what I need. Thanks Quinn!”

Finnrick could practically hear the lost expression on the old wolf’s face “I...well….alright then. Should I stop interrogating him?”

“Absolutely. You can switch over to teaching him a lesson.”

“I….alright. Take care. Drift.”

“Dai.”

The phone had barely left the detective’s ear before Eden’s question exploded out of her.

“Well!?”

Finnrick let out a sigh of relief “I know where it is.”

Garrus and Eden shared a smirk.

“It’s graveyard dirt.” Finnrick explained as he scrawled a new note and pinned it onto the board.

Garrus frowned unhappily “Wait, graveyard dirt? That shouldn’t be possible. All the graveyards in town are consecrated. Even magic from darker, evil gods is considered divine. It would completely disable any necromantic magic.”

Eden scoffed, unimpressed “Please. Obviously you can just take it out of the graveyard and it would lose its holy...ness.”

“And how would you know?” Garrus leaned in inches away from his partner’s face.“Because I’m a cleric. That’s clearly how it works. Right Finn?”

Finnrick raised his hands when Eden gestured at him to take her side. Her face scrunched up in disappointment.

“Et tu my son?!”

“Well….” Finnrick tried to stifle his laughter “No. That’s not how it works. It still retains some of its divinity even if it’s removed from the source. You would have to basically corrupt it to turn it back to normal dirt. You know you still have to study magic ma even if you have a god handing it out to you.”

“So he could’ve done that.” Eden insisted, ignoring the last bit.

“That doesn’t seem very efficient.” Garrus countered logically.

“You don’t seem efficient!”

“You’re still mad about the sandwich.”

“It was my sandwich! I LABELED IT WITH MY NAME!!”

“Do not touch is not your name.”

“Guys!” Finnrick jumped in between, separating the bickering partners with a wave of his hand “Occam’s Razor.”

Eden raised an eyebrow “Occam’s what?” while Garrus scratched his clean shaven face, muttering under his breath “I don’t even own a razor.”

Finnrick gestured to the board “It means the simplest solution is often the correct one. Unconsecrated graveyard dirt.”

Eden and Garrus turned to the other in hopes they had an answer. They ended up staring blankly at one another for a few seconds.

“You’re right da. Every graveyard in Newton Haven is consecrated by some sort of divinity.”

Garrus beamed with pride.

“But.” Finnrick continued with a theatrical wave of his hand “There is one graveyard that is unconsecrated. Outside of town.”

The detective paused for dramatic effect as the partners slowly realized what he was implying.

“Gallow Hills.” Garrus replied, his silver eyes wide with awe “It’s out in Litwick forest.”

“Exactly!” Finnrick let the tension wash out of him.

“Well.” Eden cracked her knuckles threateningly “Wait are we waiting for?”

Finnrick rose a hand “Whoa, slow your horses ma. You know the rules.”

“Well yeah but the rules won’t know if I break them. I’m not going to tell them and Garbear over here isn’t a snitch.”

"Nope.” Garrus grunted as he reached for his rifle laying across his desk.

“Sorry I can’t let you do that. We’re already pushing it as it is. My case and you two handed it off to me.”

The partners exchanged a concern look.

Finnrick reached for his coat, slipping it on with a dramatic flourish “I’m not going alone. I’ll bring Case and Jai with me.”

The two weren’t satisfied with that response but little could be done about it.

“Be careful” Eden pinched his cheek playfully “I will kill you if something else does.”

“Do you need anything before you go champ?” Garrus clasped his shoulder gently.

Finnrink thought about it for a moment.

“Actually yes. Do you have a file on Richard Jr?”

“I complied everything we had. It isn’t a lot. There wasn’t even a photo.”

Finnrick motioned for the elf to lead on though little did the officer know he had solved the final mystery eluding the wizard detective.

Everything was in motion and tomorrow everything would come to a head. It was going to be a really long fucking day.

Fuuuuuuuuuun.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.  

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could  meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies –  and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.  

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Midnight Magic

A/N: Wrote a smutty part 2 to accompany you lovely folks! 🥰🥰

MASTERLIST

Henry Cavill x Reader

Also, if I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 1855k 

Warnings: MUCH PROMISED FLUFF, dirty talk, implied smut, foreplay, kissing, language, teasing

***********************************************

Y/N wasn’t someone to demand attention but tonight was a different story entirely. Whether it be the holiday magic in the air or the sheer happiness exuding from her beaming smile, they’d never know for sure.  She glazed into the fireplace awaiting the arrival of her midnight kiss to show up. The embers flickered uncontrollably creating a spellbinding illusion of comfort. The cerulean blue hue of her dress was majestically magnificent, custom designed to perfection leaving little to the imagination. Paired with a sexy high slit revealed the majority of her right leg; just enough access.

