#LED TV stabilizers

[keeline21345]

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[sayruq]

So, I've had people asking, why does it matter if rockets are fired towards Tel Aviv and other settlements when they cause a fraction of the damage done by an Israeli missile?

Psychological warfare - the rocket barrages eliminate any sense of security that Israelis might have during the war. It reminds them that there's a price for the occupation of Palestine. I can't tell you how many videos I've seen of people in luxury resorts and other high class lodgings shouting and fleeing in fear at a rocket from Gaza or Yemen. It makes it hard for them to go about their daily life ignoring what is happening. Furthermore it undermines the strength of the IDF. Netanyahu can go on TV and claim to have complete control over Gaza but a rocket barrage undoes that easily. A rocket barrage tells Israelis and the rest of the world that not only is Hamas (and the other groups) still intact, it has enough of a stockpile to still bomb parts of Israel over 50 days into the conflict. Israeli media is constantly shocked every time this happens because there's always the assumption that Palestinians are unprepared in every way for the conflict we're seeing today. It forces them to take the threat posed by the Resistance very seriously which of course leads to the existential meltdowns you see on Israeli social media accounts.

De-settlement - There are hundreds of thousands of internally displaced settlers right now. Most of them are unwilling to return because the settlements are still getting hit and it's obvious the IDF is struggling to get things under control. The annexation of Palestinian land and the formation of settlements has led to a great deal of violence towards Palestinians in both Gaza and the West Bank. Hence, why forcing settlers to evacuate is seen as a great success by the Resistance and their supporters. Hezbollah, for example, has mentioned that several times while doing debriefs of their efforts in the conflict

Hits to the economy - if the settlers are evacuated, who will run local businesses? Not to mention underpaid and overworked foreign migrant workers have fled the country while exploited Gazan workers are trapped in Gaza. Israel is trying to combat this by making deals with countries like India and Mali to get tens of thousands of workers but it's not going to be enough especially the longer this conflict goes on. There's also the fact that tourism won't recover to pre war levels due to security concerns. The same thing with foreign capital leaving the country. Israel is too unstable and evidently incapable of regaining that stability (by quickly defeating the Palestinian resistance) which makes it risky to invest in Israeli businesses.

Logistical nightmare - Gazan rockets are cheap to produce, Israeli interceptor missiles are not. Israel is spending more to stop the barrages of rockets than the Resistance has spent probably in the past 5 years. It's the same issue on the Northern border to Lebanon and whenever Yemen sends its long range missiles. It's not like both Israel, America and Europe have endless supplies of weapons and ammunition, they sent most of their stockpiles to Ukraine. The longer this goes on, the more dire things will get but we're already seeing the strain

[puck-bunnies]

behind closed doors

umich!luke hughes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, fingering, praising, choking, not proof read

word count: 2.3k

me and luke were never much of friends, never even talked much. at least, that’s what everyone thought. no one ever knows what happens behind closed doors.

i have not used this app in forever, meaning i haven’t written a fic in quite a long time so this is me trying to get back into writing. sorry if this is not great and a little rushed, i just haven’t written anything in like five months. anyways, try to enjoy this fic and ill try to write more as soon as i can.

i sit in the living room of my best friends boyfriends house, she sits beside me as all of ethan’s roommates take up every other seat. the lightning vs islanders game plays on the tv, having all of our eyes glued to it.

the boys are in a constant state of yelling, wether is celebrating, yelling at how stupid the refs are, or booing the other team. i’m not as invested as usual, my teams aren’t playing, but ill never miss an opportunity to a hockey game.

my mind also focuses on the close proximity as luke sits beside me, our thighs lightly rubbing against each other ever so softly. the warm summer weather left me wearing shorts and a tank top, causing luke’s hand to glide across my bare skin as he secretly places his hand on my thigh.

i never intended on sneaking around with luke, it all just happened one day, the house was empty and quiet. we got to talking, venturing from subjects like our classes, plans for our future, and somehow turning into our sex life.

he learned that i’ve never really gotten quite what i need, never feeling that spark with any guy that i’ve been with. them never wanting to try anything i’ve wanted to, i’ve never been fully satisfied.

he continued to tell me how he has slept around quite a bit. nearly almost always leaving the rink with some new blonde puck bunny stuck to his arm. he didn’t wear it as a trophy, or say that he regretted any of it, all just saying it’s apart of his past. his history he can’t and won’t change.

one thing led to another, his hands roaming my body as my lips bit down on his. my hands squeezing the mattress tightly with every moan escaping my lips.

we didn’t even stop there, whenever we could find a time to be alone, we were tangled in each others arms.

here we are now, not even able to keep our hands to ourselves in sight of one another. i try to shake his hand off, not wanting any of the surrounding eyes to see his intimate gesture. he doesn’t move, squeezing my skin harder. i softly pierce my bottom lip with my teeth, try to calm my nerves. i can feel heat bubbling up to my face, painting my cheeks with a faint blush.

my eyes peer over to him, giving him a pleading look to start behaving. he doesn’t budge, giving me a side smirk before returning his eyes on the game.

rutger groans loudly as the 2nd period finishes, “fuck the lightning.” he swears as they’re pulling a 4-1 lead. he chugs back the rest of his beer, throwing the can on the ground in some grown man temper tantrum.

the ads run during the commercial break, leaving the rest of us to disregard the television for the time being. my heart starts to quicken, without their distraction of the game they’re eyes could fall upon luke’s hand on me.

my mind tries to work fast, but the only thing i can think of doing is grabbing the blanket next to me and covering myself with it, concealing us from the wandering eyes. luke’s lips curl into a smirk, proud of me not forcing him off, knowing that i want it. that i want him.

his hand becomes bolder, rubbing up and down my inner thigh. i bite my bottom lip again, trying to stabilize myself from this new feeling. his fingers become more adventurous, going to the hem of my shorts.

“fuck.” i softly mumble to myself, luke’s soft chuckle tells me that he hears my light groans. his fingers don’t stop there, rubbing up to the bottom of my shirt, toying with the cotton material.

the pads of his fingers brush against my sensitive skin, right across the bottom of my stomach. fire engulfs my stomach, my breath hitches as he rubs softly back and forth, tickling my skin.

the game comes back for the final period, my eyes keep trained on the hockey game, but my mind can only focus on his touch as it drives me insane.

he feels my stomach hitch with my breath, he knows i want him so badly, he knows what he does to me. i squeeze my thighs together, trying to cause some type of sensation in my growing wetness.

i can’t take his teasing fingers anymore, “meet me in my room.” i whisper to him. rising from the couch and walking away from the crowded living room. i head for the direction of the bathroom, making them hear my footsteps as i lead their ears to the door closing. i stay outside the bathroom, tiptoeing to my room in an unsteady waiting of luke.

the door finally opens, luke quickly closing the door silently behind him. a deep breath is all i can hear from him, turning around to look at me patiently sitting on the foot of my bed. he takes a seat beside me, quickly gripping my hips and pulling me onto his lap.

“it’s been awhile since we’ve been alone,” my fingers rake up the back of his head, through his soft brown hair, my finger swirling around a curly lock. “too long.” a soft sigh parts from his lips as my fingers lightly scratch at his scalp.

he keeps his hands on my hips, roughly gripping at my denim shorts. “i missed your hands all over me. you can’t tease me out there and not expect me to want more.”

our bodies come closer, our lips so close together, our hearts syncing their beats. i can barely hold myself back from making up that final inch. “tell me how badly you want me.”

“i want you..” he shyly gives into my need. it’s not enough for me, i feed off of hearing how badly he wants me, his hands rubbing up and down my body, the feeling of his cock being buried deep inside me.

“oh yeah…” my lips attach to his neck, softly kissing down from his jaw.

finally he gives in, “i want to feel you against me, your lips on mine, every inch of your beautiful body baby.”

a devilish smirk spreads on my face, “mmm, is that right?” i mumble against his neck, softly sinking my teeth into his sensitive skin, sucking the spot to soothe it after.

“oh god yes.” luke practically moans out. his hands become adventurous, slowly going down to hold my ass in his hands, gripping at my clothed skin. they make their way down farther, gripping at my exposed thighs while my kisses go back up his jaw.

i crave for his taste, forcefully pressing my lips against his in a hungry state. my tongue quickly sliding into his mouth, hands combing through his messy curls, pushing him closer into me. he guides my hips back and forth on him, i can feel him hardening underneath me.

breaking the kiss to catch my breath, i drop my head onto his shoulders as i feel his hands press against my pussy. my hips still grind on him, but instead of just on his hard cock, it’s on his fingers. “mmm, you want me that bad?” he chuckles, i nod against his shoulder.

he undoes my shorts, exposing the top of my pink lacy panties, his fingers drag down them, going farther into my pants. they settle on my wetness, my hips stop rocking, focusing on the closer touch. “god you’re soaked.”

my lip sticks to my teeth in a harsh lip bite, my walls clench around nothing, begging to be filled by him. his fingers work slow and teasingly, rubbing circles around my clothed clit, watching me squirm on top of him. my back slightly arches, legs slowly opening wider for him to have better access to my aching pussy. “needy, are we?”

i softly whimper, my hips start to grind again, craving more attention from his teasingly slow hands. his fingers move the crotch of my panties aside, touching my wetness with his bare fingers, feeling my folds and them dripping for him. my head lifts off his shoulder, taking a glance down at his hand stuffed down my pants, looking back deep into his eyes.

i take a deep breath out, without a single warning he thrusts a finger in my pussy. making me loudly squeal with surprise. he quickly covers my mouth, stopping his finger in me. “you have to be quiet princess, you don’t want us getting caught, now do you?” he asks. i shake my head no, he hums at my obedience. “good girl.” his voice is in a whisper, softly praising me.

he begins to move his finger once again, letting me adjust to the new sensation before adding another, stretching me out for him. curling his fingers up to my g-spot. finally trusting me enough not to scream, he moves his hand off of my face, settling it down on my hip to keep me steady.

my hands grasp at his curly locks, trying to compose myself. as he adds another finger i bite down on my bottom lip, trying to keep the wanting moans from escaping my lips. a smirk spreads across luke’s face, watching what he can do to me with just his hands. i curse under my breath, dropping my head down to keep my brain straight, the pleasure slowly becoming less bearable.

his fingers quicken, hand comes off my hip and to my chin, lifting my head to force me to stare back into his eyes. “look at me while i’m finger fucking you baby.” my teeth puncture my bottom lip harder, my chest heaving with all the moans i keep to myself. i slip up and let on me out, hard hands hit my throat, softly squeezing. “i thought i told you to keep quiet?”

his grip loosens to allow me to take a breath, closing back up as soon as my chest rises. another finger slips in my cunt, my legs start to squirm, toes curling and hands squeezing his hair. his fingers losen from my throat, falling down to the straps of my tank top. he pulls one strap off each shoulder, one at a time. hooking two fingers at the neckline and pulling down, my tits falling out from my lack of wearing a bra.

he wastes no time before gripping my breast, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bud. i clench around his fingers, my senses overloading with pleasure. he lowers his head, kitty licking my other nipple. i softly moan, not loud enough for luke to get me in trouble again, but enough for him to know the things he’s doing to me.

my stomach clenches, the feeling i know very well as my head starts to feel light. “i’m so close.” i whimper out. luke doesn’t let up, switching to my other breast, sucking on the nipple before softly biting the skin.

my whole body clenches as i feel my climax, luke’s quick fingers curling inside me quickly. it all comes raining down, my pussy clenching around him as i coat his fingers with myself. he backs up, letting me heave and fall down on his chest to catch my breath.

i quietly curse under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut to recover from my high. i life my head back up to look luke in the eyes. he removes his fingers from my folds, fingers coated with my cum. he slides his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. my breath catches in my throat again, god damn he makes me want more.

“you’re such a good girl Y/N.” he pops his fingers out of his mouth, “i wish i could fuck you silly right now. but i want to keep all those precious moans to myself, when we can be completely alone.”

before i can even react to his words he puts his lips back onto mine, slipping his tongue in my mouth to let me taste myself. his fingers plant back onto my hips, helping me up to my feet so he can get out from underneath me.

“you go get yourself cleaned up and meet me back in the living room. i pray we weren’t gone too long for anyone to notice.” he whispers, fixing my hair from the sweat that beads on my forehead.

i nod to his words, giving him one last little kiss before he silently slips out of my bedroom. my try to regain my normal breathing patterns, my brain still fuzzy from my previous orgasm.

i obey luke’s wishes, tiptoeing to the bathroom to clean myself off. splashing water into my face to try to remove my blushing red cheeks. i walk back out to the bathroom, seeing everyone engrossed in the final minutes of the third period. i thankfully sigh, slipping back between the guys to sit back down beside luke. he offers me a light smirk, we both then back to the television, watching the game unfold.

[brattyfork]

midnight.c

summary: chris has an idea for new years.

warnings: daddy!chris lol, orgasm denial, spanking (kinda), nothing super crazy but pretty long

“ready baby?” chris walked into our room to me sitting on the bed scrolling through my phone.

“sure, did you pick a movie?” i started to get up.

“nah, we should pick one together” he started walking down the stairs, me trailing behind him.

my eyes widened when i saw the coffee table littered with my favorite snacks. my favorite blanket was neatly folded in the spot we usually sit.

“chris you didn’t have to do all this”

“i know, but you deserve it. plus you gotta get your energy up for tonight” he winked at me, making me shake my head.

chris had come up with this crazy idea yesterday. we were gonna fuck, but i wasn’t allowed to cum until midnight. for some reason, i agreed. i thought it’d be fun, i always loved trying new things in bed and chris seemed really excited about it so i said yes.

i rolled my eyes at him before he grabbed my hand and led me to the couch.

“what’d you wanna watch?” i asked him.

“no clue, just flick through em and we’ll pick something” i started looking through the movie section of netflix until something caught my eye. chris noticed my pause.

“you wanna watch it?”

“are you good with that?”

“of course princess” i hit the play button and curled up next to him. he laid the blanket over us and grabbed some snacks off the table in front of us.

the movie was only an hour and a half long, chris was surprisingly well behaved. i think he was actually interested in the movie. he just ate his snacks with his arm around me,

rubbing my shoulder every now and then.

the movie ended and chris leaned over me, grabbing the remote from my side and switching the tv to youtube. i was slightly confused until he typed “new years countdown” and picked the most low key looking one. it was pretty much just a timer.

i turned to look at him and he grabbed me, pulling me so i was straddling him. i let out a shaky breath.

“we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to” he said gently, holding my face in his hands.

“no no i want to i’m just a little nervous”

“don’t be baby, it’s only me. just relax” he pulled me in to a sweet kiss, going slow as to not rush me. i got tired of it quickly, picking up the pace, the kiss now passionate and deep. chris smirked into the kiss, moving his hands down to the small of my back and wrapping his arms around me. i could feel him under me, his bulge getting harder and harder. i loved the effect i had on him, there was a reason it was me who wasn’t allowed to cum and not him.

chris moved his hands down to my ass, grabbing it making me gasp. he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. i fought him for a second but gave up soon after, there was no point, he always won. our tongues danced in my mouth as the kiss grew needier, sloppier.

i could feel my arousal pooling in between my legs and i needed some relief. i grinded against him, letting out tiny noises as i stabilized myself with his shoulders. he must’ve not expected it though because he let out a loud groan which made me smile. his hands traveled up me to my hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling me away from the kiss.

“gonna be good for me tonight? do everything daddy says?” i nodded at him best i could with his grip on my hair. he didn’t like that though.

“i asked you a question” he smacked my ass making me yelp and fall into him as much as i could with his fist in my hair.

“yes daddy, promise i’ll be good” he brought his hand out of my hair to my cheek.

“my sweet girl” he rubbed my face before pulling me into another kiss. this one was rougher, meaner as he helped me grind on him, his hand on my ass pushing and pulling me.

“what’d you wanna do first baby?” he kept his grip on my face firm. i thought for a moment, maybe i was procrastinating but kissing him was so good i didn’t wanna give it up just yet.

“can we just keep kissing?” i looked away from him briefly, slightly embarrassed by my request.

“of course my love, you still wanna sit on daddy’s lap?”

