#washington intrigue

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

E. Howard Hunt (as David St. John) - The Coven - Fawcett - 1973

[melodiousoblivionao3]

Wavé without Abby D and Spirit plays them next week we’re doing to score 8 goals let’s go

[mountainashes]

I do find the way that some of the enemies in Rush of Blood are clearly based off of the characters. Esp bc they're Josh's friends and ur playing as him. So its suggesting he sees them as a threat

[harbingerofsoup]

i’ve reached s2 of my turn: washington’s spies rewatch which means i no longer care about any of these characters because robert townsend has graced my screen

[female-buckets]

They deserve each other

[yourfavebooklrsfavebooklr]

4 stars

There are a lot of really great ideas in this book. The problem is that there may be too many ideas in it. Namely- in this book, Witchers are magic-users and are an oppressed group, and a lot of the plot involves fighting anti-Witcher legislation. Meanwhile, the plot also involves a lot of corruption within the Witcher community and secret plots and etc. Both of these were great ideas for a book, but paired together, at times I thought they detracted from each other? At the same time, the two ideas did work well together at times and both very much contributed to the themes of the book- the combining of the two was a little clunky at times but well-done overall.

Another thing I noticed was that, at the beginning, the book was almost doing too much, too fast? It got into its stride after about 100 pages, but I think the intro could’ve used some time to breathe and better establish relationships and worldbuilding. That being said, once it was past the rougher part, I really did think it was an excellent book pacing-wise and plot-wise.

I loved the worldbuilding- you can really tell that the author put a lot of thought into the magic system. There were a couple things that didn’t make sense but overall I thought it was excellent. I thought the character arcs were very good, and it was interesting to watch them clash more and do darker things as the book went on. You can tell the characters care about each other, but they’re all very flawed and have their own motivations behind things. Also, the twists were both logical and unpredictable- this book was a wild ride by the end, and the plot holds up while still shocking the reader.

TL;DR: an amazing book with some rough edges. I’d recommend this to people looking for witchy books, themes relevant to today’s world, a cast of complex and often morally grey characters, complex plots with political intrigue, and darker YA fantasy.

[muttmoxley]

HEY. WHAT THE FUCK WAS ON QUACKITYS DESK?????

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Hooking your Readers

Hook—The first line, lines, or paragraph meant to grab the reader’s attention

For most people, a night out at the movies includes sitting through the coming attractions. We watch these short bursts of scenes that scare us, intrigue us, make us laugh, and sometimes nearly bring us to tears. No matter the preview, though, if it looks good, we want to go see the movie. An effective “hook” in your story works the same way. You want to grab your reader right away and compel them to continue reading.

Some common strategies for creating a hook & examples:

Anecdote: My hands shook and beads of sweat rolled down my face. I double-checked the directions before assembling my tools and turning up the heat. Making lasagna shouldn’t have been this stressful, but in my grandmother’s kitchen, the stakes were a little higher. 

Direct quote: “Be open and use the world around you.” Toni Morrison gives this advice about the craft of writing, but I find that it applies to most areas of my life.

General statement or truth: Every child, no matter how sheltered or well-adjusted, will experience fear. Whether they are scared of the monster under the bed or the neighbor’s barking dog, children experience fear as a normal and healthy part of childhood.

History: On Wednesday, August 28, 1963, thousands traveled to Washington D.C. by road, rail, and air. There were demonstrators of all races, creeds, and genders. Unafraid of the intimidation and violence they faced, they demonstrated for the rights of all. Known as The Great March on Washington, this day marked an important turning point in the Civil Rights Movement in the United States.

Metaphor: Stretched out in a sunbeam, my cat may seem timid, but really, she’s a lion. She will stealthily stalk her prey, attack without mercy, and leave a trail of blood and guts in her wake. Afterward, as she grooms her luxurious mane, she shows no remorse.

Scene or illustration: Shadows stretch across the pavement as jack-o-lanterns flicker in windows. Little trick-or-treaters scamper from porch to porch, filling their bags with various forms of sugar. It is the day dentists dread most: Halloween.

Sensory description: The stale smell of cigarettes engulfed me as I stepped into the dim, silent apartment. The heat had been turned off, so I could see my breath fog in front of me as I carefully stepped over the old pizza boxes, overturned cups, and random pieces of paper strewn across the floor.

Startling statistic or statement: Teenage drivers crash their cars at nearly ten times the rate of older drivers.

More: Writing Notes & References

[venomnyx]

THE FOOL CARD - Josh Washington x F!Reader AO3 // Spotify Playlist

WORD COUNT - 3.1k SUMMARY - You've been sneaking around with your best friend's older brother since summer. If it's supposed to be easy and casual, why does it feel so foolish? TAGS/WARNINGS - friends with benefits to lovers, female anatomy reader, teasing, alcohol/drinking, cursing, unprotected p in v sex, brief mentions of asphyxiation, creampie, josh has feelings first, dialogue heavy? NOTES - this is a self-indulgent fantasy smutty dialogue pracitce that isn't edited bc who has time for that these days. ignore overuse/repeat words if u love me. fan of josh since '15 only now i have the ability to do something about it

“You don’t really believe in that stuff, do you?” Josh asks, leaning against the doorway, casually sipping a beer.

You glance up from the cards spread out in front of you. Ashley sits opposite you, deer-eyes round with awe from when she held off of your every word, hinting at her friendship with Chris potentially becoming something more. A small smile grows on your face as you gather the silky cards together and slot them back into place.

“You’re not just saying that because you’re scared, are you, Joshy boy?”

With another sip, the corner of his mouth ticks up with intrigue. He shoulders off the doorway and saunters over, eyes never leaving you.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” he says cooly, sliding onto the stool that Ashley scoots out of. She shoots you a knowing look, a glimmer in the ring of her green eyes, a flush to her cheeks as she scurries back into the chatter-filled living room.

“Tell me,” he begins, lounging back in the wooden chair with a low, shadowed look on his face. A long sip of beer, a generous amount of lash-lidded eye contact. “What does my future hold?”

“Your future?” You smirk, skillfully shuffling the cards in your hand, cheeks warm when you lose the competition of holding his confident stare. The tarot cards are glossy and thick, a high-quality deck gilded with gold that you’d nabbed from a crystal shop that stunk of coconut incense and white sage.

A card flies from the deck, landing face-down. You reach and flip it over, revealing The Tower—a crumbling structure, lit with a devastating fire.

“Sudden, eruptive change.”

He leans closer, interest piqued. “What kind of change?”

“Well… let’s ask the cards to clarify,” you continue, reshuffling until another card leaps out. You pick it up, revealing a heart, daggered with three, long swords. “The Three of Swords. Heartache, and pain.”

He scoffs humorously. “The only heartbreaking and painful thing about this week was Chris eating my leftover pizza.”

You hum, unconvinced. Another card.

Ten of Cups reversed. Familial despair.

“It feels like a warning,” you say, trying not to look at the blatant picture. Familial grieving, pain, loss. Clearing your throat, you glance back up at him. “Almost like everything you know is about to change.”

“Hm. Seems ominous,” he replies, entirely not convinced. “What about my near future?” He perks a suggestive brow, licks the dry of his lips. “What are the cards saying about tonight?”

You roll your eyes, feigning indifference, but your hands tremble when you pull two cards. The Moon, and The Lovers.

“Hmm… looks like the cards are saying…” you faux scan the cards, then glance over your shoulder to ensure there aren’t any eavesdroppers. When you’re satisfied they’re distracted, you return with your chin propped on two folded hands and a small, mischievous smile.

“Your room. Midnight?”

His lips stretch into a grin. “Y’know, if the cards keep saying things like this, I might just become a believer.”

You mirror his smile, tucking yourself in tight as you lean closer to the counter.

Hannah walks in, playing with her fingers nervously, and you instinctively lean back. She glances between you, Josh, the cards, and twists her feet against the tile seams.

“You want a go, Han?” You ask. She nods, but appears apprehensive.

“Come on, Josh, client confidentiality. Get outta here. Scram.”

Josh laughs, once. “Alright. I’ll leave you ladies to it.”

Your eyes flicker to him for a moment. He nods with a poker face like steel, raises his beer in acknowledgement of his sister, and leaves the room without a second look.

It’s cruel, how he walks away. Cruel like it’ll never mean more to him.

Ashley, face pink from cocktails, corners you when you return from the readings, hand pawing at your arm.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Ash. What’s up?”

She leans closer, voice lowering. “Do you have a crush on Josh?”

You’re mid-sip of wine when she asks, and you sputter a cough.

“Excuse me?”

She grins. “You know. Do you like like him?”

Ever the butt of the joke, your defensiveness flares like the prickle of young flames. Is she teasing you? Your fingers tighten around the glass stem.

“No, I know what you meant,” you reply, face warming. “Um, no, Ash. I don’t have a crush on Josh.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I could totally set you guys up. I mean, I told you about my crush on…” she glances around, tactically lowering her voice. “…Chris. So, you can trust me!”

“Ash, I think everybody knows about your crush on Chris.”

She blinks like a doe in headlights. “No, they don’t,” her gaze slips away. “Do they?”

You sip from your glass. “Everybody except Chris, apparently.”

She whacks your arm gently. “Shut up! He might hear you!” She scolds, embarrassed. You chuckle to yourself, eyes drawn to your cup as you mindlessly swirl the drink.

“But, seriously, it’s probably good that you don’t have a crush on Josh. Hannah and Beth would kill you!” She laughs.

Your blood turns icy as your mind is suddenly overwhelmed by a flurry of hook-up flashbacks, and you take a healthy, guilt-numbing swig of your drink before replying.

“Haha. Yeah. You’re probably right about that.”

Two glasses of wine later, you excuse yourself for the bathroom and veer off path when the coast is clear to Josh’s room. His door is ajar, feeding through a slim slice of warm lamp lighting onto the dark hallway.

A familiar routine— a scratch for the itch, a hit for the craving. Can’t keep your hands off him, not since the first time. You’d be in so much trouble if the twins knew you were hooking up with their older brother, but the scandal of it all gives you hot flashes between the thighs.

Hands tickle up your sides when you sneak in. A flat palm over your shoulder to click the door shut.

“You’re late,” he teases.

You stifle your giggles. “Yeah, well, unless you want everybody finding out about whatever we’re doing, then you’ll have to be patient for me to find my moment to sneak off.”

He closes the space between you, pressing against your chest to tilt you against the dresser, feeling small beneath his frame. Knees locked around his hips when you hop up.

“Would it be so bad?” He murmurs, immediately kissing along your neck, hands greedy on your waist. “You know… if they knew? About us?”

Us. A word like hot coals, fingers instinctively recoiling from the topic. Excited butterflies turned to anxious wasps in your belly. Casual moments bleeding into lingering stares, “we’re just friends” to eye contact and hand-holding when he makes you cum.

You think Emily knows. She’s quick-witted and perceptive whenever you leave the room, eyes sharp like a bristled cat ready to pounce.

“What’s there to know? We’re just friends,” you say, and he hums sceptically in response. You clutch his shoulders, warm beneath wine-numb fingers. “Besides, Hannah and Beth would kill me—”

“So, that’s it?” He grins, pulling away just enough that you can feel his breath fanning across your clavicle. You smell alcohol and peppermint gum and your head spins from the proximity.

“I’m just your dirty little secret?”

He’s making fun of you.

“Shut up,” you whine, breath laboured from the tingly feeling he produces against your skin with his mouth. Arousal so severe you feel like you’re sixteen again, a hormonal ball of teenage puppy fat and insecurity.

“Fine. How’d Hannah’s reading go? What’d she wanna know?”

You sigh with frustration, trying to nudge your hips closer to his. “Josh, please don’t talk about your sister when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“Oh, just like that, huh? Like I’m a piece of meat?”

“Isn’t that what you signed up for, pretty boy?”

He nips harder. “You think I’m pretty?”

A severe eye roll. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Well, I can be pretty convincing,” he mutters, pushing the hemline of your skirt up your thigh. “Your dress is cute. You wear it for me?”

You had— all butterflies and anticipation at the thought of easy access. A short, black milk-maid thing, as well as enduring an everything shower the night before, sore from vanilla-sugar exfoliation. Soft for him.

The words escape you in a stuttered breath when he thumbs up to your panty line, tipping it to the side.

“You wish.”

He noses against the column of your throat when he slips a finger against you, shuddery breaths when the slick gathers on his palm.

“Always so wet,” he strains, tipsy touches circling your clit, pressing into the honeyed entrance. “You’re insatiable, you know that? Can’t get enough of me?”

No.

“Mm… don’t flatter yourself. Consider it convenient.”

He tilts his head. “Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?”

“Stop— stop being such a dick,” you pant, muscles seizing against the sudden onslaught of building pleasure.

“Thought you liked me a little mean.”

He slides a singular finger into you, all molten and tingly as he knuckle-fucks you.

“Oh God, shut up.”

He sucks pressure onto your neck, affectionate with a hand on the small of your back. Your insides clench, aching with the urge to be filled, a desire his fingers would never be fully be able to satisfy.

You palm the growing mound behind his denim. “Need to feel you.”

He leans back, looking at you boyishly, pausing the work of his wrist.

“Right now?” His voice peaks. “But you’re hardly ready—”

“Gotta be quick.” You tug on his belt buckle and challenge his eye contact with lowered eyelids. “I can take it.”

You’ve rendered him stun-locked, shy.

He blinks. “Fuck— shit, okay,” he reaches for the zipper on his jeans, already steel-hard when he releases himself. He nudges closer, but you’ve never done it like this before. Not without a condom.

“This okay?” He asks hurriedly, the strain to his voice a sobering splash.

