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#i'm excited for bit city because it's a fun show
hecoxthirst · 27 days
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we as a society are not talking enough about ian saying that one of the next bit city episodes has “something with anthony and i” and he like started giggling before he could actually say that but like we all know about his and anthony’s bit that looks like they’re younger selves because it was in the trailer so i feel like there’s something more to it and i can’t stop thinking about it.
bro... bro........ you're so correct. i swear so many things they do feels like a soft launch but at this point i'm inclined to believe they'll go the dan and phil route of never actually ~hard launching~ and just leaving it vague, implying, refusing to outright deny, without ever actually saying it. i SWEAR there's something going on, i'm not insane. you are not insane. we are not insane. hold my hand anon
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pnghoon · 3 months
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a superhero's sweet reward
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SIM JAEYUN [제이크] ── 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓
୨୧ pairing : !nonidol spidey!ikeu x fem gf!reader ꒰wc : 1.2k꒱
୨୧ genre + content warnings : fluff, humor, skinship, est. relationship, mentions of injuries, kissing, jake's a little goofster, not proofread
୨୧ synopsis : in which spidey!ikeu appears in your room late at night all bruised and hurt, and you help clean him up.
writer's note ─ yall..i'm gonna be completely honest with you..I did not expect all thatt on one of my first ever fics. like I was completely mind blown coming back from work and seeing that it got like 130+ notes. JAW DROPPED. anyways because of all the love on my hoon short story I wanted to spoil yall and give you a spider-verse jaeyun story ;)) this was heavily inspired by spidey-boy by @luvvsim !! I absolutely loveee there work. (like sm.) if you enjoyed reading this, please be sure to like & reblog !! ♡
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the night in new york city hummed with its usual buzz, but inside your room, there was a sense of peacefulness. despite living in the city that never sleeps, you felt content. lying on your bed, earbuds snugly fit into your ears, lost in the beats of your favorite song—it was the perfect end to your busy nights. little did you know, the real excitement was about to swoop in through your window.
suddenly, as if on cue, a shadow dashed across the room. startled, you pulled out an earbud just as a familiar figure swung in through the window, landing into your comfortable sanctuary with a soft thud. there he was—jake sim: new york's very own spiderman and the graceful title of your boyfriend. you watched as he stood there in all his superhero glory, steadying himself on his feet after a slightly harsh landing.
“hey, cutie. miss me?” he spoke out, wincing a little as he removed his mask, revealing a boyish grin and tousled blonde hair. his face bore a few new bruises, and his suit had seen better days.
“jake, the door is literally unlocked,” you called out, sitting up on your bed as you discarded your earbuds.
“where's the fun in that?” came the muffled reply from your boyfriend as he steadied himself, his suit sporting a few new rips and his face a canvas of small cuts and bruises.
you frowned, scanning the variety of bruises and cuts that painted his face and toned body, gently guiding him to sit on the edge of your bed. “you're hurt.”
“it's just a scratch,” he reassured, trying to sound nonchalant but wincing again as he moved. “besides, i get to see my favorite nurse now.”
you rolled your eyes, fetching the first aid kit from your bathroom cabinet. “very funny, spiderman. now sit still.”
jake obeyed, squirming slightly as he took a seat on your bed and shrugged off his suit. you took in the sight of his bruises and cuts, a mixture of concern filling you. he was always so brave and generous. but right now, he was just your jake, and you were going to make sure he was okay.
“hold still,” you instructed, gently dabbing at a cut on his cheek with antiseptic. he flinched a bit, but his eyes sparkled with mischief.
“ow! are you trying to finish me off, babe?” he joked, his lips quirking up in a grin as he put on an exaggerated show for you.
you rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “oh, hush. maybe if you'd stop getting into trouble, i wouldn't have to play nurse.”
“but..who would keep you company during your lonely nights?” he retorted rather innocently, though his playful grin spoke otherwise.
you smiled, shaking your head. “you know, most boyfriends just text or call. you on the other hand have to swing in through windows.”
he shrugged. “what can i say? i like to make an entrance.”
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as you continued to clean and bandage his wounds, a comfortable silence enveloped your new york apartment. the soft hum of the wind, the muffled sound of your music still playing from your phone. it painted an almost soothing picture. well, besides the bruised up and hurt superhero on your bed. you continued to assist his cuts, watching his face contort into a sour look before he quickly recovered.
“so, what exactly did you do today that got you looking like you went ten rounds with a bulldozer?” you question, your brow raising in curiosity.
jake smiled at your light-hearted joke, clearing his throat before speaking again. “just another day in the life, y’know? i saved a kitten from a tree, stopped a bank robbery, and had a very intense conversation with a pigeon. fascinating stuff.”
you snorted, grabbing the box of bandages from your nightstand. “sounds like a regular tuesday.”
“exactly,” he agreed, leaning in as you dabbed at a cut on his forehead, the white cotton ball tinting a shade of red. “that pigeon was surprisingly chatty.”
you shook your head, trying to suppress a laugh as you focused on cleaning his wounds. jake's eyes followed your every move, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“y’know,” he started off. “i think that pigeon had some good advice. he told me i should kiss my girlfriend more often.”
his comment only earned a snicker from you, the cotton ball moving to clean off a particularly nasty cut on his face, watching him wince at the sudden contact.
“ow, ow! careful, doc, i’m delicate!”
“delicate, my foot,” you teased, giving him a mock glare. “you swing from skyscrapers and fight bad guys, but a little antiseptic is too much for ya?”
he laughed, the sound a comforting balm against the night’s weariness. “hey, i have my limits, okay?”
“do you now?” you retorted, your smile growing at his light-hearted banter. another comfortable silence fell once more before you broke it with another question.
“and what other brilliant advice did this know it all pigeon give you, other than kissing his girlfriend more often?”
jake grinned as you brought the topic back up, clearing his throat like he was about to make the most moving declaration. “he said i should cherish every moment, because you never know when your next battle with a supervillain might be.”
“wise pigeon,” you commented, reaching for a bandage. “you're lucky i’m such a good nurse.”
“luckiest guy in the world,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling. “and not just because of your nursing skills.”
“flattery will get you nowhere, sim,” you retorted, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “but it might earn you a kiss once i’m done.���
jake’s face lit up. “in that case, i think i might have another cut you missed."
you look at jake dumbfounded, pausing your movements entirely as you slowly brought your gaze back towards his face, your expression etched with concern. your worriment soon dissipated into thin air as you watched him point to his lips, leaning closer to you.
“right here.”
you rolled your eyes but reluctantly leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. he sighed contentedly with a smile, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer as he relished in the feeling of your plush lips on his very own.
“much better,” he murmured against your lips, pulling away with a lopsided grin.
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finishing up the last of his cuts, you leaned back to admire your handiwork. “there. good as new.”
jake flexed his arm, yawning softly before giving you an approving nod. “you’re the best, you know that?”
“of course i do, someone’s gotta keep you in one piece, right?” you said with a grin, playfully nudging him. “now, are you staying for a while, or do you have to rush off and save more damsels in distress?”
he pretended to ponder your question for a moment before suddenly pulling you into his arms. “i think i’ve done enough saving for one night. besides, this damsel is my favorite.”
you rolled your eyes again but couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across your face. “smooth, spidey. real smooth.”
jake’s laughter was contagious, and soon enough you both found yourselves lying on the bed, tangled up in each other arms. the city outside your window buzzed with its usual chaos, but in that moment, all that mattered was the comfort of each other’s company.
“stay with me tonight?” you asked softly, resting your head on his chest.
jake kissed the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “always.” he murmured, and you knew he meant it.
(why am I giggling and smiling so hard rn...)
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𝓢igning off... @penghoon
── 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [OPEN 🗯] @onlyhees @amouriu @greentulip @enhluv1 @samiikeu @hoonwhile @dearrwoni
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temptress-writes · 1 year
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📺 Sugar
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A/N: Welcome to The Tonight Show with Harry Styles. The year is 1964, and you are his assistant. He's a bit of a shit. So this is a fun one.
C.W: sexual content: kinda rough— choking, spanking, degradation, slapping, spitting, squirting.
18+ ONLY.
***
New York City, 1964.
"Red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather."
The bright lights heated him even from behind the curtain. A warmth that coasted alongside his adrenaline. He struggled to keep his body cool underneath his designer sweater, felt his feet tapping restlessly in his leather oxfords.
This was his favourite part.
The cheers, the introduction, the attention.
You ran the lint roller over his shoulders as he sipped steaming tea from a paper cup. You made sure the collar of his plaid shirt was straight as it peeked out from his red sweater.
Another sip of steaming tea, another tongue twister.
"She sells..." You coached.
He took in a deep breath, watching you as you made sure he appeared perfect, rearranging the groomed curls on his head. Your green dress stood brightly against the black of the stage, the white cuffs of it framing your wrists as you fussed over his hair.
"She sells seashells by the seashore."
"One minute till curtain!" The stage manager yelled as he breezed by. "How're you feeling, Mr. Styles?"
"Like a million bucks, Sal!"
"That's the spirit!" Sal chuckled, running towards the side of the stage, probably chasing after an intern who wasn't doing their job properly.
"Remember, you're meeting your parents for dinner after this." You reminded, ticking off the mental to-do list that was really his. It was clogging your mind but after all, it was your job.
"I haven't forgotten." He rolled his eyes. Yes, you were his assistant, but he found you controlling at times and he had little patience for women who tried to control him. He preferred to be the one in charge.
"But you'll still find a way to be late, anyway." You stepped back with a huff. He really did make your job a living hell.
"I'm taking a refreshment in my dressing room after the show."
You scrunched up your face in disgust. Refreshment. You hated that you knew it was code for a visit from a desperate groupie. You remember when he told you how he chose which girl he liked the best. You'd been watching the audience file in and he appeared behind you, chewing gum with a confident pop of his jaw.
"Let me scope it out."
"Why?"
"Like to see who's gonna join me for a post-show soirée. See those girls?" He pointed to a group of overdressed girls, all giggling and excited for the show to start. "Bingo."
"How do you know which one to pick?"
He shot you a look, clicking his tongue. "The tits, sugar. I always pick the girl with the biggest tits."
"Ugh." You rolled your eyes. "You're disgusting."
"I'm just messin'," He tilted his head. "I'm an ass man, too."
You shuddered at the recollection.
"Yes, Mr. Styles." Your voice was laced with a seething sarcasm that he raised a brow at.
He didn't seem to conceptualise that you talked that way because that's how he talked to you. He couldn't see past his blinding, misogynistic ego.
You were purely volleying it right back at him. In hindsight, it wasn't the smartest move because you really needed this job and he had a tendency to fire staff with a snap of his jeweled fingers. He'd made the past six months hard on you and he really made your blood boil.
Who knew becoming Harry Styles' assistant would be akin to babysitting a grumpy toddler?
The Tonight Show with Harry Styles.
Hilarious with guests, a major flirt, and entertaining — even when reading out news segments.
He was well-loved by everyone. For his fun fashion statements, for his guests, his charm, his whole fantasy world on his show. Worldwide, he was adored as the most entertaining and handsome talk show host.
But you knew what happened behind the scenes.
Poised and perfect on camera, but as soon as the director called cut, you had trouble convincing yourself it wasn't a joke. People of the television world had a different sort of ego and you struggled to breathe among it all. Harry hated mingling with guests before and after the show more than he had to, he hated when the crew bothered him, he hated being approached by fans for autographs because he had a headache — or whatever excuse he was offering that day.
Don't get it twisted — he loved the attention he got from being so famous. You were surprised his head wasn't bigger. The one thing he loved most about being so popular was the fact that he could have anyone on his knees for him, be between their legs, and have them at their disposal. And he treated them like that was their only use.
The charming and cheerful Harry Styles.
Purely a falsity of a man.
The crew fled from the stage as the band started playing the introduction theme music and you swept the cup from his hand. You replaced it with two certs breath mints that he chewed on routinely.
"Wish me good luck." He demanded as you gave him a once over.
You beamed. "Break a leg."
"Thanks, sugar."
"No, like trip and fall."
His smile dropped into an unamused glare. "Oh, bite me."
The music ensued, getting louder with an abundant cheer from the live crowd, the curtain preparing to lift to reveal him. You rushed off stage, your Mary Janes clicking on the floor before nodding to Sal who gave you two thumbs up.
"Filmed before a live studio audience..."
"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."
Harry took a deep breath, already bathing in the adoration he garnered from simply existing.
"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."
You rolled your eyes as he mouthed along with the words as they were spoken.
"...Mr. Harry Styles!"
The curtain parted and he stepped forward, his hands waving to the crowd before clasping them together as he took a small bow. He blew kisses, thanking them for coming and welcoming them. He egged on the drummer of the band while the crowd cheered for him.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"
More cheers that he absolutely cherished and bathed in, letting them fuel his ego.
"We've got a great show for you tonight, we have special guests The Everly Brothers joining us!"
Your job while Harry was doing his magic spiel on stage was to check in with him during commercial breaks, smooth his hair, offer him mints, refill his water. Also to make sure everything was perfect for him when he wrapped up. He was extremely demanding, and while you were warned of that when you first took the job, you were still so surprised just how needy he was.
He liked ham and tomato sandwiches exactly fifteen minutes before he was put into his hair and makeup chair. He liked a cup of hot tea right before air time, alongside a few tongue twisters. He went through packets of Certs breath mints faster than you thought humanly possible. He also wanted a cup of black coffee waiting for him directly after he got off stage.
He didn't like to talk to anyone on his way to his dressing room unless it was Sal congratulating him and inflaming his already huge ego. Or security telling him about a waiting groupie in his dressing room. Or you, running over his schedule or helping him memorise his script. Well, he didn't like talking to you. He more or less answered in grunts or irritated comments.
As Harry settled in for his show post the joke segment, you ran around backstage. Ordering his coffee and one for yourself because you couldn't keep up with his demands without your own shot of caffeine. You were due within minutes to refresh him during the breed.
It really was an exciting job, aside from being a woman in a man's world. You were treated as such but you were lucky enough to be given the job in the first place. At first, you were nervous around Harry. It took him a second to warm up to you.
The first time you met was when he found you in his dressing room before a show, bent over the vanity as you watered his flowers. He thought you were there for a completely different reason and had quickly started to unbuckle his belt.
"Alright, let's make this quick."
You then spotted him in the mirror and turned with a gasp. "What are you-"
And before it could have got any more awkward, before Harry could even fully unbuckle his belt, Sal stormed in with a shocked laugh.
"Oh!" His amused gaze flickered between the two of you. "Harry, I see you've met your new assistant."
"I don't need an assistant, Sal. We've been through this. Why do you think I got rid of the last one?"
"Well, of course, you do! She's just here to help you perform at your best, Styles. Try not to scare this one off."
And while he'd probably never admit it to you, you actually were very helpful to have around. Once you'd stopped being so awkward and nervous and jittery around him, you found a dynamic that worked. One where he could be a condescending male and you could be just as snappy right back to him.
Past assistants had stuck to him like a bad smell and only irritated him. You did what was expected of you. Nothing more, nothing less. You kept your little purse stocked with certs breath mints, lint rollers and kept that fact that he fucked fans in his dressing rooms after and sometimes before shows quiet.
But after all, everyone was well aware. They even congratulated him on his sexual success. Nothing grossed you out more.
Aside from Harry being a mildly misogynistic, cocky, well-dressed thorn in your side, you loved your job. You met exciting guests whom you only dreamed of meeting. Stars you had posters of in your apartment, musicians whose vinyls you span on your turntable.
In your first week on the job, you met Santo and Johnny. They'd just finished a performance of Sugar Song and they flirted with you until you were a blushing mess.
Harry had watched the interaction, grumbling about professionalism and waiting for them to leave so he could torment you about it.
"Got the hots do ya, little sugar?"
"Kiss off, Styles."
That was the most colourful thing you'd ever said to him. The shock of it raised his brows and sent a singeing pang of arousal directly to his crotch.
There was a part of Harry that wanted to hate you. Because you were a woman bossing him around and because you got on his nerves. But the more rational part of him knew he could never hate you. You were too helpful and he'd be lying if he said you weren't one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. And he'd seen a lot of girls.
But he knew you were disgusted by his habits, how he slept with so many people. In his own sick way, he used it to his advantage, to keep you at arm's length. That and endless comments he knew would rile you up. And boy, did he rile you up. He'd finessed the art of it.
The show ran smoothly tonight, but by no means were you any less busy. You raced around with your clipboard tucked under your arm and two cups of coffee in either hand. You sipped on yours, grateful for the kick it gave. Harry was saying his goodnight to the crowd, his cup steaming in your left hand as you rushed to meet him.
"Thank you for spending the night with me, New York!"
His classic closing catchphrase. Cheeky and risky, but it was him and he got away with everything.
Thunderous applause overpowered the sound of your heels clicking as you turned a corner, beelining towards the stage exit. You were late. He'd be off stage by now, demanding things and barking orders like the diva he was.
As if you weren't going to hear an earful from him as it was, an intern bumped into you. The crash caused your two cups of coffee to spill all down the front of your dress. You barely noticed the burn.
"Seriously?" You seethed, holding your now empty cups out in exasperation.
"I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching-"
"You don't say."
You could hear Harry asking where you were and you groaned, absolutely vexed. You turned in the exact opposite direction of him and back to grab more coffee. You knew he'd especially need it tonight if he was meeting with his parents.
"What happened to you?" Sal guffawed and you rolled your eyes.
"If you see Harry, tell him that his coffee is coming."
"Bit hard getting it to him when you're wearing it."
"Not funny."
A few minutes later, you held a single coffee cup. Steaming, black. You wrapped both your hands around it, holding it steady and keeping far away from anyone who could bump you. Your dress had seen better days and the stain was obvious and uncomfortably wet.
You found your way back to his dressing room, where he'd no doubt holed himself up in to freshen up. You knocked, hoping he was alone and waiting for you before continuing on with his post-show... rituals.
"Come in!" You heard from the other side and you slipped inside quickly.
"So sorry, Mr. Styles, I had an accid- oh, my god!"
You took in the scene before you. Harry. With a girl on his knees in front of him. His jeweled fingers clenching a fistful of the girl's hair as she sucked him off. His brows were turned down in the middle but his eyes... his eyes were on you. And he was enjoying it. Enjoying the girl, and enjoying you watching.
"Alright, sugar?"
"I-" You didn't know what to say, and the girl didn't stop. You didn't know if that was her doing or if Harry was holding her down. You turned, and idiotically turned back around, taking the few steps towards him, and handed him his cup of coffee. You didn't meet his eyes, like a bumbling idiot.
You left the room, but not before hearing Harry take a hefty sip of his coffee and letting out a soft moan, "Oh, that's so good."
Vexed by his antics, and the fact that he made it his mission to throw you off like that, you signed out and went home. It was as vulnerable as you'd ever seen him and you felt an odd sense of jealously wash over you. Maybe you were jealous of past you, because she hadn't witnessed it. Or maybe there was a bit of jealousy there because you wanted to be the one on your knees for him.
As delightful as the thought was for a margin of a second, you felt ill knowing you'd be another Harry Styles groupie. And it would make your job more difficult which you didn't think was even possible.
But you couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. His blissful expression, the way he directed it at you as opposed to the mouth wrapped around him. He had told you to enter his dressing room so that you could see it.
The next night, you planned on fully avoiding him and pretending the whole thing never happened. Which was hard considering, you know, you were to follow him around and listen to his demands. And especially hard because you just wished he'd command you onto your knees already.
Sure, you found him extremely attractive — everyone did. You may have even had a little crush when you first met him. But then you got to know him, and his habits and his ways. Last night grossed you out just as much as it turned you on. You felt so thrown off and now you weren't sure how to act around him.
You arrived at the studio not too long before showtime, Harry's cup of tea in hand. You were a little bit late today but you figured he could survive fifteen minutes without you. He was in hair and wardrobe, getting his curls perfected and his forehead powered.
He sat in the chair with his legs spread, a pair of black dress pants and a white singlet, his inked arms on display. You focused on staying professional and met his eyes for a brief moment as you greeted him and handed him his cup of tea. No milk, and don't be shy with the honey, he'd told you when you first started.
His eyes scanned your attire, a pink dress with long sleeves but a shorter hem than usual, he noticed. He didn't hate having to look at your legs, your plump thighs, and the intrigue of what was between them ran rampant in his thoughts.
You had a soft yellow ribbon in your hair, keeping it swept away from your face in a high ponytail. He clenched his jaw, wishing it was his hand fisting your hair. He'd tie your hands up with the ribbon so you'd have to behave for him.
"Thanks. Dig pink on ya." He took a sip, his eyes full with mischief as he watched you over the rim of his cup. "Enjoy the show last night?"
You knew he was referring to you seeing him get blown by some random groupie so you ignored him, looking at your clipboard. "So Sal wants to see you in five, and we're reconfiguring some set pieces before airtime. So be on stage straight after you've seen him, okay?"
The hairstylist finished up, and you were left alone with him in the room. You were a lot stiffer tonight, more reserved than usual and he picked up on it right away. You raised a brow, wondering if he'd heard a single word you said.
He smirked. "Why did you come in last night? You know I have post-show celebrations in my dressing room."
"I was bringing you coffee! You told me to come in!" This man was exasperating. He knew that he'd asked you for coffee and told you to enter his dressing room after you'd knocked. He wanted you to see and now he was just winding you up.
He raised a brow. "Did I?"
"Five minutes." You reaffirmed. You tried to hide the way that his tone crept down your spine in slow, hot trickles.
He sat up in the chair, his hand reaching to cup the back of your lower thigh. You stopped breathing at the sudden touch and he pulled you towards him. His gaze was searing on yours, his eyes wondering and daring.
"You wanted to stay, didn't you? Watch me get my dick sucked while I watched you."
"No, I didn't." You whispered, letting him pull you forward until you were standing between his spread legs.
"No?"
"No." Even you weren't convinced by your answer.
"Hmm... you wanted to be the one on your knees for me. Is that it?"
You took a deep, shaky breath. His question fired something off in your brain. A realisation perhaps. You did want to be on your knees for him, being the reason for his pleasure, be at his command, make him feel good, make him fucking fall apart because of you.
"So pretty in this tiny fuckin' dress." He cooed. His hand came up, cupping your cheek. Your eyeshadow was a pretty soft blue and he adored it. His fingers trailed down, tracing your lower lip. "You'd look so perfect with my cock in your mouth."
You couldn't even suppress the whimper that ensued. Did you thank him? Slap him? Get on your knees and prove his point?
He didn't seem fazed by the fact that you weren't saying much. You were responding to him in other ways. Leaning right into him with your eyes lulled, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. Your chest heaving beneath that fucking pink dress. You were driving him crazy with how badly he wanted you.
The night before had been his own sick little test. Either, you'd be game, or you'd pull away from him completely. Regardless, he'd know where you stood and accept all that accompanied him. He knew how fucked up it was but you really seemed to enjoy the game.
His other hand squeezed the back of your thigh, inching higher. "What colour are your panties?"
You gasped at the question, so turned on by him and how bold he was. It used to scare you, but now being on the receiving end was a completely different ballpark.
"Blue." You breathed out.
"What shade of blue?" He pressed on. "Like your eyeshadow?"
You twisted your lips in thought. "Do you want to see?"
Harry released a shocked laugh, but his mind was fucking reeling. Did you really just ask if he wanted to see your panties?
"A peek couldn't hurt."
He gripped your hips and lifted you up onto the vanity behind you. You were shocked that he could lift you so effortlessly and smoothly. You crossed your legs, more to tease him than anything else. Your expression was sultry, and he felt lightheaded at the sight of you. Slowly, you unfolded your legs but didn't open them.
"Don't be shy, sugar. Show me and I'll make it up to you."
You let out a slow exhale, mustering up all of your courage. You were shaking, but it wasn't nerves. He had you so worked up and he had barely done anything. He'd riled you up and talked to you, and you were already fucking saturated.
Your legs parted, feet resting on either side of his thighs on the chair. Harry's eyes stayed on yours, his hands reaching to slide up your thighs, pushing the hem of your pink press up so he could get a good view of you, finally looking down.
And what a fucking view it was. Your thighs were soft, and he let his hands squeeze at them. Sky blue lace covered the area he'd been dreaming about for six months. He let out a soft groan and let his fingertip brush over the skin where your abdomen met the panties.
"Lace? Did you wear these for me?"
"I had you in mind."
"Naughty girl." He smirked, shuffling forward. His thumb brushed over your clothed clit and you let out a whimper, biting your lip to quell anything louder than might to escape. "Can I taste you? Please? Been wantin' to for months."