“want you on top of me” i looked up at him.

chris smirked before standing up, lifting me with him and placing me gently on the couch under him. he situated himself on top of me, making sure he wasn’t crushing me before interlacing our fingers with one of his hands and leaning down to kiss me. chris kept grinding on me, his weight helping put more pressure on my clit. i whined into the kiss as he moved faster, god this was gonna be harder than i thought. chris started kissing down my jaw to my neck, pushing my head to the side for better access. this gave me a chance to peak at the clock.

forty minutes

fuck, i didn’t know if i could last that long. chris pulled away from my neck, helping me sit up a bit so he could pull off my shirt before laying me back down. he moved down me, placing a few more kisses on my neck before moving to my collarbones, then my chest before he finally came to my boobs. i could feel his breath over my nipples, causing them to harden. chris kissed along the tops of my breasts, purposely missing the center for awhile. finally, he placed his mouth around one of my nipples, making me whine louder than i had that night. he used his other hand to pinch and pull on my other one while he grazed the nipple in his mouth with his teeth. i arched my back slightly, pushing my chest into him. it felt incredible but i couldn’t get off from this, it really only got me worked up, i could never cum from this alone. and chris was fully aware of that.

i got sick of his teasing once he had moved to the other side, switching his mouth and hand around. i grabbed his face and pulled him off me, his mouth and my chest creating a popping noise when they disconnected. i pulled him into me, kissing him but it was just a distraction. i slowly moved my hand in between us, determined to catch him off guard. i lightly palmed over him before coming back up harder. he groaned into the kiss, pushing his face into mine before he pulled back, giving me the opportunity to speak.

“wanna feel you daddy” i continued to palm him through his pants and boxers. he groaned.

“yeah, you want daddy’s cock in your mouth princess?” he ground into me, putting more pressure on him and myself with my hand. i gasped.

“please” he got off me, leaning back so he was laying down. i situated my self in between his legs, propping my self up on my elbows to pull down his sweats and boxers. his cock flung out, hitting me in the face slightly and making him hiss.

i kitten licked his tip, running my tongue in his silt, collecting the precum that resided there. i looked up at him, catching his gaze and god did he look incredible. he was propped up on his elbows, pupils blown out with his lips swollen and parted, never taking his eyes off me.

i licked up his cock, starting at the base and slowly gliding to the tip, all while never breaking his gaze. once i got to the tip, i put my lips over my teeth and took him into my mouth making him gasp. he threw his head back as i took as much of him into my mouth as i could, arching his back from the pleasure. his hands flung to my hair, trying not to grab too hard while pushing my head down slightly.

“holy fuck baby, s-so good” i hummed at his praise, his grip on my hair tightening from the vibration.

i came back up, taking most of him into my mouth and jerking what i couldn’t fit. i hollowed my cheeks, creating a tighter seal around him.

“fuck i’m gonna cum baby ohmygod” i feel him twitching in my mouth and i let out another moan, feeling his hot load in my mouth a few seconds later.

chris pants, catching his breath while i lick up whatever i couldn’t swallow.

“goddamnit angel you’re incredible” i smile to myself as he sits up and pulls me on top of him.

“do you know how much i love you?” he pulls my head away from his and i shake my head.

“think i need a reminder” he smiled, pushing me off him, laying me back again as he trailed his hands down my body. he pulled off my tight shorts, revealing my black lacy underwear that he loved so much.

chris took them all the way off, sitting back on his knees. he looked at me like he was starving, it was kind of scary. he began kissing up my legs, starting at my ankles and agonizingly slowly moved to the tops of my thighs just below my panty line. chris moved into the crevice my thighs made squishing together, spreading my legs as he got closer to where i needed him. he kissed over my panties before pulling them down with his teeth, his eyes boring into me.

“holy fuck chris” the sight of him on top of me was insane. i thought i could cum from that alone. i turned my head.

thirty minutes

goddamnit, i audibly whined.

“what’s wrong angel?” chris asked, my panties now discarded with the rest of my clothes.

“i don’t wanna wait, need to feel you”

“aw i know baby, you’re being so good for me though. imagine how good it’ll feel when i’m finally inside you” he said, coming up to my stomach, kissing over my sides “how intense your orgasm will be” and up my chest “it’ll be so good baby i promise”

“mmm fine”

“good girl, now let daddy make you feel good”

chris moved down again, hooking my legs over his shoulders while he started gently licking my clit. my body jolted as he finally gave me relief where i needed it. he licked up my folds, poking his tongue into my entrance lightly while he rubbed my thighs. he started to go harder at my entrance, steadying his tongue while his nose brushed over my clit making me moan. i could feel him smirk up against me as he increased his speed.

“fuck chris holy shit” i try to wiggle out of his grip, squirming underneath him but he doesn’t let up.

“chris please, can’t” i whimpered out, trying to keep my composure. he came back up giving me a moment to breathe.

“so good baby” he stroked the side of my face. “look” he pushed my head to the side, making me look at the tv.

“only twenty more minutes my love” i whimpered.

“come sit on daddy’s lap” i clambered over to him, situating myself on top of him with my back against his chest.

chris began massaging my tits while sucking dark marks into my neck. he moved his hand up to my mouth, sticking out two fingers for me to suck. i licked his fingers while he whispered sweet nothings in my ear.

“such a good girl angel”

“listen so well”

“my perfect baby”

he pulled his fingers out with a pop, trailing them down to my body and stopping right above my clit. the teasing was starting to get to me, i cried out when he stopped his movements.

“you want daddy to touch you baby?”

“please touch me daddy please i ne-“ he began rubbing my clit in tight circles with his fingers making me gasp.

“god i love the noises you make baby”

i felt something under me, grinding down on it to make sure i knew what it was.

“you feel that angel? feel how hard you made daddy again?” he rutted up into me “daddy’s gonna fuck you so good angel”

i couldn’t handle this, i wanted more, i needed more.

“please! inside…” he moved his wet fingers down to my leaking hole.

“want daddy’s fingers?”

“mhm!” i squealed out.

“you think you can handle that baby? you still got fifteen more minutes”

“yes! yes! can handle it please i need it” he shoved his fingers inside me, causing my hand to fly up and grab his hair.

“fUck” my voice broke making chris chuckle.

“such a good whore for me”

“yes daddy fuck all yours” he fingered me harder, going at a ruthless pace that started to make my legs shake. he pulled out.

“NO, please daddy please”

“i’m sorry baby, but you know you can’t cum yet” a tear fell down my face.

“don’t cry baby, here turn around and face me” i stood up, doing as he said.

chris pulled his shirt over his head and kicked his bottoms off before gesturing for me to take my seat back.

“you want daddy’s cock?” i nodded my head feverishly.

“can’t move though, you still got ten more minutes. well make a deal” he lifted me up, aligning himself with my hole, “you sit on my cock for 4 minutes, no moving, and daddy’ll fuck you after okay?” he let go of my hips, letting me sink down. i sighed, relieved to finally have him inside me. he thrusted up into me, a pornographic moan coming out of my mouth.

“i asked you a question”

“yes daddy, won’t move i promise” i moved my legs so he could be deeper inside me, making us both let out low growls.

“so warm princess, so fucking tight” i could feel him twitch inside me. i dug my face into his neck, placing small kisses on him.

chris dropped his head back, giving me more access. deciding to tease him a bit more, i licked up his neck making him groan and his cock twitch again. i sunk my teeth down into his neck, sucking dark marks into him while he let out deep whines.

“god baby i love you so much” i pulled back from his neck.

“i love you too” and leaned into him for a sweet kiss

“it’s only be 3 minutes but you’ve been so good for me tonight. you want daddy to fuck you?”

“yes yes yes please” he chuckled at my response.

“ride me baby” he placed his hands under my ass, giving me some support as i lifted myself up and sank back down. i pressed our chests together as i bounced up and down, his hands helping me move. everytime i came back down, his tip hit the sweet spot inside of me, it became too much. i started grinding on him, now slightly tired from the nights events.

chris noticed and flipped us over, pounding into me harshly while i squealed.

“god i love the noises you make” i would’ve been embarrassed normally but i couldn’t think about anything other than how far inside me he was.

“so…deep.…” my eyes rolled into the back of my head while chris lightly laughed at me, only egging me on more.

“only four more minutes baby”

i whined, i know he was trying to make me feel better but i could only think about how long four minutes really was.

chris slowed down his thrusts, feeling me clench around him. he pulled all the way out before slamming back into me, making me cry out each and every time. i couldn’t tell you how long that lasted, i was so fucked out that i didn’t know which way was up, nonetheless how much time had passed.

before i knew it, chris started at his normal pace again, still as hard as before. i dug my nails into his back, causing him to groan at the pain.

“fuck CHRIS i can’t hold it” i knew i was close.

“you can baby, i know you can, only one more minute. you can do that for me can’t you?” i whimpered as a tear fell from my eye, quickly being kissed away by chris.

“it’s okay my love, you’re okay. i’ve got you” he touched his forehead to mine, still thrusting harshly into me but slower.

i turned my head to look at the tv again. thirty seconds. i clenched around him.

“don’t fucking do it y/n, be good for me” his switch of tone shocked me but gave me the motivation to hold back.

“not … wanna be good” i mumbled. chris kissed me , quickly shoving his tongue in my mouth to distract me.

“fifteen seconds baby, you ready?” i nodded my head as his pace became ruthless. i screamed, scratching his back before he had to hold my arms down. i heard the tv beep loudly.

5

“almost there baby”

4

“you’ve got this”

3

“my perfect girl”

2

“holy fuck”

1

my orgasm washed over me, my legs shaking and my body trembling as i tried to catch my breath. i tightened around chris, watching his eyes roll back as i felt him shoot into me made this all worth it. he stopped himself from collapsing on top of me, instead pulling me so we were both on our sides, foreheads pressed together while we continued to catch our breath.

“you okay baby?” he asked between breaths.

“happy new year!” i flung my hands up, my words coming out more as squeaks than discernable syllables. chris laughed at me, pulling me closer.

“happy new year”

a/n- lmao remember when i was like “i’m gonna take a break. anyway, unsure how i feel abt this but i’ve had the idea for weeks. sorry it’s late but

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

[imagine--if]

Can I ask for a Dano Riddler imagine? where him and Yn grew up together (she was in the girls wing of the orphanage and they talked through the walls, like him and the joker on the film) and she goes to see him in Arkham, and she's really sad that he's there, because they promissed each other that they'd never leave one another, and it's tearful and all, but he promisses her that he'll leave soon and never be apart ever again😭❤

A/N: I've just gotten round to reading the fourth issue of Riddler Year One so yessss I've totally got plenty of inspo for this imagine 😁 enjoy!!

Wordcount: 2.2K

"She doesn't say much. And when she does, it's hard to make it out. Shy little thing. Still, she'll get used to it. She'll have to."

You were only four or five when you were dumped in Gotham's orphanage, clutching onto your soft toy as an only source of comfort and some kind of stability in a terrifying world, and an even worse city. You were quiet, barely spoke, and when you did, it was in whispers, all wide, innocent eyes and secretive, the hood up on your little hoodie as you tried your best to hide yourself from everything and everyone. Just a toddler, with a sweet life twisted by death and misfortune that you barely understood as a toddler. You had shuffled meekly behind a carer who led you into the orphanage, a cold and cruel building that they expected you to call home.

The other kids there seemed so much bigger, loud and dominating and aggressive, half of them on drops, only around twelve years old. Others were plain bullies with filthy mouths and hateful glares, children's eyes glancing at you, assessing your small, shy form, before they carried on with what they were doing in disinterest.

You had buried your face in your toy and pulled the fabric of your hood up past your hair and head, over your forehead, shadowing your face, trying to disappear in it. You pulled your legs up to your chest and watched everything happen behind your toy, its fur pressed up against your face. A group of kids watched TV and fought over the remote, others played nearby outside, but from your spot hunched in a corner, opposite you, sat a boy almost as quiet as you. You gazed at him in silence for a few long minutes, absorbed in his puzzle book, and only when he looked up to get a fresh pencil did he notice your young, curious eyes fixed on him.

He was a few years older than you, with glasses pushed up his nose, making his murky green eyes twinkle as they looked back at you nervously. He gave you a small smile, the first genuine smile you'd received in maybe your whole life, awkward and hesitant. You blinked back at him timidly, hugging your toy closer with little hands, returning his smile bashfully. The boy seemed taken aback by the action, and beamed at you, a beat of hesitance passing before he offered you a pen. You stared at it, then at him, and wandered over, sitting beside him and accepting his offer. You barely knew how to read or write, and so you watched him instead, the quiet boy with a nice smile and lots of books, day after day.

And as the days went by, both of you becoming closer and more comfortable together, Edward would start talking to you in his small, sweet voice, writing answers to riddles with a hand over yours, pulling your littler form into his lap after a couple of weeks and reading to you, then helping you read, helping you speak up a little. He'd even speak for you with others, managing to push past his own shyness every so often to help you, to repeat your whispered, lispy voice to those who couldn't catch it. You'd trail after him throughout the day when you could, before you were taken back to the girls' dorm, and you'd linger in the separating corridor, afraid of the idea of you two parting and him never coming back out of his long, shared boys' room.

"I'll see you in the morning," He'd always say soothingly, giving you a warm hug, bending down slightly so you could return it properly. "I'll never leave you. You know that."

And you'd nod, because you knew Edward was telling the truth by the way he said it and looked at you with earnest, young eyes, letting you borrow a book to amuse yourself with if the nights got too long,

But then foster families and adoptees started popping up. And you, being a young, sweet-looking child, albeit a little shy, are swept up into the grips of a random 'family,' and the quickness of how your name's signed away to people you don't even know and have no say over makes your head spin. The orphanage was overcrowded anyway, and one less mouth to feed in exchange for money made all the difference.

Edward, on the other hand, was beside himself.

Newspapers and library books on adoption and rules and any ways to prevent what was happening piled up beside his bed, to the dorm he'd been disciplined to stay in for his shocking outbursts of frustration and hatred and upset. Thomas Wayne's renewal plan could help him, he thought. He'd already assured him that he could get to a special school to study and learn and have a brighter future.

So on the last night you could spend together, sneaking out of the corridor of a room you slept in with the other girls, Edward filled out the form in his shaky, uneven writing, stating on one line that he wanted to go to the school he'd talked about, and on the other, 'I want to stay with my best friend and stop them from being taken away by bad people.'

REJECTED.

The word stamped in bold, horrid red print was the response he got, the word that bled into his mind as you were made to pack a bag and wave goodbye and go, handing your young life over to strangers, and Edward couldn't do a thing about it. You were carted off out of Gotham to go to school and expected to become a whole new person.

But you couldn't.

The years went by agonisingly slowly, and with every one that passed, you thought about him, your friend, Edward. Did he get adopted too? Did he manage to find some source of happiness and hope afterwards? Would he even remember you if you went back?

Eventually, you save up enough money and have enough time to go back to where it all started, in the unfeeling streets of Gotham City. You had no idea where to look, and after hearing from someone that the orphanage had been burned down ages ago, your last resort was to ask at the GCPD.

"Sorry to bother you," you say with an awkward smile, as a detective greets you and asks if he can be any help; 'Lieutenant James Gordon,' his name tag reads, "I'm looking for someone who I think still lives here? We were friends a while ago, and... I'm sorry, you look busy."

"We are quite busy, Miss," Gordon tells you, looking a little overwhelmed. "We've just managed to catch some crazy psycho who's been letting hell loose recently."

Your eyes widen in confusion and interest. "Wow... that's... yeah, I'm sorry, it's okay."

"No, go on," Gordon nods, letting you into his office, "have you got a name, address or anything?"

"I don't know his address," you say in uncertainty. "We were friends as kids. His name's Edward. Edward Nashton?"

Jams Gordon stops abruptly, whirling around to face you with demanding, bewildered eyes.

"Excuse me?"

You frown. "What?"

"Are you trying to be funny?" Gordon says in shock. "Edward Nashton? That's who you're looking for?"

You nod slowly, and Gordon sighs, taking off his glasses and hiding his face in a hand.

"Look, Miss, I don't know how new you are to Gotham, but Edward Nashton has just been arrested and sent to Arkham Asylum for the crimes committed under the name of The Riddler. He was only just apprehended a few hours ago."

Your breath catches in your throat in disbelief, as Gordon's eyes narrow suspiciously, looking you up and down.

"And you really knew nothing about this? You aren't an accessory?"

"I- no," you shake your head, "I only just made it to Gotham this evening."

Gordon nods slowly, though he still doesn't seem convinced. He suddenly grabs his jacket and opens the office door, glancing back at you.

"Come with me."

You follow him meekly, as he leads you out of the building and into a police car. Are you going to be arrested? Could your Eddie really have done this? Why?