The wine blurs the line you promised not to cross. You glance down to where he fists himself, hastily spreading your slick across his length, and your lower belly flips.

You nod, bottom lip captured between your teeth. “Fuck. Please.”

“You sure?”

“Josh—”

“Alright, alright, needy.”

He slips a hand over the curve of your ass, propping you firmly on the dresser and nestling further between your thighs, notching his tip against your wet heat before pushing in. A sharp inhale accompanied by a hand on his chest, urging him to go slower.

It’s a tight stretch as you adjust to the weight of him pressing inside you, nails digging reflexively into the meat of his shoulders.

“Easy, I got you,” he murmurs, hand sliding up from guiding himself inside of you to the wall beside your head. His mouth captures yours as he sinks deeper, a balm to soothe the sting.

You don’t normally kiss. Not often, usually only when you’re drunk. It felt too intimate at first, too weird— because two “just friends” fucking each other’s brains out certainly wasn’t, but you sigh-melt when his tongue slips past the parting of your lips.

He rolls his hips shallowly once, twice— until the burn turns honey-silk, sheathed heavily in your velvet. He’s panting when he leans back, reaching up for purchase, something to ground himself. He instinctively goes for your waist, second-guesses himself, and leans a hand against the wall.

Dark eyes search for yours in the haze. “You alright?”

You slide your hands underneath his plaid shirt. “You trying to be romantic or something?”

He rolls his eyes. “Quit it.”

You bite down on your lower lip, suppressing a grin, and dig the ball of your foot into his ass to pull him closer.

“Get on with it, then.”

He obliges with a groan, pistoning slowly at first. A gentle back-and-forth, slickening himself up all sweet for you, precarious where he tries not to make the dresser rock too much. Helplessly his fingers cling to you, digging into the plush of your thigh, thumbing along the crease where the skin meets your hip.

He reaches to cradle your face and parts your kiss-wet lips with a thumb. You suck him into the cup of your mouth, tongue curling around his skin. You’ve never blowed him before but you’re sure he pictures you pretty on your knees with the way his eyes darken.

His thumb releases with a pop and he presses it against your clit, puffy with need.

The rhythm catches up, and soon you’re panting as you rock against one another. Arms clinging to the broad spread of his shoulders, legs squeezing around his waist. You could stay here forever, you think— drunk on the way he fucks you like he cares what you feel, what you think. Attentive, giving. Better than any exes and you’re sure he knows it— why else would you stick around?

Your best friend’s older brother.

“We should stop doing this,” you concede, words strung high across a moan. “Ashley thinks I’ve got a crush on you.”

A tilt of his head. Something flickers on his face, sparkles in his eye when his lip quirks up. Amusement.

“That right?” He breathes, teeth flashing. “Cute.”

“Jesus, right there—”

Panting breaths melt together between a symphony of curses. A roll of your eyes as your head tilts forward, nails digging into his tense biceps, bracing yourself against the pulse at your centre as his spit-silky thumb circles your clit.

He swallows thickly, throat bobbing against your temple. “Well… do you?”

You pull back from the crook of his neck you’d buried yourself into. “What?”

“Have a crush on me?”

You sock his shoulder. “Don’t make it weird.”

He grins, followed by a roll of his hips. “Oh, right, because that’ll make things weird.”

“Just— just keep doing that, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Footsteps and laughter.

Your eyes widen, nerves doused with adrenaline. “Someone’s coming—”

Josh’s hand snaps up and clamps across your mouth, his hips shifting to continue their pace but careful to mind knocking against the dresser. Eyes low and dark as he leans closer, cheeks flushed as he squeezes your face.

From outside the door, “Yo, where’s Josh?”

“He said he was going to get more beer!”

It’s Chris and Mike.

“He’s been gone for a while. Do you think he’s passed out in his room?”

Your brows scrunch, torn between the thrill of fear and pleasure. A moan squeaks behind his palm, every thrust a countdown. Josh mime-shushes you, licking his lips and glancing over at the door as footsteps pass by. Nothing but a piece of wood between you and a secret spilt.

You whimper, pussy turning to liquid heat between your thighs, fizzy with ecstasy, clamping down hard around his hips. Cobra tight around the lava sink and drag of his cock.

“Nah, man. Let’s check the wine cellar.”

The footsteps continue down the hallway, easing your adrenaline with each step as you turn gelatinous in his arms. He releases you at once and the oxygen runs to your head with a dizzying force, eyes wild as they address you.

“Did you…?”

“Mhm.” It pitches high, and his eyes widen with the realisation.

“You liked that. Do you want us to get caught?”

You tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Maybe I just liked you choking me.”

His brows raise. “Wait. Really?”

You smile wickedly in response, leaving the question unanswered— you aren’t trying to give him any ideas, but you feel that bubbly-wistfulness in your belly at the thought of his hand around your throat the next time he takes you.

You’re not meant to daydream or hope for the next time; this was only supposed to be a one-time thing— just shy of your nineteenth birthdays, fucking yourselves through a dry spell, but you’ve been jumping his bones since the Washington’s invited you to stay with them last summer and he showed you how to smoke your first joint.

You’re a sweet girl, their parents said. Hannah and Beth couldn’t have been more excited that their best friend was coming to stay for six weeks. They hadn’t suspected a thing.

That was last August. Now you’re here with the others for the annual winter getaway— the lodge all to yourselves, and you’d not even lasted a night before you’d tip-toed into his room at 1 AM.

Josh grunts into your neck, cock twitching within you, sliding in and out of your slickened pussy like water.

“Where should I…”

A vulnerable split-second of eye contact. Shivery energy zips between you and something atmospherically shifts, like a moon falling into orbital alignment. The space behind your rib cage becomes soft and malleable, gravity tugging on your heartstrings.

The Fool Card.

A dangerous cliff edge that you’re too wrapped up in the moment to take mind of. You’re already in this deep— might as well fling yourself over it.

You dig your fingers into him. “Inside.”

His eyes flash wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah— fuck, Josh, let me feel you.”

“Oh, shit. Okay. So fuckin’ hot.”

He thrusts with more urgency now, brows knit, teeth bared. Sharp when they slide along the skin of your shoulder.

He releases a cute grunt when he comes, nose buried in your neck, cock pulsing strongly inside of you. A sharp little rut of his hips, pushing himself deep, milking dry what remains.

Panting breaths mingle together, misty with post-sex sweat. You stroke the back of his exertion-damp head, cradled gently against your shoulder, his knuckles white as they brace against the dresser.

This is usually the time when you clear your throats and tug your clothes back on, but when he lifts his head to look at you, there’s something soft and sticky-sweet in the post-clarity lax of his features, the seraphic upturn of his brows.

“Can I kiss you?”

You blink at him. “Josh…”

Something visibly deflates on his face. “Sorry, sorry, I overstepped, I forgot the 'rules'—”

You grab him by the neck, thumb affectionately along the line of his jaw, and capture his mouth against yours. When you kiss he’s still sheathed to the hilt, chests pressing together, and you suddenly don’t feel so drunk anymore.

Everything narrows down, vision tunnelling. You’re suddenly not in a lodge with all of your friends, not propped up on his dresser, not just friends with benefits. You can pretend in the safety of his bedroom, making out like lovers, because when it’s this dark it’s just him, him, him, an utter mind-reeling consumption, so warm and soft and tender you feel shame trickle down your spine.

It’s not supposed to feel this good.

Spit strings between your mouths when you pull back.

“We should… go back to the others. Probably wondering where we are.”

He pants, gazing down at your lips. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. We should do that.”

It’s cruel, the way he looks at you. Cruel like this means more to him, too.

dividers credit @saradika-graphics // mdni graphics credit @arcielee

[msgses]

trick or treat

pairing: josh washington x gn!reader w. 1,491 genre: suggestive horror, shameless smut summary: out exploring the mountain for halloween, you come across a lodge. thinking it's abandoned, you head inside not knowing what (or who) you'll find. warnings: very dubcon vibes, questionable morality, implied afab anatomy. no use of y/n. rough sex, choking, creampie. a/n: this is my first until dawn fic! i still plan on doing one for mike i just thought josh would be a perfect halloween fic

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. MINORS DNI.

There was a lot of intrigue surrounding Blackwood Mountain and the horror stories surrounding it. Deciding you wanted to go out and have fun on Halloween, you decided to get into some heavy clothing and make the trek up to explore the site of the rumors.

The trip up was agonizingly long, and the cold weather and snow didn't make it much better. Though, you still decided to continue exploring and came across a few fun spots.

There was a shed that looked awfully cozy, but unfortunately was locked. If it worked out, you might've spent the night if it meant not having to go back down the way you came in the freezing cold.

As you traveled up the trails, you noticed a large building in the distance. Already feeling like you could get hit with frostbite any minute, you decided to check it out.

It was a huge lodge, and you could see all the lights were off indoors. Getting to the windows, there wasn't any sight or sound of anybody inside.

When you tried the door, it surprisingly opened without a hitch. The inside of the house was eerily quiet. Abandoned, maybe?

Investigating further found that there were obviously people that had lived there, but weren't around. The rooms were empty and only a few stray pieces of clothing or a beer can was any sign of life. The heating was still on, luckily.

So, you decided to check out the fridge. If you were going to make the place your house for the night, you wanted food.

Just as you were opening the fridge, you heard a creak of the floor behind you. Before you could turn, you felt a hand over your mouth just as you attempted to yell.

"No, no, don't yell. You're not in any danger, yet," A man's smooth voice came from behind you, "I'm going to take my hand off of your mouth and you're going to tell me your name."

Just as he said he would, his hand traveled off of your mouth and lightly wrapped around your throat. Fumbling on your words, you sputtered out your name.

He repeated it into the air multiple times before chuckling softly. You could feel his breath against the back of your neck. "That's a pretty name. What are you doing out here all alone on the mountain?"

Your brain felt like it was going blank. "I just.. I wanted to see what all of the horror stories were about. If there really were monsters up here."

"Not the kind they talk about, no," His grip tightened slightly, "But there are monsters up here. Ones that are very territorial."

You felt your pulse rising in your throat and it only seemed to be getting faster. Your mouth felt dry and you weren't ignorant of what he meant. "Who- who are you?"

"Oh, honey," You felt him get right next to your ear, "I'm one of those monsters. You can call me Josh, though."

"Josh.." You had to think about it. You knew the history of the mountain from the google deep dive you did the night before. "You're Josh Washington, the son of the rich guys that bought this mountain."

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner!" He backed away, hand still on your neck as he raised his voice, "Well aren't you a smarty pants?"

You felt your cheeks flush and your mind raced with questions. "What are you going to do to me?"

That drew Josh back in, although this time he pressed his body firmly against the back of yours. A very obvious bulge pressed against your ass and you swallowed hard. "I'm going to show you what one of those monsters do when someone comes into their territory."

"Don't.. don't hurt me," You pleaded, although it sounded pathetic and weak.

"I won't hurt you, or I won't try to," Josh laughed softly into your ear, "You just have to cooperate."

You nodded slowly, feeling uncertainty all throughout your body. What he was going to do was uncertain, although the obvious bulge pressing into you gave you some idea.

"That's good," His voice lowered and his hands hooked onto the thick pants, "You're not going to forget me, sweetheart."

His movements were quick, pulling your pants and underwear down in a quick few tugs. You felt bare and open, sweat collecting on your brow. "Josh.." You murmured.

"Oh, I like it when you say my name," You could hear his grin from the way he spoke, "Keep saying it and maybe I'll be nice."

You felt his hand running over your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and letting out a low groan when his hips rolled forward. His free hand reached down and pulled down his sweatpants and boxers. His cock was painfully hard and you could already tell.

His hand also reached forward and pressed a finger against your hole, teasing it and chuckling. "Someone's desperate for me, aren't you? Pretty thing."

You couldn't suppress the whine that left you, subconsciously pushing back against it. He seemed to notice and gave in, his finger sinking inside slowly. It drew out a gasp, but you kept your composure as he worked it in and out.

"God, you're wet. I'd have half a mind thinking you walked in here wanting me to fuck you," He teased, pushing his finger in rough and adding a second to go along with it.

The stretch burned, but you were still breathy and overwhelmed by the feeling. "Josh," You could hardly get the word out.

You heard him laugh behind you. "If you say my name like that, I can't promise I'll be able to control myself," He withdrew his fingers and you felt his cock press against your hole, "Say it again."

You felt his hand close around your neck tighter, but you still got it out. "Josh." You repeated firmly.

"That's right," He sounded satisfied with himself before pushing his hips forward.

His cock was thicker than you anticipated and you fell against the refrigerator door, trying to catch your breath. His hand slipped off of your throat and both of them grab onto your hips.

His pace started out steady, even though you hadn't had nearly enough time to adjust to his size. Either way, he was going full steam ahead. Your hands closed around the fridge's handle, holding on for dear life.

"Fuck, you're so tight, did you know that?" Josh's voice sounded rough and airy, "So tight I never want to stop fucking you. Never gonna stop, you hear me?"

All you could let out was a broken moan, his steady pace felt unrelenting and hard to process anything around you. "Fuck, Josh.."

"God, baby, keep saying that," He wrapped his arms around your waist and began pounding into you. His thrusts felt desperate and unhinged.

"J-" You were cut off by his incessant pace, being completely overwhelmed by the pleasure of his cock hitting deep inside you.

He seemed to slow down, back to his pace from before, although he was letting out small whiny sounds. "You feel so good, can't help myself, no... gotta have you.."

His ramblings began to drone on, his voice quiet and largely overshadowed by the sound of his hips connecting with yours. Before you could say anything else, he randomly began to speed up again.