You nodded, your mouth dry. You'd let this man do anything to you, and hearing him tell you he'd been wanting this for months left you in a frenzy.
"Words, sugar. Let's hear 'em."
"Please," You whispered. "taste me."
"Good girl, that's it." He pulled your panties to the side, desperate to see you and taste you. You were glistening, so wet and plump for him. He sighed, running his thumb along your clit before venturing between your folds to feel how wet you were. Your thighs jolted as he slipped his thumb to collect your excitement and spread it up to your clit.
"Why are you so wet, hm?" He wondered aloud, his eyes meeting yours again.
"Because of you, Harry."
"Me?" Cocky little shit.
"Mm."
"Are you always this wet for me, sugar?"
You hesitated, not sure if you wanted to give him this. He would never forget it, probably remind you that he knew every day. Probably slip his hand up your dress just to appease his own curiosity.
"Only when you're nice to me."
"But you like me mean, don't you?"
"You're an asshole."
"Gets you wet, though."
Abruptly, as if impatient, he lowered his head and attached his mouth to your clit. The scorching heat of it was intense, and you grabbed a fistful of his freshly tamed curls to hold him to you.
His tongue ran over your entirety. From your entrance right back up to your clit, tasting you fully as his mouth closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You threw your head back, rolling your cunt towards his face as he softly ate you with a passion that had you shaking.
Before anything more could occur, Sal knocked on the door, demanding that Harry meet with him. He knew better than to enter any room that was hidden behind a closed door when it came to Harry. But if he'd known it was you behind that door with him, that would be another issue entirely.
You shot up, pushing him out of the way and righting your dress. You were tingling and you could still feel his tongue between your legs. His eyes were dark as he watched you from his seat, amused by your fumbling.
"Go before Sal comes back." You were flustered, your body felt electric and all he'd given you was his mouth for what — ten seconds?
He was too relaxed, and it only pissed you off further. He stood, sauntering towards you to press you against the vanity. His hand cupped your jaw, his rings kissing your skin.
"Funny that you're making demands when I'm the boss."
You breathed heavily, unsure of how to reply so you just held eye contact with him. Your lips parted as his head tilted, inching closer. His hand loosened, melting to your cheek so he could rub it with his thumb.
"Who's in charge, hm?"
"You are."
"That's right." He crooned, his lips brushing yours. "And who's gonna give you his cock later?"
The air was stripped from your lungs, the depth behind his question clear. Would you submit to him? Venture into this connection you had with him? You got on each other's nerves but fuck if there wasn't the most incredible sexual tension between you.
"You are, Harry."
He hummed, gripping your hand and bringing it down to cup his cock. He was hard, and pulsed in your hand when you gave him a squeeze. You just about crumbled when he moaned, his eyes lulling as you did it again. Harder.
"There's my good girl."
Sal knocked again, clearly impatient tonight. Harry smirked and could feel his lips curl against yours before he pulled away. He left the room with a confident strut while you were left shaking. You took a second to catch your breath, willing the arousal between your legs to simmer down before heading back out towards the stage.
You grabbed your purse and kept busy doing your job while Harry caught up with Sal. He was doted over, like always, and Sal told him how his viewings were skyrocketing. After he'd finished up his tasks on stage, he was whisked back to wardrobe so he could be styled.
Because Harry was busy chatting with tonight's guest and getting ready, all you had to do was wait for him to come to you. You peeked through the curtains at the set. The audience was being brought in and you were watching the seats fill from the side of the stage.
A piercing whistle sounded out from behind you and you twirled on the spot. He looked phenomenal. His suit was a sky blue, not too dissimilar to the shade of your panties. His shirt was a crisp white, his chain peeking through where it was unbuttoned, sat between his pecs and the light dusting of hair.
His eyes looked greener when he was dressed in blue, his lips more raspberry. He approached you and your eyes flew down to his shiny black oxfords.
"Whaddya think huh?" He spun on his heels, showing off. "Matchin'."
"Blue suits you."
"Suits you, too." Harry winked, standing close to you before nodding towards the audience. "How's it looking out there?"
Was he... trying to make casual conversation? After his face was between your thighs and all the talk that proceeded it? "Full house, like always. Did you... was that on purpose?"
"What?"
"The blue suit."
"Why else would I ask what colour your panties were, hm?"
"Because you're nosy."
"You know... every time you insult me, I get hard."
"Good thing I have plenty of them, then."
"Come on," He pressed you tight against the wall. "Gimme another one."
"Prick."
He chuckled, amused by how freely you were cursing. "That all you got?"
"You're the cockiest son a bitch I've ever met." You breathed out. His hands pressed to the wall on either side of your head, caging you in.
"Alright." He was crowding your space, the spicy-sweet vanilla of his cologne clouding your senses. He checked to see if anyone was around before clicking his tongue. "Take your panties off."
"What?" You were well aware that any crew member could walk by, and you weren't about to be caught slipping your panties down your legs.
"You heard me. Just lemme hold onto 'em until the show's over."
"Are you bent? I'm not giving you my panties. I need them and someone could walk by at any moment."
"Mellow out, no one's gonna see."
You deliberated in your head, genuinely considering it. His head tilted to the side, gauging your thoughts. This was so... exhilarating. Exciting. You were so out of it for him, and glad that you finally both agreed on something. You were both attracted to each other physically and that was about it.
Fuck it. Your hands reached beneath your dress, and Harry took a step back to give you room, keeping a lookout. You stepped out of those pretty little panties and held them out to him on your index finger. He snatched them up, eyeing how delicate they looked in his hand.
"Far out." He laughed, in shock that you actually did it.
You were a bundle of surprises tonight. He was throwing stuff at you that was pretty out there and you were throwing it right back. Sweet little sugar had a little more spice than he had anticipated.
"Cheers, sugar." He twirled them around on his finger and you slapped his shoulder.
"Don't just wave them around!" You hissed, looking around to make sure no one had seen the whole interaction.
Harry shoved them in his pants pocket and you smoothed out the bump they left, always a perfectionist. The guest of the night turned the corner and almost bumped into the two of you. You jumped apart, letting Harry chat to the guest on his own. He rarely enjoyed it and you looked back to see the subtle hints of irritation on his face. You knew he'd flash that charming smile and those adorable dimples as soon as the cameras came on.
With only a few minutes until the show was due to start, you bumbled around and made sure everything was perfect for him. You were very aware of the fact that you didn't have your panties on, and with your dress being shorter than usual, you had to be careful.
Sal breezed past you, beelining towards Harry and the guest with a huge grin. He greeted them loudly and you did your part by waiting to the side for further instruction. The guest was led to their spot for showtime, one of the stage managers with them to keep them entertained and to give their cues. Harry shook Sal's hand, hearing Sal's usual encouraging words before making his way towards you.
"Feeling okay?" You checked in, handing him a couple of Certs breath mints. You walked side by side towards center stage, and he wasn't shy about his stare on you. It felt different — the air around you. Usually filled with annoyance, was something else. Hotter, dreamier, sensual.
"Snazzy." He nodded, chucking the mints into his mouth. "Little foreplay always gets me goin'."
You huffed out a breath at his response, resisting the urge to retort something cheeky as the stagehand came to run through the show one more time. You righted his outfit, his eyes not leaving you as you made sure he looked smooth and perfect.
As the stagehand left, you grabbed your round brush from your purse and went over his curls. You began adding a little volume while he hummed and oohed and aahed to exercise and prepare his voice.
"You know New York..." You guided.
"You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."
"Again."
He sighed, closing his eyes so he could focus. "You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."
"Lesser leather..." You hinted at another tongue twister. You ran the lint roller across the lapels of his suit jacket and over his shoulders, catching his eyes and not missing the glint in them. "...never weathered..."
"It's funny," He smirked. "you're a tongue twister master right now, but you won't be able to say your own name by the time I'm done with you later."
"Oh my-"
"Yeah, I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."
"One minute till curtain, everyone!" Sal's voice boomed. "Look alive, look alive!"
The crowd was roaring with applause as the show began, but all you could hear was your pulse in your ears as your heart thudded in your chest. Harry, who usually thrived off of the cheers, was only focused on you. On your sweet voice asking if he wanted to see your panties, on your feisty insults.
"Filmed before a live studio audience..."
You called him a cocky son of a bitch and all he could think about was bending you over his knee and seeing how much shit you talked while his hand was marking your ass with its imprint.
Everyone fled the stage, but you were stood completely still in front of him. Frozen.
"Harry..."
His lips brushed yours again and your ears started ringing.
"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."
"Look at you," He crooned. "Runnin' round with no panties with that pretty ribbon in your hair. Dirty little thing, aren't you, sugar?"
You could feel how slick you were between your thighs and your eyes fluttered as his hand ventured beneath your skirt from behind, cupping your ass cheek with a strong hand before venturing further. His fingertips found your cunt and you almost collapsed against him.
He hummed lowly, rumbling in his chest. He pulled his hand away, very aware that the curtain was close to pulling up. He held his index and middle fingers in front of you, glistening with your arousal, and ran them along your lower lip.
You didn't even hesitate to suck his fingers into your mouth, not losing eye contact. Harry's brows turned down, his mouth dropping as he drawled out a slow fuuuck. And then he kissed you. It was messy and wet and quick. His lips were so soft against your own before he sucked deftly on your tongue, tasting you and your cunt at the same time.
"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."
"Fuck, can we cancel the show?" He growled, holding you to him with a grip on the nape of your neck.
"N-No. I have to go."
"...Mr. Harry Styles!"
You fled from the stage, walking backwards, not wanting to take your eyes off him. His expression was one of longing, his eyes not leaving you either. The curtain lifted, igniting him in the warmth of the stage lighting and the eruption of cheers.
He turned and faced the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. His smile was dazzling, and his blue suit was celestial under the bright glow. He was wrapped in success and adoration. You could see it radiating off him as he found centre stage and bowed.
"Good evening, New York!" He waited for applaud to finish. "How are we?"
You rounded the backstage area, checking in with crew and chatting to the guest.
"Can I just say..." Harry continued, clasping his hands together. "you look ravishing tonight, New York." More praise from the audience. "It's true, you do."
You rolled your eyes at the excited yells and cheers from the crowd. You watched him in a totally new light tonight. He was on a level that no one could reach. He was born to be on stage, to entertain.
He introduced the guest and brought them onstage, talking about their upcoming music and chatting them up. During the commercial breaks you checked in with the guest, and made sure Harry's appearance was on point.
His eyes were on you the whole time, and you could see him fighting the urge to make some kind of questionable comment. His eyes veered south and stayed on where the hem of your dress brushed your thighs.
"Need anything else?" You asked him politely, aware of the audiences stare on your back.
"I won't need coffee tonight." He educated softly and you nodded.
"We're back in fifteen seconds." The cameraman alerted and you gathered your things and went to leave. The guest was busy fixing their hair with the stylist. Harry's hand on your wrist stopped you, pulling you back.
"Actually, there is one more thing." He back peddled, and you raised an expectant brow, leaning in close to hear him. "Stay right over there, okay? Wanna be able to see you."
He pointed to a spot off stage, where only guests and select members of crew like Sal or the director were allowed to stand during air time. And he wanted you there. So he could look over and see you and know you were watching.
"I- Yeah, okay."
You rushed off stage, standing exactly where he told you to. He watched you right until the advertisement break ended.
"And we're back in three... two... one..."
His eyes switched back to the camera, his expression slipping into the charm that came so naturally to him once he was live on air.
He was a star. Delightful and eccentric and unapologetic.
He exchanged more jokes with the guest, who as an up and coming musician, was gearing up for their performance. You stayed to watch the show exactly where Harry wanted you, and you were pleased that you didn't get any slack from Sal. You rarely got to actually enjoy the show like this, and in a way, it felt like Harry had done you a favour.
His eyes often flicked to you after he'd told a joke or said something cheeky. Like he was directed it at you, or maybe he was checking to see if you found him as funny as the crowd did. When you didn't laugh as hard as he thought the joke deserved, he'd try extra hard to get you to laugh at the following one.
It was odd that he was trying to seek validation from you when he had millions at his feet.
As the show wrapped up, you couldn't have applauded him louder. You were proud, you felt giddy and bubbly inside. He was born for this, there was no denying it.
And then there was the realisation of what was to come once the show had finished. You became nervous. And insanely wet. The anticipation rattled yet excited you and you weren't sure what to make of it.
You rounded towards his exit, a crowd of crew and groupies waiting for him. He came to you first, as you were closest. He shot polite smiles to everyone but his attention was on you.
"How'd I do?"
"Phenomenal."
"Did you like my jokes?"
You side-eyed a few people waiting for a shred of his attention and felt the need to rush this interaction between you along. You didn't want to raise suspicions and you also didn't want to take away any attention he could be giving to these people who were clearly waiting for him.
"My tummy laughs from hurting so much." You whispered. His grin was contagious, dimples and his bunny teeth on full display. His eyes were warm as he stared down at you.
"Really?"
"Mhm."
A throat cleared behind you and Harry looked up to shoot them a reassuring wink and then looked back at you. "Wait for me in my dressing room."
It was an order, even with the softness in his tone. You licked your lips, not missing when his eyes caught it. You backed away, slowly pulling your ribbon out of your hair. His jaw clenched as your hair fell free.
"Yes, Mr. Styles. Right away."
His dressing room felt alien to you as you slipped inside, a familiar place with such a different atmosphere now. How quickly the dynamic had changed between you was dizzying. You always knew you were attracted to him, but you never thought you'd act on it.
And you certainly never thought he'd have his mouth on your cunt minutes before a show.
How long were you meant to wait? You checked your appearance in the mirror, your cheeks flushed with excitement. Your dress was pristine, as was your makeup and you wondered how long that would last.
You were riffling through Harry's pile of books when he came in. Your spine straightened, every nerve tingling. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it.
His gaze was one that had you clenching your thighs together. An intimidating hunger, a deep lust. His eyes were dark, void of the bright glint they usually offered. He didn't say anything and that only made the tension thicker.
And then he locked the door with a click.
He took one single step towards you and you inhaled a sharp breath at the slow, torturous pace of it. Like he was taunting and teasing you. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reaching up. He gripped his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, his eyes finding your feet in your Mary Janes and trailing up your legs.
He was slow with that as well as if to keep you on your toes. He had always been so rushed and spontaneous with a lot of what he did. But this.... this he'd been thinking about for a long time. He'd had months to plan this through.
Plan how he was going to play with you, make you beg for him, make you feel good.
He really enjoyed the secrecy of it. And all that would come after. He liked the idea of meeting your eyes at work, both of you exchanging knowing looks because you both knew what it took to pleasure each other.
Fuck. His sex life wasn't complicated. He fucked fans because the likelihood of seeing them ever again was slim. But you were close to home, dangerously so. He saw you all the time. And somehow that just made him want you even more.
He produced your panties from his pocket and came to stand in front of you.
"Now," He began, lowering his head to meet your eyes. "are you going to need help keeping quiet?"
He fucking knew he'd have you screaming for him. He was just being precautious, knowing that on the other side of the door, the studio was littered with crew members.
You shook your head. "No."
"Are you sure?"
"I don't think you're that good."
He rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, huffing out a humourless laugh before pocketing your panties again. You were so snappy and cheeky with him and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his dick so fucking hard in his pants. You were winding him up. Trying to poke at him and provoke him. Well, it was fucking working.
"Oh, you don't think so?"
"I think that's why your ego's as big as it is. Because you can't fuck."
He did what he wanted to do earlier that day; he grabbed your hair in his fist. You gasped through a surprised smile, and he brought you close until you were pressed against him.
"What did I tell you?" His voice was low, thick with arousal. You'd never heard his voice that deep and you felt it between your legs. "Hm?"
"That you won't need coffee tonight?"
He gripped your hair harder and his cock throbbed when you smiled.
"I told you," His eyes were burning. "that I'm going to ruin you."
The way he pronounced every word was electrifying. As if he was really trying to get his message across. How was this the same man that had asked if you laughed at his jokes after his show?
You flicked your tongue against his lower lip. "Do your worst."
His kiss was far harsher this time. Still just as messy, and you figured that was just how he liked it. He wasn't shy about it. He used his teeth, nibbling on your lower lip, biting on your tongue. He used his free hand to fist your dress at the small of your back.
You were pressed tight against him and fuck, he was so hard for you. Even through his pants, you were impressed with his size. You wanted to feel more, experience him fully. You didn't have all the time in the world, locked away in his dressing room. You were both painfully aware.
He pushed you back, landing you in the chair next to the vanity. He stripped off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. You watched as he pushed your dress out of the way, clearly annoyed that the fabric was disrupting him from his goal. Your center was still so wet for him and he couldn't even suppress the low grown at the sight.
"Pretty little pussy," He gripped your inner thighs, holding them apart. "still so fucking drenched for me. You enjoyed watching me onstage tonight, didn't you? Hearing everyone fawn over me but you know you're the one I want."
"I want you, too. So bad, please fuck me." You whined, your hips rocking up restlessly.
"I wanna have a play first."
"Fuck, please just-"
He spat directly between your legs, coating your pussy in his spit. His eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall before he attached his mouth to you with a deep moan. He licked along your entrance and then right up to the sensitive bundle of nerves, fully tasting you again.
He dipped his tongue inside you, fucking you with it before pulling away with a pop and sucking your clit back into his mouth. He trapped it between his teeth and flicked and twirled delicious patterns against it that had your muscles clenching.
He ate you as if he enjoyed it more than you did. He targeted your clit perfectly, able to read your body and its responses so well.
He held eye contact while had his mouth on your cunt, burying his face against you like he couldn't get close enough. Your legs shook on either side of his head, and he kept them spread with his wide hands. You could feel how cold his rings were against your skin.
Your hands reached down, tangling themselves into his curls. You held him against you, his mouth so scorching on you that you felt lightheaded with the tingling heat.
He pulled away momentarily, slipping his index and middle finger in his mouth, all the way until he drew back so teeth were peeling off his rings. He grabbed your hand, taking two of your fingers one by one and replacing the rings on them. They were huge on you but you admired how his jewelry looked on you, the ones he wore while he was on air. Glistening and extravagant.
Now he'd removed them so he could feel you properly.
Deciding that you were wet enough, he ran the pads of his fingers along your entrance. They veered up, circling your clit slowly before heading south again. You cried out softly as his fingers slipped inside you. It was an exquisite sensation and you stared down at him in wonder, mouth agape as you moaned out.
He curled them up, your spine melting as they pressed against a spot inside of you that had before now never been discovered. It was a blinding pressure, tight and full and so fucking good.
Harry smirked at the apparent shock on your face before he moved his fingers, curling them against your g-spot. As he found a rhythm, he brought his mouth back to your clit.
You arched your back, gasping for air as he worked you. He pumped his fingers hard, bringing you higher and higher to an elevation you'd never known. His mouth left your clit and before you could complain at the loss, he was spitting on it once more before giving it a mild slap with his free hand.
You screamed out, not expecting the harshness to feel that enticing. You were being far too loud for him to continue this comfortably. He didn't want anyone to interrupt and moreover, he didn't want you to get in trouble. He wanted to make you come over and over without a care in the world.
The same hand that slapped you retrieved your panties from his pocket before he shoved the lace into your mouth.
If you weren't so blissed out, you may have even be shocked by it. But at that moment, it was so hot and dirty. You trusted him to know best and look after you.
His fingers pulsed against your g-spot and you felt an intensity building in your abdomen and you rolled your hips towards his face. His mouth was relentless on your clit, desperate to get you zoned out with pleasure.
Your walls clenched and ballooned around his fingers and he pulled away, his eyes on you. They were full of lust and hunger, piercing right through you.
"Eyes on me sugar, don't look away." He wanted to watch you. To stare into your eyes, to see your orgasm shatter you.
He pumped his fingers, his pace blinding. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly what to do to get you there. He grunted with the exertion, the tendons in his arm flexing and bulging with how hard he worked you.
And then he smirked, almost pleased with himself. "Have you ever squirted before?"
With your mouth full of lace, you weren't able to verbally answer. You shook your head and he thought the confused frown on your face was fucking adorable.
Before you could even think about what he was asking, the most euphoric explosion of bliss rocked through you. You cried out into the lace, your entire body shaking as you came harder than you ever had before. It was fucking annihilating. You did as you were told, your eyes not leaving his. It was hard, of course. You wanted to shut your eyes and bask in the hot sensation that was taking over every nerve in your body.
But he wanted to watch you. And he wanted you to see the burst of fluid that erupted from your cunt, past his fingers. "Thaaat's it. Good fucking girl, come all over my fingers. Just like that."
You writhed in the chair, grateful for his grip on you. You didn't stop shaking, tremors of pleasure rocking you. He helped you as you came down, your chest heaving and your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You didn't think it was possible for you to come that way, and you could feel yourself becoming addicted to him.
Harry stood, his hand running up and down your thighs, squeezing them. He removed your panties from your mouth, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You blushed as you tasted yourself on his tongue and curiously ran a hand between your legs to feel the aftermath of your orgasm.
He watched, thinking it was so hot to see your fingers venture between your folds and along your dripping thighs.
"Feel nice?" He hummed, chuckling at your curious expression.
"So nice, I've never... I didn't think I could do that."
"You got me all wet, messy girl." He smiled, kissing you again.
He stood and helped you out of your dress, peeling off your bra so he could play with your tits. He sucked and bit at your nipples, feeling the fullness of your breasts in his palm.
"You're delicious all over, sugar." He admired your fully naked body. "Can't wait to feel you properly. See what that tight little cunt feels like around my cock."
He palmed himself as he spoke, so desperate to feel you. His expression was one of lustful longing, and you could feel it resonate between your legs as if you hadn't just had an earth-shattering climax.
"Take your clothes off." You whined, going to sit up and pouting when he stopped you.
He started to unbutton his shirt, revealing the white singlet underneath. "Stay just like that. Wanna give you my cock while you're sitting in my chair."
The chair where he sat before every show. Reciting jokes in the mirror while his hair was fussed over. The vanity where he'd first seen you, bent over it watering his flowers.
He got rid of his shirt, clearly impatient. He peeled off the white singlet too and you could have drooled at the sight of him. His broad torso and shoulders, his toned tummy, his strong pecs. The ink decorating him. Fuck, you probably did drool.
He caught the leg of the chair on his foot and dragged you closer, undoing his pants at the same time. You shifted forward, your hand reaching out to boldly cup his cock. He groaned, lulling his head back on his neck. His hand came over yours and urged you to squeeze him harder.
"You're so hard." You mewled, humming as he watched you feel him. His jaw dropped as you moved your hand expertly.
"I've been hard for you all night."
He was hyper-aware of the position you were both in and that you were on limited time. The studio was due to lock up soon, left only to after-hours security and the cleaners.
You leaned closer, pulling his pants down with his help. You ran your lips along his length over his briefs, letting your tongue flick out. He could feel the heat of your mouth seep through the material and he was losing his mind over the fact that only his briefs separated your mouth from his cock.
You peered up at him through your lashes, grabbing the band of his underwear to pull them down. You'd always been so reserved and controlled but the look on your face when you finally saw his cock had him fucking spiraling. Intimidation, thirst, determination.
With his pants and briefs pooled at his ankles, he guided you to take a hold of him. You obeyed, wanting to please him just as much as he pleased you. You pumped him slowly in your hand, loving how he felt in your fist.
"Your cock is so..."
Harry laughed, cupping your cheek and staring down at you expectantly. "What?"
"Pretty." It wasn't the word you were going for, but it wasn't the wrong word, either. He had a gorgeous cock, so thick and long. It was silky and hot and pulsed in your hand. You were impressed and intrigued.
"Pretty?" His voice was so soft as he regarded you.
"Yeah."
Pretty. He could deal with pretty. His thumb trailed across your lips. "Mm, and how's it taste?"
You pulled away marginally, grabbing his free hand and urging him to grab your hair in his tight first once more. You laid out your tongue and licked the tip of his dick, glistening with precum. You hummed at his taste and took him deeper, using your hand to spread your spit down his shaft.
Harry moaned deeply, taking a solid step forward so that you took more of him past your lips.
"Swallow me."
"Make me."
He narrowed his eyes at you, watching as you opened wide and held still, waiting for him to make you take it. With his hold on your hair, he guided you to swallow his cock. You were able to take about half, your hand working what you couldn't yet fit.
But he was helping you, not pushing you too far but doing it inch by inch. Your eyes began to water and you gagged when he pushed in deep. Your other hand was pressed against his thigh to keep yourself steady.