This New Year’s Eve Henry had the peculiar notion to get dressed up as if they were enjoying the evening out. Y/N almost died of happiness then and there seeing the childish reflection in her husband’s hypnotic orbs. 2020 was one helluva year and though it brought them closer than ever as a couple, Y/N wasn’t blind to the hardships occurring throughout the world.  

His loins stirred excitedly as lust glazed over his features growing semi-hard. The only barrier holding them from going at it like teenagers. He licked his lips in anticipation eager to have his wife all to himself. No lavish parties or parades of people to entertain this year, just the lot of them, alone and horny. He continued admiring her from afar pouring two flutes of champagne for the pair.

“You look positively scrumptious this evening, Mrs. Cavill.”

Henry silently crept from behind sneaking up unsuspectingly slow. Goosebumps riddled her gorgeous skin rippling in masses. His breath ticked the tiny, delicate hair adorning her neck shooting a pleasurable surge to her limbs. Both endlessly love drunk on one another. His sensational touch alone kicked every sense into overdrive, heightened every emotion he emitted. Y/N reached back entangling her fingers with his newly deemed ‘quarantine curls’ she’d loved to tug on. Small bites traced down her neck leaving small marks in his wake of destruction.

“May I add how delectable you are in a tuxedo, Hen? My god, my poor ovaries must be working overtime.”

A salacious smirk broke out on his lips eyeing her lustfully.

“You haven’t the finest clue what I want to do to you right now, my love.”

Her hips grinded back on their on accord knocking the air from his lungs. All his remaining blood rushed to the tip of his cock as his belly stirred in playful chaos. They swayed back and forth to the melody playing in the background both reflecting on their last year together.

Henry lined himself up with the shell of her ear wrapping his bulky arm firmly around her waist drawing her as close as possible.

“I’m truly astounded this is our 12th year celebrating as a couple.”

Y/N smiled thinking back when they first met. The year was 2008, Henry was a newly promoted regular to a Showtime series called The Tudors. Y/N was a brilliant writer, the brains behind the complex operation. Henry considered her the beauty and brains; Y/N hated when he talked down about himself saying she’d never once doubted the man who became a wonderful husband and even better daddy.

One unparticular day he’d spotted her struggling to balance a pretty hefty pile of scripts and tumbled right into him. Luckily, his super-size and strength kicked in just in time catching the eye of the attractive stranger. In that moment, Henry knew there was something about this woman he craved to figure out. He was just the lucky bastard on the reciprocating end.

“And thank god your parents volunteered to take the kiddos for the evening. Some private adult time is just what the doctor ordered. We owe them BIG time.”

Y/N winked leading him to decipher the meaning behind her blanket statements. She stepped from his grasp breaking his hold on her. He whined at the loss causing Y/N to eye him curiously.

Oh, you little tease.

Henry’s frisky nature broke through lighting the atmosphere around them. Due to the ongoing pandemic and what not, Henry and Y/N found themselves in wintry London at their main hub of a home. Henry’s roots were deep-rooted and his plea so passionate as she agreed to move across the world with him. Their lives halted for the better allowing the family to spend more time than usual as a unit. Though initially hectic and overwhelming, they were secretly thankful for these little moments with their four children. It was a time they so dearly valued at their imaginative ages.

“Oh, I bet my pops could sense the sexual tension oozing off you, darling. You smell mouthwatering.”

“Hush! Besides it is completely natural to pursue a sexual relationship with my husband outside of our children. Gotta keep you coming back for more…”

“Oh sweets, you have no earthly idea how bad I want to fuck you every day of my existence. You are absolutely divine and somehow all mine.”

“I can’t take all the credit. Nobody’s ever made me cum the way you managed to figure out. You play me like a damn instrument.”

“With pleasure.”

“Ugh, you’re insatiable.”

“Oh, come on. Your sex drive is just as insane as mine. Admit it!”

Y/N bit the inside of her lip collecting her thoughts. Henry pried and teased her ribs forcing her to his whims.

“Fine, fine, you win! I’m a ravenous feign when it comes to you. You’d think having kids would cool my jets but then I see these gorgeous faces I birthed and it’s like I reset. Poof, just like that.”

“Well you’re a phenomenal Mum and quite the MILF too.”

Henry inhaled her perfumed scent taking a long sip of bubbly; anything to keep him from combusting.

“Let’s toast, love. We must.”