Just like before, he was fucking into you ravenously. He sounded like a mess, much like yourself. The feeling of his cock pushing into you over and over had you without any warning had your brain turning into mush.

It wasn't long before you felt a surge of pleasure, letting out a choked moan as you came around his cock. It was sudden and fast, but prolonged by his relentless pace.

You heard him whine behind you, his fingers digging into your hips. "Fuck, you can't just.. that felt so fucking good, I can't stop.." His voice sounded completely foreign to the confident, intimidating presence you heard before. He was gone.

It was even more sudden that he slammed into you, his hips staying firmly pressed against you as he moaned out. You felt a warm sensation and the pieces clicked together just as he started to speak. "Fuck, that's it.. you're all mine."

His hips slowly rocked before pulling back, feeling his cock slip out of you. Your knees buckled and you collapsed onto the kitchen tile, feeling his load begin to seep out of you. "What did you.."

"Monsters like to claim their prey," Josh said, his voice back to his intimidating persona. "Now they'll know you're mine."

"Yours?" You said as you looked up, seeing his face for the first time that entire evening. He was far too attractive for his own good. "I'm nobody's, Josh."

"Oh, is that so? Maybe I didn't make it clear enough. Let's do it again and learn, shall we?"

[auroracalisto]

stay outta trouble, yeah?

tangerine x southern!reader, 3.7k words summary: he's taken by their southern accent, much like they're taken by his british one. color him intrigued, because why not? he'll be getting them to safety as soon as he can get away from the fight--or rather, telling them to get to safety. a/n: before you read the rest... there are a few lines i took from the movie to keep part of the plot alive. and then it goes haywire... anyway. listen i was just thinking about how incredible it would be to talk to tangerine and not actually hide my personal accent. here you go, pookies. (i'm from west virginia if that helps you). i've also never been farther than türkiye, so my knowledge of what it's like to travel to japan is very limited. pardon my inaccuracies even though i only talk about it for like... .2 seconds, at most. tw: major canon divergence, talks of blood, wounds, cursing, etc.

It'd been a long few days in Tokyo. Traveling for your own enjoyment was always an incredible thing, but good lord, was it exhausting.

The flight, which was non-stop from the Washington Dulles Airport, thank goodness, was nearly sixteen hours. No connecting flights, no dealing with confusing and unfamiliar airports. But just the flight itself was enough to send your sleeping pattern to all kinds of craziness. Don't even mention the fact that you had to drive to the airport, which took several hours just to get there...

Wasn't the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last.

Travel was a luxury so many never had the opportunity to experience. When you had the chance to go to Japan, you took it. It was practically a dream vacation, despite how exhausting it truly was.

You'd come back to Tokyo after a few days in Nagoya, the second to last stop on this bullet train, maybe a quick day trip to Kyoto after, but time was of the essence. You may not have planned every little detail for this trip of a lifetime, but you had a good idea as to what you were going to do.

The bullet train would be at your stop in nearly two hours. That was plenty of time to take a nap and probably figure out what you'll do in Nagoya after finding your planned accommodations.

You found a seat in the "quiet" car, almost giddy to know that there was a car specifically for that. Being from the southern United States, the only actual train you could recall was the Amtrak Trains, but even then, you didn't know as much as you could have about them.

You kept your backpack close to you, trying to find your earbuds so you could have them before you actually sit down.

As you walked, absentmindedly, of course, you bump into a rather tall and, might I add, breathtaking man with one of those 80s' mustaches—like the guy from that one season of American Horror Story. It rather suited him, but that's not what you were thinking as the words quickly spilled from your mouth:

"I'm so sorry," you said, southern drawl instantaneous. "Wasn't watching where I was goin'."

The man looked down at you, blue eyes curiously catching yours. He smiled, and you could feel your heart melt within you. Or maybe your lungs. It seemed hard to breathe for a moment.

"No worries, love," he said, a very British accent joining his words. He scrunched his nose a bit and moved out of your way, while the man behind him muttered something under his breath. "No harm done."

You return his smile, although hesitantly. God, was he gorgeous. But that was beside the point. You moved around him, knowing you probably looked like a mess—you had only spent two nights in Tokyo, and they weren't very restful. Skincare could only do so much to make you look awake and not like you've risen from the dead just hours prior.

You choose a seat nearby where the British man and his two friends were sitting, putting your backpack on the table just in front of you. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, making sure you still had your charger in the pack, before you set up your earbuds and your music.

Your eyes flickered over to the British man, not saying anything as you opened your preferred playlist. He briefly glanced back at you and sent a rather cheeky smile before he looked back to the man in front of him.

"Fuckin' hell, mate," Lemon said as he looked at his brother. The man had made him move just so he could have an eye on the American who bumped into him. "Go and talk to ‘em, yeah? Leave me out of it."

Tangerine rolled his eyes. "Fuck off," he said. "We gotta job, yeah? Speakin' of." He stopped and looked towards the White Death's son, blinking slowly for a moment. "You gonna tell us much else or are you keepin' us in the dark?"

The Son mumbled something under his breath, tiredly looking out the window. He didn't know why he was here, other than the two brothers saying they were hired by his dad to get him to safety.

Right. Safety. What a joke.

"Right, so," Tangerine began. "Our job is to keep you safe and to recover the briefcase with the ransom money inside. And I plan on completin' my job and keeping..."

Tangerine looked at his brother, narrowing his eyes. "Lemon."

Lemon looked up at him. "Hmm?"

"Where's the briefcase?"

"Oh, I stashed it."

Tangerine stared at him in admonishment for a bit longer than necessary. "The case, Lemon. Go get me the fucking case."

"We got his son. That was our job."

"Our job was to come back with his son and his 10 million." Tangerine groaned softly and looked out of the window, sucking in a breath. "Three words describe our situation right now. Do you know what they are?"

"Sure do," said Lemon. He held up a hand and counted them off as he spoke: "Saved his son."

"Motherfucker," Tangerine blurted. He went on his spiel about the White Death, which seemed to be quite imperative as Lemon hadn't read the email he forwarded to him. Of course he hadn't—when did he ever? Why did he bother?

"He asked for pros who wouldn't fuck up," Tangerine said. "Three words, Lemon. We are..."

"Fucked." They say the words together, and if it had been another time, perhaps just hours prior, it would have been fun. Not this time. No, this time, they knew they were in deep shit.

They needed to get that suitcase and quick.

They returned to the Son only for him to be... well, let's put it frankly, bleeding from his eye-sockets and mouth, and so very dead.

"Well, shit," Tangerine sucked in a breath as he looked at the boy who had called him a liability only moments earlier.

The two trained assassins set to work on making it look like he was merely sleeping, even going as far as giving him Momonga glasses. You never know.

Tangerine looked at Lemon, frowning deeply. "We need t' find that briefcase," he said.

"Right," Lemon returned, staring at the Son for a moment before he looked up at Tangerine, nodding. "Right. Phone's on me. See if that American you ran into saw anything. Never know, yeah?"

Tangerine narrowed his eyes and glanced over his shoulder, seeing the object of his curiosity. "Hm. Go, Lemon. You see the case, deal with whoever has it."

"All right, how do I do that? Talk to him, or, like, talk to him?"

"I don't know, why don't you tell him about the story about how Gordon met Percy and how Percy's now bleeding from his fucking eye sockets!"

Lemon scoffed and left his side, going down the opposite side of the train.

"He means kill him. Of course he does."

Tangerine took one last look to the boy before he made his way to you, just a few seats down. He saw that you were asleep—surely, if you had been awake, you would've said something, right? Right. He's assuming, anyway. He keeps walking, knowing that he's got to find this briefcase and fast or else he and Lemon may not get a chance to even think about which arm they'd rather have cut off.

About twenty minutes into your restless nap, there's a loud noise blaring in your earbuds, and you jolt awake, grabbing onto your phone. You paused it, heart pounding in your chest.

"Damn," you cursed, knowing it was only from the song and nothing more. This song was notorious for loud noises. You take out your earbuds, a soft groan escaping you. Might as well stretch your legs and use the restroom since you're awake. It didn't seem like sleep was going to come easy on this train.

A voice came over the intercom, saying something about stopping momentarily, but you didn't catch the name of the station.

You stood and stretched, looking towards where the British man had been. He's not there, and neither is his one friend, but the other is there, sleeping. He's got the strangest glasses on, but you say nothing of it.

"Bathroom," you mutter under your breath, looking over your shoulder. You see a sign and follow it, taking your phone with you just in case.

You're quick, doing your business and washing your hands all under two minutes. Must be a record—the airplane bathrooms are so much more different than this.

You go to leave and open the door, and once again, you're not paying attention. You nearly bump into the tall, handsome British man, but this time, he is paying attention.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, a soft huff escaping him. "Watch yourself, love," he said, a playful smile on his lips (like he's not currently in one of the most stressful situations he's ever been in). "You're gonna get yourself hurt, now, aren't ya?"

Wide eyed, you looked up at him. "Shit, I'm sorry," you said. "It's—hell, I can't even give you a good excuse, but I didn't mean to."

"Nah, you're alright, love, just watch yourself for me, yeah?"

He let go of your shoulders, and you almost find yourself missing the touch.

"Go back to your seat, yeah? Keep an eye out for anyone weird for me."

You blinked slowly but nodded anyway. "Yeah, sure," you said. "You—"

But before you can continue, he sees something in the corner of his eye—either that or he hears something. You're not really sure. He flashes you a soft smile before he walked past you, clearly on a mission.

You let out a soft sigh and walk back to your seat, sitting down quietly.

As you get there, the British man's friend is back, and with another man—you don't catch their conversation, but whatever it is is rather heated. You simply put your earbuds back in and let your head fall back, unable to stop your eyes from fluttering shut. There's a few noises, but the sleep is far too good to come out of. At least, for now it is.

At some point, you feel someone shaking you awake. You quickly open your eyes, seeing the British man sitting across from you. He's got a few cuts on his face—not something he had before. You sat up and check your phone, eyebrows furrowed.

"What are you—"

You'd only been asleep for another twenty minutes.

"You're cute, love," he said, grabbing your phone from you.

"Hey—"

He held up a finger to you and quickly typed in a text message to his own phone. When he heard the buzz, he handed your phone back to you.

"Where's your stop, hm?"

"Nagoya," you answered. "Why?"

"Get off sooner, yeah?"

"What?"

He gave you a cheeky smile. "Get off sooner, love," he said. "Conductor must've missed you cuz you were sleepin', but he was sayin' that everyone needs to get off before Nagoya. Somethin' about the train needed worked on."

You blinked slowly. Were you still sleeping? You felt like you were. "Why the hell would they do that for? That don't even make sense—"

"Love, do it," he said, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. "Get off on the next stop, yeah? I'll even give you the money for another ticket or somethin' if you need it."

You shook your head. "I can get another ticket, I just—"

There was something about the man that screamed danger, but no where did it scream liar. At least if he was a liar, maybe it was for good reason. Your gut feeling had been pretty good in the past, warning you against several things that could've gone terribly. Perhaps this was the Universe screaming at you to listen to it.

"Okay. I got the money. I'll just... I'll get off at the next stop."

He smiled softly at you. "Good. I'll be seein' you then, yeah? Keep yourself outta trouble."

He stood up, giving you a soft wink, before he left you in the quiet car.

You didn't see him again for the rest of the train ride, but you did listen to him. You got off at the next train stop and bought a new ticket, wondering if the cuts on his face had anything to do with his request.

It was a pretty nice warning, as crazy as that shit was.

Waiting for the next train, which would be there only momentarily, you pull out your phone. The only thing he had typed to his number was simple: Tangerine.

Was that codename for something? The fuck did fruit have to do with anything?

Nagoya, Japan.

A beautiful city with equally beautiful architecture (you'd be sure to visit the castle and the shrine after you finished exploring the city on your own terms).

You hadn't gotten a text from the handsome British man, but it didn't really bother you much. You didn't know him—just nearly ran into him a handful of times before he told you to get off the train.

Two days after the train ride to Nagoya, you find yourself on the streets, following your phone's GPS as best as you could to get to the castle. You should have just waved down a taxi cab, but you also wanted to experience the walk. That, in itself, was just as important as the journey over. Besides, your phone said only five minutes, but it seemed like it was re-routing and doing the exact opposite of being an accurate GPS.

You curse under your breath and go to type in another address in an attempt to see if it was just the castle address that was making your GPS wonky when you heard a familiar voice—you felt a familiar hand grab onto your shoulder.

"Be careful, love," the British man said, keeping you in your spot. You looked up—you're not even about to walk into anything, this time. You looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, hell," you blurted, wide eyed. "What the hell happened to you? Are you—" You pause, mouth gaped open as you look on in surprise. His friend, and that one long haired blonde guy, stand nearby. The one leaned up against the wall of a supermarket, while the other runs a hand through his blonde locks.

You looked up at him, lips parted. "Is that why you told me to get off the train?"

He gave you a pained smile. "Smart, love," he said.

There's a few people that pass by, mumbling about the sight of the rather bloodied and injured men.

"Shit," you said. "You—did you just come to Nagoya in hopes I'd still be here? What if I had been in Kyoto?"

"Guess some luck's on my side, then," he said.

"My—hell, come on, I've got a hotel room," you said. "You lot look like you've been to hell and back."

"Somethin' like that," the British man said.

"Shit," you mumbled once more, putting your hotel name back into your GPS. You had just come from there, but just in case, you didn't want to mess anything up. Especially not now. "Shit, dude, I don't even know your name—"

"Tangerine," he interrupted.

You blinked slowly as you began to walk. His friends follow behind.

"Like the fruit?" you question.

His friend snorted from behind the two of you. "Yeah, love, like the fruit."

You shrugged. "Codename?"