"Good girl." He praised, his voice low. "Take my cock so fucking well, don't you?"
He couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. He'd imagined this day far too many times to count, and it was always blurred by the unpleasant dynamic you two shared. But here you were, sucking him off after he'd made you explode around his fingers.
You loved having him down your throat. You enjoyed the challenge. He was so big and when you were able to take all of him, it was a feeling of satisfaction. He held you down until you were choking and your nose was buried in the hair around the base of his cock.
He wiped a tiny bit of smudged mascara from under your eye, admiring the blue of your eyeshadow and the colour of your lips as they wrapped around his cock. Fuck, he needed to be inside you. He was desperate for it.
He slipped you back onto the chair, angling you so that you were open to him. It happened so quickly and your mind was reeling at the sudden change. He was in full control and had no issue putting you where he wanted you. And you trusted him. He was so arrogant and you wanted to see if his bite was just as harsh as his bite. Considering the wet mess you'd made, it definitely was.
"Fuck, can't wait to feel you properly." He sighed, grabbing his cock at the base and running his tip between your legs.
Your gripped his arms, absentmindedly smoothing your fingers over some of his tattoos. "Beg me."
"What?" He raised a brow, his tone perplexed.
"Beg me to let you fuck me. You're an asshole, tell me you're sorry and beg me. Then I'll let you fuck me."
You didn't miss the way his cock throbbed when you called him an asshole, the flex in his jaw as he took in your words. Beg? Apologise?
He scoffed. "That's cute. As if you don't get so fucking wet when I'm an asshole to you. Just like how hard I get when you call me shit like that with that filthy mouth of yours."
You rolled your hips up, gripping his hip to pull him closer to you. "Please, baby. I wanna hear you beg."
The very tip of him slipped inside of you and you both moaned at the sensation. You were so wet and tight and he knew he could step forward and be inside you fully. But the expectant look you were giving him stopped him.
He gripped your throat, leaning down so he could bend over you. He gritted his teeth, his eyes hard on yours. "Please let me fuck you, sugar. Get you gushing on my cock over and over, fuckin' drown in your wet little pussy."
"Are you going to be nice?"
"But it's better when I'm mean." He crooned. "I'll make you take my cock, fuck you so hard, and won't stop until you cry."
Your eyes fluttered as he inched forward a little, sliding himself in further. The head of his cock was so snug inside of you and the way he stretched you had your toes curling. You brought your legs higher, hitching them up to his sides.
"Please," You mewled.
"Tell me, sugar." He needed to hear you say it. "Tell me you want me to fuck this dreamy cunt."
"Fuck me, Harry. Please."
"Hard?"
"Hard."
His hand tightened around your throat as he rolled his hips forward. He stretched you, so fucking big that he had to take his time to push past your tightness. His gaze narrowed as he pressed in tight, his hips flush against you. As he became fully buried inside of you, your vision tunneled on him and him only. On how good he felt, how his eyes were trained on yours.
He'd thought about what you'd look like stuffed full of his cock but he could never have imagined you being this perfect. Whimpering and moaning so fucking sweet while his hand was wrapped around your throat.
"Please move." You begged, feeling so overwhelmed with him being so thick inside of you but not moving.
He slowly retracted his hips, your pussy trembling to keep him there. He slowly pushed his hips forward again, groaning lowly as you clenched around him. He started out slow as first, wanting to ease you into it, his hands holding onto your sides. But you were desperate.
"You call that hard, baby?"
He shook his head, smiling at the bite in your tone. "You sure you can handle it?"
"What did I tell you about that ego of yours-"
He growled, seeing that you were toying with him again. He didn't want you to have the upper hand. So he started fucking you. Hard and relentless and strong. You cried out at his strength, his cock pumping against your g-spot so perfectly.
"Fuck yes, take my cock. Good fucking girl."
It was electrical. You were saturated from your orgasm he'd given you, he hit so deep, pushing against your front wall. He gripped your breasts, admiring as they bounced while he fucked you. He spat on them, unashamed in his desires to be so fucking dirty with you.
"Love your tits." He grunted. "Let me fuck them one day, sugar. Wanna see them fuckin' dripping in my cum."
"Yes, take whatever you want." You gasped.
You'd let him. He was cheeky and an asshole but he fucked you far better than anyone else ever could and he was just getting started. And you could find ways to keep his mouth busy when it started spouting nonsense.
"Yeah?" He hung over you, his curls dangling down. "Will you let me have you again, hm? Let me fuck your throat, your tight cunt, fuck- make you my plaything?"
"I want to be your plaything." You sighed, his necklace swinging in your face, glistening silver.
"You do, don't you? I'll have this pussy on my tongue while I memorise my script. Carry your panties around in my pocket and give them back to you when you've earned them."
The pressure was blinding and he brought your legs up over his shoulders so he could take you even harder. The legs of the chair scraped obnoxiously against the ground as he fucked you into it. He was brutal, making you take his cock with each harsh thrust.
You cried out, sobbing his name. He was so deep and you knew you'd be feeling him for days after. He picked you up, sitting you on the vanity. You leaned back against the mirror, icy against your back. He hauled your hips towards him, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He took his cock in his hand and fisted your hair with the other, holding you still so he could slide inside of you again. You clenched around him mercilessly, and he had to flex his hips harder so he could take you properly.
The vanity jolted on its legs under the force of him. Your hand wraps around his neck, trying to stabilise yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts.
"Call me an asshole again."
"Harry-" You jolted underneath him. "Fuck, you're an asshole."
"Yeah? Wanna hit me?"
"W-What?"
"Fucking do it. Slap me like I know you've been wanting to for the past six months."
Your hands clutched at his curls. Hitting him was the last thing on your mind right now while he was inside you. Until he'd brought it up, that is. You'd wanted to slap him on a daily basis and you wondered if he'd been reading your mind.
Mustering up courage enough to do so, you raised your hand and slapped his cheek. Not as hard as you could have, but the groan he emitted told you that you weren't gentle, either.
"So good." He grinned, his cheek reddening from your hand. You gripped his jaw harshly, licking your handprint before kissing him.
Your kisses moved to his neck and he tilted his head to give you more access to the skin. He flicked his eyes to his reflection in the mirror, finding his lustful expression, his cheek red, His eyes were alight with danger and arousal, driving his hips into you as he stared at himself. You moaned loudly as he pounded into you, unrelenting. Wanting you so out of it so that you could never look at him the same way again.
He imagined you looking at him during rehearsals, looking down at your Mary Janes with flushed cheeks. Your soft cadence as you asked him when he would fuck you next. Your surprised gasp when he'd pull you into a supply closet to fuck you hard and quick before anyone noticed your absence.
Just as you grew accustomed to the position, he flipped you, brushes and hair products flying off the top as you found balance on it. Your eyes met his in the mirror and they blazed through yours as he pushed himself into your warmth again.
"Fuck," He hissed, throwing his head back as you gripped him tightly. He held onto your shoulder and fucked you, near on slamming you into the furniture. His hand crept up to cup your throat, the other doing the same as he found a rhythm.
"Right there, don't stop." You gasped.
"Gonna think of this every time I'm in this room." He grunted. "Sit in that chair before a show and think about your perfect cunt around me. How you smile when I wrap my hands around your throat, how much you love having my cock to choke on."
"I want you to fuck me on this vanity every day, Harry."
"Every day, Sugar." He was breathless. "So much I wanna do to you. Play with you, make your pussy cream for me. Fuck, how did we go so long without this?"
He started using his height to his advantage, screwing down into you. You struggled to grasp clarity, your senses clouding as pleasure took over. His hands tightened around your throat and he took you harder when a ghost of a smile touched your lips.
He slipped two of his fingers in your mouth, hooking them into your cheek and pulling. He hissed at how fucking submissive you were and how you were willing to be just as dirty as him.
Letting go of your neck entirely, one hand moved to your hip and the other to your hair. He pulled you up, forcing you to look into the mirror.
"I'm an asshole but I fuck you good, don't I?"
You wanted to slap the smirk off his face. He could sense your annoyance at how cocky he was. He took you harder and you eyed him in the reflection, not wanting to give him an answer. And that didn't work for him.
He gripped your hair tight, pulling you back until his lips met your ear.
"Don't I?" He spat.
"Yes,"
He spanked your ass. Hard. Twice. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, you fuck me good."
Pleased, Harry reached in front of you, getting you to wet his fingers with your tongue before rubbing fast circles on your clit. Your legs turned to jelly, your body melting against him as he took you hard and played with your clit.
You felt the rush of pleasure wrap around you and grow in every nerve ending. He watched you in the mirror, intent on seeing you come again. He held you up while you writhed in his arms, his hips unyielding as he split you in half with his cock.
Your hands flew out, pushing various things off the vanity top as your orgasm barrelled towards you. Harry gritted his teeth, bending his knees to follow you as you moved so he could keep fucking you.
"You gonna come? Hm? Dirty fucking girl. Running around the studio with no panties on. This cunt was so wet for me from the start, wasn't it? Tiny dress, bossy little heels, and that fucking clipboard."
This climax was more intense than the first, but no less wet. You exploded around his cock, crying out his name before his hand came over your mouth to keep you quiet.
"Shhh. Good girl. Keep coming on my cock, don't stop, don't stop." He was feral at how good you felt around him, rubbing your clit until you were trembling at the overstimulation. His hips slowed, faltering. He was losing composure the tighter your pussy clenched around him.
He picked you up, not wasting any time in settling back on the small couch in the room. He laid flat on his back, while you straddled his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, nails digging into the skin as he gripped your ass and moved your hips.
His cock sat snuggly between your folds and you shamelessly rolled yourself along his length. You felt empty without him inside you and you lifted up, grabbing his length with a shaking hand, and slid him back into your warmth.
You both moaned out softly, his cock throbbing inside you. He could feel how close he was, as could you. Your hot and wet and dreamy cunt wasn't helping him stave it off. His vision was trained on you sitting on top of him like a fucking angel. Your tits, red from his teeth, your full hips, and your blissed-out expression.
He rolled his hips up softly, encouraging you to move. "Ride me, sugar."
You found a rhythm that had you shaking, so sensitive from your orgasms His cock pressed deliciously tight against your g-spot with every roll forward. With your hands flat on his chest, you started to bounce on him. You were so wet and the sound of it was making him crumble. The wet slaps and the way your pussy was drenching him.
His gaze met yours and he just about came. Your eyes lulled, cheeks flushed and your mouth agape as you fucked him. The most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He grabbed your tits, playing and pulling your nipples with deft fingers. He strained his neck, moaning as you picked up your pace.
You wanted him to finish. To feel the toe-curling euphoria he'd given you. The one given when a connection like the one you had was this electric.
"Ooh, shit. Just like that." He praised, squeezing your hips so hard you knew they'd bruise.
"Yeah? You love watching me bounce on your cock, don't you?"
You'd thrown his own tactic right back in his face. The sweet voice with the daring question. Of course, he loved it. He was addicted.
"Fuck yes."
Your hand trailed up, lightly wrapping around his throat. He could feel the rings he'd given you to wear against his skin and he snarled, holding your hips and screwing up into you, meeting your thrusts. Having you fuck him with your hand around his throat had him fucking spiraling into another dimension.
"You're close," You mewled, his cock throbbing hard inside you. "I can feel it."
"Yeah? Go on, make me cum. I'm gonna cum so fucking hard for you, sugar. Gonna fill you right up, fucking take it. Take all my cum- fuck."
He let you take him while his orgasm hit. It was white-hot intense, his grip on you not lessening as he moaned out your name. He pumped you full of his cum, the thick white ropes painting your walls. His brow turned down in the middle, his lips parted a little and you could see the whites of his teeth. The thick cords in his neck protruded under your hand.
He was stunning and animalistic and brazen, even in a time when one is most vulnerable.
The muscles and tendons in his arms flexed as he held you down on top of him, humming out lowly as the flames of his orgasm dimmed into embers.
And while neither of you was sure how it would feel post the explosion, you'd expected at the very least that it would be awkward. You didn't have the fondest attachment towards each other but fuck if you weren't addicted to each other's bodies now.
He sighed, reeling in his climax. His hands crawled up your sides, encasing you and encouraging you to come down to him. He hugged you, sighing in your neck before kissing the skin. You could hear a commotion in the hallway of the crew leaving and it suddenly sunk in that you'd just fucked your boss.
And neither of you could wait to do it again.
"Should we get out of here?" He asked after a few minutes.
"We?"
"Mm. Head back to mine if you want. Got the new Sam Cooke vinyl we can jam out to."
You grinned, trailing your finger along his lips. "Can we fuck again?"
His expression mirrored yours. "We are definitely fucking again. Don't have to be as quiet at mine, wanna hear how loud you get."
You rolled your hips, feeling his cock softening and his release beginning to trickle out of you. He hummed, squeezing you as if to warn you.
"Behave, sugar."
"But that's no fun."
He couldn't disagree with that. He checked the clock and knew there was only a slim window of time for you both to leave the studio without raising any brows.
"Come on." He slapped your ass. "Let's clean up and cut out."
You slipped into the bathroom, your legs shaky from how hard he'd taken you. You cleaned up, as he'd told you to. Your reflection in the mirror was a sight for sore eyes and you tried your best to look presentable and not freshly fucked.
As you entered the dressing room again and gathered your things. Harry had dressed in his more casual clothes, a pair of mint dress pants and a t-shirt, throwing his fur coat over his shoulders. He noticed the way you slipped on your dress and smoothed out your hair, touching up your lipstick. He approached you, wrapping his arms around you as you stood in front of the vanity.
"You know I'm just gonna get you all messy again, don't you?"
"I'm counting on it."
He smirked, kissing your neck and fisting the hem of that tiny dress. You pulled away, eyeing the time. You bent over, going to pick up your panties and frowning when he snatched them up before you could.
"Hey, I need those."
"What'd I say, hm? You'll get them back when you earn them." He slipped the blue lace in his pants pocket, straightening his fur coat and holding out his hand.
"Jerk." You walked towards him, nudging his hand away and leaving the dressing room. A showcase that the feisty dynamic between you was here to stay. The lights were off in the studio now, aside from a few dim ones high up on the walls. He scoffed, racing after you. He lagged behind a few steps, wanting to watch your legs as you walked. You turned, throwing him a dubious look and he smiled innocently as he was caught checking you out. "What are you-"
A gleam of a security guard's flashlight lit up the wall next to you. Harry swore, pulling you towards the exit before you were spotted. You wouldn't get in trouble per se, but being sneaky was so much more exciting than sticking around.
"Shit- let's haul ass, sugar. Wanna play with you all night."
The warmth and adoration he felt on stage, under those lights with every pair of eyes set on him. It was a dimmed sensation compared to how he felt with you. His sugar. Saccharine yet equally as fervent, gooey and thrilling and sticking to him as if magnetised to his cells. 
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leclerc-s · 6 months
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paint the town red - part twelve
IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME COMING
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series masterlist
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MONZA 2024
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scuderiaferrari posted new stories
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local german spotted in the paddock!! well, look who the iceman dragged in STOP STEALING MY PHONE TO TAKE PICTURES YOU KNOCK-OFF ONE DIRECTION!! clearly these guys are hard at work before quali today. scores polo position, begs bianca for her phone, sends me this and says, 'let the people know i'm ecstatic to have pole position.' who's man is this??
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there is anticipation in the air. the city of monza is thick with excitement, the possibility of their drivers not only winning the race as a 1-2 but also becoming constructor champions at their home race is amazing. it’s a sense of excitement the tifosi haven’t felt since monza 2019, back when their current championship leader, won their home race. however, no one is more charles and carlos. charles is on pole once again, carlos right behind him with max and oscar behind them, it’s another ferrari front row lockout, but this time it’s at monza, their home race.
charles had been smiles all around, laughing and joking with his fellow drivers, he wasn’t nervous anymore, he’d lost the nerves after winning monaco. carlos also had lost the nerves after winning his home race in spain. they were confident and probably a little cocky, but with the lead they had in the championship, it would only be a matter of time before they won, it just wouldn’t be as special if they won anywhere else but monza. 
much like monaco, the avengers could be spotted in the paddock throughout the entirety of the weekend. everywhere you glanced there was an avenger there, dressed to the nines and in red, showing their support for ferrari. but the true stars like always were charles and carlos. however, the arrival of a certain former ferrari driver sparked even more chaos than anyone else ever could. kimi räikkönen was spotted in the ferrari garage, sparking much conversation because the beloved iceman was missed around the paddock.
once again, will buxton was walking through the garage area when an avenger was caught waving at will, this time the culprit was none other than steve rogers. behind him were the ever bickering duo of sam and bucky. 
“mr. rogers, a pleasure to be seeing you here at monza.” will greeted. steve smiled at him, “mr. rogers makes me sound old, i’m only a 104 will. steve will do just fine.”
will laughed, “well, steve, how are you liking monza so far?” 
“it’s been great,” steve began, “the energy here is just unbelievable. i thought the craziest it would get was monaco, but i was wrong.” 
“did you enjoy monaco? it was quite the chaotic race, not for ferrari of course. they had a calm race.”
“oh yes, it was very fun and entertaining. i wasn’t much of a formula 1 guy before all of this, it was after my time the first time around. but when i met tony he used to require no one bother him on race weekends, bianca always joined him, it was like their thing.” 
“are you liking the sport so far? any complaints?” 
“no, none from me personally. i heard the fans get annoyed when one person or one team starts winning it all so i suspect they’ll start complaining after this. as for liking the sport, yes, it’s very entertaining once you understand how everything works.”
“any doubts from the team today?” will asked, hoping to get some information out of him. steve shook his head, “they’re pretty confident they can win today. i know, like most race weekend when max is starting behind charles, they feel a bit of pressure, but they’ve got this. the car’s good, the drivers are confident.” 
“so they’re definitely winning this?” 
“of course,” steve answered, “not a doubt in my mind about it.” 
“very well, it was nice speaking to you steve,” will said, as he departed. 
“bye will,” steve replied. he rapidly turned around, beginning to scold sam and bucky. which the cameras caught, one of the commentators making a joke about it. 
inside the ferrari garage the team stood in a semi circle, sebastian being the last to join them. the closer they got the race, the more the nerves seemed to actually appear. sebastian took a look at his team, “we’ve got this.” 
“we do,” bianca agreed. the shared a quick embrace before parting ways. charles turned to bianca, “another bet?” 
bianca groaned, “no, no more betting.”
“it’s kind of a tradition now,” he joked. 
“fine,” bianca said, “one last bet, what do you want?” 
“if i win this, and we become constructors champions today, you have to tell your dad.”
“what? do you have a death wish?”
“he won’t kill me,” charles replied, “he likes me too much.”
“i’ll think about it,” bianca answered, “now, shut up and listen to what i have to tell you.” 
“yes, madame,” the two laughed, failing to notice a gossiping joaquin and scott. 
“they’re totally dating,” scott told joaquin. joaquin nodded in agreement, “i wonder how long they can keep this up for?” 
“not long,” scott replied, “bianca is not that great of a secret keeper. she’s bound to slip up sooner or later.”
the two of them shut up as sam and bucky approach them, the race 20 minutes away from starting. charles steps away from bianca as the team begins taking the car out of the garage and towards the race track. he exchanges a nod with bianca before joining the rest of the grid for the national anthem. as soon as it was over he went to talk for a moment with carlos before he was being ushered to get into the car.
"radio check," bianca said.
"do you think we can play a song when we win? like the lady gaga one again?" charles questioned. bianca laughed, "we'll see."
the moments before the lights went out were the most nerve wracking moment's of charles life. despite telling everyone he wasn't nervous and tricking himself into believing the nerves were gone for good, he was lying. but he moment those lights were out he was gone. carlos was left behind fighting max for p2 as oscar was shown to sneak around both of them and gain the upperhand. on lap 3 carlos was finally able to get away from max, and his fight with oscar began. it would only be a matter of time before he caught up with oscar but for now oscar was gone.
apparently catching oscar would be easier said than done, but a pit stop error from mclaren gave carlos the advantage that he needed. when he came out of the pits oscar was now fighting max for that final podium position. in the penultimate lap of the race, with charles and carlos ahead of them oscar and max continued to fight u til they achieve a photo finish. unfortunately for the reigning world champion, oscar came out on top for the race.
"it seems fitting that here, in monza, the home of ferrari, where they bleed rosso corsa, that ferrari is crowned the constructor champion of the 2024 season! for the first time since 2008 ferrari is constructor champions! charles leclerc and carlos sainz bring home another 1-2 for the scuderia.”
the camera pans to the the ferrari crew as they erupt into screams and begin jumping for joy. at the pit lane bucky barnes and sam wilson run across the pitlane, grabbing sebastian vettel and hoisting him onto their shoulders, as they parade the man up and down the lane. they stop in front of the red bull garage, both soldiers stop for a brief moment, flipping off the red bull crew who could only laugh, a visibly upset christian horner is shown for a moment. joaquin torres and peter parker are seen grabbing tony stark and throwing the man into the air, all he can do is laugh.
but the real stars, charles and carlos are basking in their win. the two cars came to stop at their rightful places in the parc ferme. charles jumps out of his car first, he jumps on top of it as carlos does the same. the two drivers turn to look at each other before running and enveloping each other in a hug. together they rush at their team, who welcome them with open arms. both of them hug their engineers tightly, before rushing to get weighted. charles is the first to spot oscar, he shakes the other drivers hand as oscar congratulates him.
before he can say anything else, david coulthard is pulling oscar away for his interview. carlos follows after him, with a brief congrats from oscar. charles is last one to go for his interview before all three drivers were being ushered to the cool down room.
charles turns to oscar, “i thought you were behind me?”
oscar shakes his head, “i lost a position after my pit stop. there was some kind of mistake and it was too late to catch up with carlos. i came out right in front of max.”
“i couldn’t catch you,” carlos tells the aussie. oscar smiles a bit, “you were too busy fighting with max.”
the three drivers turn to the screen, checo’s car is seen fighting with a williams, carlos looks confused, “is that logan or alex?”
“logan,” oscar answered, “he was starting p10 this race.”
“he’s doing better, no?” charles asked. oscar nodded, “he was close to a podium a while back in canada.”
“he’ll get it one day,” charles said, rather optimistically. with the way the season had been going, full of surprises, it was only a matter of time before logan got his podium.
“i hope so,” oscar whispered. he knew his american friend and been longing to get that podium in formula 1. it was his way of proving everyone wrong.
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will buxton approaches tony, before the podium ceremony, he’s got both arms around harley and bianca. bianca is holding morgan in her arms. the little girl looking at everything in wonder while harley is bicker with peter. tony notices will and smiles at him.
“tony, bianca, harley, any words to the fans?” will asks.
"this win is not just for us," tony begins, "it's for every single tifosi who waited and hoped that one day we would be constructors champions again. but this is also for the other drivers who were let down by ferrari in the past. kimi, felipe, fernando, this is for you! forza ferrari!"
“it’s just,” harley began, “it’s incredible to be able to do this in front of our home crowd, it’s so special. we’re so thankful they had faith in us to be able to do this.”
“holy shit,” bianca softly says, “it was always a dream, to be able to do this, to see ferrari do this. i don’t think there are any words to describe what we as a team feel having won this after so many years.”
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the screams are deafening as carlos runs up to the podium. he waves at the crowd, seamingly amplifying the cheers. charles is called up next to the podium and it seems like the cheers grow louder. charles stands on his spot at the podium, as he looks down at the crowd below, where his team is, winking at them, or rather someone. the person on stage is ferrari’s beloved team principal, sebastian vettel. he smiles brightly, at his two drivers, the crowd below chanting his name.
the national anthems begin, causing it to go silent for a moment as the monégasque anthem begins. charles smiles brightly, hearing his anthem play in monza again. the anthem switches to the italian anthem and all hell breaks loose. all around them the crowd sings the anthem, as their team sings along. all three ferrari members turn to look at each other mounting the words of the italian anthem, before looking back at the crowd.
as each of the drivers get handed their trophies, the crowd’s energy shifts.
oscar raises up his trophy to his team, a group of papaya drowned out by a sea of red, but everyone cheers for him regardless. carlos holds up his trophy, as the sounds are amplified. charles receives his next and throws it up in the air, before holding it out to the tifosi and his team. the last one to receive the trophy is seb, he takes and waits a moment before showing it to the crowd. the screams grow louder, if that was even possible.
when the time comes, all three drivers, as if in agreement, turn to drown seb with champagne. the team principal laughs before they all turn to the crowd below. after pictures, seb grabs the trophy, running to the front of the stage, where he holds it out, one last time, and the screams are deafening. it had been a long time coming but ferrari has finally done it, they were finally constructors champions.