Gordon stops outside Arkham, opening the car door for you to step out, and leads you inside, showing his badge to the guards, who let you proceed. The walls are strong and metallic and thick, and the cells are sealed with heavy iron doors with a small, barred rectangular window at their tops. You try not to let your attention wander, sticking close to Gordon, until he reaches an interrogation room. A mad dressed in a jet-black bat suit already stands there with a frustrated look in his dark eyes, and Gordon signals for you to wait as he goes over to the Batman and whispers something you can't quite make out in his ear. The Batman looks over at you quickly, his expression unreadable, and then he approaches you.

"You know Nashton?" his deep, whispery voice states more than asks, and you nod.

Batman stares at you for another moment before marching back into the interrogation room, nodding at you impatiently to come in. You do, blinking at the hard lights and the security cameras glaring at you from the corners of the room. And, behind the strong, glass partition and metal desk, a young man sits staring at you in disbelief.

Clear, dorky glasses. Murky green eyes. Soft, sandy brown hair. It's definitely him.

"Edward?" you say breathlessly, going to step closer, but the Batman gives you a wary look. "Ed, is that really you?"

He nods wordlessly, his eyes wide and stunned. But beneath that familiar, comforting look he's always had, there's a layer you can only just make out, like a hidden spark of insanity, one that's made the whole city go into a frenzy and even The Batman apprehensive. Edward whispers your name like a prayer, his hands pressed up against the protective glass.

"You came back," he says in wonder, as Gordon and Batman glance between the two of you in uncertainty, but you're not focused on them at all, like the whole world is disappearing around you. "I- I knew you would..."

"What happened?" you say, overwhelmed by the whole scenario, staring in wonder at the now grown-up orphan labelled a criminal in front of you. "What did you do?"

"What I had to do," he smiles brightly, adoringly at you, that glimmer of insanity coming to the surface. "What they made me do. And I did it for you, too."

"Me?"

"Who else?" Edward giggles, standing up and moving closer to the glass, his hands cuffed and chained. "They tried to break us apart. But you came back. I've been waiting for so long..."

"What does she know about this?" The Batman slices through the moment, and Edward glances at him distractedly. "Have you been doing this together?"

"Of course not," Edward breathes, turning his attention back to you with a sweet smile. "She's too pure for that. Too shy, and lovely... it was me. But you inspired me," he insists, looking straight at you, "to make a clean slate, and clean it all up, so that it'd be perfect for us. And it will be, angel. You coming back was the last piece of the puzzle." Edward suddenly gives you that all-too familiar soft, loving look you'd seen back in the orphanage, and you have to fight to compose yourself, wanting so badly to run to him like you did so many times before. "You look so beautiful. You haven't changed a bit..."

You feel like crying, stunned by the casualness of what he's saying and admitting to. "I... oh Edward..." you shake your head, giving him a desperate look. "You're in Arkham."

"That's right," Batman interjects again, "you can't be together. You're a psychopath, Nashton. You're not getting out. I'm sending her back home."

"No, wait," you cut in desperately, still feeling just as drawn to the genius madman even after the dark truths, "please, I don't want to leave him, I can help..."

A guard interrupts, bursting into the interrogation room, and you all turn to him.

"There's been explosions," the guard announces, "the city walls have collapsed and the main road's flooded."

As he speaks, Edward giggles to himself, giving the masked vigilante a dark, unhinged look that makes your heart jump in your chest.

"She's not going anywhere," he says excitedly, grinning at you. "You're right where you need to be. We can watch the whole thing together."

The Batman dithers between leaving and staying, eventually rushing out of the room, along with Gordon, to deal with the flooding crisis, and a guard hustles you out of the room as Edward's voice calls out your name from behind you.

"You'll never leave me again! We were meant to be! You know it's true, darling! You know!"

You manage to glance back at him as you leave, studying his crazed, ecstatic look, that same softness in his eyes as the day you had to leave, but tainted with madness. But as you look, you can't help but smile back at him slightly, because you know it's true.

As the waters invade the city and the building erupts into panic along with the rest of Gotham, you know it's true. And maybe that'll make this all worth it.

⭒❃.✮:▹ 𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ◃:✮.❃⭒ (message me know if you want to be removed. ghost blogs/dead accs have been removed.)

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[whateverisbeautiful]

So I'm kind of a new-ish Richonne fan who only watched TWD this year and kind of binged it at that so it felt like to me the whole Jessie situation kind of interrupted a natural flow of turning Rick and Michonne's relationship from platonic to romantic. Like I get that it was supposed to be "oh, I like this person" moment on the couch but I think I would have preferred if they at least didn't include Jessie at all. Do you think that arc was necessary at all? Or do you think the lead up to Rick and Michonne's first kiss could have been better handled?

Hearing that people are experiencing TWD and Richonne for the first time this year makes me happy. 😊 Glad you're here! I too would have preferred if the Rick and Jessie arc wasn’t included at all and I wrote out more of my take on these questions below (that somehow ended up being essay-length again 😅) ⬇️💗:

The stuff between Rick and Jessie is one of my least favorite storylines in the franchise and really didn’t feel necessary imo. I remember even when I was watching seasons 5/6 live and hadn’t yet realized that Rick and Michonne were meant to be together, I found Rick and Jessie’s storyline to be forced and like it was taking Rick in an unnatural direction all for the sake of honoring the comics. And then after going back and seeing how Rick and Michonne were so obviously on the trajectory to becoming a couple pre-canon, the Rick and Jessie storyline worked even less. Especially after The Distance (5.11).

It’s like they wanted to do a Comic Rick storyline with a TV Rick that had already fallen for Michonne so the whole thing ends up feeling off and hamfisted in. Especially because any time Rick and Michonne had scenes together during that arc it was clear that the love and attraction between them was still very much alive and not being put on pause at all to accommodate the Jessie storyline. I always love seeing how Andy still played Rick as a man whose heart had already been captured by Michonne. 

To me, Rick could have still been involved in the Anderson situation and had it contribute to his spiral without having that added romantic interest included. Like he’s convinced Alexandria can’t be as safe as it seems and then he learns Pete is abusive and that confirms Rick’s heightened suspicions about the place and makes him hellbent on fixing the situation or something.

I’ve seen some argue that Rick needed to go through that stuff with Jessie for his heart to be fully ready for Michonne but I’ve personally always disagreed with that take. While Jessie’s presence led Rick to finally have to confront some buried baggage regarding Lori, I don’t think Jessie was needed to aid Rick and Michonne’s love at all. Even tho it was still deep in their heart, Rick and Michonne had already fallen in love with each other before they even walked through the gates of ASZ. And I think all they really needed was just time to breathe and for the world to finally slow down and stabilize a bit for their feelings to be realized and acted on. Once they could enjoy a stretch of normalcy without having to be so on edge, one of the first things they did was make their feelings known.

When it comes to the lead-up to Richonne’s first kiss, I do always feel that in an ideal world, the Jessie stuff could have just been cut entirely or at least wrapped up a whole lot quicker and that time could be spent showcasing more of the buildup between Rick and Michonne finally being ready to take the next step in their relationship. However, something I always appreciate about their canon ep 6.10 is that the second we see Rick and Michonne together that morning, living this comfortable, happy, domestic life together, whatever else happened before just instantly falls to the wayside as it becomes so undeniable that this is always where their hearts were leading them and always who they were meant to be with. 👌🏽

[straykids-97]

Ego

Part one of the Who Are You saga, inspired by Mingi’s infamous ‘Who are you?’ From Halazia 🫶🏻

‘Ego is nothing other than the focus of conscious attention.’

Synopsis: Wooyoung and San finally convinces you to try something new… and you quickly discover that it’s very taboo…

Warnings: hard Dom! Wooyoung, pleasure switch! San, sub!reader, Dom/sub dynamics, bxfxb, implied bxb, voyerism/ exhibitionism, unprotected sex, use of bondage equipment, impact play(Wooyoung smacks)

Word Count: 3.4k

You had met Jung Wooyoung first; his boisterous voice and golden retriever behavior are what drew you to him in the first place. You were quiet, shy; and he was equally drawn to you for that very reason. 

Wooyoung liked the quiet ones. 

It didn’t take long before you met his best friend; Choi San. He was like Wooyoung in the manner that he too was loud. But, he like you, was shy as well. It took a while to get him to open up to you, and vice versa. Now, you three were inseparable. 

Well, virtually, in thought. 

The only thing that could split you up would be their impending tour; one that they would be away for, at least, four months. But, none of you wanted to think about that. You had a few weeks before that even happened, and all you wanted to think about was the sun shining on your face and San curled up into your side as you lay with Wooyoung on the grass. 

You were idly playing with the ends of San’s hair, and he was peacefully dozing in the crook of your arm. Face planted on your breast as he snoozed away. Your head was resting on Wooyoung’s thigh as he read a book, I’ll Be Right There, a book recommended to him by Hongjoong. You peeked up at Wooyoung, looking at his usually smooth features. Currently, his eyebrows were knitted together in concentration, hidden partially by his glasses that were sliding down the bridge of his nose. You reach up with the hand you were using to run through San’s hair to push them up and he blinks a few times, startled at the movement. A cheeky grin spreads across his face, “y/n-ah, what are you doing?” He teases, nudging you playfully. You smile back at him, stopping when San pulls you tighter into his chest, grumbling in his sleep. “Oh, whoops. Sorry, Sannie.” You return to the motions of running your fingers through his short hair and he settles back into your arm, resting once again. “Poor baby, can’t be disturbed.” Wooyoung snorts, making you giggle. 

You decide that you could live the rest of your life just like this. 

You giggle at Wooyoung as he drunkenly tries to rid himself of his jeans. He stumbles, holding onto your table for balance. San stands, half undressed, one leg out of his pants and the other bare, looking rather proud. 

A night of drinking led to the boys staying the night, something that you were used to. 

San heaved a hefty sigh before leaning against the wall again, kicking his leg free vigorously, “San-hyung,” Wooyoung began to chastise as San leaned onto one of your side tables for stability, “Be careful!” You hold San’s elbow just as he manages to kick his foot free. He gives you a sweet drunken smile, “Thank you-u-u!” He draws out the ‘U’, singing it slightly as he begins to remove his white shirt. You start to laugh but stop when you hear a chair clatter to the floor. You and San turn to see Wooyoung on the floor, looking startled. There was silence for a few moments until Wooyoung burst into laughter, you and San following right behind. 

“Hey!” San announces, raising his hands above his head in triumph for his friend, “You got your pants off!” You join in with San as Wooyoung manages to get to his feet, bowing and nearly toppling over yet again. “Thank you! Thank you, no need to con-congratulate me!” He slurs, yanking his black shirt off with ease, “I did it myself.” You laugh at them as they wander into your apartment, gathering their shed clothes as they flop onto your couch. They begin to bicker about the TV remote as you toss their clothes into the washer and start it; not before pulling their wallets and phones out. 

You enter the kitchen to gather up water bottles and saunter back into the living area to find them both staring at the screen, engrossed in whatever it was that they put on. You smile, handing them their drinks and flopping between them. “Drink this,” you tell them, “you’ll feel better in the morning.” San immediately opens the water and begins to drink the water, “Wooyoung-ie,” San demands, “listen to y/n! She’s looking after your health.” Wooyoung grumbles as he looks over at you, frowning and narrowing his eyes. “Why are you dressed still? San and I are basically naked.” He waved his hand over your body. 

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Wooyoung!” You slap his arm, making him whine, “Ow.” 

“Don’t pressure her into down dressing, Wooyoung.” San frowns at his friend, “Well, she’s more dressed.” Wooyoung pouted. You look down at yourself, and without thinking, stand up and pull your shirt off, flop down, and kick your pants off. San cheers, “Yeah! Join the party!” 

Wooyoung didn’t say anything; he gripped his water so hard that he spilled it. 

The next morning Wooyoung woke up before San and entered your room as you brushed your teeth. You nearly jump out of your skin when you see him lean against your bathroom doorframe. “Woo,” you hold your chest and turn to look at him, spitting your toothpaste out. “I didn’t know you were awake.” He blinks at you, he doesn’t respond. “Woo?” You frown, leaning over and rinsing your mouth out. You lean back and see that he’s standing right behind you, making you whirl around in shock. 

“Woo-” You start to say, but stop when he takes a step toward you. Normal joking, playful Wooyoung was gone. You had never seen this side of him before and you didn’t know if it scared you or- 

You couldn’t think straight as his face neared yours, his breath fanning across your cheeks as he eyed you. “Why’d you go to your bed last night, y/n?” His voice was low. It almost sounded rhetorical. “Uh- because there wasn’t room-” You stop talking when he cocks his head to the side, “because-” He blinks lazily at you, his eyes darkening with an emotion you hadn’t ever seen before. 

Lust. 

“Don’t lie, baby.” He murmurs, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, continuing on, “I can tell when you lie.” Wooyoung’s eyes bounce over your face, watching for the minute emotions on your face to detect the truth. “Now tell me again,” he tilted his chin up, looking down his nose at you, “I-” you stutter before clearing your throat. “I didn’t want to make it awkward so I went to bed.” 

“Alone?” You feebly nod at his question. He frowns at you, tutting his tongue, “you should have asked us to come with you. San would have loved to cuddle you, you know.” With that, he takes a step back and you feel like you can breathe again. “Tonight, when we get done with practice. Meet us for dinner.” He says, eyeing you once more before leaving you alone in your bathroom. You stand there, utterly baffled at his actions, but something makes your skin flush hot. 

And you weren’t sure what it was that made you listen to him. 

Just as their practice ended for the day, you messaged them and asked where to meet for dinner. San told you the usual spot; a BBQ place that wasn’t far from their company that they enjoyed. 

You felt anxious as you slipped your shoes on and began the trek over to the usual spot. You could have driven and it would have taken less time, but you wanted to walk to calm down. 

You enter the establishment, greeting the older man who owned the place and requesting your usual spot in the corner by the window. The man immediately obliged and guided you to the back, “Are your friends joining?” You quickly nod your head, “Yes. I should probably ask when they’ll be here.” You admit sheepishly. The older man smiled down at you, “Ah, no rush! They’ll arrive when they feel like it.” He waves you off and you giggle as he walks away. 

However, his words don’t stop you from still messaging the group chat to find where they were. Just as you finished typing out the message you heard San yell your name from across the mostly empty restaurant, “y/n-ah!” He sounded chipper than normal. 

Your head snaps up to him, and see him frantically waving you down, a bright smile splattered over his face. You can’t help but mirror him, your anxiety instantly melting away as you stand and he wraps his arms around you, “Sannie!” You beam as he picks you up, “How was practice?” You ask as Wooyoung joins you, also hugging you. “Hard.” San sighs, sliding into the booth, “We’re blocking a new choreo,” he waves his hand as he drags the water cup toward him. You slid into the booth, Wooyoung waiting until you were settled before also joining you both in the booth. 

You all chat as dinner commences, every little worry you had disappearing as the meal continues. 

As usual, you all stayed so long that you were the only group left and the owner eventually had to tell you guys to leave, like usual. You all sheepishly leave, but San pouts, “We’re off tomorrow, can’t we come over for a little bit?” You can’t tell him no- you’ve never been able to when he juts out that bottom lip. 

You sigh, “Yes. But don’t mind the mess. I haven’t properly cleaned since last week.” You waggle your finger and he links his arm with yours, resting his head on yours, “I don’t mind. Do you, Woo?” 

“Not at all.” Wooyoung links his arm through your other arm and you all walk arm and arm down the street. The 15-minute walk feels like nothing now that you have company, and you almost forget what happened this morning. But as soon as you enter the safety of your apartment, and San closes the door, the mood changes. 

You feel suffocated again, but you try to ignore it as you kick your shoes off, “I found a new movie we could watch.” You being, trying to diffuse the feeling that currently surrounded you all. “What’s it called?” San asked, his voice sounding deeper than normal. You turn to look at him to find him a few feet away, his warm eyes regarding you carefully. As if he was watching you, preying on you as if you were a small rabbit and he a fox. Your eyes bounce to Wooyoung, who was pulling his jacket off, and hanging it up by the door. 

You clear your throat and look away, “Um. I forgot it’s on my list to watch though.” You say, shuffling to your living room, desperately trying to get some space to think clearly. You click on the TV and scroll through the various different streaming services until you find the one you are talking about. “I was wanting to watch it last night, but you guys were too drunk.” You giggle nervously.

That seemed to break the damn that was holding Wooyoung back. 

“I wasn’t too drunk. I still remember a lot,” he counters, coming to sit on your couch. “Like you going to bed alone…” 

“Yeah,” San adds, making you whirl to see him barely a foot away. You gulp; the look in his eyes is unmistakable. “I could have held you…” He trails off, implying that there is more on his mind. “And?” Your voice is barely audible. “And?” Wooyoung pried, making you turn to look at him. You felt like you were spinning in circles with these two. 