"Smart," Tangerine repeated, giving you a cheeky smile.

For someone who looked like he was in an immense amount of pain, he was sure cheerful.

You led them up to your hotel room, where the blonde immediately goes to the bathroom, running water in the sink and using it and a towel to try and clean some of the blood from his face.

Tangerine and the other, whom you now know as Lemon, sit on separate sides of the room—Lemon sits at the table and groans at the action, a hand on his side, while Tangerine sits on the edge of the bed.

There goes your plans to see the Nagoya Castle, but hell, this didn't seem like it would be anything you'd wanna miss out on. How often do you get three men in your hotel room like this?

Ah, fuck, scratch that—how often do you get a hot British man looking at you like that regardless of how beat up he currently looked?

You bit your lip and sit your phone on the dresser. "I, uh, my friend gave me a little kit of medicine and things before I left," you said, going to your open suitcase and pulling out a black bag. "Has like, bandaids and ibuprofen. Tums, maybe. I didn't even look to be honest."

You hand the bag to him.

Tangerine snorted softly, taking the bag from you and opening it up. You watch, seeing the scabs on his knuckles.

"Damn, what the hell happened to y'all?"

Tangerine glanced up at you, a small smile quirking on his lips. "All in due time," he said. "Don't think it's anything I wanna drag you into just yet."

You pursed your lips.

"Fuck," Tangerine mumbled. "This whole thing has been fuckin' bullocks," he said as he pulled out a couple of things from the kit.

"You can say that again," Lemon said, scoffing softly.

Tangerine tossed him a bottle of pain killers before he, himself, picked up a small bottle of antiseptic. "Be a doll and grab me a washcloth, yeah?"

You do as you're asked, moving past the blonde in the bathroom. He looked a bit worse for wear, but he seemed like he was doing far better than the other two.

You brought back the washcloth for Tangerine. "Can I help?"

"Nah, love, I'll be fine. Not the first time."

You grimaced. "Sounds painful."

"C'est la vie," Lemon said from where he sat, taking the unopened complementary water from the table and using it to take the pain killers. "You're a life saver, love."

"Hmm," you hummed, frowning softly as you looked at Tangerine.

He glanced up at you as he cleaned his knuckles. He had plenty of other places to clean, of course, but the idea of moving from his spot on the bed sounded like hell. His abdomen was screaming at him for just breathing.

"I never got your name," Tangerine softly said.

"Yeah," Lemon interjected. "Been callin' you his little American this whole time. Don't let him lie to you."

Tangerine blanched, glaring over at Lemon, before he looked up at you. "Maybe," he said. "Don't listen to him. He's a little shit-stirrer."

You smiled a bit. He's endearing if not... unconventional in his methods. Whatever that meant. You'd learn soon enough, it seemed.

You gave him your name.

He repeated it, and it was almost like heaven pouring from his lips as he spoke.

God, you'd have a hell of a time trying to explain this back home.

Tangerine snorted softly and finished cleaning up his knuckles—just on the one hand, though. He still had so much to get through.

"Must've made quite an impression if you come to Nagoya just to find me," you blurted, taking the bottle of antiseptic and the cloth from him. He didn't protest. He simply watched as you wet the other side of the cloth and took his hand in your own to clean his knuckles.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? The accent got me."

You blinked slowly, eyes flickering to his. "The accent?"

"Oh, yeah, love," he said. "Ladybug in there is an American, but you? It's like a whole other breed of American. I don't know if I can get enough of it."

Lemon scoffed and tossed the bottle of painkillers to his brother. "Stop flirting and let them clean your hand."

Tangerine rolled his eyes, watching your hands as they moved against his wounds.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"Sorry? For what?"

"For not having anything to really help you," you said. "I'm sure it woulda helped if I had a first aid kit or somethin'."

He raised an eyebrow. "Think you would've been insane for havin' a first aid kit when you're traveling all alone," he said. "Who woulda thought you'd run into little ol' me?"

"Little ol' you, hm?"

Tangerine's soft smile is unmistakable, but you make no mention of it. You let go of his hand and he examined it, letting out a soft hum. You did well enough, he supposed.

Tangerine let out a soft groan as a pain rippled through his abdomen. He laid back on the bed without another word, a hand resting on his body. This would be a hell of a pain to heal, but he was sure it would happen soon enough.

"Sorry for barging in on you like that, love," Lemon spoke up. He drew your attention away from Tangerine. "Tangerine over there kept quippin' on and on 'bout how he just had to see you again. Thought he was a broken record or some shit with how often he said it."

The handsome man in front of you didn't even object this time. He just went with it.

"Right, yeah, and what were you sayin'? Hope they have a nice hotel room that fits all us, yeah?"

"Absolutely not," he scoffed. "Don't be a prick."

Tangerine rolled his eyes. "Lemon—"

"—anyway," Lemon interjected. "We'll be out of your hair as soon as we possibly can. Don't want to outstay our welcome, and I'm sure you've got plans, hm?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"—we won't stay long, promise."

"No, I—I mean I do have plans, but you can stay as long as you need to."

Tangerine snorted softly and glanced at you from where he laid on his bed. "You're rather trusting, aren't you?"

You blinked slowly. "Well—"

"—be careful, love," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "You should really watch yourself, before you get yourself into trouble."

You parted your lips, and the words escaped you before you even thought to stop them: "Think I'm a bit too late for all that."

[8housevenus]

career in astrology

hii everyone, i wanted to talk about where in your birth chart you can see your potential jobs, career, and inflow of money. i will also go over how some of the planets manifest throughout your chart with it.

for starters, you want to look at your midheaven. the sign it is in, and planets you have aspecting it, as well as planets that fall under the 10th house are critically important. your midheaven represents you in the actual work field: 10th house represents the ways we might get there or what specifically speaks to us for our endeavors. check your 2nd house to see viable forms of income, the ways you can attain it, and expectations for your living. 8th house-6th house can also represent work life in terms of 8th (money from others or lended), 6th (work ethic & fixations).

career paths

having aries midheaven, mars in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile mars, or mars aspecting the midheaven can make one so driven to have an early start to their career. from personal experience, i know many aries placements that love being successful from an early age. very versatile career options, they love something that they can express their creative style while switching it up as often as can. they can also experience many burn outs and crash outs due to them having more spontaneous bursts of energy rather than consistent prolonged efforts. career paths best for these people would be anything more hands on; military, construction, teacher, social worker, business person, etc. because aries traditionally rules over the head region, these people want to indulge themselves in challenge & help challenge others.

celebrities with aries 10th house: elon musk, franz kafka, angelina jolie, kanye west.

taurus midheaven, venus in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct /sextile venus, venus aspecting midheaven these people love to make adjustments according to their fashion. they want a career that can show off their etiquette and cleanliness. something about showing themselves off as “perfection” or their arts as perfections makes these people highly intrigued into careers like; cooking/baking, niche businesses, clothing designers, interior designers, artists, singers, and influencers. they have sweet spots for being home made and brought up naturally, they take a while to get to their goals- but they will never lose sight of them.

celebrities with taurus 10th house: jessica alba, blake lively, margot robbie, drake, selena gomez

gemini midheaven, mercury in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct /sextile mercury, mercury aspecting midheaven would appreciate a lifestyle where they can endlessly express their opinions or concerns on topics. they like having it figured out from a young age. they seem attentive, quick minded, chameleons to the state of the world. they love to communicate everything because they “blend in” so much, they sometimes want to stand out the most. careers that suit these people are; activists/ public speaker, sometimes even temporary jobs resonate better for them, directors, communications, accountant, journalists, authors/illustrators, engineering.

celebrities with gemini in 10th house: kevin hart, brooke shields, kris jenner, madonna.

cancer midheaven, moon in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct /sextile moon, moon aspecting midheaven makes an individual more emotionally bonded to their careers, they need to do something that coincides with their morals. these people are very receptive in their workforce, willing to give and willing to treat their jobs/careers like it’s their baby. their work really is their life, they want to do careers can genuinely better people; therapist, social worker, nurse, dispatcher, personal assistants, instructors of some field.

celebrities with cancer in 10th house: jimmy carter, leonardo dicaprio, denzel washington, john f kennedy, kendrick lamar.

leo midheaven, sun in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile sun, sun aspecting midheaven creates a vibrant person, one who shines through their careers. they must have a career they truly enjoy and can encapsulate their essence. they want to be seen for what they do, and oftentimes they are noticed. they get applause a lot in their jobs, certificates, something where they can make a statement. they would preferably settle in careers that are bold; actors, musicians, public speakers, influencers, athletes.

celebrities with leo in the 10th: janet jackson, katy perry, diego costa, harry styles, diego maradona, lana del rey.

virgo midheaven, mercury in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile mercury, mercury aspecting midheaven makes one very peculiar about their field. they like to serve, aid, and assist. many like to do the work that no one else does, it makes them feel productive and extremely useful as they are. usually likes to go for health related, science related, or anything physically related as their careers. this can include; nurse, doctor, surgeon,, scientist, dentistry, athlete, physical therapist. anything where they can contribute to perplexing subjects, they are really drawn to.

celebrities with virgo in 10th house: usian bolt, joe biden, bruce lee, nelson mandela, neymar, thomas edison.

libra midheaven, venus in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile venus, venus aspecting midheaven makes a person more inclined to pursue a career with legal systems, politics, anywhere where equity lies. they believe their belief system is their biggest power, their fairness serves as admirability from others, can be very well liked in public space & looked up to. because of the venus influence, they appear very alluring in their careers. seems like naturalists to being effortlessly out there. can also be benefitted from others giving them money simply for little things. careers that libra midheaven can excel in; lawyer, political figure, micro influencer, model, police officer, actress, principals, managers.

celebrities with libra in 10th house: princess diana, ronaldo, kylie jenner, parison hilton, messi, malcolm x.

scorpio midheaven, pluto/mars in 10th, ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct mars or pluto, pluto aspecting ascendant makes an individual go for more darker careers- in the sense that they can dig deep into their and other’s psyche. they want to understand things that are deemed impossible, unsolvable, mysterious. they are drawn in by odds stacked against them. they are motivated by struggle & challenge. one where their path has life & death really coincide. careers that these people are suited for are; detectives, psychologists, analysts for their endeavors, forensic scientist, surgeon, police, psychics.

celebrities with scorpio in 10th: ariana grande, obama, megan fox, nicki minaj, kobe bryant, selena quintanilla, sza.

sagittarius midheaven, jupiter in 10th, ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct jupiter, jupiter aspecting ascendant is somebody who wants to expand in their careers, go further, likely to get a masters or bachelors. education is so important to them, the more they know the better. they love to try new things, new places, meet new people. they can become extremely abundant by their work and want to share some of their wisdom to the world. always want to subliminally teach something. careers for these people that suit them are; pilots, flight attendants, journalist, realtor, religious teacher, priest, social worker.

celebrities with sagittarius in 10th: michael jackson, abraham lincoln, hozier, jenna ortega, deepak chopra, nispey hussle.

capricorn midheaven, saturn in 10th, ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct saturn, saturn aspecting ascendant very determined people, persistent, and resilient to their work. one of the most ambitious to achieve their goals. since they were younger they’ve known that they are destined for making something out of themselves. seen as very serious and intimidating because they feel super protective over their reputation and paths. discipline comes a long way, they might even have to work twice as hard just to be where they are. careers for these people; business owner, corporate, consultant, dentists/surgeons, accountants, financial planners/advisors.

celebrities with capricorn in 10th: rihanna, billie eilish, nikola tesla, jeff bezos, jordan peterson, morgan freeman.

aquarius midheaven, saturn/uranus in 10th, ascendant trine/sextile/conjunct uranus, uranus aspecting ascendant gives one skills and abilities in things that others do not understand or find stressful. aquarius midheaven has a natural interest in difficult areas. they like coming up with different things, extremely innovative and creative. these people leave legacies in their area of interest, inflicting change and making hard things easier to understand is common for them. careers for these people; engineers, computer scientists, activists, mathematicians, -ologists of any kind, designers, transportation, autonomy.

celebrities with aquarius in 10th house: hilary clinton, neil armstrong, amy wine house, jared leto, will smith.

pisces midheaven, neptune in 10th, ascendant trine/conjunct/sextile neptune, neptune aspecting ascendant allows a person to be huge visionaries in their field. they have so many ideas, influx of projects, and they get inspired through absolutely everything. as contemplative as they are, they love leaving their options open. not all those who wander are lost type of vibe. they naturally love to give and it is important that they are at one with their careers. sometimes seems like they are so fit for what they do. it has to be something they feel at peace with or that doesn’t involve too many others; artists, writers, philosophers/psychologists, photographers, spiritualist, architects.

celebrities with pisces in 10th house: lady gaga, adele, van gogh, cher, kamala harris, shakespeare, lebron james.

remember, it is not just your midheaven that represents what you will do in this life, keep in mind of the others things like i stated earlier, also jupiter is very important when we talk about income here. depending on the house it is in will show you how you can attract that money. ex; jupiter in 11h, make money through similar ways an aquarius midheaven might. or they might find that it interests them to go after something that standardly an aquarius midheaven would. 6th house is how we can approach projects. ex; 6th house mars could have an assertive work style, communicative, sharp minded, calculated, determined to duty. 2nd house shows you how you are with money in general, ex; neptune in 2nd can make someone more reckless with spending, giving to others easily, or losing track of budgets. ex,if you have an 8th house mercury persay, you can get money lended a lot by siblings or close relatives, fellow coworkers. (if you have any in particular shoot me a message or comment it down below and i can let you know my inputs on yours).

thank you for reading and like i said if you need any clarification i will be more than happy to clarify!