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liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others
scuderiaferrari 2024 constructor world champions. we fucking did it! to our beloved tifosi, this is for you. your years of patience have paid off, we are so back.
tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55
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harleykeener YEAH BABY! THAT'S HOW YOU MAKE A COMEBACK!
username i never thought i'd live to see the day! OH MY GOD!
username oh these guys are going to be so fucking hungover tomorrow
peterparker LET'S FUCKING GO! FORZA FERRARI!
biancastark_potts FUCK EVERYONE WHO THOUGHT WE COULDN'T DO IT!
↳ username oh yeah, these guys are so drunk. where's isaiah when you need him?
charles_leclerc WE DID IT BABY!! LET'S GO!!
isaiah_atkins VICTORY HAS NEVER FELT SO SWEET!
↳ username apparently he's as drunk as them.
arthur_leclerc YEAH! SCREW RED BULL! WE DID IT!
↳ username oh boy, they're all going to regret this tomorrow
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liked by pierregasly, landonorris, harryosborn and others
peterparker PARTY ROCKERS IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT! (i have no memory of what occurred last night, yes we all partied together.)
tagged: michellejones, yelenabelova, katebishop, biancastark_potts, joaquintorres, pierregasly, francesca.cgomes, georgerussell63, fernandoalo_oficial, harleykeener, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, isaiah_atkins, ririwilliams, landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, alex_albon, lilymhe, lewishamilton, danielricciardo, yukitsunoda0511, arthur_leclerc, olliebearman, americachavez, estebanocon, mickschumacher, lancestroll
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📍peterparker not pictured is yuki and pierre's horrible karaoke, isaiah falling on his ass, yelena punching a guy who flirted with her, riri outdrinking max, logan and oscar taking a nap in the middle of the club, alex and george almost making out, lewis trying to get a dancing kate off a table, charles for some reason, and many others.
↳ pierregasly he disappeared in the middle of the party and came back like an hour later?
↳ charles_leclerc lies and slander!
samwilson is that bianca? making out with someone?
↳ peterparker huh i guess it is.
↳ katebishop that is obviously the boyfriend you idiots.
yelenabelova is that why there's blood on my shirt?
↳ alex_albon you are one scary lady. you knocked him out.
↳ yelenabelova good, you should fear me.
biancastark_potts oh my god, what the hell happened last night?
↳ americachavez apparently too much and too little at the same time.
yukitsunoda you guys should throw more parties if it means free alcohol paid for by tony stark.
↳ tonystark YOU PEOPLE PAID WITH MY CARD?
↳ harleykeener duh? you're a billionaire, you can handle it.
ririwilliams i have never been more proud of myself.
↳ katebishop you built your own iron man suit from scratch?
↳ ririwilliams and? i outdrank max verstappen! that's not something a lot of people say they can do.
↳ maxverstappen1 she's right! be proud of yourself riri!
harryosborn oh, i'm sure you guys had fun.
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bianca groaned as she pulled her phone away from her face, charles laying beside her laughed. bianca turned to look at him, "this isn't funny."
"it's hilarious mon amour," charles said through giggles. bianca rolled her eyes, as she sat up, "sure, my dad demanding to know who i'm kissing in peter's post is hilarious."
charles laughed again and as bianca moved to get up charles pulled her back, "you have to tell him."
"i will," bianca promised, "i just have to figure out when."
charles nuzzled his face into her neck, "go back to sleep."
both of their phones buzzed at the same time, a text from harley. bianca grabbed her phone first, sitting up as she read harley's text, charles groaned, "no, come back."
"shit," bianca said as she began running around the room. charles sat up, "what is it?"
"harry told my dad. we have less than five minutes before he shows up."
charles sat up, "why is this bad? i thought you wanted to tell him? are you embarrassed of me?"
bianca stopped, pulling her shirt over head, shaking her head rapidly, "i'm not, i promise. i just, i wanted to tell him when i wanted too, not when someone else decided to tell him. with harry, my dad found out because of norman. i never got an opportunity to do things right."
"okay," charles said, pulling a shirt over his head. bianca kissed his forehead, causing charles to pout, "i think you missed."
bianca laughed, but pressed a quick kiss to his lips, charles seemed ready to protest when both of them froze, a voice coming from the otherside of the door, "LECLERC!"
"oh shit," bianca whispered.
"LECLERC OPEN THIS DOOR! AND YOU! BIANCA MARIA STARK-POTTS BETTER NOT BE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR WITH HIM!" TONY SHOUTED.
"fuck," the couple whispered.
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series taglist: @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @be-your-coffee-pot @vellicora @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @nothaqks @nataliambc @prongsvault @georgeparisole @kailyn-g05 @bella-1 @butterfly-lover @emilyval1 @winchesterwife27 @namgification @octopussesarecool @jensonsonlybutton
click here to be added to the paint the town red taglist
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¡leclerc-s speaks! ooh, a cliffhanger dun, dun, dun! harry's such an ass, can't believe i wrote him to be like that. bianca and charles are so american coded. i stand by what i said.
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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196 notes · View notes
thesoftboiledegg · 1 month
Text
Recently, I decided to take a trip to the city. I grew up in a rural area, and antiquing every weekend was my parents' idea of fun, so I've been trying to get out more as an adult.
I drove around for a while, found a populated area and pulled over to take a break when I--
Heeey, wait a second. What's that in the background?
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OK, I didn't actually end up here by accident. The Rickmobile made a stop, and I dropped everything to go.
These cardboard cutouts greeted me at the building entrance. A man asked me to take his picture with them, and people had photoshoots with Anime Rick and Morty all night.
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But I'm not here for cardboard cutouts, although that was a bonus. I'm here because this is the ultimate merchandise roundup. It blows all other merchandise roundups out of the water.
First off, I was surrounded by people wearing Rick and Morty merchandise. And, believe me, I came prepared with my own:
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One fan said he liked my shirt! Bootleg, official, streetwear, old, new, eclectic...there were so many great shirts that I wish I could've taken photos of them all. I did ask a fellow fan for a picture of her Mr. Nimbus shirt as we waited in line, and she was delighted:
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Three Adult Swim employees gave out prizes in the Rickmobile. While I waited, I noticed that somebody had taped a few drawings on the walls and ceiling.
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When I approached, a worker drew an X on my hand with a permanent marker. She said that was to keep people from getting in line twice.
I thought I'd have to buy merchandise, but they gave it away for free! They had you spin a wheel, then gave you a prize with the corresponding number.
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My turn! ✨
The bearded guy said "Go ahead and spin the wheel! Get schwifty!"
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I won a tiny meditating Anime Rick pin. I'll have to find a safe spot to keep it. Maybe I should make a Rick Sanchez itabag...
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And if you see me on the news, this is why.
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Now it was time to explore. The Rickmobile was the main event, but Adult Swim had another surprise: Morty came along for a spin. And boy, he didn't know what to think.
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Aaaaaaaahh!!
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Still, Rick couldn't help being the center of attention. To be fair, he WAS the one giving out free stuff.
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And it turned out that this wasn't the only Rickmobile present.
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One of the food trucks joined in, too!
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It was a bit of a drive, but I'm glad that I went because it was an incredible experience. It was amazing to be surrounded by so many Rick and Morty fans. Everyone was smiling and having a good time.
One woman pulled over in her vehicle and rolled down the window to ask an Adult Swim employee what was going on. When he told her they were promoting the Rick and Morty anime, her face broke out in a grin. "I love Rick and Morty!" she said.
Rick and Morty has attracted controversy, but you can't deny that it has a global fanbase that brings people together. What a great opportunity to relax and celebrate our favorite show.
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On the way back to my car, I stopped and asked a guy if I could take a picture of his shirt. He enthusiastically agreed and told me he got this shirt at the 2018 stop.
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When I said that I'd missed out, he told me that it wasn't that great--all they did was hand out beer. This time, they had prizes AND a screening. He was so happy and excited to be there. I need enthusiasm like that in my life.
Say what you will about Rick and Morty fans, but we are definitely not shy.
But hang on, guys, the story doesn't end here. Stay tuned for part two, where I'll tell you what happened after dark... 🌙
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shinestarhwaa · 10 months
Note
16,25,32,69-yunsanhwa please? thxx.!
I got a little too excited with this one HAHA I'm sorry, I hope you enjoy it cuz I rly did xo
WHAT HAPPENS IN LONDON || YUNSANHWA
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Genre: Smut
Pairing: Ateez!Yunho/San/Seonghwa x manager!reader
Word Count: 3k
Tags/warnings: Idol!AU, Dom!Yunho, Dom!San, Sub!Seonghwa, Sub!reader, Foursome, Dirty Talk, M x M (only SanHwa), bottom!Seonghwa, top!San, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (m receiving), lots of orgasms, handjob, Seonghwa is a wee bit pervy, voyeurism
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123 @mjyungi
ENJOY!
It had been a fun evening so far, walking around the city with the three boys. They treated you on a meal and you showed them various locations and even took videos of their silly Tiktok ideas.
They were lovely really, very different from the artists you had worked with before. You've had two managing jobs before but they didn't last long because of various reasons, but you got hired by KQ for Ateez and you couldn't be happier.
It paid well and they treated you nicely. They always made you laugh and made sure you were comfortable while you're the one who should take care of them instead. Somewhere in your heart you felt like they truly cared for you and you really felt like you didn't deserve them.
After safely getting them back to their hotel, San invited you and the other two boys into his room for a nightcap. After some begging and pleading you finally agreed and entered his room.
As Seonghwa and Yunho had already sat down on the chairs you stood a little awkwardly beside San's bed, drink in your hand. "Just sit, manager-nim," San pouted, pulling your sweater. You couldn't help but smile at the boy and you nodded, sitting down next to him.
The conversation carried on normally until Yunho decided to ask you more personal questions. "So, you're not involved with anyone, manager-nim?" He asked. You shook your head and laughed a bit sheepish. "No, it has been a while, I'm too busy with you idiots," you answered with a grin.
"Oh, really? Well then I'm sorry," Yunho apologized, "we should make up for that in some way right?"
You locked eyes with Yunho as your mouth went dry. What did he mean by that? "I mean, it is only fair," he carried on, "you're taking good care of us as our manager, Y/N, but who's gonna take care of you?"
The way his name fell off your lips made you feel all tingly, a feeling you tried to ignore and block out, but it was impossible because his deep voice send shivers and all kinds of signals directly down to your core.
"I-I...," you stammered, "I can take perfectly good care of myself, I have my own apartment and I don't have debts-." "I believe that isn't what Yunho meant," Seonghwa chimed in. His stare was a little more intense than you were used to from him, his soft and shiny boba eyes gone.
"You know what we mean," San suddenly hushed by your ear, "who's there to please you? I bet we can do it better than you and your little toys could." "T-toys?" You gasped. "We know what's in that red bag of yours, remember the day you slept in our hotelroom last month?" San asked, reminiscing the night where you lost your keys so you crashed on their couch.
"You looked in my bag?" You asked, nervously. "Well, it was open for everyone to see so, yes, I saw what was in there," San confessed. "But believe me, my cock is bigger than that, I could please you so much better than that thing... I bet all three of us could."
You swallowed thickly and crossed your legs. "I-I don't know San, this all seems quite unprofessional," you muttered. "It's just one night, Y/N, and besides that, no one has to know about it," Yunho said. You hesitated, looking at the gorgeous men in front of you.
It was too good to be true right? Three hot and famous men wanting to have sex with you in a beautiful hotelroom on the other side of the world? But how could you say no if they looked at you like this?
"How... would that work?" You asked carefully, earning a few glances and smirks from the boys. "Well you know how sex works right? You can't be a virgin," San grinned. "No, no I know... I'm not a virgin," you said, blushing, "it's just... how would it work with the four of us...? You'd all be naked in front of each other, is that not a problem for you?"
San smirked and let his hand glide over your thigh. "I'm kinda excited about it, actually," he confessed. "Always have been curious about seeing their cocks hard and leaking...," he went on, "and Seonghwa hyungies hole."
Seonghwa blushed and his eyes went wide as he tried to hide his growing boner with his sweater. "Wh-whatt?" He giggled as he looked away, unable to face him. "You heard me." What did he say?
"I don't care what you guys want, all I know is that right know I'm gonna rip off those stupid tight clothes and I'm gonna ravish your naked body," Yunho grunted. "Hm, we'll share," San said.
San kissed your lips and you immediately melted in his embrace. You had always wondered what his arms felt like, his big strong arms that drove every woman on the planet absolutely insane and they felt great.
San kept kissing you as Yunho got on his knees in front of you, pulling down your skirt and spreading your legs a little, seeing the wet patch on your underwear. "Ooh, did we get you wet, Y/N?" Yunho smirked. You broke off the kiss with San, already missing his soft lips as you nodded and slipped your panties off. Yunho nearly growled at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him, running his hands over your soft thighs.
San undid your blouse and bra in a few simple motions, leaving you completely naked. You felt so exposed, looking at the three completely clothed boys and they caught up on it quickly. One by one they started to undress, leaving just their underwear on.
Yunho got between your legs again and licked a stripe up from the bottom of your cunt all the way to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. "O-Oh, Yunie," you panted out, making Yunho grin as he heard the nickname you always gave him roll from your tongue in the form of a moan.
"Yunie, Yunie, Yunie!" You moaned as he fucked you with his tongue and occasionally sucked on your clit. "Stay quiet dear, they'll be able to hear us," San smirked as he kissed your neck and fondled your breasts. You saw Seonghwa in the corner of the room, clearly nervous but palming his crotch as he watched Yunho eat your pussy.
"A-Are you not joining in, Seonghwa?" You asked him, as you were kind of hoping he would come closer and pleasure you. He was a little shy, but he nodded and came closer, sitting on your left side. "If we're gonna do this I want all three of you," you said in a husky tone as you kissed his neck and latched your tongue on his sensitive skin.
His brows furrowed and he swallowed thickly, clearly getting harder from your actions. Your hand reached Yunho's dark hair and pulled it slightly. He looked up at you from between your legs and moaned against your pussy as he kept eating you out.
"So when did you start thinking about fucking me?" You panted out as you grinded your sex on Yunho's tongue. "Hmm, for months now," he moaned against your cunt. You moaned out his name again, a little louder this time.
"You want them all to hear, don't you? You want everyone to hear how good Yunie's making you feel?" San smirked. You couldn't even form a proper sentence because Yunho was currently bringing you to fucking paradise on that skilled tongue. Your moans grew louder as your orgasm washed over you, body trembling in San's embrace.
"Fuck, that's so hot," Seonghwa breathed out as he watched Yunho ride out your orgasm, licking your pussy clean. "Yeah? You want in too, hyung?" San smirked. Seonghwa bit his lip and nodded. He really seemed to be a bit more submissive towards the other boys, wondering what he would be like to you.
"Kiss first then," San stated, pulling Seonghwa closer by his neck and crashing their lips together. Fuck. You were squished between them as they made out, your pussy clenching around nothing as you got needier and needier.
Suddenly you felt two of San's thick fingers in your cunt, pushing in and out of you, making you moan out. Seonghwa reached for your pussy too, rubbing your clit with his middlefinger as San kept fucking you with his fingers. You cried out and clenched around their fingers, the pleasure being so good. ''O-Oh my fucking God,'' you moaned out as Seonghwa picked up the pace. This way you could never last long.
Before you knew it you came again, arousal seeping out of you and coating San's fingers. The boys pulled their hands away and ended the kiss and San held his fingers in front of Seonghwa's mouth, ordering him to lick them off. Seonghwa sucked San's fingers clean while looking at him so intensely as you pulled San's underwear down.
San's dick was rather girthy and thick and it nearly made you drool. Wow, fuck. You got on your knees in front of him and Seonghwa followed your lead. ''I think our hyung is a little needy for cock, don't you think?'' Yunho grinned as he sat on one of the chairs, stroking his erection through his underwear. ''Are you needy for cock, Seonghwa hyung?'' San asked, raising his right eyebrow.
Seonghwa's cheeks and ears were red, so embarrassed but God, it was so cute. ''Can I?'' Seonghwa asked with a small voice. ''Hm... What about Y/N then?'' San asked. Seonghwa thought for a few seconds until Yunho showed up naked and sat next to San. ''She can suck my cock first.''
You swallowed thickly as you saw his big cock sitting between his legs. ''Wow,'' you breathed out, ''where the fuck do you hide this thing?'' Yunho laughed and leaned back a little. ''If you suck it well enough I'll let you ride it.'' You nodded and quickly got to work.
Yunho's muscles tensed when he felt your hot, wet mouth swallow his cock. Your head bobbed up and down as you used your hands on the part you couldn't fit in your mouth. The idol threw back his head and moaned out as he watched your 'innocent' eyes look up at him.
Suddenly you heard groaning beside you as well, making you let go of Yunho's cock with a pop and watch the two men in awe. Seonghwa was sucking San's dick as if it were the sexiest porno in existance, it looked and sounded so incredibly sinful.
The slurping sounds and the moans Seonghwa let out as he gagged on San's cock made your pussy throb. San was moaning and thrusting his hips upwards, fucking his hyung's throat. You gasped as Yunho grabbed your by your hair and forced you back down on his cock. You moaned and gagged around his member as he made you choke on it, fucking your mouth just the way San was doing to Seonghwa.
Yunho and San gave each other a glance, smirking as they were abusing your throat's for their pleasure. ''Fuck, that's so good, such a good girl,'' Yunho moaned as he felt his release coming closer. ''Are you gonna cum Yunie?'' San smirked. ''Fuck yeah, gonna paint her throat all white, ah!'' he moaned out as he came deep in your throat, forcing you to swallow his seeds. You let go of his cock with a pop and you panted out.
Seonghwa was still working on San's cock, drool all over his chin and down the base of San's shaft. ''I'm gonna cum in your mouth now and you're gonna fucking take my load,'' San grunted, ''you're gonna fucking take it, okay baby?'' Seonghwa moaned around his cock before swallowing the big load that San released with a loud moan. Seonghwa panted heavily when he got off his wet cock, tears in his eyes. ''That's a good boy,'' San said as he caressed Seonghwa's hair.
''Fuck, this is the hottest thing I've ever experienced,'' you breathed out as you got on Yunho's lap, hands over his toned chest. You pushed him down to lay flat on the bed as you mounted his cock, letting it sink all the way in. You let out a long moan as you felt him stretch you out.
''I-I want all of you, please, all of you at once,'' you whimpered as you bounced lightly on Yunho's length. ''Oh? You want all of us at once? What a naughty little girl,'' Yunho smirked, ''well you heard her boys.'' ''Hm, you're one to like having all her holes filled don't ya?'' San smirked. ''You're not fucking my ass San, do you understand? You're not fucking my ass'' you said, rolling your eyes, knowing about his ass-obsession. San laughed and nodded as he got behind you. ''I promise I won't fuck your ass, only Hwa's.''
San slid his rigid cock right next to Yunho's, deep into your pussy. ''Oh-Oh my God!'' You cried out. ''What about me?'' a now naked Seonghwa asked with his boba eyes. God, those eyes. ''Kiss me,'' you whimpered, pulling him close by his hip. Seonghwa got closer and passionately kissed you on the mouth, driving you inside with his soft lips.
Yunho and San slowly started moving inside you, making you moan into Seonghwa's mouth. You took his long cock in your hand, pumping it up and down slowly, trying to match Yunho and San's pace. Seonghwa moaned along with you and bucked his hips up.
''I had no idea Seonghwa hyung was this filthy,'' Yunho smirked as he rolled his hips up into you. San and Yunho were moving faster, fucking you harder and it felt so good that you could barely keep on kissing Seonghwa. You kept moaning and moaning, eventually breaking the kiss and resting your head against his shoulder. You kept pumping his cock rapidly, earning the most beautiful moans from the boy.
''O-Oh my, you're driving me insane,'' he moaned out. ''Hmm... I always knew he was filthy, I still live with him,'' San smirked before continuing, ''He's always fucking touching himself, fucking himself, listening to us when we're jerking off, he's a little pervert,'' San smirked. Seonghwa could only nodd, whine and moan at San's words,
''I-I'm sorry, I don't wanna be a pervert,'' he cried out, ''I-I just couldn't help it!'' ''It's okay babyboy, it's okay,'' San cooed, ''I'm gonna take care of you after this.''
San's hips thrusted quickly into you, his balls softly clashing against your ass. ''Fuck, you are so good for us,'' Yunho moaned. ''Y-Yes, so good for you, so good for you, I'll fucking let you ruin me whenever you guys want I promise y-you can use my pussy,'' you moaned out. ''Oh? You want us to use your pussy as a good little fucktoy when we're on the road? Well I cannot say no to that.''
''Yes, please, please, please!'' You begged them as you kept working your hand on Seonghwa's cock. He bucked his hips up in the air and started fucking your fist, cumming all over it with a loud moan before he could even announce it.
''What a filthy boy,'' San said, smirking as he pounded into you, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. You let go of Seonghwa's cock as you felt forward onto Yunho's chest, moaning out from the friction you got on your clit. ''Oh look at you, you're close aren't you?'' Yunho said, smirking. ''Y-Yes, Yunie, yes! G-Gonna cum so hard,'' you moaned loudly. San and Yunho thrusted a few more times before they send you over the edge, making you scream out in pleasure.
Only seconds later Yunho came as well, spilling inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out of you and so did San, seeing him watch the three of you by himself. San laid Seonghwa down and smirked at the innocent-looking boy. ''Shall I fill you up now, huh?
''Y-Yes, please, please I've been wanting you for so long,'' he cried out. You and Yunho felt quite fucked out so you laid in his arms as you watched San lube up his dick and slide it into Seonghwa's puckering hole.
''I'm gonna fucking make you scream, hyung,'' he panted out as he let the older one adjust to his size. ''Please, have no mercy on me, I can take it.'' ''I know you can, I've seen that dildo underneath your bed,'' San smirked. Seonghwa's eyes grew wide as San moved inside him, starting off with a rough and fast pace.
He already earned so many sinful, slutty moans from him, making you think that Seonghwa went in the wrong entertainment business cause damn he was sexier and hotter than any pornstar you've ever seen.
''Yeah, you like that baby?'' he smirked as he plunged deeper inside him. San grabbed Seonghwa's cock and jerked it off as he kept fucking him, turning him into a moaning mess. ''I-I'm not gonna last long like this!'' Seonghwa moaned out, ''Your cock is too good, too fucking good!''
San smirked and absolutely went nuts inside him, ramming his cock deep inside him and letting out the most animalistic groans. ''Fuck me, fuck me hard, give me your cum, please!'' Seonghwa begged. With a few more jerks of his hips San released inside Seonghwa, moaning out his name.
Seonghwa moaned louder as he felt his orgasm approach, clenching down on San's cock, milking him dry. San's dom facade slowly broke down as his pleasure took over and watched Seonghwa unravel beneath him, spilling all over his hand and abs.
After getting cleaned up you wished the boys good night before getting back to your own hotelroom, rethinking the shenanigans of earlier and you couldn't help but smile. This was definitely not gonna be the last time this was happening.
What happens in London, doesn't stay back in London. It's comin' back home, you thought.
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twice-inamillion · 1 year
Text
Playing In The Future Home
Fluff and Smut
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1.4 K words
(Jihyo and OC making new memories)
"I can't wait to see where we are going to build our future house," Jihyo said as she looked outside the window. The two of you are on your way to visit the plot of land that you showed her before through FaceTime. 
"Minji gave me the keys to the gate so we can park the car inside and walk around." Jihyo puts up her hands closer, "Look, my hand is shaking from how excited I am right now." 
"Don't be nervous. I know you are going to like it. We are almost there; just a couple more minutes."
You exit the highway and immediately make a left turn. Then drive down the windy road up a small hill and turn right into a private road. Only two hundred feet into a private road filled with trees and bushes, you are met with a large metal gate, "I'm going to open the gate; I'll be right back." Once the gate is open, you drive inside and close the gate around before driving again. The dirty road eventually leads you to a grass-filled field, "we're here." 
The two of you get out of the car; Jihyo walks around for a bit as you get your backpack and binder. "What do you think?"
"It's amazing, and it's big. I love the trees and bushes that surround the entrance." 
"Yes, Minji said that the previous owner fenced the entire estate so their animals wouldn't get out. Makes it easier for us because it ensures our privacy."