“Is there more you wanted to happen, y/n?” San asked, making you shift and look into his eyes. He pressed his chest against your back, moving your hair behind your ear, “Having dirty dreams about me, baby?” He purred. 

Your mouth falls open and you nearly drop your remote. “Wh-what? No-” You start but you freeze as Wooyoung rises to his feet and he approaches you, pinning you between his and San’s chests. “Don’t lie, y/n,” Wooyoung warns. You shudder as Wooyoung’s fingers ghost down your sides. Your mind was whirling, “I-I,” you can’t form a coherent string of thoughts as their hands paw and grope all over you. 

Your skin felt hot, like you had been drinking and the liquor was starting to get to you. “Look at her,” Wooyoung leaned in, biting his lip, “she’s all flustered. It’s so sweet.” San took a deep breath as he held your hips, pulling you against him. You gasped, feeling just how much he was enjoying this. “San,” your voice is husky, and it causes him to groan into your hair. “Woo,” he moans, biting your ear. You shudder as Wooyoung steps away, “She’s just so- fuck.” He grunts as Wooyoung pulls his shirt off, wiggling his finger at you. “Strip.” 

You gawk at him, “Strip?” Wooyoung doesn’t look amused that you parroted his question. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” You slowly start to take your clothes off, glancing over your shoulder to find San only in his underwear. You would have giggled at him any other time, but this wasn’t one of those times. Containing a shudder, you bite your lip turning back to Wooyoung just as you peel your pants off. 

“Good girl,” He gestures to the couch, “Sit.” You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of your couch, watching Wooyoung and San like a hawk. They share a look and Wooyoung nods to you, “You go first.” 

First? 

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets as San kneels before you, basically drooling as he places his hands on your knees. “God-” he groans, spreading your legs slightly, “I’ve been dreaming of this day.” You nearly choke on air as he places a wet, sloppy kiss on your inner thigh. 

Your head was spinning again, drunk on the feeling of San between your thighs. And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, Wooyoung sits beside you, wrapping his arm over your shoulders. “He’s good at foreplay…” He chuckles, biting his lip as he looks at you. “And I like to watch… If you don’t mind.” His cool fingertips cause you to jolt as his fingers dance along the skin of your exposed chest and stomach. 

He was distracting you from San as his mouth inched closer and closer to your drenched panties. Your eyes snap to him as San’s thumb runs up your slit, causing you to arch your back. “San!” You cry out, tears of pleasure prickling your eyes. You were overstimulated but in the best way. 

You hated to admit that, even when all they did was work you up at this point. What would it feel like when they finally did do something-

You gasp as San moves your panties to the side, groaning as he taps your wet core. “She’s so wet, Woo.” Wooyoung grunts, his eyes meeting yours as his cold fingers dance down your stomach again, pausing their circuit long enough to join San’s fingers as they played with your cunt. Your legs quiver slightly as San fingers you softly and Wooyoung rubs your clit. Both men are groaning, one in your ear and the other as he watches your wet pussy with a hungry gaze. 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, San bats Wooyoungs hand away from your clit and latches his mouth to it instead. You gasp, going to reach for his hair. 

But Wooyoung is faster, lifting your leg up and holding it in place as he simultaneously grabs your wrists. The crook of his elbow held the back of your knee prisoner, not only keeping you from moving, but giving San better access to your weeping cunt. 

“Fuck!” You cry out, writhing as much as you can in your limited movement. Wooyoung let go of your hands long enough to slap your tit, “Enough!” He hissed, “Stop moving or San will stop.” San pulled away, “I’d hate to do that, I’m enjoying it so-” He stopped as he relatched to your swollen clit. 

You groan, biting your lip to contain the wail of pleasure that threatened to rip through you as San inserted another finger, curling upward to hit that gooey spot. Your eyes roll and your mouth falls open, Wooyoung takes the opportunity to latch his mouth to yours, muttering a quick, “Cum for us.” 

You oblige. 

You tense, your complete body washing with the most fierce orgasm you have ever experienced in your entire life. The only thing keeping you from screaming was Wooyoung’s mouth. 

You shudder as San pulls away, holding his fingers out for Wooyoung as he rises to his feet. “My turn,” Wooyoung slides off the couch, and San swaps places, grabbing your jaw and wrapping his lips around yours. You were too distracted by San’s plump lips to notice that Wooyoung wasn’t going to use his mouth to pleasure you as San had.

You feel the tip of Wooyoung’s cock rub you, causing you to gasp and look at him. San chuckles huskily, “This is my favorite part,” San groans, lapping your ear as Wooyoung pushes into you. You gasped, holding onto Wooyoung’s wrists as he pushed your knees up to your chest. San held one of your legs, and one of your hands as he used the other to rub quick fast circles on your clit. You gasped, not realizing that San had manhandled you into his lap until he spoke into your ear, “You’re not gonna walk for a few days after we’re done with you.” 

You whimper as Wooyoung pounds into you, fast, oh so fast. You squeal as an orgasm stuns you, causing them both to moan as San slaps your clit, causing you to shriek in surprise. San manipulated your head back so that he placed a sloppy wet kiss on your mouth. You whimper at his tongue, which still tastes like you, danced with yours. 

Your cheeks and neck were flushed; these two were so overwhelming, in every sense of the word.

Wooyoung never ceases his impossible pace, whimpering slightly, pounding harder. Your toes begin to curl as the sensation of yet another orgasm threatens to overtake you, but before it can, Wooyoung pulls out and sprays cum across your thighs and ass. You gasp, staring down at the mess. He takes a few moments to gather himself before San maneuvers you up, freeing his strained cock. You gasp as Wooyoung helps guide San’s cock into you. You throw your head back, Wooyoung was longer, but San had girth. 

You gasp at the sensation of spit landing on your clit, and you look up to see Wooyoung watching your pussy with a wicked glint in his eye. He watched as his spit leaked down to where San plunged into you. Your mind goes blank; San was deep inside you, a completely different sensation from Wooyoung. 

You pant as Wooyoung’s thumb draws slow, deep circles over your clit. You don’t know where to hold, San’s wrist, Wooyoung’s, or the back of your legs. “Fuck- fuck!” You cry out as San suddenly snaps his hips into yours in quick succession. An intense orgasm rips through you, and you almost jump away, but San and Wooyoung’s hands keep you firm in place. Wooyoung chuckles as San whines, “How could you last so long?” He grunts, burying his face in your neck. “I barely did. Seems like we need to get used to her tight, little-” He stops talking when another orgasm barrels through you. “God!” you scream, San’s hand slapping over your mouth before your neighbors called the cops over a noise complaint. “She’s gonna get us into trouble, Sannie.” Wooyoung sighs, and San takes that as to hurry it along cuz his hips pick up pace. And after finding a rhythm, he caused you to cum twice more before doing the same. 

The three of you pant, lying on the couch. You were lying on Wooyoung, and San was lying on you. San made invisible patterns along your hip and thigh as Wooyoung played with your hair. “As much as I would love to lay here all night,” Wooyoung sighs, “But the stench of sex is starting to get pungent. We should shower.” 

San looks up at Wooyoung, “Round two?”

©️straykids-97

[hayanwulf]

Prompt: Domestic ironstrange, maybe some soft cuddles after a stressful day?

Stephen watched, holding back a smile, as Tony tried to wrap a bandage around the wound on Stephen’s forearm.

“You’re terrible at this, Tony.”

Tony scowled at him. “You’re the one who refused to go to your doctor friend. Don’t complain if you won’t accept better help. And I’m not that bad, y’know. I stitch myself up all the time.”

Stephen hummed, giving a considering look to the stitch Tony had given him on the gash on his stomach. “You stitches are.. adequate.”

Tony muttered something unintelligible, undoing some of the bandage to wrap it better.

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“I was saying thank you, the great Doctor Strange, for bestowing me with such a high praise!”

Stephen rolled his eyes.

Tony’s second try at wrapping the bandage wasn’t all that better than his first try. Before he had finished, Stephen reached out with his free hand and placed it on top of Tony’s. Tony looked up at him with inquisitive eyes.

“Let me show you.”

Stephen took the bandage in his hand and unraveled it from his arm. His hand shook, but Tony’s hands was there, firm and strong, giving him stability. Stephen led the movement, wrapping the bandage as best as he could, and Tony helped him through it, until his wound was covered all nice and perfectly.

Tony exhaled a quiet sigh, tracing his hand down Stephen’s arm, from the bandage to the scars on his fingers. “You should let me make you a suit already,” he muttered a little discontently.

“No, Tony. I’m fine as I am.”

Tony’s expression said that he strongly disagreed with Stephen, but didn’t argue further. He huffed, picking up all the medical supplies to arrange them back inside the box. “Let’s put on a movie. Wong will be dropping us your favorite steamed buns from Kamar-Taj.”

“They’re called momos.”

Tony moved towards the bathroom with the medical box in his hand, waving a hand flippantly. “Po-tay-to, to-may-to.”

“Those aren’t even the same thing!” Stephen called out after Tony just as the latter disappeared through the bathroom door.

Later, they were stretched out together on the couch, Sherlock streaming on TV. Empty food containers were spread over the table. Stephen lay on top of Tony, his head resting on Tony’s chest, the Cloak draped over both of their bodies.

The TV was muted. Neither of them were actually watching the show anymore. Tony was talking about everything and nothing, and Stephen was content to just lay there and listen to his voice, feel the heartbeat and the pleasant rumble in his chest where Stephen was pressed against him, feel the sensation of Tony playing with his hair every now and then, or combing calloused fingers through his hair.

It was nice. It was warm, safe, and tender. The best thing he could’ve possibly received after the long day he’d had in the Draekhar Dimension.

Sleep only came naturally to him.

[adversary-to-inamorato]

Sketch Dump! ⭐ 📺

So far this is the updated and current one that I'm running with, yipee!!

While writing this, I think I have to clarify that there will be a lot of dark themes in the making since the OG game deals with a lot of shit and it WILL be applied in this AU. Viewer Discretion is Advised.

Close up below! (And more information)

IGBP!4 → Needy Streamer!4

After lashing out and isolating himself from the party outside, the Adware said something intriguing that has led SMG4 to a path of no return

After time has passed inside the TV dimension, his personality has warped and his mental stability deteriorates – because it was never resolved in the first place

A moment in the lore where SMG4 (attempts to) give nicknames to our beloved Mr.Puzzles

Puzzles does not approve

Anyway have a chibi4 :3

Since his satiation to make the best video content has yet to be reached, SMG4 will have moments of spiralling (and going insane) while Puzzles would just have to witness his frequent tweakin'

And finally, SMG4 reveals his producer. His P-chan that is behind it all. Chat goes wild upon seeing the TV man

I'm not saying I ship them unironically (due to the unhealthy nature of it) but there is slight flirting between these two in this hellhole of a situation.

For they are two men reach for the skies, no matter how hard and long the fall.

[bamboobooshark]

PETER QUILL • 🎇

New Year’s Kiss || 700 Words || P.G. 13 Rating || Fandom: Marvel (Gaurdians of The Galaxy)

Author’s Note: Sigh. Quill is infecting my head badly. Take a short fic (more of a blurb) on a New Year’s kiss with him!

CONTENT WARNINGS: Slightly suggestive content, Make-out scene, Language, Pet names.

The TV played in front of you and Peter. The crowd began to count down with the large timer on the shiny building. Quill smiled, admiring how you got all wide-eyed while looking at the screen as if you were really there and standing in the large, noisy crowd. He reached his hands down to intertwine his fingers with yours. You slipped your fingers with his slowly before meeting his eyes. You both gave each other that goofy, loving grin before counting down together. Your fingers squeezed each other’s hands tighter by the second before the count down reached one. “Happy new year, baby,” Quill whispered to you sweetly. You murmured it back kindly before Peter’s hands took to your cheeks. Your breath quickly picked up when he did so, your eyes flickering back and forth between the TV screen and his hazel eyes. You settled down and kissed his lips gently and he quickly returned the gesture. He sighed softly once you pulled back. One of his hands slid down to the small of your back and the other held the back of your head. “I need to get some more kisses in,” he murmured as he nuzzled against your neck. Your hands reached behind him as you gasped, your fingers grabbing at his shirt. “First make out session of the year?” you asked with a chuckle. Quill nodded against the flesh of your neck before he began to gently nip at your throat. You tossed your head back from the sensation and to give him more access to your neck. Your breath got heavier causing Peter to chuckle. “Ain’t that a pretty sound?” he crooned as he led you to the couch. You used one hand to stabilize and sit yourself down on one of the cushions. Peter’s name came out as a broken stammer as he bit at your throat once more. “It’s okay, honey. Breathe for me. Just breathe,” he guided softly. You nodded your head and let yourself sink into the cushions. He smiled against your skin before letting out a heavy sigh. He moved himself and you so he was hovering over you. “Yeah, there. Good job. Good fuckin’ job,” he praised quietly. He grabbed your wrists gently and led your hands to his curls. You took it as an invitation to tangle your fingers into his locks. He moved down, almost laying down on you. Quill grinned down at you and you returned the look. “Takin’ forever, Quill,” you teased. He gave you a challenging look before beginning to kiss your lips. Patterns of grunts, moans, and hitched breaths came from the two of you. His teeth caught at your bottom lip and held it there. “Want in,” he growled. He released your lip before you quickly took his request. Your lips parted for him, your fingers tightening in his hair to prepare yourself. His tongue went straight for yours. You whined, Peter huffed. One hand moved to your cheek to gently caress it while the other held him up. You tasted him as he did the same, taking you in generously. He groaned into your mouth. Your hands traveled down to the hem of his shirt and went under. Your hands ran along his firm stomach. He began to get greedy. His hand that was on your cheek moved to your neck. Your breath hitched and Peter pulled back. A long string of saliva connected your lips. Both you and him were breathing as if there was barely an air left on Earth. Your eyes looked glossy and he was quick to note it. “Breathe, baby. I’m not gonna choke you. I just need you closer,” he crooned. His thumb ran to the center of your throat, to your chin, then back down. A minute or two passed before you quickly slipped your hands to the small of his back. You pushed down to wordlessly signal your need for Quill. “Alright! Calm down. Patience is a virtue, baby,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes before kissing his lips. You opened your mouth, immediately wanting to get back where you left off. He released a groan into your mouth, a murmured “fuck,” following it. Your tongue slipped past his lips and you were practically devouring him inside his mouth. His body shivered as he finally reacted. More. You both just needed more. That’s what you gave each other.

Tag List: @wimpyvamps @gh0stlyb34r

[keeline21345]

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[waitmyturtles]

Jumping into the Cooking Crush familial fray...

I've lately been a bit behind on all my dramas, but I did see percolating over the weekend a great conversation among drama friends and fiends about interpretations of Asian parenting tactics, family values, interfamily communication, and intergenerational trauma regarding Cooking Crush.

This past weekend's episode 11 seemed to bring up a lot. I feel like one of my Reasons for Being on Tumblr is to share thoughts on Asian family dynamics, structures, and tensions regarding our beloved Asian dramas, so I am simply going to add a few extra thoughts to @neuroticbookworm's absolutely FANTASTIC post here that meditates on the ongoing conflict between Ten and his father.

Before I jump into NBW's amazing post, I want to linky-poo some previous writing that I've done on Asian cultural touchpoints in other shows:

Poor Bad Buddy got the Asian analytical treatment here and here

Only Friends and Mew's lesbian moms being Asian moms first, here

A meditation specifically on BBS's Dissaya and saving face, here (which, in regards to her conflict with Ming, we should note, directly led to her literally sending her son physically away from her to continue the family feud)

When I watch our beloved Asian shows, as an Asian-American, I am clicking unconsciously into certain assumptions about how Asian parents and children WILL behave when parents are called for in a show (I emphasized this specifically in my OF piece about Mew's moms). I expect there to be either filial piety present, or struggles with it. I expect to see elder hierarchy and/or issues with elder respect. I expect to see issues regarding saving face. I expect to see issues regarding conditional love, and how a child should act so a parent may boast and/or save face with their external social circles. I expect to see issues regarding independence and parental control over... just about everything in a child's life, from their education to their partners. (Think of King's parents in Bed Friend, and how his parents were ready to arrange a marriage for him; Tian's parents sending him to America in A Tale of Thousand Stars, etc.)

Shows that DON'T deal with these issues -- shows that have wonderfully understanding parents, like Thun's mom in He's Coming To Me, and Pete's dad in Dark Blue Kiss, are also realistic, because of course, nothing is universal, and there are understanding and unconditionally loving parents in every culture.