[ruewrote]

𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: best friends to lovers, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: breathin by ariana grande WORD COUNT: 889 REQUESTED: yes

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

it was a warm evening, the kind that made the air feel soft and lazy, perfect for lounging in the comfort of josh’s apartment. you were both sprawled out on his couch, a half empty pizza box on the coffee table, the tv playing some random show that neither of you were really paying attention to.

josh sat beside you. one leg tucked beneath him as he scrolled aimlessly through his phone. his face was lit by the soft glow of the screen, there were moments, like now, when it was hard to ignore your feelings for him. 

josh suddenly broke the silence with a snicker. “hey, do you remember that stupid pact we made in high school?”

you blinked, glancing over at him. “uh, which one? we made a lot of stupid pacts.”

he laughed. “true, but i’m talking about the ‘if we’re both single at 40, we’ll get married and have a baby’ one.” he set his phone down, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “we were such dorks.”

caught off guard you looked up at him wide eyed, “yeah, we were. but, you know… it wasn’t the worst idea in the world.”

josh raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly with a teasing grin. “oh, really? so you’re telling me you’re still down for it?”

you laughed, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck. “i mean, if we’re still single at 40, why not? you’d make a decent backup plan.”

“decent?” he scoffed, pretending to be offended. “i think i’d be a pretty great backup plan, thank you very much.”

you rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “okay, fine. you’d be a great backup plan. happy?”

josh leaned back against the cushions, crossing his arms with an exaggerated nod. “much better.” there was a pause, and then, in a quieter voice, he added, “i’m serious, though. you think you’d actually go through with it?”

the playful mood shifted just a little, enough to make you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. he wasn’t looking at you, his gaze focused somewhere on the tv screen, but his jaw was tight, like he was waiting for your answer. 

you swallowed, your heart picking up speed. “i mean… yeah. i think i would.” you hesitated, then forced a light laugh. “assuming we’re both still single by then. which, you know, probably won’t happen.”

josh didn’t laugh this time. instead, he turned his head, his eyes locking onto yours. “but if we were? you wouldn’t mind… being with me?”

your pulse raced, you felt a strange mix of excitement and panic building inside you. was this it? was he finally–?

“well…” you shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “you’re not the worst option out there.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, the usual teasing glint in his eyes faded, replaced by something warmer. more serious. “good to know.”

there was a beat of silence, and then josh leaned forward, his tone shifting back into playful territory. “but if we’re going to go through with this, i need some assurances.”

you furrowed your brow, intrigued despite yourself. “assurances? like what?”

“well, for one, if we’re having a kid together, i’m not doing all the midnight feedings by myself. you’re in this with me, 50/50.”

you laughed, relieved by the lighter tone. “deal. i’ll be there, half asleep and covered in spit up right next to you.”

“good,” he said, grinning again. but then, before the moment could pass, his voice softened again. “but, you know… i don’t think we’ll need to wait until 40.”

you froze. the words hung between you. 

your stomach flipped as your eyes searched his, wondering if you’d heard him right. “what… what do you mean?”

josh hesitated, his fingers tapping nervously against his leg, finally, he let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, looking away for just a second before meeting your gaze again.

“i mean…” he swallowed hard, his voice a little shaky now. “i don’t know why we’d wait that long when… when maybe i’ve been kind of hoping this whole time that we wouldn’t need a ‘backup plan.’ you know?”

your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing to catch up with what he was saying. “josh, are you saying–?”

he cuts you off, his smile small but real. “i like you. i really like you. more than just best friends. and i know it’s risky and maybe i’m an idiot for bringing it up now, but… if you feel the same way, i’d rather not wait until we’re 40.”

for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. you’d imagined this scenario a hundred times, but now that it was happening, you didn’t know what to say.

so instead, you leaned forward, your heart in your throat, and kissed him.

The kiss started gently, almost hesitant, as if you were both feeling your way through unfamiliar territory. But when Josh’s hand lifted to cup your face, the connection shifted, growing more intense as all of your worries seemed to fall away. After a few lingering moments, you parted, breathless and a little stunned, eyes wide as you stared at each other in quiet disbelief.

“so…” you whispered, your forehead resting against his. “no backup plan, then?”

josh laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“no backup plan.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[sykoangels]

RING RING

kinktober prompt : phone sex!

pairing: fem!reader x emily prentiss

warnings: praising / masturbation / established relationship

author note: happy kinktober!! also should I do more criminal minds fics let me know please!!

Being married to an FBI agent comes with its own unique set of perks and challenges. From the constant protection and occasional vacation days to the intriguing yet sometimes disturbing stories that come home with them, there's never a dull moment. However, being married to the unit chief of the behavioral analysis unit also brings its own set of responsibilities and considerations.

Agent Prentiss is a hardworking woman you met on a case in Seattle. You thought she was pretty cute, but it wasn't really clear if she was into women. After the case ended, which was pretty gruesome, you kept in touch and started learning more about each other. This blossomed into romance, then marriage, and now you're living in Washington DC with her, taking care of your kid named Sergio, who is just her cat.

Ever since you and Emily tied the knot, her frequent case trips made her feel like a stranger at times. In the early days, it strained your relationship as it seemed like you hardly ever saw each other. And when she did come home, she was often too worn out from her unavoidable challenging cases to engage in much else. You understood the demanding nature of her job and admired her dedication to making a difference, but you couldn't help but long for your wife's presence.

Currently, Emily is on a case in Baton Rouge. I’m trying to solve some mysterious death that happened in that area. She was supposed to be coming home today, but unfortunately, due to the severity of the case, she has to stay there an extra week with the team. It was an ideal and was kind of heartbreaking in your opinion. All he wanted to do was spend time with your wife, but there was this overwhelming feeling that you had for the past couple of days while she was gone. The feeling of desire deep inside of your core. It didn’t help that your house smelled like Emily, especially on her side of the closet. You would go wear her shirts from time to time taking in her scent that lingers behind.

As night fell, you carefully closed up the house. The lights in every room dimmed and then went out, leaving only the gentle glow of the bedside lamp in your bedroom. The entire house was immaculately clean, with every surface wiped down to a pristine shine. As you moved from room to room, you noticed the faint scent of red wine and rich mahogany, mingling with the cool draft of air from the vents.

You chose to ring up Emily as usual, especially since it was getting late. This was your customary practice whenever she was involved in a case. The night in Baton Rouge was serene, with the moon casting a gentle glow over the tranquil neighborhood. Its soft light filtered through every window and seeped through the gaps in the hotel curtains, bathing the surroundings in a serene glow. Emily heard the vibrations of her phone, praying and hoping it wasn’t work. She just wanted to rest for a little while, but a smile appeared on her face when she realized it was her lovely wife. She immediately answered you can almost feel the smile on her face through the phone.

Emily’s voice crackled through the speaker, a mix of relief and exhaustion. "Hey, babe," she said, her tone warm but tinged with fatigue. "I was hoping it was you." "Miss me already?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood. The silence on the other end of the line was punctuated by the rustle of sheets as she shifted in bed. "Always," she replied softly, the smile in her voice unmistakable. "How’s Sergio? Did he eat his dinner?" You chuckled, glancing at the cat lounging lazily on the windowsill, bathed in the moonlight. "He’s fine. Just enjoying the view. But seriously, Em, how are you holding up?"

There was a pause, and you could almost see her running a hand through her hair, the same gesture she made when deep in thought. "It’s been tough," she admitted. "This case… it’s one of the worst I’ve seen. But hearing your voice helps. It really does." You leaned back against the pillows, the warmth of the bed enveloping you. "Then let’s make it worth your while," you said, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Tell me what you need, Emily." Her breath hitched, and you could hear the faint echo of her heartbeat quickening. "God, I need you," she whispered back, her voice thick with longing. "But I can’t… not right now."

"Then let’s do this," you suggested, your heart pounding in your chest. "Close your eyes, imagine me here with you." "Alright," she murmured, the mattress creaking as she settled back. "I’m closing my eyes… and you’re lying next to me, your hand on my thigh."You closed your eyes too, picturing her silhouette under the dim light of the bedside lamp. Your hand drifted down your own body, mimicking the movement you knew she longed for. "Good girl," you breathed, your thumb brushing over your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. "Now, tell me what you want." "I want…" she hesitated, her voice breaking slightly, "I want to feel your touch, everywhere."

You bit your lip, the sensation sending a jolt of arousal through you. "Describe it to me, Emily. Tell me where you want me to touch you." "My neck," she said quickly, her voice trembling. "Kiss my neck, baby. Feel the pulse there, taste me." Your mouth watered at the thought, your fingers trailing down to your damp panties . "And then?" you prompted, your voice husky. "My collarbone," she continued, her words coming faster now. "Let your lips slide down, trace the curve of my shoulder… oh God, I can almost feel it."

"My breasts," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Lick around the edges, tease the nipples… make them hard for you." You groaned, your fingers circling your own clit, mimicking the motion of your tongue. "And what about down here?" you asked, your voice shaky. "What do you want me to do to you?" "Touch me," she pleaded, the vulnerability in her voice making your stomach flip. "Slide your fingers inside me, feel how wet I am for you… please." You didn’t need any more encouragement. Your fingers found their way past your folds, pushing inside with a gasp. "Oh Emily," you moaned, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Are you touching yourself too?"

"Yes," she gasped, the word torn from her throat. "I’m stroking myself, just like you told me to. God, it feels so good." "Not as good as you’ll feel soon," you promised, your fingers curling inside you. "I’m going to make you come, Emily. Just like this." "Please," she whimpered, the desperation in her voice fueling your own arousal. "I need it… I need you."

You moved faster, your thumb pressing against your clit in rhythm with your thrusts. "Tell me what you see," you demanded, desperate to lose yourself in her fantasy. "Paint the picture for me." "I’m lying here," she panted, her voice strained, "my legs spread wide, waiting for you. Your hands are everywhere, teasing, touching… driving me wild." "And then?" you pressed, your own orgasm building with every word.

"Your face between my legs," she said, her voice breaking. "Your tongue… oh God, your tongue sliding inside me, licking, sucking… making me scream." You cried out, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. "Emily, I’m coming," you gasped, your whole body shuddering with the force of it. "Me too," she sobbed, her voice raw with emotion. "Oh God, yes… right there…"

You collapsed back against the pillows, your breathing ragged, your body still humming with aftershocks. The line went quiet, the connection between you both still humming with the intensity of the moment. You lay there, your heart still pounding, the memory of her words echoing in your ears. "Wow," she breathed, her voice filled with wonder. "That was... intense." "Mmhmm," you agreed, your own body still humming with residual pleasure. "We make quite the team." She laughed softly, the sound warming your heart. "Yeah, we do. Can't wait to be in the same room again." "Neither can I," you admitted, your voice filled with longing.

"Agreed," she said, her tone serious. "Love you, Y/N .""Love you too, Emily," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion. "Sweet dreams.""You too," she whispered before hanging up.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, the memory of their shared moment still fresh in your mind. The taste of her words lingered on your lips, the scent of their mutual arousal in the air, and the thought of the warmth of their bodies pressed against each other. It was a perfect night, one that would be etched into your memory forever.

[rootedinrevisions]

Between Sets and Scenes

SUMMARY: As a dedicated personal trainer in Washington D.C., you've worked with high-profile clients before, but when actor Glen Powell steps into your gym, life takes an unexpected turn. What starts as a simple fitness transformation for Glen quickly evolves into something more when the lines between professionalism and attraction begin to blur. A chance encounter outside the gym leads to late-night conversations, unexpected connections, and the realization that sometimes the best chemistry happens off-screen. But with Glen's rising star and your grounded life, can you keep things casual, or is something deeper already taking shape?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 5.8K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The familiar ping of your inbox echoed through your office as you finished typing up a nutrition plan for one of your long-term clients. Leaning back in your chair, you took a sip of your water, already mentally preparing yourself for the evening rush at the gym. It was mid-spring, the time of year when everyone suddenly remembered they had vacations or summer plans that required them to get into shape. Your calendar was filling up fast, but you thrived in the chaos.

As you clicked through your unread emails, one subject line caught your eye.

Transfer Client: Glen Powell – Ultimate Performance, Los Angeles.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Glen Powell? As in the Glen Powell—actor, movie star, all-around charmer? You quickly opened the email, skimming through the details.

Eddie here, from the L.A. branch. We’ve got a transfer for you—our client, Glen Powell. He’s been working with us for a while, getting in shape for a bunch of his previous roles. Glen’s a solid guy, no diva attitude, but he’s wrapping up filming in D.C. and needs a few weeks of training before his next project. Figured you’d be the best person for the job.

I’ve attached his info and previous programs. Let me know if you need anything else, but honestly, Glen’s a hard worker. You shouldn’t have any problems. 

Just, uh, maybe keep an eye on the tequila intake.

Cheers,Eddie

You chuckled at the tequila comment but focused on the rest of the email. This was definitely an unexpected assignment, but you were more intrigued than overwhelmed. A high-profile client like Glen meant there was a level of professionalism and discretion required, but you had handled demanding clients before. Glen Powell would be no different… right?

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be worth getting a bit more insight from Eddie before you met with Glen. He’d worked with Glen before and could offer valuable information that a few attached files couldn’t convey. You reached for your phone, quickly dialing Eddie's number. After a couple of rings, the line connected, and Eddie’s laid-back demeanor and accent came through.

“Hey! I had a feeling you’d call.”

You laughed softly, leaning back in your chair. “I couldn’t resist. Glen Powell, huh? Big name. I wanted to get some inside scoop on him before I officially start working with him.”

“Totally understandable,” Eddie replied. “Glen’s honestly one of the easiest clients we’ve had. No diva behavior, no slacking off. He shows up, puts in the work, and follows the plan.”