 You take out your binder and show Jihyo some sketches that you and Minji worked on for the past two days. "Look, here are some examples of the potential layout," as you point at the 2D view of the whole estate. "This right here is the layout of the entrance layout just came in front, and we are standing here," as you point at the spot you are standing in. "The lot is huge, and it does have a slight hill towards the back and trees throughout the lot. What Minji and I thought was to keep the entrance untouched, just grass and the house in the middle. Because the area has so much space, we have the option of a one-story house that has spread out or a two-story house. We can also have detached buildings like a music room and multiple guest houses away from the main house but still close. We can even have a large pool with a building on its own, but we would need to childproof it. We have a lot of options to make this place perfect. Towards the back of the lot are multiple trees and a small stream that runs across the end of the property." 
The both of you walk around, and Jihyo tries to visualize the house with the binder in her hands. "I like it, and I think the members will be happy. When do you think we can buy it and start building?"
"I talked to Minji about it, and she said that the owner has wanted to sell the property for a while since all his family has moved to the city abroad and has no more use for it. Regarding the building, we can talk to a few contractors and get the permits ready after we buy the property. Shouldn't be too long, but it all depends on the layout of the house."
"The faster, the better; I can just see the babies running around and having fun with each other. I want Jisoo to have a memorable childhood and grow up safe without the eyes of the public on her and the rest."
"She will; just imagine her playing with the twins on a swing or going down the slide. It's going to be perfect." You hold her hand and start to walk, "let me show you the best part." The both of you walk up toward the end of the property, where you see a hill surrounded by numerous trees. There is a special tree that is much older than the rest, and as you both get closer, Jihyo is amazed by its size, "Wow, the tree is huge." 
"The tree isn't the only thing; turn around." Jihyo turns to see a fantastic view of the landscape. Her future is right before her, and the rest of the world is in the background. "Omg, the view is wonderful. Thank you, oppa," hugging you. 
"Everything here is for us, our future. You deserve the whole world, and I will try my best to give you that." Jihyo tears up from happiness, and the both of you share a passionate kiss. 
"Thank you." 
After settling down, you both sit on the blanket and snacks you brought and enjoy a bottle of wine. Jihyo, a good drinker, enjoys the wine more than you and, little by little, gets tipsy. "Oppa, want to mess around a little bit? We're alone, so we can have a little fun," giving you a sexy wink.
"For you, I'm able to go all the way." 
She pushes you down, gets on top of you, and starts to unbutton your shirt. "Don't do anything; I'll take care of everything and just enjoy." With your chest exposed, she kisses every inch of you, "oppa, you have a manly chest; I love it." 
You give a soft moan as she kisses your neck, "Jihyo, it hurts." 
Jihyo looks down and sees the large bulge in your pants, "Oh wow, hard already?"
"It's just that you're too sexy, I can't help it."
She undoes your pants and fishes out your cock. "Don't worry, little fellow; you'll get your turn soon enough." Once she's done with your neck, she stands up and pulls down her leggings and panties. Jihyo sits on your shaft, causing you to moan, "Ahhh, you're bending my cock." 
"Hmmm, I can feel your cock throbbing, but it's not time yet," as she begins to grind on you. The feeling of her lips hugging your cock throws you over the edge, and Jihyo knows it. "How do you like that? You like it when I grind my pussy on your cock?"
"Jihyo, please don't tease; let me put in it." 
"Just a bit longer," as she increases the pace. She puts more of her weight on your cock, causing you to moan in pain. "Fuck, I can feel your hot cock throbbing. You're such a bad boy, but good job on holding on. Here is your reward." 
Jihyo grabs your cock and lifts herself, aligning it to her entrance. You watch as the head of your cock spreads her lips apart, causing you to gasp, "Fuck, you're so tight." She drops her whole weight, and her cunt swallows you whole, "Ahh… fuck, you're cumming already?"
You grab her waist and hold her tight, "take all of my cum!" She places her hands on your chest and digs her nails as she begins to ride you as you cum inside her. "Let it all out; I'll milk you of all you're worth." 
You see her lustful eyes, the eyes of someone who's found her prey. She rides you as you cum, her tits swaying from side to side, "come on baby, do you like how I ride your big cock? Your cock that's filling me up with baby batter. Stay hard for me, okay." 
Jihyo, with her head on your chest, can hear your heavy breathing, she knows that she has you in her hands. "You think you can go for another round?"
“Ye…yeah… I… I can."
She sits back up, ties her hair in a ponytail, looks you in the eyes, and begins to ride you once more. You can help you move your gaze, but she says, "Don't, look at me. You're mine." 
All you hear now is the noise of flesh grinding against each other, Jihyo's tight walls choking your cock. 
She rides you for about five minutes until you cum once, filling her womb with baby batter. "Yeah… just like that. Fill me up with your cum” as she tightens up her cunt. Once she's done milking you for the second, she lifts herself up and lays beside you. 
Haven gotten a happy ending you look at her erect nipple and attach yourself you it. "Aww, my poor baby, there, there. Suck on mommy's tits until you're full, okay" as she caresses your head. You fall asleep attached to her breast as Jihyo hugs you tight in her arms. 
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The Art of Failing [1]
Werewolf!Joel Miller x F!Reader, Vampire!Din Djarin x F!Reader
Series Warnings: violence and mild gore, mentions of blood and injures, reader is described as active and able to fight, eventual smut, loss of a child, angst to fluff, more warnings to come based on individual chapters
Chapter Warnings: anxiety, self doubt, mentions of blood
Word Count: 10,360
Summary: The Division of Mythological Affairs was created to protect and serve the supernatural community while keeping the knowledge of their existence a secret. You hoped to become an Agent of the DMA like your mother before you. Just as your dream begins to fall apart at the seams, you stumble across a missing persons report that could change everything. You are desperate to solve the case, to prove your ability, and you find yourself with unlikely allies⏤ a werewolf running from his pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. The stakes are high, lives are at risk, and success hinges on the three of you learning to work together.
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[a/n: it's here!! i'm so excited to officially share this because it was so much fun to write and i'm even more excited to show y'all the rest]
MIDDAY MADNESS
"failure does not mean your life is over."
Every workplace had that one employee who was deemed irreplaceable. 
The employee who showed up early, went the extra mile, and made the lives of those around them easier. The one who had a passion for their work⏤ who was born to do what they do with a smile on their face. You were that employee. Without you, everything would collapse into chaos and madness. Mayhem would fill your 8-storied workplace to the brim until it was spilling out into the unsuspecting streets of Austin, Texas. Riots would break out. Fire would engulf the city. The world would never know peace. Without you⏤
“Hey, coffee girl!” The sharp, angry voice startled you and the precariously stacked drinks in your hands nearly toppled over. You readjusted your hold on the carriers with a breathy sigh. “Where the hell is my cappuccino?” 
Perhaps calling yourself the most irreplaceable employee here was a bit of a stretch. You were important though. Your job was vital. If it weren’t for you then your co-workers would be caffeine deprived which would lead to headaches which would then lead to mistakes and errors in paperwork which would, eventually and inevitably, lead to worldwide destruction somewhere down the line. You were needed here. You were vital and a necessity. At least, that’s what you told yourself over and over in the form of a mental mantra. It was either that or get caught in the abysmal, black hole your life seemed to be right now.
“Here you go, sir.” You angled the carrier so he could scoop up the cup on the far left. The man yanked his cup away hastily, nearly knocking over the other drinks again, and rushed away without even so much as a ‘thank you’. You pressed your lips together in annoyance.
You were vital. You were vital. You were vital.
With a brief pause to piece your patience back together, you pasted on a broad smile and began to continue your morning deliveries. For two years, you had been taking coffee and lunch orders, scheduling meetings, running errands, and doing basically every other busy work task put on your plate. It was exhausting, both mentally and emotionally, but it was the price to pay. You wouldn't take this kind of treatment anywhere else and the only reason you still put up with it was because it was just a stepping stone.
Today you were a glorified assistant.
Tomorrow you would be an Agent.
An Agent of the Division of Mythological Affairs.
It was a title not many held and was exclusive for a number of reasons. The DMA was established decades ago to police and protect the supernatural community. It was the responsibility and duty of the DMA to keep the peace amongst the community while also keeping said community secret from the rest of humanity. Knowing that the monsters of myth and legend were real was privileged information. The only reason you were clued in was because of your mother. She had been an Agent herself years ago and you grew up surrounded by supernatural forces. Hell, your childhood best friend was a forest nymph. 
As you grew older, you grew more passionate about the world you were blessed to know and the dream to walk in your mother’s footsteps took root. You trained and you studied, desperate to make the world a better place, and thus far all you had succeeded in was mastering the skill of carrying four drink carriers without dropping them.
After delivering the final cup of coffee, you made your way up to the eighth floor. There was about fifteen minutes before you had to get down to the lobby for your next task of the day, and you planned to spend it begging. You greeted familiar faces as you passed them. The separation of labor could be seen in the change of clothes as you got to the higher floors. Everyone you passed now were dressed in nice and expensive suits. It was the upper levels that housed the policy makers⏤ more politician than soldier. 
The eighth floor was the nicest of them all with open windows that let in natural light. There were no ugly cubicles littering the bulk of it. Instead, modern and sleek furniture sat around the space and private offices were housed here. 
“Hey, have you seen Captain Roberts?” You asked Stacey, one of the secretaries you saw in meetings every once in a while, and she didn’t even lift her eyes up from the magazine she was flipping through. She just pointed to the right towards a hall of offices. You mumbled a thanks and continued on. There were a few different Captains who worked in this sector of the DMA, but Captain Roberts was in charge of the Agents and Analysts you worked with most often.
You were halfway down the hall when an unfamiliar, armored figure stepped out of the conference room to leave. Mandalorian. Your pace stuttered in shock as you stared wide eyed at the intimidating man stalking toward you. There were too many vampire covens to count, but a few were infamous enough to merit memorizing.
The Mandalorians were one of them.
Their signature being the impenetrable armor they wore at all times⏤ faces they never revealed to anyone. It wasn’t unusual to see a Mandalorian or two wandering around the building. They occasionally worked contracts with the DMA picking up on bounties. Not all DMA sanctioned bounty hunters were Mandalorian, but the best undoubtedly were. You didn’t recognize this one though.
His all silver armor was haunting and his gait spoke to strength and skill. He was close enough now that you could see your wide, staring eyes in the reflection of his visor, and you forced yourself to snap your gaze to the floor as you passed. The air was tense around him, it followed him like a dark cloud, and his heavy boots stormed past you without pause. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder to watch him a second more. His worn out cloak whipped around him at the pace he marched out with and a few suited men practically leapt out of his way to avoid being in his path. 
You let out a low whistle and turned back towards the conference room he had just left. Being on the radar of a Mandalorian had to be a fate worse than death, and you pitied whoever had pissed off that one. Outside the conference room door, you adjusted your work blazer and took a steadying breath. You were vital, this organization was lucky to have you, and you would be an Agent if it were the last thing you did. You rapped your knuckles against the door and waited until a deep voice called out for you to enter. 
Inside the room were three others. They sat at an elongated conference table centered in the room with their backs to Austin street views out the floor to ceiling windows. On the wall across from the windows were large screens designed for calls and it looked like one had just ended. Of the three people in the room, you only recognized one. Captain Roberts, a gruff man in his late sixties, stood at the head of the table with a few folders and papers spread out in front of him. He was built like a grizzly bear and had the temperament of one as well. The red of his beard was graying and you still hadn’t gotten used to his bald head quite yet.  He used to have hair thick and long enough to braid, but when his hair started to recede he chose instead to just lose it all.
“If that’s all, I have other matters to attend to.” Captain Roberts cleared his throat and motioned toward you. It was a dismissal on his part, and you stepped closer while the two other suited individuals packed up their belongings to leave. The second they were out of sight, Roberts groaned. “Perfect timing, kid. I hate dealing with Olympus representatives.”
Your jaw fell open and you pointed to the door, “Those were…” You had never met the souls responsible for carrying the messages and words of the gods and goddesses back down to Earth. “Really?”
“Try not to look so excited. The gods are dicks and they live to make my job more difficult.”
“You say that about everybody.” You replied and wandered over to stand by him. Your eyes darted down to the papers scattered on the table. It looked like a missing person report. “I saw a Mandalorian in here earlier.” The report looked like it was talking about a child. You narrowed your eyes and pulled it closer. The Mandalorian was reporting his own missing child. A young boy who had disappeared overnight. “Why were you meeting with a Mandalorian and Olympus representatives over a missing kid?”
Roberts snatched away the reports to tuck them into a folder with a chastising glare. “I didn’t. I was meeting with the representatives when the Mandalorian burst in. Kind of like you did.”
“You were happy with my interruption a few seconds ago.” You argued. Roberts gave you a tired glare, and you nodded toward the folders in his hands. “You know I was talking to Hannah downstairs a few days ago and she was telling me that the number of missing kids has skyrocketed this last month in comparison to previous months.”
Roberts grunted, “What have I told you about being nosy?”
“Maybe I could help.” You offered. “I could⏤” Roberts scoffed out your name with a shake of his head and made a beeline for the door. You scrambled after him. “Roberts, come on. Please.” 
“You came all this way up to beg me about a missing persons case?”
“Well, I actually came to beg you about applying for the Agent qualifications exam, but I’m not picky about what I beg for. I’ll take what I can get.”
“No.”
“Roberts⏤”
“I said, no.”
You locked your jaw in annoyance as you both climbed into the elevator. In order to sign up for the qualifications exam you needed the approval of a Captain. It seemed no matter how many times you begged Roberts to write you the letter of recommendation allowing you to sit for the test, he always had some excuse to say no. Any Captain’s letter would do the job and you could technically find another to badger about this, but you were the stubborn kind. Captain Roberts had been the one to qualify your mother, and you wanted him to be the one to qualify you too. 
“If you just gave me a chance,” You snapped, “I could do it.”
“We’re not getting into this again.”
“Give me a real reason then!”
Roberts glared at you with a look that would have anyone else cowering or running for the hills. You could see beyond the anger and frustration. Beyond the huff and glowering. Underneath all the rough Captain bravado was someone who cared, but right now it was infuriating. Roberts rubbed his bald head and shook it with disdain, “Your mother wouldn’t want you risking your life like she did.” It felt like your heart had stopped in your chest. Of all the excuses he had plied you with in the past this was the first time he used your mother as one. “She would want better for you.”
“Don’t.” You whispered.
“You’re a bright girl. You say the word and I can get you a job in research. You would be a hell of an Analyst⏤”
“I don’t want to be an Analyst! I want to be⏤” 
The elevator doors dinged open and you both grew silent. A small group shuffled onto the elevator making small talk. You stood stiff and straight, arms crossed over your chest, while Roberts pouted on his side of the elevator as well. Three floors down and the group dispersed leaving you alone with the Captain once more.
“You can do better than this, kid.” Roberts said firmly. “You have your whole life ahead of you.”
“This. This is what I want for my life.” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again. You just stared at the numbers at the top of the elevator door, each lighting up as you got closer and closer to the ground floor. “I just wanna help people like mom did.”
“There are other ways to do that.”
The elevator reached the bottom floor and you finally turned to Roberts, “Are you going to approve me for the exam or not?”
Roberts held your gaze for a moment, sadness seeping into his blue eyes, and he sighed, “No. No, I’m not.”
You bobbed your head once, biting back the burning threat of tears prickling at your eyes, and you hurried out of the elevator. Roberts called out after you, making others near the elevator doors glance in your direction, but you didn’t pause in your stride. 
There was a small cubicle, amongst a sea of others, down a hall connected from the lobby that you called your own. It was tiny, just big enough to house a computer and a bit of desk space for you to stack busy work all over, but it was yours. The cubicle wall was decorated with pictures of friends, family, and a spattering of Halloween decorations you had put up for the upcoming holiday.
You dropped into the seat, Roberts’ denial ringing in your ears, and your eyes landed on one photo in particular. It was your high school graduation and your mother had her arms wrapped around you proudly as you both beamed at the camera. The sight of it made your stomach turn and without thought you tugged it off the wall where it hung to stick in a drawer. Your mother was a hero who changed so many lives, and you could only wonder what she would think if you now⏤ sitting at a cubicle buried in busy work and covered in coffee stains.
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You had buried yourself in errands and paperwork to distract from the bitter rejection of Captain Roberts. The small voice at the back of your mind whispered that all you had to do was seek out a separate Captain for your letter of recommendation. You knew for a fact that the Captain who worked the neighboring district handed out letters like candy. They had the mindset that the test would weed out the ones who didn’t deserve to be there, and you were confident you could pass. It was a quick and easy solution, but it felt too much like cheating in your eyes. 
A part of you wished you could kick your pride to the curb. A dream was a dream, right? It didn’t matter how you got there as long as you got there. You blew out an irritated breath of air and leaned back in your seat to stretch your spine. No matter how many times you repeated those words in your head they didn’t seem to stick. 
“Hey, pumpkin.” A voice drawled from behind you, and the condescending tone of it immediately made your blood pressure rise. Slowly, you turned in your seat to face the bane of your existence. Agent Miles Jackson was average in height but constantly acted as if he were compensating for something or another. You assumed it was his lack of a bearable personality. The weight of his stare gave his brown eyes a beady quality and his thin lipped smile could only be described as smarmy. He winked at you and the urge to gouge his eyes out washed over you. “What’re you doing here?”
You furrowed your brow, “Working. I know that’s an unfamiliar concept to you.”
“Ha ha. Funny.” Miles snorted. “I meant, why the hell are you still here and not picking up my lunch?” You opened your mouth to complain, but he cut in. “I want my usual from that sandwich place right down the road. The faster the better.”
“Miles⏤”
The man turned on his heel and began to march away before letting you say another word. You glared at his back where his light blue, wrinkled button up shirt was untucked from his one size too small dress pants. You just wanted to throw something at the back of his head. With a huff, you pushed to stand and grabbed your purse from the drawer under your desk. Between the morning you had and dealing with Miles, you were seriously going to need a drink tonight.
It took no time at all to pick up the food. You called ahead on your walk, and the workers there knew you fairly well as a regular. When you got back to the building there was a commotion in the lobby. More people than normal were milling about and a steady flow of people were streaming out of the first floor bullpen⏤ the exact place you were heading. You slipped through the crowd and as you got closer and closer to where Miles’ desk was the noise began to increase.
“⏤'nd you’re not fuckin’ listenin’ to me!” 
The words reverberated into the hall stopping you dead in your tracks. Calling it a yell would be underselling the wall of sound that slammed into you. It was a roar⏤ earth shattering, enraged, and excruciating. You rushed into the bullpen, hand clutched tight to the to-go bag of food, and gazed over a sea of desks. The bullpen was where most Agents worked day to day. Usually, the routine tasks involved speaking to concerned citizens or interviewing suspects. A good bulk of the work involved filing reports when not out on the streets working on a case. However, the room was nearly empty and continued to get even emptier as people rushed past you. At the center, with the agent you were looking for, was a man you didn’t recognize. 
He was gruff with broad shoulders covered in a worn out flannel. A peppering of gray littered the thick, dark hair atop his head and even spilled into the scruff on his face. The clear details that could be seen from a mile away was the redness in his face, the vein protruding along his neck as he yelled, and the rage simmering in his dark eyes. His anger was volatile and palpable. Your focus seemed to zoom in on the flash of pain, and once you saw it… it was all you could see. This was a man suffering. Amongst all that rage was heart wrenching fear and agony.
“Sir⏤”
“Don’ you fuckin’ ‘sir’ me.” The man snapped and shoved at Agent Jackson. “You son of a bitch, listen⏤”
Miles pointed in his face and the man snarled in response. “Don’t you take a tone with me. Do you know who I am?!” You got closer and you could see the man’s canines lengthen and his brown eyes flickered in shades of a burning gold. Wolf. He was a werewolf. Genetically speaking, there were hundreds of lineages from the initial werewolf. Unlike vampires, who were similar regardless of the coven, wolves differed. Based on what you could see here, this guy was probably from a local pack. The ones around here didn’t necessarily need the full moon and their emotions controlled a lot of their abilities. Miles ran a hand through his hair with a huff, “Now, Mr. Miller, we have your statement. If you’ll be patient with us⏤”
“Are you fuckin' kiddin' me right now with this bullshit!?”
You weren’t sure how this guy got stuck talking to the least empathetic and least helpful Agent in the entire building, but your heart went out to him. While Miles rattled off a long winded excuse, you crept forward to set the food on his desk and your eyes landed on an open report. The wolf’s name was Joel Miller, and as your eyes scanned the page you understood his rage.
“Your daughter is missing?” You gasped. Both men snapped their gazes at you. Miles glared at your intrusion, but Joel’s narrowed eyes held more questioning than rage toward you. You picked up the report to read the details, but all you could think of were the other missing children cases⏤ the Mandalorian this morning and his missing child. The report in your hand was poorly written which you expected of Miles. “When did you last see⏤”
“I already took his statement.” Miles snapped at you.
Joel, on the other hand, pointed his finger at the file with a glare, “Does it not say it in there??” Sensing the tension, you were hesitant to nod your head. Joel filled in the blanks though and snarled at Miles. “You fuckin' bastard. Are you not takin' this seriously!? She's a kid! She's only fourteen! I swear to the Gods, I’ll⏤”
“I assure you that we have what we need.” Miles snatched the report from your hands. “You’ll have to excuse my assistant. She isn’t trained." You sucked in a sharp breath, your own rage beginning to bubble up, at his words. As if you needed extensive training to read a piece of paper. “Pumpkin, you’re excused.”
“I’m not your assistant.” You spat at him. “Have you considered the other missing kids?”
Joel’s eyes widened, “'Scuse me?”
Miles scoffed and shook his head to glare at you, “That has nothing to do with⏤”
“And there was a Mandalorian here this morning whose kid disappeared overnight.”
Miles chuckled and the sound pissed you off further. It had the same effect on Joel Miller who looked close to shifting into his wolf form to leap across the desk and maul the man. Miles motioned toward you, “Well, that’s it then. Mandalorian.” You furrowed your brow. “I would bet my money on this being a blood feud. Wolves vs fangs.”
You shook your head, “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“The wolves took the vampire kid, and in retaliation the vampires took the wolf’s kid.” Miles argued confidently. He turned to Joel and gave a slight shrug while scooping up the bag of food you had brought for him. “We will look into the matters, and we will call you with further information.”
“That’s it? You’ll call me?” Joel yelled. The wolf slapped the bag of food out of Miles’ hand and to the ground. “My daughter is fuckin' missin' 'nd that’s all you’re gonna give me right now!?”
Miles slammed his hand against his desk while staring at his lost meal. His glare toward the wolf deepened, a move you found to be hilarious considering Miles was far from intimidating, but you watched as his hand went to his hip where his service weapon rested. Your eyes widened and you set a hand on Miles’ chest to draw his attention to you.
“Stop.” You warned. “That’s a bad idea.” Miles locked his jaw and you tried to defuse the situation. “This isn’t right. Your theory is wrong. A wolf pack would never use a kid as a bargaining token in some rivalry.” You scoffed. “And the Mandalorians are the only vampire coven to allow children in their ranks. They literally adopt kids off the street to raise and care for. But you think they kidnapped a wolf’s child?”
Miles suddenly grabbed you by the arm roughly and squeezed hard enough to make you wince. The sound of a low warning growl filled the air, but all your attention was focused on the loathing rage in Miles’ eyes. He seemed… unhinged, somehow. With his other hand, Miles pointed a finger in your face. “Listen to me, pumpkin.” He snapped. “You need to stop playing ‘Agent’. You’re a bookish errand girl who has no idea what she’s talking about or trying to get involved in.” His words stung even more with Captain’s Roberts’ rejection still ringing fresh in your mind. “It’s pathetic how desperate you are to be an agent like your mommy. Especially considering, you’ll never be what she was. You’ll never be more than the useless, desperate⏤” 
Your hand curled into a fist and lashed out before you had even a second to think. Miles’ nose crunched under your now throbbing knuckles and blood splattered down his blue shirt. He cried out in pain and you stiffened in realization at what you had done. “You bitch! I’ll get you fired for this!”
Angry, embarrassed, and frustrated, you spun on your heel to rush away. Miles was still hollering behind you in a rage and before leaving the room you gave one last glance over your shoulder. The goal was to glare at Miles or admire the new shape of his nose, but as if pulled by an unseen force your gaze landed directly on Joel. Once you made eye contact with the wolf, there was no looking away. There was a haunting power in the way he stared back and it seemed to singe a hole through your very being, and you could feel his agony⏤ his devastation and desperation. The embarrassment you felt grew as you realized you were useless to him. Just like Miles said. You mouthed a quick apology and left in a hurry.