“My my, how time flies when you’re having fun.”

Her manicured fingers reached for the chilled glass looking up at Henry and his three-month-old beard. She rose her glass slightly higher in preparation for his speech. Her eyes gleamed with pride as she admired her husband.

“Thank you for loving me, Henry. Seriously, you changed my life in so many profound ways.”

The sap in him was beginning to show as his eyes watered with unshed tears; “My love, it is I who should be thanking for you the unending shower of love and affection. You are the beautiful mother of our four wonderous kids who are the absolute lights of my life because of you. You’re a woman worthy of many praises than my silly ramblings. Cheers to you and for another adventure of a year!”

She swatted his chest immediately shutting him up; “Don’t say that! I am just as equally lucky to have found someone who gets me for …me. It’s a wonderful feeling to have you by my side even if I did have to kiss a few frogs.”

“No doubt I the best possible selection.”

Y/N played along jesting back; “I wouldn’t go that far, maybe the easiest?”

Gob smacked Henry’s wit was rapid fire; “If memory serves, you were there too. And just as ravenous.”

“I was about to get nailed by an insanely hot British man. Can you blame me?”

“One look from you and I was a bloody puddle. I had to recite rugby players to keep from losing my shit.”

No matter life’s challenges the past years of their lives, their resolution to stay equals and lovers was stronger than ever. A sinful glow overcame Y/N as she stared directly up at him; “Cheers to you fucking me stupid then?”

“As you wish.”

She refused to glance away maintaining his smoldering gaze; her Y/C eyes screamed sex. His pupils dilated just as his heart speed up voraciously. Both subconsciously tilted their heads oppositely neither daring to move first, unwilling to yield. Y/N challenged his masculinity testing him. Many words could be used to describe Y/N but priss wasn’t one of them.  

“Oi, you are a true keeper.”  

Y/N checked the matching wrist watch completing her outfit; “T-minus 15 seconds until 2021 is here.”

Still unbreaking of her gaze, Henry stayed silent taking in the beauty of his wife. He could stare at her for the rest of his god given days and die a spectacularly happy man.

10,9,8

“Oh Hen, another marvelous journey with you. Can’t wait to see what 2021 has in store for us.”

7,6

She stared down at his inviting pout unable to look away nor did she truly want to.

“Maybe thinking about another baby?”

Her eyes bulged from her skull as shock illuminated from her pores.

“You’re joshing me?”

His lack of response was more than confirmation enough.

5,4

“There’s something so ridiculously sexy about you being pregnant. I always knew I wanted kids but with you, oh with you I want to have as many as humanly possible. Our very own football team.”

Confusion stamped her features at his terminology. Sometimes Henry forgot they were from different countries.

“Football as in soccer. You know the game with the checkered ba—”

Y/N cut him off; “Jeez baby, save your mansplaining. I’ve been on this side of the pond long enough to understand your oh so clever references.”

3,2

The pros and cons bounced around in her head, doubt never far behind but the mischievous joy coming off him was tantalizing; “Let’s do it.”

2,1

Cheers rang ecstatically from the television as fireworks commanded their attention but they only had eyes for one another. Henry closed the gap kissing her feverishly. He was forever seared into her brain ruined for all other men. Lost in the moment, Y/N barely had time to set her glass down untrusting of her own balance anymore. Henry followed shortly behind. Now with her newfound freedom, Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck locking him in place. His questioning tone was almost cause for concern before his façade shattered.

“Really? I do so enjoy seeing you round with my babe. So, fucking irresistible.”

Henry’s jacket was long removed strewn over the couch. That left him standing only in his tight button up and trousers. Y/N merely leaned back his direction bringing his attention towards the zipper aligning her spine. Henry chuckled undoing her dress too easily watching the zipper flair apart. He couldn’t resist admiring the flex of her muscles and how striking she was. Tugging the material over the curvy hips, Y/N noticed Henry was far too overdressed.

“Take off your clothes, now.”

“You bossin me round, babe?”

His muscular tush ignited in minimal pain as her hand connected with his ass whipping rather harshly. A small red welt appeared instantly. Henry stood shocked as Y/N’s smug smile decorated her face.

“You really shouldn’t push me. I don’t like my authority questioned.”

Henry’s mood shifted at her use of roleplay knowing he was in for a well and good night. Henry stripped removing his boxer briefs last. Y/N strutted towards her bedside dresser pulling out a pair of metal handcuffs. Dangling them in front of him, she grinned bashfully; “You’re going to sit your ass on that bed and I’m going to tie you up now. Got it?”

~~~~~~~~~

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