“That’s good to hear,” you said, relieved. “Anything in particular I should keep an eye out for? You mentioned the tequila?”

Eddie chuckled on the other end of the line. “Yeah, man loves his tequila. It’s the only food from our restricted list he really ever eats. He’s not gonna go overboard, but just be aware that he likes to unwind with a drink now and then. He’s been keeping up with his workouts since our last session, so he’s not starting from scratch.”

“So he’s already in pretty good shape?”

“Definitely,” Eddie confirmed. “He looks great, but he’s looking to tighten up for this rom-com he’s shooting soon. Wants to get that beach body look, you know? He’s got a few areas he wants to tone up, but overall, you’re just fine-tuning.”

You made a few notes as Eddie spoke, already thinking of some adjustments you could make to Glen’s program to push him toward his goals. “Got it. Anything else I should know about his routine?”

“He sticks to his meal plans pretty well. I mean, the guy’s a professional at this point. You’ll probably notice he doesn’t need a lot of hand-holding. But don’t be afraid to push him—he responds well to a challenge.”

You nodded, appreciating the insight. “Thanks, Eddie. I’m excited to get started with him.”

“You’ll do great. Just keep it fun, keep him motivated, and I’m sure you two will get along fine.”

After wrapping up the call with Eddie, you hung up and set your phone down, staring at Glen’s profile on your screen. This wasn’t just a regular client. This was Glen Powell—known for his charm, his dedication to his craft, and apparently, his love for tequila.

With a deep breath, you stood up and stretched. Time to prepare for tomorrow, when you’d officially meet your new high-profile client. You had a feeling this wouldn’t be your typical training session, but you were ready to rise to the challenge.

A week had passed since your conversation with Eddie, and you’d spent the time crafting the perfect workout plan for Glen. He didn’t need a complete overhaul, just some fine-tuning to get him into peak shape for his upcoming role. 

Now, sitting at the front desk of the gym, you were watching the clock, knowing Glen would be arriving any minute.

The gym was quieter than usual—late morning hours had a way of lulling the space into a calm before the after-work crowd flooded in. You glanced over at the door, almost on instinct, when the bell chimed. And there he was.

Glen Powell.

He strolled in with that signature effortless charm, his stride confident but relaxed. His black t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, and his black athletic shorts showed off his toned legs. A baseball cap turned backward, completed the look. Even with his casual attire, he had an undeniable presence.

You stood up from the desk, offering him a smile. “You must be Glen.”

His grin matched yours as he walked up to you, extending a hand. “That’s me. And you must be [Your Name], right?”

You nodded, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and warm—just as you’d expected. “That’s right. Good to meet you in person.”

“Likewise,” he said, his eyes scanning the gym behind you for a moment before settling back on you. “Eddie’s told me great things about you.”

“Oh, did he?” you laughed softly, appreciating the compliment. “He said some pretty good things about you too.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head with a mock-serious look. “Well, I hope I live up to the hype.”

“I’m sure you will,” you replied, motioning toward the gym’s main floor. “Ready to get started?”

His smile widened, and he adjusted the strap of the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”

You led him toward a quieter corner of the gym where you had the session planned out. “So, Eddie filled me in on what you’ve been up to, but I’d like to hear from you. What’s your goal for these next few weeks?”

As Glen set his bag down, he glanced around at the equipment before turning his focus back to you. “I’ve been trying to keep up with my workouts, but this next role has a lot of, uh... shirtless scenes.” He laughed lightly, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. “I want to lean out a bit more, just tighten everything up.”

You nodded, pulling up his customized workout plan on your tablet. “I’ve got just the thing for you. We’ll be focusing on toning your core, arms, and legs—nothing too extreme, but enough to get you where you need to be before filming starts.”

Glen leaned over slightly to glance at the plan, nodding in approval. “Looks good. You’ve got me doing some heavy lifts, huh?”

You smiled, sensing his enthusiasm. “I do. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure to push you without burning you out.”

He chuckled, clearly ready to dive in, but before you moved toward the weights, you stopped him with a quick smile. “Before we get started, though, I need to take some baseline measurements.”

Glen raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Measurements?”

You nodded, setting the tablet down. “Yeah, just so I can document your progress over the next four weeks. It'll help us both see how far you’ve come when you’re a couple weeks in, especially if you’re aiming to get more toned.”

“Fair enough,” Glen said, stepping back as you grabbed a tape measure from your desk. “You’re the boss.”

He stood still, arms slightly raised as you started taking the first measurement around his chest. You worked quickly, not making it awkward, but there was no denying the closeness as you measured his biceps next.

“Okay, now your waist,” you said, dropping to one knee to wrap the tape measure around his torso.

Glen chuckled lightly, the sound relaxed. “This part’s always the most nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

You laughed softly in return. “It’s not that bad. Besides, you’re already in great shape. This is just to see how much progress you make in the next few weeks.”

“You say that now,” he joked, but the smile he flashed was playful, clearly at ease with the process.

After finishing his waist measurement, you stepped back and jotted down the numbers. “All set. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Glen shook his head, still smiling. “I’ve survived worse.”

“Well, I’ll be making sure to push you just enough to keep it interesting.” You gave him a grin as you set aside the tape measure and picked up your tablet again, ready to log the details. “Alright, now we’re ready. Let’s get started.”

As you both headed toward the weights area, you couldn’t help but notice the ease with which Glen navigated the gym. He wasn’t just a celebrity going through the motions—he was here to work. And something about his grounded, no-nonsense attitude put you at ease, too.

“So,” Glen said, stretching out his arms before reaching for a dumbbell, “how long have you been with Ultimate Performance?”

“About five years now. I started as an intern after getting my degree in sports science, then worked my way up. Now I’m doing personal training full-time.”

“Five years,” he said with a nod, looking impressed. “That’s awesome. I’ve only heard good things about this place.”

“Glad to hear it,” you replied, as you both moved through the warm-up. “And since we’re talking about that—Eddie warned me about your... tequila habits.”

Glen laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, yeah. Guilty. But I promise to keep it in check.”

“Good to know,” you said, smiling as you moved into the first set of exercises. “As long as you put in the work like Eddie says you do, I’ll let you have a cheat day here and there.”

His grin didn’t falter, but his focus shifted, now locked in as he began his first round of squats. You observed his form, making minor adjustments here and there, impressed by his natural athleticism.

It wasn’t long before the playful back-and-forth gave way to the steady rhythm of the workout, Glen pushing himself with the same dedication Eddie had spoken so highly of.

By the time you moved to the free weights, his shirt was damp with sweat, but he never complained or asked to slow down. Glen had a drive that reminded you why you loved working with serious clients—it wasn’t just about the physical change. It was the discipline, the effort, the focus. And Glen had all of that.

By the time you got to the final set of exercises, Glen was visibly feeling the burn. His breathing had picked up, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. You couldn't help but admire how hard he was working, despite the intensity.

As Glen set the weights down after his last set of deadlifts, he straightened up and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, flashing you a tired but amused smile. “You weren’t kidding about this workout plan. You sure you’re not taking it easy on me?”

You laughed softly, meeting his gaze. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he caught his breath. “Guess I can’t argue with that logic.” He placed his hands on his hips, still winded but clearly impressed. “I’ll be feeling this tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Probably,” you admitted with a grin. “But that just means you’re making progress. A little soreness is good—it’s how you know your muscles are working.”

“Good to know,” Glen replied with a smirk. “I’ll remind myself of that when I can’t walk tomorrow.”

You shook your head, amused by his playful banter. “You’ll be fine. We’ll take it day by day, and by the end of this, you’ll be in even better shape than you were before.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Better than before, huh?”

You shrugged confidently. “That’s the goal.”

Glen flashed you a grin, wiping down the equipment as he finished cooling down. “Alright then, Coach. I’ll trust you to get me there.”

* * * *

It was one of those weekends where you finally had a moment to breathe. You’d been pushing through long days at the gym, so a girls' night out was exactly what you needed. The bar was buzzing with energy—packed enough to feel lively but not too crowded. You sipped your drink, laughing with your friends as the music pulsed in the background.

A larger group walked in, but you barely glanced their way, too caught up in the conversation at your table. Washington D.C. was always filled with all types, so it wasn’t unusual for new faces to pass through. But after a while, you noticed your friends exchanging glances, their eyes darting toward the bar.

“What?” you asked, curious about what had captured their attention.

Your friend leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper as she nodded toward the bar. “Isn’t that...?”

You turned your head, following their gaze—and there he was. Glen Powell. Standing at the bar, his familiar smile in place as he chatted with the bartender. He looked effortlessly casual, wearing a simple grey t-shirt and dark jeans, blending in with the crowd in a way only someone like him could. He seemed completely relaxed, enjoying his night off with a group of friends or maybe coworkers, a drink in hand.

Your heart skipped for a moment, but you quickly dismissed the thought. He was a client, nothing more. It wasn’t unusual for him to be out, enjoying himself. You took a sip of your drink, willing yourself not to think too much about it.

But as the night went on, you found your drink dwindling, and you knew you’d need a refill soon. “I’m gonna grab another drink,” you said to your friends, sliding out of the booth.

As you approached the bar, you felt the press of the crowd around you. You waved at the bartender, but before you could place your order, you heard a voice behind you.

“Should I be worried about my trainer drinking on a weekend?”

You turned, and there was Glen, standing beside you with a teasing smile. His eyes were bright with amusement, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a grin that you couldn’t help but mirror.

You raised your glass in a playful toast. “I’m off-duty,” you said with a smirk. “Besides, I’m not the one who needs to watch their tequila intake, remember?”

Glen laughed, leaning slightly closer as if the conversation was just between the two of you. “You caught me.” He glanced at the glass in his hand and then back at you. “I’ll take it easy. Don’t want you to give me a lecture at the gym on Monday.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“Nah,” he replied, his voice warm. “But you don’t go easy on me, that’s for sure.” He glanced down at your glass. “Looks like you’re due for a refill though. Mind if I grab that one for you?”

It was an offer so casual, so easy, that for a second you almost forgot the circumstances—he was your client, after all. But his tone was friendly, his expression open and relaxed, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Only if it’s not tequila,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him with a playful grin.

He laughed again, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Deal. I’ll stick to something that won’t get me in trouble with my trainer.”

You smiled, and before you could even protest, Glen signaled the bartender. “Another for her, and I’ll take one too,” he said, his voice smooth but casual, as though he wasn’t really paying for your drink but just sharing in a moment.

The bartender moved efficiently, and within seconds, two fresh glasses were placed in front of you. You picked up yours, the coolness of the glass meeting your hand as you glanced up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, that easy grin still in place. “I figured it might soften the blow when you destroy me in the gym next week.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, so you’re buttering me up now?”

“Is it working?”

The way he said it, with just the right mix of playfulness and charm, had you smiling despite yourself. He wasn’t being pushy, wasn’t crossing any lines—just having fun with the moment.

You took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid refreshing after the heat of the crowded bar. “I’m still going to push you hard on Monday, just so you know.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering just enough to feel like a secret between the two of you. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results, right?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his words, recognizing your own mantra being thrown back at you. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background as you stood there with Glen, the conversation flowing easily, as if you were just two people sharing a drink rather than client and trainer.

“So, is this your usual spot?” Glen asked, leaning an elbow on the bar as he turned his full attention to you.

“Not really,” you admitted. “It’s more of an impromptu girls' night kind of thing. What about you? Out with friends?”

“Yeah, wrapping up a long week of filming,” he said, motioning toward the group in the back. “Figured we’d blow off some steam before the craziness starts up again next week.”

You nodded, understanding. “Well, you deserve it. Just don’t go overboard. I don’t want to have to kick your ass on Monday for drinking too much.”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ll try to keep it under control, but no promises.”

“Noted,” you said with a smirk, the comfortable rhythm of the conversation settling between you both. There was something almost effortless about it—just enough teasing to keep it fun, but not too much to cross the line into anything more than friendly banter.

Still, as you stood there at the bar with Glen, the energy around you shifting just slightly, it was hard to ignore the way your heart raced just a little faster. You quickly pushed the thought away. He was your client, after all. This was just a chance encounter on a Saturday night—nothing more.

“Anyway,” Glen said after a moment, glancing at your now-refilled drink, “I better get back to the group. But don’t worry, I’ll be ready for whatever workout you throw at me on Monday.”

You raised your glass in a lighthearted toast. “You’d better be.”

With a final smile, Glen gave you a nod and made his way back to his friends, leaving you standing at the bar, a faint smile lingering on your lips as you watched him walk away.

You made your way back to the booth where your friends were sitting, trying to act like your quick conversation at the bar hadn’t just sent a small thrill through your chest. As soon as you sat down, though, you realized there was no hiding anything from them. Their eyes were all wide, gleaming with curiosity, and they immediately leaned in.

“Okay, spill,” one of your friends demanded, barely able to contain her excitement. “What was that?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “What do you mean?”

Another friend nudged your arm playfully. “Don’t act like you don’t know! That was Glen Powell, wasn’t it?”

You blinked, then gave a slow nod, not quite ready for the tidal wave of questions that was sure to follow. “Yeah… that was Glen.”

Their jaws practically dropped in unison.

“Oh my God,” One of them breathed. “You’re telling me you’ve been casually talking to Glen Powell at the bar this whole time you’ve been gone?”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you replied quickly, trying to wave off the moment as you took a sip of your drink. “We just ran into each other, that’s all.”

One of their eyes narrowed as she leaned in even closer. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you mention a ‘high-profile client’ a couple of weeks ago? Are you telling me Glen Powell is the guy you’ve been working with at the gym?”