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Downtown Austin had a district for the supernatural. Not that any human knew that it was for the supernatural specifically. With the right words, a person could find themselves in underground Austin where a market and community lay hidden. As you saw no reason to sit around and wait for the consequences of your actions to find you, you climbed into your car to drive across the city to see a friend. Once parked, it took no time at all to find your favorite bar. It was one owned by a witch and open to any and all who were interested.
Despite being underground, ‘Lucille's’ did not feel closed off or stuffy. The ceiling was high, a spell cast to mimic the natural lighting for the time of day, and the walls and furniture were decorated in greenery making the room feel like a clearing in a forest. Usually when you were here it was late evening or night time so the bar would be lit accordingly, but as it was literally 2 in the afternoon it was pure midday sunlight that shone down on you.
The bar wasn’t empty. A number of patrons sat around enjoying a casual lunch or drink, but you weaved through the tables to make your way to the actual bar. It was made of thick mahogany wood and glass. Behind the bar, the shelf was lined with liquors and raw materials. Jars filled with dragon scales, phoenix feathers, wormwood, and any other ingredient that could be used for spells or drinks. There was a glow from behind the shelf itself that shifted in a swirling of soft colors. 
As you sat down on a cushioned bar stool, you saw a familiar forest nymph walking out of the back carrying a box. Her pale green skin was accented by a darker, vine like pattern that encircled her limbs and torso⏤ made even more clear to see due to the loose, white tank top she wore. Her vibrant pink hair was pulled back into two buns atop her head and littered with yellow and blue flowers. She dropped the box with a grunt and her brown eyes landed on you in shock.
“Whoa! What’re you doing here??” 
“Hey, Nima.” 
“You here for lunch?”
“Not exactly.” You gave her a tight lipped smile as she bounced over with a bright grin. She stood close enough that you could see the slight movements of the vine-like pattern on her skin and it must have been close enough for her to see the misery in your features. Before she could begin her interrogation, you lifted your dominant hand to nod toward your bruised knuckles. “Can I have an ice pack?”
Nima wrapped a handful of ice in a rag for you to set on your hand and listened quietly as you told her about your day from start to finish.
“First off, I’m making you a stiff drink.” Nima grabbed a glass and she knew your preferences enough that you didn’t need to say a word. “Secondly, after you down this we’re getting in my car and we’re gonna go kill Agent ‘Shit for Brains’.” Your lips twitched up in amusement. “Thirdly⏤”
“How many bullet points are in this pep talk?” You asked. “Just so I can keep track.”
“You would make a gods damn brilliant Agent.” Nima paused in drink making to point at you. “I don’t care what anyone else says.” She shook the metal tumbler three times before pouring the drink in the martini glass. The light pink liquid bubbled and fizzed. She set it in front of you and you raised an eyebrow at the glittering light that shimmered from the bubbles that popped in it. Nima shrugged, “So, I added a joy charm to your drink. Sue me.”
The corner of your lip twitched up and you didn’t hesitate to bring the drink to your lips. The fizzing bubbles of the joy charm tickled your mouth and it reminded you of eating pop rocks as a kid. Unlike the pop rocks, it left an immediate light hearted buzz in your brain that made the glow of the lights around you seem a little bit brighter. Coming here had been the right decision. Between the drinks and Nima’s threats against Miles’ life you were feeling a bit better.
Nima stayed with you chatting for a while longer, but when a group of elves noisily wandered in she had to veer away to serve them. You finished the last of your drink, pushed the glass aside, and then folded your arms to lean on the bar with a hum. The joy charm left your brain with the happy buzz, but your heart still felt heavy. All you wanted to do in life was help others, like your mom had, and now you were going to get fired. You couldn’t even provide support for the people who were helping others.
So much for being vital.
You absentmindedly began to count the bottles on the expansive shelf in hopes to keep your mind occupied until Nima could come back and distract you. It was around 116 that you felt somebody sit on the stool right beside you. Any annoyance you felt at a stranger picking a seat so close to you when there were so many other open stools was muted by the effects of the joy charm. You continued to count and at 200 the stranger said your name.
Eyes wide, you turn your head and the sight of Joel Miller’s glare you jumped in surprise, “Gods!” You were sitting up now, half hanging off your stool, while gripping the edge of the bartop. “What are you… How do you know my name??”
“I asked 'round.” Joel replied gruffly. Unsure of what to say, you bobbed your head awkwardly. He had his arm resting on the bar as he faced you, and his hand was balled up in a tight fist. The wolf was wound up tight⏤ ready to snap at the slightest provocation. “Now tell me more 'bout the Mandalorian.”
You scrunched your nose, still in disbelief that this wolf followed you in the first place, “Um, DMA restricts me from giving out the information of someone else. I’m not really supposed to do it without going through the proper channels.”
“Yeah, well, you don’ really got a job anymore, far as I can tell.”
“I still have a job. I haven’t been fired.” You countered with a nod then mumbled. “Yet.”
Joel leaned in closer and you stiffened at his growl, “You think my Ellie missin' has somethin' to do with the Mandalorian?”
You assumed that was the name of his daughter. “I can’t say anything for certain. I mean, I don’t know anything⏤”
“You knew more than that bonehead Agent.”
“That’s not hard.” You mumbled with a quiet snort. Joel did not seem amused and continued to burn through you with his gaze. You cleared your throat and nodded. “All I know is the number of missing persons cases involving children has been higher this last month than usual, and some Mandalorian is missing his own kid.” Joel gave a slight nod and you could see the wheels turning in his head. You shrugged, “But I don’t think it’s the feud between wolves and vampires doing this. I know that’s what Miles assumed but… I just have this weird feeling that⏤ that something else is going on.”
Joel clenched his jaw before speaking, “Why?”
“I don’t know.” You sighed, defeated. “I don’t have evidence or a good reason. It’s just a... gut instinct.”
You squirmed under Joel’s continued gaze until he finally looked away. He turned in his seat to face forward and now you were the one staring. With how tense the wolf was, he looked to be made of stone. A handsome statue wearing a scowl that could fill even the gods with a chill. 
Nima bounced back over and gave Joel a skeptical glance. She raised an eyebrow at you in question and you waved your hand in front of your neck to signal her to leave him alone. Nima scooped up your empty glass and carried it away. 
“Where is he?”
Your head snapped back to Joel, eyes wide, “Sorry?”
“Where is the Mandalorian?” Joel demanded slowly. “I wanna talk to 'im.”
“I⏤I have no idea, man.” A laugh of disbelief left your lips. “The local Mandalorian coven is a mystery. They’re more tight lipped than any other coven I’ve heard about. Only a few people even know where they hide.”
Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s all you got for me?”
You scoffed, “I’m sorry. If I had known you were going to stalk me out of the building⏤” Joel rolled his eyes with a huff. “⏤then I would’ve prepared accordingly. My bad.” 
Joel hissed a curse under his breath. His eyes closed and a hand rubbed his jawline before resting over his mouth⏤ attempting to settle himself, you assumed. You glanced over at Nima who was staring at you in concern and you gave her a quick nod and pointed to the wolf beside you. A few moments later, Nima came over and placed a glass of dark liquor in front of you. She mouthed the words, ‘You good?’, and you gave her a tight lipped smile. She shot Joel another wary glance before moving over to her other customers. 
You cleared your throat and pushed the drink in Joel’s direction. He opened his eyes and stared down at the drink. Joel sniffed the air then furrowed his brow, “That’s Lavagulin.” You shrugged. That sounded right, but you didn’t know the dark liquor types well enough to confirm it. His gaze turned skeptical and paranoid, “How do you know my drink of choice?”
“Oh, I don’t.” You held your hands in surrender. “Nima does.” You pointed to the forest nymph who was flipped a tumbler with a broad grin. “I don’t know how she does it, but she can guess anybody’s drink of choice. I’ve never seen her fail.” Joel stared for a second more before picking up the drink and taking a long sip of it. You rubbed the back of your neck nervously. “Listen, I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. I wish I could help.”
Joel didn’t respond to your comfort and just continued to drink. You briefly considered calling Captain Roberts. Miles had probably already gone to the man to snitch on you for breaking his nose. There was no way you wouldn’t get canned for the attack, even the Captain couldn’t protect you from that, but somebody should know that Miles was out of line with a citizen. Joel Miller needed real help to find his daughter, and gods knew that Agent Miles Jackson wasn’t going to be of any use. As the thought crossed your mind, you tilted your head. Help. Joel needed help.
“I could help.” You blurted out loud.
“What?” Joel was nearly finished with his drink.
“I could help!” You repeated. Why hadn’t you thought about this before? Joel needed help, and you needed to prove that this was a job you were more than capable of. “My mom was an Agent⏤ one of the best. She had all these connections and…” Joel was now facing you entirely as he had turned in his seat. For the first time since you met him, you saw more than just anger, panic, and pain in his eyes. There was a flicker of hope. You shot him a smile. “I think I can find out where the Mandalorian coven is.”
Joel leaned forward on his seat, “Where?”
“We need to go to my apartment. There’s a journal with a map.” You jumped up and began to root through your bag for your wallet. 
“What’s going on?” Nima came back over. “You leaving?”
“Yeah, it’s a⏤ it’s a long story.” 
“Everything alright though?”
You huffed when you couldn’t find your wallet, “What? Yeah, no. It’s fine. Just give me a second. I think my wallet is buried under here somewhere.”
Nima shook her head with a frown, “I’m not taking your money.”
“What’re you talking about?” You demanded.
“You don’t have a job. I’m not taking your money, babe.” You winced at her half true comment. The DMA didn’t pay you all that great anyways considering your position wasn’t super high on the career ladder. But then again, if you solved this case and proved your worth then you could be the Agent you knew you were capable of being. Suddenly, Joel held out a few folded bills. Your eyes widened, but Nima snatched the money from his hands with a smirk. “You on the other hand, I can very much take money from.”
Joel ushered you out of the bar as Nima waved after you and demanded you call her later. The wolf said he’d follow behind you in his own truck which you figured he wouldn’t have a problem with considering he had done it once before. You just prayed the plan you had in mind was actually going to pan out.
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If you had known you’d have a near feral werewolf sitting in your living room this afternoon, you would’ve cleaned up a little better before leaving in the morning. You scrambled through your room searching for the journal that you knew was somewhere around here.
“You got it, yet?” Joel barked from the other room.
“Almost! Just⏤ Just hang on!”
Finally, you found the journal buried under a stack of papers on your desk. You mumbled your relief and immediately began to flip through the journal pages searching for something that could point you in the direction of the Mandalorians. You knew for a fact that your mother had a connection⏤ either directly or indirectly. You managed to find the vague map scribbled out midway through the journal. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had ten minutes ago. You took a quick picture of it with your phone and began to leave your room only to pause. Frozen in place, your eyes darted over to your bedside drawer. After a second of contemplation, you hurried over and pulled out the handgun tucked away for safekeeping. The only ammunition you had was regular bullets and silver ones. Neither would help against a vampire, especially a Mandalorian vampire decked out in ceremonial armor, but the idea of having it on you brought some semblance of comfort. You tugged on your shoulder holster and triple checked the weapon before safely tucking it in place. The last two things you grabbed before leaving your room was a jacket to wear over the holster, keeping it mostly hidden, and your mother’s old badge.
When you stepped out into the living room, Joel was standing and staring at a few pictures on your wall. His eyebrows were drawn together, deep in thought, as his attention was focused in on a picture of you and your mother from when you were a child.
You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped back to you. You opened your mouth to explain the picture, but Joel closed the space between the two of you back on target, “Where is it? The coven?”
“Here.” You opened your phone to point to the picture you had taken.
Joel narrowed his eyes, “That’s all you got? You don’ got an address or somethin'?”
“An address?” You scoffed. “They live underground in the middle of nowhere. Sorry I don’t have a PO box to type into google for you. We can find it with this. Let’s go⏤”
“We??”
You set your hands on your hips with narrowed eyes, “Yeah, we.”
“You’re not goin'.”
“I’m not letting you and your pack stampede into a vampire coven!”
“I don’ have a pack.” Joel shook his head, and you tried to hide your surprise. “I work better alone. Now give me the map.”
“Fine,” You corrected, “I’m not letting a lone werewolf storm a vampire coven.”
“And how is addin' a human to the mix gonna tip the odds in my favor, sweetheart?” Joel scoffed and motioned to you.
“For one, they won’t kill me on sight for being a werewolf.” You argued. “And two,” You pulled the badge out of your pocket and flashed it to him, “I’m an impartial party. A peacekeeper.”
Joel snarled, “If they do have my kid for some reason, I don’ plan on keepin' the peace.”
“Yeah, see, that sentence proved my point. You need me.”
Joel opened his mouth to argue more, and you were fully prepared to counter anything he threw your way, but then he surprised you by locking his jaw and giving you a stiff nod. You hadn’t actually expected that to work. Joel turned to leave your apartment with a grunt and you hurried after him.
“Also, we’re taking my car.”
After another short lived argument, you managed to wrestle Joel into your vehicle. According to the map, the coven was just outside Austin city limits, truly in the middle of nowhere, and it would take at least an hour to get in the vicinity. Then you’d have to search for it further. The drive was just as awkward as you would’ve guessed it to be. Joel didn't seem like the type of man who enjoyed small talk even on a good day let alone right now. Unfortunately, the more nervous you got the more you seemed to want to talk.
“So, can I ask you something?” You blurted.
“No.”
“Oh.”
An even more tense silence filled the air between the two of you as you focused on the road ahead. Joel sighed and shook his head, “What?”
“You said you don’t have a pack.” You continued on with your line of questioning despite the lackluster permission he gave.
“Is there a question somewhere in there?”
“Is it true?” You asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a werewolf without a pack.”
“Well, now you have. Congrats.” Joel replied dryly. 
Your cellphone began to vibrate and the name ‘Captain Roberts’ flashed on the screen. You ignored the call, “So, it’s just you and your family then?”
“It’s me 'nd Ellie. That’s it.” Joel grunted. He shrugged after a beat, “Got a brother too but he’s still in the pack. Tried to leave when I did, but I convinced him not to.”
“Oh, so you left on your own.” You voiced the thought aloud. Your phone began to vibrate again. ‘Captain Roberts’. Ignore. “Why…” You were very, very curious as to why a werewolf would willingly leave his pack to be on his own⏤ or on his own with his daughter, you should say. But, it seemed too personal for you to pry into. “What’s Ellie like?”
Joel paused in thought. “She’s smart, but she’s also trouble. Bit of a little shit.” There was a small smile on his face as he said the words. “Obsessed with these stupid jokes 'nd puns.”
“She sounds fun.” You chuckled. “You said she was fourteen?” Joel nodded once. For the third time, your phone began to vibrate and you hit the ignore button with more force than needed. “What⏤”
“You ain't gonna answer that?” Joel questioned.
“No.” You shook your head. “It’s just gonna be a long conversation about disappointment and it’ll probably end in my termination. Roberts, the Captain, likes me, but Miles⏤ the Agent whose nose I broke⏤ he’s kind of a big deal.”
Joel scoffed, “He’s a big deal?”
“Not in a ‘good at his job’ way. More in a ‘my daddy owns you’ kind of way.”
“Got it.”
“Yeah, when he said he was gonna get me fired he meant it.” You sighed. “It’s all about knowing the right people, and he’s related to the right people so it’s even worse.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“You’re telling me.” You mumbled with a sigh. This time there was a notification about a voicemail being left along with the missed calls. That was not a message you were eager to listen to. The rest of the drive passed in silence, but it wasn’t as tense as the start of the trip. You drove your car off road where the map suggested. The map had a shaded portion where the coven supposedly was, and you prayed they hadn’t recently moved. You drove, scanning for some kind of the symbol drawn on the map, and when Joel spotted it carved into a tree you parked the car. “So, you’re not going to like what I’m going to say…”
“Then don’ say it.”
“I think you should stay with the car.” You said it anyways.
Joel stared at you as if you had grown a second head, “Are you outta your gods damned mind? I’m not sittin' here 'nd waitin'⏤”
“If it’s me alone I can talk to them as an Agent of the DMA and question⏤”
“You’re not an Agent.”
“I’m also not a werewolf.” You snapped. Joel had his jaw locked so tight that you could hear him grinding his teeth against one another. You held a hand out towards him to plead your case. “I’m not gonna say that I get it because I don’t have a kid. I could never fully understand how you feel right now, but… Joel, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you find Ellie. If we go in together it’ll stir them up, but maybe if I’m alone they’ll stay calm enough to answer some questions. I’m not a threat to them. I’m just a dumb human, after all.”
Joel turned away and rubbed his face. The exhaustion and frustration were clear to see. He sighed, “Fine. You have twenty minutes. Twenty minutes 'nd then I’m goin' after you whether you like it or not.”
“Deal.” You agreed.
You reached over him, he stiffened at the closeness, but you mumbled an apology and rooted through your glove compartment. There was a small, travel bottle of perfume that Nima had tucked away for you. It was one you never used, a bit too strong for your liking, but she was adamant about keeping it around in case of emergent night outs when you needed to get ready on the go. There was a collection of hair products and makeup tucked somewhere in your back seat too.
After finding it, you opened the car door and began to spray it all over yourself. It took only two squirts of the bottle when Joel began to cough. He rubbed his nose with a deep frown, “What the fuck are you doin'?”
“I’m trying to get the smell of wolf off of me.”
“You’re ruinin' your scent.” Joel grumbled with no further elaboration. You sprayed yourself three more times just to be sure, and ended up hacking up a long yourself as the strong floral scent hit you like a truck. Joel chuckled, “See?”
“Here’s to hoping the Mandalorians hate how I smell too. I’ll be right back.”
You closed the driver’s side door and marched out to walk past the tree with the carving. Joel called out after you, and when you glanced over your shoulder you saw he had rolled the window down. Joel nodded once, “Careful, sweetheart.”
With a reassuring smile, you gave him a thumbs up that he shook his head at before rolling the window back up. Your reassuring smile falter once you faced away from him and you steeled your nerves as you pressed into the thick of the trees. You could do this. You could handle this. You were vital.
The goal was to follow the trail of carved symbols in the trees. It drove you deeper into the forest and after finding four more you noticed that the path had looped you into a circle so you were back in front of symbol three. Worry briefly flooded your senses as you thought you may have taken a wrong turn and time was ticking down. Joel would be kicking down your car door to come find you and gods knew with the amount of perfume you wore it wouldn’t be hard. 
You blew out an annoyed breath and kept on, but you only got a few feet further when a figure suddenly loomed in front of you. 
“Gods!” You cried and scrambled back a few steps. The Mandalorian in front of you was towering in height and immensely broad. He wore navy pieces of armor, and you couldn’t fathom how someone so large and dressed in so much metal could be so loud. He stood still, like a statue, and his blank helmet stared down at you. Quickly, you readjusted your stance and cleared your throat. With as much confidence as you could muster, you pulled out the badge and flashed it at him⏤ introducing yourself as an Agent with your last name. “I’m with the DMA, and I’d like you to take me to your leader.” You winced as the words came out awkward. “I mean, I’d like to speak with someone on a missing persons case. I believe it would be in the benefit of your coven. Is there someone in charge I can speak to?”
The Mandalorian said nothing and you tucked your badge back into your pocket. You weighed the pros and cons of opening your mouth again, but before you could come to a conclusion he held his hand out toward you. Hesitantly, you reached out and the second your fingers brushed against his the Mandalorian tugged you toward himself and threw you over his shoulder. A cry of disdain left your lips but the world became a sudden blur of color and sound as wind whipped past you and with a few blinks you were no longer in the forest. He dropped you with no announcement and you grunted as you hit the cold, stone floor. 
“Thanks for the warning.” You scoffed and tried to get your bearings. Nausea rolled through you and the room felt like it was spinning. When your brain finally caught up to what had happened, you glanced around to see he had carried you into a cavern. Light spilled from overhead, like a spotlight, and with a glance up you realized he had dropped down into this cave system.
“Come.” The Mandalorian grunted and you struggled to your feet to follow him.
As he led you deeper into the cave, the walls were lit with torches. Doorways into other halls and rooms were carved into the wall, but this Mandalorian led you straight down the center. Other Mandalorians like him began to gather and peer out of the spaces to stare at you and it took all of your might to keep your shoulders straight and your chin held high.
At the end of the cavern, was a circular room that was taller than it was wide. A stone structure was built in the center of the room and the shape and fire burning at it’s center reminded you of an old timey forge where weapons used to be made. The navy Mandalorian you had been following barked out in a different language⏤ Mando’a if you remembered correctly⏤ and a different Mandalorian with a helmet of gold stepped out from a back doorway into the room. The shape of her armor seemed more feminine and around her waist hung a thick metal hammer.
“You are not the Agent described to me.” She said in a smooth and calm voice.
“Sorry?” You replied confused.
She repeated your last name. “You are not her.”
Your eyes widened, “Oh. Oh! Right, no. Um, you’re thinking of my mother. You knew her?”
“Very well.” The Mandalorian confirmed. Two other Mandalorians stepped into the circular room just to stand against the wall with the large navy one, and it made your skin crawl nervously. It seemed like overkill. Just one Mandalorian could demolish you. You didn’t understand why they needed a total of four with you. “Why are you here, young one?”
You nodded, back to business, “This morning I saw a Mandalorian at the DMA headquarters. He was filing a report on a missing child. He was⏤ His armor was all silver. Like a shiny silver, and his under suit looked brown?” You tried to recall any details you remembered of him, but it was really the bright shine to his armor that stayed in your mind. “Anyways, we’ve had a string of missing children and I wanted to speak to this Mandalorian⏤”
The three Mandalorians behind you barked out a word you didn’t recognize and you jumped in place. The leader hummed, “He is no Mandalorian.”
“Uh,” You squinted with a twist of your lips, “He looked very Mandalorian⏤”
They barked the same word again. She spoke once more, “Din Djarin.”
“What?”
“That is the man you seek.” She said. “He has broken his creed. He is Mandalorian no longer. We do not associate with him.” You scrunched your nose in disbelief. Of all the rotten luck. You manage to actually find the mysterious Mandalorian coven only to find out that the one Mandalorian you sought out was excommunicated from his coven. Great. “Is that all you have come for?”
“Technically, yes.” You replied slowly. “Unless, do you know anything about his kid? Or where I can find him?”
“No.” She answered simply and bluntly. Fantastic. Outside the room, you could hear hissed whispers and low growls. Two sounds you never considered good news. “Are you prepared to pay your price?”
You focused back on her, “The price for what?”
“For your life.”
At those three words, you felt your blood run cold. Nowhere in your mom’s journal did it mention any sort of price. The noises outside grew louder and one of the angry growls was unfortunately familiar. You cursed under your breath and turned just in time for two Mandalorians to drag in a thrashing Joel. They forced him to his knees with a hiss. One gloved hand clamped around the back of his neck and you saw Joel’s teeth lengthen as the color of his eyes began to flicker in shade.
“Joel.” You blurted and his eyes lifted to meet yours. You gave a discreet shake of your head, and the burning gold of his eyes returned to a warm brown.
“Your twenty minutes was up.” He grunted.
“Young one.” You spun in place and the leader of the Mandalorians was dangerously close. You tried to take a step back, but her hand wrapped around your throat. Joel snarled for her to let you go, and you held up a hand behind you in hopes to reassure him. Her hand wasn’t restricting your air. It just rested there. A vague threat. “Will you pay your price?”
You swallowed, unable to see a situation where denying her ended well for either of you, “Yes?”
The leader used the hand around your throat to tilt your head up and to the side, exposing your neck, and then she moved quicker than you could see. Her other arm was a blur and you felt a sting of pain against your neck. The room’s air seemed to thicken with tension as she held up a blade smeared with your blood. She released you and began to stalk toward the forge. You rubbed at your neck nervously. You weren’t bleeding out, but it shook you to your core all the same. The leader whispered in Mando’a before flicking beads of your bright red blood into the fire at the forge’s center. The blue flames flashed white before returning to their natural state.
She turned and tucked the knife away. “You have paid your price. Paz will take you above ground.” She nodded to the navy Mandalorian that had brought you in. “The wolf stays.”
“Wait, no⏤” You began.
“He will die for trespassing.”
“Hang on!” You scooted away from Paz. “Can’t he pay the price? Or can I pay for him?” Somehow, through a helmet, the leader managed to shoot you a dry look. That’s how you interpreted it, at least. Paz was stalking toward you as Joel thrashed in the arms of the Mandalorians and your mind raced for a plan. Just as he reached out to grab you, you blurted, “Riddur!”
The room froze and even Joel paused in his rage to stare at you. The leader titled her head. You pointed back to Joel, “He is my riddur.”