But most of the Asian shows that we watch have themes like filial piety and elder respect/control present, and it's up to the show's writers to figure out how these elements play into the plots that they're writing.

Through @neuroticbookworm's post, I see that some in the Cooking Crush fandom are calling for Ten's dad to apologize for his hypocrisy in calling Ten out for hitting Chang Ma, while we have seen Ten's dad slapping Ten.

I want to get into how Ten engages with his father in a second, because it's pretty rare in Asian shows to see a child so directly combative, so consistently, with a parent figure. But before that, NBW makes an excellent point with the following:

But, I understand it when my friends, and Asian characters in TV shows, don’t want to force things out in the open if it can be swept under the rug for the time being, because peace of mind in Asian households is fleeting and you would be wise to take what you get.

This is a very important point that those of us in the social services are hammered with -- in other words, how do individuals, as they are growing up, adjust their behaviors to keep the stability of their family bonds either strong, or at least not weak enough to break? How does a child learn to adapt and/or cope for the sake of the other older individuals in their families who DEMAND compliance with their own emotional needs?

Ten has a combative relationship with his father -- but he's still done everything his father has asked for, save for staying away from Prem. As @respectthepetty previously noted, Fire becomes submissive around pressure and high-tension individuals and situations -- because that's how he's learn to cope vis à vis his mother and his upbringing.

This framing -- these specific, generational, tension-informed family dynamics that we see ad nauseam in Asian dramas -- do not lead to an automatic assumption among Asian audiences that apologies would emanate from the parental generation. Especially because the previous generational paradigm is that children have and should go along with the flow of parental control and demands -- as Ten and Fire have so far done.

In Asian collectivist societies and mentalities -- to combat against that flow of control would lead to a breaking of the peace among the family unit, in NBW's words.

I would even go so far as to say that an apology from a parent is as much of a fictional ending fantasy as a perfect romantic ending. And damn, what we have to go through to get an apology. NBW brought up Double Savage, which was so awfully messy -- we got a parental apology only after a not-at-fault child had to unnecessarily apologize first. The show made the children work beyond basic emotional ethics to get that parental apology. That's how rare it is for us Asians to expect a parent to apologize. (And NBW notes so beautifully that even showmakers themselves may not know how to write apologies -- because they themselves may have never received one in real life.)

Considering all these family dynamics and tensions, getting a 180-degree admission of wrongdoing from an Asian parent is rare. And part of the fabric of the lives of us Asians is in sharing stories with our communities about the tensions, the trauma, the misunderstandings that we've faced from our families to be perfect and obedient in all aspects of our lives, as NBW so eloquently says about her country's culture, which includes tremendous control over the sexual lives of children. That's why I go to Asian shows over Western media -- so that I can experience some of that communing over commonalities in fiction.

I want to make one final quick point about Ten's behavior towards his dad, which we see is abrupt and combative. Ten's got some gumption to talk to his father like that, which, me likey, but it's rare to see in Asian shows. Of utmost importance to note is that their history is marked by a severely traumatic event in the death of Ten's mom, which is guaranteed to have had a lifelong impact on the bond between Ten and his dad, and colors their relationship. I know that's obvious by way of the dialogue, but what we see in this outburst is a kind of marked ending to a journey map of his life's experience that got him to the point of the fight. (@neuroticbookworm, I'm stealing your screenshots, thank yew, friend!)

This fight had A LOT IN IT. It was about saving face, about the embarrassment that Ten's dad knows the slapping event will cause on Ten and Ten's friends (and, frankly, Ten's dad himself). It was about Ten's childhood trauma in losing his mother and his anger with his father for his father's actions. It was a revelation that Ten's dad had actually acted, in his own way, and failed at saving Ten's mom. It was about Ten's performance in school, and how Ten says that he has indeed been keeping up with his father's standards. And a whole lot more.

I'm betting money on at least some people -- maybe many people -- in Asian audiences watching this and being critical of Ten for being so combative to his father, his father being Ten's provider for education and money. THIS CRITICISM IS VERY COMMON.

While Western fandoms may celebrate performances of individualism and confrontation, many in Asian audiences will not agree with that. They will see Ten being disrespectful to a parental figure that, in our cultural mores, would arguably automatically demand respect from the start through our notions of elder respect and hierarchy.

This is, in part, because many Asians see going against the flow of familial peace as disruptive. And, anthropologically -- who are we in the West to judge that?

That's why this scene is SO FUCKING HUGE. As an American, I'm like, fuck yeah, read this fucking dad out for filth. As an Asian, I'm like, WHOAAAAAAAAAA. For real.

AND? THE ENDING of this fight -- with Ten's dad making one actually good point about how Ten's punch will affect his friends?

That's collectivism again. That's Ten's dad helping Ten to grow in that moment and recognize that Ten's actions affect other people. That shit is complicated, and I believe it's 100% intended to be complicated.

The dad is still clearly a hypocrite. I do not think that we get that entire fight scene without the show commenting on Ten's dad's hypocrisy that one's actions have impacts on others. Ten's dad is not clicked into his own collectivism, and I believe the show calls him out for it. If that scene only wanted to call out Ten -- we would have only seen that last part about Prem and Prem's friends. We would not have gotten all that other backstory, all the threads in this incredible fight scene.

It was a hell of a well-done scene. And I very much believe that scene is symbolic of this entire show -- marketed as a comedy, friends! -- being insidiously about very complicated family bonds, and depicting the struggles of these bonds just brilliantly.

This show is DIGGING THE HELL into the family backgrounds of characters experiencing tremendous life changes -- including MEDICAL STUDENTS! THE CREAM OF THE CROP FOR ASIAN PARENTS! -- and showing how these pressures can make young adults crumble or resilient.

I didn't mean to write so long, but alas -- y'all talk about Asian families, and I gotta yap. Thank you for letting me throw some coins in the pot, and to offer some thoughts about what us Asians are clicking into in our beloved Asian shows.

Tagging @lurkingshan, @bengiyo, @respectthepetty, @heretherebedork, and @williamrikers for enlightening convos this weekend, and many thanks to my dear Asian friendo @neuroticbookworm for one hell of a meditation that I enjoyed and related to deeply.

[hereticpriest]

Sriracha

Relationship: Dirk Brûlée x Reader

Warnings: Loss of parents, single mom reader raising her younger brother, rough sex, sex toys, sybian, vaginal fingering, oral sex, barely-there handjob, bad flirting, bad puns.

Once upon a time, if someone told you you would be going to a taping of Everything At Once, you would have laughed at them. A variety-talk show hybrid aimed at children wasn't something you ever thought you would be interested in. Once upon a time, you had your whole life together and spread out in front of you, ripe for the taking. You were enrolled in university, living in a decent apartment, with a stable boyfriend and a steady side job to support you. You spoke with your parents every few days, and had just attended your mother's wedding to your stepfather, with whom you had a decent relationship. She had you as a teenager, and the split with your father broke her heart, but your stepfather was a nice guy who brought some stability to her life. She gave birth to your new little brother shortly into your first year at university, and you loved to visit him whenever you could.

Now, you were a single mother to your younger brother, struggling to balance your responsibilities as a mother, father and sister with duties at work. Thankfully, you had a decent job as a PA for an art gallery owner who was also letting you intern with his art curator whenever you finished your work. Having an educated PA was a bonus that he wasn't about to let go of, and he paid well because you were loyal, and reliable, and probably at least a little bit because he pitied you. But you weren't above pity money - you needed it to take care of your little monster.

Your boss was also the only reason you managed to get these tickets and secure your place as 'best mom ever'. Being called mom wasn’t what you expected from the birth of your little brother, however, your parents passed away in a tragic accident when your brother was only four, and he barely remembered them. You were Mom more than you were his sister, and you’d learned to accept that over the last three years. Sean was a rambunctious seven year old, and like many kids his age, he was absolutely obsessed with Everything At Once. Your boss had connections with some of the crew of the show, and he was able to secure you tickets as a birthday gift.

"Not a good birthday gift for you, I suppose, but I know Sean is your world so hopefully it will suit." He’d said as he handed the tickets to you.

He knew you so well.

Which led you here, standing in the back of the studio with the other parents while Sean was led up into the audience by a friendly-looking young PA. Your baby was vibrating out of his light-up sneakers, and you couldn't stop smiling, happy to see him so excited. He'd insisted on dressing up like his idol, so he was wearing his most colourful clothes - a highlighter pink shirt and lavender pants, paired with his trusty light-up shoes. He had his Dirk Brûlée shirt stuffed into your purse so that he could see if he could get it signed after the taping, and a rather stunning photograph of the talk show host that you’d printed on expensive photo paper protected within a manila envelope. You had to promise to frame it in order for Sean to let you hold onto it during the taping.

Unlike your brother, you chose to wear a baby blue midi sundress with corset boning in the bodice, puffy sleeves, a tulle skirt, and a lovely neckline that enhanced your chest. It’s all very appropriate despite the attractive bodice, and paired with cute wedge sandals, it gives you a youthful and charming look. Despite not being on TV, you put on makeup and styled your hair to make sure you would look good since you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of anyone. You wanted to dress your age, while still looking like an adult, and you never got to wear this kind of clothing at work since they had a strict business casual-adjacent dress code at the gallery. This dress would never fly without a blazer, and a blazer would be uncomfortable with the sleeves.

"God, she's young isn't she?"

"Gotta be a teen mom. She looks like she's barely out of high school. If she even graduated.”

You frown. You'd think by now you would be used to how catty other parents could be, but somehow, you still let it get to you. The judgement. As if they knew anything about you. A deep, centering breath brings you back to the present - Sean is happy, and their words don't matter. Instead, you focus on your sweet little brother, the most important (and only) man in your life. The hype guy is riling up the kids, bouncing around with an excitement you wish you could muster but have been struggling to manage with the extra hours you've been taking on. By the time you go to bed every night, you’re exhausted, passing out in bed the minute your head hits the pillow.

Thank god for your friends, all of whom act as amazing aunts and uncles for Sean. Your oldest friend, Nadia, has a son only a year younger than Sean, and they're thicker than thieves so they hang out often. Nadia picks the boys up from school every night, and watches Sean until you get home from work just after 5. After work, you make dinner nearly every night, then take a shower while Sean finishes his homework that he started at Nadia’s. Together, you watch the newest episode of Everything At Once on the PVR since Nadia doesn’t believe in letting the kiddos watch TV, and it’s a nice little hour of cuddle time that forces you to relax on the couch. Once that’s done, you both clean up - Sean cleans the living room and his bedroom while you clean the kitchen and whatever else needs to be tidied. Cleaning up throughout the week gives you the chance to spend weekends with Sean, with only very rare Saturday evenings reserved for gallery events.

You’ve committed to driving him to school every day on your way to work, and you’ve never missed a day except when you’re sick as a dog. You give Sean every moment of your time that you can, leaving very little for yourself, and you’re starting to feel the burn out. You haven’t had a real break since the death of your parents, and at this point, you couldn’t afford one any time soon either. Your friends would take Sean if you needed them to, but you feel guilty not spending time with him when you have it. Perhaps sometime soon, it wouldn’t feel like a failure to take more than a night or two to yourself. Even tonight, you have your friend Garrett and his wife Kimmie picking Sean up from the studio to go to their house for the weekend for their son’s birthday celebration, giving you a weekend to yourself for the first time in ages, and you feel guilty.

A PA informs the parents that Dirk is about to come out, and you snap out of the deep well of your thoughts, brightening up at the sight of Sean’s excited little foot taps. The theme music kicks in, and Dirk Brûlée swings out through the glitzy, colourful streamers to the raucous applause of the kids. You smile fondly as he passes out high-fives and fist bumps, and you can see the brilliant smile that spreads across Sean’s face as he gets one of his own. Your heart melts, and everything you’ve ever missed out on for him is worth it just to see him this happy.

Dirk greets a couple more kids, then ruffles Sean’s hair as he passes him towards his chair, and the show begins. The first guests are always there for an experimental, goofy skit-like interview - today being the stars of a popular children’s show that you vaguely recognize as something Sean watched when he was younger. The interview plays into the stars’ characters, with humorous nods towards the adults in the crowd with vague jokes that would go over a child’s head. This is followed by Dirk’s typical dance break, in which he introduces the musical guest, then hypes the kids up and dances with them to the musical guest’s set. You laugh as Sean gets his turn, and spins Dirk the way he normally would spin you when you two dance together, and you can’t help but feel some warm bubblies towards Dirk for the way he goes along with it seamlessly. It’s sweet that he seems to genuinely enjoy the children - there’s a sparkle in his eye that you recognize as sincerity. It’s such a rare thing to see, and despite hearing rumours that Dirk is a giant diva, you decide that you like him just for the way he interacts with the kids.

Once the dance break is over, Dirk welcomes the musical guest on stage for an interview, and you’re impressed that he was able to get a popular up-and-coming boyband. His accent is softer after years spent away from his home country, but you can hear it in his ‘r’s and the way he pronounces words with ‘th’ sounds. You don’t know much about Dirk, but you know his mother is a famous French actress and his father was a Hollywood director. Maybe growing up in the industry is what made him such a natural interviewer. The conversation flows easily, with Dirk asking surprisingly poignant questions for a show with a primarily child audience. He strikes an easy balance between fun and serious, keeping the kids engaged while also managing to keep his guests entertained as well. After the musical guest, the last guest is introduced with a scene from an upcoming kids’ movie, and you smile as Dirk begins a rambunctious interview with an actor you think you know, but can’t quite place from where. The show ends with another little dance party, after which Dirk promises to meet all the kids and answer questions after a quick break.

Sean nearly knocks you off your feet when he runs to you, and you lift him up into your arms as you watch Dirk walk backstage over his shoulder. The moms who were talking shit earlier greet their kids - a blond little girl with a very cute bow and seemingly endless pout, and a dark-haired boy who looks like he fell out of a bland ‘aesthetic’ home magazine photo. The poor kid looks uncomfortable in his khakis and polo shirt - Sean would scream if you tried to put him in an outfit like that. The judgemental stares don’t bother you too much now that you’ve got Sean to distract you. So long as he doesn’t notice, you couldn’t care less what they think of you. You pause to chat with a couple while Sean shows their daughter his robot book (which he refuses to leave home without), then spend the last couple minutes of the break fending off a (hopefully?) single dad who doesn’t seem to understand that you’re not interested. Finally, Dirk emerges from the back area looking refreshed, and an assistant corrals the kids and their parents into a line for the meet and greet. You end up at the back of the line due to Sean having one of his shoes untied which you make him fix, but you remind the pouting kiddo that Dirk promised he would meet every kid, so it doesn’t matter where in the line he is.

Sean has never been quite good at being patient, but he dutifully tries his best, clinging to your hand while you wait. You smile as one of the dads seems to flirt with Dirk, indiscreetly giving him his phone number, his daughter oblivious as she clings to her father’s pant leg. Dirk handles it pretty smoothly, waiting until the man is out of view before giving the phone number to a PA to get rid of it. Another PA leads those who’ve finished their meet-and-greet towards the door to leave, and you watch absently as the room slowly empties as you get closer to the end of the line.

Sean rocks on his heels as you get closer to the end of the line, and you feel a little bad for Dirk as one of the moms from earlier tries to flirt with him while he does his best to distance himself while still being kind about it. It reminds you of all the men who flirt with you at the gallery, as if your job requiring you to be nice to them means that you’ll somehow be more inclined to let them take you out. You wonder for a moment how often this happens to him, and if he ever takes anyone up on it. He’s a handsome man - you don’t blame anyone for being interested in him. Even his obnoxious moustache doesn’t take away from his gorgeous face. He’s probably nearly double your age, but you wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers, as they say. Not that you needed the complication of a relationship on top of your seemingly endless pile of responsibilities.

Dirk’s in it for the kids, you realise as you watch him interact with them. He’s polite enough to the adults, but he lights up when he speaks with the children, genuinely interested in what they have to say. It isn’t in a creepy way either - it reminds you more of that feeling of meeting someone who you instantly connect and have something in common with. You wonder if perhaps the honesty of children resonates with him like it does for you. They hold nothing back, and when you treat them with respect and listen to what they have to say, they really blossom into something special. You can’t believe the amount of personality Sean has, and he’s only seven.

The line dwindles, and you begin to worry as you notice how long it’s taking. Perhaps, by the time it gets to Sean, Dirk might be tired of meet-and-greets and might rush things. Maybe you should’ve let him tie his shoes in line? You end up panicking for nothing - as the family before you departs, Dirk offers Sean a wide smile that makes his eyes crinkle charmingly.