You sighed, knowing there was no getting around it now. “Okay, yes. I’ve been working with him for a couple of weeks. But seriously, it’s nothing. Just professional.”

Their eyes nearly bulged out of their heads as they processed that revelation.

“He’s your client?” One of them echoed in disbelief. “How did you not tell us it was him?”

You gave a half-shrug, trying to play it cool. “I mean, I couldn’t exactly name-drop him. It’s a work thing, you know? Confidentiality and all that.”

“Oh, please,” one of them said with a wave of her hand. “You’re too modest. Glen Powell is out there starring in movies, and you’ve been working with him to get him in shape? That’s insane.”

“It’s really not that crazy,” you insisted, feeling your cheeks warm under their eager stares. “He’s just another client.”

“Just another client?” Another one repeated incredulously. “I’m sorry, but you can’t tell me that conversation at the bar wasn’t flirty. He was totally into you.”

You laughed, shaking your head again. “It wasn’t flirting. We were just joking around. If anything, I was warning him about his workout on Monday after all that tequila he’s probably going to drink tonight.”

One of your friends leaned back with a knowing smile. “Oh, come on. He totally offered to buy your drink, didn’t he?”

You hesitated for a moment, then gave a sheepish nod. “Yeah… he did. But it wasn’t a big deal! He was just being nice.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice? Or maybe a little flirty?”

You sighed, trying to downplay it. “It wasn’t like that. He was just joking around. Honestly, we talked more about his workout plan than anything else.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, her tone teasing. “I’m sure it was all about the workout plan.”

You could feel their eyes on you, the playful smiles they exchanged as they leaned in with the kind of curiosity only good friends could get away with.

“Seriously,” you insisted, though your grin betrayed you. “He’s a client. It’s not like that.”

Your friends weren’t convinced. “Well, it sure looked like something to me. The way he was talking to you at the bar? He didn’t look like he was thinking about squats and deadlifts, that’s for sure.”

Another one chimed in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yeah, and that whole ‘watch your tequila intake’ thing? That was prime trainer-to-client flirting material.”

You laughed again, leaning back in your seat as the teasing continued. “It wasn’t flirting,” you repeated, though their playful accusations were starting to wear down your defenses.

“Right,” one of the girls said with a wink. “Well, even if it wasn’t, he clearly likes talking to you. So maybe that’s a sign of something.”

One of the others nodded, her expression turning a bit more serious. “Hey, we’re just saying—if something does happen, you have our full support.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship settle around you. “Thanks, but really, it’s all professional. I’m not looking for anything more.”

One of the girls raised her glass in a toast. “To keeping it professional… but maybe hoping for a little fun along the way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you clinked glasses with her. “I’ll drink to that.”

As you took a sip, though, your thoughts wandered back to the easy conversation you’d had with Glen at the bar. Sure, it was just work—just a client interaction—but there had been something undeniably lighthearted, something that had left you smiling long after he’d walked away.

As the night went on, you found yourself stealing glances at Glen from your spot at the booth, the laughter of your friends fading into the background. You couldn’t help but notice the easy charm he exuded, even as he joked with his friends at the bar. It was hard not to smile every time you thought about your previous conversations. The playful banter between you two had definitely sparked something beyond a simple trainer-client dynamic.

After a while, you decided to venture back to the bar for another drink, this time determined to keep the mood light. As you approached, Glen noticed you immediately, his face breaking into a grin.

“Hey! Look who it is,” he called out, leaning against the bar with a casual confidence. “Back for another?”

You chuckled, leaning against the bar beside him. “What can I say? You have to stay hydrated, right?”

He laughed a warm sound that made you feel more at ease. “True. So, what’s your game plan for the weekend?”

“Honestly? Just a girls' night tonight. You know, drinks, gossip—typical stuff,” you said, your gaze lingering on him as you took a sip of your drink.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds fun. Any exciting plans with the girls?”

You shrugged. “Nothing too crazy. Just catching up. What about you? Any plans for the weekend?”

Glen leaned closer, lowering his voice slightly. “I was thinking of having a quiet night, maybe get some takeout on the way home. But who knows? My plans could change.”

You smirked, noticing the suggestive undertone in his words. “Oh? What kind of changes do you have in mind?”

He met your gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Well, I could be convinced to do something more… interesting if the right company showed up.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, caught off guard by the implication behind his words. “Interesting? Like what?”

“Maybe a movie night? You know, two people just relaxing and enjoying some downtime,” he suggested, his tone playful yet serious.

“Sounds tempting,” you replied, your heart racing a little faster at the thought. “What kind of movies do you like?”

“Rom-coms, obviously,” he said with a wink. “I’m an actor, after all. Gotta stay on brand.”

You laughed, but then the conversation shifted. “So… any significant others I should know about?” you asked, genuinely curious.

He shook his head, his expression turning thoughtful. “Nope, just me. I’ve been focusing on work mostly.”

“Same here,” you admitted. “I’m single, too. Just haven’t had the time to meet anyone.”

“Funny how that works,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you. “Two busy people, both single.”

There was a charged silence between you as you both processed the moment, the playful tension hanging in the air. Glen shifted slightly closer, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “You know, it’s refreshing to meet someone who gets it. Not many people can understand the kind of schedule I keep.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “Yeah, I'm sure it can be tough.”

“Maybe we should change that,” he suggested, his voice lower now. “Have some more ‘interesting’ nights.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart racing at the unspoken invitation. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Just then, as the night began to wind down, you glanced at your phone to check the time. “Wow, it’s getting late. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

“Yeah, it sneaks up on you,” he said, glancing around. “Are you getting an Uber home?”

You nodded, a hint of reluctance creeping in. “Yeah, I should probably call one.”

Glen frowned slightly, then offered, “Let me give you a ride home. I don’t want you waiting out here for an Uber.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. It was tempting, but you couldn’t shake the professional boundaries. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”

“Not at all,” he insisted, his smile warm and inviting. “I insist. Plus, it’ll give us more time to chat. And, you know, I can promise not to make you do any burpees in the car.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating. “Okay, if you insist.”

As you both walked outside, the warm spring air wrapped around you. Glen kept the conversation light as you walked to his car, and you found yourself enjoying his company even more. Once you were inside, he turned to you, the playful atmosphere returning.

“So, how bad my pis my punishment going to be on Monday for the drinks I had tonight?” He asked, his gaze locking onto yours.

You smirked, leaning in a little closer. “I might just add some extra reps to your routine.”

His smile widened, and suddenly the air felt charged again. You could feel the intensity building between you, the chemistry undeniable.

“Bring it on,” he replied, his voice dropping lower. “I can handle it.”

And before you knew it, the space between you disappeared. Glen leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet electrifying kiss.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you realized you’d crossed a line, but it felt exhilarating. You were no longer just trainer and client; you were something else entirely.

“Wow,” you breathed, your heart racing.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Wow, indeed.”

As Glen pulled out of the bar's parking lot, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in your stomach. The city lights blurred past the windows, and you glanced over at him, catching his eyes focused on the road, a slight smile playing on his lips.

When you arrived at your apartment, you hesitated for just a moment before inviting him in. “Do you want to come in? I mean, if you’re still up for that movie?”

“I’d love to,” he replied, stepping out of the car and following you inside.

Once inside, you hung up your coats and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. You headed to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of drinks before settling next to him. Glen watched you with that familiar warmth in his gaze, and it made your heart flutter.

“Okay, I’ll let you pick the movie,” you said, scrolling through your options.

“Let’s go classic,” he suggested, pointing at How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. “This one is always a good time.”

You chuckled. “Good choice. It’s one of my favorites.”

As the movie started, you both settled into the couch, the initial awkwardness fading into the cozy atmosphere. Glen’s arm rested casually on the back of the couch, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, enjoying the easy banter that flowed between you.

About halfway through the film, you felt his arm move, sliding down to your shoulder as he gently pulled you into his side. A warmth spread through you at the gesture, and you smiled, leaning into him comfortably.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking down at you with those charming eyes.

You nodded, unable to suppress your grin. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“Good,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I am,” you replied softly, feeling the connection between you deepening. You could feel his heartbeat against you, steady and reassuring, and the atmosphere felt charged with a sweet kind of intimacy.

As the movie continued, you caught yourself glancing up at him, noticing how he focused intently on the screen, yet you could sense he was aware of you too. Every so often, your shoulders brushed, sending little sparks of electricity between you.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked, his gaze still on the movie.

“A million times,” you laughed. “It’s one of those movies I can watch on repeat and never get tired of.”

He smiled, looking down at you. “It’s one of my favorites too…Kind of like the person watching it.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment, a light flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach. “You’re smooth, aren’t you?”

“Only when the situation calls for it,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

The film played on, but the focus began to shift more towards each other. You felt the tension build in the small moments, the lingering touches, and the way his gaze lingered on you. It was as if the lines between work and pleasure had blurred completely, and you were both caught up in something new and thrilling.

With the credits rolling, Glen turned to you, the air between you electric. “So, what do you think? Think I can pull off this upcoming Rom-Com role after watching one?”

You laughed, your heart racing. “I think you’ve got the charm down already. Just maybe don’t take any advice from this movie for your actual dating life.”

“Noted,” he replied, his voice dropping slightly. “You know maybe I need a few more rom-com movie nights to fully prepare for this role.”

“I might know someone who could help you with that,” you said, your pulse quickening as you realized how much you wanted to spend more time with him.

He leaned in slightly, his expression softening. “You know, I really enjoy spending time with you outside the gym.”

“Me too,” you admitted, the vulnerability of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Before you could think it through, you leaned in closer, feeling the magnetic pull between you. And just like that, he was closing the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tentative kiss.

It felt like the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment. When you pulled away, breathless, you realized this was more than just a client relationship; it was the start of something new, something exciting.

[back2thebasics]

Charlie Swan x Fem Reader - Target Practice

Hopefully you guys like it! It's my first time trying to write Twilight fanfic but I had lots of fun writing this so I would be down to make more in the future if there is an interest.

Charlie Swan X Fem Reader- Target Practice -

Summary: You work as a Private Investigator. You first met Charlie at a gun range and ever since you saw him for the first time, you can't stop thinking about him. He notices you right away, not being able to keep his eyes off of you, intrigued by you. One day, he finally musters up the courage to approach you and start a conversation.

Content: 18+, MDNI, sexual content, guns, oral sex, public sex, age gap, 

WordCount: 4k

You had moved to Forks recently from a big city, looking for an escape from your stressful job as a private investigator. You had covered anything from cheating to much darker things that you were trying to forget about. You needed some time off, so you decided to switch things up and move to the small town of Forks, Washington. Not long after arriving, you discovered through a local newspaper that there was a gun range a few minutes out of town. The first time you shot a gun was for your weapon training course. It surprised you how easily you took to it and how you somewhat enjoyed the experience. The small rush of adrenaline and the focus required made your blood rush and made you feel alive. Luckily, you never required a gun for work, but you always kept one hidden in the glove box of your blacked out Mustang. The first time you went to the gun range, you had just wanted to check it out, but once there you felt stupid turning around. You entered the old looking concrete building, which almost looked like an old prison but smaller. You could already hear the loud gunshots, slightly muffled through the front door. 

Once inside, you went up to the front desk, which doubled as a large gun locker. The old man leaning back in an old wooden chair polished a gun looking up at you. He put the rifle down and stood to greet you. You pay the admission fee and the rounds of ammo and you, as you enter the second section of the range where the targets are, you feel the old man's stare. He probably knows every single customer, but you are new here and also the only woman in sight. You feel pairs of eyes on you as you go to your assigned booth at the very back. That's when you see Charlie for the first time. He is in the booth right next to yours, his focus remaining on the target ahead. You find him handsome from first sight. He was just your type. A little older, rugged, strong looking, with a full head of dark hair and a nicely trimmed mustache. He seemed quiet, observant, but discreet. You caught him glancing your way as you settled in your own booth at the very back. As you prepped your gun, you felt his eyes on you again, lingering, but not constantly. During your first visit to the shooting range, he stayed silent but sneaked intrigued glances towards you when he thought you wouldn't to notice. You had good aim the first visit despite being a little rusty. His was near perfect, you noticed. He pulled the trigger like it was breathing to him, never straying too far from his intended target. He also looked detached a little while he shot round after round like he did this every Sunday. Did he? You thought to yourself. It was only on your way out that first night that you noticed a patch on his jacket telling you he was a cop and the chief of police of Forks. 

The following two weekends, you made the trip to the gun range to shoot a few rounds, and you saw Charlie there each time. He seemed to allow himself to look at you more and more each visit, his gaze lingering longer than before. Then one day, he finally broke the silence at the end of a session. 

“Where you from anyway? Ive never seen you around?” He asked as you were taking a break. You pushed back the large noise canceling headphones that you wore while shooting. 

“I just moved here about a month ago. I’m from Seattle.” You explained, happy that he finally spoke to you. 

“Ah, that explains it. If you don't mind me asking, how did you learn to shoot like that?” He asked, arching a brow slightly. The sight made you hold in a giggle. 

“I'm a Private Investigator so the training came with the job but I ended up enjoying it so now I do it as a way to unwind, I guess.” You told him, looking up into his dark eyes. He nodded, as if finally able to solve the puzzle he’d been constructing in his head.

“Well, I have to say after me you might be the best shot in this town.” He chuckled softly, and the praise made your stomach do flips. You didn't think a random man’s opinion would mean so much to you, but you cared about what he thought of you. 

“Well Chief, thank you. My name is Y/N.” You stuck out your hand for a handshake, not yet knowing his name.