“You know what that word means?” She questioned.
“Yes.” You nodded. The Mandalorians were the most family oriented of the vampire covens. The bond between lovers was sacred. ‘Riddur’ was translated to spouse, but it carried a heavier weight than the english word. They may have hated wolves, but you prayed to the gods that they respected the bond enough to let it carry over outside the coven. “Please. Don’t do this.”
There was an agonizing pause where you could feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest. The leader gave a curt nod and you breathed a sigh of relief. “You may take your riddur and leave.” The Mandalorians released Joel and stepped back. You hurried over to his side to loop an arm through his. “But, young one?” You stared at the leader and the gaze she cast your way was nerve wracking. “Do not come here again. The price to pay next time will be steep.”
You nodded and mumbled a thanks before dragging Joel out the way you had come in. All the Mandalorians in the cave continued to stare. Joel kept pace with you and whispered, “Ellie? Did you find the Mandalorian we were lookin' for?”
“No. He’s not here. He was kicked out of his coven.” You replied. “We have to look elsewhere.”
Joel spat a curse out under his breath, but thankfully he continued to rush out with you rather than turn back. As you reached the spot where you entered you suddenly remembered that it hadn’t been you who came in. You stared up at the hole in the ground and sighed, “Joel⏤”
“Hold on.” Joel scooped you up and jumped. You yelped in surprise at the height he managed. It cleared the hold and he landed on the ground by the edge. At the landing, you heard his knees crack and Joel grumbled in annoyance before setting you down. “Let’s go.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” You replied.
The two of you sped through the forest and didn’t slow your pace until your car was in sight. Joel glanced your way, “Riddur.” He repeated the word. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, uh, it means spouse?” You offered. “In the werewolf setting I suppose the closer term would be ‘mate’? It’s a bond between lovers.” Joel raised an eyebrow and you felt your cheeks grow warm. “I just knew that Mandalorians took that kind of thing seriously. It was the only idea I had to get us out of there.”
He stared for a long moment, long enough to make you nervously rub the back of your neck, and then he nodded, “Thanks for that. I… I appreciate your help.” Joel grunted uncomfortably. Your lips twitched up into a smile. The two of you reached the car and climbed in. Before you could start it up, Joel cleared his throat. “It was 'cause of Ellie.”
“What?”
“Earlier. I know you wanted to ask why I left my pack. It was for Ellie.” Joel responded. “She… We’re not related by blood. She’s actually… Ellie is only half wolf.” Your eyes widened in surprise, but you stayed silent so he could continue. “My pack didn’ want half breeds. That’s where they drew the line.” Joel sunk in his seat and rubbed his jaw⏤ a nervous tick of his you were realizing. “But she’s my daughter. They didn’ get that so I left.”
You pressed your lips together and started to reach out to touch his shoulder, but at last minute you dropped your hand and shot him a smile. “Thank you for telling me. We are going to find her.” You shrugged. “We need some other way to find the ex-Mandalorian, but we have a name now and I… I‘ll think of something. I swear it, Joel. I’m not gonna rest until we find her, okay?”
“Yeah, alright, sweetheart.” He replied. You started the car and began to turn it around when Joel let out a cough. “You smell awful, by the way.”
“Thank you for that. Appreciate it very much.” 
Come hell or high water, you were going to find Din Djarin. As you drove, a few ideas came to mind. Terrible, terrible ideas, but beggars can’t be choosers at the end of the day. You shot Joel another glance out of the corner of your eye and your resolve steeled. This was more than just about redeeming yourself and getting your job back. You were going to find Ellie for Joel even if it killed you.
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princkleeatscookies · 7 months
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Strawberry Shortcake Cookie
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" Say Cheeese! chuchu~!" Description:
"An exterior baked in just the right time, decorated with sweetness of whipped cream, perfectly macerated strawberries and sugar and with fresh strawberry on top to finish the sugar sweet perfect picture, and you get the city's very cute and very energetic photographer Strawberry Shortcake Cookie! Always believed that every moment should be cherished with the help of her trusty Shortbread camera, a simple click and the moment is now captured, no happy memory left forgotten! Just don't forget to remind that her camera is right over there! Some say that her personality isn't always like this, it was until she met a certain cookie whom she considers very dearest to her that she gained this personality and broke out of her shy and timid self Strawberry Shortcake Cookie believes that every cookie has a little bit of sweetness inside them, even if they didn't show it. I mean, how else are cookies made of? Bitter and Darkness? Naaah... No Cookie is after all, right? where was I..? oh right! If you want to take a perfectly perfect picture, just call in Strawberry Shortcake Cookie~!"
------ Info:
Name: Strawberry Shortcake Cookie Age: 19 years old Occupation: Photographer, College Student Pronouns: She/her Rarity: Epic Type: Support Position: Middle ------- Personality:
Strawberry Shortcake Cookie has a bubbly, energetic and extremely sweet personality. She comforts cookies with her genuine and welcoming vibe that cookies feel safe around her. She loves seeing cookies smile afterall, all can do whatever it takes to make them happy. Even with the littlest of things and the bigger things such as her interests, she gets very VERY excited over. Always talks a lot and never stops talking about that, even giving fun facts. Though it's annoying, but she can take a hint and stops (most of the time). Clumsy as she is, she does it intentionally as it means to make the cookie a bit more happy. Whether her clumsiness is intentional or not, she's quite careless overall Because of her kind personality, she's a very forgiving cookie, accepting any apologies and willing to give that cookie a second chance. She is so forgiving that she doesn't want to believe that there's actual evil cookies lurking around. In fact, she is in denial that there are cookies who aren't good at all. She is willing to push herself (both physically and mentally) in order to prove that the cookie is happy and good. Though her happiness is welcoming, other cookies question whether or not her bubbly personality is just a facade for something darker that Strawberry Shortcake Cookie may be hiding, any inner demons she might be struggling currently? The reason behind questioning is that she doesn't display any negative emotion (fear, anger, sad etc) at anyone. There's no used to talking to her about it because you'll only be talking to a brick wall. Though her bubbly personality isn't really just a facade anymore as it became a part of her, it's all because of a childhood friend she admires and loves the most who helped her became this sociable and happy, and that childhood friend is the only one Strawberry Shortcake Cookie is willing to show her real self to. -------- A/N: This is my Cookie Run OC Strawberry Shortcake Cookie!! not surprising I know, you might know her over on my twitter and instagram. She is somewhat of a mascot of mine simply because of how much I drew her with various cookies ^^; So why not giving her some recognition here in tumblr, yeah? I drew a lot of artwork of her so there's no stopping on my posting I'll probably do a separate blog just for her in the near future ;v; speaking of which, if you do have questions regarding Strawberry Shortcake Cookie, please do!! I'm not really done yet posting about her, since I have to list all her relationships and other miscellaneous info regarding her ^^ But I do some fun facts I'd like to share
Strawberry Shortcake Cookie... is taken by a certain blonde consul. she and him are childhood friends turned lovers, more on that later.
She's the youngest of her family but has does act as an older sister to the other strawberry cookies who are unrelated to her (special case with Strawberry Crepe Cookie because their relation is left ambiguous)
Her relation with the Cookies of Darkness are friendly actually, all except two cookies. Dark Enchantress Cookie and Pomegranate Cookie
She's exclusively a Kingdom OC but does have bonds with other characters there (such as Strawberry Cream Cookie)
additional little drawings:
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her with the other Strawberries whom she considers her surrogate siblings :>
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besties being besties as usual hehe (parfait cookie's costume is from the CRK CN server that I have yet to gain access rip) ----
I'd love to share more fun facts about her but that'll be it for now!! I'll definitely be posting a lot about her ^^
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mattmurdock-wife24 · 2 months
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what hopeless romantic do.
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Author's note: hi lovely soul!✨️ I am so excited to come back to this world of writing fanfics, have a while now and, because of that I apologize for any mistakes, and I would truly appreciate any advice‐ S
warnings: fem reader, college!matt, soft, kisses
You always wanted to have someone to talk since you've been lonely on the new city,and our darling Matty would be glad do help.
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Four months ago you moved to New York, and even though it was a dream come true, you were always faced with that same feeling stuck in your chest: loneliness. It's even funny to think about the fact that you feel so alone even though you're around hundreds of people every day. You've tried to make friends, but let's face it, most New Yorkers aren't the friendliest of creatures, so it was easier to feel the cold of the coming winter alone. Every time you went out, you watched the people, the smiles, the relationships, the words and the looks, you hoped that, just like in a movie, you would meet someone, a person who would listen and understand, someone who would make your eyes sparkle and give you a sincere smile, just like a hopeless romantic, you hoped, not knowing what to do, but pretending to know.
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You continue with your notes, the music from your headphones too loud for you to pay attention to anything other than the words on the white page in front of you. You shake your head slowly to the rhythm of the music as you write. You were in your own world and that was you. No walls to protect you. Just you, and that caught Matthew Murdock's attention.
Who has been thinking about you for a while now, he notices the way you answer all the questions the teachers ask, and even when you get it wrong, you ask them nicely with a smile to explain it again. The way you threw a surprise farewell party for your teacher before she left to retire. The way you help your classmates without them even needing to ask, once he pretended he didn't know an obvious question about the philosophy of law and you explained all the concepts to him and even lent him your notes. (He also loved your handwriting, delicate and gentle as you, he also probably spent too much time staring at the paper.)
Now he's sitting next to Foggy, who laughs at him and his lack of courage. "Go talk to her!" He said and Matt went towards him but you remained inert in your world. He was standing next to you, hoping you would see him, but you didn't. When the situation started to get awkward, he called out to her and gave her a little wave, regretting it later.You finally realize he's there and take off your headphones. "I'm sorry, did you call me? I didn't really hear you, pardon me," you say in an anxious tone. "It's okay, no problem, I'm Matthew but you can call me Matt" you smile, then say your name.
He asked you something about what you were studying and that's how it started. After that you were inseparable.
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"So I've been thinking and I think it would be really cool - you know, fun me and you - do you want to go out with me?" he says, nerves taking over and the palms of his hands sweating."But of course Matt," his heart races and he smiles, "is Foggy going too? " you say, with a trace of disappointment in your voice "No, it's just you and me." He saw his heart beating even harder and his cheeks reddening
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.This will be your first date with Matt, a real one at least. You put on your best dress, do your hair and wait for the doorbell to ring. And when Matt shows up, he hands you a small bouquet of red roses.
The restaurant was full, so you sat in a far corner, trying to have more privacy, which made you a bit nervous. The thought of kissing Matt takes your breath away.
The conversation is easy; it's always like that with him, you can be yourself and in the end the loneliness that had been heavy on your chest gradually went away, and he came into your life and into your heart.
At the end of the night, you're walking along the sidewalk, Matt's arm around your waist, wrapping you up and protecting you from the cold of the night.
When you reach the door of your building, you turn to him with only one thought in mind. Your hands go to Matt's face and neck, and your voice comes out whispery, like a secret being shared between lovers. "Can I kiss you?" "Hey, that's my line. But of course you can sweetheart" And then, finally, their lips connect in a loving kiss; full of hope and desire. Two hopeless romantics doing romantic stuff.
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I hope you liked it dear reader! Since English is not my first language please forgive me if I made any mistake in the writing process. Also I would love to receive advice for getting better at this, have years I don't make it and it's a bit different than I remembered haha 😊✨️-S
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thisismeracing · 1 year
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aaaaah okay #4 from the prompt list with mick? bff to lovers maybe? 🥺 this is so fun, a great idea!
Hi, nonny! haha thank youuuu and sorry for the delay! Hope you like it 💗
From the Quick Prompt List: 4. “I think I'm in love”
word count: 0.7k
pairing: reader (she/her pronouns) x mick schumacher
warnings: fluff, not proofread, best friends to lovers.
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Yn was talking with her friend when her phone buzzed in her hands, a message from Mick. She couldn't help but smile starting to type an answer to his airport update, she was going to pick him up later so they could spend some time together before race week started again.
"Is it your Schumacher boy?" her friend asked and Yn huffed, rolling her eyes.
"How do you know?"
"Because you automatically smiled, and you have a very specific smile for him as well," she explained.
Yn thought for a second, eyes darting to play with the chain Mick gifted her a month before just because he "saw it while in Monaco and thought of you", it shouldn't be unusual to have a smile that you only give to your best friend, right? After all, it is her best friend.
"You two are so clueless it's painful to watch," her friend starts again. "I'm gonna ask you a couple of questions and I want you to answer the first thing that comes to your mind ok? No filter, just be honest."
Yn nods, confused, but still, locks her screen and directs her attention back to her friend and only her.
"Who's the first person to text you or the first person you text in the morning?"
She didn't hesitate to answer, "Mick."
"Who always checks on you?"
"Mick."
"Who came from one side of the city to the other just because you texted saying you wanted to go home, but there were no Ubers available?"
Yn bites her lower lip remembering how he flew to her on his bike and got her home in no time. That night he stayed at her house and they watched random Disney movies together before falling asleep on her couch. She takes a deep breath and answers, "Mick."
"Who took you to the hospital when you fell down and sprained your ankle?"
"You know who..." Yn casts her eyes to the huge window facing the city outside.
"Who spent the night holding your hair while you threw up after drinking without eating?"
Yn rolled her eyes, feeling her heart ache a bit. It was always him.
"Fuck, he's my best friend! What about our friendship?" Yn asks starting to feel a bit anxious. There were too many questions, too many 'what ifs'.
"You usually date your friends, you know? It's not like you're gonna choose your enemy to be vulnerable around," her friend jokes.
"What if h-"
Her friend interrupts, "he likes you, Yn. He's obsessed with you, has always been."
Yn's phone buzz again and she gets up gathering her car key and cardigan.
"I- I gotta go. He'll be at the airport any minute now," Yn explains before dropping a kiss on her friend's cheek. "Thank you for putting some sense into me, I guess. If it doesn't work, it's all your fault," she jokes.
Rushing to the airport, Yn gets there in no time. She runs to the gate and when Mick crosses the big entry she crushes their bodies together in a tight hug.
"Woah, someone missed me, huh?" Mick jokes bringing her body closer and dropping a kiss on the side of her head.
Yn withdraws a bit just to look into his eyes, he has one of his big smiles. The one he only gives to her. And although he looks exhausted, he was so handsome, his small dimples greeting her, his messy hair just waiting for her friends to card through it.
"Mick, I think I'm in love," Yn is too nervous to wait, too anxious for his answer, too excited with the possibility of a future with him, of sharing even more with him.
She feels his body tense, he's probably bracing for the worst, but when she whispers "with you" there's a new glow on his face. His lips show her that same smile again, but this time it's like there's something more like it finally reached all the happiness it could contain.
"I think I'm in love with you," she repeats and his hands find her cheeks bringing her face closer.
"That's about the best thing you could tell me because I sure am in love with you too."
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Wrote this while listening to too many songs, sorry no random infos this time lol I hope you guys like it. Share with the besties, reblog, like, comment, etc etc etc ya girl functions with feedback, crumbs feed me, don't ever doubt it, now give me some, bye *mwah*
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purplerose244 · 1 year
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Headcanons for a Camp Camp season post-David adopting Max
(Because I got back to Camp Camp for no reason at all and it is now everyone's problem. Also apparently new episode incoming? YOOO)
WARNING THERE ARE SWEARS IN THIS BUT I MEAN IT'S CAMP CAMP SO YOU KNOW 😅
Here we go!
No one knows at first
First episode starts with something random (Idk maybe something about change that makes everyone freaking out, you know how CC goes) and the entire time there are hints, like Max arriving at Camp with David and David always being in the proximity of Max. Towards the end Max makes a half-assed comment about it
Neil: Well, I guess some things never change
Neil: This place is still pretty fucked up
Max: Yeah, this is weirder than David adopting me at the end of last summer
(pause)
Everyone: WAIT WHAT?!
Casual episodes have background scenes where David puts a hand in front of Max whenever he wants to do something dangerous, or he picks him up
Max is now enrolled in Camp Campbell for Music Camp. He is never seen actually practicing during afternoon activities, he kinda just stands on his boot, but when no one is watching, especially at night, he does play a bit. He plays a guitar that was the first birthday present he got from David
He's genuinely good, he just thinks that the others will make fun of him for specifically playing guitar and ask him what campfire songs did David teach him
He's right and the answer is ALL OF THEM
Max is back to the plan of making David snap, but the idea evolved from "no way a person can be this happy" to "no way a parent can be this happy". That's totally NOT projection of his own trauma and he DOES NOT expect David to abandon him the moment it becomes too much (wink)
THE AMOUNT OF DAD JOKES ISTG. Max is 100% sure he'll go crazy out of tree puns alone. David is fully convinced that's peak dad behavior and non-negotiable
David: I'd love to take you on a vacation to trees' favourite city!
Max: David no.
David: Montreeal!
Max: DAVID NO.
David: Why so tense, Max? Are you okay?
Max: STOP RIGHT NOW.
David: Should I... leaf you alone?
Max: *groans forever*
A full episode where David is terrified of making preferences for his son and struggles between being a counselor and a father, fearing that the others might feel left out. Ultimately it is pointed out by everyone that Max was always his favourite, therefore he was a shit about it from the beginning and no one really cares (David feels relieved and quite conflicted about this)
Whenever the campers need permission to do something dangerous and there is REALLY no other option, Max sighs and does his best "please I really wanna do this, you are my guardian right?" act. It's embarassing how quickly David caves in
An episode about being a young single father, maybe David going on a date (I'm thinking the cute waitress from the Bonquisha episode and/or the bartender guy from the town episode, just to make some comebacks), having tons in common and getting along, but not wanting to commit with someone with a son. David feels pretty lonely, but he 100% can only be with someone that accepts Max as well (also pan David my beloved 🩷💛💙)
Max discovers David's tipping point when the kid gets seriously hurt because of a stupidly dangerous adventure. Max gets scolded like he didn't think David was able to. It follows a pretty tense period where Max thinks this is it, but David is just very embarassed for snapping like that and while he thinks Max can survive more than he can, he needs him to be safe. After talking they get much closer
David has no idea how to ground someone, especially his son. Usually, when he feels like he has to, he consults Gwen or, heaven forbid, Quartermaster
An episode where the ideal camper arrives. Loves outdoors, loves activities, loves singing along and saluting the flag, so David gets excited. The entire time the campers try to figure out if Max is jealous, but he shows no sign. Obviously the camper is someone evil because this is Camp Camp, and at the end Max stomps the person with a "sorry sweetheart, I'm his favourite"
Max doesn't call him dad, David knows this and never presses him. But the kid slips sometimes and corrects himself quickly, although David never seems to notice
He actually does notice and every night he proceeds to giggle into his log pillow like a high schooler with a crush
An episode where the campers try to figure out how the whole adoption situation happened, since neither Max nor David really explained it. The hypothetical story becomes increasingly crazier and more complex, between alien invations, warlocks and internal monologues. At the end a flashback is shown of Max waiting at camp. Gwen is in the cabin, then David arrives with his cheek red and bloody
David: It took some convincing
Gwen: Oh, David...
David: I'm alright. I knew who I was dealing with, and apparently they're this aggressive only to strangers. It could've been a lot worse, and they said yes anyway
Gwen: So... now what?
David: Now? Now I'm bringing him home
David had everything ready for adoption way before meeting Max, stating that as a counselor you never know what might happen. He thinks it's commendable. Max thinks it's fucking creepy
After The Forest episode David developed a bit of feral instincts, but never really showed them. Since Max can usually defend himself better than David does, there is no need to intervene. Until Daniel comes back, and makes the mistake of kidnapping Max this time, wanting to play with David on how to find his kid. He did not know. David turns into wolf dad, literally growling and hunting for his cub. Imagine a feral David roaring and growling "WHERE THE FUCK IS MY KID DANIEL??". Suffice to say, Daniel is sent to the hospital (praying the ultra lord) and Max starts to think, between Daniel and David, maybe it's his dad the psychotic one
He doesn't mind it that much
Possible outcome is Daniel being astonished by such energy, realizing that David just won't die, and feeling something strong for him, starting to ponder if David is an reincarnation of Xemug... he is giving himself an excuse, he basically just got a crush on David. If that would turn him madder or start his redemption arc, I have no idea, but I kinda like it 😂 (actually I might make a separate post about this, I got an idea for another season sequel to this one and yes, pretty Dadvid 💕💕)
Post this incident that ruined it, Mr. Honeynuts now wears a little Camp Campbell counselor uniform. David made it of course, and while Max voices his contempt, the bear was getting rough to hug and the shirt is soft
Idea gag of Max saying "did you know that *insert disturbing emotional abuse practice* isn't okay? Learned that last year"
They got blackmail material on each other. Max obviously uses it the most, between embarassing underpants and sleep talking, but in extreme cases David is not above pulling out his cute Max photo collection
Yes, he got several of those
Yes, he is waiting for someone to ask about it and show them like the proud parent he is
After David adopted Max, he started to work two jobs to make ends meet (I'm thinking teacher and maybe night guard, very standard). He's actually pretty good at both, but it makes him very exhausted. He once snapped at Max out of exhaustion and since then, he decided to rest whenever he feels tired (you know, like a normal person). Max jokes that he was supposed to make his life a nightmare, not help him develop a better and healthier lifestyle
They got a method for asking permission, "bullshit for fun": David allows him some usually unallowed stuff and he gets to have some cute father-son moments in exchange
Max: Okay, it's a huge concert, so I'm willing to go as far as a full week of tucking in bed
David: I'm not letting you go out of town all on your own that easily, young man! The week of that, and three days of hand holding when we get into a crowd!
Max: Mmm... one hand holding and... urgh... one day of camping together
David: WAIT, REALLY?!
Max: It's a really good concert
David: DEAL!!!!
During a particolarly bad night of Max having nightmares, David spends the night comforting him. Max jokes that perhaps David can get even a hug out of this. David states that their system is a fun thing between them for treating responsibilities and boundaries in a less serious way, but if Max needs comfort, that's always free
An episode in which Max hears David talk to Gwen, saying stuff like "I don't have enough money for him. I don't think I can make it. I'm so sorry, poor Max". He then starts the most effective escape from Camp Campbell plan he has ever put in motion, genuinely making it except he comes back because he misses everything. He screams at David for making him love him only to dump him. At last David understands the situation and hugs him, revealing that... he was talking about a dog he wanted to adopt for Max. Max will never live that down, and David is in absolute glee for the following days because his son loves him
Sometimes Max says "Language!" without realizing. It's horrifying for all people involved, even David
On the other hand, David starts to swear more. The thing is, he's used to Max and it's such a foreign thing to him that sometimes he doesn't realize it was him
David: Hold on, now where the fuck is everyone?
David: Language!
David: ... wait-
Idea crossover headcanon, David's last name is Corduroy, his dad is a cousin of the Corduroys of Gravity Falls. But as a matter of fact, David never calls his father dad, going for either sir or sergeant
I have the idea of introducing this father in an episode flashback from before the adoption. David's father, sergeant Jeffrey Corduroy, comes to the camp to "visit his son and reconnect after such a long time". The man is huge and affable, friendly like David, but David turns into a Max version of himself when he's around. After everyone states that he seems cool, David gets pissed even more and basically ditch camp activities the whole day
Max gets a moment alone with the sergent and presses a little more, thrown off by meeting the first person David seems to openly hate. As Max is being Max, Jeff loses it pretty quickly, revealing the kindness is a mask. As he is on his way to hit Max, David puts himself in between. He scolds his father, mad like never before, stating that one apology won't make up for ten years of hell. Jeff leaves, David is so tired his legs won't hold, Max helps him get back to the cabin and they stay there
When the two are alone eventually, David tells him his story: he actually learned about survival from his dad first, he got trained mercilessly to the point of spitting blood, for ten long years. At some point his parents decided to divorce, and he was sent to Camp Campbell to not be in the way. He felt happy there for the first time, but he spiralled after leaving, as his dad left and his mother was depressed. She sent him to France at the clown school, again to not be in the way, and when he was old enough he simply left his house to find his own way to be happy. The only place where that was, was Camp Campbell
David apologizes for making his first story about camp too cheerful, as he should have been sincere. Max comes to two conclusions that night: that they are way more similar than he expected (something he didn't believe when he first heard the camp story from David), and that... maybe David is kind to everyone because he used all the hate he has on that asshole
Possible last episode of the season is another Parent Day. Everyone is teasing Max over the fact that every day is Parent Day for him, and Max complains but passively shows how he can't wait for it. Obviously David is way too gleeful about it. Then David disappears and no one knows where he is, and Max gets in the worse mood possible, making it everyone's problem. Everyone is actually kinda supportive and that turns him from angry to simply sad, although Gwen states that whatever happened to David, he promised to be there therefore he will be
At the exhibition part, when it's Max' turn, David arrives just in time, running in full survival attire like in The Forest. Basically David had another canoe incident, and was hunted down by two more wolves. It turns out that they're the pups of the wolfie he befriended before, they were hunted by men and that's why they were very aggressive towards him at first. Another adventure ensued, with the pups learning how to survive nature
Of course this is not explained to the people (just like The Forest), David apologizes for the late, Max says "fuck you dad" and hugs him in front of everyone
Follows the most mundane celebration between parents, with David (after taking off the survival look) looking a bit goofy and uncomfortable with so many adults while being a young man, but he does his best. Finally a moment of tranquility for the campers, as they watch their parents
Neil: You know Max, maybe you had to learn to appreciate the hell that is Camp Campbell, to meet a parent that truly cared for you. Maybe it was all a learning experience, and this is your reward
Max: ...