“Hey! Nice to meet you. What’s your name?” Dirk asks, and Sean introduces himself eagerly.

“I’m Sean, and this is my mom- uh, sister. You can call her Mom - I do.” He informs Dirk with a blinding grin. Your cheeks get hot, and you pet Sean’s hair back out of his face.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” You murmur, giving him your name and letting him know that he very much does not need to call you Mom. You direct it at Sean just as much as Dirk, and the older man grins, taking your offered hand to kiss your knuckles instead of shake it. You swear his gaze runs quickly up and down your body, but the second you notice it, he looks away. He immediately directs his attention back to Sean, and you listen happily as your brother yaks the poor man’s ear off, telling him all about his robot book, how he picked his outfit especially to look like Dirk, and how he watched the show every day with you. The talk show host compliments his outfit and light-up sneakers, flipping through his book and commenting on a couple things, and you can see the way Sean thrives under the attention of the older man. Part of you laments the fact that you can’t give that same energy to him that he clearly craves.

Dirk offers to sign autographs and take photos, and you take several pictures of the two together before Dirk asks his PA to take a photo of the three of you. “Since you’re a fan too.” he claims, winking at you over Sean’s head as you approach. Your cheeks burn as he slides an arm around your waist even though it remains entirely appropriate. As you step away from him, you can still feel his heat against your side, and you wonder how he isn’t sweating his ass off in that leather jacket. Sean hands over his photo and shirt for Dirk to sign, which he does with a wide smile, his signature big and dramatic for the kids, and in a cherry red marker. You’re impressed with how quick he is while still keeping it legible.

“Vic, can you take Sean here to the prize room? Let him pick something special out, since he’s my last kiddo of the day.” Dirk instructs his PA, who seems surprised but happy enough to comply. Sean practically bounces out of his shoes as he grabs the young PA’s hand and follows her out of the room.

“Thank you for that. He… he really looks up to you.” You say as you’re left alone with the talk show host since security waits outside the room for the kids’ comfort. You don’t feel nervous being alone with him, even though normally you don’t particularly enjoy being alone with men.

“He looked like he needed it. So do you.” Dirk replies simply, shrugging and offering you a wry smile, “He’s a good kid.”

“He is. I never expected him, but he’s my entire world.”

“Unplanned pregnancy?” Dirk asks, but you can see from the look on his face that he’s only asking to coax the truth out of you - he doesn’t think Sean is yours. He didn’t miss the slip in your introduction. From the expression on his face, he’s not even trying to be subtle about it really.

“No, no, he’s my little half-brother. Our mom and his dad passed away in an accident when he was four. I was just out of uni, so I got custody of him. He doesn’t really remember them, so he calls me mom.” You reply, giving him the truth since he obviously wanted it, and not feeling guilty for putting that stricken look of sympathy on his face.

“I’m sorry.” Dirk murmurs earnestly, and you shrug your shoulders, managing a gentle smile.

“It’s okay. We’re doing okay. But this - today - really helps. He adores you. You give him a lot of confidence in his self-expression, and… I mean, I’m not naive, I know people talk about us. I know he knows, and I know he hears it sometimes. But you give him the confidence to brush it off most of the time, you know? I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Dirk takes a breath, shocked and touched, and you nearly jump out of your skin as he puts a hand on your arm.

“I think you’re discounting your own role in that.” He says gently, “it must be hard, becoming a mom right out of university. You’re only, what, 25 or 26?”

“Twenty-five.” You agree, and he nods. You watch his gaze trail over you again quickly, and you raise an eyebrow. He doesn’t seem as uncomfortable as he did with the other parents, though you’ve no idea why. You have no idea why he’s still talking to you. You expected him to maybe say hi and then go off to his dressing room or trailer. He was here for the kids, not the parents. He wasn’t here for you.

“Hey, gimme your phone for a sec.” Dirk instructs without room for negotiation, and you do it without thinking. He holds it up to you for Face ID to unlock it, then taps away while you try to scoot closer and peer at it.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending myself the photos we took today.” Dirk replies airily, smiling in a way that almost looks like he’s posing, then going back to typing.

“Oh… I can delete your number afterwards, don’t worry.” You reassure him.

“I’m not worried. Text me. I’d like to see you again.”

That makes you freeze, and you tilt your head, surprised.

“Sean, you mean?”

“No, you. It’s unfortunate that you’ve got the kid right now. I would’ve loved to make you my weekend plans.” Dirk muses with a hint of a pout, shameless as can be, while you stare at him in shock. He raises an eyebrow at your expression, a smug smile spreading across his lips as you do your best to catch up. Do you want to sleep with Dirk Brûlée? That’s what he’s asking for, right? He wants to fuck you, and he gave you his number (and took yours in return) to get a chance at something in the future. Are you really going to sleep with a talk show host who is likely nearly double your age and has a reputation as a diva? Then again, he doesn’t have a reputation for fucking around - not since he went to rehab some five or so years ago after a string of ill-advised flings and bad publicity.

“Sean is getting picked up from the studio to go to his friend’s house for their birthday sleepover.” You reply in a rush of breath, then blink in astonishment as if you hadn’t realised what you were saying. Dirk steps closer to you, skimming his hand up over your arm, his eyes darkening as he cups your cheek with his other hand.

“Come over to my place tonight. Stay the night. I’ll make you breakfast.” he demands, tipping your head back a little, his thumb stroking over your lips and down your throat. You choke on your own spit, eyes wide with shock at the way he’s touching you.

“I don’t have any clothes with me except what I’m wearing.”

“I’ll loan you something, pretty girl. How long has it been since you’ve had a break?” Dirk asks, and that makes you pause. He’s a high profile - it’s not like he’s going to kill you, probably. People saw you here, and you’ve got your location shared with Nadia at all times just in case. And honestly, you’ve got pretty good danger sense by now and you don’t get any bad vibes from the talk show host currently rubbing your hands in a tease of a massage, his thumbs skillfully digging into the meat of your palm in a way that makes you shiver. There’s a sincerity in his eyes. A desire that makes you think he might need this nearly as badly as you do.

“I drove here.” You inform him, and he hums, unworried.

“I assumed. Drive to my place. There’s plenty of room to park, and you’ll have the freedom to leave whenever you want. Have you eaten anything today? I can make dinner.” Dirk ends his stream of consciousness with an almost shy smile, and you feel your cheeks get hot at the intensity of his stare.

“Okay.” You finally reply, hesitantly lifting your hands to cup his cheeks, a twinge of heat licking up your spine when he leans into it, “Kiss me first.”

Surprisingly strong hands pull you in close, and you let yourself be drawn in, sliding your hands back in his hair and down over his shoulders as he leans in to press his lips against yours. He does not lure you into it - he doesn’t start sweet and gentle, or chaste and dry. Instead, he devours you, biting your lip and using your gasp to lick his way into your mouth. You thought his moustache would be ticklish, or at least feel unpleasant, but it doesn’t. He clearly grooms it well, and it isn’t scratchy against your skin. He moans into the kiss, adjusting to nip at you gently, sucking your lower lip into his mouth to scrape his teeth across it before kissing you properly again.

You hear footsteps approaching, gentle clicks of heels that make you gasp and pull away from Dirk with wide eyes. He grins as you hurry to wipe away the remnants of your lipstick from his face, then fix his hair to look less like you’ve been combing your fingers through it while he kisses you good enough to forget your own name. He rubs away a spot of smeared lipstick from your chin, then steps away a comfortable distance to flick through his phone as the PA from earlier, Vic, opens the door with Sean at her side blabbering away. He beams at the sight of you, holding a poster and a copy of the children’s book that Dirk wrote earlier this year. The man in question dutifully signs both for Sean, ruffling his hair while you try to collect yourself and thank Vic for taking care of your little monster.

Your phone buzzes, and you let out a soft sigh of relief, “Garrett and Kimmie are here, buddy, c’mon.”

Sean cheers, then shyly asks Dirk for a hug before he goes. You can’t help but melt a little as Dirk gives Sean a squeeze, then tells him to be good at the party. He catches your eyes, winking, then pats Sean on the shoulder as he says goodbye and departs for his dressing room. Vic leads you both out of the building, and you ask Sean if he wants to keep his merch to show his friend, or for you to take it home. The mental debate takes a while, but eventually, he gives it all to you to put in your car, just in case.

“You promised to frame stuff.” He reminds you, and you laugh.

“I did. I’ll get it done soon, I promise.”

Garrett and Kimmie meet you out front, and you help Sean into the car, putting his backpack at his feet so you can give him a couple of kisses and hugs. CJ, the birthday boy, complains until you walk around the car precariously close to the busy street to give him a hug as well, and then they’re off, leaving you alone. Once upon a time, you were very used to being alone, but now? Now, it felt empty. Maybe it was a good thing you’ve been picked up by the wild tv show host. You’re sure you’d go mad on your own all weekend.

You head to your car in the small parking area for audience members, putting Sean’s things into the back seat. As you settle into the driver’s seat and examine yourself in the mirror, you realise that your lipstick is basically gone, and you hope Sean was too excited about the day to notice. Your phone buzzes, and you find Dirk’s face looking back at you in his contact photo.

Address attached. Txt me when u get here n I’ll open the gate.

A pause, and then another message comes through.

The pool n hot tub r nice today. I’ll give u sumthin to swim in. If u want? Can u swim? R u allergic 2 anything? Do u like Thai food?

Well, he texts pretty much exactly how you figured he would. Somehow, it isn’t the turn off you thought it might be.

I can swim. It might be nice since it’s hot out today. Maybe I should go home first and get clothes? Are you even going to be there if I leave right away? I don’t have any allergies, and I like pretty much everything.

Already omw home. Driver. Up to u but I wanna see u in my clothes.

Okay, see you soon.

The drive to Dirk’s house isn’t too terrible, even with a bit of traffic. You start to get excited on the drive, as nervous as you are, to finally relax a little and do something for yourself. It’s been a long time since you’ve had the chance to let loose. You haven’t been on a date since your parents passed away, and you’ve only had a single one night stand since then. The most romantic relationship you’ve had has been with your vibrator. Based on the kisses he gave you earlier, you’re fairly sure Dirk will be able to give you a good night. If he doesn’t, at least you’ll get to lounge in his hot tub, sleep in what you imagine is a lavish bed, and maybe he’ll even feed you. Worst case scenario, you’re plenty good at getting yourself off.

Dirk Brûlée’s house is stunning. You’re not necessarily surprised - his vibrant aesthetic wasn’t necessarily what was popular these days, but it was something you saw often in the art community, and it worked for him. The house is an off-white brick with flowers and vines painted across it. The door is a large, old wooden thing that reminds you of a castle, as do the stained glass windows. The path up to the door is made of painted stones, and vibrant flowers line the flowerbeds along the sides of the path and the side of the house. You can’t wait to see the inside.

Your house is beautiful. I’m outside.

You pop a stick of gum into your mouth just to make sure your breath is fresh despite the fact that you’ve already made out with Dirk less than an hour ago. You grin when the gate begins to open, and you pull into the driveway to park. Your phone buzzes, and you glance at it as you turn your car off, your cheeks getting hot as you see the message.

Can’t wait 2 c u. I wanna take care of u n make u feel good, mon chou.

As you’re getting out of the car, you hear the front door open and nearly trip over your own feet when you see Dirk. He’s changed since he got home. He’s replaced his vibrant outfit with a pair of jeans that look painted on and a colourful apron with ‘Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo Mike Echo’ on the front. You snicker despite how cheesy it is, though you’re distracted when you realise he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. As soon as you’re close enough, he pulls you into a kiss that has you clinging to the straps of his apron and trying to tuck your gum into your cheek. He leads you inside despite your distracted state, relieving you of your purse and setting it on the table in the front entrance. Your arms slip around his neck, trusting him to hold your weight while you carefully toe off your heels and tuck them out of the way. You only break the kiss when you smell what he’s cooking, and he mouths along your jaw and neck as you breathe in.

“God, what is that?”

“Mm, I’m making Thai lettuce wraps and fish tacos. Shouldn’t be long before it’s done.” He replies against your throat, the depth of his voice vibrating through you.

“God, that sounds delicious.” You murmur, tangling your fingers in his hair and hissing as Dirk sinks his teeth into the meat of your breast, “Ow! If you’re that hungry, I have something else you can eat, baby.”

Dirk laughs at your cheesy come-on and playfully sultry tone, nipping your chin, then kissing you properly while he backs you through the house towards the kitchen. You’d love to get a good view of Dirk's gorgeous home, but you’re far too distracted by the way this stupidly hot older man is licking his way into your pliant mouth while his hands smooth down your back to grab handfuls of your ass. When you part for breath, Dirk grins as he starts to chew, and that's when you realise that he stole your gum. With any other guy, it would probably be not just weird, but gross. You know it’s gross. And yet, something about it makes your cunt throb, and you tug on his hair as punishment for his thievery.

“Sugar, if you wanted gum, you could’ve asked.” You croon at him, and he laughs then blows a bubble. You bite it to pop it, taking the gum from him and dropping it in the garbage can at the end of the island in Dirk’s stupidly pretty kitchen. You finally get a good look at the interior of the house, and you’re not surprised to find it colourful, but you’re impressed by how cohesive it is. The blend of complementary colours in the open concept kitchen, dining room and living room make each room’s most impressive features pop. In the kitchen, vintage appliances in mint green and hand-painted tiles. In the living room, a mismatch of comfortable furniture including a royal purple chaise lounge and a phthalo green cabriole sofa. Last but certainly not least, in the dining room, a china cabinet full of what looks like uranium glass pieces that you definitely want to get a closer look at.

“Ma déesse.” Dirk murmurs against your ear, and you hum inquisitively, not understanding him but recognizing at least that ‘ma’ is a possessive and that means he’s probably talking to or about you. He nibbles at your ear, then finally breaks away from you, “Je dois finir de cuisiner.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, honey, but you can keep talking all you like.” You reply simply, drawing another chuckle from Dirk as he finally gets back to cooking. You leave him to it, venturing into the dining room to peer at his uranium glass collection. It’s all well-maintained and unscratched, so you think it’s probably safe to be around, especially behind the thick glass of the china cabinet. It truly doesn’t take much longer for dinner to be ready, and you hum with excitement when Dirk calls for you, practically prancing up behind him and putting your arms around his waist. He sighs blissfully as you nuzzle your cheek against his back, stopping in place to enjoy the feeling, and you feel a twinge in your heart as you realise that despite being a tv show host and a relatively high profile person, he doesn’t have a lot of contact that he wants. You think back to today when that one mom kept touching his arm, and how you’d sympathised with him due to your own experiences with being harassed by overeager buyers at the gallery. Breathing in the scent of his cologne, you nip at the bare curve of his shoulder blade, sliding your hands under the apron to stroke his stomach.

“Mmm, thanks for cooking, handsome. How can I possibly repay you?” You coo teasingly, playing with his treasure trail, and he practically purrs as he leans into your touch.

“Plus-tard, tu peux sucer ma bite. Nous devons d'abord manger.” He murmurs, twisting in your arms and gripping the back of your neck, tilting your head back for a proper kiss.

“Mmm, uh huh, whatever you say.” You reply against his lips between kisses, draping your arms around his neck and laughing as he blows a raspberry against your mouth. You slap at his chest in an attempt at getting away from the strong grasp he has on you. He turns you around and slaps you on the ass, then turns back to keep plating your meal.

“Go sit down. Island or dining room, whatever tickles your fancy. What do you want to drink? I have pomegranate juice, orange juice, Sprite, Dr. Pepper and… I think I have Coke? Somewhere?” Dirk bends to peer into his fridge, and you watch with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile, examining the plentiful curve of his ass.

“Oh, you should definitely keep looking for that Coke.” You reply playfully, and Dirk snorts, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

“Should I? Is that what you want to drink?”

“Mhmm, yeah, haven’t had a Coke in like six years but it is DEFINITELY what I want to drink today if it keeps you bent over.”

That earns you a genuine laugh, the pleasantly baffled sort that says he’s not quite sure how he got you to himself. You giggle as he bends over a little further, back arched dramatically just for the laughs it earns him. He gives a loud ‘Aha!’ as he straightens up with a bottle of Coke in hand, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Now you’ve gotta drink it.”

“Ohh, woe is me.”

“Find a seat, ma chérie, or you’ll never get what you’re so clearly gagging for.” Dirk retorts, and you feel your cheeks get hot even as you pull one of the low-backed stools at the island out. He sets a plate in front of you, followed by the bottle of Coke, then pecks your cheek as he rounds the island to take his own seat.