“Please call me Charlie.” He shook your hand, giving you a warm smile. His touch lingering slightly on your smaller hand. His hand slightly calloused and rough felt warm in your grip. You both pulled away and went back to your own thing. He kept shooting a few rounds. You found yourself simply watching him for the rest of the session. 

A few months later…

After settling in fully into the Forks' lifestyle, you noticed a few things. Charlie was everywhere, and everyone in town knew and respected him. He was also a very quiet, reserved man who was impossible to read at times. You always felt nervous talking to him for some reason despite his trustworthy reputation as the town's hero. You were sitting in the only bar in town. You rarely went out for drinks, but tonight you sat on a high stool dressed in a nice black jumpsuit. You took the time to do your hair and apply a little makeup, which was a rare sight. While you were lost in thought, a person suddenly occupied the empty seat next to you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Charlie sat with an ease that made you think this was his usual spot. You flashed him a smile that he returned.

“Yeah, what are the odds?” You joked back, knowing it was the only bar around for miles. 

“You come here often?” You add in teasing him.

“Probably more than I should.” He joked back and gave the bartender a little signal. A few minutes later, a tall draft beer sat in front of him. Your cocktail sat half empty as you nursed it, taking your time to make sure you could still drive home after. The two of you sat and talked for a while, the time slipping by as easy conversation flowed effortlessly. 

“I have this cabin up in the mountains with an outdoor practice range. I usually go up there with my buddies during hunting season, but I was wondering if you'd maybe want to go there to shoot. I mean you don't have to but if it interests you, I could um.. take you.” He seemed to get flustered by the proposition. Was he asking you on a date? “Yeah, that sounds great. I'm free next weekend.” Your answer eased his antsy demeanor, and he settled back into the stool, smiling at you, pleased.

“Perfect then. Ill pick you up and we can go.” He confirmed and the thought of going on a weekend trip to his cabin excited you more than anything had in the past 2 months . 

The weekend came, and you felt like a teenager as you paced by your window waiting for his truck to pull into the driveway. The outfit you had spent hours debating was a functional but cute ensemble consisting of a pair of jeans, a black tank top paired with a soft Forrest green flannel, and a pair of lace up hiking boots. You heard the gravel crunch and then saw his truck slow to a stop. To your surprise, Charlie exited the truck and approached your front door. A loud but still polite knock sounded a few minutes later, and you had to stop yourself from running to the door like a love-struck teenager. Opening the door, you admired him for a moment. He had shaved, leaving only his signature mustache perfectly trimmed. He wore dark-colored jeans paired with a gray t-shirt and a faded leather jacket. He looked so handsome that you had to stop yourself from ogling too long and making things awkward.

“Ready to go?” He asked, flashing you a smile that almost took your breath away.

“Yeah, but I don't have a gun. Sorry, I forgot to mention that earlier.” You usually borrowed one from the range. 

"No worries, I got you covered." He replied, smirking. Walking back to his truck and you followed instinctively. He opened the hatch of his truck to reveal a black trunk of some sort. He pulled it towards him and unlatched the cover to reveal a whole arsenal of firearms, from pistols to rifles. 

There were loads of ammo and other things as well and you were relieved he came prepared. You were willing to simply watch him shoot if it had come to it. You climbed in the truck after Charlie held the door open for you. He drove the both of you into the mountains, the forest getting thicker the further you drove. You filled the silence with pleasant conversation. You couldn't remember feeling this comfortable with anyone on this level before meeting Charlie. He made you feel seen, safe and fuzzy inside. Like a warm roaring fire was slowly building within you every time you thought of him or saw him in town. Once you arrived at the cabin, he helped you out of the truck and gave you a quick tour of the property. He showed you around the little clearing where he had set up many targets of varying distances, sizes and difficulty. He seemed proud of his hard work as he walked you around, showing you all the little details he had thought of and engineered himself. He then brought you inside the cute little log cabin that had a small kitchen, bathroom and a single bedroom. The inside was decorated with memorabilia that had been collected over the years. The cabin had charm and you couldn't help but walk around appreciating all the little momentos that made the cabin feel alive. This place was Charlie's space and you could tell he had fun times here in the past with his friends. 

“Its so nice Charlie, wow.” You told him, admiring the little metal fireplace in the corner of the living room. He saw you looking and approached to start making a fire. “You like it?” He smiled, crouching down to add logs to the fireplace. 

“Yeah, I love it.” You replied, still finding more things to look at. Everything in here had a story behind it and you couldn't wait to ask him more about his different adventures. 

“We can take a little break and eat before we go out to shoot.” He lit the fire and then stood to cross the cabin over to the fridge.

“You brought food?” You asked confused, not remembering a cooler of any kind. He open the fridge door and the fridge was fully stocked.

“I came up here yesterday to make sure we had food and other supplies we might need.” He pulled out a few things, placing them on the counter and closing the door once more. The thought of him going through all this effort for you made your belly warm and a rush of butterflies to flutter around. There was a tension in the air but it wasn't the bad kind. You went to his side to help him prepare the food. You made some steak and potatoes along with some steamed green beans. 

“My daughter showed me how to cook. Without her I would still be eating tv dinners every night.” He laughed to himself, draining the boiling water from the potatoes carefully.

“You have a daughter? I didn't know.” There were still a few things you wanted to know about him and you were curious to learn more.

“Yeah, Bella, she doesn't live with me anymore. She has a husband Edward and they live together with their daughter, Renesmee. I go visit them as much as I can nowadays.” He seemed wistful but the love that shined in his eyes made it clear the level of affection he held for his daughter and her family. 

“Hopefully, I can meet her one day.” You smiled at him warmly.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” He agreed, looking into your eyes, his dark pupils flaring slightly. He looked away, going back to preparing the food. Once you were both done, you sat and ate in a peaceful silence. Then it was time for some fun.

You fired round after round, enjoying the rare sunshine that made the day even more special. You had friendly competitions with Charlie, who liked to tease that you were cheating by distracting him. In the end you won fair and square and you celebrated by opening a beer and sitting tother in the clearing on a large fallen log. He smiled at you as you took a sip of your beer. You were a little sweaty, your hair clung to the back of your neck from the beaming heat of the sun. Charlie seemed lost in thought, so you broke the silence first.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly.

“I can't remember the last time I was this happy.” He said simply, and the words flared something inside you like the fire that was building before it came to a roar suddenly. It gave you the confidence you needed to say the words that had been on your mind for the past month.

“I like you Charlie.” The words came out in a single breath, softly spoken, making you feel vulnerable.

“You do?” He asked, looking at you with a fierce look of longing. His question seemed like it served for his reassurance. Like he couldn't believe that someone like you could ever like someone like him.

“Yeah, a lot.” You replied nodding, a small smile forming on your lips. You felt nervous, giddy energy bubbling inside.

“Fuck sweetheart, you sure? I am a lot older than you are.” He seemed to be having an internal battle. You did have a considerable age gap between you, but that did not stop the attraction that you felt. He was kind, charming, warm and considerate, along with incredibly hot, which helped.

“I know, but that doesn't change anything for me. If it doesn't bother you then it doesn't bother me.” You said softly, scared he would reject you after bearing yourself to him. He looked torn and intense, and it made you nervous. 

“Listen, I don't want you to think I have ill intentions. I like you too, trust me. Shit, I don't remember the last time I felt like this. It makes me feel young again.” He swore and chuckled, shaking his head.

You felt hopeful, so you decided to take a leap of faith. You knew he would never make the first move, so you did. You leaned in slowly, giving him time to pull back if he wanted to. He instead pulled in closer as well and your lips met his. The kiss started slowly as you sighed into the soft contact of your lips. His mustache brushed against your upper lip and you gently griped the back of his neck with your hand. The kiss grew more intense as he brushed his tongue against your bottom lip mid kiss. You opened up for him and let your tongue explore as well. You pulled back breathless and the both of you held each other's eyes. Heat was building low in your stomach, sending a pool of liquid to your core. 

“Do you want to go inside?” He asked gruffly, his voice thick with desire.

“Yeah.” You led the way, standing from the log and feeling charlie follow behind you. Once inside, you couldn't hold back any longer and you almost pounced on him. Turning back to him once he closed the door and pressing him up against it, resuming the kiss you shared outside. It took him a split second to return the kiss, gripping your hips firmly with strong hands. He surprised you by turning the both of you suddenly so your back was pressed against the door. You released a small breath and looped your hands around his neck. He grabbed behind your thighs and lifted you effortlessly so your legs wrapped around his torso.

 The kiss continued fierce and passionate. Your hands gripped the back of his hair slightly, tugging the short strands between your fingers, earning a rough rumble from Charlie. The sound set another wave of lust to your core. You broke the kiss panting and looked into his blazing dark eyes that devoured you. 

“Charlie, I need you.” You spoke the words sounding needy even to your own ears.

“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?” He asked for your consent, his eyes hopeful but careful, making sure you felt comfortable.

“Yes, Ive never been more sure.” You answered with a small smile, knowing this was important to him. 

“I don't have any, um, protection, darling.” His low, almost embarrassed voice made your heart swell. You stroked your thumb on his cheek. “I'm on birth control. It's okay.” You answered, soothing his worries.

You saw the restraint in him give in that moment as he carried you to the bedroom. You felt the excitement return, and you started peppering kisses to his jaw, down his neck, over the strong column of his stubbled throat. He groaned deep in his throat, a sound of pure male pleasure and it encouraged you. He set you down gently on the queen size bed hovering over you and leaning down to return the favour. He trailed kisses down your neck to your exposed collar bones, spreading kisses across them like he was appreciating every inch of your skin. You shivered with pleasure beneath his strong frame. He gently helped you out of the flannel you wore and then the tank top and jeans, leaving you in your underwear. Then you went to work on his clothing, shedding him of his layers until he was in his boxers and socks. 

The two of you continued the frenzied kissing like horny teenagers because that's what you both felt like. He was hard and you could tell it was big. It excited you and your hand trailed down to pull out his large cock from the confines of his underwear. He let out a huff of breath and he groaned when you started stroking him slowly, teasing him a little. He sat back and pulled you up with him so you were straddling his lap. He expertly unclasped your bra, and the look of admiration and pure lust thrilled you. He spent time appreciating your breasts, kissing them, licking your hard budding nipples, and then gently nipping the tips with his teeth, sending you twitching of pleasure in his arms. He made another guttural sound of pleasure and then you were beneath him again. He was trailing kisses down your stomach, going lower and lower until he reached your soaking wet clothed mound. He peeled your wet underwear from your legs and flicked them on the floor. He looked up at you with an intense lustful gaze, his dark eyes asking before his lips spoke the words.

“Can I?” The question was almost whispered against your core, sending shivers up your spine. You nodded quickly, flustered. Your cheeks felt warm and your breathing was still a little erratic from the intensity of the moment. He dipped down to your slick folds and got to work, starting with slow teasing licks that made you crazy. Your hands instinctively flew out to grip his dark brown hair. You felt his facial hair brush against your inner thighs and it turned you on. He devoured your pussy like a starving man, with languid strokes of his tongue that increased in speed slowly, followed by slightly sucking on your sensitive clit. You pulled harder on his hair, releasing little moans and soft cries at the pleasure. He increased in speed and intensity until you felt the slow climb of your orgasm forming. It came like a crashing wave, strong and sure. The white hot pleasure peaking and sending you free falling of the ledge. Your legs shook as you came on his tongue, moaning loudly and releasing his hair to grip the sheets tightly with bunched fists. He pulled back after you were done riding the comedown of your dizzying orgasm.

“You taste so good, Princess.” He praised low and throaty from his own desire. 

“Charlie, I want your dick.” The request left you without even thinking, you were still hypnotized from the rush of coming hard for him. He seemed pleased at the words and he pulled down his boxer briefs, his fully erect dick touching his happy trail. He was a good 7 inches for sure and the sight of him in his full glory made your mouth water. He positioned himself until he was lined up to your slick entrance and then, with a smooth slow thrust, he pushed in. The feeling of him filling you slowly was exquisite. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure.

“Fuck you're so tight.” He cursed under his breath as he started to test out a few thrusts. You moaned as he slowly picked up the pace. He braced himself on his elbows, caging you into him and sending his smell to flood your senses. He smelled faintly of pine and sweat and it turned you on more than any expensive cologne could. He fucks you deep, powerful thrusts and your moans increase in volume. He looks down into your eyes with lust, sweat beading on his forehead from the exertion. He lets out little groans and muffled curses as he fucks you. 

“You're so pretty when I fuck you, sweetheart.” He coos, pounding into you and sending you close to a second orgasm already. 

“Fuck yes Charlie.” You moan out his name, clutching the surrounding sheets in pleasure. 

Your back arches and you feel one of his strong, calloused hands on the small of your back, holding you up and pressing your front to his chest as he thrusts into you fast and strong. 

Your sensitive nipples rub against his hairy chest and it sends sparks of electricity through your body as you feel the peak of your second orgasm approaching. It rocks through your body and you pull him in for a needy kiss. You come while kissing him, breaking apart to moan out his name as you convulse in his powerful grip. Your toes curl, your back arching even more and then you come even harder than the last time. Your vision blurs a little as you come down from the high, still pressed close to a panting Charlie, who came at the same time. He pulls out slowly and then stands to grab tissues from the wooden side table next to the bed. He wipes you first, then himself. Then he approaches where you sit at the edge of the bed, watching him with a loving smile. He settles into the bed, pulling you close to him, and you cuddle with him in the drowsy post orgasm haze. His hairy chest serves as your pillow as you gently stroke his shoulder and then trail your fingers on his chest. You sigh happily.

“You know that was the best sex I've ever had.” He smiles down at you, flashing you with one of those breathtaking smiles.

“Me too.” You agree, smiling wider and then pulling him in for another kiss.