Neil: ...
Max: Well, this place sucks, and my dad is a fucking idiot. Definitely not worth it
(Max scoffs, then he smiles at David waving at him. The other campers hold back laughter, clearly not believing him)
It's implied that from then on Max starts calling David dad full time
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I was wondering if you could write crackle from Carmen sandiego x reader! My whole account is dedicated to him and I'm hopelessly in love with him 😭🩷🩷
Maybe flirting on a mission ? Or just being on a mission in general! I enjoy him being portrayed as a bit more rude, he doesn't mean to be but he is...
I LOVE HIM SO BAD you obviously don't have to but I'd love it so much. He's my favourite ever!!!
SPARKLY MISSION
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The city lights twinkled like a million tiny stars against the night sky, casting long shadows on the rooftops. You stood on the edge of a tall building, the cool breeze tousling your hair as you kept your eyes on Crackle. He was a few feet away, checking his gear with the kind of confidence that came naturally to him. Tonight’s mission was like any other VILE operation: infiltrate, extract, and vanish without a trace. But this time, there was a difference—you were partnered with Crackle.
“Ready to rock and roll?” he asked, his voice dripping with that familiar cocky edge. He moved closer, his presence as electrifying as his name suggested. The corner of his mouth curled up in a sly smile that was half tease, half challenge.
“Always,” you replied, your tone calm, but your heart was already pounding a little faster. “The real question is, are you ready to do this without getting us caught in some sort of electric mess?”
He chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Where’s the fun in that? I thought you liked a little excitement.”
You couldn’t deny it—missions with Crackle were never dull. His unpredictable nature, his sharp wit, and the way he could make any mission feel like a high-stakes game kept you on your toes. And though you’d never admit it out loud, you found his cockiness a bit…charming.
Crackle moved to the edge of the roof, peering down at the balcony several stories below where your target was located. “So, who’s going first? You want me to show you how it’s done, or are you gonna surprise me?”
“I’ll let you take the lead,” you said, a teasing grin playing on your lips. “I want to see if the legend matches up to reality.”
“Oh, so now you’re calling me a legend?” he shot back, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Careful, keep talking like that, and I might think you’re starting to like me.”
“Starting?” you scoffed lightly, but your heart skipped a beat as you watched him. “You wish.”
He flashed a grin that was equal parts arrogant and endearing. With a graceful leap, he vaulted over the ledge, landing silently on the balcony below with the agility of a cat. He looked up at you, his grin never fading. “Your turn, if you can handle it.”
Rolling your eyes with a smile, you followed suit, landing beside him with ease. As you straightened up, your shoulder brushed against his, sending a wave of electricity through your skin. It wasn’t just his abilities that could shock, apparently.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer, almost concerned, though the playful glint never left his eyes.
“Perfect,” you replied, trying to steady your breathing. “Just didn’t expect you to actually stick the landing.”
He leaned in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Oh, I can stick all sorts of landings,” he whispered, his tone low and teasing. “But I’m guessing you already knew that.”
A flush crept up your neck, but you refused to let him see you flustered. “I’m not here for your... gymnastics skills, Crackle.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Really? Because I could’ve sworn I caught you checking me out earlier.”
You scoffed, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I was just wondering how you manage to fit that giant ego through the door.”
He chuckled again, a deep, rumbling sound that made your stomach flip. “It’s not easy, but somehow I manage.”
Before you could respond, a noise from inside the building caught your attention. Crackle’s hand brushed yours as you both instinctively moved closer to the wall, hiding in the shadows. The contact was brief, but you swore you felt a spark—more than just his usual electric touch.
“Stay close,” he murmured, his voice suddenly serious, but still tinged with that playful tone. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
“I can handle myself,” you whispered back, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at his proximity.
“Never doubted it for a second,” he said softly. “But just in case… you know I’ve got your back.”
You nodded, grateful for the darkness that hid the heat rising to your cheeks. For a moment, you let yourself feel the thrill of it all—of the mission, of being this close to him, of the danger and the flirting that danced between you like a live wire.
Crackle pressed a gloved finger to his lips, signaling for silence as he moved toward the balcony door. With a deft flick of his wrist, he disabled the lock, the faint crackle of electricity illuminating his smirk in the dark. “Ladies first,” he said, stepping aside with an exaggerated bow.
You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t suppress a smile as you slipped past him. “Such a gentleman.”
“Only when it counts,” he replied, following you inside.
The room was dimly lit, shadows casting long shapes on the walls. You both moved silently, your footsteps perfectly in sync as you made your way towards the display case in the center. Inside was the artifact—an ancient necklace rumored to possess powerful abilities.
“Looks like we’re almost there,” you whispered, but Crackle’s eyes were on you, not the prize.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. “Almost.”
You felt your heart race again, but you focused on the task at hand. With a quick glance around, you nodded to Crackle, who stepped forward, his fingers dancing over the alarm system. Sparks flew, and the system short-circuited with a satisfying pop.
“Nice work,” you said, genuinely impressed.
“Thanks,” he replied, his voice low. “But I think we both know the real challenge is yet to come.”
You arched a brow. “Oh? And what’s that?”
“Getting out of here without causing a scene,” he said, but his tone was suggestive. “Though, if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t mind causing a little trouble… with you.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he shot back, his grin widening.
“Maybe,” you admitted, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. “But let’s get out of here first, okay?”
“Deal,” he agreed, but as you moved to grab the artifact, his hand brushed yours again, lingering for a moment too long.
You glanced up, meeting his eyes. For a moment, the world seemed to slow, the mission forgotten as you stood there, caught in the electricity between you.
Then, with a knowing smile, Crackle pulled back. “Come on, partner. Time to make our getaway.”
You nodded, your heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the danger around you. Together, you slipped out of the room, back onto the balcony, and into the night, leaving the thrill of the chase—and the tension between you—hanging in the air.
As you made your escape, you couldn’t help but glance back at Crackle, who caught your eye and winked.
“Until next time,” he murmured, his voice full of promise.
“Yeah,” you whispered back, a smile playing on your lips. “Until next time.”
⁹And somehow, you knew there would be a next time—another mission, another dance, another chance to feel the sparks fly.
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the1gayteen · 2 months
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Pink Pony Club Episode-911
Thanks to @speaknowbuckley I gained the motivation to finish this plot idea for what I picture for a queer central episode (Gay club, because its LA and I am desperate for ABC to allow us to see that side of the city!)  for 9-1-1!  (Also im back from vacation yay!)
Title: The Pink Pony Club (Please know that its been a Chappell Summer for me truly) 
Main Plot/Episode Dynamic:  
I see this following a bit after Bucks initial coming out as Bi (I initially had this before he actually was confirmed bi so I saw him coming out alone, but I can still see this with the buck/tommy coming out as well!). Takes place during pride month and Hen is watching as Buck is excited for his first pride month as not and ally™. I see her wanting to take Buck out with her and Karen to the bars to celebrate, and of course Chim and Eddie may have overheard and become jealous to join (letting them all come along for support and just fun). Overall its an episode that explore a lot. Buck feeling scared to feel accepted into the queer community finally, that maybe he isn't queer enough (possibly exploring Bi hatred within the community) (for me bi hatred and eraser is something that I would love to see touched upon especially now with how people have been reacting to bi characters becoming a norm) and scared to head out to the bars. But having a Buck and Hen brother sister scene where she convinces him that he should celebrate and love himself. Eventually planning outfits together. I see buck finally letting go as he walks into the first bar. People dancing around without a care, queens, men, women. Standing on the floor and letting the music mute his racing mind, finally letting himself sway to the music with a content happiness. Hen and Karen smiling proudly as they join in.  
Oh but don't think this whole story is just on Buck and Hen. I love a queer Eddie arch and if I was a writer for ABC this would be the first fucking stone cast for this arch. Eddie walking into that bar initially without any worry. He was an ally and doing this for his best friends, no worries there. Why would he be? He’s straight... right? But why as he's watching buck dance with men does he have this pain in his chest. Or seeing other men dance together with such joy and ease. Why as he sips and chats with a drag queen at the bar does he feel the most like he’s at ease and belongs somewhere than ever before? Why does the episode end with Eddie sneaking off back to the very same bar the next night without the rest of the 118 as a soft melody of pink pony club plays, a smile etching across his face as the lights over cast his face (I NNEEEDDD). 
Oh and Chim, having a fucking blast as per usual with Maddie.  
Songs Used/When they would be used: 
9-1-1's sound track to me at least has always been phenomenal for storytelling and setting the mood. So for an actual pride episode like this I would want some good bangers (I made a playlist that I may post later lol) 
1. If I Had You- Adam Lambert 
2. Pink Pony Club – Chappell Roan  
3. Rush- Troye Sivan (See this as more of a background song) 
4. I Know a Place- MUNA 
5. Its Raining Men- The Weather Girls 
There is more but these are *my* essentials 
Possible Emergencies: 
I would love for the conversation of Buck wanting/starting to look into queer culture and history after coming out to be shown on a call at a drag show/club. The same club that the 1(gay)teen shows up to later in the episode. Something about the dimensions of how certain heels are made for drag performers or how thick costumes (tights, tucks, etc.) can be and how that queen or queens ended up in that situation.  
A pride parade incident? (I wrote a possible scenario where there is one with Take me to Church over it and gods let me be a writer, PS I don't think I'm a good writer at all lol) 
Again thank you for coming to my Ted Talk I will take my exit..
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unlikelyjapan · 1 year
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s2e9 rewatch notes (part 1)
Omelette - I'm hoping I can pull through and finish this rewatch in its entirety before I leave on vacation. While the analysis is fun, the actual act of watching the show feels very masochistic vs. last season, which I must have watched a dozen times.
The-not-sexy-sex-scene: It's interesting that the credits start to roll on a black backdrop before we even get the blue-hued (read: frozen) sex scene, and its set to a song that was written about a death/funeral (The Day the World Went Away by NIN).
As a bit of context, Trent Reznor's grandmother (who raised him after his parents flaked out) died right before the release of The Fragile, and this song was thought to be written as a reflection of her funeral. I know they didn't include any lyrics in the scene (that would be too on-the-nose for a director that delights in subterfuge), but in no world is this a happy or lustful track - it's frail, wistful, and entirely about something (someone) that has been lost.
There's some laughter in there, if you squint, but it's mostly intense and needy glances replete with swinging chain for the feral audiences sake. The stark/open "little death" eyes at the end (as Claire is presumably sleeping ) punctuate the scene UNTIL....
.....Sydney is buttoning up her coat (i.e. getting frigging dressed) in the very next beat, frustration in her voice as she notices the stains on her whites (God, is this a sheets parallel?) .
This is hot on the trail of her getting undressed (revealing her 3 of swords tattoo) at the end of s2e7 as Carmy and Claire make out in the split montage, which is the only reason I'm thankful this was released as a binge series this year.
There's not much more to elaborate on here that hasn't been discussed in this brilliant analysis by @belassima- the classic "getting dressed after a sexual encounter" trope turned on its head. We don't see Claire again until friends & family, and this is wholly on purpose. I'm suing Christopher Storer for damages after the series finale.
Syd and her Dad have such an enviable synergy - but you can tell she's over leaning on him as her "person". He's checking in on her stomach (foreshadowing the dumpster scene) and acts as her lone hype man. "I don't know how you do what you do, but I am excited".
Emmanuel - "I never want you to feel like you have to make everything the thing."
a.k.a - "You know, there are other fish in the sea."
Sydney - "Why can't we put everything we have into everything that we can"
a.k.a - "I want to funnel everything into catching this one - this is a borrowed quote from my soulmate business partner."
Emmanuel - "Baby, if that's true, then why put so much pressure on this one?"
a.k.a - "What is the reason/what is so particularly special about this fresh hell you've been subjecting yourself to?"
Sydney - "Because.....I don't know if I could do another one"
Ok - more nuance is required here. According to Syd hivemind, the answers range from "Syd's been burned in a relationship/partnership before", "Syd also has Lupus", or purely "Syd has failed too many times and is scared". We still don't know enough about her past, but I tend to look at this through a strictly fearful/nihilistic prism - she feels like she can't take any more heartache (along with the physical and financial ramifications) from another crash-and-burn endeavor.
But Emmanuel's worried eyes tell a bigger story after she delivers this line, so.....I dunno! I hope S3 covers this understanding gap in a big way.
Strange Currencies playing overhead of the city, taking us to the ally where Carmy is having THE panic attack. I transcribed every image he cycles through while the song plays backwards:
*Sex scene of Carmy staring down expressionless at Claire in bed, Claire leaning down to kiss Carmy.
*An old picture of Claire staring straight ahead, a Sweet 16 birthday picture of her sticking out her tongue in a tiara, one of Carmy's drawing of her with glasses from class. Cut to a flash of Claires face with a wry smile in sepia lighting, followed by another one that is similar but almost taunting. These sepia images get creepier as the panic attack escalates, but also more focused.
*Another drawing of Claire smiling with glasses with Mikey's voice echoing in the background "the motherfucking glasses came off!"
*Another old picture of Claire smiling without glasses, followed by another.
*Mikey and Richie and another "the motherfucking glasses came off!" soundbite.
*Drawing of Claire in glasses again for a brief flash, followed by Carmy and Claires first kiss at The Bear.
*"Carm, this is a good thing" with Stevie, as Carmy crumples to the ground in the ally.
*Claire up-close in sepia sort of half-wistful/half-scruitinizing Carmy
*Donna screaming "fuck you" and Mikey braying at the dinner table, Lee reacting, a dish smashing.
*Sepia Claire turning and smiling to the camera.
*More braying and fuck-you's from Mikey and Lee
*Just Claire's eyes in Sepia-mode, staring across at him with a joker-esque smile as the braying and swearing and fighting continues.
*Donna screaming "are you motherfuckers okay!?"
*The drawings of The Bear in Mikey's hands, him looking up affectionately at Carmy.
*Donna slapping Carmy - Carmy looks up in the ally as if something has slapped him out of it.
Donna and Mikey summon Sydney after this - Mikey with the acknowledgment of his dream (The Bear) and an ounce of brutality from Donna (as in: how dare you care about me, Carmen). These two figures, engines of chaos and trauma, steer him towards Sydney's first words to him.
"Hi, Hello..."
*Strange currencies - "These words* You were the most excellent CDC at the most excellent restaurant in the entire United States of America. What are you doing here I guess?" *you will be mine. You will be mine all the time*
I....I don't understand how the panic attack is ambiguous for people off of this site. I don't understand why it's not noted in reviews and think pieces. I don't understand why otherwise smart people put forth simplistic narratives like "Carmen just needs to make peace with his family" or "he fumbled Claire, his shot at happiness." I just don't understand.
Sydney passing Verdana "Now fool might be my middle name" as she stares down at the sign saying they will be permanently closed May 1st - along with the instrumentals, a clock ticks in the background. A flash of Nilah's face is interspersed, smiling back at her. "But I'd be foolish not to say..."
If this is an ellipse to a "Carmy loves Syd, Syd is fully gay" moment in later seasons, I'll be pretty disappointed since that would be a too-easy way to shut things down.
On first viewing, I took it as "Syd sees herself in Nilah" - she aspires to be her, Nilah gave her forewarning about partnerships that aren't official, Nilah was empowered, optimistic, and in control....and Nilah has not succeeded, highlighting Sydney's anxieties about failure at the same time Carmy is cycling through his own debris.
But the song lyrics are ambiguous, and everything is on purpose, and god damn I hate what fan theories have done to my mind.
Anyone catch that on the F&F menu listed on the whiteboard (as Natalie enters to sit with Carmy) the course of Seven Fishes is followed by the Bolognese? The feast was followed by the meal he prepared for Claire being served at friends and family? Yeah, I did.
The mother father painting - I feel like everyone was riffing on this during the earlier part of the week. The absolution of the mother due to the absent father. Syd being the mother (present) and Carmy being the father (absent). Donna (alive) vs. Mikey (dead). The idea of family haunting the dining room. The idea that this painting in the restaurant supplants what is trying to be built (found family). I suppose the parallels are endless here.
It's also just a truly shitty painting, a gauche reminder of Carmy's absence/inattentiveness.
"What exactly is a ServSafe certificate"?
Carmy was most definitely deflecting, he's a well-venerated chef. There are moments of inconsistency in the show that I let slide (giardiniera a la minute? bitch please) but there had to be a reason for this - his fatigue, his guilt, his inattentiveness reaching a breaking point.
Once he says "I'm fine on mom" Natalie sees it all coming to a head.
Sydney stickering her little Coach K vision board as she arrives for her shift. I just realized she doesn't really start paying attention to the book (a dorky 'go get 'em' gift from her Dad) until Carmy ditches her at Kasama. Coach K exists in the leadership void left by Carmy - it seems so sad to watch her pre-game by bejeweling a picture of a middle-aged man, but that sad pseudo-prayer card is the closest thing she's got to a north star right now.
Also, she's been fixated on and extolling the virtues of Coach K to Carmy all season and is met with....complete incuriosity, I guess? He never prods further, even when he sees her making this dinky thing for her station. It's almost like he knows, on a subconscious level, that this guy is supplanting him as Syd's guide.
But it's also her finding her own voice through advanced mentorship, which is great.
Carmy pointing at those aforementioned stains, Syd undressing in front of him, Carmy making plans to dress her again, them mutually deciding to dress in matching clothes until service. I cannot guys, I cannot.
Carmy getting spit-roasted for his deflection from Nat & Syd ("I know you just missed him *eyeroll*" "Do you have a phone these days?") - I feel like he's so under fire/exposed that he doesn't even recognize of the gravitas of the "I need your focus like you need mine" comment at first.
"What's your relationship with your mom like?" This scene has been discussed to death on here, I don't really have any new insights as it relates to Carmy/Syd and their maternal links or timing. I think the part that hasn't been explored much is Carmy's frustration with Nat which is thinly veiled as concern.
We saw in Fishes that Mikey and Carmy (and Donna) blame Nat for provoking bad behavior with her concern and neediness. Carmy says "she's expecting a miracle" like she's the sole sibling that enabled their mother. By way of Donna's disease and (I presume) unwillingness to seek help, the Berzatto kids really only had two options - enable by pacifying, or GTFO.
Mikey could be as atrocious as Donna. Donna is atrocious. Carmy played soothe-sayer and then left at 18. Natalie tries to cultivate some sense of family - the same family Carmy pays homage to via his restaurant, his menu, his girlfriend, Richie, his endless self-flagellation - but is resented for her own wayward attempts, even though they're very explicit expressions of love (sometimes) and longing (always). There's some really gnarly projection happening there that I expect will rear its head more in S3 between the two of them.
Cue Carmy being a douche to New Noise (although I love that little moment where he cock-blocks Connor, the new chef, and Tina smiles to herself a little).
Tina's been working tirelessly alongside Sydney and asks "Carmen, do you even have a phone?" as Syd tells him the contractor for the shelving called him eleventy-thousand times. There is a lot of emasculation happening on his own restaurant floor (formerly The Beef, the temple of gross masculinity) between the trifecta of Syd/Nat/Tina this episode, and it's only ratcheting up the defensiveness - his excuses and deflections fall flat, but he's not listening or learning yet.
Marcus' dessert check, (with Syd and Carmen looking like a panel of matchy-matchy top chef judges on the other side of the table):
Sydney is looking at Carmy with affection as Marcus receives a package from Denmark (whereas Carmen doesn't even react) - it's the second time she's looked at him like that in the conversation (the first being "workshopping the name") but it's been a long while since she's projected admiration his way. She sees how much he's done for Marcus in cultivating the whole customized Copenhagen experience for him, she sees his service, she sees her values humbly and quietly executed by him.
The Michael 😭 followed by the silence and "You can throw down, huh?" - what a perfect moment of TV.
I'm pausing here for tonight before my grammar falls apart (if it hasn't already), I'll unpack the rest tomorrow.
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hawkland · 11 months
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Art Masterpost: The Beginning Story by emmbrancsxx0 (@valleydean) Art by sidewinder (@hawkland)
When I saw an endverse story up for claims in this year's @deancashorrorfest — particularly one exploring the beginnings of how it all came to be — I knew I had to get my grubby, greedy hands on it. When I found out it was written by none other than @valleydean, I may have made some hqppy screeching noises to rival Castiel's true voice. Getting to do art for one of my favorite writers is always exciting, if sometimes anxiety-inducing, but I ended up having an absolute blast working on these with Mallory and am really happy with how they turned out. Thank you for being such an amazing partner to work with, and I'm so excited for everyone else getting to read the story now!
Thank you as well to @kingdumbass for organizing Horrorfest once again, and creating one of my favorite little Destiel communities on the net. It's always a ton of fun and I love how you keep the server going & engaging year round.
Some rambling comments on the art & my process below the cut.
As usual these were all done in watercolor with a little bit of black & white acrylic pen work for fine details and lines. I used rough/cold press paper for all of these to keep a consistent feeling and because it's always my favorite for doing any portraits and where I want a lot of blending control.
The hardest thing for me was deciding which of the many memorable scenes and moments I wanted to illustrate in the time I had available. I had a pretty clear vision for the title art early on: to show Dean & Cas at the beginning of it all, with a collage of elements of destruction behind them and doing the title text in the "Croatoan graffiti" style. There were a bunch of different reference shots combined for that one: screencaps from 5x04, a later-season shot of Dean & Cas walking together to get their positions how I wanted, etc. My Cas "face" reference was actually from Stonehenge Apocalypse as I wanted him looking a little more human/hopeful than standard s4-5 Cas as he's pretty low on grace but still has a little "angel mojo" left.
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(As Mallory commented when I shared it as a WIP, "That's a man who's about to be destroyed!" :D D:)
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I'm also really glad I was able to get the painting to Mallory at DC-Con! You can see in the pic that it's pretty big (16"x20") to get all that detail in!
For the next piece, there's a small scene of Dean and Cas on the road under smoke-filled skies, past a "God Saves" billboard that just struck me. I'd just driven out to Pittsburgh and back on the PA Turnpike so used some quick reference snaps I took combined with photos of the hazy skies from the Canadian wildfires earlier this year to get the atmosphere I wanted. I tried to keep some of the same washed-out colors and feeling of the title piece for that, save the color of the sky.
For the rest, I wanted to do one piece each of Cas and Dean at critical moments in their journey through the story. Cas facing himself in the shattered glass of a pharmacy cabinet was a moment I knew I had to try to capture. It reminded me of that amazing shot of Misha in Gotham Knights, with Harvey and the smashed mirror, so that was definitely in my mind as a visual reference.
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Cas himself is a combination of some Purgatory screencaps and some out-of-character Misha pics from here and there to get his hair the way I wanted it to look (even if I ended up painting over most of it with interference silver watercolor to create the effect of the shattered glass. Here's an in-progress look:
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The Dean rooftop piece is one I'd had in my head as soon as I read the passage in the story, but it was the last piece I tackled. The city in flames behind Dean was pretty much done in one shot as a spontaneous wet-in-wet wash...though it was a little eerie and unsettling working on it this past week with current events playing out on the tv while I painted.
Finally, I really wanted to do a piece showing Dean and Cas as they are near the end of the story compared to how they started out. This one came together in a really fast burst of inspiration - I think one day drawing and two days painting because it's smaller than the others (12"x6") and I wanted it to be really close up and intimate. Drawing:
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Poor boys have been through a lot. And it's only going to get worse )-:
Anyway, that's more than enough from me. Have you gone to start reading the story yet? If not, go there now! Bookmark! Read! Leave lots of love in the comments! Reblog and check out the rest of this year's Horrorfest collection while you're there!
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