“God, this looks so good. If you want me to make you breakfast in return, I definitely can.” You offer, but Dirk shrugs, reaching across to squeeze your thigh under the skirt of your dress. You moan around a bite of a Thai lettuce wrap, eyes rolling back in your head at the savoury bite of the peanut sauce.

“I like taking care of you.” He replies simply, then folds the little soft shell tortilla of his fish taco and takes a massive bite. You snicker, reaching across to wipe sauce off of the corner of his mouth and laughing as he licks it off your fingertips. Dinner is a relaxing affair, with you both mostly just devouring your food and occasionally feeding each other. Which generally ends in giggling and having to clean each other up when you accidentally smush sauce on each other’s faces, but you don’t mind. The food is delicious, and you’re fairly sure that even if he sucks in bed, you’d probably stick around for a round 2 just to get more food and the chance to keep giggling with him. You haven’t had this good of a time in years.

Once you’re done with eating, you collect your plates and bring them over to put them in the dishwasher as instructed. You yelp as Dirk steps up behind you, slipping his arms around you to cup just under your breasts, lifting them so he can cup them in his palms. He bites gently along the curve of your neck, pressing his hips into your butt so you can feel his growing erection. A grin stretches across your lips, and you bend at the waist so you can put the dishes into the dishwasher, laughing at the soft groan Dirk lets out as he strokes his hands up and down the curve of your back.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Dirk mutters, and you give a little wiggle of your hips, then straighten up and lean back into his chest.

“You’re so fucking easy.” You retort, and he snorts, sliding his hands around to squeeze your tits again.

“For you? Hell yeah, baby.” He retorts, kissing along your shoulder as he gently squeezes and massages your chest. A breathy moan escapes your lips, and you lean back into his chest firmly, letting him hold your weight as he rolls his thumbs over your nipples through the fabric of your dress and bra. Dirk whispers in french against your ear, but you can barely pick up the words, far too keyed up to focus on anything but the feeling of his big hands squeezing your chest. You reach behind you to clutch at his hair and Dirk groans softly against your ear, peppering kisses across your cheek. He spins you in his arms, laughing as you instantly pull the neck of the apron over his head, tossing it to the side so you can get your hands on his bare skin.

"Have you stretched today?" Dirk asks while stroking your sides, grabbing handfuls of your hips and squeezing. You moan quietly, running your open hands over his chest so you can feel the tickle of his chest hair against your palms.

"Uh..." Your cheeks grow hot, and you feel stupid, but can't help yourself but ask, "Do you mean my-"

Dirk interrupts you with a laugh, kissing you softly as he nuzzles his nose against yours in a surprisingly affectionate manner, "No, mon trésor, your pretty body. These incredible legs."

You gasp as he pulls one of your legs up to his hip, squeezing your thigh hard enough to almost hurt in a delicious way that sends sparks up your spine. You're already wet and he's barely even touched you.

"Uhm, I did yoga during my lunch break." You mumble, "for like, fifteen minutes."

Another laugh, and Dirk kisses you again, hooking his hands under your thighs and lifting you up onto his hips. You cling to his back as he carries you further into his house. You pass a simple bathroom that seems to have mosaics in tile across the floors and walls in the brief glance you get, then a series of photographs and accolades in the stairwell up to the second floor. Dirk pauses by a dark room that seems to be relatively empty, before humming to himself in a way that you read as ‘maybe later’ before he continues on past another bathroom and what looks like two guest bedrooms. An office is next, and then he’s kicking open the door to the master bedroom. This room seems to be the most normal in the house, though it is no less artistic. There’s a huge stained glass window and door that leads to a balcony with gold leafing on the metal. The California king-sized bed is pushed into an arch-shaped alcove in the wall, piled high with blankets, and resting on a plush carpet that you’re sure would feel like silk under your toes. The walls are aegean blue and covered with large, extremely intricate gold mandalas that you can’t help but stare at even as Dirk works a lovebite into the delicate skin of your throat.

“Your bedroom is beautiful.” You mumble, and he hums what may have been a thank you as you stroke his hair. There’s a large walnut vanity against the opposite wall of the bed, though the spot across from the end of the bed is taken up by what absolutely must be a custom mirror considering the size of it and the intricacy of the gold-leafed frame. There’s a door next to the vanity that leads to what looks like a massive bathroom, and the closet has double doors, so you assume it’s a walk-in. Dirk carries you over to the bed and lays you back on his navy sheets, crawling over you as he kisses down the centre of your chest.

“Can I take your dress off?” He asks, and you groan softly, trying to remember what underwear you wore today. A lick to the top of your breast wipes that thought from your mind, and you nod quickly, breath stuttering in your throat. Dirk loosens the corset bodice with clever fingers, nuzzling his nose and tickly moustache against the skin between your breasts. You lift your hips as he pulls the dress up to your waist, then let him support the arch of your back as he tugs it over your head, and your cheeks get hot as you realise what you’re wearing underneath. Dirk freezes, licking his lips, and you groan softly with embarrassment.

Large hands skillfully unclip your cow-print bra, and you let out a ragged gasp as Dirk bites the curve of your breast as he removes it. You almost think he’s going to let you get away with it until he rolls his tongue over your nipple, gives it a quick suck, then pouts up at you as he rests his chin against your chest.

“Aww, I thought I’d get a little milk for my efforts.” he teases, and you bat at him.

“It’s my laundry day! You try having a fucking seven year old!” You complain, cheeks on fire.

“Non, non, ne vous méprenez pas. J'aime votre lingerie.” Dirk insists, and you scowl at him until he realises his use of his native tongue, “Don’t misunderstand me. I love your underwear, my sweet girl. Especially these.”

You gasp as he tugs on the front of the novelty thong you’re wearing, a white strip of a thing with ‘I love cock sauce’ written on the front. His grin makes you want to slap him, but you refrain, just barely. You’re tempted to make excuses and tell him that it was novelty underwear that came in a box of extra hot hot sauce, but you decide against it.

“And here I thought you’d be more interested in what’s beneath it.” You purr, pushing him back a little so he can watch as you pull your thong aside, rub your fingers through the wet mess of your cunt, then slide one finger inside of yourself. Dirk groans lowly, stroking your thighs as he watches, his pupils blown with desire. You smirk at him as you add a second finger on your next thrust, and finally, Dirk snaps out of his awed surveillance. He leans down to kiss along your stomach, using his knees to spread your legs wider while slapping your hand away, then cupping your cunt in his palm.

“How much do you care for that thong?” Dirk asks quietly, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t.”

“Fantastique.” He replies, gripping the fabric in one hand and ripping it off of you, “I’ll give you some of mine instead.”

You stare at him with an open mouth, not your most attractive look, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He cups you again, leaning down to trail his lips across your chest, swirling his tongue around your nipples as he sucks first one, and then the other into his mouth.

“Your moustache tickles.” You mumble and he laughs quietly against your skin, “S’kinda nice.”

“I’m glad you like it, chérie. Let me know how it feels on your pretty cunt, oui?” He coos playfully, kissing his way down your stomach. He leans up for a moment to say ‘Alexa, play red playlist’ before dipping back down to swirl his tongue in your belly button in a way that makes you yelp and laugh. Music fills the room at just the right volume, and you run your fingers through Dirk’s caramel hair as the low instrumentals fill the room. You’re surprised to find the vibes just right - not too serious, not the bassy kind of shit that acts more as a pace-guide than anything else, and nothing loud enough to take you out of the moment. It takes Dirk a second to get settled between your legs, and you feel your cunt throb as you just barely hear him mumbling to himself over the music.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m introducing myself to your pretty little pussy, ma déesse. Telling her how pretty she is. How much I’m going to love on her.” Dirk replies, “I’ll make you feel so good, princesse. Tu me rends fou - fuck, so fucking stunning.”

You cover your face, whining softly as he finally leans in to kiss your clit, gentle as can be. His moustache tickles, and you start to close your legs, but he gives your thigh a sharp slap.

“Open, baby. Let me lick your pretty little pussy. She’s so lonely.” Dirk coos, pouting sympathetically up at you, then running the flat of his tongue across the length of your cunt. You arch off the bed, and he puts an arm over your stomach to hold you still as he laps up the honey dripping from you.

“God, Dirk, Jesus!” You gasp, and he snickers.

“Calling out to all of your deities, princesse?” he teases, closing his lips around your labia and sucking gently to love on all of you. He’s sloppy at first, intentionally so, warming you up with wide laps of the flat of his tongue, then fucking his tongue into your clenching heat while you gasp and yank on his hair. He doesn’t seem bothered at all by how rough you are with him, humming happily as he closes his lips around your clit and you nearly yank his hair out at the roots.

“Fuck, fuck, why’re you so good?” You moan, and Dirk practically purrs, delving in a little more eagerly. He rolls his tongue over your clit, trapping the sensitive bud in his mouth while he presses two thick fingers into your cunt. You nearly kick him in the ribs, gasping for breath at the sudden fullness, since his digits are far thicker than yours and it’s been a while since you’ve had a play time with your vibrator.

“Relax, mon trésor, I’ll take care of you. Je vais te faire sentir si bien. Vous ne voudrez jamais partir.” He coos, and noticing the way you yank on his hair, he glances up to meet your eyes and translate for you, “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby. You’re never going to want to leave.”

Your moans are probably deafening - you can’t tell if you’re being too loud, you’re too lost in sensation as Dirk’s fingers press into the spot inside of you that makes you clench around him tight enough that he chuckles. He strokes that spot as he rolls your clit in his mouth, and you feel your spine stiffen as you get closer to the edge.

“You’re going to strangle my cock.” He teases, and you groan in response, pushing his face back down against your cunt needily.

“Keep your mouth busy, m’so close.”

“Demanding.” he coos, and it sounds like praise as he gets back to work on your dripping pussy.

“Shut the fuck up, oh my god, please, make me cum.” You beg, and Dirk laughs against you, thrusting his fingers faster into you as he sucks your clit with a bit more determination, finally taking your pleasure a little bit more seriously. He moans around you, spreading his fingers a little to stretch you open a bit more. The pressure builds and builds, and you yank on his hair as a hard suck to your clit sends you reeling over the edge of the cliff into oblivion. Your vision goes white, your legs shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, and Dirk strokes them soothingly as he laps up the evidence of your release. He pulls away just as you start to get overly sensitive, and he kisses a trail up your belly as he settles between your legs.

“Fuck.” You pant, staring up at the ceiling as your vision is returned to you, and you blink a couple of times.

“Such a foul mouth.” Dirk teases playfully, kissing you so softly you barely even feel it. His moustache is wet with your essence as he drops his lips to kiss along your neck, letting you catch your breath. He seems so unhurried, but you can feel the throb of his cock through his too-tight jeans. When you look down, you find them undone, likely to give himself some breathing room, and you smile at the sight of the pink head of his cock sticking out from the waistband of his boxers.

“Take those stupid jeans off. You’re gonna cut circulation off to your balls with pants that tight.” You mutter, and he laughs but obediently shuffles out of his trousers, shedding his boxers along with them.

“You okay for more, or do you need a break?” Dirk asks, and you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m fine. Don’t get cocky.” You retort, and he shows you his teeth with how wide he grins.

“Okay, Miss ‘Why are you so good?’. I’m just being polite.”

Your cheeks are on fire as you spit in your hand and wrap it around him, stroking him from base to tip. You’re just a little bit mean with the way you squeeze the head, then reach down to cup and roll his balls in your palm. He chokes, then laughs breathily as he arches into your hand, a rumbly groan rising in his chest.

“Okay, okay, point taken. C’mon, chérie, hands and knees.” Dirk ‘helps’ you roll over onto your belly, though it’s more of a hindrance than anything since he keeps grabbing and squeezing your ass. You situate yourself, getting as comfortable as you can, knowing this is going to be a lot but unwilling to stop. Dirk strokes your lower back, adjusting the angle as he rubs the head of his cock against you. You try to relax, but you’re admittedly nervous - he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken, and you know his girth is going to be a bit overwhelming at first.

“Deep breath, baby. Biiiig stretch.” Dirk coos, and you would kick him if he wasn’t pressing the thick head of his cock into you, wiping every thought you’ve ever had from your mind. You grip his sheets tightly, going from your hands to bracing on your forearms with one single thrust. You feel uprooted. Unmoored and awash in riptide by the stretch of too much too fast. It feels like it goes on forever, but eventually, Dirk’s pelvis presses up against your ass, and he pets your lower back adoringly. You can feel his groan vibrating through you despite the fact that he isn’t leaning over your body yet, and you’re surprised to find it as loud as your own cry of his name. He stays still for the moment, letting you catch your breath while you deal with the fact that you can feel him in your lungs - can barely breathe for how deep he is.

“Not compensating.” You mumble under your breath, dizzy with fullness, and Dirk hums inquisitively, but you shake your head.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you reach back one arm to smack him as if he’s doing something wrong by checking in. Luckily, he seems to find it amusing, as he chuckles at you and catches your hand. You shiver as he slides his hand up your forearm.

“Wait, Dirk-” You protest, but you’re not quick enough. He pulls you up by your arm, grabbing the other with his free hand, and you cry out at the change in angle. The pressure inside of you eases as he slowly pulls out, but the relief is short-lived, and you whine as he thrusts back in rather sharply. He sets a measured pace, not too slow, but not quick enough that you don’t take every single inch of him with every rock of his hips. Strong hands hold you by the arms, keeping you somewhat upright as he makes a solid effort at breaking you. Your breasts bounce every time he ruts into you, and if you were capable of conscious thought at the moment, you’d realise how sore you’re going to be later from this position. Eventually, Dirk seems to have pity, releasing his grip on your arms and pushing you down into the mattress instead, panting fervent French as he rocks your world.

You’re drooling. You can feel it under your face, and you’re fairly sure you’re cross-eyed, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. You can feel yourself rocking back into his thrusts, taking as eagerly as he gives it to you, forcing him to be just a little rougher. If you’re going to ache later, you want it to be a bone-deep ache that’s worth the monumental effort. His hand slides up your spine to cup the back of your neck, both of you slick with sweat, and you have no idea how long it is before his other hand slips between your legs and starts to play with your aching clit.

“Come for me, love, come on. Fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous, how the fuck did I get you to come home with me? C’mon baby, lemme make you feel good. Let go for me.” Dirk groans behind you, and you feel dizzy and cockdumb as he finds the right angle to send you screaming over the edge again. A ragged groan rips from your lover’s lips as you clench around him, and his hips stutter, the pace of his thrusts ruined. You cling to the sheets as you feel heat flood your cunt, the last couple of pumps of Dirk’s hips fucking it deeper into you. He doesn’t collapse atop you, instead carefully manuevering the both of you until you’re laying against his bare chest, face nuzzled into his fuzzy pec.

“You okay?” Dirk asks after a few minutes of panting for breath and snuggling. You groan against his skin.

“I think you broke my hips.” You retort, and he laughs, giving you a gentle squeeze on the butt.

“I promise I didn’t, chérie. Relax a little longer, then I’ll clean us up. Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Dirk asks, and you melt at his gentle tone, pouting a little as you consider your options.

“Maybe. Is more off the table?”

“Never, ma déesse.” Dirk replies, and you hum, leaning up to kiss him softly. He pets your hair back out of your face, lips pressing to your eyelids, and then your nose before returning to your wanting mouth.

“Don’t commit to something you can’t keep up with. I know you’re older than me.” You remind him, and he gives a diva-like gasp, though he’s still grinning.

“I’m only forty.” He protests, “Still plenty young enough to rock your world. Clearly.”

You giggle, using every ounce of willpower you have to pull yourself up from your position snuggled up against his side, throwing a leg over his hips so you can sit on top of him.

“So, you’re ready to fuck me again?” You ask, brow raised skeptically. He snorts, holding your hips to keep you steady and pushing his thumbs into the softer skin in the curve of your pelvis.

“Find me a guy older than 20 who can manage that, ma petite femme. But, I can take care of your pretty little cunt until I’m ready.” Dirk promises, sweeping his hands up over your sides, “Wanna meet Crème Brûlée?”

You can’t help but laugh, leaning down to kiss him again, “Didn’t I already?”

He laughs, rolling you both over so he can get up, then helping you to your feet. Your legs are a little unsteady, so he pointedly raises an eyebrow at you, but helps you from the room.

“I am not juvenile enough to have named my dick.” he insists, and you snort, following him towards the dark room he’d mused over earlier that night.

“Liar. I don’t believe that for a second!”

“Well, I’m certainly not telling you when you’re just going to make fun of me. Calling me old and cocky. Very rude.” He teases as he opens the door fully and flicks on the light. The room is a deep, royal purple, with one wall entirely taken up by mirrors. There’s a large vanity by the window, and racks of outfits that look like they each might’ve cost a thousand dollars minimum. There’s also a massage table tucked into a corner, likely only pulled out when it’s to be used.

“This is where I keep my nicer stuff. Including Crème Brûlée.” Dirk gestures to the centre of the room, where a dark waterproof mat is set out, and upon which rests what you vaguely recognise as a sybian from a little too much time on the Hub. Your eyes go wide as saucers, and Dirk strokes your lower back soothingly, nipping the tip of your ear.

“Is that…?”

“Mhm. No pressure, baby. If you aren’t into it-”

“I am very into it. Very. Gimme a second to take this in.” You cut him off, and he laughs quietly as he slips up behind you instead. His lips trail a path across your shoulder, hands stroking over your bare stomach before one slips between your legs to collect the cum leaking from you and push it back inside, “These are like, several grand.”

Dirk hums his agreement, stroking wet fingers over your clit, “With the attachments? Certainly. Do you wanna try him out?”

You whimper, grabbing and squeezing his forearm gently as you consider it.

“Yeah. But I don’t want you to stop touching me.” You admit, and he sighs dreamily, rewarding you with slow strokes to your clit.

“I won’t. I can sit behind you, play with your pretty body while you ride it. Once I’m ready, I can even fuck you on it. We can see how many times I can make you come before me.” Dirk’s offer is salacious, and you wet your lips, excitement sending heat burning up your spine.

“Yeah… yeah, ruin me.” You request, and you feel Dirk’s groan as much as you hear it. He guides you over to the toy, wiping it down with a body-safe sex toy cleaner just to be extra safe before he guides you to sit atop the grinder pad. He lets you get settled, fetching a bottle of lube that he sets on the corner of the mat within reach, then sits behind you on the machine. You sigh as he warms up some lube in his hand before he generously rubs it into your cunt, coating you in it to protect you from any possible irritation since the grinder pad is big enough to cover most of you. Once you’re settled and comfortable, he rubs the excess over his cock and balls just in case, then reaches for the remote.

“Ready, baby?”

“Ready. I want you to fuck me again as soon as you’re ready. Need to feel you stretch me open again.” You murmur, breathless with excitement, and it’s the last coherent thought you have for quite some time. The vibration starts relatively gentle, but still overwhelming in your post-orgasmic state. You tremble, attempting to lift your hips, but Dirk grabs you and holds you down.

“Ah, ah, ah. Be a good girl.” Dirk commands, and your spine turns to jelly. It’s too easy to make you come this quickly after the last one. As soon as Dirk turns the sybian up a notch, and then two, you’re crying out for mercy as you lean back into his sturdy chest, your hands reaching back to blindly tangle in his hair. One orgasm turns into two as he turns it up even higher, and you can hear yourself sobbing, distantly, almost like it’s someone else. Dirk gently pushes you to lean forwards, and you gasp for air as the blunt head of his cock presses into you mercilessly. He pulls you back to sit on him, positioning you so that your clit is still rubbing against the grinder pad, and you see stars. Lightning flashes behind your eyes as two turns to three.

“Gripping me like a vice.” Dirk growls against your shoulder, and you sob his name, clinging to him like he’ll save you from the torment he’s putting you through, “I’m not going to last if you keep this up.”

Like it’s your fault.

You scream as your fourth orgasm on the sybian rips through you like a bullet, and you’re shaking as Dirk finally pulls you up off of the machine, laying you down beside it with a fresh load of his cum stuffed deep inside you. He turns off the machine, collapsing beside you on the mat and pulling you into his arms, panting for breath. You blink to try and clear the fog from your brain, glancing at his watch to find you’ve been on the sybian for quite a while, even if it’s felt like both five seconds and five hours.

“You okay?” Dirk asks again, and this time, you curl into his arms and nod sleepily.

“So, so beyond okay.”

~

You wake in the morning curled up in Dirk’s lavish bed, naked but clean, your face buried in his chest. His arm is looped around your shoulders, your legs tangled together, and the sound of his heartbeat is so soothing you almost go back to sleep. Instead, you sit up, straddling Dirk’s leg simply because of the position you’d been in when you awoke. He blinks blearily up at you, rubbing one large hand over his face, then yawning.

“Bonjour.” He mumbles, and you smile, leaning down to kiss him closed-mouth to avoid morning breath. He smiles up at you in that dreamy way that makes you melt like warm butter, “There’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom. I’ll use the other one. Steal whatever you need, and I’ll get some clothes for you.”

You thank him, slipping out of bed and stretching, bare as the day you were born. It takes you a second to walk properly, but you manage, heading into the bathroom to wash up. By the time you leave, the bedroom is empty save for a shirt and a pair of boxers on the vanity. The shirt is a Dirk Brûlée shirt which makes you snicker, while the boxers have little Sriracha bottles on them and ‘Flaming Hot’ on the ass.

When you enter the kitchen, you find Dirk cooking breakfast in a pair of obnoxious silk boxers while listening to 80s pop music. He smiles at you as you come into view and sit at the island, a hint of something in his eyes that makes your tummy do somersaults. You grab a knife from the block, and an apple from the fruit bowl on his counter, cutting it into slices while you watch him shimmy around the kitchen cooking what looks like far too much food for two. You’re far too fond of him to protest. Instead, you pop a slice of apple into your mouth and stare at the little dimples in his lower back.

“How do you want your eggs, ma petite femme?” Dirk asks, and you gaze dreamily at his stupidly pretty face, chin propped up on your fist.

“Fertilised.” You reply mindlessly, then slip another slice of apple into your mouth. Dirk’s laugh is loud and disbelievingly happy, and he leans across the island to kiss you.

“I can make that happen.”

“Should I throw out my birth control?” You ask playfully, and he snickers.

“Who says I haven’t already?” 

“Usually you don’t tell someone when you’re gonna baby trap them, honey.”

“Is it a trap if you know about it?” Dirk queries, flipping a pancake and grinning at you. You can’t help yourself. You get up from your stool, circling the island to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his back.

“You can baby trap me any day, sugar.”

~

The weekend passes in a whirlwind of laughter and fun and ridiculously good sex. You try out Dirk’s hot tub, then laze around catching sun in his pool. Overheated, you both lay on the couch to watch a movie with cold juice, cuddling even though you’re both too hot for it to be totally comfortable. Dirk translates his pet names for you, though he refuses to translate ‘ma petite femme’ even though that one seems the most obvious to you. He tells you his future plans for the show, and listens while you tell him all about your job at the gallery.

You both take a good hundred pictures throughout the weekend, though neither of you post any of them. You make lunch, and Dirk orders out for dinner as a little treat. He doesn’t like going out too often since most restaurants have the allure of alcohol, and he’s still recovering. He shows you his five year coin, which he keeps on him at all times. He tells you about his parents, and you tell him about yours, and Sean, and he strokes your hair as you vent a little bit about how hard it’s been raising him on your own.

By Sunday afternoon, you dread the thought of leaving. You’ve always been quite independent, but you don’t want to be away from Dirk. He promises to call you, offers several times to let you stay over with Sean, though you both agree that might be a little weird for the poor kid and decide against it. He kisses you about a thousand times before letting you leave, and you see him watching you from the window as you drive off.

Your home feels cold and lifeless when you get home, and you lament the lack of colour. You’ve never been bold enough to go wild with decorating your condo, knowing you’ll have to pay an arm and a leg to repaint it should you ever want to sell. You’ve been home for twenty minutes and you’re already sick of it. As you sit at your computer, still wearing Dirk’s shirt, boxers and a pair of gym shorts, you google ‘ma petite femme’ on a whim.

The direct translation is ‘my little woman’, but you note that it is used instead to mean ‘my little wife’ in practice.

You change into your own clothes, then head out to get groceries for the week. As you’re on your way home, you stop in at a nearby store where you pretend you’ve never been before as a very upstanding single mother. You walk out with a discreet bag, and head home to put away your groceries. Finally, once you’re done and you’ve sufficiently adulted for the day, you unwrap your purchase. Three hours after you left Dirk’s house, he receives a photo of a vibrant pink cock ring in a ring box, and a simple text message.

You need to rename your sybian. I wanna be Crèmed Brûlée.

[ncisfranchise-source]

The hybrid NCIS: Sydney team is once again offering “two for the price of one” in TVLine’s exclusive peek at the returning CBS drama’s Season 2 trailer.

TVLine’s month-long #2025FirstLook series kicks off today with the NCIS: Sydney Season 2 teaser above, which features cast members Olivia Swann, Todd Lasance, Sean Sagar and Tuuli Narkle, some explodey stuff, and more.

The NCIS: Sydney team was formed in the series’ November 2023 premiere, when a seaman on a U.S. sub parked in Sydney Harbour collapsed and tumbled into the water, dead. The specific circumstances of the mysterious death led to a jurisdictional battle between arriving NCIS Special Agent Michelle Mackey (played by Legends of Tomorrow vet Swann) and AFP (Australian Federal Police) Sergeant Jim “JD” Dempsey (played by Spartacus: War of the Damned‘s Lasance).

In short order we then met cool-as-ice Mackey’s comparatively genial colleague, NCIS Special Agent DeShawn Jackson (Fate: The Winx Saga‘s Sagar), plus JD’s team: AFP Liaison Officer Constable Evie Cooper (Bad Behaviour‘s Narkle), Forensic Pathologist Dr. Roy Penrose (Blue Heelers‘ William McInnes) and interim Forensic Scientist Bluebird “Blue” Gleeson (Neighbours‘ Mavournee Hazel) — all of whom are back for Season 2.

Averaging 6.6 million viewers (with Live+7 playback), NCIS: Sydney was CBS’ second most-watched program of the strikes-delayed Fall 2023 season, trailing only 60 Minutes and tying Survivor. It also emerged as the most-watched freshman show on any network that fall.

All told, NCIS: Sydney was the 2023-24 TV season’s No. 3 most-watched new drama, trailing CBS’ own Tracker (which averaged a Super Bowl-boosted 10.8 million) and Elsbeth (7.4 million).

WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN SEASON 2?

In Season 2 of NCIS: Sydney, Mackey and JD’s team, having only just found their feet, will square off against a much more powerful adversary. As teased at the very end of the Season 1 finale — 10-MONTH OLD SPOILER ALERT! — the investigation into Colonel Rankin (played by Hunters‘ Lewis Fitz-Gerald) will reveal a looming destructive chaos that threatens the stability of the region.

In the Season 2 premiere, titled “Heart Starter” and airing Friday, Jan. 31 at 8/7c (leading into Fire Country and a relocated S.W.A.T.), a rogue assassin is on the run, and the NCIS/AFP team will do whatever it takes to crack the case, “even if that means waking the dead….”

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

Colin Firth, filming Lockerbie and embodying Dr Jim Swire, 88, in Glasgow as he sported Jim's famous 'Lockerbie: The Truth Must Be Known' badge. 📸 © Wattie Cheung

Sky drama and Peacock “Lockerbie”.

It's not the one original series "Lockerbie," about the 1988 flight disaster. Sky and Peacock began filming in Scotland in February and BBC, Netflix and MGM started programming in March.

The cast members in Lockerbie Colin Firth (The King’s Speech, A Single Man, The Staircase) join Catherine McCormack (Slow Horses, Temple, Lucan) to play Jane Swire opposite Firth’s Dr Jim Swire.

Known as the Lockerbie bombing and the Lockerbie air disaster in the UK, it was described by Scotland's Lord Advocate as the UK's largest criminal inquiry led by the smallest police force in Britain, Dumfries and Galloway Constabulary.

The five-part series, featuring Oscar-winning actor Colin Firth, is based on the tragic Lockerbie terror attack on 21st December 1988 when Pan Am flight 103 from London to New York exploded over the Dumfries and Galloway town, killing all 259 on board and 11 residents.

Colin Firth, will play Dr Jim Swire, a doctor who lost his daughter, Flora, in the 1988 tragedy. Writers also took inspiration from Jim's book, The Lockerbie Bombing: A Father's Search for Justice.

In the wake of the disaster, Dr Jim Swire (Firth), is nominated spokesperson for the UK victims’ families, who have united to demand truth and justice. Travelling across continents and political divides, Jim embarks on a relentless journey that not only jeopardises his stability, family and life, but completely overturns his trust in the justice system. As the truth shifts under Jim’s feet, his view of the world is left forever sullied.

Colin dyed his hair a whitish shade of grey to match Jim's and wore a tartan tie. 📸 © Wattie Cheung

Firth was seen on the set of the new drama in Linlithgow, which will close several roads in the east end and city centre during the filming. Colin was spotted in character and has taken on the role of Jim, 88, the father of one of the 270 victims of the 21st December 1988 Lockerbie bombing.

At the back of Colin's briefcase was a drawing of Jim's daughter, Flora Swire, who was on her way to the US to spend Christmas with her boyfriend when Libyan terrorists blew up the plane.

The real Jim (pictured in 2015) became famous after the bombing for his relentless lobbying towards a solution for the difficulties in bringing suspects in the original bombing to trial 📸 © PA

The series is based on the book The Lockerbie Bombing: A Father’s Search for Justice by Jim Swire and Peter Biddulph – as well as other sources.

Lockerbie bombing, The new drama, Flight 103: Film crew in Linlithgow to work on, have been spotted in Glasgow as filming begins in the city. Road closures are in place as filming kick starts.

A film crew is currently filming in Linlithgow working on a new TV series based on the Lockerbie disaster.

Linlithgow is situated between Edinburgh and Glasgow, to the south of the Firth of Forth and on the edge of Linlithgow Loch. Linlithgow Palace, Stewart residence, birthplace of Mary Queen of Scots, and rest stop between Edinburgh Castle and Stirling Castle.

It had been noticed for its similarity to the original Pan Am Flight 103 which exploded over the town of Dumfries and Galloway, 40 minutes into its flight from London to New York.

@getty Images

Scottish playwright David Harrower (Blackbird, Knives in Hens) is the lead writer. Maryam Hamidi (Vigil) is guest writer on an episode. Additional writing comes from Jim, Kirsten and Naomi Sheridan.

BAFTA Award-winning Otto Bathurst (Peaky Blinders, The Winter King) is lead director. Jim Loach (Save Me) will also direct an episode. Gareth Neame and Nigel Marchant are Executive Producers for Carnival Films. Sam Hoyle is Executive Producer for Sky Studios. Additional Executive Producers include David Harrower, Otto Bathurst, Liz Trubridge, Jim Sheridan, Kirsten Sheridan and Oskar Slingerland.

A true story with an Academy Award®-winning actor Colin Firth not to be missed 📍

#Lockerbie #ColinFirth #DrJimSwire #book #TheLockerbieBombing: AFather'sSearchfor Justice #SKY #Peacok #truestory #bombing #CatherineMcCormack #Linlithgow #Scotland #PanAmflight103 #DumfriesandGalloway #disaster #filming #newdrama #FloraSwire #JaneSwire #series #Libyanterrorists #plane #LockerbieairdisasterintheUK #policeforce

A release date for the series hasn't yet been set.

Posted 6th March 2024

[vernicosa]

“When the celebrations fade, Syria's new leaders will face the daunting task of trying to deliver stability to a diverse country with competing factions that will need billions of dollars in aid and investments to rebuild.

One possible challenge could be a resurgence of Islamic State militants.

During its prime, the group imposed a reign of terror in large swathes of Syria and Iraq and directed external operations before it was defeated by a U.S.-led coalition.

Underscoring the lightning changes, Iran's embassy was stormed by Syrian rebels, Iran's English-language Press TV reported.

Lebanese-based Hezbollah, which provided crucial support to Assad for years, withdrew all of its forces from Syria on Saturday as rebel factions approached Damascus, two Lebanese security sources told Reuters on Sunday.

Assad, who had not spoken in public since the sudden rebel advance a week ago, flew out of Damascus for an unknown destination earlier on Sunday, two senior army officers told Reuters.

His whereabouts now - and those of his wife Asma and their two children - were unknown. The Russian Foreign Ministry said Assad had left office and departed the country after giving orders there be a peaceful handover of power.

The Syrian rebel coalition said it was continuing work to complete the transfer of power in the country to a transitional governing body with full executive powers.

"The great Syrian revolution has moved from the stage of struggle to overthrow the Assad regime to the struggle to build a Syria together that befits the sacrifices of its people," it added in a statement.

As Syrians expressed joy, Prime Minister Mohammad Ghazi al-Jalali called for free elections.”